Rarity had a headache. Of that, she was sure. Before she even opened her eyes, she was spiked in the head with an icepick. She groaned as she turned over in bed, pulling up the sheets farther and burrowing her head under her pillow in an attempt at running from the pain. When that proved insufficient, she flopped onto her back and set her mind on sucking it up and getting on with her day. She may be a lady, but she wasn’t about to let a simple headache stop her.
She rolled over, finding the edge of her bed far sooner than she expected. After a short drop, she landed with a yelp, the landing exacerbating her headache. Rarity rubbed her head as she opened her eyes. "This isn't my room," she mumbled to herself.
The room she was in was definitely not her room. It was far too small, painted a dull white, and was sparsely adorned. A curtain to each side of the bed kept her from seeing most the room, but from what she could see of the far wall, her section was the middle third of it. The door placed in the center of the wall opened, and Nurse Redheart walked in. The hospital, then. Why was she in the hospital? She didn't remember being sick.
"Are you okay?" Redheart asked, trotting up to the fallen Rarity. "Twilight told me what happened—let's get you on that bed—and it sounds like you're lucky."
Rarity, now on the bed, was silent for a moment as the events of the night before (she thought) rushed into her head. "Is Twilight okay?" Rarity asked. "I don't know what happened with that spell, but it didn't seem to go to plan."
"Twilight's fine," Redheart said. "It's you we're worried about."
"Me? You said I wasn't hurt," Rarity said.
"I said you were lucky," the nurse corrected, wheeling over a mirror. "You might want to brace yourself."
"What, did I—" Rarity lost her train of thought as she beheld the mirror. No matter what she was thinking, this was a hundred, no, a thousand times worse. It would take weeks for her to recover from this, if she ever did.
"Rarity," Redheart started when the mare in question didn't respond for a minute, "it's not really as bad as it—"
"My mane!" Rarity cried, as she fully comprehended the tangled mess on top of her head. "I just had it done!"
Redheart blinked. "Your mane."
"My mane!" Rarity confirmed with a wail. "Look at it! It's tangled, and there's split ends, and I can see knots in it! This is worse than I thought!"
"If I can be frank with you?" Redheart asked, planting her hoof in her face. "Your mane is the least of your worried right now. Look closer."
Sniffing in indignance, Rarity looked past the glaring error that was her mane. Eyes? Fine. Face? Beautiful as ever, if she did say herself. Ears? Nope, they were fine. "What am I—" right as she started to speak, she saw it.
From the tip of her horn down to the very base, thin cracks spiderwebbed down.
"My horn's cracked?" Rarity asked quietly. "But I use magic for my job. I'll go out of business without it."
"I'm sorry, Rarity," Redheart said. "There's nothing we can do but wait and hope it heals."
Rarity sighed as she lay back in bed. "How long am I in here?"
"You're welcome to leave at any time," Redheart said. "Just avoid trying to use magic, it'll make it worse, and then it might not heal at all."
"I'll make sure to not do that," Rarity said.
As Redheart was leaving, she paused, turning to Rarity. "Sweetie Belle showed up about half an hour ago, asking about you. She's in the waiting room."
"Thanks for telling me," Rarity said. "I'll be sure to not try to sneak past her."
At least her couch was comfy.
Rarity mused this as she lay upside-down in her living room. Not being able to use her magic was already killing her, and it was only a few hours into Monday. Not only could she not work at all, she couldn't even drag over her emergency couch if she felt the need to be dramatic.
"It could be worse," Sweetie Belle said as she carried in a simple breakfast—barely burnt, she worked extra-hard on it—on extravagant plates, "so you don't get to act like it's the end of the world. It's bad, sure, but you'll make it through."
"But Sweetie Belle, how am I supposed to function without magic?" Rarity asked. "I can't make food, I can't make dresses, I can't even work doors by myself!"
"Ask Applejack," Sweetie said calmly, pouring Rarity some of her favorite tea. "Or Rainbow Dash. Fluttershy. Pinkie Pie. Scootaloo and Apple Bloom. Me. A full two-thirds of the population doesn't have magic, and more can't use as much as you can, yet you don't see them starving to death or being unable to open doors."
Rarity was silent as she took the teacup in shaky hooves, lighting up like a Hearth's Warming tree. She hadn't even thought about that. "I guess it could be worse. Plus, horns heal eventually, right?"
"Of course," Sweetie said, not sure herself. She sat down by the couch, waiting should Rarity need any help. Not a minute later, she caught the teacup as Rarity dropped it. Sweetie managed to keep the tea inside from getting all over her when she caught it. The carpet on the floor was not so lucky.
"Darn it," Rarity said quietly, starting to stand up.
Sweetie gently pushed her back into the couch. "I got it." She started trotting to the hall closet to get cleaning supplies.
"I'm an adult," Rarity huffed indignantly. "I think I can clean my own messes."
Sweetie stopped and turned around. "You just got out of the hospital—"
"I was only there for a night and a few tests," Rarity argued.
"—you're not used to working without magic yet—" Sweetie continued as if she was never interrupted.
"There's no better time to learn than now," Rarity interrupted again.
Irritation seeped into Sweetie's voice when she resumed. "—and at any other time in your life, you'd love to be pampered like this. You're just against it because of—"
"I should think that—" Rarity started.
"Rarity!" Sweetie snapped, shocking the mare into silence. "Stop with your dumb pride for five minutes and let me do nice things for my sister!"
Rarity hung her head and sank into the sofa. Sweetie huffed, half at herself, and trotted to the closet, grabbing the cloth that Rarity was one-hundred-percent convinced was magic, despite Twilight herself finding no magic in it. With a bit of pressure for a few seconds, the tea was out of the carpet before it could stain.
The two sat in silence for a few moments. They each grumbled internally, one about dang sisters and always wanting to do the best for you, the other about dang sisters and always wanting to do things themselves. "Rarity?" Sweetie said.
"Hmm?" the mare replied, looking up from her almost-finished meal.
"Why don't we go to Applejack's after you finish eating. Have her teach you to do things without magic?"
"That's a great idea," Rarity said. "I'll help you cl—" She faltered at Sweetie's look. "You know what? I'll sit here while you clean up breakfast."
"I'm afraid I'm a mite bit busy," Applejack said to the unicorns in front of her. "Remember that big storm that passed buy a few days ago? We're still cleaning, even with weather ponies helping clean." She shrugged. "We just don't have enough ponies around for—"
"Hey cuz!" a stallion called out from the farmhouse. "Am I allowed to help yet? I can be useful!"
"Ya were sent here to keep you from working, Braeburn!" Applejack called back. "I ain't making Granny mad by disobeyin' a direct order."
"But there's so much to do, and I'm just sitting on my butt!" he whined. "Why am I here to not work?"
"Because we're normally in slow season!" Applejack replied. She turned to the sisters in front of her. "I'm sorry, but I got to get working. Wish I could help."
Sweetie looked between Rarity and Applejack, a smile forming on her face as an idea formed in her mind. "Aww, that's no trouble at all, Applejack," she said. "We'll just get Braeburn to teach my sister how to use her hooves."
Applejack opened her mouth to reply, but couldn't come up with an argument. Help a friend while helping her own peace of mind? Sure! "I don't see how that could be an issue," she said. "If he complains, tell him it's a direct order from me, under Granny's authority."
Rarity smiled. "Thanks, Applejack. I appreciate it."
"Not a problem, sugar cube. Just remember, he's slightly," Applejack paused in thought, "different."
"You've got the hang of it now," Braeburn said as Rarity carried a tray full of eggs on her back. It wobbled nearly enough to fall, but stayed on. "And to think that almost a week ago you couldn't even carry just the tray by yourself."
"This is more difficult than you all make it look," Rarity said for the hundredth time.
"We all got a lifetime of muscle memory from the when we started to where we are now," he replied. "It ain't like we just up and figured this out one day, out of nowhere."
They were out in a part of Sweet Apple Acres that had already been cleaned. By that point, a little over half of the farm was in workable condition, attributing to the amount of damage caused by the storm and the sheer size of the Apples' orchard. Apple trees were planted in uniform rows and columns as far as they could see in any direction, save for an empty spot here and there from when a tree was too damaged to be salvaged.
Rarity sighed as she remembered what tomorrow was. "It's almost bath day," she groaned.
"I'm sure that the nice ladies at the spa would be more than happy to help you out there," Braeburn said. "That there's one thing you have to figure out for yourself, I'm afraid."
"For my cat," Rarity clarified.
Braeburn winced. "Sorry to hear that. Maybe Fluttershy could help. She's good with animals, right?"
The sound of approaching hoofsteps heralded Applejack's approach. "That'll have to wait, I'm afraid. Twilight's gatherin' us up. Celestia wants to see us."