Lets Talkby odeeyouChaptershappy with what never waswanderlustMr Smarty PantsHidden TalentsNot stong enoughhappy with what never wasNot too many ponies were awake at two in the morning, but he rather preferred it that way. Silence and solitude had become a very large part of his life over the years. Only speaking when there was something to be said. He wondered sometimes if he even remembered how to be social anymore. He wondered if he even wanted to. By no means was he a shut in or a recluse, he just placed his responsibilities above everything else in his life. Like he thought his father would have wanted; but it never stopped that soft and melodious whisper in the back of his mind. The one that said ‘maybe’ and ‘some day’ and ‘what if…’ With a soft sigh, he picked up the fiddle at his feet and drew the bow across the strings. Closing his eyes, he painted a mental picture… and let the music flow. If you were to try and describe it in words, it might sound sad; heart clenching; encompassing and mournful. Those words could never do justice though. Words can never accurately describe music that moves the soul. When he was done, he looked up at the night sky. At least an hour had passed. He sighed and stood up. He’d best get a few hours of sleep before the day. He startled when he saw a figure sitting in front of him. Applejack sat and looked at him like she were about to bawl her eyes out, and he winced slightly. Heart Songs weren’t only sung and sometimes depending on the song did more than touch the ears. Before he could blink AJ wrapped him in a hug before composing herself and sitting next to him. AJ looked up at her brother with something in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place. “Ah aint hurd you play since ‘fore Maw and Paw left us.” She spoke softly. “Nnope.” They sat like that in silence for a few minutes. He didn’t want to do this right now, but he supposed that the conversation had been a long time coming. “How come?” She continued to look up at him and he could already tell from her expression that she wouldn’t leave this alone. He snorted a soft chuckle and ruffled her hair under her hat. The same hat Paw had once placed on his head. The same one he’d placed on her head. The same one she would place on Applebloom’s head if she wanted it. Filly was darn right partial to that bow. “I suppose… ah aint got much time anymore. Just keep practice. But I always play fer their anniversary.” He pointed his bow to the far corner of the orchard, where a several stone slabs stood underneath a wild crab. They sat there looking at their parents for a moment before AJ looked at him again. While he was in no way dishonest she could tell there was more to it than that. He chuckled again and gave her a melancholy smile. “You remember when you were little an Applebloom was just born? ‘Fore I got my cutie mark?” She nodded her head. “Don’t know how well you r’member. I learned the fiddle at Maw’s feet. All I wanted was the play that fiddle. Wanted to join a band. Play fer ponies. Shin digs an weddings… an funerals…” He closed his eyes and he could still see his Maw smiling at him encouragingly. “I was set on makin that my cutie mark. Paw would laugh but Maw would just smile and say if I wanted it bad enough, to chase it and grab it with all four hooves if that’s what it took.” AJ gave a sniff and a few tears escaped as both remembered those simpler and innocent days of their youth. “After the accident… I knew I had to take respon… respons… gosh durn it… I had to take charge!” He finished forcefully in annoyance. AJ guffawed at his lapse in words and he gave her a mock glare. After a moment to compose himself he continued. He looked down at her and spoke. “Mah dream wasn’t as important as mah family. So I took charge of running the farm. Started teachin you everything Paw taught me.” His eyes hardened. “But it wasn’t enough.” He reached a hoof around her to give her a side hug. “I didn’t want mah sisters or Granny to want fer nothing. I had to be the best, like Paw would’a wanted. Ah MADE it my special talent. This farm.” Now he looked down at his fiddle and gave another sigh. “But I always feel like I let Maw down. Not chasin’ mah dream like she always said to.” AJ’s shoulders began to shake as she silently began to sob. “Im sorry…” She started and wiped her nose with a hoof. “I didn’t know. I should’a tried-“ “Hey now!” He gave her a small shake. “None of that frum you. It was mah choice. Ah made it and Ah don’t regret nun of it. Not even a second.” “Ah…” AJ started and paused to control her sob, but still had tears in her eyes as she looked up at her brother. “Ah could start takin more charge of the farm-“ “No.” He interrupted her forcefully and forsaking his usual negative response. “That’d take away all yer free time with yer friends.” That and he didn’t want anyone in his family to have to make the difficult decision he’d already made. “Sides. Yer the element ‘o’ honesty. Who’d save Equestria… again… if you were too busy workin the farm?” They both gave a small chuckle at that and fell back into a brief silence. “But what ‘bout you? How’dya do it? Run the farm an still got time fer friends?” He snorted in a sad sort of ironic amusement. “An how often do ya see me socializin when I aint workin?” She seemed to deflate in front of him and he winced internally. He reckoned his sister never really understood till now what all he’d given up for his family. Now he wished he’d never said nothin’. “Surely some time ya might-“ He shook his head and cut her off again. “Nnope.” He looked out over the orchard towards the house. “Grannysmith’ll be gone soon.” A painful truth they both knew all too well. “Someday you’ll meet some Stallion. No guar-an-tee he’ll want ta work the farm. Shoot, ya might want ta start yer own homestead someday.” He gave her a playful nudge when she blushed. “And ah don’t think Applebloom wants to farm apples all er life.” AJ was starting to look desperate. “What ‘bout the rest of the family? Couldn’t one ‘o’ them…” He shook his head, this time wondering if his sister would ever accept that this was his decision and that he was far from unhappy with it. “They got their own lives ta live, AJ. Their own dreams to chase.” He stood up and carefully put the fiddle back in its case. “Wouldn’t be right ta ask another ta give up their dream fer mine.” Because sometimes, that’s all they ever were. A dream. “There’s gotta be something ah can do…” AJ’s demeanor became stubborn. That stubbornness in her eyes was all Paw’s right there. He stopped to look his sister carefully in the eyes… and then ruffled her hair under her hat since he knew it annoyed her. He gave her a genuine smile. “Ya already do AJ.” He laughed softly as the confused expression on her face as he walked inside the house. She’d figure it out eventually. He might be a lot of things, but first and foremost… He is Big Macintosh and he is an apple farmer. wanderlustBig Mac released a breath he felt like he’d been holding for most of his life. He was tired. Nopony knew just how tired he really was. He knew that this wasn’t what life had set out for him. No. This was the life he’d set for himself. He wouldn’t trade what he had now for anything in the world. No would he ever wish for anything to be different for fear that it might come true. Sometimes though, he wondered what might have been. What might have been if his parents hadn’t died in that accident so long ago now? He could guess though. Oh lordy he could guess. Few ponies remembered all the trouble he’d gotten into a colt. Fewer still remembered the wanderlust that ran deep in his veins. It was a wanderlust that he’d inherited, his father had told him. Toughened muscles of over two decades of hard work gave no signs of weakness as he climbed the tallest tree in the orchard. His usual calm expression lit up slightly as he looked to the midnight horizon lit up in moonlight. He could feel it calling to him. He fought back the painful memories of his parents death until he reached the more pleasant ones were they still lived and would continue to do so. His father was a farm pony. He was a hard worker and neither he nor anypony else could ever remember him wanting for more than he needed. That is until a chestnut mare with gold hair walked into town. Barely aware of the town around her, he joked as she marched through with full saddlebags, camping gear, a sword across her back, a compass around her neck and a map in her hoof. According to his father, she appeared to be headed straight toward the Everfree Forest and looked to be cutting through the orchard in whatever direction she was headed. In fact she was so busy looking at her compass that she didn’t even see him until she near walked into him. He said she was the prettiest pony he’d ever laid eyes on and was so flummoxed that he’d said the first thing that came to thought. “Will ya go out wi’ me?” He said he must have blushed crimson at having said that to a mare he hadn’t even been properly introduced to. She looked surprised and confused for a few moments, looking back and forth from him to the compass. After a minute of awkward staring she looked at him with a small laugh and a smile that lit up a fire in his soul before speaking a word that would forever sweeten his life more than any apple could hope to. She said “Yes.” His father always had been a hopeless romantic. He said his mother never told him what it was about him that made her say yes. Times that he’d ask she would just give a little mysterious smile and laugh. His mother was an adventurer and according to her, it ran in the blood. Oh, the stories she would tell him… and the pretend adventures he would have reenacting them got him in so much trouble… “Some day.” She would tell him. She had even begun teaching him the basics of her sword art. Then suddenly, like a flame extinguished… they were gone. Adventures were over. He’d gotten his cutie mark that day. Applebloom had only just been born and Granny would be too busy taking care of the foal to help around the farm. She was too old to be bucking apples anyway. Applejack was still just a little thing herself and just starting school. It would be two years before she left to Manehatten to find her cutie mark. That left him to take care of the family. His desires and wanderlust were nothing to his family and he’d made sure they never wanted for anything just like his father had before him. And so, time passes on. Granny had passed on a few years ago peacefully while napping in her rocker. Applebloom got her cutie mark and finished schooling. Applejack was engaged to a smart young stallion and was running the farm well enough on her own now with the help of her stallion friend and Applebloom. Yet neither of them had ever shown the wanderlust he’d had. Applebloom came closest in her youth what with crusading with her friends but she had eventually grown out of it. When they were younger, he had told them the stories mother had told him in his youth but they just laughed and shook their heads. And he… well… As he came back to his wits, he looked out at the horizon again and realized he’d been up there all night. The first rays of light were just beginning to creep over the hills. Climbing down the tree he made his way to the far corner of the property where a collection of cut stones stood from the earth. He paused but a moment before continuing to a small shack in the corner that held tools to keep the small plot clean. Amidst the tools hung a sword. Brass handle and griffin steel and completely unembellished. “No sense in making something fancy that was made for something dirty.” His mother had told him once. Next to the sword was a specially made adjustable foreleg bracer with a chain that attached from the bracer to the sword hilt. Both were enchanted by a unicorn smithy up in Canterlot. He’d saved up twelve years of his wages to pay for them. With methodical precision he began to fit on the bracer, attach the chain, strap on the saddle bags and secure the sword over his back. Precision that came from years of practice in the Everfree. He hesitated for a second as he reached up to the yoke around his neck. The yoke had been around his neck for most of his life now… He pulled it off and hung it on one of the hooks, releasing a sigh as he did so. He’d been afraid he wouldn’t be able to let go. Just as he was about to step out he saw something else hanging on a hook that he never paid much mind to before now. His Grandpa’s old battered fedora. With an amused huff, he pulled it from the hook and squared it on his head before stepping out of the shack and into the sunrise. From the saddlebag he pulled an old compass. Broken some would say, but his mother had told him that the compass knew where to take you. The needle that had long pointed to the farm… turned suddenly to the south. Turning to face the needle’s direction, he gave the farm a last glance and smiled before stepping out into his own adventure. “Eeyup.” It was time. Mr Smarty PantsAuthor's Note I've actually written up several more one shots for this story, but its hard to find the time to type them up when there is only one computer and its usually already in use by your significant other... Mr Smarty Pants It was early morning enough that if anypony came looking around they would probably be looking for Applejack or Applebloom. Any deliveries made would go straight to the house and Grannysmith. Given the number of fields they had it was easy for him to disappear and ponies would just assume he was working in one of them. Not completely untrue. It just depended on what your definition of work was. With a grunt of satisfaction, Big Macintosh turned around and made for the farthest field in the east side property. Unaware of the purple alicorn pony that just entered the gate, whom having not spied any other ponies, followed him. Twilight followed leisurely as she figured Big Mac was either headed toward whatever part of the orchard Applejack was working in, or he could tell her where she was. At a seemingly random tree, he stopped and carefully kicked one of the roots. Not even hard enough to shake the leafs from the trees. A sod covered trap door rose from the earth and he quickly stepped down a flight of stairs into the darkness, lit by oil lamps that he lit as he passed. The door normally closed itself but not before she had halted it with her magic. Curiosity piqued, she looked down the stairwell and wondered if she should follow him and see what this was. Perhaps it’s some secret of the Apple family? Certainly it was not a distillery. Closed spaces were downright dangerous at the pressure those things operated at. Indistinct murmurings flowed up the stairs to her ears. Now her curiosity was DEFINITELY piqued. Big Mac was talking? Outside of a song and dance number that didn’t happen very often. Maybe AJ was down there? Stepping softly, she crept down the stairs and peeked around the corner into the room… A dropped jaw of amazement caused her to step fully into the room. It was MASSIVE. The room must have covered the whole east orchard and was supported by concrete walls, ceilings and pillars. On one wall stood dozens of six foot crystal spires and on the other side of the room were large vats of some shifting luminescent liquids vaguely reminiscent of lava lamps, only she could feel the magic rolling off it. Next to it a liquid rainbow churn (that she knew required a license to even own) turned itself silently. Cost of the substance itself was cheap, but the cost of maintenance to keep the machine running smoothly was expensive. At the far end of the room stood several machines she couldn’t even identify save a few. Most of them were found only in universities or research laboratories. It made her own basement lab look like she were little more than a dabbler. In the center of the room on the dirt floor was an enormous six layered polygonal magical rune array. It was active, and glowing a pure white that filled the room. Covering it were script of at least five dead languages including Old Equish, Griffindore, and Minotaurian. At its center a crystal pillar that stood from the earth to the ceiling.She was still learning how to do triangle runes! Big Mac stood to the side, moving across three chalkboards and writing mathematical formulas that made her eyes spin just trying to read. Next to them were a couple chaotic looking charts that, though she didn’t know what they represented, knew were monitoring the progress of whatever experiment was going on. “What it that?” “That’s the Lyapunov Fractal.” He answered absentmindedly. Having somehow lost his accent and not looking away from the equation he was writing. “It’s showing the regions of stability and chaotic behavior in the trees depending how much earth magic is pushed into the ground.” “And that?” “That’s the Dragon Curve.” He finished an equation and began another on the next chalkboard. “It’s interesting how it shows a self-similar fractal from the pegasus magic given from the water, isn’t it?” Satisfied with the equation on the second chalkboard, he moved to the third one, drawing a large curvature and mathematical formula in Minotaurian math, known for its whole numbering system of eight rather than Equestria’s four. “It will be interesting to see what undirected unicorn magic will do in comparison. Given what we know of unicorn magic is that it shortcuts the quantum mechanical curve that, when undirected, could classify as chaos magic. It undermines our basic understanding of the universe to this day. Against all rational thought, ‘out of order chaos is born.’ “But unicorns bring order to magic!” He snorted and finished the equation with a sharp tap. “Perceived order you mean.” He stood back and looked over the equations with narrowed eyes looking for errors. “As is evident by before the age of Discord and long before Ponies began to tame the wild magic of the lands. The world got by just as fine then as it does now. Less orderly but no less structured.” He dragged five crystal spires and set them up around the magical array. Slipping on a pair of gold shoes to act as a focus, he stomped on the ground sending a charge of earth pony magic into the array, surging into the crystal spires and rebounding back into the center crystal pillar where it shot upwards to the orchard. “Tell that to the universities though.” He grunted in annoyance. “Bunch of old farts clinging to an outdated system.” “I WANNA HAVE YOUR FOALS!” Big Macintosh blinked and looked down at the purple Princess that was now wrapped around his forelegs. “Wha-?” “Please! Please! Please!” “Twa-light?” His accent came back in full force. “When-dja even get here?” “I followed you don’t here while you were lost in thought and explained what you were working on absent minded when I asked. Please let me have your foals! Think about it! With your intellect and my magical talent, they could discover the mysteries of the universe!” Big Mac tried to shake her off from his legs. “Let go!” Hidden TalentsIt was late morning and chores were done. Applejack was off saving the world again no doubt. Applebloom was off somewhere with her friends getting into mischief and Granny was napping back at the house, not that it matters since she could sleep through anything that wasn’t the howl of a timberwolf. It was a perfect time for his hobby. Big Mac liked to sing. More specifically he liked to sing opera. (It was his biggest and greatest secret.) He’d once heard the music flowing from the Ponyville Performing Arts Studio when he was a young colt and he’d been hooked to it ever since. So he pulled Granny’s old Gramophone out of the attic and made a few special orders using an alias of his… “Are you the one they call… Large Apple?” Big Mac jerked to attention and looked around to see Ditzy Do standing in the orchard with a package held under her wing. He leapt behind a tree, only to step out a moment later wearing a dark hooded cloak. “Eeyup… I mean- yes.” The corners of Ditzy’s mouth twitched upwards for a moment before her face settled back into a resolved expression. Sometimes he wondered if she was onto him… Nah. With a couple of cautious glances around him, he stepped forward and accepted the package labeled in large bold lettering, GRAMOPHONE RECORDS INC. Transaction complete, they both gave respectful nods to each other. Large Apple carefully tucked the package into his robe and tippy hooved back behind the tree stealthily. He ignored the loud guffaws behind him. No doubt Ditzy just remembered a joke or something. Big Mac stepped out from behind the tree with a small record carefully held in his mouth and ran quickly to the barn. An old large toolbox sat just outside the doors labeled ‘Big Mac’s stuff’ next to a sign he’d written to remind himself. “Don’t tell nopony.” Pulling out the Gramophone, he quickly set the record, gave it a good wind, cleared his throat… and sang. “Nessun Dorma! Nessun Dorma! Tu pure, o, principessa-“ “GOBOLOBOLOBOBLE!” Big Mac spun around to see a wild turkey. It probably wandered into the orchard from the Everfree. Turning his attention back to the music, he leapt back into verse. “Nella tau fredd-“ “GOBOLOBOLOBOBLE!” He turned around and glared at the turkey, only to find two of them now. “Stupid Turkeys.” He mumbled to himself. No turkey was going to stop him from enjoying of his talents. “Che tremano d’amo-“ “GOBOLOBOLOBOBLE!” Dag nabbit! Now there were four of them! Big Mac gave the turkeys a level stare and took a deep breath… Meanwhile, just outside the acre… Rarity, Toe-Tapper and Torch Song walked down the road with near defeated expressions. “We still need a bass.” Toe-Tapper mumbled. “And we’ve walked all across town looking.” Torch Song dipped her head in defeat. “This quartet may end without ever having formed.” “There must be somepony we have yet to talk to.” Rarity marched forward unwilling to yet give up on this. “Wait.” Torch Song stopped and stood still, turning her head and listening for something. “Do you hear that?” Soft music flowed from Apple acres alongside a smooth deep baritone voice… Rarity’s face lit up with a smile of realization Toe-Tapper turned his head to try. “It sounds like…” “GOBOLOBOLOBOBLE!” A horrifying country accented rendition of a turkey gobble filled the air and a dozen turkeys were seen flying out of the orchard like their tails were on fire. “Aaggh!” The three ponies collided with one another in fright, collapsing in a tangled mess in the road. “That’s it” Rarity exclaimed and ran toward where the music had suddenly stopped. Torch Song ran forward to catch up with Rarity. “You know who that singing was?” “I do.” Rarity slowed as they approached the gate property. “Just let me do the talking.” They strolled through the trees until they approached a barn where Big Mac was quickly tossing a gramophone into a toolbox. Toe Tapper caught up to the other two of his party and spied Big Mac, quickly putting three and one together. “Good stallion! That music!” He praised the uncomfortable looking stallion and missing the shushing motions from the other two. “That-“ “TURKEY WARBLE!” Rarity interrupted. Applejack had told her how embarrassed Big Mac was about his supposed secret talent. While she was an incurable gossip, she would never be so rude as to gossip about a pony right in front of them. “Yes! That turkey warble is just what we need for out quartet.” She shot a ‘look’ at the other two ponies with her. And that’s the story of how Big Mac attended the Turkey Call Competition. Not stong enoughBig Mac sighed and leaned back in a chair in the living room. Applejack was running the stand, Applebloom was off crusading and Grannysmith decided to go to the market today leaving him to a silent house on a Sunday afternoon. Quiet days like this didn’t come too often, and when they did he tried to enjoy them. He always failed though. Without the noise and work to keep him occupied, the silence would send his thoughts wandering directions he wasn’t always prepared to go. A small flash of silver caught his eye as the sun reflected off a silver filigree box on the mantle. With another sigh, he got up and retrieved it, sitting it on a little stand next to the chair as he collapsed back into his seat. There was a little turnkey that he cranked before opening the box. It was a little music box that played a simple tune called ‘Canterlot.’ It was from some popular musical he was once told. It was his mothers. It was one of the very few personal possessions of hers. She’d been a lot like him; a pony of very simple needs, which made those few personal possessions all the more precious. It would be Applebloom’s one day, when she was responsible enough not to break it by accident. It was given to his mother on the day of Applebloom’s birth. Applejack’s hat was another of their mother’s possessions. His… had once been a Smarty Pants doll given to him as a Hearth Warming gift when he’d been little. Though it had long since been lost, the one Twilight had used a spell on brought back a lot of fond memories. The farm had been his Mother’s. It was passed down to her by her dad as she had been the only one to stay at the farm after growing up. His father on the other hoof had been a blue collar Canterlot pony who came to Ponyville for vacation. When the two met, they said it was like magic. Even in his youth he’d seen just how crazy his parents had been about one another. After Applebloom was born… Mom got sick. She died a few weeks after giving birth. He and his father had been at her death bed when she passed away. She told his father to take care of the family. She told him to take care of his sisters. But his father… Not every pony could be as strong as his mother had been. His father was a broken shell of a stallion when his mother left. He tried to keep going. He tried to take care of the farm and his children… He failed. He took to trying to drink the pain and memories away. Suddenly he wasn’t his Paw anymore. One of the scariest moments of Big Mac’s childhood was walking into the old barn one morning and finding his father holding a scythe to his neck. He cried until his voice was hoarse. He’d only just lost his mother. He didn’t want to lose his father too. Applejack had never been so angry. Her father had failed them, failed his family and failed his wife’s last request. No matter how bleak life can get, there should always be enough love for your family to keep living. Big Mac knew better. Such tragedy was not unique to Ponyville. Similar stories were told in the news across Equestria. Broken ponies unable to piece their selves back together. Not every pony could be strong as his mother had been. Not every pony could be as strong as Applejack was. A few days later, his father was accepted into the Manehatten Mental and Psychiatric Hospital. His treatment and stay was paid for monthly by bits from Mac’s own wages. Unless a pony were to directly ask, Applejack was content to allow others to come to their own conclusions about their parents, or to just tell them straight out that she wasn’t going to talk about it. Though he’d never say it, Big Mac could never really blame his father. His father would probably never recover. In truth he hadn’t thought of that stallion as his father in years. Even though he continued to pay for his treatment and sent him letters that today were still unanswered. He was just a shell that looked like him now. His father was just a fond memory today. As he was the next oldest, the farm would fall to him when Grannysmith passed away. He wouldn’t risk it though, and went to the bank to put the deed in Applejack’s name. He was afraid he wasn’t strong enough to carry the farm… Not every pony was as strong as Applejack was. The second scariest moment of his life was when he’d almost married Cheerilee. It wasn’t that he couldn’t see himself falling in love. It was his fear that he might have taken more after his father than he did his mother. That if anything bad happened that he wouldn’t be strong enough to be there for others when they needed him. So he began to shy away from Cheerilee… regardless of how happy they’d been after testing the waters from the love poison incident. He worked harder and longer and avoided making close friendships, but not enough that ponies would notice and try to help him. If ever he failed them… failed his family… failed his friends… He wasn’t as strong as the rest of his family. Choking back a sob, he closed the music box.
happy with what never wasNot too many ponies were awake at two in the morning, but he rather preferred it that way. Silence and solitude had become a very large part of his life over the years. Only speaking when there was something to be said. He wondered sometimes if he even remembered how to be social anymore. He wondered if he even wanted to. By no means was he a shut in or a recluse, he just placed his responsibilities above everything else in his life. Like he thought his father would have wanted; but it never stopped that soft and melodious whisper in the back of his mind. The one that said ‘maybe’ and ‘some day’ and ‘what if…’ With a soft sigh, he picked up the fiddle at his feet and drew the bow across the strings. Closing his eyes, he painted a mental picture… and let the music flow. If you were to try and describe it in words, it might sound sad; heart clenching; encompassing and mournful. Those words could never do justice though. Words can never accurately describe music that moves the soul. When he was done, he looked up at the night sky. At least an hour had passed. He sighed and stood up. He’d best get a few hours of sleep before the day. He startled when he saw a figure sitting in front of him. Applejack sat and looked at him like she were about to bawl her eyes out, and he winced slightly. Heart Songs weren’t only sung and sometimes depending on the song did more than touch the ears. Before he could blink AJ wrapped him in a hug before composing herself and sitting next to him. AJ looked up at her brother with something in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place. “Ah aint hurd you play since ‘fore Maw and Paw left us.” She spoke softly. “Nnope.” They sat like that in silence for a few minutes. He didn’t want to do this right now, but he supposed that the conversation had been a long time coming. “How come?” She continued to look up at him and he could already tell from her expression that she wouldn’t leave this alone. He snorted a soft chuckle and ruffled her hair under her hat. The same hat Paw had once placed on his head. The same one he’d placed on her head. The same one she would place on Applebloom’s head if she wanted it. Filly was darn right partial to that bow. “I suppose… ah aint got much time anymore. Just keep practice. But I always play fer their anniversary.” He pointed his bow to the far corner of the orchard, where a several stone slabs stood underneath a wild crab. They sat there looking at their parents for a moment before AJ looked at him again. While he was in no way dishonest she could tell there was more to it than that. He chuckled again and gave her a melancholy smile. “You remember when you were little an Applebloom was just born? ‘Fore I got my cutie mark?” She nodded her head. “Don’t know how well you r’member. I learned the fiddle at Maw’s feet. All I wanted was the play that fiddle. Wanted to join a band. Play fer ponies. Shin digs an weddings… an funerals…” He closed his eyes and he could still see his Maw smiling at him encouragingly. “I was set on makin that my cutie mark. Paw would laugh but Maw would just smile and say if I wanted it bad enough, to chase it and grab it with all four hooves if that’s what it took.” AJ gave a sniff and a few tears escaped as both remembered those simpler and innocent days of their youth. “After the accident… I knew I had to take respon… respons… gosh durn it… I had to take charge!” He finished forcefully in annoyance. AJ guffawed at his lapse in words and he gave her a mock glare. After a moment to compose himself he continued. He looked down at her and spoke. “Mah dream wasn’t as important as mah family. So I took charge of running the farm. Started teachin you everything Paw taught me.” His eyes hardened. “But it wasn’t enough.” He reached a hoof around her to give her a side hug. “I didn’t want mah sisters or Granny to want fer nothing. I had to be the best, like Paw would’a wanted. Ah MADE it my special talent. This farm.” Now he looked down at his fiddle and gave another sigh. “But I always feel like I let Maw down. Not chasin’ mah dream like she always said to.” AJ’s shoulders began to shake as she silently began to sob. “Im sorry…” She started and wiped her nose with a hoof. “I didn’t know. I should’a tried-“ “Hey now!” He gave her a small shake. “None of that frum you. It was mah choice. Ah made it and Ah don’t regret nun of it. Not even a second.” “Ah…” AJ started and paused to control her sob, but still had tears in her eyes as she looked up at her brother. “Ah could start takin more charge of the farm-“ “No.” He interrupted her forcefully and forsaking his usual negative response. “That’d take away all yer free time with yer friends.” That and he didn’t want anyone in his family to have to make the difficult decision he’d already made. “Sides. Yer the element ‘o’ honesty. Who’d save Equestria… again… if you were too busy workin the farm?” They both gave a small chuckle at that and fell back into a brief silence. “But what ‘bout you? How’dya do it? Run the farm an still got time fer friends?” He snorted in a sad sort of ironic amusement. “An how often do ya see me socializin when I aint workin?” She seemed to deflate in front of him and he winced internally. He reckoned his sister never really understood till now what all he’d given up for his family. Now he wished he’d never said nothin’. “Surely some time ya might-“ He shook his head and cut her off again. “Nnope.” He looked out over the orchard towards the house. “Grannysmith’ll be gone soon.” A painful truth they both knew all too well. “Someday you’ll meet some Stallion. No guar-an-tee he’ll want ta work the farm. Shoot, ya might want ta start yer own homestead someday.” He gave her a playful nudge when she blushed. “And ah don’t think Applebloom wants to farm apples all er life.” AJ was starting to look desperate. “What ‘bout the rest of the family? Couldn’t one ‘o’ them…” He shook his head, this time wondering if his sister would ever accept that this was his decision and that he was far from unhappy with it. “They got their own lives ta live, AJ. Their own dreams to chase.” He stood up and carefully put the fiddle back in its case. “Wouldn’t be right ta ask another ta give up their dream fer mine.” Because sometimes, that’s all they ever were. A dream. “There’s gotta be something ah can do…” AJ’s demeanor became stubborn. That stubbornness in her eyes was all Paw’s right there. He stopped to look his sister carefully in the eyes… and then ruffled her hair under her hat since he knew it annoyed her. He gave her a genuine smile. “Ya already do AJ.” He laughed softly as the confused expression on her face as he walked inside the house. She’d figure it out eventually. He might be a lot of things, but first and foremost… He is Big Macintosh and he is an apple farmer.
wanderlustBig Mac released a breath he felt like he’d been holding for most of his life. He was tired. Nopony knew just how tired he really was. He knew that this wasn’t what life had set out for him. No. This was the life he’d set for himself. He wouldn’t trade what he had now for anything in the world. No would he ever wish for anything to be different for fear that it might come true. Sometimes though, he wondered what might have been. What might have been if his parents hadn’t died in that accident so long ago now? He could guess though. Oh lordy he could guess. Few ponies remembered all the trouble he’d gotten into a colt. Fewer still remembered the wanderlust that ran deep in his veins. It was a wanderlust that he’d inherited, his father had told him. Toughened muscles of over two decades of hard work gave no signs of weakness as he climbed the tallest tree in the orchard. His usual calm expression lit up slightly as he looked to the midnight horizon lit up in moonlight. He could feel it calling to him. He fought back the painful memories of his parents death until he reached the more pleasant ones were they still lived and would continue to do so. His father was a farm pony. He was a hard worker and neither he nor anypony else could ever remember him wanting for more than he needed. That is until a chestnut mare with gold hair walked into town. Barely aware of the town around her, he joked as she marched through with full saddlebags, camping gear, a sword across her back, a compass around her neck and a map in her hoof. According to his father, she appeared to be headed straight toward the Everfree Forest and looked to be cutting through the orchard in whatever direction she was headed. In fact she was so busy looking at her compass that she didn’t even see him until she near walked into him. He said she was the prettiest pony he’d ever laid eyes on and was so flummoxed that he’d said the first thing that came to thought. “Will ya go out wi’ me?” He said he must have blushed crimson at having said that to a mare he hadn’t even been properly introduced to. She looked surprised and confused for a few moments, looking back and forth from him to the compass. After a minute of awkward staring she looked at him with a small laugh and a smile that lit up a fire in his soul before speaking a word that would forever sweeten his life more than any apple could hope to. She said “Yes.” His father always had been a hopeless romantic. He said his mother never told him what it was about him that made her say yes. Times that he’d ask she would just give a little mysterious smile and laugh. His mother was an adventurer and according to her, it ran in the blood. Oh, the stories she would tell him… and the pretend adventures he would have reenacting them got him in so much trouble… “Some day.” She would tell him. She had even begun teaching him the basics of her sword art. Then suddenly, like a flame extinguished… they were gone. Adventures were over. He’d gotten his cutie mark that day. Applebloom had only just been born and Granny would be too busy taking care of the foal to help around the farm. She was too old to be bucking apples anyway. Applejack was still just a little thing herself and just starting school. It would be two years before she left to Manehatten to find her cutie mark. That left him to take care of the family. His desires and wanderlust were nothing to his family and he’d made sure they never wanted for anything just like his father had before him. And so, time passes on. Granny had passed on a few years ago peacefully while napping in her rocker. Applebloom got her cutie mark and finished schooling. Applejack was engaged to a smart young stallion and was running the farm well enough on her own now with the help of her stallion friend and Applebloom. Yet neither of them had ever shown the wanderlust he’d had. Applebloom came closest in her youth what with crusading with her friends but she had eventually grown out of it. When they were younger, he had told them the stories mother had told him in his youth but they just laughed and shook their heads. And he… well… As he came back to his wits, he looked out at the horizon again and realized he’d been up there all night. The first rays of light were just beginning to creep over the hills. Climbing down the tree he made his way to the far corner of the property where a collection of cut stones stood from the earth. He paused but a moment before continuing to a small shack in the corner that held tools to keep the small plot clean. Amidst the tools hung a sword. Brass handle and griffin steel and completely unembellished. “No sense in making something fancy that was made for something dirty.” His mother had told him once. Next to the sword was a specially made adjustable foreleg bracer with a chain that attached from the bracer to the sword hilt. Both were enchanted by a unicorn smithy up in Canterlot. He’d saved up twelve years of his wages to pay for them. With methodical precision he began to fit on the bracer, attach the chain, strap on the saddle bags and secure the sword over his back. Precision that came from years of practice in the Everfree. He hesitated for a second as he reached up to the yoke around his neck. The yoke had been around his neck for most of his life now… He pulled it off and hung it on one of the hooks, releasing a sigh as he did so. He’d been afraid he wouldn’t be able to let go. Just as he was about to step out he saw something else hanging on a hook that he never paid much mind to before now. His Grandpa’s old battered fedora. With an amused huff, he pulled it from the hook and squared it on his head before stepping out of the shack and into the sunrise. From the saddlebag he pulled an old compass. Broken some would say, but his mother had told him that the compass knew where to take you. The needle that had long pointed to the farm… turned suddenly to the south. Turning to face the needle’s direction, he gave the farm a last glance and smiled before stepping out into his own adventure. “Eeyup.” It was time.
Mr Smarty PantsAuthor's Note I've actually written up several more one shots for this story, but its hard to find the time to type them up when there is only one computer and its usually already in use by your significant other... Mr Smarty Pants It was early morning enough that if anypony came looking around they would probably be looking for Applejack or Applebloom. Any deliveries made would go straight to the house and Grannysmith. Given the number of fields they had it was easy for him to disappear and ponies would just assume he was working in one of them. Not completely untrue. It just depended on what your definition of work was. With a grunt of satisfaction, Big Macintosh turned around and made for the farthest field in the east side property. Unaware of the purple alicorn pony that just entered the gate, whom having not spied any other ponies, followed him. Twilight followed leisurely as she figured Big Mac was either headed toward whatever part of the orchard Applejack was working in, or he could tell her where she was. At a seemingly random tree, he stopped and carefully kicked one of the roots. Not even hard enough to shake the leafs from the trees. A sod covered trap door rose from the earth and he quickly stepped down a flight of stairs into the darkness, lit by oil lamps that he lit as he passed. The door normally closed itself but not before she had halted it with her magic. Curiosity piqued, she looked down the stairwell and wondered if she should follow him and see what this was. Perhaps it’s some secret of the Apple family? Certainly it was not a distillery. Closed spaces were downright dangerous at the pressure those things operated at. Indistinct murmurings flowed up the stairs to her ears. Now her curiosity was DEFINITELY piqued. Big Mac was talking? Outside of a song and dance number that didn’t happen very often. Maybe AJ was down there? Stepping softly, she crept down the stairs and peeked around the corner into the room… A dropped jaw of amazement caused her to step fully into the room. It was MASSIVE. The room must have covered the whole east orchard and was supported by concrete walls, ceilings and pillars. On one wall stood dozens of six foot crystal spires and on the other side of the room were large vats of some shifting luminescent liquids vaguely reminiscent of lava lamps, only she could feel the magic rolling off it. Next to it a liquid rainbow churn (that she knew required a license to even own) turned itself silently. Cost of the substance itself was cheap, but the cost of maintenance to keep the machine running smoothly was expensive. At the far end of the room stood several machines she couldn’t even identify save a few. Most of them were found only in universities or research laboratories. It made her own basement lab look like she were little more than a dabbler. In the center of the room on the dirt floor was an enormous six layered polygonal magical rune array. It was active, and glowing a pure white that filled the room. Covering it were script of at least five dead languages including Old Equish, Griffindore, and Minotaurian. At its center a crystal pillar that stood from the earth to the ceiling.She was still learning how to do triangle runes! Big Mac stood to the side, moving across three chalkboards and writing mathematical formulas that made her eyes spin just trying to read. Next to them were a couple chaotic looking charts that, though she didn’t know what they represented, knew were monitoring the progress of whatever experiment was going on. “What it that?” “That’s the Lyapunov Fractal.” He answered absentmindedly. Having somehow lost his accent and not looking away from the equation he was writing. “It’s showing the regions of stability and chaotic behavior in the trees depending how much earth magic is pushed into the ground.” “And that?” “That’s the Dragon Curve.” He finished an equation and began another on the next chalkboard. “It’s interesting how it shows a self-similar fractal from the pegasus magic given from the water, isn’t it?” Satisfied with the equation on the second chalkboard, he moved to the third one, drawing a large curvature and mathematical formula in Minotaurian math, known for its whole numbering system of eight rather than Equestria’s four. “It will be interesting to see what undirected unicorn magic will do in comparison. Given what we know of unicorn magic is that it shortcuts the quantum mechanical curve that, when undirected, could classify as chaos magic. It undermines our basic understanding of the universe to this day. Against all rational thought, ‘out of order chaos is born.’ “But unicorns bring order to magic!” He snorted and finished the equation with a sharp tap. “Perceived order you mean.” He stood back and looked over the equations with narrowed eyes looking for errors. “As is evident by before the age of Discord and long before Ponies began to tame the wild magic of the lands. The world got by just as fine then as it does now. Less orderly but no less structured.” He dragged five crystal spires and set them up around the magical array. Slipping on a pair of gold shoes to act as a focus, he stomped on the ground sending a charge of earth pony magic into the array, surging into the crystal spires and rebounding back into the center crystal pillar where it shot upwards to the orchard. “Tell that to the universities though.” He grunted in annoyance. “Bunch of old farts clinging to an outdated system.” “I WANNA HAVE YOUR FOALS!” Big Macintosh blinked and looked down at the purple Princess that was now wrapped around his forelegs. “Wha-?” “Please! Please! Please!” “Twa-light?” His accent came back in full force. “When-dja even get here?” “I followed you don’t here while you were lost in thought and explained what you were working on absent minded when I asked. Please let me have your foals! Think about it! With your intellect and my magical talent, they could discover the mysteries of the universe!” Big Mac tried to shake her off from his legs. “Let go!”
Hidden TalentsIt was late morning and chores were done. Applejack was off saving the world again no doubt. Applebloom was off somewhere with her friends getting into mischief and Granny was napping back at the house, not that it matters since she could sleep through anything that wasn’t the howl of a timberwolf. It was a perfect time for his hobby. Big Mac liked to sing. More specifically he liked to sing opera. (It was his biggest and greatest secret.) He’d once heard the music flowing from the Ponyville Performing Arts Studio when he was a young colt and he’d been hooked to it ever since. So he pulled Granny’s old Gramophone out of the attic and made a few special orders using an alias of his… “Are you the one they call… Large Apple?” Big Mac jerked to attention and looked around to see Ditzy Do standing in the orchard with a package held under her wing. He leapt behind a tree, only to step out a moment later wearing a dark hooded cloak. “Eeyup… I mean- yes.” The corners of Ditzy’s mouth twitched upwards for a moment before her face settled back into a resolved expression. Sometimes he wondered if she was onto him… Nah. With a couple of cautious glances around him, he stepped forward and accepted the package labeled in large bold lettering, GRAMOPHONE RECORDS INC. Transaction complete, they both gave respectful nods to each other. Large Apple carefully tucked the package into his robe and tippy hooved back behind the tree stealthily. He ignored the loud guffaws behind him. No doubt Ditzy just remembered a joke or something. Big Mac stepped out from behind the tree with a small record carefully held in his mouth and ran quickly to the barn. An old large toolbox sat just outside the doors labeled ‘Big Mac’s stuff’ next to a sign he’d written to remind himself. “Don’t tell nopony.” Pulling out the Gramophone, he quickly set the record, gave it a good wind, cleared his throat… and sang. “Nessun Dorma! Nessun Dorma! Tu pure, o, principessa-“ “GOBOLOBOLOBOBLE!” Big Mac spun around to see a wild turkey. It probably wandered into the orchard from the Everfree. Turning his attention back to the music, he leapt back into verse. “Nella tau fredd-“ “GOBOLOBOLOBOBLE!” He turned around and glared at the turkey, only to find two of them now. “Stupid Turkeys.” He mumbled to himself. No turkey was going to stop him from enjoying of his talents. “Che tremano d’amo-“ “GOBOLOBOLOBOBLE!” Dag nabbit! Now there were four of them! Big Mac gave the turkeys a level stare and took a deep breath… Meanwhile, just outside the acre… Rarity, Toe-Tapper and Torch Song walked down the road with near defeated expressions. “We still need a bass.” Toe-Tapper mumbled. “And we’ve walked all across town looking.” Torch Song dipped her head in defeat. “This quartet may end without ever having formed.” “There must be somepony we have yet to talk to.” Rarity marched forward unwilling to yet give up on this. “Wait.” Torch Song stopped and stood still, turning her head and listening for something. “Do you hear that?” Soft music flowed from Apple acres alongside a smooth deep baritone voice… Rarity’s face lit up with a smile of realization Toe-Tapper turned his head to try. “It sounds like…” “GOBOLOBOLOBOBLE!” A horrifying country accented rendition of a turkey gobble filled the air and a dozen turkeys were seen flying out of the orchard like their tails were on fire. “Aaggh!” The three ponies collided with one another in fright, collapsing in a tangled mess in the road. “That’s it” Rarity exclaimed and ran toward where the music had suddenly stopped. Torch Song ran forward to catch up with Rarity. “You know who that singing was?” “I do.” Rarity slowed as they approached the gate property. “Just let me do the talking.” They strolled through the trees until they approached a barn where Big Mac was quickly tossing a gramophone into a toolbox. Toe Tapper caught up to the other two of his party and spied Big Mac, quickly putting three and one together. “Good stallion! That music!” He praised the uncomfortable looking stallion and missing the shushing motions from the other two. “That-“ “TURKEY WARBLE!” Rarity interrupted. Applejack had told her how embarrassed Big Mac was about his supposed secret talent. While she was an incurable gossip, she would never be so rude as to gossip about a pony right in front of them. “Yes! That turkey warble is just what we need for out quartet.” She shot a ‘look’ at the other two ponies with her. And that’s the story of how Big Mac attended the Turkey Call Competition.
Not stong enoughBig Mac sighed and leaned back in a chair in the living room. Applejack was running the stand, Applebloom was off crusading and Grannysmith decided to go to the market today leaving him to a silent house on a Sunday afternoon. Quiet days like this didn’t come too often, and when they did he tried to enjoy them. He always failed though. Without the noise and work to keep him occupied, the silence would send his thoughts wandering directions he wasn’t always prepared to go. A small flash of silver caught his eye as the sun reflected off a silver filigree box on the mantle. With another sigh, he got up and retrieved it, sitting it on a little stand next to the chair as he collapsed back into his seat. There was a little turnkey that he cranked before opening the box. It was a little music box that played a simple tune called ‘Canterlot.’ It was from some popular musical he was once told. It was his mothers. It was one of the very few personal possessions of hers. She’d been a lot like him; a pony of very simple needs, which made those few personal possessions all the more precious. It would be Applebloom’s one day, when she was responsible enough not to break it by accident. It was given to his mother on the day of Applebloom’s birth. Applejack’s hat was another of their mother’s possessions. His… had once been a Smarty Pants doll given to him as a Hearth Warming gift when he’d been little. Though it had long since been lost, the one Twilight had used a spell on brought back a lot of fond memories. The farm had been his Mother’s. It was passed down to her by her dad as she had been the only one to stay at the farm after growing up. His father on the other hoof had been a blue collar Canterlot pony who came to Ponyville for vacation. When the two met, they said it was like magic. Even in his youth he’d seen just how crazy his parents had been about one another. After Applebloom was born… Mom got sick. She died a few weeks after giving birth. He and his father had been at her death bed when she passed away. She told his father to take care of the family. She told him to take care of his sisters. But his father… Not every pony could be as strong as his mother had been. His father was a broken shell of a stallion when his mother left. He tried to keep going. He tried to take care of the farm and his children… He failed. He took to trying to drink the pain and memories away. Suddenly he wasn’t his Paw anymore. One of the scariest moments of Big Mac’s childhood was walking into the old barn one morning and finding his father holding a scythe to his neck. He cried until his voice was hoarse. He’d only just lost his mother. He didn’t want to lose his father too. Applejack had never been so angry. Her father had failed them, failed his family and failed his wife’s last request. No matter how bleak life can get, there should always be enough love for your family to keep living. Big Mac knew better. Such tragedy was not unique to Ponyville. Similar stories were told in the news across Equestria. Broken ponies unable to piece their selves back together. Not every pony could be strong as his mother had been. Not every pony could be as strong as Applejack was. A few days later, his father was accepted into the Manehatten Mental and Psychiatric Hospital. His treatment and stay was paid for monthly by bits from Mac’s own wages. Unless a pony were to directly ask, Applejack was content to allow others to come to their own conclusions about their parents, or to just tell them straight out that she wasn’t going to talk about it. Though he’d never say it, Big Mac could never really blame his father. His father would probably never recover. In truth he hadn’t thought of that stallion as his father in years. Even though he continued to pay for his treatment and sent him letters that today were still unanswered. He was just a shell that looked like him now. His father was just a fond memory today. As he was the next oldest, the farm would fall to him when Grannysmith passed away. He wouldn’t risk it though, and went to the bank to put the deed in Applejack’s name. He was afraid he wasn’t strong enough to carry the farm… Not every pony was as strong as Applejack was. The second scariest moment of his life was when he’d almost married Cheerilee. It wasn’t that he couldn’t see himself falling in love. It was his fear that he might have taken more after his father than he did his mother. That if anything bad happened that he wouldn’t be strong enough to be there for others when they needed him. So he began to shy away from Cheerilee… regardless of how happy they’d been after testing the waters from the love poison incident. He worked harder and longer and avoided making close friendships, but not enough that ponies would notice and try to help him. If ever he failed them… failed his family… failed his friends… He wasn’t as strong as the rest of his family. Choking back a sob, he closed the music box.
