Cherry Trees

THUNK.

Cherries fall into baskets all around her, a pitter-patter of harvested fruit. She almost winces—the tree is still shaking, and she swears it even looks bent from the force of her bucking.

Skinny little things. Nothing like my good ole’ apple trees back

Home.

This time she does wince.

Don’t fret. Just a few weeks, save up the bits, I’ll be home lickety-split.

She rears up to buck again. It’s always been the best cure for thinking too much.

Thunk.

More cherries. This tree is just about finished.

Thunk.

It feels weird, holding back. But the first time she bucked a cherry tree? Damn near tore it out by the roots. Miss Jubilee laughed fit to bust her corset.

Thunk.

I’m so sorry Miss Jubilee please take it out of my pay this week I’ll be careful with yer trees from now on I swear

THUNK.

She pauses again, making a conscious effort to ease off. The tree is empty of fruit. She sets about gathering up the few strays that didn’t land in a basket.

Sorry? Why, Applejack, with legs like that ah do think I’ll be payin’ you extra.

She carries the baskets to a wagon, one by one. Again, light little things. Nothing like a solid barrel of Sweet Apple Acre’s finest.

Wimpy little fruit. Might as well be pickin’ flowers. Should be Rarity out here.

She sighs and shakes her head.

Enough o’ that now!

Cherries are a fine crop. Maybe they ain’t apples, true, but they’re a fine crop. Nopony forced you to come out here to this...

She looks around, supposedly scoping out her next tree. It’s a vastly different place from the Acres. Drier, most definitely, but not so dry as Appleloosa. She would call it Mediterranean, if she knew the word.

She gathers up a few empty baskets, stacked together, and ambles off. The trees are pink—pink, can you believe it? Each trunk is topped with a silky canopy of light pink flowers, almost white, crowding out the leaves.

She walks in silence. A gust of breeze picks up, and petals waft through the air all around her. It looks almost like snow.

It looks kinda like Fall back home.

She stops, glaring at nothing in particular.

No it doesn’t. Less you think about home for the time being, the better.

She forges on, doing her best to be unimpressed by the staggering beauty surrounding her. It’s a losing battle. Dusk is coming. The sky is just starting to fade into light hues of pink and red, shading the ranch in a dazzling rain of colors.

It’s not so bad, as long as she’s in the thick of it. She can’t see too far in any one direction. She knows there are other ranch hands out and about, with wagons and baskets of their own, but none of them are near enough to see.

She trudges up a small rise, keeping her eyes downcast. Petals dance through the air in front of her, throwing themselves to their deaths without a sound. Somewhere deep in her head, a poetic bit of her stretches and yawns, weak from under-use, and smiles at the sight.

She crests the small hill. She looks up without thinking, and the baskets drop to the dirt. That forgotten poetry in her mind leaps out of bed and howls in delight.

It’s beautiful. Heart-stoppingly, mind-numbingly beautiful. She can see for miles, looking out over a canopy of flowers, dotted with the reds and yellows of fresh fruit. Here and there, she can catch glimpses of the streams and brooks that keep this patch of land from being the desert it’s surrounded by.

For a pony that rarely leaves home, Applejack feels like she’s been a lot of places. And seen a lot of things. But this here might be one of the prettiest. It’s definitely something different.

Her ear twitches. A distant echo of laughter drifts through the trees.

Probably Applebloom and her friends playin’ in the blossoms.

No it ain’t, you dummy. Just another ranch hand, most like.

She gets the weird urge to take her hat off and cover her face in shame. Instead, she picks up her baskets and turns her back on that most unsettling of vistas. She walks up to the closest tree and begins laying out the baskets, spaced in a loose circle around the trunk.

Applebloom would love it here.

Well, that’s neither here nor there.

Mac would, too. He wouldn’t say nothin’ but he’d probably be pickin’ blossoms when he thought you weren’t lookin’.

So what? Moot point. All of ‘em.

Go home just go home I miss them oh goddess I miss them all

That nauseous aching starts to creep out from her heart again. She stomps it down, eyeing the bunches of cherries above her and adjusting the baskets just so.

At least write another letter or somethin’.

No. No going home. Not until things have been set right.

She heaves a long sigh, powerless to stop it. Instinctively, she looks around, feeling caught out for some reason. She’s still alone.

She looks up and down, making sure she’s satisfied with her layout. All good. She turns, leans forward for a good hard buck, and-

PAIN hooooooo boy howdy

Sharp tearing, all up her shoulder blades. She falters mid-buck and takes a moment to steady herself. It’s been a few days. She thought that would be feeling better by now.

You pushed and pushed and pushed and you still came in second.

She snorts loudly.

Screw-up. Failure.

Buncha horse apples, that. Ain’t nothing you can’t make right with good, honest work.

I bet Rainbow Dash is just losin’ her feathers back in Po-

She snorts again and sets up, charging right through the burning in her shoulders as her weight shifts to the front.

THUNK.

A good hit. Fruit comes tumbling down.

All of ‘em. Frettin’ and hemmin’ and hawin’ and what not

THUNK.

Fluttershy stopping by with eggs like she always does, all blushing and muttering

THUNK.

Stop by town, Rarity and Twilight havin’ tea or some such, swing by the bakery fer some

THUNK.

Little Applebloom. Big Mac. Granny. Poor lil’ Winona.

THUNK.

Bring back lots of money!

THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.

She stops, breathing heavily. Sweat trickles down her temples. The muscles in her upper back twitch and shiver.

Cut it out. Focus.

She does. There is no Ponyville. There are no friends or family. Just Applejack and a ranch and a tree with too many cherries. She’s squaring up her stance for another buck when a sound drifts through the trees again.

A bell.

It’s that big, tarnished old thing right outside the farmhouse. Miss Jubilee does right by her workers—in before sundown, hot grub for your troubles.

She stares off through the trees, towards the source of the noise. She looks up at her tree. Bunches of cherries are practically weighing the poor thing down.

You already filled up five wagons today.

Not enough. Ain’t good enough.

Her stomach growls. She barely notices. Back home, she would stop and have a few apples. Why not? They are hers, after all. It never even crosses her mind to do the same here.

You wanna go home, dontcha?

She nods, again at no one in particular. She sets up for a good, hard buck.

I said I was comin’ back with money.

And that’s what’s gonna happen.

THUNK.

* * *

Applejack quietly closes the door behind her. It’s a huge farmhouse, practically an estate manor. Plenty of rooms, for workers and family. But on a work day, especially in season, things quiet down pretty early in the evening.

You could even have a nice meal of leftovers all by your lonesome and never see another soul.

It’s dark out, and almost as dark inside. Applejack darts her eyes around. She’s still not sure why she does this. The other workers seem plenty nice. But for some reason she’s been keeping to herself.

She is alone. Thankfully. She’s washed up and fed, and all that’s left is to creep up to her room and sleep. And then another day of the same and another and another and another until

Home

Save it. Ain’t close yet, and if you start thinkin’-

“Applejack?”

“Oh! Uh...e—evenin’ Miss Jubilee.”

Applejack instantly doffs her hat, wrestling with some strange kind of guilt. Cherry Jubilee lights an old-fashioned oil lamp on a table nearby and gives her a look that Applejack can’t meet at all. She fidgets in place, trying to meet her boss’ eyes but mostly looking at the rug.

“Did you just get in?” Cherry Jubilee asks.

“Uh...” Applejack replaces her hat and mindlessly moves on to rubbing the back of her neck. Cherry Jubilee’s face is killing her—the worry in her green eyes, the slight frown where there’s always a strong smile, the obvious concern.

“Have you had supper?” Cherry asks.

“Yes, Miss Jubilee. Thank you. Took care of myself just now.”

“You know...” Cherry Jubilee interrupts herself with a weary sigh, almost shaking her head.

I don’t care if you were out getting into trouble, I just want you home safe.

“We served dinner hours ago. Y’all workers are all welcome. It ain’t even about your pay. It’s on the house.”

“I know. Much appreciated,” Applejack says.

Cherry Jubilee just cocks an eyebrow at her.

“Sorry for not joinin’ you. I guess it’s just the way I like to work—twelve hours good hard work, light meal, keep on with the-”

“Fourteen.”

“Huh?” Applejack stops short, blinking a few times.

“Fourteen. You worked fourteen hours today.”

“Well shucks,” Applejack almost does her signature curtsy, but can’t quite muster it. “What’re you, keepin’ count?”

“Well I am paying you.”

Applejack opens her mouth to respond, but nothing comes out.

“And plenty, too. Which reminds me—hard worker like you deserves a bonus,” Cherry Jubilee says.

“What?!” Applejack almost leaps backwards. “But I only been workin’ here-”

“No buts. I ain’t never seen a ranch hand works hard as you. You deserve it.” Cherry Jubilee crosses the room to a rustic little cabinet, all dark wood and years of varnish. She starts rummaging around inside, speaking over her shoulder. “And besides, this is my little way of tellin’ you it’s alright to take a break now and then. Maybe I pay you more, you don’t have to work so many hours. Nopony should.”

Applejack can’t stop her thoughts running away. How much of a bonus? How many days could this shave off of her exile? Of course, she would never ask such questions out loud.

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Miss Jubilee. Thank ya kindly.” She makes a show of doffing her hat again and even gives a little bow.

“Don’t mention it.” Jubilee barely looks back, seeming very satisfied.

“But I hope it won’t offend you if I keep on workin’ hard all the same,” Applejack says. Cherry Jubilee pauses and almost sighs, pulling out a tray and setting a glass on it.

“If that’s the way you want it. I ain’t gonna complain,” she says.

“Thank you Miss Jubilee. I got nothin’ against you and yours, this is just how I like to-”

Applejack freezes. Her mouth waters. Her heartbeat picks up.

How long has it been dear goddess how long must be a week since

Cherry Jubilee follows Applejack’s eyes to the bottle she just set out on the tray. The older mare’s eyes light up a little, and her usual coquettish smile comes back.

“Have you ever tried it?” she asks.

“What is it?” Applejack says, still staring at it.

It’s booze ain’t it? That’s what matters.

“Cherry Schnapps. Old family recipe. Best in the valley. Maybe best in all Equestria,” Cherry Jubilee says with undisguised pride.

“Can’t say I have,” Applejack says. She can’t take her eyes off the bottle, that size and shape that must mean alcohol. She barely notices, in the edge of her vision, the corner of Cherry Jubilee’s lips curling up into a sly smile.

“Why don’t you have a glass with me?” her boss offers.

“Love to!” Applejack says instantly. She has to fight to keep from licking her lips.

“Good, good. You and me, I think we need to have a little chat anyway. Come with me.”

Applejack follows wordlessly. Somewhere in the back of her head there are alarm bells going off at the words, “little chat”, but they’re being drowned out by a sudden onset of dire thirst.

I mean it ain’t exactly Sweet Apple Cider but beggars ain’t choosers nope no sir.

She’d been wondering vaguely what was wrong. Aside from the obvious, of course. There’s plenty out in the open. But even when deeply focused on work, a usually sacred state, Applejack has been feeling off the last few days.

All kinds of screwed up can’t focus can’t think can’t work as hard as I should be

Of course this is it. This is why. She’s used to having cider here and there most work days. And a nice night cap—some of her finest whiskey. Just a shot. Or two. Or three.

Boy howdy can’t wait to get a taste of these cherries.

She follows Cherry Jubilee, her eyes straining to stay on the bottle. Her boss is wearing a silky pink bathrobe, decorated with prints of flowers and cherries. It almost looks too silky, like it’s trying too hard, and ends up looking a little cheap in the process.

That’s what Rarity would say anyway. Ain’t nothing wrong with it, it’s mighty fine. Wait...why am I thinking about her? There’s a stiff drink comin’ in any minute now.

They enter a sitting room. Or a parlor, or something. Whatever you call a fancy room for sittin’ around and talking when you could be at an honest table. Cherry Jubilee lights a few oil lamps and wastes no time in pouring their drinks. She’s barely finished before Applejack snaps one up in her hooves.

She stops herself before taking a gulp. Cherry Jubilee is watching her, looking just a little suspicious.

“Aheh. Uh...thanks again. For all the hospitality,” Applejack says, willing herself to just hold the glass.

“You’ve more than earned it,” Jubilee says. She picks up the other glass and clinks it against Applejack’s.

And then, faster than a blink, there’s sweet liquid paradise in Applejack’s mouth.

“Mmmmmm HMM!” Applejack almost moans as she takes down half the glass, loving the sweet, tarty burning running down every inch of her throat. “Ahh!” she gasps for air. her whole body relaxes instantly.

“You can sit,” Cherry Jubilee says. Applejack just now notices that the other mare has settled onto a fancy couch of some kind. It’s like a rustic version of something Rarity would own.

Why am I thinkin’ of that frou-frou fancy flanks again?

Applejack sits down on another fancy couch. She’s stiff and uncomfortable at first, but she gulps down more of the Schnapps and almost melts into the cushions.

It’s thick. And sweet. Sweeter than pie. Sweeter than one of Pinkie’s cakes. Just about the sweetest thing she’s ever tasted. It’s almost too much. But it’s still alcohol.

And that’s what matters.

“More?” Cherry Jubilee asks.

“Huh?” Applejack looks down at her glass and is surprised to see just a tiny puddle at the bottom. “Uh...”

“Don’t feel rude, honey. I’m just happy to see somepony enjoyin’ the family brew.”

Applejack shrugs and offers her glass. Cherry Jubilee gets up and pours her another round.

“Boy, you cherry ponies sure do know how to brew a drink,” Applejack says as Cherry Jubilee sits down again. She’s resolved, no, determined not to guzzle this glass down as fast.

“You said you’ve done some brewing?” Cherry Jubilee asks.

“Well, uh...cider mostly. I do some beer and whiskey on the side.”

Mostly for myself.

“Cider, of course,” Cherry Jubilee says, sipping slowly at her own glass. “I’d love to try some.”

“Heh, maybe I’ll send you a case when I get home.”

“And when will that be?”

Applejack almost winces.

Just as soon as I can.

Instead, she gulps some drink down.

“You said you wanted to talk about somethin’?” Applejack asks.

“Mmm.” Cherry Jubilee just stares at her while sipping some more. Applejack shifts on her seat. Heavy silence stretches out—it usually wouldn’t bother Applejack, but she’s just on the edge of nervous, suppressing the urge to finish her drink off again.

She’s just about to say something when Cherry Jubilee does it for her.

“How are you liking the ranch?” she asks.

“Huh? Oh, uh...it’s mighty nice. Pretty,” Applejack says with a hopeful grin.

“How’s the work goin’? You settlin’ in alright?”

“Sure, sure. Ain’t bad at all.”

“You gettin’ along with the other workers?”

“Ah guess so. They seem nice and all, but we ain’t talked much. I been keepin’ my nose to the grindstone for the most part. Ain’t much for wastin’ work hours with jawin’.”

“Mmm,” Cherry Jubilee says again.

That ain’t true. I’m always happy to take a break and shoot the breeze with a friend.

You aren’t happy takin’ breaks around here.

Aright, aright...it’s true now. Maybe it ain’t usually so, but it’s true now.

“Shame you been missing mealtimes. You’re all anypony seems to be talkin’ about around these parts,” Cherry Jubilee says.

“What?” Applejack somehow forgets the drink in her hooves for a moment.

“Mmm-hmm. The other ranch hands won’t shut up about you. Showin’ up out of nowhere, fresh from a hot run at the Canterlot Rodeo. And then you get to work and put every one of ‘em to shame. Ain’t talkin’ much, ain’t takin’ breaks, don’t take but a few minutes for meals and then you’re off into the trees again.”

“Well, shucks, that’s just-”

“My sons are pushin’ me to keep you here as long as I can. Pay her whatever she wants, they say.”

“Oh, well...”

“And a few of the local colts are quite taken with you.”

Applejack almost spits out the gulp of Schnapps she hadn’t realized she’d just taken.

“You know Cedar Boughs? The big one?” Cherry Jubilee asks.

Applejack starts to nod, but realizes she has no idea. She has a natural salespony’s knack for names and faces, honed through years of practice. But right now she’s drawing a blank.

“He said you ain’t just the hardest worker on the ranch. Yer also the purdiest mare around. Blowin’ in from out of town, keepin’ to yer own self all mysterious. A beautiful stranger,” Cherry Jubilee says with a growing smile.

“Um...uh...” Applejack mutters, doing a fine impression of her little sister.

“And he’s right.”

Applejack freezes, just fine with the impulse to gulp more drink down.

“You are the hardest worker on the ranch,” Cherry Jubilee says.

Applejack lets out a breath she hadn’t realized was being held.

“I was hoping you would warm up to me and mine a bit,” Jubilee continues, “You know, ease up on all this ‘mare with no name’ business. Smile a little.”

Applejack almost chuckles.

Shoot, any pony in Ponyville heard all this they’d laugh fit to keel over.

“I’m just a farm pony, Miss. I ain’t been meanin’ to keep to myself, I swear. Just wanna get the job done,” Applejack says.

“When I first met you, you seemed like the friendliest pony I ever did see. So when you asked for a little work after the rodeo, I was happy to take you on...”

No no dammit be friendly dammit keep your job!

“I’m sorry Miss Jubilee,” Applejack cuts her off. “I like it here plenty. You’re right, it’s strange not joinin’ in on meals and not talkin’ and such. Ain’t proper. I promise I’ll ease up a little.”

“A little?” Cherry Jubilee says with a playful smirk.

“Aheh...well I ain’t gonna stop being yer hardest worker.” Applejack starts to chuckle, on sure footing again...

“Why are you here?”

...which turned out to be quicksand.

“Whaddya mean?” Applejack asks.

“Why are you here?” Cherry Jubilee says again, looking almost sad.

“Like I said, I just wanted a little change of scenery.”

“Horse apples,” Cherry Jubilee waves a hoof in a most Rarity-like fashion. “Don’t you want to go home?”

Applejack’s eyes dip down into her glass automatically, catching the sight of one pretty forlorn earth pony staring back.

More than anything.

“Don’t you miss yer family? Your friends?” Cherry Jubilee says.

More. Than. Anything.

Applejack says nothing, proud that the ache in her chest is producing nothing in her eyes. Almost nothing. Maybe just a little, tiny bit of moisture. She tries not to blink.

“I could see it,” Cherry Jubilee says quietly. “When we talked before, I could see it. When you talked about that orchard. The way your eyes lit right up.”

Applejack takes a long, solemn drink. She barely tastes it.

“And now you’re just here. But you aren’t here. Workin’ hard, no doubt. But yer heart’s somewhere else.”

Applejack sets up a nice, determined glare and shoots it right at the older mare.

“Listen,” she says. “If you want me to be movin’ on-”

Cherry Jubilee laughs, just once, a slightly mocking little guffaw.

“Applejack. Honey,” she says. “It ain’t like that. You keep doin’ like you’ve been doin’, you can stay here long as you want. I was honestly just wondering.”

Ever since she was a foal, Applejack can remember the feeling of holding back. Keeping secrets. Hiding things. It’s always been awful for her—like being sick. Like drinking too much too quick. Often, you gotta just have a good puke and get it out before it poisons you.

She’s wondered sometimes, since Twilight showed up, if it’s the whole Element thing. Or if the Element thing happened because that’s the way she is. She’s never made up her mind. Wondering isn’t her strong suit.

“But if you really are happy, then-” Cherry Jubilee starts to say.

“I can’t,” Applejack interrupts her.

“Pardon?” Cherry Jubilee says, visibly startled.

“I can’t go home. Not yet,” Applejack says. “Not for a while.”

Cherry Jubilee just stares at her, mouth slightly open. Applejack feels like hiding under her hat somehow, but she forges on.

“And that’s all I gotta say about it. I’m sorry, I ain’t meanin’ to be cold or nothin’ but that’s all I can say. I just...”

She trails off as Cherry Jubilee gets up from her sofa and crosses the room. It takes less than a moment—it’s a small, cozy room—and then the older mare is standing right in front of her, looking her right in the eye. Again, Applejack’s salespony instincts are failing her. She can’t read this face at all. Determined? Grim? Accusing?

“Uh...” Applejack holds her ground, tensed, ready for anything. Except what comes.

With a sigh of relief, the older mare hugs Applejack, nuzzling into her mane. She practically falls onto her, and Applejack is so surprised that she barely moves.

“Um...you...what?” Applejack stammers, not returning the hug in the least.

“You poor thing.” Cherry Jubilee pulls back, pouring a sympathetic look down on her worker. “You don’t have to say any more.”

The older mare forces her way onto Applejack’s couch, scooting in close. Applejack scootches over obediently, still wrapping her head around this.

It’s not a big piece of furniture—a loveseat, Applejack remembers. Meant for two. The two mares are seated close, practically snuggling, and Applejack can feel the soft fabric of the other mare’s bathrobe all along her coat.

“You stay here as long as you want,” Cherry Jubilee says. “And if you need anything—anything at all—you just let me know. We’re happy to have you.”

“What? I mean...I don’t wanna trouble you or nothin’,” Applejack says.

Cherry Jubilee rolls on, ignoring her. “I knew something was up. Trust me, honey, I understand.”

“You do?” Applejack’s ears perk up.

“Mmm-hmm.” Cherry Jubilee goes to take a drink before realizing she left hers on the other couch. She recovers with all the grace and poise of a Southern belle. “Life ain’t easy for a mare on her own. Never is. We mares need to stick together. Look out for each other.”

“We?”

“We is right, sugar. I was a young mare once. Wasn’t always matriarch of my own ranch, neither.”

Applejack almost giggles at the word “sugar.” The matriarch seemed to be in the habit of calling everypony “honey”, and for some reason sugar sounds funny coming from her mouth. Applejack tries to imagine calling her “sugar cube” and gets a wry, silly smile.

“Well thank ya, Miss Jubilee,” she says instead.

“Don’t mention it. You just keep on however you need to. Don’t think you don’t have ponies lookin’ out for you. Long as you’re here, you’re one of mine.”

Boy, do I ever owe her one.
Shame she don’t live closer to Ponyville.

Real solid mare, right here. Bein’ so generous to a screw-up like me.

Applejack feels a hoof on her shoulder and tenses up. She turns to say something, maybe politely brush the hoof away. But something about it just feels nice.

She lets a long breath out, then takes a sip of Schnapps. Not a desperate gulp. A calm sip. It tastes wonderful. She relaxes, really relaxes, and feels like her old self for the first time since the rodeo.

Boy, I haven’t been that churned up inside since...ever.
Still not home.

But I ain’t alone.
She turns to the older mare, pleased at the reassuring foreleg draped over her shoulder.

“Thank you, Miss. Really. I don’t know if I could ever-”

“Hush with that, sugar. I know. Don’t you worry about anything.”

That word again. Sugar. Normally Applejack would’ve gotten angry, just a little, at being talked over. Talked down to. As if she wasn’t a grown mare who’s done well for herself. As it is, she’s only vaguely unsettled, somewhere in the background. Mostly she just feels good. Safe. Almost like being home.

“I’m sorry,” Applejack says, not sure why she’s saying it again. “I mean it. I been...I been out of sorts, lately.”

Cherry Jubilee giggles, almost tittering, and gives Applejack a reassuring squeeze around her withers.

“I can tell. You’re a good pony, Applejack. I’m glad you landed here. Even if you’ve been out of sorts.” Cherry Jubilee pulls her closer and practically cradles her. Applejack starts to go with it.

What is this? What am I doing? Am I some kinda foal what in the buckin’ hell...?
She pulls back, pushing Cherry Jubilee’s hooves away.

“Uh...thanks. Again. Fer everything,” Applejack says. Suddenly the room feels very small and warm. She meets the older mare’s eyes and sees...something. Surprise? Disappointment?

What is up with me? I’m all kinds of off my game.
The look passes, replaced by that sure smile Applejack’s gotten so used to seeing. The moment stretches out, rapidly diving into awkward territory.

“Ahem,” Cherry Jubilee quietly clears her throat. “Anyway. Just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“I do. Trust me.” Applejack lays a hoof over one of Jubilee’s, more because she feels like she’s supposed to than anything else. She’s crushed against the other mare, pressed up against her with miles of spare space to her side.

I thought I was startin’ to feel better. What’s goin’ on now?
She consciously starts to scoot away, shifting her weight, when-

“Ah!” she says under her breath, seizing up as a hot tear of pain spikes through the valley between her shoulders.

“I heard that,” Cherry Jubilee says.

Dang it.
“Ah’m fine,” Applejack says with a hopeful grin.

“Cherry pits,” Jubilee says flatly. “I saw when you took that tumble in the barrel run. Nasty bit of fallin’. A lesser mare woulda been laid up fer sure.”

“Really, I’m fi-”

“Real bold of you. Cuttin’ it close like that. Almost paid off,” Cherry Jubilee says.

...Almost.
Applejack sighs, sinking down a little.

“Lemme have a look see,” Jubilee says.

“Huh?” Applejack doesn’t have time to react before her hat—her HAT—is taken off her head. Alarms ring out in her ears. She darts her eyes to follow it, expecting her hooves to fly out and violently reclaim the treasured article.

Nothing happens. Cherry Jubilee gently places the hat on the back of the sofa and firmly, with sure hooves, pushes Applejack into place. The orange earth pony tenses up but goes along with it for some reason. A weird, giddy tightness wells up in her chest as she finds herself lying, face down, on the soft cushions of the love seat.

I don’t like this.
Uncomfortable. No, it’s comfy, I guess, but...

Weird. Weird, weird, weird.
She had actually been dragged to the spa by her friends a few times. She had reluctantly gotten massages on those few occasions. She had felt this same discomfort the whole time—blind, pinned, at the mercy of another pony.

She nervously glances over her shoulder as Cherry Jubilee climbs on her back.

“Really, it ain’t-” Applejack starts to say.

“Come off it,” Cherry Jubilee says with stern authority. “Ah’m protectin’ my investment here.” She pokes a hoof into Applejack’s back, prodding at the steely muscles there.

“I can work just fine.” Applejack turns back to the couch and narrows her eyes.

“‘Til you bust down ‘cause you ain’t mended up.” Cherry prods and searches, running her hooves over Applejack’s coat.

Applejack almost growls something back at her, but instead just glares at the couch cushions.

“Does it hurt there?” A hoof presses into her right shoulder.

“Nope.” Applejack rolls her eyes a little.

“There?”

“No dice.”

Two hooves keep prodding and pressing and rubbing. Applejack lies there, anything but relaxed, counting the seconds until it’s over.

“Honestly, I’m okay. It doesn’t really hurt any—AH!”

She digs her hooves into the cushions, gritting her teeth. Cherry Jubilee’s hoof is a hot spike, driven right down between her shoulder blades.

“Knew it!”

Applejack hears the older mare’s voice from behind. She can actually hear Cherry Jubilee’s satisfied smile.

“I...ah...AH!” Applejack’s whole body quivers, her eyes widening. The pain slaps her in the face, piercing her muscles.

She feels another hoof press down, flattening the pain out a little. And then...

Oh good GLORY
Cherry Jubilee slides her hooves up and down, kneading the flesh of her back.

“OHHHHHHhhhhhhh...” Applejack moans out loud. She had no idea how tight and rigid her back had felt until it was gone, melting away under the hooves of the older mare. She was made of stone, now molding back into a pony again.

“I thought so,” Cherry Jubilee’s voice smiles at her.

“Golly...” Applejack gasps quietly, her mouth hanging open a little. It’s glorious— absolutely, completely glorious. Fine as an apple from the branch.

“I know you think yer a strong mare,” Cherry Jubilee interrupts herself with a wry chuckle, “And you are. But even you need a tender touch now and then.”

“Mmmm,” Applejack manages to say. She isn’t listening. Her eyelids slip down to half-mast. Those hooves keep kneading and pushing, working life back into the battered muscles.

This is...just...oh...wow.
She can’t remember the last time she let somepony have this kind of free reign.

Shoot, if those Spa Sisters were this good, I’d be there with Rarity every week.
She lets a long, deep breath out. Her chin comes to rest on the couch. One arm hangs lazily over the side, grazing the cool wood of the floor.

GOLLY.
Cherry Jubilee bears down with her hooves, smoothing the pain out from deep in Applejack’s fibers. Applejack jumps a little at the wonderful strain, and a weird, almost high-pitched noise comes from somewhere.

Cherry Jubilee lets out another dry chuckle.

What’s she laughin’ at? Why’d she moan like that?
It was you, idiot.

What?!
A bit of outrage wells up in her mind, but it has nowhere to go, no outlet to hook up with. It flares briefly and puffs out, escaping her with a long, low sigh. She can feel Cherry’s hooves alternating now, rubbing up and down along her shoulders in opposite directions.

“Is that feeling any better?” Cherry Jubilee asks.

Applejack nods silently, letting her eyes drift shut.
Cherry Jubilee leans in closer and Applejack barely notices save for the cool, smooth fabric of the other mare’s bathrobe against her coat. She feels hooves slide up and away from the pain, running along her withers and dancing at the bottom of her neck.

“Oh, sugar...when was the last time you took a vacation?” Cherry Jubilee says.

Applejack doesn’t even respond. Her breath slows down to dozy puffs as her over-tight muscles unwind and let go.

Vacation? What’s that?
The ghost of a chuckle slips out from her lips.

“I suppose you ain’t in the habit of slackin’ off like this, anyhow,” Cherry goes on. “No sir, no fancy massages or frilly hot baths for our mare Applejack.”

No sir. None of that frou-frou nonsense.
Applejack’s eyebrows narrow a little along with her smug smile.

“But...” Cherry Jubilee slides her hooves back to where the pain had been and pushes down, hard.

“Guhhhhh...” Applejack gasps out loud, winding it down into a low moan.

“It ain’t all that bad now, is it?”

Naw, you know what? It ain’t. Pretty fine, after all.

Jubilee does something with her hooves, rubbing and pressing. Applejack’s gasp catches in her throat. She can’t even tell what’s going on anymore.

It feels so darn good.

“Sometimes you gotta just let yer mane down and be pampered,” Cherry Jubilee says, leaning closer to Applejack’s ears.

Amen, sister.
Applejack lets her face go slack, not caring at all that it stopped hurting minutes ago. Seconds? Hours?

Shoot, one of my friends saw this, I’d never hear the end of it.
They ain’t here.

They’d all have that smile, like they knew all along.
They aren’t here.

They aren’t—huh.
...Huh.

“And that’s just what I’m gonna do,” Cherry Jubilee leans closer. Applejack can feel the mare’s breath tickling in her ears. It sends funny tickles down into her chest as well, and she busts out a weak smile.

You know what...this feels good!
I like this!

This feels good, darn it! It don’t hurt no more, AND it feels good to boot!
Cherry Jubilee lies on top of Applejack, a silky weight sliding up her tired back. She rests her forelegs over Applejack’s shoulders and grazes her muzzle up Applejack’s neck and mane, summitting up by her ears.

Hee hee...that tickles.
This ain’t so bad. This ain’t bad at all.

Nope. Dee-lightful.
It’s all good. Everything’s good. Everything’s gonna be okay.

“Especially for a lovely young mare...” Cherry Jubilee whispers into her ear.

Jeez, she is layin’ it on thick, ain’t she?
Land’s sakes girl, can you just swallow it and let somepony be nice to you? Fer once?

“...Such as yerself.”

Something wet and hot and tongue trails against the edge of her ear, and Applejack starts to cringe in delight.

Whoa whoa whoa WHOA WHOA
Her eyes shoot open wide. She feels a rush in her veins, every nerve on end. She jumps up and off the couch, sending Cherry Jubilee thudding onto her rump.

“What was that?!” Applejack gasps out, her heart thudding in her chest.

Cherry Jubilee stares back at her, her face nothing but blank shock. A long moment stretches out, the only sound Applejack’s surprised panting. Cherry Jubilee looks away and pulls the front of her bathrobe tightly closed.

What in the...what...what?!
Applejack stands in place, frozen despite all the buzzers going off in her head. Cherry Jubilee narrows her eyes—she looks almost angry. She turns to Applejack and opens her mouth to speak, but backs it up for another try.

“Uh...” Applejack manages to put out.

“Sorry,” Jubilee says, still not meeting her eyes. “I...”

“Mighty tired I think I’ll be goin’ up to bed now thankyouferthedrink g’night!”

Applejack trots her way right out of the room, keeping pace with the pounding in her chest. She doesn’t look back even once.

What was she...did she...did I?
Why me? Why always me?

Get out get out get out
She can’t run. She wants to run. She feels eyes on her, things chasing her, running only makes them chase faster. Awkward monsters. She keeps an even pace, just fast enough.

Just a little farther...
She crosses through the doorway and unwinds immediately. Cherry Jubilee is out of sight, in another room. Not that she looked back. She slows down just a bit.

There.
She halts mid-step, feeling a strange breeze against the top of her head.

Oh, for pony’s sake!
She starts to cringe but steels herself up. It takes a serious showing of will to keep from just going right on upstairs.

Go back for it in the morning?
Nuh-uh. No way.

Leave no pony behind.
And this particular soldier? Packs of Diamond Dogs wouldn’t stop Applejack. Flocks of dragons wouldn’t stop Applejack. She would risk life and limb for this old lump of stitched-up leather.

Think I’d rather chew an arm off than go back in there.
She turns around anyway and walks, slowly, like a scolded foal, back into the room. She pauses just inside the door.

“Ahem...uh...” she says, barely lifting her eyes from the floor.

“Hat?” she hears Cherry Jubilee say.

Applejack says yes by way of a gruff clearing of her throat. Cherry Jubilee says nothing, but curtly slides the hat towards her along the top of the couch.

Applejack quickly grabs it, averting her eyes from the mare-shaped blind spot sitting in front of her. She rushes out of the room and upstairs.

Tired. Sleepy. Very tired.
Yes indeed. Bed time.

Yup, sleep. Sleep is all that is on my mind.
Wide awake, she makes her way up to her room to settle in for a long, restless night.