Love Does Its Best

by Cynewulf

Rating: teen
Tags: Rainbow Dash, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad, Romance, Applejack
Length: 3274

Applejack is fed up with Rainbow.

Applejack is fed up with Rainbow, who is back from the Wonderbolts. She can't even place her hoof on it, but she's ticked. Rainbow won't help enough. She's alone in the orchard, and Celestia alone knows where Rainbow is. There's a whole list of reasons, really, and Applejack is just sick of counting them. And so she goes searching.

Published 2013-04-29 07:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-04-29 07:20:01 UTC

Love Does Its Best

Applejack was a dark and steady plodding thunderhead, her eyes as quick as lightning and the sound of her hooves like angry thunderclaps. Big Macintosh’s early words had not soothed the storm in her mind. They had simply slid off of her like water from a ship.

“Consarn it, Rainbow.”

So her hoof had been forced. It was the way of the world or at least the way of things with Rainbow Dash. The days had passed, as they were wont to, and Rainbow had been absent while the sun was up. When the day was drawing to a close, and Applejack was turning in, there her spouse would be, gliding down from some aerial haunt.

Her hooves ached. Her legs ached. Her back felt like a hammered board to cover some fence’s gaping absence.

She approached the house, muttering curses under her breath. When she entered, it was like a gale punching the door in, and the floor shuddered slightly.

Nopony in the living room. Of course not. Dash wouldn’t be as foolish as to be that easily found. Applejack grimaced in ill-temper at the furniture and stalked upstairs. She passed the other rooms in the long hallway, headed for their bedroom. Well. Her bedroom. The little sign above the door still said Applejack, after all.

This door was closed, and she paused before it. Didn’t think I’d find her so easy, but I’ll take it. Right. Don’t be stallin’, Applejack, or she might bolt off.

She took a deep breath and then opened the door with controlled violence, barking. “Dammit, Rainbow, every time I need ya, yer sleepin’ an’... an’...” Applejack worked her mouth, but nothing came out.

Nothing. Nopony. The sheets were mussed, and she looked away from them, her surprise leaving in another flash of bitter feeling. She recalled—

—a warm kiss on her neck, the rays of the sun pouring in, the smell of love and breakfast that brought in the busy, bright day—

And she turned.

“Well. Damn.”

Applejack walked back down the hall, eyes forward and down. She descended the stair and paused once more in the living room, head turning to scan the entirety of it. Of course, Rainbow was still not there, but really Applejack needed no assurance of that. She was remembering.

She remembered Rainbow walking in the front door, home from her tour. She remembered the smile on her face and the feel of the smile that had taken over her own countenance and how she had met her two steps in, and they had hugged with such power that it was like an earthquake and how awfully Applejack had missed her.

And look at it, taste how bitter it was: she was still missing her.

She noticed a sort of burning sensation on her right foreleg and she glanced down, hissing with pain. There was a cruel streak of red, where her effort out in the orchard had been rewarded with blood and humiliation. It was the way of the world, though.

Well, it would have been usually, but today was different.

I should clean that while I’m here, she thought to herself as anger cooled. It was the practical thing to do, and suddenly she wasn’t sure how much she really wanted to find the pegasus she had married like a fool. Probably out there sleeping, lazy fool.

She washed the blood off in the kitchen sink, biting her lip as the water stung at the exposed flesh for a moment. The bandage was applied with practiced ease.

Applejack sighed and leaned against the counter.

To go out looking? Perhaps. She wanted to. She wanted nothing more than to find Rainbow sleeping on some fool cloud or in the branches of some tree where she thought she was safe and to buck her down. Part of her wanted nothing more than for Rainbow to faceplant in the good earth, taste a bit of the soil. Maybe it’d do a bit of good.

But Celestia I’m tired. Climbin’ that tree didn’t help none either. She sighed, and off came the trademark hat. She didn’t regret it, of course; making the sacrifice was a part of life on the farm. The apples had to come down. It was the way of the world. Either they did or they rotted, and that was wrong. And if bucking the tree was proving futile and strenuous on the bark? Well, up she went. Ponies weren’t meant for it, but she was willing.

Of course, it wasn’t like it was necessary for her to do that.

She put her hat back on for just a moment and considered her choices. Go out and find Dash, or go back upstairs. Go out and look for one pegasus on more than a hundred acres of solid trees and rows of crops, or a nice, wonderful bed after a hard day of sweat and toil in the good earth.

Yeah, that one is easy. She can go soak her head, layabout. All I’m gonna do is yell at her, anyhow.

Anger did not return as she climbed the stairs once more. Annoyance, yes, but fury had passed with the blood on her foreleg. As she had fallen out of the tree, a stray branch tearing at her, she had known that Rainbow would have finished the task in seconds, and she had felt the hole of that abandonment, and it had been like a bed of nails.

The bed she found in her room, however, was not of nails. She flopped down on it with a long and contented sigh. Sheets. Sheets and pillows made everything better. So did some good hard cider, but this was probably the better choice between the two.

The effect on her aching limbs was nothing short of miraculous. The bed accepted her, and she melted into it.

And she thought.

When Rainbow had come back from her tour with the Wonderbolts, Applejack had been ecstatic. When Rainbow had promised she would help out a bit once she had recovered from the road, Applejack had been hopeful. When she had failed to live up to that promise, Applejack had been disappointed but not surprised.

It was a pattern, she figured. Rainbow would try for awhile, follow a routine. She’d help you loyally. Day by day, though, she would drift more and more, until at last she was nowhere to be seen, an excuse in hoof for all occasions until she didn’t even bother with them anymore and she just snapped back if you nagged her.

Way of the world.

Was it though? Was it really? Rainbow stuck with weather work, didn’t she? Sure, she lazed, but that was just part of being a flier, apparently. She kept up with friends, and she kept up with the Wonderbolts. Wasn’t it really just the farm that she couldn’t keep pace with, with Applejack that she couldn’t walk side by side with?

She honestly didn’t want to keep going down that mental road.

She really just wanted to not think about it at all. All desire to confront Rainbow in frustration was gone, replaced with a sort of limp irritation. She had learned to waste not, as all ponies of the soil did. Energy was life, and life had to be preserved. So why move? Rainbow would come to her, and she would be ready when the pegasus landed. She would wait and be patient as the good earth.

She stayed awake as long as she could. But the day had been longer than most, and her temper had taken more from her than she thought, and she gave in.

Applejack had dreamed about marriage as a foal.

Actual dreams, similar to one another. Always a stallion, always a dress, always a little family. A child or two, sometimes two colts, sometimes a little filly, it changed. Working the fields, bringing up apples and Apples, a new generation of steady hooves and good hearts to keep the Acres alive.

He was always larger than her, and strong like a rock. He was always muscle-bound, always a stallion’s stallion, his eyes deep and endless and his smile reassuring. His voice was always low like the rumbling of thunder, but kinder. He was always strong and always there.

In her dreams, he would be out working. She would wipe the sweat of work from her brow and see him over in a field they were readying for planting. Corn perhaps, it was always something, she would remember thinking, and he would be there like an inevitability, like the earth beneath her or the sky above, and he would love the farm like she did. And she would smile and wave, and in those dreams her husband would look up and wave back and smile—she never could see or remember his face, but she would remember him smiling—and that smile would make her little filly heart swell with happiness, and she held the dreams in her heart.

He was always an earth pony, and in her dreams she loved him, and she knew he adored her. She also knew that they loved the earth together. It was important.

When Applejack’s eyes opened, the sun was gone, and the sky out her window was full of stars. The hall light cast illumination on the wall.

She cursed in the night air and shivered. Didn’t mean to sleep. That feathered fool probably ate her fill without even thinkin’ ‘bout where I was.

It was a petty thought, and she recognized it as such immediately. Honestly, she wasn’t in any mood to be fair. There wasn’t anything fair about what Rainbow was doing, after all.

She didn’t rise immediately, though she hated the feeling of laziness that her unexpected nap had brought about. She hated feeling indolent, aimless. It was all Rainbow’s fault.

When she saw movement, it startled her. Rainbow was there, in the shadows, leaning in the doorway. The light in the hall was behind her, casting her face in shadow so that Applejack could only make out the basic shape of it. Rainbow was still—damn mircale, that is!—and when she spoke it was strange in Applejack’s ear.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

So they paused. Applejack set her jaw and rose up halfway. Rainbow Dash’s wings looked like they were about to unfold, and they fidgeted on her wife’s back. Her right hoof shook, like it was asleep. And yet Applejack said nothing, despite these signs.

“Big Macintosh said you were looking for me earlier,” Rainbow said at last.

Applejack barked a laugh. “Guess ya could say that.”

“Said you were mad.”

“An’ I guess that’s true too.”

“What’d I do?” Rainbow asked, and now she was less shy. Or so it seemed to Applejack, who was still as could be in her bed.

“Good question. What have ya done?”

“Well, hell, I’m not gonna know unless you tell me. I can’t think of anything bad I’ve done,” Rainbow said and entered the room fully at last. “I mean, like, not recently. I haven’t even seen you since this morning, and you were fine then.”

“Yeah, I was fine then, wasn’t I? Applejack was jus’ fine, wasn’t she.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Of course ya don’t.”

Rainbow Dash stood by the bed. Now that her eyes had adjusted, Applejack could see her face screwed up in confusion, her brow furrowed. “Applejack, please, I really am trying here, but you’ve gotta work with me. What—”

“I gotta work with you,” Applejack said flatly.

“Uh... well, yeah. I mean, I can’t read your mind, AJ. I’m a Wonderbolt, not a mind reader. That’s Pinkie’s job,” she tried a grin. Applejack stared at her, and it faltered.

“Yeah, you’re right. You are a Wonderbolt.”

Rainbow, like a child, began to put pieces together. At least, that is how it looked to Applejack as those rose eyes widened and she began to sputter.

“Look, you’re weirding me out, AJ. Can’t you just tell me what’s wrong? Skip all the bull?”

“Yer right. It is bull.”

“For Celestia’s sake, Applejack, please!”

“Rainbow? Climb on the bed.”

Rainbow obeyed, fidgeting. Applejack laid on the bed and considered her. Watched how uncomfortable she was, how her eyes darted, she could almost see the cogs working. And she felt something. Something small and sad and like a crawling thing.

“Rainbow, do ya really not know why I’m mad at ya? Can’tcha guess?” she asked, frowning. “Not at all? Even a little bit.”

“No. I want to know. Just tell me, please? I mean, I don’t think I did anything, and I was gonna come up here and ask you earlier, but Mac said you were pissed.”

“I was. I’m not rightly sure what I am, right now,” she said, and her voice was soft. “Ya really don’t know? Hadn’t even a bit of a clue, hon?”

The pet name seemed to ease the tension in her wings and muscles, and Rainbow laid her head down on the bed. Her ears drooped; they wilted.

“No. I really don’t. I’ve tried figuring out since Mac told me. You slept a long time. I watered the North Forty today, like you asked me to when we woke up,” she said, yawning. “I mean, I thought it was enough. Nopony was out there today, so I kinda just winged it.”

Applejack sighed. “Wanted ya to work the south fields.”

Rainbow’s head darted up. “Aw shit, really? I’m sorry, I thought—”

“Ya heard me wrong, it’s fine. You thought you were doin’ what I toldja. You can do it tomorrow, I suppose,” Applejack offered and reached out a hoof. She stroked Rainbow’s mane. It was soft, surprisingly so.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“But that’s not what you’re mad about,” Rainbow started again. It wasn’t a question.

“Nope.” Applejack continued her ministrations.

“I give up. I tried, I really did. I just... I don’t understand. I’m not an egghead, and I’m not good about feelings. You know that.”

“I do,” Applejack said softly.

“I just... We were happy this morning.”

Applejack smiled. She made a decision and stood up on the bed, moving so that she laid beside Rainbow. She kissed Rainbow’s mane, kissed her ear, nestled her chin atop her wife’s head. She didn’t answer for a moment, just breathing quietly and noticing that Rainbow smelled nice. It was always surprising, that she did. Applejack had found so much about Rainbow surprising. She was different, so very different from Applejack. “We were. It was a good mornin’. Good night, as well. I’m glad ta have ya back, Rainbow. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, but I’m here now. I’ve been back for like weeks, Applejack.”

“I know ya have. I ain’t seen much of ya, though. It’s been busy,” the farmer said, and stroked Rainbow’s side contemplatively.

“Why were you mad?” Rainbow asked, tenacious.

“I just... I got frustrated today. Had to climb a tree in the South Forty, tryin’ to knock some apples free—that tree is gettin’ too old to buck real hard, y’know. Fell. Got cut up a bit, y’see it?” She shifted the two of them, and showed Rainbow. “Wanted to know where ya were, hadn’t seen ya.”

“I was watering.”

“I know ya were hon. I know that, now,” she said and kissed her cheek. “But ya weren’t with me in the field, and it pissed me off.”

Rainbow squirmed. “Now, hold on, just because I wasn’t right there—”

“Hush. I ain’t fussin’, I’m ‘splainin’. You be still, got it?” she said and squeezed Rainbow tightly. “Just lie still awhile, an’ let me finish, alright?”

“Fine,” Rainbow said, and Applejack rolled her eyes. Pouting. It was Rainbow through and through, little miss don’t-know-nothin’-’bout-feelin’s indeed.

“Can I tell you somethin’? Somethin’ that I ain’t never mentioned before, and that ya might not like? I jus’... wonder.”

Rainbow was quiet, very quiet. Applejack wished that the lights were on and that Rainbow was facing her. She wanted to see that face, look in those eyes. Her heart stirred in her chest, and she felt alone until Rainbow spoke again.

“Sure.”

“You work hard with the Wonderbolts, don’tcha? Travelin’ and such. I’m awful proud of ya. I really am. I mean, I’m damn impressed with it all, your flyin’ and such. I love watchin’ ya, and I always have as long as we’ve known each other,” she began. Rainbow didn’t respond, so she continued, her hoof once again stroking that rainbow mane. “When I was a filly, I used to dream. ‘Bout growin’ up and such. Inheritin’ the farm, gettin’ hitched. Havin’ a filly or a colt or somethin’.”

“Applejack—” Rainbow was stirring.

Applejack continued on, her voice neither rising in volume nor breaking, but growing swifter. “An’ I would dream ‘bout havin’ some big lug of a husband who’d plow the fields like my brother does now and buckin’ apples in the row over from him and how we’d love this place together—”

Rainbow was squirming like a frightened, caught rabbit. “AJ, hey, hold on—”

“I ain’t done, ‘s alright. You be still a moment, pard,” she said, her eyes wandering towards the wall ahead of her, shrouded by the night. The moonlight coming through the window illuminated so little. “But I used to dream. I think all fillies do, y’know? You didn’t have no dreams ‘bout weddin’s and gettin’ hitched an’ all that?”

Rainbow was facing her. The look in her eyes did something to Applejack’s stomach. It wasn’t fear. It was something quieter. It bothered her.

“I guess so, yeah. Kinda? Maybe?”

“Well I did. I jus’ always imagined sharing the fields with him, and I thought it might be nice. To love the Earth with someone else.”

“What does that mean?” Rainbow’s voice was strained.

“I’m not sure I can rightly explain it, Dash. But I wish I could. I really, really do. It don’t mean a thing. I’m sorry I was mad at ya.”

“Hold on, now, AJ—” Rainbow began, but Applejack kissed her. It was not a soft kiss.

She continued when they broke for air, her hoof stroking Rainbow’s chin. “Shush, sugarcube. Said I was sorry, didn’t I? Anyhow, don’t mean a thing. Sometimes ya dream an’ think stuff is perfect, and maybe it ain’t. I don’t know. But I love you.”

“Is this about kids? I mean, I never said I didn’t want kids, AJ... I mean, we—” Once again, the farmer’s kisses silenced her.

“Come out to the fields with me,” she said when they broke, and she smiled. “Come out with me, and work beside me, and ya don’t have to get it. I know ya don’t. You know a lot of things, Rainbow, but ya don’t gotta know it all to be there. Ya don’t gotta love the earth, you just gotta love me. I’m alright with that.”

“I’m still confused,” Rainbow said, a bit out of breath. “I’ll do it, though, you know I will. I just don’t know what you’re really doing, and I get in your way. I’m a pegasus, AJ. I’m not a ground pony.”

“I know ya are, hon. And it’s alright. It really is. Love does its best. I know that.”

And it did.

Author's Note

Love Does Its Best
To Keep the Darkness Away.

From a song I wrote a year ago.

Sorry randomguy I didn't wait for ya. Cry yer pardon sai.

Hello, NiC. I wrote you a story, a little bit. I thought about something you said.

Thank y'all for readin'! See ya later. Please, leave me a comment.