For Want Of A Nail: A Christmas One-Shot
Winter!
Little miracles floated down from pegasi-generated snow clouds, coating all of Equestria in layer after layer of pure white. Everypony in Ponyville was celebrating in their own way, some rolling up tiny spheres to lob at their friends across the street, some rushing around trying to coerce a single snowflake to land on their outstretched tongue. The ponies who considered themselves more “refined” were making idle chatter near one of many flaming barrels, while the sneakier ones were attempting to master the art of writing one’s name in the snow.
Aside from the various participatory activities one could partake in, each pony or each group of ponies had their own special tradition. Miss Cheerilee’s, to the delight of each and every schoolfilly, was to cancel her afternoon classes.
Only cancelling her afternoon classes! She might as well have cancelled all of them for all Applebloom had been paying attention. Every breath, every pause Miss Cheerilee took, that was yet another excuse to sneak a glance towards the window. And Every time Applebloom looked out the window, Miss Cheerilee would invariably remind her exactly where she should be looking. “I understand that you’re excited, Applebloom,” she would say. “We all are. But we still need to finish covering this topic.”
After one too many of these interruptions, Cheerilee closed the curtains, and Applebloom resigned herself to simply looking at the clock, which, as usual, went slower whenever somepony was looking at it. Eventually though, the school bell rang, and everypony who was anypony sprinted out into the magical world of winter.
“What do you gals want to do first?” Applebloom asked as soon as she had found her fellow cutie mark crusaders.
She was met with apologetic looks. “Sorry, Applebloom,” said Scootaloo. “Rainbow Dash offered to show me how to deal with harsh weather conditions. She said if I’m going to fly, I should probably know these things.”
“I have to pack,” said Sweetie Belle. “Rarity and I are leaving to visit my parents over the weekend. I’ll try to be quick about it, but knowing Rarity, she’ll probably want to take everything but the kitchen sink, and she’ll make me help.”
Another series of apologies were handed out, followed by the customary it’s okays and I understands from Applebloom.
The trio parted.
***
“Applejack, do you want to build a snowmare?”
“That depends, sugarcube,” replied Applejack. “Do you want to help insulate the barn so the cows stay warm through the winter?”
Hearing Applebloom’s no, she continued, “Do you want to help set up the storm windows? Rainbow Dash says they’re planning a full-on blizzard tomorrow.
“Do you want to move our stores to the basement?
“Do you want to -”
“No!” Applebloom screamed. “I don’t want to do any of those things! I just want to build a snowmare!”
“Look Applebloom,” said Applejack, her tone getting louder to compete with her sister’s, “Maintaining Sweet Apple Acres is Number Two. You are my Number One. You will always be my Number One. And if you want to stay my Number One, you don’t mess with Number Two.”
Her hoof passed through the snow with a light crunch before hitting the ground with a thud. “As soon as I finish my farm work, I will participate in whatever winter activity you’ve got planned for me. Until then, well, you’re going to have to find somepony else to play with.
The snow continued falling.
A light breeze picked up, knocking some of the snow on a nearby tree to the ground.
Silence.
“Mom would have build a snowmare with me. Dad would have built a snowmare with me.”
It may have been the wind carrying a rampant Ponyville sound, it may have a roar from Fluttershy’s cottage. Whatever it was, or the next few moments, the only sound that could be heard was “doom.”
The oxymoronic nature of the sound made it difficult to describe. The sound was soft, distinct, clarion like the blast of a trumpet, yet indistinct like a single voice drowned out by a crowd.
“Applebloom,” said Applejack, “I think you need to go.”
***
What could be said about Golden Oaks Library that couldn't be by saying its name aloud? The interior fit the name like a dust jacket on a book. It had the gold-colored shelves made of oak as well as the books placed in said shelves in a manner that Applebloom didn’t quite understand. The only thing missing was its librarian, who Spike had offhandedly mentioned was directing Canterlot’s Hearth’s Warming Eve Pageant this year.
“I think you’re overreacting,” said Spike. “You obviously touched a nerve, and she reacted accordingly.”
“No! She hates me!”
Spike sighed and walked over to the little filly. “Applebloom, do you remember that time when Applejack was shrunk by poison joke? And while she tried to be the same pony she has always been, her size at the time made her difficult to take seriously?”
Applebloom nodded, focused more on scanning the bookshelves than on Spike.
“How frustrated do you think she was then?”
“I guess she’d’ve been pretty frustrated,” echoed Applebloom.
“See? Applejack’s life revolves around normality. A lack of change. The problem is, you’re a changing pony. One of these days, you’re going to - Hey!”
Applebloom had moved out of Spike’s lean, and now was trying to grab an out-of-reach book.
“Um, Applebloom? I don’t think you can read this book.”
“I can read, Spike.”
Spike wedged his way between Applebloom and the shelves. “I mean, I don’t think you’re allowed to read it. That’s the book with The Mirror Pool information in it. Twilight explicitly said ‘Nopony is allowed to read this book.’”
Applebloom stopped trying to paw the book, trying to take this new information in. “You’re not a pony, Spike,” she said. “Could you read it?”
Spike hesitated. “Maybe. I’m not quite sure of the rules on that sort of thing.”
Applebloom put on her best imitation of Winona begging for a treat. “C’mon, Spike. Just read it aloud to me. I’m a big filly. I can handle the scary bits.”
There was a brief pause in the conversation while Spike pondered his possible actions and their consequences. Taking another look at Applebloom, he said, “I think you’re trying to manipulate me.”
Applebloom only continued to stare.
Spike sighed. “Fine. I’ll read one chapter. I just want it on the record that I’m doing so under protest.”
“Can you read the one about Forgotten Lake? I heard about that one from Granny.”
Spike flipped through the pages. “For those to whom life is meaningless,” he began, then paused.
“Applebloom! I thought we established Applejack doesn’t hate you!”
***
The Everfree Forest used to be scary.
Sure, there was the occasional manticore you had to look out for, the carnivorous pony-traps generally acted in swarms that made them impossible to deal with, and the cragadiles were the length of ten ponies end-to-end, but if one knew what to look out for, these could be easily avoided. “A better word for it,” thought Applebloom, remembering one of Ms. Cheerilee’s vocabulary lessons, “would be uncanny.”
Fittingly, the path to Forgotten Lake barely existed, in that it had been little more than a slightly less overgrown line by the time Applebloom had reached it. Still, she soldiered on, pushing her way through the undergrowth and ducking under the various vines and branches.
The hole, the gateway to Forgotten Lake, was equally covered up, a fact that Applebloom discovered firsthoof.
Standing back up, Applebloom allowed herself a brief look around the cavern she was now in.
Unlike most of Equestria, which covered itself in the warm inviting colors that are pinks, lavenders, oranges, etc. Forgotten Lake’s surrounding area contained primarily various shades of grey. Despite this, each jutting edge seemed to feature dozens upon dozens of the color’s various shades. Combined, the room was as varied in color as Canterlot’s throne room.
The one object that held the entire cavern together was Forgotten “Lake” itself. The size of a small pond, it appeared to be the source of light that gave the rest of the room its appearance. And what light! It almost reminded Applebloom of Rainbow Dash’s coat with its light aquatic undertones that gave the lake the appearance of want. As if it wanted you to enter it.
Applebloom strode to the bank of the water and looked down, expecting to see her reflection.
Nothing.
Countless thoughts ran through Applebloom’s mind, remembering each and every time Applejack had wronged or ignored her. “There was that one time where she made us do that obstacle course... And that time she ignored me when Twi’ stayed for brunch a couple years back…”
Soon, even entirely benign memories started being contorted to fit Applebloom’s current worldview. “She didn’t give me a chance to compete in last year’s Sisterhooves Social… She took Big Mac and I to Carousel Boutique so she could make dresses…”
With every thought, Spike’s counseling grew less and less attractive. Of course her sister would snap at her like she had. She had been silently hating Applebloom ever since Applebloom was born, taking every opportunity to spite her. And there was only one way to remedy that problem.
After taking one last moment to reflect, Applebloom jumped in the water.
***
When Applebloom’s head rose back out of the water, the entire cavern had changed in size and shape. Gone were the various greys. Instead, the cave was filled with the blacks and dark browns of dead plant matter.
The growth covering the entrance was gone, allowing moonlight to stream in. Looking up at the entrance, Applebloom was able to see the source of that light, mareless as it had been for over a year.
Seeing no reason to stay, Applebloom trotted up towards the cavern opening, and began the trek home.
***
Not being born gave Applebloom the feeling of being liberated. Gone were the expectations placed upon her by everypony else. She was no longer related to The Apple Family, no longer tied to Sweet Apple Acres. Ponyville’s marketplace actually felt like a place to hang out rather than a place to sell the family's wares.
“Excuse me, miss. Could you spare a match for a poor filly?”
The voice had come from behind Applebloom, a soft voice generally attributed to that of a singer. It was Sweetie Belle.
But it was not the Sweetie Belle that Applebloom knew. Instead of the cheerfully naive pony that was Applebloom’s friend and fellow crusader, this Sweetie Belle was a dilapidated wreck of a pony. Skin and bones, this version of Sweetie Belle had knees wider than her legs, though no less shaky. What once was a coat of pure white was now a dirty brown in some places and entirely missing in other. The same had happened to her mane and tail, which were encrusted with some unknown goop.
“I don’t generally carry matches with me,” said Applebloom. “What do you need matches for? Some kind of firestartin’ cutie mark?”
“Oh, but you’ve got to have a match or two on you,” said Sweetie Belle, ignoring Applebloom’s questions. “You’re clearly well-fed. How else would you pay for your meals? How else would you light your cooking fire?”
With that, Sweetie Bell attacked Applebloom, searching every hair in her mane and tail for the requested materials. After Applebloom’s “What are you doing?” and “Sweetie Belle, stop!” fell on deaf ears, Applebloom bucked the shell of her friend off and sprinted away.
***
The Golden Oak was dead. Any leaves still attached to the giant tree were brown, curled up, and dry. Many of its branches had grown brittle and been blown away by the wind. Even so, life, or at least light, still appeared to exist within the walls of the library.
Applebloom burst through the door, shouting, “Twilight! Spike! Anypo-”
“Shh!” In the corner of the library was a librarian, though it was nopony Applebloom had seen before. Grey in mane, tail, and everything in between, the librarian seemed to display every negative trait often associated with the occupation.
The librarian lowered her hoof. “If you’re looking for a specific book, I can help you check it out. Otherwise, I must ask you to be quiet as a courtesy to others.”
“What’s going on? Where’s Twilight?” said Applebloom, lowering her voice.
“The emissary from Canterlot? When Nightmare Moon returned, she, five other ponies, and the emissary’s dragon went off to Celestia’s old castle. I’m her faithful substitute until she returns.”
Applebloom processed this information, the horror slowly dawning. “H-how long was that?”
The librarian cocked her head sideways. “About eighteen months, I suppose. Where have you been?”
***
If Applebloom ignored everything else that had happened that night, she could almost imagine that Sweet Apple Acres was still Sweet Apple Acres. The snow was still there, the apple trees still hibernated in their orchard, and, perhaps most importantly, The Cutie Mark Crusader Clubhouse was still there.
Stepping onto the first stair elicited a loud creak from the snow-covered wood, but it held steady. The second step was not as lucky, creating a snap that echoed across the farm.
The wind was picking up, sending light dustings of snow to the ground.
"What do you think you're doing?"
It was Applejack, as subtly angry as Applebloom had left her. “You’re trespassing on private property,” she said.
“Applejack! What are you doing here? Where’s Twilight and Rarity and the others?”
The wind was blowing faster now, whipping up the equivalent of a blizzard.
“Twilight?” Applejack spat. “We had a difference of opinions. She didn’t join us for brunch, which was strike one. Then, well, she just acted all full of herself. That was strike two. Finally, when she was over a cliff, hanging on to me for dear life, she didn’t seem to trust my judgement. That was strike three.
“I told her I had my farm to worry about, and I left.”
The wind had now created a maelstrom of white, swirling around the pair. Branches flew everywhere, creating a chain reaction as each branch collided with at least two others, sending them into the ever-rotating cloud of white. Neither pony noticed.
“But what about that bonding that you all did while you were searching for The Elements?” asked Applebloom.
“Bonding?” screamed Applejack over the wind. “If there was any bonding in The Everfree Forest, I wasn’t a part of it!”
The next thing Applebloom knew, her head had breached the water of Forgotten Lake.
***
Climbing out, she began to push and test every inch of herself, not believing her circumstances. The greys were back. Forgotten Lake was once again its own source of light. The sun shone through the small breach where Applebloom had fallen through, matching the greys with its pale yellow.
It was brighter than was normally expected from The Everfree Forest. Vines seemed to jump out of the way as Applebloom sprinted back home.
“Applejack!” She leapt and latched on to her older sister.
“I was looking for you, sugarcube,” said Applejack. “I wanted to apologize for how I acted. You’re my Number One. You will always be my Number One. I guess that sometimes I forget that.”
“I wanted to apologize too,” said Applebloom. “I thought that you hated me, and I acted like you never wanted to see me again.”
The two took a brief moment to just smile at each other.
“Come on, Applebloom. Let’s go build a snowmare.”