> A Song of Ponyville
>  by PonyJosiah13
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Memories and Mornings
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The spotlights were hot and glaring, like a dozen suns aimed down at her. The stallion dancers twisted and gyrated around her, their bodies brushing against hers, their tails drawing against her chin: they reeked of cologne and sweat.

She sang through the plastic grin on her makeup-covered face, staring out through her elaborately-done coquettish manestyle at the audience. The ponies’ faces were all shrouded in shadows, but she could feel their lascivious gazes on her, traveling up and down the curves that her silk costume outlined.

“Why don’t you do right?” she crooned to her admirers, reaching out to stroke one of her accompanying dancers beneath the chin as the chords from the piano and bass shivered in ecstasy. “Like some other stallions...do?” She held out the note for several seconds while the musicians ended the song with a flourish, the dancers around her striking dramatic poses as the spotlights dimmed. She tilted her shoulder to the side, lowering her chin in a sultry manner, her silhouette backlit by lights behind her. The velvet curtain dropped as the audience erupted into cheers and whistles.

As soon as the show lights turned off and the stage runner lights flashed on, Coloratura broke free from the surrounding dancers and started to walk quickly towards the backstage; her face ached from the false smile and her mane was starting to drip with sweat. Spots danced in front of her gaze every time she blinked, and she could feel her stomach starting to turn inside her.

Must get home. Must get back to the apartment. Feel better there.

“Countess! Where are you going?” a familiar voice called behind her.

Coloratura stopped, closing her eyes and groaning. Not him. Anypony but him.

She turned around to see a white earth pony with a salmon pink mane and thick glasses walking towards her, adjusting his silk tie.

“I need to get back home, Svengallop,” Coloratura said, trying not to let her voice drop into a pleading tone. “I’m so tired, and we have another show tomorrow. I need to rest.”

“There’s just one more thing you need to do before you can go, Countess,” Svengallop said in his falsely reassuring tone, draping a foreleg around her and gently trapping her to his side as he started to walk her towards the back door of the stage. “There’s a great crowd of reporters outside, and they’re all waiting for a chance to photograph you. This is a wonderful chance for some press coverage!”

Coloratura looked over her shoulder at the fire exit door, which was rapidly retreating out of her reach. “But--”

“Tut, tut, Countess!” Svengallop cut her off. “What have I always told you? Too much attention is never enough! Both of our careers depend on your making appearances for the media!”

Coloratura’s protest died in her throat; it was too late, the backdoor to the stage was fast approaching. In the span of the last few steps, she took in a breath and forced herself to stand upright, tilting her head back at a contemptuous angle and raising her weary legs with every step. Once again, the mask was on. Once again, she was the Countess.

The doors opened and she was immediately blitzed by the reporters, bombarded by the constant, blinding supernovas of flashbulbs and a constant barrage of questions and calls for her to turn this way and that for a photo.

“Let us through, let us through!” Svengallop declared, pushing his way through. The Countess tilted her head back, strutting across the crowd, seemingly unaffected by the attention. The constant shouts made her head pound; the blinding lights made her stomach spin.

A few more steps and she finally reached the waiting limousine. She climbed into the backseat and the door closed behind her. With a relieved sigh, Coloratura collapsed into the cushioned leather as the limo drove off, taking her back to her apartment. Just a little longer, she promised herself.

Finally, they reached the apartment building, a grandiose white marble edifice that stretched up to touch the skies. Coloratura tossed her driver a tip as she climbed out. The evening wind felt cold and harsh on her clammy skin and she had to force herself not to run to the door. She pushed through the revolving door and entered the carpeted lobby.

“Good evening, Countess!” the young, slightly pimply doorpony said cheerfully, waving from behind the counter. Coloratura managed to nod as she walked across to the waiting elevator. She stepped into the metal box and the doors slid shut behind her. With a shudder, the elevator started to climb up towards the top floor.

Deep breaths, Coloratura. We’re almost there.

A minute later, the doors dinged and opened wide. Coloratura stumbled out and walked down the hallway. Her keys jingled in her hoof until she found the correct one and inserted it into the keyhole. The door opened and she climbed inside, slamming the door shut behind her. She walked into the living room and flopped down onto the bright ivory white sofa, panting.

In front of her was a maple coffee table with a set of locked drawers on the bottom. She unlocked the left one and pulled it open. Inside lay a small mirror, a short metal straw, and a plastic bag. She plucked out all three items and set the mirror on the table. Opening the bag, she poured out a small amount of the contents onto the mirror: a line of pale red powder. Taking the straw, she inserted it into one nostril and bent over the table, inhaling the powder.

Instantly, the red poppydust worked its magic. Her stomach settled and her head stopped spinning; a feeling of calm spread across her body, making her crawling skin settle. Her heartbeat slowed and she let out a contented sigh.

“Much better,” she said, allowing her eyes to roll towards the ceiling. The lights of the chandelier over her head danced and sparkled in a dazzling array of colors, every shade in the rainbow and a few beyond.

Her throat suddenly felt very dry and itchy. Smacking her lips. Coloratura stood up and stumbled over to the kitchen. The fridge loomed up in front of her and she opened it up. Her prize was set right in front of her, in the middle shelf: four glass brown bottles. She snatched one up and stuck it into the bottle opener attached to the fridge door, snapping the cap off. Tilting her head back, she guzzled down a large gulp of the cider inside. Immediately, she felt like she was floating off the ground. A relaxed, contented smile spread across her face; the world around her started to dissolve into a blur of colors.

“Pretty…” Coloratura giggled, stumbling back into the living room. She took another sip of the cider and the remnants of her back and hoof pain vanished into the past. She flopped down onto the couch, the cider splashing everywhere. Giggling, Coloratura rolled over and placed the bottle on the table with a clunk. She reached out for the plastic bag, picking it up on the third try, and shakily poured out another line onto the mirror. She took the straw and after accidentally poking herself in the eye, stuck it up her nostril and inhaled the line. The powder made her nose burn and itch and she let out a sneeze that rapidly turned into a fit of giggling. Her body relaxed completely and the floating sensation spread all the way down to the tip of her tail. Laying back down on the couch and rolling over onto her back, she turned and watched the chandelier dancing over her head. She reached out with a hoof, trying to touch the pretty lights over her head.

“Whoa…” she suddenly moaned as a swooping feeling seized her, making her feel like she was in a crashing airplane. “I don’t feel so good anymore…”

The lights were becoming too blinding, spinning too fast; they made her eyes hurt. She closed her eyes and in moments, the world faded away from her.





Rara opened her eyes. The sunlight streaming in through the window made her blink and raise a hoof to shield her face. The quilt covering her body, which was decorated with apples and hearts, fell off her shoulders as she sat up and looked around. She was laying on an old but solidly built bed in the middle of a simple bedroom. A single round carpet sat in the middle of the floor; opposite her was a desk and chair and a dresser, with a wardrobe next to it. Birds sang outside her window, and she smelled cooking pancakes through the door.

The dream...no, the memory faded away like sand slipping in between her hooves, but for a moment before she sat up completely, she almost felt her head spinning. The taste of alcohol lingered on her tongue, and the scent of red poppydust itched at her nostrils.

She shook her head and banished those thoughts from her head. No more of that. She’d left that life far behind her, and she was never going back. Standing up fully, she walked to the door and pushed it open, shaking her untidy mane out of her eyes. No more waking up in the mornings with a headache the size of Manehattan and blurry, spinning vision. This was much more preferable.

She opened up the door and proceeded down the hallway to the stairs. As she proceeded down, each step creaking beneath her hooves, she could hear a familiar voice humming. Rounding the corner at the bottom of the stairs, she walked into a small kitchen-dining room combo with a small table surrounded by hoof-carved chairs. An orange mare with long blonde hair was standing at the oven, humming around the handle of the pan in her mouth. Grinning, Rara snuck up behind the mare on tiphoof and grasped her around the middle.

Applejack squeaked in surprise and turned around to immediately receive a kiss on the nose. “Good morning,” Rara smiled.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Applejack smiled, nuzzling her. “It’s long past sunrise.”

“Some of us like to sleep,” Coloratura replied. Applejack smelt of sweat and dirt and leaves; she’d been working hard before breakfast.

“Can’t keep the farm running if we don’t work for it, darlin’,” Applejack commented, scooping the flapjacks out of the pan and onto one of five waiting plates. The other four were already loaded with stacks of warm, fresh pancakes. Applejack and Coloratura carried the plates over to the table and placed them on the top in a circle. No sooner had they finished when there came the sound of rapid, light hoofsteps from the stairs.

“Pancakes!” Apple Bloom cried with joy as she bounded into the kitchen, her hair bow bouncing with every step. “My favorite!”

“Well, you’re not eating all of them, greedy-guts,” Applejack laughed, tousling her little sister’s mane. “Now, go call your brother in for breakfast.”

Apple Bloom dashed out of the room and Rara heard the front door open and close. “Mac! Breakfast is ready!” Apple Bloom’s voice called. Apple Bloom raced back inside the kitchen almost before the front door had closed and hopped up onto her seat on the table.

With a yawn and a grumble, Granny Smith wandered into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. “You whippersnappers, making so much noise,” she croaked. “Can’t an old mare get her sleep around here?”

“Sorry, Granny, but we just didn’t want you to miss breakfast,” Applejack said, pulling out a chair for Granny Smith. Granny clambered up into the seat with a grunt.

The front door opened with a creak of hinges and heavy hoofsteps sounded from the front door. Big Mac clambered through the doorway into the kitchen, almost having to stoop to avoid hitting his head on the door.

“Big Mac, I swear, you’re getting more like your pa every day,” Granny Smith said with a smile as Big Mac walked up to the table.

“Eeyup,” Big Mac nodded, opening the icebox and pulling out a large jug of milk. He carried it over to the table as Rara passed out glasses and poured everypony milk.

Apple Bloom immediately dug into her pancakes like a starving pony. “Whoa, slow down there, sugarcube!” Applejack laughed.

“I gotta get ready for school, AJ,” Apple Bloom said through a mouthful of pancakes and maple syrup.

“Were you raised in a barn, young filly?” Granny asked, raising an eyebrow at Apple Bloom.

Apple Bloom swallowed. “Sorry, Granny,” she apologized.

Rara giggled behind her hoof. “These are good, AJ,” she said, cutting up another slice of her stack.

“Thanks,” Applejack nodded.

“Can Rara walk me to school today?” Apple Bloom asked eagerly.

“I’d love to,” Rara said, looking to Applejack.

Applejack pondered it for a moment, then nodded. “All right.”

“Yay!” Apple Bloom cheered.

“You’d best hustle up,” Applejack said, glancing up at the bright red clock on the wall. “It’s almost time for you to be going.”

“Okay!” Apple Bloom said. She quickly scarfed down the rest of her breakfast, gulped down her milk, and pulled away from the table, headed up the stairs.

Rara laughed quietly. “She reminds me a lot of you when we were fillies,” she said to Applejack.

“Funny, I was gonna say that she reminds me a lot of you,” Applejack smirked. “Especially during chow call.”

“I wasn’t that messy of an eater!” Rara protested.

“Remember that time you got jam all over your beanie and I had to help you wash it?” Applejack laughed.

Rara felt her cheeks color. “Okay, maybe I was kind of messy…”

Big Mac and Applejack both laughed. “Don’t make me flick my pancakes at you,” Rara said, finishing up her breakfast. Wiping off her face with a napkin, Rara took the plates and her glass over to the sink and dropped them off to be washed later. Passing by Applejack, she leaned in and closed her eyes. Applejack responded in kind, closing in to kiss her on the mouth. The embrace tasted of maple syrup and milk; Applejack’s lips were soft and warm on hers.

“Apple Bloom!” Granny called up the stairs, breaking up the moment. “You’re gonna be late for school! Move your caboose, missy!”

“I’m coming!” Apple Bloom called, clambering down the stairs. She reappeared in the kitchen, adjusting the saddlebags that she’d tossed over her shoulders. “Come on, Rara!”

“Be safe out there,” Applejack said as Rara exited. “Have fun at school, Apple Bloom!”

“I’ll be back soon,” Rara said, waving goodbye as she followed Apple Bloom out the door. “Apple Bloom, wait for me!” she shouted, chasing after the filly.

“Race you to school!” Apple Bloom laughed, bouncing ahead.

Laughing along with her, Rara chased after her, the cool, sun-kissed gentle northern wind dancing through her mane and tail as she ran. Their race left a trail of dust on the road behind them as they wound down the dirt road towards the main street.

No crowds of reporters, no lustful crowds always baying for more, no itch of poppydust or burning thirsts. This was much more preferable to her old life.
> Walk and Wine
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Apple Bloom eventually became tired from running and settled for prancing alongside Rara as she led them down the semi-paved roads of northwestern Ponyville. Far from the concrete, brick, and steel of Ponyville’s core, these northern farmlands were a place of serenity; the air was clean and clear and there was the sound of birdsong coming from the trees that lined the streets. They passed by Berry Punch’s Vineyard: over the low fence, they could see Berry and her wife, Minuette, out gathering grapes along with the help of a few hired hooves. Berry’s daughter, Berry Pinch, was waiting beside the gate. The gate had a white arch over it, from which hung a low sign that read “Berry’s Vineyard.”

“Hi, Berry!” Apple Bloom called, trotting up.

“Hi, Apple Bloom!” Berry replied, adjusting her backpack as she ran up. “You ready for that pop quiz?”

Apple Bloom’s eyes widened and the color drained from her face. “P-pop quiz?! Miss Cheerilee didn’t say anything about--”

Berry laughed loudly. “Ah, you’re too easy,” she snorted, shaking her head and falling into step alongside Rara. “Hi, Miss Coloratura.”

“Hello, Berry,” Rara greeted her, waving to Berry and Minuette as they walked past. “How’re you?”

“Pretty good,” Berry said. “Mom says we’re gonna have a…” She frowned in thought. “...bummer crop this year.”

“Bumper crop,” Apple Bloom corrected her.

Berry Pinch stuck out her tongue at her. “Little Miss Smarty-Bow.”

“Jelly Face,” Apple Bloom shot back.

“Apple Breath!”

“Grape Sucker!”

“Seed Spitter!”

“Girls!” Rara cut in.

“We’re just messing around, Rara,” Apple Bloom said, grinning at Berry Pinch. “Right, Berry?”

“Apple Bloom tells me that you and Miss Applejack were pretty…” Once again Berry paused and frowned while she struggled to figure out the right word. “...’drowsy’ kids when you were our age.”

“Rowdy,” Rara giggled. “And yes, I suppose we were pretty good at getting into trouble when we were together at Friendship Camp.”

“Did I tell you this one story Applejack told me about when they tried to sneak into the freezer where they hid the ice cream?” Apple Bloom asked Berry, giggling.

“Oh, no, Apple Bloom, please…” Rara protested, blushing.

“So while everypony was doing their free time activities, Rara and Applejack snuck on over to the back of the chow hall,” Apple Bloom narrated. “Rara climbed up on top of Applejack’s shoulders and she started trying to shimmy herself into the window. Just as she managed to squeeze partway through, though, Applejack slipped and landed on her face in the mud, and Rara got herself stuck! They made so much noise that a counselor came running, and found AJ covered in mud and Rara stuck in the window, with her hindquarters sticking out into the air!”

Both fillies laughed as Rara felt her entire head flush crimson. “The counselors made us wash the dishes for three days,” she muttered, mainly to herself, as neither filly was capable of listening to her at the moment.

Once their laughter died down, the two fillies walked ahead of Rara for a while longer, then Apple Bloom turned. “Say, I never asked,” she said. “How did Applejack find you and get you to come down to the farm?”

“Yeah, weren’t you happy being the Countess?” Berry Pinch added. “I’d have thought it’d be a dream come true for you, getting to sing to a massive crowd every day, being a big...uh, ‘celerity,’ having your picture in the newspaper all the time…”

You mean being paraded around for everypony to see and bartered and sold like some cheap harlot? Rara almost said aloud. Having almost no privacy, being forced by your manager to wear a mask and read from a script every day, having your creativity stifled day by day ‘for the good of your career’ until the only time you feel in control of yourself, the only time you feel good is when you’re higher than a kite, even though you know you’ll just end up puking and passing out on the bathroom floor? Yeah. Yeah, it was a dream come true.

“Miss Rara? You okay?” she realized Berry Pinch was asking.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Rara donned a mask of a contented smile. “Oh, yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

She looked up and spotted the schoolhouse around the next bend. A remnant of days long past, the single-story schoolhouse was constructed of bright red wood with a bell tower and clock atop the structure. Foals and fillies, their ages ranging from 6 to 18, were filing into the front doors. Beside the doors stood an earth pony mare with a purple coat and light pink hair, smiling as she greeted her charges.

“Good morning, Miss Cheerilee,” Rara greeted her as she approached with her two charges.

“Hello, Rara! Hello, girls!” Cheerilee sang, smiling at them all. “How are you?”

“We’re not having a pop quiz today, are we, Miss Cheerilee?” Apple Bloom asked, the worry clear in her voice and eyes.

“That depends,” Cheerilee said. “Did you read the material?”

“...yes?” Apple Bloom squeaked. Rara had to stifle a giggle behind her hoof.

“We’ll see about that,” Cheerilee said. Apple Bloom and Berry Pinch both slumped in disappointment, groaning.

“Now, come along, you two,” Cheerilee declared. “We’re going to be late for class.”

“Have a good day, girls!” Rara called as the fillies trudged inside. With a final nod to Cheerilee, Rara turned and started to walk back up the pathway towards the street.

A young foal was standing at the street corner, waving a newspaper in the air, one of several that he was carrying in a pair of large saddlebags that made his shoulders seem much smaller than they actually were. “Foal Free Press! Foal Free Press! Read all about it!” he shouted.

Extracting a bit from her purse, Rara walked up and handed the foal the coin, receiving a smile and a newspaper in exchange. She perused the headlines of the paper as she started the walk back to Sweet Apple Acres.

The front page today declared that the Phoenix Housing Projects had fallen behind schedule due to arson. A photograph of the project’s benefactor, the business mogul Monopoly, looking over the scaffolding of what would be a two-story condo, was splashed across the page. Rara scowled at the sight of the large (fat) stallion giving a small smile underneath his hard hat as another construction worker spoke to him.

Flipping the paper open, Rara scanned over the three-day forecast and the other headlines. She learned that there was an uprising of muggings in the Financial District, a mom-and-pop store that Granny Smith loved going to was going out of business after being bought out by a large brand store (one that, surprise surprise, was owned by Monopoly), the police had no leads in the investigation of an unidentified body that had turned up on a dead-end road in the Dockside, the next three days would be sunny and warm, and the Ponyville Manticores had a shot at the Equestrian hoofball playoffs for the first time in nine years.

Rara became enwrapped in the coupon section and didn’t notice the sign in her path until she bumped into it with a loud thump. She squeaked in pain and surprise as the impact echoed momentarily through her skull and wound up sitting on her rump, holding her forehead as the newspaper’s pages spilled onto the ground around her.

A voice giggled from the gate. “You okay?” Berry Punch asked, striding forward to help Rara up.

“I’m fine,” Rara said, picking herself up and shaking her head.

“See, that’s another reason I don’t read the paper,” Berry snickered, gathering up the pages of the Press and stuffing them back into one another. “Not only am I much happier that way, I don’t get distracted and walk into stuff.”

Rara took the paper back. The pages were all rumpled, some of them were coated in mud, and they were all out of order. Several were upside down or backward. “Thanks,” she grumbled.

“Don’t mention it,” Berry Punch grinned.

“Could you please think about raising that sign a bit?” Rara asked. “It’s honestly dangerous.”

“Not if you’re watching where you’re going,” Berry countered. “Besides, as you just demonstrated, it’s attention-getting.” She snickered.

“Right,” Rara grumbled, scowling.

“Hey, just pulled some new vintage off the shelves,” Berry said, reaching around into her bag to extract a glass bottle filled with a dark purple. The label around the bottle read “Pinot Noir 1941: Berry’s Vineyard.”

Rara was suddenly aware of an itch in her abruptly dry throat. The bottle seemed to glow in the bathing light of the sun, like a small, irresistible jewel.

Just one sip, a voice seemed to whisper. What’s just one sip? 

She shook her head. “No thank you,” she said, walking past.

“You sure?” Berry Punch called after her. Rara’s answer was to quicken her step slightly. “Well, okay then. See you around!” she shouted, walking back into the vineyard.

Rara bustled back to Sweet Apple Acres with the newspaper tucked under her foreleg, her quick steps crunching on the gravel and mud beneath her hooves. She forced herself not to look back; it was not until she passed beneath the white arch and the sign with the simple shape of an apple burnt onto the wood that she felt free of the magnetic pull that lured her back towards the vineyard.
> Cared For
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun made its slow, steady progress across the clear blue sky. While the day was certainly beautiful, it came at the cost of a slow, baking heat that tenderized the ponies underneath the sun’s glow.

Applejack grunted as she bucked backward, striking the trunk of the apple tree behind her. Immediately, several brightly colored apples, their red skins glowing in the sunlight, tumbled from the tree and into the baskets that she’d placed around the tree’s base. Applejack let out a heavy exhalation and doffed her hat for a moment, wiping sweat from her brow. She looked around her. Surrounding her on every side were acres and acres of apple trees, all of them standing proud and tall, bearing fruit. Other ponies were milling about the trees, collecting the apples with the aid of ladders, magic, and wings. A few attempted bucking the trees, but their efforts were only ever half as fruitful as hers at best.

A familiar, sweet voice carried a love song to her ears, instantly bringing a smile to her face as a calming feeling like ice water slowly trickled down her back. Applejack turned to see Big Mac trotting towards her, carrying a wooden cart behind him. Rara was sitting in the back of the cart, eyes closed and head tilted back to enjoy the warm sun on her face, singing in a crystalline voice.

“Hi, AJ!” Rara called as Big Mac pulled up. She reached into a cooler in the cart next to her and pulled out a chilled glass bottle of lemonade. “Thought you and the others could use a drink,” she said, handing the bottle to Applejack.

“Many thanks, sugarcube,” Applejack said, unscrewing the top and draining the contents in one go. The sweet lemon flavor more than parched her thirst and soothed her dry throat. She sighed in satisfaction and wiped her mouth off on her foreleg.

Big Mac hefted up one of the baskets of apples using his mouth with little effort and carried it into the cart, setting it down gently in the back. “Here, let me help,” Rara said, eagerly walking over to another basket. She bent down and grasped the handle in her mouth and started to stand up, only to let out a muffled grunt as the basket refused to come up off the ground. She braced herself and tried to lift it again, grunting with effort.

Stifling her laughter, Applejack walked over to Rara’s side. “Let me help you there, darling,” she said, grabbing the handle in her mouth. The two of them lifted up the basket and carried it over to the cart, Rara huffing and puffing with every step. They both lifted the basket up into the back of the cart and Applejack pushed it further into the back as Rara leaned against the cart, panting.

“I think...I need...to get back...in shape,” Rara puffed, wiping the sweat from her brow.

AJ chuckled. “Work here long enough, you won’t have much of a choice,” she commented as Big Mac hitched himself back to the cart and started to walk back to the main barn.

“Oh, fiddlesticks!” another voice cried. Rara and AJ looked up to see Caramel sprawled on his face a few feet away at the base of a tree. He sat up, rubbing his nose.

“Still trying to applebuck, Caramel?” AJ called, half-laughing to herself.

“I keep slipping on this dang mud,” Caramel grumbled. He stood up and looked back over his shoulder at the tree. Carefully, he shifted his weight onto his forelegs, then lifted both his hind legs off the ground and wildly bucked backward. His hooves struck the tree, with the result being that he pushed himself forward and landed on his face again with an “Oof, dagnabit!”

But no sooner had he said that then a bright red apple detached itself from a branch over his head and fell, landing on his head with a thump. Caramel winced at the pain, then his expression instantly brightened when he realized what he’d done. “Hey, I did it!”

“Good job!” Applejack cheered. “But I see what you’re doing wrong.” She walked up to the tree. “You’re rushing through the movements. You gotta get your weight set on your forelegs, and then kick backward in a controlled manner. Watch.” He turned her back on the tree, carefully positioned her weight on her forelegs, wound up, and bucked backward hard. Her hooves crashed into the tree, causing the solid wood to shake. Apples spilled from the leaves and into the waiting baskets.

“You make it look so easy,” Caramel sighed.

“Just takes a bit of practice,” Applejack said. “‘Course, I’ve been doing it since I was a filly, so I guess I’ve got a bit of an advantage,” she chuckled.

“It doesn’t look that hard,” Rara said, walking over to another, smaller tree with several apples hanging from its branches. “I bet I could do it.”

“Uh, Rara, sweetie,” Applejack said, concern flashing across her face. “Maybe you should…”

“Relax, AJ, I’m not that out of shape,” Rara said, turning her back to the tree and positioning herself closer. “I’ll just try it with one leg first.” Sticking her tongue out between her teeth in concentration, she lifted her hind right leg back and snapped it out at the base of the tree.

But instead of a thump, there was a sharp crack. Rara instantly froze, her eyes widening and her pupils shrinking.

“Rara!” Applejack shouted, rushing to her side. “You okay?”

Rara’s eye twitched a couple times and she let out a soft noise somewhere between a squeak and a whimper. “Ow…”

“Here, lean on me,” Applejack said, allowing Rara to put her weight on her. Caramel quickly hustled over to her other side so she could limp away.

“Big Mac!” Applejack yelled. “Get that cart back here! Rara’s hurt! We’re taking her down to the house!”

Big Mac hustled back up to them and swung the cart around. Applejack climbed up into the back and carefully hoisted Rara into the back amongst the apple baskets. Rara laid down, wincing with every movement that sent jolts of pain up her leg. Big Mac started to carry her back down the hill, moving carefully to try to avoid jolting the cart.

“Let me see it,” Applejack said, crouching down next to Rara. She very gently took Rara’s hoof in both of hers. “Does that hurt?”

“OWWW!” Rara howled.

Applejack immediately released Rara. “Okay, I’ll take that as a yes,” she said. “Looks like it’s just a sprain, you should be fine.”

Big Mac carried them back to the farmhouse and paused near the front door. Applejack climbed down from the cart, then carefully lifted Rara off the back, one leg at a time, and helped her limp into the house. Nosing open the front door, she helped Rara into the living room and had her lie down on the couch.

“Now what’s all this here?” Granny Smith asked, walking into the living room.

“Rara sprained her ankle trying applebucking,” Applejack explained with a bit of a scold in her voice, tucking a pillow underneath Rara’s injured leg.

Rara scoffed. “For heaven’s sake, AJ, I’m not a fragile little flower. Don’t talk about me that way.”

“I wasn’t saying that,” AJ said. “But applebucking isn’t something you can learn overnight. Thinking you could just buck a tree right off the bat the way you are—”

“Excuse me?” Rara cut in, giving Applejack a glare as cold as the ice pack that Granny Smith had just retrieved from the freezer. Granny Smith paused, looking between the two mares.

“AJ, what do you see when you look at me?” Rara asked. “Do you still see the pony who staggered in after you when you first brought me here almost two years ago? The mare who was throwing up and shaking all night while she went through withdrawal and who got migraines if she so much as looked out the window during the day?”

“No, Rara—” Applejack started to say.

“Because I am not that mare anymore!” Rara snapped. “I kicked the red poppydust, I kicked alcohol. I am not weak! And I’m not just some fragile little thing that you have to baby around all the time!”

“That’s not what I meant,” Applejack protested, meeting Rara’s glare with one of her own. “What I meant was you ain’t got enough practice to be bucking out there, and trying to buck a fully grown tree with no experience or practice is a just plumb crazy thing to do!”

“Well, I at least tried!” Rara shouted back. “Why don’t you get back to work? You’re always saying the farm ain’t gonna run itself.”

Applejack huffed and stormed out of the house, slamming the door shut behind her. Rara folded her forelegs across her chest and turned away with a humph.

“You shouldn’t be so harsh on Applejack,” Granny Smith chided gently as she laid the ice pack on Rara’s ankle, drawing a brief hiss of pain. “She’s just trying to look out for you.”

Rara sighed, some of her anger evaporating at the touch of the comforting cold. “I know, but...I just hate that she sometimes treats me like I’m so fragile or something.”

“Nopony here thinks you’re fragile or broken, dearie,” Granny said. “But you also gotta know your limits. I’m not stopping you from helping you on the farm, and neither is Applejack, but there are some things that you’re not suited to doing yet. And unfortunately, applebucking is one of them.”

Rara sighed and looked down at her injured leg. “Maybe I was a bit harsh on her…”

“You were,” Granny nodded. “Don’t mean she was right, either. Y’all can talk about it when she gets back inside. For now, you need to rest.” She tottered back into the kitchen. “Once I’m done cleaning up the kitchen, I can bring you something if you like.”

“Just some water would be nice, thank you, Granny,” Rara said, closing her eyes.

Granny Smith disappeared into the kitchen. Rara heard some clattering in the kitchen, then Granny’s voice: “Ah, there’s that bottle of cider. I was wondering where it went...hmm, still good.”

Rara’s eyes opened and her tongue slithered out of her mouth on its own, licking her suddenly dry lips. A familiar thirst scratched at her throat; the demon whispered in her ear again, Feed me, feed me, feed me...you’ll feel better…

“No, Rara,” she said out loud, closing her eyes again. “You don’t need it.”

She tried to force herself to calm down, to relax, to find the stillness at her core from which was born her music. But no matter what she did, the demon still scratched away at her throat.
> Rehearsals and Regret
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunday was one of Rara’s favorite days. The Apples and the hired hooves took a break from working on the farm, the entire family slept late and made a large breakfast, and she and Applejack would frequently take long walks through the orchard in the afternoon, making idle talk.

But Rara’s favorite part of Sundays was church at eleven o’clock. For an hour, she could wash away the rest of the world and just enjoy being in the warm and welcoming sanctuary of the church, surrounded by good ponies on all sides.

And best of all, the choir. The Temple’s five-pony choir, who unofficially called themselves the Ponytones, consisted of Rarity, Fluttershy, Toe Tapper, Big Macintosh, and Burn Torch, all of them adorned in long blue robes with white and gold collars. Right now, they were standing on the raised dais at the front of the sanctuary, singing an energetic rendition of This is Our Mother’s World that had almost the entire congregation on their hooves, clapping their hooves and singing along.

Rara leaned back in her pew, cursing her still-injured ankle for preventing her from standing up with the others, and looked around. Applejack was standing up to her right, clapping her front hooves and throwing her distinct voice into the refrain. Apple Bloom was to her left, standing up on the pew, with Granny Smith behind.

Rarity’s little sister Sweetie Belle was sitting in the row behind, with her parents, Magnum and Pearl. Next to her was Sweetie and Apple Bloom’s friend and fellow “Cutie Mark Crusader,” Scootaloo, with her two aunts Holiday and Lofty.

Up on the dais, Pastor Joyful Sound was lifting her own voice in song, tapping her red and white cane to the beat. Next to her, her son, Flash Sentry, was sitting in a chair, accompanying the chorus on an acoustic guitar. The church’s organist, Danielle, was sitting at the massive pipe organ, lightly flicking her long tail in time to the music.

The Ponytones finished up the song and Flash played a final flourish on his guitar. The congregation burst into applause. The Ponytones all took a bow and returned to their own seats.

Walking to the center of the dais, Pastor Sound raised her hoof for silence. “When the Holy Mother gifted the ponies magic, She held them to remember the same virtues that had given birth to Her.” She nodded upwards, her blind blue eyes pointed towards a flag that hung from the ceiling. The flag was light blue, and decorated with the major symbol of Navahism: a chalice holding a light purple heart-shaped flame, the Fire of Friendship, surrounded by six jewels: purple, red, orange, white, pink, and yellow.

“Friendship, loyalty, honesty, generosity, hope, and kindness,” Pastor Sound said. “These virtues allowed us to survive the ancient times, when we ponies suffered under the cruel hooves of Daybreaker, Nightmare Moon, Discord, Tirek, and the other Old Gods. These acts of goodness changed our universe forever, giving birth to the Holy Mother. She gave us our magic to teach us a lesson: our lives are our responsibility. We have the power to change our circumstances, for better or worse, and to influence others. But with these shining jewels to guide us, and the support of loved ones, we will always find the right path in the end.” She smiled around at her flock, compassion shining in the dull eyes. “Go in peace, my friends.”

Danielle turned to the organ and started playing a classical tune to guide the parishioners out, the blonde jetty expertly guiding her hooves across the keys. The congregation stood and began to make their way down the aisle.

Rara waited until most of the congregation had already filtered past before standing up, grunting as she placed her weight on the injured leg. She leaned against the pew for support.

Noticing her distress, Applejack grabbed Rara’s foreleg and took her weight. “Thanks, AJ,” Rara nodded.

“Sure thing, sugarcube,” Applejack nodded.

Big Mac and Rarity approached. “Rara, darling!” Rarity cried upon seeing them. “What happened to your leg?”

“Sprained my ankle,” Rara said. “It’s fine, it’s healing nicely.”

“Applejack, you’ll work the poor mare to death!” Rarity chastised Applejack.

Rara shot Rarity a glare on reflex, but Rarity didn’t appear to notice.

“Nah, we’ve learned our lessons from this,” Applejack replied. “Big Mac, you good to bring Apple Bloom and Granny Smith back to the farm with the truck after you get changed?”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac nodded.

“I know these robes are traditional,” Rarity commented, pulling at the long blue robes that she and the other choir members wore. “But they’re just so plain! And quite impractical; I’ve nearly tripped and fallen down the stairs every week wearing these!”

“Well, maybe you should design some new costumes,” Applejack suggested, half-sarcastically.

Rarity’s face lit up in delight. “That is a splendid idea!” She quickly rushed back through a doorway in the back of the sanctuary that led up to a staircase, stumbling on the first step before picking herself up.

Applejack sighed and shook her head. “Sometimes, that mare…”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac chuckled, following after her at his own languid pace.

“AJ, I need to speak to Pastor Sound,” Rara said, looking up towards the dais where Pastor Sound was speaking to Flash and Toe Tapper.

Applejack gave Rara a sideways glance, but nodded. She helped Rara hobble her way up to the dais.

“Pastor,” Rara called, prompting Joyful to turn towards her. “Do you have time for some advice?”

“I always do,” Joyful smiled. “Come with me.”

“Careful, mom,” Flash called after her. “I just waxed the staircase last night.”

“Thank you, dear,” Joyful said, her cane leading the way.

Rara and Applejack fell into step behind Joyful as she walked through the doorway behind the dais. Joyful carefully took the bannister and guided herself up one step at a time. Rara grasped the bannister as well and carefully climbed up, leaning on Applejack for support, as every time she placed even the smallest amount of weight on her injured ankle, the entire leg would scream in pain.

When they finally reached the top of the stairs, Rara was breathing hard from fatigue and pain. “You okay?” AJ asked.

“I’m fine,” Rara nodded, following Pastor Sound down the hallway. One the door to their right, she could hear the voices of the Ponytones as they changed out of their robes and discussed upcoming rehearsals. Joyful stepped through the door to the left, entering her personal office.

Rara paused at the door and gently shrugged Applejack’s hoof off of her foreleg. “I’ll just be a few minutes,” she said.

“Rara—” Applejack started to protest, but stopped herself. She nodded and stepped back slightly to allow Rara entry.

Rara paused at the door, taking a breath and closing her eyes. She touched her right hoof to both shoulders, then her mouth, forehead, and heart. “Earth and Sky, body, mind, and heart as one,” she recited, clearing her mind of the dust of the world and inviting in the spirit of the Holy Mother to guide her. She opened her eyes and pushed open the door.

The sitting room of Pastor Sound’s office was minimally decorated, but the entire room carried an aura of welcoming and calm. There were two large sitting cushions on the floor on either side of a low table, upon which sat an antique Japonese tea set and an incense burner that smelled of jasmine. A smaller flag with the Navahist symbol was hung up on the wall in front of Rara; to her right was a set of windows that looked out onto the streets below, while a door to the right led into the office proper. The walls were painted a gentle pinkish-blue that was pleasing and soothing to the eyes.

Pastor Sound took five steps forward along the right wall, then turned left and walked forward, her cane guiding the way, until she reached the cushion. She carefully walked around in front of it and sat down, facing Rara.

“What is on your mind, Rara?” she asked gently.

Rara sat down in her cushion and leaned back slightly to a more comfortable position, calmly fixing her gaze on Joyful Sound’s face. It had taken her some weeks, but she’d eventually gotten used to the way that Sound tended to fix her eyes vaguely in her direction, seeming to focus on something behind her or next to her.

“I’ve been a lot better these last few weeks than I was when I first came to Ponyville,” Rara stated. “I haven’t been having the dreams as often, and I haven’t had a drop of alcohol in four months.”

“That’s excellent to hear,” Joyful smiled. “But, you didn’t come in here just to give me good news.”

Rara was silent for a few seconds, casting her gaze down at the floor beneath her hooves, then continued, “But I still feel tempted.”

Joyful nodded sagely. “We all have our demons to deal with.”

“Pastor, I thought this would get easier,” Rara protested. “But every time somepony mentions alcohol, or I see somepony drinking it, I get this itch my throat again, and I start thinking about how good it would taste…” She groaned in frustration.

“It will get easier, Rara,” Pastor Sound said soothingly. “But life is not without its challenges. This world is not a perfect one, and we are not meant to be perfect ponies.”

“Life would be a lot simpler if we were,” Coloratura grumbled.

“Don’t lose hope, Rara,” Joyful said kindly. “Being tempted is not a sign that you are weak.”

Coloratura sighed and wiped her face. “Then why do I feel so tired from it?”

“It’s a battle, Rara,” Joyful said. “But you are not alone in this fight.”

Coloratura glanced at her watch, then got up off the cushion with a sigh. “Thank you for your time, Pastor, but I need to get going. It’s rehearsals at the Apple Pie today.”

“Don’t dwell too much on your struggles and downfalls, Rara,” Joyful advised her as she headed for the door. “Remind yourself of all the good in your life. It will get easier.”

Coloratura sighed and licked her lips, swallowing to try to soothe her suddenly dry throat. “Thank you, Pastor,” she said and exited.

Applejack was waiting for her on the other side. Once again, she took Coloratura’s foreleg. Coloratura managed to smile like Rara, but all she could think about at that moment was the itch in her throat and the throbbing pain in her hind leg.

They descended the stairs one step at a time and stepped outside. Big Mac was already gone, having driven Apple Bloom and Granny Smith back home. They walked down together to a trolley stop at the curb and sat down to wait.

“You doing okay, Rara?” Applejack asked.

Coloratura nodded and sighed. “Well, hopefully rehearsal will take my mind off things.”

“Hopefully,” Applejack agreed.

With a dinging and a clattering, the trolley pulled up to the curb and stopped. The two mares waited for the passengers to disembark, then climbed on, finding seats near the back. The trolley trundled onwards, heading west towards the Apple Pie in Your Eye.





The lunch hour at the Apple Pie in Your Eye had just started when Coloratura and Applejack arrived. Pinkie Pie was rushing back and forth between tables in a blur of pink, taking and handing out orders.

“Hi, Rara! Hi, Applejack!” Pinkie chirped as they entered; she was standing on her hind legs, balancing several dishes on her forelegs, shoulder, head, and tail.

“Hey, Pinkie,” Applejack said, observing the multiple dishes with amusement. “Need a hoof there?”

“I could use an extra one!” Pinkie chirped. “Steamed, Flambe and I are all working down to the bone!”

“Well, time for me to get to work,” Applejack grinned. She looped a foreleg around Coloratura and kissed her; Rara returned the kiss, allowing herself to briefly fall into the warm, apple-scented embrace, but all too soon, Applejack broke the kiss and hurried off behind the bar to aid with the lunch rush. Pinkie disappeared through the swinging doors into the kitchen: Coloratura caught a brief glimpse of Steamed Carrot and a tall, thin donkey with reddish-brown hair and a beard working in the kitchen, Steamed checking on a grill of flapjacks while Flambe slid a pan of dirty dishes into the conveyor dishwasher.

Shaking her head, Coloratura limped towards the stage and found two ponies waiting in front of the stage: Caramel, carrying a guitar over his back, and his marefriend Sassaflash, holding a violin case beneath her wing.

“Thank you for coming on time,” Rara smiled.

“We know you appreciate it,” Caramel said, shaking Rara’s hoof. “It’s always a real honor to get to perform with you on the stage.” Sassaflash smiled, but said nothing.

“All right, follow me,” Rara said. She led them through a door next to the stage labeled “Employees Only,” then down a hallway and through another door. On the other side of the door was a large room with a few instruments leaning against the walls or hung up on racks, including a spare piano.

“Okay, let’s get started. We’ll just do a bit of a warm-up first,” Rara said, walking over to the piano bench and laboriously sitting atop it, brushing her tail behind her and concealing her winces every time her injured leg flared with pain. Clearing her throat, she turned to see Caramel and Sassaflash both taking their seats and extracting their instruments; Caramel’s guitar had new strings that seemed to shimmer slightly in the lighting and the wood was newly polished to a shine. Sassaflash’s violin was a pristine instrument as always, a gorgeous reddish-brown color, but Rara noticed that it was in need of a polish.

Declining to comment, she turned back to the piano and cleared her throat. She struck the middle C and found that the instrument was in tune.

“Middle C, please,” Rara instructed the other two. Caramel complied with a pluck of the strings, summoning a perfect note. Sassaflash, however, was looking away, her bow and her violin hanging at her sides.

“Sassaflash?” Rara asked.

“Hon?” Caramel asked, touching the mare’s shoulder. Sassaflash jumped slightly and turned around.

“Right, right, sorry,” Sassaflash nodded, tucking her violin under her chin. She stroked the strings with her bow, drawing out a middle C.

“Okay, good,” Rara nodded. “Um, I understand that you don’t have a lot of time, so we’ll just start with Marry Me.”

She cleared her throat and began the intro to the song. Caramel followed up with the guitar, carrying the melody, and Rara continued the song.

“She wants to get married
She wants it perfect
She wants her granddaddy
Preaching the service…” 

The creaking of a door distracted Rara and she paused, looking up. Steamed Carrot was standing in the doorway of the storeroom, her eyes widening as she realized that she was caught.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologized, stepping back a pace. “I just...I heard you singing and wanted to listen. I love this song.”

Shoving aside her momentary annoyance at being interrupted, Rara smiled at Steamed. “Oh, it’s no problem!” she said. “You can come in and listen if you want.”

Steamed glanced back down the hallway. “Oh, I’m sorry, but I need to get back to work.”

“Oh, all right,” Rara nodded. Steamed closed the door and exited. Turning back to the piano, she cleared her throat and licked her lips, pushing away the itching her throat. “Shall we get back to practice?” she asked her companions.

“Yeah,” Caramel nodded. “Pick up where we left off?”

“Sure,” Coloratura said, shaking her head and refocusing. She placed her hooves back on the piano and continued the song.

“She wants magnolias
Out in the country
Not too many ponies
Save her daddy some money.
Whoa, she’s got it all planned out…
Yeah, I can see it—” 

She stopped suddenly, realizing that something was wrong. She turned around to see that Sassaflash had stopped playing her violin and was staring off into the distance, eyes unfocused.

Coloratura cleared her throat sharply, but the pegasus didn’t react.

“Babe,” Caramel said, shaking Sassaflash’s shoulder. Sassaflash jumped again, pulled back into reality. “What’s going on? You’re kinda out of it today,” Caramel commented.

“Sorry, I...I’m having a little bit of a hard time focusing,” Sassaflash muttered, shaking her head.

“Sassaflash, you’re going to be performing on stage in a little less than a week,” Coloratura said sternly. “You need to take this seriously.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry,” Sassaflash nodded. She settled back into position and shifted in the seat.

Coloratura took a deep breath, ignoring the growing itch in her throat, and resettled her position at the piano. “All right, let’s start back in the bridge to the chorus. One, two, one-two-three…

“Whoa, she’s got it all planned out....
Yeah, I can see it—” 

She stopped again and turned around. Sassaflash was stroking the violin’s strings, her eyes far away, paying no attention to what she was doing: the result was that she was creating a cacophony of discordant notes.

“Sassaflash!” Coloratura snapped. The pegasus jumped so much that she fell out of her chair.

“Babe, what’s with you today?” Caramel asked, leaning down and helping her up. “You’re not like this normally.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just—” Sassaflash started to apologize.

“Sorry is not cutting it,” Coloratura said, rubbing her suddenly pounding head. “If you’re not going to take this seriously, then there’s no point in rehearsing.”

Sassaflash’s eyes flashed danger. “And maybe there’s no point in me performing onstage at all!” She stood up, flung her violin to the ground, and stomped out.

“Sass!” Caramel called after her, but she was already out of earshot. She sighed and turned to Coloratura, looking like a lost colt. “I...I’m really sorry, she’s...she hasn’t lost her temper in ages…”

Rara, however, was distracted by the violin on the floor. She slowly stooped and picked up the little instrument, examining it carefully for any sign of damage. A quiet gasp of shock escaped her when she spotted a sizable scuff on the body. “Oh, no,” she whispered.

“Oh, it’s okay! It’s okay!” Caramel cried, taking the fragile wood into his hooves. “I can take that back to my workshop and get that fixed, no problem! And I’ll talk to Sassaflash, get her to calm down. She’ll be okay, and we’ll be here next week! Right?”

Coloratura didn’t respond except to sink down onto the piano bench, placing her head in her hooves. “Er...right. Right. Okay. See you next week. We’ll keep practicing,” Caramel muttered indistinctly. He packed up his guitar and Sassaflash’s violin and walked out the door, leaving Coloratura by herself.

Coloratura remained on the piano bench for a minute of silence, holding her heavy, pounding head in her hooves. “Stupid,” she whispered. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

The burning in her throat was growing into a wildfire, demanding to be quenched. Just one drink, the voice whispered. Forget about all of this for a moment. You’ll feel better. 

“No,” she whispered back, shaking her head.

Instantly, the fire in her throat flared even hotter, so hot and dry and harsh that she nearly choked. Just one, the voice demanded again.

Rara swallowed, but it did nothing to soothe her thirst. With a grunt and a wince, she got up off the bench and exited the storage room. She paused at the hallway, then turned right and opened up the next door, reaching up and pulling a cord. A bare bulb flicked on over her head, revealing what she had been seeking: wooden barrels stacked up on racks, stretching all the way back to the other wall of the storeroom. She walked down to one barrel near the end of the room with a spout attached to it and examined the label stamped on the top:

“Sweet Apple Acres Cider: 10% ABV.”

With a sigh, Coloratura reached plucked a stein that was hanging up from a nail on a nearby post and held it under the spout. Turning the faucet, she watched as golden liquid spilled into the stein, filling it up to the brim. She held the stein up in front of her; the sweet smell of apples was like a blast of cool air across the fires in her throat.

“Just one,” she promised herself, and drank deeply.
> The Performance
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Applejack frowned and studied the crowd once more. Saturday nights at the Apple Pie were always packed affairs, but the promise of a new musical selection played by an up and coming local pair had lured more ponies to the tavern than normal: hardly a seat in the entire house was empty.

She turned to the wood-burning oven behind the bar where she heated up meals and extracted a covered plate. She opened up the cover to reveal a steaming noodle, cheese, and carrot casserole, which she slid down the bar to Pinkie’s waiting hooves.

“You seen Rara, Pinkie?” Applejack asked, scanning the room once more for the ivory-coated mare.

“Nope!” Pinkie chirped. “Maybe she’s planning on being fashionably late.” She paused a beat. “Why do they call it that, fashionably late?” she pondered. “Is it because you’re supposed to show up in a fashionable dress? Maybe that’s why she’s late, she’s having trouble finding a fashionable enough dress. Oh! Maybe Rarity knows!” And before Applejack could comment, Pinkie Pie disappeared in a blur of pink.

Sighing, Applejack shook her head and scanned the crowd once more. No, Rara still wasn’t here. But Caramel and Sassaflash were. The couple was sitting by themselves at a table close to the stage; Sassaflash was holding her violin case on the table, looking down at it with a forlorn expression. Caramel was holding her hoof, his head swiveling as he searched for Coloratura.

The swinging doors to the kitchen cracked open behind Applejack and she turned to see Steamed Carrot peeking out. “It’s almost time for the show to start,” she said plaintively. “Is she not here yet?”

“Not yet,” AJ shook her head. “I’m starting to get worried.”

Steamed frowned. “I could’ve sworn I saw her coming in earlier today,” she mused. Her eyes focused on Caramel and Sassaflash and she shook her head. “I feel really bad for those two,” she sighed. “I’ve been listening to them rehearse these past few days, after Sassaflash calmed down. They’re wonderful! Honestly, I could see those two selling albums.”

“You really think so?” Applejack asked.

“Applejack, I’ve been listening to music my whole life,” Steamed said. “Everything from opera and classical to bluegrass and boogie-woogie. I know a good set of musicians when I hear them, and those two, even without Rara to back them up, are strong enough to stand on their own.”

Applejack looked over at the young couple, noticing Caramel shifting in his seat and Sassaflash licking her lips. “Why don’t you go and tell them that?”

Carrot’s eyes widened slightly and she examined the sea of ponies between her and the musicians. “Um...well…”

“Steamed, I’ll be watching you the whole time,” Applejack reassured her. “Nopony’s gonna hurt you here. ‘Sides, sugarcube, you can’t spend your whole life being scared.”

Steamed looked back at Applejack, then took a breath and nodded. She stepped out from behind the bar, moving like a field mouse through an open pasture, glancing upwards for the hawks. She moved slowly, constantly glancing around, but nopony paid her any real mind. She made it safely to the table where Caramel and Sassaflash sat. Applejack watched as Steamed bent over to speak to them, her tail trembling slightly as she spoke. Caramel smiled and gestured to a seat. Steamed hesitated for a moment, then slowly lowered herself into a chair and began to speak in a more earnest tone.

Applejack pulled her eyes from the scene for a moment and cast them towards the stage, still empty save for the piano. “Rara, where are you?” she whispered.

She looked back towards Steamed, Sassaflash, and Caramel. Steamed was pointing at herself, her expression surprised. Caramel was nodding eagerly, looking back and forth between her and Sassaflash. Sassaflash looked at Caramel, then nodded as well.

“Me?” Applejack heard Carrot saying. “You want me to sing?”

“I heard you singing once in the kitchen when we arrived for rehearsal,” Caramel said. “You’re wonderful!”

“But…” Steamed protested feebly.

“Coloratura’s late,” Sassaflash said. “If we don’t get a singer, we’re gonna have to cancel.”

Steamed looked up at the stage for several moments of silence. Then, to Applejack’s great astonishment, all three of them got up and started climbing up onto the stage. As Sassaflash and Caramel set themselves up, Steamed Carrot looked out at the crowd in front of them, her eyes wide and her trembling even more pronounced. She locked eyes with Applejack, and Applejack gave her a wide, encouraging smile.

Pinkie Pie, seeing what was going on, quickly walked up to the stage and looked up at Steamed. “Hey, do you remember what Rara told you on the first day?” she asked.

“Um…” Steamed stammered.

“Close your eyes,” Pinkie Pie instructed. Steamed took a breath and nodded, closing her eyes.

“Forgot about everypony else,” Pinkie Pie continued. “Tune out the other voices. Imagine you’re someplace else, someplace that makes you happy.”

Steamed sniffed the air and a faint smile crossed her face. Applejack knew that she was picturing herself in the kitchen, surrounded by all her favorite scents.

“Now,” Pinkie Pie whispered encouragingly. “Just sing.”

Steamed Carrot took in a breath and her voice flew out over the audience, turning every head towards her.

“She wants to get married
She wants it perfect
She wants her—” 

“Uh, Steamed Carrot?” Caramel interrupted. “We’re not ready yet.”

“Oh…” Steamed stammered, blushing furiously. “Right.” She looked out at the crowd. “Sorry, folks. Just, uh...warming up.”

A light laughter flowed up from the audience, quickly combined with applause. Carrot’s blush deepened, but she smiled and gave a short curtsy. Applejack and Pinkie Pie both exchanged nods.

Caramel and Sassaflash both got their instruments ready and pulled up stools. “Ready, babe?” Caramel asked. Sassaflash brushed a loose strand of her mane out of her eyes and nodded, tucking the violin beneath her chin.

“Wait, who’s going to play piano?” Steamed asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Caramel waved it off. “We can do this set without it. Ready?”

Steamed looked back out at the crowd and made eye contact with Applejack. Applejack winked at her encouragingly. Steamed swallowed and nodded, closing her eyes.

Caramel played the first few notes of the song and Steamed took in a breath.

“She wants to get married, 
She wants it perfect, 
She wants her grandaddy
Preaching the service…” 

She continued, eyes still closed, her voice becoming louder and more confident as she sang. Sassaflash began to join in with her violin, adding the strains of her instrument with Caramel’s guitar and Carrot’s voice. The crowd quieted, every head turning towards the stage; Applejack could see every tension and stress evaporating from their bodies as they listened to the song.

Frowning, she looked around the room again. Once more, Rara was nowhere to be seen. “Where the heck are you?” she muttered.

“Ma’am,” Flambe called from the kitchen. “We’re outta cider.”

“Right, I’ll go get some,” Applejack said, pushing through the saloon doors to the kitchen. She walked through the kitchen and into the back hallways. She walked down to the room where the cider was stored and paused. The door was open and the light was on. She stepped inside and stared, her jaw dropping.

Coloratura was lying on the floor next to an open cask of cider, the tasting mug next to her. “Rara!” Applejack cried, rushing to the mare’s side.

“Huh?” Coloratura said, opening her eyes. Applejack could see her irides jittering about inside her skull. Coloratura shook her head and slowly sat up. “I’m...I’m ready for the concert…”

“Rara,” Applejack said coolly. “The concert already started.”

“What?” Coloratura asked, blinking heavily. “So who’s…?”

“Rara,” Applejack interrupted, glaring. She picked up the tasting mug and held it up. “Explain yourself.”

Coloratura stared at the mug for several seconds, her brain clearly struggling to come up with a response. “I was just...taking a drink,” she protested. “To help me relax…”

“Rara, we agreed!” Applejack said, throwing the stein down. “No alcohol at all! You stayed one hundred percent sober!”

“What was one drink gonna do?” Coloratura snapped.

“One drink?!” Applejack yelled. “Look at that cask! It’s almost empty!”

Coloratura turned and looked down at the cask. “Huh. Would you look at that…”

“Coloratura,” Applejack said. “How long have you been drinking?”

“Um…” Coloratura said, looking down. “I…”

“How long?” Applejack repeated.

“...a week,” Coloratura admitted.

“A week?!” Applejack yelled.

“And so what?” Coloratura snapped back, looking up for the first time. She took a step forward, stumbling slightly. “So what if I drink? So what if I piss ponies off? So what does it all matter?”

“I trusted you!” Applejack shouted.

“And you treat me like I’m a kid!” Coloratura shouted. “B-babying me around, keeping me from t-trying to help, stopping me from d-doing what I want...I’m an adult!”

“An adult who sneaks around behind my back!” Applejack shouted back. “How do you expect me to trust you in my home when you—”

Applejack was interrupted by Coloratura slapping her across the face. She staggered, her jaw dropping open in shock.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t trust me!” Coloratura shouted, turning and storming out of the room. She slammed the door closed behind her, leaving Applejack standing alone among the cider.

“Rara?” Applejack whispered, rubbing the place where she’d slapped her.
> Unfond Memories
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"AJ? Where's Rara?" Apple Bloom asked. 

Rocking back on the chair on the back porch, Applejack stared up at the night skies, as if trying to divine some answers from the distant, twinkling constellations. "I...I dunno, sugarcube," she mumbled. 

"Did she leave?" Apple Bloom pouted. "She didn't say goodbye!" 

"She didn't leave," Applejack replied, turning away so that her sister couldn't see that she was talking through her teeth. "She's just...got some things she needs to sort out. She'll be back." 

"When?" Apple Bloom protested, trying to run around to face Applejack. "Why do you have a bruise on her face?" 

"When she's ready, and it was an accident," Applejack replied, tilting her head back to continue peering at the stars, reaching up a hoof to touch the bruise, tender with recalled pain. "Go to bed, sugarcube." 

Apple Bloom pouted, but retreated back into the house, the door creaking shut. Applejack rocked back and forth in her chair, still staring up at the night sky, her thoughts as far as the stars themselves. 

She glanced over at the other side of the porch. Big Mac was sitting there, frowning at her as he slowly rolled the straw in his mouth from one side to the other. 

"I'm an idjit, aren't I?" Applejack muttered. 

"Eeyup," Big Mac grunted. 

Applejack buried her face in her hooves and groaned. "I shouldn't have yelled at her," she said. "I was just...she was sneaking around behind my back and—" 

"That don't mean yelling at her was justified," Big Mac interrupted. "She ain't a child like Apple Bloom; you can't discipline her like her. She's an adult and should be treated like one." 

"Mac, you remember what she was like when she came here two years ago?" Applejack asked. "Pale and shaking, sick every night?" She sighed. "There's a part of me that still sees her like that. I...I wanna protect her. Make sure she's all right. So when I found she was drinking, and she got upset at me, I...guess I lost control of myself." She mopped her face. 

"It wasn't right," she admitted. "What I did to her then. What I did when she hurt her ankle. She ain't a child, and I was wrong to treat her like she is. I shoulda been more understanding." 

"Eeyup," Big Mac nodded. "So the real question is, what're we gonna do about it?" 

"I gotta find her and make it right," Applejack said, standing up. 

"Applejack, be reasonable," Big Mac replied. "There ain't no way you can search the whole city looking for her. Do you even have any idea where she might be?" 

Applejack froze and stared out into the dark, rolling acres of Sweet Apple Acres. "I..." She groaned and rubbed her tired eyes. "Horseapples." 

"Best you get some sleep, Applejack," Big Mac replied, standing. "Rara won't do anything too stupid. She'll come back tomorrow. And if she doesn't, we'll go find her." 

"All right, Big Mac," Applejack nodded. The two ponies walked back inside, the floorboards creaking beneath their hooves. 

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Applejack looked back at the front door. 

A heavy thumping drew Applejack's attention from the apples she was coring. Rising and stretching out the kinks in her legs, she walked over to the door and opened it. 

The mare on the other side was pale ivory, her white mane spilling off her head in tangles. Makeup ran in rivulets down her face, revealing wide red eyes, the turquoise irides shining dully through tears and darkness. A saddlebag hung loosely off her side. It was only when AJ's eyes fell on the cutie mark—a star with five colored music notes—that she recognized her. 

"Rara?!" she cried, rushing forward and pulling the shivering mare inside. "What happened to you?" 

"I quit," Rara whimpered, leaning against Applejack for support as she carried her inside, dropping the saddlebag on the floor next to the door. "Svengallop was setting me up for a photoshoot and another album record and tour and I couldn't take it anymore. I'm sick of having to put up an act all the damn time, sick of being mobbed by fans and not being able to control what I sing and who I have to be, and I'm sick of being doped up all the damn time. I needed to get away. I took a train from Manehattan, came here." 

Rara looked up at Applejack, her face making the farmpony think of an abandoned puppy. "Will you help me, AJ?" 

"Of course I will," Applejack promised, hugging the smaller mare tight to her chest. Her matted coat was cold, damp with sweat; her breath stank of vomit. "Rara, are you sick?" Applejack asked. 

"I'm withdrawing," Rara groaned. "I've been using poppydust for months. I...all I can think about is getting more..." 

"It's okay, Rara," Applejack whispered, rocking back and forth gently. "D'you think you can hold down some medicine?" 

"No," Rara moaned with a swallow. "I just wanna rest." 

"Okay, I'm gonna put you up in the guest bedroom," Applejack said, carefully helping Rara stand. 

One step at a time, she carried Rara up the steps, past the bedrooms where the rest of the family lay snoring, and opened up the door to the guest bedroom. A simple little room with a quaint dresser and a good-sized bed, the blue sheets neatly folded. 

"AJ?" Rara mumbled as she carried herself to the bed, tugging the sheets back. "Did you get my letters?" 

"I kept 'em, sugarcube," Applejack replied, pulling the sheets over Rara and tucking her in. "Every single one." 

Rara smiled as she closed her eyes, shivering and clutching the sheets. "I kept all of yours," she mumbled. "They're in my saddlebags." 

She moaned and clutched the sheets, fresh sweat running off her face onto the pillow. "AJ? Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?" she whimpered. 

"Course I will," Applejack replied, gently sitting down on the mattress and stroking Rara's mane with a cloth. She started humming an old family lullaby, something she remembered from her own mother. 

"That feels good," Rara sighed, nestling into the pillow. Eventually, Rara's breathing slowed and her groans were replaced by soft snoring. 

Applejack returned to her room, pulled the sheets and pillow off her own bed, and carried them back to the guest bedroom. She laid down on the rug and wrapped herself up in the sheets, resting her head on the pillow and closing her eyes for a light sleep.

Applejack laid down on her own mattress, the fabric beneath her feeling cold and hard beneath her skin. Hugging the pillow tight, she buried her face into the down to muffle her tears.
> Hangovers and Help
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Berry Punch hadn’t been lying: that bottle of Pinot Noir 1941 was a good one. She should know, she’d downed half the thing. 

“Rough day, huh?” Berry Punch asked, walking over to Coloratura and sitting down next to her. The two of them were sitting in a gazebo overlooking Berry’s vineyards. The harvest was long over with the coming of winter, and some of the leaves were already turning brown, shivering beneath the light of the stars and the half moon. The music of the leaves mixed with the chirping of crickets and the sound of night birds. 

“The roughest,” Coloratura said, her voice slow and heavy. She grabbed the bottle of wine and shakily raised it, tilting the neck towards the glass that sat on the bench next to her. 

“Hey, don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Berry asked. 

“Ah, piss off,” Coloratura swore. “You’re j-just like AJ.” 

“What’s that mean?” Berry asked, her eyebrows raising. “Plus, I had no idea you were capable of even saying things like that.” 

Coloratura poured the wine into the glass; despite slopping much of the scarlet liquid everywhere, she managed to fill the glass all the way to the brim. She then grasped the glass and downed the entire contents in one go. 

“She got on my c-case earlier,” Coloratura explained, placing the glass back down on the bench. The glass nearly fell off, but she somehow managed to right it in time. “Telling me that I shouldn’t be drinking at all...that I…” She paused, swirling the glass. “That I m-messed up everything...my entire l-life, heck, I even m-missed Steamed g-getting up on stage the first time…” 

Tears shimmered in her bright blue eyes, which struggled to focus on the glass. She reached out for it, but Berry Punch quickly reached out with her hoof and pulled the glass away. “You’ve had enough,” she said in a firmer tone. 

Coloratura glared at Berry. “Must be easy for you,” she grunted. “You...you’ve always been a jerk. Never had to g-give a horseapple ‘bout ‘nything…” 

“I’m going to ignore that, considering that you’re drunk,” Berry scowled. “But seriously, you’ve had enough.” 

“Gimme ‘nother,” Coloratura demanded, standing up in a slow, wobbly manner, like a puppet being operated by an incompetent master. 

“No,” Berry Punch said. 

“I want another!” Coloratura shouted, stumbling forward. She raised her hooves to try to shove Berry, but Berry smoothly stepped aside and smacked Coloratura on the back of the head. Coloratura stumbled and fell hard on her face, crashing into the floorboards with a loud crack and a grunt. Berry knelt down and listened, detecting a soft snoring from the unconscious mare. 

Shaking her head, Berry lifted Coloratura up onto her back and started to carry her back to the house. As she approached the back porch, Minuette came out to meet her. 

“What happened to Rara?” she asked, noticing the snoring mare across Berry’s shoulders. “Did she drink so much she fell asleep? I didn’t think she’d even be able to handle that much, she’s so small.” 

“Nah,” Berry shrugged. “I gave her my You’ve-Had-Too-Much Special.” 

“You hit her?” Minuette cried, glaring. 

“Technically, she knocked herself out when she fell,” Berry shrugged, climbing onto the porch and opening the door. 

“I can’t believe you sometimes!” Minuette glared, following her. 

“She needed to calm down,” Berry explained. “Mini, she’s not herself. She got in a fight with AJ.” 

“A fight?” Minuette repeated. “I didn’t think they fought at all, ever!” 

“She’s gonna be in real bad shape tomorrow when she wakes up, and not just because of the headache,” Berry said, walking down the hallway to the guest bedroom. “She’s gonna need a friend, and that’s what she’s gonna need you for.” 

“I should call Pastor Sound, too,” Minuette nodded. “She’s helped Rara in the past, plus she’s real nice. Times like this, a pony needs as many friends as she can get, ya know. Should I call AJ, too?” She paused. “No, bad idea. If they’ve fought, it might take some time to cool off.” 

Berry opened up the door to the guest bedroom, which was equipped with a single bed, a desk and chair, and a few paintings that Minuette had picked out: a sunny landscape, a cafe scene, and an abstract image with lots of squares and squiggly lines (she couldn’t settle on one). Minuette pulled the blankets back with her magic and Berry dumped the snoring Coloratura on the mattress. Coloratura groaned in her sleep and curled up into a ball as Minuette pulled the blankets over her. 

“Mama?” Berry Pinch asked, rubbing her eyes with a hoof as she walked into the room. “What’s Miss Rara doing here?” 

“She needs a place to stay for a while, sweetie,” Berry Punch explained. “She’s in a bit of a tough spot.” 

Berry Pinch frowned in thought for a moment, then walked back to her room. She came back carrying a small brown teddy bear in her magic. “Mister Hugs makes me feel better,” she said, sliding the bear next to Coloratura. The sleeping mare wrapped her hooves around the toy and hugged it close to her chest, mumbling incoherently before resuming her snoring. 

Berry Punch smiled and tussled her daughter’s mane. Turning out the light in the room and closing the door, she turned and led the other two to bed. 





The next morning dawned with Celestia’s sun coloring the low clouds in shades of gold and orange. Minuette had bounded out of bed as soon as the clock struck 6:30 as always, and had breakfast prepared by the time Berry Punch and Berry Pinch shuffled into the dining room just after seven.  

“All the mares and stallions in the world, and I had to pick the early riser,” Berry Punch grumbled, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and yawning. “I swear, you run off of batteries, not sleep like a normal pony.” 

“Well, somepony has to make sure that this place runs on schedule,” Minuette said, sliding two steaming plates of Prench toast and scrambled eggs onto the table. “And think of it this way: I wake up a little early to make breakfast and tidy up, that gives you two more time to sleep and be ready for other things.” 

Berry Punch smiled and kissed her wife on the cheek. “That’s true, I guess.” She started to tuck in. 

“Is Miss Rara still asleep?” Berry Pinch asked through a mouthful of eggs. 

“Were you raised in a barn, missy?” her mother asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Berry Pinch swallowed. “Sorry, mom.” 

“I’ll go check on her,” Minuette said, scooping up another plate of breakfast. This she set on a tray, along with a tall glass of orange juice, a pitcher of ice water, and two each of extra-strength aspirin and antacid. Humming cheerfully, she lifted up the tray with her magic and walked down the hallway to the guest room. She opened the door wide with her magic and bounced inside. 

“Wakey-wakey, the show must go on!” she declared. 

The bundle of blankets on top of the mattress shifted slightly. “Leave me alone to die,” a voice moaned from within. 

“But then you’d start to stink up the whole house, silly!” Minuette chirped, pulling the covers away with her magic.

Coloratura was curled up into a ball, laying on her side; Mister Hugs lay a few inches from her. She flinched and raised a hoof to block out the light, then seized the blankets and yanked them back over her head. “Go away,” she moaned. 

“No can do!” Minuette said. “I gotta make sure you get some food in your belly and that you don’t need to go to the hospital.” She pulled back the blankets once more and paused. Coloratura didn’t resist; she just lay on her side, sniffling. Tears ran down her face. 

“AJ hates me,” she whimpered. 

“No, she doesn’t,” Minuette assured her, sitting on the bed next to her. “You made a mistake, that’s all.” 

“I lied to her, and I hit her,” Rara continued. “How is she going to forgive me for that?” 

“You were drunk, Rara,” Minuette said. “Lots of ponies do dumb things when they’re drunk.” She paused for a beat. “If it makes you feel better, I could show you some pics from that one time in college that Berry somehow found. But if you tell anypony about them, I’ll deny it.” 

Rara laughed feebly, but her chuckles were quickly silenced by a moan of pain. “I feel awful.”

“Here,” Minuette said, lighting up her horn. “Just hold still and relax.” 

“What are you—?” Rara started to ask, but her question was cut off by a quiet, relieved groan as Minuette’s magic began to gently massage her temples. Minuette continued the massage, rubbing the crown and back of Rara’s head, targeting specific pressure points to ease her pain. 

“That feels good,” Rara sighed, hugging Mister Hugs again. 

“It’s a little trick I picked up from a book,” Minuette said. “I use it on Berry when she gets a migraine.” 

“Thanks, Minuette,” Rara said, sitting up. “I feel a little better now.” 

“Great,” Minuette smiled. She floated over the glass of orange juice and medicine. “Take these, they’ll help.” 

Rara gratefully swallowed down the pills with a swig of orange juice, then began to pick at the eggs. 

“Miss Rara, you’re awake!” Berry Pinch chirped, bouncing into the room. “Did Mister Hugs help you sleep?” 

“He did, Berry,” Rara smiled feebly, giving the bear back to Berry. “Thank you very much.” 

“You can keep him for a while longer,” Berry said, giving the bear back to Rara. “I think he can still help you.” 

Rara hugged the bear. “Thank you, Berry.” 

“You’re welcome!” 

“Silly fillies like you had best be getting ready for school so they won’t be late!” Minuette teased, pressing her nose against Berry Pinch’s. Berry giggled and ran off to prepare for school. 

“I’ll check on you a little later,” Minuette said. “Try and get some more rest, and eat what you can. Bathroom’s just down the hall, second on your left.” 

“Thank you,” Rara nodded as Minuette exited, closing the door behind her. She drank down half the pitcher of water and managed to eat a slice of the toast and most of the eggs before her churning stomach overruled her appetite. After relieving herself in the bathroom, she slid back into bed and managed to doze off, despite her dully thudding headache. 

No more than twenty minutes after she’d finally closed her eyes, the door banged open. “How you feeling, Rara-Sis-Boom-Bah?” Berry declared, marching into the room. 

Rara groaned as her headache returned with a vengeance and glared at Berry. “I’d be a lot better if you—” She stopped herself, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before continuing in a forcibly restrained voice delivered through a plastic smile. “Berry, thank you for letting me stay the night. I—” 

“Don’t mention it,” Berry smiled, waving off the compliment. “And don’t worry about speaking your mind. I’m an unapologetic jerk, I know I am.” She sat down on the edge of the bed. “Listen, I know you’re probably feeling like manure right now, and you don’t need me rubbing it in. There are some things that a pony like me isn’t suited for, and picking up a mare when she’s down is one of them. So that’s why I called in a mutual friend.” 

“Right in here, mom,” a stallion’s voice said from outside, accompanied by the familiar tapping of a cane. Flash Sentry walked into the room, followed by his mother. 

“Perfect,” Berry said, getting up. “Hiya, Pastor. Officer Sentry.” 

“Berry,” Pastor Sound nodded. “Hello, Rara.” 

Rara swallowed and nodded. Her stomach, which had been churning and turning just a moment ago, now felt like it had fallen out of her belly. 

“I’ll leave you to it, gotta tend to the berries. Hope you feel better,” Berry Punch said, walking out of the room. Flash nodded to Rara and stepped out of the room as well, closing the door behind him. 

“How are you feeling?” Pastor Sound asked, following the wall with a hoof until she reached the bed. She gently felt out the mattress until she found an empty spot, then sat down upon it with a creak. 

“Awful,” Rara admitted, hugging the teddy bear again. 

Pastor Sound nodded. “From what I heard, you have had a very rough go of it.” 

Coloratura scowled. “So I suppose this is the part where you tell me that I deserved it?” she grumbled. 

“No,” Pastor Sound said gently. “I’m going to ask you what you want to do now.” 

Rara blinked, then stared down at the bear in her lap for several long seconds of silence. The teddy looked plaintively back up at her with its brown button eyes, head tilted to one side inquisitively. 

“You mean besides crawl into a hole and die of shame?” Coloratura asked. 

“As your friend, I really wouldn’t advise that,” Pastor Sound replied. “A lot of ponies would miss you.” 

“You sure about that?” Coloratura asked bitterly. 

Pastor Sound reached out and found Rara’s shoulder, her hoof slowly tracing down Rara’s arm to her hoof. She squeezed gently, her grip as warm as her smile despite the dimness of the unseeing eyes that somehow aimed themselves at Rara's own irides. “Rara, I have seen how Applejack and her family treat you,” she said. “I know that no matter how hard you feel like you have fallen, they will be there to pick you up.” 

“Are you sure? After everything I did?” Rara asked, pulling her knees up to her chest. 

“I am positive,” Pastor Sound said. “Few ponies have a capacity for love like Applejack, and love bears and forgives all, even unkind words.” When Rara did not respond, the pastor continued, “One of the hardest lessons we can learn in this life is that we are mortals, and we are fallible. And sometimes, when we fall, we fall hard. But love will be there to remind us that no matter how deeply we have fallen, there will be somepony to pick us up again. And you have many ponies waiting to help you up now. You just need to reach out and take their hooves.” 

Rara pondered this for a long moment, then slowly smiled and squeezed Pastor Sound’s hoof back. “I know what I have to do,” she declared. “I have to go back home and make this right.” 

“Good,” Pastor Sound nodded, a twinkle flashing through her unseeing blue eyes. “Flash and I will be glad to take you there.” 

Giving Mister Hugs a final squeeze, Rara swung her legs off the bed and landed upon the floor. As soon as her hooves touched the carpet, however, her hangover returned with a vengeance, causing the room to spin along with her stomach and her head to flare with pain, every light intensifying to a painful degree. She staggered with a cry of pain, clutching her head. Instantly, Pastor Sound was at her side, helping her up. 

“What happened?” Flash asked, pushing the door open. Observing the scene before him, he quickly moved around to Rara’s other side, lifting her up.

“Rara, perhaps you should rest more,” Pastor Sound suggested. “You—” 

“No,” Rara said firmly, shaking her head. She gritted her teeth and forced her eyes open, pushing through the pain until the light faded to a more manageable degree. Ordering her breakfast to remain in her stomach, she got her balance but allowed Pastor Sound and Flash to continue to help her up. “No,” she repeated. “I need to do this now.” 

Flash looked at his mother; she looked in his direction, a pensive frown crossing her features. “If you are sure, then we will help you,” she declared. 

The trio moved out of the bedroom and down the hallway, Flash leading the way, Pastor Sound’s cane dragging along next to her. They exited the house and walked down the dirt pathway to the arch in the gate. A blue motorcycle with a sidecar and rather crudely painted lightning bolts along the sides sat outside the gate. 

“Do you have her?” Pastor Sound asked Flash. 

“I got her,” Flash said, shifting to support more of Rara’s weight. “Bike’s to your eleven o’clock.” 

Her cane leading the way, Pastor Sound walked confidently towards the bike. When her cane tapped against the side, she carefully followed her way around it to the sidecar, then climbed inside with a grunt. She pulled a helmet out of the sidecar and began to strap it on. 

Rara and Flash walked over to the bike. Rara gave the hasty, obviously hoofpainted lightning bolts a querying examination. Sensing her gaze, Flash let out a quiet chuckle. “I thought it looked cool,” he admitted. 

Rara let out a small chuckle as well as Flash climbed onto the bike. She climbed on behind him, wrapping her forelegs around his chest. “Here,” Flash said, handing her his helmet. It was a bit too big and shaded her eyes, but she strapped it on as tightly as she could. 

Flash turned the ignition and the bike grumbled to life, vibrating beneath them. Checking once more to make sure that both of his passengers were secure, he pulled away from the orchard and started heading up the street towards Sweet Apple Acres.
> Coming Home
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bike grumbled its way up the dirt path to Sweet Apple Acres, passing beneath the wooden gate with the hanging sign that bore a carved apple. Flash steered the bike up to the front of the house and parked, shutting off the ignition. 

Rara climbed off the back of the bike, her mouth held determinedly closed in order to keep the contents of her squirming stomach where they belonged. She walked up to the door and knocked; it was Sunday afternoon, so that meant that the Apples had to be home. 

Sure enough, the door opened and Big Mac peered out at her. His eyes widened slightly as they fell upon her, then his face returned to its normal stoic expression. “Rara,” he nodded. 

“Hi, Big Mac,” Rara said, managing a weak smile. “Is AJ here?” 

“Nope,” Big Mac grunted. 

“She’s at the Apple Pie?” 

“Eeyup.” 

Rara hesitated, looking down at Mac’s hooves. “Is...is she still mad at me?” she asked. 

Silence answered Rara’s question: Mac never hesitated or balked in his responses. Puzzled, Rara looked up to see that Mac was fixing her with a confused expression. 

“She was never mad at you,” he replied. 

A warm feeling like liquid sunshine flowed through Rara’s body, strengthening her body, dismissing most of her pain. Her smile became more genuine and she nodded at Big Mac. “Thank you.” 

“We were worried,” Big Mac said quietly. 

A pang of guilt ran through Rara’s chest, and her smile faltered. “I’m sorry,” she said. 

“I know,” Big Mac nodded. “Go tell her that.” 

“Say hi to Granny Smith and Apple Bloom for me,” Rara called as she headed back to the bike. She climbed back on behind Flash. 

“Take me to the Apple Pie, please,” she said, strapping her helmet back on. 

“Right away,” Flash nodded. He kicked the bike back to life and performed a slow, tight turn, heading back up the pathway. Dirt flew in their wake as Flash rode back into town. 





The Apple Pie was bustling that afternoon, ponies heading into the tavern to enjoy the remnants of their weekend; even from outside, one could hear faint music and singing from inside, a guitar and violin backed up by a female voice. Flash parked the bike in the lot out front and Rara climbed off. 

“I don’t remember there being a concert scheduled for tonight,” she mused. 

“Maybe it was a last-minute thing,” Flash suggested, running around to the side of the bike to help his mother climb out of the sidecar. Pastor Sound extended her cane and tapped the ground in front of her. 

Rara walked up to the door of the Apple Pie and paused. The door suddenly seemed twenty feet tall, and the blue and yellow lights on the side were harsh and glaring, exacerbating her headache. “I...I don’t think I can do this,” she whimpered, backing up. 

“Rara,” Pastor Sound said gently, walking up and taking Rara’s foreleg. She smiled towards her. “What’s wrong?” 

“I…” Shame burned Rara’s throat, silencing her, and she looked down at the pavement at her hooves. She managed to swallow. 

“Rara, would it help if we went in together?” Flash suggested, taking Rara’s other foreleg. 

Rara looked up at him and at Pastor Sound, then at the door. On the other side was the mare that she still loved with all her heart, the mare that she had struck, lied to, and run away from. The mare that she had hurt so deeply, she was certain that it had left scars that would never heal. 

The mare that she was going to come to and beg for forgiveness that she did not deserve. 

She swallowed, then nodded. Flash reached out and pushed the door open, the bells over their heads jingling as they entered. 

As Rara had predicted, the tavern was nearly full, every table occupied. Most of the ponies were quiet, their focus on the stand. Rara turned and gasped. 

Standing on the stage was Caramel and Sassaflash, Caramel smiling broadly as he strummed his guitar, Sassaflash up on her hind legs, stamping her hoof to the beat as she vigorously stroked her violin. But between them was Steamed Carrot, her eyes shut, belting her voice out to Done. The beat of the music flowed through Rara, washing away every trace of her hangover; her hoof instinctively started tapping to the beat, a proud smile spreading across her face. Steamed was perfectly on the rhythm, hitting every note perfectly. 

“She sounds wonderful,” Joyful commented, tapping her cane to the rhythm. 

“She sounds perfect,” Rara said, locking her gaze on Steamed. “Way to go, girl.” 

"Rara!" a familiar voice squealed, and a moment later, the wind was knocked out of Rara's lungs as Pinkie Pie tackled her in a tight hug. 

"Ohmygosh, we missed you so much!" Pinkie Pie said, clutching Rara in an iron grip. "AJ told me you left and we were all wondering where you went and Steamed and I wanted to go look for you, but AJ said that you just needed some time by yourself and you’d be fine—” 

“Pinkie...can’t...breathe!” Rara gasped, her face turning bluer by the second. 

“Sorry!” Pinkie said, loosening her grip but still hugging her. “I’m just...I’m so glad that you’re back home!” 

“Me too,” Rara said, hugging Pinkie back. “I’m sorry I ran off, but—” 

“That’s okay now!” Pinkie grinned. “Later we can have a ‘Welcome Back’ party, just for us! I’m gonna go start planning it!” 

Rara got back to her hooves and looked up. From across the bar, her eyes met a familiar pair of green irides; AJ was behind the bar, her gaze on her, frozen in place like a deer in headlights. 

Rara froze as well: time seemed to stop around them, all noise fading into the background. Part of Rara wanted to turn and run away. But the rest of her knew that if she did that, she’d be running all of her life. She turned back towards Flash and Pastor Sound behind her. Flash smiled at her, and Pastor Sound gave an encouraging nod in her direction. 

She took a step forward. Then another step. And then more, all the way across the tavern to the swinging door that led behind the bar. Applejack’s eyes remained on her every step of the way until they were face to face. 

“Um…” Rara stammered. “Hi.” 

Applejack didn’t say anything. 

“AJ, I…” Tears stung at Rara’s eyes, and she was unable to fight them back. “I’m so sorry. I just...I was dishonest, and mean, and I know that I hurt you, and I don’t expect you to forgive me, and I…” 

But before her speech could fully dissolve into inelegant blubbering, Applejack flung her forelegs around Rara and hugged her close. Rara hugged Applejack back, burying her face into her long blonde hair that smelled of apples and freshly fallen leaves, her tears staining her coat. 

"I was so worried about you," Applejack spoke, her voice tremulous. 

A sting struck Rara in the chest and she let out another little sob. 

“There, there, sugarcube,” Applejack whispered, stroking her back. “Hush, now, it’s okay.” 

“N-no, it’s not,” Rara whimpered. “I…” 

“Shhh,” Applejack whispered, stroking her mane just like she used to back when Rara was still detoxing, when she’d lie awake at night shivering and moaning in pain. “Rara, you made a mistake. We all do.” Applejack paused for a beat, then pulled back to look Rara in the eyes. 

“I made a mistake, too,” she admitted, releasing her from her embrace and doffing her hat. “I treated you like a fragile little filly, but you ain't that. I got mad at you for things that weren’t worth getting my tail in a twist over, and I was just too harsh on you.” She twisted the stetson, looking down at the floor. “I guess I worried about you too much, and I made some pretty plumb stupid decisions ‘cause of that.” She blinked and looked up at Rara. “I’m real sorry.” 

Rara smiled. “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.” 

“Deal,” Applejack smiled. As one, the two mares hugged once more. As they embraced, the final song ended and a loud chorus of cheers and applause rose from the patrons. Looking over Applejack’s shoulder, Rara watched as Sassaflash, Caramel, and Steamed all stepped forward to take a bow, then climbed down off the stage. 

Rara eagerly waved them over. Steamed trotted over quickly, exhaling heavily. “Whew...that was intense,” she sighed through an exhausted smile. “Having all those ponies looking at you…” 

“I’m so proud of you!” Rara cried, flinging her forelegs around Steamed. “You were absolutely perfect up there!” 

Steamed Carrot tensed up for a moment, then hugged Rara back. "Thank you!"  

“When did you get the courage up? I thought you’d never get to sing on stage!” Rara cried, glowing with excitement and pride. 

“Well, these two needed a singer, and nopony else was stepping up, and it would’ve been terrible if they had to cancel, so…” Steamed shrugged modestly. 

Rara laughed. “That’s wonderful! Don’t worry about the stage fright, we can work on that. Trust me, it goes away after a while.” She then turned to Caramel and Sassaflash. Caramel was smiling brightly at her, but Sassaflash was examining her with a small frown. 

Rara’s face fell. “I...I owe you two an apology,” she said. “I was...very unfair to you during rehearsal, and I stood you up when you needed me. I...there’s no excuses for what I did. I am so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Caramel smiled at her. “I understand you were under a lot of stress back then; I forgive you.” 

Rara turned to Sassaflash, whose expression had softened slightly into a more neutral face. “You both did great up there,” she said. “And I’m glad that you got your violin fixed.”

“Thanks,” Sassaflash nodded. 

“Sassaflash, that day in rehearsal, it was pretty obvious you had something on your mind,” Rara continued. “Something that you were having a hard time thinking about. Something you were struggling with.” She paused for a beat. Sassaflash was suddenly having trouble looking Rara in the eyes. 

“You’re not alone,” Rara said. “We can help you.” 

“Babe?” Caramel asked, laying a hoof on his marefriend’s shoulder. 

“It’s nothing,” Sassaflash said quickly, turning her head away. 

“No, it’s not nothing,” Rara pressed. “And if you hold all that stress in, it’s going to get worse. Believe me, I know.” 

“Babe, talk to me,” Caramel said, squeezing her shoulder.

Sassaflash’s lip trembled for a moment, and she sniffled. “I’m pregnant,” she admitted. 

Caramel’s jaw dropped. “Really?” he squeaked. 

“I got the test back last Friday,” Sassaflash continued, turning towards Caramel. “Babe, what do I do? I don’t know if I’m ready for a kid.” 

Caramel thought for a moment, then took Sassaflash’s hoof in both of his, smiling at her. “I don’t think anypony’s ever really ready for a kid,” he said. “But I do know that whatever happens, I’m going to be right there beside you every step of the way.” He reached up and gently wiped a tear out of Sassaflash’s eyes. “And...I think it’s time for me to ask something I should’ve asked a long time ago.” 

As the astonished ponies watched, Caramel dropped to one knee, still holding Sassaflash’s hoof in both of his own, looking up at her with his kind brown eyes. “Sassaflash, will you marry me?” he asked. 

Sassaflash stared at him for several long beats, her mouth hanging open. Tears welled up in her eyes. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face. 

“Yes! Yes!” she cried, pulling Caramel up into a hug and kissing him full on the mouth. 

As soon as she did so, there was a sudden explosion of confetti from all around them, causing everypony to jump. “Attention, everypony!” Pinkie Pie declared, leaping up onto the bar as confetti rained down into her mane. “She said yes!” 

The tavern burst into cheers once more, everypony applauding the new couple. Sassaflash and Caramel both blushed furiously, but then Caramel shrugged and pulled his new fiancee into another kiss. 

“Engagement party!” Pinkie Pie shouted, pulling her party cannon out of nowhere and firing off a round of confetti and streamers that rained down from the ceiling. With a shout of joy, she dove into the festivities. 

Applejack chuckled and shook her head. “Sometimes, that mare…” 

“Well, it’s never a dull moment with her around,” Rara laughed. She suddenly glanced down and realized that at some point, Pinkie had slipped her a plate with a slice of her favorite dessert: fresh-baked apple pie. She only gaped for a moment before smiling; she’d long ago given up on trying to figure out how she did it. 

“Well, guess we’re gonna need to break out the extra cider caskets,” Applejack commented. 

Coloratura paused: the word “cider” echoed in her brain for a moment, and just for a moment, the sweet, sparkly taste tickled her tongue, the familiar fizz itching at her nostrils…

And then it was gone. No burning throat. No itching tongue. No whisper of temptation in her ears. They’d come back one day, Rara knew. But she knew that next time, she would not try to fight them on her own. An uphill battle was always easier with support. 

For today, she was free. Setting her apple pie down, she turned to Applejack. “Hey, AJ?” 

“Yeah, sugarcube?” AJ asked, turning to her. 

Rara cupped AJ’s cheeks in her hooves and pulled her in for a kiss. Applejack hugged her close without hesitation, meeting her kiss with equal passion. 

“I love you,” Rara whispered as they separated. 

“I love you, too,” Applejack replied, nuzzling her. 

“I’ll help get those caskets,” Rara offered. “And Steamed, you up for a duet after?” 

“Really?” Steamed Carrot asked, looking like her dreams were coming true all at once. 

“Really,” Rara winked. “Don’t worry about the stage fright. It’s nothing we can’t deal with together.” 

She looked over to see Pastor Sound and Flash both sitting at the bar. Pastor Sound smiled in her direction while Flash gave her a salute with his wing. Smiling, Rara leaned against Applejack’s side and received a brief nuzzle on the forehead as the two walked through the swinging doors of the kitchen as if stepping through a barrier into a new chapter of their lives.