Truth-telling Lies

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Written by: Oneimare

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Honesty

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Upon landing, Rainbow nervously glanced around, as if the apple orchards themselves no longer welcomed her. Exposed by the moonbeams, she all but crept to the warm light spilling from the windows of the house in the heart of Sweet Apple Acres.

Yet, as mere steps divided her from entering the abode of the Apple family, her hooves grew heavy, to the point the pegasus feared for the inhabitants of that edifice to hear her reluctant approach. And so, she veered away from the door, heading for the rearward, where the sturdy trap-door would lead her to the cellar; the contents of the oaken barrels resting in the cool underground space might offer her the something she lacked.

Her muzzle bumped into the leather hat and she bounced back, rubbing her nose.

“Oh, hi, AJ,” she nervously greeted the mare who seemed to be slumbering as she leaned against the ancient wall.

Ever so slowly, Applejack tore her eyes from the ground, but Rainbow wasn’t fated to see them—the brim of the hat concealed the emerald gaze, leaving the pegasus only a pair of lips to guess Applejack’s mood.

They were tightly pressed together.

“I ain’t letting ye there t’night.” Her voice expressed nothing, but the unsaid, “Not aft’r what ye did,” hung in the air like a blade ready to drop on Rainbow’s neck.

The two mares faced each other in awkward silence.

“Can’t say I’m really in the mood tonight, anyway,” Rainbow half-lied, her ears tilted halfway back.

No amount of booze is ever going to bleach that memory away. And do I really need a glass of whiskey to give me confidence?

“Hopefully, ye’re in the mood fer sum talkin’,” Applejack neighed.

“Hey, that’s my line,” Rainbow rasped.

Applejack didn’t smile; she brushed past Rainbow and the pegasus wordlessly trailed her inside the house, tailing the orange mare like a second shadow; stumbling, then they passed the main room on their way to the stairs.

Three ponies sat in the light of the lantern. Whereas gloom Applebloom glanced at Rainbow with some sympathy in her eyes, Big Mac spared her a brief look of judgement and Granny Smith followed her with a scathing glare all the way to the first floor.

When they entered Applejack’s room, its owner didn’t bother to light the lamp on the night table, letting the Moon bathe the floorboards in its silver glow. Leaving Rainbow to awkwardly stand at the entrance, she trotted to one of the squat lockers to rummage through its contents till an unmistakable sound of a glass bottle hitting something hard didn’t reach blue ears; aside from flicking them, the pegasus also quirked her eyebrow, but said nothing.

Without a word herself, Applejack plumped on the floor by her bed, letting her head rest on the mattress and motioned with her hoof to take a seat by her side.

Teeth pulled out the cork with a resounding pop and a strong aroma of aged whiskey hit Rainbow’s nostrils with all the ferocity of hooves that harvested the apples distilled into that fiery spirit. The orange mare took a pull from a bottle and remained silent; Rainbow patiently waited.

“Rarity came by mah place t’day,” Applejack nickered at last, her voice hoarse from the alcohol that had burned her throat—that’s what Rainbow hoped for, at least.

Though Applejack stared at the wall of the room with unfocused eyes, Rainbow shifted uneasily at the implied accusation and tried to defend herself, “I didn’t—”

“She dun sum yellin’ ‘t me,” Applejack interrupted her. “Demanded t’know why I ain’t talki’ t’Twilight no more.”

Rainbow blinked at her. “Wait, you aren’t?”

Applejack took another pull from the bottle, lasting longer this time.

“I weren’t acting no mute, jus’ didn’t wanna lie to ‘er—’n there wudn’t much to say if I wanta t’avoid the truth.” The mouth of the bottle kissed AJ’s lips again. “Apparently, it made Twilight sad.”

“Well—”

Growling like a timberwolf, Applejack flung the bottle at the floor, leaving Rainbow shell-shocked as the wave of stinging shards and burning whiskey showered her; from that explosion an orange hoof shot out, grasping her by her shoulder.

“I can’t, Rainbow! It can’t go on like this no more!”

Applejack shook her, but looking at the tears streaming down the freckled muzzle, Rainbow realised that the mare to which that hoof was attached to was just shaking herself.

“I ‘ake up and lie to m’self, I hafta break mah fast with mah family ‘n… ‘n Applebloom be askin’ them quest’ns and I hafta lie to her too—t’mah little sister, Rainbow! Then I go on workin’ ‘n lyin’. I meet mah cus’tmers ‘n lie to them. I talk t’mah friends ‘n hafta t’tell them lies! Mah entire life has become one huge lie!”

Looking in the watery reflection in green pained eyes, Rainbow observed a mare that she hoped she drove away when she broke the mirror.

But I can’t break every mirror.

“I understand,” she whickered to the sobbing pony, then rested her hooves on Applejack’s shoulders, steadying her.

Hanging her head in shame and defeat, Applejack rasped, “Them worst parts—Rarity’s right. Ain’t no matter what I do, it makes mah friend sad. Mah friends.”

“She was never right. And she should come to see Fluttershy sometimes, to see who is actually sad.”

Applejack shrugged off the blue hooves—without any animosity; her limbs just couldn’t support her anymore and she eased her body on the floor, to crumble in an attempt to sit like before her outburst. Except, this time, the orange mare glared at the ceiling with her head tilted back.

“It hafta t’stop,” she neighed in a tone that implied no negotiations.

How long will it take before Fluttershy breaks down like that? How long is Pinkie going to last before she, too, loses it?

As if Rainbow said that aloud, Applejack wondered like she never thought of that before, “When did ye see Pinkie laughin’ last time?”

Swallowing, Rainbow informed her, “Fluttershy snapped at me today. But I’m afraid she will fight… us so we don’t tell Twilight about what’s going on.”

Her words remained unanswered for a while.

“Twilight ain’t a no Princess.” Applejack slowly shook her head. “But, p’haps, Princess’s what we need.”

“Just like that? We barge into the Palace and tattle Twilight out?”

“What choice do we have? We brin’ it up ‘fore Twilight—’n it’s only the three of us—Rarity would come later ‘n convince ‘er of the opposite, draggin’ poor Fluttershy with ‘er.”

Rainbow hung her head, screwing her eyes shut—that whole mess festered for far too long to be easily untangled anymore. And now the time was against her—against her friends.

“When?” she asked, nervously glancing at Applejack; the pegasus didn’t relish in the perspective of meeting the Princesses—Luna especially.

“T’morrow.” Rainbow’s eyes snapped wide open. In response to that Applejack arched her eyebrow and added, “Why be waitin’? Do ye still hope things improve?”

The futility of such an expectation couldn’t be denied, nor the utmost necessity of swift action; yet Rainbow hesitated as some deep part of her clung to the hope of salvaging the nightmare she had helped to create so she might achieve her dream.

Her ears flattened themselves against her skull.

“Aren’t you afraid?”

That earned Rainbow a look of half-confusion and half-bemusement.

“Of what?”

The pegasus pricked her ears up for any rustles that didn’t belong to the canopies of apple trees. Do they know I am here? Do they know why?

None betrayed more than two equines being privy to that conversation and, still, she replied in a hushed tone, “Rarity warned us about the changelings everywhere.”

“Threat’nd, ye mean.” The acidity with which Applejack nickered only waxed as she continued. “Rarity can say whate’r she wants, but them changelings ain’t on ‘er ‘side’.” Rainbow gave her a look but abstained from any comments. “They ain’t on nobody’s side. Them changelings don’t care if we’re tearin’ each other aparts, they don’t care if Twilight’s happy or we’re sad. We should care ‘bout that ‘n that’s all we should care ‘bout.”

There is a changeling who cares. And who should be cared about. Rainbow grimaced as shame flooded her heart with a sharp ache. But it will have to wait.

Once more she fell silent, hesitant to openly affirm her commitment to undoing Twilight’s project and again, she forced herself to speak, though her question shouldn’t have been so hard to voice, “It’s just the two of us or we’re taking Pinkie, too?”

A heavy sigh escaped Applejack’s lips—simultaneously laden with sympathy and exasperation.

“Am sure she’ll want t’come. Don’t worry, Rainbow—whate’r was ‘tween the two of ye… she’ll forgive you.”

But will I forgive myself?

She abruptly stood up and blurted out before something convinced her to change her mind, “I’ll come. And I’ll talk to Fluttershy, maybe she’ll change her mind.”

Applejack only nodded, emerald eyes clouded by exhaustion both physical—borne from a day of work—and mental; nevertheless, thoughts of what might come glittered in her gaze like fish under the moonlight.

The Moon crawled to the middle of the night sky when Rainbow reached her desolated home. She hovered before its yawning door peering inside, knowing that she would find there a stained couch, a stolen gem and herself.

Folding her wings, the pegasus dropped from the clouds; the cold air hit them with a snap when she finally let her feathers carry her. Silent as the breeze, the blue mare glided over the sleeping town till she reached its border with the ominous forest.

“It’s me,” Rainbow murmured, stepping inside the cottage.

Fluttershy lay on the couch, curled into a foetal position, but tense and with her eyes snapped open in mute horror, dripping tears on the cushions as she couldn’t escape the haunting visions.

Rainbow climbed beside the stiff mare and used her wing like a blanket to cover her friend. As she pressed herself to Fluttershy’s back, the yellow pegasus gradually relaxed and with a shudder she slumped, having finally drifted into Luna’s domain.