That afternoon in the early spring found Applejack within the shade of Blooming Free, among the oldest apple trees at Sweet Apple Acres. Planted as seeds by Granny Smith back when the Apple Family first settled into the region, he now overlooked a bustling homestead and sweeping orchard from atop a grassy knoll. He was the type of tree Granny liked to relax under in her rocking chair. Even the breeze tended to past by in slow reverence. And sometimes Applejack would lay back against his trunk cracked with time, close her eyes, and listen as if Blooming Free might whisper stories only he knew.
But the present occasion was a little different.
For on a recent visit out west to Appleloosa, her kinfolk had surprised Applejack with the cutest little sapling she’d ever laid eyes upon. He was none other than a sprout raised from seeds produced by Bloomberg (a former resident at Sweet Apple Acres)—who was sure to grow into just as strong of a tree. Applejack had even named the little guy on the ride back: Apple Sprout. And she had cradled the tiny potted seedling with as much as a mother might a newborn foal. Furthermore, Granny Smith had even given her the special honor of planting him in the soil, right near Blooming Free himself.
These events brought Applejack to where she sat now before Apple Sprout and an open book, near the end of one tale:
“That’s when the yellow birdie thought to herself, ‘Hmm. My favorite little tree isn’t such a little tree anymore. So she sang her song, big and strong, and they all lived in that great big tree happily ever after. The End’.”
She sniffed and wiped away a tear. “Golly. Wasn’t that nice? You know, Apple Sprout, this used to be your daddy’s favorite story too.”
“Well, I thought it was simply lovely.” This response drifted down from above, making Applejack jerk. For the briefest moment, the thought occurred to her that Blooming Free might have finally decided to break his silence. Then she heard, “The part where the yellow birdie had trouble finding her friend during the winter storm was especially touching. Although, the opening could have had more chaos.”
Nope. Only one pony in the wide world of Equestria would say something like that, in such a teasing manner.
“Howdy, Discord,” Applejack said, closing the book and looking up to sight the draconequus perched along one of the lower branches on Blooming Free. Or, at least, his torso was. The rest of his long, serpentine form curled about the trunk. The smirk on his face mingled with the light-hearted amusement and mischief in his eyes. In fact, he looked surprisingly merry.
Hmm. Merry. There was a term she had never quite connected with Discord before.
“Good afternoon, my dear Applejack,” Discord answered, creating a hat similar to hers to tip in greeting. “Do you read to trees every day around this time?” His smirk widened.
“Not every day.” Applejack returned the gesture. “But can I ask what you’re doing over here at Sweet Apple Acres, and what you’re doing in Blooming Free?”
“Blooming Free?” Discord asked. A question mark popped above his head.
“That tree.” Applejack indicated his perching place with a hoof.
“Ah! I see.” Discord considered Blooming Free again, as if seeing the tree anew. “Pardon me.” He slithered down the tree trunk (tail first) until he was a coiled mass at the bottom—before springing upwards onto his feet with a subtle spoing. “Can’t I take a moment to stop by and say hi to one of my best pals?” he went on, clasping his lion paw and eagle claw together, all innocence.
“All right, then. It was nice to greet you,” Applejack said. She grabbed a nearby water pail and began to sprinkle the contents over Apple Sprout. Her small charge danced amid the moisture, which sparkled when caught in the sunlight filtered through Blooming Free’s leaves. Meanwhile, the shadow of Discord hovered off to one side—twitching more and more frequently in the ensuing lull.
The silence stretched between them, like the cord of a fiddle strained further than its limits allowed.
That is, until the cord snapped.
“Okay, okay,” Discord burst out, rubbing his neck with a hint of sheepishness. “Even though your company is reason enough, I did come here because sweet Fluttershy asked me to pick up an apple pie from Sweet Apple Acres for our tea party today.”
Ah. So that was it. The request was certainly simpler than expected (not that a pony ever knew what to expect from the lord of chaos). On the other hoof, perhaps Fluttershy counted as a complicated matter to Discord. With his confession, a certain nervousness seemed to overcome him. He slumped a bit and peered around as if to defray some of the tension.
Why did he appear so vulnerable, after being forced to tell the truth? It should have made him feel better.
Perhaps, Applejack considered, this was because he was more comfortable around Fluttershy than her.
Hmm.
“Fluttershy insisted, although I did think of just creating one with magic,” Discord pressed on, adopting a jesting air. Yet Applejack couldn’t help gasping in horror. There were just some things a pony shouldn’t joke about.
“Well Fluttershy is right! Making an apple pie with your magic isn’t anywhere near the same as a homemade apple pie put together with love from our farm. The time and effort that goes into each one is important.” Halfway through this sentence, memories from baking said pies moved through Applejack’s mind. The littlest things had a way of doing this—filling her with pride like apple cider in a barrel. She could almost hear the kitchen pans clanging against one another, or the laughter shared alongside Granny Smith, Big Mac, and Apple Bloom. “Yeeup. That’s what makes our pies the best in Equestria, and probably in the lands beyond as well.”
“And here you accuse me of making no sense.” Discord popped Applejack’s reverie with a talon. “In any case, there you have it. I came for pie, and to see what you were doing.” At this, he leaned over on the tips of his lizard claw and goat hoof, staring down at Apple Sprout. “Which appears to be gardening, in addition to storytelling.”
Apple Sprout swayed in the breeze, as if waving at him.
“You might call it that,” Applejack replied. “Actually, I’m helping Apple Sprout adjust to his new home so he can grow big and strong.”
“No offense, Applejack, but that is something which will take too long,” Discord said. “This sapling is so tiny right now some pony could easily trample the thing underhoof.” He paused. “Why are you looking at me so accusingly?” The concern prickling Applejack at his comment must have shone through, though the most she was aware of was a raised eyebrow. In the face of it, Discord threw up his lion paw and eagle claw as if ready to fend off any oncoming accusations. “I didn’t mean literally, for once. I only meant it will take forever for this sprout to grow up.”
“Not forever. Apple Sprout will grow to full size in a few years.” Applejack smiled at her sapling, only to notice Discord staring at them both.
“A few years?” Discord shook his head. Despite it all, the incredibility apparent there took Applejack aback. Before she could say anything, though, his eyes brightened. He flew up. “Then it’s lucky for you I happened to stop by, my dear.” He hovered over Apple Sprout, reached out an eagle claw, and extended his talons. “A simple snap, and you will have that full-grown apple tree. I can even make it larger than this Glooming Birch over here.” He gave Blooming Free a dismissive wave of his lion paw, which Applejack might have commented on if Apple Sprout were not in danger. “There’s no need to thank me.”
Dread pierced Applejack like a red-hot poker.
“Leave him alone!” The lasso was out, roped around Discord’s wrist, and had yanked it to the side before Applejack could register having done anything. This had been an automatic reaction, trained by years of rodeos and wrangling critters in the orchard (but shocking nonetheless). She blinked once or twice before glancing at Discord, whose expression probably matched her own. Then there came the characteristic pinging sound of his magic, misdirected. Gazing in its direction, the pair glimpsed a giant hog standing over in the pig pen. The other, normal-sized pigs shot to the far corner of their enclosure. However, the one affected the most had to be Big Mac—frozen in his tracks with the bucket of slop he’d been carrying to the pigsty dangling from his open jaw.
Her big brother’s ears fell back. And the hog, sighting his lunch, squealed in delight and stepped over the fence.
“Noooope!” Big Mac cried out, running for the hills with the enormous swine in hot pursuit. All the while, he held onto the bucket of food valiantly. “Nope, nope, nope. Heeeeeellllp!”
“What an extraordinary sight,” Discord mused aloud, breaking their dazed stupor. “I had no idea your brother could say more than two words.”
“Discord.” Applejack prodded him in the side with a hoof, which helped to bring Discord back to the situation at hoof.
“Oops.” Discord chuckled nervously. “Let me fix—ow!” He rubbed his wrist, where the lasso had left a deep red mark that was hopefully nothing worse than a rope burn. Guilt dug sharp claws into Applejack as Discord snapped the white fluff on his tail instead, shrinking the pig to his correct size right when he was about to overtake Big Mac.
Her brother tripped with a cry, stopping short at the sight of a normal pig munching on the spilled slop.
“All right,” Discord said then. “I know you’re probably upset about the pig and—” Applejack turned to him and he trailed off, the beginnings of a smirk disrupted. And when she gazed at the injury on his claw, he quickly stuck the entire arm behind his back like this would make it easier to forget.
But Applejack couldn’t. “Gosh, Discord. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” Shame trickled down her spine. This was what she got for acting without thinking, even if it had been instinct that had kicked in. “Are you okay there?”
“Oh, this is nothing,” Discord insisted with a slight wince, though whether this was because of the burn or her stare was unclear. He gave a dry chuckle. “It’ll be gone before we know it.”
“Nope.” Applejack reached up and slipped the hat off her head, turning it over to expose a small first aid kit strapped to the underside. She didn’t always carry one in her hat like this, yet over the years she had found having one on hoof was a blessing around the farm. “Let me see your wrist.”
“It’s really—” Discord began.
“Come on.”
“You don’t under—”
“Now,” Applejack stressed, and for several seconds they stared each other down. She could see herself in his widened eyes, determined yet guilt-ridden. But this was just what lay on the surface. Seen for a longer span of time, and at such a close range, his eyes suddenly seemed much deeper. Perhaps the best way to describe it would have been like peering down a tunnel of trees: vast, deep, and ancient. If Blooming Free had had eyes, perhaps they would have been like these—of an observer of the ages without any pony to tell for the longest time.
This thought was so surprising that Applejack might have broken eye contact. Fortunately, Discord was the one who tired first and blinked.
“Very well. As you wish,” Discord huffed with a hint of irritation, shattering the spell. Despite this, it took Applejack a few heartbeats to readjust to the situation at hoof, or even to see the eagle claw held out for her. A deep sigh of relief escaped her throat. Even though it was a fair rope burn, it only needed some lotion and a bandage. So she set to work, smearing on the lotion. Meanwhile, from the corner of her own eye, Applejack could see a question forming on the tip of Discord’s tongue. But he kept sucking the line back in (which was quite a sight).
Then Applejack began wrapping the bandage around his eagle claw, gently and slowly.
At last:
“This wouldn’t have happened if you’d let me turn that sprout into a tree,” Discord commented. “Why did you have to stop me anyway?” He motioned to Apple Sprout with his lion paw. “I thought you would appreciate the help.” Now he looked hurt again, albeit for a much different reason.
“Of course, I do,” Applejack answered. “It means a heap of a lot that you would try to help, but Apple Sprout needs to grow in the natural way.”
“You mean for months and years? It’ll take years for the tree to even start to bear fruit.”
“Yep.”
“And you’re okay with that, even if I could speed up the process a skosh?” Discord asked, still doubtful. “I mean, then you’d get apples sooner. You wouldn’t have to spend ages watering and protecting ‘Apple Sprout’ until it can produce anything.”
Applejack laughed. “Discord, you’re looking at this the wrong way.”
“Oh?” Discord’s brows shot up. “So what is the right way to look at this? You are the apple expert, after all.”
“Being a true apple farmer isn’t about quantity, or trying to get as many apples as you can as quickly as possible.” Applejack gazed upon the orchard spread before them, choosing each sentence with the same care she did while sorting through the harvest. “It’s important to have enough to keep business afloat, of course. But the real secret is tenderness and care. We don’t see apples only as a business or means of survival. They’re a gift to ponies from the earth that the Apple Family has the good fortune to help deliver.” She moved a hoof through the soil, cool and fertile. “Apple trees are alive. They’re quiet, kind, and have so much to offer. During the rainfall, their leafy branches offer protection, and on a sunny day, shade.” Here she gave a head nod to Blooming Free. “Because of this, we’re grateful to them. We treat them and what they give us with respect.”
There was a slight pause.
“A little like some ponies,” Discord commented wistfully. “The quiet and kind types, I mean.” He was staring out in another direction, toward where a certain cottage stood close to the Everfree Forest. Yet he also rubbed the bandaged wrist.
“Exactly,” Applejack said. “So we strive to help the trees in the same ways they help us. Nothing feels better than seeing them bear fruit after so much hard work and effort. Even though the amount of time is a challenge at times, in the end the wait is always worthwhile. And you wind up enjoying something earned much more than if you got the results right away.”
“Perhaps.”
“That’s true of other things as well. For example, think about the friendships forged with our closest friends.” Applejack removed her hat, replacing the medical kit within. Then she drew out a photograph kept along the inside lining. This contained a group shot of all her friends a little while after Twilight had first come to Ponyville. “It took us a while to get to know each other. Along the way we had too many adventures to count and made about as many mistakes. However, those experiences are what made us so strong and tight-knit today. Don’t you think so?”
Discord peered down at the photograph, studying it beside Applejack. “I believe I have to agree with you, Applejack,” he answered, thoughtfulness giving way a straight grin, without any hint of mischief at all. “Fine. You’ve convinced me.” Going to the sapling, Discord brought his head down close to Apple Sprout and whispered, “Apple Sprout, take your time to grow. Take years if you want. And when you grow up, make the sweetest apples on this farm.”
“Thank you.” Applejack nodded, glad they had reached an understanding—at which point a thought struck her, and she leapt up. “Oh, that’s right! You came here to get a pie.”
Soon afterwards, they both stood near the entrance to Sweet Apple Acres. And Discord held a steaming apple pie, preparing to leave.
“We’ll have to do this again sometime,” Discord said. “It was interesting. I could use a bit more of your country wisdom from time to time. Besides which, you truly did put a lot of energy into that storytelling session.”
This reminder made Applejack laugh. “Just don’t forget that you can come anytime, given it is appropriate. I think Blooming Free and Apple Sprout liked your company.”
“Perhaps I will,” Discord returned. “I might even share a few stories of my own for them.” He winked at her. “Now I’d better be on my way, or else Fluttershy will get worried what has become of me.” There was a moment where Applejack believed Discord might vanish in his usual flash of light. But instead, he shot a glance around Sweet Apple Acres and started to walk off along the trail stretching away from it. “It’s a nice day for a walk,” he murmured.
“Yep.”
***
When Discord was out of sight from Sweet Apple Acres, he tugged off the bandage around his wrist. If Fluttershy saw it, after all, she would become frantic. The claw underneath was magically back to normal, without a mark left in sight.
Applejack hadn’t realized, even towards the end. Still, that was fine.
There were more important things to consider. He sniffed the pie.
It smelled delicious.
So Discord continued on his way, whistling a cheery tune.
Author's Note
Hope you liked it, and that there were not too many flaws. ;3
Update [5/30/2015]: I decided to revise some parts of this story, in an effort to show more than tell. Hopefully it came off well.
