The Witless

by Reviewfilly

Rating: teen
Tags: Crossover, Alternate Universe, Main 6, Nightmare Moon, Applejack, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Pinkie Pie
Length: 51086

After illegally harvesting apples at her own farm and meeting a sketchy benefactor, Applejack must try her hardest to keep her morals as she stumbles up the rungs of the social ladder.

Decades passed after the banishment of the Sun Tyrant and the return of the rightful Sovereign of the Moon. Life resumed its course, even if not exactly in the same fashion, despite the hushed whispers of Solar rebels in plain sight and dark carriages stopping at ponies' homes at night.

Applejack herself knew or cared little about this, however. As long as she had her farm, her family, and—most importantly—her apples, all was well.

At least until she harvested the wrong tree, and met the wrong pony at the worst possible time...

Now with a review from /mlp/ and one from PaulAsaran!

A ponyfic adaptation of the 1969 Hungarian cult-classic, a Tanú (The Witness). No prior knowledge is assumed or necessary. For more details, please see the blogpost.

Proof- and preread by Equimorto and Jessi.

Published 2023-03-27 19:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2023-07-10 09:34:40 UTC

1. The Apples Must Fall!

“Call them, with a mellow calf’s mouth,
Those folks, diligent and poor.
Tell them: If things were to go south,
Don’t be heroes, just look for a door.”

- Attila József

Applejack, for instance, never quite imagined herself as the heroine sort either. She lived on a small farm on the edge of a sleepy little village, owning little more than a productive yet humble farm, and a trusty Stetson hat.

She also had an older brother and a little sister. They used to have a grandmother too, until she ran away with a Solar rebel shouting wildly about “that young whippersnapper having too much nerve trying to take over the kingdom.” Occasionally Applejack hoped the old mare would magically appear in her old rocking chair, but recently she had bigger things to worry about.

As usual she woke early before the Sun even finished properly rising, and set out with her trusty pup Winona to make sure her cherished apple orchard was still in order. There was nothing that brought as much joy to her heart as seeing her beloved trees grow taller and stronger each day. Some of them she even talked to, calling them names as if they were friends and family, and knowing their each whim and need by heart. She prided herself on the fact that during the years she’d run the farm, not a single one of them ever fell to illness or pests.

She slowly trotted between the orderly rows, gently looking left and right, while Winona yapped excitedly as she ran off to chase away a few squirrels looking for an easy snack. Applejack watched the spectacle with unmasked joy. She knew the dog was far too soft-hearted to ever hurt any of the critters, but also that the squirrels didn’t know that. She slowly continued her pilgrimage towards the other end of the orchard, coming across a small clearing where a set of stones were carefully arranged to spell out

LONG LIVE OUR GREAT PRINCESS!

As her eyes passed over the text, Applejack nodded to herself in satisfaction, happy with her own work. A second later a squirrel made its way through the piles, Winona following close behind and sending several stones clattering away.

“Darnit,” Applejack grumbled under her breath, as she rose a hoof to her face. With an annoyed sigh she trotted closer and began repairing the sentence. She placed a rock here, aligned another there, and with only a few minutes of work it was as good as new. Mere moments after she finished and cast one last long look of approval at the rocks, she heard yelling from nearby.

“Applejack! Applejack!” the voice cried. “They’re selling apple jam!”

Applejack immediately forgot the hardship she just went through. Even though her family was one of the greatest providers of apples in the region, they weren’t allowed to keep any of them. She had learned to get used to it by now. The joy of just tending to the trees was fulfilling enough to her, even if it had been a long while since her family last ate anything but hay and meagre vegetables. But the chance to finally experience that sweet delight again? It was too good to be true.

She took the time to bark a quick “thank you” to her courteous neighbour, then burst into a gallop, dodging trees and fences at full speed to reach the market before it was too late. By the time she’d arrived, there was already a great queue in front of the magical stall which promised apple-filled goodness. Ponies from all around town had gathered there, pushing and shoving each other trying to get a better spot.

Applejack joined the back of the queue and gave her bits a quick count. It seemed to be just enough. She gulped in anticipation, thinking of her options once she got her hooves on the coveted substance. Maybe she would bake Apple Bloom a proper apple pie for once, let her finally be reminded of what she was named after.

Hardly two minutes passed when a hoof suddenly reached out and slammed the stall’s front board shut with a loud bang, closing the shop in the face of the still sizable crowd, including Applejack herself.

“That’s it for now!” the shopkeep yelled from behind the board. “Come back next week.” The crowd sighed as a single pony, knowing in most cases “next week” really meant “maybe in several months”, then slowly dispersed.

Applejack remained in place like a statue for far longer, while desperation and anger welled between her emerald eyes. In silent fury, her mind concocted a great and terrible plan, and she made up her mind to execute it. Without a word, she spun around and stormed home.

There she gathered her family. Both little Apple Bloom and Big McIntosh stared at her with wide eyes, as their sister huffed and puffed, pacing around the room.

“I’ve had just about enough of hay and dry vegetables,” she barked, loud enough to show her rage, yet quiet enough not to be heard by anypony just so happening to be listening in. She slammed a hoof against the wooden floors of the house. “We’re harvestin’ Bloomberg tonight.”

“B-but Sis, do we have to?” Apple Bloom asked with a tear in the corner of her eye.

Applejack let out a sharp laugh at her emotional question, tossing her bits in front of her sister’s hooves. “Feel free to make jam out of these then, if ya can.”

“Poor Bloomberg,” droned Big Mac, while his impassive face turned a shade darker than usual.

“We have to do it,” the head of the family repeated her unquestionable judgment.

“Right now?”

“Tonight.”

The rest of the day passed in tense anticipation. Once Applejack heard the old clocktower ringing through the darkness of the early night and had made sure nopony else seemed to be nearby, she trotted inside the house, pushing a table to the side once she got into the kitchen.

A secret trapdoor revealed itself, which she opened and slowly descended into the basement, hiding the one family heirloom Applejack was always careful not to reveal to the authorities. Above ground, Big Mac hastily placed the table back where it belonged and sat down next to it with Bloom. He tried whistling a tune, horribly off in key, both to calm his frayed nerves and to hopefully mask any noises from down below, while Bloom kicked her hooves around, mostly out of boredom and—though she never would have admitted it—slight nervousness.

For a while their worries seemed to be unfounded, that was until out of the blue somepony loudly knocked on the door. Apple Bloom jumped off her chair and went over, carefully opened the door. Behind it two grim looking batponies peered into the house. The older one wore a small crescent-Moon pendant on his chest which gleamed in the lamplight, showing that he was part of the Night Guard. He eyed the two ponies inside with open suspicion, but remained silent for the time being. His younger partner was a petite mare, whose cheeks immediately began to burn upon spotting Big Mac, and she quickly slapped a wing in front of her face to hide her unprofessional behaviour.

“Is there an Applejack here?” the stallion asked.

“Naaw, sis is away tonight,” Bloom replied, blinking innocently.

“What is she doing?”

“Visitin’ friends.”

“In the dead of night?”

“Yup,” this time the answer came from Big Mac, who wanted to take his own share of the action.

“Why?”

“She’s too busy working in the orchard during the day.”

While they talked, the two officers looked around the room for anything suspicious. When everything seemed to be in order, the stallion turned back to Bloom.

“And what were you two just doing?”

“We were sittin’.”

“Don’t joke around with me, filly,” the older bat growled. He flashed his fangs, but Bloom remained unfazed, looking at him with the same childish innocence. “Tell me, do you have apples here?”

“Yup, the whole family,” she answered with pride.

The constable groaned in exasperation. “No, I mean actual apples.”

“Course not, mister!” Apple Bloom’s sweet tone and golden smile were disarming. Her words could have struck doubt into anypony’s heart. “Sis weren’t able to buy any at the market today.”

The bat-stallion looked at his partner, who was still visibly flustered, and rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh. Well, don’t get too comfortable, we’ll be back soon!” With that, the two left as quickly as they came.

Meanwhile, down below and not knowing anything of the situation above, Applejack got to work, even if it brought her little joy. Bloomberg was the Apple family’s most cherished secret. He was a tree, perhaps a bit less well-endowed than his cousins outside, yet unlike them what he received in terms of service was truly the cream of the crop. Each of his ripe, gigantic apples were positively shining from the wavy flame of the lamp hanging above him.

For fifteen years she and her family pampered Bloomberg, protecting him from wind and Sun, pests and rain. Each of his little twigs were cut and shaped with special care, to minimise discomfort and maximise yield. The great pot he stood in was mixed with all manners of fertilisers and minerals, providing a potent environment for him to grow in.

Applejack quickly ran a few calculations in her head as she stepped closer. It would have taken about five more years until the apples were truly grown to their greatest and best potential. She couldn’t even imagine what an apple of such supernatural quality could taste like, but she was sure it was the closest thing a mortal pony could get to alicornhood. But, like always, need was a great source of incentive, so with a heavy sigh Applejack placed a basket under Bloomberg and slowly plucked the first apple from his branches.

It felt to her like her own mane was being torn out lock by lock, but she gritted her teeth and continued, slowly filling the basket with the most glorious harvest Sweet Apple Acres had seen in decades. Occasionally a few weird noises hit her ears from above, and gave her pause, but she trusted her siblings to handle whatever was going on topside and fully devoted herself to the gruesome task at hoof.

Soon the deed was done. Applejack cast one final look at Bloomberg, now mutilated, and took off her hat, holding it close to her chest. She allowed herself the weakness of a few tears. With a heaving sigh, she wiped her eyes and climbed the ladder leading back to the kitchen, before rapping on the trapdoor. Scraping could be heard from above before it opened, revealing the anxious stares of her siblings.

Their anxiety didn’t last long once the two laid eyes on the basket behind Applejack, and it was replaced by sheer awe. They too climbed down and, once they paid their respects to Bloomberg, the rest of the night was spent with diligent work. The family cleaned the apples, removed their cores, ground them, baked them, put them into dough, and created twenty different dishes, each more mouthwatering than the last.

Deep into the work, Winona’s loud barking suddenly filled the air, and all three ponies froze in place while the seconds ticked by in almost painful slowness. For a minute or so silence reigned, then Applejack slowly regained her smile and the work continued. Finally, they stashed all of the hot pastries on shelves next to the freshly barren Bloomberg and headed off to bed.

It was the earliest moments of dawn when Applejack awoke to the sound of impatient knocking at her door. She begrudgingly blinked the sleep out of her eyes and slowly trotted downstairs to look outside, coming face to face with the two bats from the previous night as she opened up.

“Howdy, officers,” she greeted them with a yawn. “You two having trouble sleepin’ or somethin’?”

The old stallion gave no answer, he merely shoved the farmpony to the side and barged into the kitchen. He sniffed around, his nostrils expanding and contracting rapidly, when suddenly his wings fluttered in triumph.

“A-ha! I smell apple fritters.”

“What a coincidence, that’s what I’ve been dreamin’ of too,” replied the mare groggily. The noise woke the rest of the family, who slowly clambered down from the attic and joined the scene.

The two bats continued to search—the mare showing visibly more interest in catching glimpses of Big Mac—but nothing turned up. The stallion wasn’t even trying to hide his impatience anymore. “Okay, playtime’s over, hand over those apples,” he demanded while his tail flicked, kicking up dust.

“Let’s look for them together!” Applejack offered eagerly. “This much talk about apples could make the fullest pony hungry, an’ I’m pretty far from that, myself.”

“Are you trying to make a fool of me?”

Those emerald eyes stared back at him in utter bafflement. “Me? A fool of you? Stars forbid! I only agree with ya, let’s get them secret apples together!”

The stallion groaned in frustration and turned to his partner, who had completely given up on any false pretences of apple hunting and was instead only hunting one particular Apple. “Hey, do you smell any apple musk here?”

The grey coat of the younger officer’s cheeks turned a fiery red. “I, uhm, yes, Sir. Forgive me, Sir.”

It took a moment for the words to have their impact, causing the old bat to hiss in contempt. “Mindless fruit-muncher,” he admonished her, before turning back towards the family one last time. “Don’t get too comfortable, we’ll be back!”

2. Have You the Slightest Clue Who Miss Applejack Even Is?

The day started hard for Applejack, who struggled to fight her grogginess from the lack of sleep. But the trees were more important than such luxuries as enough rest, so she was once again out making rounds with her dog, even if she was a bit slower than usual.

Suddenly Winona began to growl and bark, but as much Applejack strained her eyes, she couldn’t spot any squirrels this time around. No, as she continued to stare in the low morning fog, her eyes slowly settled on the outline of what appeared to be a pony lounging around on a thick sheet. Applejack whistled to the dog and then nodded towards the mysterious figure. Winona needed no more encouragement, blasting off to meet the intruder and convince them to act suspicious somewhere else.

“Oh, hello Winona!” the stranger called out. Her voice sent the dog into awkward silence as faint memories began to emerge in her brain. Her tail slowly began to waggle as the now-distinctly purple pony reached out to scratch behind her ear.

“Hi, Applejack! How’s it going?” Applejack too came to a halt as she stared at the mare in front of her in complete shock.

“By Granny’s fake teeth, Miss Sparkle, is that you?” she replied with noticeable bashfulness and surprise in her voice.

Her question was met with a satisfied chuckle. “Are you really that surprised to see me? Can’t a mare have a bit of leisure time every once in a while?” Twilight asked playfully, pointing at the sheet in front of her, which was full of books—romance novels as far as Applejack could tell, based on the illustrations of mares nuzzling inside. “It’s been ages, I was able to escape the madness of my office.”

“I’ve noticed.” Applejack’s voice was cold. She decided not to question the books, but the situation as a whole didn’t sit well with her. The other mare scooched to the side of the sheet, before beckoning her to take the spot next to her. The farmer trotted closer, but remained standing.

“So, how’s the family? I hope Granny Smith is still kicking strong.”

“She ran off with a Solar rebel, years ago.”

“Oh,” Twilight fell silent for a moment, her eyes flicking to the books then back, unsure how to reply to something like that. “And the others?”

“Bloom and Mac are fine. How are things on your end, Miss Sparkle?”

The mare on the ground stared oddly at Applejack, before beginning to giggle. She rested her head on her hoof. “Are you seriously going to keep calling me ‘Miss Sparkle’?” she asked between two laughs.

Applejack fell into awkward contemplation, unsure how exactly she should have addressed her old friend. “Well, what the hay am I supposed to call Her Majesty’s Royal Advisor then?”

“Pfft, oh Applejack, being the Royal Advisor doesn’t quite live up to the name.” Twilight looked to the side. “Not anymore anyway. Not to mention, you and me… you know…” She cleared her throat. “Long story short, I don’t want to hear a single more ‘Miss Sparkle’ from you.”

The two fell in uneasy silence for a few moments. Then, without warning, Applejack threw herself into Twilight’s hooves, the two laughing and hugging like two fillies in love. They laughed and laughed, not even sure what exactly was so funny.

“You’re an absolute rotten apple, ya know?” Applejack said slyly, nuzzling her friend, while the two were still chuckling a little. “I’ve waited years for you to turn up again! Where have you been, sugarcube?”

Twilight frowned a little. “It’s a real madhouse up there.” She nodded towards Canterlot’s general direction. A long, drawn-out sigh left her lips. “I hardly have the time to even visit my own family, let alone come down here.”

Time flew as the two mares chatted, not as farmer and advisor, but two friends, forgetting about rank and role. The weather, though still cold, began to improve and as the first stronger rays of sunlight made their way through the clouds, Applejack felt a strange nostalgia filling her heart.

“So, how are things in Ponyville?” came the sudden question, throwing her odd feelings to the side.

“I’m… I’m not quite sure, to tell you the truth,” Applejack replied after a second of thinking. She spent most of her time on the farm, having little reason or opportunity to mingle with the town.

“I’ve read that things are going excellently.”

“Where did you read that?”

“In Ponyville’s mood-report,” Twilight replied, with such innocent certitude that Applejack couldn’t help but agree.

“Well, then things must be going excellently,” she finally said with a pinch of uncertainty. In response, she felt Twilight place a hoof on her back and pull her closer.

“Come now, Applejack, don’t be so glum. Things will get better, do you trust me on that?”

A tight knot unfurled itself inside Applejack’s stomach, as she stared into those gentle, warm eyes. “If it’s you saying so, sugarcube, I’d believe that the sky itself were green.” She enjoyed the warmth of her friend for a few more seconds before slowly separating from her. “Welp, I’m mighty sorry, Twilight. Believe me, I’m happier than a dog herding sheep to see you again, but I really need to make sure my trees are alright.”

Twilight closed her books, the metal etchings of mares chasing each other on them glinting treacherously. “Not an issue. Let me accompany you,” she said, and quickly stood up to show her eagerness.

Applejack smiled widely. “Sure, Twi, let’s go.”

Applejack guided the unicorn around the orchard, pointing out the various trees by name and explaining their various quirks and history. She nearly stopped a few times, embarrassed to be going to such lengths about something her friend might not even care about, but each time Twilight encouraged her to continue with a warm smile and a few insightful questions.

It was soon time for Twilight to go, so the duo made their way back to her abandoned reading station. And not a moment too soon, because Twilight herself was slightly shivering from the cold and every once in a while complained that she hadn’t expected the weather to be this frigid today.

As they slowly trotted closer, Twilight suddenly yelped and began galloping. “Oh no, my books!” she yelled. Indeed, her treasured reading materials were being plundered by curious squirrels enticed by their bright colors and shiny decorations.

Twilight struggled to keep up with the critters and every time she tried to grasp one of them with her telekinesis, she was distracted by another.

Applejack spent no time watching her friend struggle, instead she whistled for her dog. Winona, who until now followed the mares quietly, began to loudly bark and chase the pint-sized thieves. The squirrels looked in their direction with panicked eyes and immediately dropped their cargo, scurrying off into the underbrush nearby.

Twilight—still panting from exhaustion, her coat visibly slick with sweat—quickly gathered her belongings with her magic. She was about to say something, when her body was suddenly wracked by an ugly fit of coughs, causing her to drop her books. “Oh, clumsy me,” she groaned, gathering them again. “Well, AJ, it was truly great to see you,” she said, her voice suddenly hoarse. “However, I’m having a meeting soon and I really-really should be go—” Before she could even finish the sentence, she coughed and violently shuddered again.

“No way, Twi.” Applejack’s voice was adamant. She shook her head, then pointed towards the farm. “You’re coming home with me, this instant.”

“But my meeting—”

“No ‘buts’. Come.”

“It’ll be such a mess if I’m late,” she whimpered.

“You’re full of horseapples, Twilight. You can barely stand on your hooves, you won’t be going to any meetings like this. Give those books to me.” Applejack easily wrestled the pile from her friend and stacked it on her back. “There, I’ll carry them for you. Now shut your trap and follow me.”

Despite her friend’s weak protests, the two of them made their way back to the farm. Applejack guided Twilight into the guestroom and put her under warm blankets.

“Please just promise me you’ll never tell anypony, that me of all ponies got knocked off my hooves by a few squirrels,” Twilight’s frail, pleading voice echoed from between the pillows. “I’d die on the spot from shame.”

“Your secret is safe with me, Twi.” Applejack flashed her a warm smile, before turning to Apple Bloom, who was peering through the door with concern written on her face. “Bloom, go get Twilight some tea.”

The poor purple mare was visibly shaking by the time she began to sip the hot beverage. Applejack couldn’t bear the sorry sight, so she gathered all the unused sheets and covers from around the house and stacked them atop her shivering friend.

And yet, even the hot tea, and even all the sheets stacked as tall as a pony weren’t enough to warm her up. Applejack trotted back out into the kitchen.

“Mac,” she leaned close to her brother’s ear. “Be a dear an’ get some life into her, would’ya?”

The stallion shyly looked back at his sister. “Y-Yup,” he gulped, then entered the guestroom, closing the door behind himself quietly.

A few seconds later the shivering inside stopped.

Applejack smiled, considering things a job well-done. Yet, before she could even say a word, she heard knocking from outside once again.

It was the two bats. This time Applejack didn’t greet them, just raised a hoof to her lips. “Shh,” she whispered.

The old constable immediately bared his fangs at her. “What’s with the ‘shh’? Don’t act so casual with me, Miss. I’m really at my patience’s end. Give me the apples, right now,” he almost screamed at the mare.

Applejack winced at the noise. “For the Princess’s sake, be quiet!” she said under her breath. “You’ll disturb the Royal Advisor’s rest.”

“The Royal Advisor?” The stallion almost choked on his breath, as he laughed. His lips contorted into a vile smile. “You have the gall to besmirch Her Majesty’s court? That alone is enough to put you away for years, you know?” he spat.

Applejack glanced back at the door, then at the the officers. Then she stepped out of the way. “Go ahead then,” she said impassively. “Search to your heart’s content.”

They needed no further encouragement. The two guards began to methodically spill the contents of each pot, drawer, and chest they could find, caring little about things breaking or bending. The room was soon filled by loud clattering and banging, as they rifled through utensils, plates, and family heirlooms, tossing them to the side in wild abandon. The stallion was about to leave the kitchen, when the guestroom’s door suddenly began to glow purple before slamming open.

Twilight stepped out from the room, her ears hugging her head and her tail flicking wildly. Her face was contorted into a dangerous scowl, as she scanned the scene in front of her. Behind her, still lying under the sheets Big Mac poked out his head confused, with blushing cheeks and his mane slightly gleaming from sweat.

“What exactly is going on here?” Twilight asked in a low, foreboding voice.

The bats turned towards her, confused at the sight. “And who are you?” the stallion asked.

“Who am I? Who am I?! Have you never seen me before?!” came the indignant reply. Twilight’s voice rose in volume as she continued. “At attention, officer, you’re in the presence of your superior. Give me a report, now!”

The old batpony tipped his head to the side, thinking hard for a second. Then a switch flicked itself inside his brain and the darkness inside was lit by a memory. His eyes went wide and in a second he jumped into attention, giving the mare a salute.

“I report to her Royal Ladyship that we are conducting a search on this house, because we’ve received a report on one earth pony named Applejack, because of strong suspicion of her illegally harvesting apples.”

Applejack gave a humble smile. She didn’t even look towards them before speaking up. “Just feel free to, partner. In this house we abide the law.”

The guards exchanged anxious looks between each other before looking at the two mares, unsure how to proceed from here.

Twilight finally clued them in. “Put everything back into its rightful place this instant,” she barked coldly.

The two ponies began to work, placing the various trinkets and baubles back into their containers. Their quiet groaning and grumbling was like music to Applejack’s ears.

The Royal Advisor, however, didn’t feel like she’d driven the point home enough yet. “Just remember one thing and remember it well,” she addressed them. “Our enemies are numerous enough already, I don’t want to hear you bothering good, honest ponies like the ones living here ever again. To think you’d intrude on Applejack’s humble farm of all places! Sweet Harmony, have you ponies completely lost your minds?”

“B-but the report—”

“Tsk, what report?” Twilight’s face flushed deep red from anger. “Nine reports out of ten are complete crud. What if I reported you for praising the Sun or stealing rations. Do you get it now?”

“Your Royal Ladyship, I, uhm, I do not,” came the uneasy reply. “It was a very serious anonymous report, written with a typewriter.”

That just put the dot on the ‘i’ for Twilight. “Listen. Have you the slightest clue who exactly Miss Applejack even is? What sacrifices this pony and her family made for us?”

Twilight’s horn ignited and she slowly moved the table in the middle of the kitchen to the side. The smile froze on Applejack’s face as she slowly realised what was going on.

“Twi, don’t worry about it,” she attempted to carefully calm her down. Her attempt, however, was futile.

“No, Applejack, I must let these fine guards know who exactly they’ve been heckling until now.” Twilight merely gave her a reassuring smile, before turning back to the bats with the same earth-shattering scowl. She stormed next to the table. “Listen here, you brutes. Just a few years ago this pony here was held against the floor by Solars and threatened with any and all means of coercion so horrid, that whichever methods they teach the likes of you at the Night Guard academy would feel like a light tickle afterwards.

“Why was she threatened like this? To give us up. A few other Lunars and I had been hiding under these very floorboards here in a secret little hole for weeks by then. Her family hid us, fed us, and kept us warm, without expecting anything in return. A single word from her would’ve been enough to guarantee her safety and our fall. One word and yet she kept silent and strong for us.

“It is only thanks to her that we survived and were able to act as assets to our great Princess’s takeover. So you better start feeling some humility, when you look at her. Just watch!” With that her magic enveloped the trapdoor and opened it, motioning the others to look inside.

While the two guards peered into the hole, Twilight triumphantly looked around the room. She caught a glimpse of Applejack sighing and pulling her hat over her eyes. Worry began to stir in her heart. Slowly, very slowly, her gaze passed over to the two bats. They too looked utterly mortified, eyes wide, mouths hanging loose. Twilight took a deep breath and she finally lowered her eyes. The sight of a dozen delicious and deeply illegal apple dishes revealed itself to her. Fritters, pies, jam, anything pony ingenuity could think of filled her vision.

The Royal Advisor felt a cold emptiness fill her. She took a silent step back. “Guards,” she ordered them flatly, looking at nothing in particular. “Do your duty. The law applies to Lunarists a good ten-, even hundredfold as much.” Then she turned back to Applejack. “I’m so sorry, AJ. You have to understand that I really don’t have any choice in the matter.”

Applejack nodded, that she did. “Can I at least say my goodbyes to my little sister and my brother?” she asked. The batpony stallion looked at Twilight, whose venomous glare read as an obvious “yes”, so he nodded.

“Until then we’ll soak these in salt-water,” he declared, nodding towards the basement.

“D-do we have to?” his partner asked, licking her lips, as she stared at the food-art below.

“Yes.” He gulped scornfully. “There wouldn’t be anything left as evidence for the trial otherwise.”

Soon the deed was done and the bountiful harvest was ruined. Applejack hugged Apple Bloom and Big Mac, then allowed her hooves to be cuffed. Twilight looked at her with a broken frown. “I really am very sorry, Applejack.”

“Don’t worry about it, Twi. It happens to the best of us.” She shrugged a little. “Now be good you two.”

Having said her final goodbye, Applejack allowed herself to be led away.

3. There Were No Apples, There Were Never Any Apples

Applejack had never been to prison before. The way her hoofsteps clacked against the floor and echoed off the dim stone walls sounded unnatural to her, while the tightness of the corridors along with the lack of sky above and grass below felt almost suffocating. Trotting between two guards, she passed cell after cell filled with ponies of varying age and destitution.

Finally the guard at the front came to a halt and turned towards one of the heavy metal gates. “Here,” he stated flatly, opening it with a big key. Applejack trotted inside the dark cell, her head still spinning a little from the change.

The door slammed behind her with a deafening thud.

“Oh my! Look brother, a familiar face!” a voice as memorable as it was angering cut through the ringing of her ears.

“Well, stick wings on me and call me an alicorn, if it isn’t Applejack!” another replied, sounding just as loathsome.

As Applejack’s eyes slowly adapted to the gloom inside, she noticed the two lanky unicorns standing next to the cell’s double-bunk bed. Even without their trademark outfits Applejack immediately recognized them by their pale cream coats and audacious white-red manes—not to mention those loathsome smirks plastered on their faces. Small rings, adorned with angry-red gemstones, were attached to the bases of their horns, sapping their magic away.

Without saying a word she stormed closer to the two, who suddenly lost their joviality. They backed towards the wall, until their backs bumped against it. “Flim an’ Flam, how mighty nice to see you again!” Applejack stated in grim delight. She took off her hat and slowly traced a long, mostly-healed scar at the base of her right ear. “You see this scar right here? Or would ya rather take a closer look?”

“T-that won’t be necessary,” Flim balked, holding up his hooves. “It healed very nicely!” doubled down Flam, his voice wavering from fear. “D-did we cause this?” the two asked together innocently.

“You can bet your sweetest apples, you did,” came the calm answer. “Don’tcha play cute with me, I know full well you two had your eyes on my farm an’ that ya tipped off those Solars about our stockpiles back then. They took all our food an’ left me this mark, sugarcubes, so I really hope y’all don’t mind if I start collectin’ some debts.” With that she planted her hooves to the floor, ready to turn around and buck a few teeth out.

“Wait, dear Applejack!”, “Let’s not get too hasty, please!”, “Isn’t it punishment enough that we’re stuck here for years?”, “How are we supposed to make a decent living without teeth?” The brothers collapsed to the floor as they spoke over each other.

“Hmph, how many years exactly?” Applejack asked, her body still primed to kick.

“Six, both of us!” Flim and Flam stared at her with begging eyes, cowering under their hooves.

Applejack contemplated their words for a moment, then stood up and stepped back a little. “Fine, I’m in no hurry. But once those six years are up, you two immediately report to me. Maybe y’all will learn some decency workin’ the orchard.”

The two stallions immediately regained their spring. Like one pony they slipped out and sat down on the bed. They put their hooves behind their heads and leaned back.

“Equestria really isn’t like in the good old days,” Flim mused. “Yeah, what’s the world supposed to do without entrepreneurs like us?” his brother agreed.

Applejack scoffed. “The world does just fine without you two goodponies,” she replied. “Just look at me. Yesterday I illegally harvested an apple tree, today I’m here. Express work, I tell ya. These Lunar cops aren’t half-bad.”

Before the brothers could reply, the cell door opened again and a cream mare was led inside. Applejack noticed the mark of a sunflower on her flank and the fact that the mare seemed to be in surprisingly high spirits despite her situation.

“So, Blind, confessed to the wrongness of your ways yet?” Flam asked the new arrival with a smirk. She shook her head, still smiling, completely unaffected by his heckling. Then she noticed Applejack and turned towards her.

“Oh Radiance, a new face! Greetings, Sister,” she said, bowing a little. Her voice was solemn yet chipper. “I am Blind Devotion, follower of the Unconquered Sun.” The two stallions giggled at the word “unconquered”, but Blind paid them no heed. Instead she continued, “What are you in for? Are you one of us?”

Before Applejack could have answered, Flim interjected. “Don’t get your hopes up, she’s just here for a mundane offence. Apple harvesting.”

“Nothing is mundane these days, Brother,” Blind replied with slight coldness in her voice, before turning back to Applejack wearing her usual smile. She took a good look at her from head to hoof. “Nothing’s mundane at all. I’ll pray for our Radiant Princess’s aid on you.”

Days passed and Applejack was finally allowed to talk to her family. She was led to the small meeting room, which was separated into two halves in the middle by reinforced bars. A small uncomfortable-looking seat was placed next to the bars. Applejack clambered onto it and began to wait.

Minutes passed in silence, broken only by the monotonous ticking of the clock on the wall. Applejack was about to turn and ask the guard what was going on, when the lock of the door on the opposite end of the room rattled and two new arrivals were let inside.

Apple Bloom and Big Mac stared back at their sister with pity mixed with relief.

Nopony said a word for a while. Finally Applejack broke the uneasy quiet. “So, uh, how are things at home?”

“Things are fine, Sis,” Apple Bloom replied quickly.

“What about the trees? Are they well?” Applejack’s question rang with great concern.

“Yup,” insightfully explained Big Mac, with a small smile and nod.

Applejack leaned closer to the bars as she whispered, “And Bloomberg?”

“Don’t worry, Sis. They let us keep him. We just aren’t allowed to keep him a secret anymore. Or eat his apples.” Apple Bloom’s voice was tinted with sadness.

Applejack nodded grimly. As she took a better look of the filly, she noticed various light bruises and scrapes on her. She furrowed her brows.

“Bloomie, I think you’re spending time away from the farm again with those other fillies.” The accusation didn’t hold too much edge, it came almost matter-of-factly.

“Naw, I don’t,” Apple Bloom answered looking everywhere but her sister’s eyes.

Applejack smiled a little and rolled her eyes. “Fine, if you say so. Just don’t get too bruised out there, please.”

“Don’t worry, Sis. I’ll be careful,” came the reassuring answer.

The heartwarming moment didn’t last long and the smile wilted from Applejack’s face. “Right. Did you two talk to those no-good lawponies? How much am I gonna get?”

Both Apple Bloom and Big Mac tensed up at the question a little. They looked at each other, then back at her, their eyes voting who would share the news. Big Mac lost the battle of stares and so he was the one who spoke. “Guess what Applejack, Miss Sparkle sent us some extra bits to make do while you’re here and she promised herself to visit you once she finds the time. Yup,” he added with an unnaturally wide smile.

“How darn nice of her. See folks, she really is a true friend.” Applejack nodded. Then she raised an eyebrow and repeated the question, this time with a bit more emphasis. “An’ the lawponies?”

In the span of a few moments Big Mac collapsed into himself. His ears flopped down and he stared at the floor. He awkwardly pawed the stones. “He, uhm, he said he’ll do everything in his power.”

“How. Much.” Despite Applejack’s best attempts, the irritation shone through her voice.

“It depends…” Mac stammered.

“Maybe we’ll just get a fine,” chimed in Apple Bloom.

Mac looked at her disapprovingly before taking a deep breath and forcing himself to look into his sister’s eyes. “But more likely the court will go for the harshest option. That is, um—” he paused for a second, unwilling to say the word “—exile. It all comes down to whether they want to make an example of you.”

Applejack felt herself stumble backwards, as she fell off the chair and landed on her haunches. For a few seconds she just focused on herself breathing in, then breathing out. “E-Exile?” This time she was the one who stammered, only she did so from the floor. Slowly, she clambered to her hooves and pressed them against the bars. “Ya can’t be serious, Mac. For a few rotten apples they’re goin’ to send me away?”

“It’s all about making an example.” Big Mac’s attempts at reassurance failed to convince even himself.

Applejack felt nauseous, but she knew she had to get the full picture.

“Uh-huh,” she finally pushed out. “And what else did he say?”

“That you shouldn’t be surprised if he himself asks for the harshest punishment possible.”

Applejack’s stomach, which until now was making sommersaults, finally dropped like dead weight. “My own defender?” she asked in complete outraged shock.

“Yup.” Big Mac became more and more flustered as he spoke. “Because if you were a Solar rebel or something, there’s a lot of those right now, but because you’re a Lunar and he had some old accusations on his head… It all comes down to Lunar law—”

Before he could continue his rambling, Applejack held up a hoof to silence him. “What’s with the law? Just think this through, Mac. I really need to know what’s goin’ on.”

Big Mac spent the next few seconds in quiet contemplation. “The point is making an example,” he finally declared. “And that you should try to relax.”

“Try to relax?” Applejack whimpered as she reached her breaking point. She felt the blood leave her face. Suddenly the room shrunk to a tenth its size and she felt like she was being pressed from all directions. She began to hear her own heartbeat, hammering faster and faster.

Images from her life began to flash before her eyes.

The pride she felt upon harvesting the first apple in her life and understanding her calling. The comfort of the tales Granny told her while she was snuggled up in bed as a filly.

The fear she felt for her family’s safety when the first news of the Lunars reached the Acres. The relief of Big Mac being too young for the draft. The desperation of those hot and dry years during the war, that her family only survived through sheer tenacity and stubbornness. The slow realisation that the Sun Princess didn’t seem to truly have their best interest at heart and perhaps these “Moon-fanatics” weren’t as crazy as she was told.

The confusing whirlwind in her heart when she first laid eyes upon Twilight and realised she was one of the “enemy”. The hot tears of the arguments she had with Granny over helping Twilight and her friends. How the pain of the beatings she received from the Solar patrol while they tried to force her to give up the Lunars she hid was dwarfed by her own grandmother’s betrayal when she left with those same marauders.

The outrage of the new Lunar government demanding nearly all fruits produced at the Acres. The anxiety of stashing Bloomberg below the kitchen. That same whirlwind of finding and losing Twilight again.

And now, after remaining loyal despite all this pain and hurt, she was to be made into an example? It was too much. It was far too much. Her vision began to darken.

“How are things in there, by the way?” Apple Bloom’s voice suddenly cut through her panic.

Close your eyes. Breathe in. Hold it. Breathe out… Just like Granny taught you. Good… Now eyes open.

It took a truly gargantuan amount of effort not to crumple into a pile on the floor, but, with legs wobbling and heart pounding, Applejack remained standing. “Things are just fine, sugarcube.” She forced herself to smile for Bloom’s sake, as her breath almost hitched. “Don’tcha worry about me.” She cleared her throat, buying herself a few seconds to fight off the darkness that once again tried to collapse on her. It was clear to her that it was a losing battle and she was merely prolonging the inevitable.

She had to leave.

“I think I should go,” she muttered, deaf to the faint pleas of her siblings. She began trotting towards the guard, but still something was pushing on her conscience harder than even her failing constitution. She stopped in place and turned around. “Make sure the trees are healthy and the harvest happens in time. I… probably won’t be around to do so,” she heard herself say.

With that, she stumbled back to her cell.

She hardly even stepped inside, when she was immediately received by Flim and Flam. “So, Applejack, is the Lunar system still in its place?” Flim asked with a gleeful smile.

“Are you two really itching that hard to lose all of your teeth this worm-stricken moment?” she growled, roughly shoving the two swindlers to the side. With heavy steps she plopped down on the bed. The two didn’t take the less than subtle hint and immediately sat at her sides.

“Come now, Applejack. We’re all Equestrians here, we should cherish each other,” Flim cooed.

“Indeed! Believe us, we aren’t your enemies, nor Her Majesty’s,” Flam continued, leaning closer to the mare. “We know well you have some good friends up high. Wouldn’t you put in a few good words for us?”

Applejack had enough of their sweet-talk. “If you don’t shut your traps this instant, I’ll make sure y’all won’t talk to anypony for a long time myself.” She pushed herself off the bed and walked to the other side of the room, where Blind Devotion was lying on the floor with her eyes closed in deep meditation.

As Applejack stormed next to her, Blind stirred from her trance. “Sister, you seem somewhat bothered,” she said, blinking heavily as she stared up at the fuming, dishevelled mare.

“I might be a tad upset, yes,” Applejack admitted.

“If you wish, I could introduce you to certain relief,” the other mare offered.

“Look, I’m mighty grateful, but autumn is upon us an’ I fear my trees will fall sick. Meanwhile they are planning to exile me.” She hung her head.

Blind frowned in sympathy, before placing a hoof on Applejack’s back. “I understand the crushing weight you bear, Sister. We all are tested time and time again. Just place your trust in our Radiant Princess.”

Applejack gently removed it. “Oh, I trust in a Princess, just maybe not the Radiant one.” A heavy sigh left her lips and she tipped her hat straight. “Welp, no use giving the mice a drink.” She sniffed a little, then wiped her tears. “I might as well face things as they come. Not like I can do much else.” She turned towards Blind. “The only thing worse than getting bad news is getting bad news on an empty stomach, an’ all this mess made me hungrier than a pig after a two mile chase. Do ya know what’s for lunch?”

“A moment, Sister.” Blind trotted to the far wall and gently tapped on it. Soon her taps were answered by quiet knocks from the other side. After a few moments of concentration, she turned towards the room with a sour expression. “Dry oats.”

“Dry oats, again,” Applejack repeated bitterly. “If they at least mixed it with a bit of sweet water.”

“See, back in the Solar days even the food was better!” Flam said triumphantly.

His careless words merely evoked Applejack’s ire. “You two better be very quiet right now.” He yelped a little as the mare turned towards him, staring daggers. Applejack pointed towards her scar. “I’ve eaten your sort of food.”

But before he could have faced her full wrath, a key turned in the cell’s door and a bat guard entered.

“Prisoner Applejack,” he called.

The addressed mare took a deep breath, her cheeks still a little red from anger, then stepped forward. “Present.”

“You’re coming with me. Bring all your belongings.”

“So… Exile?” she asked flatly, but the guard gave no answer.

As she prepared herself, the others looked at her with genuine pity. Even the two brothers learned a bit of respectful silence.

“I could still induct you into our Radiant Order, if you wish,” Blind offered eagerly. “It’d take just a minute!”

“No, thank you,” Applejack replied sharply, then followed the guard outside.

The two of them walked for quite some time, from one stone-paved corridor to the next, ascending one staircase, then descending another, but to Applejack’s complete surprise, she wasn’t led to a carriage that would forsake her forever, but rather to the forepony’s office.

“Congratulations, Applejack. You’re free!” he greeted the mare.

“Free?” Applejack repeated the word, completely nonplussed. She expected many things from this occurrence, but not this.

“As a bird.” The forepony, a fat dirty-blue unicorn, eagerly shook her hoof. “Congratulations, again.”

But the mare remained unconvinced.

“But what of the apples?”

“What apples?” he asked, tipping his head to the side in confusion.

“You know, Bloomberg’s.” Applejack’s tone was unmistakable.

“There were no apples,” he said quickly. “There were never any apples. It was all a clerical error. You’re as innocent as a newborn foal. All accusations were dropped.”

“I really don’t get it.” The mare scratched her chin. “I really did harvest a bucketful of apples, an’ made them into pastries for my family. That’s why I’m here in the first place, ya see. Doesn’t that make me not innocent?”

“No, you didn’t do any of that.” The smile on the forepony’s face slowly turned forced. “I won’t argue it! You’re free and that’s that.” He lowered his voice. “Higher orders, you see.”

“Uh-huh. I get it… That is, I don’t get it at all. I’m really not good at these ideological things.” She blinked a few times, still dazed, but as she came to terms with the situation, she suddenly felt reinvigorated and continued in a far more chipper tone. “Either way, thank ya kindly for everything. Except for the food, that could be quite a bit better.” She leaned closer to his ears. “Do try to improve it a bit, please. Don’t let all them Solars keep laughin’ into their hooves about Her Majesty’s prison bein’ so poor that it serves dry oats all day. Sure, it’s not like food is that much better outside, but at least we’re aware of our shortcomings.”

5. The Intercreatural Situation Is Intensifying

It was late in the night. Applejack was enjoying resting in her own bed again, lulled to sleep by the familiar song the wind sang to her as it rushed past the orchard. She had just lazily turned to her other side and scratched her flank, when suddenly the sounds of Winona’s barks rang through the air and dispelled her lull.

The farmpony groaned as she climbed out of the bed. She rubbed her eyes and half-unconsciously stumbled down the stairs to check the cause of the commotion outside. It took her a bit of effort to find matches in the half-gloom, but finally she was able to light a small lantern. She winced from the sudden light, her eyes complaining from the unnatural brightness.

Applejack blinked a few times and once she felt like she could see properly again, she opened the door leading outside. As she peered into the darkness beyond, her lamp revealed two dark-coated unicorns standing on the porch. Applejack had never seen them before. Her eye flicked to their chests, but to her surprise there was no Moon sigil adorning them. They stared at Applejack intently, though their faces remained impassive.

Winona stood near them, her tail and ears pulled in. She growled and yapped helplessly at the intruders, occasionally taking a step closer, then jumping back. When she saw the door open, she darted inside the house.

“Are you Applejack?” asked one of the unicorns, his deep voice as unreadable as his face.

“Yup,” she answered, suppressing a yawn. “What can I do ya two for?”

“You’re coming with us.” There was no urgency in the voice, nor any particular emotion, but something told Applejack the situation was non-negotiable.

She couldn’t help but shake her head lightly and chuckle. “So, there were apples after all?” she asked, nodding towards the kitchen.

The other two didn’t reply. “It just doesn’t fit into my head.” She sniffed. “Why did you lot even let me out in the first place then? I was just about to get used to my cell.”

The unicorns continued to stare at her, without as much as flicking an ear.

Applejack’s inner flame snuffed out just as suddenly as it had lit and her shoulders slumped. “Fine. Can I at least say goodbye to my family?”

Still no reply. Applejack waited a few seconds for approval, but when it didn’t come she shrugged and went back inside, taking the lantern with herself and bathing the two in darkness again. She crept into her sister’s room and planted a kiss on Apple Bloom’s forehead, who smiled in her sleep, but didn’t wake. Then she slunk out just as quietly and entered the other room, giving a gentle hug to her brother. Finally, she trotted back to the door, passing Winona on the way out. The dog whined quietly as she sensed the tenseness in Applejack’s steps, but as the farmpony gave her a few scratches behind her ear, she slowly relaxed and splayed herself out on the carpet.

The door closed behind her with a soft click. Applejack was outside.

Wordlessly, the two unicorns turned around and began to trot towards the darkness. Applejack followed them. While they walked she glanced back for a second, looking at the farmhouse dimly illuminated by the moonlight one more time. A tangled knot formed in her belly as her home slowly shrank behind them. She closed her eyes and looked forwards. The less she thought about this the easier it’d be, she reassured herself.

After a few minutes they arrived at a black carriage. Applejack hardly even noticed the vehicle at first, it blended so well into the night. Two pegasi stood in front of them, waiting for their arrival.

One of the unicorns stepped next to the carriage’s door and opened it. He nodded towards the seat inside, and so Applejack climbed in and sat down. The others took the seats on her sides. Without warning, one of them reached out with his magic and tied a cloth around her eyes.

Applejack’s stomach clamped down on the knot, as even the little light she previously had was snuffed out. For a moment she considered removing the blindfold. Her hooves weren’t bound, after all… but then her captors didn’t seem like the forgetful sort.

No, upon second thought, she realised they probably didn’t need to.

Applejack sighed and let go of her rebellious idea. Causing a scene would only hurt her chances, so she might as well conserve her energy and see this through.

The carriage lurched forwards and took off, soaring through the air. It made wide left and right turns, causing Applejack to occasionally bump into her silent captors.

“Where are we going?” No reply.

A few seconds or maybe minutes passed—it was hard to tell—and she finally worked up the courage to speak again. “Are you exiling me after all?” she asked, lowering her voice to a near-whisper.

Stubborn silence. Feeling like she was as good as done, an odd sense of liberating joy filled Applejack. The knot slowly unfurled and she suddenly began to feel much lighter. Even if it was a terrible idea, she couldn’t help but continue talking. “Just tell me, honestly. I really hate surprises. It’s not like knowin’ would change anything. We all eventually get what’s coming,” she mused, before chuckling a little. “You too folks, you’ll see.”

When even this left them unfazed, she became a bit ticked off. “Are your throats plugged with apples or what?”

Absolutely nothing. Applejack rolled her still-covered eyes. She gave up trying.

A little while later the carriage finally arrived. Before she was allowed to get out, the cloth was finally removed from her eyes. Applejack clambered off the carriage and glanced around, raising a hoof in front of her and blinking blearily from the sudden light. As far as she could tell, they were in Canterlot, though she had no idea where exactly. The only thing she knew was that she was standing in the front garden of a marble house that looked just like all the others around it.

One of her captors nodded towards the door. Applejack understood the order. While she stepped up to the door—feeling like it was now or never—she turned around. “Well, folks, it was an apple-buckin’ delight meeting you two. But remember, not a word about this,” she said with a wink and a smile, before walking inside.

Behind the door she found herself in a barren, dirty-white corridor, filled with little more than dust and the occasional flickering oil lamp to guide her deeper inside. Every once in a while a door interrupted the monotonousness of the wall, but every one of them was either padlocked or had its knob missing, and one of them was even bricked up. Applejack gulped a little as she trotted ever forwards, the tinges of anxiety gathering in her stomach once more.

At the end of the corridor there was a heavy, double-winged door made from dark wood. What’s more, unlike the rest of them, it even had a handle. Seeing no other choice, Applejack grabbed it and twisted. To her surprise, the door was unlocked. Though it took the mare quite a bit of effort, she slowly but surely managed to push it open.

The room that opened up in front of her was completely unlike everything she had seen in that building or anywhere else so far.

Its trinket-filled walls were painted a mix of cheerful pink, white, and brown. Kitchen appliances of various shapes and forms—spatulas, bowls, whisks, among many other things—were strewn around, along with bright furniture that someone had tied balloons to, and books about cooking with several colourful bookmarks hanging out of them. A giant chandelier illuminated the room, its cast iron arms made colourful by streamers haphazardly thrown all over them. A large grandfather clock ticked on to itself in the back, similarly messy from the onslaught of streamers. The only thing that could have been called tidy was the large table dominating the middle of the room with chairs around it for ten ponies.

Applejack trotted deeper inside and her hoof nearly slipped on some strewn-around confetti. She shook off the colourful paper stuck to her leg and blinked a few times. “What the hay?” she muttered to herself in quiet incredulity, suddenly wondering if she fell into delirium. But no, everything pointed towards her perceiving the truth.

As far as Applejack could tell she was alone in the room. At first this reassured her, but despite the cheerful decor, the near-silence, the foreboding ticking, and the sheer weirdness of the situation slowly drove her to feel more than a bit on the edge. “Uhm, hello?” she called out, her voice ringing abnormally loud in the quiet, despite how much it wavered.

The furthest wall from the door was covered by a huge painting which reached to the bottom of the floor. It depicted Nightmare Moon staring into the distance as she sat in the tallest tower of Castle Canterlot, while the Moon rose behind her. As Applejack stared at the painting, suddenly a door opened between the alicorn’s armor-covered legs and a mare stepped through the hidden entrance.

In many ways she reflected the state of the room. Her pink coat shone in the light of the chandelier and her absolute mess of a pinker-than-pink mane bounced around, as if it was made from cotton candy. Her piercing blue eyes stared intently at Applejack, while a huge smile spread on her face.

“Oh, hello Applejack!” the newcomer greeted her in a chipper tone, like one would an old friend. “It’s so very good to see you!”

Applejack felt a bit awkward. Was she supposed to know this mare? “Uhm, howdy. Forgive my bad memory, but do I know you?”

The pink mare didn’t seem offended in the slightest. “Of course not, silly! We’ve never met. But I know everything about you!” She dragged out those last few words, her bright smile undermining the weight of the sentence. “Say, do you feel any hungry? ‘Cuz I just had the greatest idea, we could have dinner together!”

“Well, I’ve eaten, but I could always eat a bit more,” Applejack replied politely to the great delight of her host.

“Okie-dokie-lokie!” the pink mare yelled and she motioned for Applejack to sit down. After making sure Applejack was sitting comfortably, she produced a small trumpet from her mane and blew into it.

The noise of things banging together and the clattering of pots and various other items from behind the wall answered her call. Moments later another mare entered the room through the hidden door. She was wearing a dim blue dress, which covered the entirety of her dark grey body and was fastened with a black rope around her barrel. Her silence and stoic face were the polar opposite of the pink mare.

“Yes, Pinkie?” she asked just as flatly as her appearance suggested.

“Heya, Maud!” Pinkie greeted her back. “Pretty please bring our guest something sweet.”

“Okay.” With that Maud disappeared behind the door again.

Without taking her eyes off Applejack, Pinkie trotted over to the table. There she produced a few candlesticks and a box of matches seemingly out of nowhere and placed a couple of lit candles on the table.

“Ah, just like those sweet Hearth’s Warming Eves of our fillyhoods, isn’t that right?” she asked, lost in watching the flames.

Applejack nodded nervously, still unsure what this was all about. Suddenly Pinkie turned towards her. “Say, Applejack, ya like drinks?”

“I suppose I don’t mind the occasional cider. Not that I’ve had the opportunity for a while,” she admitted with the slightest hint of sourness in her voice.

“Excellent!” Pinkie skipped to a cabinet to the side of the room and opened it. On par with the room itself, it was filled with balloons, clown noses, fake flowers, diving gear, oversized glasses, more confetti, and even had a conspicuous-looking cannon sitting at the bottom. However, one of the shelves had a small barrel of cider on it with two mugs. The mare filled both of them and passed one to Applejack. “Enjoy!” she said with genuine glee, then immediately began gulping down the drink.

Applejack looked at the golden-yellow brew for a moment, then at the cheerfully drinking pony in front of her and shrugged. She put the tip of her tongue into the mug and her senses were immediately overwhelmed by the sweet taste of apples. She tipped the mug backwards and emptied it in three fell gulps, nearly at the same moment the mystery mare too finished her own portion. Both sighed contently, then Pinkie turned towards Applejack again. “You look great, by the way. Very healthy!”

“Thank you.” Applejack still felt a bit flustered, but the drink was quickly doing its job. “Workin’ in the orchard is good for one’s health. You look good too, Miss… Beg pardon, I don’t think I’ve caught your full name.”

“I’m Pinkie Pie! Nice to finally meet’cha!” Pinkie enthusiastically shook her hooves a few too many times.

“My pleasure, Miss Pie.” Applejack replied once she was able to regain control of her limbs.

In that moment Maud appeared again and placed a great plate in front of Applejack, covered by a lid. “Enjoy,” she said flatly, before nodding towards Pinkie and backing out of the room.

“Well, Applejack, here you go.” Pinkie removed the lid from the tray.

Applejack couldn’t believe her eyes. In front of her, served on a literal silver platter, sat a gorgeous, ripe, red apple. Its polished surface gleamed from the light of the candles and the chandelier above and practically begged somepony, anypony to take a bite. While her mouth swallowed the drool that gathered from the sight, she looked away abashedly.

“What’cha waiting for? Go ahead,” Pinkie urged her. “Apples are pretty tasty, aren’t they, Applejack?”

Applejack froze in place, then lowered her head into her hooves. The warmness she began to feel from the cider left her in a moment. A dry sigh escaped her lips.

“I… I understand what you mean. I’ll confess. Everything,” she muttered quietly. “I did harvest an apple tree an’ make jam out of it… an’ many other things.” Her voice slowly rose, as she began pleading. “But it was only me! Bloom an’ Mac had no idea. They really had no hoof in this. Please, Miss Pie, I—”

“Oh, pssht,” Pinkie interrupted her. Applejack slowly looked up. Unlike what she expected, the smile on the pink pony’s face in front of her seemed to only grow larger. “I didn’t ask you to confess anything, silly. Maybe there was jam, maybe there wasn’t, let’s not get a tangle in our tummies from such details. We know everything anyways.” Her eyes seemed to almost flash, as she said that. “What matters right now is that yummy apple in front of you.” She tapped the plate a few times. “Come on, just dig in.”

“But I—”

“No, no. I insist.” Pinkie practically bounced in giddiness with that last word. Applejack looked at her, then the apple, then at her again, then her stomach rumbled and she shrugged.

“Well, thank ya kindly then.” She reached out, but then, with gargantuan effort, pulled her hoof back. “Don’t you want some too? I’d feel mighty rotten to eat all this alone.”

“Oh, only sweets for me. My stomach’s been weak for years, you know,” Pinkie explained with a weak smile, patting her belly gently for emphasis. She then turned to the cupboard and refilled the two mugs, before walking over to Applejack. She swiveled the sweet drink in her mug for a moment, before raising her eyes and staring deeply into Applejack’s. The smile disappeared from her face. “You know, one day, Applejack, we will ask something of you.”

“Huh. Well, I’m here now, so go ahead,” Applejack replied between two bites, not feeling the momentousness of the occasion. “Just ask.”

In a flash, her solemn expression broke and Pinkie burst into a snort. “Not right now, silly!” She giggled into her free hoof, then took a swig of her drink. “But hey, that gave me an idea! Would you mind if I popped in one day at the farm for lunch?”

Applejack’s eyebrows shot up. “At my farm?”

“Yup! You and I are both old timers. It was about time we had a real party.”

Applejack swallowed. “I, uhm, I really don’t know, Miss Pie. I couldn’t exactly give ya a dinner like this,” she pointed towards the half-decimated remains of the apple in front of her.

Pinkie just waved. “Ah, that’s okay. We don’t have to stuff our faces all the time to have a good time, do we?” Then, just as abruptly, her eyes unfocused and she stared past the farmer. “Just remember one thing, Applejack,” she said quietly. “The intercreatural situation is intensifying.”

“Intensifying, huh?” Applejack echoed understandingly between two bites, focusing on the juices flowing freely between her cheeks. “Good to know.”

Pinkie leaned even closer to her, almost uncomfortably close. “Never-ever-ever forget this,” she whispered. For a moment it seemed to Applejack like Pinkie’s cloud-like mane suddenly began to flatten and fall.

“I’m sure I won’t,” Applejack’s voice hitched as she promised, but with that the spell was over. Pinkie was back to her normal self.

“I’m so happy to hear,” she clapped her hooves together and, just like that, the dinner was over. Pinkie walked Applejack outside, saying her tearful goodbyes from the door. “Thanks for dropping by! I’ll see you real soon!”

Applejack waved, then stumbled inside the carriage, surrounded by the two grim unicorns. By then the cider had gone to her head a little. She hiccuped. “So, colts, either of you considered a career in holding speeches yet?” she asked, her speech slurred, but they remained just as silent as before.

The soft rocking of the carriage, the silence of the other passengers, the cider and apple in her belly, and the lack of rest had an immediate effect on the mare. As they flew through the starlit night, she slowly drifted off to sleep and began to snore.

6. We Will Ask Something Of You...

The next day started unusually-usual for Applejack. There were no black chariots visiting her at night, no unexpected raids by the police, no fear of her hidden stash being discovered… What’s more, she didn’t even need to spend her night with a pony who could only ever blabber about the Sun, nor two others who would sell the very air she was breathing to her before scamming it right out of her lungs again.

It felt almost weird to walk through the orchard once more, scaring off a few squirrels, making sure every tree was alright and that her cherished sign was still intact. She even walked past the spot where she had met Twilight again. Seeing it filled her with a strange nostalgia she felt with her friend, along with an inexplicable feeling of guilt. Maybe if she hadn’t lead her home, Twilight wouldn’t have disappeared like that.

Applejack shook her head. Twilight had been sick and in need of immediate help. Still, the situation wouldn’t leave her be, especially after all the things that happened recently…

She mulled this over for the next few hours, her attention divided between her trees and the past. It was late in the afternoon by the time she began trotting home.

That was when things turned back to the usually unusual.

In front of the farm, surrounded by two familiar burly unicorn stallions, nopony else but Pinkie Pie was waiting for her.

“Hello again!” Pinkie threw herself at Applejack and gave her a very tight hug. “Told ya I’d pop in. I hope you don’t mind that I brought along a few friends.”

Applejack awkwardly returned the hug, her surprise at seeing Pinkie again so soon completely dwarfed by the discomfort she felt from the pressure. “Howdy, Miss Pie,” she groaned under the mare’s vice-grasp. When she was finally let go, she collapsed to the ground for a second, gasping for air. Her eyes flicked over to the hulking guards. “No, it’s no problem at all,” she heaved.

Pinkie didn’t seem to realise the amount of destruction she was capable of, as she turned away from Applejack and began to survey the rows upon rows of trees surrounding the farmhouse. “Sooo, I’m really eager to see how you spend your days. Why don’tcha show me around?” she asked enthusiastically. “Of course, if that’s not an issue.”

Applejack looked at her, then at the stallions behind her, then at her own sore, aching legs and crushed barrel. “Of course not,” she replied with a wide smile, one she hoped was convincing enough.

Apparently it was. “Woohoo! Let’s go!” The pink menace bounced past her. Applejack took a deep breath and realigned her hat—and insides—before following after her towards the orchard.

Pinkie put Winona to shame with her energy, easily outbouncing the dog who stared with open suspicion at the new arrivals. Pinkie didn’t mind Winona, much heed her, as she pranced between the rows, occasionally gawking at the trees or becoming distracted by a squirrel. “Beautiful,” she said, voice full of awe. “Simply beautiful.”

“I guess it is,” Applejack replied humbly, though she had to admit the words made her feel very warm inside. The stallions meanwhile followed a few steps behind, not paying any particular attention to the trees or anything, opting to simply stare forwards vacantly.

As they continued deeper into the orchard, the small group eventually came across Applejack’s sign. Pinkie froze, staring at it with her mouth agape.

“‘Long live our Great Princess’,” she articulated each word aloud. She turned to Applejack and asked, “Who made this?”

“I did,” Applejack replied, putting a hoof behind her head, her cheeks suddenly flushing.

Pinkie’s mouth slowly morphed into a great O. “Applejack—” She sniffed from the sentimentality and turned to spend a few more seconds staring at the sign “—you’re simply the best.” She turned back to face the farmpony, her eyes glinting with tears. “One day,” she said solemnly, “we will ask something of you.”

“Do ask already,” Applejack encouraged her, while Pinkie wiped her tears away.

“No, no. All in due time,” Pinkie chastised her playfully with a boop on the nose. Then, as if by order, her stomach grumbled. “Say, I got quite peckish. What can a pony eat around here?”

“Uh.” Applejack scratched her scar, mulling the question over a few times, each time coming to the same slightly embarrassing conclusion. “I’m mighty sorry, but I don’t suppose we have much more than hay an’ some greens.”

“Hay and greens,” Pinkie repeated approvingly and licked her lips. “That sounds perfect.”

Applejack led the group back to the farm and invited them into the kitchen. She sat the guests around the table and, since Apple Bloom was away again somewhere, she called Big Mac for help. The stallion blinked wide at the unexpected guests but said nothing. Soon the kitchen grew loud from the sounds of cooking and preparation.

The two Apples put all of their skill into the food and—unlike during their usual filling but very dull meals—the air was instead filled by the savoury smell of baked vegetables and freshly cooked hay.

Despite her weak stomach, Pinkie looked with pride at the steaming meal placed in front of her. Without even bothering to use her hooves, let alone utensils, she threw herself at the food and bit into the carrots stacked on her plate. After decimating the greens, she raised her head again, swallowed loudly and turned to Applejack who was sitting next to her. “Mm-hmm! Abso-lutely delicious!” She patted her belly. “You know, Applejack, I’m starting to feel envious of you.”

Applejack took the compliment with a genuine smile. Even with all that was going on, praise like this was never a bad thing to get.

The ponies continued to eat in silence. Pinkie suddenly leaned closer to Applejack and pointed at one of the doors. “That’s your guestroom, right?” she asked in a hushed, conspiring tone.

“Yup,” came the surprised answer. As far as Applejack knew, this was the first time that Pinkie had stepped into her home.

“And it was last occupied about, hmm… two weeks or so ago, right?” Pinkie asked again with half her mouth full, as she lazily munched on a piece of potato. Big Mac suddenly choked on his food and excused himself curtly before rushing out from the room.

“Uhm, that’s right. An old friend stayed there, Twilight Sparkle.” Applejack’s confusion only grew as she answered again.

Pinkie’s eyes flicked over to the two stallions, who, unlike their previous stoic attitude, suddenly looked very interested.

“She hid in there, correct?” Pinkie intoned.

Applejack hummed. “Well, I’d more say that I hid her there from the cold, before she could catch something nasty. But—” she dragged out the word, her eyes flicking towards the unicorns before looking back at Pinkie “—beg pardon, Miss Pie, how do you know all this?”

“Aw, don’tcha worry about all that.” Pinkie haphazardly waved a hoof in front of her face with a knowing smile. “Y’know, whether we’re baking apple pies or eating salted hay, the intercreatural situation just keeps intensifying.”

Applejack wasn’t sure how to reply to that, so she simply nodded. Pinkie had no further questions and Applejack didn’t quite feel like talking about anything with the two stallion staring at her like statues, so the dinner continued in silence. Then, out of the blue, a huge crash shook the room.

Before Applejack could even move an ear, Pinkie and her stallions threw themselves under the table. The two unicorns began to blast combat spells all over the room in a craze, their blind-firing magic breaking vases and singeing cupboards.

The onslaught went on for nearly a minute, before one of the unicorns screamed, “Colonel Pie! I’m nearing my limit. Permission to conjure a bomb?”

Applejack, who until now stared at the utter pandemonium in a frozen daze, stirred from her coma and her eyes went wide at the word ‘bomb’. “Sweet applesauce! Please don’t let him!” she begged Pinkie. “Just give me a moment!” she added loudly as she disappeared outside in a flash.

A few moments later she came back with three dirty and anguished looking fillies, a wrecked scooter, and an extremely dark expression. Tears freely streaked down the fillies’ dirty faces, as they glanced around the destroyed kitchen.

Applejack faced her sister. “Apple Bloom! I told ya again an’ again to be careful, haven’t I? But ya just can’t ever listen to me,” she chastised, while checking around to see if any of the filly’s wounds were serious. “Thank the Stars, you’re okay.” She let out a deep and anxious sigh she was holding in. “I swear, one day you’ll really hurt yourself, if you keep doing this,” she said softly, voice full of worry. Then her expression hardened again and she pointed towards the door. “Now you two scram, an’ Bloom, go to your room!”

“But why, Sis?” groaned Apple Bloom, while raising an accusatory hoof towards the unicorns and Pinkie still hiding under the table. “Why are they allowed to make a mess?”

“That’s not what I’m expecting y’all to say.” Applejack answered her with a grim look and the fillies hung their heads.

“We’re sorry!” the trio bleated. One of them, a pegasus filly with tiny wings, stepped closer. “Can I please have my scooter back now?”

Applejack rolled her eyes with feigned irritation. “Fine. Now run along, let the adults clean this mess.” She gave back the slightly bent vehicle and the fillies dispersed.

She turned back to the others and took off her hat. “I’m mighty sorry about this all, Miss Pie. I spend most of my time busy in the orchard, I really don’t have the time to constantly watch over my sis an’ her antics,” she apologized to the mare crawling out from her hiding place, but Pinkie shut her down with a magnanimous wave of her hoof.

“No biggie!” she beamed. “What matters is that we had a blast. Quite a big one,” she said with a giggle, while the charred remains of a painting fell off the wall with a loud thud. “But I’ll say, Applejack, it is no fair that you of all ponies is still stuck in such backbreaking work, when you have so many deeds to your name.”

“My many deeds?” Applejack laughed at that. “Miss Pie, you sure have your way with jokes. Thank ya kindly for your worries, but I’m very happy here.”

“Nuh-uh.” An impish smile spread on Pinkie’s face. “You definitely belong on a kishy-cushy pillow as the head-mare of some very important place.”

“Head-mare? …Of a very important place?” Applejack almost choked on her breath as she repeated the words. She stammered a few times, before she managed to start speaking properly. “Granny’s teeth! Please don’t even say that! That’s the last thing I’d ever wish for.” She stepped closer to Pinkie and stared into her eyes pleadingly, holding her hat in a vice-grasp. “Please, Miss Pie, just let me do my job here. My trees need me. My sister an’ brother need me. Any day now a plague could rear its ugly head in the orchard an’ then we’ll be busier than a lone bull in a rodeo. Ya have to understand, I ain’t cut out for anything more than tending my farm.”

Her begging, however, proved to be futile.

“Nope.” Under her sweet smile, Pinkie’s voice projected itself loud and unquestionable. “Tell me, Applejack, what stuff are you good at?”

“Trees an’ apples, an’ not much more,” came the honest answer. Applejack scratched the scar on her ear, before placing her hat back on her head. “I’spose can deal with a lasso too in a pinch, I guess. But I’m really not smart enough for these ideological things.”

Silence followed. “I see.” The room suddenly began to feel cold. The rays of the warm Sun outside dimmed and faded. Applejack stared with slight terror, as the smile on Pinkie’s face slowly morphed into a tiny frown. “There is one very important question I want to ask you though,” she said slowly and quietly. Even the birds outside went silent. The two stallions remained just as steadfast, but while nopony was looking they each took a careful step back.

Applejack gulped, as those cyan eyes burrowed into her very being, dominating her vision. “Uhm, yes?”

“Do you love our great Princess?” came the solemn question.

“I…” Applejack croaked. “Uh… Of course, I do.”

The candle of the Sun reignited and chirping filled the air. Pinkie threw herself into Applejack’s hooves, her mane even more puffy than before. “Well, then what are we waiting for?” she screamed in elation, blowing Applejack’s hat off her head.

“Nothing, I’spose,” she replied, less than enthused.

And that is how Applejack became the new director of the Canterlot Royal Spa.

7. Those Bickering Crowds

The Sun hung low in the sky, illuminating the early morning mist on the cold streets of Canterlot. Few were up this early, so the road yawned empty. Almost empty, that is, as a single pony marched across it. Applejack frowned as she hurried to her new workplace. Just like the street, she too was yawning, still tired and cranky from her insides being stirred up by the early train she’d taken.

Beats being foalnapped in the middle of the night at least, she supposed.

The sounds of her hooves hitting the cobblestone path rang loud as she cantered through the otherwise silent street. She was never quite a massive fan of the city, it was far too big and far too artificial for her. The winding avenues confused her and the tall walls all around made her feel cramped and uncomfortable, like she was navigating a gilded cage. In fact, she only ever felt herself in her element at the farm, where she was surrounded by the same trees and the same old earth as generations past, both of which cared very little for who was supposedly ruling over the lands.

Lost in her thoughts and still quite a bit sleepy, she hardly even noticed that she nearly stormed past her destination. To her, all the artisan-crafted buildings with their white arches and pompous decoration looked exactly the same; gaudy and ridiculous. What got her attention, instead was the long, snaking line in front of the spa. Nobles and wealthier citizens alike whispered to each other and looked with worry and irritation on their face at the closed door in front of them. Standing atop the stairs leading inside, was a burly, dirty-brown earth pony standing in front of the gate. He wore a scowl on his face, discouraging any and all from stepping closer.

“What the hay is goin’ on here?” Applejack asked as she stepped closer.

“Asks who?” the bouncer replied gruffly, hardly even giving her a glance, evident that he likely answered this very question a hundred times before today.

“Your new boss, apparently,” Applejack replied with an awkward chuckle as she produced a small paper stamped several times, supporting her claim. “So,” she asked again, “What’s going on? Why isn’t the spa open?”

“This better not be some cheap trick,” he growled as he tore the paper out of Applejack’s hooves. He gave it a quick read and with each word his eyes went wider. By the time he reached the end of the paper and saw just whose seal it held, he jumped to attention. “For Her Ladyship I report, a pony is being pampered inside,” he replied in a hushed tone, putting particular emphasis on ‘pony’.

Applejack, however, didn’t quite grasp the import of his words. “Well, duh, it’s a spa.” She snorted. “I dunno what you city folks believe about us, but even if I might be from the countryside, it ain’t like I don’t know what goes on in a spa.”

The behemoth winced at her words and leaned closer. “No, boss, you don’t understand,” he whispered pleadingly. “She is a very important pony.” Those last three words came out like gravel.

“Tch! An’ who are you to say these folks here ain’t? I bet some of them got horseshoes worth more than half my orchard,” she replied just as loud as before, flicking her head towards the anxious masses, which slowly began to pay attention to the exchange between the two. “Do these ponies have tickets?”

“Yes, ma’am, they do, but still…” he answered with visible discomfort. The front of the crowd erupted in boos.

Applejack smashed her hoof against the stairs. “Well then what’s the darn issue?” Loud cheering followed her words.

“Look, it’s…” Something stopped him from finishing his answer. He looked at the sky and sighed. The look on his face could be described as Why does the new boss have to be even denser than the last? as he then cracked the door open. “Please follow me,” he said, motioning the mare inside.

It was far more quiet in the spa and the air was wet and stuffy, but pleasantly warm. The thick walls of the building completely blocked out the droning of the nervous crowd outside. Applejack’s hooves clacked against the polished tile floor. While the duo silently made their way through the lobby, Applejack was slowly getting more and more furious as she realised the building—despite being large enough to accommodate everypony outside and more—seemed to be nearly empty save for the white dress-clad staff which kept glancing in really weird ways at her as she passed them. It was probably the hat, she supposed.

Applejack huffed indignantly at the empty tables and idle hooves, making a mental note to chastise whoever was responsible for the appointments for letting things get so sloppy—unless that was meant to be her. In which case, she really wanted to get to the end of whatever the bouncer wanted to show her and get to work as soon as she could. After passing a dozen rooms yawning just as vacant, they finally got to the end of the hallway. There the bouncer looked back at her, raised a hoof to his mouth, and then quietly and with some tenseness opened a gold-rimmed door.

The room behind was even more luxurious compared to the already gaudy decor of the spa. Great paintings depicting allegorical scenes covered the walls, showing ponies lounging around on green hills, stuffing their faces with grapes while looking terribly satisfied. These, along with the rest of the room, were illuminated by a great chandelier on which a hundred little gemstones hung. Two desks on the sides were groaning under the weight of an unbelievable variety of pampering products, while on their sides huge mirrors duplicated the room a thousandfold. A small fountain babbled quietly in the back, breaking the eerie quiet with a lulling splash. It was a shameless display of opulence. And yet, none of its splendours were what got Applejack’s attention.

No, that was the huge, black mare lying in the middle on a lavish, elevated bed. Her mane was wrapped up in a large, fluffy towel, while her eyes were obscured by slices of cucumber. Her body was snugly covered in an embroidered bathing robe. She rested her chin on a thick purple rectangular pillow, snoring gently. As she made no move upon the door’s opening, Applejack surmised she had to be asleep.

For a moment she hesitated, not wanting to disturb her slumber, but then she figured she had a duty to fulfill so she entered the room properly. Behind the mare keeping polite distance sat a pair of batponies, previously obscured by the door. Their leathery wings held great half-moon-shaped halberds, and their pale purple armour contrasted strongly with the overwhelming white and gold colours dominating the room. Their slit-like pupils narrowed as they eyed the new arrivals with open suspicion, but they remained in place.

“There… You see now?” the bouncer whispered behind her, his voice barely louder than a breath.

Applejack, however, did not. She turned back and asked, far louder, “Do they have tickets?” He looked at her and blinked a few times in disbelief, as if trying to wake up from a bad dream. No words came to his mouth and he just grunted meekly, twitching his head towards the guards and the mare in the middle in one desperate final attempt to make her realise the situation.

“So I can’t even get a straight answer, huh? No wonder Colonel Pie sent me here!” Applejack huffed as she ran a hoof over her face. “This place really does need somepony to sort it out. Do you ponies not realise we can’t run this place by lettin’ in only one pony at a time?” she smouldered, before regaining some composure. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. You go an’ let the others in, I’ll go have a firm chat with these three in the meantime. Alright?” The bouncer shot one last hollow stare towards the mare, opening and closing his mouth a few times, before turning around to oblige her request. Applejack meanwhile walked up to one of the guards.

“Howdy! Beg pardon for bothering ya, but do you know if she has an appointment?” she asked loudly, pointing at the mare who stirred from her voice, before going back to a visibly lighter sleep. The guard’s face remained set in stone, giving her no reply. Instead she aimed her halberd towards Applejack, the blade hanging mere centimeters from her face. Applejack laughed as she batted the menacing weapon away with ease. “Come on now, partner, very funny, but I really don’t have time for jokes right now. I was askin’ for a ticket, not a weapon.”

Before the guard or her fellow could make another move, the sounds of excited chatter filtered into the room from outside. Ponies flooded into the building, loudly discussing everything from the latest rumours to the weather. The two bats immediately leapt towards the door and slammed it shut, standing ready with their weapons to strike at anypony who dared to enter.

But it was all for naught.

The mare on the table violently shook and her head shot up. The cucumber slices fell from her eyes, revealing thin cat-like pupils stirring in fierce teal lakes. The towel on her head ignited and burned away in blue flame. The robe slid off, revealing a white, crescent Moon amidst dark spots. A shifting, ethereal mane began to unfurl from under it, coloured like the cold emptiness of space, and flowed outward to its full length, peppered with endless stars and supernovae.

“Who dares to disturb Our beauty sleep?” she boomed with a voice that made Applejack shiver and the mirrors on the wall crack. The guards turned around, clear horror written on their faces. They gave haphazard messy salutes and pointed at Applejack with shaky hooves.

“Her, Your Majesty,” one of them managed to squeeze out in a squeaky voice.

“Treason! Conspiracy!” The Princess’s voice became increasingly frantic and high-pitched with each word. Her wings flared open and her eyes shot lightning bolts. A small dark storm cloud gathered around the ceiling of the room and the temperature quickly turned from warm to icy. “Sun-loyalist scum! You two, don’t just stand around! Away with her! Immediately!”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” the two guards whinnied with visible relief that their Princess’s wrath wasn’t directed at them and, with a vicious hiss for a battle-cry, tackled Applejack to the ground.

Mere minutes and a few bruises later—these bats really did express work after all—she found herself in a cell that was already very familiar to her.

As she was led inside, she came face to face with Blind Devotion, who was quietly looking at the window-bar-shaped shadows on the floor. At Applejack’s entry she looked up.

“Thank the Sun I’ve met with you again, Sister,” she greeted Applejack with a warm smile.

“Thank a black carriage instead,” Applejack grumbled with far less enthusiasm.

“Oh, hello Applejack!” Flim called out to her with feigned surprise from the bed. “How come you’re here again?” Flam sitting next to him continued his words with blatantly false worry.

“You two shut your pieholes,” she replied scornfully. “All’s well in Equestria, even with me in here.”

“Oh, we wouldn’t be so sure.” The brothers looked at each other meaningfully. Applejack would have paid many bits to see their smug smiles gone. “Yup, the Griffons are coming soon.”

“King Grover himself with a thousand birds, huh?” Applejack chuckled humourlessly. “The only birds I see here are you two cuckoos. I guess it is for the best if you two just sit here an’ wait for him.”

The brothers folded their hooves. “Well, believe what you want.”, “Just don’t say we didn’t warn you!”, “Speaking of, there is something you should know.”

Applejack cocked an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Let’s just say we heard it through the bars that your little friends are throwing each other in prison,” the two sang in unison.

A moment later their song had its explosive finish when their heads smashed against the wall with loud bangs as Applejack pinned them by their necks. “Now, listen here, my question will be a very simple one an’ I’ll ask this once an’ only once,” she said with little patience to the croaking duo, who stared back at her with fear and surprise in their eyes. “How exactly did two slimeballs like you figure out such a thing?” she hissed as her voice dropped deathly low.

All the commotion caused Blind Devotion to stir from her trance and trot next to Applejack. She put a calming hoof on her foreleg, smiling gently. “Peace, sister, peace. Remember the old tale, ponies should not fight amongst each other. Such would invite a darkness even more terrible than the Usurper. Don’t seek justice by your own hooves. Our Radiant Princess will rise again and claim her rightful throne once more. Under her there shall be no such injustices.”

Applejack reluctantly let go of the sputtering brothers, who slowly slid down to the mattress, gasping for air and rubbing the backs of their heads. She turned towards the mare. “I’m mighty sorry, but I simply don’t see her returnin’ anytime soon.”

“Look, Her Radiance raised the Sun and Moon for a thousand years and she spent nopony knows how many more centuries before just raising the Sun. Meanwhile Nightmare Moon has been here for…” She didn’t finish the sentence.

Applejack shrugged, untouched by her words. “Eh, I see what ya mean, but you should really give Her Majesty a chance. No ruler starts with a thousand years in the barn.”

“You’ll learn the truth in time.” Blind frowned a little, but then immediately regained her smile. “Anyway, what’s for lunch today?” she asked without losing a beat. Applejack shrugged once more, prompting the other to trot over to the far-side wall and gently tap on it. As she listened to the quiet knocks from the other side, the smile wilted from her face. “Dry oats, again,” she said grimly.

“Dry oats…” Applejack echoed with sourness in her voice. “I know we can’t eat the apples of our golden tomorrow, but consarnit, I’d love to have a bite,” she muttered under her breath. Even the two brothers, who in the meantime regained their mojo and watched the two mares’ exchange with wide grins, seemed to deflate upon hearing the despicable food’s name.

Suddenly metal scraped against metal in the lock and the cell door opened. A batpony guard stuck his head inside.

“Prisoner Applejack,” he called in a bored tone vaguely towards the center of the room.

“Huh?” she replied, cocking her head to the side in confusion, before the realisation hit. “Oh! Present.”

The bat’s pupils shrank as he stared at her, though his voice remained just as flat. “Gather your belongings. You’re coming with me.”

8. The Lunatic Ride

Once again, Applejack found herself at the humble abode of Colonel Pinkie Pie for lunch. Pinkie met Applejack in front of her house and immediately pulled her into an uncomfortably tight hug before leading the way inside, bouncing as she did. Applejack followed her with tense, heavy steps. Once inside, she stood in front of her host and took off her hat.

“I am tremendously sorry, Miss Pie,” she began. “But, as I’ve told you, I’m simply too simple for these tasks. If Her Majesty was, say, wearing her tiara or something, I would have certainly realised it was her from all the Moon-stuff an’ would have protected her from those bickering crowds. But as she just laid there?” Applejack reached back to scratch her neck, before shrugging. “I dunno, thought she was some unicorn with a big flank.”

Pinkie merely giggled in response and beckoned Applejack deeper into the room. “No biggie! Her Majesty felt super forgiving,” she said as the two walked inside. “And you don’t have to worry about that mean bouncer anymore, we put him away. He’s responsible for the whole thing anyways.”

“T-The bouncer?” Applejack asked in shock. “But he didn’t do a darn thing!”

“His grandma harbored Sun-loving beliefs.” Pinkie turned to stare at Applejack, who noticed that Pinkie’s mane began to hang surprisingly limp compared to its usual puffiness. “He confessed it,” she finished her sentence slowly and with her usual smile absent.

A second passed in silence.

“I see,” Applejack replied quietly. The room felt very cold and the light of the chandelier seemed to fade into darkness around Pinkie. Applejack gulped a little, then continued, even quieter. “In any case, it’d be mighty nice of you to allow me to go back to my farm. Any day now the trees could fall ill or somethin’!”

“Nuh-uh, can’t do!” Pinkie’s mane was as bouncy as ever again as she answered with an energetic shake of her head. She took Applejack’s hat out of her hooves and placed it back on her head, before spinning around and trotting deeper into the bright room. “Say, do you like Canterlot cuisine?”

“To be honest, I like most everything.” Applejack felt helpless as Pinkie guided her to the table and motioned her to sit down.

Pinkie then blew into the small trumpet again and moments later Maud appeared with a great hay-burger resting amid a heaping helping of fries. Instead of the usual dark blue smock, however, this time she was wearing a light cream one. Applejack gawked as the plate was effortlessly placed in front of her and she awkwardly reached for a fry. Pinkie meanwhile continued to stand next to her and stare at her intently.

“Enjoy,” Maud droned.

She began to leave, but Pinkie stopped her. “Maud, just a sec.”

“Yes, Pinkie?” she asked, turning back.

“Is that smock new?”

“Yes, Pinkie,” came the flat reply, tinted with the slightest hint of pride. Applejack rubbed her eyes, it almost seemed to her like Maud’s lips were curling ever so slightly upwards. “It is new.”

Pinkie shook her head. “I don’t like it one bit. It’s far too bright,” she said with a frown. “Let’s leave these glowing things for the Solars to blind themselves with.”

Maud’s grey face turned a shade redder than usual and any hint of a smile Applejack might have noticed before was completely and utterly gone. She quickly hurried out of the room through the secret door, which she slammed behind herself.

“Ah, it isn’t easy, not one teensy-weensy bit easy.” Pinkie sighed theatrically and trotted over to Applejack. “You know, AJ, one day, we will ask something of you,” she mused mysteriously.

Applejack shuddered at her nickname being used. She placed the half-chewed fry back on the plate and turned to Pinkie. “Just please ask already!” she groaned in exasperation.

But once again her tormentor remained steadfast. “Nope! Not yet!”

Applejack turned back towards the table bitterly and stared at the hayburger. “I miss my trees. I miss my siblings. I can’t bear this,” she grunted. Her words didn’t fall on deaf ears as Pinkie slowly placed a hoof on her shoulder.

“Oh, come now, lighten up. If you don’t wanna work in this sorta place, I understand. It was really my oopsie to give you a job that didn’t fit ya.” Applejack carefully cocked an eyebrow and glanced towards Pinkie with a hint of hope in her eyes. “That’s why we’re placing you in another post. It’s gonna be a lot more exciting than some musty old spa too!” The little hope that had accumulated in Applejack’s eyes was gone. With a heavy sigh, she slumped even deeper into her chair. Pinkie’s smile, however, went even wider as she swept her hoof through the air in front of Applejack. “You’ll be helping us convince ponies that things are much better off with Her Majesty!”

“Me, of all ponies?” Applejack couldn’t help but blink incredulously. For a moment she suspected she misunderstood the sentence, but the certainty in Pinkie’s eyes said otherwise. Applejack put her hooves together. “Miss Pie, I told you already! I’m totally useless when it comes to this stuff.”

“Of course you of all ponies!” came the cheerful, yet firm answer. “You’ve been there, after all. It was your family who got harassed by those yucky Sun-loyalists, who wanted to take all your apples for the war effort.” Pinkie sucked in air through her teeth and shook her head in sympathy.

Applejack pushed away the plate and pushed her forehead against the table. Then, having assumed the appropriate position, she admitted her defeat. “I’spose that’s true,” her grumbled words echoed from below the table.

“See, that’s the spirit! Where the Moon doesn’t shine, the Sun does and we can’t have that now, can we? From tomorrow, you’ll be the new director of Canterlot’s Sun-park!”

Applejack raised her head and looked at Pinkie with slight confusion written on her face. “Sun-park? Huh. Never been there before.” She hesitated before continuing, but as much as she tried, she couldn’t put two and two together. “What’s the place about? Why is it called ‘Sun-park’?”

“Dunno!” Pinkie shrugged, her mane a bit less puffy than before. Whatever beat she had, Applejack’s unexpected questions shook her out of it. “Not my job to know. It’s just a park with some attractions and covert praises to the Sun Tyrant. We simply never got around to fixing it, y’know? I need you to sort it out,” she rattled off. “Does its name matter at all?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Pie, but yeah. It does.” At this point Applejack had enough of being dragged around in the dark. “Why is it named after the Sun, when everypony’s off their rockers about that fiery ball these days? If y’all are so worried about the praise, why not focus on the attractions instead an’ call it Game-park or Fun-park?”

The word ‘fun’ had an electric effect on the eccentric host. Pinkie rocketed into the air and, as she landed again, she took Applejack’s cheeks into her hooves, pulling the shocked pony’s face closer towards her own. “That’s exactly it!” she yelled. Pinkie was positively beaming. Her words almost blew Applejack’s hat off. “You grabbed the problem by its ugly neck. Why call it ‘Sun-park’? To let the white menace and her light-loving cronies have the last laugh? No sir-ee! Fun-park, that is what our humble and hard-working ponies need!” A tear gleamed at the edge of her eye, which she gently wiped away. “Ah, I always knew you had it in yourself, Applejack. You’ll make a fine director for our Fun-park!”

Seeing her plan rapidly derailing, Applejack threw out one last desperate attempt at stopping Pinkie. “I appreciate the kind words, Miss Pie, but I still don’t think I’m right for this job.”

Her meek complaint, however, proved futile.

“See, you’re already good at making jokes! Do you love our Great Princess?” Pinkie asked, without missing a beat.

Applejack gave a very long nod. The next day she woke to the letter congratulating her on becoming the director of the newly rechristened Fun-park.

Even if she wasn’t too pleased with her current situation, nopony could have admonished Applejack for taking half-measures. From the moment she arrived to the lush green meadow, which housed the park in the outskirts of the city, she wasted no time standing around idly—except to take a quick approving look at the new sign of the establishment.

The previous plaque filled with stylised icons of the Sun, including—undoubtedly to the outrage of many—the Sun Tyrant’s own cutie mark, was hastily covered up with a slightly crooked wooden plank nailed in front of it with balloons and text painted on it. It announced in curvy colourful letters that the pony reading it was entering the Fun-park—courtesy of the Colonel herself.

Still feeling quite a bit guilty for the bouncer and not wanting to get anypony else in trouble, Applejack decided that she wanted to do things right. So instead of playing it loose and delegating jobs, she took things into her hooves from the get go. First off she had the old wooden Windigos used for throwing balls at replaced with the facsimiles of various Sun-loyalists and other undesirable figures. It was, after all, time to focus on the real enemies, not on some silly foal’s tale everypony could sing about by heart to utter boredom. She also threw out all the trinkets and toys one could win at the various attractions and races, and had small figurines of the Night Princess ordered in their stead to serve as far more decent mementos.

Her best work, however, was definitely renovating the old boat ride. It was a favourite of the crowds, a small circular stream going through a small hill in the middle of the park. One could find several little wooden boats inside, that were slightly enchanted to be able to make laps on their own, allowing the passengers to enjoy the scenery and the many statues of the recently-crestfallen Solar heroes and nobles at their own leisure.

But where once these statues stood, the crew placed art and freshly commissioned statues depicting Her Majesty’s various deeds, to make it obvious even to the simplest souls around just what exactly they gained under their new ruler.

And so the old Solar Ride became the Lunatic Ride.

The only things that weren’t touched were the finely carved columns of stone which stood between the statues, enchanted to light on fire when a boat passed nearby. These used to represent the mightiness and immortality of the ruler of the Sun, yet Applejack insisted on keeping them, seeing a prime opportunity to turn a potent weapon like that against its owner. As the fiery ball began setting and the darkness slowly enveloped the park, one of the workers, an aging stallion who had worked at the park even before the change of power, couldn’t help but question her decision.

“Miss Applejack, with all due respect, why are we keeping these old things?” he asked meekly. “Aren’t they making the rest of the decor seem a bit…” He stalled for a few seconds, looking at the various paintings illuminated in the wobbly, haunting light of the fires. “Well, disturbing?” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “What if ponies get scared of Her Majesty?”

“Ah, I see what ya mean,” Applejack replied with a smile radiating wisdom. “It’s pretty much the point though. Colonel Pie told me, the intercreatural situation just keeps on escalating. Ponies who hide some rotten apples in their closets should better feel a little on the edge.” With that the argument was settled.

The days passed in high spirits. With Applejack’s experienced coordination and tireless work, the preparations progressed at an unprecedented pace and soon enough it was time to inaugurate the newly renovated—and, finally, ideologically sensitive enough—Fun-park.

To win a point for the Lunar cause and whip up a bit of buzz around the not-so-popular park Pinkie made some arrangements and it was soon announced that Her Majesty herself would visit to be the first to enjoy the refurbished attractions. Indeed, even if the official opening of the park was only the next day and they weren’t allowed inside just yet—a matter of national security, Pinkie reassured Applejack—crowds gathered around the entrance, their loud cheering filling the late afternoon air.

That is until the rapid beating of drums overpowered the ovation as a band of musicians suddenly began to play a marching song. Applejack, surrounded by her employees, watched from the side as their ruler slowly descended through in her batpony-drawn carriage.

The Princess’s characteristic armor was completely absent, instead she wore a small ebony tiara and a simple chest-piece adorned with only the image of a crescent Moon on it. Her starry mane flew freely in the air, its dark surface occasionally interrupted by gentle constellations and the soft glow of cosmic dust. She smiled and waved towards the crowd, which screamed its elated praise towards her as a singular pony.

Beyond her greater figure and visibly dignified stature, near anypony could have mistaken her as merely part of the nobility at first glance. One could wonder if the Princess truly wanted to appear approachable to the common folk or if this whole thing was merely a publicity stunt. Applejack, however, had a park to open, so she had far more pressing matters on her mind than to ponder such questions.

After disembarking the Princess stepped in front of the purple-black-colored string strewn across the park’s entrance. With a flick of her horn the string’s middle lit up and snapped in two.

Amidst loud cheering and beating of hooves, the Princess entered the park along with a few of her aides. Applejack and her workers remained at a polite but close distance, not wanting to lose out on any of the action.

The Princess said few words as she passed game by game in the empty park. Only the few nods she deigned acted as flimsy reassurance that Applejack and her crew had, in fact, done a good job. To Applejack’s surprise a simple foal’s game about throwing rubber spiders into a comically large web proved to be particularly popular with the Princess.

A stressful hour later the small group had finally reached around the park and to the workers’ relief, the Princess had so far approved of all the stations she had seen. Except for one she was yet to see for herself.

It was finally time for the main attraction.

Applejack bit her lower lip in wary anticipation, as Her Majesty elegantly stepped inside the first boat, her attachment taking the second. Applejack herself took seat in the third boat a bit further to the back, leaving the others outside to stew in their own sweat while they waited for their ruler’s final and most important endorsement.

A moment later the spell cast on the boats activated and they slowly began to glide through the peaceful waters towards the first exhibition. As they drifted through the dark canal, two of the pillars suddenly ignited and a great painting revealed itself to the ponies. It depicted a burning town surrounded by red eyes peering from the suffocating darkness all around. Under the violent oranges and reds, the burning roofs and chaotically scrambling black figures against the backdrop of the flames, the text “Liberation By Our Virtuous Bats” could be read. The Princess shifted on her hooves, but didn’t comment. Applejack allowed a small smile to grace her lips—things were going better than expected.

The next painting was of the Moon in great detail. The Mare in the Moon’s dark blotches gleamed from the fire-light, staining the pale globe hanging in the star-sprangled sky. Even with the pillar’s flames, anypony looking at the art couldn’t help but feel cold and shiver from the lifelike depiction of the lunar wasteland. “Her Majesty’s Previous Glorious Domain,” the painting’s caption stated. The alicorn visibly shuddered, her wings beating involuntarily, rocking the boat slightly left and right. For a moment the notion of this not being that good of a sign flashed through Applejack’s mind. But surely, Her Majesty just can’t contain her giddiness, she reassured herself, smiling at the wholesome scene in front of her.

The next painting depicted a small cell or perhaps cellar. As before the artist spared no detail. Dingy torches illuminated the room dimly, their light reflecting from the small puddles of water dripping from the ceiling. A rickety table was placed in the middle with a young stallion sitting behind it. His white body was stained with grime and dirt, while his once wheat-yellow mane stuck to his head in wet strands. The hints of shackles could be seen on his hindlegs, hidden between the table’s legs and the chair. He was leaning above the desk, holding a quill. His face was contorted into anguish, as his tired, reddened, and wet eyes read the end of a lengthy parchment, which reached down far beyond the table. Several batponies surrounded him, their sharpened halberds aimed towards his throat. The weapons’ blades glinted treacherously in the torchlight. “The Cowardly Regent Yields Canterlot To Our Glorious Liberators”, it said. Applejack frowned a little when she noticed the Princess wasn’t looking at the painting and was instead busy staring at the floor of the boat. Applejack wondered what could have been so interesting as to take away her Princess’s attention like that.

Soon she forgot her worries, as after a few more small stations, they finally arrived to the centerpiece of the ride. The columns all fell dark and the three boats continued their journey in pitch black. Applejack crawled to the front of her boat in anticipation, so that she could see the Princess’s reaction. Suddenly four fires ignited simultaneously, revealing a great statue in the middle.

As the harsh lights illuminated the massive marble masterpiece, the image of Nightmare Moon in all of her glory revealed itself. Applejack commissioned one of the most fervent supporters of the new regime, who went to the furthest lengths he could to give the Princess’s image its due grandeur.

Reflecting the angry flames of the pillars, the statue’s ruby eyes blazed red, appearing as if they themselves burned with the fires of Tartarus. The statue wore a conqueror’s armour, fashioned from black marble, hiding most of its mane and giving its face a feline, predatory look. Its hooves, clad in heavy armoured horseshoes, were raised high into the air, ready to trample a tiny, frail alicorn laying on the ground, who stared up at the victorious Princess with tear-soaked, despondent eyes, while clutching a tarnished, beaten emblem of the Sun.

For a second Applejack basked in her victory. The statue was perfect. It was glorious. It radiated power, absolute power. There was no way the Princess wouldn’t appreciate it. The thought of Pinkie finally letting her go home played in her mind, only to be torn to shreds as the statue’s likeness let out a single tiny anguished yelp before collapsing unconscious. Her attachment sprang out of their boat in a panic, grabbing her barge’s sides and quickly dragging it outside. Applejack spent the rest of the short journey in darkness and silence, wondering what went wrong.

By the time she reached outside the Princess was already coming to. “Is that how you still see Us?” she bleated towards one of her guards, who did his best to violently shake his head. Upon spotting Applejack, the Princess shot a deadly glare towards the farmpony, not unlike the one seen on the statue, except for the trail of tears staining her cheeks. “Seize her!” she screamed.

“Huh, who?” Applejack asked, looking behind herself, trying to find what hidden enemy was able to infiltrate the tunnel. As she turned back, a hoof connecting with her face answered her question.

9. Ahead for the Lunar Tomato!

And that was how Applejack returned to prison once more. By then the house of criminals had lost all its novelty to her and trotting the dull grey corridors did little to uplift her spirits.

As she entered through the heavily reinforced iron door, she saw the cell’s previous three occupants sitting in a circle on the floor, playing cards. A small pile of bits sat next to the two stallions, with merely two coins on the mare’s side. As the players laid down their cards, Blind slowly hung her head and tossed her remaining bits over as well.

Her sombreness immediately dissolved, however, as she spotted Applejack. The farmpony ignored her cheerful wave and instead chose to collapse on the bed, turning towards the wall.

“Ah just don’t get it,” she grumbled at the flaky cold wall. “I try only my best but everything keeps goin’ wrong. An’ the trees at home might get sick any day now too.”

“Sister, have faith,” said Blind, as she got up from the floor. “Our Radiant Princess watches over us even at this very moment.”

“Well, she better,” agreed Applejack with a sigh. She turned away from the wall, eyeing the three others in the room with a tired gaze. “You know, I think things are this close to bein’ fine, but there are just a few too many troublemakers and no-goods out there messin’ with stuff. I bet everypony will be put to their place darn soon enough though.”

“Including you,” interjected one of the brothers. Which one, Applejack was too angry to tell.

Applejack shot him a puncturing gaze. “Be as nasty as ya want, I did mean that including myself.” She then turned to the mare. “So what’s for lunch today?”

A series of secretive knocks later, the expression on Blind’s face changed from deep concentration to bright joy. “By Her blessed Sun! We’re having potato salad!”

Applejack licked her lips upon hearing the name of such a much more favourable food. She felt her good mood slowly return, especially now that she was at least a little vindicated in her beliefs. “See,”—she said triumphantly—“things really are improving after all.”

And yet, in a cruel twist of Harmony, she didn’t remain long enough in prison to enjoy her meal, instead spending her lunchtime once again at the Colonel’s.

As soon as they entered Pinkie’s workroom, Applejack felt like it was now or never. “Miss Pie, I beg ya kindly, enough with these experiments of yours,” she desperately pleaded.

Pinkie watched her with a silent little frown and sighed. Wordlessly, she disappeared into her kitchen, then returned with a fancy apple cake. She gently placed the dish in front of Applejack, before collapsing into a chair. Her mane hung limply, obscuring her face.

“This is triple-super-unfun,” she muttered to herself. “The intercreatural situation is still intensifying and I’m tired, so-so very tired, Applejack.”

Applejack felt her conviction crack a little as she beheld the pony who seemed to be such an inexhaustible source of energy suddenly so glum. Yet she could not stop now. “You’ve had your fun, but I don’t wanna be yanked around no more. My trees are hurtin’ at home! Please let me home to tend to them. I cannot expect Bloomie and Mac to take care of them alone!”

“You think I’m doing this for ‘fun’?” Pinkie asked, as she slowly moved her mane out of her face and stared at Applejack with lifeless, tired eyes. “Do you know how many nights I’ve spent sleepless to turn this sorry country into the happiest stable on this side of the globe?” She scoffed. “Even I can’t recall!”

Applejack scratched her head, trying to come up with something to reassure her. “I’spose I feel ya on that front. We do all have many sleepless nights nowadays,” she said sympathetically, before realisation suddenly shone on her face. “I know! Why not try some more apple cider? After just a few mugs you’ll sleep so soundly, they could drop a mountain next to you an’ ya wouldn’t even care!”

Pinkie, however, wasn’t listening. She merely averted her eyes and sighed wistfully. “It’s no use. The enemy is already among us,” she whispered.

Applejack stared in horror. “You mean—”

“I mean, we will ask something of you very-very soon,” Pinkie snapped back.

“Look, if it means we won’t need to bother each other again, then please, just ask already. I’ll do anything!”

“Nope, you still gotta learn to be more patient.” Pinkie suddenly regained her trademark smile and sprang out of the chair, landing next to Applejack. The farmer stared at her wide-eyed, her gaze retracing the surprisingly long flight during which she somehow managed to not hit anything in the chaos of the room. “Until then, I’m putting you to new use!” she said in a chipper tone, now from up-close.

“Miss Pie, are you even listening to me?” Desperation and frustration fought each other for the prime spot in her voice. “I’ve told you. I’m really not the right pony for your tasks.”

“Bah, nonsense. Tell me, do you love…”

“Our Great Princess?” Applejack asked expectantly.

“Pffft, no silly,” Pinkie replied, hardly being able to contain her giggles. “This time I meant tomatoes.”

“I’m sure I do,” Applejack conceded after a second. She hung her head, understanding her defeat. “I haven’t eaten any in a decade.”

And that is how she became the director of the Equestrian Lunar Tomato Society.

Despite her unwillingness at first, this time she found herself in her element. Sure, tomatoes weren’t exactly apples, but they were red and round and at the end of the day they were still plants that required care and attention to grow. This was work she was more than familiar with.

She had large swathes of land plowed, taking much of the work into her very own hooves, and gratuitously seeded with tomatoes. The work also brought with itself industry. New home after new home was built for the families of the ever growing group of tomato-researchers—each more eager than the last to help with the cause—along with brand new schools, kindergartens, and even a whole new park. By the end of the year a prestigious little district grew in place of what used to be barren mountainside.

However, while property values soared, in terms of yield things didn’t seem nearly as impressive, at least at the moment. Through all the hectares upon hectares of frail green plants, there was only a single pale-orange orb to be found. Applejack, crested by her little army, spent all day and all night measuring the little pioneer’s growth, watering its plant’s soil, protecting it from wind and cold, all in eager anticipation for the day of the harvest—a momentous occasion, during which the first Lunar tomato would be cut in the presence of Her Majesty herself, followed by the ceremonial gifting of various accolades and awards.

It was the day before the celebrations and Applejack made one last round to check if everything was in order. She made sure the dais was prepared and that the great signpost hanging above it—with the words “Ahead for the Lunar Tomato!” written on it—was taut enough. She had already sent the rest of the team home, allowing them to make themselves ready for the big event. Once everything seemed to be to her satisfaction, she took the time to trot out into the fields at the last light of the Sun and take one last cherished look at the still slightly struggling, but at least finally decently red bulb. Its cheerful hue and shiny surface reassured Applejack.

Finally, she thought, exhaling a content sigh as she turned to go home. Finally something went well.

The night came and passed quickly, and it was time to celebrate. The dais groaned from all the nobleponies sitting on it, especially from the alicorn Princess, who took the first seat. The air was filled by the sound of music and the excited gasps of the audience standing a bit further behind as the recently rechristened Shadowbolts made their way through their sky in daring feats of dangerous acrobatics clad in skintight latex suits.

Applejack wasn’t quite able to enjoy the attractions as the others with the twisting knot in her stomach. She excused herself from the crowd and took the opportunity to sneak backstage and take one last look at the star of the show: The one and only Lunar Tomato, hidden under a crystal lid covered by the Lunar flag. Before she could have raised the cloth, however, a voice called out from behind her.

“Mm. Oph, phey Siphs.”

She turned around to find Apple Bloom standing behind her, munching on something in great delight. Applejack slowly felt the blood freeze in her, despite the warm Summer day. She stumbled back a little, then forwards, unsure if she really wanted to know for sure what her little sister was so eagerly chewing on.

“Apple Bloom,” Applejack asked slowly, her eyes unfocused and tone flat. “What in Tartarus are you eating exactly?”

“Dunno,” came the nonchalant answer. “I found it on tha’ desk, it’s tasty stuff.” She swallowed and licked her lips. “Yum! Some round red thingy, looked a bit like a tiny weird apple. Y’know what I mean?”

Suddenly the very sky seemed to darken in front of Applejack’s eyes. She buried her face in a hoof, just to make sure she wasn’t having a nightmare. Sadly, she wasn’t. “Apple Bloom.” She did not raise her voice. It took her all of her concentration to find the words she wanted to say. “Did you eat the tomato that was on the desk behind me?” she asked, chasing that faint, fickle hope that this was all a big misunderstanding and through some miracle there was some other round, red object on the desk.

“A to-may-to, huh?” Apple Bloom nodded. “Fancy name!"

“Did you eat it?” Applejack wasn’t as much saying them, as the words were simply tumbling out of her mouth.

"Yup, I did. It was really tasty!” Bloom added eagerly. “When can we get some more?”

Applejack didn’t reply.

“What’s the matter, Sis?” the filly asked with an innocent blink after sensing that something was wrong. As her sister continued to stand there like some grotesque ornament nobles often placed on the edges of their castle walls to scare off unruly pegasi foals, Apple Bloom’s little mind did its best to come up with an explanation. After a few seconds the pieces of the most likely answer finally clicked in her mind. Her eyes went wide and she looked to the side, blushing in embarrassment. “Oh no. I didn’t know you liked them that much. I’m real sorry, I should have left you some.”

“Ah’m so screwed.”

Applejack continued to stand there in a daze. Then she found herself rushing out towards the dais in a panic. Forcing a little calmness on herself, she looked over the crowd for any hope of fixing this unfixable situation.

Her eyes suddenly came to a halt on Pinkie Pie, who sat on the side, kicking her hooves around. Applejack snuck up to her, doing her best to not raise attention and whispered into Pinkie’s ear. “Miss Pie, it’s all over. My little sister ate the tomato.”

Pinkie remained unfazed by the unexpected turn of events, she merely reached under her seat, pulling out and passing Applejack a big red apple.

“B-but this is an apple.” Decades’ worth of agricultural experience gathered in this one statement.

“It’s a tomato,” came the resolute answer.

“It is clearly an apple,” Applejack tried again, but Pinkie placed a hoof on her mouth.

“It is a tomato and I’m not arguing it.” And that was that.

Once the flight show was over, the big band redoubled its efforts and, as the Equestrian anthem blared over the audience, Applejack presented Her Majesty the platter containing the apple.

With royal elegance, the Princess levitated the fruit off the plate and raised it to her mouth. A tiny bite later her eyes suddenly contracted and she shrunk back, looking with hardly-suppressed rage at the pony in front of her.

“What is this?” she hissed.

“A tomato,” Applejack replied after a second, glancing over to Pinkie Pie for strength, who had since procured a sign saying ‘Go get her, AJ!’ from somewhere. Applejack’s words gained momentum. “It is the new Lunar Tomato. It might be a bit sweeter and a bit whiter on the inside, but it is all ours!”

The Princess’s pupils narrowed paper-thin and she raised an accusatory eyebrow. Applejack gulped and suddenly felt very cold despite the hot summer day. With a silent prayer towards Granny and all the Apple ancestors, she forced her lips into a wide, shining smile.

A second later the spell broke and Nightmare Moon nodded graciously. Amid loud cheering, especially from one particular pink pony, she continued to eat the new Lunar tomato with only the slightest hint of unease and suspicion on her face.

Applejack meanwhile stepped away and, once she was finally out of the limelight, exhaled a breath that her lungs had compressed into diamonds.

The rest of the day was smooth sailing from then on. Surrounded by the near-deafening sound of congratulatory stomping, the awards and accolades were finally distributed.

Another victory for Equestria! Another victory for the Lunars!

Applejack herself received a badge and not without reason. The mare was caught up in the jubilation, as she looked with satisfaction and a bit of pride at the small crescent moon hanging from her chest. Finally, she thought. Finally something really went well. Though there was a little niggling sensation in the back of her mind that not everything was that well after all.

In the afternoon celebrations continued in the Royal Theatre, where the evergreen classic recounting the events of Equestria’s founding was being played. A pony sang about how the four tribes used to be separated and how the wretched Sun Tyrant forbid the fiery globe from rising, causing the world to gradually freeze over, bringing suffering and misery to all ponykind. Applejack and her family watched the play from a private box, courtesy of being the project’s director.

Suddenly the door to the box clicked and then clicked again.

Before Applejack could have turned around to check who intruded upon her family scene, her vision was completely filled by pink mane. She politely moved the overwhelming pink ocean out of her eyes and came face to face with an extremely widely smiling Pinkie Pie.

“We’ve done it!” she said with unmasked triumph. “See, AJ, wasn’t it worth it?” Her hoof swept over the theatre in front of them. “Now this is a real party!” She finally took half a step back, allowing some breathing room for the poor mare.

“I suppose,” Applejack agreed, though her voice didn’t match her enthusiasm nor the joy she felt previously. “Look, Miss Pie… It’s not that I’m not happy y’all are happy, but I’ve had some time to think an’ I kinda feel rotten about this whole tomato thing.” She glanced around and lowered her voice to a whisper. “We’ve done this by lyin’ to folks after all.”

“Pffft, come now Jackie, don’t joke around.” Pinkie struggled to keep quiet as she burst out laughing, causing a few other boxes to shush them in frustration. “Who did we really lie to?” Her laughter tamed into a knowing smile and she too lowered her voice. "Ourselves? We know full well what happened.

"Your crew? You and I both know they never really cared much about tomatoes anyways and most of the real work was done by you. Your toiling really brought tears to one’s eye, y’know? The rest just enjoyed being part of an exciting but easy project and the clout of getting an award from Her Majesty. For the rest of their lives they will smile if they hear the name ‘Applejack’.

“Maybe then Equestria? Let’s not kid ourselves. There hasn’t been enough sunlight to grow tomatoes for decades now anyways. Our ponies don’t even remember what they’re missing out on, but they’re happy and proud anyways because we’ve succeeded and they feel this success rightfully their own too.”

Pinkie paused for a second for emphasis.

“Now the world at large?” She giggled into her hoof. “Oh yes! We’ve fooled them through and through. I wouldn’t like to be in their horseshoes right now!” Another little giggle, followed by her giving Applejack one of her trademark hugs. Pinkie whispered into her ear from up-close in quiet ecstasy, “The order was given: Let there be a Lunar tomato… and there was. We don’t just make empty promises.” Another little laugh shook the mare, before her tail twitched. She glanced back and the smile fell from her face. “Hmm, it seems I must take my leave,” she said quietly. “You just enjoy the show. We’ll see each other very-very soon,” she added with a sudden hint of edge in her voice.

Before Applejack could have even acknowledged her words, Pinkie quickly stepped back and disappeared through the door once more.

Applejack wondered for a little while what could have caused the sudden shift in Pinkie’s mood, but soon her focus shifted to the play. At that moment it reached its crescendo. The four ponies of each tribe sang a heartfelt song about how ponykind must put aside its differences and unite if it wants to thrive—except for those who chose the Solars’ side. Those ponies instead had to be chased out and persecuted wherever they were found. The song was so beautiful no eyes were left dry. Applejack herself struggled not to bawl out, while her sister and brother had no such reservations.

And so, hours later, when night fell and Applejack was ushered into a carriage instead of being allowed to go home with her family, she was still sniffling a little from all those pent up emotions, to the great surprise of the two grim unicorn guards she sat between, as their ride flew across the sky towards the Colonel’s home.

10. The Pony Who Isn't Suspicious Is Suspicious

This time no dinner awaited Applejack. Maud, wearing a black smock, was waiting for her in the main hall and she led Applejack into a backroom, where she found Pinkie Pie working on a balloon animal. Unlike before, her mane hung limply, granting the mare’s head a far sharper and more gaunt look compared to its usual cheerful roundness. Applejack figured she was staring at a completely different pony—one she really wasn’t sure she wanted to be the acquaintance, let alone friend of. Next to the Colonel a dozen other finished animals laid haphazardly over the floor, while on the other side stood a heaping pile of deflated balloons of various colours.

Pinkie took no notice of the new entrant, who stumbled around awkwardly, unsure what she was supposed to do. After a minute passed and Pinkie still didn’t react to her presence, Applejack walked to the table standing on the other side of the room and sat on the chair next to it, tired of standing around.

Hypnotized by the sounds of squeaking rubber and Pinkie’s lightning-speed movements, Applejack was slowly dazed into a half-trance. Pinch, twist, turn. Pinch, twist, turn.

Applejack near jumped out of her seat in a panic as Pinkie let go of the balloon, which dashed through the air with a loud whine and landed next to her. “So, how are things, Applejack?” she asked with unexpected sharpness.

“Ah… uh, how should I know?” Applejack replied weakly, still panting a little from the sudden startle.

Pinkie took a pink balloon into her hooves, inspecting it from all sides. She pressed its ends against her lips, but then decided against blowing it up. Throwing it back onto the desk, she stood up and trotted over to Applejack’s chair.

“You know, Jackie, one of my ears hugs my head, the other perks up.” Pinkie stared at Applejack firmly, as her ears actually demonstrated. “Have you any idea what that means?”

Applejack blinked twice. “None in the slightest, Miss Pie.”

“The Lunar-Solar conflict is escalating, the intercreatural situation is intensifying, but our ponies are super vigilant.” Pinkie smashed her hoof against the floor with a dull thud and turned back towards her desk, her back facing towards Applejack. “We’ve apprehended another bunch of stinkers just a little while ago: Sparkle and her groupies,” she said coldly and quietly to the wall.

“Which Sparkle?” Applejack asked, unwilling to accept the most likely answer her mind told her.

“How many Sparkles are out there? Don’t you try to imply you don’t know her.” Pinkie raised her voice. “Twilight Sparkle, the ex-Royal Advisor. "

“Oh. Pffft, of course, I know Twilight Sparkle.” Applejack’s body slowly relaxed and she began chuckling. “‘Sparkle an’ her groupies’.” She shook her head with a smile. “Miss Pie, ya gave me a proper spook just now, but I’spose it’s all right. I think your humour has finally gotten through to me.”

She choked on her laugh as she noticed the two deep-blue eyes staring holes into her from the shadow of a forest of razor-straight pink mane. “And why exactly are you laughing?” Pinkie asked very quietly.

The tension returned into Applejack tenfold. “Well, just that you…” she stammered. “Just that you have the creativity to make up jokes about ponies so pure an’ innocent as Twilight,” the words finally fell out of her. Applejack suddenly felt very awkward and not entirely safe.

“Jokes?” Pinkie scoffed and leaned even closer. “This is no laughing matter,” came her cold answer. “Twilight Sparkle is a Solar spy and agent. It’s shame enough that she was able to evade our watchful eyes until now.”

Applejack shuffled backwards in her seat a bit. “I’ve never been good at this thinkin’ an’ politics stuff, but I just don’t believe it. I know Twilight well. She’s been head over hooves for Her Majesty’s moons since the early days.”

“Oh, so you know her?” Pinkie asked with vile, dripping sarcasm. “And what does that change exactly? You don’t even know yourself, let alone her!” She turned towards the desk, as if to walk back to it, but then she sharply turned back again. “What if I told you that your little fillyfriend has already confessed everything?”

Pinkie’s words coiled around Applejack like a giant snake. “Twilight? She confessed? Everything?” she stammered. The snake crushed and the world broke into a million sharp, jagged shards inside her. “I just can’t believe it,” she muttered.

“Well, you better start believing in it.” Pinkie’s tone invited no questions or objections. “You will be the star witness of the case.”

“Me? What for?” Applejack knew, but she had to ask. This couldn’t have been real. She felt sick and the room slowly began to rotate with her.

“The things that I just explained.” Pinkie leaned even closer, those unblinking eyes burrowing even deeper into Applejack. She could feel Pinkie’s laboured, sweet breaths on her cheeks, while the pink mane obscured most of her quickly darkening vision. “Now, now, don’t be scared,” Pinkie whispered. “A scared witness isn’t a good witness. Just gather your thoughts, AJ. Help us help you.”

“I, uhm, I really don’t have any such thoughts.” Applejack gulped, wildly glancing around for some kind of escape. “I’m far too simple for these things,” she said in a blank voice.

“I see how it is.” Pinkie took a step back and her mane regained its puffiness. She continued in a more chipper, almost saccharine tone. “Come on, Jackie, I’ll help you out. Sparkle is a spy, that’s the base idea. Did you see any tiny itty-bitty thing about her that seemed suspicious?”

Applejack struggled to think. “N-nope, nothin’ at all, I swear it on my hat! Can’t ya get someone more qualified for this?” Pinkie’s sudden cheer unnerved her even more than the verbal assault she just experienced, now that she knew what a creature lay beneath that sticky-sugary crust.

“Nuh-uh! Tell me, what happened during your last visit?”

“Nothing spectacular.”

“I didn’t ask for ‘spectacular’.” Pinkie’s voice lost its life again, causing Applejack to shudder. “Answer the question.”

“Well, y’know…” It felt hard to even start. Applejack glanced towards the door, but Maud had closed it on the way out. Most likely locked it too. Applejack was completely at the mercy of her captor. She had to talk. “I’spose she was readin’ some books, when I stumbled upon her. Then I showed her around the Acres. Uhh, when we were goin’ back, some squirrels tried to steal her books an’ while we chased them away, she caught a nasty cold.”

She paused for a second, not willing to break her promise, but Pinkie—seemingly sensing that the story wasn’t quite over—continued to stare at her with those unblinking, inquisitive eyes. Applejack could almost hear those eyes saying One way or another, I will get the answer out of you. She felt horrible about it, but she wasn’t willing to find out what the “another” was.

I’m so sorry, Twi, Applejack thought to herself, before continuing. “I finally brought her home an’ she made me promise never to tell anypony that she got ill from chasing squirrels.”

“Very interesting.” Pinkie nodded, then pulled a small notebook and pencil from her mane and scribbled down a few notes. In the middle of writing she curtly looked up. “Are you entirely certain they were squirrels?”

“Why?” Applejack blinked a few times in confusion. “What else could they have been?”

“Many things, Applejack, many things,” Pinkie mused, before continuing to write. “Well, you just continue.”

“I had her placed into the guest room an’ gave her some hot tea, to warm her up, then—”

“Stop, stop. That’s enough,” Pinkie waved her off with the pencil, placing it along with the notebook back into her mane. “Okay, have you noticed anything suspicious so far?”

“Nothing at all.”

“Exactly!” Pinkie’s eyes closed in triumph, while a smug smile spread on her face. “See, spies never work suspiciously,” she lectured with gusto. “But that’s exactly what’s suspicious about them: That they aren’t suspicious!” She clapped her hooves together. “Do you get it now?”

Several emotions flashed through Applejack’s face, some of lingering worry, some of slight fear for Twilight and for herself, but mostly just flavours of confusion, until her expression ultimately settled into an utterly baffled frown. “Not in the slightest. So what you’re saying is that the pony who’s not suspicious is suspicious?”

“Yup!”

The proverbial apple hit Applejack on the head. “But, Miss Pie, as far as I’m concerned, I’m not suspicious either… and yet I ain’t no spy.”

A humourless laugh escaped Pinkie’s lips. “How are you so sure of that?”

“I… I’m a spy?” Applejack glanced down at her body. “Is that possible?”

“Many things are, Applejack. There are quite a few roles you could still stumble into, if you happened to lose your balance,” Pinkie replied, lost in thought. “Or perhaps your little sister or that wordsmith of a brother of yours. So many options. The Apple family is oh-so-versatile.”

Applejack had struggled to hold Pinkie’s gaze, but now stared back at her firmly, and much of what she had heard had felt like a league above her, but not this. There was a line she swore never to let others step over, but this overstepped it by a mile. She gathered all her remaining courage and bluster within her heart. “Pinkie Pie, look, I’m mighty sorry, I truly am. I really appreciate all you’ve done for me, but I’m not willing to help out with this. I’ve had enough. Send me home.”

“Oh, okay then,” came the uncharacteristically nonchalant reply. Applejack expected to argue, but instead Pinkie walked out from the room, locking the door behind herself and leaving Applejack behind.

Minutes passed, in silence, alone. Applejack’s eyes darted across the room. She looked at the balloons, the desk with things strewn over it haphazardly, the deflated pile, and she inspected even her own chair. She couldn’t help herself, something was very wrong and she already felt on the edge.

Suddenly a tile was quietly removed from the ceiling and three pegasi glided down from the darkness above. They casually surrounded Applejack without a word said between them. She sank as much into her chair as was physically possible while she caught glances of the intruders. Their limbs rippled from all the hulking muscles they possessed.

They took no notice of her as they stood around. One of them began to idly use a salt lick, while another passed an apple to his friend right in front of Applejack’s muzzle. He chewed and swallowed it in one fell bite, splashing a little of its juices on her.

The tension in the room was so thick that it could have been cut with a knife. There was only silence as Applejack continued to shrink in her chair.

Then the room’s door quickly burst open, and Pinkie Pie trotted inside again. One of her hooves was covered by a baking glove and she held a small tray of freshly-baked cakes on it. A content smile played on her lips as she hummed a little tune.

“Sorry, I totally forgot about my oven. Made some sweets,” she explained matter of factly, as she placed the tray in front of Applejack before turning to the pegasi. “Hey, what are you three party-poopers doing here? Why aren’t you leaving her be? That’s not how we act with friends in this house, haven’t I told ya enough already?” she snapped before turning back to Applejack and lowering her voice back to normal again. “You are my friend, right, Applejack?” she asked with emphasis.

Applejack continued to stay sunk deep into the chair. Without even looking at Pinkie, she slowly and silently nodded. Still not saying a single word, the three pegasi left through the hole in the roof, the last one taking care to place the tile back in place.

“Go ahead, pick one already.” Pinkie offered Applejack the sweets. Applejack still felt more than a little frozen from fear, but she had to comply. Slowly, she reached out mechanically and picked up a small biscuit.

“For now, all we’re asking from you, Applejack, is to gather your thoughts,” Pinkie said softly. “Nothing more.”

“I will,” came the flat and powerless answer. “But for now, please let me go back to my orchard. Disaster could strike any minute now.”

“Oh, don’t let me hold you up!” Pinkie held up her hooves with genuine shock on her face. “And don’t fret, Jackie. I’m always behind you… Always.” She smiled widely. “Don’t forget: Who isn’t with us, is against us. The pony who doesn’t trust us, doesn’t trust herself. And the pony that doesn’t trust our moonlit future is a stinky, no-fun traitor.”

“I, uh, thanks for the heads up,” Applejack stammered, before she stumbled out the door.

11. Life is no Marzipan Cake

By the time Applejack got home, the rest of the family was long asleep. She crept into her room and sat on her bed, but sleep evaded her. The biscuit she’d been given was still grasped in her hoof, and she held it up, staring at it. In a way the scene was quite similar to how the tragic hero of Pear Shake’s famous drama looked at the skull.

“The pony who isn’t suspicious… is suspicious. The pony that’s not suspicious… I don’t get it. Nopony’s suspicious. Everypony’s suspicious. How am I supposed to get the hang of this?” she groaned, as she idly played with the baked good.

Applejack didn’t notice how loud she spoke, because suddenly the door creaked open and Big Mac stuck his head in. “Is everything okay, AJ?” he asked.

“I just don’t get it. Am I really wearin’ a pumpkin for a head?” she asked bitterly.

“What happened?” Mac asked, as he stepped into the room.

“Twilight confessed,” came the grim answer. “Everything.”

“Everything?” Even in the half-gloom of the room, it was plainly clear that Big Mac’s cheeks became slightly redder than usual.

“Everything,” Applejack echoed, staring into nothing in front of her, not paying any real attention to him.

“I… uh… I… Darnit,” Big Mac mumbled. “She promised she wouldn’t.”

Applejack sighed deeply. “Mac, please don’t tell me you’re part of this whole thing.”

He tapped the ground with his hoof. “Well, it’s just that…” He trailed off.

“What?” She finally stared him down and Mac shrunk back a little.

“Well, you know, her and I…” His face became as red as a lobster.

Applejack still didn’t follow. “You and her?”

“We did… that,” he practically mouthed instead of speaking.

Applejack blinked in disbelief. “Stars… How did this all happen?”

“We were in the guestroom.”

“She was in bed.”

“I was in the bed too.”

“And…? Haybales, Mac, just spit it out already!” Applejack snapped at him. “I won’t think any less of you, but ya need to tell me how you’re part of this whole thing if I wanna keep ya out of trouble. Are you a Solar now too? What did you two talk about?”

“What? No, nothing like that!” Big Mac looked at his sister with wide eyes, before averting them and coughing. His ears flopped down. “We… Didn’t exactly talk either.”

“I’m losin’ my patience, Mac. What did you two do then?”

“She was shivering so hard, so I cuddled her,” the admission came quieter than a whisper. “We hardly even got into position when those bats came.”

“Uh-huh, so cuddlin’.” The gears turned slowly in Applejack’s mind. “And that’s all that happened?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s all.” He still wasn’t looking at her.

“Right.” Applejack didn’t feel entirely convinced. She knew her brother, she could see those little telltale signs that he wasn’t telling the whole story. “Did she seem any suspicious to you? Maybe mention somethin’ special?”

“Nnnope.” Mac held up his hooves defensively. “Whatd’ya mean ‘special’?”

Applejack sniffed. “Dunno, ponies, anythin’ like that.”

“She said she didn’t have a special somepony.”

That still left Applejack in the dark, with a sore heart in tow. She sighed and scratched her scar. At least it didn’t seem like anything untoward had occurred then, or that Twilight had let slip of anything incriminating. “Of course, of course. The least suspicious pony is the most suspicious one.” She sighed again, thinking. “That’s exactly what Miss Pie said is all. It’s just so confusin’.” Her eyes wandered over to the biscuit, which she idly hoofed over to her brother. “Go ahead, eat it, you need the sugar more than me right now.”

Big Mac quickly seized the opportunity to promptly excuse himself from the room, leaving Applejack alone with her thoughts. All the little creaks and noises of the farmhouse that usually lulled her into sleep just aggravated her. She tried lying down, but still she found no rest.

After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, Applejack suddenly felt very cold. Still not feeling any sleepy, she trotted down into the kitchen and lit a small fire in the oven.

She peered into the hypnotising dance of the flames and, ever so slowly, her eyelids became heavier and heavier. Pinkie Pie’s words echoed in her ears again and again until they faded into noise. Applejack blinked, then blinked again, this time a bit longer. Her eyes slowly closed and she didn’t open them again. A long snore left her lips. In her dream she saw spies acting completely inconspicuously and innocents acting suspiciously.

Meanwhile the oven continued to just burn and burn, until a spark jumped from the flames and landed on a bit of uneaten, dried out hay.

It smouldered for a few seconds, before it caught on fire properly, hissing and crackling, then quickly spreading from the hay onto the plate, then the wooden table, and then onto the planks of the floor. The smoke entered Applejack’s nostrils, and she frowned. In her dream the spies turned into fire… in a completely non-suspicious way.

The realisation that the heat that started to singe her coat was real struck Applejack like lightning and her eyes snapped open. Where once her kitchen stood, now she found herself almost completely surrounded by an inferno. All around her the room was painted in hellish colours of reds an oranges, illuminating the dusk with a daytime glow. She wasted no time and dashed through the hallway, bursting into Apple Bloom’s room and grabbing the filly out of her bed. On the way outside she screamed for her brother, who emerged seconds later, at first confused, but the grogginess immediately left his eyes when he saw the flames following close behind.

The three Apples rushed outside. Applejack wished Granny was still around to direct them. She was certain even a fire like this would be no match for the old mare. But with her gone, Applejack had to improvise. She told Apple Bloom to get some pegasi with clouds, while she and Big Mac rushed off to find buckets. Their legs strained from the tiredness and the speed they worked at, but they soon had to admit that the endeavour was fruitless. Two ponies were simply not enough. Regardless of how much they dumped onto it, no amount of water seemed to help, and the house continued to burn.

A bit later, Apple Bloom returned, sniffling and alone. As Applejack held her, the dam burst and she broke out in tears, whimpering into her sister’s coat how nopony was willing to come help them out. As she listened to her sister’s mewling, Applejack looked off into the distance, away from her siblings and away from the farmhouse. Her vision was just as blurry. It’s just the smoke, she told herself.

The Acres burned to the ground that night. The only silver lining that stopped Applejack from completely breaking down was the fact that her trees were all far enough to remain unharmed.

The next morning a carriage stopped next to the still-smoking ashes of what used to be the Apples’ home. Pinkie Pie positively exploded from inside, throwing her hooves around Applejack, grasping her tightly with all her might. With her came an army of pegasi, all carrying rain clouds of various shapes and sizes. Upon the nod of Pinkie’s head, they began pouring water all over the smouldering ruin, drowning the call of the early morning birds’ in a chorus of hissing and sputtering.

“Oh, Jackie, Jackie, I’ve heard the news. Awful, truly awful!” Pinkie’s tears near matched the downpour, as she then blew her nose into a large hoofkerchief with three balloons sewn into it, making noises that would have put a trumpet to shame. “See, that’s just how things are. The Solar-Lunar conflict is escalating. The Acres burned down. That’s just how things are, no use arguing it.” She furrowed her brows and looked around with suspicion. “But… Can we really be sure it was an accident?” she asked quietly.

“I’m darn sure it wasn’t,” Applejack replied with open ire, as she angrily eyed the eager crowd of late saviours toiling above. “Not a single pegasus was willin’ to help put it out.”

“I’m so sorry, Applejack.” Pinkie sniffed, while wiping her tears away. “Remember though, life is no marzipan cake. Pick yourself up. We throw pies in others’ faces and we get pies thrown in our own.”

Pinkie patted Applejack a few times on the back, then she gingerly pulled the farmer’s face up. She stared into her eyes. “Listen, I know it hurts, but this isn’t the end. The Acres will be rebuilt. It’ll be more Sweet and more Apple than it ever was.”

Applejack removed herself from Pinkie’s grasp and put a hoof behind her head. “Uh, I really appreciate that offer, Miss Pie, but the homestead is somewhat of a family heirloom, y’know? Wouldn’t really feel right to have it rebuilt by others.”

Pinkie, however, gently pulled her back. “Nonsense!” she said, beaming. “It’s the least I can do for such a good friend. We help each other out, right?” she asked with a tip of her head and a wide smile.

“As I’ve just told ya, I’d really prefer—”

“Right?” Pinkie asked again, rolling her R and staring deeply into Applejack’s soul.

Applejack huffed and turned away, but didn’t say anything. Pinkie meanwhile faced towards the now-soaked remains of where once the house stood. “Mmm, I can see it already in my head, it’s gonna be just great! ‘The Moon is the limit!’,” she quoted with an exalted look on her face. “Do you know who said that?”

Applejack sighed. “I could guess,” she replied sourly.

It was like things had turned upside down with the arrival of Pinkie. Ponyville, which used to be a perfect, textbook example of a town where nothing ever happened, suddenly became loud from ponies hustling and bustling, each moving with some real or imagined importance in their steps to help with the cause.

The Apples were temporarily relocated to the empty library in the middle of the town. Applejack wasn’t really a fan of the place. It’s not like it wasn’t cozy enough, despite its years of disuse. No, rather it was the slight stuffiness in the air, the old dusty books, and the warm but lonely interior of the great oak tree, which all reminded her of Twilight. Applejack could easily picture her diligently keeping all the books in order, while also fawning over whichever old tomes this library hid that to her would have only been hogwash.

Applejack smiled at the mental image, until Pinkie’s words rang again in her head and the warmth first faded from her smile, then from her body, and she shuddered. All the foalish idyll in the world could not change the facts.

Twilight confessed… everything.

What terrified Applejack the most was the fact that she didn’t quite understand what this just meant. What exactly did Twilight confess? Stars knew that mare was determined to go to Tartarus itself to return the Night Princess. There could be simply no way for her to betray Her Majesty now, could be? Something did not add up.

By the end of the week, Applejack grew to hate the Golden Oak Library and would have loved nothing more than to leave behind the rooms that always made her expect to see a purple mare pop up next to her at any second. But each time she tried, the two unicorns posted next to the library’s door just wordlessly shoved her back inside and, with Pinkie far away, Applejack had no other choice than to just bide her time and wait.

At least she had Bloom and Mac to spend her time with.

While Applejack faced her trepidation, Pinkie Pie held herself to her promise. Not only did she order the Acres to be rebuilt, she herself led the effort. Like a blur she darted between Ponyville and Canterlot, giving orders, organising, delivering various materials, and gathering a group of workers so great, others could have only dreamt of such a workforce.

“What do you mean we don’t have enough wood?” Pinkie screamed at one of the workers, stabbing a hoof into his chest, shaking the nearby forest to its core. The stallion winced from Pinkie’s overwhelming presence and shrunk back, but no coherent words came to his lips. All he could finally do was sputter and mutter a half-hearted apology, but Pinkie was unmoved. “I will have wood. Get wood, I don’t care where from. You’ll get me wood even if you have to grow it on a tree!” Pinkie finally stopped her relentless assault on the poor pony, who immediately seized the opportunity to scurry away. Pinkie stared after him for a few seconds, then scoffed, finally turning towards the rest of the crowd, who stared back at her mortified. “What’cha all waiting for? Hurry up, ponies! I will not argue this. Get more nails and tiles! Hurry! Hurry!”

Soon work ramped up to full speed and the new house quickly rose in height. Pinkie masterfully bent the workers to her will, overwhelming those who had big ideas with her presence, while rewarding others with sweets. She even cooked for the workers in a makeshift kitchen she crafted from the wreckage and nearby, unused planks to further improve the mood. Soon the smell of ashes was overtaken by the sweet aroma of her sugary delights.

The ruins were safely carried away by groups of unicorns and buried in holes dug by earth ponies, as groups of pegasi worked to bring in new materials. A few batponies loitered around in the crowd, their Moon-shaped pins glinting in the sunlight. Though they weren’t too keen on helping out, their slit-like eyes constantly monitored the workers and they were quick to descend on anypony deemed suspicious, taking them for a round of friendly questioning. But who could account for one or two disappearances during such cheerful and speedy work?

Work progressed so well, in fact, that the walls just kept getting higher and higher, with seemingly no end in sight. It was Applejack who, after being allowed to finally lay eyes on the house after a week of being stuck at the Library, finally had to ask Pinkie to tell the enthused workers to be so kind as to also make doors and windows on the building.

The end result was a little lopsided and certainly showed the artistic vision of at least ten different know-betters. What was once a building designed by necessity and practicality was now abstract art in the fullest, painted to three different, clashing colours, with annexes and rooms jutting all over the place. Applejack was certain her ancestors were rolling in their graves and that if her trees could feel shame, they would rid themselves of all their apples at the sight.

But, at the very least, the building was tall. It was so tall, in fact, that it reached the signpost that had been placed high above the worksite, which read: “The Moon is the limit!”

12. Maybe There Weren’t Real Books, but Actually Changelings

There was no point sugarcoating it, the flames and smoke may have subsided but their aftereffects could still be felt, and not just in the gaudy looks of the new barn—Applejack’s trees were sick and required immediate attention. Apple Bloom and Big Mac spent the whole morning hauling bucket after bucket of water into the orchard, washing down each tree individually.

Applejack meanwhile was in the process of tying a thick blanket around one of the already cleaned trees, before it could catch a cold, when suddenly a carriage landed next to her. One of its doors slammed open and Pinkie beckoned her inside.

Applejack looked at her, then at her tree and the half-tied blanket, then sighed. She threw down the rope and climbed into the vehicle.

“Where are we going this time, Miss Pie?” she asked, exasperated. Applejack could only hope the others would be enough to manage the situation. “Don’t you see my trees need me?” she asked with no real hope of convincing Pinkie to turn them back.

Pinkie, indeed, seemed to be preoccupied with something completely different. “Aw that’s a shame,” she said quickly, hardly even paying attention to Applejack’s words, before her face lit up. “But there’s good news, Jackie! Your testimony is ready! I’m super-duper excited myself,” she continued, bouncing with joy. Then she leaned closer to Applejack and shot her a conspiring glance. “There is one thing, however, I wanted to ask you. Please-please-please be kind to the author. Rarity is very sensitive… She’s a… well…” Pinkie swirled around her hoof, staring off into the distance as she looked for the right word. “A real artist-type, y’know?”

Applejack did not know, but she sighed and then nodded nevertheless. The carriage took off.

Whoever this Miss Rarity was, Applejack was sure she must have been one stuck-up pony. The chariot came to a halt next to a small hillside villa, which gleamed from the amount of glass and white marble used—Rarity’s retreat when she worked on a particularly important piece of work, Pinkie explained. Applejack wondered just how fancy her real home must have looked if this place was a mere ‘retreat’ to her. Loud birdsong filled the fresh air as a small brook babbled nearby, and, as the sunlight snuck through the thin cover of leaves of the trees cresting the decadent home, it fell on a small garden of statues which stood in front of the villa.

It was a veritable little Canterlot on its own and yet, unlike the bustling metropolis, they only found a single unicorn inside. A unicorn who was at the moment bent over a desk and grimacing like she was in deep anguish. A quill held by her magic scribbled with blinding speed on a parchment.

“Oh, Rarity! We’re here~” Pinkie sang, breaking the tense silence around the mare. “Are you ready yet?”

Rarity didn’t look up. “Pinkie, darling, look. I’m very happy to see you being so punctual as always, but this isn’t some dingy sweatshop. Please do sit down and wait for just a little while longer.”

They obliged her, Applejack and Pinkie sitting in silence while the quill continued its dance. The birds sang, the papers ruffled.

“Rares, you told us the date,” Pinkie spoke again after a few minutes.

“Still, Pinkie, sweetheart. Patience,” Rarity grumbled, while she kept on writing. “Art cannot be rushed. It is not as if I am making some mass-produced two-bit dress. My work takes time.”

Finally the quill touched the paper one last time, leaving a final dark dot. Rarity sighed deeply as her gaze lingered on the parchment for a few seconds, admiring her work. Then she looked up. “Ah, it is complete,” she sighed again in contentment. “Go ahead, read it.”

Her magic gathered the pages and floated them over to the others. “You know full well Pinkie Pie that I’m very strict towards the quality of my work. But this time I am completely certain I have outdone myself.” Rarity threw her mane back as her smile shone with self-confidence.

She took a good look at the pony sitting next to Pinkie and raised an eyebrow. “So I take you’re Applejack?”

“Yup, howdy.”

“Ah, I am so envious of you!” Rarity raised a hoof to her temple and closed her eyes, as she sighed dramatically. “Few are lucky to play their role with a script of this quality.” She quickly cleared her throat and composed herself. “Now go ahead, don’t be shy, just read.”

They began reading. Meanwhile Rarity stepped to a small cupboard nearby and filled a small glass with sparkling champagne, drinking it in one gulp.

“So, where are you at right now?” she asked nervously.

“The Changeling-squirrels,” said Pinkie without looking up.

“And… how do you like it?” Rarity’s voice wavered just a tiny bit.

“I dig it.” Pinkie nodded approvingly as she continued to read. “This is some unique stuff, Rara.”

“I rewrote it around five times,” Rarity replied with pride in her voice. “I simply cannot stand clichés. Please continue.”

Pinkie continued to read with surprisingly little fidgeting. Finally, she placed the stack of papers next to herself.

“Well?” Rarity asked with a hint of hysterics, almost appearing as if she was on the verge of tears.

Pinkie remained silent for a second or two before her face almost split in two from the wide smile that spread on it. “I simply love it!” she yelled, pulling Rarity into a tight hug.

Applejack was still reading through at a slower pace while the two were occupied with one another. She concentrated on some of the more complex words, but it was all for naught, she just felt completely and utterly lost. “So, uh, I’ll need to memorise all this?” she asked, red from embarrassment.

“Well you’re the star witness, aren’t you?” Rarity replied once she managed to tear Pinkie away from her. Her tail flicked with a hint of offence. “But go ahead, tell me if you don’t like something. We’re all friends here, I can take critique.”

Applejack cleared her throat. “Well, umm,” she stammered. “Look, I might be mighty outta the loop here, but honestly…” She pulled the paper closer to her eyes and reread one particular section. “I think it’s pretty apple-bucking silly to say that Miss Sparkle was writin’ secret messages into her journal.”

Rarity rolled her eyes. "Then what exactly do you think she was doing, dear?" she asked mockingly. “Staring at papers that the wind just so happened to blow there?”

“She was readin’ books,” came the innocent answer. “I know because I caught a glimpse.” Applejack’s face became even redder. “It was a love story about two mares.”

“Tsk! That’s all just useless, trite sentimentality. Who cares about these things?” Rarity waved with her hoof dismissively, before trotting back to the cupboard and serving herself another shot of champagne. “Anything else?” she asked after downing it.

“Well, it’s also not quite right that Twi— Miss Sparkle was discussin’ secret plans on how to bring down Her Majesty with squirrel-shaped Changelings.” Applejack scratched her scar. “I reckon she was merely chasin’ some actual squirrels.”

“Are you entirely sure they were actual squirrels?” Rarity’s words were slow and measured.

The question was so unexpected, that Applejack couldn’t answer for a second. “Uhm, no. How was I supposed to make sure?”

“See? See?! That is exactly what I am talking about!” Rarity snapped at her. “You have no idea, but you are still criticizing me!” She paced back and forth, her beautiful, white face darkened by inner turmoil. Finally she sharply turned back to Applejack. “Fine, if you really mind the book part, I could amend it, but the Changelings are an absolute must. What do you think, Pinkie?”

Pinkie, who until now sat in quiet contemplation, pounced next to Rarity and put a supportive hoof on her back. “Rara, please don’t take this the wrong way,” she began at a measured pace and placating tone, “I think your writing is super-duper nice and I love the idea about the squirrels. But maybe, just maybe, we could make a teensy-weensy change to the book part,” she offered carefully.

“Change?” Rarity cried, making no attempt to hide her offence as she scrunched her muzzle up and let out a small, hurt “hm”. “Fine! We’ll change it then!” she yelled dramatically. “But I’ve toiled enough. You tell me then what it should be changed to!” She stared at Pinkie expectantly.

Pinkie ran a hoof under her chin and let out a loud “Hmm”. In a flash a light-bulb appeared over her head, then popped out of existence just as quickly. “Oh, I know! Maybe this is silly, but how about this,” there was a pause for dramatic effect, “maybe the books themselves weren’t real books, but actually Changelings. Their plan was to get actual squirrels to carry them to safety.”

Rarity’s mouth fell agape, as she stared at Pinkie. A moment of silent shock later, she shed a tear. “Pinkie Pie, my good friend, there is a writer of unparalleled skill lost in you,” she said, sniffling in admiration. “Have you ever considered picking up the hobby?”

“Ahh, too little time for it.” Pinkie shrugged, smiling. “Not to mention, some of us are much better here than me anyways,” she said with an encouraging wink.

“Oh shush.” Rarity smiled back at her. “Very well, Pinkie, I’m convinced. I shall make the change.” She turned to Applejack. “Anything else?” she asked, her smile gone and voice full of gravel.

“No,” Applejack replied instinctively, before checking herself. “That is, uh, yes, there is.” She found herself fiddling with her hat. “This, um, part about sendin’ magical parchments in the guestroom… I might remember it wrong, but I saw Miss Sparkle shiverin’ from the cold, so I told her to lay in bed in my guestroom, under some thick blankets.”

“So what?” Rarity rolled her eyes. “Can’t a pony write upon parchment while under blankets?”

“Beg pardon, Miss Rarity, but I know, um, other things happened in there. You see, my big brother was under the blankets too. He an’ Miss Sparkle, well, you see…” She cleared her throat. “There wasn’t any parchment involved.”

“Ew!” Rarity turned her head away in abject disgust. “Is that really the sort of thing you want to say about your family? Pure debauchery!” she spat.

“I only told him to put a bit of life into her,” Applejack bleated.

“Tsk! Some sister you are! I will not give my name to this,” Rarity hissed. “Any other issue?” she asked with open hostility.

Before Applejack could have answered, the noise of leathery wings flapping filled the air. Pinkie Pie and Rarity looked at each other, then both jumped to attention, while Applejack slowly clambered to her hooves. A chariot pulled by two batponies and surrounded by several more of them descended from the sky. Sitting atop it was Nightmare Moon herself.

The Princess graciously stepped down from the vehicle, while her guards dispersed to secure the perimeter and give the group privacy. Pinkie and Rarity bowed, followed by Applejack herself giving an awkward bow a second later.

“Greetings, Your Majesty!”

“Stand up,” she ordered them, before turning to Rarity. “So?”

“It is ready, Your Majesty.”

“We shall be the judge of that. Let Us see it then.”

The alicorn began to read. Suddenly her starry mane flared up and her pupils contracted. She stomped the polished rock floor, which cracked slightly from the impact. “What is the meaning of this treachery?” she bellowed. “These conspirators don’t even want to banish Us back to the Moon anymore? Explain thyself!” Her eyes shot lightning towards Rarity. The Princess lowered her voice to a whisper and leaned closer to her shivering face. “Are thou perhaps insinuating that We are worth horse manure?” she whispered slowly.

Rarity somehow became even whiter than she already was. A bead of sweat rolled down her pristine brow. “No… That is not… I just… I didn’t want to repeat myself… The last trial…” She quickly took control of her growing hyperventilation. “I have not practiced enough self-critique, Your Majesty,” she said with sudden adrenaline-fueled smoothness. “How about this? ‘The perpetrators intended to banish Your Majesty immediately after toppling the Royal Court’?”

The mane snuffed out, the pupils dilated slightly. “Indeed, much better,” the Princess said with an approving nod. “Otherwise We are quite pleased with thy work. Thou art skilled with the quill.”

“I like it too!” Pinkie inserted herself into the conversation. “Many sleepless nights went into it, Your Majesty. Absolutely no clichés!” she beamed.

The Princes, however, was less than impressed. Her head turned towards Pinkie, whose smile quickly froze on her face. “Colonel Pie, We believe We have not asked for thy opinion. Thou should practice humility,” the Princess lectured her.

Pinkie deflated like a leaky balloon. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied meekly. “Absolutely, completely humble Pinkie Pie reporting.”

“Humility,” Nightmare Moon repeated wistfully, staring into the distance. “If there is one thing We appreciate in Ourselves, it is Our humility.”

It was a touching moment. For a few seconds everypony present contemplated the Princess’s wisdom and humility in commemorative silence. Suddenly the alicorn regained her senses and stared at Applejack. “And who is this serf?”

“Her name is Applejack, Your Majesty,” Pinkie explained. “She is our star witness.”

“We see. We trust that thou hath the skills necessary?” Nightmare Moon flashed a firm glance towards Pinkie. “It would be quite a displeasure to Us, if We were to be disappointed.”

Applejack felt like this was the moment she was looking for. She carefully cleared her throat and stepped in front of the Princess, taking off her hat. “Your Majesty-ness, I really am mighty sorry. But quite honestly… Well… I’m not nearly good at all this ideological mumbo-jumbo. Y’see, I’m really just a simple farmer.”

The Princess peered at her and she furrowed her brows. Her already dark face darkened by a few further shades. “Most peculiar. We are quite certain We have seen thy face before,” she said with growing suspicion.

“Your Majesty is correct!” Applejack tipped her head to the side. “You’ve had me locked in prison after the misunderstandin’ at the Spa and then again at the Fun-park.” She tipped her head to the other side, as she continued to babble. “Then ya gave me an award durin’ the Tomato harvest. It’s quite something how often we run into each other!” She paused, realising whose time she was taking up and her hooves clamped down on her hat for support. “Beg pardon, I’m wastin’ your valuable time. What I really meant to say is that I feel mighty rotten about this whole thing… I never wanted to be a witness.”

“Thou didst not?” The Princess looked absolutely baffled. “Why art thou here then?”

“I’m not quite sure either, Miss Majesty.” Applejack placed her hat back on her head and reached back with one hoof, scratching her ever-itching scar. “I should be at my orchard, tendin’ to my trees. They’re quite sick.”

The Princess turned sharply towards Pinkie.

“Colonel Pie, thy invitation to Our ire will not remain unanswered.” Despite the lowness of her voice, it was completely overwhelming. Even though she wasn’t the pony addressed, Applejack suddenly felt like it was hard to stand on her hooves as a gale of cold wind and starfire tried to knock her off balance. The sky itself darkened as the Princess’s body seemingly began to grow. “We demanded a completely willing witness from thee, didst We not? The trial will not proceed like this!” she snapped, baring her fangs.

Both Pinkie and Rarity wilted under her looks. The two mares collapsed on the ground and hid their faces behind their hooves.

“Incompetents,” The Princess scoffed, as she beheld their pitiful groveling. Her aura of terror dispersed and she turned away, before speaking without looking back. “Consider thyself lucky We feel merciful today.”

“S-should I just throw all of this away?” Rarity sniffed, struggling with tears, as she stared at her manuscript.

“We are least interested in the matter,” the Princess replied coldly. “Do not contact Us until thou has procured Us a real witness. Now We shall take Our leave.” She stepped back on the chariot, which quickly took off along with the rest of her retinue, leaving three destitute mares.

Pinkie collapsed on the floor rigidly. Her long mane fell on her, completely obscuring her face. Rarity’s tears pitter-pattered freely against the ground. “Should I just throw all of this away?” she repeated her question, this time asking the floor tiles between two sobs.

A few seconds later Pinkie Pie stood up with mechanical slowness. She trotted over to Rarity and gave her a long, weak hug, face still hidden. “Well, I guess this is it. See you around, Rara,” she croaked, after heaving a sigh and a tattered little laugh.

Rarity stared back at her with abject horror in her still tear-filled eyes. “P-Pinkie, darling, y-you can’t be serious! Are you leaving us?”

No words came from her, just a weak nod, along with a broken smile under her ocean of mane and a defeated shrug. Pinkie began to slowly make her way towards her carriage.

Applejack jumped up like she’d awoke from a daze. As she ran after Pinkie, she glanced towards Rarity, who paid her no heed as she was too busy crying over her manuscript. “Wait for me, Miss Pie! Don’t leave me here!” Applejack yelled as she ran after her, jumping into the carriage.

“To the rock farm,” Pinkie gave the order from behind her mane to the ponies pulling the vehicle. Applejack meanwhile tried her best to come up with a good apology.

“Miss Pie, really I’m very-very sorry! I honestly didn’t want anythin’ bad to happen.”

Pinkie let out a sad, indifferent “hm”, so Applejack continued her attempts. “I didn’t want you to get admonished by Her Majesty. I really had no idea this was such a big deal! I just simply don’t want to get Twi in any more trouble!”

But Pinkie didn’t show any sign of listening, nor caring if she did. She pulled out a small parchment, which, to Applejack’s horror, appeared to be her last will and testament, and began to read it.

13. Miss Pie, Why Is It So Bright In Here?

The rock farm wasn’t the most cheerful place even on the most beautiful days of Summer. Unlike the lush greenery common to everywhere else in Equestria, Pinkie’s hut stood on a dull grey expanse under a dull grey sky, the only points of interest being slightly differently dull grey rocks which peppered the landscape as far as the eye could see. Silence reigned, broken only by the occasional anguished whistle of gale-like wind.

Without saying a word, Pinkie passed one of the cartponies her will and got off the carriage. Applejack followed her as quickly as she could.

“Miss Pie! Where are you going?”

Pinkie didn’t bother to look back. “To my old, new home,” came her cold reply.

Applejack looked around again. The scene was still just as tragic as before. “But there is nothin’ here.”

Pinkie still didn’t look at her. She stared forwards with a vacant gaze. “It’s no use, no use at all,” she muttered under her breath.

Applejack hurried in front of her. “Miss Pie, don’t tell me… Is this all because of me?”

Pinkie didn’t look back at Applejack. She simply shook her head a little, then continued trotting on. “No, not just you. You ponies are all a heartless, no-fun bunch. I sacrificed so much for you, but you really don’t deserve it. You… You…” She turned around to face Applejack and paused for a second looking for the word. Then it suddenly just exploded from her. "You bunch of meanies! Forgive my Prench."

With stiff steps she trotted inside the hut, which to Applejack appeared like a gathering place for ghosts, due to all the furniture covered in white sheets. Pinkie began removing these, starting with the one that covered a small sign saying “Home, Sweet Home” in blocky black letters on a blank white backdrop.

Pinkie stared at the sign grimly. Her sharp blue eyes reflected in the glass, giving the illusion of her glaring at Applejack. “Well, I suppose it really is for the better if I just stay here,” she murmured.

Applejack stepped closer to her. “Miss Pie, please don’t do this. I know you an’ I didn’t always see eye to eye, but please don’t self-exile yourself because of me. Please, at least before ya make the choice, explain things to me, maybe I’ll understand a little what’s goin’ on,” she pleaded.

"The ‘thing’ going on is the truth." Pinkie’s words rang like hammer-strikes in the silence of the hut, causing Applejack to shudder. “The truth which ponies are trotting on this very moment.”

“I didn’t mean to trot on any truths,” came the quiet defense. Applejack took off her hat and held it against her chest. “It’s just that I’ve seen with my own eyes how—”

Pinkie spun around and stared daggers at her. “Oh, so you’ve seen with your own eyes? I just cannot believe you’re still singing this same song.” Her voice was just as quiet, but obliterating. As she continued her tone and volume rose with each word, until she was almost whining as she stormed closer to Applejack. “The things you see with those blind eyes? What you hear with those deaf ears? And what you think with that empty head of yours? Are any of these more important than the truth? Our truth?” Pinkie jabbed a painful hoof into Applejack’s chest through her hat.

Applejack winced, then opened and closed her mouth a few times. The hat, still pinned against her, crumpled slightly in her hoof. “No, I just… I’ve known Twilight for a mighty long time. If I didn’t know her… Well, I mean, it would be much easier to be a witness to her guilt like that.”

“Guilt? Is guilt what you need?” Pinkie Pie laughed sharply, causing the windows of the hut to rattle and Applejack to wince again. She removed her hoof and took a step back. Her irises were shaking as she stared into the lowest depths of Applejack’s very soul. “Who isn’t guilty here?” she rumbled lowly. “Show me one single mare, stallion, colt, or Moon-forsaken filly in Equestria whose guilt I couldn’t prove in five minutes. Yours, mine, everypony’s!”

Applejack remained silent for a few second mulling her words over. She unfurled her hat and placed it back on her head. “That might be,” she quietly said as she fiddled with it to get the angle just right. “But still, Miss Pie, please don’t exile yourself here.”

Pinkie suddenly gained some spring in her step as she marched across the room. “It’s not the time for moralising, AJ. It’s the time for action. Less talk, more do.” Her mane was still pointing towards the ground as she spun around and threw an accusatory hoof towards Applejack. “For instance, one thing I could easily ‘do’ is leave you here in my place.”

Applejack nodded. “I suppose you could.”

“Or give you a mean bump on your head.”

“Beg pardon, Miss Pie, but somepony already had that idea,” she replied touching her scar.

“I could make you eat sweet pickles or snort water… or hug a cactus,” Pinkie listed coldly.

“Ouch.” Applejack shuddered from the mental image. “Please don’t,” she begged.

“If those aren’t to your liking, I could just as easily not give you any food,” Pinkie continued to thunder, undeterred.

Applejack’s stomach rumbled in protest. “That sounds like the worst option yet.”

Suddenly Pinkie’s tense stare softened and she stepped next to Applejack, putting her hoof on the mare’s shoulder in a much gentler manner. She moved her mane out of her eyes and looked deeply into Applejack’s own. Her quivering irises were frosty and opaque, like a dead mare’s. “But I’ve never been bad to you, Jackie, have I?” she asked weakly. “I only ever gave you fun things to do because I thought you were one of my bestest friends and that I could count on you for any task. Not because you expected anything in return, but because you knew what you were doing is right. That our work is for the good of Her Majesty and her subjects.” She let Applejack go and looked away, continuing in a hushed, croaking tone. “But now I’m very disappointed in you. I don’t even want to be friends anymore… with anypony at all. That’s why I’m leaving Equestria behind.”

Applejack’s heart ached as she stared at the wreck in front of her. Her lips quivered, as she tried to find the right words to say, but nothing came to her mind. She closed her eyes and breathed in, gathering her resolve. Then, finally, she breathed out and hugged Pinkie. “Miss Pie, I will never disappoint you again,” she said firmly. “You can count on me.”

As Pinkie stared at Applejack’s back behind her hug, her disheveled expression and quivering eyes were nowhere to be seen. A satisfied smirk slowly crept on her face. “Jackie, you’ve given me back hope,” she whispered with cloying sweetness, while her eyes above her wide grin burned like hot coals. “Thank you.”

By the time the two mares returned to the carriage, Pinkie was bouncing again like usual. They got in and Applejack began to loudly muse. “But if Twilight really confessed…”

Pinkie rolled her eyes. “What now?” she asked with a slight edge of annoyance in her voice.

“Well, it’s just that… Can’t I talk to her? I’ll be your witness an’ all, I swear it on Bloomberg’s apples. It’s just…” She scratched her scar. "If I could talk to her… " The words she was looking for were evading her. “Things would be different.”

“Oh, Applejack, Applejack. You should have just told me so before,” Pinkie admonished her lightly with a smile and a boop on the nose. “If that’s all you ask for, you’ll get to meet your Twilight.”

Pinkie knocked a few times on the wooden frame of the carriage and it sharply turned to the left. They made several more hazardous turns, before coming to a halt in front of a lone, dilapidated building inside a forest. Its crumbling brickwork seemed to be only held together by the will of the Stars and the creeping vines intertwining between the cracks, but Pinkie paid this no heed. She beckoned Applejack inside and the two trotted up a rickety staircase.

They found themselves in a dim hallway covered in dust. An unnerving silence filled the air, broken only by the quiet clops of the duo’s hooves as they made their ways through the corridor. It felt like everypony but them had disappeared and they were the only ones left in a world of silence and emptiness. The darkness of the hallway weighed heavily on Applejack’s back and she was about to comment on this when they came across a deeply reinforced door at the floor’s end.

“And we’re here,” Pinkie said nonchalantly, completely unaffected by the desolation around. She produced a key from her mane and inserted it into the door’s lock. The mechanism opened with a hollow click and the door slowly swung open to reveal a painfully white room on the other side. Its walls, floor, and even ceiling glowed like one was staring into the Sun. A sole lavender blotch lay in the middle, contrasting heavily with the overwhelming blank whiteness around.

“There you go, Jackie,” Pinkie said, pointing her hoof theatrically, as if she was giving a gift. “Here is your Twilight Sparkle.”

Applejack peered into the cell and her eyes began to water from the harsh light inside. “Miss Pie, why is it so bright in here?”

“Because it’s a cell for Solars, silly. They just looove the Sun,” she explained with a giggle. “It’s all about the practical joke.”

“I see,” Applejack replied flatly, as she trotted inside.

“Well, I don’t wanna interrupt the heartfelt moment so I’ll be back in a bit. Have fun you two!” Pinkie closed the door on them, its other side painted just as white as the rest of the room.

Applejack trotted closer to her friend. She felt weird to walk on pure whiteness, like she was hanging in the air, only her hooves still felt she was standing on a floor.

“Twi?” she asked quietly.

No reply.

“Twilight?” Applejack asked a little louder. “Are you awake?”

The mare in front of her stirred. She slowly turned around, but her eyes remained closed. She furrowed her brows as she tried to focus on the voice of the newcomer. “Leave me alone!” Twilight whined. “I’ve already told you everything I know! I’m innocent!”

“Twilight,” Applejack called out to her softly. “It’s me, Applejack. You know, from Sweet Apple Acres.”

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence in the room. “Oh… Hi.” Twilight took a careful step forwards in the whiteness. Her unseeing eyes glanced around looking for Applejack.

“This way, Twi,” Applejack gently guided her, until the two finally stood next to each other. She gently touched Twilight’s hoof to show she was right next to her.

After a moment of silence, Twilight shakily began, “So, uh, how are things at the Acres?”

“The trees are sick. I’ve just been—”

“Okay, sorry, no. That’s not what I wanted to ask,” Twilight cut into her words. “It’s just… AJ, when did they get you?” she sobbed, almost choking on a tear. “I thought letting them drag me here would satisfy them.”

Applejack coughed awkwardly. “Oh, I, uhm. They didn’t. I’m only a witness,” she replied flatly with bitter shame in her voice.

“A witness?” asked Twilight. “A witness to what?”

“To your case,” Applejack said quietly, then sighed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to, Twi. I really didn’t, please believe me. I’ve got no choice.”

The two fell silent for a few seconds. “I see. Well, then why are you even wasting your time here? To rub it in? Go be a witness,” Twilight lashed back coldly. “What am I supposed to do? Congratulate you?”

“I would, sugarcube, but that’s just the thing. I simply don’t believe the whole thing. That’s why I came here to talk.”

“Well, you’re here now.” Twilight’s words rang even emptier and colder than before. “Talk.”

“I don’t know what to say, that’s the issue! This whole thing is weirder to me than a pony with no fur.” Applejack face flushed red as she struggled to find the right words. Twilight’s blind, hateful glare stung her far worse than the glow of the room. “You tell me what’s going on. I don’t believe a word of what they told me about you.”

“Y-You really don’t?” Some hope crept into Twilight’s voice, but her body remained tense.

“Consarnit, Twilight, of course, I don’t! I’ve known you for years!” Applejack was almost yelling. Her voice hitched and she continued far quieter. “You an’ I’ve been… Y’know… Am I really supposed to throw you to the pigs or what? Please tell me what’s going on. I’ll trust what you say.”

Twilight turned around and began pacing. Her stare softened and her chapped lips pulled into the hints of a flimsy smile, which disappeared just as quickly. Applejack tried to follow her with her eyes, but even the few minutes she spent in the whiteness had them starting to hurt, so she instead followed suit and closed them as well.

Suddenly the quiet clops came to a halt. Applejack felt Twilight approach her and take her hoof into her own, lightly squeezing it. Twilight’s hoof felt cracked and unkempt, like she had been forced to walk miles upon miles. “Look, AJ, there is a reason why I’m here. Perhaps not a good one, but a reason nonetheless.” Twilight whispered softly before letting out a dry, heaving chuckle. “A pony can be guilty even without knowing it herself.”

“I get it.” Applejack nodded, her eyes still closed. “That is, I don’t get it at all. You’ve always been so good, Twi, to me… to everypony. An’ I was there with you at the Acres! I saw no Changeling-books, secret parchments, or you wantin’ to bring down the government.” She fell silent for a second trying her hardest to wrack her brain for answers. “We just had a fun afternoon, didn’t we?”

Twilight sighed deeply. The sounds of droplets hitting the floor broke the ensuing silence. Each little impact felt like a full-force kick to Applejack’s barrel.

“Does any of this matter?” Twilight finally asked. Her voice was nasal and deathly tired.

Applejack burst out, “How could it not?”

“What matters is for me to be found guilty. The court is changing and I didn’t notice it in time… Or maybe I just tried to see the best in ponies. I guess it’s a little too late to guess.” Twilight snorted humourlessly. “Whether out of fear that I might have something against them, greed, or simply spite, whichever pony decided that I’m out also figured I don’t deserve a peaceful retirement either,” Twilight explained, letting go of Applejack’s hoof and stepping away from her. She let out a pained laugh. “To think ‘who isn’t against us is with us’ would turn into this… It was so much easier fighting the Solars from behind their own lines.” Her voice hitched, as she struggled with her tears. “Let’s face it, AJ, we’re all just pieces in a great and terrible board-game.”

“Even you, Twi?” Applejack’s words rang with true bewilderment. “Then what could I say about myself? I’ve got a real bad feelin’ in my bones about this whole thing. Aren’t we gonna get in trouble?”

“Trouble?” Twilight sighed again. “Oh, AJ, I’ve always found that naive optimism of yours so endearing.” A mirthless chuckle left her lips. “But no, ‘getting in trouble’ isn’t what I’m worried about. The fact that you’re here now means we’re already both deep in it. I’ll be happy if you get out of this in one piece. There’s nothing you can do, so just don’t worry about me… Do whatever you must and save yourself if you can.”

Twilight inhaled, wanting to say something else, but before she could the cell door squeaked and opened again. Applejack turned around and opened her eyes. She could hardly spot Pinkie, who stuck her head inside through the dark spot on the wall. “Sooo, I hope you two enjoyed your time together. Come Jackie, we have to go now.” Under her bright smile and chipper voice, Applejack felt the very real possibility that Pinkie would lock the door on her if she didn’t heed her words.

With too much left unsaid, Applejack trotted over to Twilight and pulled her into a deep hug, planting a silent kiss on her forehead. As Applejack leaned back, Twilight opened her tear-soaked eyes and the two looked at each other for one long moment.

Then, Applejack turned around and did not look back as she followed Pinkie outside. The darkness of the hallway felt insignificant compared to the darkness that brewed inside her. The two of them sat inside the carriage again. It was almost surreal to see colors again too. Applejack felt like she would have gone mad if she had to spend any more time inside that cell, which only made her heart hurt all the more for Twilight.

“So, Jackie, are you satisfied now?” Pinkie asked innocently, breaking Applejack away from her thoughts. “How about I report to Her Majesty now that you’re ready?”

We’re all just pieces in a great and terrible board-game, Twilight’s words echoed in Applejack’s mind. Do whatever you must and save yourself if you can. A few drops of tears glinted at the edges of her eyes, but she nodded with a tired smile. “You can report whatever you want,” she said weakly.

“Woo-hoo, that’s the spirit! I knew I could count on you!” Pinkie hoofbumped the air, before knocking on the chassis and turning back to Applejack. “Say, have you ever been to an Apple-shooting contest before?”

The name of the event struck fear into the weary farmpony’s heart. “N-no, never.”

An impish grin spread on Pinkie’s face. “Well,” she said coyly, “then it’s about time for you to see one.”

14. We Should Tell Them We’re Not Actual Apples!

The carriage stopped at another secluded spot in the forest. The two mares disembarked and began moving deeper inside, while the pegasi remained behind, lazily pulling out a deck of cards to play.

Applejack felt her legs tremble a little as she walked behind Pinkie. She was already on the edge from her encounter with Twilight and now she saw the silhouette of a unicorn ready to shoot behind every tree, only to realise it was merely a trick of the light. “Please, Miss Pie,” she whispered, while chewing the inside of her mouth. “Tell me they ain’t gonna shoot at me.”

“What?” Pinkie stared at her for a second, utterly dumbfounded, then the realisation suddenly dawned on her and she burst into laughter. “Oh! No! Jackie, you and your fanciful imagination… What sort of ponies do you think Her Majesty’s court are?” Her chuckles slowly died down. “We’re civilised folk here! It’s a contest for unicorns about shooting at actual apples,” she explained as they continued to walk forwards. “Nopony’s getting hurt!”

“Oh.” Applejack’s face went completely red and she suddenly found the foliage around Pinkie very-very interesting. “I… uh… I knew that.” Pinkie merely snickered in response, before turning around and continuing to lead the way.

Time passed and eventually Applejack couldn’t hold her tongue anymore. “Miss Pie, please, just tell me one thing,” she said carefully.

“What is it this time?” Pinkie asked with a tired sigh. Applejack noticed how, every time she tried to start a conversation, Pinkie’s cheerful mask seemed to slip a little.

“I know I don’t know much else other than apples, but this in particular really doesn’t fit in my head.” She scratched her neck. “What’s the point of this all? I mean—”

Pinkie stopped in her tracks, but did not turn around, causing Applejack to fumble her words and fall silent. A cloud passed overhead, obscuring the rays of sunlight penetrating through the canopy, leaving the two mares in gloom. A wave of cold wind blew through the trail they followed, bringing an unnatural cold despite how balmy the air previously was. Sensing an aura of danger, the loud serenade of birds faded out as well, leaving a deathly quiet in its place.

“Applejack,” Pinkie said quietly behind her mane, without any hint of her usual bubbliness, “I’m warning you one last time, if you have second thoughts, lose them. I’m trying to be really-really-really nice here”—with each ‘really’ her voice rose in pitch till it nearly snapped, only to go back to normal immediately afterwards—“but if you keep on meddling in my plans, you’ll soon wish I didn’t pluck you from prison the first time you had the brilliant idea of going against Her Majesty’s law.”

Applejack gulped. “Stars above, that’s not at all what I meant!” she said quickly. “I just can’t reckon why you need to put Twilight on trial if ya already think she’s guilty. I didn’t get no trial either an’ that was fine with everypony.”

There was a beat of utter silence. “Agitprop,” Pinkie replied flatly.

The thought of how one props a git flashed through Applejack’s mind for just a moment, but something told her she should not ask about it. “I don’t understand,” she admitted.

“It stands for ‘Agitation propaganda’,” Pinkie turned around and explained. “Y’see Jackie, all those clever little tricks we pulled helped, but our ponies are still far too worried and jittery.”

“But ain’t ponies plenty agitated then already?” The cogs started to slowly turn in Applejack’s head, but she still felt like she missed some crucial detail. “What good could rilin’ them up more bring?”

“The issue is that instead of blaming it on that Sun-bleached traitor, they have the gall to claim Her Majesty’s police are too harsh.” Pinkie’s face flushed a shade of red as she spat the words with unmasked rage. She scoffed and turned away her head, the color quickly draining from it. As she turned back a second or two later, her cheeks had already become the usual pink.

Applejack pursed her lips, unsure if she should say her thoughts out loud. “It’s, uhm,” she stammered, “a bit hard to blame anypony for that, Miss Pie.”

Pinkie scoffed. “Who would guess that the criminal mare isn’t a fan of cops?” she asked with a tip of her head, causing Applejack to go red.

“B-but Miss Pie, you’ve given me an apple too,” she protested.

“Excuses, Jackie, excuses.” Pinkie’s words were cold and judging.

Applejack fiddled with her hat. A quick glimpse at Pinkie’s face told her not to press this particular topic further. “I’ll be honest, I still don’t see how Twilight comes into the picture,” she said instead.

“Simple, if our ponies see that not even those near Her Majesty are safe from scrutiny, they’ll be much more content with their lives. It’s not them, the poor folk, that the bats are out against, but rather those traitors that try to sow the seeds of the Sun Tyrant’s malice, from the dingiest towns right up into Canterlot itself.”

Applejack slowly nodded. “I’spose that makes sense, but still… Why Twilight in particular?”

Pinkie rolled her eyes in annoyance. “I dunno, bad luck. She messed up, you messed up, it’s a good opportunity for a show. It’s none of my business what the Crown decides is treason.” Her voice turned a bit warmer and she stared into Applejack’s eyes. “Believe me Jackie, I don’t have anything against her personally. As far as my files show, she’s been an exemplary agent to our cause for many years.” Her voice became cold once more. “But I do have Her Majesty’s enduring rule in mind, and if it has been decided that Sparkle is a traitor then I won’t stop until everypony knows it for a fact.”

With that, she turned around and began trotting ahead. Applejack slowly walked after her, her head dizzier than before. A great and terrible board game, she thought.

They continued in silence. The clouds above began to break apart and allow light in once more.

A little while later their quiet stroll was interrupted by the telltale noises of magic bolts whizzing by in the distance.

“Those poor apples,” Applejack muttered, sighing. “What a waste.”

“I know ya feel a real kinship towards them, but you’re being far too sentimental again, Jackie,” Pinkie, who had in the meantime regained the spring in her step, admonished her with a giggle. Before she could continue, however, a bolt darted out from the foliage and singed a curly lock on the top of her head. Another flashed past them, followed by one more, which set a nearly branch on fire with blue flames that magically extinguished themselves a few seconds later.

The two mares threw themselves on the ground, seeking cover in the tall grass. “Miss Pie, I understood what you said, but still, it seems to me we should tell them we’re not actual apples after all!” Applejack yelled. She glanced around but couldn’t see their assailant. “Should we throw something back at them?”

“Are you crazy?” Pinkie screamed back, her pink coat turning completely white while her eyes jumped all over the place. “How can you even ask such a thing? What if we hit somepony important? Have you considered for just a second what they would do to us then?”

Applejack hadn’t and she wasn’t about to start. “Well, I’m just thinkin’ we should really give them some kinda sign, so they stop shootin’ at us,” she explained calmly. “But you’re in the know-how here.”

The shots meanwhile continued relentlessly.

“I just hope Mac and Bloom will be alright, if I end up out of commission,” Applejack muttered.

Pinkie heard none of it. She alternated between covering her eyes or her ears, while her tail flicked like crazy, stirring up dust.

“Thank the Stars, they haven’t hit us yet,” Applejack continued her meandering train of thought. “I’m pretty surprised though. Her Majesty and Co. are such good shots otherwise.”

Pinkie still didn’t react. She pulled herself into a foetal pose and began to mutter. “Sweet Celestia, please save me from this mess… Oh, Sun Princess, I regret everything… I’ve done a lot of bad things, but I’ll be a good little pony, just don’t let them get me…” Her words slowly tapered off into incoherence.

Suddenly the barrage stopped and the Night Princess appeared. She was surrounded by her entourage whom aimed their horns at the duo, tips burning with spells ready to fire. Nightmare Moon measured up the two ponies cowering in the dust in front of her. The deep frown on her face spoke of how she expected a slightly nobler harvest. With a roll of her eye she held up a hoof and her followers stepped back, then dispersed. The moment the three of them were left alone the Princess sighed with tiredness that was unbecoming of her.

“Pie,” she addressed Pinkie with unmasked frustration, before glancing towards Applejack. “And her troublesome little serf. What do We owe the pleasure to this time?” Her tail whipped the ground behind, while her nostrils flared. “We ought to have you both thrown in the dungeons. Canst We not enjoy Our free time in peace?” she asked exasperated while raising her voice.

Pinkie jumped to attention, her coat immediately recovering its colour as she smiled widely. A small cloud of dust formed around her while her foreleg snapped into a salute. Only a twitching muscle on her face betrayed her panic from before.

Applejack stared at Pinkie in disbelief. Seeing her forced grin and the tenseness in her body sent something akin to a stab into Applejack’s very being. Her eyes went wide with the realisation, as she came to understand even Pinkie wasn’t above being a piece. A great and terrible board game, came Twilight’s words echoing in her mind once more.

“Your Majesty, I report Miss Applejack has agreed to act as star witness, without coercion, entirely on her own voluntary choice,” Pinkie rattled off, the same unnaturally wide smile still plastered on her face. “We can proceed with the trial.”

“Colonel, I warn thee, We have had quite enough of thy games,” the Princess boomed, kicking the dirt with an armored horseshoe.

They continued their little back and forth theatrics, but Applejack wasn’t listening. She didn’t even notice that she slumped to her haunches as her mind was too busy hopelessly trying to comprehend the depth of the situation. Where does it all end? she asked herself again and again.

Applejack shot a furtive glance towards Nightmare Moon’s posturing and incensed words towards Pinkie. She wasn’t sure if she merely imagined it or not, but these too seemed to be just a little tense and artificial, like the Princess herself was vary of somepony or something lurking just outside her vision. Is there somepony even Her Majesty has to answer to? The thought alone horrified her, but what scared her even more was the fact that she couldn’t with a good heart say that she considered the possibility implausible.

Applejack was ripped away from her mounting dread with a shock as Nightmare Moon turned sharply towards her. “Speak, does she say truth?” she asked while cocking an impatient eyebrow.

“Y-Yup, Your Majesty-ness.” Applejack jumped up and nodded fiercely, hardly even understanding the question, while she scrambled to collect her racing thoughts. “I’m, uh, trying to be better an’ make up for my mistakes.” She chuckled awkwardly. “Would’ve been a damn shame, if you shot us now,” she said in a low voice.

The Princess smiled, her white, nail-like teeth glinting in the late afternoon Sun. “Such is music to Our ears.” Her pupils contracted, granting her the look of a predator staring at her freshly downed prey. “We are quite pleased with thy choice. Carry on with the work.”

To give the occasion its weight, her horn burst into flame and she shot between the two mares. A gigantic apple on a tree behind them blew into wet smithereens, partly raining apple juice over them both. Everypony present behind her stomped on the ground politely.

15. Pickle Berry Kumquat, Chimicherrychanga!

The carriage was once again in Canterlot. Pinkie and Applejack were thrown wildly left and right as the cartponies continued to defy all laws, Equestrian or physical regardless, and forego any common sense when it came to driving.

Suddenly the cart came to a halt and the two mares almost smashed into the front wall from the inertia. “Well, here we are!” Pinkie announced as she marched out of the vehicle, completely unfazed by the ride. Applejack followed a bit behind, her legs like jello and steps uncertain. Pinkie turned back and tipped her head to the side. “What’s wrong, Jackie?” she asked with baffled innocence.

“J-just a bit of daze,” Applejack replied weakly, her cheeks puffing out before she forced everything back down again.

Pinkie snorted. “Oh, psssht, you’ll get used to it. Come, come, we have an important pony to meet!” As soon as Pinkie finished speaking, she immediately turned and continued bouncing towards a nearby building.

As usual, Applejack didn’t really notice anything out of ordinary about the place, except perhaps the fact that it seemed to be a bit taller than the other houses around it. A few others walked past, paying no heed to either Pinkie or her. Applejack couldn’t help but find it grimly ironic, how nopony else realised just who she was with. She stared at Pinkie’s back, both to stop her own eyes from spinning and in a vain attempt to make heads or tails of her.

She really does seem like she wants Equestria to prosper, the thought struck Applejack as her lips pulled themselves into a tight frown. But at what cost? Below the crust of that cheerful bounce in her steps and her saccharine words, she clearly wasn’t above using ponies to further her own goals or throw them into prison left and right. For all it was worth, Pinkie was just as dangerous to Her Majesty’s subjects as the enemy she claimed to be fighting, if not even more so. To think ponies like her could hide in plain sight. The thought made Applejack frown even deeper, but what was there for her to do about it? She followed her inside.

As soon as she got used to the dim lighting within, a grimy stone staircase revealed itself, which snaked up around the edges of the building as far as Applejack’s eyes could see. The chipped crimson safety rail spanning up the endless flights looked like it could snap from a firm gaze, so Applejack made sure to stick to side nearest the wall instead to avoid the possibility of falling down the gaping central shaft.

While she slowly climbed, Pinkie was already waiting for her on the first turn, positively shaking from excitement. “Come on! Come on!” she yelled excitedly. Then, to Applejack’s complete shock, she cartwheeled right up the steps. Applejack ran after her, but it was impossible to keep pace with the pink menace.

Pinkie abruptly came to a halt on a seemingly random floor and turned towards one of the doors on the landing. She casually trotted up to it and knocked.

“Yeah, yeah, who is it?” a raspy voice yelled from inside.

“It’s us!” Pinkie yelled back with a grin.

“Oh,” the voice rose in sudden recognition. “Yeah, sure, come in!”

The duo entered into an extremely messy office. The walls were hardly visible from the amount of posters plastered on them, all advertising either the old Wonderbolts or the new Shadowbolts. The floor was littered with boxes of half-eaten takeout and workout equipment, including dumbbells and jumping ropes. A small elevated platform was tucked away at the end of the room, its surface largely free from the mess around.

At the other end of this chaos stood a small but just as disorganised desk with a blue pegasus sitting behind it, who rested her hindlegs on top of it. She nonchalantly rocked back and forth on her chair, whistling an inane tune. Applejack had to double take as she looked at her mane and tail. All the colors of the rainbow made themselves manifest on them both, giving the mare an absolutely extravagant look even when she was just lazing around.

Upon noticing their arrival, her chair tumbled and she began to fall backwards, but before she could have hit her back, she gave herself a push with her wings and flew up in a wide loop, landing in front of them and striking a pose.

“Sup, Pinkie,” she said with a wide grin. “So who’s this?”

“Heya, Dashie, this is Applejack. She’s our witness,” Pinkie explained. She also produced a stack of papers from her mane, which she passed over to the mare. “And here’s her testimony.”

The blue mare turned over to Applejack. “Heya, I’m Rainbow Dash, but you can just call me RD.” She gave Applejack a firm hoofshake. “Here’s what’s gonna happen: I’ll be your coach for the next few weeks, and by the end you won’t even recognise yourself you’ll be so good. Probably not as good as me—” she said with a satisfied smirk “—but still pretty good.” Rainbow cleared her throat and looked back to Pinkie. “'Kay, Pinkie, we best get going. What sorta character did you have in mind for her?”

“Up to you, Dashie. I don’t want to influence your work,” she replied apologetically.

Rainbow, however, wasn’t sold. “Seriously? No idea at all?”

“Dashie, you’re much better at this than me.”

Rainbow groaned a little and rolled her eyes, though she began to smile again. “Eh, fine. I guess it’s up to Rainbow ‘Awesome’ Dash, that’s R.A.D., to save the day.” She quickly flipped through the testimony. “Right… Right… Uh-huh… Huh… Fancy. Rarity really didn’t spare the frills.” Rainbow looked up. “How about we make some fancy-schmancy noblepony out of her? Her family was close to the throne, but she got disillusioned with the Solar rule and…” She took another look at Applejack. “Hmm, nah. Not her style. Plus it’s kinda uncool. How about keeping it simple?” she muttered to herself, loud enough to be heard clearly. Her hoof knocked against the floor a few times in frustration. Suddenly, her eyes went wide-open. “Oh yeah, I know! A simple filly of Equestria’s countryside! Curious, easy to surprise. Worked her entire life, no pointless theatrics or loose ends.”

Pinkie’s head almost popped off from how enthusiastically she nodded. “Yes, yes, that’s exactly it! Dashie, you never disappoint.”

“Thanks, Pinkie.” Rainbow flashed her a cocky smile, then they both turned back to Applejack. “Okay, star witness, let’s hear something from you.”

“Uhm, what exactly?” Applejack asked, her stomach suddenly tying itself into a knot. She had never known she had stage fright, but then she’d also never had to get on a stage before either.

“Dunno, anything! Just make it cool!”

“Ooh, I know!” Pinkie chimed in. “Say this very fast ‘Pickle berry kumquat, chimicherrychanga!’” She words slipped out of her flawlessly, without the slightest hint of effort.

"See, that’s cool!" Rainbow nodded in approval. “Now your turn!”

“W-what?” Applejack was still at the “pickle” part.

“Pickle berry kumquat, chimicherrychanga!” Pinkie repeated, just as easily.

“Pickle berry- Uh, pickle berry, what now?” Applejack furrowed her brows, but the words scrambled around her mind like a flock of unruly cows and she had no hope of wrangling them in.

The other two looked at each other with slight concern in their eyes. Rainbow sighed. “This is gonna take some time, isn’t it?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

Pinkie put her hooves together begging. “That’s why I’m asking you to do this, Rainbow. I wouldn’t trust any other pony to prepare her for the trial as you could.”

The addressed mare visibly glowed from the praise. “You know what, Pinkie? You’re right. I won’t leave you hanging, this is going to be a great challenge. Just the thing for me!” She hoofbumped into the air. “Let’s get this pony into shape!”

“What’s wrong?” asked Applejack. “I’ve read the testimony an’ I don’t remember any words bein’ as difficult as these.”

“Nah, but if you can’t remember four words, what hope do you have to learn five pages?” Rainbow asked with a roll of her eyes. “Okay, let’s begin with the basics. Say this: Prancing pretty ponies.”

“Uhm, prancing pretty ponies.”

Alright, she could at least remember the words this time, surely this couldn’t be that bad. Her small triumph, however, was short lived.

“Faster!” Rainbow said loudly.

“Phrancing phretty phonies.”

“Faster!” came even louder.

“Phrancing fretty phonies!”

“Come on! Even faster!” Rainbow was practically yelling.

Applejack closed her eyes as she put all her concentration into saying the sentence.

“Francing fretty fronies!” she sputtered.

Rainbow looked at Pinkie then back to Applejack. “You either have the strongest accent I’ve ever heard or you have a lisp.” She pouted. “Both are totally uncool.”

“I have a what now?” came the dumbfounded question.

“It means you can’t say some letters properly,” Pinkie interjected helpfully.

“I’ve never heard that from anypony before.” Applejack’s tone was tinted with a hint of offence.

“Well now you have!” Rainbow crossed her forelegs, holding herself up with her wings.

“An’ is that such a big issue?”

Rainbow paced up and down a few times. “Well, we’ll just have to live with it.” She sighed. “Okay, right, whatever, we’ll make it work.” She turned back to Applejack. “You understand your role at least, right? You’re a simple worker, perhaps a single foal, and you’ve been miserable all your life.”

“I ain’t a single foal an’ I ain’t miserable,” Applejack replied with an indignant huff. Her ear flicked in annoyance. “I have a very lovin’ family.”

Rainbow facehoofed. “Ugh, look, it doesn’t matter! It’s a role, just pick something! The point is you have to sell that you’re somepony easily impressed and that you’ve been loyal to a pony your whole life, only for them to turn out to be full of it. Got it? Go up to the stage and start reading.”

Applejack trotted to the end of the room and climbed the short ramp. She then took the first page into her slightly shaking hooves and began reading. “It was about fifteen years ago that I first became the acquaintance of Twilight Sparkle.” There wasn’t even a hint of acting in her voice. She read with the same enthusiasm as one would a tome of law. “A mutual friend introduced her as an illegal Lunar, who needed a hidin’ place for herself an’ her followers—”

“Totally uncool!” Rainbow interrupted her droning monologue. “I didn’t mean you should speak like you’re reading. Go on, but with a bit of—” she twirled around her hoof, looking for the word “—fire.”

“Yeah, Jackie, stick it to the mare!” Pinkie yelled in from behind.

Applejack furrowed her brows. “At the time I had no idea that in reality she was an agent of the Sun Tyrant herself an’ a mole sent to undermine the Night Princess.”

“Stop,” Rainbow interjected, with a flap of her wings. “Here you should be fuming. Like, you know, strike a pose, be real cool! Come on, one more time and without the paper.”

“At the time I had no idea…” Applejack blinked a few times. “At the time I had no idea… Uhh… What exactly did I have no idea about?” she asked, scratching her head.

There was a beat of silence in the room.

“Pinkie, I take it back. Training her like this isn’t a challenge, it’s a race with both your wings tied.” Rainbow’s scratchy voice was filled with despair. “We have to do something with her before I can work my magic.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, Dashie.” Pinkie nodded solemnly. She took her chin into a hoof, thinking for a few seconds. “Hmm. Yeah, it’s time to visit the doctor, Jackie.”

The trio left the office. While Pinkie and Applejack began to trot down, Rainbow dramatically threw herself from the staircase railing, which groaned from the sudden weight. She shot down through the shaft, her wings flaring open at the last possible moment and stopping herself from smashing into the ground floor. Applejack watched with with her mouth hanging open, while Pinkie clapped eagerly at the spectacle.

Once again they found themselves on the street. Pinkie’s carriage seemed to have left in the meantime, but she didn’t at all appear surprised about the fact. They began to make their way through the street. Applejack didn’t really have anything to say to the others, so she occupied herself with looking around in the meantime.

A faded poster on a nearby wall caught her attention. Though its underside was tattered by the merciless march of time, Applejack could still make out the fierce batpony glaring back at her on it. The mare pointed an accusatory hoof towards the viewer with her fangs bared, while she brandished a fearsome halberd in her other hoof. In large calligraphic letters standing imposingly next to the figure was a worrying threat:

You,

In the shadows lurking,
Horseapples seeding,
Counter-revolutionary,

Beware!

Applejack shuddered a little at the sight. She was no counter-revolutionary and the only apples she seeded were proper and honest ones, and yet all this mess began because of the visit from the Night Guard. She sighed quietly.

“Something the matter?” Pinkie asked, shaking Applejack from her reminiscing.

“N-no, Miss Pie,” Applejack stammered. “Just got a bit lost in some thoughts. Let’s go.”

They continued in silence until they came to a halt at another nondescript door of a far smaller building. It appeared to be a singular home. A small red cross was painted on its front wall, with a paw-print in white in the middle. This time Pinkie knocked much more quietly.

“I-it’s open! C-come in!” an extremely timid voice called from inside. “Just be careful when you enter!”

As soon as the door was opened, the sounds of animal cries filled the street. Applejack flinched from the noise and closed her eyes while she trotted inside.

“Okay, everyone, please listen. Be on your best behavior, we’re having guests.” The words were hardly audible through the various calls and screeches, but despite this, suddenly the room went silent.

Applejack opened her eyes and her heart almost stopped. She found herself in a small white-tiled clinic, which was absolutely chock-full of animals. Herbivores and carnivores intermingled, snakes hung from the furniture, rats and mice scurried between their hooves. Birds perched on the cabinets surrounding the walls. In the corner of the room a cow was lazily munching on some grass, as it lounged on a rough blanket.

Surrounded by her veritable little zoo, a butter-hued pegasus smiled sheepishly at the newly arrived. “Hi, Pinkie, hi Dash,” she greeted them, before turning to Applejack. She tipped her head to the side and shifted back a little. “Um. Hello…? I don’t think I know you.”

“Heya, Flutters,” Pinkie greeted her. “I brought a friend along for a quick exam, I hope you’re not too busy. You know, she is a witness,” she said with a conspiring smile, tapping the testimony in her hooves.

“Oh, no. For you, Pinkie, I’m always available,” Fluttershy said with a small smile, placing down a mouse she’d been cradling in her hooves until now and taking the papers from Pinkie. “Okay, everyone, please give us some space. If you don’t mind, that is,” she gently addressed the animals, who slowly crawled, walked, or slithered out of sight, giving way for Applejack to move closer.

“Howdy, I’m Applejack,” she introduced herself, holding out a hoof. The pegasus shuddered from the sudden movement, before she extremely lightly shook it.

“I’m… um… It is nice to meet you, Applejack. I’m Dr. Shy, b-but I guess if you’re Pinkie’s friend, you can call me Fluttershy.” She fidgeted for a second before pointing at a metal table behind herself. “Please take a seat t-there.”

Applejack sat on the cold surface and shivered.

“Um, I feel like you should know, I-I’m not a medical doctor.” Fluttershy bashfully clacked her hooves together. “I’m really more of a veterinarian. As you may have guessed already.” She softly coughed. “But, um, ponies and animals aren’t that different, so I-I’ll do my best!” she added in a hurry with an awkward smile.

Thus began the long procedure. Fluttershy inspected all of Applejack’s hooves, her mane, looked at her scar, looked into her ears, listened to her heartbeat, and even made her stick out her tongue. “In terms of physical health, I really can’t find any issues,” she told Pinkie. “Except for that nasty little scar, but sadly it’s far too old for me to do anything with it.”

“That’s alright, Flutters! It’ll help sell the character anyways,” Pinkie beamed. “Thank you so much for your work!”

Fluttershy accepted the praise with a small smile and nod.

“Now test her memory,” Rainbow interjected, snickering into her hoof.

Fluttershy tipped her head to the side in surprise. “Um, a-alright, if you want me to.” She turned back to Applejack. “Please repeat after me: Peas, unicorn, paperclip, chestnut, apple tree… It’s not too many, I hope. Your turn.”

Applejack slowly blinked. “Uhh, apple tree,” she finally said.

Fluttershy smiled. “From the beginning, please,” she asked in a soft voice.

“Apple tree.”

“That’s… all you remember?” Her smile wavered a little.

Applejack scratched her scar and blinked again. “Afraid so.”

Fluttershy sighed and raised a hoof to her temple, massaging it for a second. “It’s okay,” she said sweetly, with a giant measure of patience. She turned towards the others. “I understand the issue now.” Her tone became surprisingly firm. “Pinkie, Rainbow, please leave her to me. I know what to do.”

“Hah, if ya say so.” Rainbow stretched her sore limbs and began trotting out. “Just call us once you’ve done your thing.”

“Yup, see you soon Flutters, Jackie! Good luck, you two! Bye-bye!” Pinkie waved enthusiastically, before leaving herself.

Fluttershy placed a blanket on the table. “Please lie down here.” Applejack climbed up and laid herself down. The pegasus gave her another blanket and a pillow. “Okay, um, can you fall asleep by yourself? Or should I… um… sing you a little song? That usually works for my bunnies,” she whispered, turning tulip red.

“Naw, thanks, I’ll manage.” Applejack placed her head on the pillow and turned to her side.

Meanwhile Fluttershy took the testimony into her hooves. “Ahem,” she cleared her throat lightly. “It was about fifteen years ago that I first became the acquaintance of Twilight Sparkle. A mutual friend…” she read slowly and softly, stressing every syllable.

Before she could continue, Applejack’s loud snoring filled the quiet of the room. Fluttershy’s animals looked at the pony, but she could only shrug. She began again, almost imperceptibly louder, “It was about fifteen years ago…”

Time passed and Applejack improved at an exceptional pace. By the end of the third week she spent cooped up in Rainbow’s dingy little flat, she could recount her entire testimony from memory and even her country accent was reined in a little.

Both Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash felt satisfied with her progress to such an extent that they decided to allow her to go home for a day before the trial to get her into as good spirits as possible before she were to bedazzle the audience.

It was late at night when the carriage finally arrived to the edge of Ponyville and dropped her off. Applejack felt dazed from the constant drills and speaking exercises she had gone through the past few weeks. Looking into her eyes, it was clear that though the light was still on, there was nopony home.

Her hooves had gotten used to the stone floors of Canterlot, so as she stepped on grass once more, the experience felt more alien than welcoming. She hardly even noticed, as she absentmindedly trotted into the Acres, that her siblings were still outside and still tending to the trees.

It was Winona’s excited barks that first shook her a little from her stupor, though she dozed right back afterwards. She passed the dog, who whined a little upon not even receiving a pat on the head for her troubles. Hearing the commotion, Apple Bloom poked her head out of the orchard and upon noticing who’d arrived she left her work behind and ran out.

“Sis! Ah’m so happy to see you!” she greeted Applejack. “Look we tried real hard, but we really need your help.”

Applejack didn’t hear her. “It was about fifteen years ago…” she muttered under her breath. “That I first became the acquaintance of Twilight Sparkle… A mutual friend introduced her as an illegal Lunar…” She trotted past her little sister, who stared at her completely dumbfounded.

“Wha’? Uh, Applejack?” she asked, but the mare just continued to amble forward. “Y’alright? It’s me, Apple Bloom.”

“Pickle berry kumquat,” Applejack droned. “Chimicherrychanga. Pickle berry kumquat… Prancing Pretty Ponies…” As she walked, she almost bumped into Big Mac, who in the meantime had noticed Apple Bloom’s absence.

“Applejack! Did they let you go finally? The trees are still sick,” he said, relief mixing with worry in his voice. “We need more blankets and a lot of water, can you help us out?”

Applejack stared at him like the two had never met before. “Yeah, that makes sense. The intercreatural situation is intensifying after all,” she mumbled, her eyes staring somewhere into the distance.

“What?” he balked.

“Life isn’t marzipan cake,” Applejack noted just as flatly.

“Cake?! What are you even talking about?” he hissed. His face flushed to a darker shade of red. “The trees are sick!”

“Trees? What trees?” Those unseeing eyes turned towards him.

“Your apple trees!” Unlike ever, Big Mac raised his voice and his usually stoic face twisted into a dark scowl.

Applejack blinked a few times and looked around.

“Huh,” she muttered. “Something really isn’t okay around here.”

Just as the words left her mouth, she promptly fell unconscious and collapsed in place.

16. Is Your Honour Deaf Or Something?

And so, Applejack didn’t even realise at first that the night had passed and it was the day of the trial.

Early into the morning two carriages stopped next to the Acres. Applejack, who had since been dragged into her bed by Mac, was woken up by her door flying open as ten ponies squeezed themselves into the room, surrounding her and securing the premises. Only slightly embarrassed by the sudden audience, she slowly wiped the drool from her mouth and crawled out of her bed with a horrifying case of bed head and a pounding headache.

Upon seeing her state, the leader of the group quickly suppressed a mare-like yelp and graciously gave her a few minutes to freshen herself up. Amidst fervent apologies as she shoved herself through the group, Applejack stumbled out into her bathroom and glared into the mirror. The terror that stared back at her prompted her to take fast corrective action—which she did by messily splashing a bit of water on her face. Once she looked merely terrible instead of outright tragic, she was led by the guards into one of the carriages waiting outside, which took off the moment she got in.

The cart flew like never before, as if it were chasing time itself. What took a train a good hour, it did in twenty minutes.

With a loud screech it came to a halt in front of the Royal Courthouse. Applejack peeled herself from the front wall of the carriage and then stumbled out, hooves shaking and heart beating in her ears from the bumpy ride. She took a few deep, calming breaths, then looked around. She finally noticed where she was.

She whistled in amazement as she stared at the gigantic arches and columns that held up the building’s roof. Long banners fluttered in the wind, the emblem of the Moon sewn into them glinting from the early light of the Sun. The courthouse towered over the rest of the street, as if the building itself watched over any and all criminals with the never-sleeping eyes of law.

Applejack probably would have gawked for a while longer, if the carriage’s door didn’t slam open, with a hoof pointing towards the top of the stairway in front of her. She gave a nod and began walking up the long set of stairs leading up to the entrance, wondering how the lawponies could afford to be so fat when they had to climb so many steps each day.

Finally, after a minute or two of firm climbing, she reached the landing. Pinkie Pie was already waiting outside, nervously pacing back and forth. The moment Applejack appeared, Pinkie immediately sprang and hugged her, nearly sending the two tumbling down.

As she returned the hug, Applejack noticed how Pinkie’s mane seemed to almost shine in the early morning light and her coat seemed to be even pinker than usual. Despite her skittishness, she flashed a huge smile at the soon-to-be-witness.

“Oh, Applejack, I’ve been waiting for you for such a long time!” Pinkie broke out, her voice wavering with anxiety. “Big day for us all, isn’t it?” She finished her question with a short, high-pitched giggle that rang false to Applejack’s ears. “Is everything alright?”

Applejack frowned as the memories of the previous night flooded back into her mind. “Not exactly, Miss Pie. My trees are seriously ill an’ I couldn’t really do anythin’ about it. An’ I couldn’t even say goodbye to my lil’ sis or brother properly before y’all dragged me here.”

Pinkie’s smile fell. She cleared her throat awkwardly. “These are not exactly the sweetest times.” She nodded along in sympathy, before looking deeply into Applejack’s eyes. “But we’re not giving in, are we, Jackie? You know, life is no marzipan cake.”

“I know.” Applejack’s frown became even deeper.

Pinkie walked around and inspected her from all angles. “Jackie, why are you looking so…” She paused looking for—and failing to find—the polite word as she beheld her tragic state. “Messy?”

Applejack blinked a few times. “I’m not sure what you mean, Miss Pie,” she replied slowly. “I look like I always do.”

The edge of Pinkie’s lip quivered. “Mhm, exactly the issue,” she pushed out, before shaking her head. She looked back at Applejack with determined eyes. “Well, we can still fix this. We’re not giving up. We didn’t spend weeks on nothing, this is our… no, this is your day.” She gave Applejack’s flank a playful, encouraging spank. “You have to look the part too!” she said, before turning towards the imposing gates. “Let’s go!”

Pinkie led Applejack into the building, and the splendour within was even greater. As they walked over a deep purple carpet leading them deeper inside, statues depicting lawponies of old stared back at them from both sides, their firm expressions and dark stone eyes staring deeply into Applejack’s soul, looking for the slightest hint of guilt. She glanced back nervously, suddenly feeling less like a witness and more like the suspect.

Instead of walking up the staircase at the end of the chamber, the duo stepped off the carpet and entered a small side-room. A grim looking batpony guard stood at the door. The mark of a pair of scissors cutting into colorful fur was on his otherwise dull midnight-blue flank. Pinkie beckoned him inside too.

“Sergeant Shears, this mare requires express cleaning. Right here, right now. Get your stuff ready,” she ordered him. He turned towards the door to get his equipment. “And remember, cleaning only, no shaving. I expect no more incidents,” Pinkie yelled after him, then turned to Applejack, who was staring at the unfolding scene with wide eyes.

“Uh, Miss Pie, what was that all about?”

Pinkie waved dismissively. "Oh don’t worry about it. Do you want to go over your testimony one more time?

“Nah, thanks. Rainbow beat it into my head plenty well enough.”

Pinkie shook her head. “Come on now, Jackie, a little repetition never hurt anypony,” she said, putting emphasis on her words.

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine, I’spose I could give it one last glance. I did have a mighty rotten night after all.”

Pinkie reached into her mane and stirred it around, pulling out a stack of papers, which she quickly gave to Applejack, who began reading it.

“Remember Applejack, all you have to do is give the audience a super memorable testimony.” Pinkie’s eyes glinted as she intoned the words.

Applejack meanwhile continued to read, understanding less and less. She flipped to the last page and scratched her scar, then flipped back, when realisation suddenly kicked in. “Miss Pie, beg pardon, you’ve given me the verdict.”

“Oh, whoopsie-daisy,” Pinkie facehoofed with a nervous giggle, before taking the papers from the mare and stuffing them back into her mane. This time she fished out the right package. “All these sleepless nights, you know? We got four legs, yet even we stumble occasionally,” she said to nopony in particular.

“True enough,” Applejack agreed with a nod, then delved into the papers.

But before she could properly settle in, the door opened and Shears entered again. He was carrying a saddlebag with various creams, ointments and a sponge sticking out. In one hoof he was carrying a bucket full of water.

“See, Jackie, we’re not afraid of a lo— a little grime. Ahem,” Pinkie cleared her throat. “Well either way, good luck you two, I still have some things to prepare.” On the way out Pinkie turned towards Shears again. “Once again, cleaning only,” she said in a low tone, browns furrowed before leaning even closer and almost whispering, “She’s one of mine and if a single hair of hers is bent the wrong way I’ll make sure to squeeze in a private disciplinary hearing. Understood?” With that she left the room, leaving Applejack alone with the guard, who stared at her intently.

Without saying a word he packed out his equipment and stirred a foam. “Put those down, before they get wet”—he nodded towards the papers Applejack was holding—“and stand here.” She complied and the guard began working the thick mixture into her mane and coat.

A minute passed in silence, broken only by the squelches of foam, when Shears suddenly broke the silence. “Do you use anything to keep your coat so soft?” he asked.

Applejack shrugged as much as she was able to as Shears continued to work on her coat. “Nah, just water and a lot of fresh air outside.”

“It has a beautiful texture,” Shears mused loudly. He playfully ran a hoof down one of Applejack’s locks. “Mm, I bet it would make a nice sound when cut.”

“Umm, what do you mean by that?” Applejack started to feel slightly uncomfortable from his enthusiasm.

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” he said quickly. “Please just relax.”

Soon Applejack was covered from head to hoof in foam, making her appear like a pony-shaped cloud with emerald eyes. Shears was about to reach into the bucket with the sponge to clean her off, when the door opened again and two other ponies entered.

Applejack blinked, thinking the foam made her see things. But no, as much as she closed and opened her eyes, it was no trick of the soap—the ponies who slowly made their way through the door and smiled cheerfully at her were still the same. Blood rushed into her head.

“Flim and Flam!” she yelled, taking a thundering step towards the angelically smiling duo. With measured movements and a strong grip, the guard pulled her back.

“For Her Majesty’s sake, stop moving! You’ll spill the water,” he said.

“What are you two no-goods doing here?” Applejack asked, now fuming from a safe distance.

“Oh, Applejack, ever so dramatic! Don’t be so upset, we’ve no quarrel with you,” Flim replied.

“Mm-yeah, we’re just here to do what we already said we would,” his brother continued.

“You expect me to remember what you two rotten swindlers said?” she spat from under the layers of puffy foam. “Your words are worth less than mud, 'cause that at least lets things grow in it.”

“If you continue to struggle, the soap will get in your eyes,” Shears interjected quietly. “I will take no responsibility.”

“Exactly, Applejack, exactly. Listen to the nice guard. You should learn some calmness and manners. We’re here the same way as you are…”

“You could say you and us are partners in this! We’re witnesses as well!”

This hit Applejack straight in the heart. She was glad to be covered in foam, so her quivering lips couldn’t be seen. “That… That can’t be,” she muttered.

“Well, you better stat believing it, dear!”

Flam raised a hoof to his mouth as if he was telling a secret. “Yup, there are things only ponies like us could testify,” he mock-whispered.

Applejack shuddered as the guard began scrubbing her down with cold water. “Enough with the bad jokes, you two,” she said half-heartedly, as the foam was methodically removed from her barrel. “This really isn’t the occasion. I’m plenty nervous already.”

Before either of the two could reply, a serious looking unicorn trotted into the room through another door. “Witnesses Flim and Flam,” he called.

“Present!”, “That’s right, we’re here!” they yelled energetically and waltzed past Applejack to follow him into the room. “See you on the flipside, dear Applejack!”

Applejack and the guard were left alone again. The cold bath continued, but Applejack felt none of it. Her mind was too clouded to bother registering the icy stabs.

A little while later the last of the foam was scrubbed off and Shears covered her in towels. He placed one of them in her hooves too, so that she could dry her face. “Well, my duty is done. Please leave the towels around here to dry once you’re finished. I’ll pick them up later. Good day, Ma’am.” He turned towards the door. “Real shame about the coat,” he added under his breath.

For the next few minutes Applejack was left alone with her thoughts and her many-many towels. She finished drying with mechanical motions and then stared at the papers on the table. She slowly picked up the testimony again, though she felt like the miniscule amount of conviction she had built up until now had crumbled. Not that it mattered anyway, as before she could read even a word, Pinkie reentered the room.

“Miss Pie,” Applejack addressed her coldly as she looked up. “Did you have any idea that those two wretched unicorns, Flim and Flam, would be here too?”

Pinkie froze a little at the pointed question. “Yes, I did know,” she said with a small frown. “So sorry about it, Jackie.”

Applejack didn’t reply nor seem too convinced, so Pinkie continued. “Those two meanies really got you roughed up last time and that is not okay.”

That finally got Applejack’s attention. “Huh, do you know them, Miss Pie?” she asked raising an eyebrow.

“I know many ponies, Applejack,” Pinkie replied slowly, then sighed. “But those two in particular are hard to forget.” While her mane slowly deflated, she stared deeply into Applejack’s eyes. They glinted with genuine hurt. “They sold me some bad candy back before I found my place here in Canterlot.” She began pacing again.

While she turned, her mane flicked out of her face and, for only a second, Applejack saw Pinkie’s face twisted into a scowl and her vacant eyes shaking from rage. “I don’t entirely know how and what it did to me, but I can’t really eat anything much but candy since then, or I’ll start feeling super-duper sick. Realising that wasn’t my cheeriest day either,” she droned lifelessly.

Applejack sighed and her body relaxed, her anger towards the mare evaporating in a heartbeat. “I’m mighty sorry to hear that, Miss Pie,” she said with sympathy.

Pinkie came to a halt and sighed, throwing her mane out of her face. The face under it seemed endlessly tired for a second, before she settled on a more neutral expression. She shrugged. “Believe me, if it was up to me, those two would never see the Sun, let alone the Moon again.” Her gaze hardened briefly, then softened again just as fast. “But the intercreatural situation is intensifying and my hooves are bound. What you or I want is secondary right now,” she said, her voice lacking its usual conviction. “We’ve no time to cry over our spilt chocolate shakes.”

There was nothing more to say, so the two continued to look at each other in silence. Suddenly the strict-looking unicorn entered again. “Witness Applejack,” he called, before disappearing behind the door.

Applejack took a careful step towards the door, but then stopped. “Miss Pie, I’m feeling sick,” she admitted. “My stomach is twisting on itself like a snake who’s tryin’ to become a pretzel.”

“Oh, come now, don’t let a bit of stage fright get to you, Jackie,” Pinkie replied, regaining her usual demeanour. “Breathe deeply a few times.”

She did. “I still feel just as sick.” She groaned a little in pain.

“Witness Applejack! What are you waiting for? We expect your testimony, now! Come already!” The unicorn raised his voice a little, as he stuck his head inside again.

“She’s going, she’s going,” Pinkie replied, while she grabbed the papers from the mare’s hooves. “Good luck out there, Jackie! I’ll be there in a moment to cheer you on!”

She gave Applejack a gentle shove and the mare stumbled out into the courtroom.

It took Applejack a moment to properly comprehend just where she was. As she blinked around, hooves still shaking a little from anxiety and nervousness, the details of the room slowly revealed themselves to her. She saw dozens of pairs of expectant eyes staring back at her.

Beyond the expected Lunar audience, diplomats from all over the world gathered in the room. Griffons, Saddle Arabians, and even the mysterious Kirin appeared. It caused some shock and whispering when even an envoy from the illegal Solar government-in-exile made his appearance and took a seat on the benches.

The message was clear: The Lunars asserted their position as just and were confident enough to rebuke any and all challenges to their new world order.

Applejack, however, knew nothing of such court intrigue. All she knew was that she was in a giant ornate chamber, surrounded by intricately carved pulpits that were filled by a crowd who expected her to play her part perfectly. The sunlight poured in from the glass ceiling of the room—a holdover from the old times. Applejack swallowed the lump in her throat and kept her stare forwards, as she walked to the small podium in the middle of the room.

As soon as she reached her spot, an old bespectacled unicorn sitting at the judge’s bench knocked twice with his gavel and began talking. “We have called the earthen mare named Applejack here today to provide witness testimony in the case of Twilight Sparkle and her co-conspirators.” His voice was well-oiled and unwavering, despite his age. He lowered his eyes to meet the mare’s own. “Witness, declare to the court, do you harbour any anger or resentment towards the accused?”

Applejack looked through the crowd behind herself. She spotted Twilight sitting on the periphery of the room. She seemed far thinner than Applejack had last seen her and the circles around her eyes were almost black. Under her unkempt, greasy mane, she stared back at Applejack with a vacant gaze and a paper-thin smile on her chapped lips.

“No, I wouldn’t say that,” Applejack finally replied. “We’ve been good friends for years, if anything.”

The judge nodded and continued, his voice just as monotonous as before. “As per the decree of our Lunar Sovereign, false testimony is against the law, so I hereby order you to testify truth and only the whole truth to the court.”

“Umm, what do you mean by that?” she asked.

“To testify only what really happened,” the judge reiterated.

Applejack gulped. “I’ll try my best, Your Honour.”

The judge hit the bench with his gavel again. “First, provide the court your name and profession.”

“I’m Applejack of the Apple family. I am a farmer at Sweet Apple Acres…” She cleared her throat. Instinctively she began to fiddle with her hat in embarrassment. “Uh, I might have had a hoof in the recent apple plague, you know I wasn’t home to tend to my trees an’—”

“This is irrelevant to the current case,” the judge interrupted her. “The court acknowledges and confirms the witness’s identity. Witness, proceed with your testimony.”

Once again Applejack looked back, trying to find support in the crowd. Her gaze suddenly crossed Pinkie’s who sat at the other side of the room. She flashed her a big smile and bounced a little on her chair, before the other delegates sitting around her looked at her grimly and she was forced to stop.

“I understand, Your Honour.” Applejack thought back to all the restless weeks she spent at the complex, reiterating the speech again and again and again, while she was forced to listen to Rainbow’s endless tirades about how one day she would ditch that dingy apartment and join the Shadowbolts.

She had this. Everypony said she did. She would be done in ten minutes and then she would go back to her family and her beloved trees and nopony would bother her again. Maybe Pinkie could even arrange to let her keep a few apples every once in a while. The prospect certainly seemed pleasant.

And Twilight? Applejack’s heart really ached for her, but there was nothing she could do. Just save yourself if you can, she heard her words in her mind again. Twilight was such a clever mare anyway, Applejack was sure she would figure something out. If nothing else—

“Well?” the judge asked impatiently, with an eyebrow raised, yanking Applejack back to reality.

“Right, yes, s’cuse me, Your Honour.” She took a deep breath, exhaled, and then began what she had prepared for all this time. Her monologue came out like it came from a machine. “It was about fifteen years ago that I first became the acquaintance of Twilight Sparkle. A mutual friend introduced her as an illegal Lunar, who needed a hiding place for herself and her followers. At the time I had no idea that—” She came to an abrupt halt. “I had no idea…” she repeated in a half-mumble, as she tried to gather her thoughts before the encroaching panic could get to her. She blinked and quickly dashed through the testimony mentally a few times. However, whenever she reached the point where she got stuck, her mind blanked and then blanked again. All she could think of was Rainbow’s stupid stories. “That I…” she stammered, trying to stall for time.

In a last bid, she glanced back at Pinkie, who until now had been mouthing the testimony along with her. She was wildly nodding towards Twilight, but Applejack just stared at her dumbly, not understanding her message.

“What is it that you had no idea about?” the judge asked, trying to help her.

“That…” Suddenly the scene at Rarity’s villa popped into her mind and she latched onto it. “That I would see a book turn into a Changeling,” she bleated.

“That part comes later,” the judge hissed, before pulling his neck in with a pained expression when he realised his faux pas. The delegates looked at each other. A smug grin flashed on the Solar envoy’s face, until the nearby guards’ glares made him reconsider. Whispering filled the room.

“Oh, uh, right, welp.” Applejack felt her cheeks burning and she suddenly wished to be a unicorn or a pegasus, so that she could fly through the glass ceiling or magic herself away from the room.

The judge took off his spectacles and massaged the base of his muzzle. “Fine, since you brought them up, let’s stay on this topic. What did these Changelings look like?”

“What do you mean, Your Honour?” Applejack asked with wide eyes. “Like Changelings. There were also squirrels. But those were real squirrels,” she added with a forced smile.

The judge winced and the whispering became even louder. “Ahem, thank you for the insight, Miss Applejack,” he said quickly. “Do you have any further comments or wish to expand upon your testimony?”

“Nope, Your Honour.” Applejack felt both scorching hot and ice cold at the same time. This went worse than the harvest that got Granny her first hip replacement, she thought. Still, at least she was done. All she had to do now was to trot out of the room and that was that. Miss Pie will surely understand. Her trees were waiting for her. Apple Bloom and Big Mac were waiting for her. She had no place in a fancy courtroom like this anyways. Her place was in Ponyville, at the Acres. It was a stupid idea to call her here in the first place.

And yet.

And yet, she made the mistake of looking around the room again. Pinkie was uncharacteristically still. She was biting her lower lip, while her eyes were burrowing into Applejack. Twilight was avoiding her gaze, choosing to instead look to the side. Her expression was just as sullen as her eyes. Finally Applejack spotted two red-white maned heads sitting at the witnesses’ bench… and the bright, wide smiles on their faces.

In a flash Applejack forgot her tiredness. She forgot the shame she just felt. She even forgot about apples. Her mind lit ablaze with white hot rage, as her brows furrowed and she slowly bared her teeth. The judge was already raising his gavel to dismiss her, but before he could strike the desk, Applejack smashed a hoof against the podium so hard it almost cracked from the impact. “On second note, I do, Your Honour,” she began, slowly and quietly. “Why did they allow these two lying noponies into this room?”

“I… I have no idea what you’re talking about, Miss.” The judge glanced around the room in a small panic, trying to figure out how to defuse this situation without completely jeopardising the trial. Before he could have done anything, though, Applejack continued.

“An’ what in Tartarus exactly do ya not understand, Your Honour? Those two”—she pointed back at Flim and Flam—“have exactly zero reason to be anywhere except the dingiest prison, eatin’ the stalest hay in Equestria.” With each word, her voice became louder and louder. “Look at them! They’re laughin’ at us this very moment!”

The addressed stallions wavered slightly, trying their best to suppress their giggling and appear calm and collected. They stood up and moved forward, bowing deeply in front of the judge.

“Your Most Excellent Honour! To claim me and my brother laughed! It is preposterous!” Flim theatrically baulked.

“Indeed, we firmly believe the Miss is seeing things,” Flam took over with a frown and a disapproving shake of his head. “Certainly, the excitement of the trial got to her head.”

“Seein’ things?” Applejack stomped her hoof again, this time actually cracking the podium. Her tail flicked in frustration. “Seein’ things?!” she echoed screaming. “The only things I’m seein’ here are two ponies without the slightest moral backbone!”

The judge’s ear nervously flicked. “Miss Applejack, please calm down,” his voice betrayed his panic. “Do you uphold your testimony?”

Applejack wasn’t sure if she wanted to. She looked back at Pinkie, who was wildly nodding at her and mouthing “yes” again and again.

“Miss Pie, I know you’re nervous an’ excited, but please don’t jump around so much,” Applejack admonished her gently. “We’re in court.”

“Silence!” the judge thundered, tired of her games. “Witness Applejack, I expect a yes or no answer right now. Do you uphold your testimony?”

However, Applejack heard nothing from him. She was still staring at Pinkie, who continued to wildly seize. “Just look at her, Your Honour!” She pointed at the wriggling mare. “Do you know why she’s so excited? It’s because these two poisoned her! This is the chance to give her some justice! Miss Pie still feels sick if she eats anythin’ that isn’t candy. Ain’t that right?” she yelled outraged.

Pinkie slowly stopped. She stared at Applejack with an odd expression, then, slowly, without saying a word, she hid her face in her hooves. Her mane shortly followed, burying her head in a pink curtain.

Applejack, however, was not done. She turned to the brothers. “So, let’s hear it then. What did you two no-goods say about Twilight, huh?”

The two stallions smiled angelically at her. “Nothing she herself hadn’t admitted yet,” Flim cooed. “Simply that she worked as a mole for the Sun Tyrant for years,” Flam added, his voice just as sweet.

Applejack felt herself stumble. Eyes blind, she spun around and glared at the judge. “Is this what these two worthless liars told the court? Huh?” Her eyes shot daggers and her voice echoed in the utterly mortified silence of the chamber. “An’ Your Honour let them? I know I ain’t the smartest pony around, but even I can see that things aren’t right here!”

She spun again, this time towards Twilight. “Twi, come on, don’t let yourself be slandered like that. You an’ I both know this whole trial is complete horseapples. Tell us what really happened!” she pleaded. Twilight looked back at Applejack. Her pale face regained a little bit of its colour and her eyes suddenly appeared a sliver less lifeless. She clambered to her hooves.

“The accused will sit! The witnesses will stop fighting!” the judge interjected, slamming his gavel against the table several times. “Witnesses Flim and Flam, repeat your testimony for the record.”

Flim waved his hooves towards his brother, who bowed and began to speak. “We testify that Twilight Sparkle was a high-ranking mole of the illegitimate Solar Government.” He looked into Applejack’s eyes with a smug smile.

“She was a what?!” Applejack croaked from rage. “What did you say you complete bastard?”

“She was a paid little informant,” Flam repeated gleefully. Then his eyes glinted threateningly. He bared his teeth slightly as his lips curled into a nasty grin. “Actually no, Your Honour, this isn’t all. I wish to amend my testimony. Not only was Twilight Sparkle a mole, my brother and I can also testify to the fact that Applejack herself is a long-time Solar agent!”

“What?” Applejack mouthed, silent and sputtering from disbelief. “A mole? Me? That’s a good one!” She painfully laughed, before turning to the mortified judge. “Look at this!” She tore her hat off her head and traced the scar on her ear. “Take a mighty good look! I got it from the Solars when these two tipped them off about my family. I was beaten, humiliated, an’ my farm was ransacked, and yet you allow them to claim I’m a traitor? Who else is a traitor then, huh?” She took a step towards the brothers. Her her tail continued to flick like a mad animal and her lips were quivering from the rage she was barely able to contain. The two stallions’ smiles became painted-on and they each took a step back. “Maybe Pinkie Pie is an agent too, is that what you’re saying, huh? Or is Nightmare Moon herself workin’ for the Sun Princess, huh? Is that what you’re saying?”

“What? Her Majesty?” the crowd whispered to each other. The Solar delegate couldn’t hold himself back anymore and his roaring laughter cut through the chaos, until suddenly a sack was pulled on his head and he was dragged out from the room, while the rest were distracted by Applejack.

The judge’s dark grey face turned almost white upon hearing these words. “Witness Applejack, I-I’ll ask one last time… Do… do you uphold your testimony?” he asked weakly, his voice wavering and thin.

Applejack’s shoulders rose and sank as she breathed in and out. “You know what? No.” She shook her head. “I don’t.”

“S-So you don’t?” he asked half-astonished, half out of his mind from the outrage.

“I just told you: No!” she yelled sharply. “Is Your Honour deaf or something?”

17. Should I Lend You My Fillyfriend Too or What?

That was how Applejack got back into prison. This time however, not into her usual cell, but right into the solitary chamber of those soon to be exiled.

She wasn’t quite sure how much time had passed. Every day a tray would be slid under her door, containing little more than stale water and just enough hay for her not to go too hungry. Probably every day, anyway. With no windows and lit torches that never burned out days and nights quickly mixed into each other.

At the moment, Applejack was occupied with her favourite pastime. She sat on her bed, staring at the cracked stone walls, and counted the minutes. Despite all the time she had suddenly found herself having, nothing really came to her mind, so she just kept on counting. Before she settled on such a game she had tried pacing her room, but after she had trod an almost imperceptible circular groove into the floor, she switched to spending her time counting the cracks. The novelty, however, quickly wore off after she counted exactly two-hundred and seventy-three for the fifteenth time.

She also considered creating an imaginary friend to keep herself occupied, but the guards took away her hat and she didn’t consider herself crazy enough to use her food instead.

She was at seven-hundred and twenty-two when suddenly the lock rattled and scraped as a key turned inside of it. Applejack nearly jumped off the bed from the unexpected noise, but she stopped herself at the last moment and slid back down onto the bed with the grace of a burlap sack, her heart stampeding like a herd of rabid buffalo.

Finally, the door slowly opened to reveal a thick pegasus stallion. Despite not being a batpony, he wore the usual Night Guard armour with the Moon-sigil emblazoned on it. He also pulled a small cart behind himself, with a plate of potato salad and a small bottle on it.

“Lovely night for it, Miss Applejack. Name’s Gilded Cage, I’m the officer assigned to prisoners of, well, your variety." The words just flooded out of him as he pulled the cart in front of the bed. "I’m terribly sorry, but y’see I wasn’t able to get any apples because of the strict harvesting policy,” he explained, paying no heed to the fact that Applejack was visibly rustled and still panting a little. “I hope this will do, though.” Finally he shut up, giving Applejack an opportunity to compose herself a little.

She took a deep breath to calm herself, then glanced down at the plate. Seeing actual potatoes mixed with actual onions and actual cream was the single most beautiful thing her mind could imagine at the moment.

“A-All’s fine,” Applejack replied as she continued to stare at the plate, the reason for shakiness in her voice going from fear to hunger. “Very nice of y’all to do.”

Upon second thought, they did ask her what sort of food she would like as a last meal in the purely theoretical situation she were to be exiled. This meant seeing the plate in front of herself could only mean a single thing…

To distract herself from having to finish that thought, Applejack looked at the bottle instead. The liquid inside was suspiciously purple and not apple-like. “Grape wine?” she voiced her worries with a frown.

“Sadly I couldn’t get any cider either because of the same harvest restriction.” Cage flapped his wings. “The mare making the wine is a pro, though. I believe she lives in Ponyville too, just like you did. It might not be from apples, but it should be just as strong.”

Applejack didn’t feel it in herself to argue, so she merely shrugged. “Eh, fair enough. Do you want some?”

Cage shook his head. “Nah, I wouldn’t want to drink it away from you. It’s your last meal here after all…”

Applejack shut her eyes tight and winced as the stallion finished the thought for her. She sighed deeply, then opened her eyes again. “So ya weren’t just nice outta goodness of your heart. Figures. It’s still a bit hard to come to terms with.” She slowly nodded a few times absentmindedly, then looked back at the bottle. “But really, I ain’t one for drinkin’ alone. Come on, don’t be shy.” She held it out towards the stallion.

Cage shrugged and reached for it. “Well, don’t mind if I do, then.”

The two ponies took swigs from the glass after each other.

“So, uh, any family at home?” he broke the sudden silence.

“Yeah, a little sis and a big bro,” Applejack said with a distant smile.

Cage nodded approvingly. “I got two little fillies at home. Not easy with them.”

Applejack laughed a little at that, as she thought back to Bloom and her antics. “I know, right?” Her sister was probably out there right now, getting into trouble with her friends. And Applejack wouldn’t be there to make sure she was safe. She would never be there to make sure she was safe again. The smile fell from her face. “It’s not easy,” she echoed, her eyes suddenly feeling a bit wet. “Not easy at all.”

To distract herself, she dipped down and began chewing on a bite of food. In response, the pegasus scooted closer. “Sooo, how’s the salad?” he purred.

Applejack chewed slowly for a few seconds, then swallowed. “It’s nice.” Her voice rang without any real conviction, but Cage didn’t seem any more dissuaded than before.

“I always recommend this kinda stuff. Tastes just as well whether the pony is Lunar or Solar. And when the prisoner can’t eat it due to nervousness or whatever, it just goes here.” He slapped his belly, laughing. Applejack didn’t laugh, so he cleared his throat awkwardly, before continuing. “B-but please don’t think I’m envying it from you.”

“I don’t think that,” came the quiet, subdued reply.

Cage opened and closed his mouth a few times, before settling on what to say. “Ehm, right. Do you want to consult with a pony of the Solar-cult, before… You know.” He nodded towards the door.

“Nah, I’d rather not.” Applejack shook her head, then wiped her tears away. “Unless I have to,” she added with worry in her voice.

“Oh, no, no. Of course not. Real sorry, I forgot you’re a Lunar.” Cage scoffed a little. “You know, not even that long ago under Her Radiance’s rule…" He shook his head. "Don’t worry about it, that’s in the past. What I mean is that nowadays things are so tangled up,” he finished with a sigh. Applejack just held up a hoof weakly to show that it was alright. Cage nodded and the two remained silent, while Applejack began to eat in earnest.

Soon she was done with the food and she sighed again, her mood a tiny bit better than before. “That was the best meal I’ve had in a mighty long while. Lunch like this almost makes ya wish you could get exiled multiple times,” she said with a sad little chuckle before wiping her hot tears away. Her shoulder bounced a little as she choked on a breath, which she washed down by taking another swig of the wine and slowly swallowing the sweet drink.

“Very glad you liked it,” Cage said with a warm smile as he began gathering the silverware. He cleared his throat. “Well, I should be going now."

“So soon? We’ve had a good chat.” Applejack tipped her head towards him. Truthfully he did little to improve her mood, but anything was far better than the being stuck alone between these walls.

“Sadly. I’m taking an exam for my promotion tomorrow on Lunar history and I’ll be frank, I haven’t learned a word.” He fell into deep contemplation for a second, then his face suddenly lit up. “But hey, wait a second, you said you’re a Lunar yourself, right?”

A pained grimace crossed Applejack’s face. “Eh, I’spose we can say that,” she finally said.

Cage put his hooves together. “Then please help me out!”

She shook her head. “I would, but I’m not good at all this ideology stuff.”

“These are just the basics," he continued to plead. "It should be foal’s play for a mare like you, but I’m in real trouble if I can’t pass.”

“Sugarcube, believe me. I’m thicker in the head than a pile of mud after rain.”

Cage glanced behind himself before reaching into his armour, fishing out a tiny bottle. “Apple schnapps,” he declared with a conspiring smile, as he passed it over. “Go ahead, I’m sure this will thin things out in your head.”

Applejack shrugged and sipped the bottle. A pleasant warmness spread through her body, loosening her a little both physically and mentally. Meanwhile Cage pulled out a small list of questions written in ugly, chicken-scratch hoofwriting.

“Okay, first question," he said as he began to read. "What was the Longest Equinox?”

“Kick me in the face, but I have no idea.”

Cage grabbed her hooves pleadingly. His eyes gleamed with desperation as he stared into hers. “Please! You’re gonna be far away tomorrow either way, but me? I can’t lose this job, I… I have two fillies at home!”

“Fine, fine.” Applejack rolled her eyes before pursing her lips. “Longest Equine-ox… It must be some pretty ugly animal.”

“See! That’s more like it!” He smiled at her encouragingly. “Alright, second question. What were the Elements of Harmony?”

Recognition flashed in Applejack’s eyes. “Oh, I know this one! Granny taught me them when I was a just lil’ filly: A good mornin’ breakfast, a good day of work, an’ a good night’s sleep. I’m surprised ya didn’t know it. It’s pretty darn obvious.”

Cage furrowed his brows. “Hmm, I thought there were six of them.”

“What? Is three not enough for you? Lemme have a bit more of that schnapps, maybe it’ll make me remember.”

Time passed, answer followed question, schnapps followed answer. In the middle of a particularly difficult topic, their treatise was suddenly interrupted by the distant, hollow ringing of the city’s great bell-tower. Cage’s head shot up, panic on his face.

“Oh, Stars above, we really took our sweet time! I’m very sorry, Applejack, but I’m afraid it’s, umm, time.” He struggled to stand up, having sat so much.

Applejack sighed. “Is the ride gonna be at least comfortable?”

“Think so, the pony managing it is quite new, but he has qualifications in transporting cattle. Apparently the route is very calming and scenic. Not that there’s anypony left to really confirm it,” Cage said with an awkward chuckle. He stretched the tiredness out of his wings, then put away the small bottle and placed the little cart to the side. “Well, it’s time to go. Are you sure you don’t want to talk to the Solars? I really don’t much care about who’s on what side and I’d hate if you came across Her Radiance out there without any insurance.”

Applejack shook her head. “Nah, thank ya kindly, but I already put my bits on the Lunars, I’d rather not change my mind last moment.”

He shrugged. “Hm, well, suit yourself.” He placed the key into the lock and opened the cell door. He motioned for the mare to leave. “Go ahead then.”

“No, no, feel free to go first,” Applejack offered politely.

“It wouldn’t feel right, please,” Cage replied just as politely.

This went back and forth a few more times until the pegasus lost his temper and raised an armoured hoof threateningly. “Out. Now.”

The two of them left the cell and slowly made their way into the prison’s yard through the eerily quiet hallway. It was an awful day outside, the sky was a dirty-grey wet sheet, ready to drench anypony in freezing rain any moment soon. Only the barest hints of the Sun shone through the thick, dark clouds, illuminating the yard in a gloomy, sinister half-light.

“Well, I suppose here we are,” Cage commented idly. He looked around, confusion slowly spreading on his face. “Huh… That’s odd.”

The cart was already prepared in the middle. It was a simple, shoddy wagon on rickety wheels, made from rough, splintered planks, with a bit of hay spread at the bottom to provide cushioning and perhaps, at times of great need, a barely-palatable emergency snack. Applejack was unsure how it was meant to prevent the exile from merely hopping off and legging it, but at the moment she wasn’t exactly in the mood to question it out loud. Especially when, at the moment, what was even more puzzling was the fact that the pony supposed to draw it was nowhere to be seen.

“I don’t get it." Cage scratched his head. “I’ve been guarding this prison for well over two decades and I have never-ever seen an exile postponed. There’s supposed to be a system against this,” he explained with eagerness. “You see, if the pony in charge of the cart happens to be ill, or busy with family matters, a heartsong, or whatever, then he’s supposed to have a deputy to take over. And if said deputy isn’t available? Another deputy. And so on…” He gesticulated wildly with his wings, before collecting himself a little and coughing. "What I’m saying is that ever since I was assigned here, this has never-ever happened.”

Applejack just blinked a few times. “Welp, I guess I’ll just wait.”

“It’s not really nice to wait in a situation like this,” Cage said, reaching back to comb through his mane with a hoof. “I guess you could sit down if you want.”

“Why?”

“Why not? Makes it easier to wait.” While Applejack sat down against the carriage, Cage flew up into the air with all the elegance of a bumblebee driving a train. “Long Voyage! Long Voyage!” he yelled.

No reply from anywhere, so he descended back and turned to her. “Sorry Applejack, there really is no mistake here, you’re supposed to be exiled today. Say, what if we yelled together? Maybe that would work better.”

“If ya say so.”

So they yelled together.

“Long Voyage! Long Voyage!”

“Just who the hay is this Long Voyage anyway?” Applejack asked between two shouts.

“Ah, he’s the pony who’s supposed to cart you off.”

“Oh, I see.”

They continued to yell. “Long Voyage!”

Suddenly a window slammed open and a very angry looking unicorn looked out. She wore baby-blue pyjamas, with tiny yellow crescent moons peppered on them. “Just what in Her Highness’s great dark moons is going on out there?” she boomed, her voice easily filling the great courtyard, while her eyes burned like two hot coals even from that far.

“Good morning, Miss Director!” Cage jumped to attention. “I report the prisoner to be exiled is here, but the cart-pony is nowhere to be found. We are unable to execute her sentence," he explained with great import, before pausing for a second and scratching his head. "What are we supposed to do?”

A long, drawn-out sigh filled the yard from above. “Just stay there,” came the extremely slow and tired answer. “I’ll be with you in just a moment.”

A few minutes later the mare appeared, her pyjamas still hanging loosely on her. She scratched her chin and glanced at Applejack with half-lidded eyes under her uncombed mane. She lazily held out her hoof and Applejack politely shook it. “Seven Locks, I am this prison’s director," she introduced herself, suppressing a yawn. "So… who exactly are you again?”

“Pleasure’s mine, Miss Locks. I’m Applejack. I’m the one y’all are supposed to exile.”

“Applejack, Applejack,” she repeated the name, as the ungreased gears of her memory slowly began to turn. Suddenly she raised her eyes towards the sky. “Sweet Moon above. Haven’t they told you already?”

“They have, Miss. Today, at dawn, I’m off. That’s why I’m here.”

“Where have you even been since yesterday?”

“In solitary confinement,” Cage cut in. “She received an exemplary dinner, I made it myself,” he added proudly.

“Gracious Moon above.” Locks sighed as she buried her face into a hoof. “I understand everything now.” She looked up. “Well, congratulations, Applejack, you are officially going to be rehabilitated.” Her tone was just as flat as before.

“If I’m here already, wouldn’t it be easier if y’all just exiled me the normal way?" Applejack asked, while she nervously played with a lock of her mane. "I’d really rather not prolong these things.”

Locks groaned in irritation. “Re-ha-bi-li-ta-ted. Which part don’t you understand?”

“Oh, I get it alright." Applejack nodded understandingly. "I assume it’s some new method to make me disappear.”

The only reaction this got her was another long sigh. “Look. What I mean is that those fickle tides of politics have turned and you’ve been pardoned. You get it now? There will be no exile today. To be rehabilitated means you are innocent.”

Applejack scratched her scar. “Beg pardon, Miss Locks, but I knew that from the get go.”

“And now you get it in writing as well," the director explained with all the patience of a teacher who needs to set an unruly student straight. "Well, run along now, we’ve wasted each other’s time enough, haven’t we? You’ll get your bits in the mail. Is your address still the same?”

“Just the same," Applejack replied automatically before furrowing her brows. "What bits?”

“A rehabilitation check. Consider it money for your troubles. Well, good day, then.” With that Seven Locks turned around with a grunt and began to walk back inside.

Before she could get far, Applejack suddenly had an idea and yelled after her. “Excuse me, Miss Locks!”

She turned back with a groan. “What now?”

“Do you happen to know what happened to Twilight Sparkle?”

“Twilight Sparkle, hm. Familiar name…” Locks pursed her lips in concentration. “Right, I remember now. That little mare has been home for a week already.” She stifled a yawn. “Anything else to waste my time with? No? Great. Good day.” She trotted away with stiff steps.

“She ate the salad, drank the wine, drank my schnapps, won’t get exiled, and will even get paid for her troubles?” Cage fumed under his breath angrily. “No question, you Lunars really are all just one big band of worthless, rotten no-goods.”

The weight of events slowly sank in for Applejack. She remained standing in place, staring at the cart. She slowly reached up and scratched the scar on her ear, before putting her hoof back down again. Then she continued to stare, her mouth slightly agape. “I just really don’t get it at all,” she muttered.

Cage stomped the ground and his tail flicked in anger. “What’s with the romantics? Shoo already!" he screamed at her. "Unless you want me to throw you out by your fat flank!”

She was truly free, there was no helping it. What’s more, they even gave back her hat! It really felt like a substantial piece of her being had returned. Applejack passed through the not so pearly gates of the prison and began her long trot home. On the way to the train station, she greeted the first passerby that came across her—a pegasus colt reading a newspaper.

“Howdy, partner! I’m mighty sorry, but would’ya be nice enough to tell me what day is today?”

“It’s the third,” he replied, looking up from the paper, with a slightly annoyed expression on his face.

“Which season?”

“Fall.”

Applejack nodded in understanding. “Fall, huh? Been away for quite a while then. Do you have any idea if there were any recent apple-related plagues?”

“No idea, Miss," he replied with an impatient roll of his eyes. "Anything else? Should I lend you my fillyfriend too or what?”

Applejack did not get upset. She gently pulled out the paper from his hooves with ease and looked at the news herself. There were massive, yelling headlines about some unsuccessful counter-revolution and how Her Majesty decreed to replace her cabinet and introduce some reforms, but Applejack paid them little heed. Upon coming to a particular title, however, her face fell dark.

“Sweet Stars above!” she yelled. “I’m wasting time sittin’ around in prison, while my apples at home are in trouble again? Beg ya pardon, but I must go, right now!” With that she shoved the newspaper back into the colt’s hooves—who continued to stare after her long after she had left, blinking in utter bewilderment—and rushed off.

After getting lost a few times, she finally found her way to the train station and got on the earliest train headed for Ponyville. As the train began to move, she stared out through the window on the door. She was about to get lost in watching the station slowly snake past them, when she noticed a pink mare rushing towards the vehicle, her face obscured by her nail-straight mane. Quickly grabbing a piece of rope laying in the corner of the cabin, she fashioned a makeshift lasso and threw it at the pony, pulling her into the carriage at the last possible moment before the train sped up too fast.

The two of them stumbled onto the floor in a sore, tangled pile. But at the very least they both were safely on board. Once she didn’t see double anymore, Applejack took a closer look at the newcomer.

“P-Pinkie Pie?” she asked in shock, as she freed her limbs and clambered to her hooves. “I’m mighty surprised to see you again. How come you’re here?”

“Hello, Applejack,” Pinkie replied darkly, as she dusted herself off. She didn’t look at her.

There was a beat of silence between the two as Applejack fruitlessly waited for her to answer the question.

Applejack thought hard what else to say, but she realised she and Pinkie really didn’t have much in common. “So, uh, how are you these days?” she finally asked.

“Take a guess.” Pinkie turned towards Applejack and scoffed in anger. “Your little courtroom stunt was just the spark those Solar ingrates needed to launch a coup attempt." She paced angrily in the carriage for a few steps, before facing the farmer again. Hurt and pain were written all over her face. “In less than a week Sun-banners hung from all over Canterlot. And you know what happened then?”

Applejack stared back dumbfounded. “Not a clue, Miss Pie.”

“We beat them back, obviously,” Pinkie replied with a roll of her eyes, like she was saying something blatantly fundamental. “The combined force of the Night Guard easily drove those wannabe counter-revolutionaries into a rout.”

“That’s, um, great?” Applejack’s confusion was only growing. Pinkie in return laughed sharply.

“Great, she says!” She scoffed. “Yeah, it could have been great! Everything was going so, so well! And yet Her Highness still decided to compromise! Do you have any clue why you’re out and not on a one-way ticket ride to the Griffonlands right now?” Applejack just shook her head as she watched Pinkie’s tirade with increasing worry. “Because Her Highness promised leniency! There will be no more exiles, at all. And what’s more, she sent me away! Said my methods are too much! My entire department, dissolved… After all these years! What will happen to me now? Where will I even go?” Pinkie sobbed just once with the pureness of a filly after her first heartbreak. Then her face darkened again and she wiped her tears away. "To think I did so much for these ponies…” she said darkly, while nodding back towards Canterlot, which rapidly shrank behind them. A pained laugh left her lips. “To think I got my stomach ruined for… for this!”

Applejack was not sure how to react. She certainly didn’t intend any coups to start in her name, but on the other hoof, she also didn’t mind being free. “Ah, uh, well. Things like that sometimes happen.”

Pinkie’s head bobbed up and down slightly, as if she was laughing to herself or perhaps sobbing. She suddenly turned towards Applejack again. “And you? What about you?”

Applejack shrunk back a little. “W-What about me?”

“Are you angry at me too?” Pinkie turned her face away. There was no anger, nor accusation in the question, just a dull sadness. “Do you think Her Majesty did the right thing?”

Applejack wanted to strike back with a decisive “yes” as payback for all the hurt, pain, and calamity she was put through, but one look at Pinkie took the wind out of her lungs. She took a deep breath, but for a few seconds no words came to her mouth. Finally she exhaled, shrugged, and said, “I’m sure you only tried to do your best.”

“That’s right!” Pinkie looked back, her eyes burning with vindicated fury. She stomped on the cabin’s floor. “That’s exactly right! You know full well, I spent day and night on you all!”

Applejack frowned and looked to the side. “Maybe you should have spent a few less nights on us then?” came her gentle, helpful reply.

The two stood in silence for a few seconds.

“You ponies will beg to have me back soon enough,” Pinkie said to nopony in particular. “You’ll beg. Just you wait.”

Applejack tipped her head to the side. “I’m not too sure about that, sugarcube.”

They didn’t talk after that. Some time passed and the train finally arrived to Ponyville’s station. Applejack got off and glanced back as her ride rolled away, carrying the still-fuming pink mare onwards.

Applejack breathed in the fresh, early-Fall air. She felt like not just one, but several heavy weights were lifted off her back. As she stopped to stretch out the tiredness out of her neck, she looked around and realised she never quite noticed before how colourful Ponyville was during these days. Stopping at the fountain in the main square of the city, she spent a few minutes lost in merely watching ponies going around their days in the early morning light. She made a mental note to spend more time in the city, with how much time Bloom and Mac held the front just fine, surely they could allow her the occasional day off. She could maybe even visit Twilight, for old times’ sake. The two of them did have quite a bit to talk about after all.

Stars, now that she was thinking of it, she could even take up Trixie’s offer. Bloomie definitely deserved a bit of spectacle after all that happened and she was sure deep down Mac would enjoy some simple fun for once too.

Applejack nodded contently. It was quite a sweet plan, all things considered. Then she let out a slow approving hum and began to make her way back towards the haphazard, bizarre tower that was her new home. Her Apples were waiting for her, after all.

On the way home she sung a little song to herself under her breath, one she heard from her grandmother oh-so-many years ago:

Somepony tomorrow must rise up to defeat the darkness.
Oh tell me, who is the one you would choose?

Somepony tomorrow must rewrite the fables we tell each other.
Oh tell me, who is the one you would choose?

Somepony tomorrow must absolve this world from its sorrow.
Oh tell me, who is the one you would choose?

And behind her, for the first time after such a long-long time, the Sun seemed to outshine the Moon just a little bit.

Fin.

Author's Note

Blogpost

4. We’re Here to See Twilight Sparkle. She's a Good Friend of Mine.

And so Applejack was free again. She wasted no time getting back to the farm and, after receiving many tearful hugs from her no-less shocked family, she spent her entire afternoon double-checking that everything was fine. Thankfully the trees didn’t seem worse for wear, so she headed to bed at an early hour, with a plan forming in her mind.

The next day, she walked down to the market with Apple Bloom and spent her last bits on buying a basket full of the few kinds of fruits still sold—pears, oranges, and, to her own disgust, strawberries. The sisters wrapped the basket in a colourful, checkered cloth and then embarked on the next train going to Canterlot.

Even from afar, staring out of the train window, Applejack was able to make out the royal palace, which jutted out of the castle city above all the other spires. Although she wasn’t sure where exactly, she knew the mare responsible for her freedom was working in there somewhere.

What exactly does a Royal Advisor advise on anyways, she wondered.

But there was no use pondering the question as the train quickly arrived and the two made their way through the bustling city. Despite the many Moon banners hanging from nearly all buildings around the street, the fact that the white marble was decorated with nearly as much gold as it was with purple made it clear that things hadn’t always been as they were now.

Applejack observed the vibrant crowds as she trotted past them. Ponies left and right went about their days, some with smiles plastered on their faces, but all of them relaxed. It was odd to think those who were now friendly neighbours might have fought on opposite sides not even that long ago. And yet, as she looked at them, she didn’t see Solars and Lunars, just ponies.

Perhaps time really healed all wounds, especially here in Canterlot, where—despite the promises for greater equality—the opulence so alien to fringe-towns like Ponyville could still noticeably be felt.

Not that Applejack had much to complain about. Her Majesty held her word and really made the Sun dimmer. The less blistering summers and cold winters increased her orchard’s yield, which Applejack couldn’t help but feel thankful for… even if she wasn’t allowed to keep any of its harvest.

But surely, soon enough there would be plenty for everypony and her family could start eating them again too. Maybe Twilight could convince some of them stuffy bigwigs, she thought. Just as she got me out of this mess.

It was a sweet idea and Applejack suddenly felt giddy. “Come on, Bloom, let’s not keep Twi waiting,” she said with a big smile, as she stepped up her pace.

Finally, after snaking their way through alleys and highways, the sisters arrived in front of the inner castle. There they came face to face with two stoic-looking batpony guards.

“Halt,” one of them said. To Applejack, he almost seemed like a statue as he spoke, with only his lips moving. “State your business.”

“Howdy!” Applejack greeted them with a tip of her hat. “We’re here to see Twilight Sparkle. She’s a good friend of mine.”

The guard quickly scribbled something on a small slip of paper and passed it to his partner, who flew off into the castle. A few moments later he returned with a different slip which he passed on to Applejack.

“First floor, second door to the left,” he rattled off, before continuing his vigil staring forwards like the two Apples weren’t even there.

“Well, thank ya kindly,” Applejack replied and, when the guard didn’t react, she just nodded for Apple Bloom to follow her and the two of them began to make their way into the castle grounds.

The palace garden had certainly seen better days. While the many royal gardeners did their best to keep it in shape, ever since Her Majesty ascended to the throne, daylight never quite reached the same intensity as before and many of those beautiful flowers previously adorning the fields wilted, their place taken by less pretty, but certainly more stubborn weeds.

Applejack herself had little taste for flowers, but, as she trotted past them through the cobblestone path, the sight of the barren trees and wild greenery still made her frown. Surely so much arable land could be put to some better use, she thought. Like planting apple trees.

Her train of thought, however, was interrupted upon reaching the entrance. The duo trotted inside, marveling at the fancy statues and paintings that adorned the hall leading to the main staircase. Though Applejack found it a little weird how some of the paintings had one half covered, showing only Her Majesty in a surprisingly diminutive form. Similarly some statues seemed to have pairs of tiny pieces of stone still attached to conspicuously empty spots two hooves-full of distance apart. It was all very bizarre, but then what did she understand of Canterlot taste?

The sisters made their way onto the first floor and entered a small, dimly lit office without any windows. They found a tired looking pegasus inside, who sat behind a small table surrounded by a great pile of parchments. He was in the middle of scribbling something with long, wobbly letters onto one of the scrolls, when Applejack and Apple Bloom arrived. Upon noticing the intrusion, he slowed down and glanced up, though his hoof continued to write blindly.

“And you two are?” he asked. His eyes had dark circles around them.

“We’re here to see Twilight Sparkle. She’s a good friend of mine,” Applejack reiterated, passing over her slip.

“I see.” He mechanically reached into the desk and pulled out a slip with his free hoof, before switching over to writing on it, without even lifting his quill up. He scratched a few words on the slip and gave it to Applejack. “Third floor, first door to the right,” he muttered, while his hoof was back to writing the scroll again.

“Thanks,” she replied, scratching her scarred ear a little. Her appreciation was met with a tired sigh. “I’spose we best be going.”

The pegasus didn’t reply, just continued to stare at them with pained eyes, so the duo backed out of the office. Following his advice they made their way to the third floor. Here they stumbled into an earth pony with a green coat and an unruly black mane, who was busy reading a book. She sat in a large, lavish office filled with bookshelves. Her legs were kicked up on a small stool, while she leaned back into a cushy chair. A small table with a cup of tea was next to her, along with a pile of untouched paperwork.

At first Applejack didn’t want to disturb her, but after a minute of standing around, she still hadn’t reacted to their presence. “Uhm, howdy,” she greeted the mare carefully.

“Yes?” came the sharp reply.

“We’re here to see Twilight Sparkle. She’s a good friend of mine.” By now Applejack felt like a broken record.

“Uh-huh,” the mare replied, without looking up from the book.

Applejack waited for another minute, before gathering the courage to ask, “Excuse me, miss. Are you not gonna give us a slip or something?”

The mare continued to read and just raised a hoof, vaguely waving it towards the desk next to her. “Just take one from here. Second floor, sixth door to the left. You can’t miss it. Now shut up and go already, don’t you see I’m busy?”

Applejack exchanged her slips and this time the two of them left without saying thanks.

“Sis, how many more ponies do we need to visit?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Call me a pumpkin an’ roll me down a hill if I know,” her sister answered, as the two trotted on—mentally, if not physically exhausted—towards their next destination.

Behind a small, plain wooden door the Apples came into an office decked out in various pieces of stage equipment, including capes, painted boxes, large rings with slots for torches, rope, magic wands, and other various trinkets and baubles Applejack couldn’t even recognise.

“Come in! Come in!” a disembodied voice called out. As they stepped closer a small round object hit the floor and the room was filled with smoke.

Applejack and Apple Bloom began to cough, while the thick gas made their eyes itch. Moments later it dispersed and they realised they weren’t alone. An azure mare stood in front of them, wearing a wizard’s cape and hat.

“Howdy, uh—” Applejack began her spiel, but the mare cut into her words.

“Yes, I already know what you are going to say!” She held her head high, looking down at the others with an awfully smug smirk. “And, no! Don’t thank me! The Great and Powerful T-r-r-r-ixie knows her showmareship bedazzles the audience without idle gratitude!”

Applejack blinked a long blink. “I was just about to say that we’re here to see—”

“Trixie’s next show?” Trixie held a hoof to her forehead, as she sighed theatrically. “Alas, the Resourceful and Flexible Trixie is now a humble office worker. She has no time for entertaining the common folk.”

“No, it’s about—” Applejack tried again, holding out her slip. Trixie pushed it back.

“Absolutely not. The Humble and Diligent Trixie has to get back to her work momentarily and will not sign any autographs.”

Applejack had enough.

“Miss Trixie!” she yelled at her. The mare suddenly looked like she saw a ghost for a moment, her tail jumping between her legs and her ears hugging her head, before she slowly raised her eyes and stared at the farmer with unease. “That’s not why I’m here,” Applejack said a tad softer.

“Then why are you here?” Trixie asked carefully.

“I was about to say,” Applejack replied slowly and calmly, massaging her temple. “We’re here to see Twilight Sparkle. She’s a good friend of mine.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” The mare immediately relaxed. “That happens to be part of Trixie’s job.” She trotted over to a small drawer in the corner of the room. “The Knowledgeable and Wise Trixie shall now do all in her power to procure Miss Sparkle’s location for you.” She opened the drawer with her magic and began flipping through the files. “S… S… S… A-ha, Sparkle! There we go.” She turned back. “Trixie must know what’s in the basket. For security reasons.” She paused for a second, then pouted. “And out of curiosity.”

“Fruits.”

“Fruits?”

“Fruits.”

“Trixie understands,” she said with a solemn nod. “Twilight Sparkle works on the first floor, third door to the left.”

“Thank you, Miss Trixie.”

“The Generous and Appreciative Trixie considers you most welcome,” she said with a bow. Applejack and Apple Bloom were about to turn around and leave, when she quickly leaned closer and added quietly, “And if you happen to need somepony to do a show for birthdays or something, you know where to find me. Trixie could use the extra bits, office work doesn’t exactly pay much.”

Finally the two Apples stood in front of an office with a small sign reading

T. Sparkle
Royal Advisor

They knocked and when no answer came, they entered. Despite the important-sounding title, the office itself didn’t seem particularly opulent or even that big. If anything it was kind of cramped. Its walls were painted a light brown, occasionally interrupted by darker beams going from the floor to the ceiling.

The floor itself showed the signs of age. Its dark planks faded in a path from the door to the small desk standing in the corner, the top of which could have been best described as organised chaos. Two large stacks of papers stood on the two sides, with an unfinished parchment sitting in the middle, ink and quill still next to it. A small weathered donkey plush sat on the corner of the table, its dull grey body ironically providing the most variety in the room. On the wall opposite to the door was a large window, its curtains drawn. Sunlight filtered in through it, bathing the room in cold white light.

A large map of Equestria was stretched across the wall on the opposite end of the table. Apple Bloom trotted over to gawk at it.

“Come now, Bloomie. We’re in a very important place, ya can’t just stare at stuff like that,” Applejack admonished her, but the filly was too engrossed by getting to learn just how big of a country she was living in.

Suddenly the door slammed open and an irritated-looking grey unicorn marched in, carrying a suitcase in his telekinesis.

He didn’t even take any note of the other two ponies in the room, just sat down next to the table. He brought the half-finished parchment to his eyes using his magic and read a few lines before scrunching it up into a ball and throwing it into the trash, followed by the rest of the papers… and finally the doll.

“I’m mighty sorry for disturbing you, Sir, but isn’t this the office of Miss Twilight Sparkle?” Applejack broke the uneasy silence.

“Yes, it is,” he replied while slamming the suitcase on the desk.

“Is she in today?”

“I don’t know.” He picked out a few new forms from the heavy box and began reading.

Applejack waited for a few seconds for him to continue, but he kept on fiddling with his belongings.

“When will she be in?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does she still work here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is she still even the Royal Advisor?”

“I. Don’t. Know,” the stallion repeated coldly, locking eyes with the mare. “Are you Applejack from Sweet Apple Acres, brother Big McIntosh, sister Apple Bloom, grandmother Granny Smith, parents deceased?” he listed as if he was reading it off paper.

Applejack almost choked on her breath. “Uhm, yes, that is correct,” came her surprised and slightly hurt answer. “I just wanted to thank Miss Sparkle, with this,” she said quietly, pointing at the basket.

“What is in it?”

“Fruits.”

“Fruits?”

“Fruits.”

“I see. You can leave it here.”

Applejack frowned, as she glanced back at the basket. “These things spoil real fast, you know? Do ya have a cooler?”

“Yes, I do.” With that he lowered his gaze back onto the paper. “You can leave now.”

What else could they have done? They left.

“Sis, did you get any of this?” Apple Bloom asked, while they were descending the stairs towards the exit.

Applejack didn’t reply immediately. There was much she herself didn’t quite understand and something told her what she just experienced was unusual even compared to the standards normal here. “These are higher things, Bloomie,” she finally said. “The more important a pony gets, the more convoluted things around her become.” She smiled at her sister. “Don’tcha worry about any of it. This is why it’s good to be so close to the earth, things are simple an’ straightforward. The Sun rises, the Sun sets, the apples grow, y’know?” A small, uncertain laugh left her lips. “I sure hope I’ll never rise any higher than I already have.”

Apple Bloom hummed, but remained silent. And, despite her reassuring words, Applejack herself didn’t feel particularly calm either.

Author's Note

Happy Easter!

Next week the fun will be doubled.