The Shape of a Question

by Astrarian

5. Wake

Just as the parched soil of Ponyville eagerly absorbed the first few hours of rainfall, so too did Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom initially absorb the story of Starlight Glimmer and the cutie unmarking.

Rainbow Dash came to check on Rarity and Applejack in the throne room. The fillies predictably followed, with Spike, Twilight, Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie right behind them. As soon as she realised Applejack had acquiesced to tell Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo about their adventure Pinkie Pie took full and immediate advantage of the Cutie Map and the furniture to dramatically demonstrate the train journey and how she approached Starlight’s village. The others, entertained, silently agreed it would be easier to stay in the throne room for the recounting.

Spike grumbled about having to carry the nachos back across the castle and reheat them yet again as if he was a waiter rather than a friend. Heartfelt thanks soothed his irritation. Anyway, it was great to sit down for a while.

The fillies rolled their eyes fondly when Rarity denounced the town’s non-existent sense of design, giggled at Pinkie Pie’s dramatic retelling of how she ate a dozen of the worst muffins ever, and their eyes grew wide at the idea of a lofty vault containing dozens of cutie marks.

“I’d never seen anything like it,” Rarity said, consciously echoing Twilight’s observation at the time. “There must have been at least a hundred cutie marks in the vault.”

“Wow,” Apple Bloom breathed.

“But that wasn’t all. There was a staff there too that Starlight claimed she used to ‘free ponies from their cutie marks’.” Rainbow flapped her forelegs and then nickered contemptuously.

“You said it was Starlight’s magic that replaced cutie marks, not a staff,” Sweetie Belle recalled, puzzled.

“Exactly. But we didn’t know that then, although I got a bit suspicious when she said it,” Twilight said. “I didn’t remember anything about the eastern mage Meadowbrook having an enchanted staff. I studied Meadowbrook a lot when we came home, actually; she had some fascinating ideas about the inherent magical power of objects.”

Spike snickered. Rainbow Dash affectionately rolled her eyes at Twilight, who tittered bashfully. “What Twilight’s basically trying to say is Starlight lied to us,” Rainbow explained.

Apple Bloom’s eyes slid in Applejack’s direction. Though her anger dissipated throughout the course of the story, she’d maintained her distance from her older sister, who’d taken a seat on her throne and was yet to contribute to the tale in any meaningful way.

Applejack noticed and said grimly, “Darn right she did.”

Pinkie was standing below Rainbow Dash on the Cutie Map itself. “Anyway, then she grabbed the staff and started spinning it around,” she said, rotating one hoof demonstrably.

“Yeah, she wasn’t happy,” Rainbow Dash said, pulling a face.

Pinkie awkwardly traced her hoof along Equestria’s eastern shoreline. “Then I gave away that Sugar Belle and the others missed their cutie marks. I didn’t know it would make her so upset.”

“You could hardly have known what she was about to do, darling,” Rarity reassured Pinkie.

“I’m pretty sure she was just waiting for an excuse,” Rainbow Dash agreed in a low voice. “Ow!” she exclaimed as she bumped her head against one of the low-hanging chandelier gems. She must have been flapping her wings more forcefully than usual.

With a clink, Rainbow Dash took the gem in hoof to scrutinise its memory more closely. The gem depicted the camping trip to Winsome Falls where Rainbow first took Scootaloo under her wing: six ponies smiling in front of prismatic cascades. They’d chosen to imbue the gems with events Twilight hadn’t been present for but had helped the rest learn important lessons about friendship and family. Such moments were in keeping with Twilight’s self-appointed mission; as Princess Celestia pointed out, the Princess of Friendship wasn’t much without her friends.

“An excuse to do what?” Apple Bloom asked uneasily.

So this is it, Applejack thought, and she inhaled audibly both to better stomach the magnitude of the approaching moment and to indicate she wished to speak. “Rarity tried to say sorry, as if it were our fault Sugar Belle and Party Favour weren’t happy. But Starlight Glimmer wasn’t havin’ it.”

“I stepped away - Starlight was making me uncomfortable, you see – and there was a pony standing right behind me,” Rarity said. Apprehension had flooded her body when she bumped into Double Diamond. She looked over her own withers impulsively, almost expecting to see a zealous grin.

“There were ponies all around us,” Fluttershy said in a near whisper. Pinkie hopped off the map onto Twilight’s throne and bounced over Spike’s head to the ground, so she could trot over to put a consoling foreleg around Fluttershy’s withers.

“It was a trap,” Applejack said. “They weren’t lettin’ us out of that cave with our cutie marks.”

“W-what do you mean?” Scootaloo asked. Rainbow Dash was still hovering above the Cutie Map, so Scootaloo sidled towards Fluttershy and Pinkie.

“It was a trap to take our cutie marks away,” Twilight repeated. “I wanted to use my shield magic to protect everypony.” She spread her wings and suddenly teleported, reappearing above the Cutie Map in a flash. She glared down at the other ponies, and Sweetie Belle squeaked as magic sparked dangerously at the tip of Twilight’s horn.

Twilight’s facial expression became disconsolate. “But I wasn’t fast enough,” she told everyone, slowly descending to sit on her throne. “Starlight cast the cutie unmarking spell on me, and once she’d taken my cutie mark she cast it on everypony else too.”

All three Crusaders gasped and stared at their elders with dismay. Twilight folded her wings and looked elsewhere, which caused Spike to worriedly interlace his claws.

“I know y’all think I’ve been lying – and I admit, you could have a point – but I’m being honest here,” Applejack said. She wrapped her tail around her backside tightly, covering her right cutie mark from sight. “That spell hurt like no-pony’s business. Kinda like a snakebite and a pulling a muscle, only about a thousand times worse. That’s what I didn’t want ya to know.”

Sweetie Belle whimpered. She wanted to hide her face against Rarity’s barrel but she also didn’t want to miss any important facial expressions.

Rarity stroked Sweetie Belle’s crest and mane reassuringly. She actually remembered very little of the unmarking itself. Starlight Glimmer’s self-satisfied tone and smirk, however, were a familiar memory.

“It hurt way worse than when you fall over or hit your head or eat so many terrible muffins you think you’re gonna explode,” Pinkie Pie said, with none of her physical zest. Her haunches ached.

“It was horrible,” Fluttershy murmured.

“I’m going to go and make some more nachos,” Spike excused himself abruptly. He hurried out of the throne room. Taken aback, Twilight and Rarity glanced at one another.

“Was Starlight sorry for hurting you?” Apple Bloom asked, swallowing.

Rainbow Dash snorted. The expression on Apple Bloom’s face made Applejack resist her desire to do the same. “Not at all,” Twilight asserted quietly.

Fluttershy extended her wing towards Scootaloo as she sat down. Scootaloo gratefully huddled under the psychological protection Fluttershy’s wing offered. Rainbow Dash immediately joined them, a little frustrated. Sure, it made sense that Fluttershy would make such a sisterly gesture, but Scootaloo’s morose expression made her wish she’d thought to do it first. Scootaloo peered up at her from beneath the feathers of Fluttershy’s wing, so Rainbow Dash ruffled her mane. She was relieved to see and feel some of Scootaloo’s tension ebb away.

“Starlight Glimmer cast that spell and not one of us could fight it,” Applejack said, looking at her little sister. “She took our real cutie marks away and locked ‘em in the vault, and left us with those equal signs y’all know about. But they weren’t just for show. We lost our talents; even lost some of our individuality. I couldn’t make countryisms. I couldn’t buck properly. I wasn’t even lookin’ forward to next apple-bucking day.”

Alarmed and perplexed, Apple Bloom inhaled with a judder.

“Starlight told us life was so much better without different cutie marks,” Pinkie Pie said before blowing a disdainful raspberry. “Puh-lease.”

“Then she told us we’d spend the rest of our lives in the village,” Twilight said.

The notion was the final straw for Apple Bloom. Her older sister had been hurt and told she could never come home. The idea of their family home without Applejack was one of the worst things ever, and to think of her without her love for Sweet Apple Acres—

Apple Bloom broke into a gallop and jumped into Applejack’s waiting embrace.

“The ponies took us back into town,” Twilight said. “We were put in a house to undergo Starlight Glimmer’s equalisation process.” She gritted her jaw. Pinkie hopped closer to Twilight with the plate of nachos, offering her the final one. Though it was cold, Twilight appreciated the gesture, but the nacho reminded her of Spike’s worrying departure.

“Didn’t y’all try to get away?” Apple Bloom asked throatily. Applejack could feel her sister’s heart thumping.

“Sure tried, sugarcube,” Applejack replied. Starlight Glimmer had magically restrained her when she refused to stop trying to buck her way to freedom. “But we were too weak.” She stamped her hoof against the map.

“Yeah.” Rainbow Dash squirmed. Her flank and her wings had let her down. Until that day she’d always been fantastic at flying, and found being reduced to an average flyer far more distressing than simply losing her wings (as happened the first time she met Discord). To alleviate her discomfort, she took to the air, flying once around the room before returning to hover over her fellow pegasi.

“What’s equalisation?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“They played a tape about their philosophy,” Rarity replied, using her magic and a napkin to wipe away Sweetie Belle’s tears. “I don’t recall how Starlight phrased it…”

“I do,” Twilight said darkly. “‘To excel is to fail,’” she quoted. “‘Free yourself from your cutie mark. You’re no better than your friends.’”

“They were trying to brainwash us,” Fluttershy said softly, as Applejack felt Apple Bloom shiver.

Sweetie Belle sniffled audibly. Rarity decided the time for gloom was over. She kissed the top of her sister’s head. “Now, dry your tears, Sweetie,” she instructed. “I know it sounds horrible, and it was. But we stand here now as testament that it didn’t work!” She pranced on the spot and flourished her mane.

Scootaloo’s spirits were raised by Rarity’s display. “Oh, yeah,” she recalled sheepishly. “But how’d you fix everything?”

“Well, there were many facets at play, but I think Rainbow Dash would say it was because somepony was particularly awesome,” Rarity said, smiling in Fluttershy’s direction.

“Fluttershy?” Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo said together.

“Oh, my.” Fluttershy hung her head demurely. “I didn’t really do anything.”

“Are you kidding? You were definitely awesome!” Pinkie enthused, totally on board with lifting the despondent mood. She bounced up and down on the spot. “As awesome as Sugar Belle’s muffins and cupcakes on Monday and that time you made the tornado! Whoosh!”

“Well, almost as radical,” Rainbow Dash agreed playfully. “That was pretty epic.”

Hidden behind the pink curtain of her mane, a timid blush flared on Fluttershy’s cheeks. “Really, girls, I think we owe it to some other ponies as well,” she said.

“I already said Sugar Belle was awesome, silly. But I guess I can say it again.” Pinkie Pie reared back and spread her front hooves with a grin. A selection of colourful streamers burst above her mane in a tiny explosion. “As awesome as Sugar Belle’s muffins and cupcakes on Monday and when you made the tornado. Yay!” she cried in a near-perfect imitation of Fluttershy.

Everypony except Apple Bloom giggled. Applejack soon stopped chuckling. Her fears weren’t exactly laid to rest by the way that Apple Bloom clung to her leg.

“Yes,” Rarity agreed with Fluttershy and Pinkie, “we wouldn’t have gotten far without our four new friends…”

They recounted the rest of their adventure with renewed cheer. Twilight was fascinated to hear her friends’ personal opinions on how the equality cutie marks had affected them. However, the undue praise she received for her role discomfited more than flattered her. Her well-practised speech about the benefits of friendship had fallen spectacularly on deaf ears, twice. So while Pinkie enthusiastically re-enacted how Starlight Glimmer’s hypocrisy was exposed, Twilight excused herself to track down Spike.

Before going to the kitchen she permitted herself a few minutes to review the state of the library, since it was located near the throne room. The task of re-shelving was by no means complete, though Twilight could probably organise and shelve the rest of the books by herself within a few hours. Still, she noticed that several of the ordered book piles were smaller than before.

Twilight swiftly deduced that Owlowiscious or Spike must be responsible, possibly both. “Spike, are you in here?” she queried. “Owlowiscious?”

An answering hoot, muffled by objects between the origin of the sound and Twilight’s position, came from further within the library. Twilight checked behind a couple of filled bookshelves. Owlowiscious perched on the lowest rung of a rolling ladder, head-height with Spike, who slouched against the bookshelf with his tail in his lap. A Power Ponies comic lay abandoned at Spike’s feet. Aside from Spike and his comic, the floor of the first half of the aisle was completely clear. Further down the aisle some of the books on the floor had been divided into separate piles.

“You said you were going to make more nachos,” Twilight said. “What are you doing? Did you do all this instead?”

Spike sighed heavily. “No. I just organised those ones over there. The rest was Owlowiscious being perfect, as usual.”

“What’s wrong?” Twilight stepped closer, sharing a concerned look with Owlowiscious.

After a few pensive moments, Spike asked her quietly, “If I wasn’t your assistant, would you have told me about Starlight Glimmer?”

Owlowiscious spread his wings and took off gracefully. His wingbeats added to the soft background percussion of thrumming rain and their friends’ barely-audible voices.

“What do you mean?” Twilight lay down beside the dragon, eyebrows low over her eyes.

“You said you told me about the cutie unmarking because your studying doesn’t go as well without my help,” Spike said around the lump in his throat. “And that’s nice and all. But why didn’t you say the spell was painful? Don’t you… trust me? Did you only tell me about the whole thing because you couldn’t study such a big spell without my help?”

“Of course I trust you,” Twilight said. “You’re my best and oldest friend, Spike.”

“So why didn’t you tell me in the first place? Did you think I couldn’t handle it either?” Spike huffed.

“I knew you could handle it, Spike.” Twilight considered her words, fidgeting as she did. She crossed and uncrossed her forelegs, and then sighed. “I didn’t want to upset you.”

“I wouldn’t have been upset,” Spike lied. That a painful spell had been cast on all of his friends without their permission made him both clench his claws and blink away tears. That was exactly why he’d left the throne room in the first place. He wasn’t ready to admit this out loud to Twilight on top of his self-doubt though.

“I didn’t want to talk about that aspect of the unmarking for another reason either,” Twilight said dispassionately, letting the denial pass by without comment. “I can’t concentrate on my studies and my duties if I’m getting distracted by the fact the spell hurt a bit. Researchers have to stay detached and unbiased.”

“But, Twilight, I’m your friend,” Spike contended. “I should’ve done something more to help you. I could’ve done some more chores around the castle, o-or been more supportive when we were studying.” Refusing to spend any time after dark at Princess Celestia and Princess Luna’s former castle was just one example of how he had failed Twilight.

“You were totally supportive, Spike, and you did help me, just by being yourself.” Twilight smiled at Spike. “I’m okay.”

Spike kicked at the comic that lay at his feet. The Mane-iac grinned diabolically at Twilight from the front cover. This was Spike’s new copy of the Power Ponies issue that the seven of them had experienced first-hoof. In spite of their enchanted adventure in the world of Maretropolis - or because of it - Spike remained an avid reader of the comic series.

“What else are you worrying about?” Twilight asked, raising her eyes from the Mane-iac.

“I just feel like I missed out on something really important, like always,” he admitted. “Maybe I could’ve done something if I’d been there. Her spell wouldn’t have worked on me.”

“Maybe you’re right, but neither of us can change that now. And you didn’t miss out. We haven’t exactly talked to each other about what happened there until now. I should have asked everypony, actually,” Twilight said thoughtfully, rubbing her chin groove. “From what I remember, the town ponies weren’t hurt by the spell. Perhaps the magic responds differently to ponies who aren’t happy to have their cutie marks changed.”

“Or Starlight Glimmer was just a jerk,” Spike muttered.

Twilight looked around with the air of one inspired. “Have we finished the magic section yet?”

Spike made a sweeping gesture, indicating the books still heaped on the floor. “Does it look like it?” Owlowiscious carried categorised books in his talons to the bookshelves, one by one, but there was still much to be done to complete re-shelving day.

“No, I suppose not,” Twilight bemoaned.

Spike scratched the scales above his eye. “Don’t worry. I bet we can finish your checklist today. But maybe we should check on the others. I’m sorry I didn’t do what I said I was going to do,” he mumbled.

“Oh, Spike, don’t worry about it,” Twilight said, hugging him.

Being so close to Twilight’s body meant Spike felt her shift again, as though some piece of grit on the floor was irritating her. She settled and they sat in that comforting fashion for a few moments. The pitter-patter of the heavy rain shower and her body heat stirred the dormant, drowsy contentment Spike had felt that morning in bed. He hoped it would still be raining by the time he went to bed.

---

Dear Twilight Sparkle,
I cannot help but notice that Ponyville’s current rain shower is overrunning by at least two hours. The river will likely suffer the same fate in the near future. I posit that both Cloudsdale and Ponyville will benefit from a swift draining of Ponyville’s lowland reservoir.

I have already composed a message to the Water Transfer Authority in Cloudsdale. They will be sending the emergency tornado team to Ponyville in due course. Please inform Mayor Mare, Rainbow Dash, the weather team and all local pegasi that their assistance will be required.

Urgently,

Princess Celestia

---

Rain lashed against her hindquarters as she galloped through the streets of Ponyville, running from Twilight’s castle in pursuit of Rarity, Apple Bloom and Applejack.

“Come back!” she yelled. “Where are you going?”

Her hometown had never been more intimidating. The hulking dome of the town hall loomed ahead. Shadows dripped from the eaves of the houses.

Lightning slashed a bright cleft across the sky. She threw up her hoof to protect her eyes, trying to slow down to stop herself from falling. But the rest of her legs kept running regardless, faster, faster, and yet time seemed to drag until she inevitably lost her balance.

“Stop!” she screamed, operatic. “Wait f—”

Bitter-tasting dirt filled her mouth, gritty between her violently chattering teeth.

She was lying in a puddle of dirty water, and the mud was like ice. Her whole body ached with the cold. Pain made the edges of her hooves curl.

Breathe steadily, don’t panic. Concentrate. Don’t try to swallow the microphone. Take your time.

But it was impossible to take the deep breaths needed for a good performance when she was so cold.

The rain was icy too. She raised her head and droplets stung her cheeks as though she were a pin cushion.

Apparently Rarity didn’t care that she was lying in the dirt, because her ears drooped and her eyes were shut. Rarity’s other friends lay behind her. Every one of them bore huge bags under their closed eyes. An equality sign stood out starkly on every flank. They made no attempt to speak to one another or to her.

Rainbow Dash’s wings hung limply at either side of her body. Applejack was sprawled on her back in a way that suggested she’d been flung there. Fluttershy, curled up, shuddered with silent, pervasive sobs.

Spike dashed to and fro, shaking the motionless ponies in vain. Pinkie Pie covered her face. Twilight actually turned away from her best friend. She could see that Spike’s mouth questioned, “Rarity?” but his voice was indistinguishable from the pouring rain.

Rarity looked different. She failed to stick out in the darkness even though she should have given her white colouration. The hair beneath her eyes was grey thanks to runny mascara, but somehow didn’t look so different from the rest of her coat. There was a creamy tint to the water in the puddle around Rarity’s body.

She realised that with each raindrop, a little of Rarity’s brilliance washed away, rendering her drab and lifeless. Yellow wisped slowly through the water where Fluttershy’s inert hoof lay. There were polychromatous smears in the mud behind Rainbow Dash that gave the impression her tail was dragging itself listlessly towards its mare. Or away from her.

Spike looked mournfully at Rarity. Rarity suddenly opened her eyes, revealing pupils that consisted of hundreds of tiny equality signs.

She opened her mouth to bawl, and a passing Ponytones jacket kicked a slimy clod of mud into her face.

High-pitched sniggering resonated in the darkness, leading a great hoof-stamping applause. She didn’t need to see her foes to know they were laughing at her grey sister and the gaudy clown make-up covering her face and her muck-stained dress, a scrap of its former beauty.

When she hung her head in shame she saw white splotches in the grime below her chin, beside a mane clasp shaped like a blue diamond.

Another dazzling flash of lightning suddenly lit up Ponyville. The sharp spire atop the town hall winked. Simultaneously a needle of blackness raced across the ground towards her. She rolled away just before the point pierced her flank, squealing.

Rarity’s ensuing scream thundered through her eardrums.

Two by two, teeth with great trees for heads snarled at her. She shrieked and ran.

“We know where we’re goin’!” Apple Bloom cried in the far distance.

“Cutie mark city!” Scootaloo yelled.

“Stop, it’s too dangerous,” she cried. She winced, pain lancing her side with each cantering stride. The rain continued to roar in her ears. All she could do was desperately chase the faint clip-clop of another set of hooves, stifled by the forest.

She’d never reach them. She didn’t want what they wanted. But being with one’s friends in constant misery was better than being alone, lonely, talentless.

Although the storm raged around her, she soon had to stop to catch her breath. Songs she couldn’t sing burned her lungs.

The drumming rain, distant hoof steps and her own gasping contributed to a growing cacophony around her. She flattened her ears protectively but the noise was everywhere, building to a crescendo of a horrible roaring.

“I don’t know where you’re going!” she shouted into the humdrum. “Wait for me—”

And lightning ripped the clouds above her open, exposing a starry sky of violet and sapphire, the moon shiny and round like a fat spool of ribbon. The blazing heavens hurt her eyes. Though she closed them, the incandescent light remained.

A black spot flickered in her eye, her vision; no, it couldn’t, because her eyes were closed. Yet it was coming closer, she couldn’t look away, she couldn’t see anything else: it was her judge, a unicorn coming to take her cutie mark and replace it with the upside-down horseshoe of a voiceless clown.

Thunder rolled again, deep and booming. The black spot spread huge, dark wings—

“We’re going somewhere better!” the thunder announced, and the word echoed: better, better, better!

All of the noise faded rapidly. The rain no longer felt cold.

She opened her eyes. The majestic figure of her princess stood before her, magnificent wings extended in splendour.

“I had hoped we would never meet in such circumstances, Sweetie Belle,” said Princess Luna.

“Luna!” she cried. She barely kept herself from leaping on the princess in relief. Before she had time to feel discourteous Luna stroked her head softly with one sparkling hoof. Incredibly, faint heat emanated from the stars in Luna’s beautiful mane.

“I’m so glad I’m dreaming,” she murmured.

“I would not be so glad to see me if I were you,” Princess Luna said solemnly.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“You are afraid,” Princess Luna stated.

“Oh, Luna,” she sighed. Rain continued to fall, but warmly, with the fragrance of honeysuckle carried on the breeze, a summer shower rather than a freezing downpour. All in all she was reminded of taking a bath in front of a fire burning in the hearth. But she’d never done that.

“May I ask what is troubling you, Sweetie Belle?”

“I don’t think I want my cutie mark at all,” she told the princess. “I used to think they were good things. I was wrong.”

“You fear the unknown,” Princess Luna said. “That is normal. We cannot predict the future… except in certain circumstances. This is one. You cannot deny your cutie mark, Sweetie Belle. If you fear it, your concerns may become real rather than remaining a bad dream.”

“If I don’t have one, it can’t let me down,” she answered. “Everypony keeps saying that it doesn’t matter that we’re blank flanks. It wouldn’t matter if I never got one. Spike doesn’t have one and he’s perfectly happy.”

Princess Luna wrapped one soft, warm wing around her, so close that she could see the individual lustrous barbs of her feathers, glinting with so many shades of dark blue that she couldn’t have begun to name them. She inhaled, filling her nostrils with the aromatic scents of flowers that bloomed at night, jasmine, and cake frosting.

“Ponies have always had cutie marks,” Princess Luna said, retracting her wing. “To imagine Equestria without them is to dream of a different Equestria.”

Now they stood in an astral plane that glowed all around them with the dim and hazy white light of billions of indistinguishable stars. Occasionally an individual star twinkled noticeably. A gentle strumming sound was accompanied by a far-distant choir singing songs that she didn’t know the names of. Her heart swelled with unknown but profound emotion.

Two prominent dark bands crossed the night sky. She gazed up at them, wondering what Starlight Glimmer’s actual dreams of a different Equestria looked like and whether Luna had seen any of them.

“I feel like it’s bad I can sorta understand what Starlight Glimmer wants,” she said, unbidden. There were merits to the idea of equality.

“Simple understanding is never a bad thing,” Princess Luna replied. “But it’s up to you to decide what to do with that understanding.”

She wondered whether Starlight Glimmer could remove cutie marks as well as replacing them. She wondered why cutie mark replacement was the method Starlight Glimmer had chosen. “I suppose I want to know more about her,” she said slowly.

Princess Luna didn’t answer. When she looked around, the princess was gone. In her place a tiny moon oscillated. As she observed it rose over her head, waxing into a fully illuminated disc that hovered briefly. Then it waned into nothingness.

Sweetie Belle opened her eyes as the physical moon dropped below the horizon.

---

The rooster’s exultant call woke Apple Bloom as the sun dawned over Sweet Apple Acres. Her mind was pleasantly empty for a few seconds, before the events of the previous day came rushing back in recollection. She frowned, instantly disheartened, and looked to the side of her bed. The chair Applejack had sat in as she’d fallen asleep was empty.

Upon pushing back the quilt and blankets, she checked for a cutie mark automatically, in case she’d just dreamed that she’d woken up. Even after Princess Luna had visited her she’d still had a couple of dreams like that. She assumed Luna didn’t visit her again because they weren’t nightmares.

Still a blank flank.

Apple Bloom wasn’t sure what to expect as she walked downstairs to the kitchen, except that Winona would be pleased to see her regardless: Applejack with a fatigued expression, maybe, or Big Mac waiting crossly for an explanation of their behaviour the previous evening.

No-pony was in the kitchen, however. Apple Bloom helped herself to one of the last frost apples in the fruit bowl for breakfast. There were fewer than she remembered, which was odd since Granny Smith didn’t eat frost apples (she said they made her gums ache) and they had to be the only variety of apple that Big Mac didn’t like to eat raw, to his eternal shame. But she didn’t think too much of it.

She swivelled a listening ear in the direction of the open window. She heard nothing more than the morning chorus of songbirds: no scuffling that would indicate Winona sniffing the edges of the field or her siblings working in the barn, none of Granny’s habitual humming as she slowly tended the vegetable patch.

Perturbed, she walked to the bottom of the stairs. No floorboard creaked above her. Even the rooster had gone quiet. The silence was unusual, insistently so. The sweet and crisp taste of frost apple lingered on her tongue.

There must be important pre-dawn work that Apple Bloom had simply forgotten about given all of the excitement of the previous day. It was silly to assume something bad had happened—

Something thudded against the front door and she jumped. Calm down, she told herself sternly, shaking off her uneasiness. Probably Big Mac moving a barrel or somethin’ else that’s perfectly normal.

Another thud resounded through the farmhouse. Apple Bloom quickly trotted to the door, but as she reached it, a huge hoof broke through with a crash. Apple Bloom screamed involuntarily.

Splinters and sawdust billowed into her face as another loud bang rattled the door on its hinges.
“Applejack, Granny, help! Help!” she squealed.

“Now that’s just my luck, ain’t it?” said a deep, sorrowful voice outside. “Bein’ thought of as nothin’ other than a common thief.”

The door strained as though a great weight was braced against it. Then suddenly the hoof was retracted. Sunlight streamed through the broken gap in the wood.

Apple Bloom coughed, eyes watering from the mixture of bright light and sawdust. A couple of seconds passed before she realised who was outside.

She pushed the door open as fast as she could, gasping, “Trouble Shoes?”

The door hit her tall friend square in the chest. “Oof!” he grunted, eyes visibly popping even though they were partially covered by his shaggy mane.

In complete opposition to the manner in which they’d first met, Trouble Shoes now fell down very slowly. Apple Bloom felt his impact with the ground through every hoof. His hat fell to cover his eyes.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” Apple Bloom apologised. “You all right?”

“Reckon I’d rise to explain myself to y’all but I don’t quite feel up to it,” he wheezed.

“I’m awful sorry,” Apple Bloom said again. “I didn’t realise you were standing so close to the door. I was just so surprised…”

“Not your fault,” Trouble Shoes answered. She’d forgotten how low his voice was and how slowly he talked. It actually helped to calm her frazzled nerves. “You an’ I know that’s my lot in life.”

She moved his hat so that she could see him properly. “What are ya doing here?” she queried. “And how’d you know where I live?”

“I came by to tell y’all somethin’,” Trouble Shoes said. Over his withers Apple Bloom could see his mobile cabin beyond the archway that marked the boundary of the Apple farmyard. His characteristic hoofprints trailed across the yard.

“Why aren’t you with the rodeo ponies?” she asked, worried that he’d apparently come here all on his own. “I thought you were happy there.”

“It ain’t my luck to be happy with this here cutie mark,” Trouble Shoes said, indicating his flank as stood and once again towered above her. “I came here to thank y’all for tryin’ to help me. Just ain’t meant to be. But I heard of a pony way out past Manehattan who can help me.”

Apple Bloom heard again the voice that had tried to ‘help’ her when she’d been having nightmares. Sounds to me like cutie marks and trouble are two peas in the same pod.

Fear pooled in her stomach. “Why? What happened?”

“Ponies ain’t laughin’ at the show I put on,” he said morosely. “They’re laughin’ at me. Just like them judges did when I got my cutie mark in the first place. Just like they are now.”

He pointed in the direction of the outhouses with his hoof. Apple Bloom had to move so that she could see around the edge of the farmhouse. Applejack, Big Mac and Granny Smith were all standing in front of the outhouses, and they were all pointing right back at Trouble Shoes - and laughing.

Apple Bloom didn’t know how she hadn’t heard it before. Their brays of amusement formed a horrible counterpart to the singing birds, until they drowned the melody out completely. And still they laughed at him. She could hardly believe the sight.

Trouble Shoes stood silently, enduring the humiliation without question, even though he hadn’t put on a show and he wasn’t enjoying it. He didn’t deserve it.

Beneath the shock Apple Bloom’s anger stirred. “Y’all stop that right now!” she shouted.

“I ain’t never seen such a klutz,” Applejack laughed. “Have you, Big Mac?”

“Nnope,” her brother said, happy tears dripping down his cheeks.

Apple Bloom cringed. “Don’t laugh at him!” she yelled, the sweet taste of frost apples turning tart in her mouth.

“That’s all right,” Trouble Shoes said. He was walking away from her towards his mobile cabin. “I’m-a used to it. ‘preciate how y’all made me feel better for a while, but I got to face the truth. Ponies don’t like me. They like me makin’ a fool of myself, ‘specially when I don’t like it.”

“That’s not true!” She galloped in front of him, forcing him to stop. “If you like yourself then other ponies will like you too. They already do like you, not just because you’re the greatest rodeo clown ever. So you’re a bit clumsy! You hafta accept who you are or no matter what, you’ll always feel unlucky. Stay here with me,” she begged. “I like you. I’ll make sure no-pony laughs at you.”

“Cutie marks lead to bitterness and misery,” intoned a mysterious female voice that took a few seconds to fade.

Apple Bloom whirled around. A cloaked figure stood under the Sweet Apple Acres entrance archway. Her horn protruded from beneath the cloak. The rest of her face was covered.

“Starlight Glimmer?” Apple Bloom whispered in growing dread.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Trouble Shoes said gloomily.

“Don’t say that!” Apple Bloom spun to face her friend again. “She’ll—”

Magic enveloped Trouble Shoes, levitating him off the ground. He stared at Apple Bloom in surprise, then at the unicorn behind her. Then his body went rigid and he grunted in a way not dissimilar to how he had when Apple Bloom hit him with the door. “M-my cutie mark!” he gasped.

The upside-down horseshoe was moving of its own accord, like a mouse under a sack. Trouble Shoes moaned in pain, sweat dripping down his face.

Apple Bloom turned on the unicorn. “Let him go,” she warned.

“This is the only way for Trouble Shoes to find real friendship,” the cloaked unicorn said.

The large hoofprint closest to Apple Bloom began to glow with a strange, magical light. Trouble Shoes groaned again. Suddenly his cutie mark appeared in a brilliant flash within the imprint. Apple Bloom gasped as the little emblem shuddered briefly before it was covered by a jar. The catches of the lid closed with an audible snap.

“No!” Apple Bloom yelled in time with a loud thud, denying the truth before her eyes. Wildly she looked behind herself. Trouble Shoes had dropped back onto the ground. A dark equals sign appeared on his flank.

“Why’d you do that?” Apple Bloom cried, facing Starlight Glimmer once more.

“I only did what he wanted,” answered the unicorn.

“That isn’t what he wanted!”

“I don’t care,” the unicorn said, magic enveloping her horn again. Apple Bloom expected to be hit with a spell. What happened was far worse.

“Apple Bloom, help us!”

Applejack’s pained cry fractured the morning. Startled birds flung themselves from their perches, a mass exodus rising into the sky, blotting out the sun. Somewhere, Winona began to howl.

Apple Bloom charged at Starlight Glimmer.

“CEASE!” the unicorn commanded in a voice that shook the world. Apple Bloom bounced harmlessly off a blue shield of magic and landed on something soft and springy - her bed.

A rooster crowed.

---

“Princess Luna?!” Apple Bloom yelled, pushing the bedcovers off her body, fraught with acid panic that roiled in the back of her throat. “Am I dreaming? Please tell me I’m dreaming!”

But she was alone in her bedroom, panting. Dawn penetrated the gap between the curtains.

She heard a thump which indicated Big Mac had rolled out of bed. Winona started barking. Hooves clattered up the stairs. Everything suggested she really was awake. But her fear didn’t wane.

“Apple Bloom?” Applejack demanded, bursting into her bedroom. Big Mac arrived a moment later in a state of his own. Both of their manes were messy. Big Mac wasn’t wearing his work collar yet.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” Apple Bloom heard Granny call out from her own room. Winona was still barking. Even Granny couldn’t sleep through so much noise when sunrise was imminent.

“Apple Bloom, you all right?” Big Mac asked, quickly crossing the room to be at her side. He saw tears in her eyes. It only took a slight nudge to let her know that he was quite willing to be hugged, and Apple Bloom flung her forelegs around his strong neck. She could feel Applejack hovering close by, and she tried to say her sister’s name. All she managed was a strangled whimper.

“Sugarcube, it’s all right, I promise,” Applejack murmured in her ear.

“Dang-it, I’m coming,” Granny called. “My caboose ain’t as spry as it once was, I’ll remind ya!”

They huddled there, siblings currently divided but never broken. At some point Winona came into the room too: Apple Bloom felt the rough, wet touch of her tongue against her back leg.

When Granny joined them, the family was complete. “Now, see here, little seed, you don’t got to fret,” her grandmother comforted her. “We’re here for you. You just let it all out, now, sapling.”

They were Apples to the core. Right now, everything was okay. Apple Bloom tried to concentrate on that rather than on her brand new understanding that it could all be broken in a flash of unwanted magic.

Comments

[Astrarian]

6037996 I can't tell if this means you're annoyed by the story or not.

[RealityCheck]

6038031 I'm a bit annoyed at APPLEJACK at this point.

Or rather maybe this overly common portrayal of her. It seems like the moment a fan hears "element of Honesty" they consider it a personal challenge to write her lying her ass off. Usually it's about paternity or maternity--- Applebloom is really her daughter, or she "adopted" a colt or filly who is actually hers, or is really a thestral/changeling/alicorn, or something along those lines that would have required the Element of Honesty to spend literally YEARS lying to everyone she knew, including her own family... when she can't even convincingly lie about a BIRTHDAY PARTY.

And then when confronted on this obvious preposterousness, the author half-asses some rationalization about how it isn't REALLY a lie...

Not saying it's bad here. This IS the sort of thing someone might do to keep a younger sibling from being hurt--- and yes, more or less it works here because somebody CALLS Applejack on the dishonesty, dammit. Just once or twice though I'd like to see Equestria's most honest pony insisting on being, you know, HONEST. Honesty isn't measured just by how someone's truthful, it's about how they tell the truth even when it hurts--- even when a lie would be more comfortable, or "safer", or "kinder." Because they know that lies cause ignorance and ignorance causes as much harm in life as wickedness if not more. (TL;DR :Lies always bite you in the ass.)

[Astrarian]

6038154 Thanks for taking the time to clarify your opinion, and for sticking with it this far! I definitely see your point. If you've come across so many stories where Applejack is lying then I understand why you're frustrated. I didn't realise so many stories portray her as such (haven't read many pony stories in general, being new to this area of the fandom).