Dawn greeted her as she awoke, the first rays of sunshine peeking over the horizon.
As usual, the realm of dreams had been kind to her, darkness’ gentle and soothing embrace being a welcome escape to the unrelenting anxiety she had been feeling ever since she arrived here by a cruel twist of Fate, softly promising her that everything would magically fix itself when she woke up.
Yet, when she woke up, she wasn’t home.
Not that she expected any different at this point. There was no home to come back to, she knew as much. Neither in the literal nor in the figurative sense. She was adrift in uncharted waters.
It was a life she barely recognised anymore, as everything she knew and held as true turned upside down, inside out. At best, she felt like a complete stranger, somepony she barely recognised with a life that just didn’t quite make sense.
At worst, she felt like a prisoner, held hostage to the whims of Fate. Stripped of agency, left with the realm of dreams as the only refuge in an hostile world that didn’t care. The ideals that had been the pillars of her way of life no longer rang true, hollow words blown away by the wind.
And perhaps the worst part was keeping it all to herself. Bottling up her distress. Smothering her sorrows with a smile. After all, what else could she do?
Her cries for help would be dismissed with a condescending shake of the head, as always.
Interrupted.
Mocked.
Ignored.
And she was scared, so, so scared of taking matters into her own hooves.
The first days had been a torture, an endless nightmare from which she could never wake up. But as time passed, she’d grown numb to the everpresent pain. Her mind became detached, and her body just went through the motions of keeping up the masquerade with startling ease.
Why, by now she could even deceive herself into believing she actually enjoyed this.
Slowly raising her head from the comfortable pillow on which it laid, she blinked groggily, a deaf pain in between her ears. All things considered, the headache was far less severe than what she was expecting, so she’d consider that a win.
Indeed, she had awoken feeling rather… nice.
Content, even.
A bit dizzy and her head heavy, but as she gazed into the dawn, butterflies dancing in the morning sky, they were only small details in the grand scheme of things.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
For a brief instant, she was at peace.
Until a small snore came from her left, and everything came crashing down.
Slowly turning around, she saw the sleeping stallion right beside her. His right front leg was wrapped around her back, holding her comfortably. His chest had been her pillow.
He was fast asleep, his breath reeking of alcohol.
Eyes wide, she slowly and carefully untangled herself from his warm embrace. Just placing her eyes on his visage was enough to drive a dagger through her heart.
Most of the time, she was able to hide the pain underneath the facade she had been forced to adopt, a mask she put in place every morning after she woke up in the loneliness of her bedroom.
That was a luxury she wasn’t given this morning. She had nowhere to run. No time to prepare. No mirror to stare blankly at as she built up the will to plaster a smile on her face and go on with the tide.
It was not regret what she felt upon looking at his peaceful, sleeping face. It was the deep sorrow of loss. A reminder of how close yet far away she was from home.
In most ways, he was the same pony she had always known. Good. Brave. Loyal. Unflappable. Ever confident, to the point of arrogance.
Yet, there was something entirely different about him. She knew it was inevitable, but the similarities were so strong that they only made the differences so much more jarring and hurtful. Harsh words so uncharacteristic left her stunned.
He just wasn’t the same person, and he could never be, regardless of how close he came, through no fault of his own.
As she scooted a small distance away to recompose, she bucked herself internally. Such weakness was unacceptable. She needed to keep her distance, as she had been doing somewhat successfully for the last month and a half or so.
If she continued being so careless, she would crumble under the pressure. After all, she already felt the urge to return into his embrace. And nothing but pain and agony would come out of it, because what she wished for was a dream that could not be, a future snatched away for reasons unknown to her.
What had she ever done to deserve such a fate?
She took heavy breaths, getting her story straight.
In.
Nothing happened between them.
Out.
They only enjoyed a companionable sleep next to each other.
In.
They never hugged.
Out.
They never cuddled, instinctively seeking each other’s warmth.
In.
She was he.
Out.
Barely a second later, the stallion stirred, waking up.
“Elusive! Great news!” Butterscotch exclaimed, flying his way towards the white unicorn, deep into the maze of tents that was now Ponyville.
Elusive raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Oh?”
“It’s Opal! She’s fine!" he said as he landed next to Elusive. Butterscotch took a small moment of respite before continuing. "I found her scavenging through my trash for something to eat. She’s a bit hungry, but none the worse to wear.”
“Oh, good!” Elusive exclaimed in relief. “I was terribly worried about her. Is she at your house right now?”
“Yes. Should I bring her over?”
The unicorn shook his head. “Oh, no. Opal dearest can be a bit… uhm… difficult.”
No need to tell him twice. Angel despised the cat’s guts, and the cat seemed to relish on the bunny’s fear and hate. That situation could only spell trouble.
In fact, it sort of was the reason why Butterscotch had flew as fast as possible to tell Elusive about his cat’s survival: he wanted her out of his home as soon as possible. She was most definitely not good with other animals, and only through The Stare was he capable of keeping her compliant... that is, for a couple of minutes before she relapsed into her nefarious ways.
“Oh,” the pegasus frowned, seeing his scheme foiled. “Are you sure?”
“Positive, my dear. Living in tents is stressful as it is. Having to deal with Opal on top of that would be a bit too much. Besides, surely you can keep her safe and sound in the meantime, right?”
“Uhm, yes. Yes I can,” Butterscotch nodded. Although I'd really rather not… “Is there anything else I could do for you?” he offered.
Elusive shook his head. “No, there’s no need to concern yourself. I may be homeless, but I’m no beggar.”
“But…”
“Besides, Captain Armor has been most attentive to our needs. Although he could really use a nap, the poor soul.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, of course. The poor stallion has been working nonstop since his arrival.”
Butterscotch frowned. “Uhm, no. I meant, are you sure you don’t need anything? You could stay at my house until they repair the Boutique.”
“And sleep where? On the couch? That’s where Stormageddon sleeps. Yes, I know, I know,” Elusive added hastily before Butterscotch could protest, “he’s a very good boy, and remarkably well behaved. But that doesn’t change the fact that the couch is still occupied by a literal enormous eldritch abomination from another dimension, and I’d rather not sleep with him.”
“But he’s harmless!”
“Butterscotch, his mere existence haunts my nightmares.”
“You just need to get to know him…” Butterscotch mumbled, but decided against pressing the matter—normal ponies just wouldn’t get Stormy. He was a big soft fluffy boi on the inside, and that was all what mattered.
“Besides, I do have a roof over my head,” Elusive noted, pointing towards the drab green army tent behind him.
Butterscotch stared for a few seconds. “It’s…” He paused, thinking of the right word to say. “... nice.”
“‘Nice’? Butterscotch, you’re a dear, but please don’t insult my intelligence. Believe me, if I could, I’d have some serious words with whatever blind moron designed these tents,” Elusive huffed, staring in utter disdain at the dark green fabric. “They’re an affront against fashion! Against culture! Against civilisation itself! They make me want to gouge my eyes out with a spoon!” Butterscotch tilted his head. “At least they could emblazon the Princess’ cutie mark on it, for goodness sake!”
“... I guess?” The pegasus frowned. “But they’re just army tents, though. They’re not meant to be flashy.”
“Utilitarianism isn’t an excuse for mediocrity,” the white unicorn sentenced. “But seriously, do you know what really grinds my gears about this?” Butterscotch said nothing. He knew Elusive enough to know that once he started ranting, intervening would be pointless. “The other armies of Equestria use larger pavilions, always emblazoning the heraldry of their respective kingdom or overlord to the fabric! The Crown Army is the only armed force in the Empire that uses these… these abominations!”
“How do you know that?” Butterscotch asked curiously. He had never seen an army camp.
“Magazines, Butterscotch dearest.”
“There’s magazines about army tents?”
Elusive raised an eyebrow. “There’s magazines of just about everything in the face of the earth.”
“Right,” silly question. “But why are you reading them?”
“Oh, that’s an easy one. You see, if you want to be a successful fashion designer, you must create designs that appeal to the public, that resonates with their values, with their interests, with their own way of life! And believe me, nothing appeals to stallions quite as much as army uniforms and accessories. It would be rather irresponsible from my part to neglect a prospective market like that.” Elusive paused for a few seconds. “Also, the magazine is about military fashion, not just tents, so there’s that, too.”
With a shrug, Butterscotch conceded Elusive’s point. He had a couple books on historical battles and uniforms, the one birthday gift Zephyr Breeze had ever bothered to get him, and Butterscotch had to agree: army outfits were pretty cool.
“This, however, beggars belief,” Elusive continued, gesturing towards the tent behind him, “Why, if it were up to me, I’d burn this ghastly excuse of a shelter to the ground... but then the fire would probably spread to the next tent, and then to the next, and then I would have lost any moral authority over Sweetie Belle.”
Four full seconds of silence.
“... And you’d go to prison for arson,” the butter pegasus pointed out.
“Yes, there’s that too, isn’t it?” Elusive conceded with a small chuckle. “And I’d leave poor Sweetie Belle homeless for the second time in three days, so I guess I’ll just have to suck it up…” The stallion paused, rubbing his chin in thought. “Although she could stay at Sweet Apple Acres...”
“With Apple Bloom and Scootaloo.” Butterscotch needn’t say anything else.
“Touché.” Elusive sighed dramatically. “There’s just no way to win.” Both stallions chuckled lightly. “Say, have you gone see Applejack and Twilight today?”
“Oh. Yes. They’re…” Butterscotch pursed his lips. “Okay, I guess.”
“She hasn’t left Applejack’s bedside in over a whole day. She must be worried sick.”
“Twilight looks like she’s doing fine.”
“Looking like something and being something are two completely different things.”
That much was true. Indeed, Butterscotch had noticed how, whenever there were visits, Twilight cheerfully engaged with them like nothing was wrong, but her eyes always took on a sad glaze when she thought no pony was paying attention to her. He had also taken note of the small pile of books lying by her chair’s legs.
“Applejack should have awoken by now,” the pegasus said softly. “For him to still be unconscious… It isn’t normal.”
“It’s nothing to worry about, really. I asked the doctor earlier today, and he told me they’re deliberately keeping him sedated. They will wake him up when they deem it appropriate.”
“Oh.” That made sense. I guess.
“It’s for his own good, you see. His body is not in any condition to go beyond his own bed, and, well, you know just how self-destructively stubborn our boy can be.” Indeed, Butterscotch agreed. If he wasn’t, this would never have happened. “He needs to rest, and keeping him asleep is the best way to get him to do so. Besides, I think they want to move him into Ponyville General before they wake him up.”
He tilted his head in confusion. “Move him into the hospital? But why? If he’s okay…”
“I think it has to do with the facilities. There’s only so much you can get done in an army tent with a stallion who broke his legs.” There was a beat. “And ribs. And shoulder. And—”
“I get it.” Butterscotch sighed tiredly. “This is awful.”
“Yes, it is.”
“We should have stopped Applejack,” he muttered.
“We could have tried,” Elusive conceded. “And we would have most likely lost.”
“But we could have bought time… We could have delayed him enough…”
“Butterscotch, listen to me.” The white unicorn placed a hoof on the pegasus’ shoulder and squeezed. “Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t torture yourself with ‘what ifs’. It’s pointless,” Elusive let out a heavy sigh. If he still had his moustache, it would be quivering. “He is who he is. We can’t stop him from making mistakes. But we can help him overcome them and come out victorious. It’s the least we can do for our friend.”
Butterscotch pursed his lips in thought, then nodded.
“You’re right.”
“My dear, I know I’m right,” Elusive smirked smugly. “Say, would you want to join me for lunch? I know the soup-kitchens aren’t Clover Café, but…” Clover Café is in ruins, yep.
“That’d be great, Elusive.”
Mere moments later, both stallions were staring with undisguised disgust at the revolting, pestilent greenish paste that was being served at the soup-kitchen.
The cook was wearing an ominous looking canvas hood that covered their entire face, with round glass eyepieces and a tin can under the chin.
There was no queue.
Butterscotch blinked.
The twisted, corroded remains of a skull floated up to the paste’s surface. What poor Celestia-forsaken creature it had once belonged to, Butterscotch couldn’t tell.
The stallions shared a terrified glance.
“Your place?”
The pegasus nodded, and without missing a beat, they turned tail and left.
Apple Bloom knew just how fortunate she was to lay on her own mattress.
Sweet Apple Acres, along with the other farms, had been among the few survivors of the Ursa’s rampage through Ponyville, being so out of the way harm never came close to it.
Meanwhile, everypony was sleeping in army cots, living in tents. From the richest of the rich to the poorest of the poor, they were all in the same sinking ship now.
What good did all their money do for the Rich family when the Ursa destroyed their house, and they were forced to go without a roof like anypony else?
So much for being 'special'.
Usually, the thought of Diamond Tiara being miserable while Apple Bloom herself was perfectly fine would be enough to lull the farmfilly deep into happy, amenable dreams.
Yet, for the second consecutive night, she found herself unable to sleep.
She rolled and tossed and turned, spilling her covers on the floor, staring blankly at the roof of her bedroom. Her body was tired and exhausted, but sleep never came to meet her.
Because she was most definitely not perfectly fine.
Her hometown had been razed to the ground to an extent which she could have never imagined. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were living in tents, homeless and miserable, and there was nothing she could do to help them, to ease their suffering, as even an army tent was preferable to their shoddy, unrepaired barn, filled to the brim with scraps and garbage and rusty equipment and Celestia knew what else.
And then there was Applejack.
At nine years of life, Apple Bloom knew death and loss far more intimately than most ponies her age.
Her parents had passed away long before their time, almost three years ago. Despite Granny Smith and her elder brothers’ best efforts to step up and take care of the little filly’s upbringing, they had left behind a hole that could never be filled. An open wound that refused to scar, that still oozed fresh blood at the slightest nudge.
And now it felt like somepony was reaching into it, tearing it apart further with their bare hooves.
“Mr. Applejack is going to be fine,” a nondescript medic had told them with a cold, dispassionate voice. “We’re taking every precaution so his recovery can be as speedy as possible.”
It did nothing to assuage her nerves and fears. She had no reason to trust the robed stranger and his detached manner, with eyes that never met their own.
After all, they had told them the same thing back then, too. That her parents would be alright, that their sickness would take a turn for the better and soon enough they’d be home with her.
Yet that had turned out to be a lie. They never recovered, and were now dead and buried, deep in the orchard, alongside the paternal grandfather she had never met.
Of her mother’s family, she knew nothing. They might as well be all dead, too.
If Applejack was as fine as the medics kept repeating, then why hadn’t he woken up already? It just didn’t make any sense to her. They didn’t try explaining it, either. The medics just walked from here to there, barely giving them a minute of their time before turning tail and leaving from where they came from.
Were they actually taking care of Applejack at all? Were they even trying? Or had they just let him to die, deeming him a waste of time and effort, a necessary sacrifice for the greater good? After all, what was the good of one pony, when compared to the good of an entire town?
It was beyond stupid.
Buildings could be rebuilt anytime. But losing a brother… Those were wounds that not even time would ever heal.
Each day would feel like a dagger to her heart when Applejack’s room remained empty. When only three ponies sat at the table for dinner. The old hat hanging on the rack with nopony to wear it, a permanent reminder of what they had lost.
She didn’t want to lose him. She didn’t want him to join their parents in their resting place.
She wanted, no, needed him by her side. To cheer her every step along the way. To give her sage advice whenever she required it, to lift her up when she was feeling down. To be proud of her when she finally earned her cutie mark. Heck, even to lord her over with no other argument than ‘Ah’m yer big brother’.
She couldn’t care any less about Ponyville and about the Royal Guard’s priorities.
She needed her big brother.
He was all that mattered.
Apple Bloom sighed miserably, sinking her face into her pillow.
Yep. Just as she suspected, she wasn’t sleeping tonight, either.
She sat up in her bed, holding her head in her forehooves, a deep frown on her face. She didn’t want to dwell on Applejack. She didn’t want to think about her parents. About the maternal family she never met.
Staying in bed wouldn’t do.
Softly, careful to not make any noise, Apple Bloom sneaked out of her bedroom. She shot a glance further down the corridor. Heavy snoring came out from Granny Smith’s room, while a small, dim light came from Big Mac’s. Her eldest brother, as worried into insomnia as herself, was probably reading or drawing or something to keep his head occupied.
With tiny foal steps, Apple Bloom came down the stairs, opened the door, and stepped into the night.
A small chill creeped up on her as she closed the door behind her, but she paid no mind, her gaze attracted to the sky above.
Thousands upon millions of stars lit up the beautiful night sky. The moon shone bright, allowing the filly to see in the dark.
An’ to think this coulda’ lasted forever if Applejack hadn’t stopped the Night King, Apple Bloom thought. It wouldn’t be so bad. It’s beautiful.
Except for the whole ‘slavery’ part. That would probably suck. Even that was a bit too much for her own ambitions of world-domination. After all, what she had in mind was to protect ponykind and usher a new age of prosperity, like it whispered to her that she could. She wouldn’t build it on the back of slaves. She was better than that.
Trying to keep her mind clear, Apple Bloom just roamed aimlessly into the orchard, her eyes and thoughts fixated on the twinkling stars. She passed countless apple trees, the sounds of nature all around her.
Ah should do this more often, the filly mused. The darkness of night, the shining of faraway stars, the light of the moon bathing the orchard… It was perfect. Despite being alone, she didn’t feel like it.
Something on the corner of her eye caught her attention.
Built on top of a thick tree trunk was a small wooden house. It had certainly seen better days. The windows were cracked and broken, door barely holding on the hinge. The peach paint was peeling off the wooden tables, and in all honesty, Apple Bloom felt that if she blew on it, the house would collapse in on itself, then explode for good measure.
She could barely remember it existed, so out of the way and secluded the clubhouse was. Apple Bloom did recall Applejack and Carrot Top going deep into the orchard from time to time. Now it made sense that her father always told them to be careful when they did so; the clubhouse was a deathtrap!
Now, what did ‘Ah don’t want no grandkids’ got to do with anything, she hadn’t the faintest. But it’s not like it mattered. Applejack and Carrot Top were a thing of the past, just like her father.
The clubhouse, however…
Perhaps it could still have a future.
After all, every supervillain worth their apples has a secret lair, right? It just needed some TLC.
Thousands of ideas came to Apple Bloom’s head, and with her mind set, she ran towards the barn.
After all, if she wasn’t going to sleep that night, she might as well do something productive, right?
According to schedule, the military council reconvened early in the morning.
It was certainly a more relaxed affair than the previous councils. Each of the officers was leisurely eating breakfast and, for the first time since their arrival, well rested.
The breakneck pace at which they had worked for the last two days and nights was no longer necessary, as the Ursa had been relocated far away, and crucial infrastructure such as the train station and the sewers brought back into service.
Their most urgent tasks now settled, the situation stabilised and reconstruction was now starting to move on a steady pace. If maintained, they would achieve their goal of getting the town up and running within two weeks. After all, it was barely Wednesday, and they were already done with the basic infrastructure.
They could finally give themselves the luxury of sleeping through the night.
And as Shining Armor placed his own cup of coffee on the desk and looked at the three other officers, he couldn’t overstate just how much they all needed it.
For starters, Morning Star wasn’t keeling over the desk with a head-splitting migraine, or barely kept together by Ippokrátis mixture of painkillers and stamina shots. A well deserved day and night of rest had done miracles for the First Lieutenant, who was contently drinking a cup of tea, and stealing Ippokrátis’ biscuits when the Surgeon-Major was distracted going through his notes.
Eóburgh raised an eyebrow towards Morning Star, who smiled sheepishly as she munched on her stolen cookies. Ippokrátis glanced upwards from his notepad, only to frown as he noticed his plate lacking several biscuits.
Discipline Schmiscipline, Shining snorted internally. While he placed great value on the chain of command, he thought that formality was overrated. The Royal Guard were a band of brothers and sisters in arms. Slavish obedience and adherence to protocol would do them far more harm than good. He'd rather be trusted by his subordinates than blindly obeyed just because he outranked them. And being at ease was one of the best ways of developing said trust.
But still, they had a job to do. Perhaps on their return to Canterlot they could go down to Joe’s and grab some donuts. Now, though...
“Anything to report?” Shining Armor asked openly, leaning back on his chair.
As he expected, Ippokrátis took the word. “Yes, Captain. I'm pleased to inform you that a small but instrumental portion of Ponyville General’s installations are ready to resume operations. We've already started moving the bedridden patients" – ‘patient’, really; the plural was redundant – "into the reconstructed rooms, as well as restoring the former staff to their previous functions.”
“How’s their morale?” Shining inquired.
“Mixed, but mostly positive.”
“‘Mixed’?” Morning Star intervened with a quizzical twist. “I thought they’d be eager to get back to work.”
“Some certainly are,” Ippokrátis conceded good-naturedly. “But you must understand, they’re all in the same boat as the rest of Ponyville. Some ponies deal with it better than others. Nurse Redheart jumped at the call and is already taking charge of the situation, but the receptionist, I believe, is currently having an emotional breakdown in her tent.”
“That sucks,” the mage quipped, munching down on another of Ippokrátis’ biscuits. When the elderly stallion scowled at her, she only grinned toothily at him.
Rolling his eyes in amusement, Shining turned his glance towards Eóburgh.
“How are things on your front, Lieutenant General?”
“Smooth. With supply lines with Canterlot reestablished, we’ve been able to import materials and resources from the Free Cities to help with your, er, ‘pet project’.” Eóburgh then frowned. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“Always, Lieutenant.”
“Why?” The Trottish mare tilted her head. “It feels… hmmm... unnecessary? Redundant? Your ideas are something straight out of the big cities, but I don’t see what use they could have here. Ponyville has no need for military fortifications, an expansion of the bureaucratic facilities or a complex sewer system. It’s just a small hamlet.”
Shining Armor nodded. “You’re right on all accounts.” He allowed himself to wait for Eóburgh’s perplexed blink before continuing. “Ponyville is just a small hamlet. But it’s also an extremely well placed one: it has access to vast natural riches, and its position as Canterlot’s gateway from the south and the east makes it a potential centre of trade. And so it has been since the town was first established, but previous mayors lacked the ambition to take advantage of it.”
“I think I see where you’re going,” Morning Star nodded in thought. “Well exploited and administered, Ponyville could become the third richest city in all of Equestria Proper within mere decades.”
Shining Armor grinned. “Exactly. Ponyville has already seen a steady influx of trade from the south and the east, and a few freelancers are profiting from Ponyville’s unique resources, like the Zap Apples. The winds of change are already blowing in this direction. It’s inevitable. What’s not inevitable, however, is Ponyville becoming a haven of poverty, inequality and squalor like Lenden or Poulis... or worse.”
Brought forth by the advances in technology, industry and commerce, inequality was slowly but surely growing all across Equestria, like an insidious cancer that threatened to choke its development and prosperity. Lenden and the Rheur were the two examples by excellence, but even they paled in comparison to what was going up in Russaria.
The situation of poverty in St. Pyotrysburg and Moskon’ was so dire that they were facing a veritable exodus of desolate and hungry ponies from the cities into the harsh and unforgiving Russarian wilderness to set up their own towns, promoting egalitarian ideas that only further destabilised the kingdom’s fragile social pact.
It didn’t help matters that most of these new towns were rather… radical in their ideological approach.
Shining crossed his hooves, and declared: “I don’t want that. In fact, I believe this is our chance to set things straight before they ever have the chance of getting twisted. That’s my ‘pet project’, Lieutenant General: I want to set the stage for a sustainable growth that benefits everypony in town.”
"That's all well and great, Captain," Morning Star snorted. “but I bet my cutie mark that sleazy merchant is going to find a way to hijack your project for his own profit.”
“Eínai skétos malákas,” Ippokrátis muttered.
“I swear, if he tries to buy a seat at this table once more, I…” the unicorn shook her head in disbelief. “I cannot be held accountable for what I’ll do to him.”
“I do wonder...” Eóburgh mused, rubbing her chin in thought. “Can we accuse him of obstructing the Royal Guard’s duties and throw him in the dungeons until we’re done here? Is that, like, a thing?”
I could make it a thing, Shining Armor internally agreed with both mares.
In all honesty, Filthy Rich himself was a rather agreeable fellow, but his constant maneuvers and underhoofed attempts to take control of the power vacuum left behind by Mayor Mare’s resignation were starting to veer into legally questionable territory… and annoy every single one of the ponies that were currently in charge of law and order.
Which was a rather unfortunate thing for Filthy Rich.
“I’ll issue him a cease-and-desist warning,” Shining Armor eventually decided. “If he still decides to continue on his folly, it’s on his head.”
“So it is a thing,” Eóburgh smirked at him.
“An obscure, mostly-forgotten legal leftover from previous centuries, but yes.”
“Awesome,” Morning Star hoof pumped.
“Don’t get too excited,” Shining warned the mage. “It’s only if he ignores my warning.”
“Dreaming is free, Captain,” she muttered.
“And in case that little bourgeois wasn’t bad enough, his brat is a bloody nightmare,” Eóburgh shivered. “Makes me glad I never had children.”
“There’s still time,” Morning Star pointed out.
The Chief Royal Engineer snorted. “Aye, and you really think I want children after meeting that sorry excuse of a filly?”
“Touché.”
Donut Joe’s it is, Shining Armor decided, as the mares’ conversation devolved into mocking impressions of Diamond Tiara’s outlandish and ridiculous demands. Perhaps they did need some quality time to loosen up and relax.
For now, though, they had a town to rebuild.
Ugh…
Mah head...
Slowly, Applejack started opening his eyes, stinging and dry. Everything burned a deaf pain.
Everything around himself was white, the light burning his eyes and making him recoil. A purple pony was to his right, but whether sitting or standing, he couldn’t tell.
Their figure was too blurry to make out exactly who it was… But Applejack knew no other purple pony.
“Missy…?” Applejack groaned weakly. “Is that you?”
Whatever answer he expected, it most definitely was not a mighty slap across his face, followed by the purple blob hugging him fiercely.
“What the—!” he gasped, suddenly awake.
“Don’t you EVER do that again,” Twilight muttered, her mouth next to his ear. “Do you listen to me? If I tell you to do something, you damn well do what I tell you to do. Are we clear?”
“Ah’m…” Extremely confused?! What the hay is goin’ on?!
“Are. We. Clear?” Twilight’s voice was sharp as a knife. And pointed right at his yugular.
“Ye-yes, ma’am!” Applejack squeaked, unmanned in fear.
“Good.” She didn’t let go of him, though.
Applejack took the opportunity to look around, blinking furiously to stave off the stinging dryness of his eyes. White walls. White roof. Twilight sat upon piles of books.
“Where am Ah?”
“Ponyville General,” Twilight replied, finally letting go of him. He immediately missed her touch.
“It survived the Ursa attack?”
“Nothing did. It’s already rebuilt. Most of it, anyways.”
Applejack rubbed his head, processing Twilight’s words. For the hospital to be rebuilt already... “How long Ah’ve been out of it?”
“Five days, thirteen hours and seventeen minutes with forty three seconds.”
Applejack blinked, utterly caught off guard. “What?!” How could he be unconscious for so long?! He had lost the whole week! And most importantly, how the hay did Twilight know down to the exact second just how much time had passed? “Bu-but how?!”
“Induced coma. The Surgeon-Major thought it was the best way to speed up your recovery.”
Twilight wouldn’t admit it, but it had been her suggestion in the first place. A dreadful sense of guilt had gnawed at her for days, but she knew it to be necessary: Applejack was far too stubborn for his own good, and she would not take any chances with his health.
“What? But Ah’m not—” Applejack scowled, his mind set. “Actually, Y’know what, no, screw that.” Removing the covers of his bed with clumsy kicks, he leaned to his left, trying to stand up from his bed, only to realise both of his hind legs were splinted. "The hay with these damn splints?" He groaned in frustration, clumsily trying to undo the bandages.
“Applejack, stop!” Twilight exclaimed, immediately stopping him with her magic.
“Missy, let me go!” he grunted as he struggled with the purple aura keeping him in place. “Ah’m fine!”
“You’re not! You’re really not!” Twilight cried.
“Ah know mah own limits, missy, and Ah'm tellin' ya that Ah'm fine!" The orange stallion insisted stubbornly.
"You almost died, Applejack!"
"It was just a scratch! Now lemme’ go!"
"It was far worse than a scratch!"
"Oh, are ya a doctor now?"
"Applejack, I swear to Celestia, if you don't stop and lie down this instant I will shove your hat right up your—!"
The door suddenly opened. Both ponies froze on the spot, eyes wide.
"What is going on in he—? Oh," a sky blue unicorn medic stopped as soon as she caught sight of the scene unfolding inside the room. She blinked. "Miss Sparkle, if you would be so kind…?"
Twilight immediately shut her magic off. Applejack dropped like a ragdoll, wincing in pain when his limp limbs made impact with his mattress.
A small glance was shared between stallion and mare.
Why did you do that? That hurt like hell! Applejack scowled.
Of course it was going to hurt, you idiot! Twilight rolled her eyes. That's what I've been trying to tell you!
You made it hurt more on purpose, though! The green eyes increpated her.
Pray tell, how? She raised an skeptical eyebrow.
The hell do Ah know! Ah bet ya used yar fancy shmancy magic!
Magic doesn't work that way!
Neither do mattresses! They're supposed to be soft and comfy and embrace ya when ya throw yerself on 'em, not hurt like a buck to yer face!
What part of 'you're not fine' are you physically unable to comprehend?!
It was a very eloquent glance.
"Uhm…" the medic hesitated. "Am I… interrupting something?"
"No, miss," Twilight venomously declared, without backing down from the burning stare-off she was having with Applejack. Voice oozing acid, she added: "Why, you're just in time! Mr. Applejack here insists he's just fine."
"But he's not," the medic instantly blurted out, taken aback by the whole situation she had just waddled into.
"Yeah, well, try telling him that," she grumbled, crossing her hooves.
"You're not," the medic promptly turned to Applejack. "Fine, I mean.”
“But…” the orange stallion blurted. “It’s not that bad, Ah swear!”
“Applejack, let me be frank with you. That is for us to decide. Yes, you're on the mend, but I have to categorically stress that you are not fine. Your muscles are in an extremely fragile state right now. If you do any sort of physical exertion, you run the risk of tearing them apart, and worsen your condition."
The stallion’s eyes widened in horror. “Wait, wait wait wait! No exercise?!”
The medic nodded grimly. “At all.”
“Bu-bu-but it’s almost harvestin’ season!!” Applejack spluttered. “We need the money! We can’t afford bein’ down one pony! Ah need to be able to do mah job!”
Twilight’s anger vanished instantly, replaced by apprehension. Oh, she flinched, recalling how Applejack had told her the farm was on a rough spot when it came to money. Sweet Apple Acres’ financial woes had gotten to the point that their farmhoof’s death a while back had actually been a good thing, as they couldn’t keep affording his pay. Having Applejack, quite literally half their workforce, out of commission as harvesting season approached was the last thing Sweet Apple Acres needed. This isn’t good...
“I’m sorry sir, but you cannot exert yourself and that’s final. If you’re short on funds, you can always apply for a loan at the Royal Bank.”
It was true that Twilight wasn’t an expert on these matters… But even she knew that was a terrible idea. The Royal Bank knew no boundaries and had no qualms when the time came to collect what you owed to them. If you were unable to pay back, everything you owned was as good as forfeit. And with their sky-high interest rates, one would suspect that was their intention.
Applejack shook his head vehemently. “No, no no, Ah can’t do that! Please, can’t ya use yer magic to speed things up?” the stallion pleaded, throwing all dignity through the window.
“We’ve already done all that we can. Now you just have to let time take its due course.”
“Please, please, please! Ah’m beggin’ ya!”
“Applejack,” the medic’s eyes hardened. “No.”
Applejack didn’t listen to her. Instead, he jumped out of the bed so swiftly that Twilight was unable to intervene.
As soon as Applejack’s weakened and splinted back legs touched the ground, they buckled under his weight, unable to support him. With a cry of pain, the stallion fell forward, crumbling on the floor obstreperously.
“Gah!” Applejack groaned, finding himself out of breath from the force of the impact. In a flash, Twilight was by his side, helping him back to his bed. He didn’t offer resistance, refusing to meet her eyes.
“You can barely stand, sir,” the medic stated, with no sympathy in her voice. Only the coldness of professionalism. “Magic will only get you so far with injuries as serious as yours. You must remain in bed.”
“But…” Applejack began.
“But nothing,” she snapped, clearly done with Applejack’s stubbornness. “If you refuse to heed our advice, we’ll be forced to sedate you again until your body recovers. It’s your call, sir.”
Applejack didn’t answer. He didn’t meet the doctor’s eyes. He only stared blankly at his splinted legs.
The medic pursed her lips. “Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said, then turned around and left, closing the door behind her.
After a moment of silence, Applejack muttered, “Ah feel like such an idiot…”
Well, you should, Twilight internally agreed. “It wasn’t your brightest moment, no,” she said politely, unable to keep the edge out of her voice. “But why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you come back?” Twilight asked, fighting to keep control over her temper.
Oh, she was over the moon about the fact that he was alive and on the road to a full (if not immediate) recovery. That didn’t mean she wasn’t still extremely angry with him for being such a monumental moron she didn’t even know where to start.
“Ah don’t know. Ah wasn’t thinkin’ straight, Ah guess. Gettin’ yer home threatened by an Ursa can do that to ponies,” Applejack scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly, averting her gaze. “Ah just… Ah don’t know… Ah felt so powerless, just waitin’ and doin’ nothin’. Ah didn’t know what was goin’ on. Ah didn’t know if ya guys were… Well…”
There was a moment of silence in which neither said anything. A tense, uncomfortable silence that just seemed to stretch endlessly.
“In the end, Ah just… Had to do somethin’,” the stallion said lamely after what seemed like years.
Twilight shook her head softly. “You almost got yourself killed, Applejack.”
Applejack winced. “Ah know. Ah was bein’ an idiot. Ah’m sorry.”
“‘Sorry’ doesn’t cut it,” Twilight retorted. “What if you died?”
“But Ah didn’t.”
“But what if?” she insisted. “Don’t you see? You got lucky! The Ursa wasn’t actively trying to kill you! Otherwise, it would have stomped you or slashed at you or worse! And that would have been it, Applejack! There would have been nothing we could have done! Not even the best medics in Canterlot could have helped you then. You’d be dead!”
“Ah don’t care about me,” Applejack said simply. “Ah really don’t.”
“But we do.” Twilight felt a knot tightening in her throat, but she pushed on. “What about those you would leave behind? How do you think Big Mac and Apple Bloom would feel if you had died? Granny Smith, losing her own grandson? How do you think we’d take it, huh? Phil? Butterscotch? Elusive? Blitz? Me?” Twilight breathed out. “You’re my best friend, Applejack. I don’t want to lose you.”
Her words struck Applejack like a slap to the face. He looked down to his hooves pensively.
“Thing is...” he eventually sighed. “Ah’ve… Ah’ve already lost too many people. An’ heaven knows it doesn’t get any easier when ya have to live on with the loss and the pain. It rots ya. Feelin’... Knowin’ ya could have done somethin’. That ya could’ve made a difference.” He sniffed. “Ah don’t want to lose anypony else…” he croaked, with the weakest voice she had ever heard from him. “Ah don’t want to lose you… Ah— Ah can’t. Ah just can’t.” He closed his eyes in pain. “Ah know ya told me to stay out of it. Ah know why. Ah knew it was a terrible idea, an’ that Ah could’ve died.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because even then, Ah’d rather take mah chances with death than stand idle when those Ah love are in danger.”
Love.
“Is… Is that what I am to you?” Twilight’s mouth was dry. “Somepony you love?”
Applejack flinched, looking at her with wide eyes. “Wha— No, that’s not what Ah meant,” he hurriedly scattered to explain. “Ah meant like, mah family, mah friends…” Interrupting himself, Applejack sighed deeply, shaking his head. “No. No, that was not it. You’re right. Ah can’t… Ah can’t lie to ya. Ah don’t want to lie to ya.”
He took a deep breath. “Ah… Ah don’t know if ‘love’ is the right word. Maybe it is.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Oh, what Ah’m Ah sayin’. Of course it is. How couldn’t it be? You’re amazin’. You’re kind. You’re a genius. You’re beautiful. You’re the best pony Ah’ve ever had the fortune of meetin’. Ah know Ah shouldn’t say so, but Ah’m glad the Night King tried to take over the world, because otherwise Ah’d never have met ya.” He paused for a moment. “How? How Ah’m Ah supposed to not fall in love with ya?”
Twilight flinched slightly. Applejack noticed, and shook his head softly. “And… And Ah’m under no impressions of the opposite bein’ true. After all, what do Ah have to offer to ya? Nothin’. Ah can’t do nothin’ right. Mah farm is on the rocks. And Ah’m just a stupid, hard-headed fool who almost got himself killed fer a love that’s not reciprocated.”
Twilight didn’t answer for a moment. She was too busy trying to make sense of the maelstrom within her head and her heart.
She knew she shouldn’t be surprised by his confession, and yet she was.
Weeks ago, when she had received the two tickets by accident, and teased Applejack into thinking it was a date, he had eagerly jumped on the offer. How could she been so blind? How hadn’t she realised right then and there the feelings that he nurtured in his heart?
Just how oblivious could she be? His stubborn protectiveness, that had led him to face off against a dragon on her place, or to always be the first one to jump to the call when she was in need of aid.
After all, what do Ah have to offer to ya? Nothin’. Ah can’t do nothin’ right.
Heck, even his condescension made sense now. He ached for her admiration, yet he felt himself unworthy of it. He wished for nothing else but to impress her, yet all he could manage was get his flank handed out to him.
Twilight was deeply touched by Applejack’s words, that much was undeniable. But… But she didn’t feel like she could prove him wrong.
She didn’t even know what her feelings about him were. Was it love? Was it just friendship? Where did one end and the other began?
Twilight knew many things. She knew about magic and astronomy, chemistry and mathematics, history and sociology. She had read countless books, easily understanding and learning what they had to offer.
But she knew nothing about love.
“There’s nothing to learn about love itself,” Cadence had told her once, after they had read a romantic tale before bedtime.
“Then how do you know when you’re in love?” filly Twilight had frowned, snuggling under her covers.
The pink pegasus had chuckled. “You just do. It’s a wonderful feeling, but I can’t explain it to you.”
“Why not?” she pouted.
“It’s something you have to experience for yourself, Twily,” Cadence said with a smile. “When the moment comes, you’ll know. Trust me.”
This wasn’t it.
Applejack, she held dearest to her heart.
But she didn’t love him.
Not in the way he loved her.
Her mind set, she leaned over towards him, and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.
“Applejack…” Twilight began. “Do you know you’re my very first friend?” The stallion shook his head slowly. “It’s true. I’ve never had friends. Not… Not real ones, for that matter. Just ponies I more or less got along with, but nothing else. I… I didn’t know anything about friendship. And I still have so much to learn about it. But you,” she placed her hoof squarely in his chest, “have already taught me what friendship could be. And it’s the most wonderful thing in the world.”
Twilight pursed her lips, before smiling weakly. “Maybe… Maybe one day you could teach me what love could be, too. Just… Not now. I’m not… I’m not ready for that sort of thing. Maybe one day. Who knows?” she chuckled softly. “The future isn’t set on stone.”
Applejack nodded gingerly. “Right,” he croaked, his voice thick. “Ah get it. It’s yer choice, after all. Ah’ll respect it, even if...” he trailed off, but Twilight knew very well what was left unsaid: ‘even if it breaks mah heart’.
“I know. Thank you, Applejack,” she hugged him tightly. After a moment, he gingerly hugged back. “For always being there for me… even when I tell you otherwise.”
Applejack winced. “You’re not… angry about that, right?”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Twilight broke off the hug. “If you do something like that ever again, I’m absolutely going to kill you.”
“Ah’m just tryin’ to...”
“I know, and I appreciate it. Really, I do,” she smiled at him. “But you have to trust me on these sort of things. I’m Princess Celestia’s personal protégé. I think it’s fair to say I can take care of myself.”
“Ah’ll still be there fer ya if ya need me. Ya know Ah will.”
“I’m not telling you to go away.” I don’t want you to. “I’m just asking you to trust I know what I’m doing when I ask you to stand back. Can you do that, Applejack?”
He nodded firmly despite himself, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Of course, Missy.”
“‘Twilight’. You don’t have to call me ‘Missy’. Just ‘Twilight’,” she smiled softly.
“Alright,” Applejack smiled back. “Twilight.”