The Core of the Problem

Well, it definitely wasn’t working out. The entire day was, once again, frittered away with Applejack without so much as a single idea about what was bothering her. Twilight wasn’t just concerned, she was also downright curious. What in the name of Equestria could have Applejack so troubled, that she practically fell apart right in front of her? Applejack just… didn’t do that. She was strong, both physically and mentally. What terrible thing could have happened for her to crack?

It couldn’t be something with her family, as they all seemed to be okay when she first arrived at the farm. They spent the whole day working together, too. They were Apples—they might not always get along, but they definitely always worked everything out in the end.

But Twilight truly didn’t know what else it could be. At first, she thought maybe Spike was right after all: it really was just because Applejack had been busy lately. But with the kind of reaction that the country pony had given her, there was no way that something so simple could cause all of this. It had to be something deeper—something more personal.

Twilight just hoped that her friend was okay.

“So, how’d it go with Applejack?” Spike asked as soon as Twilight cleared the doorway. She looked across to see her faithful friend and assistant with a kitchen apron on, stirring something in a mixing bowl absent-mindedly.

Lifting an eye, she only shook her head, dismissing the unspoken question: “I—don’t even know. I thought that I had something going, there for a minute, but it’s like the second she was about to open up, she just kind of clammed up all over again. She said that she doesn’t want to talk about it, but she also was extremely grateful when I said I wouldn’t leave her.”

Spike paused a moment, lifting a claw to his chin and tapping it in thought. “Well, what if,” he began, “she isn’t so much as having a problem, as she is just dealing with something that can’t really be fixed? I read in my comic book about one of the Super Ponies—you remember them, right?” he paused, waiting for confirmation.

“We got sucked into a comic book to defeat a pony crazily obsessed with hair-care products. How could I forget?” Twilight teased, a smile playing on the corner of her lips. That was one of her more memorable adventures—though she didn’t exactly care to recall the entire act. It was a touch to unsettling to remember that villain.

“Right. So, in one of their latest issues, Philly-Second realizes that her being a super pony makes a lot of other things impossible for her to do. She realizes that she can never really settle down and have a family. She can’t create lasting friendships, because she can never be truly honest with them about who she is. She gets depressed about how being so special makes it so she can’t be normal.”

Twilight thought a moment about this new possibility. So, Applejack was going through—a mid-life crisis? That was essentially the easiest way to say it. But what in Equestria could she be struggling about? The farm was literally her entire life. She ate, slept, and worked at that place, and was immensely proud of it. She showed no signs of stopping, either, as she was in the prime of the season, and was practically boiling over with excitement barely two weeks ago about the prospect of harvesting the entire orchard. You couldn’t go from that level of passion to wishing you could do something else in that short of time—it just wasn’t possible.

So, what else was there?

“I don’t know, Spike. What could Applejack be so upset about, that she would wish her life was different? She loves her orchard and was talking and laughing with her family this morning when I showed up. It can’t be either of those…” she listed, looking out the nearby window, where she knew the farm lied just beyond those rolling hills.

“I don’t know, but it’s something to think about. A possibility, if nothing else.” She turned to face the dragon again, who had dipped his claw in the batter, and was currently sucking on it. From the looks of it, he was about to bake a cake of some sort.

“I guess you’re right. But in the meantime, do you need any help?” she asked, perking her ears up at the prospect of some “Twilight Time” with Spike (as the little ones called it).

He snorted, turning to face the oven. “Only if you promise not to lecture me on the ‘Properties of Kitchen Etiquette’, like you did last time.”

She rolled her eyes as she cantered to his side in the kitchen. “You were turning the stovetop on seventy-five percent heat when the recipe clearly said ‘medium’, Spike. It had to be done.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Two weeks. It had been two weeks, and, despite a growing voice in her mind, reminding her that she had no idea what was bugging Applejack, Twilight’s valiant effort seemed to be paying off. No, Applejack still hadn’t budged, but she did seem to be getting more and more cheerful.

Apple Bucking Season was coming to a close, with only a few more days left before the orchard would be completely free of any sort of apple, and it seemed like perhaps Twilight’s work was coming to an end, as well.

Instead of sulking around the library, or perhaps shadowing the stubborn pony, Twilight relented to the constant barrage of invites she had gotten every Wednesday. The five friends were in the park, watching their pets run throughout the shallow hills and through the pond. Wednesday meant Pet Day. Twilight had been neglecting the event in favor of her new royal duties and her preoccupation with Applejack, but she figured it was time to reunite Owlicious with his friends, once more.

“Has anyone seen AJ around? She was supposed to help me with my routine, but she’s disappeared.” Rainbow Dash asked, lounging over a nearby rock. She looked down—or perhaps up, as she was lying on her back—to face her friends after asking the question, her rainbow mane lying across the stone.

“I saw her yesterday, walking through town. She looked really deep in thought, like something was bothering her. I tried to talk to her, but she didn’t answer me. I suppose she was just too busy, or maybe I wasn’t loud enough. That happens, sometimes…” Fluttershy answered, dropping her head at what Twilight only guessed was a bad memory.

Rainbow Dash, with what seemed to be a single movement, righted herself on the stone, sitting down in what Twilight could only call a majestic perch. “Something is definitely up. I was out flying with Twilight a while back, and Applejack looked right up at us. I waved at her, but she just kept watching us—or maybe looking right through us.”

Twilight sat, listening to the conversation. She remembered that. It was the day before she decided to find out what was wrong with Applejack. She took it for granted, guessing that she was just mentally listing what needed to be done for the remainder of Apple Bucking Season, but now that her friends mentioned it… AJ really was acting strange. Sure, the invitations and such weren’t exactly normal, but had it been affecting other aspects? Was everyone finally starting to notice?

“Maybe she needs to smile! I know that one time, I hadn’t smiled in so long, that I began to be all grumpy and stuff! I eventually went down to Sugar Cube Corner and got a triple chocolate caramel cookie, and then after that I went and talked to Rarity, and she made me a new dress! And after I ate the cookie and wore the dress, and I went for a walk, and someone told me how pretty I looked, and after that I was really happy.”

A silent moment passed as everyone’s minds caught up with the avalanche of words from the pink-haired pony. “Pinkie Pie is right.” Rarity stood up, her face turning determined. “We might not know what is up with Applejack, but what we do know is that she needs a serious pep-talk. We need to start showing her a little bit of extra attention, just so she knows that we care. Who’s with me?”

Fluttershy lifted a hoof. “I’ll take her for a picnic, next time I see her. Maybe she’ll tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can throw a party! We can have cake, and balloons, and—” she quickly gasped, something coming to mind, “and we can have a piñata! I love piñatas! What better what to get out your frustration than beating candy out of something?”

Twilight remembered the look Applejack made she had cornered her. A party… would be that many times over. “Maybe a party isn’t a good idea, Pinkie. We want Applejack to be happy, but maybe a party in her honor is a little bit too… forward.”

“Me and Pinkie will take Applejack on a hike. She loves the outdoors, it’ll give me a chance to work my wings, and Pinkie can keep her company on the ground,” Rainbow Dash intervened.

“I can make a new pair of boots for her! I doubt she’ll fully appreciate the integrity of my design, but if nothing else, it’ll get a smile from her,” Rarity pitched in.

“What about you Twilight?” Pinkie Pie spoke up, jumping and down in her excitement. “What are you gonna do?”

She couldn’t just tell her friends that she had already talked to Applejack, and she really wasn’t up to sharing. She had been spending the last two weeks with her, practically spending from sunrise to sunset, but still to no avail. “I’ll try visiting her every once in a while. Maybe she just needs a friend to be around?”

“Sounds great, everypony. I’m sure she’ll be back to her old self in no time,” Fluttershy answered. “At least… I hope so.”

Rarity placed a hoof on Fluttershy’s back. “We all hope so, sweetie. We all hope so…”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I really don’t see why y’all think that I need some special treatment, Twi. Of course I haven’t been around town as much as I usually am. It’s Apple Buckin’ season, and I’ve just been really stressed out lately. Give me another week, ‘n I’ll be bright and buckin’ before y’all know it.” Applejack stuck the shovel in the ground with a small huff before turning to face Twilight, wiping her brow with her hoof.

“I—we just care about you, AJ. I just wanted to give you a heads-up, because knowing our friends, I know that they can get a little out of hand.”

Applejack chuckled at the honesty as she motioned for Twilight to follow. She began to walk toward the fencing of the orchard. She leaned against the railing as she looked over at the Western sunset. “Well, I appreciate what your tryin’ to do, but y’all really don’t have to.”

Twilight cocked her head at her friend. She was laughing… that was another good sign. “How are you holding up, Applejack? You’ve seemed a lot happier to me than you were before… but when I talked to our friends yesterday, they seemed to tell quite a different story.”

Applejack nodded her head, a small smile crossing her face as she looked back at the princess. “I’ve been doing a lot better. A lot of that is thanks ‘t you, Twilight. I just want ya to know that I’m really grateful for you puttin’ up with me over the past few weeks.”

Twilight shook her head with a small laugh. “Applejack, of all the words I could use to describe our time together, ‘me putting up with them’ would not be on that list. I’ve really enjoyed spending all of this time with you.”

Applejack laughed, but the noise made Twilight turn toward her friend. It wasn’t Applejack’s normal laugh. The normal Applejack Laugh was hearty—it came from her hooves, and contained every ounce of her strength. It was one of the defining characteristics of her, as a person. This new laugh—it was more… natural. It wasn’t as forced, and more… the more Twilight thought about it, the clearer the answer was: Twilight just heard Applejack giggle. Before now, she wasn’t even sure that Applejack could giggle.

“Is somethin’ the matter, hon?” Applejack asked, tilting her head at Twilight’s unusual glare. “You’re kinda starin’.”

Twilight shook her head, shaking the train of thought away, so she could focus on the present. “Sorry. I was just thinking.” Applejack wasn’t quite satisfied with her answer, so she asked the obvious question: “What about?”

“Well…” If Twilight had learned anything from her friend over the past three weeks, it was the importance of honesty. She learned that if a friend is truly a friend, you can tell them anything. They might not always like it, but they’ll never judge you for it. “You just seem different. Not a bad different—and maybe you’ve always been this way, and I haven’t noticed, but you seem more relaxed. Maybe we’ve just gotten closer, or maybe it’s because you’re about to finish up with this tough season… I don’t know. There’s just something different.”

Applejack nodded, looking back out at the sunset. “I know what you’re sayin’, Twi. I’ve noticed it too. I’m not quite sure what it is, but all I know is that we aren’t quite the same anymore. That—that ain’t a bad thing, is it?” she asked, quickly turning back to her friend for confirmation.

Twilight stood there, a moment, thinking of an answer. She honestly didn’t know if it was a bad thing or not. Change, of course, was a natural part of life. Ponies evolved over time, their personalities and tastes being fine-tuned through experience and trials. But to change so much in such little time, it probably wasn’t healthy. But then again, this change wasn’t exactly bad. Applejack seemed happier, on the whole. Yes, the apparent spacing out and not keeping appointments wasn’t great, but AJ truly did seem to be happier… Finally, Twilight settled on the only answer she could give: “As long as you’re happy, AJ, I think it’s great.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~