# A Delicate Balance

## by JapaneseTeeth

### The Undertaking, Part 2

Alright, Twilight! You've been prepping all day for this. You know the material inside and out. You know the conversation and have all the possible routes mapped out. Sure, you've never tried to elicit romantic attention from anypony in your life, but you've studied up. Applejack is going to be head over flank for you in no time at all! You know what you have to do to make this plan work.

Now you just have to do it.

So, if I now should utter this,

Others— because no more

Such stuff to work upon, there is—

Would love but as before.

—The Undertaking,

John Donne

Applejack trotted down main street. Rainbow Dash had said that Twilight would be back to normal tomorrow, and now it was tomorrow. If Twilight hadn't recovered from whatever it was that had been bothering her, she definitely needed to get some legitimate help before she tried to disaster-proof the town again or take some other extreme measure that would likely result in more harm than good. She was still a bit hazy on exactly what kind of help she could provide, but she had to do something. Get Twilight out of that musty old library, first and foremost. Drag her out by the tail if she had to. Keeping herself cooped up in there twenty-seven hours a day couldn't have be good for anypony. Applejack remembered hearing about some sort of mold that could do weird things to a pony's mind. Maybe some of the older books in the library had that stuff growing on it, and the spores had gone to Twilight's head.

She halted in the middle of the street as she thought of what she would do in the event that her mold hypothesis had some truth to it. Common farm molds she knew; one or two showed up in the orchard and had to be fought off every year or so. But psycho-pony book mold, not so much. Maybe she could ask Zecora about it. That zebra knew everything that could be known about obscure plants; there was a good chance that mold fell under her area of expertise.

A sudden voice came from above. “Hey, Applejack, you okay?”

“Huh?” Applejack looked up to see Rainbow Dash hovering above her.

“You were just kinda zoned out there. Staring into space like this.” The pegasus let her jaw go slack and focused her gaze on nothing in particular. “Somepony is gonna run into you if you just stand there like that.”

“Oh, right, yeah. I was just... thinkin'.”

“Well, you should probably do that someplace where you aren't blocking up the street.” Rainbow Dash gestured at the line of carts that had already formed behind the farm pony. “Like at the library or something. Twilight wanted to talk to you.”

“Ah, right.” Applejack waved apologetically as she trotted out of the way. “Twilight wanted to talk to me about something?”

“Yup, just like I said yesterday!” Rainbow Dash crossed her forelegs and gave an “I told you so” nod. “I just ran into her over at the library and she said she needed your help with something.”

Applejack smiled. “Well, I guess I better get over there then.” She took off down the road, just under a gallop.

“Oh, and if you see Rarity, tell her she was totally right about Legacy of Nightmare Moon!” Rainbow Dash called after her. “And that that dragon guy was a stupid villain!”

Applejack ignored the call, mostly because it was irrelevant, and partially because she thought that the character in question was actually sort of cool, and she wasn't about to be drawn into another debate on the subject, especially not with Rainbow Dash. Besides, at the moment checking up on Twilight took priority over convincing Rainbow Dash that the idea of a dragon absorbing Nightmare Moon's powers was cool enough to make up for the fact that the book was a bit more mature than it's predecessors.

In a matter of moments she found herself at the library. The door stood wide open. It practically invited her in. Well, she was never one to turn down an invitation. She poked her head in the open door. Twilight sat at one of the library tables, slowly flipping the pages of a book with her magic. She didn't seem to be reading them; her eyes simply pointed at the crease between the pages. Unless all the text was written around the binding, her mind seemed to be elsewhere. Applejack tapped on the doorframe with her hoof. Twilight nearly jumped out of her chair.

“Wha!? Who's--Applejack!” Twilight beamed. Her face reminded Applejack of her family's faces when she had disembarked from the train after her failed venture in Dodge. “I'm so glad you could make it!”

“Yeah, I ran into Rainbow Dash and she told me that you needed my help for somethin', so I thought I'd drop by.” She bit her lip for a moment. She wanted to stop her explanation there, but she couldn't quite bring herself to keep her concerns to herself. “Not to mention that you've been acting kinda weird the past few days, and I wanted to make sure you were doin' okay. I came by yesterday, but you had the place all closed up. Although I guess you're doin' okay now. What is it you needed help with, anyway?”

“Oh, right.” Twilight rapped her hoof on a particularly massive tome on the table, big enough that if it were put on the floor it could have served as a table itself. It surprised Applejack a bit that the table hadn't collapsed under the book's weight, which had to be considerable. “I need to get this onto that shelf.” She pointed at an almost-entirely-empty shelf, the third up from the floor, just above head level. “Can you get it up there?”

“Uh, okay...” Applejack tilted her head to the side. “Can't you just use your telekiwhatsis? That's probably easier than having me mess with it.”

“I can't!” Twilight blurted, as if she had been waiting for an opportunity to say so. “I, uh, I sprained my...horn. Yeah.” She touched the tip of her horn with a hoof and made an exaggerated wince.

Applejack narrowed her eyes. “But you were just turnin' the pages in that book when I came in. And I don't even think you can sprain a horn like that. I mean, I don't know a whole bunch about unicorn magic stuff, but I'm pretty sure your horn doesn't have any muscles in it.”

“Well, it's not technically correct, but there's still no way I could move something that heavy all on my own. But you...” She turned her face away from Applejack and looked at the orange pony out of the corner of her eye. “You're so much stronger than I am. I could never pick up that book!” She waved a hoof in front of Applejack's face. “See? It's so puny and weak. But your legs are so powerful from all of that work. All the applebucking, hauling those heavy carts of stuff around, herding your animals; I'm sure it would be so easy for you to move this for poor, wimpy, little me!”

“Alright, fine, I'll move this big old book for you.” Applejack considered rolling her eyes, but thought better of it. After the way Twilight had acted all week, this was no time to second guess her. For the moment, Applejack could humor her. “It goes on this shelf over here, right?”

Twilight nodded and Applejack turned her attention to the massive book. A Compendious Dictionary of the Equestrian Language. She put a forehoof against the corner of the book and pushed. It didn't move in the slightest. She pushed harder. The table wobbled. Her initial guestimation was that the thing weighed about as much as one-and-a-half cider barrels. Or in laypony's terms, really really heavy. And unlike a cider barrel, it obviously wouldn't roll. She'd have to use brute force.

She gave the tome a hefty shove, finally getting one of the corners to slide off edge of the table. It hit the floor hard enough to leave a small dent. Twilight winced. Applejack just groaned and shoved her head under it, straining her neck in an effort to lift the book onto her back. After a few moments of struggling, the extensive volume balanced precariously across her shoulders. All four legs wobbled as she attempted to shuffle in the direction of the bookshelf. The book swayed dangerously.

“Uh, Twilight?” she weezed.

“Yes, Applejack?” Twilight looked up from her book.

“I know you hurt your horn or whatever–” Applejack had to struggle to get the words out; if she had to guess she'd say that the weight of the lexicon on her back was squishing her lungs a bit. “-- but would you mind helpin' me balance this thing? Cause other wise it's gonna fall off and bust a hole in your floor.”

“Of course, of course!” Twilight daintily put a hoof on the corner of the book. “That better?”

“Not really,” Applejack grunted. Twilight's touch was so light that it did precisely nothing. “Whatever, just make sure it doesn't fall off, okay?”

“Sure thing!” Twilight nodded.

Applejack began shuffling towards the bookshelf. Each step felt like it shortened her legs a little bit, and if she hadn't known anything about physiology, she'd have suspected that the back of her skull was being flattened. She groaned as she made her agonizingly slow progress across the room. “Almost...there...” Her legs trembled as she came to a stop at her destination. She lowered her head a bit, wiggling her body in an attempt to slide the edge of the enormous book onto the shelf. With a loud groan, she heaved the book up. It teetered on the edge for a moment before slamming into place.

“I hope you like havin' that book there, because it ain't goin' anywhere any time soon.” Applejack's back crackled like a string of firecrackers as she straightened her neck. Good thing she didn't have to do any applebucking today. Everything ached. Even her tail felt strained, and she hadn't even used it for anything. “There anything else you need help with, Twi— Twi?”

She glanced around the library. Twilight seemed to have vanished. Applejack stretched her neck once more before giving the library a second scan, this one more thorough. “Twilight? Where'd you— oh.” The unicorn's tail protruded out from under the table. Applejack shook her head and crouched down to see Twilight cowering against the table leg. “What are you doin' under there?”

“There's a bee!” Twilight waved a hoof at a far corner of the library. Applejack looked; if she squinted she could just barely make out the tiny insect buzzing around one of the cases.”

“Uh, yeah. That's a bee, all right. What about it?”

“Can you get rid of it?” Twilight spoke with unnatural urgency. “I don't want it to sting me!”

“Twilight, it's just one bee.”

“Yes, and that means it has a stinger!”

“Fine, I'll get rid of it.” Applejack couldn't resist rolling her eyes this time. She never would have thought that Twilight would get so worked up over one bug. Maybe that incident with the beehive during Twilight's first Winter Wrap Up had given her a fear of bees or something. She trotted over to the window and opened it. “Get out! Shoo!” She waved a hoof at the bee, which was already heading straight for the flowers outside the library. “There you go. Bee's gone.” Applejack shut the window and turned around. “So, how are-”

“Thank you so much!” Twilight's eyes were the size of dinner plates, and they were staring directly at Applejack. Applejack imagined that Twilight must have had a similar expression when she met Princess Celestia for the first time. “You're so much braver than I am! You weren't afraid of that bee at all!”

“Well, it's just a bee. It's not like a sting is gonna kill me or anythin'. When I'm out applebucking, sometimes there's a bees' nest in the tree. I'm used to getting' stung by now.”

“That's so cool!” Twilight squeaked.

“It's not, really.” Applejack tilted her head to the side. “Are you okay, sugarcube? You just seem a bit...weird today. I mean, you usually wouldn't be that scared of a bee...”

“I know, I know, I've just been under a lot of stress during the last few days.” She flopped dramatically against the table, shaking her hoof at the air. “It's so hard! I don't even know if I'll be able to keep up with everything!”

“Keep up with what?”

“Stuff! Lots of it! Ugh!”

“Don't worry, I'm sure you'll figure out how to deal with it.” Applejack patted Twilight's head. It felt unnaturally warm. Maybe she was coming down with something. “Are you sure that you're okay?”

“I'm fine!”

“You sure? There haven't been any little nasty moldy patches on any of your books or anything?”

“Of course not! Every book in this library is absolutely pristine.”

“If you say so.” Applejack shrugged. Out of all of her friends, the one most likely to clean obsessively... was probably Rarity, but Twilight was definitely a close second. “I don't suppose you need help with anything else?”

“Actually, can you help me make lunch? I've always wanted to learn how to cook, and Pinkie tells me that you're a great cook! Like one of the best in town!”

“I-- I suppose that I'm not bad at preparin' food.” Applejack scratched her head, confused by the sudden change of topic. Twilight had never shown any interest in cooking before, but there was no reason not to indulge her. Maybe it would give her something other than her studying to think about. She needed a hobby that didn't involve books. “I guess I could give you a crash course. What is it that you wanted to learn to cook?”

“A sandwich!”

Applejack stared for a long moment before answering. “A sandwich.”

“Yes.”

Applejack briefly considered the idea that Twilight was just messing with her. Even Twilight had to know how to make a sandwich. How could she not know how to make a sandwich? “You do realize that doesn't actually require any real cookin' right?”

“Well, I don't know know anything about cooking, so I thought I'd start with the basics.”

“Twilight, makin' a sandwich isn't the basics, that's like... the basics of the basics. It ain't even cookin'.”

“I know, but I just want to make sure that I do it right!” She pressed her forehooves together in a gesture of supplication. “Can you show me the right way to make one? Pleeeeaaase?”

“Okay okay, I'll show you how to make a sandwich.” Applejack shook her head and headed to the kitchen. “You already got all the ingredients, right?”

“Of course!” Twilight darted past Applejack into the kitchen and gestured dramatically at the counter. A variety of ingredients were laid out neatly along its length; any ingredient anypony could possibly want for a sandwich was accounted for. “Shall we begin?”

“Uh, sure.” Applejack shoved the weirdness of Twilight having an entire deli bar in her kitchen to the back of her mind. “First, you take your two slices of bread.”

“Bread, got it.” Twilight placed two slices of rye on the counter in front of her, taking pains to ensure that they were lined up properly. “Now what?”

“Then you take your condiments; you know, mustard or mayonnaise or whatever, and put it on the bread.”

“Step two. Condiments.” Twilight scratched the words onto a notepad that she had produced from somewhere and proceeded to carefully apply a generous helping of mayo to her bread.

“Then you put your vegetables on it. Lettuce, tomato, fennel, maybe some flowers. You know.”

Twilight nodded and dumped a pile of daisies onto the sandwich.

“Then the cheese.”

Twilight added a slice of provolone.

“And then you finish it up with the other slice of bread. If you're in a fancy mood, you can stick a toothpick in there with an olive on it.”

“Perfect!” Twilight eyed the toothpick closely to make sure it was perfectly perpendicular to the bread. “Thank you so much! I never could have done it without you!”

“Really?” Applejack could feel her patience being chipped away. “You couldn't make a sandwich without my help? I know you're smarter than that! I can understand that you might need my help with that book or whatever, and I can kinda see why you might not want to mess with bees, but somepony as smart as you should be able to figure out how to make a sandwich on her own!”

Twilight took a step back. “But—but I just wanted to make sure I got it right.”

“You don't always need somepony tellin' you how to do everythin', Twilight! Yeah, I get that sometimes you need help to get somethin' figured out, but sometimes you can just go and do it yourself. Sure, you'll probably mess somethin' up sometimes, but that's okay. You just gotta make sure to get it right when you try again.”

“I—I'm sorry...” Twilight babbled. “I just didn't want to mess things up.”

“Aw, you don't have to apologize.” Applejack ruffled Twilight's mane. “You just gotta try stuff for yourself sometimes before askin' for help.”

“You're right,” Twilight said with a sigh. “I should be able to make a sandwich. I guess I should let you get out of here. I'm sure you've got better stuff to do than help me with stuff I should be able to do myself.”

“Actually, I don't really have much goin' on today. Big Macintosh is doin' the harvestin', and there's no point in startin' up quality control until he gets a big pile of apples harvested, so I don't have to be back on the farm till lunchtime.”

“Oh, I see. Well, I don't really have anything I need help with, so there's no reason for you to hang around here.”

Applejack shook her head. “Nah, you've been holed up in here for so long I thought I'd just hang out for a bit. You haven't come by the farm since you tried that cider. It didn't make you sick or anything, did it?”

“No no, nothing like that! I'd just hate to keep you from doing whatever else it is you could be doing! Besides you're totally right! I should be doing stuff myself rather than bugging you about it!”

“Come on, Twilight. Just because I'm hangin' around doesn't mean that I'm gonna be helpin' you with everything.”

“Well, Rarity says that the best way to avoid temptation is to remove it entirely!”

“Soooo you're going to boot me out because you're afraid you're going to ask me for stuff?”

“I just don't want to be using you as a crutch. Besides, I hear that Rainbow Dash has a new trick she wanted to try out. Something about a giant slingshot.”

“Twilight, I”—She thought better of her protest. When it came to Twilight, you couldn't force the issue—“I should probably get going. You don't mind if I drop by tomorrow, do you?”

“Of course not.”

“Well, I'll see you later then.” Applejack tipped her hat at Twilight and headed out the door. No sooner had it closed behind her than she found Rainbow Dash sidling up to her. “So how did things go with Twilight?” the pegasus asked. “She back to normal?”

“Nah, just a different kind of weird.” She took a few steps away from the door just in case Twilight had left a window open. “At first she seemed kinda normal, but then things got all strange. She said she needed my help to make a sandwich the right way.”

“A sandwich?”

“Yeah, she wanted step-by-step instructions on how to make a sandwich. A sandwich! Even my sister can figure out how to make a sandwich by herself.”

“That... definitely isn't like her.” Rainbow Dash tapped her chin with her hoof. “What do you think's going on?”

“I have no clue?” Applejack sighed. “It's like every time I think I got a grip on what's goin' on, she goes and does something bizarre. I mean, at first I thought she had just gone and bit off more than she could chew, but now I got no idea what's goin' on in her head. She sounded like she was done hidin' in there, but now she wants her space again.”

“So what're you gonna do?”

“I dunno. For now I'm just gonna leave her alone. I don't want to bug her too much. Maybe go get some food. Helping her make that sandwich made me hungry.”

“Alright, see you later!” Rainbow Dash hovered for a long moment, waving at Applejack as she trotted back towards Sweet Apple Acres.

“A sandwich!? That was your super awesome plan? Ask Applejack to help you make a sandwich!?” Rainbow Dash couldn't help but facehoof at Twilight's account of the morning's escapades. Sure, it wasn't like Dash had any experience in these matters (outside of that one time in flight school; she still couldn't look Thunder Lane in the eye), but even she knew that feigning the inability to make the simplest foodstuff available couldn't be the best course of action. “Why that of all things?”

“The book said that most mares find it attractive when you're willing to show vulnerability and act extremely appreciative if they give you any assistance because it keeps them from feeling intimidated.”

“Isn't pretending to not be able to make a sandwich a bit much, though? That's not” — She made hoof quotes in the air. —“'showing vulnerability.' That's just being lame.”

“I know it may have been a bit extreme, but I don't want drag this out any longer than I have to. When you talked to Applejack, did she seem any more positively disposed towards me?”

“Not really, if anything she thinks you're really starting to lose it.”

Twilight turned back the line graph she had been working on. She sighed and added a downward trend to the end of it. “I guess that advice was a load of horsefeathers. I'll have to move on to plan B.”

“You have a plan B?”

“I've actually put together plans going all the way through N. Although I doubt I'll have to go past plan G.”

“You have a plan—you know what? I’m not even going to think about that. What's plan B?”

“First, I switch resources.” Twilight tossed the book onto a pile in the corner and selected another one. “Since being vulnerable didn't work, I'll have to try another method. This book says that mares are often attracted to confidence and stability. Next time I see her, I'll have to emphasize that!”

“Yeah, you're a shining example of stability all right.” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes.

“Thanks!”

Rainbow Dash groaned. “No, I mean—Okay, listen, you spent all day trying to look like you needed her help, right? Isn't that gonna make it a bit of a problem if you want her to think that you're confident after all that stuff?”

“You're right, that might be a problem.” Twilight scrunched up her face in concentration. “Not to mention that when I tried to be vulnerable, I totally messed it up. I have to make sure that when I try to be confident, I have to look up how to do it properly.”

“Well, I can totally teach you a thing or two about that!” Rainbow Dash did a flip. “If you're actually awesome, you don't even have to worry about acting confident!”

“How long would that take?”

“Give me...” Rainbow Dash tapped her chin as she tried to mentally calculate the time she’d need. She promptly gave up and guesstimated. “Three days! Three days, and I guarantee you’ll be at least thirty percent more awesome!”

“Sorry, but I don’t have time for that.” She gestured at her calendar. “I’m on a strict timetable. If I don't have to actually become awesome, I'll have to find a way to expedite the process.” She tapped her chin with her hoof for a moment before thrusting a foreleg into the air. “I've got it! I'll see you later, Rainbow Dash! I have somepony to talk to!” Without waiting for a response she galloped out the door.

Rainbow Dash shook her head. “I don't even want to know, do I?”

“I just don't get it, Angel. I mean, I know that Applejack is a great pony, but so are a lot of other ponies in town. Do you think she ever considered them? I mean, when I asked her if it was me, she knew right away that it wasn't me; like she didn't even have to think about it. Do you think it's like that for everypony who isn't Applejack? That Twilight just sort of knew she didn't like them that way? What if she considered them all? Why wouldn't she consider me at all?”

Angel yawned in response. Fluttershy ignored it and continued. It didn't really matter that he didn't care enough to pay any attention; she needed to talk to someone, and she preferred talking to someone who wouldn't talk back.

“I mean, not that I would want her to have a crush on me or anything. That would be too strange. But why does she have to have a crush on anypony at all? Was there something wrong with the way that things were before she—” Her monologue was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. She peeked out the window and squeaked in shock as she saw the top of Twilight's head.

“Fluttershy? Are you in there? I have a question for you.”

“Um, no! I mean— yes! I'll be right there!” She dashed to the door, tripping over her own legs as she went. She stopped in front of the door and stopped to untangle her limbs. “Just a moment!” For a long moment, the door-handle refused to cooperate with her hooves as she attempted to turn it. With a pop, the door sprang open.

“Good afternoon!” Twilight looked and sounded deceptively normal. Under normal circumstances, Fluttershy wouldn't have even suspected that it was all a carefully constructed facade meant to hide the fact that Twilight sat on the verge of insanity due to an unrequited crush. Either that or Twilight had legitimately pulled a surprising quality of composure out of thin air since yesterday.

“Um, how are you doing, Twilight?” Fluttershy asked.

“Okay, I guess. I've been better. Phase one of my plan didn't quite go as expected.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.”

“Don't worry about it.” Twilight waved a hoof dismissively. “I accounted for the possibility. In fact, that's why I'm here.”

“So this is about your”—She lowered her voice, even though there was nopony around to overhear it—“your crush?” She hoped that her disappointment wasn't too evident, Twilight's romance issues were the last thing she wanted to talk about.

“Yes and no. I don't want to bother you by asking for more advice about it. It's just that my plan B involves acting confident and assertive around Applejack. I know you went to that assertiveness seminar a while back, and I was wondering if you still had any of those materials.”

“Oh, you mean the Iron Will thing?”

“Yeah, that!” Twilight nodded enthusiastically.

“I—I think it's...” She bit her lip. She never had gotten around to discarding it; mainly because she didn't want to think about it too hard. Her assertiveness phase was a period of her life that she was none too proud of. Then again, surely Twilight was intelligent enough to know how far to take Iron Will's advice. It couldn't possibly affect Twilight in the same way that it had affected herself. “I think I still have it somewhere; let me go look.”

She scrambled upstairs and fumbled around in her cabinet for the book. Why did Twilight have to come by because of this? Why couldn't she have just come back to pick up Owlowiscious' food pellets? Well, other than the fact that it wasn't a Tuesday, and Twilight only picked up Owlowiscious' food on Tuesdays, but she could have at least pretended to make it a social visit. It felt like Twilight couldn't think about anything but Applejack.

Fluttershy shook the thought from her head as she yanked the book out from the pile of junk it was buried under. It had only been what, two days? Of course Twilight's mind would be occupied; this was a big deal for her. Once this whole crush thing blew over, everything would go back to normal. Twilight might be focused on it now, but she couldn't keep obsessing forever. Could she? Fluttershy sighed and headed back down the stairs. She always hated it when “wait and see” was the only course of action.

“Here you go.” She held the book out and Twilight levitated it into her saddlebag.

“Thank you so much for the help! I don't know what I'd do without you!” She spun around and began to head out the door. “I'll be sure to let you know how it goes.”

“Um, Twilight?” Fluttershy reached out after her friend.

“Yes?” The unicorn looked back over her shoulder.

“I—uh, while you're here, I just wanted to let you know that I'm teaching some of my birds some new music for the Hearts and Hooves Day festival that's coming up. We're going to be rehearsing tomorrow and I thought you might want to come by and listen to it. If you have time, I mean.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, Fluttershy. I'd love to drop by, but I don't think I'll be able to make it. I have to put plan B into motion and—” Twilight switched into thinking mode for a moment. “Actually, I may be able to see it.”

“Really?” Fluttershy tried not to sound too excited.

“Yes, unless something else comes up, I'll definitely be there!” Twilight emphasized the last word with a stomp.

“Great! So I'll see you tomorrow then?”

“Of course! Thanks again for the book. Come to think of it, I should really get to studying it. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes, of course.” Fluttershy nodded enthusiastically. “I'm already looking forward to it!”

Fluttershy's hoof drifted back and forth in time with the music as she listened to the chorus of birds chirping harmoniously in the afternoon sun. So beautiful. If only it could last forever. She knew it wouldn't. It never did. It would only be a matter of time until—she cringed as her bluebird's pitch went loudly and aggressively flat.

“Shh!” She held up a hoof and song vanished. “You really need to watch that note, okay Mr. Bluebird? You're just singing the harmony line, so you don't have to be so loud. Alright, let's do it again from the beginning of the second movement. One, two, three, four...” The song resumed, this time entirely in tune.

“Fluttershy, that music sounds wonderful!”

“Really?” Fluttershy's spirits rose as she recognized the voice as Twilight’s. Then they sagged a bit as she realized that Twilight wasn't the only pony coming down the path. Applejack followed along behind her.

“Of course!” Twilight smiled. “You know I always enjoy your birds' songs.”

“Oh, thank you.” Fluttershy nodded politely, as she always did when receiving a compliment. “I see you brought Applejack with you.”

“Yes, I thought she might enjoy the music as well!” Twilight patted Applejack's head, despite the latter's weak effort to move out of the way. “Don't you like it, Applejack?”

“Yeah, it's real nice.” Applejack smiled and readjusted her hat. Unlike Twilight's, her smile was quite obviously there only because the occasion called for it. As she spoke she began to edge back in the direction from which she had come. “I'd love to stay and listen to a few more songs, but it's my turn to harvest the east field and I really need to get back to the—”

“No, stay for a couple more!” Twilight disappeared in a purple burst and reappeared on the other side of Applejack. “You can't go already!”

“If you have other things to do, you don't have to stay,” Fluttershy mumbled. Against her typical selflessness, she sort of hoped that Applejack really did have other things to attend to. Not that she had anything against Applejack, of course. She had been looking forward to having a nice talk with Twilight. “I mean, this is only a rehearsal after all. If you come to the Hearts and Hooves Day concert you'll be able to hear the whole thing anyway.”

“Yeah, I think I'll do that. Not that I don't want to hear your rehearsal or anything, but I'm already starting to get a bit behind in all the stuff I had to do today and I think I need to—”

“No!” Twilight interrupted. “You can stay! I'm sure Big Macintosh can handle—”

“Twilight, please!” Applejack said, stomping her hoof. Fluttershy reflexively took a step back, shocked by the the unexpected jump in volume. “I don't know what it is that's gotten into you today, but it's drivin' me nuts!” She spun around and glared at Twilight. “First you drag me out of bed on the one day I get to sleep in a bit, then you go draggin' me around town everywhere! It's like every time I see you you're just gettin' weirder and weirder! I have no clue what it is you're tryin' to pull, but it's really starting to get on my nerves. I get that you want to do stuff today, but it just ain't gonna work. I hate to say it, I really do, but I wish you'd knock it off because today I got other stuff to do that's more important than hangin' out with you!”

Twilight stood still as statue for a long moment as the words sunk in. Then she wilted like a flower in a drought.

“I—I just remembered, I have to... I have to go.” Without so much as a backward glance she turned and galloped back down the path towards the library.

“Twilight, wait!” Applejack called after her. “I didn't—” It was too late. The unicorn was already out of earshot. “Oh horsefeathers, I didn't mean it like that.” She groaned and turned to Fluttershy. “I'm sorry you had to watch that. It's just that Twilight's been acting kinda weird all week, and yesterday and today she's just gone right off the deep end. She's been draggin' me around with her all morning, and I guess it just hit the breaking point.”

“Oh, so she's been like that all day?” Fluttershy didn't care much about the backstory; she was too shaken by Applejack's sudden outburst. Still, she felt like she ought to ask the question.

“You have no idea,” Applejack answered with a snort. “She came by early this morning and dragged me out to have breakfast at the cafe. Apparently she had like the entire day planned out. I think after listening to your rehearsal she wanted to take me to go to the Wonderbolt exhibition, and after that she wanted to take me to the spa, and after that she wanted to go to dinner—ugh. Then when I tried to tell her that I was busy and maybe we could do stuff some other time, she just sorta shoved me out the door.

“And it's not just today either. She's been actin' weird all week. Everythin' was goin' fine and dandy and then suddenly she just started avoidin' me, and now she suddenly wants to hang out all the time.” Applejack dug at the ground with her hoof. “I don't know what's gotten into her! I know she's gone off the deep end before, but never like this. You don't have any idea why she's actin' up, do you?”

“I—I couldn't say.” Fluttershy spoke carefully; as much as she wanted to explain everything, she couldn't bring herself to betray Twilight's trust. It was true enough that even if she knew about Twilight's feelings, she couldn't quite trace Twilight's exact train of thought. “I think she's just been under a lot of pressure lately.”

“That's what everypony says.” Applejack rubbed her head. “I ain't ever seen it get this bad, though. Sometimes it feels like I'm the only pony who thinks somethin' might be really wrong with her.” She sighed. “I'm not goin' crazy too, am I?”

“Oh, no.” Fluttershy shook her head. “I think you might be right about Twilight. She has been acting rather strange.”

“Good to know I'm not totally losin' it.” She paused, waiting for Fluttershy to say something. When she didn't, Applejack continued. “So, uh, I really do have lots of stuff to do, so I should probably get going. I'm real sorry that I messed up your rehearsal. I didn't ruin your day or anythin', did I?”

“Of course not.”

“Alright then, I'll make a point to come to your concert on Hearts and Hooves day, okay? Let me know if you find out anything about Twilight.”

Fluttershy nodded limply. “See you later.” She felt her eyes getting heavier as she watched Applejack gallop away. With a sigh she turned her attention back to her birds, which still sat attentively on the branches of a nearby tree. They still needed a bit more fine tuning, but she wasn't in the mood. “I think that will be all for today. We'll practice again tomorrow.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Everything felt tight, her eyes, her throat, every last muscle felt like they were winding themselves up. Even her brain refused to run smoothly. Was she angry? Sad? Disappointed? All the feelings squeezed themselves together into seething mass. With a labored groan, she lashed out at the tree with her all the frustration she could cram into it. The tree quivered slightly as her hoof tapped lightly tapped the bark.

Why do things have to be like this? Why couldn't everything have just stayed the same?

Rarity squinted at the curls of fabric pinned to her dressform. She hated it when this happened. Some abstract element of the design was undeniably, unquestionably off, and yet even if her life was on the line she would be hard pressed to put a hoof on any particular aspect that needed to be changed. The dilemma wasn't so much a question of what to fix, so much as whether she ought to run with the design as it stood despite the too-subtle-for-her-eyes flaws or scrap the whole thing and rework it from scratch. On one hoof, getting this design out of the way would clear up her schedule, and the problem in question hadn't quite pronounced itself enough that a pony not deeply into the fashion scene would notice. On the other hoof, she didn't really have any other pressing matters, and the idea of putting out anything less than perfect made her want to tear her mane out. Not literally of course; she would never intentionally damage her mane in that fashion.

“Hey, Rarity!”

She snapped out of her concentration at the sound of Rainbow Dash's voice.

“Yes?” She rolled the dressform to the side and addressed her visitor. Under normal circumstances her response would be a bit snippy, but at the moment she appreciated the distraction. “What can I do for you today? It isn't often I see you drop my boutique.”

“Yeah, it's kind of an odd situation.” Rainbow Dash took a careful step toward Rarity, eying the rows of dresses as if she feared one of them would leap off the wall onto her.

“And what odd situation would that be?” Rarity's good mood waned slightly at the realization that Rainbow Dash quite obviously had an ulterior motive.

“Twilight kinda sorta had another freak out.”

“Again?” Rarity put a hoof to her forehead. “And she was making so much progress. Do you have any idea what happened?”

“Nope.” Rainbow Dash shrugged. “All I know is that Pinkie says Twilight came into Sugarcube Corner and bought out their entire stock of chocolate granola bars. You remember the last thing that caused Twilight to go on a granola binge?”

“Do I ever.” Rarity shivered. “You think it has something to do with” —She lowered her voice— “her crush on Applejack?”

“You think?” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Why do you think I came over here?”

“What do you expect me to do about it?” Rarity narrowed her eyes. She briefly started to wish that she had an outstanding order to use as an excuse.

“We just figured that you're the first one who talked to Twilight about this whole thing, and since you're...uh...” Rainbow Dash searched for the proper way to word it, and promptly gave up. “She's kinda being a drama queen about the whole thing, and—”

“You think that I'm a drama queen, and as such I'm the best equipped to deal with the situation?”

Rainbow Dash nodded matter-of-factly. “Pretty much.”

Rarity glared at the pegasus for a moment. Normally, she'd inadvertently prove Rainbow Dash's assessment correct, but at the moment Twilight's imminent breakdown was a more pressing issue. “Putting aside your remarks on my more histrionic tendencies, I suppose you have a point. Would you be so kind as to watch the shop while I'm gone?”

“Watch the shop!? What if somepony comes in?”

“Just take a note and tell them to come back tomorrow if they have questions.” Rarity stopped halfway out the door. “Oh, and if I'm not back in an hour, make sure you feed Opalescence. Her food is in the cupboard under the sink. Also”— Rarity's face went dark. —“don't even think about messing with any of my dressmaking supplies. I'll know.”

“Wait, but what if—” It was too late. Rarity had already slammed the door shut behind her.

Rainbow Dash groaned and flopped down on the counter. “Horsefeathers.”

As Rarity approached the library, she could already tell that something was dreadfully wrong. First off all, rather than the usual hoofwritten sign with a brief explanation for the temporary closure, the library door bore the giant printed “CLOSED” sign that Twilight had found behind one of the bookshelves when she had first moved in. This was perhaps the third time that Twilight had ever actually used it. Second, Spike was slumped on the doorstep, completely unamused by whatever it was that Pinkie was doing. If Pinkie couldn't cheer somepony up either something was terribly wrong, or the target of Pinkie's attention was a particularly cynical donkey. And Spike was most definitely not a cynical donkey. Third, and certainly not least, were the occasional not-quite-a-scream-but-not-quite-a-sob noises coming from the upper window of the library.

Pinkie perked up as she saw the white unicorn approaching. “Rarity! I'm so glad that you made it! I was in the kitchen at Sugarcube Corner icing this cake, and then I heard Twilight out in the front of the store and I was like 'I should go say “Hi!”' so I did. And when I went out and she was buying our entire stock of triple-chocolate-fudge-chunk granola bars. As soon as she saw me, she went” —Pinkie gasped so hard that she inflated herself slightly—“and then ran out of the store. You remember what happened last time she—”

Rarity sighed and stuffed her hoof into Pinkie's mouth. Normally, she wouldn't even consider doing something so crude, but Pinkie's babbling was the last thing she wanted to hear. “Yes, I'm well aware. Rainbow Dash was so kind as to fill me in.” She removed her hoof and wiped it on a patch of grass before turning her attention to Spike.

“Is that really what happened?”

The dragon nodded. “I was baking some cookies when she came home with that giant bag. I tried to ask her what was wrong, but she just sort of groaned, grabbed some books and a plate of cookies and locked herself in her room. I dunno what she's doing in there.”

Rarity glanced up at the window. “Brooding, most likely.”

“Brewing?” Pinkie cocked her head to the side. “I didn't know that Twilight made her own—”

“Brooding! With a 'd'! Wallowing in her—whatever it is that one wallows in in this circumstance!”

“Don't you know what she's supposed to wallow in?” Pinkie asked. “I thought you were our wallowing expert. That's why I had Rainbow Dash go get you.”

“That's what I figured.” Rarity grumbled. “I suppose now that I'm here I ought to put that expertise to work.”

“What should we do?” Pinkie dashed behind Spike and gave him a shake. “Should I have Spike record everything and send it to Celestia? What do I do? Should I put a mattress under here in case Twilight tries to escape by jumping out the window? Or maybe I should dig a pit so she can't run away.”

“Neither of those will be necessary.” She stopped and thoughtfully tapped her chin. “Although if I can't get through to her, writing a letter to Celestia might not be an entirely bad idea. I don't know if she'd listen to anyone else. Hopefully it won't get to that point. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck!” Pinkie waved with gusto as if she was seeing Rarity off on a trip.

Rarity strode resolutely through to the library door. The normalcy of the room hit her like a boulder. No charts, no graphs, no haphazard stacks of advice books, nothing at all out of the ordinary aside from the plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on the table. Rarity took one before heading up the stairs. She'd need the chocolate.

“Twilight? Are you in there?” She pressed her ear against the door. The only sound she could hear was some quiet rustling, and nothing else. She rapped on the door with her hoof. “Twilight, it's me. Rarity. Can you tell me what happened?”

Twilight made a vaguely unhappy sound that didn't quite form into words. Rarity decided to try again.

“Twilight, I just want to help you. Can we talk? Please? I know it might be painful, but I can't bear to see you like this. Do you mind if I come in?”

Twilight made another indistinct noise. It sounded not unlike “uh-huh”, but Rarity wanted to be sure.

“What did you say? I couldn't hear you. Is it alright if I come in and talk?”

“Come in.” The words cracked halfway through, and they were barely loud enough to make it through the door, but they were definitely there.

Rarity pushed the door open. Twilight was curled up against the headboard of her bed, staring at her book through red-rimmed eyes, her hooves shivering as she tried to hold the tome steady. A faint purple glow illuminated the room as she floated a granola bar off the massive pile on her end table and into her mouth.

“Hello,” she mumbled around a mouthful of granola.

Rarity sighed. Might as well cut to the chase.

“So, how are you feeling?”

Twilight didn't even bother looking up from her book. “Terrible.”

“I can see that.” Rarity bent down a little to look at the title of the book. “If you've reduced yourself to reading the Perdita Drake series, something must be gravely wrong. Care to tell me why you feel so terrible?”

“Take a guess.”

“Something to do with Applejack, obviously.”

Twilight nodded sullenly.

“I don't suppose you could tell me what happened?” Rarity asked.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don't want to think about it.” She hid her face behind the book.

“Twilight, you're going to have to face this eventually. You can't just hide in here for the rest of your life.”

“Yes, I can.”

“What about food?”

“Spike can get it.”

“Okay, what about your friendship reports? You can hardly write them unless you go out an interact with the other ponies.”

“They can visit.”

Rarity frowned. Her patience reserves were draining more quickly than she had anticipated. Whatever supposed trauma Twilight had suffered, it could not possibly merit this sort of reaction. She snorted, and with a flick of her horn snatched the book from Twilight's grip.

“Hey!”

“Twilight, I did not leave my shop in Rainbow Dash's hooves just to watch you wallow in your own misery!” She gave the stack of books next to the table a hefty shove, scattering them across the floor. “First off, you are far too refined to read that sort of drivel. Second, you can't gorge yourself on these.” She waved a hoof at the pile of granola bars. “Even if they are technically health food, they'll still make you fat and utterly ruin your complexion. But most importantly, I said that I was going to stick with you until you figured this whole mess out, and you obviously haven't.” She plopped herself down on the end of the bed. “As such, I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what happened!”

“What happened? I messed everything up, that's what happened!” Twilight sank into her covers until everything but the top half of her face had disappeared. “I'm such an idiot. I spent so much time trying to figure out how to make Applejack like me more, and it never even crossed my mind that I was just annoying her the whole time!” She sank further into the blankets. “The only reason I was so meticulous was so I wouldn't mess up our friendship, and I ended up not even treating her like a friend! I—I just...I ruined everything!”

Twilight rolled over and buried her face in her pillow. The bed trembled as muffled sobs wracked Twilight's body. Rarity sighed and slid herself over until she was close enough to reach out and gently place a hoof on Twilight's back. She opened her mouth to speak and immediately thought better of it. At that moment, Twilight didn't need advice. She just needed a friend.

Rarity didn't know quite how long she sat there, gingerly stroking Twilight's mane as she bawled into her mattress. The thing that told Rarity that any time at all had passed was the sound of Twilight's sobs slowly fading into a whimper, and finally into silence. Satisfied that the bulk of the caterwauling was over, she gently prodded her friend into motion.

“Did you get it all out of your system?”

Twilight groaned as she turned herself over. Her voice cracked as she spoke. “A little.” She rubbed her forehead with both hooves. “Ugh, I feel so stupid. I went through all that trouble and just made everything worse. I should have just told her everything when I realized how I felt. I don't know what to do! Applejack probably thinks I'm an idiot. Or just a jerk. Or both, even! How am I supposed to even talk to her after this?”

“Twilight, just think about this for a moment—”

“I've been thinking about it! That's all I've been doing!”

“Okay, think about it from Applejack's perspective, then.”

“Applejack's perspective?”

“Yes. Look at it from her point of view. As far as she knows, you've only really been acting strange for what, a few days? I can't claim to know what she's feeling, of course, but if I had to guess I'd say that she's probably worried about you.”

“I guess she might be.” Twilight stared at the floor. “But she just seemed so angry...”

“Really, you think Applejack is the type of pony to hold a grudge?” Rarity put a foreleg around her. “I may not have seen exactly what happened, but if you think about it a bit, was it really so bad that Applejack is going to disregard years of friendship just because you annoyed her a bit? Why, if that was all it took to get on her bad side, she'd have run me out of town years ago.”

Twilight managed a weak chuckle. “I guess that's true. Especially after that sleepover.”

“Exactly! I'm quite sure that you didn't manage to annoy her worse today than I did then.”

“That's all well and good, but what am I supposed to do now? All of my plans went horribly wrong. What am I going to say to her next time I see her?”

“That's a good question.” Rarity stopped to think for a moment. “Well, what was it that lead to this whole predicament? You said it yourself before.”

“Well, she got mad at me because I was too busy trying to get on her good side. If I would have just told her everything, if I wouldn't have bothered with all the scheming—I still can't believe I was so stupid. I should have just treated her like a friend rather than as—I don't know, a project, an experiment, whatever.” Twilight banged her head against the headboard in frustration. “Ow...”

“You don't have to beat yourself up over it.” She gave Twilight a gentle shake. “It's not too late to treat her as a friend, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Twilight blinked a few times and glanced inquisitively at Rarity.

Rarity couldn't help but smirk. As smart as Twilight was, sometimes she could be unquestionably dense. “Use your head, Twilight. What is it that you said that you should have done at the start?”

Twilight's eyes widened as the realization struck. “I should have told her.”

“Is there any reason you can't tell her now?”

“I can't just dump this on her after bothering her so much! I'd have to—” Twilight's excuse withered as Rarity gave her a sharp “You have got to be kidding me” glare. “No. There isn't. She deserves to know. How am I supposed to do it, though? Do I try to prepare again? That's what got me in this mess to start with. Should I just go and tell her now? I mean, I don't want to hide it any more, but I don't want to just blabber on about it.” She put on her best set of puppy dog eyes. “Could you tell me how I should say it? You know so much more about it than I do!”

“Twilight, there are some things that you need to use your own words for. In the end, this is between you and Applejack, and she shouldn't hear what you have to say in any words but your own. It can't come from me, and it certainly can't come from a book. Because there's one incredibly important thing that you have over anypony else: you and you alone know how much you care about her. I hate to sound sappy, but when you tell her, you need to speak from the heart.” She tapped Twilight's chest with a hoof. “I cannot do that, and neither can anypony else. Forget the books, forget what other ponies might say. Think about Applejack, and tell her everything that she deserves to hear. Nothing more, and nothing less.”

“You're right.” Twilight's lip began to tremble. With a sudden burst of energy, she threw her forelegs around Rarity and squeezed. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I don't know what I'd do without you. I'm sorry for bothering you so much. I know it must be such a hassle...”

“Think nothing of it, dear.” Rarity smiled, and returned Twilight's hug. Even though it had in fact been something of a hassle, at the moment she wasn't at all sorry that she had put the time in. “It's what friends are for after all.”

“Hey guys!” Spike kicked the door open, his claws occupied by an enormous jug almost as big as he was. “Pinkie said that you guys couldn't have that many cookies without milk, so I—oh.” He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the two ponies embracing on the bed. His tongue fumbled for a few seconds as his brain tried to process the scene. “I, uh, sorry to interrupt. I'll be back later.”

“Wait, wait. It's nothing like that.” Rarity scrambled off the bed. “Twilight was simply in need of some moral support. And now, I suspect that she's likely in need of some cookies and milk.”

“Yeah, some cookies and milk sound really good right now.” Twilight tossed her cover aside and clambered out. “These granola bars on the other hand...” She waved a hoof at the pile. “I don't suppose you'd want some of them...”

“I suppose I could take a few off your hooves. Spike, be a dear and fetch me a bag, please.”

“Will do!” The dragon nodded enthusiastically and bounded out of the room.

“Thanks again, Rarity.” Twilight smiled. It was small, but genuine. “I really don't know what I'd do without you. It just feels like I'm doing everything wrong sometimes.”

“I'm sure you'll get the hang of it eventually. There's a first time for everything, after all. I remember the first time I ever had a crush on somepony. I never really talk about it much, but—” She clamped her mouth shut as Spike re-entered the room, bearing a large sack. He wouldn't want to hear that.

“How many of them did you want?” he asked.

“Oh, I don't know. Let's say half. Is that alright, Twilight?”

“Sure. I sure don't need that many. I don't know what I was thinking.” She chuckled at the size of the pile. Even though half the bars were now in Rarity's bag, it was far larger than it needed to be. “Especially now that I have all of Spike's cookies.” She turned to the dragon. “They're delicious, by the way.”

“Of course they are. I got the recipe from Mrs. Cake, after all.” He suddenly put a hand to his face. “I forgot the cups. Be right back.” Once again, he scurried out of the room.

“Well, I ought to head back to my shop.” Rarity said as she watched the dragon go. “If I don't get back there soon, Rainbow Dash may knock the whole thing down. And again, if you ever need somepony to talk to, I'll be there. Just remember, just tell her what's in your heart.”

“Thank you.” Twilight nodded. “Goodbye.”

Rarity started out the door and stopped halfway through. “Actually, I do have one last piece of advice. Hearts and Hooves Day is this weekend, you know. Just something to take into consideration.”

“I'll make sure I remember that. See you later.”

“Goodbye.” Rarity waved. “And good luck.” She disappeared out the bedroom door just as Spike returned with the cups.

“See you later, Rarity!” He waved enthusiastically with his free claw before turning his attention to Twilight. “Feeling better now?”

“Yes, definitely.” Twilight smiled as she took one of the cups and patted Spike on the head. “Thank you for making the cookies, I needed that. Why don't you go see if Pinkie is still outside? You made an awful lot of cookies and we'll need some help eating them all.”

“Sure thing!” Once again, he bounded out the door.

With a long sigh, Twilight flopped back on the bed. For the first time in weeks, she felt relaxed.

A few more days. In a few more days it'll be over and I won't have to hide anything anymore. It doesn't matter how Applejack responds. The important thing is that she'll know, just like she should. She deserves that much, at least. After all, crush or no crush, she's still my friend.