//------------------------------//
// Poetry and Pageantry 
// Story: Cold Days and Warm Hearts 
// by moguera 
//------------------------------//

Chapter 19: Poetry and Pageantry

By the time lunch rolled around, the train carrying Applejack, Apple Bloom, Red River, and Spike had arrived, the wintersilk harvest having been successfully concluded.  The four of them were all too happy to join everypony else for lunch.
However, they, like everypony else, were shocked by the news that Scootaloo brought, namely that Shade Steel was wandering the Palace hallways as a maid.
Twilight was first to realize the reasoning behind Celestia's decision.  "You made her Princess Luna's maid, didn't you."
Celestia nodded.  "Both my sister and I thought that the most suitable punishment for a pony like Shade Steel was to remind her regularly just how badly askew her convictions were.  For the next several months, she will spend a substantial portion of every day around Luna and be forced to see for herself the lies of the Cult Solar that she so readily accepted."
"Are ya sure it's safe?" asked Applejack, "She ain't gonna try nothin'?"
Celestia explained the nature of Shade Steel's restraint collar, how it inhibited her pegasus magic and would also subdue her at the first sign of hostility.
"Well...if you're sure it's safe..." said Fluttershy demurely as she turned back to her salad.
Dawn raised a hoof.  At Celestia's nod, he posed his question.  "You say the collar will subdue Shade Steel.  But, suppose she is attacked by somepony who holds her previous allegiance against her."  His eyes flickered in the direction of Scootaloo, who had the sense to look abashed.  "Does the collar make allowances for self-defense?"
Celestia was taken aback as much by the fact that Dawn was the one asking the question as by the question itself.  After what Shade had done to him, she was amazed that Dawn would show so much concern for her wellbeing.  It may very well be Fluttershy's influence, she thought.  She certainly couldn't complain if the virtues of the Element of Kindness were among the things that Fluttershy was instilling into her son.
"To be honest," admitted Celestia, "We were worried about that.  However, both Luna and I have the fullest trust in our Guards and their ability to remain true to their duties.  The only other ponies who might pose a threat are the other servants, who have been instructed in the strictest of terms to not lay a single hoof upon Shade Steel."
Luna nodded her agreement.  "Interfering with the lawful punishment of another pony is a serious offense, which is what anypony who tried to harm Shade Steel would be doing.  We have no reason to be concerned about the masses, as Shade Steel is not permitted to leave the Palace and the nobles are far too self-absorbed to even notice her.  She shall be safe."
"Why are you so worried about her anyway?" asked Scootaloo, irritably giving voice to the question that was on everypony's mind.
Dawn shrugged.  "While I am upset about what she did to Dinky, our fight is over and I had no desire to watch her suffer."
Celestia couldn't hide her faint giggle at Dawn's response.  He certainly is Fluttershy's son.



After lunch, the rehearsals for the pageant began in earnest.  While that occupied the attentions of Twilight and the other five Element Bearers, most of the rest of the company found themselves at liberty once again.  Spike was, once again, serving as narrator for the pageant.  Surprisingly, Apple Bloom was asked to contribute to the construction of the stage and the scenery for it.
Scootaloo, Dawn, and Sweetie Belle once again set out to explore more of the Palace, with Caramel and Melon Cream in tow.  Red River and Mayweather had stayed behind to help with the rehearsal and had ended up being recruited as extras.
In spite of the fact that they'd been exploring all morning, there was no shortage of new things for the group to see as they wandered from room to room, discovering galleries of magnificent paintings seemingly around every corner.  At other times, they came face to face with massive windows that opened up to spectacular vistas of the surrounding countryside.  Granted, they also occasionally stumbled into rooms used by the nation's administrators, austere offices occupied by desks stacked with paperwork, often with ponies working quietly and efficiently behind them, ponies who didn't take well to being disturbed at their jobs, especially at this time of year, eager as they were to get home and enjoy the upcoming holiday with their own families and no thank you we would very much prefer it if you didn't make it so that we'd have to stay any longer than we already need to thank you very much.  The approach of Hearth's Warming did not mean that the arduous task of overseeing the governing of Equestria came to a halt.
Fortunately, Sweetie Belle, the only remaining member of the original Cutie Mark Crusader trio who had yet to get her cutie mark, was the only member of the group who might have been interested in trying to be a Cutie Mark Bureaucrat (Yay!).  However, as dull and uninteresting as the work looked, it certainly didn't appeal to Sweetie Belle the way some other Cutie Mark Crusader activities did.  The bold explorers quickly left the struggling office workers to their tasks and made their way to other sections of the Palace.
While traversing a hallway in one of the upper levels, Sweetie Belle came to a halt as her ears began to twitch.
"What's up?" asked Scootaloo, as she and Dawn stopped to look at Sweetie.
"I hear something," said Sweetie, her ears standing up so straight they seemed to be straining towards the ceiling.
"Huh?"  Scootaloo closed her eyes and did her best to listen.  Dawn did the same.  A few seconds later, they managed to pick up the faint strains of...something...drifting down the hallway.
"I think it's music," said Sweetie, leaning in the direction of the sound.
"Maybe it's the musicians who will be playing the music for the pageant," suggested Melon, "They probably have rehearsals of their own."
Sweetie frowned and hummed for a moment as she continued to listen to the faint melody drifting down the hallway.  "It only sounds like one pony though," she said, "It sounds...deep."
Dawn and Scootaloo shared a glance.  They could barely even hear the music being played, but had been unable to grasp any particular about it.
"Sweetie Belle!  Wait!" called Melon after Sweetie, who was already bounding off in the direction the song was originating from.  Dawn and Scootaloo gave chase, with the adults not far behind.
"I really hope we don't end up causing trouble for whoever's doing this," mused Caramel as he and Melon did their level best to keep up with the foals.
Sweetie led the group along the hallway, the music gradually growing clearer with each step they took.  Ultimately, they came to a halt outside a single small door, just one of many that lined the hall that might have led to another office or even a closet.  Only the clear strains of a stringed instrument indicated that something else would be behind the door.  Cautiously, Sweetie reached out with her magic to turn the handle.
“Wait,” said Dawn softly, “We don’t want to disturb whoever is playing.”
“B-but…”  For reasons Sweetie couldn’t explain, her curiosity had been thoroughly aroused by the beautiful sequence of notes.
“It’s okay,” said Scootaloo from Sweetie’s other side, “Let’s wait until whoever’s playing finishes the song.  Then we can go in.”  Sweetie stared at Scootaloo, a bit galled at the idea that the most impatient and hyperactive member of the original Crusaders was the one suggesting waiting.
Scootaloo merely met her gaze with a shrug.  “It’s what I do when Dawn’s practicing lightning.  It’ll probably work here too.”
Dawn nodded his agreement.  Together, the three of them settled their haunches onto the cold marble of the hallway floor and settled in to wait, just as Caramel and Melon caught up to them.  The two adults shared a confused glance before looking again at the three foals sitting on the floor, listening attentively to flowing deep notes of the instrument being played on the other side.  Listening, it was apparent that the instrument was probably a cello or something similar.
“That’s lovely,” whispered Melon.  She wasn’t much of an aficionado, but the player on the other side of the door was clearly an expert at their craft, the kind of pony with the skill to make it apparent to even the most neophyte listeners that she knew what she was doing better than most.
Caramel nodded his agreement.  He had a few cello suites amongst his own musical collection.  It was a wonderful instrument to listen to, even by itself.  It wasn’t his favorite (he favored the harpsichord, actually), but he liked it well enough to easily be able to sit through the solo performance without getting antsy.
At length the notes trailed off and silence drifted out of the room and into the hallway.  Sensing that the time had come, Sweetie cautiously turned the handle of the door and pulled it open.  The hinges didn’t offer so much as a single creak as the door moved aside and the three foals made their way into the room.
The room’s design was akin to a small amphitheater.  Three rows of benches, each one sitting a little higher than the last, were arrayed in an arc around the rear of the circular room so that all seats were angled towards the lower area that formed the stage, where a light-gray earth pony with a black mane was in the process of switching out some sheets of music, while the cello that she played rested on a stand.
Sweetie and the others quietly made their way into the room and took seats on the third and highest level of benches.  Sweetie watched carefully and intently as the gray mare finished setting out the next set of sheets.  Taking the cello from its stand, she reared up onto her hind legs, curling one fetlock around the neck whilst her other fetlock picked up the bow.  Smoothly, the mare began to draw the bow across the strings, once more sending haunting strains of music echoing throughout the room.
Sweetie closed her eyes and concentrated purely on listening, having to surpress the urge to hum along with the music, lest she break the mare’s concentration.  Instead, she let the notes roll across her mind, even though she wasn’t able to identify them with their proper names.  She listened, losing herself in the music.  As she listened, she had an idea.  Channeling her magic into her horn, she listened and let out a gentle pulse of energy in time with the mare’s playing.  It was nothing more than a pinprick of light winking on and off at the tip of her horn, but it allowed her to become completely absorbed into the rhythm of the mare’s playing.
Something occurred to her as she listened.  Sweetie had never received formal education in music.  She couldn’t read notes, she didn’t understand more than a couple of the symbols that indicated rests or stops.  But she had seen a little sheet music on occasion.  Music was a language of its own, as clear and precise as any line of text from any of Twilight Sparkle’s hundreds of accumulated tomes.  If that’s the case, instead of doing the same thing with magic that Twilight and other unicorns do, maybe I could use music to structure my magic instead.
It was an interesting thought.  Sweetie figured that it might be a good idea to bring it up to Twilight later, as Twilight might actually know something about that.
After several more minutes of playing the mare on the stage drifted to a stop and Sweetie let out a sigh that hovered somewhere between happiness and disappointment.  She couldn’t have been happier to hear such wonderful music, but, at the same time, lamented the fact that it had to have ended so quickly.
“Enjoying the show?”
Sweetie’s eyes snapped open and she realized that the gray mare on the stage was now staring directly at her with a pair of beautiful mulberry eyes.
“Oh…um…”
The mare gave Sweetie a small smile.  “When you’ve tuned your hearing as carefully as I have, you can detect the difference in acoustics of a room created by leaving a door open…”  Her smile widened slightly.  “…Or the presence of other ponies in the room.”
“Uh…sorry…” said Sweetie, painfully aware that she was the one who had drawn the cello player’s attention, “We didn’t mean to disturb you miss…”
“Octavia,” said the mare primly as she set the cello back on the stand and settled back onto her forelegs, “Octavia Melody.  And you are…?”
“Oh…I’m Sweetie Belle,” said Sweetie.
Taking their cues from Sweetie, the others introduced themselves.
“I’m terribly sorry if we disturbed you,” said Melon, “But the foals just wanted to listen more closely.”
“It’s no problem at all,” said Octavia, a faint hint of laughter in her voice, “A performer is always happy to have an audience.  Granted, I don’t usually find my personal practice sessions drawing listeners in, but it’s nice to know that I play well enough even when I’m just practicing."
"It's amazing!" exclaimed Sweetie Belle.
There was a glimmer of amusement in Octavia's mulberry-colored eyes.  "I see.  You're a music aficionado then?"
The question prompted Sweetie to stop and look away pensively.  "Um...well...I really like listening to it and singing..."
"Why don't you come down here with me," suggested Octavia, beckoning the filly, "I'd like to try something, if you don't mind.
"Uh...are you sure?" asked Sweetie, a bit nervously.
"Don't be afraid," said Octavia, still waving Sweetie down from the bench, "I think you'll like this."
"Okay..."
Sweetie stood in front of Octavia as the mare took the cello off its stand and reared up into her playing position.  "Now, I'm going to play a single note.  I want you to listen very carefully."
Sweetie nodded and lifted her ears up as high as they would go.  Octavia drew her bow across the strings, playing a single, somber note.  As the note faded into the silence of the practice room, Octavia lowered her bow and looked expectantly at Sweetie.  "Now, do you remember the sound of that note?"
Sweetie nodded fervently and Octavia continued.  "I want you to hold that note in your mind, play it over and over inside of your head."
Sweetie Belle's eyes closed as she lost herself in the task Octavia had given her.  The rest of the audience watched in silence, nopony knowing exactly what to expect.
"Now," said Octavia, "Take that sound in your head and use your magic to project it outwards."
Sweetie's face scrunched up and the tip of her horn lit up.  A second later, the air was filled with the sound of the same note that Octavia had previously played, with perfect, crystal clarity.  "I did it!" gasped Sweetie in shock.
Octavia couldn't help but smile down at the filly.  "Yes you did.  Are you ready to try something else?"
Sweetie nodded eagerly, prompting Octavia's smile to widen.  "Good.  Now I'm going to play a few notes in succession.  I want you to listen to them and do the same thing that you did with one note.  Do you think you can?"
"I can try," said Sweetie.
Octavia raised the bow again and played a sequence of three notes.  After lowering the bow, she nodded to Sweetie, who closed her eyes in concentration.  Less than a minute later, Sweetie began to play the notes, once again imitating them with perfect clarity.
"Good," said Octavia, "Ready to try a longer sequence?"
Nodding eagerly, Sweetie listened as Octavia played another, longer sequence of notes, starting with the first three she'd played last time.  Once again Sweetie, after a minute's concentration, was able to replicate the sequence.  Octavia did the same thing again, extending the number of notes further with each repetition, until Sweetie was able to reproduce a full dozen notes in sequence.
"Good," said Octavia, her voice brimming with approval as Sweetie finished.  "Now we're going to try something a little different.  I want you to play that sequence again, but I want you to play the notes according to the beat that I set."
Octavia began to tap on the floor, setting a beat for Sweetie to follow.  After a second's hesitation, Sweetie began to produce the notes again.  However, she stumbled a little and had to start over.  In the end, it took her three tries to play the notes to Octavia's rhythm.  When she succeeded, Sweetie let out an exuberant yell.
"I did it!"
"That you did," said Octavia with a smile, "Now for the last step."
"Last step?" asked Sweetie, cocking her head in confusion.
The cellist couldn't help but chuckle at the confused expression on Sweetie Belle's face.  "Yes.  There's one more thing to do.  I want you to play that sequence of notes again, to the same rhythm as last time.  However, when you get to the end, I want you to restart the sequence and play it over again.  Don't forget to keep the rhythm.  I want you to keep that up until I tell you to stop."
"O-okay..." said Sweetie.  She closed her eyes and lit her horn, the sequence of notes sounding throughout the room as she used her magic to produce the notes that Octavia had shown her.  Octavia settled back and listened as Sweetie played the sequence once...twice...three times.  When Sweetie looped back to begin the fourth repetition, Octavia once again set her bow to the strings of the cello and began to play.
Dawn, Scootaloo, Melon, and Caramel all listened in fascination as Octavia and Sweetie Belle performed together, Octavia's melody blending perfectly with and building off of the repeating sequence Sweetie played with her horn at the same time.  The song was a simple one, but pleasing to listen to.  For several minutes, Octavia and Sweetie simply played while the others listened in stunned silence.
At long last, Octavia drew her bow across the string, playing the final note.  Sweetie Belle didn't even need Octavia's prompt to stop her own playing.  "Wow!" she gasped as the last strains of Octavia's cello and her magic faded away.
"That was amazing!" exclaimed Scootaloo, jumping down from her seat.
"That was fun!" exclaimed Sweetie, grinning widely.
"I thought you might like that," said Octavia, "When you were watching me earlier, I noticed that you were using your magic to keep time with my music.  You have an excellent ear for it, given that you were able to perfectly reproduce the notes I played earlier.  I believe you could be an excellent musician in the future."
"That's..."  Sweetie's voice trailed off and her smile fell away.  "I can't..."
Octavia smiled and set aside her cello.  "What's the matter?" she asked softly, walking closer to Sweetie.
"Yeah!  Your music was amazing!" protested Scootaloo.
"Ah!"  Sweetie jumped at Scootaloo's sudden proximity.  Dawn reached out and restrained Scootaloo with a hoof on her shoulder, pulling the orange filly back to give Sweetie some more space.
Sweetie, for her part, blushed fiercely and looked at the floor, looking mortified by the attention she was receiving.  Caramel and Melon exchanged a look.  "Why don't we step outside," suggested Caramel as he and Melon shepherded the other two foals out of the room and closed the door behind them.
Once their audience was gone, Sweetie began to relax a little, but still couldn't bring herself to look up at Octavia, who was gazing contemplatively at the filly.
"I see," said Octavia softly, "So you don't like performing in public."
"Well...not really..."  Sweetie still refused to meet Octavia's eyes.  "Everypony tells me I'm really good at singing and that I have a wonderful voice.  I love listening to music and singing but, when I think about being a singer or playing music in front of an audience, it just feels...wrong for some reason."
Octavia slowly reached out with her hoof and began to gently run it through Sweetie's mane.  "I see," she said, "But when I said you could be a great musician, I didn't mean that you had to become a great performer."
"Huh?"  Sweetie blinked and finally looked up at the mare.
Octavia favored Sweetie with a warm smile.  "When you think about singing or playing, you think about doing so for an audience, in front of a crowd and that doesn't feel right to you."
Sweetie nodded.
"Then I think that is where your problem lies.  Your talent and passion both lie in music.  You love it deeply.  However, I think you are thinking about the wrong audience."
"I don't get it," said Sweetie.
"Let me put it this way," said Octavia, "I'm certain that you're perfectly fine singing in front of some ponies."
Sweetie nodded.  She'd sung for her sister on plenty of occasions.  She'd sung for her friends too, most recently during their sleepover in Dawn's quinzhee.  She'd even done a couple of solo performances for Rumble, who'd been mesmerized.
"Then it isn't a matter of you not loving music," said Octavia, "It's simply a matter of finding you the right audience."
"The right audience?" asked Sweetie.
Octavia nodded.  "Not everypony is suited to playing in a concert hall, in front of an audience of hundreds or thousands.  Sometimes, all a musician needs is for the right hoofful of ponies to hear her and see her performance.  The question you need to ask yourself is, who are you playing for?"
Sweetie blinked and sank her head pensively as she tried to figure out the answer to that question.
"You may not have found your perfect audience yet," observed Octavia, "But I think you will.  In the meantime, there's something else you can look into."
"Huh?"
"You have a potential to develop a skill that few ponies cultivate.  The fact that you can produce music with your magic shows that you understand music as a language, just as most unicorns understand magic in the terms of regular language."
"That's right," agreed Sweetie Belle, nodding eagerly.
Octavia smiled, "That opens many new avenues of learning for you.  May I ask where you're from."
"Ponyville!" exclaimed Sweetie.
That got a nod from Octavia.  "I thought so.  There's supposed to be a mare in Ponyville who's supposed to be very skilled in the field of musical magic.  She goes by the name of Vinyl Scratch.  She might be able to help you develop that skill.
"Ooh!" gasped Sweetie, "You mean DJ-Pon3!  I can ask her for help."
Octavia couldn't help but giggle at the filly's enthusiasm.  "Exactly," she said, "From what I hear, Vinyl is very good at working with young ones, such as yourself."
"Okay," said Sweetie, "I'll do that."
"You should probably join your friends then," said Octavia, "I think they're getting a little worried about you."
"Okay."  Sweetie made for the door, but paused and turned to look at Octavia more carefully.  "You said that the right audience is important.  Who's your audience?"
To Sweetie's surprise, Octavia actually began to blush.  "Well...I can play in front of a large audience.  But...for a while now, there's only been one pony that I really want to hear my work."
"Ooooh!  Is it your special somepony?" asked Sweetie.
Octavia blushed even more fiercely.  "Well no..." she admitted, somewhat reluctantly, "It may be just wishful thinking..." she paused, apparently reluctant to express any further details.
"Um...you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," said Sweetie.  Now that she had a special somepony of her own, she realized how embarrassing it would be if somepony started asking her a ton of questions about her personal affairs.
"Thank you," said Octavia, her blush fading, "In any case, that's why I was practicing by myself here.  I'm hoping to come up with a melody for my audience."
Sweetie beamed at Octavia.  "I'm sure you'll come up with something.  You're an amazing player."
"That means a lot to me," said Octavia, lowering her head and giving Sweetie a light nuzzle, "Thank you.  Now I think it's time for you to meet back up with your friends.  I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay in the Palace."
"'Kay, I will!" shouted Sweetie as she bounded out the door, "Bye!"
The door shut behind Sweetie and Octavia turned her attention back to the stand of music and the cellos that rested alongside it.  "Now, back to work."



"Whew!" gasped Applejack as she sagged onto the couch, "Ah'm plum tuckered out.  It's bad enough we only got off the train today, but to spend all afternoon rehearsin' is exhaustin'."  Fortunately, there had been a small hitch that had delayed the costume designer, who would not be able to come until tomorrow, so that meant the group had extra time to rest.
"Ha!" scoffed Apple Bloom from where she was sprawled out on top of the bed, "Ya think yer tired.  All ya had to do was prance about and practice yer lines.  Ah ended up helpin' build the scenery.  Let me tell ya, it's like tryin' to raise a barn by yerself even when the rest 'o the crew is helpin'."
"Yer probably right," admitted Applejack, taking off her stetson and settling it on the back of the couch, "But rehearsin' fer the Canterlot pageant ain't no piece 'o cake.  That director's a slave driver.  Ah swear, that pony's wasted shoutin' orders at a bunch 'o actors.  Ah say we take her back and have her call the shots on the farm.  Now there's a mare that knows how to get ponies movin'."
"She definitely has the lungs for it."  Applejack stiffened up slightly as she felt the cushions on the couch shift a bit as Red River joined her.  A few seconds later, Red rested his forehooves on Applejack's back and slowly began to knead the muscles around her shoulders, slowly working his way down her spine, massaging the muscles and working out the knots that had accumulated from the stress of the past few days.
And a stressful past few days they had been...for everyone on Sweet Apple Acres.  The wintersilk apples' ripening couldn't have occurred at a more inconvenient time, forcing the Apples to rush to get them harvested in time for departure.  Red River had helped as much as he possibly could.  Mayweather had lent her assistance as well, though she ultimately ended up leaving on the first train with Pinkie Pie.  Spike had joined them too, doing his best to lend the organizational skills he had polished under Twilight to increase the harvest's speed and efficiency.  Had it not been for the young dragon directing their efforts, it might well have taken an extra day to gather the crop.  Even so, they'd barely had time to pack their bags before running to catch the next train bound for Canterlot.
Speaking of Spike, the little purple dragon came into the room behind Red, making his way to the bed, where Bloom was resting, spread eagled on her stomach.  Crawling over, Spike imitated Red and gently pressed his fingers down into the muscles around Bloom's shoulders, giving the filly a massage of her own.
Both sisters let out happy sighs as their respective special someones continued their ministrations, slowly easing their tension.  Bloom's situation was especially blissful, as Spike's agile fingers were working wonders that nopony's hooves could possibly hope to match.  "Ya could give the Spa Twins a run fer their money sugarcube," she cooed as Spike moved down to her barrel.
"Sheesh, and I've only read a couple books about it," said Spike, "Maybe I should look into doing this professionally.  You think Aloe and Lotus are hiring?"  He secretly marveled at how much muscle Bloom had put on since the time he had first met her.  She scarcely seemed the same filly that he remembered meeting on the farm on the day before the Summer Sun Celebration.  The years since then had seen her grow in both height and girth, though she still had a long ways to go before she matched her sister.  Beneath the skin under his claws, Spike could feel the thick, dense muscle, the result of endless hours spent helping the Apple family do what they did best.  It was only with a supreme effort of will the Spike was able to keep his mind from wandering in a more...sensual direction.  It was just as well, seeing as he noticed Bloom glowering at him over her shoulder.
"Don't even think 'bout it sugarcube," she said.  At first, Spike was worried that Bloom had figured that his mind had been slowly working its way towards the gutter.  But a second later, it was clear that she was talking about his previous statement.  "Ah'm keepin' those fingers 'o yers all to mahself.”(1)
Spike couldn't help but grin mischievously at the filly.  "Really, even if I do...this!"  With that, he switched the pressure from the pads of his fingers to the tips of his claws as he began to trace the skin around Bloom's ribs, eliciting squealing laughter from the yellow filly as she began to squirm and thrash beneath him.
Applejack and Red River watched the two young ones laughing and playing on the bed.  With a playful smile of his own, Red leaned over and gently nipped at Applejack's ear, earning a giggle from his fillyfriend as she twitched from the treatment.
"Now yer playin' dirty," said Applejack in mock reproof.
"Oh, am I?" inquired Red, settling his weight across Applejack's back and wrapping his arms around her, even as he rested his chin on top of her head.
"Where'd ya learn to massage like that?" asked Applejack.
"In a certain sense, it comes with the territory," explained Red, "Massage as a therapy is useful to anypony practicing heavily physical activities, including the martial arts.  In the martial arts, a working knowledge of the equine form is required."
"Ah guess that makes sense," said Applejack, letting herself relax in her coltfriend's embrace as they continued to watch Spike and Bloom wrestle playfully on the bed, keeping a weather eye out, just in case the young ones' activities became a bit more amorous than she was willing to allow.  As of right now, there was no reason to worry, seeing as the only thing going on was an extended tickle fight.
Everything ground to a halt as knocking sounded from the door, which swung open only a few seconds later to reveal Rarity, still looking as prim and immaculate as she had at lunch, as though the last few hours had never happened at all.  Applejack grunted irritably, as she recalled Rarity looking distinctly more frazzled at the end of rehearsals.  She greatly envied the fashionista's skill at repairing her appearance in so short a period of time, not that Applejack had been making any efforts in that direction.
"Chop chop darlings!" declared Rarity imperiously, "It is nearly time for dinner with the Princesses.  I hope that you can get yourselves ready in time.  We don't want to be late."
"We'll be fine," snapped Applejack, "Don't you fret now."
"Well yes," said Rarity, "But I can't help but think you should put more of an effort into grooming for this evening.  We will be dining with royalty after all."
"We dined with 'em fer lunch," Applejack shot back, "There ain't anythin' fancy or formal 'bout it.  It's just like dinner with close family.  Celestia said so herself."
"Well...yes..." said Rarity reluctantly, "But we are in Canterlot, the center of Equestrian culture and..."
"More like the center of Equestrian snobbiness," groused Applejack.  She froze when she felt Red's hoof prod her side.  Turning her head, Applejack looked over her shoulder at her coltfriend who gave her a somber look and shook his head slowly.  Looking back at Rarity, Applejack noticed that Rarity looked a bit more hurt by her harsh words than she had realized.  "Aw geez!  Ah'm sorry Rares.  Ah'm just tired.  Ah didn't mean to snap at ya like that."
"No...It's quite alright," said Rarity, "I realize you've had a difficult past few days and it's been a long afternoon.  It's perfectly understandable that your temper is a bit...short.  I've been feeling a mite tense myself."
Applejack blinked, wondering just what could have Rarity so tightly-wound…at least, more so than usual.  “Everythin’ okay sugarcube?”
“Oh no!” protested Rarity, “Everything is simply wonderful.  I’d forgotten how wonderful the Palace accommodations are.  It’s truly beyond compare.  What could I possibly have to get upset about?”
“Ah ain’t sure, but it seems to be enough to make ya dance like yer on a bed ‘o hot coals,” observed Applejack.
It was a mild exaggeration.  But it was indeed true that, for a mare of her poise, Rarity seemed to be having a hard time standing still, constantly shifting her weight from leg to another and occasionally glancing about with a faint air of nervousness.
“Oh don’t be silly, dear Applejack,” said Rarity in a faint effort to dismiss the topic, “I assure you that there is nothing here for me to worry about.”
Applejack’s eyes narrowed.  “Here, huh?”  She grabbed the thread of Rarity’s statement and pulled sharply.  “Then maybe somethin’ back in Ponyville’s got ya riled up.”
“Um…well…”  Rarity’s anxious behavior was only continuing to gather momentum as Applejack’s interrogation came closer and closer to the truth.  Spike and Apple Bloom had long since abandoned their play and were watching the back and forth between the two mares with careful interest.
Applejack flinched at another prod from Red.  Looking at him again, she saw the stallion give her a warning glance and shake his head.  Realizing what she was doing, Applejack gasped shortly and turned back to Rarity.  “Ah’m so sorry sugarcube!  Ah got so worked up that Ah started pryin’ into things that ain’t any ‘o mah business.”
Reluctantly, Applejack slid out of Red’s embrace and made her way across the floor to Rarity, where she rested a hoof on the impeccably groomed coat over the alabaster unicorn’s shoulder.  “It might not be any ‘o mah business, but we’re friends Rarity.  So Ah hope ya’ll believe me when Ah say Ah don’t want ya to feel that ya have to hide anythin’ from me.  Ah was gettin’ a mite concerned and Ah let mahself get carried away.  Just say the word and Ah won’t ask another question.”
“No, it’s perfectly alright,” said Rarity, looking down, “You’re right.  I am a bit nervous about what is happening in Ponyville.  Poor Flaxseed is back there, all by his lonesome, on Hearth’s Warming no less.  How can I not worry?”
"If'n Ah recall, Flaxseed's a big colt.  Ah think he can manage on his own."  In fact, given what Flaxseed must have gone through to grant him such a paranoid mindset, Applejack was willing to bet that he could handle himself quite well.
"That's not what I mean and you know it," said Rarity with an angry huff, "Think about it.  On Hearth's Warming Eve, he's going to be all by his lonesome; no friends, no family, no one to share the spirit of the holiday with.  I know that I recommended that he join Rumble's family for the evening, but I am fairly certain that he has no intention of following my recommendation."
"Forgive me fer askin'," said Applejack, "But ain't that his choice to make.  If he wants to be by himself fer the holiday, that's his right."
Rarity sighed.  "He doesn't want to be by himself because he wants to be alone.  He wants to isolate himself because he still has a great deal of difficulty trusting other ponies.  Even after all the time he has spent in the boutique with me and Sweetie Belle, the poor dear still hasn't made much progress with ponies outside of our immediate circle and he won't if he doesn't learn to step outside of his comfort zone.
"Far be it for me to belittle that stallion after all he has been through, but I can't help but feel that his unwillingness to spend any amount of time with anypony besides me and my sister is very much like a foal unwilling to step away from her mother, even when she should be old enough to go off and do things on her own.  In order for Flaxseed to recover from his trauma, he needs to take that extra step."
"Then maybe it's fer the best," said Applejack, watching Rarity somberly, "Ya compare Flaxseed to some foal who don't want to leave their ma, but here you are, actin' just like ya wanna stand right next to 'im and hold his hoof the whole time.  If he's gonna step outside his comfort zone, he needs to do it himself, not 'cause yer standin' behind 'im and pushin' and proddin' him."
Rarity let out a gasp and her hooves flew to her mouth.  "Dear me!  You're absolutely right!"  She sighed.  "That was extremely disrespectful of me.  I should know better than to think of him like that."  Her heart sank with guilt as she realized that, in many ways, she did see Flaxseed in that manner, as stallion who was not quite able to look after his own needs, even though she knew better.  The thought that she was being so inconsiderate of him was horrifying.
Applejack felt her lips pull up into a smile.  Looking back, she saw that Red was wearing a similar look and realized that they had come to, more or less, the same conclusion.  Turning back to Rarity, Applejack's smile became a grin.  "If Ah were any judge, Ah'd say yer so wound up 'cause ya actually want to spend Hearth's Warmin' with 'im."
Rarity gasped sharply, raising a hoof to her mouth, which failed to conceal the blush blooming across her cheeks.  "Oh my!  D-don't be ridiculous darling.  It's nothing like that...not that I would have anything against spending Hearth's Warming with Flaxseed, b-but..."
"Come on Rarity.  Ain't no shame in admittin' it," said Applejack, her expression softening, "Ah understand that feelin'.  After everythin' that fella's been through, ya wanna be there and make this year's Hearth's Warmin' special fer him.  Ya want that, 'cause ya know ya may not have the same chance next year."
"But I can't just go rushing back off to Ponyville," protested Rarity, "Regardless of what I want, I have made commitments here."
"To play yer role in the pageant...Don't sweat it sugarcube.  That's what them under-underwhatsits...?"
"Understudies Applejack," huffed Rarity.
"Right, them."  Applejack nodded as though she'd known that all along.  "That's what they're fer."
"But the audience..."
"Come on Rarity!  What's more important; puttin' on a show for a bunch 'o hoity toity Canterlot snobs more interested in us 'cause we get to hobnob with the Princess or makin' the holiday special fer a stallion who hasn't really had a chance to be part of a real Hearth's Warmin' fer most 'o his life."
"I...well..."  Rarity's expression shifted from Applejack to the the floor, to the wall, to the ceiling as Rarity argued with herself about what to do.
Applejack didn't bother trying to suppress her sigh as she watched Rarity dither.  While it was one of her most endearing traits, Rarity's willingness to give of herself for the sake of her friends was something she could easily take too far, given the chance, just as it had when she'd first made those Grand Galloping Gala dresses for the girls and had been too willing to accommodate their personal desires, even though Rarity had known better about what would truly make the girls look their best.  At some point, Rarity would just have to accept that she couldn't please everypony and meet everything that was asked of her.
"I beg your pardon."  Rarity froze and whirled about in the direction of the voice that had spoken.  Applejack leaned to try and get a view of who had interjected herself into the conversation and was rewarded by the midnight-blue coat and starscape mane of Princess Luna.
"Oh!  Princess!"  Rarity immediately sank into a respectful bow.
"Please, rise Rarity," said Luna as she smiled down at the fashionista, "You are our guests and friends.  There is no need for such formality here."
"I-I thank you," said Rarity, getting back on her hooves a little shakily.  She was already out of sorts, thanks to her own dilemma.  At the unexpected appearance of Luna, old habits and traditions had quickly asserted themselves, even though she knew better.
"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," said Luna, glancing into the room, drawing a nod from Applejack and Red, along with happy waves from Spike and Apple Bloom.
"A-ah yes...well..."  Rarity wasn't sure that she was allowed to be upset that a Princess had been essentially eavesdropping on their conversation.  But, at the same time, she supposed it was her own fault for talking to Applejack from the hallway.
"This Flaxseed you are speaking of," said Luna, "I presume he is the same stallion I heard about on Nightmare Night, the one with the same condition as Dawn."
Both Applejack and Rarity nodded in confirmation.
"I see," said Luna, "I must admit I am ashamed that I did not follow through on my plans to visit him that night.  Ever since then, I having been hoping to...drop by...as it were, but could never find the right time for it."
"I am sure that we could accommodate you at your convenience, Princess," said Rarity, uncertain of how else to respond.
"Excellent," said Luna, "But that is why I have chosen to talk to you now.  As I said before, I was listening to your conversation and it gave me an idea..."