Of course, these effects are more typically observed in populations…
Twilight’s vision blurred for a moment, before it slipped into total darkness. She let her head dip. The softness of her comforter seemed all the more inviting—
No. I can’t let this beat me. The Princess gave me this assignment, and I’m going to finish it!
She shook her head, clearing the fog that had begun to build before her eyes and bringing them back down to the page.
Of course, these effects…
The words blurred again, and her bottom lip parted company with its top sister. A low groan escaped between them.
No. This report is going to be done!
She shook her head again, though much harder and for longer this time. So hard, she hoped, that the fog had been blown all the way to Cloudsdale. Or wherever it had come from, just as long as it wasn’t here.
Okay, Twilight. Focus.
She looked back down at the book that lay cradled in her fore-hooves. She willed her itching eyes to stay on the letters, to let her absorb these wondrous words and let her truly grapple with the knowledge that their writer wished to impart, but the flickering light made them dance and shift on the page.
Of… course… these—
Thud.
Her nose pressed against the thick, hefty book, its words looming massive in front of her bleary eyes that just kept blinking. But the pain she expected turned into nothing more than a mild pulse. At least, that’s what her brain told her it was.
The room around her swam hazily for a second as she sat back upright, before she stopped and it cleared. She lifted a hoof to her muzzle, pressing tentatively.
Now it hurt.
She tried to let out a sigh, but it turned into something much longer and deeper before she could stop it, and her lips smacked against each other beyond her control.
Oh, what’s the point…
Barely able to keep them open, Twilight let her eyes drift around the room. Surely there would be something in here that could help her stay awake?
Her eyes flicked up to the headboard. The candle… No. What was she thinking? Was she about to burn herself with it?
She snorted and scrunched her muzzle. But even as she did, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the wobbly little flame that barely peeked out from the rim of its holder.
Didn’t I put in a new candle after dinner?
She shook her head and looked elsewhere. A bookshelf solidified through the gloom, but she discarded the idea of cracking open another thick, heavy tome with thick, heavy paragraphs filled with thick, heavy knowledge…
She pushed her head back up with her hoof, trying to ignore how it felt as though she was trying to lift a boulder.
No. For once, more reading was not the answer.
Lifting her hoof even further to cover another deep gulp of air, she looked over to the other side. There was the one thing that she could see clearly. The gentle glow of the moon, shining in through the open window, and the stars that clustered and twinkled around it in the inky blackness poked their way through the fuzzy shroud that clouded her eyes.
That was odd. She couldn’t remember the moon being that far across the sky—
No! Don’t think about that!
She sighed again, this time without yawning, and looked back at the window. Then again, maybe some fresh air would help…
“Twilight…”
Her ears perked right up, losing the cotton-wool-like fuzziness that had been filling them.
“Twilight…”
Oh…
Narrowing her eyes, she aimed them at the moons and stars at the end of her blue bedspread.
It’s you… again…
“I think it’s time you called it a night, Twilight. Don’t you agree?”
NO!
She shook her head again, and pushed her aching muzzle into a frown.
I have to do this! The Princess trusted me with this report into the reduced ratio of unicorns compared to other types of ponies in isolated communities, and I will finish it!
She tried to hold her scowl, but after a few seconds of effort her jaw just couldn’t anymore, and the expression faded into something of a pout.
“She asked you to finish it by the weekend, though, didn’t she?”
Well, yes… But I scheduled to have it done for tonight! Even if I lost most of today thanks to Applejack wanting me to organise her barn refurbishment, I can’t leave it for another day! Think of what would need rearranging!
Her eyes creaked as they widened again. There was her audience with The Mayor. And her meeting with the Ponyville Bookworm Brigade into their purchases for the next season. And her organising of the census for the area. And on top of that there was the refurbishment itself to add in…
Her lungs burned as she wheezed them back into heavy use, and she put a hoof to her chest. Where was going to find the time for all of those?
No. I have to get this report done. Tonight.
“But Twilight… Don’t you think you would be able to do this more productively in the morning, when you’re refreshed, rather than spending three hours staring at the same piece of paper?”
Now that wasn’t fair! She was Celestia’s prized pupil! She had maintained a perfect grade-point average for her entire schooling in Canterlot. She had spent hour upon hour in the libraries at her schools, pouring over books thicker than her hooves and practically inhaling their contents, before switching to the next, even heavier book and doing exactly the same thing without even skipping a beat! Of course she knew what she was doing!
Of course, these effects—
Wait.
Twilight sighed again, and she finally let her head slump.
“Come on, Twilight. You know it’s for the best…”
Yeah, I guess you’re right.
She ran a hoof up her face, and again it felt as though the limb weighed hundreds of times as much as it should.
A sudden vision filled her mind, of a purple unicorn with her mane tousled so far that its pink stripe could no longer be called one, slumped halfway down one of the library’s staircases, snoring louder than a foghorn and with a little puddle growing underneath her gaping mouth.
There really was no point in continuing.
One last time, she pushed her legs against the softness of her bed and stood up. They ached, they groaned, and she felt one of her knees click, but at least they responded unlike the last time this happened.
She leant forwards and blew out the candle, finally extinguishing the wavering golden glow and leaving the room dark again. Moments later she replaced it with a soft, reddish radiance as she gently placed her book on her bedside table, remembering to slip in a piece of parchment before she finally closed it.
She wobbled a little on her hooves as the light of her magic faded and the darkness grew, now drawing itself over her eyes again.
“Almost there, Twilight.”
She smirked, but it was quickly split by another long, deep yawn that popped her ears.
Lifting the quilt, she slipped herself into tender embrace of her soft mattress. Cotton caressed her limbs as she stretched out into the cool expanse, curling her hooves and smiling.
Oh, I needed this…
The fluffy pillow welcomed her head and wrapped it snugly.
“Only the best for you, Twilight.”
The only reply was a soft, quiet snore.
Big Macintosh quietly pulled the door closed. He brought his head back up to its proper height, before stretching his neck even further to get rid of the tight knot at its base. As it loosened, he smiled.
Even by his own standards, it had been a long day today: up before the crack of dawn; feeding the pigs; making sure they actually did get through them old apples this time; cooking breakfast with Granny; making sure that Apple Bloom got to school on time; bucking half the south orchard with AJ; finalising the payments on their new plough; heading out into Ponyville to work the apple stand; making sure his voice still worked when customers came; coming back and watching the balance sheets tip back into the black; rebuilding that bit of the fence by the Everfree; washing up after supper; getting AB and her friends down from the roof; taking Sweetie Belle back home; showering; tucking AB in even if she said she didn’t want it…
And now… bed…
Macintosh slipped out of his yoke and hung it on its spot on the wall, the corners of it finding their usual ridges. He trotted over and drew the curtains, before blowing a quick puff at the candle on his bedside.
His room now comfortably dim, Macintosh pulled back the blanket and lay down on his bed. The old frame creaked a little and the mattress sagged under him, but Macintosh wasn’t worried. This bed was Apple Family craftsponyship. It had been his Pa’s, back before he had met his Ma, and Pappy Johnagold had been just as big a pony as he was. Just the other week, when Apple Bloom had been looking through those old photo albums again, Granny had said that there wasn’t even an inch between he and his Pa in height.
Then again, Macintosh remembered, eyebrow rising, didn’t Granny say Apple Fritter has the same blue mane as AJ this morning?
Macintosh smiled, and dragged the blanket back over him. Its cool softness washed over his aching legs. The old mattress’ lumps pressed against his back in their familiar way.
And all around him, Sweet Apple Acres was nice and quiet.
His smile stretched further than its normal crease, and he let his head fall into the wide valley in the pillow. Gently, Machintosh closed his eyes…
“Oh, Macintooosh!”
Macintosh’s smile vanished.
Eeyup?
“Oh, come on, Macintosh. There’s no need for that tone.”
Sure seems like it.
“Oh, really! You know I wouldn’t bother you for no reason, don’t you Macintosh? I can tell that something is troubling you.”
Macintosh cracked an eye open, glaring at his pillow. Nope.
“You mean there isn’t anything bothering you.”
Eeyup.
“Well… there may not be anything bothering you now, Macintosh, but you know as well as I do what will happen.”
Macintosh snorted, and rolled over.
“Either we can get think about this now, Macintosh, or it’ll just bubble up as you’re finally drifting off and you’ll spend the whole night thinking about it. Now, which do you think sounds better, hmm?”
Macintosh pursed his lips and sighed. That voice was right. It was always right.
It was at market, today.
“Yes…? Go on…”
Ms Twilight came over as I was closing up.
“Twilight? That lovely purple mare who’s friends with Applejack? Surely she didn’t say anything that would trouble you. Unless she came over to apologise again for giving your sister that book.”
Macintosh shook his head.
“So what did she say then?”
It weren’t what she said.
“Oh…”
Macintosh bit his lip. She kept looking at the ground when she was talking to me, and she blushed when she did look at me.
“Ah… Another mare falls victim to your charms, Macintosh. Why, you must be proud—”
You know I’m spoken for.
“Yes… I know… And surely you could tell Twilight that.”
Macintosh shifted back across the pillow, screwing his eyes shut. I know, but… It’s Ms Twilight, for Celestia’s sake. If it weren’t for her, I’d still take all day to write a legible tax return. And she’s got that little smile of hers, and she’s just so nice… I can’t say no to her…
“Why, Macintosh! I didn’t realise you were that insatiable… Then again, I suppose there is plenty of you to go around—”
You know what I mean.
“Of course I do. We went through this only last week, did we not?”
Macintosh sighed again. I know, but it was like the days before Hearts and Hooves Day all over again. There isn’t a mare in this village who isn’t sweet, or kind, or special in her own way, and they all deserve to have somepony special. And when they come up with those big doe-eyes and those smiles like it means the whole world to them, I… I just feel awful…
Macintosh’s eyes shot open. Narrowing them, he stared at the ceiling and huffed. What the hay am I thinking? Like I’m that important…
“Hmm, I wouldn’t discredit yourself too much, Macintosh. I can think of somepony who thinks that way about you.”
Macintosh flipped over, burying his face in the pillow. Not helping.
“Yes; I don’t think she’ll be too happy if she hears that other mares are making passes at her beau, and that he did nothing about it.”
Macintosh stayed still. Eeyup.
“Do you remember how you acted with the last mare who blushed when she tried to bat her eyes at you?”
Eeyup.
“Well, I think you’ve got nothing to worry about, then. Just let Twilight down gently. If she’s as nice as she sounds, then I don’t think there’ll be too much of a problem.”
Macintosh had a sudden vision of a little clearing in Whitetail Wood. Of a world where the low sun scattered through the leaves and tinged everything gold. Of the remains of a nice, quiet picnic with a lovely mare. Of the same lovely mare wrapped gently in his hooves, smiling weakly. Of a light dampness building on his chest. Of his voice mumbling, “M’sorry.”
If you say so…
“Oh, come now, Macintosh! She hasn’t held it against you.”
That was true. When their paths crossed these days, she still greeted him with the same smile as before, but without the blush. And the day after their picnic, she was the one who asked if they could still be friends.
“You’ll see, Macintosh. This will work out, in the end…”
Macintosh slowly wriggled his head deeper into the pillow, turning to face sideways.
Eeyup…
He closed his eyes again, and those thoughts soon faded into the warmth of his bed. His breaths deepened to a comfortable, slow rhythm.
“Oh, and, Macintosh?”
Macintosh didn’t open his eyes. Eeyup?
“When will your wonderful companion be staying over again? Soon?”
…
“Maybe this time you can surprise her by arriving via the back passage?”
…
“Or perhaps you can slip into something from her most private collection of velve—”
Shut up.
