Awards of the Heart: At the Corner of Forever – by Twifight Sparkill
Applejack breathed a ragged sigh, marching purposefully along the last few city blocks of Bridleburgh's densely occupied thoroughfare towards the train station with her newly mended apple cart in quick tow.
"Finally," she muttered quietly to herself. "Ah am so done."
It had been a feckless and arduous trip to find the necessary parts for her badly broken wagon, only requiring a few bolts and plates to repair in the end, but it had cost far too much time and bits for her liking. Having the custom fittings she'd needed manufacturing and installed by a local smith found nestled on the outskirts of the bustling steelworks town – located after an intensively aggravating search for having been given countless misdirections which led her from one side of the twisting borough to the other – it was time to head home and deal with the unpleasant task of preparing the barrow for work. Realigning struts and wheels, adjusting the harness array, making all the mandatory alterations needed to sustain the rigors of daily abuse.
It could've been far worse all things considered, but the exhaustive affair had been a decided pain in the flank.
For all the things that could go wrong, it ever seemed the timing of these random unfortunate circumstances couldn't be more frustrating. Year after year, crop after crop, the last thing the Apple family needed to go wrong would ultimately go wrong as if by some accursed clockwork. That alone made the matter all the more defeating, as they'd prepare ad infinitum just to watch something completely unexpected go awry. It just figured that their latest and most expensive purchase, the pride of last year's harvest, would undoubtedly fail the moment Applejack dared to tack it up for this season's crop. It had cost her four days of travel, incessant waiting, and fretting something awful in sum, overlooking the hundreds of bits necessary.
If her barest estimation was at all accurate, she'd likely be back to minding the orchard in just enough time to finish the harvest – if she worked from daybreak to dusk for a week straight, that is. She didn't dare to wonder what else could possibly go wrong – that'd just be asking for trouble, and fates preserve her if another problem reared its gruesome head. Never test the fates.
Turning off from the terribly crowded main street, Applejack spied the depot's clock tower off in the distance. She could see the terminal's entrance now, swamped with crowds of bustling passengers lugging trunks and other travel essentials in a maddening midday cacophony. It'd be no easy feat to find her way through that deluge of bodies, bother it all. Almost done, though. Almost homeward bound. Just a few niggling details and she could sleep the whole ride home. That alone gave her hooves a little bounce as she trotted onwards.
Arriving at the end of the closest ticket counter queue, she sorted through her saddlebags for the pouch containing her few remaining bits.
"... what the hay?" she exclaimed, rooting frantically about. "Where the blueberry blazes did ah put ... it was just ... ah swear I had 'em right here!"
Before she could manage to figure out what had happened, a fuchsia hoof appeared in her periphery.
"Here you go Applejack," Pinkie grinned, holding out her missing coin purse. "You should be more careful with your money. I usually recommend investing it in sugarcane stocks, myself. Mmm... sugar! I'm sure most of your folder is deeply fixed in the produce markets, but it never hurts to diversify! Salt is good too, so long as you're not thirsty!"
The orange earth pony stared incredulously at her pink comrade, then shook any reasonable nagging questions from her head before she was overwhelmed.
"Woah! Ah... well thanks, but Pinkie..." Applejack stammered, taking back her bits, "what the heck are you doing in Bridleburgh?"
"I have no idea!" Pinkie Pie beamed, hopping in place.
So much for a timely return to Ponyville, damn the luck.
---
Spike squirmed nervously, finding Fluttershy's devoted attentions nearly too invasive to handle. Upon her sudden dramatic declaration previous, the conversation had since fallen to murmured hums and knowing nods as the yellow pegasus performed a very personal physical.
Maybe a bit too personal.
"Was this lump always here?" she noted, gesturing towards...
"WOAH!" Spike jumped, throwing himself into the corner of the couch, curling into an intimate ball. "What the hay is going on here!? There's nothing wrong with me!"
Fluttershy clucked her tongue, shaking her head.
"I've lived alongside the Everfree Forest for a long time," she recanted, searching about the various vials and vessels kept organised neatly in her nearby pantry. "I have nursed nearly every cute critter and cantankerous creature you could think of through the very worst ailments... please, will you trust me?"
Plucking a corked beaker from the top shelf in her mouth, she turned back to her malcontent patient. The mare placed it gently beside the shaken dragon and pulled the top from it. A slow waft of floral plume developed about their countenance.
"Tell me what's haunting you, Spike?" Fluttershy whispered.
The little drake noted a hint of lavender in the air, and despite himself took an attentive sniff at it.
His body suddenly felt lighter, and the scent became more attractive. Taking a decidedly long draught at the inviting smell, his muscles melted, and he felt as if he was floating adrift a warm breeze.
"... what's going on? This feels so good..." Spike managed, his eyelids suddenly drooping as his mind relented to a state of unmitigated bliss. "I don't think... I mean, I don't really know... I'm just a little confused about me? Maybe a bit hurt inside, I don't know..."
Fluttershy nuzzled at him, settling the dragon back into the soft comfort of her weathered chesterfield, as the downy material enveloped him in a cradling embrace.
"It's okay now. I know how to treat all sorts of poisons," she whispered in his ear, nudging him into a more restful position.
"I also know when to ask for help."
As Spike began to snore, a knock came at Fluttershy's door. After replacing the stopper for her medicinal beaker, she then marched purposefully to answer her visitor, opening the entry with a relieved smile.
"Thank goodness you're here," Fluttershy sighed in relief. "Not a moment too soon!"
"I came as soon as I could," Zecora nodded, noting the packed saddlebags draped over her sides. "I doubt I'd be any faster – did you have to send every animal in the wood?"
Fluttershy blushed for that.
"It is an emergency," she promised.
---
The train came to a soft halt at Canterlot, and bodies began moving throughout the aisles in a frenzied effort to collect overhanging baggage. Children and parents cooed awestruck irreverence for the splendor of their beloved capital as they disembarked, yet Twilight remained steadfast in her seat.
She hadn't moved a muscle since ushering Pinkie off, admittedly. Her head had swum in a discord of strange thoughts since, and as much as she'd fought to make sense of these unusual desires pushing at her, she couldn't manage to properly decipher anything.
"Madam?"
Twilight looked up at an awaiting porter and shook herself back into waking reality. He was watching her with some particular purpose now, perhaps having asked her a few times.
"... sorry," she blushed, searching her suddenly stirred thoughts for a viable retort. "I was thinking. Yes?"
The uniformed pony smiled at the lavender unicorn, seeming genuinely concerned.
"Canterlot is our last stop. Unless you'd like to proceed beyond your ticket?"
She only then recognised that she'd been violently squeezing her train ticket all this while, set obviously in her sore grasp.
"...oh, right." Twilight murmured, looking at the receipt absently.
"Are you okay?" the railway caretaker finally asked.
"Perfectly," the librarian breathed, sitting upright and boldfaced. She knew what had to be done, and had for some long while. Leaning forward, she dutifully claimed a few bits from her purse and offered them neatly to her concierge.
"Please upgrade my ticket? I want to proceed to the Crystal Empire."
The attendant nodded, claiming her bits, then printed a new ticket with the device belted at his waist.
"One ticket set for the Empire. Thank you, madam."
Twilight found herself grinning, despite.
"Oh no," she cooed gently. "Thank you."
To Be Continued.