Applejack Anonymous

by Clavier


7: Magic

Applejack Anonymous

a My Little Pony fanfiction by Clavier

Chapter 7

Magic


“Good morning, Applejack!”

“Mornin’, Roseluck.”

It was an unusual Tuesday, if only because the population of Ponyville was actually in and around Ponyville, not hidden away. Applejack had come into town seeking her marefriend—a term she had eventually settled on—for lunch together, allowing herself to forget about the significance of the day. She hadn’t found Twilight, but she had found many other mares, to her surprise.

“Hi, Applejack!”

“Howdy, Lyra. Where’s Bonnie? Ah thought you two were closer than a turtle and a shell!”

Just as she said this, a greenish figure floated by overhead, followed shortly by a recognizable rainbow streak. “Tortoise!”

After both had shared a moment of bewilderment, Lyra frowned. “I think you can guess where she is.”

Applejack stopped, reading Lyra’s expression. Lyra’s eyes darted away from Applejack. Her lips creased into a forced smile, but she was clearly incensed. Applejack had never considered herself close to Lyra, particularly after being snubbed at the mare’s wedding, but she counted everypony in Ponyville as a friend.

And besides, she didn’t have anypony else to have lunch with.

“Lyra… got lunch plans?”

Blinking in surprise, she shook her head and followed Applejack. She followed silently, keeping pace with uneasy rhythm. Applejack was acutely aware of the awkwardness of it, but had already decided that clearing the air was more important than being comfortable doing so. They found a free table outside a small corner restaurant they were both familiar with, and sat down.

Applejack found that she had dozens of questions she wanted to ask, but only one was really pertinent. Even after weeks of time, a series of events she was still reeling from, and the most significant change to her romantic life she’d ever experienced, there was only one thing she really wanted to know from this particular unicorn, and there was only one way she could think to ask it: directly.

“Lyra, why didn’t you invite me to your wedding?”

Lyra’s menu shot onto the table, hiding her face before Applejack had a chance to judge her reaction. “Well, err,” she stuttered, muffled, “I didn’t really mean to insult you or anything…”

Applejack remained unconvinced, but could only stare blankly at the fanciful logo of La Maison sur le Coin on the front of their menu.

“I just thought, maybe, it might be better…”

They were interrupted by the rather gruff overtones of a waiter, whose brusque voice was at odds with his bright turquoise coat and neat blue mane. “May I take your order?”

Visibly relieved by the interruption, Lyra mumbled her order, a cucumber salad with mint dressing. Applejack watched Lyra thoughtfully while ordering a pumpkin and tomato sandwich. The stallion took Applejack’s menu, and motioned for Lyra to do the same.

It remained firmly where it stood.

Undeterred, the waiter put a hoof atop the menu, trying to get Lyra’s attention.

The menu stood a proud guardian.

Finally, he snatched the menu in his mouth with a motion too quick to prevent and trotted off.

In her life, and particularly in the recent few weeks, Applejack had seen a lot of mares embarrassed, and had embarrassed a lot of mares. She’d seen faces redder than she knew they could be, and felt the heat rise to her own cheeks on more than one occasion. But if it were a contest, she would now have found the clear victor.

“It was stupid,” she blubbered, “and it was selfish, and I wasn’t thinking straight, and I, and–”

She stopped short when Applejack’s hoof rested on her own. It was intended as a calming motion, but clearly had the opposite effect, as Lyra stared at the offending appendage like it was a dangerous animal poised to strike.

“And?” Applejack inquired after a moment.

Her companion deflated, resting her chin against the table and staring at the unlit candle in the center, still red with embarrassment but doing nothing to hide it. “Almost all the guests were from… well, let’s just say I sent out the invitations on Tuesday. It was like a reunion. So I was afraid that if she saw you there, she’d remember what I really was.”

Applejack furrowed her brow and lowered her head somewhat, trying to meet Lyra’s gaze. “What you really are?”

“The consolation prize.”

Applejack pulled away, stunned. “You… ya can’t really believe that?!”

“Of course I can.” Lyra pulled her hooves away and lifted herself back up, but only to a slumped position in her seat. “I met her at the club, you know.”

“Y’mean… the ‘me’ club.”

“Yeah.”

Applejack unconsciously leaned away.

“Heh, exactly. I… I know you would never intentionally do anything to hurt anypony, but… well, I’m not you. I can’t replace you.”

They were silent for a moment. Lyra twisted a bit of tablecloth between her hooves, tying it into small knots and untying them again. Applejack stared on hopelessly, struggling to move the conversation forward without hurting Lyra more or drawing out information she frankly didn’t want to know.

Still staring at her hooves as she nervously shuffled them about, Lyra soon continued without prompting. “A few months after I moved to Ponyville and met you, I asked Rarity if she thought I had a shot with you, and, well…” She chuckled sourly. “Obviously I didn’t. As soon as I joined the club, I pretty much put that thought out of my mind. Which was good, because that’s where I met Bon Bon.”

Lyra went back to examining the fabric between her hooves, so Applejack spoke up. “So you’re not really… Ah mean, you ain’t in lo–”

“No, not any more.” The unicorn looked up. She was still a bit flush, but much less so. “Not much, anyway. But Bonnie…”

“But Bonnie?”

“She really loves you, you know.”

Just as she said that, the waiter arrived with their meals, leaving the conversation in an uncomfortable spot while he placed the plates.

“Is there anything else you’d like?”

“No, thank you.”

“We do have fresh-squeezed raspberry juice, if–”

“Water will be fine.”

“As you wish.”

Both watched him trot back into the restaurant, and Applejack shook her head. “Until Ah found out about this group, Ah figured Bonnie hated me. Heck, Ah figured it was her that kept me out of the wedding. We never talk anymore.”

Lyra poked her salad with a fork, twisting it around without lifting any of it to her mouth. “No. She could never stop loving you…”

“Oh.” Applejack frowned. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t find words, and closed it again. She reached out a hoof, but seeing Lyra eye it, immediately pulled it back.

“It’s not your fault, and I know what I am. I’m her second place ribbon.” Lyra sighed wistfully. “But it’s no excuse for me to be jealous. She wanted you to come to the wedding; I talked her out of it. Said it would be awkward.”

They both stared at each other for a moment, then Applejack put on a wide smile. “Y’know what, let’s clear the air.” She put out her hoof. “Ah want us to be friends, and Ah want Bonnie as a friend again too.”

Slowly, Lyra accepted her hoof, and they shook on it.

“You’re a wonderful pony, Lyra, and Bon Bon’s mighty lucky to have you. You ain’t some consolation prize, and you sure as hay ain’t some second place ribbon. And Ah know Bonnie well enough to know she doesn’t think of you that way. Ah see the way she looks at you. She only looked at me like that once, a long time ago.”

Lyra smiled reservedly, but genuinely. “Thanks, AJ. And tell you what, you can snub me for your wedding.”

They laughed, and the dark cloud that seemed to have been hanging over the table lifted. “But Ah do have one question…”

“Yeah?”

“Ya said it was like a reunion, but what about Rainbow? And Twilight, and Pinkie, and… well, my brother?”

Lyra pursed her lips contemplatively. “Rainbow wasn’t there… Twilight had already joined, unofficially. I think Bon Bon invited Big Macintosh as some weird joke.”

“Joke? Ah don’t get it.”

“I don’t get most of her jokes either,” Lyra chuckled. “And Pinkie… jeez, I’m not sure if we actually asked her to plan it…”

“Huh?”

“We were just starting to plan it, and then she was sort of… there.”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s Pinkie all right.”

They laughed, and, Applejack’s query satisfied, dug into their respective meals.

After a few minutes and a substantial portion of food, Lyra resumed the conversation on a more pleasant topic.

“So, how’re things going with Twilight?”

Applejack dropped her fork and scratched the back of her neck nervously. “OK, Ah suppose.”

“Um… you suppose?”

“Well,” Applejack breathed heavily, “tell me, Lyra, you’re a unicorn, right?”

She chuckled at the obvious observation. “Last I checked.”

“How good are you at magic?”

Lyra shrugged. “I can do what I need to do.”

“Do you use magic in day-to-day life?”

“Not much. Why, does Twilight?” Her expression changed, a lurid smirk revealing lurid conclusions. “Things getting a bit too hot to handle?”

Applejack pulled the brim of her hat over her face, shaking her head. “Ah thought Bon Bon was the one that made the off-color jokes.”

“So that’s it, is it?” Lyra’s cocky smirk widened into a smile. “I didn’t know she had it in her—seems like the reserved type to me—but y’know what they say about the smart ones!”

“It ain’t that, Lyra.”

“Boy, with her magic power,” she said, eyes wandering, “she could do… all sorts of things…”

“It ain’t that!” Under her breath, Applejack finished the sentence, “… exactly.”

Lyra pouted. “You sure?”

“Sure Ah’m sure! Wouldja just answer the question?”

“Um,” she smiled sheepishly, “what was the question again?”

“Do you use magic every day? In normal, day-to-day stuff?”

She scratched her head thoughtfully. “Well, I use it for playing my music, and I do that every day.”

“But not for normal stuff?”

“Nope. I don’t even use levitation much.”

“And not for… anything with Bon Bon?”

Lyra’s coy smile returned.

“Never mind. Point is, Twi’s got some weird hangup about magic. Not really sure what to do about it. Other than that everything’s peachy.”

Lyra finished her salad, sat down her fork, then lifted it in a green aura and pointed it at Applejack. “You know what I think you should do?”

“What’s that?”

The fork dropped. “Ask somepony else.”

They laughed together as Applejack finished her meal, paid their tabs and parted ways with a smile. Of course, Applejack was still no closer to Twilight, literally or metaphorically, but she was sated.

After a few moments of aimless wandering, she decided that there was really only one “somepony else” worth asking. When it came to unicorns that weren’t Twilight Sparkle, Ponyville had few options, but luckily one of those options was a close friend.

On the way to the Carousel Boutique, she was glad to see the streets looking almost as bustling as they usually did, and ponies greeting her as a friend. By the time she reached Rarity’s door, her mood was downright chipper.

She reached to knock, but the door opened before her hoof reached it. Rarity took a step out and found herself nose-to-hoof with Applejack. She crossed her eyes and gasped. “D–d–dirt!”

Applejack pulled her hoof away and examined it. Her morning chores had, of course, left a bit of mud on her hooves. She looked up, and sure enough, there was a horseshoe-shaped mud mustache across Rarity’s otherwise perfectly groomed snout.

Rarity shrieked and slammed the door, leaving her guest to listen to her frantic hoofsteps up the stairs inside, followed by another shrill cry.

“Maybe Ah should talk to somepony else…”

She took a step back, intending to leave the unicorn well enough alone, but the door swung open once more, this time revealing Rarity with a wide, inviting smile and no hint of the encounter mere seconds before.

“Applejack! It’s such a pleasure to see you, what brings you by the Carousel Boutique?”

“Uh, just wanted to talk… Ah guess you’re busy, so Ah’ll–”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Rarity uncomfortably shoved Applejack into her boutique. “It’s always a pleasure to chat with a good friend. Would you like some tea?”

Applejack narrowed her eyes, unsure of her friend’s motives.

“Oh… OK, no tea then, so what is it you wanted to talk about?”

She sighed loudly and visibly, but went on nonetheless. “Rarity, Ah know you use magic when you’re working on dresses and such,” she waved a hoof over some of the visible wares, but stopped mid-sentence when she saw one dress in particular.

There was something odd about a wedding dress with spurs. Something very odd.

It was quickly covered by a screen, unfolding gracefully with a tug by Rarity’s blue magic. “Just something I’m working on for a friend,” she explained hastily. “Now what was this about magic?”

Applejack rolled her eyes and turned back. “So, you use magic in day-to-day life, yeah?”

“Of course,” she answered simply, “and why not? ‘If you’ve got it’, as they say. Not, of course, that there’s anything wrong with not, erm, ‘having it’.”

“This ain’t a jealousy thing, Rarity, just a question. It’s just… well, Twilight’s got sort of a hangup about magic, and Ah guess Ah need a unicorn’s opinion.”

“I see.” Rarity led them into a smaller, cozier room and sat down, indicating for Applejack to do the same. The plush environment wasn’t exactly to the farm-raised earth pony’s liking; purple velvet had little value in her vocation. Still, she sat down, lifting each hoof carefully to avoid any more embarrassing mud incidents.

“I don’t know if I can help, but I’m more than happy to try. So what’s wrong?”

Applejack crossed her hooves and thought. “Well… lemme start from the beginnin’.”

“Makes sense to me,” Rarity chuckled.

“You bear the Element of Generosity.”

She blushed slightly, but nodded.

“And Ah’m Honesty and Dash is Loyalty and so on, and Twilight is Magic.”

“Yes, yes.”

“And do you know how she feels about that?”

“I suppose not,” she shrugged.

“Somethin’ awful. Says everypony else’s is something personal, something special, and she’s just… Ah don’t know, doin’ tricks or something.”

Rarity nodded along, looking more and more concerned with every word.

“Ah just want her to realize how great she is, magic or no.”

Rarity hummed, tapping her chin and generally making a show of her thought process. “Twilight is certainly… humble, regarding her prowess in the magical arts.”

“Ah’m not sure if that’s the problem, exactly.”

“Ah—er, I—think that it is.”

A teakettle in the next room whistled, and Rarity politely excused herself, leaving Applejack to her thoughts.

She didn’t allow her thoughts to drift far. There was something profoundly uncomfortable to her about being in such a plush, cushy environment. Whatever anypony might say about Twilight, she was pretty down-to-earth for a unicorn, scoffing as readily as Applejack at the extravagant Canterlot lifestyle that Rarity held in such high regard.

And perhaps, Applejack thought, that’s part of the problem.

Rarity returned, interrupting Applejack’s thoughts, and poured a cup of tea for herself. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like some tea?”

Applejack waved off the offered cup. Rarity shrugged at this and sat down, taking a sip from her own.

“Now, let me tell you something about magic.”

She removed the teacup from between her hooves, effortlessly transferring it into the grasp of her blue magical aura.

“Magic—unicorn magic, that is—isn’t like the brutish application of physical force. It’s delicate. It’s careful.” She looked up at Applejack over the steam rising from her tea. “It’s methodical.”

Applejack huffed at the implication, but Rarity merely smiled coyly and continued.

“And more importantly, it’s not just a skill, it’s a sense. A sense that some unicorns, like Twilight, are more in touch with than others, such as myself.”

The aura holding her teacup began to brighten and grow until it was connected to her horn by a bridge of sparkling blue magic. The cup rattled, throwing out small droplets of tea in every direction. Rarity began breathing heavily, closing her eyes as she continued forcing out words.

“Every unicorn learns to understand and harness this sense to some degree.” The light receded, leaving the teacup floating calmly. “Not everypony learns to show it, of course.”

The teacup lowered back to her awaiting hoof, then raised back to her mouth, and she took another sip, smiling proudly.

In spite of her clear pride in her show of talent, Rarity was also blushing and averting her gaze. Applejack decided not to press the issue. “So, what’re you tryin’ to tell me about Twilight?”

“Twilight Sparkle is the prized pupil of Celestia herself, probably the most powerful unicorn alive. If you don’t really understand her magic, then you don’t really understand her.”

“But she–”

“Trust me, Applejack.”

“But–!”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Rarity chided, “just trust me. What your relationship needs is more magic, not less.”

Applejack slumped in her chair, befuddled. “So just what’re you suggesting?”

“Encourage her, darling! Show her you don’t want her to hold back her magic for you.”

Her horn glowed. “Show her you want to really know her power!”

Applejack began to panic as she was lifted from her seat, enveloped by Rarity’s inescapable magical grasp. “Show her you aren’t afraid!”

She kicked helplessly as she was dragged closer to Rarity, who sat up with wide, feral eyes. “Show her that you want to know her magic, inside and ou–!”

The grip released in an instant, and she fell rather fumblingly to the ground. Rarity looked down, apologetically. “Um… what I’m trying to say is, show her that you’ll love her no matter what, not because of her magic, or in spite of her magic, but simply with her magic.

“Her magic is a part of her, and if you’re going to be with her, that means it’s a part of you too.”

Backing away, Applejack doffed her hat and scratched her head. “Ah have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, and Ah don’t intend to stick around and find out.” She’d already slid entirely out of the room before Rarity had a chance to retort, and was soon out of the boutique entirely. She galloped on, raising a cloud of dust behind her, in a trail towards Sweet Apple Acres. She’d put a fair distance behind her before she slowed down to think again.

Ponyville may seem better, but Ah can’t forget that it’s still got more nuts than a squirrel in the winter.

She slowed to a more reasonable trot, putting on a smile and greeting all her friends on the way. Reaching the rows of trees was, as was often the case, an enormous relief.

An even bigger relief came from what she spotted as she passed the farmhouse itself. Fluttershy and Big Macintosh appeared to be several hours into their “just lunch and a chat”, a new habit which they probably hadn’t even admitted to themselves was a date. As far as Applejack was concerned, any bit of affection redirected from her onto her big brother was a good thing. Not wanting to interrupt their fun, she turned towards her trees, but soon found that she wasn’t the only one keeping tabs on her brother’s affairs.

“Rainbow, how long have you been up there snoopin’?”

“I’m not snooping! I’m, uh…” Rainbow’s eyes darted back and forth frantically. “Training?”

“Ah suppose you do most of your training while sitting in my tree, staring through my window?” Applejack asked, chuckling.

“OK, OK, I’m snooping! The club was just so boring today!”

Applejack scowled. The club was the last thing she wanted to hear about.

“So I left there after lunch and came here, and then I had to suffer that love-fest!” She pointed dramatically at the farmhouse. “Is your whole family that lovey-dovey shmoopy-doo kissy-kissy, or is your brother just a big softie?”

After a brief thought, Applejack smiled, looking at the window. Both of the ponies inside were looking very intently away from each other, stealing occasional glances when the other wasn’t. “Ah donno, Ah think they’re cute.”

Rainbow stuck out her tongue. “Ugh, gag me!”

Rolling her eyes, Applejack just trotted past her unromantic friend and towards her trees.

Applebucking was a good task; it was sufficiently laborious to take Applejack’s mind off of things, but fun enough to do all day, if need be. It was not, however, a good job to do while trying to hold a conversation.

“Need any help?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You offerin’?”

“Well, no,” Rainbow backpedaled. “I’m just making conversation. I’m bored!”

“Ain’t my job,” she wheezed, preparing another kick, “to keep you excited.”

Rainbow flew in small circles around the trees Applejack was bucking, every now and again batting a few into the baskets below. Even when she wanted to be unhelpful, she was still a good friend. “Guess I could go back to the club… I’ll bet they’ve got Twilight telling ’em everything by now.”

Applejack stopped short, letting her hooves fall to the ground mid-kick. “Tell ’em… what, exactly?”

“All morning they were just asking her about you, on and on and on, and she never told them anything juicy. Booooo-ring!”

She turned around, studying Rainbow’s expression. If she was just teasing, Applejack couldn’t tell; she was being smug, but her tone was honest.

“But I bet they’ll get to her eventually,” she continued, grinning devilishly. “Everypony’s got a breaking point.”

“Uh, nice chattin’ with you, Dash,” Applejack sputtered, “but Ah gotta run, see ya!”

Although she still wasn’t certain of Rainbow’s honesty, she nonetheless felt that it was in her best interest to investigate, and so for the second time that day, she set forth for Ponyville. She did so with a bit more urgency in her step, and less forced innocence clouding her thoughts.

And with a much wider berth around the Carousel Boutique.

It was true, of course, that everypony has a breaking point. For some, it might be a hair out of place; for others, Applejack feared, the pestering of too many ponies who had no respect for privacy. For Applejack, as it turned out, it was galloping full tilt from Ponyville to Sweet Apple Acres, bucking apple trees for ten minutes, then galloping full tilt back. She reached the campus of the West Ponyville Institute of Geology and Mining, but before she could make it to the building where the meeting was held, she collapsed in a park, panting, winded and dizzy.

“Y’know what,” she told nopony, “maybe Twilight’ll be just fine.”

She listened to her heart beat against the cool grass, and tried not to let her mind wander too much further than that.

Tried.

“Aww, come on, we won’t tell anypony else!”

“We have other things on the schedule, Bon Bon,” Twilight curtly replied, “we aren’t going to talk about this.”

“But you’ve zapped her away twice! Twice! That’s not fair, didn’t your mother ever teach you to share?”

“Very funny.”

“Just tell us if you did it at your place or hers!”

Where is none of your business, Bon Bon.”

“Aha, you don’t deny it then! Ooh, first date, I didn’t know you had it in you…”

Twilight blushed furiously, stammering, “N–no–I–we–“

Applejack woke from her brief and disturbed nap with a start. She had another start when she turned her head to find Pinkie, beaming down with her usual cheeky grin while chewing the last bite of some unidentifiable pastry.

“Hiya, Applejack!”

“Pinkie… were you watching me?”

“Yup!”

Applejack groaned and pulled herself to her hooves, shaking the dream from her mind. “Don’t you think that’s a bit weird?”

Ignoring the question, Pinkie looked back and forth conspiratorially before leaning in close. “My Pinkie Sense told me you were in trouble, so I came to find you.”

“Well, Ah’m not. Thanks anyway.” She began to trot away.

“But it’s never wrong!”

“Sorry, Ah guess it is.”

“Wait!” Pinkie hopped into Applejack’s path. “It’s dangerous to go alone!” she exclaimed, rummaging in a saddlebag which Applejack would have sworn she wasn’t wearing even a second earlier. “Take this!”

With her typical exuberant smile, Pinkie held forth her offering of aid: a blueberry muffin.

“Um… thanks?” Not wanting to find out what would happen if she refused the gift, Applejack reluctantly accepted it, putting it under her hat.

Pinkie Pie skipped away, joining a group of mares departing the Institute. Seeing as how the meeting was clearly ending, Applejack decided to meet Twilight at the library instead of the Institute, and began walking stiffly in that direction.

“Good afternoon, Applejack!”

“Why, what did you hear?!”

“… What?”

“Nothin’, never mind, good morning.”

The mare looked at the sky. “But it’s past five PM…”

“Good afternoon, good night, goodbye!” She quickened her pace, straining her already tired muscles and leaving the confused mare behind.

Applejack was winded again by the time she reached the library, so she barged in unannounced. Twilight was standing in the middle of the room, supervising as books swirled overhead, meticulously arranging themselves at her whim. It’s incredible, Applejack thought. Like she hardly even has to think about it. All of Applejack’s fears that this pony could possibly be unnecessarily forthcoming, or in any other way unorganized, vanished from her mind as she watched the spectacle.

Shortly, Twilight caught sight of Applejack, and the books fell in great piles as they greeted each other with a warm hug.

“Wow, Twi, you really are incredible!”

“Oh, no,” she murmured, blushing, “that was nothing.”

Rarity’s words drifted back to Applejack’s mind. “Her magic is a part of her, and if you’re going to be with her, that means it’s a part of you too.”

“If that was nothing, then show me something.”

Twilight cocked an eyebrow, confused.

Woken by the commotion, Spike plodded in, bleary-eyed and clearly having been napping. “Show her number 34,” he suggested.

Almost instinctively, Twilight pulled a few bits from a drawer and handed them to the little dragon. “Why don’t you go get some ice cream, Spike.”

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he was gone before he could give the sudden boon any further thought.

“You say you’re always holdin’ back your magic. So don’t!” Applejack stood firmly, trying to make her stance firm but nonthreatening. “Ah want to see everything.”

“Are… you sure?”

She nodded confidently.

“Well,” Twilight began, increasing in enthusiasm with every word, “there’s this one spell I’ve always wanted to try, but it’s kind of… personal.”

Applejack just smiled in affirmation.

“OK… OK!” Twilight was quite excited now. “Just sit right there, this is kind of tricky.”

Twilight took a deep breath, then stared straight into Applejack’s eyes, breathing steadily. Her horn glowed, and with each breath, became brighter. She closed her eyes, and the glow spread to her entire body, still growing stronger. The light in the room dimmed, leaving her glowing figure as the only light illuminating the shelves of books.

She opened her eyes once more, and lapping tendrils of light shot forth from her, at first randomly, but quickly concentrating on Applejack. Applejack tried to hide her anxiety at this, allowing them to surround her.

Very soon she was completely enclosed in their glow, and they began to contract. They were warm, and soothed her still-aching muscles with their passing. But soon after they’d moved past her legs, she realized that they weren’t actually soothing her muscles at all; she couldn’t feel her extremities. She was now fully panicking, but with no escape, could only watch helplessly as she lost all feeling in the rest of her body. When the glow finally contracted around her head, everything went black, and everything went silent.

She couldn’t feel anything, not even gravity. She was floating, disembodied and without senses.

Then a new sense appeared. She couldn’t tell how, but she knew that Twilight was by her. She struggled to move closer, sure that the unicorn was more accustomed to this place, but had no muscles to move and no ground to move across. Nonetheless, she felt Twilight come closer.

Momentarily, she was wrapped in a new warmth. She could feel Twilight’s mind, or her soul, or some unexplainable notion of her, and could see her feelings and her thoughts with a new and alien kind of vision.

They were carefully organized, even categorized, to Applejack’s amusement. Her responsibilities were neatly packed together, and the incredible well of magical knowledge, which Applejack couldn’t even hope to disentangle, was wrapped up with them. Then there was a warm spot of helpfulness, compassion and sympathy. Beside that was her friendships. A bit of Rainbow Dash, a bit of Pinkie Pie, and Rarity and Fluttershy, fleeting thoughts of the Cakes’ foals and memories of Lyra and Bon Bon’s wedding.

And then there was a mirror of sorts: Twilight’s love for Applejack, completely bare and plain. It was warm, and it was earnest. It was just as much erotic as it was romantic, but was presented so honestly that it wasn’t lewd, just forthright.

It all started to fade away. Applejack tried to twist away, not wanting to leave this new experience she’d only just known, but was powerless to keep herself there. She felt like she was falling for a moment, then her eyes sprung open, and she was perfectly fine, back in the library, feeling very awake and refreshed.

Twilight was in front of her, still mid-spell. Her horn was glowing so brightly that its heat was visible in the air, and she floated several inches above the ground, her eyes burning white. Her magical force was whipping up the air in the room, knocking papers from desks and quills from stands.

“Twilight?”

She didn’t respond.

“Twi?!”

Nothing.

“Twi! Hello?!” Frantic, Applejack waved her hooves in front of the unicorn’s face, but garnered no reaction.

The howling winds toppled a bookcase, whipping up a whirlwind of torn pages. Applejack snapped into action, desperately pushing through the maelstrom to find some way to break the spell, but found nothing that could help her.

As Twilight floated higher, the wind intensified, engulfing the library in a tornado of glowing debris. Applejack’s hat flew off, joining the swirling mass. As it tumbled through the air, Applejack glimpsed something within its creases.

Pinkie’s premonition was right: She was in trouble. And Pinkie was right in another way too. With a jump backed by hind legs conditioned through years of applebucking, Applejack punched a hole in the storm, snatching the hat out of the air. Twisting in midair, Applejack drove her forelegs forward and impaled the blueberry muffin on Twilight's horn.

The magical gusts stopped almost immediately, and Twilight drifted back to the ground with a distant look in her eyes. She blinked a few times, her face slowly reddening as she inspected the mess of books and debris littering every surface. “I guess I got a bit carried away…”

Applejack wrapped her hooves around her marefriend’s neck and gave her a quick, firm kiss. “You’re amazing, Twilight.”

“Oh, no, that was really nothing sp–”

Applejack put a hoof to Twilight’s lips, silencing her. “Not the magic. You.”

Twilight grinned, red in the cheeks, and accepted Applejack’s embrace. For a long moment, they simply held each other, feeling each other’s heartbeat and breathing. They remained silent until Applejack felt Twilight’s lips against her ear. “Applejack?”

“Yeah?”

“Is there something on my head?”