Gilda & Big Mac’s Eggcellent Adventure

"This is a fine mess you've gotten yourself into, Big Macintosh Apple!" For the third time, Applejack's hat angrily smacked her brother upside his thick head. Maybe, the big lummox would finally gain an ounce of sense, but she doubted it.

Applejack liked to think of herself as the level-headed one, the practical member of her circle of friends, the mare who cut through all the crazy with sage advice and country wisdom.

But even she had her limits.

After taking one look at the griffon and her absurdly hued egg, the mare had dragged Macintosh upstairs by his ear. At first she hadn't been able to form coherent words, stomping around her cowering brother spouting "You–", "Why–" and "Uggh–" Then came the swearing, language so hot and foul Applejack half-expected her brother's ears to ignite and fall to the floor in twin piles of shame-filled ash.

Finally she had to stop, if only to catch her breath. "Well," she gasped, "go on. What have you got to say for yerself?"

Big Mac mumbled something into the floor.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear that. I must have applesauce cloggin' my ears, or on account of you whimperin’ like a little foal."

"I-I was drunk," he muttered.

She scowled at him. "Care to repeat that?"

"I… I was drunk, AJ."

Applejack throw up her hooves in the air. "Oh! You were drunk? Well that excuses everythin’, now don't it? I better watch the hooch when Celestia comes to town, or we're gonna wind up with one really odd family reunion next year! How could you let this happen?"

"T'weren't my fault." He lifted his head to defend himself. "Wasn't even heat season at the time. You know I'm more careful than that."

"Dagnabit, Mac! This just ain't the Apple Way, and you know it! Gettin' liquored up and and dancin’ The Dirty Do-si-do with a griffon! Now who's gonna tend the fields when we're old?!"

"Umm... the kid?"

"What? A flighty cloudhopper? It'd be like handing the farm over to Dash!"

Her brother frowned. "That's kinda racist talk, AJ."

"Racist?" She flushed in outrage at the completely unwarranted accusation. "Of all the... I ain't never..." Her mouth worked up and down a few more times before she deflated. "Yeah… I reckon you're right, but this ain't the plan. We're supposed to meet nice ponies, have kids, and they inherit the farm."

"Your plan, you mean, AJ."

"Somepony has to think of the farm, Mac! May as well be me! Ponyfeathers, even if you didn't get hitched with a pony I'd be fine with your choice, I guess." She shook her head in disbelief at her brother's taste in bedmates. "But Gilda? Really? That griffon's ten pounds of trouble in a two pound bag. Got all the manners of an ornery skunk with the temper of a ticked-off rattlesnake to boot. Didn't I tell you what happened the last time she was here?"

"You can't expect me to remember every little incident with your friends, AJ. I got my own life. I hadn't even met the girl 'til that night at the bar." He let out of heavy sigh. "'Sides, I weren't thinkin' with my head at the time."

That got a snort. "You were thinkin' with your head all right," she scoffed. "Just not the one holdin' your common sense." Applejack turned away with a click of her tongue. "Now I got clean up your mess. No brother of mine gettin' roped into a shotgun marriage with the likes of her. Uh-uh, no way."

"But, AJ—"

"Up-up," Applejack raised a hoof, forestalling any argument. "I don't wanna hear it, Macintosh. Now you just keep your trap shut and follow my lead."

When they returned to the living room, the egg-carrier had transformed into a makeshift nest on the floor, Gilda resting comfortably on top of the egg. Granny Smith rocked in her rocking chair, looking please as punch. Apple Bloom had arrived from the kitchen with a mug of cider and was in a deep discussion with their 'guest.'

"So you're a griffon. That's pretty neat."

Gilda took a gulp of her cider. "Coolest species on the planet, sprout."

"So…" Apple Bloom inquired, gesturing to the egg sitting comfortably on a warming cushion under its mother. "Is it a filly or a colt?".

"Won't know until it hatches, and we call them cubs or chicks."

"Huh... does this mean I'm an aunt now?"

Gilda shrugged her wings. "Looks like it, kid."

"Hmm… I wonder what an aunt cutie mark would look like."

"Couldn't tell you. Griffons don't get cutie marks. Some of us do get tattoos though. That's pretty much the same thing, but better 'cause you get to decide what it looks like for yourself."

Apple Bloom rubbed her chin. "A tattoo, huh..."

Applejack hardly spared her a glance as she marched right up to the griffon. She was going to nip this whole situation right in the bud.

"Now listen here, Gilda. I apologize for Macintosh's behavior, but you ain't gonna marry him. We'll take care of Big Mac's child as a family," she stated firmly, wrapping one arm around her brother's broad shoulders and pulling Apple Bloom close with the other.

Gilda glanced at the assembled family portrait for a moment then jumped to her paws with growl. "Oh, so that's what's going on here, huh? And here I thought you were a stand-up guy. Guess I was wrong… like always." she snarled at Big Macintosh. "Now I've got to slice you open."

Applejack jumped in front of her brother, who'd turned white. "Woah there! What the Sam Hill are you on about?"

"Sorry, Freckles. It's a Griffon thing. We kinda take the whole mating for life thing real seriously. A husband cheating on his wife is a big no-no. But lucky us, now we get to split the sorry sucker between us and leave the rest for the vultures." Her talons extended with a loud shink.

"So," Gilda wore a savage grin, "Which half you want? Heads or tails?"

Big Mac's jaw flapped open like a barn door, but Applejack's eyes just about popped clear out of her head. "What?"

Talons stayed out for a moment then retracted as Gilda laughed. "Of course not, you dweebs! Geez, the look on your faces!" Gilda wiped away a tear. "By the Cat Mother, you ponies don't know jack about us. We stopped doing that sort of thing ourselves ages ago." Then she turned to the still white-faced stallion, all mirth dropping from her voice. "I'm still pissed you used me to cheat on your wife, Red." The talons came back out. "So I'm takin' back that solid I did ya last time we met. Which leg do you want broken? I'll even let you choose. Front, back, left, right. Whatever's good for you."

"Now, now," came Granny's drawl from her rocking chair. "Everypony just calm your breeches. No need to dirty up my floor. Blood stains are darned hard to clean and all. Now, Miss Gilda, don't mind my granddaughter. Truth is Big Mac and Applejack are brother and sister."

Gilda raised an eyebrow. "...Wow." She took a step back and looked between them and Apple Bloom. "Umm... I mean I knew this town was backwoods, but… just wow."

Words failed Applejack. Although her jaw was working as if she were talking, she was absolutely silent except for the steam coming out of her ears.

Her grandmother, however, was taking events far more humorously than either of her grandchildren, and rolled her eyes at the comment. "Land sakes, we ain't that countrified! Now you young'uns play nice. I got to write ol' cousin Apple Rose. Looks I get to brag about me landing a great-grandchild first. Boy howdy, she's gonna be more jealous than the last pig at the trough at sloppin' time!"

A heavy stomp, and Applejack put a stop to her granny's foolishness. "Wait an apple-pickin' minute! This here's the griffon that put Mac in the hospital! We ain't heard a peep from her once durin' all that time, or the time after. Now she just waltzes in here and turns our whole life upside-down without so much as a how do you do, and you're just gonna sit there and accept it?" She snorted and fixed Gilda with a fierce glare. "We only got your word that's Mac's egg. And we both know how much your word is worth 'round here."

Faster than she could blink, Gilda was butting heads with her, the griffon's talons at her neck.

"You calling me a slu-" Gilda glanced at the filly in the room and seemed to bite back what she wanted to say. "You know what?" She backed off, claws retracted. "You're not worth it. I did what I came here to do. I'm outta here."

Gilda secured her precious cargo onto her back, turned around, "I knew I shouldn't have wasted my time coming here! Tch, you ponies really are all the same," and slammed the door shut on her way out.

It took a moment for Big Mac to wake up and charge after her, calling for Gilda to wait.

"Welp. Good riddance to bad rubbish." Applejack nodded, picking up a stray feather and tossing it into a wastepaper basket.

"Applejack Tangerine Apple." Granny's voice froze her granddaughter to the spot. "Apple Bloom, go play with your friends. Me and your sister need to have a… discussion."

        "Gilda, wait!" She was crouched for takeoff when his voice reached him.

        "We don't really have anything to talk about, Red."

        He stopped in front of her before she could get airborne and remained blocking her path as she shifted her weight from side to side. "Look, I'm sorry 'bout my sister. She just gets real crazy sometimes when it comes to family. Just give me a chance to talk to you," he pleaded.

        She considered just taking off, but his quivering snout looked so pathetic that she decided to give him one chance. "Talk fast," she said with a sigh.

"Err…" Big Mac opened and closed his mouth several times, reminding Gilda of freshly caught trout. His hooves nervously twinned around each other. "Uh, well… H-how you been?"

        "Pregnant. You try pushing a watermelon through a keyhole. That's how I've been!" She scowled. "I was bowlegged for a week after that."

        Macintosh looked briefly at the sky then took a deep breath before speaking again. "Look, Gilda. Again, I'm real sorry for the way AJ acted."

        She shrugged. "No skin off my beak, dude. Not the first time a pony's treated me like crap, and it won't be the last."

        "Can I ask you a question?" He got a nod. "How about we get married?"

        Gilda pursed her beak. "Alright, that really wasn't what I expected," she admitted, scratching the back of her neck. She let out surprised chirp when he took a knee and grasped her claws in his hooves.

        "Gilda, I want to do the right thing here. I want to be there for you and our kid. If you stay, I can support us. I give you my word as an Apple, and no true Apple breaks their word.

        She felt her cheeks heat up, probably the warmth from the his hooves. It felt comfortable... Gilda abruptly pulled away, shaking her head sadly. "D-dude… Err… Listen, it's cool you want to do the right thing...really cool," she muttered under her breath. "But it would never work out. Griffons mate for life, and a kid really isn't the best reason to get hitched. Our language didn't even have a word for divorce until we met you ponies." She hesitated, but then offered a comforting, if uncertain, pat on his shoulder. "I-I'm sorry, Red."

        He shrugged off her touch and just stared at her. "So that's it? You come all the way here, tell me I'm a father, then just go back to the Griffon Kingdom, and I never get to see my kid? What was the darned point of even telling me then?!"

        She sighed again at his droopy ears. Ponies could rip your heart out using nothing but their eyes sometimes. That's how they got to you. "Listen, I don't exactly have a rep for doing the right thing all the time, but even I know you at least got a right to know if you've got a kid out there. I didn't mean for this to happen."

        "Then why did you get together with me if you knew you were in season?" he shouted.

        "Dude, why do you think I was in Las Pegasus?" she shot back. "Answer: Duh, next to no griffons hangout there, and I told you, I'm not into ponies. Normally."

The stallion just rolled his eyes. "You didn't seem to mind when you dragged me back to your place," he snorted.

"Maybe you shouldn't have sent me all right signals!"

"Signals?"

Now it was her turn to roll her eyes. "How do you ponies make it through the day without getting eaten? You guys never know anything! One," she counted off on her talons, "You didn't back down when I got my claws out. Two: You challenged me to a fight. Three: You almost won."

"Only 'cause you cheated," he huffed.

"Oh, get over it, Red. If you aren't cheating, you're not trying. It doesn't matter anyway. You're little gutsy show was enough strike my match. You try that back home, and you'd be swarmed, stud. A guy doesn't have to win, he just has to prove he's tough enough to survive. Besides, the chances of a pony and griffon knocking the other up without magic is like one in a thousand." That flirty smirk came back. "Either that or you've got some powerful swimmers."

Big Macintosh stood up. "You sure there's nothing I can say to make you change your mind 'bout staying?"

She answered with a shake of her head, "I'm sorry, Red. I know I don't look like a girl who's into all that mushy romance garbage, but… Yeah, I don't want to be with someone who's only around because he thinks he has to be."

"You want someone who wants to be with you."

Gilda smiled. Maybe he did get it. After all, Gilda had figured out that nobody fit that impossible criteria years ago. "Yeah, pretty much."

"I could learn," he offered, his body leaning closer and placing a hoof on her shoulder.

She looked into his eyes, so green, so earnest. She could smell his breath. Fresh mint. Her mind flashed back to that last night… She abruptly shoved him away to land on his behind. "No! Look, dude. It's not gonna happen. I'll send you some pictures after the kid hatches."

 Seeing her get ready to launch again, he scrambled to his hooves. "Wait! Just one last favor, then I'll let you go."

She took a moment to think about it. "...Fine. But it better be quick."

"It'll be fast," he assured her. "I just want us to visit my parents so they can meet their grandchild at least once. They’re just on the other side of the orchard," he said, trotting off. After a moment, she checked her straps and strolled after him.

If the stallion expected the winding path through the trees to tire Gilda out and force her to stay the night, he was going to be disappointed. Even for a hen who'd just dropped a watermelon of an egg, she was in excellent shape. In fact, she wished he would hurry up. It felt like every few steps, Mac would stop and point out some feature of the orchard he was so proud of.

Having spent most of her time in cities, Gilda found herself a little unnerved by the placid calm of Sweet Apple Acres. She'd spent most of her time surrounded by the hustle and bustle of busy griffon eyries or crowded pony taverns. Here, surrounded by the warm, crisp scent of ripening apples that was carried on the fall breeze, the stillness seemed oppressive.

When they arrived in the clearing, she had expected to find a small cottage or something. Not for the farmer to walk up and start talking to a pair of large apple trees.

"Ma. Pa. It's me, Macintosh. I want to introduce you to Gilda. Gilda, this here's my ma and pa."

"By the skies, I slept with a nutjob this time," Gilda muttered while she watched the stallion rub the trees lovingly. Plastering on a glass smile, she slowly backed away. "Well, nice meeting your, um... 'parents', Red, but I've got a thermal to catch, so—"

"You mind at least showing some respect at my parents' grave?" That stopped her short. He gestured to the plaques mounted on each trunk. Each was marked with a name and dates. "It's what they wanted. To be part of the orchard. So we planted the trees where we buried 'em. Not usually a good idea to plant trees so close together, but Ma and Pa seem fine."

He was right. Gilda hadn't noticed before, but the old trees seemed to be growing into each other. Branches conjoined, and roots intertwined like lovers on a fall evening.

Gilda was the least romantic person that she knew, but right now she felt like an intruder peeking in on a private moment.

"Do me a favor and just put down the egg for a sec," he said. As she undid the backpack and placed the egg in a divot that he pointed out among the roots, an apple fell on her head. "Looks like they like you," he quipped, a shy grin hidden behind a large hoof.

She scowled and picked up the offending piece of fruit. She didn't know what type of apple, but it was huge, with streaks of yellow breaking up the red skin. Gilda inspected it for blemishes or any bonus worms(worms were good eating) before tearing into its flesh. Immediately, sweet-tart juice flooded her beak. So much, some dripped onto the ground. In seconds, it disappeared down her gullet, seeds and all, leaving her claws and beak sticky.

"Dude! That was the best apple I've ever tasted… What are you doing?"

Eyes shut, the earth pony stood on his hindlegs with his front hooves pressed against the shared roots surrounding the egg.

Macintosh breathed out heavily, sweaty, and offered a tired smile. "It's an Apple all right."

She sniffed derisively. "You thought I was lying too, huh? Figures."

He shook his head. "Eenope."

Earth pony magic. She'd heard of it, but it was the first she'd ever seen it in person, and her respect for the farmer went up a notch.

"I was only a colt when they died. Apple Bloom was just a baby, and Applejack is only a few years younger than me, so I knew 'em the longest. Granny did her best, but it was hard." He kept her back to her, and she watched as he drew a line down the bark of his father's trunk.

Father? Oh, Niflheim! The crazy is contagious. Time to say my goodbyes.

"Red…"

He turned around, and her heart caught in her throat at the trail of tears watering the trees. "I don't want my kid to go through what I did. I want them to know both their ma and pa. I want to hold them, teach them value of the soil. It don't matter to me if they got wings or not." He went down to his knees. "Just give me a chance to prove we can work."

Gilda couldn't help but stare at him. Was this really the tough as brick pony who'd fought her to standstill? This whimpering sack of tears? It was pathetic. She wasn't prone to guilt, but if she simply left him here, she had a feeling his morose face would haunt her. And bringing her to his parents' grave? That was just plain cheating! Oh. Right. Damned if he didn't learn fast.

Finally, she had enough, and, hauling him back upright by his shoulders, she acquiesced. "Okay, okay! Geez, stop your bawling, dweeb! You're getting my feathers wet. I'll stay for a while, alright?"

He looked up, a sliver of hope entered his voice. "You will?"

She held up a claw. "Look, in about a month and a half, I got a gig in Manehatten. I was gonna drop the egg off at my parents until it was over, then go back to finish the hatching. Instead, I guess I could hang around here."

"That's not a lot of time," he grumbled

"Well, too bad. That's all you're getting," she said with a shrug. "I'm warning you now, though. I'm more than you can handle, Red. And don't get any funny ideas. I'd hate to put you in the hospital again." A warm hoof clasped her claw again. He wore a confident smile, and that damned dangerous sparkle was back in his eyes.

"If we can be a family, I'll take my chances," he said. Her cheeks reddened as he let go. "You weren't serious before about eating me, right?"

"Don't be stupid. We don't eat ponies anymore. That's barbaric! We have lawyers for that kind of thing now."

"And that's less barbaric?"

"Totally. They take care of the eating for us," she said as she strapped the egg back in place. "I don't think your sis is going to be too keen on me staying here, and I didn't exactly bring enough bits to pay for a hotel."

"Don't worry 'bout AJ. I'll take care of her."

Gilda smirked, flexing her talons. "I didn't say I was worried about her, more for her."

"Just let me talk to her," Big Mac said quickly. "She's got a lot of friends and it'd go easier for us if you were nice to her."

She just rolled her eyes. "Don't know if you haven't noticed, Red, but I don't do nice. When ponies find out we're dating, I doubt it's gonna be pretty."

He sniffed. "Don't you worry your pretty head about that, beautiful. I've lived in Ponyville my whole life. All we got to do is be careful and only tell folks we trust. Let the news trickle out nice and slow. As long as the whole town don't find out all at once, we'll be fine." He wrapped a reassuring leg around her neck. "Trust me."

"Here's your coffee, Cheerilee! Vanilla, two sugars and a touch of cream. Just the way you like it! And a strawberry danish!" Pinkie said, passing over the pastry and cardboard cup to the teacher. "And where are you off to on this fine fall Friday?"

Cheerilee took a sip of her coffee and smiled. "Oh, just a nice relaxing stroll to Sweet Apple Acres. Apple Bloom forgot her mathbook so I thought I'd drop it off."

"Well, you know, being an Apple and all, she probably doesn't need it," Pinkie said while wiping the counter."

"And why's that, Pinkie?"

"Because they already know all about pie, silly!"

Cheerilee snorted a giggle. "That's terrible, Pinkie!"

"Yes it is! They can't all be winners, ya know!" Pinkie waved as the teacher left.

A few minutes later, Pinkie was rearranging the pastry case when a strange feeling overcame her nose.

A Pink feeling.

She sniffed the air, eyes narrowing. In a low growl, "I smell… trouble." Then in a chirper tone, "and maybe a wedding!" Growl, "but still trouble… Trouble and a wedding."

"Pinkie, be a dear and help me take these cakes out of the oven, please," came a voice from the kitchen.

Chipper again. "Sure thing, Mrs Cake. Tralalalala!"