Spiced, Warm Apple Cider
The course of a day can almost always be predicted by how it begins. Waking up to a dull, cloudy sky after a fitful sleep is – more often than not – a precursor to a less than perfect day. Yet the tides can be turned just as easily by any number of things, big or small.
Breakfast, for example, may be particularly satisfying.
Rarity sat at her kitchen table, daintily sipping tea from a delicate china cup. As though this weren't satisfying enough, the intoxicating smell of sweet carrot pancakes wafted toward her from a pan atop her stove. Carrot pancakes were Rarity’s favourite. They were quite simply unparalleled in the breakfast domain: sweet, soft, warm and filling. This promised to be a meal which made up for any shortcomings in the weather – whatever they might be.
For another thing, somepony else was making them for her. Rarity watched as Fluttershy tended diligently to the cooking process. Every now and then, she would flip a pancake or adjust the flame below the pan. After a few minutes, Fluttershy slid the pancakes from the pan and stacked them carefully onto a plate. With a small flourish, she flew over to the table and placed the plate in front of Rarity. She may also have said something, but as soon as the plate had touched the table, Rarity could no longer focus on anything other than its bountiful conents.
The presentation of the meal was befitting of even the classiest bistro. Each pancake was perfectly round and identically sized. The stack sat directly in the centre of the plate and small knob of butter had been placed on top. This had already begun to melt and was slowly slipping away towards the edges of the pile.
Rarity closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose. The smell was comforting; it warmed her insides and brought a broad smile to her lips.
“Ah, divine,” she sighed happily.
Her mouth watered with anticipation as she cut her first soft, spongy forkful. The second it touched her tongue, a festival of flavours erupted into being. Most noticeable there was the taste of rich buttermilk, though this was permeated by the subtly spicy sweetness of the grated carrot and the creamy, saltiness of the butter. It was a mouthful of perfection.
Another soft sigh escaped her throat. Some things in life were simple, pure and filled with unadulterated pleasure. Sweet carrot pancakes were one of them. She lifted another forkful to her mouth, followed by another, savouring every bite and every moment.
When at last she reopened her eyes, she was sated and her plate was empty. As was her kitchen. How strange? She began to wonder where Fluttershy had gone, but before she had a chance to consider it properly, her course of thought was interrupted by a sharp tap at her window. She looked outside and saw Pinkie Pie waving frantically in her direction. When she opened the window, she was immediately bombarded with a wealth of unexplained information.
“Come quick! Twilight has something she wants you to see! Well I don’t know if you’d say see. I mean you’ll see it too but... Well, you’ll see! Follow me!”
Rarity stood dumbfounded for a few seconds but was spurred into action when Pinkie Pie turned her tail and started galloping away from her. Whatever this was, it seemed that she was extremely excited about it. That said, the list of things Pinkie wasn't incredibly excited by would fit on a napkin. Still, something told her this was important. With no further explanation necessary, Rarity tore out of her house and into the glorious sunshine of a beautiful autumn day.
She galloped after her friend who was already barely visible in the distance, with nothing to go on but a solitary pink speck on the horizon. She ran hard and she ran fast, scarcely taking notice of where she was going. All she knew was that she had to see Twilight's... whatever it was. Had Pinkie said?
Before long, Rarity began to tire. She screwed her eyes shut for a few moments to be rid, however briefly, of the glare of the sun. She instantly regretted this, however, as when she opened them again, Pinkie Pie was gone from her field of vision. Rarity stopped dead, panting and began squinting around for any sign of movement: anything that might tell her where her friend had disappeared to.
How rude? Why would you tell someone to follow you then run off to where they can’t?
It was only once she had caught her breath that Rarity properly examined her surroundings. She was stood in a clearing within a vast forest of apple trees. The bright red fruit hanging from the branches looked almost otherworldly, glistening as they were in the sunlight. Each tree cast a long shadow across the ground, though their direction bore no relation to the position of the sun. Rarity shuddered.
How odd? What kind of place was this?
Even as she looked at the sky to assess where the shadows ought to have been, she noticed that it was rapidly clouding over. A chilling wind blew through the clearing and scattered a few yellowy-red leaves around. The faint rustling sound this created added to Rarity's uneasiness. She continued to look around. A short distance to her right, disappearing in to the border of the clearing, was a small wooden building almost like a barn.
It was painted in the brightest shade of crimson – though that must have been a long time ago as the paint was peeling off in a great many places. The stark white details, which must once have given an indication of the building’s shape, did little to improve its appearance now. It looked broken down, derelict.
Distinctly eerie.
She couldn’t understand what purpose anypony could have for building it there or even how they had managed it considering the density of the forest at that point. When she came to think of it, she wasn’t quite sure how she had gotten there, never mind the building. She couldn’t remember having run through any trees yet there she stood, surrounded by them on all sides.
What was more, there appeared to be no way back through them, nor forwards for that matter. The whole place appeared to be some kind of impenetrable labyrinth and that didn’t bode well with her. Certainly it was somewhere she had never been before. It was also somewhere that she made a mental note never to visit again. If she could get away in order to come back, anyway.
She trotted around the perimeter of the clearing, searching for a path or some kind of track leading away. To her horror however, the wall of trees appeared to be completely impenetrable. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as she cantered back and forth frantically. Even as she began to lose hope, her eyes continued to dart around, looking for something. Anything. Celestia help her, she would dig if there was nothing else for it.
A sudden blinding flash and a deafening crash of thunder caused Rarity’s head to jerk towards the heavens. Whatever little clear sky there had been moments ago was now hidden behind a curtain of dense grey clouds. The tumultuous rumble was followed by an ominous silence. It was as if the whole world was waiting, waiting.
A few spots of rain fell, tapping lightly on the unicorn’s shoulders. Yet even as this gentle shower began, it grew impatient. Before long Rarity was caught up in a torrent; a downpour of apocalyptic proportions beat down upon her back soaking her beautiful violet mane in an instant. Panic washed over her in tandem with the sheet after sheet of ice cold water. She couldn’t possibly stay out in this weather, she would surely drown. She could barely draw breath without choking. There was nothing else for it. Without stopping to think, Rarity bolted for shelter. Any shelter. She ran as fast as she could towards the only dry place in sight.
With all of her might, she flung herself through the doors of the barn and landed painfully on her side. There she lay, her eyes closed to shield them from the stinging drops of water running off of her sodden mane. She listened to the rumble of the continuing storm, gasping for air. The soft hay below her and the comparative warmth of the building comforted her. Still she felt dreadfully uneasy about her sanctuary – if it could be called such a thing. She didn’t dare open her eyes just in case its interior was as eerie looking as she expected.
Then something happened to change her mind.
As her breath began to steady, she was able to begin breathing through her nose again. Her reward for this was a full on olfactory bombardment. The air was warm and thick with the scent of cinnamon and cloves; vanilla and aniseed; nutmeg and caraway all melding together alongside the distinctive, fruity smell of pressed apples. It was a most intoxicating bouquet. Even better than that of sweet carrot pancakes.
It was the aroma of spiced, warm apple cider. But not just any old apple cider. The balance of the spices was such that it could only have been brewed by one pony and that pony was...
“Rarity? What in the hay are y’all doin’ here? And why is it that ya look like you've been swimmin’ with a big 'ol sea serpent?”
Applejack. Rarity’s eyes sprung open and she felt herself blush. Applejack’s comments left her all too conscious of how she must look. She wasn’t fit to be seen. Her wet mane hung limply in windswept clumps over her face. Her tail looked like a long strand of frayed rope. Her magnificent white coat had turned a dull grey and stuck to her skin like sandwich wrap. Her mascara had begun to run down her cheeks. She looked altogether bedraggled.
Conversely, Applejack was the very picture of marely radiance. Her emerald green eyes glistened softly as they perused her unexpected guest. Her golden mane hung loose, It’s long, straight threads caressing the earth her strong, muscular shoulders. It was the first time Rarity had ever seen her without it tied back. It was magnificent. Her peachy orange coat looked dazzling in the dim light which pervaded the building and her cheeks were bright and flushed. Yet far from looking tired, Applejack seemed perky and full of energy.
She looked beautiful, Rarity concluded. Beautiful like no mare she had ever seen. Beautiful like no stallion she had ever seen.
“I got... caught in the rain... I was...” Rarity began, but she faltered.
What had she been doing? She had been in that forest clearing then it had rained. How had she ended up in the clearing, though? Something about Pinkie Pie and carrot pancakes... She remembered running quite a distance. What had it been, though? She couldn’t think. Her mind already fairly preoccupied with other, more pressing matters.
Whatever she had been doing, it didn’t matter any more. Applejack simply nodded her head and smiled warmly as though this incomplete explanation had answered her question perfectly. She turned away, walking towards a cauldron which was letting off a small amount of steam. Rarity felt compelled to follow the other pony, wordlessly and completely in her thrall. She felt butterflies flitting around in her stomach as she watched Applejack stir the contents of the cauldron with a large ladle. A small lock of hair fell across her brow as she worked.
Rarity shook her head, trying to fathom why she suddenly felt so enamoured with her friend. She had never felt any kind of attraction to her before, whether romantic or otherwise. She was assuredly into stallions. Besides, this was Applejack. They were friends, yes, but they didn't have all that much in common. Yet the feelings she had for Applejack at that moment were unmistakably of desire. Of lust. She suddenly found herself wanting to hold the earth pony, hug her close to her so that they could be together. She wanted to caress her muzzle. She wanted to play with her mane. She wanted, more than anything in the world, to kiss her; to feel the softness of those shapely lips pressed against her own.
She continued to stare at Applejack, her imagination running wild. The other pony continued with her work, completely oblivious to the tension welling up inside her. Some part of her knew that she couldn’t act out her desires. That would be the quickest way to end their friendship. There was no way Applejack would let her kiss her. Or lick her neck. Or nibble her ear. Applejack was a mare who liked stallions too. Wasn't she? She had never distinctly said.
And the more she thought about it and the more she watched her friend work, the more she felt like she had to do something. She had to act. It would be worth the risk. She could always pass it off as a prank or something if it backfired. That could work. Throwing caution to the wind, she subtly tried to catch Applejack’s eye, flicking her mane here and there and clearing her throat softly.
When Applejack finally looked up to meet her gaze, it was as though a flame had been lit between them. She felt her cheeks flush hotly as the orange pony smiled at her: it was a heat that could only be matched by the burning desire in her heart. There seemed to be some kind of understanding in Applejack's eyes. A knowingness, as if she already knew what was about to happen.
Without looking away even for an instant, Rarity began to approach Applejack, preparing herself to take that last leap of faith. As the gap lessened, her heartbeat grew steadily faster. Rarity heard the rational part of her brain screaming at her to stop. She ignored it. It was too late anyway. She was now only inches away from Applejack who had turned to face her, leaning her head to one side as she did so.
Rarity took another deep breath, ready to plant her lips on the other pony’s. They were so close now. She could feel Applejack's breath, her muzzle, her coat. She took one last, steadying breath. She was ready. Willing. But she stopped short.
Something was wrong. Whereas she had been expecting the aroma of cinnamon, cloves and apples, instead she was overwhelmed by the smell of...
“Smoke?”
The hazy confidence that had been coursing through her during the whole encounter evaporated in an instant. She glanced rapidly around the barn. Panic gripped her just as it had when that storm had started. She searched for the source of the smell, galloping around the suddenly oppressive space. Applejack watched her curiously. Apparently she was bemused by this behaviour.
Rarity closed her eyes, stamping her feet in frustration at Applejack’s lack of concern. She was about to yell at the other pony. Cry out for her to do something other than stand there with that stupid expression on her face. The next moment, however, and entirely without warning, she found herself on her back, surrounded by darkness and cocooned in some sort of thin cloth. This only served to fuel her panic.
“Smoke! Smoke!” she screamed.
She attempted to spring back to her feet, but instead fell flat on her face. The ground was much lower than she had expected it to be.
In the distance, she heard the shrill whine of a smoke alarm. Good, now maybe Applejack would realise there was something wrong. Without skipping a beat, she kicked her front legs free from the material which had been holding them in place and made haste towards the source of the sound. She wasn't entirely sure what she would do when she reached it. After all, she still couldn't see and two of her appendages were still tightly ensconced in something.
She dragged herself along as quickly as she could using only her forelegs but before she had gotten very far at all, she felt the ground once again disappear from beneath her and she tumbled painfully down a long staircase. She hadn't remembered seeing a staircase. Perhaps she had simply overlooked it.
A painful, dizzying few seconds passed before she crashed in a heap at the bottom. Her head was pounding from the numerous impacts. Her horn felt as though it might have been bruised and her ears were twisted and bent but this didn't prevent her from hearing a shrill cry rising above the screech of the alarm.
“Rarity!” it accosted her.
Something about the voice was familiar. It wasn’t Applejack, though. It was altogether more irritating. Not least because she couldn't explain how its owner had come to be in the same place as her.
Unless...
At that moment, realisation began to descend upon her. Everything began to fall into place as she lay in agony with her legs sticking out at odd angles. She felt the material of her bed sheets as they pooled around her flank. She felt the soft carpeted floor of her own hallway bellow her.
A dream! It had been a dream! She wasn't quite sure how she felt about this. Raising her right hoof, she lifted her sleep mask away from her eyes, blinking away the stinging light of the morning. As the world began to form through the haze, she was greeted by the sight of her kitchen.
Unfortunately this time there was no sign of Fluttershy cooking pancakes. Nor was there any sign of Applejack and her long blonde mane. She could have accepted the situation even if the room had been completely empty or quiet, but it was neither. Standing by the stove amidst a shroud of thick, grey smoke was little filly who looked at her crossly as though it was she who had been disturbed by Rarity. Sweetie Belle pouted and narrowed her eyes.
“Argh, you ruined the surprise! I was gonna serve you breakfast in bed!”
