A Muddy Hole

by PoweredByTea

Rating: everyone
Tags: Rarity, Slice of Life, Applejack, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 3690

When it comes to mud, Rarity is usually seen moving at a full gallop in the opposite direction. So just how did she get herself into that muddy pit during the Sisterhooves Social?

Rarity doesn't like dirt, she doesn't like dust. Grime and filth are a big no-no. And when it comes to mud, Rarity is usually seen moving at a full gallop in the opposite direction. So just how did she get herself into that muddy pit during the Sisterhooves Social?

Prereading credits go to GhostOfHeraclitus, Bradel, Toafan, and "Nettle".

Published 2013-07-28 18:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-07-28 18:50:01 UTC

Being helpful

Applejack, as all ponies in the tight-knit community of Ponyville knew, liked helping her friends. Yes indeedy, it was pretty much what she was about. Why, hadn’t there been that one time when the Mayor had organised a big ol’ fuss of a thanks-for-saving-the-town-AJ ceremony where her friends had been falling over each other to say how helpful she was? Yessirree, there darn well had been! So no surprises at all that here she was, helping a friend out, right? Because Applejack was the kind of pony who was always happy to—

It was too much. Applejack burst into a fit of full-bellied giggles.

“Applejack,” came the prim voice of the pony on the receiving end of Applejack’s ‘helpfulness’. “Do you mind? This is no laughing matter.”

With a little effort, Applejack managed to get the giggles under control, but there was no way in Equestria she was going to stop smirking. Not at this! Yup, today’s Sisterhooves Social was going to be one for the books.

“Jus’ go on right ahead, Rarity, don’t mind me.”

So apparently Rarity and Sweetie had had some kind of falling out yesterday, and now Sweetie flat out was not talking to her sister. Real proper “Applejack, please tell my not-sister that...” business.

While Applejack reckoned Sweetie would get over it eventually, Rarity had seemed mighty serious about making amends—which was actually pretty admirable of her, in Applejack’s books—so Applejack, being the helpful pony she was, had stayed up late last night planning out the details of a way for Rarity to make it up to Sweetie. They’d come up with a pretty good plan, if she did say so herself, and she was sure it would bring Rares and Sweetie back together in no time, but, and here was the thing, it had somehow ended up involving Rarity jumping in a big ol’ pit of mud.

It had been a joke suggestion. See, last night, a little after the fillies had gone to bed, and Applejack’s supply of “being a good big sister” advice was beginning to run dry, Rarity had an epiphany. Real dramatic epiphany, Rarity being Rarity. She would run with her sister in tomorrow's race after all. Next problem was that with Sweetie not even talking to Rares, how was that going to happen?

That had dampened spirits for a while until Applejack had idly commented that ponies who fell in the pit always came out unrecognisable because of the mud, so perhaps she could try that? Instead of an immediate dismissal, or perhaps even an angry rise from a Rarity who had been entirely too somber that evening to be any fun, she had gotten a hesitant: “do you... do you think that could work?”

Applejack hadn’t been expecting that.

Long story short, prissy unicorn now stood by icky mud, brought there by the folly of her own hoof. Applejack reckoned she’d let the unicorn live it down eventually...

A year at most. Two on the outside.

Rarity reached out with a tentative hoof, letting it hover over the surface a moment before drawing it back like the pit was full of snakes. She was all done up fancy as always, mane curled and styled, and her various mysterious powders applied.

Well...

Er...

Damn. Primer, foundation, powder, blush. Highlights presumably, with mascara for the eyelashes, and a sheening agent for her coat. Eyeshadow and eyeliner too.

Applejack always felt a bit embarrassed about knowing those words.

“Oh, before I forget, I got you a snorkel,” Applejack added, with an innocent grin.

“Excuse me, snorkel?”

“Well, unless you're planning some kind of highfalutin unicorn magic to help you breathe...” Applejack reached back and pulled a brand new snorkel out of her saddlebags with her teeth. It was pink and lime green and bright blue, about Rarity’s size. That was why Applejack had selected it, because it looked about her size, certainly not because of the clashing colours. She gave it a waggle for good measure. “...’or gona eed ish.”

With a flick of her neck, Applejack flung the snorkel at Rarity, who caught it in her magic. There it hovered slightly further than hoofslength away.

“It’s... that deep?”

“Sugarcube, yer gonna have to lay down and duck your head under if this is gonna work,” Applejack replied.

“You want me to put my head under that!” Rarity exclaimed, eyes widening. “As in, all the way under?”

Applejack glanced at the pit, and back to Rarity. “Why, I do believe yer gonna have to. ‘Case you haven’t noticed, sugarcube, I’m orange. Ah think the game would be well and truly given away if mah head suddenly turned white.” Applejack explained, adding: “jus’ think of all the bits you’ll save on spa mud.”

Facial mask, supplied a helpful part of her noggin. She told it to shut up. Sometimes being willfully ignorant about certain topics was hard work.

“Right, of course,” said Rarity, who stretched her hoof out again, shying just short of the surface. Applejack sighed. The unicorn really was out of sorts today. Applejack had been hoping to provoke some sort of bickering, or an argument, or something.

“Well, you might as well get on—”

“Yes, yes, give me a minute,” Rarity interrupted. “I need a moment to prepare myself... mentally.”

Prepare mentally? What in the name of all things pony did she need to prepare mentally for? Well, Rarity could be a mite strange at the best of times, and that was the truth.

Applejack stepped back to give the unicorn some space, but all she did was keep staring at the mud. When she eventually leaned forward, Applejack’s grin grew as she prepared to savor the moment, but the unicorn just skittered back again. The grin faded and Applejack let out an exasperated sigh.

“Look, Rares, we don’t have a lot of time. Granny’s gonna start the race soon and I need to get back to our sisters before I’m missed.”

Just because Sweetie and Bloom were only two thirds of the Cutie Mark Crusaders, didn’t mean Applejack wanted them loose and unsupervised for too long. The Crusaders had been fairly well behaved lately—which to Applejack’s thinking, meant they were due a disaster any day now, sure as sugar, and when it came she didn’t want it happening anywhere near the farm for a change.

Rarity just continued her staring contest with the muck, acknowledging Applejack with only a nod. Her barrel rose and fell as she took a few deep breaths. Applejack ground her teeth together. She really should have seen this coming.

Now why wouldn’t the unicorn just jump in the mud like she said she would? It wasn’t hard. Applejack could sort of get Rarity’s usual desire to avoid dirt. Putting on all those cosmetics was work, and Applejack could understand a pony not wanting to spoil done work, but the silly pony knew what she was doing today. Sure, all that makeup and styling must have taken at least an hour, but that was her own fault for putting it on in the first place. Why had she even bothered?

Growing impatient, Applejack took a step back. “The muck ain’t gonna hurt you, Rarity. Watch.”

With her best “yeehaa”, she lept past Rarity at full gallop to land right in the smack bang middle of the pit. It was thick and gooey, just the right mixture of dirt and water, and came up to her barrel.

Rarity let out a high pitched whine, jumping away from stray droplets that splashed in her direction. She quickly inspected her flanks, for dirt Applejack supposed.

“Applejack! You nearly—”

“Tarnation, Rarity, you’re going in here anyway!”

“I—” Rarity faltered for a heartbeat. “What I mean to say is, even though I may well intend to get... messy myself in a moment's time, it isn’t very nice to splash mud at another pony.”

Sighing, Applejack clambered out. The unicorn even backed away from her as she did so. “See Rarity? Ah’m fine. It don’t hurt at all.”

“I can see that Applejack,” Rarity replied testily, biting her verbs. “I know dirt does not actually hurt ponies. I am not a simpleton.”

“Well what’s the problem?”

“It’s just... I...” Rarity’s face scrunched up and her expression looked... pained? “I...”

“Come on Rarity, it’s just a little mud. Me and Big Mac get muddy all the time.” Images of the unsupervised Crusaders somehow managing to innocently burn down one of her barns were filling her head. She was itching to get back. “Sure your mane is going to get spoilt, but it don’t matter that much.”

“I...” Rarity bit her lip hard, before twisting her head away and letting out a strangled-sounding snarl. Before Applejack could react, she turned and, head down, retreated at a full gallop.

Applejack squeezed her eyes shut and buried her head in a fetlock. Why did that pony have to go and make everything so complicated?

After a few deep breaths, she opened her eyes and was greeted by sight of the mud. She looked up. The sun was high in the sky, the stalls were nearly set up, and colourful bunting was hung all across the acres. Already, little knots of ponies were wandering over to the track. Across the way, Mac was busy setting up the stage. He waved as he caught her eye, so Applejack waved back. Neither Apple Bloom nor Sweetie were anywhere to be seen.

She looked back down at the mud. It was, as she’d observed, a perfect mix of muck and water. You had to really work to get it right, not so thin as to be just brown water, not so thick that a pony wouldn’t sink in and get properly covered. Somepony fell in every year, and watching whoever it was clamber out, coat all covered, was part of the fun. Always smiles all round, they were.

It did smell a little, now that she thought about it. Runoff from the fields probably got mixed in somehow, but that didn’t make it dangerous. Applejack reached forward with a hoof and touched the surface. There was a little grass sod that had managed to hold together, and over there some of last year’s still-rotting leaves that had floated to the surface. In fact, maybe they should have given it all another mix or two, because there were still quite a few lumps, to tell the truth.

Applejack sighed. “Sure it ain’t pleasant,” she said to herself, “but it’ll wash off.”

Shaking her head, she turned and noticed, to her surprise, that Rarity hadn’t gone far. Only as far as Josh and Marcel, a pair of nearby apple trees.

Against her better judgement, Applejack decided to give it a second go. She trotted over to where Rarity sat in Marcel’s shade, hunched over facing the trunk. Her choice of company was appropriate really. Applejack had always considered Marcel to be the kind of tree that liked to put on airs.

“Look, er, sugarcube...” she began.

Rarity swung her head round. “Oh. Hello Applejack.”

A moment passed, in which Rarity got to her hooves. As she did so, she straightened her tail with a flick of her back legs while also adjusting her mane. She didn’t seem to notice what she was doing.

“Rares...”

Whatever Applejack was going to say was silenced. Rarity was an expressive pony, and her face hosted hundreds of facades. But now Applejack was seeing that rarest of Rarity’s faces. Sincerity.

“I don’t think I can do it,” was all she said. Her voice was soft, quiet, and so very unlike Rarity. Gone even was some of her upper class diction.

“What do you mean, you can’t do it?”

“Just that,” Rarity said. “I don’t think I can do it, Applejack.”

“Look, Rarity, I know this ain’t easy for you,” Applejack said, struggling to come up with some pep talk. She moved to put a comforting hoof on Rarity’s shoulder but thought better of it. Probably not a good idea right now, what with being covered in muck and all. “Now I know you put a lot of effort into always looking your best, but Sweetie will really appreciate this. So do it for her. What do ya say?” She put on her best encouraging smile.

The result was not the one Applejack had hoped for. If anything, Rarity looked even more dejected. “I know this is for Sweetie. The only reason I’m even considering this is for Sweetie. It’s just that when I actually try and go through with it, I just can’t.”

Applejack remained silent. She wanted to reply, tell Rarity that dirt wouldn’t be a problem if she’d just stop being so prissy for one second, but something told her to listen instead.

“You’ve probably been wondering about the makeup, haven’t you?”

“Well, I didn’t want to say nothing, but...”

Rarity looked away. “It just... didn’t feel right to go out without something on,” she said. “I’d feel wrong all day if I didn’t.

“I don’t know how you do it,” she gestured at Applejack’s mud soaked flanks. “When I look at that pit, all I can see is that mud clinging to my coat, working its way between my hairs until it gets to my skin and...” Rarity winced, “...and then it’s all over me. And I know with enough washing it will just come off, but...” She faltered. “I want my sister back, and all I have to do is get a little dirty, that’s all, and I thought I could do it, but it turns out I really can’t, and what does that say about me?”

Applejack cleared her throat while trying to think of what to say. Her hooves and forelegs were seeming rather interesting right now. She noted that she’d probably have to hose them down before picking up Bloom and Sweetie.

On the other side of the field, Granny Smith was hobbling to where Mac had set up the little raised stage area. Applejack watched her climb into her rocking chair.

This was silly. Rarity was just being Rarity and if she’d just listen to reason for one apple-buckin’ moment, she’d see she was making a big fuss over nothing and—

Applejack remembered a time not so long ago, apologizing for not taking the fears of another pony seriously to a pair impossibly old, knowing eyes. They had been disappointed, but they were forgiving eyes too. They made her want to try just that little bit harder, be just a little bit better of a pony. They’d all written their first genuine, bona fide letter to the princess back then, and what had it said?

“You can’t step in the mud,” Applejack said. It was not a question.

“I can’t step in the mud,” Rarity echoed. “I just can't.”

“Rarity, I reckon I owe you an apology, I didn’t realize the dirt was so, so...” Applejack struggled for a word. Bad? Terrifying? Terrifying dirt? She still didn’t understand, but that didn’t make it not true either.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Rarity answered quickly. “I’m the silly pony here.”

Applejack almost laughed. The pair of them were flank to flank, both doing their best to not look at each other. This kind of talk was awkward enough for the both of them.

“Look, Rarity, you don’t have to do this, you know,” Applejack said. “Sure Sweetie’s mighty mad at you right now, but she’ll come around eventually. That’s what sisters do. You’ll see. Jus’ say you’re sorry when she does, and next time try to not make the same mistakes. No need to put yourself through all this.”

Applejack stopped looking at the grass, and glanced round to see how this was being taken.

“No Applejack, that is not acceptable.” Rarity’s voice cracked a little. “It is not acceptable that... that not getting a little muddy is apparently more important than my own sister. I won’t have it.”

“Look, there are probably other ways you can—” Applejack began, but she was cut off.

“No, I said I won’t have it.” Rarity fixed Applejack with a intense stare. “I want you to do me a favor.” Rarity turned her back to Applejack. She straightened her spine, holding her head high and closing her eyes. “Throw me in the pit.”

“Rares?”

“I want you. To throw me in the pit,” Rarity repeated, eyes still shut. “You’re stronger than me. I want you to grab me. And no matter what I say or what I do. I want you. To get me. In that pit.”

Applejack looked from Rarity, to the pit, back to Rarity. As she did, her imagination conjured up slimy brown gunk that wrapped itself around her, working its way through her hairs until she felt like she was suffocating. Those rotting leaves from last year got stuck in her mane, and the stench of the fields worked its way into her nostrils.

“Rarity, I ain’t throwing you in there if it’s gonna hurt you.”

“Mud isn’t going to hurt me, you said it yourself—”

“Rares!”

“Applejack, we’ve been friends for a while now. I need you to do this for me. I need you to be my bravery for me, because I’m not brave enough myself. Just...” Rarity’s still closed eyes scrunched up. “Just do it.”

Applejack stared at the rigid form of the other mare, silent for a moment.

“Okay then.” Applejack licked her lips. “I’ll do it.”

Steeling herself, she ducked her head and charged, aiming to hook her neck under her friend’s barrel. A tiny, high pitched squeal escaped from the other pony as she was thrown over Applejack’s back.

The next few seconds passed in a blur of flailing limbs and motion as Applejack staggered back towards the pit as fast as she could manage. Rarity didn’t actively try and throw herself off, but she did struggle in a panicked, uncoordinated way. To Applejack’s surprise, she didn’t use any magic or even say anything, but Applejack got kicked twice, hard enough to leave bruises.

They reached the pool together, and with a heave, Applejack threw the other pony off. There was a mighty splash followed by a few high pitched whimpers that made Applejack wince. She couldn’t look. She tore her hat off and hid behind it.

After a second or two, the splashing and whimpers stopped. Cautiously, Applejack peered over the top of her hat. In the middle of the pool was a vaguely pony-shaped mound of brown sludge. A heartbeat later two large blue eyes appeared. It lifted a shaking foreleg above the surface for inspection.

“You... you alright, Rarity?” Applejack asked, still mostly behind her hat. She found she was biting her lip.

“Why yes, Applejack,” came the response after a moment. “I do believe so. It is, after all, only a little mud.” The normally immaculate mare tittered hesitantly. “In fact, now that I’m here, it doesn’t seem so bad after all.”

“You sure?” she asked again.

“Yes, Applejack,” came the response. “I’m fine.”

“Well, glad-ta hear it,” Applejack said, feeling a little more relieved. She knew her friend well enough to know that if she was back to being stubborn as a mule, she had to be at least mostly all right, and that would have to be good enough for now. “Lookin’ mighty fine there, partner.”

“Laugh if you must, but with a little effort, perhaps I shall figure out how to pull this look off,” Rarity replied. “You, on the other hand, look like a haystack, as always.”

Applejack bust out laughing, but mentally she added: yup, stubborn as a mule. She’ll be fine.

Rarity’s mud covered flanks and hindquarters appeared as she got to all fours. She shook her head. “Well, I suppose I shall just wait here until it’s time.”

Applejack reached back into her saddlebags again to retrieve the second item her friend would be needing. “Here, you’re gunna need this,” she said, flicking an old, battered Stetson in Rarity’s direction. It caught on Rarity’s horn and dropped neatly on her friend’s head.

Those blue eyes blinked through the mat of mud. “Applejack, you have more than one of those?”

“Don’t go spreading that around, ya’hear?” Applejack snorted. “I gots me a reputation to keep up. Anyway, here’s the—”

“Oh no,” Rarity cut her off, eyeing the snorkle. “Just because I am sitting here, covered in filth, wearing a Stetson, does not mean I cannot have standards. There are lines I will not cross.”

“Sugar—”

“Hum, hum, humm.” The eyes vanished again, as a hoof was raised. Somehow, the pony-shaped pile of mud managed to look like it was holding its nose in the air. “Do not forget Applejack, that I am a unicorn. Just do your part this afternoon and don’t worry about me not being seen.”

A blue-tinted white glow appeared near Rarity’s forehead, visible despite being hidden by the hat.

“Oh and Applejack,” Rarity said, pausing in the middle of the spell. “Not a word of this to Sweetie or the others. Ya hear?”

The glowing rapidly crescendoed in brilliance, causing Applejack to have to blink. When she was able to see again, all that was left was the muddy hole. The clumps of sod floating on the mud appeared completely undisturbed. She raised an eyebrow.

Well, it was probably best to leave the unicorn stuff to the unicorns. Rarity would be in there somewhere and it was best not to think too hard about exactly where.

“I hear ya, Rares,” Applejack said. “Don’t you worry, mah Iips are sealed.”

With a chuckle, Applejack broke off into a canter back to the homestead to hose herself down.

Yup, helping her friends. That was basically what she was all about.

Author's Note

The vectors used in title card are all from the MLP Vector Club. Specifically, they are:

"Rarity 3" by Mihaaaa of Deviant Art, "Applejack" by Shelmo69 of Deviant Art, and "MLP Resource: Trees 02" by ZuTheSkunk of Deviant Art.

So many thanks to those fine people for making their content available for reuse.