There I was, lying on my comfortable, silky sheets, thinking about it again. I could think of nothing but the Ponyville Days festival, my actions, and how it had affected my friendships. Trenderhoof, Spike, Applejack… I had been forgiven, learned my lesson, and proceeded to complete the Ponyville Days celebration without a hitch. The stallion had turned out to not be the one for me, just like last time…
I rolled over and whimpered into my pillow, unable to escape the prison of my own guilt. The fact that I had not only stooped low enough to wallow in jealousy, chase tail over my own friends, and made an utter fool of myself, but I had mocked my friend and her lifestyle. Something that happened to me many a moon ago, but nevertheless had been soul-crushing as well. I had forgiven Fluttershy as Applejack had forgiven me. But this hadn’t been the first time.
When Fluttershy had become a model, I had been nothing but jealous. Nothing but a passive-aggressive green eyed monster! It was unladylike and unfriendly; envy was my greatest flaw. Yes, a flaw. Something that I had buried down and lied to myself about. I lived in denial, wishing to be a flawless, beautiful cubic zirconia, when in reality I am nothing but a cracked diamond. Cold, lifeless, deserving to be stepped on and tossed aside.
My sleep continued to be delayed as I watched my mind wander. When Twilight had ascended as a princess… I was jealous. Not so much so, considering she did earn it after saving our destinies, but even then a twinge of green struck my heart. I wanted to be a princess! I wanted to be pretty and loved by all of Equestria! I wanted to marry a prince and live my life as nobility! But alas, Twilight earned her rightful place as a ruler, while I remained as a lowly unicorn in Ponyville. A toxic thought, I admit, and one not easily shaken.
I curled up underneath my large blanket, cradling myself to keep warm. My heart had frozen, a fact I had glossed over in my random infatuations, and it had affected everypony. Even Spike was becoming sick of my company, yet he still stayed true and at my side. I considered it miraculous, considering the cruel claim I had said as I sobbed over my shrine. If I had been Spike, I would have just left and never turned back. It was one of my thoughts that echoed in my mind after the night’s fun had faded away, leaving me with nopony but myself.
Spike deserves...better.
Better… I bit my lip. Rolling over once more, a copper taste met my tongue. I was the worst, wasn’t I? Anypony would be better for Spike, better to be fawned over and assisted than somepony who would never appreciate him as he deserves. He was, after all, a gentledrake, the kindest friend one could have, and a national hero to boot.
I was hardly a friend at all, especially after my mistreatment toward Applejack. Now that I thought about it, now that I finally stopped lying to myself, it wasn’t just Applejack, but Fluttershy and Spike as well… my three dearest friends, and yet I treat them terribly under a passive-aggressive facade. All to further my own needs and desires. I was the worst.
Sighing, I rolled out of bed and onto my four hooves. If I was going to get any sleep that night, I required liquid sustenance. Slipping on my slippers, I traveled through the dark halls and downstairs toward my kitchen. There, I poured myself a glass of cool, refreshing water.
Cold, soothing liquid poured down my parched throat as I continued to ponder my predicament. My element was—well, had been—generosity during my brief stint as a national hero, but I hadn’t felt generous as of late. I hadn’t been generous at all, really. Did I truly deserve such a prestigious title? Material-wise, I suppose you could consider me to be generous, but that was excess thanks to Spike’s assistance. And even then, I was still taking and taking from the poor dear.
I returned upstairs with a satisfied throat. With the allure of sleep still nullified by my nerves, I traveled to my dresser. Opening the top drawer, I reached inside for a couple framed photographs of my friends. I ignored the one of the six of us and took out the one of Applejack and Spike.
Spike had on a cheerful face. If fact, one might call it “goofy.” He was still a child, and yet he was more mature than moi. When he had first arrived to Ponyville a year ago with Twilight, he had been nothing more than another infatuated boy who saw a pretty mare and lost all rational thought. Something I had cruelly ignored, despite the obvious hints. Of course I know now, especially since his birthday, but there was no excuse for pretending I hadn’t. Now he was growing up, mature, and showing signs of drifting away.
Sighing, I blew a stray lock of hair out of my eyes and set down the frame on top of the dresser. I held up the one of Applejack with a single hoof and leaned on my other foreleg, resting my cheek on a slipper. Applejack was looking at the camera with a half-lidded, sly look. It was the same look she had given Trenderhoof and I while she was bucking trees. Now that I wasn’t completely obsessed with some random stallion in town, I could truly appreciate her beauty without the shroud of envy clouding my judgement.
My ears flopped to the side as I replaced the frames inside the drawer, pondering why I lacked the same natural beauty. Make-up and dresses, that’s all I really had. Only Spike appreciated me, and I knew, with much regret, how that turned out for the poor dragon. If it weren’t for my glamour and passion for fashion, I would never get a second look from any stallion.
I had tried making a fashion statement—or should I say, a fashion disaster—out of farming. A cruel, cruel mockery of earth ponies’ hard work. Why did I honestly think of making a fashion line out farming? What is wrong with me? I fought back salty tears with my blurring vision. My forehead rested on the dresser as I pondered my question. Farming and fashion don’t mix. At all.
Or do they…? a tiny voice asked inside my mind. I almost shaked it off, but a vision flashed before my eyes. A vision of something beautiful, miraculous, useful.
Inspiration.
I stood up, my strength returned with a new epiphany. I twirled around and ran to my window, looking out at the town. It was the wee hours of the morning, and the festival was still alive. I could barely, barely see the Ponyville Days Gala from my stature, gifting me with the sight of the two I had hoped were still awake and partying. There was still time.
I can still make it up to them.
Two hours passed before I finished. Two hours of crafting, measuring, and a catchy tune I made up on the spot. Two hours of my very soul poured into the art I held in my hooves.
Thankfully, Twilight agreed to forward my messages to Spike and Applejack, instructing them to wait at the end of the festival for me instead of returning home. She had done so reluctantly, especially after my actions during the preparation of the festival, but consented after I made my intentions clear and swore to treat Spike as a proper friend, not some pet. Twilight, as much as I hate to admit, was a much more generous mare than I. She even offered to help.
And now here I am, behind the curtain, watching as Applejack and Spike take their seats in front of the stage. My knees buckle underneath, my legs quiver and threaten to give out in fright. Jitters I hadn’t felt in years, as nothing more had been at stake than now.
Come on Rarity, old girl, you worked hard for this. You can do this! I grit my teeth and hold my head up high. Twilight, joining me as my backstage assistant, winks and ushers me forth beyond the curtain. Without a single whinny of fear from my lips, I trot onto the runway and before the eyes of my friends.
Applejack was the first to have a noticeable reaction, raising an eyebrow as she took in my new design. I wasn’t sure if it was irritation or disappointment that flashed in her eyes, but she held her tongue and leaned back. Spike had a blank look on his face, as he always did whenever I modeled new clothing on our friends. He was more of a simple charmer, appreciating a pony for her natural beauty.
“Er, Rarity,” Applejack starts, fiddling with her loose lock of mane with a hoof. “It looks nice and all, but didn’t we, ya know, already talk about this?”
I cring ever-so-slightly at her comment, not wanting to rehash our conflict that was thanks to my own doing. The possibility that my attempt at reconciliation and apology would be confused for my usual… pettiness made my heart sink like stone. “N-no darling, of course not!”
Spike places a claw on Applejack’s back and pats her, comforting her. “So, what is it, Rarity?”
I mirror Applejack’s motion and relax, our shoulders losing their tension. Returning to my usual fashionista state of mind, I turn to the side to model the new outfit. “I call it… True Simple Ways™!” I lift my hoof and drag it across my barrel, touching every seam and strap on my new jacket.
It is, indeed, simple. “Nice, denim fabric that’s gentle on the coat and pleasant to the eye. Simple, elegant and practical,” I declare as I sensually trace every stitch on my farming jacket. “And best of all-”
“Yeah, Rarity, I’m just not feeling it,” Applejack says, interrupting me and rubbing her temples with her hooves. “What happened to staying yourself instead of trying to impress other ponies and all that schtick?” She scrunches her muzzle and furrows her brow, evidently suppressing a headache.
“But-” I say, before freezing. But. That was my excuse for everything, to justify everything I did. But I didn’t mean to be a big jerk! I didn’t mean to be a passive aggressive bitch! BUT NOTHING. I sigh, and try again. “This… this isn’t made to impress anypony. It is designed for farm work and nothing more.”
Applejack raises her head and an eyebrow, even going as far as to smirk. I bite back my defensive whining and allow her to speak.
“So… what’s with the fluffy collar? Kinda frilly, don’t ya think?” That comment made me want nothing more to do than wipe the smug smirk off her face, but I abstain and bite back a retort.
Instead, I puff out my chest and say, “Actually, if you must know, this ‘frilly’ collar is not an accessory in the slightest. Rather…” I turn my head and summon my magic, bringing forth a plowing collar. I shudder under the grungy work piece, biting back my complaints to slip it on. Spike retains his complacent expression through this, but Applejack’s confusion only furthers.
“I don’t get it,” Applejack says, rubbing her chin. “If I can’t see it, then what’s the point?”
I couldn’t help but giggle at the irony. “Applejack, Applejack,” I say as I shake my head and walk to the edge of the runway, a mere tail-length away. “What I am wearing is a centimeter thick denim neck brace with a wool covering. Designed to reduce friction on the neck and shoulders of the farmer, and add support to the brace. So when you plow…”
“You hardly feel it!” Applejack stomps her hooves in realization. I almost chuckle, having seen the light turn on upstairs as Applejack smiles with her epiphany.
“Yes, indeed.” I run a hoof through my mane, thankfully restyled after my frightful outburst. “Utility and fashion, is it not?”
“Well…” Applejack bites her lip, contemplating the outfit. “You still can’t see it, so-”
My ears drop and I release a small whimper, quieting her criticism. I didn’t mean to, but it was a bad habit. A habit I needed to break. Instead, I bow my head. “I-I know, darling. It’s not perfect, but I’m trying.”
She bites her lip as Spike looks aside to her, raising an eyebrow. A heartbeat later, she nods and waits for me to continue.
Onward with the presentation then. I lift a foreleg, presenting my cute little boot for all to see. “Now, you may recognize these from my, er, bucking earlier. While still retaining their style, I changed out the sole for a Cuben pair. Absorbent, strong, and perfect for protecting your hooves when bucking apple trees.” Applejack gave an approving nod, now leaning on a hoof on the stage and peering closer in honest curiosity.
I turn around to leave the stage, intending to quickly change and show off my harvest line, when I briefly glance behind and see Spike leaning over and whispering something. Applejack nods and waves him off; Spike scampers off before I could even shout an inquiry.
Worrying that I had done something wrong, I decide to forego the fashion show and whisper to Twilight about Spike’s dismissal. I then slip off the jacket and collar, turning around to gallop to the end of the stage.
Only to receive an applause from Applejack.
I tilt my head. “Um, Applejack, whatever happened with Spike? I didn’t bore the dear, did I?”
Applejack laughs and wipes a tear from her eyes. “Of course not! He just went off home to get some shut-eye, that’s all. And thank Celestia you took that get-up off, it looked ridiculous!”
Opening my mouth, I prepare a quip as my mind wraps around the irony of Applejack critiquing my appearance. She watches my mouth hang open for a moment before motioning with her hooves to close it. I sigh and lie down on the edge of the catwalk, hanging a foreleg over in exhaustion.
“I’m sorry, Applejack,” I say, hanging my head down low. “I just… I just wanted to make it up to you. Make something that you could actually use after I had mocked everything you live for.”
Instead of a response, I feel a single hoof lie on top of my own. It’s warm, gentle. “It’s alright, sugarcube. I know you’re trying. I just don’t need it, you hear? We earth ponies, the Apple family, we’re used to doing it the old natural way. It’s part of how we get stronger, instead of just taking shortcuts.” She lifts my chin with her other hoof and brings my eyes to her emeralds. “Tell you what, ‘darling’, if you really want to make it up to me… how about a dance?”
This certainly piques my interest. A failed fashion show leading into a private dance between friends. Nodding my acceptance, she helps me offstage and onto my hooves. Most ponies had already left the Ponyville Days Gala, but the late night DJ is still going strong. With nothing but the night before us, I allow her to lead me to the dance floor, making us the only present couple.
Couple, I resist the bestial urge to snort. Ironic that it had been a stallion that drove the wedge—er, a stallion had been the cause of me driving a wedge into my heart. Now, here I am, dancing a simple waltz with the very friend I had nearly betrayed for the sake of courtship. I felt like wallowing in my self-pity for longer, but Applejack spins me out of my thoughts. Literally.
“Oh my, Applejack! I didn’t know you knew how to dance like that!” I gasp as she holds me in her forelegs, tipping me backwards until my horn almost scrapes the ground. She flips me over and gracefully turns me onto my hooves, beaming a confident smile.
“I’m not a one-trick pony, ya know!” she says, proceeding to pull me in close and taking the, slow but steady, lead. My bare chest brushes against her dress as her hot breath blows against my ear, accentuated by her smooth, graceful steps. Even I, one who worships Canterlot society, could not keep up with her in this manner of grace. Applejack continues by whispering in my ear, “I’m not just a farmer, ya know. I’m a girl just like anypony else.”
Giggling, I voice my agreement and continue our dance, bantering as we did so. “You’re quite right, Applejack. Here I was, thinking that farming was all about ‘hicks’ and ‘hoedowns’ and looking like a silly filly all day!”
“You can say that again!” Applejack chuckles as she corrects my hoof placement, saving me from stumbling on my hooves and an embarrassing trip. “And you were all like, ‘I luuuuuuurve mud!’ I couldn’t help but think what happened to the Rarity at our first sleepover, whining about my grungy hooves!”
My mind flashes back to the day, nearly a year ago, only making me cringe ever so slightly. “Yeah… But I’m alright in your hooves now, aren’t I?” I say, closing my eyes for a moment and smiling. Feeling somewhat giddy, I place hoof on her chest and push. “And now I’m the one muddying you up!”
She only laughs harder, taking both hooves and wrapping them around my neck. She gives my mane a quick shake, to which I bite back my utter horror, before lowering her hooves down to my cheeks. “I remember that, I was all touchy-feely like this and getting mud all over the place. Just like this...” She stares into my eyes for a moment, her face entering a state of ignorance. She snaps out of it a moment only a moment later and squeezes my cheeks to my chagrin. “Eeyup, just like this.”
“I remember us like this,” I lament as she lowers her hooves. Our noses were an inch apart, threatening an embarrassing nuzzle. “When we could joke, enjoy each other’s company, without a care in the world. Now I’m worrying about high fashion as you run a farm; to each their own, unfortunately.”
“Agreed,” Applejack breathes as she tilts her head. A blast of cider scent hits my nose, something that made it twitch. I don’t drink the hard kegs for a reason. “Stress really gets to us, Rarity. You and I both. Sometimes” -she begins to lean forward- “we have to sit back and smell the apple blossoms.”
Closing my eyes, relaxing my sore legs, and smiling, I nod my agreement. “Yes, we do. No matter how many bits are at stake, we still need to appreciate each other in our lives. You’re much more important than some random stallion, you know.”
Applejack giggles, a giggle I could feel against my fur. “I understand, Rarity. You were infatuated. Girls will be girls, after all.” Her voice drops to a whisper, causing something inside me to become wary.
Her nose bumps against mine.
I pull away from our close embrace, noticing her extremely luminescent blush. How much had she been drinking? Nevertheless, her comment did spur a question from me. I grasp her hoof in mine as we began a four-step, not wanting to alienate her.
“So, darling, speaking of girls being girls…” I search for the right question as she gives me an inquisitive look. I tilt my head left to right, debating before deciding on my question. I look her straight in the eye and spit it out. “Why weren’t you interested in Trenderhoof? He was obviously infatuated, you know. You’re quite the pretty mare, Applejack. Why haven’t you found a stallion in all this time?”
As I had complimented her, Applejack’s grin widened and her cheeks flushed. But my last question impacts her in some way, faltering her cheerful persona. She grimaces and stares at me, her eyes reflecting some sort of pity. “You really don’t know, do you?”
This catches me by surprise, evident by my perking ears. “K-know what, darling?”
Instead of grimacing and ruining the mood, Applejack gives me a worried but honest smile. “Wow, Rarity, I knew you were bright, but I never knew you could also be so dim!”
My growl only causes her to tease with a well-deserved raspberry.
“Anyway,” she says, continuing our dance, “I should probably help you with this one. Who is Twilight’s favorite pony in all of Equestria?”
“Princess Celestia, of course,” I answer without a second thought. Twilight’s mood swings were closely tied to the gaining the princess’s approval, after all, being her personal student and all…
“Now tell me,” Applejack says, interrupting my thoughts. “Who is Rainbow Dash’s favorite Wonderbolt?”
Now this one is difficult. I think for a moment, debating if it had been that hunky stallion named Soarin. No, it was—”Spitfire, is it not?”
“Right.” She nods, her curly blonde locks blowing in the wind. “Remember that musician, Lyra? Who’s she always being seen with?”
“Bon Bon. I’m not sure where you’re getting at-”
“Pinkie Pie is always hanging out with…?”
“Rainbow Dash! Okay, everypony knows that! Where are you—mmph!”
“And now, the last question I’m going to ask you,” Applejack says as she holds my mouth shut with her hoof. She winks at me and smiles before pulling away. She places her hooves on the ground and gives an awkward shuffle, ensuring I would keep my tongue. Many thoughts were resounding in my head, but nothing stood out more than Finally!
“Rarity...er, well…” She rubs her shoulder and looks to the side. “When is the last time you’ve ever seen me with a stallion?”
Thoughts of her family reunions and Big Macintosh come to mind, but those were obviously not what she meant. Filthy Rich is mostly likely not a candidate, given his age, leaving…nopony left. I rub my mane with a hoof, straightening it, as my mind tries to grasp something out of its reach. “I-I really don’t know what you mean, Applejack. I’ve never seen you with a stallion, only-”
It finally clicked.
Despite all my usual reservations, irritation, and dislike of such gestures, I facehoof. I facehoof so hard my face hurts. With the skewed gender birth rates, bisexuality is common in the female populace, along with herding behaviors in smaller communities. Applejack, apparently, is a lesbian. How could I possibly miss that? I’m her friend!
Applejack trots over and wraps a foreleg around my shoulders. Usually I would hesitate after learning such information, but I bite my tongue. Even I, as much as I’d hate to admit, am somewhat excessively touchy-feely with certain mares like Twilight. Cuddling, holding hooves, prolonging hugs... I used to chock it up to my lack of luck with the male crowd, but there’s no point in hiding it now.
As much as I wanted to ask Applejack more about this discovery, something in the back of my mind came to fruition. Deciding that a change in tracks was in order, I turn to Applejack and ask, “By the way, as out there as this seems, what ever did Spike whisper to you during my pathetic performance?”
Applejack bares her teeth in a sly grin. Before I could utter a response, she leans forward and pecks me on the cheek, summoning a tiny blush on my cheeks. She pulls back, winks, and smiles. “He told me to have fun, but treat you well. You had a rough day, after all.”
“Oh,” I say, shuffling my hooves and inching away. Noticing my cornered movement, Applejack frowns and steps back to give me space. My mind is racing with all the possibilities. Again, I sigh and bow my head. I had learned this lesson a hundred times in my career, one I can’t ignore now. Clearing my head of all psychological noise, I bring my head up and look into Applejack’s eyes.
“Darling, I am a lady of class. You are going to have to buy me a drink first.”
“Done.”