Of Caramel Apples
Here’s a little story about romance.
A lot of ponies considered romance a simple thing. A stallion gets the notion in his head to ask a mare on a date, and either they hit it off or they don’t. It's all a simple science, really. There was neither rhyme nor reason to it, so far as most stallions saw. This misconception was, of course, wrong.
It was sometime in late spring when Applejack decided on the stallion she wanted. She'd taken her time, of course. Any smart mare knew how to pick well, and the patient hunter bags the best prey. After months of searching and considering potential candidates, she finally settled on a young stallion named Caramel to be the sire of her foals.
Stallions often assumed that it was them that chose who they would mate with and when. They were the ones asking, after all. What they didn’t understand was that this decision of theirs had been decided on long before the idea even entered their heads. All the subtle clues and insignificant details that would elude a stallion had their meaning, a strong presence in the outcome that few would ever notice. The subtle game of life was played by its strings.
With a quick word to her friends and a deal with Rainbow Dash not to look too hard at Thunderlane, Applejack quite suddenly became the only mare in all of Ponyville willing to give Caramel any romantic interest. Just like that, every other mare in the entire village was either too busy for him or simply had their eyes elsewhere. After all, they had their own stallions to keep them busy, and a quick invisible hoofshake behind closed doors made the process that much smoother.
Every day, the young stallion would walk through the market, only able to buy groceries from the stallions that worked there, the mares giving him hard bargains and cold shoulders. He’d often feel let down, depressed even. Since when did he upset the mares so much that they wouldn’t look at him? Was he somehow unattractive or was he really just that much of a jerk? No matter how much he persisted, no matter how he persevered, the result was always the same.
All the mares ignored him, save for one.
“Howdy, Caramel!” Applejack would say, polishing yet another apple on her market stand. Her hair would be tied back in its usual braid, her hat slung oh so carelessly. She would have that warm glow about her that could make any stallion’s knees buckle.
“H-hello, Applejack,” Caramel would reply, trying not to let the nervousness into his voice. Like any other stallion in his place, he’d have a hard time not sweating. “I’d like a dozen golden delicious, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, Sugarcube!” She'd hand him the bag with a wink, meeting his eyes for just a moment longer than needed.
And like that, he’d grow to find the mare more and more interesting. Maybe it was the way she smiled at him, or that unassuming way she’d flick her mane. The scent of apples would mix nicely with the small amounts of perfume she wore, and her hair would be entirely free of stray hairs, a careful moment in the sunlight letting its brilliant rays shine through. Caramel couldn’t help but look at her.
Her name would come up in idle conversation. The few times the other mares in town would talk to him (most being already taken, mind you), they'd often mention some good feature of the Apple family or of Applejack herself. No mare would be foolish enough to miss the hints, but stallions tended to have a much more direct approach to things. The more he'd learn, the more he'd find himself seeing her in a new light.
Eventually this would grow. He’d find himself looking harder, spending more time with his eyes on her, thinking about her, judging her. Every time she’d do something, it would be in a new light in his eye.
"I'm telling you, Thunderlane, she's beautiful!" Caramel would say, taking another shot at the line of pins down his lane. The ball would knock over most of the pins, ensuring a spare.
Thunderlane would have his own ball at the ready, taking his time before giving it the twist that would inevitably lead to a strike. Caramel would cringe afterwards, much like every other time they'd played since they were foals.
"I think it's fate, buddy," Thunderlane would say. Caramel tried not to roll his eyes; he was never much of a religious stallion.
"How could you possibly know that?" he'd ask.
"Tell me this, Caramel, how many mares in this town have given you the cold shoulder?"
"All of them."
"All of them but one." Thunderlane would wink. "Do you really believe that it's any coincidence that the one mare that pays you any mind would happen be so hot? That's not chance."
"I suppose you're right, Thunder."
"Of course I'm right!" he'd say, smirking. "Who was first in our class?"
"You."
"Exactly. Now go out there and ask her out before some other stallion gets there first."
And with that, a stallion made his decision. A bit more certain of himself, he paid more attention to the apple mare, watching her every move. And just like any mare, she noticed. It was probably around the third time her tail ‘accidentally’ flicked aside, giving him a quick glance at the fruits he would one day come to love that he decided to ask her on a date.
She of course accepted.
As the summers drifted by and his foals played with those rainbow maned foals of his friend Thunderlane’s, he’d look happily at his wife, glad that he’d found such a catch all on his own. He’d live through his life thinking that he’d won, that the small victories in the forms of his children and eventual grandchildren were entirely of his making. And there Applejack would watch, smug in the satisfaction of knowing whose victory it really was.
To one pony, the decision was made by fate, the divine workings of gods who meant the best for their subjects. To the other, it was a brilliant ploy to share the love she thought her stallion deserved. She'd sometimes wonder if it was dishonest of her, but none of that mattered. Whether by the machinations of gods or ponies, the result was the same.
After all, that's just romance.
~Fin~
