//------------------------------//
// Chapter IV 
// Story: Friendship Was Magic 
// by Error732 
//------------------------------//

When Applebloom asked passing ponies about Fluttershy, the few who did not simply turn their noses puzzled over the familiar, but yet elusive name. It was not until the third or fourth time that a pony of particularly determined meditation exclaimed, "Of course! She's the pretty little thing that Prince Blueblood brought home from—what was it?"

"Ponyville?" offered Applebloom.

"Ah, yes, Ponyville!" And with a self-contented laugh, the anonymous pony trotted off on polished hooves.

The Blueblood estate announced itself so bombasticly, it was impossible to miss. Cylindrical, slate-shingled towers cut a tall, ivory-white palisade cut into sections adorned with high windows of fine glass. A wrought iron fence held the world at a sterile distance, its only gate guarded on either side by guards in bronze barding.

When Applebloom approached, the watchmen blocked her path. "Prince Blueblood does not entertain without an appointment," said the first.

Applebloom sagged her shoulders under the bulky, looming figures. "I—I'm not here to see Prince Blueblood; I'm here to visit Fluttershy."

The gatekeepers exchanged skeptical glances. "Is Lady Fluttershy expecting you?" asked the second.

"I'm an old friend, honest. From Ponyville. My name is Applebloom, and I only need a minute of her time."

The guards recoiled slightly, either out of consideration for her request or repugnance. The first shrugged at the second. The second tilted its head at the first. A reluctant nod. At last, they returned their attention to Applebloom.

"You will wait here while Lady Fluttershy is given word of your presence."

They apparently didn't trust her to wait on her own, because one of them remained at the gate while the other wrestled through ring of keys. The gate opened; the guard walked mechanically to the door of the estate, knocked, and waited. A doorman answered, conferred in inaudible tones with the guard, and then disappeared back inside. More waiting. The doorman reappeared, and the guard returned to fetch Applebloom.

"Lady Fluttershy, exhibiting her great generosity, has deigned it acceptable to favor you with an audience. You will come with me."

Thus, Applebloom was escorted by a series of white gloves and crisp collars past a nigh unending series of tiled corridors and silk tapestries. When she was sure her legs would collapse from walking, she was led through a set of ornate double doors into a room lined with vases of fresh flowers, dressers littered with cosmetics and perfume, armoires packed with over-conceptualized dresses, and one dress in particular, mildly stuffed with Fluttershy.

"H-hello, Applebloom."

Applebloom's eyes were nearly as wide as the room. "Fluttershy, is that you? You look like a queen! And here I am, dirtying up your carpets and smelling like something a cat dug up . . ."

"No, it's all right," murmured the whisper of a pegasus. "Can I get you something to eat? M-maybe a salve for your hip?"

"That's my cutie mark," said Applebloom.

Fluttershy's voice shrank further. "Oh."

"I'd love something to eat, though, Fluttershy—uh, Lady Fluttershy." said Applebloom, eager to fill the silence. "I'd be much obliged for anything at all."

"Oh, you don't have to call me L-Lady," said Fluttershy. "I keep trying to get people to call me 'Fluttershy,' but they're all too scared of the Prince. N-not that there's anything wrong with the Prince, but—oh, my . . ."

Fluttershy interrupted herself by stepping daintily over to a nearby table and lifting a polished silver bell. She tilted it a fraction of a turn, then gently back, releasing a single, sonorous ring. The tintinnabulation hung in the air, just above the line of audibility, until it was overpowered by the sound of clopping hooves. With bowed heads, two servants cantered in and knelt to the angelic pegasus, whereupon Fluttershy apologized her way through a collection of hushed requests. The two ponies knelt and excused themselves, not raising their heads until sometime after exiting the room.

Applebloom gaped at Fluttershy. Every seam and tassel of her dress competed for the size and beauty of its contribution to her appearance. Her mane, once a long glowing river of pink, had been redirected through braids and clips, while a ponderous collection of bracelets clinked about her legs. Soft tones of makeup utterly failed to conceal her apparently permanent blush and large, downcast eyes. She stood, hunched and weighted, bound not in chains but meticulous gold embroidery.

"Do you like my dress?" she asked. "I don't much care for it, but Prince Blueblood paid an awful lot to commission it. He's really very thoughtful, buying such nice things."

Applebloom stumbled over her own stupefaction. "It's very pretty on you, Fluttershy. But it looks mighty difficult to walk around in. How would you ever get anywhere in all that?"

Fluttershy's visage sunk. "Oh, I don't really go out much, anymore . . . Prince Blueblood really prefers that I visit the courtyard when I want to be outdoors. That way, it's extra special when he takes me to one of his social functions. The courtyard's more than big enough to walk about in, and Angel has a whole garden of vegetables to himself. It's good that Prince Blueblood has the staff take such good care of him, because I don't often get to, and there aren't any other animals in the courtyard . . ." She trailed off, her voice slowly camouflaging into the silence around it.

"But Fluttershy," said Applebloom, when she could bear no more politeness, "You love the outdoors. And animals. And you never used to wear complicated dresses and jewelry."

"Oh, but it would be ungrateful of me to disappoint Prince Blueblood. After all, he's so good to me—" Fluttershy paused a moment to push adjust a fold of her dress, "—and I did model dresses for Photo Finish, remember? That's why the Prince buys me such nice clothing, I think, because it reminds him of when he first saw me at a fashion show."

Before Applebloom could interject, the servants returned bearing silver platters of delicately cut sandwiches and apple slices. They set them daintily upon a gilded table beside the pair, then, excusing themselves with exaggerated bows, left the room. As the exited, Fluttershy managed to squeak out, "Thank you."

Applebloom helped herself to as much as her restraint would allow, before abruptly stopping herself on Fluttershy's behalf. "Fluttershy, won't you have any?"

"Oh, no," said the gilded rose. "I wouldn't want to get crumbs on my dress . . . um, so, what are you doing in Canterlot?"

Applebloom recounted her story, sparing Fluttershy the detailed agony of street life. "So you see, Fluttershy, we're really in a desperate place. Could you possibly spare us Apple ponies enough to get back on our hooves?"

Fluttershy had looked on the verge of tears through most of the story, but her face went white at the request. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she wavered, "I'm really, truly sorry."

"Now hold on," said Applebloom, quizzically. "It ain't your fault we're in hard times—"

"No, it's not that," said Fluttershy. "It's just—I really wish I could help you, b-but I can't! Prince Blueblood takes care of all of our finances personally, and even if I had access to our accounts, he'd never let me give out his personal wealth. It's not that he's not generous; really, he is, but he's very principled, and—" Fluttershy collapsed as she spoke.

"Fluttershy, it's your life!" Applebloom punctuated her outrage by stepping ever closer to the defeated pegasus. "If don't want to stay cooped up in this overdecorated dungeon, go outside! If you don't want to wear dresses bigger than you are, don't! Or at least, have the Prince commission Rarity to make you somethin' with taste." Applebloom stood over Fluttershy now, as threatening as a bony, malnourished mare could hope to be.

"You don't understand," sobbed Fluttershy. "Prince Blueblood has a temper, and it would upset him very much—"

It was at that moment, standing over the submissive wreck, that Applebloom noticed that it was not merely makeup that put color in Fluttershy's cheeks.

"—if I betrayed him, and Rarity isn't—"

A chorus of deep chimes resonated from the hallway, announcing the hour. Fluttershy bolted upright at the sound. "Oh, no! Is it that late already! He'll be home soon, and he's very particular about unexpected guests! You have to go right now!"

She hurried over to ring the bell, a desperately minuscule motion. A butler arrived in moments, and, in between profuse apologies, Fluttershy asked to have Applebloom escorted out. Applebloom was passed from servant to servant to guard until, at last, she found herself ejected onto the street, once more in front of a locked gate and a smug pair of guards. She gazed past them, hoping to spot Fluttershy hovering by one window or another, but all that lay behind her were unsympathetic stone walls and a pair of servants, already busily removing the last traces of her hoofprints.