Twilight buried her head under her pillow, blocking out the thin strip of sunlight that peeked through her lavender curtains. The throbbing pain in her head thumped in time with her heartbeat, agitated further by her celestial wake-up call.
“Twilight, are you planning on getting up soon, or should I start clearing more off your schedule?”
The mound of fluff shifted as she lifted the edge of her pillow, revealing the stubby green and purple dragon standing in her bedroom doorway, tapping his claws together patiently.
“Good morning, Spike.”
“Good afternoon, Twilight,” he corrected.
Twilight’s response more closely resembled a guttural moan than any legitimate word. She sat up quickly enough to make the room spin, letting her pillow fall uselessly next to her. Yawning, she hurriedly rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
“Do we have any coffee made, Spike?”
“I’ll warm up a cup for you. Do you want me to bring it here?”
“That’s kind of you to offer, Spike, but I think I should probably be getting up anyway.” She graced him with a kind smile.
“Don’t mention it.” Spike waved a claw nonchalantly as he disappeared.
Kicking the sheets to the foot of her bed, the princess heaved her legs over the edge, letting the rug’s shaggy fibers tickle her hooves as she pulled herself up.
She recognized the familiar surroundings of her Ponyville castle. High in the vaulted peaks of the crystal hallway, banners fluttered on golden rods. Many of the waving cloths bore her personal mark: her six-pointed star. The few exceptions were embroidered with symbols of her friends.
Her slow steps echoed through the empty hallway.
She didn’t remember falling asleep last night. Nor could she recall coming home. In fact, the longer she searched through the recesses of her mind, the more blank spaces appeared where her memories should be.
Trotting through the door at the end of the hallway, Twilight found herself in the main hall. A shimmering crystal table waited in the center of the room, surrounded by several matching thrones. Only one was occupied. The stocky orange mare reclined in her seat, her face hidden beneath the wide brim of a tan hat. A long blonde ponytail rested on her shoulder, held tight by a red ribbon.
“Applejack?” Twilight inquired.
The orange mare flicked her hat back, revealing piercing green eyes and a hospitable grin.
“Well look at you. Wasn’t sure you’d be up and walking yet. Not after last night,” Applejack sang in her customary southern drawl.
“Last night?” Twilight asked, a pinch of worry in her voice.
“You don’t remember? Pinkie threw a party for you?”
Twilight frowned. “I don’t remember anything from last night.”
“Shoot, Twilight.” Applejack glanced around the room. “You’d better not let Chrissy hear you say that. She’d be furious.”
“Why would she be upset?” Twilight kept her head low, waiting for the changeling to lunge at her from some unseen nook in the room.
“Wow, I guess Pinkie’s party really did a number on you. Don’t you worry, I’ll explain everything over breakfast – or lunch, at this point, I guess.” Applejack hopped out of her chair with an athlete’s dexterity, accompanying Twilight for her short walk to the kitchen.
“By the way,” Applejack started, “how’s your wing?”
As they walked, Twilight gave her wing an experimental flap. The resulting pain forced her to stumble. Applejack caught her before she could fall.
“That bad, huh?” she figured.
“What the heck happened last night?”
Applejack snorted. “You agreed to be a test subject for Pinkie’s newest cupcake recipe. I don’t know what she put in it, but you seemed to enjoy it well enough. Next thing we knew, you were dancing on tables and somersaulting through the air.”
“I what?” Twilight froze, her cheeks bright red.
“It was kind of impressive at first,” Applejack reassured her. “Then you lost your balance during a particular stunt. You broke three tables when you landed.”
“Why didn’t anyone stop me?”
Applejack rolled her eyes. “We tried to. Have you ever tackled a magic-spewing alicorn, Twilight? I’ll give you a hint, you’d best be prepared to lose.”
Twilight gasped. “I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?”
“Only Rainbow’s pride.”
Reaching their destination, the ponies settled around the kitchen table, a plain wooden thing that looked out of place among the lavish furnishing of the castle. Spike stood on a short stool that allowed him to reach the countertop, heating a purple mug with a splash of green fire.
“Howdy, Spike.” Applejack tipped her hat to the dragon.
Spike held up a claw, motioning for her to wait. Only when a small wisp of steam emanated from the mug, he extinguished his fire and responded.
“Morning, Applejack. You want me to make you anything?”
“If you want to start serving that pie I brought over, that would be delightful, Spike.”
“Sure. Twilight, you want some too?”
“Of course. Thanks, Spike.”
While Spike searched the kitchen for pie, Twilight continued their earlier conversation.
“So, I tried one of Pinkie’s cupcakes and went crazy.” Twilight recapped.
“That just about covers it. She refused to tell us what she put in it. Claims it’s a secret family recipe or something like that.”
“Didn’t anyone else eat one? I wasn’t the only one, was I?”
“She said she made it special for you. For your special day.”
Behind them, the kitchen door opened and shut. None of the room’s occupants noticed the new arrival.
“My special day?”
“I think you mean our special day.”
Twilight and Applejack turned in tandem toward the sleek black form of Chrysalis. She stood still, her face painted with an excited smirk. A glassy black horn protruded from her forehead, making her taller than the door behind her.
“Chrysalis?” Twilight blushed. “We were just talking about . . . how much I enjoyed last night.”
The three others in the room watched Twilight with an amused expression.
“Really, Twilight?” The changeling queen stepped forward, leaning in close enough that Twilight could feel warm breath on her face. “Don’t think you can pull that on me. I’m a much more experienced liar.”
She kissed Twilight’s cheek before pulling away.
“I . . . I . . .” Twilight stammered.
“Go ahead and tell her, Applejack.”
“The party last night was to celebrate your engagement.”
“Engagement?” Twilight nearly choked on the word.
Chrysalis unleashed a hearty cackle. To Twilight, it sounded sweet and menacing simultaneously. A blinding flash of green light changed the queen into a mare, though still wearing the same color scheme as her true self. Her smaller frame fit snugly into the unoccupied chair beside her fiancée.
“Well you could at least try not to sound so disappointed,” Chrysalis scoffed.
“I’m not disappointed. Well, I am, but not about that. I mean . . . I wish I could remember. I’m sure it was great.” With each boggled explanation, Twilight grew more flustered.
The changeling’s annoyed look melted away. She placed a comforting hoof onto Twilight’s shoulder. “I’m messing with you. You don’t need to be so worried all the time.”
“I’ve been telling her that for years,” Spike said, his head still buried in the fridge.
The ponies erupted in a fit of giggling. Twilight’s reluctant amusement at her own expense shattered as a painful shock seared through her head. She gasped, pressing her hoof against her temple. The laughter ended abruptly.
“Twilight, are you alright?” Chrysalis was already out of her seat, searching for injuries.
“I’m alright.” Twilight took a deep breath. “Just a headache.”
Although she didn’t mean the statement as a lie, Twilight couldn’t help but feel a tingle of guilt for saying it. Her headaches tended to last all day, and mostly manifested in a dull throb. This felt different. A quick and excruciating jolt. New thoughts crawled into her head from an unknown source. Before she could even try to understand them, one spilled from her mouth.
“Chrysalis, how long have we been together?”
The changeling looked at Applejack, who responded with a shrug.
“Three months.” Her search turned up nothing, and Twilight seemed to be feeling better, so she leaned back in her chair.
“Three months?” Twilight questioned.
“I know it isn’t that long in the grand scheme of things. If you think we’re moving too quickly, we can wait a little longer. I just thought that you—”
“It’s fine. I just . . . had a weird thought,” Twilight explained.
Neither Chrysalis nor Applejack looked convinced, but they didn’t press the issue, much to Twilight’s relief. If they had, she doubted she could explain. Something about the answer sounded wrong, but she couldn’t pin down why.
“Perhaps you should see a doctor, just in case. You know, make sure everything’s still working upstairs,” Applejack suggested.
“I’m alright. I promise.”
“If you’re sure,” Chrysalis capitulated.
“I am.”
“I found it,” Spike announced, pulling a mostly intact pie from one of the shelves in the fridge. A single slice had been taken from the tin, allowing the apple filling to leak into the empty space.
“There should be a serving spatula in the drawer next to the sink,” Twilight called, the awkwardness of her episode already fading from her mind.
Spike retrieved the triangular serving utensil from its place. Clambering back up the stool, he set the dessert on the counter. With her magic, Twilight pulled four plates from one of the higher cabinet shelves, setting them on the counter close enough for Spike to load them. Once he finished, Twilight levitated the plates over to the table. Spike traded his stool for the last open chair at the kitchen table, passing out a collection of forks to his companions.
Spike, Applejack, and Twilight dug into their meal. Chrysalis merely observed, tilting her head as she considered her options.
“You alright?” Twilight asked, balancing a chunk of flakey crust on her mystically controlled fork.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had apple pie before,” Chrysalis stated.
“Well we ought to fix that right now,” Applejack nodded furiously. “I promise you’ll like it.”
Succumbing to the pressure, Chrysalis speared an apple slice with her silverware, hovering it up to her face for a closer look. Sugary amber dripped from the fruit. After a short visual inspection, Chrysalis bit the end off the slice. Her eyes widened at the sudden assaulting sweetness.
“Applejack, this is amazing!” she cried.
Twilight and Spike nodded in agreement.
“Well, as much as I would love to take credit for this delightful example of apple perfection, I’m afraid this isn’t my handiwork. I figured that such an occasion called for some true old-fashioned cooking. Consider it a gift from Granny Smith.” Applejack beamed. “But I will be sure to pass along your kind words.”
The four of them ate in silence, enamored by the skill of the Apple Family’s traditional cooking. Only after a second round did their voice return.
“Speaking of Granny Smith, we’re not keeping you from your work on the farm, are we, Applejack?”
“Don’t you worry about that, now. After last night, the girls and I decided that you might need someone to take care of you. I volunteered. Don’t you fret. Big Mac and Apple Bloom are more than capable of handling the chores until I get home.
“Still, I suppose I’d better be heading out soon. I’m sure the two of you would like to spend some time together without any bothersome guests.”
“Well, I did have an idea for something we could do today, but you can stay as long as you like, Applejack,” Chrysalis declared. “Any friend of Twilight’s is a friend of mine.”
“That’s mighty kind of you, but I think I’ll go ahead and get out of your hair for now. I’ll stop by later to check up on you if that’s alright?”
“That’s a long trip for you to make, Applejack. It’s not necessary. You go home and be with your family,” Twilight ordered.
“Alright, alright. I’ll be heading this way for a delivery tomorrow morning. I’ll check in with you then. You two take care of yourselves, now. I don’t want to be hearing about any more stunt flying out of you, Twilight.”
“No stunt flying. Got it,” Twilight pledged.
“Then I think it’s time I start heading home. I can show myself out.”
“Thanks for your help, Applejack.” Chrysalis waved.
Applejack tipped her hat one final time before slipping out of the kitchen and back into the main room. Even from here, they could hear the heavy front door open and close.
“So, Spike, you mentioned something about my schedule for today?” Twilight asked, clearing the table and depositing the dirty dishes into the sink.
“Oh, that. There were a few folks around town who were looking for advice with their friendship problems. I took the liberty of rescheduling everything for tomorrow.”
“I can handle it, Spike.”
“Too late. Plans have already changed. I’m afraid you have no choice but to enjoy your day off, Twilight.” The dragon smirked. “Oh, but before I forget, you did get a message from Celestia.”
“Oh?” Twilight perked up.
“She wanted me to remind you that the Gala is coming up soon. She also offered her services as an instructor, in case either of you needs lessons on proper high-society dancing etiquette. Whatever that means.”
“Twilight, you didn’t warn me that our relationship would require me to learn dancing. I’m not sure our love is capable of withstanding such hardships.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “Dancing can be fun.”
“Is that why you avoid it whenever possible?” Spike snarked.
“Quiet, Spike,” Twilight snapped back.
“As fun as that sounds, I did have an idea for something we could do together today, if you think you’ve recovered enough,” Chrysalis piped in.
“Sheesh. You guys act like I’m so fragile. I’ve been thrown through a mountain for Celestia’s sake. A table or two can’t break me.” Twilight emphasized her tenacity by jumping up from her seat.
“Alright, calm down. I believe you.” Chrysalis waved.
“Then tell me what you’re planning. You’ve got me all excited for it.”
“A trip of sorts. I wanted to take you somewhere special.”
“Special?” Twilight considered the possibilities. “Any hints?”
Chrysalis shook her head intently, springing her mossy mane back and forth.
“Do we need to bring anything?” Twilight tried, hoping to glean some small piece of information from the secretive changeling.
“Nope.”
“Do I have to wear a blindfold?”
“If you . . . want to.” Chrysalis raised an eyebrow.
“I meant . . . nevermind. Let’s get going. I’m getting all anxious.”