Uncertainty
A Side Story to The Mailbox

July 14th

Twilight yawned loudly, stretching out her back and her wings before resolutely closing the library’s log book. She shook the fog from her mind and smiled, standing and glancing fondly around the main room of the library. She walked slowly to the stairs and headed up, ready for a good night’s sleep.

The stairs rose in front of her, twisting away in the gentle spiral ingrained in her memory, up and up, past the storage rooms in the tree that seemed endless, the dull thunk of hoof to riser her only background noise. The ascent stretched on, turning endlessly.

Curious, Twilight looked around herself; the library wasn’t this tall. Passing another spare room, she found the door open and looked inside. She stopped with one hoof raised for the next stair, eyes wide and disbelieving.

Through the doorway sat her bed, the covers straight and tidy, pulled comfortably up to…her lap. A large book sat open in Twilight’s hindlegs as she leaned comfortably back into Applejack. Applejack leaned into the headboard, resting her chin in Twilight’s mane and gently hugging the mare close. She listened to Twilight read, the words a vague hum on the other Twilight’s ears, nuzzling into the long and straight mane.

Twilight blinked slowly, watching herself snuggle with Applejack. She looked so content and at home in those muscled legs. She took a step up and felt her hoof go further down than she was expecting. She stumbled and glanced up. She was in a room surrounded by open doorways, the warm and inviting glow of lantern light on the living wood stilling her confusion and drawing her around the circle at a lazy pace.

The bed-sheets in the second room were rumpled and messy, pulled away from the mattress with wild abandon. Twilight loomed above Rainbow Dash, a mischievous glint in her eye, pinning the grinning mare to the bed. Rainbow shoved against the blankets and the two twisted, giggling and rolling until the pegasus was on top. Twilight’s horn lit up with magic and they flipped positions again.

Rainbow raised her head and pulled the Twilight in the room into a kiss, one that made the watching Twilight blush darkly. It was not a kiss of affection or camaraderie; it was a kiss of hunger and need. Rainbow’s wings wrapped around Twilight’s back and the two pressed in close, chest to chest. Twilight saw just as much hunger on her own face as she did on Rainbow’s.

Through the next door, Twilight found herself using Pinkie Pie’s tummy as a pillow, stretched out across the bed. Pinkie giggled as the Twilight inside mimicked the gurgling noises she could hear. Pinkie’s laughter grew louder as Twilight turned her head and blew a wet raspberry into the pony’s coat.

The next door made her pause again. Her mane was up in curlers, held in place from a soft glow of magic provided by Rarity. The two chatted warmly together on top of the mattress, the smiles on their faces made brighter and more affectionate whenever their hooves drifted close, the shared contact lingering and meaningful.

At the last door before the circle completed, Twilight paused. Reluctance to continue and curiosity pulled and fought, freezing her in place. Information proved too important, too compulsively needed, to turn her away.

Blankets were pulled up to Twilight’s chin, the glow of sickness turning her face ruddy and making her brow softly shine with sweat. Fluttershy sat at the edge of the bed and slowly spooned broth to Twilight’s muzzle, patting down the ill mare’s face with a cool cloth and smiling with affection and care. The sick Twilight smiled at Fluttershy, her expression the strained one of somepony who felt bad enough to never want to move again, but good enough to be endlessly grateful to their caretaker. Fluttershy leaned down and kissed Twilight’s brow.

The circle complete, Twilight wandered aimlessly, glancing back into rooms she had seen, looking for the next path to take. The first door froze her in her tracks again.

Wings joined hooves in hugging Twilight from behind as she read. Rainbow nuzzled into Twilight’s mane, the large book now clear: a Daring Do novel, the seventh if she wasn’t mistaken. The two sat together, peaceful and content, a mirror to the scene with Applejack before, but different as well, a hint of playfulness in both of their expressions Twilight didn’t notice the first time through.

Hurrying, she checked the second door and blushed again.

Applejack pinned Twilight down, the raw bulk of muscle and strength making it easy, effortless. Their hungry kiss controlled by the powerful mare, Twilight clung to Applejack, yearning and desperate.

Twilight whirled around and was nearly blinded by the harsh light. She glanced up and squinted in the cold and artificial glow of bluish white above her head. She shifted her gaze down and blinked the stars from her eyes. The warm floor of the tree looked gray and unwelcoming in the glare. A quiet sniffle drew her attention and she turned towards it, wandering through the light.

Twilight found herself again, sitting in the middle of the room. The other Twilight whimpered, hugging herself with her forelegs and wings, rocking back and forth on her haunches. Old trails of tears ran down the pony’s face, joined frequently by new ones.

Twilight set her hoof soothingly on her doppelganger’s back and murmured, “What’s wrong?”

“Alone,” she answered hollowly, the voice not coming from her lips but from around them both, echoing, dull and listless.

Twilight’s eyes went wide in sudden realization. She turned in place, looking back through the doors that were no longer in front of her but still burned bright in her mind’s eye. She looked back at the crying version of herself.

“Alone forever.”

Twilight took a tremulous step back and swallowed thickly.

In all five rooms, in all the versions of herself with her friends turned maybe lovers, she had still been a unicorn.

Twilight bolted upright in the stark hotel room, a surprised gasp escaping her lips. She took an unsteady breath and brushed the bangs away from her eyes. In the bare room, kept wintery with air conditioners to rival Box Mart, she hugged herself. It wasn’t warm enough, so her wings soon joined.

In the dark and silent hours of the morning, Twilight rocked back and forth on the unfamiliar bed as confused and helpless tears ran down her cheeks.

Author's Note

If this doesn't make sense, it's because it's part of The Mailbox, a group collab I'm taking part in, and there's some background info you're missing. Give it a read, and all will become clear. Or not, things a pretty unclear for everypony right now.