After a long, sleepless night, it was finally time.
Applejack had meant to sleep at least a few hours before she left, but her apprehensions about her long journey had kept her awake all night. Now, the clock by her bedside told her that her hour had arrived. She tossed aside the blankets and went to her closet, where saddlebag she had packed the day before lay waiting. She quickly donned the bags and cinched down its straps as quietly as she could, then carefully made her way out of her room.
She carefully tip-hoofed past Applebloom’s room, then Granny Smith’s, and finally Big Macintosh’s. The Apple family homestead was old and creaky, and she cursed every squeaking floorboard as she made her way down the corridor. She gave a sigh of relief when she at last reached the stairwell and began making her way down.
There was no time for a proper breakfast, so on her way to the door she grabbed an apple from the bowl on the kitchen table. As she did so, a light came on above the stairs. Applejack’s heart sank as Big Macintosh came down the stairs and calmly walked up to her. He stood before her for a moment, eyeing Applejack and her saddlebags.
“AJ,” he said simply.
Applejack pursed her lips. She had really, really been hoping to avoid this exact confrontation. “Big Mac, I…I know you an’ Granny Smith think I’m a dang fool for wantin’ to do this…”
“Eeyup,” Big Mac said.
“…and I know that leavin’ the farm in the middle of apple buckin’ season ain’t exactly the most responsible thing I ever done…”
“Eeyup,” Big Mac said again, drawing out the first syllable ever so slightly.
“…and I…I know it’s a long shot at best, and everybody tells me I need to just let it go and all…”
Big Mac nodded slowly before replying, quieter than before. “Eeyup.”
“But…” Applejack shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “But if it is him, Mackie; if there’s even a slim chance that it’s him, well…I just gotta take that chance. I just gotta!” She turned from her brother and cinched down the straps on her saddle bag. “I’ve made up my mind, Big Mac, and there ain’t nothin’ you can do to stop me.”
“Nope.”
Applejack turned back, surprised. “You mean…you’re just going to let me go?”
“Eeyup.”
“Aren’t you gonna…lecture me about how irresponsible I’m bein’? Tell me what a bad sister I am?”
“Nope.”
Applejack stared at her brother, then tears began to well up in Applejack’s eyes. Somehow, Big Mac’s silence was a thousand times worse than any lecture he could give. She turned her face away in shame, and a few tears spilled down her cheek.
After a moment, Big Mac put a hoof under AJ’s chin and lifted her gaze to meet his.
“Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do,” he drawled out slowly.
Fresh tears spilled down Applejack’s cheeks. She wrapped her hooves around her big brother’s neck, burying her face in his fur.
“Thank you, Mackie. Thank you for understanding.”
He offered her a little smile as she pulled away. “Eeyup.”
Applejack couldn’t help but chuckle. She pulled away from him and dried her eyes with a hoof. “You’ll look after Granny Smith and Apple Bloom while I’m gone?”
“Eeyup.”
“Okay, then.” Applejack opened her mouth and closed it again, but there was nothing left to say. Instead, she nodded to her brother and turned towards the door.
“I’ll be back uh…well, I’ll be back when I’m through.”
“Eeyup.”
With one last smile, Applejack pushed through the door and stepped out into the cool morning air.
Nathan was taking a break from his digging, and was resting on a large rock when he heard the sound of hoofsteps coming up the hillside. The hot summer sun was beating mercilessly down on Equestria’s only human, and for a moment he hoped that the heat was playing tricks on his mind. But the sound kept growing louder and louder, and Nathan knew he had at last been found. His heart sank again a moment later, when he saw a familiar orange Stetson appear above the rise, followed shortly after by the familiar orange mare who wore it. She did not see him at first, as her eyes were still carefully stepping her way up the hill’s rocky ground. Nathan would have expected her to be out of breath from her climb, but her breathing was more labored than it should be for a pony in her shape. When she finally crested the rise, she at last lifted her head to look around, and that’s when she spotted him. She froze, one hoof still hovering in mid-step. They stared at each other for a long moment, then Applejack slowly began walking towards him.
Every emotion passed across Applejack’s face as she approached: joy, relief, sadness, unbridled rage. By the time she reached him, tears were streaming down her dirty face, and her lip was trembling. She stood on her hind legs, put her front hooves on his chest, and searched his face. He had grown a beard and a head of hair since she had seen him last, but he trusted he was still recognizable.
“Hey Applejack,” Nathan said.
Applejack’s face soured, and she brought her hoof sharply across his face. Nathan had seen it coming, but had made no move to defend himself. She did it a second time, then a third. Then she began raining blows on his chest and head, muttering curses at him all the while.
“You stupid…no good…lyin’…cheatin’…good-fer-nothin’, no-account bum! Is that all you have to say to me after all you put me through?! Put all of us through?!” She was screaming, gasping for air as she pounded his chest with her hooves. “We thought you were dead! And now here I find you livin’ out in the middle of nowhere, and all you can say ta’ me is…” She trailed off as her words devolved into sobs. She stopped pounding his chest and collapsed into his arms, wrapping her hooves around his middle. “You’re alive. Oh thank Celestia, you’re alive. I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, Applejack.” He was crying too, now. The two of them sank to the ground, holding each other and crying. They stayed like that for a long moment, until Nathan felt her body go limp, and he realized that she had feinted. Laying the little pony across his lap, he quickly checked her pulse and listened to her breath. Then he scooped the little pony up in his arms, pack and all, and carried her towards his log cabin.
***
Nathan carried the unconscious Applejack past several rows of young apple trees and garden plot to the small log cabin he called home. When he reached the door, he gently pushed it open with his toe and carried her inside. He laid her down on his crude bed of pine needles, then went quickly to a bucket of water in one corner and poured water from it into a carved wooden bowl. He brought the bowl back to Applejack and rolled her onto her back, so that her pack was propping her up. He gently shook her shoulder.
“Applejack? Applejack.”
“Nathan?” she answered, her eyes fluttering open.
“Here, drink some water.”
He tilted her head forward so that her lips met the bowl. Though she was not yet fully awake, she gulped greedily at the cool liquid, letting some of it spill down her chin. Before long, the bowl was empty.
“Hang on, I’ll get you more.” Nathan took the bowl from her and went to refill it. As he did so, Applejack became more alert, and started to look around her strange surroundings. He returned with the bowl and held it up to her lips again. She sipped from the bowl, only slightlyl slower than before, all the while staring at Nathan over the rim. When the bowl was empty, Nathan turned to fill it a third time.
“Is this real?” she asked. “Is it really you?”
“It’s me,” he said, his back still turned. “For better or for worse.” He sat next to her on the bed again. “Now, drink this one slower, okay? You’re dehydrated—” he was interrupted as the orange mare fairly tackled him backwards, spilling both water and bowl onto the floor. She pinned him against his makeshift headboard, her arms wrapped around his chest.
“It is you, it really is you.” She was crying again, her face buried in his shoulder. Nathan gave her a moment, then carefully pried her arms away from him, one at a time, so that he could free her pack from her shoulders, then scooped up the mare in his arms and held her like a baby.
“Th-they all told me I was crazy, th-they said I had to let you go, but I…I knew you were still alive, I just knew it…” she said no more after that, and simply bawled into his chest, great sobs shaking her tiny body to the core. This went on for a long time, Nathan could not say how long, while Nathan silently shed tears of her own. Eventually Applejacks sob grew quieter and quieter, until eventually they stopped altogether. Still they lay like that, with Applejack’s head resting against his chest as she caressed his face with one hoof.
Nathan cleared his throat. “Applejack, how did you find me?”
Applejack sniffled. “Gargoyle.”
“What?”
Applejack sighed. “A gargoyle said they saw a two-legged monster wanderin’ around these parts as they were flyin’ by. The gargoyle told some griffins, and those griffins told Gilda, and Gilda told Rainbow Dash…” She wiped her nose with her hoof. “But nobody else wanted to believe it was you. Nobody else wanted to come with me. They…Rarity told me not to go out on some dang-fool rescue mission, said you was gone and I needed to let you go, made me promise…” She looked back up at him. “But I had to come find you Nathan, I just had to. I knew it was you out here, somehow.”
Nathan sighed. By the time he had seen that gargoyle overhead, six months ago it must have been, it was too late for him to try to hide. He had hoped at the time that it hadn’t spotted him, but clearly he had not been so lucky.
Applejack pushed away from his chest and sat on her haunches.
“Did…did you mean what you said, Nathan? In your letter? Is is true that you…have feelings for me?”
Nathan nodded.
“All that time we spent together, and you never told me the truth? And you were planning to…leave us all along?” Fresh tears streaked down her face. “Was there ever anything honest between us? Is everything I know about you a lie?” Nathan reached for her, but she pushed him away. “Why’d you run away, Nathan? Why’d you say were gonna…kill yourself?” she stumbled over the word.
He could not bear to meet her eye. “You know why, Applejack. I told you in the letter.”
“I want to hear you say it. I want you to say it, right here to my face.” Her expression shifted from hurt to anger.
Despite her demand, Nathan could not bear to face her. He rose from the bed and stood in the corner. “I wanted to die, Applejack. Equestria is better off without any of my kind. Mankind…” Nathan made a disgusted noise. “We only bring pain and suffering wherever we go. I don’t deserve your affection, Applejack, and I don’t deserve to live. It would have been better if I had died on my world with all the rest of them.”
Applejack walked up behind him, stood on her hind legs, and turned him around to face her. She lifted his chin so that his eyes met hers. “I am perfectly capable of decidin’ for myself who is and is not worthy of my affections, Nathan. And as for all this ‘deservin’ to die nonsense…” She hugged him again. “I admit that I don’t know nothin’ bout no mankind. All I know is you. And you are one of the most nicest and thoughtful stallions I’ve ever met.”
With her face still on his chest, Applejack could not have seen the little scowl that crossed his face, but it soon passed. Human and pony held each other for a few long minutes, not saying anything.
“So…why didn’t you, then? Why didn’t you…” Applejack asked. Her tone implied that she was afraid to broach the subject.
Nathan sighed. “Well, I was going to, but on my way I met an angel.”
“Uncle?” a tiny voice said. Both of them turned to face the sound. From an unseen, blocked-off section of the cabin came a tiny female voice. A few seconds later, a tiny, white-scaled dragon emerged, rubbing her eyes. Applejack gasped.
“Aww, hi honey,” Nathan cooed. “I’m sorry, did we wake you up?” Nathan scooped the little dragon up in his arms and hugged it.
Applejack could only watch, her jaw agape. “Uncle?”
The dragon barely came up to Nathan’s knees, had striking, blood-red eyes, and a pair of leathery wings that protruded from the center of her back. Spike was the only other juvenile dragon Applejack had ever met, but this dragon’s body was much more lithe and catlike than his.
Looking over Nathan’s shoulder, the little dragon was staring at Applejack with equal curiousity. “Pony,” said the toddler.
Nathan turned around, so that the two of them were both facing Applejack. “Pony, that’s right. Ambriel, this is Uncle’s friend Applejack.”
“Orange pony,” the child observed.
“Ambriel, what do we say when we meet someone?” Nathan prodded.
“Nice meet you,” the child said, squirming until Nathan set her down. Applejack sat on her haunches and smiled incredulously in spite of herself. “Well hey there, little partner.”
The little dragon was biting one talon pensively as she regarded Applejack, taking special notice of her cutie mark. “Apple,” she said, pointing.
“Apples, very good!” Nathan said, forcing praise into his voice.
Ambriel turned back to Nathan and crawled into his lap, then looked at his face. “Owwie,” she said, touching the purple spots on Nathan’s face that Applejack’s blows had left. The little dragon then touched the wetness under his cheeks. “Uncle cry. Uncle sad. Pony hurt Uncle?”
Nathan dried the last of his tears, then shook his head. “No, Ambriel, Applejack didn’t hurt Uncle.” He looked up at Applejack, still sitting at the other side of the room. “Uncle hurt Applejack.”
Ambriel considered this a long moment, then ran over to Applejack and wrapped her tiny arms around one of Applejack’s forelegs. “Uncle sorry. Uncle accident. Uncle good uncle, okay?” Applejack could only laugh as she dried her own tears.
“Er, Ambriel, are you hungry? I have some gems for you in my bag.”
“Gem-gem!” Ambriel said excitedly, running over to Nathan’s bag where it rested by the door. Then, with difficulty, the little dragon dragged the bag back over to where Nathan sat on the bed, hopped up next to him, and began to munch on handfuls of the precious stones with her head resting in Nathan’s lap.
Applejack laughed as she dried the last of her tears. “Nathan darlin’, I’d say you’ve got some explainin’ to do.”
Nathan absentmindedly stroked the dragon’s scales and nodded. He pondered for a moment where to begin. “Well, it all started two years ago.”
When Nathan’s book was finished, he knew it was time.
The book had been Twilight’s idea: to compile everything he knew, everything he had ever learned in school, every experience and memory he could recall, and put them all to page. He started with the notes that Twilight had made after Nathan had first come to Equestria, as a “guest” in the royal palace. He expanded on them, refined them, then revised them again and again for clarity and accuracy. It was an autobiography, not merely for himself, but for the entire human race.
When he was at last satisfied with the end result, he gave the book to Twilight to file away in her library, and began making the necessary preparations to end his own life. He made a will that divided all of his possessions and filed it with the clerk at town hall. He then penned his final correspondence to his friends, then arranged for the letter to not be delivered for three whole months later. He packed a minimum of provisions, only what he would need for a one-way trip, and began walking southeast through the Everfree Forest.
His destination was Mt. Wormrest, a mostly-dormant volcano some five-hundred miles away. The train from Ponyville to Appaloosa would have cut his journey by half, but as Equestria’s only human, he would have made a very memorable passenger. He could not afford to leave his friends any indication as to what direction he had gone. Neither did he take the biplane he had constructed with Rainbow Dash’s help. At cruising speed, his machine could have reached the volcano in just a few days, but the noisy aircraft was anything but inconspicuous.
So, Nathan walked. He steered well clear of the few pony towns and settlements on his route, and even then traveled mostly at night to avoid any wayward hikers or other ponies that might have reason to wander the countryside.
It took Nathan two weeks to reach the volcano, and another three days beyond that to hike to its summit. Though it was summer in Equestria, the mountain’s upper reaches were still covered in snow, and it was very slow going. In the afternoon of the third day Nathan finally reached the lip of the volcano’s caldera and climbed down to the inside.
The floor of the caldera had long since cooled and crusted over, but was still warm enough to keep Snow from sticking to its suface, and here and there a few pools of molten lava still bubbled at the surface. Nathan’s plan was simple: he would jump into one of the pools of molten rock, which would instantly incinerate him, leaving behind no remains for his friends to agonize over. Nathan did not suppose he would especially enjoy the sensation of being incinerated, but he hoped it would be a relatively quick death. Besides, the idea of being completely destroyed and leaving behind no trace of his passing was appealing to him. It seemed the next best thing to having never been born.
At the floor of the caldera, Nathan decided that the largest of the lava pools would suit his needs best. As an added benefit, a natural rock outcropping from the wall of the caldera overhung the pool, and would make a suitable diving platform. It took Nathan only a moment to climb to the top of the outcropping. Once there, he walked to the edge of the, looked down at the lava pool, and gathered his courage.
The outcropping was perhaps a hundred feet above the lava pool, but Nathan could feel the heat rising from it even from that height. He nudged a nearby rock over the edge with his toe, watched it fall for a second, and be instantly liquefied as it came in contact with the lava.
After a few moments, he was ready. He backed away from the ledge to get a running start, but just then he heard a sound. It was so faint that at first he was not sure that he had heard anything at all. But then he heard it again: the unmistakable sound of a baby crying, the sound echoing off the volcano’s inner walls.
Nathan climbed down from the outcropping. The floor of the caldera was nearly half a mile across, and it took him fifteen minutes to locate the sound’s origin. At the north end of the caldera, amid a scattering of precious gemstones, Nathan found a newly-hatched baby dragon.
Nose to tail, she was about the length of Nathan’s forearm. Her scales were all white, with soft, pink spines protruding from her back. She was crying loudly, and the sound was almost indistinguishable from the sound a human infant would make.
Nathan gently picked the dragon up and cradled it in his arms. The moment he did so, the infant stopped crying, and nuzzled into his chest. Her eyes slowly opened, and after a moment, sleepily settled on his face.
Nathan cooed at the infant in spite of himself. He opened his jacket and nestled the tiny thing inside, then made for the wall of the caldera, the same way he come down.
Nathan paused his story to look down at the little dragon named Ambriel, who was still contentedly munching gems with her head in Nathan’s lap. He stayed silent for a long moment, caressing her spines with a sad look on his face.
“That first week was bad, Applejack. I couldn’t get her to eat any of the food I brought, or any of the berries or roots I found growing here on the mountain. She almost starved.” Nathan began to tear up again. “Eventually, I took her down to the lower reaches of the mountain, and managed to set up a trap for some of the mountain goat ewes that live there. I took some of their milk and gave that to her, and that was how I fed her for the first few months. The goats here seem to be much more intelligent than the ones we had on earth, and I think they understood the situation. Eventually they started coming by to let me milk them willingly, without my having to trap them.”
“For the first couple months we mostly followed the mountain goats around the mountain, just sleeping right on the grass. But it was almost winter by then, and I knew we would need better shelter. When we found this little valley here, I made the cabin and planted the crops. I had saved the seeds from the apples I brought with me, plus the eyes of the potatoes. The zap apple trees grew just a few days after they were planted, and that one harvest gave us food for the whole winter. Even so, that first winter was rough.”
Applejack watched Nathan’s eyes glaze over at the memory. After a moment, he shook his head. “But, this year has been a lot better. Ambriel is on solid food now, and between the crops and the gems I dig up, we’re doing…we did okay.”
“Slim gem!” Ambriel interrupted, oblivious to the weighty conversation the adults were having. She was triumphantly holding up a particularly long and thin ruby. Then the little dragon furrowed her brow, performing some sort of impression. “Step into a slim gem!” she said with the deepest voice she could manage, then devoured the stone with gusto.
Applejack laughed. “What in the world? Did you teach her that?”
Nathan smiled and shook his head. “It’s…nothing. Something stupid from my world.”
“Uncle, can we play outside?” Ambriel had finished her meal and crawled up to look Nathan in the eye.
Nathan forced a smile at the youngster. “Okay, sweetheart. We can play outside.”
“Yay!” the young dragon scrambled off Nathan’s lap and waited patiently by the door, wagging her scaly tail in anticipation like a dog.
Nathan stretched and stood up. “Well, Applejack, can I give you the grand tour?”
* * *
After Applejack assured Nathan that she was feeling better and was in no danger of feinting again, the three left the little log cabin and stepped out into the bright afternoon sun. While Ambriel danced and spun nearby, Nathan showed Applejack his little orchard. Though the trees scarcely came up to Nathan’s chest, they were all heavy with huge, sumptuous-looking apples. Applejack beamed with pride as she recognized the various varieties of apples that she had personally helped cultivate back at Sweet Apple Acres, and admired the job Nathan had done of pruning them for maximum yield, just like she had taught him.
Nathan showed her the small lake not far from the cabin that was fed by snow melt from the upper reaches of the mountain. He showed her the system of sluices and trenches he had dug to irrigate his crops, and the little shed he had built nearby where he dried and stored any food that was leftover.
“I help!” Ambriel proudly proclaimed.
“Yes, and Ambriel is very helpful in drying the food.” Nathan smiled as he petted the dragon’s head. “Bam-Bam, will you get us some apples for dinner? Be sure to get a few extra for Applejack.”
“Kay!” With that, the little dragon scurried off on all fours back to the orchard. Nathan and Applejack followed at a slower pace.
They walked in silence for a moment, until Nathan noticed that Applejack was staring up at him.
“What?” he asked.
Applejack gave a little smile. “I think it’s downright decent of you, what you’re doing here for that little girl. I reckon you’ve done right by that little dragon. She sure seem to think the world of ya’.
Nathan shook his head and looked after Ambriel as she scurried from tree to tree, taking care to select only the biggest and ripest apples. “No, Applejack. If I were decent, I’d have taken Ambriel back to a pony town, where she could live in a proper house where there was always enough to eat, and see a doctor when she was sick, and have little friends to play with instead of just me. But I couldn’t let anybody else see me alive, because I couldn’t bear to face you all again. I’m a coward.”
“But you’re not a coward, Nathan!” A note of exasperation crept into Applejack’s voice. “You didn’t’ have to take in that little girl like you did. What do you suppose would have happened to her if you hadn’t come along? And that little girl looks as happy and healthy as any filly I’ve ever seen.”
Nathan said nothing. The two had reached the little plot of potatoes, and Nathan knelt down and reached into the dirt under a plant and started pulling out small, hoof-sized vegetables.
Applejack knelt down near him and watched him work. “Why do you do that, Nathan?”
“Do what?” he asked, knowing perfectly well what she meant.
“Always put yourself down like that.”
A particularly large potato was reluctant to come out of the ground, and Nathan had to reach in with both hands to wrench it free. When it finally came loose, Nathan sighed and looked at his two dirt-covered hands, then balled them into fists. “I hate humans, Applejack I hate myself.” He put the potato on the pile with the others. “You know that.”
“Don’t mean I understand it,” Applejack said softly.
“Uncle, help!” Ambriel had returned, struggling to carry a half-dozen apples in her claws.
Nathan snapped out of it, and smiled as he took a few of the apples our of her claws. “Bam-Bam, you’re so silly. What did I tell you about carrying so many at once?”
* * *
Dinner that night was a simple affair. Over the stone hearth in one corner of the log cabin, Nathan made a respectable pot of mashed potatoes in his little camping pot, with a little goat cheese on top for added flavor. When the three had finished that off, they washed the pot and had a rudimentary applesauce for dessert. They had no sugar, but the Apple Family Jonagolds were more than sweet enough on their own.
They had no proper plates or bowls to eat out of, so the three of them ate directly out of the pot. Nathan and Applejack sat on the bed, while Ambriel sat on the floor, playing with one of the many wooden toys Nathan had carved for her between bites. Applejack did most of the talking, catching Nathan up on everything that had happened in Ponyville since he’d left. The evening wore on, and soon Ambriel began to yawn and rub her eyes.
“Uh oh,” Nathan said. “Bedtime for Bam-Bam.”
“I want a story, Uncle!” Ambriel said, sleepily crawling onto Nathan’s lap.
“You want a story?” Nathan narrowed his eyes, accusingly. “Didn’t I just tell you a story last night?”
“Story!” Ambriel protested with a smile.
“Well, alright.” Nathan bit his lip and looked around for a moment while he thought. Then, he looked back to Ambriel and smiled. “There once was a beautiful baby dragon named Ambriel.”
Ambriel giggled and pointed to herself. “Bam-Bam!”
Nathan continued. “Ambriel lived on the slope of a great volcano with her uncle. Uncle loved Ambriel with all his heart, and Ambriel loved Uncle just as much. The two laughed and played in their little valley on the slope of the volcano, and they were happy together.
“One day, a wicked witch was flying high overhead on her broomstick. When she saw Ambriel and Uncle, she was jealous of their happiness. So she cast a spell on Uncle, and turned him into an apple tree.
“Ambriel was sad for Uncle, and she began to cry. But the Uncle tree said, ‘Don’t cry, Ambriel. Being a tree is much better than being a man. I can give you apples to eat, so you will never be hungry. When it is hot, my leaves will give you shade. When it is cold, you can use my branches to make a fire. Now we can be together forever.’ After he said this, Ambriel wasn’t sad anymore, and she and Uncle were happy in their little valley.
“When the wicked witch saw this, she became enraged, and she used her magic to turn Uncle into a cloud. Ambriel was sad for Uncle, and she began to cry. But then Uncle cloud said, ‘Don’t cry, Ambriel. Being a cloud is much better than being a man. Every day I can bring you water from the sea, so that you will never be thirsty. If you are hot, I can block out the sun. And if you are tired, you can rest on the top of me. Now we can be together forever.’ After he said this, Ambriel wasn’t sad anymore, and she and Uncle were happy in their little valley.
“When she saw this, the wicked witch became even more engraged, and she used her magic to turn Uncle into a star. Now Ambriel was even more sad, because she did not know where he had gone, and she cried all day long. But as the sun set and the stars came out, Ambriel heard Uncle’s voice coming from the sky. When she looked up, she saw Uncle star smiling down at her.
“Uncle star said, ‘Don’t cry, Ambriel. Being a star is much better than being a man. I can give you light to see by, and if you are ever lost I can help you find your way home. I will visit you every night, and I will always look after you. Now we can be together forever.’ After he said this, Ambriel was not sad anymore, and she danced and laughed all through the night in Uncle’s starlight.
“When she saw this, the wicked witch became even more enraged. She wanted to turn Uncle into something else, but now that he lived in the sky, she could not reach him.
“Years went by, and Ambriel grew up to be a beautiful dragoness, as big as the tallest tree. The wicked witch grew old and died, but the Uncle star kept his place in the sky. And just as he promised, he visited Ambriel every night and watched over her while she slept. And the two of them lived happily ever after.”
Fresh tears spilled from Applejack’s eyes as Nathan reached the end of his story, and she smiled. Ambriel just clapped her claws together and squealed with delight.
“Uncle star,” Ambriel repeated. Her giggle was cut short by a yawn, and she began to rub her eyes.
“Okay, bedtime for Bam-Bam.” Nathan scooped the little dragon up in his arms and carried her around the corner, to her little bed of stone and pine needles. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“Night-night, uncle,” Applejack heard her say from around the corner. By the time Nathan returned, the little dragon was softly snoring.
Nathan sat next to Applejack on the bed. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he put his arm around her. Nathan’s little log cabin had no lamps or candles, so the only light came from the little fire in the hearth that was quickly burning down to embers.
It was Applejack who finally spoke. “So what happens now?” she asked.
Nathan shook his head. “I don’t know. I assume the dragons use this volcano during their migration, and Ambriel’s egg somehow got lost during the last one. My plan was to take care of Ambriel until the next dragon migration, but…” he shook his head, puzzled. “It’s been two years now, and I haven’t seen even a single dragon flying overhead. I don’t understand.”
“Nathan, darlin’,” Applejack said, patting his knee. “The dragon migration only happens once every forty years. We’re not due for another one for another thirty-five or so.”
There was another long silence. “Oh,” was all Nathan could think to say.
They said nothing else after that, just held each other as they stared into the fire. Before long, Applejack began to yawn as well.
“Guess we ought to get some sleep,” Nathan said, rising to his feet. “You take the bed, I’m fine on the—"
Before he could finish, Applejack wrapped her forelegs around his middle and tackled him back into the soft pine needle bed.
“Ah…” Nathan began to protest.
“Shh.” Applejack pushed Nathan flat on his back. She removed her hair band, gave her long blonde mane a few shakes, then settled into Nathan’s shoulder, letting one hoof drape across his chest. “Lunkhead,” she said, with no small amount of anger in her voice.
They lay like that for a long time. Though Nathan could no longer see Applejack’s face in the dying light from the fire, he occasionally felt the wetness from her tears on his chest.
“AJ?” he asked.
“Hmm?”
“Are you still mad at me?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Can you forgive me?”
Applejack sighed. “Maybe.”
Nathan supposed that was the best he could hope for. He began to pet Applejack’s coat with one hand, eliciting a contented sigh from her.
Another moment passed, then Nathan decided it was a good a time as any. “Applejack?”
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” Her reply came without hesitation.
Nathan tilted his head forward and softly brought his lips to hers.