What We Don't Talk About

by Silent Whisper

Rating: teen
Tags: Violence, Dark, Death, Applejack, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rarity, Romance
Length: 6795

Rarity and Applejack put the romance in necromancy.

Rarity and Applejack put the romance in necromancy.

A gift for Novelle Tale.

CW: Unhealthy relationships, descriptions of murder/death (bloodless), necromancy (duh), implied suicidal intentions at one point (never made explicit).

Does NOT contain necrophilia or sex of any sort. (Didn't think I'd have to spell that out, but here we are...)

Published 2024-03-02 01:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2024-03-02 01:40:01 UTC

One Track Mind, One Track Heart

“You’ve changed, Rarity.”

I looked up from my desk, irritation fading only slightly at the sight of my sister standing in the doorway of my workshop. It wasn’t as though I’d told her before not to interrupt me when I was in the middle of my design process! Oh, no, my darling sister would never disregard such simple instructions!

I pasted a smile onto my face, hastily jotting down whatever I could mentally salvage of my current idea on a scrap of drafting paper before swiveling around to face her.

“Whatever do you mean, Sweetie?” I waved a hoof, my magic still humming as objects flit about the room, needles diving beneath fabrics, tugging threads along their trails, creating portions of my latest masterpiece simultaneously. Seamlessly, one could say! “I apologize if I’ve missed a commitment, I’ve been rather busy as of late. The deadline for Mare’s Mirror Magazine’s cover is next week, and Applejack and I have been-”

“No, it’s not that you missed anything. Ugh, it’s just… something. I don’t know how to put it!” My little sister gestured wildly in frustration, narrowly missing swatting a few bobbins out of alignment.

For a second, a nasty part of me wished she’d accidentally smack something sharp and learn to keep out of my workspace, but I willed the thought from my brain as soon as it appeared. I must be graceful and polite.

“If you aren’t quite certain how to put it, I’m afraid I can’t be of assistance!” I tittered and pointedly turned back towards my work. “I do apologize, but I am in the middle of something important, and it really does take quite a lot of focus to do so much at once.” A lie, for that last part at least as I wasn’t straining myself at all, but a believable enough one.

Sweetie Belle huffed behind me, and I could hear her stomping hooffalls approach me. “See, this is what I’m talking about! You didn’t used to be like this!”

“Busy?” I offered halfheartedly, trying to make sense of my previous note, most of the details faded from my memory.

She groaned and prodded my chair with her hoof, spinning me slightly towards her. “No! You were always busy, and it’s always been hard to get you to spend time with me and pay actual attention to me, but you weren’t always so, so fake about it!”

“You want me to be less kind, then? Or less passionate about my work? Running a business here takes quite a lot of energy, I’m afraid!”

That made her pause, and I relished the silence, trying to regain my previous momentum for the brief moments while it lasted. “N-no, I just want you to be my sister. You haven’t been the same since the, uh, the accident a while back. And since you left, it’s only gotten worse. You’ve closed yourself off to everypony but Applejack, like she’s the only one that matters, and-”

“Darling,” I tried, looking over my shoulder at her as the room slowed to a standstill. “If you wanted more time with me, all you had to do was ask! I’m afraid I’m dreadfully busy at the moment, but after next week I should have plenty of time to spend with you! And only you, I promise,” I added with a wink. “I shan't even mention Applejack during our time together unless you’d like me to!”

“That’s not what I-” Sweetie bit her tongue and looked away, expression unreadable to all but me. She was unhappy, sure, but it was with something she couldn’t name, something she had no idea how to bring up, and I wasn’t going to do it for her. “I mean, sure. I’ll talk to you then. Sorry to bother you, sis.” She backed out of my workshop with a muted shuffle, and I gently closed the door behind her before letting out the sigh I’d been holding in.

Slowly, as though puppeted by invisible strings, the workshop stirred back to its previous efficiency. I watched as the pattern came together, smaller sections of fabric weaving into larger ones, fitting like a puzzle enchanted to solve itself. The creation process was as much of a dress’s elegance as the final piece, and it was one that I’d debated showing to the public if I weren’t fairly certain the novelty would eventually wear off in time. I knew my audience, and the final product was all they truly cared about, in the end.

I spun back to my half-forgotten idea and tried to mentally reconstruct where I had been going with it. Shimmering like scales in a sea of what, exactly? Oh, I might as well reuse that part in something else at a later date, it was that far gone. Thank you oh so very much for your untimely interruption, Sweetie Belle, I mentally cursed as I pressed my hooftips together. You’ve completely ruined my creative flow for the day.

The finished dress floated onto a mannequin behind me and I rose to my hooves to study it. It looked as though it’d been made of the pages of a journal, with the fluttering edges stopping just short of the floor for an average pony. The tips of each “page” looked as though they’d been burnt, though that had been accomplished by careful application of dye on the soft fabric of the pages themselves, with the script itself embroidered in a fashion that would take the average pony countless hours of continuous effort, even with the use of magic.

I’d done it in less than one.

It was pretty enough, and intriguing enough to catch a pony’s eye, so it wasn’t a total failure. There were better ideas to be had, and I knew I must’ve been on to something greater, something worthy of a cover page, but I just couldn’t remember what it was I’d been thinking.

Setting the dress carefully to one side, I trotted out the door of my workshop, humming idly to myself as I made my way to the Manehattan Boutique proper. The steady thrum of the lobby music took over, unconsciously bidding my customers and I alike to step in time to its upbeat rhythm, giving all but the truly musically uninclined a natural sense of carefully-paced urgency. I closed my eyes to clear my head during the last few moments of peace I’d likely feel for the rest of the workday, and my sister’s words returned unbidden to my mind.

You’ve changed, Rarity.

Forcing my cheeks into a smile with just the right amount of sincerity, I stepped into the waiting storefront. My sister was simply naive, blinded from youth and inexperience to the truth of the world. She just couldn’t see that I’d changed for the better.

If I Fail, I'll Fall Apart

It wasn’t a terribly long walk from my Manehattan Boutique to our apartment, yet after I’d closed up and thanked my exhausted employees for their hard work, it might as well have been all the way across the city for how far it felt.

I drifted between the streetlamps, watching my shadows shorten and lengthen before another replaced them. Most of the harsh neon signs of the district had been flicked off, leaving my coat washed out in urban gold, a color that made me hasten my hoofsteps towards home.

I could smell home before I’d even opened the door. A wave of warming spices welcomed me in the long dingy hallway, ginger and curry and fennel. My magic hesitated at the doorknob for a moment, taking in the moment of everyday anticipation before I twisted it open and stepped into the glow of tasteful lamps and green eyes.

“Welcome home, Rares,” Applejack said, hastily turning to untie her apron as she trotted out of the kitchen. “Ah hope today went well for ya. Didja get that design sorted out?”

“Not hardly,” I laughed, flicking the dust of the Manehattan streets off my tail before kicking the door shut behind me. “My sister provided a rather unscheduled interruption, and I lost the idea I’d been formulating.”

“Aw, well, Ah’m sorry to hear that.” Applejack tossed the flour-dusted apron over a chair before she wrapped her hoof around my shoulders, careful to not muss my mane as she nuzzled against my neck. “Ah know this one’s important to ya, them finally recognizing ya means ya wanna get it perfect, right?”

“Indeed.” I pressed a feather-light kiss to her forehead and sighed against the bandana she’d wrapped around her mane to keep it out of the food she’d been cooking. “I mean, it’s as important as any other magazine, but this is my debut in this one. It must be spectacular if I am to get consistent recognition, and this one’s quite popular in Las Pegasus, so we’d expand our reputation quite a bit!”

Applejack hummed contentedly, muzzle half-buried in my still-perfect curls. “Ah see,” she said softly, and I could hear the unspoken words behind it, just as she knew I could. She didn’t fully understand, but she cared anyway since it mattered to me, genuine and loving. “If it helps, supper should be almost finished in the oven, if ya care t-”

“Dinner,” I said softly, letting a bit of exhaustion creep into my voice as I pulled away to head to the shower. “Would be wonderful, dearest. Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you!”

“Dinner, yeah,” My wife repeated, rolling the word around in her mouth as she watched me go. “Dinner will be ready in a few. Ah’ll set the table, okay? Once yer done, Ah-”

Her words were drowned out by the shower as I turned on the water and waited for it to heat, watching it run down the drain. Slowly, I let my smile drop, feeling the ache in my cheeks as it fell. It wasn’t Applejack’s fault, of course, as she was one of the few ponies that still made me beam without any true effort on my part, but my entire face ached after a day of faking it.

The pinpricks of hot water pulled a groan from my lips as I sagged against the cheaply-tiled wall. The idea I’d had earlier, it still bothered me. What if it’d been the one that would’ve stuck with ponies? Even if all of it wasn’t perfect, what if it would’ve led me in a new direction? I rested my damp cheek against the shower wall, letting the water rinse out the smog and sweat from the day from my coat. It wasn’t fair that a simple interruption had made that afternoon’s progress vanish like smoke from my mind.

She was probably worried because she thought I’d lost myself in chasing a dream, but what she didn’t understand, what nopony but Applejack understood, was that this was the dream.

This was the proverbial it.

This was the everyday reward for my success, the strings of mane clinging to my face and wrapping around my neck, product and dust alike washing in rivulets down my legs. My legs and neck ached as I bent down to snag the scrubbing brush and lifted a bar of soap to my fur.

It wasn’t glorious, and it wasn’t dazzling, but it was the chance to try again every day, the opportunity to keep reaching, to forever reach, because staying at the top required constant effort, lest the achiever discover how short the public’s attention span truly was.

I shook my mane and raised a stiff hoof to massage the suds into my scalp. With the bustle of the boutique during peak hours, any remnants of that idea, something about scales or something, had faded to a nagging frustration that just wouldn’t wash away. Ugh! Sweetie just didn’t understand, nopony understood, except for maybe-

“Hey, darlin’, dinner’s on the table,” Applejack’s voice rose over the shower’s noise. “Are ya almost done? Don’t want it gettin’ cold.”

“Oh! Yes, I am, I promise!” I called out, having to force a smile from creeping up my sore cheeks. “I’ll be right out, dearest!”

If my wife replied, then I couldn’t hear her over the sounds of rushing water against my skull as I rinsed out my mane and tail. It wouldn’t do to leave her waiting, so I turned off the shower and let myself drip in the rapidly-chilling air before I stepped out into the frigidity of the room-temperature air. Quickly toweling myself off, I trotted my damp self over to the dinner table where Applejack waited patiently next to my chair.

“Terribly sorry for the delay. I hope I haven’t kept you for too long,” I said, managing a tired smile as I looked down at the golden crust of baked something on my plate. “This smells simply divine!”

Applejack grinned as she pushed in my chair, all but glowing with pride. “Ah hope it tastes as good as it smells! It’s a curry-filled bread, based on a recipe from Saddle Arabia, which Ah heard is growin’ in popularity around the other ponyfolk here, an’ I know ya like bein’ on the cutting edge of trends, and Ah’ve heard curry’s very adaptable ta a lot of flavors, so…” She sat down opposite me and raised her glass with an expectant nod. “Dig in, an’ let me know how Ah did!”

She didn’t need to tell me twice! I lifted the steaming pastry with my magic and took a dainty bite, felt the flavors bloom onto my tongue and warm my throat and stomach, and disregarded my usual poise in favor of getting as much of the bread into my mouth as I realistically could.

My wife chuckled and took a bite of her own, nodding with satisfaction at it. “Ah’ll take that as a high compliment, then, if yer so busy eatin’ ya can’t stop ta answer! There’s really so much ya can do with it, too! Ya can add coffee ta round out the flavor and add a bit of bitterness, or honey ta sweeten it up, or, uh.” Her expression remained the same, but her voice dimmed ever so slightly. “Or apples, too. Lots of options, there.”

I set down the remaining crust of my food and met her gaze, studying it for a moment. “Oh? It sounds like a new dinner favorite. I look forward to trying the many variations.” I light my horn to brush a strand of her mane away from her face and nod knowingly. “And I do mean all the variations, darling.”

“Yeah, alright.” Applejack let out a slow breath before lifting her curry bread back up to her muzzle, tilting it so the curry wouldn’t spill out too much as she studied it. “Y’know, ya mentioned that Sweetie Belle came ta visit ya? Ah got a call from Apple Bloom this afternoon. She’s in the area, they’re both here to see Scootaloo in some show, Ah suspect, an’ she wanted to stop by tomorrow mornin’.”

“Of course,” I said graciously, before letting out a teasing huff. “If only Sweetie thought to call ahead before she visited. She really should take a lesson from her- hm, are they still calling it friendship, Applejack? Has your sister said anything on the matter?”

“Ah dunno,” My wife took a few gulps from her water before standing up, grabbing her plate and then coming around the table to clear my place as well. “She hasn’t said one way or the other if it’s anythin’ more than that. Suspect she wouldn’t be the first ta say, so if you haven’t heard any rumors or nothing, Ah couldn’t tell ya.”

I slumped forward at my place, letting my eyes drift shut, my chest warmed still from supper, distracting me somewhat from my fatigue. “I haven’t heard a thing. Honestly, she didn’t even mention the others from our Terrible Trio were visiting at all! She just stumbled over saying that I’ve changed, that I’m not the same, and never got around to saying why that was a problem.”

Silence greeted me from across the kitchenette, and I gave it a few seconds before I opened my eyes to watch Applejack carefully not look back at me, focusing on preparing the dishes to soak.

Her muzzle tightened, and I knew she could feel me watching her, and I knew from her stance that she didn’t know what to say, what she was supposed to say or even how she felt.

A wise pony, my mother, once told me that the secret to a good marriage is communication. A questionably wiser pony, my father, had then chimed in that the secret to a great marriage is an occasional lack thereof. My mother had thrown a pillow at him for that, but I wasn’t entirely sure he was wrong. Some subjects, no matter the couple, were better left undiscussed.

“Dearest,” I began, but Applejack held up a hoof.

“Ah’m not gonna say that yer a problem, don’ worry, because Ah don’t think ya are. What Sweetie Belle thinks ain’t what matters, in the end. On the day when, uh.” Applejack peered into the bubbles, seeking answers in their iridescent surfaces as though a thousand soap-bound crystal balls could somehow give her the right words for it. “When she was probably referrin’ to. That first incident, that accident of yours and all that came after it, before ya left Ponyville. Do ya regret it?”

I didn't have to think about my answer. There was only one I could give. “I do not. Not one bit. Do you?”

“Naw,” My wife replied, expression hardening a tiny bit. “Never, not fer one second. Ah think we made the right decisions, Ah really do, and Ah, mm, Ah really don’t think they’d understand at all even if we did try to explain it better. Ya know Ah’m by your side no matter what, Ah know you know that, so what they think don’t really matter here. What matters is you an’ me.”

“You and me,” I repeated, and stepped around her to wrap her in a sideways hug, nuzzling my face and unkempt half-dry mane against her own tied-back one. Some topics didn't merit discussion, but other words bore repeating as often as the listener could stand to hear them. “You know I love you more than anything, right?”

My wife blushed, still, after years of hearing me say it, and that warmed me inside more than her cooking. “Ah know. Ah love ya back, an every day Ah try ta show it, and-”

“But you don’t understand, dearest! I do see it!” I hugged her tighter before gently turning her face to face me, wanting her to see my genuine earnestness. “Everything you do for me, everything you’ve given me and everything you’ve given up for me! I know nopony else understands that, just like they don’t understand why I work so hard to become who I am, to get where I am now, but I appreciate it more than words can say.”

“Mmh, Ah know,” She said, and tried to turn back toward the dishes, but I could see the slight internal conflict tugging at her expression and I knew what she was desperate to hear.

“I need you, Applejack.” I whisper, and kiss her on the nose tenderly. “More than anything, more than breath, I rely on you, and I always will. I wouldn’t be where I am today without you, dearest, and I want to see you happy more than anything.”

She let out a shaky breath before mustering up a tiny genuine smile, one just for me. “Ah need ya too, Rares, an’ I won’t let anythin’ stand in the way of yer happiness, ya hear?” Her hoof tucked a strand of unkempt mane out of my eyes.

“Consider it heard!” I giggled and snatched up a hoof towel from the oven’s handle and posed dramatically next to the sink, holding the towel aloft like a trophy. “You wash and I’ll dry, alright?”

Applejack laughed at that, and turned back to the dishes, and for the moment, all frustrations from the day disappeared, save for an unspoken race between my wife’s expert washing speed vs my exhausted attempts at keeping up with the dish-drying.

In the end, as with most things, we matched each other perfectly.

Maybe It Is All A Test

“I just can’t stop thinking about it!” I whined as quietly as I could, making my wife peer up from her book over the covers at me.

“What about?” She yawned, bookmarking her page but not setting it aside yet, probably waiting to see how big my complaint was. She knew me so well.

Unfortunately for her novel, it wasn’t a minor issue that was bothering me. “The idea! My creativity has improved since we moved away from the distractions of Ponyville, and I can split my focus like no other pony to create whatever I have in mind, but how can I possibly meet the demands of everypony if I can’t remember the fleeting ideas I come up with?”

“The idea from earlier? The one yer sister interrupted, right?” Applejack leaned back against the headboard and held a hoof to her chin, a bit conflicted. “Ain’t ya got lots of ideas, though? I mean, look at how well yer doin’ now! That one magazine, the Mare-Mirror one, they requested yer designs for their cover! They wouldn’t if they didn’t think ya got what they want!”

“Maybe I did!” I threw my hooves up, and then winced at the ache. It didn’t matter, my emotions were too much to be constrained to movements that wouldn’t make my sore body complain along with me a bit. “That’s the whole problem, dearest! Maybe that was the idea that would’ve led me to something new, something unexpected and yet exactly what they’re looking for! And now it’s gone.” I slouched forward and groaned.

I felt the covers rustle as Applejack shrugged. “It ain’t a disaster, that’s just how the creative process goes sometimes, far as I get it. Everypony deals with it, even ponies that get close ta bein’ at yer level, dearest.” A warm hoof rubbed my shoulder soothingly.

“I know, but-”

“Besides, even if it ain’t perfect, whatever idea ya do come up with will delight them, Ah’m sure. They won’t know what they’ll never see.” Applejack’s laugh was gentle, considerate, and not at all what I wanted to hear at the moment.

I levered myself up to a rumpled sitting position and pouted. “It isn’t just this magazine that I’m worried about! It’s the next deadline, the next design, and the ones after that! Why, everypony hits a creative plateau sometimes, and when that happens I’ll be at the mercy of the public’s whims!” Shuddering, I pulled aside the covers and got to my hooves. “I need them, Applejack. I need the ideas I keep losing, for the days when I don’t have enough.”

“Where ya goin’, Rares?” The tired drawl of my wife’s voice was edged with something, a level of attentiveness that made my heart race with anxiety. There was, after all, a downside to somepony knowing me nearly as well as I knew myself.

“Just to the bathroom, darling!” I walked out of the bedroom, casually stumbling a bit, muscles still stiff. “Going to splash some water on my face, and maybe get a drink on my way back. Let me know if you want anything while I’m up, alright?” My pace quickened the moment I was out of her sight, and I all but galloped to turn on the bathroom light and root through the medicine cabinet.

The sleeping pills weren’t among the vitamins and supplements. Neither were the pain meds, though I faintly remembered having a few after supper, so their misplacement was likely my fault. I bent down to look under the sink cabinet, and scowled at the cleaning supplies, or rather, the lack thereof. There was toilet paper, certainly, but nothing that would help-

“Y’know, Ah like to think Ah know ya, Rares. An’ one thing Ah know about ya?” A hoof firmly yanked me out from the cabinet, hard enough for my rump to smack against the wall with a muted thud. “Yer a terrible liar, even after all this time, ‘least to me.”

“I wasn’t!” I yelped, bracing myself against the bathroom wall, slamming the cabinet door shut with a bit more force than necessary. “Looking for the cup! That’s all I was doing!”

“Bull,” The most beautiful mare in Equestria snapped, jade-green eyes glaring daggers into mine. “We gotta talk about this. It’s a normal problem yer facin’, Rarity. Ponies forget ideas all the time, then remember they had ‘em later on, or they don’t, and then they’re all the same fer forgettin’.”

I dusted myself off and fixed the bath mat I’d half-flipped, determined to stand my ground. “It is normal, yes, but I can’t be merely normal! Not in Manehattan or anywhere else that matters, not when I’m competing against entire agencies and studios full of creative minds! I’m so close, Applejack, you know that!”

She took one step towards me, and I felt the faux tile tremble with the force of her stomp. “Close to what? We both know there ain’t a top ta this here mountain yer climbin’! Ah respect that, and Ah understand yer gonna keep going no matter what, but yer still just one pony doin’ the work of many!”

“But I’m not one pony!” I press one hoof against her chest, trying not to dwell on the softness of her fur, the warmth underneath it. “We’re both in this, you and me, and I need to be the best I can be if I’m going to be anything here. I need every boost I can get!”

“Yer everything to me,” Applejack replied, her voice all the more forceful for how suddenly gentle it was. An internal war raged in her eyes, one I was secretly grateful I wasn’t privy to. “And yer already the best pony Ah could ever ask for.” She snorted and stomped off towards the kitchen. “Ya don’t need a boost, ya just need to think straight fer once. If ponies are judging ya for not keeping up with entire teams of designers singlehoofedly, they can buck themselves.”

I sniffled and angrily wiped at my eyes in case any traitorous tears started to form. “I can’t help it, okay? I can’t help wanting to be better, to be more than I already am. You see the best in me, dearest, but you can’t see all the ways I need to be better! I can’t…” My vision wavered and I wiped at my eyes again.

I heard a cabinet creak open from the direction of the kitchen. “Ya can’t what?” Applejack called after I floundered to reorder my thoughts as best as I could.

“I can’t go back.” I straighten myself up as much as I can and try to ignore the teary-eyed mess in the mirror. “I can’t go back to who I was. I can’t go back to Ponyville and be the humble little Rarity I used to be because it’ll feel like I failed. I’ve gotten this far, we’ve gotten this far together. I can’t stop now, I just can’t!” A few tears streaked down my cheeks as I bent over the sink, avoiding my own gaze, mane falling in a tangled mess over my eyes. “I’m going to go as far as I can, and I’d-” My throat chokes up for a moment and I swallow to try again. “I can’t do it alone, Applejack.”

A sigh came from the bathroom doorway, resigned and tired. “But yer gonna try somethin’, anythin’ if it means you’ll get to keep tryin’ again tomorrow. Ah’ve always loved that about you, that ya don’t settle for second best when ya could be getting first. Yer dream’s like a swim against a current that never has a destination, but ya ain’t gonna let that stop ya.”

“You-” A sniffle made my mane flutter in front of my face and I didn't move to fix it. “You know, most ponies think that’s annoying, or that I’m stupid for trying for something I can’t definitively win. But you really love that about me?”

A hoof rested on my shoulder as I heard her set a cup on the bathroom counter, and I heard Applejack take a deep breath in. “Yeah. Ah really do. We're the same, in that way. You'll never stop goin' for it, and I'll never stop supporting you.”

Her other hoof cupped my chin, raising my head up as she massaged my jaw, and only then did I realize that I’d been clenching it. I felt her stance shift as she pulled me closer and relaxed against her, taking deep breaths to try to calm down. “I’m sorry,” I whispered as the hoof on my jaw trailed up my cheek, brushing against my unruly mane.

“Don’t be,” Applejack said quietly, and her soft hoof rubbed a little circle on my cheek right before she wrenched it, twisting my head towards her in a sudden jerk, her other hoof around my shoulders bracing my body against the countertop.

Time slowed to a crawl as a crack reverberated through my skull. I tried to gasp but there was nothing there, it was as though there’s nothing to gasp with.

My body felt tingly and indistinct and wrong. I got the distinct sense I should be far more worried about that than I was as I felt a dizzying sensation of falling.

The room spun, and then it was sideways.

An orange hoof pulled back my mane, and there was Applejack.

She looked like she was trying to say something. All I could hear was the blood rushing to my head, roaring like rapids.

Green eyes, the most perfect green eyes looked into my own, and they’re the last thing I could make out as the room dims.

I can't hear my heartbeat, I faintly thought with an odd sense of hollow amusement. I thought I'd feel it for sure before I-

Everything shut off like a hoof flicking a light switch.

Cause I Feel Like I'm The Worst

There was nothing.

Contrary to popular belief, there was literally nothing awaiting ponies after… well, after. It was something which defied all attempts to explain. It would almost be easier describing what it was not than what it was.

It wasn’t like floating in a sea of blackness, because floating implied any sort of sensation, and blackness implied something other than blackness.

It wasn’t like going home, or anything to do with warmth, because there was neither heat nor a lack thereof. There simply wasn't, for everything.

It wasn’t like a tunnel, or like meeting an old friend, or like anything at all, because there were no senses or sense of defined self in in the after.

There was simply nothing.

And then there was Applejack.

Ah invoke by right of the earth, as a mare of the earth and earth alone, an’ as a part of the cycle like all others who belong to it.

There had always been Applejack.

Ah call, an’ the earth listens. We are all formed of the earth, and we all return to the earth when it is our time. That is the way of things, an’ an earth pony knows ‘n desires no other.

There was only Applejack.

Ah call for a pony who has rejoined the earth and all those that rest. Ah invoke the earth on behalf of Rarity Belle, formerly of Ponyville, now of Manehattan. She is remembered, and remembered so.

And then there was Rarity, because Applejack willed it from the nothingness.

Rarity is generous, persistent, and beautiful.

Just as she had after the accident, when she’d been found trapped under bolts of cloth in her Ponyville home, smothered and still.

She is focused and creative, able to multitask while still stayin’ organized.

And after the original Carousel Boutique closed.

She is graceful and polite, an’ especially good at readin’ ponies and what they’re really feeling.

And after she moved to Manehattan with Applejack.

She’s good at findin’ different ways to achieve her goals, and Ah swear she can do the work of many without breakin’ a sweat.

And after she reopened her Boutique, and faced the criticism of a public who didn’t care what she’d been through, only that she keep rising ever higher.

An’... Rarity never forgets her ideas, and she’s able to find inspiration wherever she is, if she looks hard enough.

And now, for whatever value “now” had in nothingness.

Ah call to the earth for Rarity, as remembered, so she was and is.

Every time, she was remembered as more. But that was just the way of things, wasn’t it? If Applejack remembered Rarity as such, what could disprove the Honest truth?

Rarity must be returned to the cycle, for it ain’t yet time for her to be released from it. Ah accept that all things must end, but Rarity is not yet the earth’s. She is mine, and Ah refuse her the right of rest.

There was not only Applejack and Rarity, now, there was something. A pressure, almost, surrounding all that was Rarity, all that had been defined as Rarity, like a hoof scooping up a worm from the soil.

Ah invoke as Applejack.

All that was Rarity was moving, without any sense of direction or anything to be relative to, but somehow Rarity was moving all the same.

Return to me what is mine!

There was a blooming sensation, like a drop of dye in water, expanding to fill out all the edges of something new.

Then there was black and there was pain, for to all that was Rarity there now existed the possibility of their absence, and there was now time and a now to feel them in, along with a rushing noise, like weary machinery being started up once more.

And with it came a faint thumping of a heartbeat.

So I Always Act Like I'm The Best

Everything hurt, and not in the way it had ached before- well, before. It stung, as though every one of my muscles had fallen asleep and were now coming back from numbness. My neck, however, burned with a stretching sort of agony I’d only felt a few times before.

Oddly enough, my chest fur felt wet, and as a painful ringing in my ears crescendoed and faded, I could hear a familiar voice crying softly.

I stayed quiet, despite my jaw muscles clenching and unclenching back to functionality, my tongue feeling far too large and alien inside my mouth before fading back to my senses’ periphery. She once said she’d never wanted me to see her cry, so I tried to wake up as slowly and obviously as possible.

For her sake, of course.

After a few moments, I gave a weak little cough, and then a genuine one forced its way out of my lungs, and the crying immediately stopped. Two hooves helped roll me over to my side as I took in great unladylike wheezing breaths, curling up on myself as full sensation slowly returned to my limbs. Light bloomed behind my eyelids and I waited for the pain of any sensation at all to dull before I forced them open.

“Rares?” A voice whispered, still loud enough it hurt my ears. I twitched my hoof towards my neck, and one of hers gently grasped it for a moment before lifting it up to my neck, pressing it gently against my pulse. “Yer alright, yer safe, it’s all okay.”

“How long was I out?” I tried to ask, and managed a few mangled syllables as my muscles tried to remember how speech worked.

This was far from the first time, and Applejack knew me, knew who I was better than anypony. She was the only one who did. “Only about an hour, darlin’. Deep breaths now. Y’alright if I move you to the bed? Ah tried to towel ya off as best I could after washin’ ya since you, uh, made a mess on the floor a bit when ya fell, but yer probably still pretty chilly even if ya don't feel it yet.”

I scrunched up my muzzle as much as I could to brace myself as my olfactory senses returned, but all I could smell was the faint lingering scent of jasmine, no other trace of any instinctive accidents that may or may not have happened while I was, er, out. “That would be lovely,” I tried to say, which came out as half a pained groan of agreement.

“Alright, Ah’ll be gentle as Ah can, promise.” I felt her nuzzle gently against my side, and then nose herself underneath me, settling me onto her back before slowly, steadily walking towards the bedroom. She was gentle, just as promised.

It still hurt like hell.

I sighed as she flopped me back onto the mattress and laid down beside me, wrapping her hooves around me almost gingerly, as though she were afraid I’d flinch away. Instead I took a deep breath in, slowly let it out, and shakily pet her hoof with my own.

We’d never talked about it. Applejack never mentioned what had happened at all, not the first time and not since, and I’d never told her what I’d heard, or been able to hear. Both between us and in front of everypony else, it was always an accident that I’d barely survived, or a stress reaction that made me pass out before she found me, or a fainting episode, or a bad dream. It had been years since we moved away from Ponyville, but it had never so much as come up as a topic. Not between us, anyways.

I wondered if that thought should have bothered me more than it did. Instead, I wrapped the hooves that had twisted my neck earlier a bit tighter around my torso and tried to fall asleep. I needed her, and she wanted me to be happy more than anything. There was no need to complicate things, not when it was me and her.

Sleep didn’t come, despite my exhaustion, and I didn’t hear Applejack’s breathing slow either. She just held me in her hooves and we watched the dawn-cast shadows creep up the wall through the blinds. It was peaceful. Everything was just as we wanted it to be. It was perfect.

Idly, I let my mind wander from the colors of the sunrise to the idea I’d thought of the previous day, and found I had no problems recalling it at all. Metallic flashes on gossamer, shimmering like scales in a sea of clouds, I mused to myself as Applejack rubbed my side tenderly. Ridiculous, on its own at the very least, I mentally decided, letting my eyes slide shut, but maybe it’ll come in handy someday.

It was okay. I had time to figure it out. All the ideas I'd had earlier felt within mental reach now, my mind clearer than it had been in a very long time.

A knock at the door jolted me from my reverie, and I felt the mattress shift as Applejack rose, groaning tiredly, to answer it, and sleep finally beckoned to me at last. The Boutique could wait for a few hours, I decided as I tugged the corner of a blanket over me, filling the void Applejack left.

The world drifted in and out, and I could just make out snippets of words as my wife talked with what sounded enough like Apple Bloom that it put my mind at ease.

“Ah heard it, ya know.”

“Heard what, AB? Quiet now, Rares is still sleepin’ a bit.”

“Somethin’ from the earth. Somethin’ wrong, sis, and it ain’t the first time Ah’ve heard it.”

"Sounds like a problem fer somepony else. Ah ain't heard nothing. Didja just come to visit to tell me about feelings, or is there something else ya wanted to discuss?"

I wasn’t worried, and buried my head into my pillow, almost, but not quite, drowning out a little sigh from a worried sibling that sounded like an echo of my own.

“You’ve changed, Applejack, ya know that?”

Everypony else was all the same. They just wouldn’t understand us. All we had was each other, in sickness and in health, for rich or for poor.

Til’ death do us part.

And knowing us, not even that could slow us down.