//------------------------------// // Morning // Story: Ordinary World // by PaulAsaran //------------------------------// Golden stirred, her mind gradually recovering from slumber. She felt so… comfortable. She snuggled up against the unusually soft pillow, a gentle smile on her lips. She dozed for a while, but eventually her mind began to work on its own. The first thing it asked was: why were her sheets so soft? These weren’t her usual cotton… Her eyes slowly opened, peering at the pristine white covers of the bed. Curious, her covers were green. She closed her eyes and let out a light huff, her mind already drifting away from the thought. She was so sleepy, more so than her usual mornings. She’d have trouble getting her carrot stand open in time. What had Rarity put her— Rarity. The previous night blasted into Golden’s mind. She remembered Rarity getting hit, chasing Trixie into an alley… There was a flash, maybe an explosion? And then… What then? If she was lying on silk sheets… “Rarity?” Golden sat up quick, the covers falling off her shoulders and slumping at her hooves. Her eyes darted about, her heart pounding at the idea of where she might be. She found herself in a very large bedroom, the walls a dark grey and the décor featuring numerous stylized flowers. She looked up to find that the bed had a canopy, lavishly decorated with dancing wooden ponies. This wasn’t even close to Rarity’s room. Golden didn’t know whether to be relieved or deeply disappointed. But if she wasn’t at Rarity’s… where was she? “Hello?” Golden’s head swiveled about in a slow arc as she studied her surroundings. Goddess, this placed looked exorbitant. She could see a chandelier hanging above the balcony window, for buck’s sake! And those pale curtains – with their lace and intricate markings – would probably make Rarity drool. Golden decided to check the window. At the very least she might determine if she was still in Ponyville… though she doubted there was even a house in Ponyville as big as this one room. She kicked off the sheets and turned, reaching a hoof down to the floor… She blinked; her hoof touched the carpet much faster than she’d expected. She glanced down, half expecting to see some kind of box or step. What she saw was her leg… except it wasn’t her leg. It was a pale pink color, and it was long. Golden stared at the appendage for several seconds, trying to process what she was seeing. She tried to move; the leg rose. It was long and delicate-looking… and yet she could tell it wasn’t weak. She could feel the muscles, could tell there was more strength than the dainty appearance suggested. But it wasn’t her leg. She raised both forehooves. They matched perfectly. She stared at them for several long seconds, mind empty from her inability to understand what was happening. She began to feel something welling up from within; her breathing picked up speed, her heart began to hammer in her chest, her eyes steadily grew wider. “Calm down, Golden,” she whispered. “There’s got to be a good reason for this. Just… just stay calm.” She reached up to touch at her own face. Her coat felt so much softer, and her muzzle was long but small. She touched her mane and felt luxurious, silken smoothness – at least that was the same – but it was longer. She lifted it up in a hoof and saw that it was a bright pink. “Okay… a dream. Th-that’s right, this is a dream.” Golden stepped off the bed. She’d expected to fall from the long legs, but her body behaved on its own and her balance was perfect. Even so, she moved slowly. She made her cautious way to the window and pushed the curtains aside. Her balcony provided a view of a nearby mansion, tall and imposing and solid wood. It was surrounded by buildings that were no less exotic, Golden’s eyes going wide as saucers at the sight of so much wealth in one place. There, hovering over it all in the distance like a glorious mountain, was a familiar castle. Canterlot Castle. Golden backstepped from the window, a hoof over her lips as the curtains gently fell back into place and blocked her view. “What… what am I doing in Canterlot?” She saw her small hoof and let out a squeak. “What do I even look like?” She turned from the window, her heart fluttering and her mind frantic. What in the name of Celestia was she doing here? Her eyes darted about and finally settled on an open door near the bed. She moved to it, her mind running circles as it tried to find an explanation for her situation. “Is anypony there?” She paused and sat in the doorway, jaw dropping at the sight of what had to be the biggest walk-in closet she’d ever seen. No, this wasn’t a closet; it was a boudoir! Rows upon rows of clothes, all separated by designer and in mint condition. In one corner was a vanity so massive it looked like it would take up an entire wall of Golden’s humble dining room. A mirror! Golden ran to it, rearing back to set her hooves to the desktop. She stared at a pristine, soft face with violet eyes. Though her pink mane was unkempt from a good night’s sleep, it was still visibly luxurious. She touched the soft coat of her face, eyes wide and breath caught in her throat. Good goddess, she was beautiful! And a unicorn. Golden’s eyes crossed as she observed the horn that was on her head. Wow, it was long! Whoever she was supposed to be in this dream, she imagined the stallions would be lining up for a chance to spend five seconds with her. That was the moment that she recognized who she was: Fleur de Lis, the world-famous fashion model. Why was she dreaming about being in the body of Fleur de Lis? Come to think of it… Fleur had been at the auction. In the alleyway, too. She’d been right there when the explosion – or whatever it was – had occurred. Did that mean anything? Golden let out a small yelp as some black clouds poofed into existence over her head. A small scroll dropped from them as they faded, bouncing off her horn and knocking some bottles down on the vanity. She stared at it for a few seconds, tilting her head in wonder. What a peculiar dream… Rarity would be interested in hearing this. Curiosity struck; Golden unrolled the scroll. Little Miss, It’s not like you to keep me waiting. I was expecting your report last night, and instead I received a letter from one of the agents assigned to you. We need to talk. I have an idea of what’s happened. If I’m wrong, send a response immediately. If I’m right… then whoever you are, don’t leave Canterlot. Help is on the way. FC PS – If I’m wrong… let Miss Lulamoon go. Immediately. Golden stared at the initials for some time. FC? Who the buck was FC? How did he know Fleur? How was he able to send a letter directly to her? And how was she supposed to respond? This dream kept getting weirder and weirder. Then again, if it was a dream… Golden eyed her new horn curiously. Maybe she could use it? She looked down at the opened letter on top of the vanity. How did unicorns do it? Maybe if she just focused… She concentrated on the paper, imagining it rising in the air. It just lay there. Golden frowned and tried again, this time closing her eyes and grinding her teeth. After a few seconds she peered with one eye… to find the letter unmoved. She heaved a sigh and bowed her head; this wasn’t as easy as Rarity made it look. She reached up and tapped the horn, her head jerking slightly from the hit. She blinked, having not expected such force; Fleur really was stronger than she looked. Well, this was a dream. She tried again, this time moving her hoof very slowly along the side of the horn. She felt an intense tingling and blushed, promptly pulling her hoof away. She had no idea unicorn horns were so… sensitive. Or was that just some horny fantasy – she winced at her own mental pun – playing out in the dream? She was tempted to try it again… but shook her head with force and turned away from the vanity. She was not going to entertain such thoughts. Especially in another pony’s body! But maybe she could ask Rarity— No. Cheeks burning, Golden began to walk to the door. As she did she spotted the names of various fashion designers above the clothing sets and came to a pause. Fleur was one of Rarity’s clients, wasn’t she? Golden scoured the boudoir, her eyes reading every name. After a few seconds she spotted Rarity’s and went to investigate. So many dresses… so many styles. Why did any one pony need so much? Then again, wasn’t it because of ponies like Fleur that Rarity was so wealthy? And busy… Golden stared at the dresses in all their finery, a sudden intense bitterness filling her. She felt at one silken red dress, examining its lace and the perfectly-preserved stitching. The stiff collar, the rubies that lined the skirt. Golden took in all the little details… and steamed. This was what Rarity devoted all her time to. Did she really enjoy making these dresses so much? Golden was tempted to rip the thing to pieces! She seriously considered it; this was a dream, after all. She found her hooves reaching up to grasp the dress, began to pull… “Miss de Lis?” Golden jumped with a yelp… and heard a rip. She stared with wide eyes at the ruined torso of the dress, tiny silken threads hanging loosely between her hooves. “Oh, I am so sorry!” A unicorn appeared at her side, grabbing the dress from Golden’s hooves and gaping at the tear. “I didn’t mean to, I swear! If I had known you were lost in th-thought, why I never would have…” Golden tilted her head at the brown-maned pony. “Oh… um… it’s okay.” “Now, now, no need to p-panic.” The mare’s head jerked about in search of something, her blue eyes frantic. “I promise, Miss de Lis, I… I’ll… who was the designer? I’ll order you a new one immediately! I’ll p-put in the order right away!” Golden thought the poor thing was going to have a break down, so she reached forward and caught the pony by the shoulders. “Calm down.” The mare wouldn’t look her in the eyes. “I’m calm… I-I’m perfectly calm!” Golden touched her cheek, forced her to look directly at her. There was such terror in those eyes. The mare’s lips worked and tears came to her eyes as she clutched the dress close. “P… P-please don’t fire me…” It took all Golden had not to laugh at the seriousness of that statement. She closed her eyes and sucked in a controlling breath, her shoulders shaking from the effort. At last she managed a comforting smile. “It’s just a dress. Nopony’s getting fired.” The mare stared with wide eyes for several seconds… then her face lit up. “R-really?” This time Golden did laugh, though she managed to keep it down to a small giggle. “It was an accident, nothing to fuss over. I’m not going to fire you over such an innocent mistake.” She blinked, her ears perking at the sound of her own voice. It was so… feminine. The mare’s entire body sagged. “Oh, thank Celestia! I m-mean, thank you, Miss de Lis. I promise, I’ll send this back to...” She paused to look up at the name above the dresses. “To Miss Rarity later today.” Golden waved a dismissive hoof. “That works.” The mare raised an eyebrow at the phrase. “Umm… good. I’ll see to it, then.” She glanced at the vanity. “Are you ready for your morning appointment?” Golden cocked her head. “Umm… appointment?” The mare studied her confused face. She shifted from hoof to hoof, chewed her lip… and finally dared to ask, “Rough night?” Golden set a hoof to her face and sneered. “It… didn’t go as planned. “Wait…” She lowered her hoof to stare at the mare. She looked back at the vanity, gazing into her new violet eyes. She brought her forehooves up, moved them experimentally. It all felt so vivid. And this mare she didn’t know, just showing up out of the blue and acting so naturally… She didn’t think she had the imagination needed to just conjure up a pony at random like this. In fact this was nothing like her usual… “Oh, sweet merciful Goddess.” She turned to the pony, heart pounding in her chest. “Th-this isn’t a dream, is it?” The mare perked an ear. “A dream, Miss de Lis?” “Stop calling me that!” Fleur moved to the vanity and found the letter, knocking over a few more bottles in her hurry. She read its contents again. FC… Who was FC? What was happening to her? “Miss de Lis, are you alright?” Fleur gazed at the mare at her side with wide eyes, her breath coming in a quick rhythm. “I… I don’t…” The pony fidgeted and ducked her head slightly. “You don’t want me to cancel your appointment… do you?” Golden fought to regain control of her breathing. “Wh-what appointment?” “The photo shoot?” The mare tilted her head. “You know, at Sir Fancy Pants’ mansion?” “Photo shoot.” Golden turned back to the letter, once more reading its contents. “I… I…” Her eyes locked onto some choice words: Whoever you are, don’t leave Canterlot. Help is on the way. Canterlot. Fancy Pants lived in Canterlot, right? And… yes, she’d met him before. He’d been the one to arrange that romantic setup for that first beautiful date with Rarity. They were friends. Golden could really, really use the help. There was no other pony she knew – well, she didn’t exactly know him, but an acquaintance was close enough, right? Maybe he could help her make sense of things. At the very least he could help her get back in contact with Rarity, and she would still be in Canterlot for whoever wrote the letter… “N-no…” She turned to her – attendant? – and shook her head. “No, let’s keep the appointment.” The mare heaved a deep sigh. “Okay… good. We’ll need to leave within the next fifteen minutes to make it on time.” “Oh…” Golden ran a hoof through her luxurious but unkempt mane. “I guess I’d best brush up.” “Yes, ma’am. If it pleases you, I’ll go ahead and gather the necessary products and makeup; I believe we agreed to let the photographer’s assistants handle that part of the job, as she has a specific style in mind.” Good Goddess, Golden hadn’t had makeup applied professionally since… well, now that she thought about it, it had only happened once. “Umm… yeah. That’ll do.” Golden’s hoof shook as she reached for one of the half-dozen brushes on the vanity, her attendant gathering up bottles. It felt so… awkward, carrying something in a hoof that wasn’t her own. How had this happened? Why was she here? Where was Rarity? Why did she end up in the body of Fleur de Lis of all ponies? “Trouble with the horn, miss?” “Hmm…?” Golden noted her attendant’s worried gaze, then recalled that she was supposed to be a unicorn now. Her cheeks grew hot as she noted the long horn in the mirror. “Um… yes?” Her attendant averted her eyes. “Would you like me to schedule an appointment with your physician?” “N-no.” Golden offered a weak smile. “No thanks. I’ll be fine, just need a break from the magic is all.” “Umm, if you say so.” Her attendant had a dozen bottles floating over her head. “I’ll just get these into the carriage, then. Be back in a moment.” “Of course.” Golden waved her off, her smile cracking at the sight of her own pale hoof. Cheeks still red, she waited until the unicorn was gone before setting the brush back on the desk. She stared at it for several seconds, willing it to move. If she could just… She ground her teeth as her lips worked. “Move… Come on, move.” The brush remained perfectly still. She leaned her head back with a frustrated sigh. “I’m going to make this poor pony look like a foal…” Which spawned a question that should have been obvious: If she was in Fleur’s body… did that mean Fleur was in hers? Fleur let out a long groan, reaching a hoof up to rub her aching head. Whatever she was lying on was as hard as a rock… Her brain went through its typical morning routine. Cover first: did she have any appointments? Yes, she was supposed to go to a photo shoot at Fancy’s. That was most welcome; Fancy always had the best jobs for her. Anything else? Hmm… ah, yes, a meeting with three competing designers. That would be interesting, to say the least… frustrating, but interesting. That was all she had for today, wasn’t it? It was set to be busy with her real job, though. Speaking of which, what Archon work did she have— Archons. The Ring! Fleur’s eyes flashed open as the memory of the previous night shot back into her throbbing skull. She found herself staring up at a bland stone ceiling. She sat up, eyes wide as she quickly took in her surroundings. In an instant she registered the metal bars of a cell, the cracks in the walls, the bowl of old carrots in the corner, the loose toilet against a moldy wall. Fleur’s head dropped back in a long, low moan. “Ooooooohhh… buck!” She pressed her hooves against her face and fell back on the slab. How could she possibly be in a dungeon? She heard a whistle and grimaced; she knew a cat-call when she heard it. The direction of the sound indicated the pegasus in the cell opposite hers was the source. “Unless you want to stay in that cell for the rest of your wretched, flea-infested, backwards life you will not do that again.” She heard the stallion snicker and whistle again. Fleur sat up to glare at the pegasus, who smirked from his cell. She was just starting to wonder which humiliating spell she would use on him when something drifted over her eyes. It was her own mane… but it was blue. She took a sharp intake of breath as she recalled her last memories of the night before. She raised her hooves and saw that they were short and also blue. Oh no… what had that foal Caballeron done ? She stepped off the slab, grimacing at what she considered the clunkiness of her new body shape. How did shorter ponies get used to moving around on these legs? Glowering, she made her way to the water bowl in the corner and looked at her own reflection. Trixie Lulamoon stared back, lips set in a sneer and eyes burning with anger. “No need to get yourself all prettied up for me.” Fleur cast her glare upon the pegasus opposite her. “Excuse me?” He grinned and patted his own flank in demonstration. “I’ll take ya as ya are.” Fleur considered him for a few seconds… then gained a wry smile. “You like what you see, do you?” He reared up to press his hooves against the bars and peer at her with a lecherous smile. Her horn began to glow – with a lot more force than she intended – and she raised a hoof to her lips. She blew him a kiss and a small, pink cloud shaped like lips floated across the bars to land right on his waiting smirk. He collapsed to the floor in an instant, body heaving the slow breaths of slumber. “Hmmph.” Fleur shot him a superior, high browed frown before turning away. “Simpleton.” But now her curiosity had been piqued. She eyed her – Trixie’s – reflection in the water once more, her gaze locking on that small horn. She concentrated on forming a simple glow spell… and had to cover her eyes against the glare! She cut the spell off, grateful for the soothing darkness. Once her vision had cleared, she took another look in the water. She tried to process what had just happened, eyes crossed as she studied her horn a bit more. All the records indicated that Trixie was a very weak mage… so what was this little discovery? Seeking another test, she turned and set her concentration on the slumbering pegasus. She focused on lifting his tail. He flew up to the ceiling, his rump smacking against the hard stone. Fleur gaped, the magic disappearing with an audible pop, and the stallion fell with a thud. Fleur winced at what had to have been a painful landing… but he just kept snoozing. She peered at him, amazed that the impacts hadn’t interrupted his sleep. Had her knockout spell been boosted, too? She shook her head with force; why was she wasting time with this? Dr. Caballeron could be making off with her Ring of Mudarra! If her boss knew she’d failed on what should have been a simple mission… She focused her attention on the food bowl; it floated to the ceiling with a clang. Grimacing, she worked on gradually reducing the power of the levitation spell. After a few seconds the bowl began to lower. Once it was at a height level with her head she began banging it on the metal bars. She pounded and pounded, the metal whacking in a constant rhythm as she glared in the direction she knew the guard door to be in. Seconds passed without a response, but they couldn’t ignore her forever. She glanced at the bowl and saw that it was bending from the impacts. Not her intention, but not important either. She pursed her lips as the guards blatantly refused to listen. If they wouldn’t come to this… She closed her eyes and cast a more complex audio augmentation spell— Fleur fell to her belly and covered her ears as the last clang erupted in her eardrums! She trembled at the sheer intensity of the sound, her ears ringing for several long seconds and her teeth clamped tight. By Luna’s sparkling mane, she was never going to try that again! “Goddess be damned, lady, we hear you!” Well, at least it was effective. Fleur climbed to her hooves – Trixie’s hooves; seeing their blue color was a grim reminder – and turned back to the cell bars. Her words caught in her throat at the sight of the two agents who had assisted her in Ponyville the night before, except now they were dressed as guards. “What are you two doing here? Did you get the Ring?” The younger stallion glowered at her. “You’re still on about that? Look—” The older one set a hoof to his companion’s shoulder. “Not another word. Go back to our game; maybe by the time I get through here you’ll have finally made a move.” “Come off it,” the younger stallion grumbled. “Who cares if she knows? She’ll have her memories wiped by the princess, anyway.” “Call it practice.” The older stallion waved him off. “I’ll deal with this one.” The younger stallion rolled his eyes with a sneer and moved for the door. “Whatever, just make sure she doesn’t pull crap like that again.” Fleur growled at his back. “Don’t you walk away from me. When I get out of here I swear to Luna you are both going to rue this moment!” The door closed with a bang, and Fleur could only bristle. She jerked her head towards the remaining stallion, who sighed and shook his head. “Don’t mind him, he’s a rookie.” He sat and made a welcoming gesture. “What can I do for you, Miss Lulamoon?” Fleur locked him with her harshest glare. “I am not that incapable foal! I am Fleur de Lis, Archon Lieutenant, and you will treat me with the respect my position demands.” The Archon huffed a small laugh and gestured with his head to the door. “That guy has a picture of Fleur de Lis. Apparently he’s quite the fan. Judging by what I know and what I’m seeing, there’s no way you’re her. Why would you come up with something so blatant?” “You foal.” Fleur’s lips pulled back with a very un-ladylike snarl. “Do you even know what the Ring of Mudarra is? That felon Caballeron activated it!” The stallion examined the bottom of his hoof as if bored. “I’ve never heard of this ‘Ring of Mulberry,’ or whatever it is. Don’t much care for jewelry; I spend too many bits on that junk for my wife, I certainly—” “Be silent.” Fleur rubbed her head in both hooves with a groan. “Why are you feigning ignorance? You think I do not know how it works? The Mane Archon is expecting me to report the acquisition of the Ring of Mudarra this morning, and heads will roll if we fail him!” The old stallion let out another huff. “You’ve got quite the imagination, Miss Lulamoon. Archons and magical rings, please. You write in your spare time, oh Great and Powerful one?” Fleur slammed her forehooves against the cells and glared fire. “Stop pretending to be an idiot! Contact Fine Crime, tell him what has happened! We need to get the Ring of Mudarra back and undo what’s been done! If we don’t fix this within twenty-four hours of transference we can’t go back!” The stallion emitted a long yawn and turned away. “That’s it, I’ve heard enough. Let me know when you’re ready to start making sense.” “I am making sense!” Fleur’s horn sparked as she watched him go. “How many ponies even know Fine Crime’s name? You know I’m telling the truth! I’ll have your head for insubordination!” He paused just at the edge of her visible range. “Maybe I do know that all you’re saying is true. Maybe I think it’s all a bunch of horse manure. Who knows? But I can tell you one thing, Miss Lulamoon...” He rolled his head back to offer a smug smile. “If I happened to believe your story, it would give me great pleasure to know that you’re suffering from exactly what you planned to put an innocent mare through.” Fleur’s jaw dropped as he waved and disappeared through the door, which closed with a resounding bang. “Y-you… insubordinate…” Her lips trembled, her heart pounded in her chest. Her entire body began to shake and her vision turned red. “Come back here! I am Fleur de Lis, apprentice to Fine Crime, Archon Lieutenant of Canterlot! I will not be stuck in this pathetic pony’s body for the rest of my days, do you hear me?” Not even bothering to use her magic, she lifted the already battered bowl and began banging it against the bars once more. “When Fine hears what you’ve done he will personally roast you both! You can’t do this to me! Let me out, let me out, let me the buck out!” All sense and logic gone, Fleur reared back and fired a thick sphere of energy. It hit the cell bars… ...which she remembered at the last second were magic-proofed. The eruption was reflected back into the cell, sending her flying to smack against the back corner. She collapsed to the floor with vision white and ears ringing, her entire body burning from the magical energies she’d unleashed. It had been so much stronger than even her rage-induced mind had intended. For several seconds she only sat there, back against the wall and unable to move for the pain. Her body slid sideways until she was lying on her side, legs shifting in small, jerky motions. At last her vision and hearing cleared… and her gaze locked upon her blue legs. Trixie’s legs. “L-let me out.” She tried to sit up, but her forehooves slipped and she fell. Her eyes went to the cell bars once more, still smoking as magenta sparks drifting through the air. “Let me out. Please… I can’t stay in this body...” She rolled painfully onto her back and covered her face. How could he do this to her? He knew what was at stake, and yet he was keeping her locked up? Didn’t he know Fine would be furious? Did he not know that everything she’d worked for in the past ten years would be for nothing? “Oh Goddess…” Her head fell back against the floor. “If Trixie’s in my body… how much damage is she doing to my modeling career right now?” She thought on that for a few seconds, then covered her face in her hooves a second time. “I’m doomed…” Trixie’s slumber was interrupted by a knock on her bedroom door. She grumbled, turned away and pulled the covers over her head. With any luck her house-mate would get the message and go away. The knock came again, prompting Trixie to curl up in a tight ball and cover her ears. She hated that chipper, ‘rise up and meet the day’ attitude Amethyst possessed. This time the knock was accompanied by a call. “Sis? You okay? It’s not like you ta be so late.” ‘Sis?’ Since when did Amethyst call her that? At last Trixie threw off the covers and sat up, rubbing her blurry eyes. “Alright, already, Trixie gets it.” She paused. That voice… wasn’t hers. “Who the hay’s Trixie?” She winced; another well-planted barb from her ever-witty landlord. Trixie heaved a sigh and bowed her head… and saw orange. “Wha…?” She raised her hooves, staring at them with wide eyes. Orange. How could they be… Had Amethyst pulled some prank and dyed Trixie’s coat orange in her sleep? She wouldn’t put it past the accursed mare. “AJ?” Now that Trixie was awake, she also noted that the voice behind the door didn’t belong to Amethyst. It sounded like a filly. Come to think of it… this wasn’t her room. Her head spun about as she observed plain wooden walls, rather ugly curtains and some antique-looking furniture. It wasn’t a bad room – it was definitely better than what she was used to. And the bed sure was comfy… “Ah’m comin’ in, okay?” The door opened to reveal a small yellow filly with a red mane. The filly looked up at Trixie and heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh, good, yer awake. You comin’ down fer breakfast or what?” “Breakfast?” Trixie tilted her head at the filly. She looked vaguely familiar. She didn’t know where she was or why, but having a breakfast other than Amethyst’s terrible cooking would be a welcome relief. “S-sure… Trixie will be there shortly.” The filly raised an eyebrow. “Oookay, then. Ya might wanna bow out the next time ya go ta one of them fancy parties, AJ. Come on down when yer ready; Granny Smith’s makin’ pancakes.” Trixie watched the filly leave, questions swimming through her head. Why was she being referred to as ‘sis’ and ‘AJ?’ This was turning into a very confusing morning, and she hadn’t even stepped out of bed yet. Sighing, Trixie looked about the room one more time… and spotted a mirror over the dresser. Well, she might as well assess the damage of this little color prank. She slipped off the bed, noting how the floor creaked beneath her hooves. There was something strange in her stance, something that made her feel… she settled on ‘sturdy,’ for lack of a better word. She raised her leg to study it more closely, noting with wide eyes that her musculature was far more defined. She looked downright buff. What was going on here? Trixie walked to the mirror… and found herself gazing into the freckled face of Applejack. She stared for several long seconds, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. She blinked; the reflection did, too. She lifted a leg and saw the motion in the mirror. What in the name of— Her eyes locked on her forehead. She shrieked. She grasped at her head, eyes wide and pupils small. Nothing, there was nothing there! “My… m-my horn…” “AJ!” She spun about to find a massive red stallion in the doorway. “What’s wrong?” For several seconds she could only gape at him and sputter. “I… I-I… N-nothing. I just… umm… just hit my funny bone on the dresser.” She rubbed her elbow with a fragile smile, tears forming on her cheeks. “I’m f-fine, don’t worry.” The stallion raised an eyebrow. “Ya sure?” “I’m fine.” Trixie turned away from him so that he couldn’t see her smile collapse. “Why don’t you go down and have some pancakes?” She could sense his lingering presence behind her. Emotions were swirling through her head in a chaotic turmoil and all she wanted was for him to leave! “Alright, AJ, if ya say so.” She heard him exit the room, albeit slowly. Trixie stared at her forehead in the mirror, eyes moist and an empty feeling in her gut. Her horn… her beautiful horn! It was the only thing she had, the only thing she could rely on. If she didn’t have her horn, what was she? “Oh, merciful Luna…” She noted the dresser and focused on one of the drawers. It ignored her commands and remained firmly shut. The air left Trixie’s lungs in a single swift gasp. She fell to a sitting position and held her head in her hooves. “No. No no no… Th-this can’t happen. I can’t lose it. Wh-what am I… No, where am I?” She jumped to her hooves and went to the window, wincing against the bright morning sunlight as she pulled the curtains aside. She set her forehooves to windowsill and gazed out at a pristine farm scene: a massive red barn, plowed fields, pigs and sheep. And apple orchards. So many big, bountiful trees! This had to be Sweet Apple Acres. Trixie had never visited it before, but she’d known of it from her previous visits to the region. Of course. If she was Applejack, why wouldn’t she be here? But why was she Applejack? She spotted a town in the distance. She realized instantly that it was Ponyville, and that sudden understanding rendered her mind numb. She fell back from the window and dropped to her belly, covering her face in trembling hooves. “Oh Goddess, I’ve done it again! I screwed things up. I don’t even know how I screwed things up, but I did! H-how am I going to recover from this?” She was just trying to earn some desperately needed bits… Trixie lay there for several long minutes, fighting to recover her wits. It wasn’t easy; her mind kept circling back to how she’d clearly made a mess of things in Ponyville for a third time. Twice she’d made national headlines, and if she’d just done something to one of the Element-bearers… Forget her career. Even if she wasn’t jailed, she’d never be able to find any jobs after this. And if she didn’t turn in the bits tomorrow… What would she do? Where would she live? How would she earn her daily bread? She longed to be somewhere else, to be somepony else! She would give anything to not be this pathetic… to just have one day as an ordinary pony, one whose soiled reputation didn’t follow her everywhere she went… “Applejack! Ya better get down here before Big Mac eats your share of the pancakes!” “Eeeyup!” Trixie’s mind went blank. She lifted her head from the floor and stared at her orange hooves. She lifted one up, rotated it back and forth studiously. Applejack. She stood and went to the dresser, gazing upon a freckled, tear-streaked face that wasn’t her own. No… she couldn’t. She shouldn’t. But… one day wouldn’t hurt... would it? Besides, Applejack was probably in Trixie’s body right at this moment and was probably working her way back to the farm. That made sense, to come back to where her own body would most likely be. Trixie could… she could wait for her. She might arrive at any minute in Trixie’s body. Trixie could pretend to be Applejack for a little while, couldn’t she? No harm done. Just… forget the worries. For a short time. Applejack was reputed to be a kind pony. She’d understand, surely. Trixie gazed at her new face, heart pounding in her chest as the thoughts tumbled and tossed about her mind. She could. … She should. One day wouldn’t hurt. She sucked down a deep breath and turned for the door. “You can do this, Trix. How hard can pretending to be a country bumpkin be?” Trixie paused in the hallway, spotted and went for the stairs. She could hear Applejack’s family in the kitchen. Her pace slowed once she approached the door, though; what would she say? What would she do? Just walk in and sit down? The sweet aroma of syrup hit her nostrils and her stomach growled. “Ah, there’s Applejack,” an elderly voice said from within the kitchen. Trixie cocked her head with an amused smile and – taking one last moment to gather her courage – entered the kitchen. It was a modestly sized room, but nicely furnished. The red stallion – Big Mac, she imagined – was sitting opposite her and gobbling down a massive stack of pancakes as if his life depended on it. The small filly was just settling down with her own plate, followed by an aged green mare Trixie assumed was Granny Smith. She hadn’t heard the filly’s name yet… “Well, good mornin’ sleepin’ beauty.” Granny Smith flashed a grin. “Thought ya’d sleep ‘till the cows came home.” “Are ya okay, sis?” The filly studied her with big, fretful eyes. “Ya had us real worried after last night.” Trixie moved a little too quickly to sit at the table, a stack of syrup-coated pancakes already waiting for her. She fought to offer a smile. “Umm… What happened last night?” “We thought you’d tell us,” Granny Smith replied. “Miss Rarity came by with ya and that Golden filly out like lights.” The filly nodded quickly. “She looked like she’d been through a Timberwolf attack! She said somethin’ about Trixie before leavin’ with Golden.” “D-did she, now?” Trixie was going to hide her anxiety by eating some pancakes… only to notice there were no forks or knives on the table. It took her a couple seconds – and an uncertain glance around the table at the eating habits of her ‘family’ – to realize she wasn’t expected to use one. Sighing, she focused on the top pancake. It ignored her. Trixie facehooved – right, no horn. Oh, they were waiting for an answer, weren’t they? “Tri… I don’t remember what happened to knock me out. I was having too much fun… I guess?” “Fun?” The filly raised a questioning eyebrow. “Umm… yeah. Lots of it.” Trixie dodged by leaning forward and taking her first bite of pancake. Her taste buds were assaulted by sweet, apple-flavored goodness that almost made her eyes water. She swallowed quickly and let out a contented sigh. “Sweet Luna, those are some good pancakes!” “Why, thank ya, Applejack,” Granny Smith replied through the mass of syrup covering her lips and chin. “So how much did yer items go fer at the auction?” Trixie’s mouth fell open as she stared blankly at her ‘gandmother.’ “Uh…” Her mind fought frantically for some kind of solution. “I… uh… I guess I got knocked out before the auction was over, ‘cause I didn’t find out.” Big Mac raised an eyebrow. “Ya guess?” Trixie rubbed the back of her head with a blush. “Hehe… it’s all something of a blur.” “Ah dunno what you were doin’ at that auction,” the filly declared, “but somethin’ tells me ya really shouldn’t go to one again. Yer even talkin’ all funny.” “Am I?” Trixie let out a weak laugh. “Don’t worry… little filly, I’ll be back on my hooves in no time!” Or as soon as Applejack showed up in Trixie’s real body… The filly crossed her hooves and pouted. “Ah’m not a little filly…” “Of course ya aren’t, Apple Bloom.” Granny Smith offered Trixie a wink even as she patted the filly’s head. “Well, ya’ll best eat up. Lots of chores ta be doin’ today, ya’ll have ta get an early start.” Oh… chores. Trixie fidgeted and glanced towards the nearest window, her eyes falling on the orchard in the distance. What exactly was she expected to do? There was a time when she would have bemoaned such manual labor, but under the circumstances she would be happy to try just about anything. Who knows, maybe she’d be able to land a job here when it was all over… …then again, that probably wasn’t going to happen. Even so, Trixie knew absolutely nothing about farm work. Well, she knew a bit about rock farms, but this was a wholly different beast. They would expect her to already know… everything. How was she going to get out of this one? She took a few more bites of pancake, savoring the taste even as she grimaced at the syrup on her cheeks. She fought to ignore it – as Applejack no doubt would have – and tried to think of what she was going to do. She eyed the big brother. He was a fine specimen of a stallion, but Trixie didn’t see anything about him that would help her out of her current predicament. Her eye roamed to Granny Smith… but quickly threw out anything that might involve her. The mare was clearly too old for typical farm work and would undoubtedly be an expert; if anypony would recognize Trixie’s ignorance, it was her. That left… Apple Bloom, was it? Could she form a plan around the filly? Maybe. She would be the least knowledgeable; she’d probably be considered a mere trainee at her age. And given her momentary disdain for being called a ‘little filly’… But that displeasure was long gone now as Apple Bloom spoke eagerly to her grandmother about something called a ‘crusade’ she was planning for the weekend. An idea stirred in Trixie’s mind. She waited until they were all done eating. Granny Smith saw to the cleanup as Big Mac and Apple Bloom made their way outside to start their chores. Trixie followed, chewing her lip and hoping this idea of hers would work. “Apple Bloom?” The filly looked over her shoulder. “What’s up, sis?” Trixie had been thinking on her idea throughout breakfast, and by now knew exactly what she wanted to say. “I was thinking I might test your knowledge. …as an Apple, that is.” Apple Bloom tilted her head, turning to face her sister properly. “Test my knowledge at what now?” Trixie grinned, though deep down she was a nervous wreck. “Being a farmer, of course. I’m sure you know a lot, but how much do you really know?” The filly smirked. “Come on, sis, Ah reckon Ah know as much as you do about farmin’.” Aha, Trixie had her! “And you’re going to prove it to me.” “How?” Trixie dropped low so her face was even with Apple Bloom’s. “I’m going to pretend to be a brand new helper from… say… Manehatten. I don’t know anything about apple farming, and you—” she tapped the filly’s chest, “—are going to teach me.” Apple Bloom stared blankly at her for a moment, then reared back to point at Trixie. “Yer on! It’s not every day Ah get ta boss my big sister around. This’ll be great!” Trixie stood tall and grinned, both for the filly’s enthusiasm and a bit of self-satisfaction. “It sure will. I’m gonna pretend to know absolutely nothing, so you best be ready to correct me!” “This is the best idea ever!” Apple Bloom began bouncing a circle around Trixie, a big grin on her face. “Who knows? Ah might even get me a trainer cutie mark!” “Ya just might,” Trixie agreed, awkwardly trying the accent out on her tongue. It felt odd… but she had to at least try before they really thought something was wrong. “So, what’s first?” “Oh, oh, we gotta prep the apple cart! This way, rookie.” Trixie watched the filly gallop towards the barn with a smirk and internally patted herself on the back. This wasn’t going to be as hard as she’d feared. All she had to do was keep it up until Applejack arrived. Trixie had only a moment to wonder where Applejack was with her body before remembering to follow after Apple Bloom. Applejack realized at some point that she was awake and – as usual – immediately went over the checklist of chores in her head. Hmm… today was going to be a busy day. Still, if her internal clock was accurate, she still had a half hour to go at least before she needed to get up. This in mind, she snuggled a little more under her covers with a pleased smile. Something shifted next to her… and a pair of forelegs wrapped about her chest. Huh… maybe she wasn’t awake after all. How could anypony be in her bed otherwise? And holding her close, for that matter. Applejack didn’t usually have dreams like this… although there was one mare who’d been stuck in her head for the past few months. She felt the gentle tickling of a muzzle on her neck, and her heart skipped a beat. A teasing breath of warm air hit her ear, making it twitch as a tingle ran down her spine. “Finally awake, darling?” Applejack smiled contentedly as she recognized that voice. If this was a dream, she hoped nopony woke her up. “Oh, Ah’m awake, alright,” she whispered, her eyes flitting open. She was looking at frou-frou purple walls, disorganized fashion tools and half-finished dresses. Her eyes went wide as she noted the perfect clarity of what she was seeing. Her focus homed in on the bright red comforter with its white trim. She was awake. Heart locked in her throat, Applejack very slowly lifted the comforter with one hoof and looked down to find two pearly hooves rubbing her chest. Applejack rolled over just enough to look over her shoulder. Her mind went numb at the sight of sleepy, luscious blue eyes and a gentle smile. “R-R… R-Rarity?” Rarity snuggled up against her, and Applejack’s cheeks burned. “Do forgive me for being so bold, darling.” Rarity lifted herself up so her face was just before Applejack’s, their muzzles just barely touching and her alluring eyes completely filling the dumbfounded mare’s vision. “But the way you rushed to my defense against that vagabond… I just had to reward you.” Applejack licked her lips, eyes wide as saucers. “Reward…?” “Why, our first ‘sleepover’, of course.” The gorgeous unicorn gave her a peck right on the lips; Applejack thought her heart might pound its way out of her chest. Rarity grinned and rested her head on Applejack’s chest. “Oooh, listen to that rhythm! Why Golden, I do believe you’re excited.” Golden? Applejack tensed as white hooves were once against wrapped about her. Rarity let out a small sigh. “I wish that foul Trixie hadn’t shown up at the auction. I had so much planned for that night.” Her voice became silky smooth. “You only think your heart’s beating fast now.” Applejack raised her hooves as though to defend herself. “R-Rarity? Ah’m just a little confused…” Rarity lifted herself up to hover over Applejack. “You’re okay, are you not? That witch didn’t really hurt you, did she?” “W-witch?” Rarity nodded, rubbing Applejack’s cheek with a touch like the softest velvet. “When I found you and the other ponies knocked unconscious, I was so worried! But you were still breathing, so I…” She blushed. “I… decided to take you home for a little ‘personal’ care.” She lowered to rest her head on Applejack’s shoulder and nuzzle the pony’s neck. A shiver ran down Applejack’s spine as her mind frantically sought some kind of clarity. Okay… so she was in Rarity’s bed. Getting snuggled – which felt wonderful – and praised. This wasn’t a bad thing. On the contrary, it was a dream come true! Why would Rarity bring her here and not Golden? Applejack didn’t want to complain – being cuddled by the prettiest mare in Ponyville was not something to complain about – yet something about this felt… off. Delightful as it was having Rarity tracing a line against her chest with a hoof… Applejack sucked in a deep breath and bit her lower lip as she felt a nibble on her ear. She shouted and all but leapt out of the bed, but her hooves got tangled in the sheets and she hit the floor with a loud thunk. “Oh my goodness! Are you alright?” Applejack twisted about and untangled her legs just in time to see Rarity gazing with wide eyes at her over the bed. Eagerness, confusion and a smidgeon of terror drove Applejack to jump to her hooves and walk backwards from the pony of her dreams. “N-now Rare, this is really nice and appreciated and all that, but Ah—” Her words died on her lips. She’d lifted her leg as a precaution in case the mare tried to come closer, and only now did she notice her color. She was yellow. “What the…” She studied both hooves with wide eyes. Almost instinctually, she grabbed her mane and pulled it forward enough to find that her long blonde ponytail had been replaced with orange curls. She could only gape at them in a speechless stupor. “Golden?” Rarity stepped off the bed, eyes soft with concern. “Whatever is the matter?” “Ah… uh…” Applejack’s head flung about as she searched for a proper statement. Her eyes locked on the bathroom door. “Uh… give me a moment!” She retreated into the bathroom with a speed that probably would have impressed even Pinkie Pie. The door closed behind her, Applejack rushed to the mirror and gawked as Golden Harvest stared back at her. Her heart pounded as she felt at her face. “Wh-what happened ta me?” “Golden?” There came a knock on the door. “Ah’m okay!” Applejack backed from the door, her breath coming in quick gasps. “J-just… I’ll be out in a jiffy!” She closed her eyes and sucked in a long, calming breath. Oh please, oh please… She turned her head and cracked open one eye. She had carrots on her flank. A weak, whispered cry escaped her throat. She collapsed to her haunches, her lips trembling and her mind trying to piece things together. She was Golden. How was that even possible? It had to have something to do with last night. What happened last night? Auction… jealousy… anger… Trixie… Trixie. This had to be her doing! But to what end? “Golden? Did I… do something wrong?” The chaos of thoughts came to a screeching halt. Applejack stared at the door and suddenly realized exactly how this looked. A new thought came to mind: this would be the perfect opportunity to get the attention she really wanted from the mare! A second thought came just as quickly: how could she possibly abuse Rarity’s feelings like that? “…Golden?” Applejack whacked herself on the head and moved to the door, opening it with a jerk. She sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of Rarity. The pony’s head was bowed, her beautiful blue eyes moist and filled with fear as she turned them up to Applejack’s face. The expression – combined with her sleep-disheveled mane – was enough to break Applejack’s heart. “No.” She reached a trembling hoof forward and rubbed Rarity’s cheek. “No, ya didn’t do nothin’ wrong. Ah was just… Ah didn’t expect this. Ah didn’t know how ta respond. Ah’m sorry, Rarity…” Rarity rubbed her eyes and struggled to offer a smile. “I g-guess I was too forward, wasn’t I? I just thought…” Applejack’s mind was running rampant again, this time trying to find some way to fix this situation. After a few seconds she did the only thing she could come up with that didn’t seem entirely crazy; she embraced Rarity. “No, ya weren’t too forward. It was just right. Ah didn’t mean ta freak like that.” Her heart pounded in her chest as Rarity wrapped her in a tight hug and rested her head against her chest. Her eyes darted about; she couldn’t escape this terrifying sensation that Golden might find them like this at any second. “Oh,” Rarity whispered, “there’s my favorite little drum again.” All the fears and anxiety fled Applejack’s mind. She stared down at the mare and realized that for now, in this moment… Rarity was hers. She really didn’t want to let go. Rarity sucked in a sharp breath as Applejack tightened her hold and rested her muzzle on the mare’s neck. She breathed deep to savor Rarity’s delightful, rosy fragrance. She was so pretty, so desireable. The words came out unbidden. “Yer mine… Yer… Yer all mine…” Those beautiful blues locked with hers, that indescribably pretty face smiled. There was so much love there. Applejack thought her heart might burst! “Of course I am,” Rarity cooed, raising her muzzle to Applejack’s ear. “My golden princess.” Applejack’s eyes went wide, her throat constricted. Even as Rarity began kissing her neck, there was only one thing that she could think of: She was Golden Harvest. Applejack’s hooves shook, her breath came in quick gasps. She wanted this so much, but if she took it… Could she take it? Was that even an option? But… but Rarity didn’t love her. Suddenly the kisses stopped, Rarity stepping back with a hoof on her chest and eyes fluttering. “Oh, but that is an intoxicating feeling.” Applejack half-raised her hoof as if to reach for the pony. She spoke without thinking, “W-why stop?” Rarity at last recovered her breath. She offered a wry smile and batted her eyes. “Because I am a lady and a professional, and I’ve lost a lot of time tending to you.” She pouted, cheeks going red but her eyes no less eager than before. “I wanted to do so much more last night. If only that foul Trixie hadn’t shown up.” She shook her head with a determined, haughty frown. “No matter. It will just have to wait for our—” she offered a wry wink, “—vacation.” Applejack blinked even as her cheeks burned. “What vacation?” Rarity toyed with her mane in a distracted fashion and averted her gaze. “I meant to tell you last night after the auction… but I guess now will have to do. I’ve arranged something special, a two week stay in the one place we both want to visit!” She grinned at Applejack, eyes shining. Applejack worked her lips as she realized she was supposed to guess the destination. “Umm… ya… ya don’t mean…” “That’s right!” Rarity sat to clap her hooves. “Prance! The nation of lovers, can you believe it? It’s precisely why I’ve been so busy these past two months, I was saving up for the trip and getting all my orders done ahead of time.” Applejack’s jaw went lose; she’d arranged a trip like that? For Golden? “Hah, speechless.” Rarity giggled and brushed her unkempt mane aside with a haughty pose. “Yes, I do have that effect on ponies.” She moved in to press against Applejack… who was suddenly feeling ill. “I’m so sorry I haven’t had time for us,” Rarity whispered in her ear. “I know it’s been bothering you, but I just knew you’d understand once I hit you with the reason. You’ve been so patient with me, and I wanted you to know…” Rarity stepped back to plant a kiss right on Applejack’s lips. Applejack’s mind went blank yet again as she savored Rarity’s taste, her legs wobbling beneath her. Her mind was a confusing craze of disgust and delight. At last Rarity released, a wicked smile on her lips as she gazed upon Applejack with very nice bedroom eyes. “…I appreciate it.” Applejack gaped, her chest light and her heart pattering. She licked her lips, the fresh taste of Rarity still present on them, and could only mutter a small “Wow…” Rarity giggled with a dainty hoof to her lips and red cheeks, but then her pout came back. “But I’m afraid I’ve got another week of toil ahead before I’m set financially for the trip. I’m so sorry, Golden, but you can wait that long, can’t you?” She added the last part with sugar in her voice and sparkling eyes: “I promise to make it up to you.” Applejack’s lips shifted into a cocked smile. “Yeah… Fer you? You bet Ah’ll wait!” “Good.” Rarity nodded her satisfaction. “Now, I need to get to work, and it’s very hard to do when you’re here. I apologize—” She waved a hoof at Applejack with a hungry grin, “—but you’re… ahem, ‘presence’ is very distracting, and I can have none of that! Shoo, leave me be before I end up pouncing on you again!” Part of Applejack was relieved that she wouldn’t have to find an excuse to escape. The other part was frantically looking for an excuse not to. She fought down such thoughts and backed her way to the bedroom door. “Y-you got it. Prance, really? That’s amazin’, Rare! You’re amazin’.” Rarity had turned away to study one of her dresses. “I am, aren’t I? Oh, but Golden? I fail to see what you think faking that accent will achieve, but do please lose it. You sound a bit too much like Applejack.” Applejack blushed and scratched the back of her head. “Oh, do Ah? Didn’t know Ah was that good at it.” She let out a weak chuckle and hoped it didn’t sound too fake. “You’re very good at it,” Rarity corrected. “It sounds very much like I’m dating one of my best friends, and that is far too awkward.” Applejack felt her heart clunk against the bottom of her hooves. “Oh…” “Indeed.” Rarity looked over her shoulder with a saucy smile. “I don’t need some southern accent, if that’s what you’re thinking. Your lovely voice works just fine.” She blew a kiss and winked. “Yeah?” Applejack forced a grin to her face as she back the rest of the way out of the room. “Th-that’s great. Yer amazin’, Rarity, really. See ya later, okay?” As soon as she was out of the mare’s sight, Applejack’s entire body slumped. She trudged her way down the stairs, dragging her heart along behind her. She could hear her heartbeat resounding in her ears almost like a lead weight on the stairs: Thump. Thump. Thump. Rarity wanted Golden. She didn’t have eyes for Applejack at all… She collapsed at the foot of the stairs and covered her face in her hooves. She knew she couldn’t fight the tears, but she fought like an Apple to keep from sobbing. What was she going to do? She wanted that pony so badly! How could she rise above Golden when she had such a clear lead? Why couldn’t she go to Prance with Rarity? Why couldn’t she have those pretty blue eyes batting her way? Why couldn’t Rarity long to hear the sound of her voice? “Why can’t it be me…?” Her ears perked at that whispered question. “Why… why can’t it be me?” Slowly, she rose from the ground, her eyes locked on her off-color hooves. Her mind circled around the idea. What bad intent, what unpleasant deception. It wasn’t like her to think such things, to so seriously consider such options. But there it was. “Why can’t it be me?” She moved slowly, as if in a trance. She passed through the door leading past the residential rooms and into the boutique, where mirrors lined the walls. She gazed at Golden’s yellow face, turned her head sideways to note her silky orange curls. Her mind reasserted the fact: she was Golden Harvest. It was Golden Harvest Rarity wanted. She jerked away from the mirror, legs locked in a wide stance as she began to hyperventilate. No, she shouldn’t be thinking such things! She was the bearer of the Element of Honesty and this was about as dishonest as a pony could be! But for Rarity’s attention… No. Applejack shook her head violently and hit herself a few times for good measure. “Yer a good pony, AJ, an’ good ponies do not abuse situations like this!” Two weeks with Rarity. As Golden Harvest. “Goddess,” she whimpered, “it just ain’t fair… Ah saw her first, fer buck’s sake…” She glanced at her reflection again. She looked so miserable. She hated what she was seeing, for such incredibly divisive reasons. She turned away, a hideous mix of shame and hate coming over her. As she did she spotted something on the counter; it was Golden’s saddlebag. Golden. Where was she? Was she in Applejack’s body? She’d… she’d want to know about the vacation. She’d want to fix this as soon as possible. Applejack knew she should be focused on that goal herself. Yet the temptation was so strong. She approached the bags. They weren’t hers… but at the same time… they were hers, right? Under the circumstances… Chewing her lip and feeling a fresh wave of guilt, Applejack opened the bags and began looking through them. She didn’t know what she hoped to find, maybe some clue as to how all of this had happened. More nefarious-minded ponies might be looking for… she didn’t know, evidence. But she was not a nefarious pony, no, she was just trying to get a better picture… Some things fell out of the bags, landing with a thunk and a clink by her hooves. Applejack stepped back to find a key and… something else on the floor. She lifted them both up and studied them. The object was circular and made of bronze. It appeared to have broken off of something. An anklet, perhaps? It looked rather old, and sort of reminded her of the drawing she’d seen in schoolbooks about the ancient Llama civilizations. What was Golden doing with something like this? Not sure if it was important, Applejack gently put it back in the bag and turned her attention to her other find. Was this the key to her home? Or perhaps something else? What would she want to lock up in a place as decent as Ponyville? If Golden was eager to return to her own body like Applejack expected, she’d probably head back to her own home in search of it. If this was the key to her home, how would she get in? Applejack realized that the equine thing to do would be to go to Golden’s place to meet her, and give her back her things – body included. But if she wasn’t there, and Applejack had the key… well, for the moment it was her home, right? And Golden wouldn’t mind if she went inside to wait rather than linger outside. That was okay, wasn’t it? Yes… she would go to Golden’s place. Maybe, if curing this situation would take a while, she could learn a little more about Golden. For Rarity’s sake. That’s all this was. Applejack repeated the thought in her mind as she left the boutique: She was doing this for Rarity.