The Fifth
The Fifth
Applejack looked down. It was the first thing she did, coming out of her pre-awareness stupor. She still felt a bit disoriented, but this time it was because of the large gown that she had on, something that she felt a bit uncomfortable to have dreamt of.
She had no idea what would have possessed her to have worn this horrendous beast, but yet, there it was, a frilly white thing with embroidered lace and the poofy chest thing whose name escaped her for the moment.
This was the kind of thing that Rarity might have made. It looked rather old-fashioned, as if it were meant for a party that took place more than a hundred years ago. Even the odd sensibilities of Canterlot had left these stylings behind, with the layers and the ruffles and the upturned collars of mute blues and blacks.
And there Applejack stood, snug within the folds of one of these dresses.
She closed her eyes and let the dream speak to her.
She was in a hall. A grand hall. Marbled floors of squared patterns lined the entire room, the end of which held a great staircase. A huge chandelier hung overhead, raining down a constant shower of gold and silver dust that sparkled in the reflection of the candlelit sconces that lined the curtained walls.
Stained, crumpled velvet adorned arches that positioned themselves under a balcony overhead and the stone pillars that held the room up were not intrusive in the slightest.
The light was locked into a dim glow, rather than the splendid brightness that the scene would otherwise suggest. Everything was blanketed in a dull grey gloom, tinged orange around the fray, and although it gave the impression of a warm, fire-lit evening, cozy and safe, it felt anything but.
Applejack opened her eyes again and stepped forward, her hoof clattering on the marble tiles.
All at once, the noise filled her ears – voices indistinct, words unreal. The clatter and clamour of ten dozen ponies invaded her mind, as the room suddenly filled itself with a hundred party-goers, all dressed in clothing that closely resembled Applejack’s own.
The noise of glasses tinkling and plates being emptied overlayed the voices, along with shuffling, dancing, and the vague impression of music being played. Something with a violin, definitely.
But the guests, they did not dance. They did not eat or drink or move. They stood there, still, mannequins dressed up in their gowns and suits and feathers and ties. Each one of them wore a mask bordered in red, something that covered their entire face, each decorated differently, but all bearing the same make – smooth platters that did not have a single hole through which to look or breathe or talk.
Applejack had the impression that they were, despite their nature, alive.
They had appeared in the instant Applejack had taken that one single step forward.
Being thrust into the middle of a ball, Applejack would have felt shock if this world would have allowed her to be. But instead, she resigned to be disquieted while reeling from the scene.
She pulled her leg back, returning it to where she had started from, and the noise died off. The crowd disappeared.
And once again, Applejack was cast alone.
She turned back, and behind her was the only door to the room. The door. But this time she wouldn’t go near it. This time she wouldn’t touch it. She would take the time to explore, as much as the dream would allow her.
She stepped to the right, looking for a way around. But that one single step brought back the noise; the crowd; the clamor. The party started, and all the living dolls of wax positioned themselves in place.
Like a mouse to its hole, she retreated, casting away the figures.
For the third time she left the safety of the silent zone, plying left this time, hoping to find a difference in the pattern, but to no avail – a single step in any direction threw her back into the midst of the crowd.
And for the third time she stepped back gingerly, avoiding the scene.
But this time there was something different.
This time, the scene didn’t let her go that easily.
When she banished all the dolls, one remained.
She was sure that she hadn’t – no, she definitely hadn’t – touched the door. But a ringing in her head told her that she had played one too many games, and now they were going to proceed whether she liked it or not.
The single guest stood, perched at the far end of the room, silent and unmoving, yet watching her slowly. Behind a flood of waxy greys it stood, a billowing dress extending out from behind her neck, covering nearly her entire form. The cloth moved like smog in a jar – trapped in a single spot but always moving fluidly around the form. It was grandiose in its elaborate nature, pinpricks of black dancing from between the folds.
An ornate mask adorned where her face might have been. Like all the other guests, the holeless mask had a thick red border, but within those borders an endless universe lay trapped. Painted stars held their course in the heavens, twinkling and pulsing against a midnight background. The mask came alive in Applejack’s eyes as the scene panned slowly across the skies.
The only exposed skin on the entire pony were small sections where the dress and mask did not touch, and within that, just like her mane, lay infinity.
It was clearly the same creature from the last dream, this time all dressed up and ready for a ball.
Applejack suddenly felt very conscious of the fact that there were only two ponies in the entire room, and felt the oppressive need to populate the area as was intended.
She stepped forward, towards the main hall.
The cacophony gave her comfort. There were no words she recognized; it was an imitation of speech performed by pale phantoms who could only mimic without understanding. But it fell over the more familiar sounds of an odd laugh and the tinkling of glasses and plates, and altogether it produced a noise that gave her a sense of familiarity.
The monochromatic ghosts that filled the hall still refused to move, however, and Applejack herself felt the suggestion that she too, was to find a place and plant herself solidly in a single spot.
She looked back at the door.
No. That would always be there.
But it was the figure – the one that stood on the other side of the room from her – which she had to approach. It was the monster in pony skin, the beast that hid in dreams.
The monster took a step toward the crowd, and like filings suddenly rushing toward a magnet, the guests in close proximity drew toward her, coming to life and acting as they were intended. They bowed and cavorted and mingled and danced. They ate and drank and chatted and laughed. They did all this at the same time but not at all.
Fading wisps of each pony performed all their actions a dozen times over as one image disappeared into the aether only to be replaced by another almost instantly. It was a party accelerated. It was a party which was just as fake as the words flying through the air. It was meant to mimic, but not be.
And through this all, the monster in the dress kept walking, her hooves steadily pushing through the crowd. As she left the guests’ sides, they returned to their frozen positions. Only the ones around the monster were necessary.
But Applejack could break the script.
Not to be condemned in ice, Applejack danced past the crowd herself, darting around unresponsive dolls and faceless statues.
She stopped, though, surrounded by the sea, a thought playing on her mind. A wonder.
She reached up, slowly, her hoof sneaking around her face.
And she felt it.
Wrapped neatly around her head was a mask of her own. It didn’t bar vision, and if she hadn’t reached up, she would never have known it was there. But she too, like everyone else in the room, had a mask.
Nothing held it fast. At least, nothing was telling her that it was. And in that, Applejack suddenly felt the pressure to not be bound by such a horrendous thing. To be one of them was a frightful idea, to be one of the cast of statues. She would be as a music box ballerina – only able to dance when someone opened the lid.
She pulled it away.
And everyone stared.
In shock, in fear, in sudden slight, she jammed the mask back onto her face, and all at once, every guest in the room turned back to their appointed positions.
But the monster had not noticed.
The monster continued its winding way, traversing the sea of blank faces. It only stopped for mere moments at a time, giving each guest a soft regard. It watched them as if to observe rather than to participate, but carried on its track.
The noises continued as the figure approached.
But were these guests... the same as Applejack?
Did they come from the same stock?
There was an idea now. A curiosity that she had to resolve. She stepped to the side and didn’t have to go too far to reach the nearest guest of the ball.
This gentlestallion was dressed in a fine tuxedo, all black and white and formal. His tailcoat hung low, swaying in a perpetual wind, and he had a carnation attached to the lapel of his front chest pocket. It was the kind of pocket that had a lapel.
His red-lined masked encapsulated nothing more than a pair of links drawn on a canvas of white – two hoops intertwined.
Perhaps it was just to see what would happen.
Perhaps it was just to see if she could, but she reached up slowly and grasped the mask by the edges.
With the hesitation that only came due to a mix of fear and apprehension, she drew the mask toward herself, the edges of his face revealing themselves minutely as it went.
Out of the corner of her mind she knew it. She didn’t have to look, but a chill ran deep in her heart when all the guests in the room started to stare once more. Even the ones who were inspirited – the ones currently affected by the monster – all performed their due actions while observing the offender.
Curious. It was curious.
With perhaps a bit more force than necessary, Applejack shoved the mask back onto the face of the guest before things could be disrupted further. He was not the one whose face ought to be seen. He was not the one who had something to hide.
But he proved a point and served a purpose, and that purpose was up.
Applejack swung now, to the side, facing the monster, a burning fire of determination fueling her thoughts. She stepped closer to it, pushing guests out of the way. Like dominos, they fell, clattering to the ground as no more than life-sized figurines.
The more she stepped toward the monster, the more her heart filled with the same fear, the same apprehension.
Yes, the monster said. Be wary of me. Fear me. For I am here to do no good.
But she pressed ever onward.
Both of them, walking through a crowd, coming to meet in the center.
The dreamer stared upward, stared into the mask of night. At her approach, the monster stopped as well. Perhaps confused. Perhaps anticipating.
Applejack felt a buzz in her brain. She heard the commands to perform. To dance. To swing along like all the others. But she fought it. She fought it because she had one last thing to do, and that did not involve being a pawn of the world she stood in.
She stared up at the form unmoving. The mask. What was hidden behind the mask was key. That was what was important. The one creature in this room that was different from all the others had something to hide.
Applejack would be remiss if she hadn’t at least tried.
Her heart felt tight – more so than ever before. Perhaps it was only due to the knowledge that she would eventually wake up that gave her the foolish courage she needed to press on regardless.
Perhaps it was her desire for the truth.
Perhaps it was the need to end the nightmares.
She swung back and let fly her hoof straight at the face of the monster.
In an instant, its mask swirled into stardust. She willed it so. She willed it away, and so away it flew, like a tornado turning in the midnight breeze. It flickered and flashed, the mask itself turning into a starry night as it spun away and scattered into oblivion.
The shadow reared up.
Two magnificent wings, removed from the world, spread out as the creature stood on its hind legs, its front half reeling wildly in some untold silent emotion.
Upon her head was a horn. It was clearer now, as her head raised up and pointed to the heavens.
But her face, that was the thing that struck terror into Applejack’s soul, and even all her foolhardy stubbornness could not prevent her from wanting to run away in fear.
It was the unidentifiable, the unknowable.
Her head, like the mask, was a smooth, featureless bubble. No eyes or ears had she, nor even a protuberance common amongst anyone who had a face. It perched unnaturally upon stocky shoulders, a grey collar of mist rising up to obscure it.
But in the seconds that passed, as the dress she wore curled up to wrap around her stump of a head like a bandage, it was clear to see.
Upon the abyss was etched out a single sliver of yellow. A single crescent line that ran from top to bottom. A cutout in a cutout.
And Applejack saw the moon.
“Pinkie!”
“Applejack? C-come in! Can I g-”
“No! No time! Pinkie!”
“Yes, Applejack! You’re here! I’m here! We’re all here! ... It’s seven thirty!”
“I’m sorry! I know it’s early, but...”
“Oh no, that’s fine! I was going to wake up soon, anyway. But why so early?”
“I came as soon as I could! Pinkie, have you told anyone yet about wantin’ to meet with them?”
“No. Not yet, Applejack. Who do you mean by ‘anyone’?”
“I mean Princess Luna, Pinkie. Did you tell her yet that we were intendin’ to meet her?”
“Nopesies...”
“Oh, thank... thank goodness. O... okay. Alright. I think I could use... use a drink now.”
“Applejack? Just calm down, alright? Tell me what’s on your mind.”
“We can’t tell her, Pinkie.”
“Why not?”
“Because it is her. The monster! It’s Princess Luna! She’s the one been doin’ this t’ me! She’s the one been-”
“Yeah... alright. You just sit right there, and I’ll get you a lovely cold glass of milk!”
“Yeah... yeah. Thanks, Pinkie. Thanks for... all this.”
“No, just... I just wanna make sure you’re fine. Okay. First thing’s first. How are you sure it’s her?”
“It’s her, Pinkie. It’s always been her. From th’ start. It’s all so clear now! I saw somethin’ that... that’s definitely her! And everything’s connectin’, and-”
“Alright. Take me through the dream. Let’s do this slowly, this time.”
Applejack explained.
Pinkie listened.
“And when I saw that face I just knew, Pinkie. It was like as if a curtain had been lifted. I just knew it was her. And then she stepped on me, and I woke up. Same thing. Sadness. Mac was already there. He’s gettin’ real concerned now. He’s tellin’ me to go see Princess Celestia. I can’t keep givin’ excuses no more, Pinkie. Just this mornin’ I was calling all of your names, too. Yours. Twilight’s. Rainbow’s... everyone. It’s gettin’... real bad. But now I can’t... I can’t go see Princess Luna about it, because it’s her.”
Pinkie sighed.
“Pinkie?”
“Yeah, I kinda figured. Last night, after you left? I was looking through all the notes and... I kinda saw a connection between all the previous dreams. It all seemed like... everything was pointing to the moon or something. And then I thought... what if it was her? I didn’t write to inform her because of this, really. I guess last night’s dream sort of confirmed it, huh.”
“What kind... what kind of connections?”
“Well, when I was but a young Pieling, my granny Pie used to tell me stories about the rabbit in the moon. You know? Like the rabbit from your first nightmare.”
“Yeah, I heard’a that legend as well.”
“And I was thinking, you described the bird in the third dream as a weird owl monster, right? And owls... the moon... you know. It’s a bit of a jump but... maybe.”
“Maybe...”
“And of course, the fish was a reflection of the moon itself, so that one was a lot more clear than the others, huh.”
“Just like last night, Pinkie. She’s trompin’ around in my dreams, no doubt.”
“So... what now?”
“I... don’t know, Pinkie.”
“What about going to see Princess Celestia instead?”
“Well, I don’t know if that’s a very good idea, Pinkie.”
“Yeah... me neither.”
“Somethin’ about it makes me feel like it’s a bit too early to do that.”
“Well, it’s probably not a nice thing to go around accusing the Princess’ sister without proof...”
“But what’s missin’?”
“I think we need a motive.”
“A motive?”
“Well... yeah. I mean, There’s all the things that point to her, but all the things that point away, too. There’s gotta be one reason that makes everything sort of... fit together, you know? And we don’t know what that is yet.”
“Well, she’s got this power to walk into other ponies’ dreams, right? So it’s clearly her.”
“But she does it to help. Like with Scootaloo! So what’s all this about?”
“Maybe she’s tryin’ t’ help me? Maybe... fightin’ off somethin’ else in my head?”
“It seems to me that if she noticed something like that, she’d tell you directly. Why would she keep it to herself and work this way?”
“So... what are we sayin’? That she ain’t tryin’ to hurt me but she’s also tryin’ to hurt me at the same time?”
“Well, you see... I don’t know if she’s trying to hurt you. As far as I know, she isn’t a meanie stinky poo-poo pants anymore. Ever since we blasted the evil outta her...”
“Well, she was a bit cold and aloof up there on the hill that night. I don’t think she’s evil no more, but... still...”
“Wait. The hill?”
“Yeah, on Nightmare Night. You know, when I went to see her durin’ the party.”
“Wait, I didn’t know this. Fluttershy told me you sort of just bumped into her.”
“No, no. I... I went to see her. I left for a moment to find her...”
“Wait, wasn’t that night the same night your nightmares started?”
“I... oh... oh boy.”
“Applejack!”
“W...what?”
“What does this mean?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know! Uh... whoa there... okay. This seems... like it ain’t a coincidence.”
“Applejack! What happened out there? What did you do? You insulted her, didn’t you! You said something wrong and she’s... she’s taking her evil nightmare revenge!”
“Whoa there, Pinkie. I thought you said you weren’t sure she was evil no more just a moment ago.”
“That was before I learnt that you really upset her!”
“Wh- hold on now! I didn’t do no such thing, Pinkie!”
“Did you step on her new trainers?”
“I... she wasn’t wearin’... no, Pinkie! Of course I didn’t!”
“Okay, so... what did happen out there? Tell me the full story! Now!”
“I didn’t do nothin’! At least I think I didn’t. I really don’t know! Look, it was durin’ th’ party, right? And all of us were there. I think you invited half the town or somethin’.”
“No, Applejack. I invited the entire town.”
“O-oh. Right then. Well. See, it was after Princess Luna came and did her scare thing and bothered all the children an’ what have you. But I noticed she didn’t stick around. That seemed mighty peculiar, so I looked out the window, and I notice she was walkin’ up to the hill behind the shop. You know the one, with the tree?”
Pinkie nodded.
“So I grabbed a muffin from the table, right? And I put it in a little basket and I cart it up to her.”
“Was it a rude muffin?”
“Cranberry, I think...”
“Applejack! Do-don’t you know that Princesses hate cranberry?”
“No they don’t!”
“Alright... they... they don’t. But...”
“Pinkie, are you gonna listen or not?”
“I’m listening! Sorry! I’m just really nervous!”
“Don’t be annoyin’! Anyway. I bring the muffin up to the hill, right? And well, she’s just sittin’ there. Ain’t doin’ much. Just sittin’ by herself and lookin’ at the stars, I think. Or maybe the castle. I weren’t too sure. I didn’t really pay it any mind back then.”
“Was there anypony else around?”
“Nope. Just me and her. In fact, I don’t think she even heard me comin’, because when I came up that hill, she got mighty shocked. I cleared my throat all polite-like and put the basket down, and she swung around all of a sudden, like seein’ another pony up there was the last thing she would’a expected.”
“That couldn’t have been it... could it?”
“I don’t know... well, in any case, I tell her... I asked her if she wanted to come join th’ party. I said we had plenty of space and loads of food, and she might enjoy herself...”
“Do you think you were being too forward? Maybe she got insulted that you tried to get her to mingle with... common folk!”
“Well... I tried to be polite, you know? I was thinkin’, maybe she could be one of th’ gang. I didn’t mean t’ say she was just a common pony. I mean, even Princess Celestia likes to hang out once in a while, right? I was just offerin’ Princess Luna the same consideration, that’s all. Maybe she just took it the wrong way.”
“How did she respond?”
“Well she sorta gave one of those haughty laughs, you know – the kind she always does. And she told me just the one thing. ‘My place ain’t with you.’ And then she turned away and looked at the stars again.”
“That... that doesn’t sound like her!”
“I’m paraphrasin’, Pinkie!”
“Oh... right! Of course! And um... what happened next?”
“Well, all I says was that she could come down any time, and that we’d be mighty glad to have her. So I turn and walk away, and I guess she never came.”
“Nope... I didn’t see her at the party. But that does explain something else.”
“What?”
“During the clean-up after the party, I found a muffin with one bite taken out of it in a basket on top of the hill. I thought maybe Derpy had an accident again, but...”
“She didn’t even take the muffin with her, huh.”
“I’m sorry, Applejack. I guess she didn’t.”
“Well... and then that very night, I get my first weird dream. It weren’t nothin’ back then and for the next couple’a days. I don’t even remember them. I didn’t wake up cryin’ or nothin’, I just remember them bein’... odd. And then the fourth night is when all of this started, and... that’s when I came to see you.”
“That’s really suspicious, Applejack.”
“I think I said this enough times, Pinkie, but everything’s suspicious, ain’t it? It’s just the problem that it ain’t swingin’ far enough in either direction.”
Two ponies sat in silence.
For a long while, they thought.
For a long while, they stuck pieces together.
“Applejack?”
“Yeah, Pinkie?”
“Something’s still bothering me about all of this.”
“What?”
“The rules.”
“The rules.”
“Yep. It’s like everything is backwards.”
“Backwards, huh.”
“Yep.”
“In what way?”
“I don’t know yet. But it just feels... backwards.”
More silence ensued.
“Like last night’s dream, Applejack.”
“What about it?”
“The dresses. The whole dream itself.”
“What about them?”
“Can you describe a few more dresses for me?”
“Like, from th’ party? Well the-”
“No, I mean... in general. Make up a dress for me. Describe for me a beautiful dress... one that would look great in the party.”
“Uh... oh. Well... I mean... um...”
“Yes?”
“Purple.”
“‘Purple’?”
“And... um... pleats.”
“Purple pleats?”
“Ye...yeah.”
“You don’t even know what a pleat is, do you?”
“Not really, no.”
“See, that’s my point! You’re awful at making up dresses!”
“Why... thank you, Pinkie. I think.”
“No! I mean... it just isn’t your thing! So out of all the dreams you could be dreaming of, why did you dream of a fancy party with fancy clothes and fancy masks? How could you even dream of it? You can’t dream of things you can’t normally think up of in real life!”
“You know, you have a point there, Pinkie. I did sorta feel off in the dreams somehow. It’s like... there’s only me and Princess Luna who would be able to break the script, right? And that’s ‘cause we’re the only two real ponies in the whole thing, right?”
“Yes, that seems correct.”
“But... I did a test last night. When I pulled the mask off’a one of the other guests... they reacted to him just like they did to me when I pulled off my own.”
“So what are you saying?”
“It felt like I was just... one of the crowd.”
“Huh.”
“And not just in this dream too... remember the night before? When I was telling you about the town and how I felt like I was meant to be only in that one house? But the rest of the dream was ‘made’?”
“Yeah... so you’re saying that your dreams are... catering to Princess Luna?”
“It almost seems like that, Pinkie. But I’m sure there’s something I’m overlookin’ here. Like, why am I in th’ smaller position? Why ain’t the dreams about me? If Princess Luna were tryin’ t’ punish me, I’d still be... front and center, wouldn’t I?”
“You would!”
“And there’s how the dream started this time. Remember how we used to think it was about the door? Well this time I didn’t touch the door. Not at all. And the dream still started. So I think... I think it weren’t anythin’ to do with the door in the end.”
“Huh.”
“That door... everytime I look at it though... I get this strange sense of calm and peace. Weird thing. It’s like... there’s somethin’ very familiar about that door. Like I know that door. But I could never push it open. And... I don’t know, Pinkie. I’m very sure that door’s got somethin’ to do with all this. If I figure out how to get it open...”
“Huh.”
“Pinkie?”
“Huh?”
“Have you been listenin’?”
“Yuh!”
“Uh...”
“I mean, yes! Sorry! I have been. But I was just thinking of something. About what you said.”
“Willin’ t’ take whatever I can get at this point, Pinkie.”
“Well, you can’t go see Princess Luna in real life because she might be doing this to you on purpose, right? So she’ll just deny it if she were. And you can’t go see Princess Celestia because we don’t have enough proof...”
“Yep.”
“But that’s only in real life.”
“What are you gettin’ at, Pinkie?”
“All this while you’ve just been running around in your dreams and trying to figure it all out... but... have you tried to communicate with Princess Luna... in your dreams, that is?”
“Communicate with her in my dreams?”
“Yeah! I mean... so far this could be anything at this point, right? We just have a couple of theories... why not try to talk to her in your dream itself? Scootaloo said she had no problems doing that, so... why haven’t you just tried asking directly? That way, if it isn’t Princess Luna, or whatever, we’ll find out! Or... you know, a bunch of other logical things!”
“W-well... I must admit I hadn’t really thought’a that. I mean... I can’t talk in my dreams, you know?”
“You can’t?”
“Yeah. Didn’t I mention this before? I can’t talk. I try to sometimes, but nothin’ comes out.”
“See, this is what I meant earlier by ‘backwards’! It’s more backwards stuff! You should be the only pony to be able to say what you want! I mean, it’s your dream!”
“Wait... wait a minute.”
“What?”
Applejack sat upright, eyes widening.
She looked through the journal, pages flying frantically.
“What you just said, Pinkie...”
“W...what?”
“It... well... if this is what’s going on, then it fits, doesn’t it?”
“What does?”
“You were right too!”
“About what?”
“About... everythin’! I do have to go back to the start. I do have to look at all of this backwards!”
“Applejaaaaack! Tell me what’s going oooooonnnn!”
“I figured it out, Pinkie! At least, I think I did. Oh no. Oh no...”
“What, what’s wrong?”
“Oh... Pinkie. If this is right...”
An odd look fell upon Applejack’s face.
“I’m... well, I’m just glad that we didn’t do anythin’ stupid.”
“Do what?”
Applejack stared at the wall.
“We were wrong... about a lot of things. I... I have to fix this. I gotta do somethin’ about it. I can’t just leave it like this...”
“You aren’t making any sense, Applejack! Talk to me! Look at me!”
“I have to communicate with her, Pinkie. I have to communicate! You have’ta teach me somethin’ about... making things! Can I make things in dreams?”
“I’m not telling you!”
“Wh-what? Why?”
“Because you’re not telling me your thing!”
Applejack blinked.
“Oh! Well, why didn’t y’just ask?”
“Applejaaaaccccckk!”
“Listen... this might sound weird, but... this is th’ way I figure it. And if it happens t’ be the case, all I’ll need is t’ show her something tonight...”
“Tonight?”
“Yeah, I’m goin’ back in. Because if I’m right?”
“W-what?”
“Then it’s all gonna be over real soon, Pinkie.”
Stats
Page generated in 0.015 seconds
Total duration
689 users online
895,938 hits today, 2,073,628 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
I think I've figured it all out... This isn't Applejack dreaming at all! The fear she feels is just what her role is supposed to feel, and the sadness is the feeling the dreamer is supposed to be left with! Sadness and guilt, and a longing to see her family and friends! The real dreamer is Luna, and AJ is stuck in the crowd.
I believe this should be "unidentifiable".
2875212
A strange way to connect with others...
I'm getting Grand Galloping Gala, or something like it, over a thousand years ago. I mean, obviously it's a fancy party, but that gold and silver dust seems to imply that it is both princesses hosting.
I wonder if AJ shall be playing a role directly out of Luna's memories tonight? I wonder what happens when one asks Luna to dreamwalk to investigate a dream she is unintentionally creating out of her own memories?
Oh. I guess the party's over. Long since over, from the look of that velvet.
So probably not a direct memory, then. Just something constructed out of old times and the idea of decay.
Alone in a crowd. Too exalted to be loved. Too important to enjoy herself.
And then a millennium alone with naught but her demons for company. Is it any wonder her subconscious has taken matters into its own hooves?
Is this enough? Will they now suspect?
That's a yes, then. That's good.
". . . But I wish it were."
And now the situation is known. What does AJ intend to do? What does one do, when one finds oneself a player in a princess's dreams?
>>Talguy21
I think you might be on to something, but there's something else, too.
Luna is definitely the one who is supposed to be dreaming (which is why things exist that AJ isn't supposed to see), but why is she projecting those dreams? Is she doing it on purpose? If not, then why Applejack? Or is this only affecting Applejack? Also: In the earlier dreams, Luna wasn't present in a recognisable form. Why?
Too many questions... there's just too many questions!