Nopony dared move. They were stuck, frozen in time, a still frame in a dead city. Without the sun to mark the passage of time, Applejack begin to wonder if this would last forever, and how she would know if it had.
“Let's just make sure we're all understanding each other,” said Trixie, desperately trying to come up with a plan. “If any of you make a move, Applejack loses her head. And I expect that if that happens, I will lose mine shortly afterward. In the common interest of keeping our lives, I trust you won't do anything stupid.”
“But apparently we can talk, right?” said Pinkie Pie. “Talking's not moving. And if it were, you talked first, meaning we win.”
“This isn't something we can win,” warned Applejack. “For once the show-boater's right. Anything reckless and nopony wins today.”
“Although it's not like we have much of a choice,” offered Silver Shield. “Nothing's going to change unless one of us makes a move, right? And as soon as that happens, things get ugly. Why drag this out?”
“Easy for you to say,” countered Applejack. “You don't have a claw at your throat. If this turns all shades of ugly, you just walk away.” Mentioning the claw was enough to make Applejack rethink her situation. She looked up at the dragon, teetering on the fringes of familiarity. “Spike?” she asked. “Spike, is that you?”
The dragon cocked his head, trying to puzzle her out. “Huh? Do you know me?” he asked in a voice entirely unfitting of his large size.
“Don’t listen to her,” warned Trixie. “She’s trying to trick you.”
Spike shrugged. “Probably,” he agreed. “But it’s not like we’ve got anything else to do. The stallion was right. We're not going to get out of this until we do something, for good or bad.” He grinned at Applejack, trying to turn up the charm. “So hey,” he said, realizing that he wasn't likely to get very far with suavity when the mare was pinned beneath him. “Have we met before?”
“No, but I know a dragon just like you. Only he's a bit nicer, a bit more honorable. A better Spike than you.”
“A better Spike?” interrupted Trixie. “What do you mean by that?”
“Cut it, Trixie,” growled Applejack. “You already know all about us. Secret's been out for a while, hasn't it?”
“Applejack!” Pinkie’s wail cut into the conversation and burrowed into Applejack’s skull. “Why’d you do that?”
“Do what?” asked Applejack uncomprehendingly.
“You told her! She knew about us, and we knew she knew, but she didn’t know we knew she knew. And now that you’ve gone and spilled the beans, she knows we know she knows! What if she uses that knowledge against us? What if she had some plan that would have been foiled if we knew she knew but she didn’t know?”
“Beg pardon, Pinkie, but what kind of plan would require her to know we knew she knew we weren’t from here?
“I don’t know!”
“As fascinating as this conversation is turning out to be,” muttered Silver Shield, “and as taxing as it’s proving to be on our faculties, it’s not addressing Applejack’s point.”
“Which would be?” asked Spitfire beside him.
Silver Shield gave the mare in his clutches a triumphant grin. “The point being that our dear Trixie has an inside source. She believed that she was able to impersonate Twilight Sparkle, despite ostensibly having never met the mare.” He turned to Pinkie Pie. “You asked her the question like I suggested, right?”
Pinkie nodded. “Yup! And she got it right!”
“False security dooms us all, doesn’t it?” the stallion sneered at Trixie. “You probably thought we were checking to see if it was really you behind the mask. But we knew you were an imposter since the moment you set hoof in Appleloosa. The real Twilight Sparkle, both of them, are gone. What we wanted to know was whether or not Applejack’s pathetic excuse for a counterpart had been feeding you information. Call it the confirmation of a hunch.”
“Are you sure you want to be spilling all your secrets?” taunted Trixie. “Shouldn’t you be trying to hide this from me?”
“Why bother,” added Spitfire. “Either we capture you or you capture us, and the details hardly matter after that.”
Applejack was still fascinated by the bulky dragon pinning her down. “It’s really you, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Of course. I think I’d know if I wasn’t me.” Spike leaned in closer, trying to make his conversation personal, but a shout from Silver Shield and a threatening gesture toward Trixie made him back away slightly. “What’s it like, over there?” he asked. “What’s the other me like?”
“Tiny. You’re so grown up. And so… big.”
Spike shrugged. “It happens.”
“Mind explainin’ how you’re doing that growy-shrinky thing?”
“It’s dragon magic,” answered Spike, as if that simple explanation would suddenly allow everything to make sense.
“I’ve never seen anything like that before,” said Silver Shield. “And this is from a guy who studies magic. I can tell you what stunt a unicorn’s trying to pull by the way their horn wobbles. I have read and memorized every book on combat and utility magic published in the last century. And I have never heard anything about the vagrant disrespect for conservation of mass that you make look like foal’s play.”
“I guess I do make it look easy,” admitted Spike, “but it’s not. It took me months of training to learn how to control it. It first started happening on its own, a while back, and it was a mess. The bigger I got, the harder it was to think clearly. I just sort of became a monster. Trixie had to put me into a magical sleep so I wouldn’t wreck Canterlot. She tried to do research to find out what had happened to me, but most dragons stay away from pony civilizations. It turns out ponies don’t know very much about dragons at all. So Trixie realized that the only beings that might know anything about what was happening to me were other dragons, and she set out to find one. That’s a whole different story in its own right, though you should ask her about it sometime. Long story short, she finds a group of really old dragons willing to teach me. Most dragons these days succumb to instinct instead of learning to control it, so I guess they were excited to make sure their knowledge and ways lived on.”
“You almost make her sound like she’s not a complete monster,” said Applejack
Spitfire, who had been watching Trixie, noticed that the unicorn seemed stunned by the comment. Her face held a strange mix of embarrassment and anger.
“She’s not,” answered Spike. “She used to be so much stronger.” He paused, lost in his reminiscing. “We were the perfect team,” he recalled. “She was a different pony then, before the Nightmare. Wasn’t so worn. Wasn’t so desperate to keep things solid.”
“Solid?” asked Pinkie Pie, confused.
“Spike!” barked Trixie, losing her patience. Spitfire, who had noticed the mare’s quickening breath and oncoming frenzy, would have sworn Trixie was beginning to panic. “We planned for this. They can’t beat us if we fight back.”
“I know,” answered Spike. “But you know what? I’ve got a better idea.” He released Applejack and stepped away, stretching his limbs so that the single step took him far away from anypony. The he raised both of his front claws above his head.
“We surrender.”
Applejack was dumbstruck.
Trixie was seething. “That. Was not. The Plan,” she hissed.
“No. It wasn’t. But you’ve always said to make the most of every opportunity, to look for places to get ahead. And that’s precisely what I’m doing. I’m moving this along to its unavoidable end.”
“Seems a bit defeatist of you,” laughed Silver Shield.
“It’s a trap,” Spitfire whispered to him. “He waits until our backs are turned and he breaks her out.”
“Obviously,” he whispered back. He turned to address Spike. “You have a great deal of power here, Dragon,” he said. “There isn’t much point in either of us denying that. What do we have to judge you by other than good faith?”
“The fact that if I wanted to, I could escape at any time? Cuff me, if you have them. Or I could shrink down and you could put me in a bottle. But really, you probably shouldn’t do any of that. Because you don’t know me. You don’t know what can and can’t hold me, and I wouldn’t want you to let your guard down. If you want to hold me, keep a close eye on me and don’t let go of Trixie. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I let something happen to her. If you have her, you have me. Is that acceptable?” he asked Silver Shield.
Applejack answered for him. “Don’t bother the stallion,” she told Spike. “He’s not the one in charge, no matter how much he acts like it. Our work with him is done, as far as we’re concerned.” Finally freed from Spike’s grip, she stood up and stretched her limbs.
It took all of Trixie’s effort to keep from exploding into a violent rage, but she figured that thrashing about when trapped by a large and brutish stallion was probably not a good idea. “Traitor!” she shouted at Spike. “We’re supposed to be a team! A union! Why are you turning on me like this, you turncoat?”
“Not to you,” responded Spike with a gentleness and sincerity that surprised Applejack. “Never to you. No more keeping things solid. I told you that you had to face the things that are hurting you. That begins now.”
Rarity had never imagined that she would ever be able to sleep outside of a bed. And for the first couple of nights she hadn’t. Ignoring her hunger or the feeling of the rough stone floors had been impossible. But exhaustion eventually overpowered her. It may not have been beauty sleep, but restless sleep was better than nothing.
However, in her discomfort, she was frequently awakened by even the slightest disturbances. So she woke almost instantly when the door to the prison groaned open in the middle of the night (or what Rarity’s internal clock told her was the middle of the night; even if there were windows in her cell, the perpetual blackness wouldn’t have given her any clues.)
She watched Madame Orange open the door to her cell, and advance until she was just barely out Rarity’s reach. She was wearing a simple utilitarian green gown, with a matching saddle bag. Rarity was briefly disturbed by how despondent the mare seemed until she reminded herself that she didn’t care.
“Take my friends away all you like,” Rarity said stubbornly. “But don’t take away my sleeping time.”
“You don't have to like me,” began Orange, “but you still have to listen to me.”
“No. Go away.”
“I want to tell you a story. Surely you like hearing stories. This one is about a little filly, and it has everything a good story needs to have. A beginning. A climax. An ending, at least in mind. Do you want to hear it?”
Rarity eyed Orange, her gaze directing as much loathing as she could manage. “What I want,” she spoke through clenched teeth, “is to bash your stupid head in.”
Orange shrugged. “Fair enough. Let's make a deal. If you listen to my story, I'll give you this.” She grabbed a ribbon that was hanging out of her saddle bag with her teeth, removing the item attached to it and putting it on display. Rarity wasn't sure what to expect, but this wasn't it. A key, small and metal, dangled tantalizingly from Orange's mouth. Orange smiled, knowing she had the unicorn's attention as she placed the key on the floor, just out of reach.
“Is that...” began Rarity.
“The key to your chains? You listen to my story and the key is yours, on one stipulation.”
The entire setup seemed suspicious. There was no reason for Orange to just hand over the key. Something bigger was involved, and Rarity was curious about the catch. “You realize that if I got out, the first thing I would do is beat you into the pavement, right?”
“Actually,” muttered Orange, a bit sheepishly. “That's the stipulation.”
A moment of stunned silence followed. “I don't understand,” Rarity said at last.
“Then I suggest you sit still and listen to the story.”
Any weariness in Rarity was now replaced by curiosity. While she still insisted that she didn’t care about her captor in the slightest, the promise of escape and the cryptic request was enough for her to pay attention.
“Once upon a time,” Orange’s story began, “there was a little filly who lived on a farm with her family, whom she loved more than anything in the world. But after her little sister was born, both of her parents passed away suddenly, and she didn't know what to do about it. Everything at the farm reminded her of them. So one summer, she decided to leave and see what else there was in this world. She visited her aunt and uncle, who lived in a big city to the north. And although she didn't feel like she fit in at first, as she began to watch her aunt and uncle work, she soon realized that she had a knack for something they valued. Management. Business. She had the skills to gather and organize large groups of ponies. She had the memory to keep track of them all and to manage a budget, and the adaptability to make sure they played nice together. And more importantly than anything else, she had an eye for talent. In the small town she came from, it was pretty clear that she was going to grow up to be an apple farmer. But in the big city, the world was hers. She could be anything. And so she was. The filly became a mare.
“But tragedy struck. An ancient goddess returned to reclaim its throne, and the existing social order that the mare had grown to enjoy was gone. But when the true horrors of the new world became apparent, she realized that she had been thrust into a position of responsibility. For she had the power to bring the old world back.”
Rarity interrupted her. “I know this part already,” she said. “You and Twilight invented and marketed the artificial sun to make food. But when you tried to use it as leverage to get the family farm, the other me saw right through you and turned you away.”
“That's not what happened at all!” protested Orange. “I wanted to help my family!”
“I used to believe that,” said Rarity, eyeing the key. “And if that's how you want to tell it, fine. It's your story, after all. But trying to make yourself the victim doesn't earn you any sympathy points. So if you'd skip ahead to the part where you sold your soul to Nightmare Moon, then we can get out of this faster, and we'll both be better off.”
“I was about to,” muttered Orange bitterly. “But I don't want to hurry this up. I want to spend time with you, since I'm never going to see you again after this.”
Her response set off warning bells. “You aren't actually going to let me go, are you?” Rarity asked.
Orange nodded. “I swear to you, I am.”
“Then this won't be the last time we see each other. If I get out of here, then I'm regrouping with my friends and we'll be right back, together, to kick Nightmare Moon's sorry flank, and you with it.”
“I have no doubt that's true,” said Orange solemnly, and Rarity was for once unable to tell if she was being serious. “But I don't think I'll be here when you return.”
“And why is that?”
“Because,” Orange continued in the same resigned voice. “I'll probably be dead by then.”
Rarity was at a loss for words. “I don't understand,” she finally managed.
“Then I suggest you let me finish the story. You wanted me to jump to when the mare meets Nightmare Moon, right? So after this mare was spurned by her family and the stranger that took it over, she spent some time trying to figure out what she was going to do next. Her actions no longer seemed as important or as heroic as they had at first, now that she knew she wasn't going to be able to help her family, no matter what she did. It was then, in the midst of this moping, that the mare was approached by the goddess and offered a proposition. The goddess had been gone from the world for a thousand years, and had been spending her time learning how things had changed. She had discovered that the world had become a great deal more complicated in her absence, and she knew she could not easily integrate herself into it. But what was difficult for her would be a simple matter for somepony else. Her offer was simple. She wanted a mare to be her eyes and ears, keeping an eye over the rest of Equestria, and if it be deemed necessary, this mare would also influence the other ponies, pushing pieces into place. Few mares had the authority and power to offer such a service. But she had been forming a web of contacts and acquiantances all her life, and she had the money to pull the strings when necessary. she was perfect.”
“And you said yes.”
“She was never asked for her opinion on the matter. Employment was not optional. But she gave an answer anyway. She said no. She told the Nightmare Queen that she would sooner drop dead than ever do a thing for a horrid creature like her. But as you've probably learned by now, the Nightmare has ways of, well, encouraging compliance.”
Rarity smirked. “What did she do to break you? Torture? Suck out your soul? That would explain a bit.”
Orange shook her head. “As it turns out, the Nightmare Queen had fought in a war shortly before her banishment, and she had been responsible for the creation of several spells, all of which were hideously destructive and cruel. One of them was a death curse. It could deliver an excruciating demise, designed to kill in the slowest and most brutal ways imaginable. And if the mare refused to work with the goddess, she would use it to murder the mare's family.”
“Oh.” That was all Rarity could think to say. “Oh.” She swore she could hear the glass shattering as everything began shifting into place. “I didn't know...”
Orange grimaced, panting and holding back the tears. “Why do you think I got angry when you accused me of not caring about my family? Everything I do is to keep them safe. I despise myself. Every day I commit atrocities. I spy, I report, I lie. And I can't even tell my family the depths that I sink to to keep them alive, because then they'd only hate me more. Every day that I debase myself, set aside my morals, is another day they get to live in ignorance. I didn't have anypony to open up to. And then I found you.”
Rarity sighed. “And then you lost me,” she finished. “I wanted to help you. I wanted to help this whole world, but you had to turn me in. You had your chance.”
Orange turned away, suddenly unable to look Rarity in the face. Her cheeks burned from the shame. “I know. And you made me realize something. I've been working for the Nightmare for over a year, but nothing's changed. My family is still in the exact same situation they were in a year ago. I haven't done anything to secure their safety at all; I've only prolonged their inevitable demise. I think the lesson here is that if I want something, I need to go out and make it happen. It's funny. The last time I said that, I was bowing down to the Nightmare's demands. I hadn't really learned the lesson at all. But now I understand. I know what to do to save my family, and keep them safe forever. I think I always knew, but I was too scared to even contemplate it. But I see the way out now. And for the first time, I am honestly willing to do whatever it takes to save my family. You told me I couldn't deceive to save my life. You're wrong. I want to pull the ultimate one-up on Nightmare Moon, and I want you to help me do it.”
Rarity blanched. “You're serious,” she murmured.
“You said it. I can't lie; not to you, at least. But you can help me slip one past the Nightmare. One final trick. And it all starts with this key.”
Rarity eyed the key suspiciously. “You really think she's not going to suspect treachery when you let me go?” she asked. “Nightmare Moon's not stupid.”
“Of course not,” answered Orange. “That's why your release has a condition. If I let you go, we need to create an alternative explanation. An excuse. We can say that I was foolish enough to get close to you, and you took the key from me by force.”
Rarity scoffed. “So that's your condition? That I rough you up a bit, make you look like you were in a fight? I'd love to, but she won't buy that. She'll see right through you.”
“I know. And the Nightmare Queen knows I'm desperate. You could beat me within an inch of my life and she'd figure it out. But not if you went a little bit further.”
Rarity wasn't sure she understood. The explanation, while seemingly obvious to come to, was absurd. “Are you telling me to kill you?” she asked, suddenly growing weak.
“Think about it, Rarity,” said Orange, who seemed to grow bolder. “The only reason my family is in danger is because the Nightmare needs something to hang over my head. If I were to ever become useless to her, there would no longer be a reason to threaten my family. It would be too much effort, with no real gain. The problem is that I can't make myself useless, not without her seeking revenge. But after I'm gone, she can't punish me anymore. You can't get revenge against someone who won't be able to watch. I'll get the last laugh. If I die, my family is safe.”
“I can't do this.”
“You have to, or else I won't let you go. If I free you, and you decide to show mercy, then the Nightmare will figure me out and punish me. You'd be putting my family in harm's way. I can only release you if you swear, on your life, that you'll release me. You're right. I am in chains, my whole family is. You can free them all.”
Rarity sat in silence, letting Orange’s story sink in. If it was a bluff of some sort, it was the best one Rarity had ever seen. Which didn’t fit with Orange’s demonstrated inability to lie. She was the Element of Honesty, whether she admitted it or not.
She tried to imagine what it must be like for Orange. She imagined what she might do to keep Sweetie Belle safe. Would she die for her sister? In a heartbeat. Would she kill? Rarity realized that she had never even considered that possibility.
“I’ll do it,” she said. “Release me and I’ll do it.”
Orange nodded, but she hesitated to approach. Even though they had both consented, neither one was eager to initiate the exchange. It was the kind of situation that a pony might decide to delay a little, thought Rarity, and then delay more and more, since at any given moment it was better just to put things off for just another second longer.
Orange’s thoughts were much the same. But then she realized that this was the sort of waiting she had been using for a year now, the waiting that had been slowly eating away at her conscience and her spirit, until she had begun spending her days following orders without hesitation and her nights drinking herself to sleep. Ignoring every cowardly instinct, she brought the key forward in her mouth and undid Rarity’s shackles.
“Just so you know,” she said. “Just because you have to rough me up to fool the Queen doesn’t mean I have to be around for that part. I’d prefer it if you finish me as painlessly as possible and save all the scrapes and bruises for after I’m gone.”
Rarity was still trying to come to terms with the situation. “That’s depressingly blunt of you.”
Orange shrugged, her terror only breaking through in the quivering instability of the gesture. “Desperate times,” she stammered before she stepped back and lay down, trying hard to relax. “Just get this over with.”
She tensed with each hoofstep she heard Rarity make. Never before had she felt so exposed, and part of it made her giddy. There was nopony else she would trust with such a critical task.
She forced her eyes open, watching Rarity step into her field of vision. Even though the mare had been locked up for a week, despite the dirt in her coat and her ragged and disheveled mane and fetlocks, despite the obvious weariness in the unicorn’s eyes, Orange was breathlessly captivated.
Orange continued to lie still and wait. Neither pony made any action, both of them taking in the situation and the levels of trust they had both surprised themselves by exhibiting.
Rarity weighed her options. She wanted freedom. She needed freedom. If she wanted to strike a blow to Nightmare Moon’s reign, here and now was the time and place to do it. She made up her mind.
As Orange watched and waited tensely, Rarity lay down beside her and wrapped the two of them in a tight hug. And while it certainly wasn’t what Orange had been expecting, she realized that this calm serenity, this gentle touch, was a better outcome than anything she had been planning on. She wanted to cry, and she knew that Rarity would let her, but she didn’t want to ruin the stillness of the moment. She felt Rarity nuzzle her exposed neck, leaving a soft kiss in the nape. Orange felt relaxed as the fear of her death was pushed from her mind. She sighed, perhaps a bit too audibly to claim it was just from relief, but it was the only means she could think of to ease the pressure rising up within her. The feeling of relaxation gave way to an energetic excitement that was somehow in itself completely fulfilling, and Orange prayed that this moment, this strange sensation of lying tranquilly still while bubbling with enthusiasm, would last as long as she could savor it.
Then the moment ended, and Rarity stood, returning to the wall where she had been chained. “Alright, you can lock me back up now,” she said indifferently, as if the entire affair hadn’t happened.
Orange didn’t register the request at first, still lost in the bliss of the embrace. She stirred slowly when she finally realized that Rarity had left her. “What?”
“Lock me back up. Go on your way. Just promise me you’ll come back, of course.”
Orange wasn’t sure what she was feeling. It seemed as though her goals and aspirations had been torn away from her, and she felt the sting of a tantalizing gift being revoked. And even though she had been given something even more precious, she was at its mercy instead of being in control. “But you have to…” she protested. “For them…”
“I’m not going to do this to you. There has to be a better way. If we just bide our time and wait for the right moment…”
The fire that had been miraculously quelled once again sprang up with newfound fury. “No!” Orange screamed. “I am done waiting! I am sick and tired of waiting while the world burns around me. I deserve to get burned like all the rest of them. Don’t you understand that? I’ve hurt ponies. I’ve hurt a lot of ponies. And now I’m able to save the ponies I care about. And you will not stand in the way of that.”
Rarity balked. “You can’t make me kill you!” she cried. She watched the now-fuming Orange for a response, but she wasn’t prepared when Orange punched her in the face, knocking the unicorn off-balance and onto the floor.
She looked up at Orange in surprise and rolled to dodge another blow.
She backed away from the mare as she stood. “By Luna, what do you think…” she managed to stammer before a kick knocked her down again. “This is insane.”
“I am done waiting,” said Orange coldly. “Empathy isn’t working. If you won’t choose to help me, I’ll make you help me.”
“I want to help!” cried Rarity. “But not like this. This isn’t the solution.”
Orange began advancing on Rarity again. “You want me to stop?” she asked.
“Yes!”
“Then stop me.” And she charged.
Rarity tried to leap out of the way, but Orange still succeeded in ramming into her shoulder, sending her spinning.
“This is ridiculous!” she cried. “I’m not going to fight you! Not after we just… I just… You can’ t be serious.”
Orange wheeled and began marching toward Rarity. “I am completely serious,” she hissed. “Dead serious. More serious than I have ever been in my entire life. I need you to do this for me. You seem to be willing to do anything else I ask.”
Rarity noticed that she was crying, even as she continued her assault. The unicorn grabbed onto her again, pulling them tightly together. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she warned, “no matter what you do. Even if you put me in danger, I’m not going to fight back.”
“Ten minutes ago you said you wanted to kick my head in.”
Orange had given up trying to stand steadily, and Rarity’s weight on her pulled them both to the ground. “That was before I knew that you wanted me to. And right now, I don’t know what kind of stunt you’re trying to pull, but it won’t work. You want me to defend myself? Too bad. You can’t make me do something I don’t want to do. I thought we’d gone over that point already.”
Rarity felt the other mare continue to pummel her, but the blows weren’t particularly painful. “Do it!” cried Orange, howling in frustration but without any sort of anger. “Kill me or I’ll kill you!”
“You’re holding back, Applejack. You don’t want to do this either. So just stop, and we’ll figure something out. You want to save your family? Fine. I’ll help you. But for now you have something valuable: Nightmare Moon’s trust. Would killing yourself save your family from her wrath? Maybe. Would it make up for everything that the Queen’s ordered you to do? No. Would it ruin our biggest chance at actually putting a stop to her forever, instead of just slowing her down? Absolutely. You want peace? You can have it. You want me? Yesterday I would have called it impossible, but you’re winning me over. But I won’t let you give up this easily. I won’t let you take the easy way out so that she can’t extort you anymore. But you’re not alone. You’ll never be alone ever again if you don’t want to be.”
Rarity calmly awaited Orange’s response. Gradually, the earth pony mare’s struggling slowed and she broke down into soft sobs. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry.”
Rarity wasn’t sure what to say to counsel her, but as she opened her mouth to try anyway, a low and dull echoless thud interrupted her, its grotesqueness shocking her into silence. Orange jerked, stiffened, and then collapsed on top of her. Horrified, Rarity froze until she felt Orange being pushed off of her. Looking up, she saw Rainbow Dash eyeing Orange’s prone body with disgust.
“Oh, sweet Celestia!” cried Rainbow Dash when she noticed Rarity looking at her. She knelt down to hug Rarity, overcome first with concern, and then with surprise when the unicorn rejected her and scooted backward. “Are you alright?” Rainbow asked, worried.
“Rainbow Dash?” Rarity was too surprised to think clearly. “What did you just do? What did… Where did you come from? What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to rescue you, of course. She didn’t hurt you, did she?”
“Orange? No! For once in her miserable life she was trying to do something right, and you just… you just… heavens, you didn’t… kill her, did you?”
“Would serve her right if I did,” muttered Rainbow Dash, who begrudgingly went and checked for a pulse. “Nope. She’s alive. Want me to fix that?”
“No! How do you think I got out of those chains? She set me free, Rainbow.”
“Oh.” Rainbow spared another glance at the still-unconscious mare. “Sorry. But it looked like…”
“I don’t care what it looked like!” interrupted Rarity, a moment before she realized what it probably did look like. “She wasn’t hurting me.” She paused, suddenly confused. “And who set you free?”
“I don’t know. You, maybe. Last time I was in here, something just broke. I knew what they wanted me to do, but I didn’t have to.”
“I don’t buy that. If their spells were that easy to break, they wouldn’t be using them.”
“Okay then, here’s a theory. I’m the Element of Loyalty, right? I mean, I am literally Loyalty made flesh. I couldn’t betray a friend if I wanted to, no matter how much magic was trying to get me to do it. When the spell tried to make me choose Nightmare Moon over you, it just ran into a wall and stopped working. If I were anypony else I’d still be a zombie. Fortunately, I’m me. And being me, I don’t want to send a second more than I have to in this Celestia-forsaken dump. We’re busting out of here.”
Rarity gestured to Madame Orange, who groaned as she slowly began to come to. “And what about her?” she asked. “Are we just going to leave her here?”
“We’re not taking her with us, if that’s what you’re asking. She lied to you, Rarity. She lied to all of us, betrayed us, made our lives living hells. And the whole time she’s been creeping on you like some sort of obsessed fangirl. She was crazy about you, with an emphasis on crazy, so forgive me for not having the patience to ask whether or not she was attacking you. She’s dangerous and unpredictable and if you have any sympathy for somepony like her, you need to get over yourself and realize that she’s not worth it.”
Rarity watched Orange struggle to sit, touching the back of her head where Rainbow had kicked her and bringing the hoof away wet. She winced, and Rarity saw the pain flash across her face. That face had incited so much in her, Rarity realized. The face that had driven her to anger and a bitter tongue had also managed to draw out sympathy. Finally able to take a step back and see Orange as a complete mare, Rarity had no idea what to make of what she saw.
“Let’s just leave,” she told Rainbow. “I need to think.”
Orange panicked and intruded on the conversation. “Don’t. Please.” Her voice was weak, strained, defeated. “If you leave me here, she’ll know. She’ll know I set you free.”
“No she won’t,” said Rainbow. “I’m pretty sure I remember rescuing Rarity from a cretin like you. I saved her, not you. You wish you had the courage to play the hero. You wish you’d done enough good for Nightmare Moon to hurt you. But you never will, because you’ll always be her pawn. We all know that you’re nothing. So when Nightmare Moon shows up and asks you what happened, you can go back to being her little dog and tell her the truth. Tell her that Rainbow Dash saved the day while you were too much of a coward to help.”
“It’s okay,” added Rarity, trying to comfort her. “You have the injury from Rainbow Dash’s attack. You did your best to stop us, but she overpowered you. Nightmare Moon will buy it. You can spy on her, be a pony on the inside. Help us take her down from within. You live. Your family lives. Everypony wins. You want to make a difference, Applejack? This is how you do it.”
“I thought I told you when we first met, that’s not my name anymore. It doesn’t describe me. I’m not an Apple any more than you are.”
“Doesn’t it? You’ve set your entire life aside to protect your family. You’ve give them up so you can keep them safe. Loyal to the end, and the most dependable of ponies. You're the most stubborn pony I’ve ever met, but it’s your stubbornness that get things done. When you really get right down to it and move past the superficial similarities, you haven’t changed one bit. You’re the same Applejack I’ve known for years. And maybe I’m crazy. Maybe I’ve become downright insane in the head, because a year ago I never would have said this to Applejack at all, but I’ll say it now. I know that you’re her because there’s one thing that I would never do if you weren’t.”
She approached Orange, who still didn’t have the energy to get up. Rarity sat back on her haunches while Orange lifted her head, bringing them as close to eye level as they could.
“What is it?” asked Orange. “What’s the one thing you would never do unless I was Applejack?”
In response, Rarity lifted Orange’s head in her front hooves and kissed her.
Rainbow Dash gawked, unable to lift her jaw, as the two ponies shared the tender moment. To her, the scene playing out before her was peaceful, serene. Orange, in contrast, had never felt quite as energized. In a single moment she felt the shock race through her, kicking her pulse into gear and cycling her mind through an array of emotions, starting at disbelief and ending somewhere close to the strange intersection of excitement and utter contentment. The moment stretched on.
And then it ended. Orange, feeling full of strength, felt her head being lowered and lifted it of her own accord, diving back in to create a moment of her own. The touch made her feel light-headed, as if she had just been rocketed up to dizzying heights. She had absolutely no desire to return to the earth.
Rainbow continued to watch, unable to escape the feeling that she had just missed some crucial exchange that was necessary for the world to make sense. The situation had long since passed the line into uncomfortable territory. She coughed, and two faces turned toward her, both painted with an intense guilt.
“Not that I’m not enjoying this or anything,” said Rainbow Dash, “but this isn’t really the best time. Should we get a move on with our escape, or should I leave by myself and give you two some alone time to get captured again?”
Orange chuckled. “It’s fine,” she said to Rarity. “Go. You’re right. If Rainbow rescues you, than the Queen can’t blame me. I’ll still get to be her little pet, her loyal hound.”
“Come on,” said Rarity. “You know Rainbow didn’t mean that.”
“Yes, she did. And she’s right. I can’t stand up to her. I’m not strong enough. She terrifies me, and the only thing worse than obeying her is trying to run from her. That’s why she gives me as much freedom as she does. She knows that I won’t ever try to betray her. I don’t have the courage. I’ll keep working for her until the day I finally die, and we both know it.” She was surprised when Rarity embraced her, leaning forward to whisper into her ear.
“Then you’re both wrong. The only pony who can decide what happens is you. You need to ask yourself what you want, and then figure out what you need to do to get it. You only play into her game if you let yourself. And I believe you’re stronger than that. But nothing will change that we don’t make change.”
Orange shook her head, wondering how to get Rarity to understand. “It’s not that easy,” she said. “I wish it were.” Rarity kissed her on the top of her head, and she felt weightless, unburdened, as if the touch was all she needed finally erase the constant presence of the Nightmare. But the feeling only lasted while the kiss did, and when it ended she was once again cold and in the dark; she could still feel that suffocating force of the cloud.
Rarity released her and stood, and the invisible weight intensified. She felt as if she were literally being torn apart, and each step Rarity took dragged another piece of Orange’s own being away from her, spreading her so thinly she might just tear and lose that part of her forever.
“Rainbow and I are leaving now,” Rarity told her. “You can come with us if you want. We won’t force you to stay.”
“Just go,” muttered Orange, remembering the bitterness she felt whenever she mingled with the Queen’s incorporeal form. How dare they tease her with a peace she knew she could never have, dangle love above her head just to remind her that it was forbidden? As far as tormentors went, they were just as bad as the Nightmare Queen. Only with the aid of brief moments of happiness was despair truly felt.
Rarity and Rainbow Dash continued to watch her, uncertain of what to do.
“Go!” cried Madame Orange. “Please.”
“We’ll come back,” said Rarity. “When we need you, that’s when you can decide where you stand. But you’ll always have our support, no matter where we are.”
Orange didn’t respond, unable to even look at her. She kept her head to the ground, listening to the fading hoofbeats as the prisoners trotted away to freedom.
Freedom. Even the word seemed alien.
The hoofbeats vanished, and Orange was left alone in the crushing dark.
Up in the air, Rarity was almost tempted to believe that things were finally back to normal. Granted, she had never ridden a pegasus before, but for the first time in weeks, she was no longer surrounded by reminders that she was in a strange and uncannily eerie land.
“Where to now?” asked Rainbow Dash, reminding them of their situation. “We need to regroup.”
“The farm, then,” said Rarity. “Seems as good a place as any. Applejack should be there.”
Rainbow snickered. “You think you’re up for seeing Applejack?” she asked.
“Of course!” proclaimed Rarity, confused and offended. “Why wouldn’t I... oh.” Her voice lowered, her cordiality becoming deathly serious. “We are not to speak of that, least of all to Applejack. Do you understand?”
“I hear ya,” said Rainbow, still chuckling. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride. It’s probably the last thing you’ll enjoy for a while.”
Rarity fell silent. She couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of discontentment, like something was somehow off, and staring her in the face. Madame Orange’s words echoed around in her head.
I deserve to get burned like all the rest of them. Don’t you understand that?
I’ll keep working for her until the day I finally die, and we both know it.
Go. Just go.
“The last time I was carrying you, you had nearly fallen to your death, hadn’t you?” asked Rainbow, trying to lighten the mood. Instead, she felt her passenger bolt upright, throwing off her balance. “Hey, watch it!” she cried. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Turn around,” was Rarity’s order. “Right now.”
“What?” shouted Rainbow incredulously. “We risk hide and feathers to get out of there and you want to go back? No. We are getting as far away from that miserable torture chamber as possible.”
“I’m serious, Rainbow Dash. Turn around this instant. We’re going back.”
“No, we’re not. This discussion is over.” A moment later, Rainbow felt her wings cramp up and the pair took a nosedive. As she struggled to fully extend her wings, she noticed the blue glow that surrounded them.
“Let go!” she cried as she managed to level off despite the constriction, but only barely. As she began to falter again, she added, “Are you trying to kill us? I said let go!”
“Are you going to turn around?” asked Rarity in a reprimanding tone better suited for a parent punishing a naughty child.
“No!” This seemed to not be the correct answer, since Rainbow felt the telekinetic limb constricitng her wings squeeze, and they began to lose altitude. “Fine. Yes! I’ll turn around. You happy?”
The pressure vanished instantly. Rainbow turned and scowled at her insane friend and discovered the grimmest most anxious expression she had ever seen on Rarity.
She changed direction without a word and turned back the way they had come.
What struck Madame Orange the most as she stepped outside was the wind. At first blustery, and then unnaturally still, the wind intensified and ebbed, shifting directions, as if it hadn’t quite made up its mind. Ferociously tumultuous or deathly calm, either way would have been appropriate.
From the balcony, Orange admired the horizon. The sky was trapped in a perpetual dawn or dusk, as it had been for what seemed like an eternity. The wind had chosen that particular moment to fall silent, and Orange was almost fooled into thinking that she was looking at a photograph. It was the same photograph she had been wandering through for over a year. The same unchanging and unending nightmare.
“Nothing will change that we don’t make change,” Orange repeated. The phrase was even truer now than it had ever been before. All of the days she had begun working for the Queen seemed to blend together in Orange’s mind, like it was a single moment that didn’t end. She wondered if this was the psychological effect of no longer having a sun to observe the passage of time.
Endless. That was the new defining feature of the world. That one word had haunted her, but she’d finally figured it out. It was a riddle, teasing her constantly, but now she’d found the solution. The secret flaw in the Nightmare Queen’s master plan. The hole in the web. Rainbow’s breakout had provided Orange with not only an alibi, but an opportunity.
Madame Orange stepped over the railing.
“I'm sorry, Rarity. I'm really truly sorry. But I'm not the mare you described. Honest? Loyal? That's not me. I never was. I think you have me confused with somepony else. Somepony stronger. I'm not your Applejack. She's out there, somewhere, and you've projected her onto me. But I don't deserve that honor.
“I'm done fighting. I'm so tired now. So unbelievably, bone-numbingly tired. I can't be your spy. I don't have the strength to stand up to the Nightmare Queen. All the strength I had she's managed to take away from me.
“So here I am now. Back at the beginning, faced with the same choice that's been chasing me all these years. I can't run anymore, and it's finally caught up with me. But I can still pull off one last trick. Take away one of the pieces on the Queen's side of the board. I wish I could be a better help, but after everything I've done, this is all I've got left. My final gambit. I can still save my family. Rainbow pushed me. I tried to stop her and she pushed me right off the edge. That's the conclusion she'll come to, right? And then I'll be free. And then we'll all be free. My family will be safe.
“Goodbye, Rarity. You were amazing. The most amazing mare I'd ever met in my life. I didn't deserve you. I took everything away from you, and you found it in yourself to love me anyway. I guess I know now why you're the Element of Generosity. You gave, selflessly, to a pony like me. And all you took was my heart. But even that's too much. Your Applejack is out there, waiting for you. But wherever she is, she's far away from here.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful. But I can’t help you. I can’t go back to her. This is all I have left.”
Orange peered out over the edge, struck by how far the drop was and instinctively grabbing onto the railing with her front hooves out of fear. She tried to figure out the best way to go about it. She wasn’t incredibly eager to leap off. Given her weariness, maybe the best course of action would simply be to let go.
And yet her stubborn limbs refused. She slackened her grip and leaned forward, but the moment she felt the pull of gravity take hold she tightened her hold on the railing. Let go, she commanded herself. Do this for your family. They need you.
She imagined the faces of her family, and what the Nightmare Queen would do to them as punishment if she slipped up by… doing what, exactly? Not jumping wasn’t putting her family in harm’s way, not when she could claim she had been overpowered.
What are you waiting for? she chastised herself. You coward. Think about Apple Bloom. She tried to picture her little sister, living in a world free of the shadow of the Queen.
Horror slowly descended on Orange as she realized she couldn’t recall her sister’s face. She hadn’t been back to the farm much since she had become a Manehattanite. She barely knew her sister at all. And here she was willing to die for her.
Unless…
The realization hit her, hard. This had never been about protecting her family. It was always only Orange. “What do you want?” Rarity had asked her, and while Orange still didn’t have an answer, she realized what definitely wasn’t it.
She was not ready to die. Flooded with relief, she took a step back from the edge.
Her rear hoof banged against the railing she had forgotten was there, despite her earlier death grip on it. She winced in pain, cradling her bruised hoof with her front legs. As she let go of the railing, her body pitched forward, her one remaining hoof on solid ground lost its purchase, and she toppled into the void.
No longer holding on to anything solid, Orange did the only thing she could still do.
She screamed.
“No...” whispered Rarity as she heard the cry hit them. She could see Orange now, plummeting down the edge of the castle. But they were still too far away away. They hadn’t even entered Canterlot yet, although the city had filled most of their vision. “Go faster!” she screamed at Rainbow Dash. “Catch her!”
Since the city stuck out of a mountain, it was possible that if Orange had fallen out of the city limits, she’d still have a long way to fall. But as they got closer, Rarity realized this wasn’t the case.
“We’re not going to make it,” said Rarity, frozen with horror. “I’m going to try and grab her.”
She wasn’t even sure if her magic would work at this range, or if she was accurate enough to grab a moving target. But with no other choice, she had to put faith in her abilities and try. She focused on the falling pony, imagining a rope connecting them, and a shield protecting her. She closed her eyes and strained, trying to summon as much power as she could. Her magic had certainly improved with all the cloud-walking spells Orange had convinced her to provide them with, and she prayed that would be enough.
“It worked!” cheered Rainbow Dash, and Rarity opened her eyes to discover that Orange had indeed slowed in her descent, and she was enveloped by a dark blue aura. “You did it.”
That was strange, thought Rarity. That had been a lot easier than she thought it would have been. She had just attempted what she considered to be a monumental undertaking, and she had barely felt any strain at all. In her past experiences, lifting an object, even magically, did not prevent a pony from feeling its weight. But right now, she certainly didn’t feel like she was lifting anypony at all.
And besides, wasn’t her magical aura a little bit lighter than that?
“Uh oh,” she whispered.
“What’s wrong?” asked Rainbow Dash as they closed the remaining distance and landed in a small garden by the palace. “You caught her.”
Ahead of them, Orange was softly lowered to the ground, where she collapsed.
“No, I didn’t,” said Rarity.
“What are talking about?”
The fourth pony seemed to appear from nowhere, stepping out of shadows that were far too small to hide her. She was taller than the rest of them, and she towered over Orange as she grinned down on her maliciously. Her black coat was hidden only by her crystal helmet and body armor, and Orange could see the sharp fangs in her mouth. Her mane blew softly in the wind, nearly transparent and etherial.
“Go on, pretend I’m not here,” urged Nightmare Moon. “This has been exciting so far, and I’m so curious to see what happens next.”
Spitfire had been to Appleloosa once before the darkness fell, back when she wore the bright outfit of a Wonderbolt, instead of the cheap imitation uniforms the Queen had ordered them to wear. She wondered if it could have been possible for the Queen to pick a more repugnant color scheme, and whether she had done so on purpose. The bright yellow trim on the dark purple uniform was the closest Spitfire had ever come to hating something so reminiscent of the past life she had loved.
She glanced down at the makeshift replacement outfit she had managed to throw together as she walked. The colors were right, even if it was just a pair of pants and a hooded coat. Dressing in blue just felt more natural for her, and she figured it was the perfect way to commemorate her return to her priorities.
Following Applejack hadn’t brought back Soarin. She really shouldn’t have been surprised. But finally separated from the Queen, she was able to step back and look at the world. And the clarity surprised her.
The world was still tainted by Soarin’s memories, but that was okay. She liked it that way. She remembered that when they’d performed their show in Appleloosa, so long ago, Soarin had managed to strike it up with a young settler pony from the Apple family. She wondered what had happened to him. She hadn’t seen the stallion around anywhere.
Spitfire arrived at her destination, a smaller building near the center of town. Like most of Appleloosa, it was in disrepair. All she cared about was that it appeared to be abandoned.
She made her way through the kitchen, noting that a pan of curry was simmering on the stove. Her stomach groaned, and she wondered if it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle if she asked to join them for lunch. The caretaker was such a good chef, Spitfire wouldn’t mind being put in her care if she had to.
Following a door in the back of the kitchen, she arrived in the bedroom. The room was sparse; anything of any value had been taken when its former occupants left. All that remained was a chipped and dirty vase on a dusty table, and a bed that looked as if it could far apart if more than one pony was on it at a time. A pegasus pony stood over the bed, changing the dressing on her patient’s bandages.
“How’s she doing?” Spitfire asked.
“Not good,” sighed Fluttershy. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her.”
Spitfire moved next to her and she felt pity as she looked at the pony in the bed. Her burns weren’t that bad, but she still seemed to be in a lot of pain.
“I thought you should know that we did it,” said Spitfire, desperate to change the topic. “Let her know when she wakes up. We captured Trixie, and we’re that much closer to making things right again.”
“Like she cares,” muttered Fluttershy angrily. “You don’t honestly think she gives a feather what happens to us, do you? It’s her fault we’re in this mess to begin with.”
“You shouldn’t be so harsh on her. She’s your friend,” said Spitfire, guiding her to the rocking chair and sitting on the floor beside her. “I know these past weeks haven’t been easy, but we need to be able count on each other.”
“You’re right that I should be nicer to her,” admitted Fluttershy. “And I try to be nice to her when she’s awake. But she’s not my friend. And I look at her and I see my friend and it’s hard. I can’t even take care of her without remembering what she took from us. I know that my special talent is taking care of animals and things, and I know I’m the Element of Kindness, but it’s hard when it’s her. She brings out the worst in me.” She looked at the purple unicorn in the bed and then at Spitfire. “Does that make sense? Is that a thing? I don’t think I’m scared of her, not anymore, but it’s still just so hard to be around her.”
“I don’t blame you,” said Spitfire. “This isn’t easy for any of us.”
“Can I tell you something?” asked Fluttershy. “Something I haven’t told anypony since you found us lost in the woods up north?”
“My lips are sealed.”
Fluttershy pointed outside and stood up. Spitfire followed her out of the room.
“It should have been her,” said Fluttershy once she decided it was impossible for Twilight to hear them. “I want my Twilight back. She should have been the one to live.”
Keeping an insane and dangerous unicorn captive didn’t exactly fill Applejack with certainty of safety. The mare knew she probably wasn’t going to get much sleep. There were far too many pressing issues, too many irons roasting to painfully blistering heat in the fire. But the exertion of capturing Trixie had left her exhausted, so dammit if she wasn’t going to try and get some shuteye anyway. As long as they kept exposing her to poison joke, she would be harmless. Spike would be much harder to contain, but for now Applejack was willing to trust him. He certainly had a lot of explaining to do, though.
She stumbled into her bedroom, staggering a little in the darkness, but there was no sense in striking a match. She yawned and stretched as she made out the edges of her bed.
And then she froze when she noticed the shape in the bed.
Scratch that. The two shapes in the bed, one much smaller than the other. Applejack gasped and backstepped, painfully butting into the wall. Her pulse quickened as she realized the larger figure was looking at her. Thinking quickly, she pushed open the curtains, letting the ambient light fall on the other ponies in the room.
The larger one, now clearly a mare, drew her attention first. She was filthy and unkempt, her tail in knots and her mane falling down in front of her face, hiding one eye completely and creating a forest through which the other one was able to peer through, although it wasn’t looking at anything in particular. The mare’s mouth had broken into an impossibly large grin. Applejack followed the mare’s stained pink coat down her front leg to the butcher’s knife she held threateningly close to the second pony. Applejack’s motherly protective instincts flared up as she got a closer look at the smaller figure, a small filly, her red hair tied up in a bow.
At the sight of Applejack, the pink mare’s grin seemed to widen even further, a feat Applejack would not have considered possible. “Hello, Applejack,” she cooed. “Oh. I’m sorry. You’ve been going by ‘Star Glimmer’, haven’t you?”
“Pinkie Pie?”
The mare howled in irritation. “No more Pinkie Pie,” she hissed. “Pinkie Pie was the name my family had for me. I don’t really have a family anymore, do I?”
Applejack forced herself to look away from Pinkie’s eyes to get a glance at her cutie mark. Hearts instead of balloons. She didn’t know if the observation made it better or worse. If anything, it seemed to indicate that this wasn’t a prank. As far as she knew, the Pinkie Pie of this world wasn’t much of a prankster.
“What are you doing with Apple Bloom?” asked Applejack, her voice cracking.
“Call it justice.” Pinkamena’s features softened as she admired the sleeping form of the filly. She stroked Apple Bloom’s mane, adjusting her body to cradle the smaller pony protectively. “An eye for an eye. And a foal for a foal.”