Lost in Her Eyes

by Clavier

Chapter 8

She was lost again. Lost in those deep, green eyes. Quite literally, in fact, as her remote viewing spell once again found an odd position to look from, filling the crystal ball she was using as a refractor with a green glow. Although it gave a rather nice ambiance to the room, it did little to let her in on just what was going on at the other end.

Huffing, she decided that something more drastic needed to be done. If she couldn’t get the spell to lock on somewhere useful in the first place, she’d just have to move it. Of course, it wasn’t supposed to be movable … but that would just have to be trick number fifty-seven on her list. After a moment of concentration, she closed her eyes, seeing with the faint magenta glow that emanated from her horn. She could visualize the channel her magic took to its destination like a magenta kite string floating in the void.

She imagined putting her hoof out to the string. With a small degree of trepidation, she gave it a tug.

Poof!

The soot that now covered her face and chest, as well as the crystal ball and a fair portion of the library, seemed a fair indication that her little trick hadn’t worked. She coughed, at first perturbed and annoyed, but then just amused by the situation. She chuckled softly and went to her desk to add “clean up soot” to her to-do list for the next day, before being interrupted in these activities by a pink blur.

“Twilight! I heard an explosion! Are you OK? Were you doing something super-cool and you didn’t tell me about it?”

This made Twilight’s chuckle grow into a full laugh. “Sorry, Pinkie, I was just trying a new spell.”

Her laugh vanished as she realized something. “Oh no, I think I may have broken your crystal ball. I’m so sorry, I really didn’t think I would damage it.”

Pinkie laughed. “That’s OK, Twilight, it never really worked anyway.”

Her little blunder was turning into quite the late-night party, in fact, as Rarity and Fluttershy, having presumably not been far, entered the library with a trifle more civility than Pinkie Pie had. “Oh,” Rarity breathed, relieved, “I’m so glad you’re alright. You really must stop worrying us like that!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I was just trying my remote viewing spell. I was so concerned about Rainbow Dash earlier, and I wanted to see if she was feeling better, so I developed a spell that would let me see any pony from a great distance. It doesn’t seem to work, though, I kept getting caught up on some–”

“Eep!” Fluttershy had blown a bit of the soot off the crystal ball, which was intact under the layer of debris, and was now glowing a bright red, sinking into the ground with her hooves over her eyes.

The spell had, in fact, worked. There in the crystal ball, projected for everypony to see, was Rainbow Dash. And Applejack. In what appeared to be a rather intimate situation. Rainbow lay on her back, Applejack straddling her, mane unkempt and flowing over the pair. Twilight hadn’t thought too far ahead about what kind of scene she might intrude upon, and furthermore was now too overjoyed by the success of her spell to realize how invasive she was being.

“Yes! Yes yes yes yes yes it worked!” She bounded around the small table in a Pinkie-Pie-like fit of jubilance.

Pinkie Pie herself, never one to refuse a bit of harmless voyeurism, stared at the pair entirely unabashed, an accomplished grin on her face.

“Oh, my goodness! I really shouldn’t intrude. Oh dear; come now, Rarity, it isn’t proper. But it’s so much fun… no! Your friends’ private lives are their own business! But it’s not like I was trying to intrude… that doesn’t matter! Does it? Maybe it does! And besides, I was worried about them, I’m just being a good friend!” With each sentence of Rarity’s absurd soliloquy, she put a hoof in front of one of her eyes, but simultaneously removed the hoof from her other eye, assuring that her vision was at no point meaningfully obscured. Whichever eye was unobstructed never wandered an inch from the projection at the center of the room.

Even Fluttershy had, through unmitigable curiosity, raised her head. But her expression wasn’t as aloof as the others’. Her eyes were wide, her mouth hanging slightly open in a small frown.

“Girls…”

The others didn’t notice her, still entranced by their own interpretations of the scene.

“Girls, something is wrong.”

This managed to get Pinkie’s attention, but the other two were still lost in their gaiety.

She finally raised her voice. “Girls!”

Everypony knew that when Fluttershy raised her voice, it was serious. Twilight stopped mid-bound, Rarity put both hooves to the ground, Pinkie Pie affected a concerned expression, and all three looked at Fluttershy.

She was soft again, and her voice shook. “Applejack’s crying.”

Now all four were burdened by Fluttershy’s anxiety, glancing briefly at each other before looking once more into the projected image of their friends. It was hard to tell in the small crystal ball and through the thick golden mane, but indeed, Applejack seemed to be crying.

After a moment to take in the scene in this new light, Rarity added, “Rainbow Dash isn’t moving.”

In a brilliant magenta flash, Twilight was gone before she’d even thought to leave. She appeared seconds later, not far from Applejack and Rainbow.

“– you, Dash! Not like this, not in some Celestia-forsaken forest where nopony’ll ever–”

Twilight cut her off, nearly as frantic as the farmpony. “Applejack! What happened?!”

Applejack jumped and almost fell to the ground at this unexpected but welcome interruption. “Twilight! What the hay are– never mind, Rainbow’s hurt, Ah don’t know how bad, ye gotta do somethin’! If ye zapped yerself over here, ye can zap her to a hospital, right?”

She frowned at this, crinkling her nose and considering what needed to be done. “No, I could only get here because I teleported through the magical channel established by my remote viewing spell. Can you lift her?”

“Yer what now? No, never mind, no time.” To answer her question, Applejack flipped Rainbow’s limp form onto her back in a quick, powerful motion. Twilight winced slightly at the display, fearing further damage, but as had been established, there wasn’t time to worry about that.

It seemed like a flash of colors and cries. They were back at the treehouse in the blink of an eye; or the glow of a horn, anyway. The whole group galloped for the hospital, frantic with concern over their friend, paying no heed to the startled ponies they roused in their loud midnight run.

Pinkie Pie nearly knocked down the door to the hospital’s emergency room, then held it open as Applejack galloped through, still carefully balancing Rainbow. The receptionist glanced up, and immediately judged the severity of the situation, waving her hooves frantically both to direct the the group to a room and to signal doctors and nurses to follow them. Their frenzy finally came to a halt as Applejack slid her precious cargo onto a plain, sterile bed, then collapsed to the ground from the strain.

Although the group’s frantic run was now over, it was replaced by the bustling of a bevy of uniformed ponies, poking and prodding at Rainbow’s body with instruments of all description. The group shifted about, trying to stay out of everypony’s way, but a grey unicorn stallion with a trim pink mane made it abundantly clear that they were failing in this attempt.

He spoke in a stern tenor. “Alright, everypony who’s not on my medical staff, get out.”

They had only begun to shuffle out of the room when he interrupted them, pointing a hoof with an intensity that seemed almost accusatory. “Except you.”

Fluttershy shrunk into a corner with a terrified squeak.

“You’re a friend of the patient, yes?”

Her high-pitched squeal seemed vaguely affirmative.

“Healthy female pegasus?”

Another affirmative noise.

“Congratulations, you’ve just volunteered to be our blood donor. Prep her, nurse.”

The nurse, a dark green earth stallion, was a bit more sensitive, forming it as a soft-spoken request instead of a command. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, but we really could use you.”

Fluttershy calmed somewhat, taking a few deep breaths. Regaining her composure, she spoke emphatically. “No. I mean, yes! Anything if it’ll help Rainbow!”

He smiled warmly and led her from the room. The doctor’s icy glare led the others.

They soon found themselves glancing cursorily at each other in the hospital’s waiting room. It was an unsettlingly bleak environment, even for Twilight’s non-aesthetically-minded tastes. There were scattered works of drab art, each far too glaringly colorful to not be an obvious attempt at bringing happiness to a tense environment. She could almost see the enthusiastic but incompetent interior designer blathering about how green is a soothing color. It did little to soothe her.

Applejack looked nervous, and more than a little bit scared. Her mane was still down, but now disheveled in stringy locks, which she chewed on nervously. She rocked back and forth in her seat, staring at the thin green carpet.

“Applejack?” Twilight approached her somewhat timidly. “Are you OK?”

She looked up, and allowed her hair to fall from her mouth. She looked terrible; her eyes were bloodshot, her limbs shaky, and her mane and coat were a complete mess.

She spoke softly, painfully. “Ah love her, Twilight.”

Pinkie Pie and Rarity looked up at this comment, the former exuding giddiness from every pink pore, barely able to contain her excitement even to give the moment its necessary respect.

“Ah … Ah think Ah always have. Ah just never thought about it. Never really looked at it. All the time we spent together, all the jibes and jeers and competitions.” She made a pained noise that was almost like a laugh. “Ah always wanted to be with her. Ah’m such a fool.”

What little strength was left in her broke, and tears were streaming down her cheeks as she lifted her gaze to match Twilight’s. “Ah love her and Ah never even told her.”

Pinkie Pie gasped dramatically, then pounced on the dejected mare. “Don’t talk like that! She’s going to be just fine!”

“Oh,” Applejack huffed, “and just how d’ya know that?”

“Because if she’s not, this would be a TERRIBLE love story, and I worked WAY too hard for this to be a terrible love story!”

In spite of how utterly nonsensical that statement had been, it visibly lifted Applejack’s spirits somewhat to have such dedicated and supportive friends. On Pinkie’s cue, the group came together in a clumsy hug.

“Let’s just wait, Applejack,” Twilight suggested, putting on a compassionate but somewhat artificial grin. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”

The hug ended and the group once again took their separate seats, looking a bit less down but still anxious. Time passed incredibly slowly, and worse, there was no obvious clock in the room to judge how slowly it was passing. Twilight always felt trapped when she didn’t know the time, and this was no different. She twiddled her hooves and glanced periodically at her friends, only to find them doing more or less the same. Nopony spoke for what must have been hours.

She jumped at the sound of a door opening. Fluttershy stumbled through it, almost falling over, then walked uneasily in the general direction of Applejack. She lost her footing in the process, and tripped into Twilight.

“Oh,” she whimpered, slowly, “I’m so, so sorry.” She looked pale.

Twilight’s heart dropped. She looked up at Applejack, to see the most horrified expression she’d ever seen the farmer wear. She couldn’t bring herself to look to the others, especially as Applejack began to shake again, moving her mouth as if to form words, but with no sound.

Fluttershy blinked, looking at her hooves. “I’m kind of dizzy.”

Twilight was confused. “Fluttershy?”

“The doctor said she’s going to be alright. My blood’s compatible. In fact, she’ll be free to go as soon as the surgery’s over!”

Applejack’s relief was almost tangible as she leapt from her seat, nearly crushing Fluttershy in her embrace. “Thank you, thank you Fluttershy!”

She could barely speak through the hug, but wheezed out, “It was the least I could do.”

Applejack pulled away with a beaming grin. “Ah love her, Fluttershy.”

“Oh,” she smiled sheepishly, “I know.”

---

Author's note: I'll be out of town for two weeks soon, so I wanted to get this finished before then. With a bit of luck and no small token of magic, I'll have the next and final chapter up tomorrow.

P.S.: What, you thought Pinkie Pie would grow a fourth wall just for my story?

Comments

[ArcaneTrex]

...
final chapter?
YEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

[Clavier]

681491
Glad you're so happy to see it go.

[Solar Flicker]

Nice.

[ShiningNova]

I was reading along and enjoying myself until this chapter...

now I'm absolutely hooked I was like omg Rainbow has to be ok she just has to

anyway excellent job thus far, onto the next

[LurkingToRead]

“Oh, my goodness! I really shouldn’t intrude. Oh dear; come now, Rarity, it isn’t proper. But it’s so much fun… no! Your friends’ private lives are their own business! But it’s not like I was trying to intrude… that doesn’t matter! Does it? Maybe it does! And besides, I was worried about them, I’m just being a good friend!” With each sentence of Rarity’s absurd soliloquy, she put a hoof in front of one of her eyes, but simultaneously removed the hoof from her other eye, assuring that her vision was at no point meaningfully obscured. Whichever eye was unobstructed never wandered an inch from the projection at the center of the room.

This just a great bit of characterization. It’s absolutely what Rarity would do.