“And that’s why Big Mac power-washes the staircase every weekend.” Applejack’s grin doubled in size as she finished her story. “And I do mean every weekend.” Rarity covered her giggling with a hoof, joined in shortly by Applejack’s boisterous laughter.
This was fun. Certainly, it had started out oddly enough. The two of them had gotten into a fight two days ago, over… To be honest, Rarity couldn’t even recall anymore. It seemed so infuriating at the time, and Applejack just has that way of getting under a pony’s skin. But that was before Applejack had dared her to spend a day on the farm. And true, Rarity had been forced to endure several of the unsightly farm chores, wherein she always discovered some new uncivilized quirk in the cowpony.
Yet, they had laughed. Rarity had needled Applejack for a good ten minutes about the fine Wonderbolt Soarin who had recently taken an interest in her older brother, and what a cute couple the two of them were. This lasted until Applejack retaliated by mentioning a rumor she’d heard, that Carousel Boutique had recently taken on an order for the wedding accoutrements of “one Ince-prey Ueblood-blay”. After a minute of stone-faced staredown, the pair burst out laughing together. They chuckled over their younger sisters’ latest forays into the goth lifestyle—hopefully a very short-lived phase, they agreed—and Applejack even offered to watch over them this weekend while Rarity was busy working on “I thought we just agreed you wouldn’t bring him up again”’s tuxedo. Applejack accidentally got a bit of mud on Rarity’s stole, and she rushed to apologize and clean it, but more importantly she recognized that it was a stole and not a scarf. At lunch, Rarity had helped herself to thirds of Applejack’s delicious cooking—to Tartarus with her diet—while listening to Applejack explain that while she wasn’t crazy about Soarin’s injury-prone profession, he was a sweetheart and just the sort of stallion that a pony like her brother deserved. And they both got another laugh as a red-earred Big Mac and Soarin walked into the kitchen that very moment. It was all so silly, yet sweet and carefree and delightfully warm. It was fun.
It was also very much a first date.
Well, perhaps Applejack hadn’t called it a date, per se. It had began with a fight and a dare, after all. But Applejack was a down-to-earth mare. Perhaps she didn’t care to make an overly large production over naming schemes, instead opting to simply go out and do. And perhaps she had the right of it. After all, a rose by any other name could still probably bench press Rarity, with sinfully chiseled legs like those… Rarity took a brief moment to watch the sweat drip off Applejack’s well-toned frame, and shivered.
“Y’all cold already?” Applejack gave her a small frown, concern written on her brow. “Ain’t even evenin’ proper, yet.”
Rarity quickly shook her head, though it was difficult to say whether this was in response to Applejack, or to dislodge the mental images of lewd pectoral showcasing. “No, no, thank you though. I should be fine once we’re back inside the house.” She hesitated a moment, but… no, date or not, this had been going on for years. “By the by, you do realize that ‘y’all’ is a plural? There’s no need for that when it’s… just you and me,” she said, fighting every bodily impulse to blush.
Applejack flashed another of her roguishly delicious smirks. “Course I know that. Why do y’all reckon I’ve been talking this way at y’all all day? Certainly y’all ain’t accusin’ me of tryin’ ta pester y’all with some silly little thing at every opportunity.”
“You know,” said Rarity, regarding her coolly, “I’m putting the finishing touches on the bridesmaid dresses tomorrow. I might have need for a model while I’m making the final adjustments, and you’re just the right size.”
The staredown between the two mares lasted just a few moments before they both burst out laughing again. “Alright, alright, you win this round, Rarity.” She motioned through the apple orchard, roughly northward if Rarity still had her bearings. “The house is just ‘bout ten minutes thataway. We’ll be there faster than a grasshopper can—”
“Good afternoon, Applejack!” called out a voice from overhead. “Oh! And… Oh. Ohhh.” Princess Twilight Sparkle glided down beneath the treetops and came to a stop in front of the two mares, grinning ear to ear. “Hello to you too, Rarity. Sorry for interrupting things.”
Rarity returned her own mischievous smirk, while meanwhile, Applejack waved off the apology. “Nah, don’tcha worry none, Twi. Me ‘n’ Rarity were just headin’ back to the house for dinner. Sorry, if I’da known you’d be stoppin’ by, I mighta baked up some more apple turnover crisp.”
Twilight turned to Rarity, wide-eyed. “And she cooked dinner,” she said, awestruck. For good measure, she added a nod and some murmurs of approval.
Beaming, Rarity stood aside Applejack and tilted her head until it rested against Applejack’s. “I have had a positively wonderful day together with Applejack.”
“Aww, shucks.” Applejack scratched the back of her head. “Y’all are makin’ a bigger production outta this than necessary. I just wanted to treat this one right while she was a guest here in my home. Ain’t more complicated than that.”
“Eee, this is so exciting!” Twilight Sparkle sat up on her haunches, such that she might clap her hooves together with glee. “I can’t believe that the two of you are actually dating! Ooo, wait ‘til I tell the girls.”
Rarity finally chose this moment to let her blush reveal itself. She looked away and smiled demurely—a smile which she just might have been endlessly rehearsing since she was a wee filly, in preparation for a moment of true love such as this.
“We what, now?”
Given Twilight’s giddy reaction, she likely didn’t hear Applejack over her own laughter. “Oh, you two lovebirds make such a cute couple. AJ and Rarity! Sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I—”
“Twilight Sparkle!” Applejack snapped.
Twilight flinched back a full two steps, quickly searching Applejack’s face for any hints. “I… Applejack, what’s wrong?”
“What in the world’s gotten into you?” With a faint curl to her lip, Applejack took her own two steps forward and sized up Twilight before continuing. “You’ve got some nerve. Comin’ here, to this very orchard, and sayin’ that to my face!”
Twilight Sparkle’s jaw hung agape as she struggled to keep up. “Applejack, I was just teasing. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Applejack turned her head away and snorted. “Well, some jokes just ain’t funny, and some lines ain’t meant t’be crossed. That includes so-called jokes ‘bout me and Rarity up a tree.” She took a few strained breaths through her teeth. “I’d appreciate it if my friends wouldn’t say such awful things.”
“I-I’m sorry,” Twilight said, her voice a fragile whisper. “I had no idea that… Oh Celestia.” Wide-eyed and pleading, she turned toward the other mare. “Rarity, please, I am so, sosorry. I had no idea that—”
Whatever else was said beyond that, Rarity couldn’t hear. She took off at a full gallop toward the farmhouse, sobbing aloud to mask the sound of her breaking heart.
It still took Rarity about seven minutes to reach the farmhouse. She wasn’t particularly the athletic sort, and having one’s heart torn asunder tends to wind a pony somewhat. After reaching the kitchen—vacant, thank the stars—she spent just a few brief moments to tidy up her appearance. Fixing a bit of smudged mascara, tidying up her hair… She just needed to make her way back home, and there, surrounded by chocolate and tissues, she would be able to properly grieve in peace.
Even before she finished with her makeup, she heard a telltale sizzle and zap from outside the window. A few seconds later, the sound of another set of hooves entered through the doorway. “Rarity, I’m so sorry,” said Twilight. “I just assumed that—”
“You only assumed because I had assumed as well.” Rarity had not fully recovered just yet—from either of her physical exertions—but years of habit and training have an effect on a mare. She did what she could to even out her tone and fix her mane. “It was presumptuous of me, to act as I did. Applejack was… well, perhaps a touch emphatic, but well within her right.”
Twilight let the thought sit for a moment, watching as Rarity applied her finishing touches and returned her makeup to her bag. “Look, Rarity,” she said, just as Rarity was about to lift the purse, “I’m sure you recall. As the recently-appointed Princess of Friendship, one of my official duties is to serve as a wingmare to anypony who—”
“Wait a sec.” Applejack’s voice faintly drifted in through the doorway behind Twilight. “I think I just got it. Wingmare. Is that why Celestia went and gave you wings like that?”
Twilight stared at the opposite wall of the kitchen for a long, hard minute. “...no. No, of course not.” Shaking her thoughts free, she turned back to Rarity. “Look, one of the wingmare’s responsibilities is to help mediate, and to make sure that both parties get a chance to apologize and offer their side of the story. Now, after you… left, Applejack and I had a minute to talk things over.” She stepped up beside Rarity, placing a leg on her withers. “Applejack would really like to talk things over with you, to clear things up. I know that you must be hurting right now, but do you think you could give her one more chance? To set things right?”
Wordless, Rarity twisted her lips and whimpered, but Twilight held fast with a small smile and nudged her head toward the front door. “I… suppose that she deserves a chance to set the record straight,” she eventually conceded. “Very well, I will speak with her. If you really think it best.”
Twilight nodded and gave Rarity a friendly little hug. “Don’t worry. You two will be fine.” She made her way beside the kitchen table, clearing the path from Rarity to the open doorway. “And I’ll be here,” she said to each of them in turn, “to help both of you through this.”
Rarity stared at the doorway for a moment, too hesitant to step out and confront the mare outside. After a few moments of stalemate, she heard some hoofsteps outside, and then Applejack appeared in the doorframe. Applejack's shoulders sagged, and the smile she wore was one bred of guilty conscious. “Uh… hey again, Rarity.” She swallowed. “Are ya alright?”
“Of course, darling!” Rarity’s answer came far too sudden, as she smiled and waved a hoof. “Honestly now, I’d be disappointed if you thought I was, well, such a delicate flower.” She tried to laugh. It hurt her throat.
Applejack shook her head quickly. “Rarity, c’mon. This whole thing was a mixup, and I got right away to hollerin’, and then when I saw you run off lookin’ like that…” She looked down at the floorboards. “Twi, how did you put it, when we was talkin’ earlier?” With a frown, Applejack looked up.
At the kitchen table, Twilight Sparkle was glaring at her own wings. With furrowed eyebrows, she slowly extended and folded her right wing, studying the way that each feather—
“Twi?”
Twilight spooked, looking around the room wide-eyed until she recognized Applejack again. “What? Sorry I, um, I spaced out for a minute there.” Feeling both sets of eyes on her, she shifted about on her hooves while tilting her head side-to-side. “It’s just, you don’t actually think that that’s the reason Princess Celestia made me a princess, do you?”
Applejack blinked. Twice. “Huh?”
“It’s just that, when it happened, you know? The Princess gave me this big explanation, and she even sang this really beautiful song, about how much I’ve grown, and about my duties, and my destiny.” Twilight spoke volumes through her emphatic hoof gestures, as though she were Istallion. “And I really was thinking that this was supposed to be this celebration of how much I’ve learned and grown, but now I’m starting to wonder if this was all just a setup for some elaborate pun.”
Rarity and Applejack shared a knowing look. Even with how fresh the wound in her heart was, Rarity couldn’t help but smile faintly. “Of course not, dear. In just a brief period of tenure, you’ve proven yourself to be a fantastic princess. Princess Celestia just has an eye for these things, you know.”
“Right.” Twilight nodded, looking back at her wings. “Right.”
Shifting her eyes from Twilight to Rarity, Applejack licked her lips and inhaled. “Anyway, I—”
“It’s just, this really seems like something she’d do. She has a real weakness for wordplay humor, and sometimes I’m not always thinking straight when I’m caught up in the moment, and—”
Applejack cleared her throat. Twilight looked up. “Sugarcube? Maybe you’d feel better if you worked out a checklist.”
“A checklist!” Twilight’s eyes lit up. “Right, of course! I really need to get my thoughts on paper, and… Oh.” She stopped, halfway to the door, and gave a sheepish look back to her friends. “Sorry. I’m supposed to be wingmaring, and—”
“It’s quite alright,” Rarity said, covering her betraying grin with a hoof. “I think Applejack and I can manage on our own.” Nodding, Applejack shooed her along with a hoof.
Twilight nodded back. Giving one more pondering glance to her wings, she spread them and flew out through the doorway. In just a few moments, she was already fading into the distance of the horizon.
Free to lower her hoof, Rarity walked up beside Applejack, staring together through the doorway. “What in the world do you suppose she’s going to write a checklist about?”
“Beats me,” said Applejack. She tipped back the brim of her hat. “I just reckoned that’d be a surefire way to get her outta our manes.”
The pair giggled lightly at the expense of their neurotic friend. The laughter was weak and tepid, compared to the openness of earlier today, but it was something.
“I just didn’t know you felt that way ‘bout me.”
Rarity stopped laughing. She stared open-mouthed at Applejack and her quiet revelation as she quickly tried to collect herself and her thoughts. “I should apologize for that, of course. I mistook your own intentions, and—”
“Wha… No!” A faint tinge of red appeared on Applejack’s cheeks, as her eyes twitched back and forth across Rarity’s features. “No, it’s just… I thought that a little country girl like me… and a big city mare like yourself…”
“Applejack.” Rarity held her breath, fighting to keep her heart from shattering free of her chest. “What are you trying to say?”
She fidgeted on her hooves a moment, before collecting herself and drawing in a deep inhale through her nostrils. “I’m sayin’, well… I’m glad you had a fun time today and all. But next time, when I know it’s a proper date, I’ll be sure to pull out all the stops and treat you right, like you deserve.” The earnest smile that had grown during that sentence vanished at once, and she stammered at the floor. “Wh—I mean, i-if you… If you’ll still—”
“I think I’d like that very much,” Rarity said softly.
Applejack’s eyes met hers, shining with a new light, one that had been hinted and teased for years but not fully realized until this moment now.
And yet, try as she might, she could not avoid the proverbial minotaur in the room, even at the cost of ruining the mood. “But, Applejack,” Rarity started, somewhat reluctantly, “if you felt this way, all this time… the, ah, the altercation, outside, with Twilight?”
Applejack turned her darkened face away. “‘m sorry. I know that that just rightfully spoils an otherwise blue-ribbon day, jes’... jes’ I can’t believe she’d say such a thing!” she said with a light kick of a hoof. “Honestly, what got into that gal?”
“That she inferred you and I were dating?” She frowned a moment before answering her own question. “No, not that. It’s clear now that, well,” she said, sharing a small smile, “our hearts were in the same place all along. Hmm. Was it the fact Twilight insinuated that you and I had shared a kiss?”
Applejack froze.
“I can’t speak for yourself, of course, but for myself personally I could see how an accusation like that, at such an early stage as ours, might infer that we were moving far too fast. An affront to our character, in some sense. But… as for…” It gradually dawned on Rarity that Applejack’s gaze was just south of her own eyes. Grinning coyly, she slowly ran her tongue along her lips, relishing the steam that rose up from Applejack’s face. Rarity, it would seem, had still got it going on. “Applejack.”
“Huh?” Applejack squeaked, snapping back to the present. “No, I mean yes, I mean yes I’d very much like to… like to… but no," she said, clearing her throat. "No, that wasn’t why I snapped at Twi.”
Rarity looked up at the ceiling for a moment. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I’m at a bit of a loss. Please, Applejack.” Stepping forward, she gently nuzzled up alongside Applejack; Applejack locked up—just for a second—before leaning into the embrace and letting out a gentle sigh. “Tell me what the matter is.”
Applejack stood still a moment, relishing the mare by her side, before offering her answer. “Rarity… Twilight said that she wanted you ‘n’ me to… to climb a tree.”
Rarity nodded, full of support and encouragement. Until she realized that there was no followup. “Mmm, yes I see. And this upset you.” She clicked her tongue a few times. “Because?”
Applejack pulled back, staring at Rarity as if she had just suggested that the planet revolved around the sun, rather than the celestial bodies being manipulated by pretty pony princesses.
“Oh,” said Rarity, a touch of chagrin in her voice. “It’s because climbing trees would damage the apples, isn’t it.”
She frowned. “Well, yes, now that y’mention it. But c’mon. Climb. A tree.” She tilted her head at the other mare. “Rarity, you’re not honestly telling me your mother never told you no cautionary tales?”
Rarity blinked back. “About trees.”
“Climbing trees, Rarity!” Applejack grabbed her by the shoulders. “Ain’t you never heard the one about the goat and the timberwolf? The timberwolf chased the goat for miles, ‘til he found a lone tree atop a hill.” Glistening tears welled up in her eyes as she rattled on. “An’ so the goat, he climbed and climbed, and sure ‘nuff he got away from the timberwolf, but what the hay are you supposed ta do when you’re up in a tree? How you supposed ta get down from there? And that’s why all the time you see goats stuck up on toppa trees, Rarity. Cuz you can’t climb down with hooves. They don’t work that way.” She let out a little sob. “They just don’t.”
Rarity had a sobbing, sexy mare nuzzled against her, and therefore the only logical reaction was to hold the mare against her own chest while stroking her mane. All the same, that didn’t stop Rarity’s face from contorting and scrunching. “Yyyes, wwwell… Applejack,” she spoke gently into her ear, “you do realize that that particular Aesop is, how to say, a bit… hamfisted.”
“Dunno what neither them words mean,” Applejack sniffled.
“It’s contrived,” explained Rarity, letting the hoof drift from Applejack’s mane and slowly travel down her back. “Certainly, goats are not as adept in trees as, say, monkeys, but… How do I put this delicately? Goats do not have cutie marks, and I don’t mean that with the same sense of optimism we use with our younger sisters.”
She shook her head. “I-it ain’t just goats, Rarity. It’s… My parents, they…” Biting her lip, Applejack wrapped her hooves tightly around Rarity’s back.
“Oh.” Rarity went wide-eyed, bringing a hoof to her mouth and squeezing Applejack back with the other. “Oh, Applejack, I am so, so sorry. I had no idea.”
“‘s fine.” Applejack nuzzled up against the perfumed curls of Rarity’s mane. “I don’t tell most folks cuz, well, cuz of how shameful it is. For them to have… met that sorta fate.”
Rarity squeezed her closer, until she could feel the mare’s heartbeat against her own breast. “You have worked tirelessly to care for your orchard, and to keep this family together. You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed about.” She felt Applejack give a weak nod against her neck. Sighing, she rubbed her hoof up and down her back, slowly working down to her haunches. “If you don’t mind me asking, how long has it been since your parents… passed away?”
Applejack looked up at her; she looked down at Applejack. They blinked.
Rarity drew a long, loud inhale through her nose. “Applejack.”
“Yes’m?”
“I am going to ask you a very blunt question, but I absolutely need to be certain about this.” She hissed as if physically pained by the words she put forth: “Are. Your parents. Still in that tree?”
Applejack frowned. “I told ya, Rarity. Hooves just don’t work that way.”
“Oh my Celestia, Applejack!” Rarity shouted, throwing her hooves in the air.
She shook her head. “No no, hold up, what’s this nonsense ‘bout them havin’ kicked the bucket?” She turned toward the staircase and hollered, “Hey, Apple Bloom!”
“Leave me alone!” came a muffled reply from upstairs. “I’m busy writin’ my dark broodin’ sonnets.”
“Consarnit! Y’all cut it out with that goth nonsense, little missy.” Applejack stomped her hoof. “That was just s’pposed to be a throwaway gag. Now didja do all your chores?”
“No!” sassed Apple Bloom with a sassy kind of sass. “I’m supposed t’be rebellin’ ‘gainst authority, so I only did half my chores. I watered the termaters while thinkin’ bout death, collected the chicken eggs while reminiscin’ ‘bout the blackness of my heart, went to the east fields to feed Ma and Pa while—”
“You’re feeding them? And yet they are still up there?” Rarity clutched her head with both hooves before it threatened to explode. “Why have you not gotten them down from there?”
Applejack gave her a sour look. “Rarity, ya clearly seem to be missin’ the central point here.”
“Obviously!” she shouted back. But as soon as her vocal chords rang out, she took a deep breath. Focused on a spot in the room, she cleared her mind and counted to ten.
“Uh, Rarity? Is there a reason y’all are starin’ at my flank like that?”
“Gross, get a room, you two,” groaned Apple Bloom from upstairs.
“Hey!” Applejack stomped a hoof. “Respect your elders, little filly!”
“I don’t have to listen to you! You’re not my real Ma! My real Ma is stuck in an an apple tree for the rest of her natural life, and she’s the only one who I gots’ta listen to!”
“Now you look—” Applejack snapped her mouth shut and mumbled. “Wait, I thought she was supposed to be rebelling against authority.”
“Applejack.” Grabbing her face with both forehooves, Rarity turned her around, looking her eye to eye. “I am going to need you to focus for just a minute.”
“Weren’t you just checkin’ me out not more’n five seconds ago?”
“Focus. Now, as I was saying,” Rarity said, pursing her lips and arching an eyebrow, “can we not just get your parents out of the tree?”
“Hooves don’t—”
“What about Twilight?” Rarity spoke over her. “She could use her magic and—”
Applejack shook her head against Rarity’s grip. “No magic on the farm. It’s tradition.”
“Except for the time when she helped you with applebuck season. Or saved your farm from the Flim Flam brothers.”
“Exactly,” said Applejack with a confused little frown on her lips. “Absolutely no magic ‘cept for them two exceptions.”
Huffing, Rarity rolled her eyes. “Fine, what about Rainbow Dash? She could fly up and—”
Applejack snorted. “Yeah. Like I want her lordin’ that over me.”
Rarity scrunched shut her eyelids, gently rubbing them with a hoof to stem her growing migraine. “We could take a ladder, and—”
“Rarity.” She lowered her hoof to see Applejack looking her eye-to-eye. “Y’all ain’t makin’ a lick of sense.”
A dull pain throbbed from behind Rarity’s left eye, followed by a rhythmic twitching of her cheek. Perhaps this was what an aneurysm felt like. But no! Furrowing her eyebrows, she stomped down a hoof and leaned forward, hoping that a gust of wind might blow in through the doorway and dramatically billow her mane. As luck would have it, that’s exactly what happened.
Rarity had one more thing to try.
He was a deep amber stallion, his jaw chiseled and angular. She was a sharp green, with reading glasses and her mane in a pert bun. There was no doubt that these two were Applejack’s parents, between their strong features, the aura of their southern charms, and also the fact that the two of them were sitting on the high branch of a twelve-foot apple tree.
“Well g’evenin’ to ya, little AJ,” said her mother, with the same hospitable smile as if she had an apple pie coming fresh out of the oven for them. Rarity took a small silent prayer that there wasn’t actually an oven in the top boroughs of the tree.
“Evenin’,” scowled Applejack, stomping her way toward the tree. Since she was making a point of stomping with all four hooves, her gait had an awkward, crab-like nature to it.
Her father sized up the crab-Apple before speaking. “What are ya fixin’ t’do thar, missy?”
“I,” shouted Applejack, “am gettin’ y’all outta that there tree!”
“Hooves don’t—”
She turned and flexed her haunches. “By buckin’ ya out.”
Rarity bit her lip, feeling a bead of sweat on her forehead.
Narrowing his eyes, he looked his daughter over, taking fresh stock of her. “What gave you that idea?”
Sharply, Applejack pointed a hoof at a beaming Rarity, who simultaneously flicked her mane from her eyes while wiping the bead of sweat away. “Because this here one bet me ten bits that I couldn’t! And I ain’t the type to back down from a challenge like that.”
Frowning in unison, Applejack’s parents looked to one another. Married for so many years, words were no longer necessary for them to communicate with one another; a series of eye movements, twitches, and grunts said everything that needed to be said. Nodding, he wrapped a hoof around his wife and looked down at Rarity. “We like you, miss. If fer some reason we don’t make it through this…”
“...you and our daughter have our blessing,” finished her mother.
Rarity let out a strained exhale. “I am conflicted.”
“Enough with the regrets and final wishes!” Applejack stepped up to the trunk of the proud tree and assumed the position, guided by years of practiced repetition. “Ma, Pa, you two ready?”
Holding hooves with one another, they nodded. “Applejack, no matter what happens,” said her mother, “we just want you to know that we’re so proud of you.”
A loud resounding thunk echoed through the woods, as Applejack’s hooves connected solid with the truck of the tree, sending a small shockwave up her legs. The upper branches shook and rustled, and the two ponies in the tree leaned and shifted, nearly holding fast. But Ma’s hoof slipped, and as she held fast to Pa, the pair tumbled down toward the earth. They slammed into the ground with a squeak, bounced twice, and came to a gentle rest, sitting up and looking around in confusion.
“Ma! Pa!” With tears in her eyes, Applejack galloped at the pair and leapt into a hug, hooves outstretched. They received her with open forelegs, and the family was once more united.
Her father leaned down to kiss her gently on the forehead. “I’m so proud of you, Applejack. You’ve finally grown and become a woman.”
Applejack’s mother bumped her daughter's shoulder and jerked her head, causing Applejack to look Rarity’s way. The two mares shared a smile—Applejack’s teary-eyed and love-filled, Rarity’s toothy and awkward.
“Ma? Pa? I’m so happy to be with y’all again, but… I owe all this to Rarity here, mah light and mah inspiration.”
“Oh, pish posh.” Rarity tried to wave away the praise. “I’m just glad I was able to talk some sense into her at long last.” She paused before muttering, “And to put this nonsense behind us.”
With a bashful smile, Applejack turned back to her parents. “Would ya mind terribly if you headed back to the house first? I’m sure Granny and Big Mac and Apple Bloom would be delighted to see ya with yer hooves on the ground. Me and Rarity will catch up to ya in…” She blushed. “A minute.”
Sharing a look, Applejack’s parents smiled and nodded. They headed off in the direction of the farmhouse, leaving the two lovebirds alone for a moment.
Applejack looked to Rarity with a warm, budding smile. “Rarity… Thank you. Thank you so much. Words cain’t express how much I love you right now.”
“Applejack?”
“Yeah, Rarity?”
Rarity frowned curtly as the two pegasi took to the air and flew toward the farmhouse. “We need to talk.”
Author's Note
Thanks to GaPJaxie and maskedferret for their editing assistance and moral support! And also thanks to my good friend TreeGoat, for inspiring horsewords against his will.
