An Apple Studded Diamond

It is Hereby Agreed

The golden liquid in the shot glass wobbled as its vessel came to a halt again after being restlessly shifted back and forth across the deep-stained, highly polished surface of the heavy oak desk for the ump-teenth time. The brown hoof that guided it retreated again for the moment to touch the letter that had been read and re-read so many times in the last hour and a half. The first shot of apple brandy had gone down quickly enough for Filthy Rich. The second was taking far longer to reach his mouth.

The well-to-do business stallion looked over at the Canterlot Crystal decanter, formerly three-fourths filled. It was now less than a fifth so. The intervening dozen or more shots of liquor had not passed his lips in their disappearance. The fate of the brandy was clearly present in the room in the form of his beloved wife, Silken Sash, who now lay sprawled on a fainting couch in the corner of his study, deep in a liquor infused sleep.

The cause had been the preceding argument, which had been heated, tearful, sour, and pointed. The truths laid out had been hard, but undeniably real. Every problem, every alternate solution that had been tried had seen another ounce of liquor vanish into Silken’s muzzle. The argument had finished when Silken herself had been finished and retreated to the fainting couch in defeat.

That left Filthy Rich to himself to finish laying the pros and cons of his impending decision on the scales of reason and to see where the balances of fate swung for good or ill. With a sigh he laid his head on the polished surface of his desk as he scanned his private home office. The bookshelves that lined the walls were the same rich brown as the finish on his desk. They were lined with books: business management, finance, accounting, economics, business records from three generations of Rich’s Barnyard Bargains, and histories of Ponyville, Equestria, and his own family.

It was family that this was about. It was what had driven Silken to her limits. If this had been just about business, bits, inventory, or such, he’d have had a decision made long ago and not had need to involve his wife. But it wasn’t, it was about family, and that made it necessary to bring in Silken for her two bits to be weighed in the decision.

Her arguments had been predictable, emotional, and limited. He so hated always playing the Legal Councilor of Tartarus in such matters, and this time it stung him dearly for it. The weight of the emotions that he had to hold back in order to see a course of action in this matter had pained him dearly, but it had to be. His family’s whole legacy and standing in the community depended on his impending decision, and one way or another its was going to make him a villain to somepony, and he knew exactly who one of them was for absolute certain.

Sitting himself back in his chair Filthy Rich brought his front hooves together beneath his chin and collected his thoughts a moment before reaching down to the bottom right drawer of his desk. The drawer slid open softly as its owner reached in and withdrew a locked, handle topped box in his mouth, placing it on the desktop before him. Flipping the latch with the tip of a hoof, he carefully sorted through the contents until he located the specific seal he sought, and withdrew the clasped parchment and laid it aside. The box was then closed and latched and returned to its drawer as the brown stallion settled back in his seat.

Ridge, my old friend, Filthy Rich thought wistfully as he looked at the carefully folded parchment laying on the desktop before him, the bright apple-green wax seal embossed with the same fruit, I did everything I could to see that Sweet Apple Acres' legacy was safely passed on to your heirs after the accident. Now, I’m going to have to ask them to help secure mine.

Slipping the parchment with his colt-hood friend’s family seal attached into his business collar, Filthy Rich drew the shot glass back towards himself one final time. Locking his lips around the rim of the glass, he tossed his head back letting the sweet alcohol concentrated cider drain into his being before returning the glass to the hardwood surface.

His fortification ritual complete, the brown business pony trotted out from behind his desk to where Silken Sash lay in her induced catatonia. He leaned over the violet gray mare he loved with the white mane and tail shot with highlighting pink streaks. A tear of regret rolled down his muzzle as he placed a soft kiss on his wife’s cheek.

“I’m sorry my dear, we both knew that this was the likely end. Sleep well, I know how much you hate losing arguments.”

It was so true. Silken Sash, loathed losing arguments of the manner that she had just engaged in. Not so much as for the lost debate, Filthy knew as he quietly drew the door closed behind him. It was how wroth her head would be with her later that she so loathed losing.

* * * * *

… 218 … 219 … 220. The big work pony let out a sigh as he reached the end of the furlong and hung his tired self over the fence rail as he reached for the canteen hung on the nearby post. There were days that the heavy scarlet work pony could almost come to curse Princess Celestia and her life-giving sun and today was one of them. Plowing a field in late spring under the full view of Celestia’s sun was one of his least favorite things in life. He’d rather do such work early in the morning with cooler air to avoid looking and feeling like he did right now. His coat felt like is was a half-size too small right now, and sweat rolled down his scarlet hide giving him the appearance of having been flayed raw. His cutie mark by contrast looked like a massive freshly cut granny smith apple with juice beading on the inner face, almost tempting enough to take a bite from his own flank for.

Emptying the contents of the canteen into his maw and over his head, the eldest son of Apple Ridge and Orange Bloom cast a glance over his workspace. It was near noon and he was almost done this half-acre. He really did prefer the cool of the morning to do this, but had started late due to some bad weather earlier that morning resulting from a schedule shuffle by the local weather boss in order to get to an air show on time.

The sight of a brown earth pony in a business collar and tie trotting up the road towards the main Barn-house caught the big red stallion’s attention.

“Good Morning McIntosh,” called Filthy Rich with a polite wave.

“Eeyup,” Mac responded in kind to his ‘Uncle’ Fil. He was probably the only one of the three Apple siblings that could remember their father’s longtime friend telling them to call him that. Applejack had been too young and Apple Bloom hadn’t even been born yet when ‘Uncle’ Fil had been a regular social visitor to the farm.

“You aren’t lying to me now are you Mac?” The brown stallion raised one eyebrow in amusement at Mac’s response. Most ponies wouldn’t have given it a second thought.

“Eeyup.” Mac grinned wryly back.

“Weellll then,” the business stallion whickered chipperly, “maybe I can help improve that.”

“We’ll see.” McIntosh noted as his father’s closest friend continued on to the barn-house.

His reprieve over, McIntosh set to turning the plow to the next furrow. It was two hundred and twenty paces to finish the next furrow. Mac’s mind ran the math for the work ahead of him, furlongs, furrows, his best pace, temperature, exertion, watering, he had probably another forty to fifty minutes ahead of him. It also meant that he’d need another canteen of water or two and that meant …

“Hey big brother!”

Problem solved. Thought the scarlet stallion as the sharp pitch of his youngest sister’s voice announced her return with the last two canteens he’d sent her to fill for him. Since earning her cutie mark, Apple Bloom had gained almost a hoof and a half at the withers. Still slighter than her sister, the strawberry maned filly was nearly a mare-grown.

“Hey, y’r self Apple Bloom.” Mac spoke to the little olive blonde filly as she trotted up and hung the two filled canteens on the next fence post. “Would y’ mind fillin’ up that last canteen fer me? It’s hangin’ thar on the fence post.”

“I think that c’n wait a bit big brother,” the youngest apple chirped out, excitement becoming evident in her voice, “Granny Smith want’s y’ up at …”

“YEEE-HAAAWW!”

The sound of the two siblings elderly grandmare’s excitement carried clearly across to the fence of the field where the two siblings stood. For a moment the two looked at each other as if silently asking ‘what’s that about?’ before Apple Bloom decided to finish what she’d been telling her brother.

“Anyway brother, they all want ya up …”

“WHAT!?”

The two siblings again exchanged questioning glances as the voice of their sister Applejack unmistakably made its way to their ears. Apple Bloom canted her head and shrugged at her brother who cocked an eyebrow in reply.

“Guess we’d best go find out what’s gone and got Granny so all fired happy an' stuck a burr un’er yer sister’s saddle.”

Apple Bloom looked at her big brother with a half-grin that asked ‘are we really sure we want to?’ before replying with a simple. “Eeyah…”

* * * * *

Reaching the farmyard, Mac stopped to stick his head in a rain barrel and give himself a quick rubdown with a towel before heading in. Apple Bloom just simply trotted in without pause. Reaching the dining room table she found Granny Smith, the elderly matriarch of Sweet Apple Acres, grinning ear to ear and shaking Filthy Rich’s hoof as she patted him robustly on the withers assuring the business pony, “Ah’m sure as cider’s sweet he’ll agree t’ help ya.”

By contrast, Applejack, who was sitting across the table, simply stared agawk at the other two ponies, eyes drawn to pinpoints.

The littlest Apple was about to shake her sister from her daze and ask her what was going on when her big brother trotted into the room.

“Ah, good. McIntosh y’r here.” Granny Smith beamed gleefully at the arrival of her grandson. “Filthy, here has a business proposition fer ya, and a fine sweet one at that.”

“Actually, son,” the business stallion spoke as he straightened his tie and slid a partially folded sheet of paper across the table in McIntosh’s direction, “I would be very grateful if you would consent to help my family with an undertaking of a most important nature regarding the future financial and social welfare of both our families.”

Apple Bloom could hardly see what was on the page before her brother picked the page up on one hoof, reading it at a height she could not easily reach. She had seen the opened green-apple seal of the family farm.

“I agree in principle," Big Mac began his reply with firm assuredness, "but I’d like to add addendums to alter terms of clauses one, nine, and eleven. By double, half, and changing the primary custodial stewardship during minority. Otherwise we can proceed directly to implement the option of clause thirteen.”

Apple Bloom didn’t know what her brother was talking about as he finished speaking and passed the page back across the table to Diamond Tiara’s father, Filthy Rich. Her brother’s hoof was so large she could barely see anything of the paper as he moved it across the table. What she did see were the words at the top of the page …

It is hereby agreed, in accordance with Equestrian law …