There was no point sugarcoating it, the flames and smoke may have subsided but their aftereffects could still be felt, and not just in the gaudy looks of the new barn—Applejack’s trees were sick and required immediate attention. Apple Bloom and Big Mac spent the whole morning hauling bucket after bucket of water into the orchard, washing down each tree individually.
Applejack meanwhile was in the process of tying a thick blanket around one of the already cleaned trees, before it could catch a cold, when suddenly a carriage landed next to her. One of its doors slammed open and Pinkie beckoned her inside.
Applejack looked at her, then at her tree and the half-tied blanket, then sighed. She threw down the rope and climbed into the vehicle.
“Where are we going this time, Miss Pie?” she asked, exasperated. Applejack could only hope the others would be enough to manage the situation. “Don’t you see my trees need me?” she asked with no real hope of convincing Pinkie to turn them back.
Pinkie, indeed, seemed to be preoccupied with something completely different. “Aw that’s a shame,” she said quickly, hardly even paying attention to Applejack’s words, before her face lit up. “But there’s good news, Jackie! Your testimony is ready! I’m super-duper excited myself,” she continued, bouncing with joy. Then she leaned closer to Applejack and shot her a conspiring glance. “There is one thing, however, I wanted to ask you. Please-please-please be kind to the author. Rarity is very sensitive… She’s a… well…” Pinkie swirled around her hoof, staring off into the distance as she looked for the right word. “A real artist-type, y’know?”
Applejack did not know, but she sighed and then nodded nevertheless. The carriage took off.
Whoever this Miss Rarity was, Applejack was sure she must have been one stuck-up pony. The chariot came to a halt next to a small hillside villa, which gleamed from the amount of glass and white marble used—Rarity’s retreat when she worked on a particularly important piece of work, Pinkie explained. Applejack wondered just how fancy her real home must have looked if this place was a mere ‘retreat’ to her. Loud birdsong filled the fresh air as a small brook babbled nearby, and, as the sunlight snuck through the thin cover of leaves of the trees cresting the decadent home, it fell on a small garden of statues which stood in front of the villa.
It was a veritable little Canterlot on its own and yet, unlike the bustling metropolis, they only found a single unicorn inside. A unicorn who was at the moment bent over a desk and grimacing like she was in deep anguish. A quill held by her magic scribbled with blinding speed on a parchment.
“Oh, Rarity! We’re here~” Pinkie sang, breaking the tense silence around the mare. “Are you ready yet?”
Rarity didn’t look up. “Pinkie, darling, look. I’m very happy to see you being so punctual as always, but this isn’t some dingy sweatshop. Please do sit down and wait for just a little while longer.”
They obliged her, Applejack and Pinkie sitting in silence while the quill continued its dance. The birds sang, the papers ruffled.
“Rares, you told us the date,” Pinkie spoke again after a few minutes.
“Still, Pinkie, sweetheart. Patience,” Rarity grumbled, while she kept on writing. “Art cannot be rushed. It is not as if I am making some mass-produced two-bit dress. My work takes time.”
Finally the quill touched the paper one last time, leaving a final dark dot. Rarity sighed deeply as her gaze lingered on the parchment for a few seconds, admiring her work. Then she looked up. “Ah, it is complete,” she sighed again in contentment. “Go ahead, read it.”
Her magic gathered the pages and floated them over to the others. “You know full well Pinkie Pie that I’m very strict towards the quality of my work. But this time I am completely certain I have outdone myself.” Rarity threw her mane back as her smile shone with self-confidence.
She took a good look at the pony sitting next to Pinkie and raised an eyebrow. “So I take you’re Applejack?”
“Yup, howdy.”
“Ah, I am so envious of you!” Rarity raised a hoof to her temple and closed her eyes, as she sighed dramatically. “Few are lucky to play their role with a script of this quality.” She quickly cleared her throat and composed herself. “Now go ahead, don’t be shy, just read.”
They began reading. Meanwhile Rarity stepped to a small cupboard nearby and filled a small glass with sparkling champagne, drinking it in one gulp.
“So, where are you at right now?” she asked nervously.
“The Changeling-squirrels,” said Pinkie without looking up.
“And… how do you like it?” Rarity’s voice wavered just a tiny bit.
“I dig it.” Pinkie nodded approvingly as she continued to read. “This is some unique stuff, Rara.”
“I rewrote it around five times,” Rarity replied with pride in her voice. “I simply cannot stand clichés. Please continue.”
Pinkie continued to read with surprisingly little fidgeting. Finally, she placed the stack of papers next to herself.
“Well?” Rarity asked with a hint of hysterics, almost appearing as if she was on the verge of tears.
Pinkie remained silent for a second or two before her face almost split in two from the wide smile that spread on it. “I simply love it!” she yelled, pulling Rarity into a tight hug.
Applejack was still reading through at a slower pace while the two were occupied with one another. She concentrated on some of the more complex words, but it was all for naught, she just felt completely and utterly lost. “So, uh, I’ll need to memorise all this?” she asked, red from embarrassment.
“Well you’re the star witness, aren’t you?” Rarity replied once she managed to tear Pinkie away from her. Her tail flicked with a hint of offence. “But go ahead, tell me if you don’t like something. We’re all friends here, I can take critique.”
Applejack cleared her throat. “Well, umm,” she stammered. “Look, I might be mighty outta the loop here, but honestly…” She pulled the paper closer to her eyes and reread one particular section. “I think it’s pretty apple-bucking silly to say that Miss Sparkle was writin’ secret messages into her journal.”
Rarity rolled her eyes. "Then what exactly do you think she was doing, dear?" she asked mockingly. “Staring at papers that the wind just so happened to blow there?”
“She was readin’ books,” came the innocent answer. “I know because I caught a glimpse.” Applejack’s face became even redder. “It was a love story about two mares.”
“Tsk! That’s all just useless, trite sentimentality. Who cares about these things?” Rarity waved with her hoof dismissively, before trotting back to the cupboard and serving herself another shot of champagne. “Anything else?” she asked after downing it.
“Well, it’s also not quite right that Twi— Miss Sparkle was discussin’ secret plans on how to bring down Her Majesty with squirrel-shaped Changelings.” Applejack scratched her scar. “I reckon she was merely chasin’ some actual squirrels.”
“Are you entirely sure they were actual squirrels?” Rarity’s words were slow and measured.
The question was so unexpected, that Applejack couldn’t answer for a second. “Uhm, no. How was I supposed to make sure?”
“See? See?! That is exactly what I am talking about!” Rarity snapped at her. “You have no idea, but you are still criticizing me!” She paced back and forth, her beautiful, white face darkened by inner turmoil. Finally she sharply turned back to Applejack. “Fine, if you really mind the book part, I could amend it, but the Changelings are an absolute must. What do you think, Pinkie?”
Pinkie, who until now sat in quiet contemplation, pounced next to Rarity and put a supportive hoof on her back. “Rara, please don’t take this the wrong way,” she began at a measured pace and placating tone, “I think your writing is super-duper nice and I love the idea about the squirrels. But maybe, just maybe, we could make a teensy-weensy change to the book part,” she offered carefully.
“Change?” Rarity cried, making no attempt to hide her offence as she scrunched her muzzle up and let out a small, hurt “hm”. “Fine! We’ll change it then!” she yelled dramatically. “But I’ve toiled enough. You tell me then what it should be changed to!” She stared at Pinkie expectantly.
Pinkie ran a hoof under her chin and let out a loud “Hmm”. In a flash a light-bulb appeared over her head, then popped out of existence just as quickly. “Oh, I know! Maybe this is silly, but how about this,” there was a pause for dramatic effect, “maybe the books themselves weren’t real books, but actually Changelings. Their plan was to get actual squirrels to carry them to safety.”
Rarity’s mouth fell agape, as she stared at Pinkie. A moment of silent shock later, she shed a tear. “Pinkie Pie, my good friend, there is a writer of unparalleled skill lost in you,” she said, sniffling in admiration. “Have you ever considered picking up the hobby?”
“Ahh, too little time for it.” Pinkie shrugged, smiling. “Not to mention, some of us are much better here than me anyways,” she said with an encouraging wink.
“Oh shush.” Rarity smiled back at her. “Very well, Pinkie, I’m convinced. I shall make the change.” She turned to Applejack. “Anything else?” she asked, her smile gone and voice full of gravel.
“No,” Applejack replied instinctively, before checking herself. “That is, uh, yes, there is.” She found herself fiddling with her hat. “This, um, part about sendin’ magical parchments in the guestroom… I might remember it wrong, but I saw Miss Sparkle shiverin’ from the cold, so I told her to lay in bed in my guestroom, under some thick blankets.”
“So what?” Rarity rolled her eyes. “Can’t a pony write upon parchment while under blankets?”
“Beg pardon, Miss Rarity, but I know, um, other things happened in there. You see, my big brother was under the blankets too. He an’ Miss Sparkle, well, you see…” She cleared her throat. “There wasn’t any parchment involved.”
“Ew!” Rarity turned her head away in abject disgust. “Is that really the sort of thing you want to say about your family? Pure debauchery!” she spat.
“I only told him to put a bit of life into her,” Applejack bleated.
“Tsk! Some sister you are! I will not give my name to this,” Rarity hissed. “Any other issue?” she asked with open hostility.
Before Applejack could have answered, the noise of leathery wings flapping filled the air. Pinkie Pie and Rarity looked at each other, then both jumped to attention, while Applejack slowly clambered to her hooves. A chariot pulled by two batponies and surrounded by several more of them descended from the sky. Sitting atop it was Nightmare Moon herself.
The Princess graciously stepped down from the vehicle, while her guards dispersed to secure the perimeter and give the group privacy. Pinkie and Rarity bowed, followed by Applejack herself giving an awkward bow a second later.
“Greetings, Your Majesty!”
“Stand up,” she ordered them, before turning to Rarity. “So?”
“It is ready, Your Majesty.”
“We shall be the judge of that. Let Us see it then.”
The alicorn began to read. Suddenly her starry mane flared up and her pupils contracted. She stomped the polished rock floor, which cracked slightly from the impact. “What is the meaning of this treachery?” she bellowed. “These conspirators don’t even want to banish Us back to the Moon anymore? Explain thyself!” Her eyes shot lightning towards Rarity. The Princess lowered her voice to a whisper and leaned closer to her shivering face. “Are thou perhaps insinuating that We are worth horse manure?” she whispered slowly.
Rarity somehow became even whiter than she already was. A bead of sweat rolled down her pristine brow. “No… That is not… I just… I didn’t want to repeat myself… The last trial…” She quickly took control of her growing hyperventilation. “I have not practiced enough self-critique, Your Majesty,” she said with sudden adrenaline-fueled smoothness. “How about this? ‘The perpetrators intended to banish Your Majesty immediately after toppling the Royal Court’?”
The mane snuffed out, the pupils dilated slightly. “Indeed, much better,” the Princess said with an approving nod. “Otherwise We are quite pleased with thy work. Thou art skilled with the quill.”
“I like it too!” Pinkie inserted herself into the conversation. “Many sleepless nights went into it, Your Majesty. Absolutely no clichés!” she beamed.
The Princes, however, was less than impressed. Her head turned towards Pinkie, whose smile quickly froze on her face. “Colonel Pie, We believe We have not asked for thy opinion. Thou should practice humility,” the Princess lectured her.
Pinkie deflated like a leaky balloon. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied meekly. “Absolutely, completely humble Pinkie Pie reporting.”
“Humility,” Nightmare Moon repeated wistfully, staring into the distance. “If there is one thing We appreciate in Ourselves, it is Our humility.”
It was a touching moment. For a few seconds everypony present contemplated the Princess’s wisdom and humility in commemorative silence. Suddenly the alicorn regained her senses and stared at Applejack. “And who is this serf?”
“Her name is Applejack, Your Majesty,” Pinkie explained. “She is our star witness.”
“We see. We trust that thou hath the skills necessary?” Nightmare Moon flashed a firm glance towards Pinkie. “It would be quite a displeasure to Us, if We were to be disappointed.”
Applejack felt like this was the moment she was looking for. She carefully cleared her throat and stepped in front of the Princess, taking off her hat. “Your Majesty-ness, I really am mighty sorry. But quite honestly… Well… I’m not nearly good at all this ideological mumbo-jumbo. Y’see, I’m really just a simple farmer.”
The Princess peered at her and she furrowed her brows. Her already dark face darkened by a few further shades. “Most peculiar. We are quite certain We have seen thy face before,” she said with growing suspicion.
“Your Majesty is correct!” Applejack tipped her head to the side. “You’ve had me locked in prison after the misunderstandin’ at the Spa and then again at the Fun-park.” She tipped her head to the other side, as she continued to babble. “Then ya gave me an award durin’ the Tomato harvest. It’s quite something how often we run into each other!” She paused, realising whose time she was taking up and her hooves clamped down on her hat for support. “Beg pardon, I’m wastin’ your valuable time. What I really meant to say is that I feel mighty rotten about this whole thing… I never wanted to be a witness.”
“Thou didst not?” The Princess looked absolutely baffled. “Why art thou here then?”
“I’m not quite sure either, Miss Majesty.” Applejack placed her hat back on her head and reached back with one hoof, scratching her ever-itching scar. “I should be at my orchard, tendin’ to my trees. They’re quite sick.”
The Princess turned sharply towards Pinkie.
“Colonel Pie, thy invitation to Our ire will not remain unanswered.” Despite the lowness of her voice, it was completely overwhelming. Even though she wasn’t the pony addressed, Applejack suddenly felt like it was hard to stand on her hooves as a gale of cold wind and starfire tried to knock her off balance. The sky itself darkened as the Princess’s body seemingly began to grow. “We demanded a completely willing witness from thee, didst We not? The trial will not proceed like this!” she snapped, baring her fangs.
Both Pinkie and Rarity wilted under her looks. The two mares collapsed on the ground and hid their faces behind their hooves.
“Incompetents,” The Princess scoffed, as she beheld their pitiful groveling. Her aura of terror dispersed and she turned away, before speaking without looking back. “Consider thyself lucky We feel merciful today.”
“S-should I just throw all of this away?” Rarity sniffed, struggling with tears, as she stared at her manuscript.
“We are least interested in the matter,” the Princess replied coldly. “Do not contact Us until thou has procured Us a real witness. Now We shall take Our leave.” She stepped back on the chariot, which quickly took off along with the rest of her retinue, leaving three destitute mares.
Pinkie collapsed on the floor rigidly. Her long mane fell on her, completely obscuring her face. Rarity’s tears pitter-pattered freely against the ground. “Should I just throw all of this away?” she repeated her question, this time asking the floor tiles between two sobs.
A few seconds later Pinkie Pie stood up with mechanical slowness. She trotted over to Rarity and gave her a long, weak hug, face still hidden. “Well, I guess this is it. See you around, Rara,” she croaked, after heaving a sigh and a tattered little laugh.
Rarity stared back at her with abject horror in her still tear-filled eyes. “P-Pinkie, darling, y-you can’t be serious! Are you leaving us?”
No words came from her, just a weak nod, along with a broken smile under her ocean of mane and a defeated shrug. Pinkie began to slowly make her way towards her carriage.
Applejack jumped up like she’d awoke from a daze. As she ran after Pinkie, she glanced towards Rarity, who paid her no heed as she was too busy crying over her manuscript. “Wait for me, Miss Pie! Don’t leave me here!” Applejack yelled as she ran after her, jumping into the carriage.
“To the rock farm,” Pinkie gave the order from behind her mane to the ponies pulling the vehicle. Applejack meanwhile tried her best to come up with a good apology.
“Miss Pie, really I’m very-very sorry! I honestly didn’t want anythin’ bad to happen.”
Pinkie let out a sad, indifferent “hm”, so Applejack continued her attempts. “I didn’t want you to get admonished by Her Majesty. I really had no idea this was such a big deal! I just simply don’t want to get Twi in any more trouble!”
But Pinkie didn’t show any sign of listening, nor caring if she did. She pulled out a small parchment, which, to Applejack’s horror, appeared to be her last will and testament, and began to read it.