//------------------------------// // The Best and the Worst // Story: The Rustic and The Romantic // by TheLastBrunnenG //------------------------------// The snow-furred unicorn tossed and turned on a bed far plainer than her own, falling strands of violet mane failing to hide her red-streaked and puffy eyes. Sleepless and restless, she surveyed her surroundings. The room in which she found herself was utilitarian in all respects, its furnishings and décor almost spartan. Fading whitewash peeled from cracking plaster while simple, hospital-white sheets adorned an aging but firm mattress. A hoof-made wooden bedframe complemented a simple nightstand and a rickety-looking but surprisingly sturdy desk. Rarity sighed, rubbing her eyes as she sat up slowly. A glance at the darkness visible behind the single window’s plain linen curtain told her she’d missed the Apple family’s likely superb dinner. Her ears perked up at the sound of familiar hoofsteps coming up the stairs. “Applejack?” she called, and the door creaked open in answer. An earth pony entered, dust and grime darkening her orange coat. “Hey, Rares. Sorry ya missed dinner, Ah thought you’d enjoy yer rest. Granny Smith saved a plate if’n yer hungry.” She stretched four taut-muscled legs and turned her head sharply, pops and cracks echoing off the walls. “Ah’m sorry Ah couldn’t get back earlier. With the goin’s on this afternoon, Ah just got behind, an’, well…” “Say no more, Applejack, and please, no more apologies. Thank you again for putting me up for the night. I was a fool for thinking I could complete eighteen dresses in seven days, but my professional pride got the better of me. And what do I have to show for it?” The alabaster unicorn fell back on the bed, a hoof across her forehead as she continued, “Seventeen dresses finished, the order incomplete, and my magic has abandoned me! What did Twilight call it? Over-exertion based magical depletion?” “Givin’a ya the guest room weren’t no problem, sugarcube. Ah ain’t seen ya that upset in ages an’ Ah couldn’t stomach leavin’ ya alone in yer condition.” Applejack chuckled as she shook dust off her weatherworn hat. “Now go ahead, sweetheart, Ah know you wanna say it.” Rarity bolted upright, indignation plain on her face. “What, now you laugh at my distress? Without my magic I can barely brush my own luxurious mane! If ever a situation was so dreadful as to be described as the worst possible thing, certainly this is it!” She crossed her forelegs and pointed her muzzle to the ceiling. After holding the pose for long seconds, she put her head in her hooves and fell back on her haunches. “You’re right, my dear Applejack. I feel quite lost. I sank everything into filling this order, and now it’s due and I can’t even begin to complete it. I won’t get paid for less than perfection and I can’t sell custom pieces to recoup my losses.” The farm pony extended a hoof to her diamond-flanked companion, a gentle smile gracing her tired face. “Take a walk with me, Rare. Ah got a couple things Ah need to show you.” Confusion creased the unicorn’s brow as she accepted the offered hoof and rose from her bed. Downstairs she found all rooms of the Apple family’s house deserted, though the warm tartness of half a dozen cooked apple scents still wafted though the air. Applejack led her to the kitchen and motioned for her to wait as she rounded a corner down a narrow hallway. “Well, here ya go, sugar. Ah hope y’all ain’t gonna hate me fer this.” The earth mare reached into a closet and pulled out a sparkling dress, gemstones and thread-of-gold trim gleaming in the dim, flickering lantern-light. She hung her head and muttered to her hooves, “Please don’t be mad at me, Rares. Ah hope y’all like it. Ah.. Ah couldn’t think o’ what else to do.” Rarity gasped, eyes wide and her hooves trembling. “Applejack, that – that’s my design for the final dress! Where did you get this? How did you manage this? “Ah didn’t. Ah knew what this order meant to ya, an’ Ah remembered what ya said about Fluttershy havin’ some kinda freaky sewin’ skills, so I asked her if she could finish it while Ah let ya get yer rest. She took yer designs an’ drawin’s an’, well… here it is. You sure ain’t sore with me?” It took Rarity only seconds to examine every stitch, every thread, and every jewel. “It’s perfect, AJ! Thank you!” She threw her arms around the flustered orange mare, burying her muzzle in a sweat-soaked and dust-laden blonde mane. “I don’t deserve you, you wonderful filly!” Extracting herself from the hug, the elder Apple sister replaced the dress in the closet and blushed enough to show even in the low firelight. “Shucks, Rarity, Ah just gave ya what ya deserved. Now, follow me outside. Ah know Twi said it’d be a few days afore yer magic came back, so I got a little present for ya.” The two mares walked side by side across the farmyard to the largest of Sweet Apple Acres’ several barns, dim light shining behind its weathered shutters. Inside the earth pony walked over to a large, tarp-covered object situated in the middle of the barn’s freshly-swept floor. She glanced back at Rarity, grinning, and yanked the tarp aside. “Now do ya wanna say it, sweetheart?” Rarity suppressed her tears but couldn’t hide a growing smile. Underneath the tarp was a one-ended sofa, its patched fabric long out of fashion but its hardwood frame shining and richly polished. “A fainting couch? Oh, Applejack, you are a true romantic!” Blushing more deeply, Applejack scratched a hoof at stray piece of hay on the floor. “Tweren’t nothin’. Granny Smith kept this old settee in the guest room for years. Mac an’ Applebloom helped me fix it up an’ get it converted to a faintin’ couch. Ah was gonna save it fer Hearts an' Hooves Day, but Ah thought you could use it right about now.” “Oh, I can use it, certainly, but not alone. Applejack Apple,” smiled Rarity, planting a kiss on the mare’s red-blushing orange cheek, “you, my love, are indeed the best thing ever.”