The Shape of a Question

by Astrarian

2. Meanings of Silence

Business unfortunately came first during a week like this. Rarity’s desire to immediately make Sweetie Belle open up was simply untenable until she had delivered the dresses for Hoity Toity to the train station. Normally Rarity would accompany her product to the capital despite Hoity Toity’s hoof-picked security escort for her dresses, but she was worried about her sister (and quite tired after the long working hours of her week).

She allowed Sweetie Belle to help her package the order because it seemed to make her feel better. The task took a surprising amount of time even with Rarity’s proficient use of packing tape. She arrived on the platform with only seconds to spare, and felt obliged to offer the train guard a gratuity. The train still ended up leaving a couple of minutes late.

Once she returned, she closed the boutique to ensure they would not be disturbed. Now they sat in the workroom on Rarity’s fainting couch.

“He thought bad luck was his special talent,” Sweetie Belle said, “and even though it wasn’t, he thought it was for so long that everypony else thought he was a dangerous criminal. Even me.”

It wasn’t that Sweetie Belle was talking nonsense. It was simply that Rarity was struggling to understand precisely why her experience in Appleoosa had ultimately resulted in such despondency. By all accounts the Cutie Mark Crusaders - which Rarity still thought was a darling little nickname - had improved another pony’s life, and been glad to do so. It was an uplifting story.

“You helped Mister Trouble Shoes to understand the true meaning of his cutie mark, did you not?” Rarity questioned. “That it is not the mark that makes the mare, but the mare that makes the mark,” she proclaimed grandly, drawing her hoof through the air pointedly. Then she cleared her throat. “So to speak.”

“Yes,” Sweetie Belle agreed ardently, “but everypony always said I was scared over nothing, not that a pony really can hate their cutie mark for their entire life!” Her voice squeaked as she emphasised the final words.

“There’s no need for you to be afraid of that, Sweetie Belle. That will not happen to you. Everypony will help you to ensure that you do interpret your cutie mark correctly, when the time comes. It sounds to me like your friend Trouble Shoes was just unlucky.”

“I told you bad luck isn’t his special talent,” Sweetie Belle insisted. “It’s being in rodeos, making ponies laugh.”

Rarity rubbed a hoof across her jaw. “I didn’t mean that I don’t believe you. I mean that by simple misfortune, which was not your friend’s fault, he had no-pony to help him see what his special talent really was. Why, I feel awfully sorry for him,” she murmured sympathetically. “I can understand his plight, since you say his cutie mark appeared when he was performing with a lasso.”

Sweetie Belle’s eyes grew wide. She leaped forward off the couch onto all four hooves, tail swishing anxiously. “So it could happen to me? It was a totally understandable mistake that could happen to any pony?”

“No, Sweetie,” Rarity said quickly. “As I said, it won’t happen to you. And I’m so proud that you managed to help him see what his cutie mark really meant. You should really try to concentrate on that.”

“It could happen to me,” Sweetie Belle wailed. “What if we were wrong? What if he was only happy because no-pony was calling him a criminal anymore? His cutie mark is an upside-down horse shoe. That could mean anything!”

The sonic rainboom that cracked open the rock to which Rarity had been dragged by her unicorn magic as a filly had been bursting with gemstones. If she had received her cutie mark before realising she could use the gems to improve her costumes, could she have ended up in an unhappy life, believing that her special talent was locating diamonds or - perish the thought - rock-farming?

Trouble Shoes’s incorrect conclusion was well understandable. Rarity too would have immediately assumed that his cutie mark symbolised bad luck. But if a pony couldn’t think of anything helpful to say, they shouldn’t say anything at all. Under duress Rarity might admit that she was not perfect at obeying that adage. However, it was vital not to say anything that would worry Sweetie Belle further, so she chose to say nothing that related to Trouble Shoes’s cutie mark.

“Do calm down, dear. You said he was genuinely happy,” she pointed out.

Sweetie Belle returned to the couch. “He seemed to be,” she said hesitantly. “He said it felt like what he was supposed to be doing.”

“There,” Rarity said with satisfaction. “You did help him, and it’s as simple as that. If he’s happy, then I too am happy, and you should be too. Though I must add, I would be dreadfully unhappy if it was my destiny to be a rodeo clown. I’ve never found clowns funny.”

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes. “Have you seen a rodeo clown? Have you ever even been to a rodeo?”

“I’ve seen Applejack practising her ‘moves’,” Rarity said defensively.

Sweetie Belle giggled quietly. “That doesn’t count, Rarity.”

“I think if I’m friends with the number one–what was it, a hay bale arranger?–Regardless, I hardly need to visit an actual rodeo.”

Sweetie Belle giggled again.

Having mentioned Applejack, Rarity noted that she must arrange to see her friend in the near future. Completing Hoity Toity’s order hadn’t left her an opportunity to congratulate Applejack on her winning routine.

It wouldn’t be a bad idea to hear the entire story about Appleoosa again, either. Applejack had given her a quick rundown, and so had her parents, but her workload meant she’d paid less attention than she probably should have.

Thinking of Applejack reminded Rarity of Apple Bloom, bringing her back to the real topic at hoof. “I see now why you were upset about Trouble Shoes, Sweetie Belle, but that does not explain why you didn’t want to spend the afternoon with Apple Bloom and Scootaloo.”

“Oh. That.” Sadness clouded Sweetie Belle’s green eyes. “Was it that obvious?”

When no explanation was forthcoming, Rarity voiced her suspicion slowly. “Did you want to help me design a dress for Twilight so that you wouldn’t have to see your friends?”

Sweetie Belle hung her head.

“Why would you not want to see them?” Rarity asked, shocked and saddened.

“I just don’t want to go crusading right now,” Sweetie Belle said quietly.

“You did have quite an adventure,” Rarity acknowledged. “Why don’t you tell Apple Bloom and Scootaloo how you’re feeling?”

“Crusading’s what we do,” Sweetie Belle sighed. “If I don’t crusade, how can we still be friends?”

“Well, darling, it’s perfectly possible to have friends who don’t share all of the same interests as you. You can even be different kinds of ponies entirely and still be wonderful friends,” Rarity said.

“Like you and Applejack?”

“Exactly.”

Every adventure they had together threw the disparities between Rarity, Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie into sharp relief. Those differences hadn’t prevented them from saving Equestria on multiple occasions; on the contrary, they had made each obstacle surmountable. Furthermore they had helped other ponies to not only improve themselves but to make friends with one another. In one way, helping Sweetie Belle to overcome her fears could be considered another part of Rarity’s mandate to help Twilight spread friendship across Equestria.

“I do think that you should talk to Apple Bloom and Scootaloo about this,” Rarity said to Sweetie Belle. “I’m sure they’d understand.”

“I’m sorry I made you sound demanding in front of them,” Sweetie Belle said. Rarity blushed minutely. “And that I used you as an excuse,” Sweetie Belle continued. “But I do want to help you make Twilight’s dress.”

Sweetie Belle sounded happier. Rarity smiled, relieved. “I think it’s going to be divine.”

“Are we going to start designing now then?”

“Yes, we probably should get started, although there’s no rush. And if you’d like to talk about this again, or anything else, you do know that I am happy to help, don’t you?” Rarity checked. “Really and truly? It’s the least I can do.”

“Oh, um, okay, Rarity,” Sweetie Belle said. “Thank you.”

Rarity’s stomach suddenly squeaked and grumbled. Sweetie Belle began to giggle. The clock on the wall read nearly two in the afternoon. “Oh, my, look at the time,” Rarity exclaimed. “Shall we have a late lunch before we do anything else?”

“Okay.” Sweetie Belle sprang from the sofa. Opalescence, who so rarely showed affection, actually rubbed herself against Sweetie Belle’s back leg: a sure sign that the mood within the boutique had improved considerably.

Rarity still felt that she should do more, however. She smiled smugly. “Actually, I do have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Sweetie Belle squeaked appropriately.

“Yes. I made something for you, to thank you for all of your hard work over the past few days.” Rarity walked towards one of the dress rails she kept in the workroom. This one was currently covered with a blanket. Rarity was barely able to keep herself from giving a little jump of anticipatory delight, which put a bounce in her gait.

Rarity removed the blanket from the rail with a dramatic flourish. White light radiated from her horn, reflecting off the sequins that shimmered on Sweetie Belle’s new blue dress. Sweetie Belle’s jaw slackened, her eyes shining. Then she beat her front hooves against the floor and squealed.

The design, though relatively simple, was reminiscent of the Crystal Empire. Notably the dress featured flowing sleeves that covered the forearm and two light green crystals over the breast where the collar ended. There were also couple of diamond-shaped clasps for her mane.

Sweetie Belle rushed up to the dress rail, using her magic to levitate the dress from its hanger and down into her hooves. Rarity nickered gleefully.

“This is amazing!” Sweetie Belle shrieked. “It’s for me? How did you have the time to make this?” she demanded.

“After you left each night. I’m so glad that you like it.”

“Like it? I love it! I love you!” Sweetie Belle gushed, and dropped the dress in favour of leaping up to hug Rarity. Rarity was quick to use her magic to lay the dress gently on the floor, and her ability to concentrate on several things at once was very useful when the impact of Sweetie Belle against her shoulder forced Rarity to take a few steps in order to maintain her balance.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Sweetie Belle’s repeated squeals were broken up by incoherent squeaks. They nuzzled affectionately.

“I was going to save it for a more prestigious occasion,” Rarity admitted once Sweetie Belle had calmed slightly. “But I hoped it would cheer you up. It’s yours now, so it’s your choice when you wear it. Do remember it will lose its impact once everypony sees it,” she warned.

Sweetie Belle released Rarity and trotted back over to the dress. She placed the garment back on its hanger, and then lifted it into the air with her magic and started to rotate it, staring intently. Her tongue poked out from between her lips. The aura of Rarity’s magic mingled with Sweetie Belle’s around the dress when sweat began to bead on her forehead and roll down her nose. Gratefully she released the dress, and Rarity hung it back on the rail.

Sighing happily, Sweetie Belle smiled sincerely up at Rarity. Then her gaze was drawn back to her gift. The love that squeezed Rarity’s heart made a lump rise in her throat, like when she found the picture Sweetie Belle made using those baby blue sapphires, before they completed the Sisterhooves Social.

“Thank you,” Sweetie Belle said again.

“Well, that’s quite all right.” Rarity only just resisted the urge to cry. “I’ll see you downstairs shortly.” Quickly she trotted away so that her happy tears could fall unnoticed and unjudged.

They shared lunch in companionable silence. The cathartic experience of crying over the cucumbers had left Rarity quite worn out. Though she certainly had no regrets about the lack of sleep and spa time she’d had in the last week, if it wasn’t for Sweetie Belle’s desire to help design Twilight’s dress Rarity would happily head to bed right now.

“I need to tell you something else,” Sweetie Belle said suddenly. “It’s not just my cutie mark I’m worried about. When we were in Appleoosa—”

Regrettably, Rarity started to snore gently. Sweetie Belle looked up from her cucumber sandwiches. “Rarity?” she asked.

Her big sister didn’t respond except to nicker lightly. She swayed in her seat.

Sweetie Belle exhaled, perplexed. It was barely mid-afternoon.

On further reflection, Sweetie Belle supposed that Rarity deserved a nap. Anypony would have laughed when Rarity gently toppled forwards and collided face-first with her half-eaten sandwiches though. Her horn impaled one sandwich straight through the middle. Cucumber water trickled onto the plate.

Once Sweetie Belle had finished giggling she quietly tidied her plate into the sink and went back upstairs to admire her new dress. She took liberty with Rarity’s sketch pad, inspired by the garb before her and by Twilight’s cutie mark.

In the end, her sketches were less for design purposes and aimed more at putting on the fridge in her parents’ house. She did pin one picture of herself and Rarity hugging to the window beam beside some of Rarity’s other designs. Having a sister was still remarkably hard a lot of the time. But moments like this made up for a lot of the trials.

---

Of all of the types of quiet a pony could hear in their life, Applejack’s favourite was undoubtedly the one of Sweet Apple Acres at rest. The peace of the orchard at the end of a long day was incomparable. Total silence was unsettling; sounds of life like the wind rustling the leaves and the occasional cluck of a tired hen were what a pony like Applejack needed to feel content.

Apple Bloom could see her tail swishing languidly as she walked up to the farmhouse. “Howdy, lil’ sis,” Applejack greeted her. There were lines beneath her eyes.

“Hi, Applejack. Did ya finish painting the barn?”

“Sure did. Pinkie Pie came by and helped out. She painted another one of those big smiles on the side. She never gets tired of that. Good thing too; that barn of ours seems to need repainting more often than a cow needs milking. Y’all have fun crusading today?”

Apple Bloom stood beside her older sister and looked out across the vegetable patch. “Scootaloo and I were with Spike and Twilight at the castle. I didn’t get my cutie mark.” She smiled widely nevertheless. “We made cookies and all sorts of fun stuff. It was great!”

“Not Sweetie Belle?”

“She was helpin’ Rarity to make another dress,” Apple Bloom said with a sigh.

“Ain’t she been doing that all week?”

“Yeah, but they weren’t done yet when Scootaloo and I went by.”

They heard the flutter of wings in the air above them. Applejack looked up. “Well, dress-making’s no easy business,” she said absently.

“Applejack, can I ask you somethin’?”

“You sure can, sugarcube.” Applejack was still looking upwards at the roof of the farmhouse. What was the likelihood that bats were roosting in the timbers? She ought to ask Fluttershy to check up on all the wild critters around the farm, make certain they were all behaving themselves.

“We wrote an entry in Twilight’s journal about Trouble Shoes,” Apple Bloom said. “I was looking at the entries I haven’t read yet, and I found lots about something called cutie unmarking.”

Applejack’s ears twitched. She turned and looked intently at Apple Bloom.

“She was also talkin’ about Starlight Glimmer a whole lot.”

“Consarn it, Twilight,” Applejack muttered.

Though Apple Bloom hadn’t asked a proper question thus far, the tension radiating off her sister was difficult to ignore. “What? What’s wrong?”

The silence that followed her question was uncomfortable. Applejack watched the faint twinkling of two stars just above the horizon, the first of many that would appear in the night sky. Princess Luna would raise the moon shortly.

“Sometimes I think you’re too interested in cutie marks for your own good,” Applejack finally said.

Although she already felt rebuked, Apple Bloom answered, “But how can I not be? I don’t have my cutie mark yet.” She glanced back at her flank automatically. The dirty mark caused by sliding along the floor in the castle was still there. Even in the gathering gloom only wishful thinking could make it look like a real cutie mark.

“We’ve talked about this, sugarcube,” Applejack said, frustration creeping into her voice.

“Just because I know that it don’t matter what it is, and just because it’s nice that we helped Trouble Shoes, doesn’t mean I don’t want my cutie mark.”

Applejack heaved a sigh. “I know.”

“And I don’t want to have a cutie unmarking,” Apple Bloom said deliberately.

“You won’t.” Applejack gave the farmyard a final once-over for the day. “Come inside now and I’ll tell you a bit about it, since I know that’s what you’re really askin’.”

At the kitchen table, Apple Bloom helped herself to a couple of slices of pie. It felt like it had been a long time since she’d eaten back at the castle. Winona came in at Applejack’s call, panting happily. Apple Bloom gave her an affectionate scratch behind the ears.

After she’d closed the front door Applejack actually took her hat off. Joining Apple Bloom at the table with a yawn, she began.

“The town me and the girls went to thanks to that crystal map of Twilight’s was run by Starlight Glimmer. Looked like just an ordinary village, although Pinkie Pie didn’t like it, not one bit.” Apple Bloom’s ears perked up at that. “But every one of the ponies living there had the same cutie mark.”

Apple Bloom choked momentarily on the piece of pie she was eating. She stared at Applejack.

“T’were an equals sign.” Applejack moved her hoof in a straight line through the air twice for emphasis. “Starlight Glimmer was mighty good at magic; as good as Twilight was when she came to live in Ponyville, I reckon, though I’m no magic judge. Strong enough to cast a spell that can replace a pony’s true cutie mark with that equals sign.”

Apple Bloom gasped. “Why would she do that?”

“The ponies asked her to. They all had it in their heads that havin’ different cutie marks and talents makes ponies fight, and that makes ‘em miserable in the end. Starlight thought that too.” Applejack snorted lightly. “By all having the same cutie mark, you’re all equal and friendly, and you never argue with each other. Theoretically. But real friendship isn’t about never arguing.” There was a firm edge in Applejack’s voice.

“What’s a cutie unmarking, then?”

“That’s just the name they had for when Starlight took away their cutie marks,” Applejack said, frowning at an invisible mark on the table. She rubbed it firmly with her hoof. “Differences do lead to arguments sometimes, sugarcube. But you can learn a lot from ponies who aren’t like you.”

“Is that all?”

Applejack shifted on her seat. “Pretty much… Like I told ya before, we showed those ponies what true friendship is, differences an’ all. They came around and they got their individual cutie marks back.” She pushed her mane up and wiped her forehead. “So there’ll be no more cutie unmarkings, not for any pony, and certainly not for you. You don’t hafta think about that no more.”

Winona had fallen asleep in front of the stove. Apple Bloom finished her pie. “I thought maybe it was something that happened to old ponies that no one told me about,” she admitted. Applejack chuckled, shaking her head.

Apple Bloom frowned after a few seconds of thought. “So were all the ponies happy with having the same cutie mark until y’all got there?”

Though she was loath to do so, Applejack admitted, “Most of them were.” Concerned that Apple Bloom looked at her flank without giving any indication of what she was thinking about, Applejack added, “But they were even happier to have their real cutie marks back.”

Applejack was well aware of how much she was leaving out of the story. It made her dreadfully uncomfortable. But she didn’t want to tell Apple Bloom about Starlight Glimmer. She could be utterly honest and paint Starlight as the villain she was, but she just didn’t have the heart or stomach to tell Apple Bloom that her cutie mark had been forcibly removed by a pony who didn’t care what she believed in. She didn’t want Apple Bloom to know such ponies even existed. Not yet.

Applejack evaded giving away any further information when answering the few questions that followed. Mostly she just clarified what she’d already said. Apple Bloom was certainly interested, but not overly so, and she wasn’t falling prey to Starlight’s foolish way of thinking. Applejack would have been more proud of that if she hadn’t been apprehensive about what else Twilight might have written in the Journal of Friendship.

“Are you three going over to the castle tomorrow to help with the books, like you said?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Apple Bloom said. “Least, me and Scoot are.”

Applejack nodded and excused herself. Normally, given the long day she’d had, she would go to bed with the chickens. She was looking forward to a good night of sleep. But she didn’t want to hear any more about Starlight Glimmer if it could be avoided. So she decided to head on over to see Twilight. She could get there while it was still vaguely excusable to visit.

The moon had just finished rising when she set off, and the grass in front of the castle was bathed in picturesque silver light by the time she arrived. She paused. Twilight Sparkle’s castle truly looked like something out of a story book in this lighting.

Applejack blamed her weariness for that kind of fanciful thinking. Why, it was worthy of Rarity.

She hesitated, and then knocked on the great golden door. The castle was Twilight and Spike’s home. Perhaps she had more right than most to call at this time of night without announcing an emergency. But just because Applejack had decorated the kitchen to her own liking and had her own throne here didn’t mean she could waltz in without showing common courtesy. She wouldn’t dream of just walking right into Fluttershy’s cottage.

Twilight opened the door, looking surprised. “Applejack? What are you doing here so late?”

“Sorry, Twilight. I need to talk to ya about something.”

“No, it’s okay, it’s just a little late. Spike’s already gone to bed. What’s going on?” She stepped aside to let Applejack enter the castle.

They walked side-by-side through the foyer. In truth Applejack wasn’t entirely sure where they were going, but she soon recognised that they were heading for the kitchen. “I know that Apple Bloom was here earlier today with Scootaloo,” she began.

“Oh, yes. We had a great time together.”

“She said that. She also said they’re helping you rearrange your library books tomorrow, too.”

“Yeah, I’ve been needing to do it for a while. And I would not be surprised if re-shelving day takes more than one day here. We can definitely use the assistance. Is that the problem?”

“No, course not. It’s something else. She told me that they wrote about the Appleoosa Rodeo in the Journal of Friendship.”

“Yes. Oh!” Twilight smiled sincerely at Applejack. “Would you like to write something as well? That would be terrific.” She clopped her front hooves together excitedly.

Applejack wasn’t sure whether to laugh or snap at her friend. She groaned slightly instead and Twilight instantly looked worried, leaning in to study Applejack more closely. “Gosh, you look really tired. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I should let you finish, shouldn’t I?”

“That’d be real good of ya,” Applejack agreed.

“Okay. Go on.”

“When Apple Bloom was done writing in the journal, she started flickin’ back to read whatever she hadn’t already, I guess. Did you happen to notice that?”

Twilight shook her head as they walked into the kitchen. A wall of pleasant warmth hit Applejack and then surrounded her: there was a healthy fire burning in the hearth. If the books on the table were any indication, Twilight was practically camped out in here. No wonder, considering the winter chill that still lingered throughout the vast castle.

Applejack instantly felt more at ease in these surroundings, even though the pie dishes were as-yet unused and she could tell by sight that some of the apples in one of the wooden baskets were going rotten. She could admit that the farm décor didn’t match the castle’s crystal nature as well as Rarity’s gem-lined curtains and bright flowers did, but it still made her feel better.

“I’ll make some s’mores,” Twilight said. “Want a few?”

Owlowiscious was perched on a shelf beside the clock. He hooted in greeting when Applejack looked in his direction, finding the time wasn’t as late as she felt like it was.

“That would be great, Twilight, if yer willing.”

“Of course. You were saying about the journal?”

“Well, Apple Bloom said that you’ve written a whole heap about what happened when we followed the map and met Starlight Glimmer.”

Twilight retracted her head from inside a cupboard, the necessary ingredients for s’mores held in the embrace of her magic. “I did write quite a lot after we got back. More than just a friendship lesson. There was just so much to think about.”

“What did you write?” Applejack asked, and concealed a yawn behind her hoof.

“Well, I did write about what we learned about friendship, of course,” Twilight said seriously as she began to select marshmallows for toasting. “I wrote about Sugar Belle and the other ponies choosing to stay in the village and renew their friendship. Then… I suppose I got a little off-topic, at least as far as the journal is concerned. I recognised most of the spells that Starlight Glimmer cast, but I’ve never encountered a spell like the one she cast to remove our cutie marks before.”

Twilight looked over her shoulder and wings at her cutie mark. Applejack empathised with her expression of discomfort.

“That’s a powerful spell, Applejack,” Twilight said, turning her attention back to the marshmallows. There was a small frown on her face.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Applejack agreed avidly.

Twilight gave her a funny little smile. “I started trying to understand how it works. I didn’t get very far. I’m still trying. There must be a book that contains her spell, but I haven’t found it yet. That’s actually one reason why I need to re-shelve my books. I haven’t even been able to file all of them yet.”

“I assumed you did that while you were moving in, before all the trouble with the map.” Without being asked, Applejack began to toast the marshmallows over the fire.

“I did. The library wasn’t full, so I asked Celestia to send more books. Maybe I shouldn’t have. With the map, and then avoiding the castle, and then clearing autumn away… I kept meaning to sort the new books in but I didn’t have time. And they just kept coming! I must have a whole wing of the Canterlot Archives here by now.” Twilight pulled an exasperated face.

“And that’s so bad,” Applejack said, elongating the word ‘so’. She smirked, in case she’d sounded mean.

“Hm!” Twilight snickered, colour rising in her cheeks.

“That’s what I thought,” Applejack answered. The heat of the fire felt mighty nice against her face. “But I thought ya made schedules to stop you from forgetting to do things like sort out your books.”

“I do,” Twilight confirmed. “But there’s been such a lot to do since becoming the Princess of Friendship, and such a lot of reading as well. My schedules are… harder to keep to.”

Applejack idly wondered how Twilight had avoided a nervous episode or three if that was true. Spike did more for Twilight than either of them really let on.

“Since I live here, I kept putting off sorting out these books in order to visit Celestia and Luna’s old castle. There are so many books there as well, and it seemed like I could organise my own books at any time. But even there I haven’t been able to find any mention of a spell that can remove and replace cutie marks. And then I visited Celestia, and we had winter wrap-up day, and…”

Twilight kept talking as Applejack poked one of the marshmallows. It wasn’t ready yet but Applejack ate it anyway; couldn’t use a less-than-perfect marshmallow for a s’more. Applejack imagined that her reasoning would appeal to Rarity’s finicky nature, although there was no understanding that one sometimes. “Princess Celestia?” she repeated absent-mindedly.

“Funnily enough, she said she’d ask Luna. Actually, I haven’t heard anything else about it from her.”

Applejack blinked abruptly. The flames were mesmerising. She steered them back to the reason for her visit. “So did ya write about anything else in the journal, or just your thinkin’ about that spell?”

“Oh, no, I realised very soon that I needed separate notes for the spell.” Twilight divided the chocolate into pieces and placed each piece on an individual cracker. “Let me think. I also wrote about the noticeable properties of the equality cutie sign, and why I thought ponies might start to believe in Starlight’s teachings. Maybe a few other things.”

“You must have had a lot on your mind,” Applejack said, “not that I blame ya.” The marshmallows were now sufficiently toasted and Applejack trotted back to the table with them.

“Yes, I did.” Twilight quickly made a plateful of s’mores and the pair began to eat. “And it’s really nice to talk to you about what happened, actually. But it doesn’t explain why you felt the need to come over here tonight.”

“Oh, yeah. Apple Bloom came home and started asking me about Starlight. I told her as much of the truth as I dared, but—but I didn’t mention what Starlight did to us.” The memory made Applejack cringe. Briefly, her s’more didn’t look so appetising.

Twilight blanched. “Oh. I can see why you wouldn’t.”

“I don’t want to lie to her. See though, I don’t know if I could if she was askin’ more about it. So, I guess I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind… you know, making sure she can’t read no more about Starlight when she’s here tomorrow?”

Twilight didn’t answer immediately. Applejack waited patiently. “Of course, if you really want, but are you sure that’s the best idea?” Twilight inquired eventually. She’d told Spike and though he’d obviously been distressed, she was glad he knew what had happened. Then again, Spike was older than Apple Bloom, and more knowledgeable about the world.

“I am,” Applejack said firmly. “Look, maybe we can tell her - and her friends - the real truth at some point. Maybe even real soon, if it’s all gettin’ too complicated. But she’s still a little filly. I don’t want her thinking about somepony doing that to us if she don’t have to.”

“She might not understand it fully.”

“My little sister ain’t a box of rocks,” Applejack said churlishly. When Twilight gave her an askance look, she amended herself. “What I mean is she’ll understand enough for it to give her nightmares.”

“All right,” Twilight conceded. “I think it would be a good idea to talk to our friends about this though. If Apple Bloom’s interested in Starlight Glimmer…”

“She’s probably told Scootaloo already,” Applejack finished, sighing. “Sweetie Belle next. Then they’ll all be asking questions. Those fillies really are obsessed with their cutie marks. I reckon that’s why Apple Bloom even noticed what you wrote, like a magpie seein’ something shiny. She didn’t mention nothin’ about what we learned making that chandelier.”

They’d cleared the plate of s’mores. “I’m sure we can get everypony together to talk about it soon,” Twilight promised. One could argue it was only important that they speak with Rarity and Rainbow Dash, but as Twilight was already involved and Pinkie Pie was an honorary Apple, it seemed natural to include Fluttershy.

“Thanks, sugarcube.” Applejack smiled. “I best be getting back on home now.”

“Will you be okay?” Twilight joined her as she headed for the hallway. “I meant it earlier when I said you looked tired. I thought you were going to fall asleep right here in my kitchen a couple of times.”

Applejack flushed. “I’ll be fine,” she reassured Twilight. “I’m-a heading straight to bed, don’t you worry about that.”

“Okay. We should do this again. I mean, have s’mores around the fire, not freak out about Starlight Glimmer.”

“Reckon we’ll have plenty o’ chances to do both in the future,” Applejack said.

“Probably,” Twilight said pensively.

At the door they said their good nights and farewells and Applejack set off for Sweet Apple Acres at a swift but sustainable canter. Her hoof beats and breathing were all that she could hear as she passed through the centre of Ponyville. The town was different at night. Shadows softened the edges of the buildings. The moon and the stars gave the whole place a serene, not-quite-eerie sense of timelessness.

Any more of this fancy thinking and Applejack thought she might have to declare herself a dreamer rather than an eminently practical pony. She shook her head and cantered on home, heeding the call of her bed and the blessed silence of sleep.

Comments

[RealityCheck]

Smores:

Two graham crackers, one piece of chocolate, one mallow.
Put chocolate on top of one graham cracker.
Toast mallow.
Put mallow quickly on top of chocolate.
Put other cracker on top, mash down.
Give a second for chocolate to get warm and gooey.
Eat.

[Astrarian]

5951920 Thanks! I don't think I made Twilight and Applejack do it wrong then.

[RealityCheck]