When Twilight left, following after Applejack, I didn’t blame her one bit. And as the minutes ticked by, and I found myself still waiting, alone, I couldn’t help but view it as a positive sign, one bright light in this night that had otherwise gone so horribly awry. Surely, that meant they were talking, and had stumbled upon a subject worth conversing about in depth. Surely they were managing to salvage things.
...Or Twilight was still standing frozen in a corridor as she diligently tried to work up the nerve to track down an Applejack who had already left for the farm.
My hooves shifted, tapping against the floor. That was… unlikely, of course. Probably. Surely! Possibly?
I couldn’t do much but wait, regardless. I’d have to put my faith in Twilight. She had not been made a Princess for nothing. She was clever, and brave, and always had the most ineffable knack for coming through when it counted.
But that meant sitting alone in the bedroom-slash-party-area, where my thoughts couldn’t help but drift to worries and guilt. I tried to distract myself, first critiquing the room’s decor, making plans to send for some satin curtains in a nice aqua, to brighten up the whole flow and better match the old bookcases that Twilight had insisted on adding. It seemed like she had ensured the addition of shelves to nearly every room in the castle, which gave it all a definite… Twilight-ness, most certainly, even if it made my attempts to establish contrasting themes on a room-by-room basis quite awkward.
But solving this room’s fashion problems was a trivial task, and could only hold my attention so long. And without any of my notebooks or access to my fabric, I couldn’t do much in the way of brainstorming for my fall line of apparel— Who was I kidding? I was already months ahead on that too.
So I sat and thought, which inevitably led to analyzing the events of the night. What I had said. How, precisely, I had said it. What I could have done differently.
As preposterous as it may seem, I had the best of intentions, I swear.
I did feel bad in partially deceiving poor Applejack and Twilight, but from the very beginning I had their own interests in heart. Perhaps that makes me arrogant, or meddling. I’ve certainly been called that and worse. But they’re my friends! I couldn’t help but love them and want them to be happy. Together, if that’s what it took.
Of course I knew how Applejack felt about me. Unlike certain others, I am astute enough to see the quiet signals, to note the touches that linger too long, the gazes that drift into a wistful longing. And not just from my admiring farmmare – I had picked up on Twilight’s own rather apparent infatuation with Applejack some time ago.
It was painful, watching, waiting. Seeing Twilight dance around her feelings. I had begun to assume she would never act, up until she knocked on my door asking for advice. Of course, she had just about run herself ragged in thinking and overthinking the situation. She needed help. She asked for help. I could not leave a friend in need.
I had come into the night expecting a certain amount of difficulty in navigating such personal topics, yes, but I didn’t think it would go… quite like it had. Of all the times for Twilight to work up the nerve to push Applejack! I had hoped to gently guide Applejack through her feelings. To allow her to admit her preferences in a safe environment. To help her see the more practical opportunities right there waiting for her. I had never expected her to confess to me so immediately and singlemindedly, but… that was certainly our Applejack.
I had simply done what I thought necessary. And… that wasn’t a justification. Affairs of the heart are never simple, and I was a fool to think otherwise. I could only hope—
No, I told myself, earnestly trying to convince a still guilty mind. Applejack would be fine. She was strong. She would bounce right back, and Twilight had gone to her side after all. Everypony knows that it’s preferable to rip the bandage off immediately. If I had tried to be gentler, if I had strung her along or tried to preserve her feelings, things might have wound up differently. Ponies would have been hurt. Or… Or, I might have...
No, this was the way it had to be.
I sighed, the sound loud in the quiet room.
I just wish I didn’t feel so horrible all of a sudden. I couldn’t imagine why, but my thoughts more and more turned to red on a field of orange. The more that I assured myself that I had done the right thing, had the right reasons, the more a tiny voice somewhere deep inside cried out the contrary. What if I was wrong? What if I had been wrong from the very beginning? I knew the path I had chosen, but what had I left behind?
It’s not odd, I told myself. It was perfectly reasonable and normal to briefly reflect on the could-have-been. Thoughts drifting to lovely fall days split between farm and boutique. Of the difficulties that we would have faced, but could have worked through with a mutual trust and love. The time spent in quiet companionship, as sensibilities rustic and urbane melded together to make something entirely new. Even the fights. Celestia help me, but I couldn’t help but enjoy even the infuriating spats with her.
I loved all my friends, don’t get me wrong, but Applejack… Applejack was certainly special to me. For as much as I could be overly dramatic, it seemed like she never failed to know right when to play along, right when to cut through the theatrics with a sharp word, and, most amazing of all, right when I was truly hurt and needed a shoulder to cry on.
She was always a joy to be around, bringing light and laughter to any day. I recall the Gala, long ago, when I was enraptured with foolish swooning over that horrible Blueblood and yet it was a brief word with Applejack that brought me the one genuine smile of the night. She was there, diligently running her food stand, always thinking of others above herself.
Of all the stallions I had chased, had any of them ever really been her equal? Even all put together, could they match her strength, determination, or work ethic? And her honesty, never a thing used to hurt or tear down, but always building up. Kind thoughts to refresh and reinforce, an encouragement to lead you to believe you could be a better pony, all the while as you knew her words to be absolute truth.
I realized that my eyes were dripping for some reason. I dabbed at them gently, not wanting to smear the tasteful amount of makeup I had applied for the night.
I was being a silly pony, of course. Applejack was everything that I wasn’t. Where she was open and honest, I built my life on facades and veneers, carefully calibrating everything about myself for the sake of others. I do not mean that as a criticism of myself, nor pure braggadocio.
I had worked very hard to be the pony I was today. I had diligently crafted my identity piece by piece over the years, always endeavoring to be the right pony in the right place at the right time. The refined socialite, always with the authority and demeanor to dispense careful advice when needed. The local business owner, well-off and friendly enough such that nopony would turn down my charity out of concern or pride. The normal, well-adjusted mare, well-versed in the details of romance – a virtuous maiden in the classical sense: elegant, beautiful, and of course, straight.
My thoughts choked out with a bitter taste in my mouth.
...At times I envied Applejack’s innate ability to just be herself. She had such a lovely self, after all.
I sniffed. She would be happy, though. In all honesty, she and Twilight made for quite a pair themselves, Applejack’s steadiness grounding Twilight’s occasional eccentricities, and Twilight’s innate practicality and reasonableness preventing Applejack’s lapses of stubborn self-reliance. As long as those two could break through their infuriatingly guarded exteriors and connect, I was willing to bet that they would be a positively delightful couple.
If only I could shake the rather silly image of myself in the picture, instead of—
The door banged open, and Twilight stumbled in. The poor dear looked dazed, and I instantly rushed over to be at her side.
“Twilight! Darling! What’s wrong? Did it not go well?” I took a deep breath, my heart beating fast as I started running through the best ways to comfort her, to help build up her no doubt shattered confidence. “Dear, there are many ponies in the sea, you know, and—”
“I got a date,” she said, sounding amazed at the words coming out of her own lips. Her eyes focused on me, and a smile spread across her face. “Rarity! I got a date!”
She grasped both of my forehooves in her own and spun me around, face lighting up with giddy excitement. “Yes yes yes!” she happily chirped. Suddenly she stopped. “A-are you okay?”
“Of course, darling,” I murmured. “I’m so happy for you!”
That’s what the tears were for. Happy tears.
I had my business, my career, my friends. I had been blessed enough as it is. If helping others required me to make certain sacrifices, give up certain desires, push aside idle notions of futures that could have been. Well...
There’s truly nothing that I wouldn’t do on behalf of my dear friends.