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The smell was the first thing that let her realize she was swimming back to consciousness; no dreams lingered in her mind, just the warm, empty blackness of having her eyes closed in a warm, huge, comfortable bed.

They were hearty, thick smells, and she inhaled deeply, registering them, taking the measure of them; the warm smell of oatmeal and apples being cooked. It made her aware of the hunger deep inside her; she twitched in her state of sleeping twilight, eager to rise and partake.

Yawning, her eyes opened, and she blinked at the light streaming in until her eyes adjusted, looking up. The morning simply felt good, and the urge to laze in the bed was unusually strong; she didn't hop out of bed to begin her day like she normally would. It took her a few moments to realize the window the sun was streaming in from was square, not the usual ovoid of the window above her own bed; and the quilted blanket around her was not her own, either. The bed, predictably, wasn't hers in turn, and she squeezed her eyes, feeling a slight pointy object poking her in the chest.

Eyes narrowing down, she looked down at her body, focusing on the quilted blanket above her. It wasn't hers; it was much heavier than the blanket she normally slept under, but it wasn't uncomfortable, owing to how the window had been left open.

Smiling, she let energy run through her, her eyes focused on it; the blanket began to glow a bright purple, a color that reciprocally flooded the top of her vision as the horn growing out of her forehead glowed in response. A light flick of her head sent the blanket hovering up into the air, and she folded it as it levitated, then set it on the bed next to her.

The blanket out of the way, she looked down to see what she suspected the object poking her was; her writing quill, and laying flat next to it was a parchment. These, too, she attached her telekinetic consciousness to, levitating them, orienting the parchment so she could read it. It was her own writing, but she must have been so close to falling asleep when she'd penned it that she forgot writing it.

Dear Princess Celestia,
Today I learned how being able to accept a friend's assistance and hospitality is as important as being willing to offer them to a friend in need; not to feel as if you're imposing, but to look upon it as a chance to spend time with those close to you.

I also learned that when someone is trying to offer you something, being too polite to accept it can be as bad as being greedy, or taking advantage of someone's kind nature; not to mention it can be frustrating if everypony involved is too nice to accept it for themselves and bring everything to a stalemate. As is often the case, compromise is the best solution, and it can bring you closer to your friends than ever before.

Signed, your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.
P.S. It's been awhile since I've sent one of these myself, hasn't it?
P.P.S. Applejack says 'hello,' though she might be talking in her sleep.

She giggled to herself as she read the post- and post-post script notes, and considered slicing the parchment to remove them, but decided against it. Carefully she rolled to her side, her legs extending over the side of the bed; she didn't want to hop out and step on something, and this was an unfamiliar place to sleep. Her pair of bags were sitting next to the bed, she extended her telekinetic grasp around them; lifting them, she rolled out of the bed, landing on her four hooves and stretching out, bending her forelegs to reach forward, then stretching her hind legs out behind her as well, before lifting herself back upright.

“Spike?” She looked around the bedroom she found herself in, looking for her constant companion, but the small dragon was nowhere to be seen, nor did he answer her calling his name. Shaking her head, she set her saddlebags back on the floor, and slipped the inkwell and the note in, rolling it up and resolving to have him send it later.

The previous day and night came back to her as she stepped out into the hallway, looking left and right, searching for the way down the stairs. It had started when Spike had complained that he had been itching in the night. When he'd got up, however, he had been covered in termites.

That had precipitated a zealous search to find them all, after calming Spike down from his rather understandable panic attack and dousing the collateral damage from his terrified attempts to clean himself off with fire. Distressingly, there were quite a lot of them, in the beginning stages of infesting the library, a building hollowed out of a still-living tree. Frantic, she had evacuated the library's contents, and started searching for spells to help her; she had found one that could restore damage done by pests to a still-living tree, but they would have to be removed first, and after her disastrous attempt at convincing the parasprite swarm to move on, she didn't intend to experiment with on-the-fly spellcasting on an infestation of pests again.

She had galloped into the Everfree Forest in search of a solution, and the strange, yet wise zebra who lived within had once again been able to provide that solution, traveling to the library that Twilight lived in, concocting a brew in her cauldron that had solidified when dumped onto the floor. As effectively as if it had been magic at work, the termites had swarmed into the gooey amber-and-green mass, which Twilight had picked up and returned to the cauldron. Zecora had dumped them in the forest on the way home, but had cautioned that not all would be gone, and had left a second brew in the middle of the tree, a steaming, foul-smelling orange potion that was heating itself (and would for a day, thanks to something she had dropped in,) and made Twilight's eyes water and nose sting.

Zecora had been certain that it would drive any termites which remained far away, and then Twilight would be able to restore the tree. Unfortunately, by then, it was very late, and she couldn't stay at home because of the poison fumes. She had packed her bags and set out, and after she'd stored the library's books and furniture in the town hall, she had realized she needed a place to sleep.

One by one, she had gone to her friends, asking if they knew of any hotels or inns she could stay in; only Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash had; the one Pinkie had volunteered had no vacancy, and the one Rainbow Dash had known was in Cloudsdale, so Twilight had vetoed it, as her hot-air balloon was in storage with the rest of her things and getting it out, unpacking it, making it ready, and then flying it to Cloudsdale would have been far too much work simply to find a place to sleep, especially with the necessity of then enchanting herself, Spike, the balloon, and anything she brought with her to stand on clouds instead of falling through them.

All of her friends had offered to let them stay with them (even Rainbow Dash, who had volunteered to carry her up to the home she had made for herself out of clouds above Ponyville,) but she had turned each down in kind, not wishing to impose, and vowing to find lodgings she could pay for. Applejack had been the last she had spoken with, owing to her farm, Sweet Apple Acres, and especially the farm-house, being so far from town. Applejack had regretfully informed Twilight that the only inns she knew of (other than the one Twilight had already tried,) were all in other towns. Dejected, Twilight had thanked her and turned to leave.

“Where do you plan to go,” her orange-coated friend had asked, and Twilight had no answer, saying she'd figure something out.

“You mean you'll look until you're exhausted and crawl under a tree to sleep,” Applejack had shot back, and Twilight could only hang her head and say “Probably,” as she started to walk down the path away from the farmhouse.

“Well, shoot girl, didn't nopony else offer you to stay with them,” Applejack had asked, and Twilight looked up to find the earth pony walking beside her. “No, everypony did,” she said, looking down, embarrassed, “but I don't want to impose.”

Applejack had walked up beside her, looking her in the eyes as if she were odd. “Twilight, it ain't no imposition for you to sleep over at a friend's house when yours can't be used. You remember that time you let me an' Rarity stay at your place when we was caught in that huge storm?”

“Well... Yeah,” she had murmured to her friend, and Applejack had simply laughed. “Then why you so insistent on finding yourself a hotel when you can just stay with a friend?” “Well, I-” “Shoot, you nothing. It's getting dark, don't be a silly filly, just turn your tail 'round and come on back,” Applejack had insisted. “Granny's got dinner cookin', and she always makes enough for guests.” Applejack had swung her flank, making her tail – tied up in a ponytail – swing wide and smack Twilight playfully, in the rear. “Or am I gonna have to rope you to get you to come on in and sleep like the rest of us civilized ponyfolk, 'stead o' sleepin' under a tree like a critter.”

“You like sleeping under trees,” Twilight shot back, and Applejack laughed. “Sure I do; when it's by choice, like when I want to go campin', or sleep under the stars. You wanna go campin', then come on back, get some dinner, then I'll get my saddlebags an' such, and we can head on out an’ pitch a tent.”

Twilight sighed. “You're not going to just let me go, are you, Applejack?” She looked to the side, to see her friend had broken into a broad grin. “As my big brother would say, 'nnnnnope!'”

As she had at the time, Twilight chuckled, her hooves making a quiet clopping on the wood floors as she delicately descended the stairs, towards the source of the delicious smells. “Good... Morning?” She peered around the corner of the stairs, through the Apple family's living-room, and smiled as she heard voices from the kitchen.

“Good morning,” she repeated as she walked into the Apple family's kitchen, where all of the local members of the family were gathered around the huge table; Big Macintosh, every inch as tall as Princess Celestia's younger sister, Princess Luna, bright red of fur and orange of mane, and by far the most mighty equine Twilight knew, sat opposite her as she came in, his expressive face twisting into a welcoming smile as she walked through the door. He was wearing his huge wooden yoke, as he always did.

To his right sat Granny Smith, the third-most ancient pony Twilight knew (after Princesses Celestia and Luna,) her fur green and her mane white as snow. She was ancient and wrinkled, but smiled as warmly as her grandson. “Well, don't just stand there,” she said in her lovably honest, creaky old mare's voice, “get in here, sit down, and get some breakfast 'fore you waste away!”

Twilight laughed, walking to the table to take her seat. She was hardly thin, but she still smiled. “Thank you, Granny Smith. I will.” To her right – Big Mac's left – sat Applejack herself, her hat pushed back down her neck, hanging by its drawstring. “Sleep well,” she asked, and Twilight smiled. “Yeah, I guess I did. We should have sleepovers more often,” she said, as she looked around. “Is Spike – oh, there you are.”

Spike and Apple Bloom were sitting together, with her companion dragon under Apple Bloom’s place at the table, tickling the youngest Apple family member. Apple Bloom herself had bright yellow fur the color of Applejack's mane, with a bright red mane and tail the color of Big Macintosh's fur; to see them together, even without knowing their names, one could reasonably assume they were kin, if not the siblings they were. The smallest pony in the house was laughing, trying to push Spike back under the table with her foreleg, which he evaded and moved in to tickle her again. “H-H-Hi, Twilight,” Apple Bloom managed between fits of giggling, while Spike turned his head to look up at her and waved one hand at her. “Good morning!”

“So... Did I, uh, miss something,” she asked, nodding her head towards Apple Bloom and Spike in the midst of a silly battle. “Eeeeeyup,” the huge stallion across from her confirmed; Granny Smith and Applejack looked as if they were close to cracking up, while the more reserved Big Macintosh still looked mirthfully amused by it. “You... Gonna tell me what?” “Nnnnnope,” he answered her, then broke into a chortle. “Y-You had to have been here t' see th' start of it,” Applejack added, as Apple Bloom finally succeeded in pushing Spike away, under the table, and landed her front hooves on the kitchen floor, triumphantly. “Yes, I win!”

Granny Smith broke into a chuckle. “That you did – now hush up and feed the poor thing 'fore he wastes away,” she demanded, and Apple Bloom nodded. “Alright, Spike, hop up.” She raised her foreleg again, and Twilight's companion dragon scrambled up the young filly, hopping up to the table's surface itself. “Dig in, Twilight” he advised her with gusto, as he raised a slice of fresh-cut bread with rainbow-streaked jam spread on its surface, taking a large bite.

Her eyes went wide with delight, and she grinned. “Zap apple jam,” she exclaimed, giving a short laugh. “I didn't think there was a jar left to be had in all of Ponyville! I ran out months ago.” She immediately levitated the rainbow-filled jar and the knife in it, simultaneously pulling one of the slices of the fresh bread onto the plate that had been set out for her. As she started to smear, Applejack chuckled. “Sugarcube, you're on the Apple family farm, remember? Us runnin' out of our own famous zap apple jam would be like you runnin' out o' books, or, or...” “Or Fluttershy running out of critters,” Apple Bloom supplied cheerfully, prompting Spike to get in on the action, “or Rarity running out of... Of...” “I get the picture,” Twilight said, cutting him off before he could say something that might reveal the worst-kept secret of his crush on her friend and make him start to stammer with embarrassment. “And... Thanks,” she said, with a smile, lifting the warm bread to her head and leaning forward, taking a bite.

Despite being mashed into jam, then gathered with a knife and smeared, zap apple jam always maintained its rainbow-shaded stripes of color, each stripe a different flavor akin to a different fruit, such as cherries for the red stripe and bananas for the yellow. The flavor of apples undercut it all, while the electrical tingle that bore witness to the dramatic way zap apples came into being tingled on her tongue.

She loved it, and displayed that delight, her eyes half-closing as she savored the cornucopia of flavors on the bread, letting out a long, low, ecstatic moan of appreciation. She was overplaying it, but the zap apple jam really was that good, in her estimation, especially for the last zap apple harvest being so long ago that this taste of it was more like getting the next harvest's batch early. “I missed this,” she murmured between mouthfuls, precipitating the rest of the diners at the breakfast table to chortle at her.

“You sure you're eatin' right,” Granny Smith cackled at her. “You sound like y'ain't had anything good t'eat fer months!” Twilight tried to mutter something noncommittal through her bread, but Spike spoke up clearly, saying “Twilight hardly remembers to eat anything when she's got her nose in her books. She's gotten better since we came to Ponyville, but she'll still read through the night until she passes out if I let her.”

Embarrassed, Twilight sighed, swallowing. “Come on, I'm not all that bad...” “You may not be, but here, eat up anyway.” Applejack leaned forward, nosing a large, hearty bowl of oatmeal at her, and leaned over to poke her with her shoulder. “Try the jam in it,” she stage-whispered, “with milk an' a bit o' honey.”

“Okay, okay,” Twilight said with a laugh, preparing the oatmeal as directed, while the assembled diners around her resumed conversations that had evidently been put on hold for the duration of Spike's playful contest with Apple Bloom. The words tuned out as she let her friend and her family chat, Twilight simply finding the bubbling murmur of conversation to be a welcome respite from the many breakfasts she had shared with only Spike.

Hrm... I need to think of a way to have breakfast with my friends more often, she thought, as she levitated the bowl to her mouth, tilting up carefully, and smiling at the oatmeal. “Y'okay, Twilight,” Applejack asked, and Twilight set the bowl back down, smiling at her. “I'm fine, AJ. Just... Reflecting.” “Well, awright,” her earth pony friend replied, turning back to her own breakfast.

The night had been tricky, too; Twilight had been under the impression that there was a guest bedroom somewhere in the Apple family's enormous farmhouse, but it turned out not to have been the case. “Don't sweat it,” Applejack had said. “You'll sleep in my room.” Twilight had agreed, but was confused when she found that Applejack's room had only one bed in it. “I don't... There's only one bed, Applejack.” “You sleep on the bed, Twilight, an' I'll take the floor, silly.”

Twilight shook her head. “No, that's okay. You can have your own bed – besides, your rug looks comfy enough.” “I insist, Twilight – the guest gets the bed.” Twilight shook her head, sliding her saddlebags off. “Not gonna happen, AJ. I'm not taking your bed and making you sleep on the floor.” “Well, I sure ain't sleepin' in bed while a friend o' mine sleeps on my floor.”

They stood at an impasse, looking at one another for a few moments. “Well... You're not going to get in the bed if I lay on the floor, are you,” she asked, and Applejack shook her head. “I reckon not... An' yer not gonna get in the bed, either, are you?”

Twilight had shook her head. “I'm not taking your bed and leaving you on the floor.” “Welp, that settles it, then... I reckon we'll both havta sleep on the floor.” “I suppose so,” Twilight replied, moving her saddlebags away from the rug and slowly bending down. Applejack sat down facing her, and they lowered themselves to lay on the floor, heads beside each other. Twilight pulled the huge pillow off the bed and slid it under their heads, then turned onto her side; Applejack followed suit a moment later, and the backs of their heads came to rest comfortably against one another.

“Good night, silly filly,” Applejack murmured to her, and Twilight nodded. “Goodnight, stubborn mule,” she replied, and the both of them cracked up in a quiet chuckle. Some time later, when Twilight felt half-asleep, Applejack had murmured, “Twilight? Are you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?” “That we're both really stubborn and so worried about being nice to each other that we wind up seeming something that's not so nice, even though we both want nothing but to be the best of possible friends to each other?”

“No. Well, yes, but no. I'm thinkin', 'long as we're gonna be sleepin' on the same thing –” “We might as well sleep on the bed,” Twilight finished, with a giddy giggle. “Applejack, you're a genius.”

Laughing softly, they climbed into the bed, Twilight going first and sleeping closest to the window. She closed her eyes as Applejack slid in behind her, the earth pony murmuring, “Good night, Twilight.” She murmured back “Goodnight, Applejack,” and before long, Applejack was asleep. She felt herself going, but then realized that the situation she had had all day was something Princess Celestia would probably want to read about, and had levitated her inkwell, quill, and a parchment out of her saddlebags.

When she rolled to her back, she realized that Applejack was either nearly or completely asleep, her eyes closed, tucked in close. The shifting had rolled her enough so that one of Applejack's forelegs slid under their shared pillow, and the other stretched out, over her chest. She couldn't help but smile, whispering to herself as she wrote out her letter, dictating it to herself. Applejack murmured 'hello, your majesty,' when Twilight had whispered Celestia's name, and she smiled as she finished the note by mentioning that.

She finished eating her oatmeal at the same time she finished reflecting on the events of the previous night, with a broad smile on her face. “Never tried oatmeal like that before, huh,” Applejack quietly asked, and Twilight shifted to grin at her. “Nope! I like it.” “That's good to hear. Y'need any help moving your stuff back into your library?”

“Um... No, I think I'm okay. Don't you have work you need to get done?” “Well, sure. There's always work to do on the farm, 'cept in wintertime. Don't mean I can't make time – Applebuckin' season and cider season are behind us, an' the timber wolves ain't started to howl, so zap apple season ain't on us yet.”

Twilight chuckled softly at her friend's explanation, and nodded. “Alright – so, you looking forward to the Running of the Leaves?” “You betcha,” Applejack said, standing up and stepping back, pawing at the kitchen's floor. “I reckon I'm even faster'n I was last year!”

“But sis, you took last place last year,” Apple Bloom pointed out, and Applejack sighed. “Well, yeah... But that's only 'cause I got too caught up in wrastlin' with Rainbow Dash. This year? I'm all speed, filly.”

Their breakfast party was breaking up; Granny Smith had stood up and was walking out through the front room, while Big Mac shook his head, knowingly, with a smile on his face, as he walked out a door to the outside. Twilight chuckled. “You get so worked up over races. I just like to run,” she opined, and Applejack chuckled. “That's so, huh? C'mon! I'll even give you a handicap – Apple Bloom? You wanna ride?”

Laughing, the smaller filly stood up, and jumped, landing atop her sister's back. Twilight couldn't help but grin, turning to follow Applejack out, though she let out a gasp when she felt a weight land atop her own back; looking back, she saw Spike, straddling her and leaning forward. “You ready,” he asked, and she rolled her eyes, laughing. “Sure, I guess, if you wanna come.”

“T'ain't hardly a handicap if you got one o' your own,” Applejack said as they left the door. She let out a whistle. “You really don't have to give me a handicap,” Twilight said, watching for the expected appearance of Applejack's dog. Her exceptions were confirmed; Winona, brown on top and white on her underside, came pelting out from around the side of the house, and leapt up on Applejack's flank, settling in against Apple Bloom's rear legs, the filly standing upright, carefully balanced on her older sister's back. “There, that should be fair,” Applejack said, and Twilight could only chuckle. “Alright, alright, if you insist. So, where are we going?”

“Well,” Applejack murmured, starting to walk forward, down the heavily-packed dirt path from the house, “how about we go to th' fences an' run 'round the farm?”

Twilight chuckled. “The whole farm, huh?” “Sure. You're gonna be in th' Runnin' again yerself, right?” “Uh, yeah...” “Well then.” Applejack chuckled, and broke forward into a trot. Twilight could only smile, stretching her legs and following her far-more athletic friend's lead. She didn't expect to beat Applejack, but she was going to try, especially when she felt Spike bend forward, over her neck. “C'mon, Twilight,” he encouraged her, and she let out a laugh, picking up her pace to draw back alongside Applejack.

“Y'all okay back there,” Applejack asked, and her filly sister laughed back. “We're fine, Applejack! Give it to her, go, go!” Applejack responded by breaking into a canter, pulling away as she turned right, to run along the fence-line, and Twilight turned into the turn to give chase.

She wasn't a very athletic pony, but Twilight enjoyed the friendly competition nonetheless, and even for a pony her friends occasionally ribbed as an egghead, she still relished the opportunity to stretch her legs and run. Applejack certainly looked sufficiently handicapped, with her sister standing upright on her back, balancing carefully, and her dog laid flat out over her flanks, rising and falling without a care in the world.

“She's pulling away, Twilight, pick up the pace,” Spike urged her from behind, his small, three-fingered dragon hands holding onto her mane. “I know you can catch her!” Twilight shook her head, annoyed. “Don't hold my mane, it hurts,” she admonished him, “and if I catch her now, I'll be dead tired by home stretch. Just watch.”

The talkative baby dragon let out a sound of exasperated impatience, but he settled back, bracing his hands around her front shoulders and watching with a worried hiss of breath. She leaned into her trot, pushing, but not quite breaking into, a full canter. Up ahead, Applejack looked back when Winona let out a bark, and pushed herself faster, pulling away, to the delighted cheer of Apple Bloom.

They pulled away faster, and Twilight smiled. She didn't expect to win, but she was going to try, by doing exactly what she had done during last year's Running of the Leaves. Applejack had been distracted that time by her quarrel with Rainbow Dash and had tied with her for last; this time, she wasn't distracted, but was burdened with her sister and dog on her back. Twilight wasn't sure just how much of a burden they really would be, though; Applejack wasn't as massive or as mighty as her brother, but she was unquestionably the strongest pony of her size that Twilight knew, and probably tied with Rainbow Dash for being the most athletic, and most competitive.

That was her edge, she thought; make Applejack break into a full gallop early, then she'd be tired and slow down when she couldn't see Twilight behind her, letting Twilight catch up, but fresher. She felt the magic start to spark through her horn, but shook herself out of it before she projected an illusion of herself and Spike gaining on Applejack.

“What am I thinking,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Applejack's my friend, and this is just a friendly run.” She knew full well how much Applejack hated to feel as if she'd lost some kind of athletic competition because a Pegasus or Unicorn had cheated, using her wings or magic to do things she was incapable of. She could only conclude that Applejack's competitive spirit was infectious, and she laughed, letting the earth pony pull away.

No, I'm going to do this fair, Twilight resolved, watching Applejack pull away. The farm's terrain was quite hilly, and the trees weren't always in neat rows, but there were no trees too near the fence, giving them plenty of space to run. Twilight ran, pacing herself as quickly as she dared, but as a unicorn pony she was simply built with less muscle than the earth pony, and even with her additional burden, Applejack pulled away.

“We're losing them, Twilight,” Spike complained behind her head, and she shook it, her pink-streaked purple mane flopping back in his face. “I know that, Spike,” she complained. “I can't keep up with her for long.”

“You're doing better than you were at the last Running of the Leaves,” he opined, “I think you can go faster,” but she shook her head. “I-I can't.” Still, she tried, picking up her pace a little, as she rounded the corner of the farm. Climbing up a hill, Spike gasped, pointing above her. “There they are!”

Twilight sighed. “I can see them,” she murmured, as she caught sight of Applejack and her riders, descending a hill in the distance. “She looks like she's slowed,” Twilight murmured. “Like she's not running as hard as she can.” “Think she's gonna do the same thing you're doing?” “Probably. She's no dummy, Applejack.”

“Tell me about it.” They cantered past a field where Big Macintosh was working, evidently clearing away dead trees; most of them still had their leaves, but the one he was standing in front of didn't. Twilight watched as he turned around, took a deep breath, and bucked.

She'd seen Applejack buck trees; she planted her front hooves and gave a mighty kick with both of her back legs. She could make all the apples on a tree fall off in one titanic blow; when she had first seen it, she was amazed, but she knew Applejack considered her own skill at applebucking to be nothing compared to her big brother, and had said that he could do what she did with only one leg.

He didn't, though; Big Mac planted his forelegs and jumped his flanks into the air, slamming his rear legs into the tree, with what looked like all of his strength. It wasn't a small tree, either; not huge, but not small. Still it issued out an almighty crack, fractured cleanly through; the top portion of it slid off the stump and fell over with the unmistakable sound of timber falling. Applejack whistled at him, Apple Bloom yelling her greeting, and Twilight did the same, yelling out “Hey, Big Mac,” as she passed him. Spike leaned back and waved; Big Mac simply nodded as they ran past.

By the third turn around the squared-off Sweet Apple Acres, Twilight felt as if Applejack seemed to be slowing down, and nodded to herself. “This is it, Spike. When she takes the turn...” They passed under a low-hanging apple-tree, and she felt, more than saw, Spike jump up, grabbing onto a hanging stick as they ran past; it came off with a thwack of what was most likely the sharpened spade-end of his tail, and he flopped back down.

Oh great, is he gonna... Yep. Applejack rounded the corner after a look back; Spike gave out a yell of “Charge, Twilight! Charge!” His left hand grabbed her mane, and she saw him thrust the stick out forward.

She wanted to roll her eyes, but she couldn't bring herself to be more than mildly annoyed at her companion's enthusiasm; the last time he had gotten to ride her at full speed, he had thought they were going to rescue Rarity from a bunch of hulking, subterranean canine bipeds called Diamond Dogs, though it had turned out more that they needed rescuing from Rarity, thus spoiling his theatrical hopes of riding dramatically to her rescue.

The stakes here were much lower, but Twilight still obliged him, turning the corner and breaking out, into a full gallop; the place they had started from was in view, and she was going to give the friendly contest her all. She stretched her legs to full extension, digging in; dropping her head, and galloped, her breath coming hard and heavy, each of her hooves hitting the ground in a furious four-beat rhythm. Spike held on for dear life as Twilight accelerated, quickly hitting her fastest pace, pushing herself. Her legs and flanks and shoulders complained, but they responded as she focused all of her will not into her magic, but into her body, intent on covering the distance between herself and the gate out of the farm as quickly as possible.

She got a head-start on her charge, closing quickly with Applejack, but Apple Bloom looked back and saw them approaching at a full charge. “They're gainin', sis!” She leaned into Applejack's direction of travel, bending her legs to come closer to her sister's back. “Go for it!”

Twilight knew that Applejack had to be tired from their run with both her younger sister (who weighed much more than Spike,) and her dog riding on her back, but the competitive earth pony still responded, leaning forward and bending into a full gallop of her own.

Twilight was going faster than she was when she broke into her gallop, and continued to gain, until her horn was being brushed by Applejack's tied-up tail, but she couldn't gain any more, and then Applejack started to pull away, bounding hard and fast across their effective finish line.

They both slowed down, breathing hard, coming to a stop under the shade of a huge apple tree; Apple Bloom cheered, though Spike sounded disappointed, dropping his stick and hopping down. With him off her back, Twilight took the opportunity to flop over, onto her side, panting hard.

“Y'outta... Breath?” Applejack asked; she was still on her feet, over Twilight, but she looked nearly as winded as the unicorn pony, sinking to her knees a moment later. Twilight nodded, gulping for breath; her muscles ached all over. “You need t' whip yerself into shape if yer' gonna Run the Leaves with us,” Applejack admonished her, then flopping onto her own side, laughing.

“When do I have time,” Twilight asked with a laugh, letting out a snort as she shook her head, trying to clear her lungs as fast as possible to suck in another gulp of precious air. “Make time, silly,” Applejack said back. “I'm winded, but I could go again if'n I had to.”

Laughing softly, Twilight looked up to see that Apple Bloom had joined them on the grass, rolling around on her back, while Spike simply sat, looking glum. “Awh, why the long face, Spike,” Applejack asked, and Spike sighed. “I was hoping Twilight would win,” he murmured, and Twilight smiled. “It doesn't matter, Spike. We ran our best. Applejack's just better.”

“Don't sell yourself too short,” Applejack murmured, looking her in the eyes. “You ran hard and smart. If I'd run dumber at the start, or if I'd had Apple Bloom, Winona and Spike an' you didn't have nothin' on toppa you, you mighta won.”

Unable to stop herself from grinning, Twilight reached up, pressing her hoof into Applejack's nose, crinkling her short muzzle up a bit as she did. “That's nice of you to say, AJ,” she replied, breath coming more easily. “But you're just so much better than I am. You're an incredible athlete. I was lucky to take fifth place last year, and I'm sure I'll do worse this year.”

“You're better'n you think,” Applejack said after pushing Twilight's hoof down. “Heck, if Rarity an' Sweetie Belle could come in second in the Social last year, you can Run the Leaves. You just gotta make the time to run yerself into shape.”

“Maybe,” Twilight replied with a yawn, as the drain after the run hit her. “But I don't know if I can make the time.” “Well, you'd better, 'cause I don't wanna see you pull in any farther back than third this year!”

Grinning, Twilight nodded. “Alright, I'll try...” She rolled to her legs. “Speaking of which, when is the Sisterhooves Social this year? I wanna come watch.” “It's this Saturday,” Applejack replied, shaking her head. “You got your nose in the books so often y'never watch what's comin' up.”

“Yeah, I know, I know.” Rising to her feet, Twilight stretched her body out again. “Thanks for the run, AJ.” “It was fun,” her orange-coated friend replied, turning to walk with her back to the farmhouse. Winona, Apple Bloom and Spike joined them, the dog excitedly running ahead, Apple Bloom cheerfully walking beside her sister, leaning on her, while Spike dejectedly plodded behind them. Applejack looked back, and sighed, stopping, letting him catch up. “C'mon spike, buck up,” she said, prodding him in the back with her hoof. “Y'lost, deal with it, move on. Twilight an' you put in a good hard run. Nothin' to be down about.”

“I... But...” “But nothin',” Applejack said, lowering her head and giving the baby dragon a strong push forward. “You put forward your best, nothing to be ashamed of. Now c'mon, let's head on back an' grab another apple or two, I'm peckish after that run.”

“Yeah... Okay,” Spike replied, starting to walk farther, faster, pulling up beside Twilight and Apple Bloom. He had just held his head up high again, when he clapped his hands to his mouth.

“Spike?” Apple Bloom looked over at him, worried, when the baby dragon let out a tremendous belch, accompanied by a spout of green flame that singed into the air. The flames swirled upward, dissipating at the end of Spike’s flame range, materializing into a thickly-rolled up piece of paper and a scattering of golden cards.

“What in th'... Is that what I think it is,” Applejack asked, as Twilight levitated them all into the air. “Let me see. It's...” She telekinetically popped the seal on the rolled-up scroll, unrolled the top and read aloud. “My dearest student, I apologize for the lateness of this letter. I meant to send word out with the first wave of invitations, but Discord's return swept it from my mind, and by the time the kingdom was back in order, I had forgotten. Enclosed you will find an official invitation for yourself, your good friends, and Spike, as well as the usual flier...”

Twilight separated the sheaf rolled into the scroll, which Spike took from her telekinetic grip, reading, “Hear ye, hear ye! Her Grand Royal Highness, Princess Celestia of Equestria, is pleased to announce the Grand Galloping Gala, to be held in the capital city of Canterlot, to be held...” He skipped to the bottom with a dismissive wave of his hand, “Cordially extends an invitation to Twilight Sparkle and seven guests.”

“Wow,” Applejack murmured. “Really? I thought after last time, we'd be thrown in a dungeon if we set hoof in Canterlot anytime near the Gala.” “Oh, come on, Applejack, it wasn't that bad...” “Twilight, did we not attend th' same Grand Gallopin' Gala last year?”

Twilight tried to hold a straight face, but couldn't, cracking up. “Okay, it was pretty bad,” she agreed, with a chuckle. “Disastrous would be a better word for it!” They both cracked up, while Apple Bloom bounced up and down. “Ooooh, read it, read it, read it!” “Okay, okay, hold your hooves,” Twilight quietly murmured to the filly, finding her place in the letter she was reading from her teacher. “... as well as the usual flier, and invitation cards. I do hope this year can be as exciting and lively as last year, and with any luck, we'll get some more time to spend with each other.”

Giddily, Twilight let out a squeal of pleasure. “Oh, that would be so wonderful! The princess taking time to talk to me again! Let's see... There's a lot more here, though.” She unfurled the scroll, finding more was written below, in a darker color of ink.

“Twilight,” she read, again aloud for the benefit of those with her, “I also must put a large responsibility on your back this year. Thanks to a scheduling conflict, the royal caterers will be handling the tricentennial celebration of the settling of Manehattan at the time of the Gala, and will not be able to manage both functions. I promised them to Manehattan and I won't break my word. With that said, I need you to arrange for the Gala to be catered. I trust you and I know that your organizational skills will be up to the task. Enclosed are details about the spaces that will need to be decorated, the approximate number of guests that will need hors d'oeuvres and other snacks, and the budget. Staff won't be an issue, as the castle's own staff is remaining in residence. You are hereby authorized to write promissory notes in my name.” Twilight blinked, and let out a startled sound as the parchment glowed, the last sentence she had read aloud triggering a spell enchanted into it. The sentence itself seemed to sear in her vision in a bright yellow glow, which shot from the parchment and up; it formed a glowing aura around her horn, settling in slowly and fading.

“Twilight? Y'okay? What was that,” Applejack asked her, waving a hoof in her face, and Twilight shook her head to clear it. “Yer' eyes went big as plates there.” “I... I know how to conjure Princess Celestia's royal seal,” she murmured, blinking. “Wow. I didn't even know she could do that,” Twilight enthused.

“Do what,” Apple Bloom asked, jumping up in front of her, excited. “Impart the ability to cast one of her spells,” Twilight murmured. “At least, not like... Like that. It's like it just... Shot into me.” She turned the parchment over, focusing on the unwritten back of it; the purple aura of her horn, active because she was telekinetically holding the parchment up, had yellow bleed into it as she tested the ability. It was the strangest thing she had ever felt; not like casting a spell so much as focusing on the intent to accomplish the spell, and her magical talent took over from there, conducting a series of instructions programmed from outside.

The yellow glow her horn was generating seared a glowing rune on the paper – reminiscent of roundness but irregular like a seal made in hot wax dripped onto a parchment and then stamped, a glowing outline with Celestial's royal crest within, a stylized drawing of an alicorn mare, sitting regally.

“Pretty,” Applejack murmured. “What else is in th' note?” “Um... Let me find out.” Twilight turned it back over, and unfurled the scroll down. “Below you will find budgetary details, and several promissory notes already drafted, waiting only for you to fill in the amounts and place my seal.”

Scrolling down, Twilight glanced at the figures, with Applejack reading over her shoulder; the earth pony gasped. “Great googly-moogly, is that your budget fer th' Gala?!” Twilight gulped, looking up and down. “Uh... No, that's just the catering budget. The decoration budget is separate.”

Applejack shook her head, snorting. “That's jus' crazy. Y'could hire the whole Apple clan to cater th' Gala wi' that much and we'd still all be makin' out like bandits!”

An awkward moment passed, with Twilight blinking, then looking at Applejack, who nervously shook her head, looking down. “Now, I-I didn't mean to imply... Shoot, we all went crazy on you last year when the dratted tickets showed up, I wasn't tryin' to.. I didn't mean ta...” Twilight couldn't help but laugh, and leaned herself against Applejack's side. “It's okay. I know you didn't... All the same...”

“What? N-No, be serious. Only one pony who wasn't Rarity bought any o' my apples last year,” Applejack said. “They'd think we's a bunch of uncouth bumpkins.”

“But Applejack,” Apple Bloom half-whined, bouncing up. “We are a bunch of uncouth bumpkins, remember? Rarity said so!” “Now, I don't reckon she ever quite meant that,” Applejack reassured her sister, curling her foreleg around Apple Bloom and pulling her close to her chest, hugging the filly. “But regardless, I... I don't think it's a good idea,” Applejack said, shaking her head. “What if they don't like it?”

Twilight bit her lip, thinking about it. “Maybe you'd better see if you can find some other caterers, sugercube. I just don't... Well...” Applejack swayed, nervously, and Twilight sighed; her friend was fearless and level-headed at times of crisis, but skittish at the thought of returning to the Gala. “I don't know, AJ... The royal caterers were the only ones in Canterlot, and I've only ever lived there, or here in Ponyville... And the only ponies I know who do catering are the Cakes, but the Gala's much too large of a job for them alone. Are you sure you can't talk your family into doing it?”

“Talkin' 'em into doing it ain't what I'm worried about,” Applejack murmured, shaking her head. She looked down at Apple Bloom, who looked excited by the prospect. “I'll... Well, I reckon I'll talk it over with Big Mac an’ Granny Smith, but I ain't promisin' nothin', y'hear? I ain't convinced it's a good idea.”

“All right,” Twilight said. “I'll look around... But I think it might just be the best idea I've got.” “Alright. You'd best go give out the rest o' those tickets.” Twilight nodded, and levitated the pack of golden cards. One of them she passed to Applejack, who held her hoof up to take it, and stuffed it under her hat. The second she handed to Spike, who had been uncharacteristically quiet.

“Ooooh! Can I have one?” The young earth pony filly jumped up in front of her, bouncing with the seemingly infinite energy she and her two best friends seemed to possess. “I – ah...” Twilight blinked; there were only seven, just enough for her six best friends and Spike. Applejack stepped in to save her, though, turning her sibling around. “You don't wanna go, Apple Bloom. Trust me on that; it's a very stuck-up party, and just about nopony would wanna play with you.”

“Oh...” Apple Bloom pouted, lowering her head, and Twilight nodded. “Besides, last year it was a complete disaster. I couldn't get five minutes to talk to Princess Celestia, Applejack sold one pie all night, Rarity's Prince Charming turned out to be the most selfish, rude, snobbish boor in all of Equestria, Rainbow Dash didn't get to talk to the Wonderbolts because they were too busy talking to other ponies, nopony appreciated Pinkie Pie's attempts to make things fun, and, to top it all off, the animals in the royal gardens were so terrified of Fluttershy's attempts to make friends with them that they stampeded through the ball-room.”

Apple Bloom looked up at her in disbelief, but Applejack nodded. “It's the honest-to-Celestia truth, every last word o' it.”

Applejack's proclamation of Twilight's honesty left Apple Bloom looking stunned. “Wow. The Grand Galloping Gala – ain't it supposta be the best night ever?” “You'd think. It wound up being more like the worst night ever,” Twilight replied, with a soft giggle. “It was really bad.” “It sounds like a disaster...” Twilight nodded. “So, you still gonna go,” Applejack asked her, and she smiled. “Of course! You can't just say 'no', can you?” “Well, I reckon ya can,” Applejack opined. “But... Would you?”

Given food for thought, Twilight looked up towards the sky for a few moment, then shook her head. “No, I guess not.” “Welp, you know what this means?” “I have to talk Pinkie Pie into decorating reservedly?” “No... Well, yes, an' good luck with that. But I mean, it means we're gonna have to get new dresses.”

Twilight gasped softly, then dipped her head down. “Oh... Wow, yeah. Ours kind of got...” “Ruined? Th' boots on mine were still good, least 'till I let Apple Bloom here borrow 'em for somethin' an' she went and splashed 'em all through the mud, but I used th' rest o' it fer' rags a long time ago.”

“Wow.” Twilight laughed. “Rarity would buck you if she heard that.” “Mos' likely, so let's not tell her, okay?” “Okay. I'd better go round up everypony else and tell them we've been invited and all. Let's meet up at Rarity's in, say, two hours?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right. Gives me some time t' talk to Big Mac and Granny. Y'all take care now.” Applejack gave her a nudge with her hoof, and Twilight nodded, turning around. “Okay. You two, Applejack. See ya, Apple Bloom.” “Bye, Twilight,” Applejack said, and Apple Bloom bounced. “Bye... Hey, wait, you didn't say what day it was on.” “I... Oh, that wasn't on my scroll. Spike?”

“Huh?” The baby dragon looked up, then shook his head, looking back down at the flier announcement in his hands, scanning it. “It looks like it's on the... Twenty-third of next month.” “Huh,” Applejack said. “That's... Well, actually, that'll fit in neatly between zap apple season an' Nightmare Night. That's convenient.” Twilight nodded. “Yeah. Good-bye,” she cheerfully said, as the Apple sisters repeated their good-byes.

Twilight turned around, walking down the path, and Spike hopped up on her back. “Here, Spike, hold these, would you?” He took them without saying anything, and she looked back. “Spike? You're awfully quiet.”

“I dunno, Twilight,” the small purple dragon said, sitting astride her back and gathering up the scrolls and cards she'd handed him. “Last year was an epic disaster... Is this year gonna be just a rerun?” “Oh, Spike, you worry too much. We're going to go to the Grand Galloping Gala, you, and me, and Rarity, and Applejack, and Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie, and we're going to stick together, and we're going to have the best night ever this time. Because we'll all be with our friends! And maybe this time, Princess Celestia will be able to be with us, and who knows – maybe my brother and Cadance will show up, and maybe even Princess Luna.”

Spike chuckled, and nodded. “Yeah, that would be nice, wouldn't it? And hey, if the night turns into a disaster again, at least we can meet up at Pony Joe's for donuts and coffee, right?”

Twilight laughed, softly. “You're too young for coffee, you know that.” “Awh... Twilight,” he whined, and she grinned. “No 'awh Twilight,' we both know what it did to you last time. You can have milk, or maybe apple cider.”

“Apple cider... With donuts?” Spike grew silent, pondering the ramifications of that, a slow smile spreading across his muzzle.

When Twilight had left, Apple Bloom took a hop, and started off, running across the farm. An idea burned in her head, and she needed to meet her friends to discuss it. She hoped they were where she was heading, running hard and fast through the farm's trees. She ran up to it – the Cutie Mark Crusaders Clubhouse, which had once been Applejack's old, dilapidated clubhouse until the fillies took it over. “Hey,” she yelled at the top of her lungs, slowing only slightly as she charged up the wooden ramp, taking the right-angle turn in the ramp hard and looking in. “Anypony here? Hello?”

Neither of her best friends made themselves known, and the clubhouse didn't have anything big enough to hide them in in its base. She tried running up the side ramp to the second level inside the tree's branches, but was disappointed to find her constant companions to be missing.

“Awh...” Sad, she turned and walked back down the ramps. “Where could they be,” she wondered, sitting on the landing at the entrance. It not being a school day, they wouldn't likely be at school, as they hadn't any plans or schemes in the works. If they were scattered, then finding them would be difficult; Sweetie Belle might be at her big sister's home, she might be at her parents' home, or she might be somewhere altogether unrelated. Scootaloo, there was no guessing, except that the young pegasus filly was almost unquestionably in motion. If she were on her scooter and rolling, Apple Bloom had little to no hope of running her down, even if she had tied her wagon to the back of the scooter and was carrying Sweetie Belle.

“Maybe I can hear her,” she murmured, aloud. Scootaloo's unique use of her wings always made a distinctive, loud, low-pitched droning buzz. She tilted her head up, listening, in the hopes that she might hear Scootaloo's approach.

To her surprised delight, Apple Bloom thought she did hear Scootaloo's approach. Stretching her head up and tilting from side to side, she smiled as she honed in on the direction they were coming from; towards the farm's gate, of course.

Giggling to herself, she leaned back, clopped her hooves together, and rubbed them. “Oh, I have a plan.” Climbing back to her hooves, she jumped down, running out towards the sound. As expected, her best friends were traveling through the farm at a clip which even Applejack would be hard-pressed to match. Scootaloo was on her scooter, of course, her coat as orange as Applejack's, her mane hidden under her white-striped purple helmet, with her purple tail flapping out behind her. She was leaning over the handlebars, her small wings flapping at a dizzyingly fast pace, providing the motive power for the combined contraption of her scooter and the wheeled, metal wagon behind it, its handle-bar tied to the scooter's back.

Within that wagon, predictably, Sweetie Belle was sitting at the front, hanging on and cheering the pegasus pony on; Sweetie Belle herself was wearing her own helmet which restrained her pink-and-purple mane, her curly locks tight under it, plastered against her white coat. Though she looked every bit as potentially fancy as her older sister, she was cheering for Scootaloo to go faster, rowdy and ready.

Their approach was rapid, and Scootaloo didn't really have any way of braking the contraption other than to stop flapping and let the heavier wagon pull the scooter to a halt; trying to brake as she would without the wagon would result in the wagon running into her rear. When she saw Apple Bloom materialize through the trees, she stopped flapping, and Apple Bloom dodged to the side, then leapt for the wagon, jumping in behind Sweetie Belle. “Girls, girl, girls,” she excitedly yelped, “I have a plan! A magnificent plan, even!” “A plan? For what, Apple Bloom,” Sweetie Belle asked her, and Apple Bloom sat in the back of the wagon, planting her forehooves on her hips. “Girls? We are going to the Grand Galloping Gala!”

The wagon coasted to a stop as her best friends turned around to look at her. “The what?” Scootaloo looked confused, but Sweetie Belle was excited, pulling off her helmet! “The Grand! Galloping! GALA! Don't tell me you've never heard of the most magnificent, munificent, magnanimous, majestic, most, most, most... The Grand Galloping Gala!”

Scootaloo blinked, curiously, and Apple Bloom laughed. “It's this huge party the Princess throws every year. It's supposed to be the best party in the world!” Sweetie Belle nodded. “Last year it was about all my sister could talk about for a while; ponies meeting, ponies greeting, music, the Princess herself, and how she was gonna meet a Prince Charming!”

“Uh-huh... An' did she?” “Well, she did say she met a prince, but she didn't talk about him,” Sweetie Belle admitted. “Maybe he was already married?”

“Maybe,” Apple Bloom said. “But Twilight an' Applejack were talking about it, and when I asked for a ticket, they started to talk about how bad it was,” she said, bouncing out of the slowing wagon excitedly, hopping around it.

“Um... If it was bad, why do you wanna go,” Scootaloo asked, and Apple Bloom grinned. “That's just it. After they told me how bad it was last year, they decided they were going to have to go again – and get new dresses. Now, call me a silly filly, but you don't really go and get a new dress made and go to a party you hated, did you? I think they didn't have enough tickets, and they didn't want to hurt my feelings, so they told me a bunch of bullhooey to make me not feel bad.”

Sweetie Belle nodded. “That must be why Rarity didn't talk much about the Gala she went to last year; she didn't want me to be jealous!”

“Okay,” their pegasus companion said, nodding and stepping down off her scooter, pulling her helmet off and leaving it on the handlebars. “But... There's two – no, three problems with this.” “Oh, foo, there's always problems. What are they?” Apple Bloom asked, leaning on the wagon's side as Sweetie Belle hopped out.

“Well, problem the first is: I'm not seeing how this is gonna get us our cutie marks. The second problem is: there aren't enough invitations, right? What are we gonna do, steal some? And the problem number three is: if this is such a big party, what are we going to wear? I don't have any really fancy outfits or anything.”

Apple Bloom blinked. “I dunno about that dresses thing, but I've already got the first two down. We're going to get in by sneaking in, that's how! Twilight asked Applejack to cater the whole dang event. She will, she just don't know it yet; but, if the Apple family's a-caterin' the party, that means apples, and when that many apples are getting' moved, it means Big Mac's doin' the moving. And when Big Mac's haulin' apples, that means his big old wagon gets pulled wherever he goes.”

“I'm... Still not following you,” Sweetie Belle admitted, and Apple Bloom grinned, widely. “Him an' Applejack'll have to be away from the farmhouse for a while sooner or later, and Granny Smith don't hear none too good. We'll pull it out here with a bunch o' timber and build a false bottom into it! Then, when we're at the Gala and the party's started, we can climb out o' the cart and into the party!”

At the revelation of her plan, her friends started to grin widely. “Oh, that sounds good, Apple Bloom,” Scootaloo enthused. “Heck, that sounds good enough to do even without any chance of getting our cutie marks!”

“Oh, but girls, don't you see?” Apple Bloom sat up, and grinned. “We'll be the Cutie Mark Crusader Party Crashers!” She held her hoof up, gloriously pointing it skyward, then fell over onto her back, giggling, with Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle following suit. “If we can pull this off, there won't be a party in all of Equestria we won't be able to sneak into. We'll be famous!”

She giggled at the thought, rolling onto her side and holding her front legs over her stomach until she could laugh no more. “I don't know about the dresses, though,” she admitted. Sweetie Belle grinned. “Oh, I do. I bet I can just talk Rarity into sewing us some nice pretty princess dresses.” “How?” “Simple: We want them for Nightmare Night!”

Scootaloo chuckled. “Well, that might work. But what do we do for real on Nightmare Night? We don't want to wear the same thing, do we?” “Sort-of,” Apple Bloom said. “We'll rough 'em up and add stuff, and be pirate princesses or something. Maybe zombie princesses or whatever, who knows?”

Rolling onto her belly, Apple Bloom looked up at her friends, who positioned themselves likewise, rolling into the three points of a triangle. “This,” she declared, extending her hooves forward, “is gonna be awesome.”

Both of her friends met her hooves with theirs, and the three of them broke into a grin. “Let's get to work planning,” Scootaloo said, and Sweetie Belle nodded in agreement.

The door’s bells jangled with a rougher opening than she would really have preferred her home and business to be treated; Rarity looked up from what she was working on in mild annoyance, which quickly dissipated when she saw the pony who had entered: cerulean-blue in coat and wing, with a mane and tail showing the bright color spectrum of a rainbow, the aptly-named Rainbow Dash looked somewhat puzzled as she walked into the Carousel Boutique.

“Rarity?” Rainbow Dash’s eyes fixed on her, and she nodded; by way of contrast, her own coat was the color of freshly-fallen snow, with her perfectly-curled tail and coiffure an alluring, refined shade of violet. She blinked, her large eyes seemingly magnified by the oval-shaped glasses she had been wearing, and flicked them up, a light blue glow surrounding them letting her telekinetically lift them and tuck them above her head, behind her horn. “Yes, Rainbow?” She stepped away from where she had been working; just a minor repair to the mayor’s favorite collar.

“Um... Am I the first pony here,” Rainbow Dash asked, and Rarity shook her head. “Not quite.” She turned to look at the sound of hooves; with coat and wings pastel yellow with a mane the color of pink cotton candy, the soft hoof-falls could only belong to one pony, their friend Fluttershy. “Rarity? I - oh.” She beamed a warm-hearted smile upon seeing that the pony who had entered the shop was one of her circle of closest friends. “Good morning, Rainbow Dash,” she murmured, her voice soft and warm, as she walked up to Rarity. She was balancing a garment on her back, folded and evidently unfinished. “I finished stitching this cloak’s pleats, is it what you wanted?”

A quick glow from her horn had her ovoid glasses back on her nose, and Rarity leaned over Fluttershy’s back to examine the stitches on the forest-green cloak. Although she had been using a machine - as performing such intricate work by hoof would have taken days - there was still a lot of skill and care that had to be put into the work. Normally, Rarity wouldn’t let anypony (except perhaps Sweetie Belle, though she knew that any garment her sister’s hooves touched was infinitely more likely to be written off as a learning experience than something she could sell) touch her equipment, let alone to work on something a client had commissioned, but the work was as flawless as if she’d done it herself. Fluttershy had delivered the pleated cloak with a three-thread overlock stitch for all the edges, two with threads the same hue as Rarity’s violet mane, the third a darkened shade of hot pink. It was a subtle touch, which delivered an elegant, curled design around the neckline.

It was beautiful; gorgeous, even. Lovely, and Rarity bit her lip. “Oh, it’s... Um...” Her kind-hearted, sensitive friend’s face became immediately crestfallen, and she apologized. “I’m sorry, Rarity,” she murmured, hanging her head. Rainbow Dash approached them, her eyes narrowed in scrutiny. “What’s the big deal, Rarity? It looks great.” She didn’t look so much accusatory as defensive on Fluttershy’s behalf, while the timid pony tried to murmur “I’m sorry.” Rarity shook her head, vehemently.

“It’s... It is fine. Beautiful, actually,” she said, gushingly, leaning her head down to nuzzle her nose into Fluttershy’s cheek. “It’s absolutely flawless,” she said, with a smile, lifting Fluttershy’s head with a hoof. “The mistake was mine; I forgot to tell you the client is a stallion.”

Fluttershy’s ears twitched, and she saw the problem. “Oh, no,” she murmured. “If I’d known that, I would’ve used two black and one red.” She hung her head again, and Rainbow Dash stepped back, recognizing the mistake and without any sort of useful input to give. “I can remake it,” Fluttershy whispered. “When is the client due?” Rarity glanced up at the clock, and winced. “Today. Within the hour, in fact.”

Fluttershy’s face took upon a look of abject panic, and Rarity shook her head, reaching up to touch her hoof to her friend’s nose. “There’s no way to get it remade that quickly. We’ll... We’ll just present it to him. Some stallions are secure enough in their masculinity to wear something with a splash of a feminine color. If he isn’t pleased, I’ll take the blame and remake it to his satisfaction at a discount.”

“Rarity, you don’t have to take the blame for me,” Fluttershy said, but Rarity shook her head. “Nonsense, dear, of course I do,” she assured her friend, putting her spectacles back above her horn. “This is my shop, I am responsible for the wares I purvey. The fault was entirely mine in not explaining to you the client was a stallion.” She levitated the cloak from Fluttershy’s back, and turned around, walking it over to a mannequin and hanging it over the display stand’s back. “Now, let’s put this up,” she said, and turned around, “and maybe one of you can tell me why my friends seem to be gravitating toward my shop today? Is there something I haven’t heard?”

Fluttershy simply shook her head. “Twilight came by my cottage and asked me to be here. She said she had something to tell us, but she didn’t say what. Since all my little friends were taken care of for the morning, I thought I’d just go ahead and come early.” Rainbow Dash nodded. “Yeah, that’s more or less what happened to me. I was practicing a new trick - the double-reverse backwards loop, which should be pretty awesome when I get it right - and Twilight whistled me down. She said she had some kind of news to tell us all and wanted us to meet up... Not sure why she wanted us to meet up here, though.”

“Well, I certainly don’t mind it,” Rarity said with a smile. “Fluttershy here volunteered to help out.” “Awh, are you gonna put me to work, too?” Rainbow Dash said, putting a fake pout in her voice, and Rarity obliged her with a look of mock horror. “Good heavens, no. Although, it couldn’t hurt to have someone to help fetch things,” she teased, and Rainbow Dash feigned a shiver of horror.

“Actually,” Fluttershy murmured, “Um... C-Could you get us some breakfast?” She pawed at the floor with her hoof. “I kind of, um... Forgot to eat.” Her stomach let out an exaggerated growl, and Rainbow Dash laughed. “No problem. I’ll be back in a jiffy,” she confidently said, turning and walking back toward the door.

It opened before she reached it, though, with a loud jangle of bells and a cheerful “Who’s hungry!” The warm aroma of freshly baked goods heralded the pony who bore them; with a bubblegum pink coat and huge, untamable curly locks of hot pink for her mane and tail, the exuberant Pinkie Pie walked into the shop, her back laden with saddlebags. Fluttershy’s face brightened immediately, her head raising fully.

Rarity let out a sigh; that was it for the work, then, there was no hope of getting any more done with Pinkie Pie in attendance, and her show-room was becoming crowded. She held her head up high, her horn glowing bright as she reached out into the air, grasping very nearly all of the furniture in the room. “Let me make some room for that, Pinkie,” she said, leaving her perpetually-cheerful friend smiling.

Glowing blue, the furniture began to rearrange itself to her direction, all of the pieces in progress lifting with the tables they were on, sliding to the back wall, while she picked up a big, circular table, moving it to the middle. Pinkie walked over to it before she had even released it from her telekinetic grasp, and swung her hips, deftly depositing her saddlebags on the table.

“You’re the best, Pinkie,” Rainbow said to her, sitting at the table next to Pinkie and opening the saddlebags; she pulled out a pair of boxes, one of which was full of donuts, the other which was full of muffins. Both had the look and smell of having been freshly baked. No doubt they were the work of her employers, the Cakes; if Pinkie Pie had baked them, they would have almost certainly have been cupcakes. Fluttershy echoed the sentiment, sitting to Pinkie’s other side and pulling a muffin to herself, hungrily taking the top off in one bite. Somehow she managed to make it look less ravenous than it was, and Rarity shook her head with a fond sigh.

“You should have told me you missed breakfast, dear,” she said, sitting at the table opposite Pinkie Pie, levitating a donut absent of glaze or frosting to herself. Fluttershy beamed at her, swallowing and saying “I didn’t want to be a burden.” “None of my friends are ever a burden,” Rarity retorted, and looked up at the sound of hooves on her steps. Pinkie had neglected to close the door.

“Howdy, y’all. Somethin’ smells good,” Applejack commented as she walked into the shop, though for some reason she was wearing Twilight’s saddlebags. Rarity breathed a sigh of relief that she had evidently wiped her hooves on the doormat before entering, and smiled as the manager of Sweet Apple Acres entered, pushing her hat back down her neck with her hoof. “Well, this looks like it’s almost a party,” Applejack commented, walking around the table, sitting between Rarity and Fluttershy. “Just waitin’ on Twilight to show herself.”

Rarity nodded. “Does anypony know what happened to her yesterday? Termites took over her library! I offered to let her stay here, but she turned me down.” Her friends shook their heads, each of them having the same story in turn; Twilight had turned up, asked if they knew of any hotels or inns she could stay at, then left when they couldn’t name any that were nearby. “I do hope she didn’t wind up sleeping out in the chill air,” Rarity said, and Applejack smiled. “Naw. I had to threaten to rope ‘er an’ drag her in, but I convinced her to stay with my family.”

The ponies around her table broke into a giggle, and Rarity couldn’t help but laugh in turn at the thought of Applejack and Winona herding a stubborn Twilight Sparkle and making her go inside to sleep like a civilized pony. It was good, having all - or almost all - of her friends congregating in her home on a bright, clear morning, eating from her table. Pinkie Pie looked almost ready to burst into song, Fluttershy’s wings were twitching as she gratefully finished off her muffin and tore into a donut, Pinkie whispered a joke into Rainbow’s ear, which made the blue Pegasus break into a giggle, leaning heavily on the table, while Applejack leaned up on the table, lifting a glazed donut with her front hooves and raising it to her mouth. “Ah’m not so hungry,” she said, “but this ‘un smells good,” she opined, taking a bite of it. Rarity smiled at her, taking a bite of her own; though she hadn’t skipped breakfast, she had awoken before dawn thanks to her cat’s sudden need to stalk her own tail atop Rarity’s bed, and had been working straight since breakfast.

“So, Applejack, do you know what this is all about,” Rarity asked. “That is, assuming Twilight hasn’t decided out of the blue she wanted her friends to meet up just to see us all?” “Nope. It’s kind of big,” Applejack says. “But I think she wants to tell y’all herself.”

“Come on... Just a hint?” Rainbow Dash asked, eagerly, leaning over the table, and Applejack laughed, shaking her head. A flicker of gold emerged from her hat, falling from under it and landing on the table. A quiet gasp went up from the assembled group of friends. “Er... Applejack, darling,” Rarity asked her, levitating the golden ticket. “Is this what I think it is?” It was, unquestionably, an invitation to the Grand Galloping Gala, but she still felt compelled to ask, and give Applejack a chance to put it in her own words, or perhaps explain that it was last year’s invitation that she had for some reason saved. Rarity didn’t think that Twilight would have invited only one of her friends this year, but if she had, it wouldn’t be hard to get the truth out of the Element of Honesty.

“Er... Yeah, it is,” Applejack said, with a light blush. “There are enough for all of us, aren’t there?” Rainbow Dash asked, just a tinge of accusation edging into her voice; though she was impeccably loyal (as befitting the Element of Loyalty,) Rainbow Dash could be a bit covetous, and could easily feel hurt if it seemed like one of her friends was favoring one above the rest. “Why don’t y’all ask her,” Applejack replied with a relieved sigh, pointing with her hoof; behind Rainbow, Twilight Sparkle herself walked up into the Carousel Boutique, her ever-present companion Spike striding in her wake, carrying a large roll of paper in his arms. Rarity slid the levitated ticket back under Applejack’s hat, grinning.

“Oh, wow, everypony’s here already! That’s a relief,” Twilight said, as Spike bounced to her side and rushed past her; the exuberant baby dragon dropped his burden at the table’s side, scrambling up Rainbow’s back with a “‘Scuse me,” and hopping onto the tabletop. The group of ponies couldn’t help but laugh at him as he hungrily tore into the nearest muffin.

“Heck, Spike, y’all are actin’ like we didn’t feed ya this mornin’,” Applejack teased him; through the muffin, he muffled, “whah c’n ah sah? Ahm hungee,” taking a second bite before he’d finished the first, then gulping them both down.

Twilight sighed, sitting at the naturally open place at the table, between Rarity and Rainbow Dash, and tapped Spike’s head with her horn. “You’re going to make yourself sick, Spike,” she cautioned him, but he grinned. “I’m never sick! I can eat anything,” he confidently declared, with a laugh.

Rarity couldn’t help but tease him, saying, “Be that as it may, Spike, I haven’t known any mares who considered a big appetite to be a virtue.” The baby dragon was immediately paralyzed, in the middle of lifting the bottom half of his muffin to his muzzle, his eyes widening as he worked through what she said. It was the worst-kept secret in the world that he had a crush on her, not the least of the reasons which being that he, himself, had begun to confess it once when it seemed that they were about to plummet to certain death together, but he still attempted to maintain the pretense that it was a secret.

It was comically adorable, and she loved to tease him over it, especially in moments like this. Spike set the rest of the muffin down. “O-On second thought, maybe I’m not so hungry,” he said, and, saving as much face as he could, hopped down from the table, returning onto its surface with the bundle he had carried in. Twilight giggled softly. “Okay, everypony. I’ve got some news. Go ahead, Spike.”

Spike cleared his throat, and pulled the first roll of paper away, unrolling it. He repeated the clearing of his throat, and began with “Hear ye, hear ye,” launching into a full reading of the official announcement of the Grand Galloping Gala, and concluded with pulling a sheaf of golden tickets out of the paper, dealing them around the table like a deck of cards, skipping Applejack. The orange pony broke into a grin, and Rainbow slumped, slightly, in relief and a little glance of guilt towards Applejack.

The only long face at the table belonged, surprisingly, to Pinkie Pie, who stared at her ticket with a dour look of contemplation. Blinking, Rarity peered into her eyes. “Pinkie, darling, what’s wrong?” “I... I don’t think I want to go,” Pinkie said, her bouncy mane taking on a slight droop. That was a cue; her mane was naturally straight and limp, Rarity knew, it was her normal state of excitement and happiness which made it bouncy and curly, and as such, its status was a good indicator of her mood.

Rarity judged it to be a sudden wash of morosity which had overcome her; unusual for any of her friends, to say nothing of the Element of Laughter herself, and that made her worry. Pinkie lifted her head, blinking. “Am I the only pony who remembers the last one? Sure, the end of the night was great, but... The rest of the night was the worst night ever. Nopony there wanted to have any fun, they just stood around gabbing and gossiping, and, and they glared at me when I tried to cheer them up.” She nudged the ticket with her nose. “I mean... It was nice of the Princess to invite us, but... I’d just as soon stay here and throw us all a party, Ponyville style. You, and Applejack, and Rainbow, Fluttershy, Spike, Twilight, and me!”

A murmur of contemplation went through the table; Applejack remained quiet, though Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy both voiced assent, Fluttershy timidly speaking up, “None of the little critters there wanted to be my friend, either. But a Pinkie Pie party would be really nice,” she said, and Rainbow Dash nodded. “I mean, I want to go, if only to see the Wonderbolts put on a show, but I know I’m not gonna be able to talk to ‘em this year, either... And the rest of the gala was a drag. I’d rather attend a Pinkie Pie party, too.”

Rarity could see the tide turning, and she had to sigh. Her socially-conscious side rebelled at the thought of missing the Grand Galloping Gala, but she admitted aloud, “I guess... I’d rather attend a party with my friends, too. Last time... Urgh. I’d love to go, but Prince Blueblood would probably be there again, and if I see him, I may throw a drink in his face... I’d much rather be with you all.” She smiled, though it wavered; it was the truth she’d spoken, but it was a hard truth to speak.

The vote of confidence in her had restored some of the lost bounce to Pinkie’s mane, but it fell again when she looked over at Twilight, who had her eyes closed. For a horrifying moment, Rarity though Twilight was hurt, and she leaned over the table, inhaling to try and reconcile, when she saw that Twilight was smiling.

“What if we don’t have to choose,” she said, opening her eyes, grinning from ear to ear. It left them confused for a moment, then Rarity blinked. “You mean, have a private after-party, Pinkie style?” It was a reasonable compromise; assuming they survived the Gala itself, that was. Nopony could throw a party like Pinkie Pie, and it would certainly make another disastrous Gala much more tolerable to know that her friends were going to congregate afterward.

“No,” Twilight said, with the grin evident into her voice. “I mean, the Grand Galloping Gala, entertainment provided by Pinkie Pie!”

A wave of surprise took the table over; Pinkie herself let out a soft snort of surprise. “Why.. I... Eh?” Pinkie looked at her, Rainbow leaning back to allow them to have a direct eye-lock, and Twilight grinned at her. “The Princess promised the Royal Catering Corps to Manehattan this year, and she’s given me the job of arranging everything - the food, the decorations, the entertainment... And I don’t know anypony who could decorate the entire palace... Except you,” she said with a grin.

Pinkie stared at her for a moment, then her mane and tail returned to their normal state of springiness with an audible boing! The pony herself launched into the air, bouncing from a full sit - no easy feat - in excitement. “Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh! I’d love to do it, I’lldoitI’lldoitI’lldoityou’llsee!” Her mane grazed the ceiling as she bounced higher and higher, across the table, until Applejack reached out, biting down into her tail, halting her next bounce early and pulling her back to the ground. “Woah nelly,” Applejack cried out, grounding Pinkie. “It ain’t like throwin’ a birthday party.”

“Well, I know that,” Pinkie said, looking back at Applejack as the other earth pony released her tail. “Duh! I was there, remember?” Applejack nodded at her. “Yeah. But y’all ain’t gonna decorate th’ palace the way it was last year, are you?” “Well, no,” Pinkie said, her eyes looking up, in contemplation. “But I can make it something those stodgy old fogies will like, and make it a Pinkie Party at the same time!”

She bounced again, clear over the table, and landed behind Twilight, turning around and hugging her, tightly, from behind. Twilight laughed as Pinkie Pie heavily came to rest on her back, her friend’s forelegs wrapping around her chest. “You’ll see! I’ll arrange the decorations and the entertainment and the music, and the Princess will love it, and all those old ponies will love it, and we will have the Best! Night! EVER!” Squealing with delight, Pinkie Pie bounced away from Twilight. “Oh! I’ve got to start writing letters,” she said, with a giggle. “When is it?” “Ah, Pinkie, it’s -” “On the twenty-third,” Spike said, and Pinkie gasped. “That’s next week!” She practically flew from the door, the speed of her departure causing enough of a breeze to make the cloak Fluttershy had stitched together to rustle, and left a pink blur in her wake that faded after a second.

“... Of next month,” Spike finished, and Twilight sighed, as Applejack chuckled. “Hey, uh, Rainbow Dash? Think you could corral her an’ bring her back? We ain’t done yet.” The pegasus stood up, and saluted Applejack with her hoof. “No problem,” she confidently declared, her wings spreading as she turned toward the door.

“Oh no,” Rarity murmured, her horn glowing blue, telekinetically taking hold of everything loose and lightweight; if Pinkie Pie’s departure had been akin to flight, Rainbow Dash’s literally was flight, the Pegasus’s departure leaving a rainbow-striped trail in the air and a snapping whip of air pressure gusting through the main room of her shop. Had she not restrained the pieces on display, the displaced air would have sent everything flying.

“Whew! Those fillies sure are in a hurry,” Applejack laughed, having caught the baked goods by stretching her forelegs around the table’s edge. “Now, I wanted to... Er... Hello?” A white-coated pegasus stallion with a short-cropped silver mane and tail had walked in, though he looked slightly shell-shocked. “Should I call again,” he asked, his voice quick and jovial, despite the surprise in his eyes. “Those two fillies who just tore out of here looked like they were in a hurry! Is this a bad time?”

“Oh, no, nonsense,” Rarity said, standing from the table. “Excuse me a minute, girls, this won’t take long.” Fluttershy shied away, backing up and almost hiding behind Applejack, as Rarity levitated the cloak the pastel pony had assembled earlier in the morning.

It won’t take long, one way or another, she thought, as she walked over to her customer, unfolding the cloak. “As requested, one pleated cloak, everfree-green. It’s thin in the middle, so as not to obstruct the wings, and certainly light enough to fly in without noticing any burden. Now, it will create some drag - that’s unavoidable with any loose garment - but it has a belt you can affix around your stomach to mitigate as much of it as is possible.”

The pegasus eyed the cloak up, critically for a moment, but broadening his mouth into a grin. “Oh, it’s great! I love the stitching,” he said, peering carefully at the hem, and Rarity allowed herself to breathe a slight of relief. “My daughter’s going to love it!”

“Er... Your daughter?” “Yeah,” he replied. “My daughter... Oh, did I forget to mention this was a gift for her?” “Um... It’s nothing,” Rarity said, pleased to have dodged a potential disaster. “She’s such a tomboy,” the stallion said, reaching back to open his saddlebags and pulling out a small pouch that jingled, setting it on a nearby table. “It’s a real challenge getting her to wear anything nice, but I think she’ll love this! Can you put it in a box?” “Of course,” Rarity replied; turning, she folded the cloak in front of her as she went, pulling a white box out of a shelf under her sales counter, depositing the cloak in it and putting the lid on, then tying it up with ribbon. “Here you are,” she said, levitating it into his saddlebags, and he smiled. “Thank you muchly. This place really is great,” he said, turning and departing.

When he was gone, Fluttershy let out an audible sigh of relief, followed by Rarity doing the same. “I guess sometimes, two forgetful ponies make one, um... Remembering pony?” She walked to her door, hanging the ‘busy, please call again’ sign on the front, and shutting it.

“What was that about,” Spike asked curiously, and Rarity chuckled. “Oh, just a potential slight disaster averted by two mistakes conspiring to negate each other. It’s really nothing,” she said, returning to sit at the table. “Now, where were we before Pinkie left... Oh, right, we were discussing the Grand Galloping Gala.” She grinned for a moment, then realized what she had just said, her eyes going wide. “Oh no! The Grand Galloping Gala! I have to make us all-new dresses, and I’ve only got a month to do it!!”

She felt dizzy, and swooned; instinctively she tugged her fainting couch over to her side, collapsing into it. “I... I... I’ll just have to do it! Somehow,” she said, though she left out a dramatic whine. “I’ve got so many other ensembles already in the works... I’ll just have to work night and day,” she declared, rolling to lay on her belly, looking up at her friends, “and maybe turn down new jobs for the next month.”

The door opened, interrupting her, and Pinkie Pie returned through the door, with Rainbow Dash following her. “I, uh... Jumped the gun a bit,” Pinkie said, and the rest of the ponies in attendance giggled softly. “A bit,” Rainbow teased her, pushing her in and shutting the door. “Now, where were we?” Twilight said, sitting up and placing her hooves on the table. “Pinkie, I’ve got a budget for the decoration and entertainment, you need to stay under it,” she cautioned, but the pink pony laughed. “Oh, Twilight. Have you ever known me to go overboard?”

“Oh, only on everything y’ever do, sugarcube,” Applejack said, which brought a chuckle from everypony, including Pinkie Pie. “Okay, but have you ever known me to go overbudget?” “Well, I’ll admit I ain’t ever known that to happen,” Applejack noted, and Pinkie grinned. “See? You can count on me!”

“Speaking of budgets,” Twilight said, turning her attention to Applejack, who nodded. “Well, I talked it over with Big Mac and Granny Smith, and Granny Smith just about ordered us to do it. Told us we needed to do it, if only to repay the Princess for givin’ our family the land that’s now Sweet Apple Acres.” She sighed. “I’m still not sure it’s such a good idea, after last year, but we’ll do our best.”

Twilight nodded. “Right. So, let’s see... That’s...” She pointed. “Applejack needs to rally her whole family into action to cater the event. Pinkie Pie needs to arrange the decoration and entertainment, and Rarity -” “I need,” Rarity declared, “To get to work on our new dresses, chop-chop!” She stood up off her fainting couch. “This may take all of my expertise to get them done and meet my other obligations. I wish I’d known sooner.”

“Um... R-Rarity?” Fluttershy peeked out from behind Applejack. “M-Maybe I could help?” “Ah? Yes - yes, Fluttershy!” Rarity grinned, broadly. “That would be very helpful. But do you have the time?”

“I... I can find it,” Fluttershy said, walking to her side, and Rarity smiled. “Okay! Let’s see... Fluttershy and I can handle the dresses. Pinkie Pie?” “No worries,” Pinkie cheerfully declared. “I can handle my end of this!” “Okay,” Twilight said, looking to Applejack. “Do you need anything?” “Well, I’m gonna need to get word to and from my kinfolk, and the mail’s a mite slow to coordinate something this big on notice like this.”

Rainbow Dash laughed, and leaned over to nudge her. “I’m the fastest pony in all of Equestria! I can get word to wherever it needs to be!”

Twilight smiled at her friends unanimously pitching in. Last year’s event had been a disaster, but it seemed like they were rallying to make this year’s the best night that it was supposed to be. She was going to have to keep an eye on them - make sure that Pinkie didn’t go too overboard, make sure that Applejack didn’t work herself to exhaustion, but the lessons of the past two years weren’t lost on them. She grinned. “Girls? Spike? We are going make this...” All of them raised their hooves (and Spike’s hand,) and declared, in unison, “The Best Night Ever!”

Empire of the Moon on FIMfiction.net
Table of Contents (On Google Docs)
Next Chapter: Reminiscences

Author's Notes:

So, here we go. Trying this again, now that I've been harangued into chapterizing the story on Google Docs instead of volumizing, I can import from Google Docs. Unfortunately, the formatting is still not great, I can't for the life of me seem to get the text to left-align properly, and FIMfiction doesn't have the fonts I like.

But at least it is properly grabbing italics/horizontal bars, so that's something. But still, for the full effect, including the footnotes which FIMfiction does not properly support, I most strongly recommend you read the story as a Google document, the way it was intended to be read. (And preferably with Firefox, as some readers have reported oddities on other browsers.)