Rocks Ain't Known For Conversation

Chapters

1 - Flag-Finding
2 - Rock-Rolling
3 - Fiery Flirting
4 - Winter Wrapping
5 - The Stone's Choosing

1 - Flag-Finding

Big MacIntosh and Marble Pie walked down one of the rock farm's many little hoofpaths, carefully avoiding each other's gaze. To an outsider, they might have seemed perfectly at ease. But on the inside, the two of them were very nearly exploding.

Big Mac didn't have one sweet clue what he was looking for. Pinkie hadn't bothered to explain what the purpose of this activity was, and all he knew was that it had something to do with the flag-raising. Maybe they were looking for the flag? But the ground around them was so flat, and all those shiny crystals couldn't possibly hide something that big and colorful. Maybe a rock of some sort? But it would have to be a rock that stood out, wouldn't it? "Eeyup."

Marble did her best to hide behind her bangs without blinding herself. Her eyes were already scanning the crystals around them for the telltale scrap of paper, the 'obsidian' that would determine who got to raise the flag. She knew they weren't looking for a real rock; an obsidian was far too rare a crop on the Pie farm to risk losing it, even for the celebration of Hearth's Warming. She wondered if she should tell Big Mac what they were looking for, but when she turned to ask, he was combing the stones with his eyes. There was a fierce, passionate intelligence in those eyes, one that brought a little warmth to her cheeks. Somepony that intelligent would probably be able to find an obsidian in a biotite crop. She would be better off not distracting him. "Mhm."

Marble took a few steps away from Big Mac, and he couldn't help but smile. If she was striking out like that, she had probably already spotted whatever they were looking for. Made sense, after all, she had the home advantage. That, and she was the youngest. According to Apple family tradition, the flag-raising was hers by rights. In fact, if Big Mac by some miracle did find the thing they were looking for, he had half a mind to let her take it instead. "Eeyup."

So far, Marble wasn't having any luck. But then, she had picked a very easy starting ground. All of the near-transparent crystals would make the obsidian stand out like a sore stalagmite, and she could already tell from where she was standing that Limestone had been far more clever than that. She couldn't remember a time it had ever been in the crystals, but she always liked to start off easy. The little mare turned to say something to Big Mac, but she found herself distracted yet again.

There was something about his build, the way his muscles were shaped. Blocky, but not sharp. He reminded her of a large boulder, the sort that would take hundreds of years to erode under anything but the mightiest of raging oceans. She half-expected the ground to shake every time his hooves met the earth, but instead it seemed to shiver beneath him and try to move closer. Marble's inquisitive eyes settled on his flank, and the bright green half-apple standing out amidst his brilliant red form. Of course he would be a farmer; she knew this earth, and it wouldn't react like this for any old earth pony. The soil was crying out for trees, and it could sense a treeminder almost as well as a tree would. At least, so she imagined. Marble's eyes began to roam over the stallion's mighty form, but she wrenched her head away before her gaze had a chance to linger too long. Such a thing would be terribly improper. Still, she couldn't help but let out an appreciative "mhm" at what she had allowed herself to see.

Big Mac rubbed his hooves against the rough earth, getting a feel for the terrain. It was a far cry from the soft, fertile farmland he was used to. His earth pony magic couldn't sense so much as a shoot of green for miles around or beneath him, only rocks. Stretching it to its limits, Mac was a little surprised to find that the rocks weren't random. There was a pattern to them, a delicate and beautiful tracery of hundreds of different kinds of stones stretching down into the earth farther than he could sense. It was like a crop, except the rotations had been set out years in advance. Even an out-of-his-depth apple farmer like Big Mac could see that the system was almost self-sufficient, requiring only the slightest of delicate touches to marshal it in the right direction, and of course a harvest to make sure the crop didn't become too congested.

The thought of a delicate touch on the rocks made Big Mac glance over his shoulder at Marble Pie. At a glance, it would seem there was nopony more suited to the word 'delicate' than the youngest Pie sister. But if there's one thing a farmer knows, it's that you don't get anywhere sticking to the surface of things. There were subtle signs that betrayed the mare's true nature to Big Mac's analytical gaze. Her deceptive fragility was an affectation, a thin veneer beneath which a strong and willful mare rested. The one eye that he could see seemed almost magnetized to the ground, lingering on the rocks but darting about like a nervous pigeon when forced to look anywhere else. There were hints of a highly specialized confidence, such a profound comfort in one field that it might cause one to withdraw from all others. It was a feeling that Big Mac echoed, though he suspected he might hide it better than she did.

Finally, he examined her flank, and the curious cutie mark she bore there. Three orbs, most likely the marbles for which she was named. Then again, she didn't seem like the sort to play games, more the kind of pony who absorbed herself in her work whenever she could. Big Mac couldn't think of any perfectly spherical stones, though, and they certainly didn't look like bowling balls. Perhaps, he thought, they might be planets. Planets were technically just really big rocks, right? The image of a planet-wide rock farm sprang into his mind, and Big Mac smiled at the thought. Marble would probably like something like that. He thought of how much he would like a planet-wide apple farm, and let out a long and very pleased-sounding "eeeeeeeeyup".

Marble fought down the urge to sigh in frustration. They were only a few hooves away from each other, after all, and he would probably hear it. Right that moment, she was trying to think of the best way to strike up a conversation. It would be pointless to talk about the obsidian; they both clearly understood what they were meant to be doing, and such talk would almost definitely devolve into the one-word exchanges they were already embroiled in. She stole another glance at Big Mac, quickly averting her gaze as she met his eyes for a brief moment. She thought of his cutie mark. She knew how passionate ponies could get about their special talents. If she could find some common ground for them to leap off from, it would be easy to get him talking.

Big Mac was having much the same dilemma. He could tell from the way Marble was methodically picking her way through the crystals that she knew exactly what she was doing, and the last thing he wanted was to look like an idiot, so asking questions about this flag-finding business was right out. He had played marbles a little as a colt, everypony did, but he was hardly enough of an expert to ask an interesting question about them. And that was the best-case scenario; he knew absolutely nothing about other planets, other than the basic idea that they were out there.

Marble was racking her brain for something, anything that she knew about apples. She could vaguely remember about a year ago, during one of Pinkie's regular visits back home, that her twin sister had brought some apples with her. She had also brought sparkly dresses and books and weathered blue ribbons, but Marble couldn't care one iota about them right now. She focused on the memory of the apples.

To a mare who had been eating a steady diet of rocks for most of her life, the apples had been like nothing. They had seemed to fold and melt in her mouth, like a particularly soft sandstone. Not to say they hadn't tasted good; on the contrary, what they lacked in toughness they more than made up for in flavor. And the juice, oh, her kingdom for the juice! She remembered it as though it were yesterday, how she had reveled in every bite for the juice that would dribble down her throat. It had been like ambrosia, or better yet, one of those fancy imported gemstones they sometimes got.

She was just about to talk to Big Mac about how good those apples had been, when she remembered one potentially very crucial detail. Those apples had been red. The apple on his flank was green. For all she knew, he might hate red apples. Or even worse, he might want to know what sort of apples they had been! If apples were even the slightest bit like rocks, then there were probably a million different types of apple for every color, and she knew there was nothing worse than hearing the uneducated prattle on as though they knew more than two bits' worth of information about something. She had better just stay silent. "Mhm."

Big Mac wasn't faring much better. In fact, all things considered, he was doing worse. Before today, he hadn't given so much as a bushel about rocks. They made planting new trees a chore and a half, could seriously stunt the growth of any tree younger than him, and at their very best looked very nice while strangled in the roots of the mightiest trees in the orchard. Before today, he wouldn't have been able to say a good thing about rocks if he tried. Now, he was racking his brain to think of something, anything, that might start a conversation.

He started to get distracted, wondering what her voice would sound like if she wasn't just giving vague mumbles. He would bet the farm that it sounded lovely, like the summer breeze wafting its way through the west orchard, if smells were sounds. Maybe she sang, like Fluttershy. No, probably even better than Fluttershy. He seemed to remember reading something about vibrations in the earth, so it made sense that a rock farmer would have an excellent talent for singing. Not a special talent, of course, but probably better than most.

Marble had a little more to work with, imagining what Big Mac would sound like. The few teasing notes of that strong baritone in his "eeyup" were like blocks of granite to her ears, and the thought of that voice crooning some heartfelt ballad about the passage of time and the erosion of stone was enough to send shivers down Marble's spine. Maybe if she started humming a tune, she could coax him into letting loose...

Maybe if he started on one of his Ponytones numbers, she might take him up on the challenge...

But then, she didn't know that many songs that weren't Maud's, and she had no idea if she knew any tunes he would recognize right off the cuff...

Then again, he had been told he was one of the best acoustic performers west of Canterlot. His skill might be too intimidating for her...

And what if her humming proved too captivating? He might not join in at all, and then the whole thing...

His entire elaborate gesture would be...

Ruined.

The two of them arrived at the same depressing conclusion almost simultaneously, though of course neither of them knew it. They did their very best to hide it, too, though an astute observer might have noticed they met each other's gaze less and less as the flag-finding mission wore on.

2 - Rock-Rolling

From the moment she woke up, Marble Pie knew exactly what she was going to do. With Pinkie's passionate cries of "Hearth's Warming!" still ringing in her ears, the little mare thought about the gifts scattered around the rock farm. Finding them would be difficult, nigh impossible even, but oh, how it would be worth the effort. She thought of the perfectly smooth boulder that she had hidden in the quarry, with Big Mac's name written on the tag attached to it. If Pinkie put them in teams, she would be able to steer the stallion right to it. And then, as the sun rose above the farm and cast the mighty shadow of Holder's Boulder over them, she would turn her most smoldering gaze on Big Mac, and he would lean in close, and...

"Oh my," Igneous Rock murmured breathlessly. "Oh, my."

Upstairs, Big Mac waited for Apple Bloom to squeeze out from under him, and he got to thinking about the day that lay ahead of them. Marble hadn't really told him anything about the Pie family traditions, but Applejack had gotten herself rather worked up over all of it, so he was quite up to speed. In sharp contrast to his sister, Big Mac was quite looking forward to the hunt for presents. It seemed to him like a brilliant way to celebrate the holiday, especially for children; the rarity of gifts would make every one found a magnificent victory, and the hunt itself sounded like an excellent way to teach somepony that it wasn't the gifts you got, it was the ponies around you that made Hearth's Warming special. As an added bonus, once you built up a precedent of the gifts being hard to find, you could really save on gifts by just hiding a few.

As Big Mac made his ponderous way down the stairs, he heard a distinctly unpleasant sound. It was a sound that shook Ponyville on a surprisingly regular basis, a sound that he could, without fail, hear all the way from Sweet Apple Acres. It was a shout of incandescent rage, the roar of the bull before the charge.

"What. Happened. To. My. FARM?!?"

Even before he reached the door to see what the Pies were getting upset about, a pretty clear picture had formed in Big Mac's mind. After Applejack's little speech last night, there were only two possibilities. One, she had planted apple trees absolutely everywhere. Or two...

"It's Hearth's Warming, Apple style!"

Oh sweet Celestia on an ice cream tricycle, no.

Any other year, Big Mac would have been ecstatic to see the giant candy canes and red ribbons. Any other year, the wreaths and strings of lights would have made his eyes light up. But not this year. This year, he could only stare in horror, and hope his little sister wasn't about to be thrown into the quarry.

Marble Pie was similarly shocked to the core. She hardly recognized her family farm, its earthy greys and browns drowning in a sea of unwelcome colors. Before she could even make much sense of the strange poles all over the place, the orange pony's hoof was around her neck and dragging her over to something that put her in mind of a neon maypole.

"Marble Pie, you could raise the Equestria flag up this pole, because you're the youngest Pie!"

Marble looked up, and sure enough, the Equestrian flag was hanging proudly from the crowded pole. But what was Applejack going on about? Pinkie was the one who got to raise the flag, not her. Pinkie had found the obsidian, fair and square, and Marble certainly didn't begrudge her that. And what was up with this pole? What was wrong with putting it on top of Holder's Boulder?

Was this the way the Apples did Hearth's Warming?

Big Mac was still standing in the door, trying not to fall apart where he stood as he watched the Pies' respect for the Apples unravel before his eyes. For better or for worse, most of the Pies were focused on Applejack, and Big Mac dared to hope that he and Granny might be able to salvage this. Then he turned to look at Marble, and she turned to look at him. Something inside the stallion died as he made eye contact.

Marble didn't hate him. She didn't resent him. She didn't even disrespect him. But as she stared at the stallion, she couldn't help but feel sad. She felt lost, uncertain of everything around her, and at the center of that confusion was the Apples. Mere moments ago, she had been convinced that Big Mac was her stone-mate, that it would be his face that appeared in the Choosing Stone. Now, though, he seemed to grow further and further away with every word that came out of his sister's mouth.

"And look, we all get presents! WITHOUT HAVIN' TO FIND 'EM!" Sure enough, there was a pile of colorfully wrapped boxes, most of which Big Mac recognized from the trunk Granny had brought with them. There would be no searching, no strategic thinking, no family bonding reinforced by magnificent rewards. Instant gratification was the name of the game, and even though it was how he had been raised, Big Mac could practically smell how offended the Pies were.

Apple Bloom raced past Big Mac the instant she saw the pile of presents, and his heart sank like a rock. Please, no. She had been bonding so well with Maud, she had even spoken up in defense of the Pies' traditions last night. But there she was, shaking the box in that adorable little way she always did... And there was Granny Smith, coming up from behind to pat her on the head and ruffle her mane...

Then he saw the frown on Granny's face. Her hoof didn't pat Apple Bloom, it rested on her shoulder. The next thing he knew, his little sister was putting down the present, and the two of them were turning to face Pinkie. Well, that was something at least.

"PINKAMENA DIANE PIE! Truly, thou cannot favor this madness?"

Marble couldn't help but shiver at the sound of Igneous Rock raising his voice. There was never much need for discipline on a rock farm; the farm disciplined you enough. So on the rare occasions when her father felt punishment was needed, it was the sort of punishment that lesser ponies would crumble to dust under. Hearing him call out Pinkie's name was hardly a comfort, either; one can seldom harm one twin without touching the other.

"Well, I wanna be one big family!" Pinkie's protests were a candle before an ocean, and Big Mac could see the candle flicker as Limestone added her two cents. Then he saw the tears, and all hope was lost.

It didn't matter what happened now. It didn't matter who was at fault, and who was innocent. Pinkie Pie was crying, and if they were all obscenely lucky, the two families would be trapped in an infinite loop of apologies.

"Excuse me. You planted your pole on a fault line."

Big Mac began to wonder if Tartarus had admission fees.

Marble Pie nearly doubled over in pain as the earth began to crack. She had been pouring her heart and soul into this earth all of her life, and suddenly it was being torn apart. As the patterns upon patterns of rock crops were churned and thrown out of balance, Marble tried desperately to reach out with her magic and heal the scars. But too much was happening too quickly, and the scared little push of a scared little pony was too little too late. The cracks in the earth spread, the fault line opened up, and Holder's Boulder dropped by about two inches.

And then rolled off of the cliff and fell another forty feet before smashing into the ground with a sickening thud.

Everypony raced to the edge of the cliff and stared down into the quarry. As Limestone let out a cry of anguish at the devastation, Marble found herself breaking in a far more subtle way. She looked at where Holder's Boulder had fallen, and remembered where she had hid Big Mac's Hearth's Warming gift. Not for the first time, she was glad that her long mane hid her eyes so easily.

Big Mac sat in the train, wondering if he should say something to his teary-eyed sister. Marble Pie stood in the quarry, unable to say anything as she stared at the gravel that should have been the perfect gift.

Big Mac looked up as Granny started talking. Marble kept her eyes down as Limestone started coordinating the operation.

Big Mac stared with rapt attention as Granny drew on the window, etching out the tale of Holder Cobblestone. Marble strained with all her might to push the legendary monolith even an inch closer to where it was meant to be.

The final stroke of Granny's hoof seemed the most powerful, showing how the rock farm had been built around Holder's Boulder. Maud's first big push had been the only real progress they made, setting the boulder upright.

Hearing Applejack's shocked realization of her mistakes gave Big Mac hope; maybe they had a chance to fix things. Seeing the strongest Pie sister straining her muscles to no avail chipped away at Marble's faith in her own strength; if Maud couldn't move Holder's Boulder, what hope did Marble have?

Big Mac hoped, prayed something would happen that would make them go back to the farm. They had to make things right. Marble was afraid to even step back for a breather, terrified that even the smallest weakness would bring the boulder crashing back down atop the family.

"Stop the train!" "Come on... you... boulder, come on... agh!"

The Apples galloped across snow and earth, pushing themselves to their limits. The Pies strained against the strength of rock and the weakness of flesh, fast approaching their limit. The Apples dashed down into the quarry, while the Pies began to slump and slow.

"Need a little help?" Applejack asked, catching the Pies off-guard and allowing the Apples a chance to catch their breath.

Marble spun around at the sound as though she were on greased hooves. If Applejack was back, maybe it meant... o Haydes, yes! There was Big Mac, dripping with sweat and wearing the most adorable dumb grin on his face. It was a sight that set her little heart a-flutter.

Big Mac didn't listen to Applejack's apology. If he knew one thing about his sister, it was that she knew what to say 94.7% of the time. Instead, he looked across the quarry into the eyes of Marble Pie.

I'm sorry, his exhausted breathing and pleading eyes told her.

Apology accepted, her adorable little smile and slightly teary eyes seemed to say.

"Well, don't just stand there! We got a boulder to move!"

With those words, both families leaped into action. Marble blushed as she felt the massive weight and warmth of Big Mac poised over her, and Big Mac smiled at the mare straining with all her might. Then his smile evaporated as he realized exactly how much of his strength would be needed here.

It took them five hours to roll Holder's Boulder out of the quarry, and Marble and Big Mac enjoyed every second that wasn't filled with grunting and sweating. That is to say, they didn't enjoy it very much at all.

3 - Fiery Flirting

There was something about a Hearth's Warming doll carved from stone that spoke to Big Mac. It had taken him the better part of an hour to chip a rock into the right shape, but now that the fruit of his labor sat proudly on the mantelpiece, he couldn't help but let loose an impressed smile. To him, the doll represented diligence, a refusal to bow before the grueling and the impossible. It wasn't a meaning he'd normally ascribe to a Hearth's Warming doll; the hoof-knitted crochet effigies he was familiar with were a representation of how the fires of friendship brought everypony together at the holidays, a way to show that all were home and together. They'd grow warm and cozy on the hearth, and as the sun set after a wonderful day, most ponies would take them down and snuggle up to the warm fabric.

Somehow, he didn't see that happening with rocks.

Marble Pie stepped silently into the family room, her hooves as light as feathers on the normally-creaky floorboards. She had spent five more minutes in the bathroom than she normally did, making herself as pretty as possible for what promised to be a very pleasant evening. Of course, the simple rock farmer didn't have that many reasons to look pretty, so she had barely the first clue how to go about it. She had combed her mane a few more times than usual, and had taken extra-special care to pick the little bits of rubble out of her coat, but that was about the extent of it.

She hoped that Big Mac wouldn't mind.

Big Mac took a deep breath in, and gave a contented sigh. He could smell the unmistakable odor of cinnamon buns wafting through from the kitchen, and he could see everyone was getting along just fine in the meantime. Granny was trading colloquialisms with Igneous Rock and Cloudy Quartz, while Applejack was making a big show out of unwrapping her present from Pinkie. Meanwhile, Maud and Apple Bloom were seriously engrossed in some funny roleplay about Princess Luna's plot to 'topple the throne of higher consciousness and unite all minds in the shadow garden'. Or something like that, he wasn't paying that much attention. Then he looked a little to their left, and saw Marble.

It wasn't as though she hadn't been beautiful before. From the moment they first looked into each other's eyes, Big Mac had loved the dusty look that all that rubble gave her coat, had loved the way the warm sunlight shone through her mane and tail. But now, bathed in the glow of the roaring fire and sparkling with stray flecks of water, 'beautiful' seemed like such a small word. Marble Pie was radiant, a glowing vision that could outshine even the sun itself.

Big Mac smiled and scooted a little to the left. He hoped she would take the invitation.

Marble's heart fluttered as Big Mac made room by the fire. Yesterday, she might have been afraid that he was moving back out of disgust, but she had seen the blush on his cheeks. She hadn't thought his face could get any more red, but there he was, blushing such a rich crimson that it seemed to suck color away from all the rest of him. There was a spot at the fire just for her, and she had to resist every urge to throw herself across the room at it. Instead, she approached slowly, like a cat stalking a mouse. Finally, she sat down, ignoring the chill of the floor and focusing on the warmth of the fire.

Big Mac could hardly contain his excitement. She had taken it. She was sitting right next to him, barely four hooves away, right by a roaring fire on Hearth's Warming. The only way this could have been more perfect would have been if they had two mugs of hot cider and one blanket. Not because of the cold, of course. Big Mac found the fire more than warm enough. It was the closeness that he longed for...

Marble shifted a little from side to side, rubbing against the cold timbers of the floor. Her coat was still wet, and the Pie house wasn't exactly famous for being well-insulated, so she could hardly help herself if a bit of a chill rode up her spine. She cast a sidelong glance at Big Mac, and put a little bit of extra effort into her shivering. He cared, right? Surely he would say something. Maybe he would rush up to the guest bedroom to fetch a blanket, or add more wood to the fire, or maybe he'd just snuggle up real close...

Big Mac saw her shiver out of the corner of his eye. He felt the warmth of the fire on his back, and wondered how she could possibly still be cold. Or perhaps it was fear? Maybe she was scared of him. No, no, that didn't make sense. She had just gotten out of the bathroom, she would obviously still be chilly. He looked around for any blankets, then noticed the curtains hanging over the window. He was about to leap up and tear them down, then noticed that the curtains were fluttering ever-so-slightly.

So that was where the draft was coming from. Big Mac let out the tiniest of defeated sighs, then a thought occurred. Maybe if he just got a little closer to her...

Maybe she should ask him if she could...

But he'd have to make sure she was okay with it first...

She turned to ask, and her heart sped up as he...

Turned to suggest it to her, and his heart skipped a beat as their...

Eyes met across that brief space, the fire crackling like the...

Electricity between them...

Energy...

Pinkie.

As if possessed of remarkable clairvoyance, Marble and Mac looked up, and in the moment before she descended from the rafters, their hopeful smiles became the faintest of frowns. Then Pinkie was between them, her grin threatening to explode off her face and her forelegs squeezing around their throats. Marble's frown grew even more pronounced, while Big Mac tried and failed to put on a convincing smile.

"Marble Pie, you want to wish Big Mac a happy Hearth's Warming, don't you? And you too, right, Big Mac?"

Marble couldn't help but smile in relief. Pinkie wasn't trying to sabotage this moment. She was trying to coax them out of their shells. She nodded, and gave a little "Mmhm" in response.

Big Mac's strained smirk became a bashful blush when he saw Marble's smile. She wanted to wish him a happy Hearth's Warming? That was so sweet of her. And the way Pinkie was phrasing the question, with those half-lidded eyes and waggling eyebrows, only made him blush more. As he heard Marble's adorable little sound, he chuckled a little. "Eeyup."

Marble only smiled wider as Pinkie hopped away, partly from relief that she could breathe again, and partly because she and Big Mac were now perfectly lined up with each other. He was staring into her eyes, his neck tilted just so, and a charming little smile on his face that made her so glad he couldn't see her furiously blushing cheeks. She wondered if she should say something. Pinkie had already fed her a perfect line, all she had to do was open her mouth and say it...

Big Mac hardly knew where to look. Pinkie was gone, and he was staring deep into Marble's eyes. Well, one of them, anyway. Sweet Celestia, she was even more beautiful up close. That rich purple set against the soft grey of her coat, seeming to sparkle in the glow of the roaring fire. The glow was so strong that her cheeks even seemed to be...

Oh.

"Happy Hearth's Warming." It wasn't entirely a whisper, at least not on the same level as Fluttershy. He could make out every word, every meaning, but somehow it still felt small. Some part of Mac's brain told him he could barely hear her, wanted to get her to speak up. Instead, he just nodded and smiled. "Happy Hearth's Warming to you too."

"Attention, everypony!" His little sister was speaking. It was the perfect moment. As Big Mac turned to listen to Lil' Bloom or whatever her name was, Marble scooted right up close beside him. She felt the warmth of his enormous body, but still found herself shivering, though more from thrills than from the cold.

As Big Mac felt Marble lean into him, he felt a growing warmth in his chest. She had had the same idea as him, and he had a hunch that it wasn't because a full-grown farmer was logically a warmer choice than a thin blanket. He smiled, and turned his head a little so he could rest it on top of hers.

Today was a good day.

4 - Winter Wrapping

Big MacIntosh pushed his shovel across the fields of Sweet Apple Acres, scraping away the snow and exposing the fertile earth. The keening cries of the orchard echoed up through his hooves, and a wistful smile played across his lips. It was like piglets squealing for milk from the sow. He looked behind him, and smiled at Caramel casting the seeds. Every toss of the stallion's head silenced another crying patch of ground, while every step Big Mac took made their keening louder. It was the perfect cycle for Winter Wrap-Up, a cycle both vicious and beautiful, unfolding and collapsing in on itself until it became flowers and yet ashes and then apples and peaches and every fruit under the sun except for pears because if this soil ever grew pears again then all would be fire and ice and eternal chaos worse than anything Discord could plan would descend upon the orchard...

Big Mac stumbled on something. Torn away from his ramblings, he stopped for a moment and looked down at the ground. The thing that had thrown off his rhythm was a rock, one of the rare ones that could stand up to the advance of his shovel. It had slipped under, used the push of the snow to bury itself partway into the soil. He went to kick it away, but he found himself scuffing the earth around it instead. He decided he would let this rock sit. It was a clever rock, dodging his shovel like it did. Maybe it would stand up to the other challenges that the year would throw at it. Big Mac smiled at that thought, and scuffed a little circle of dirt around the rock so that Caramel would know not to knock it aside. With his latest nemesis singled out, Big Mac took another lumbering step forward, and wondered what kind of rock it was.

Marble would know.

Big Mac stumbled again, but this time it wasn't because of any rocks underhoof. The face of the grey mare was suddenly staring back at him from the snow. The faint eddies of wind blowing over the drifts seemed to etch out a thousand tiny traceries of her, smiling, blushing, hiding, leaping towards him with legs spread wide, or lying down with...

He shook his head, and doubled his pace. He ignored Caramel's squeak of surprise, electing instead to try and work his way through these feelings. All the shoveling in the world did nothing to stop his imagination, though. With every step, Big Mac remembered the dust in her coat, the luminous purple of that one unveiled eye, the adorable way she tucked in her chin whenever she realized somepony was looking at her. He wondered what she was doing for Winter Wrap-Up.

Marble Pie brought her hoof down, not as a hammer but as a feather. She felt the earth below the snow, and without a single word spoken, she whispered to it. The ground heard the call of the farmer, and parted before her like the clouds before a pegasus. A hundred thousand tiny fissures, so small that they would never be seen on their own, spread out from Marble's hoof. She looked up, and smiled as she watched the snow disappear into the earth. Deep beneath anything that normal ponies could see, she felt the crops shift, felt the tiny echo of snowflakes bouncing off of tiny ledges, heard the thankful shouts of the next month's crop. The moisture from the snow would erode the rocks, just enough that as the crop grew closer and closer up to the air, just enough of the tiny imperfections would be sanded off that it would make the sort of naturally smooth rocks that fetched such high prices, even from casuals.

Marble always loved to make the spring pebbles. She worked so very hard at them, directing rainfall into hidden little reservoirs all year, and letting it out in little rivulets at just the right times. Gems came and went, and there were plenty of staple stones that served as fallback crops, but to Marble, the most dependable crop in a very dependable business was the spring pebble. Ponies always wanted them. Ponies always bought them. And ponies always had such big, scary smiles on their faces.

The fissures had spread quite far now. The snow had slipped out of sight, tumbling and trickling ever downwards, and a faint outline of the cracks could be seen. Marble let out a breath, and tapped her hoof against the earth again, sending a different message. The cracks closed up, the earth smoothed over and became the uninterrupted vista that had been waiting beneath the snow for all of winter. Marble smiled proudly and began her slow walk back to the house. If she took her time, and cleared as much snow as she could on the way, she would arrive just as Limestone finished up the hot drinks she always made for Winter Wrap-Up.

It took somewhere between one and two hours for Marble to make her way back to the house. As she neared the threshold, Maud stepped out the door and nodded to her. Marble nodded back, and tried not to blush too deeply as she watched Maud's eyes slowly scan the farm.

"You've cleaned up a lot of the snow." To the uninitiated, Maud's deadpan might have seemed sad somehow, but Marble knew her sister well enough to be able to notice the subtle signs of pride and congratulations in that short sentence. She gave her own short and sparing answer to the heartfelt praise. "Mhm." The sisters shared another nod, then Maud walked away and Marble stepped inside.

The warmth of the house, sparse as it was, came as great relief after several hours outside. The weather teams usually took a long time to bring in the warm front to the Pie farm, and this year did not look to be any exception. Marble made her way ever closer to the strongest source of warmth, which was the kitchen. She smiled as she found Limestone, sitting in a chair, sipping from a cup and smiling.

Marble expected her sister to react the moment she set hoof in the kitchen. The kitchen ranked just below Holder's Boulder in the hierarchy of Limestone's territorial instincts, and even Marble's catlike tread was usually enough to set her off. Today, though, Marble was able to make it halfway towards the stove before Limestone noticed her. And it wasn't with a harsh snap of the neck and a beady gaze, either, but a slow turn and a slight widening of her smile.

"Hey, Marble. Clearing going okay?"

"Mhm." Marble turned towards the stove, and noticed a pot with wisps of steam still wafting up from it. She raised an eyebrow, and took a few steps closer. The smell coming from the pot wasn't that of the usual Winter Wrap-Up hot coal, but something... softer.

"Oh, yeah. I'm trying a new recipe this year. Something Applejack showed me."

Marble froze just as she was stretching out to grab the ladle. The name of Applejack had jogged her memory, brought her surging back to another name. A name she had been mumbling into her pillow ever since the train rolled out of town on Bucking Day. A name she now did her best to shrug off as she ladled some of the drink into a cup of her own, and took it to the table. But as she took that first sip, the name came roaring back.

It was apple cider, sprinkled with serpentine. Marble could remember drinking this on Hearth's Warming, leaning into him as she pretended to be far more tipsy than a few small sips should have made her. She remembered giggling, and remembered how the Apples had all given her such adora-struck looks that she had blushed as red as his flank. She remembered making a plan to play up the drunk angle and use it as an excuse to kiss him, and getting her cider taken away before she could get drunk enough to do it.

She didn't notice she was crying until she felt Limestone's hoof on her shoulder. "Hey, Marble, are you feeling okay? And don't tell me it's allergies, because you and I both know I haven't let chalk anywhere near my kitchen." Another hoof crossed over Marble's chest, and for a moment she thought about leaning into the hug and letting it all out.

Then she thought about him. She thought about how he barely ever said a word, barely even seemed to change his face, but so clearly had so much going on. She pulled out of the hug and left the house. There was a lot more snow left to clear.

5 - The Stone's Choosing

There was no more snow to clear. Big MacIntosh and the team had shoveled every flake of snow off of the orchard, and when he had gone into town to see if anyone else needed help, he had found winter to be well and truly wrapped up. The organizational expertise of Twilight Sparkle never did cease to amaze. But, Big Mac mused as he put the shovel away in the barn, it did leave him without any way of stopping himself from thinking about Marble. As he wandered into the house and poured himself a mug of hot cider, his thoughts drifted away from the greens and browns of the dawning spring and towards the unchanging grey of the rock farm.

After about half of his cup had disappeared into his gullet, Big Mac noticed Granny Smith sitting down across the table from him. She smiled that wide, denture-filled smile of hers, and he smiled back.

"Y'all done a mighty fine job o' wrappin' up winter this year."

"Eeyup." Big Mac took another swig of his cider. The silence lasted maybe a minute before Granny spoke up again.

"Y'know, I been writing a lot of letters this past winter. Been readin' a lot of 'em, too. Iggy an' Big Mama Q might be different to us, but I sure been learnin' a lot from their way o' lookin' at things."

"Eeyup." It seemed as good a response as any.

"Mostly, I been learnin' myself about this old-fashioned thing called the Choosing Stone."

Big Mac did his best to conceal a shudder as he braced himself for yet another uncomfortable story about Granny's endless quest to rekindle the youthful flame of love.

"Ah, there's no need to get yerself in a tangle, Big Mac. This ain't another O'Seedy story." Apparently he wasn't as good at neutral expressions as he thought. "Anyway, the Pie family's been keepin' guard o' that stone for generations now. Ain't nopony knows its secrets better than the Pies." She leaned in close, and her grin grew even wider. "Now, what with Maud bein' off with her fancy rocktorate, Limey fixin' ta inherit the farm, and Pinkie, being, well, Pinkie..." Granny paused for breath, and Big Mac waited patiently for her to get back on track. "They been thinkin' about lettin' little Marble at the stone, see if it picks out a nice mate for her."

Something sank in Big Mac's heart. He took a deep swig of his cider. Part of him did its best to be happy for Marble. Igneous and Quartz seemed like a good match, so this Choosing Stone would probably decide on a perfect stallion for Marble. It wasn't as though she deserved any less.

"And seein' as the Pies know so much about this stone, Iggy reckons they know who the stone's gonna pick." Granny started waggling her eyebrows, something that always put Big Mac in mind of a caterpillar having a seizure. "They think a big, strong dependable farmer would be a great match for their little Marble. Somepony reliable, not always gallivantin' off to distant corners of Equestria to solve some big problem." At this point, the eyebrow waggling was so great it seemed to be threatening to fly off Granny's face. "Somepony with a seventy-odd chance of inheritin' one o' the biggest business empires in the whole kingdom."

Big Mac would have to be as dense as granite not to realize what Granny was saying. And despite his inward giddiness at having unintentionally made a rock comparison, Big Mac was not that thick. He downed the last of his cider, and was just about to race to his room to pack his bags when he tripped over them.

Big Mac sprang back to his feet and examined the saddlebags. They were packed with all of the essentials, as well as a bushel of apples and a bottle of applejack. He turned and offered his biggest smile to Granny, who more than matched it.

"Can't expect a poor old lady to do much to help out on Winter Wrap-Up, can ya? Best to leave her inside, with all them thoughts and worldly wisdom."

"Eeyup." And that was all Big Mac had time to say as he slung the saddlebags over his back and bolted out the door. He had a train to catch.

Marble Pie could feel the entire farm. Her fissures had spread, from this single point out to the very borders of their property. Every snowflake that had fallen on the Pies' rock farm was now tumbling deeper and deeper into the bosom of the earth, ready to shape the crops and ensure a soaring springtime profit. That was how it happened. That was what she did every year at spring. It didn't matter what else happened, Marble always buried the snow and made pebbles. And for the rest of the year? Farm rocks. Farm them whatever way they had to be farmed. Ignore new farming methods. Listen to instructions. Try with all her might to never dream, because dreams would only make her sad. That was the plan. That was the way of things. That was her life.

Somewhere amidst the fissures, Marble felt Maud. She was just standing there, and based on her position, staring off in the direction of... staring off in a random direction. Without once taking her concentration off the fissures, Marble tapped her other forehoof at the ground, sending pulsing messages across the farm towards Maud.

Are you okay?

The message came back almost instantly. I am waiting.

For what?

For something to happen.

Marble sighed, shrugged, and turned her full attention back to the fissures. They were trembling now, and a single drop of sweat beaded on her brow as she concentrated. The fissures were noticing each other, and they wanted to make friends. They wanted to invite each other over for dinner, and maybe sleepovers, and maybe they wanted to just permanently move in with all of their friends. In Equestria, every aspect of culture was oriented towards friendship. But on the rock farm, it was not something to be encouraged. When rocks made friends, they would turn each other to gravel. When fissures made friends, they would make ravines and canyons and so forth. And Marble wasn't supposed to let that happen.

As always, the temptation loomed to let go. Marble could feel everything being held together by the thread of her thoughts, and considered how easy it would be to stop. It would collapse the entire farm into the ground, true, and that was by no means a good thing, but it was also big. The looming possibility of affecting so much, of inducing such magnificent change, simply by doing nothing. It was almost irresistible, a truly intoxicating level of power.

Marble held herself there for a moment or two, feeling the weight of the easy choice. Her thoughts kept coming back around to Big Mac, and how he wasn't here. How he hadn't been here since Hearth's Warming. How she didn't know of any reason why he would come back. And anyway, Maud was still on the farm. She'd probably fix the whole thing before it even began to fall apart.

But then, the train would be coming soon. Then again, there would be a train in the area soon. Another drop of sweat beaded and fell. Marble felt, and weighed, and pulled on the threads. She ground her hoof against the earth, and felt the fissures draw back, felt them close. She had won again.

Marble decided to check in the east field. She didn't know what for yet. She would probably find an interesting rock to stare at.

The train pulled into the station, and Big Mac was almost thrown out of his seat as the cart lurched to a stop. He stumbled and caught himself, then took a moment to regain his footing. While the train whistled, he busied himself with double-checking his saddlebags. He hadn't dozed off for even a second since he stepped onto the train, and there hadn't been a single moment where anypony could have stolen anything, but in the absence of a tie to straighten, there was little else for a nervous stallion to do.

Once he was satisfied that the only reason he was missing three apples was because he had eaten them, Big Mac slung the bags over his back and stepped off the train. It was all he could do not to bolt for the door, settling instead for a brisk canter. Once he was outside and standing at the stone station, though, all of that nervous energy seemed to transmute itself into lead weights on his hooves.

Big Mac felt like it took him several hours to walk from the station to the Pies' rock farm. He did his best not to drag his hooves, but every hoofall felt like a nail, or the toll of a bell. With every step, Big Mac worried about the Choosing Stone. He worried about whether or not Marble would accept it. He worried about whether she even had a choice in the matter. Perhaps most of all, he worried about what would happen if the stone chose differently. Nopony was infallible, after all. Igneous might have guessed wrong. And what then? He had come all this way. What would they think of him? What would she think of him?

"Hello, Big Mac."

The voice came as a shock, and Big Mac rounded on it as though it were some vicious animal. But instead of some vicious predator or seasonal bandit, Big Mac found himself face to face with Maud Pie. He let out a sigh of relief, and nodded. "Afternoon, Miss Pie."

"Yes it is." There were no smiles, no hints of anything beyond the simplest meaning of her words. Big Mac found it very easy to talk to Maud. But he wasn't here to talk, and she seemed to realize that. Without another word, she turned and walked towards the farm.

After a moment's wait, Big Mac followed. The two of them walked for longer than Big Mac cared to notice, right past the farmhouse and into the northern fields. This was not a place for pebbles or little rocks. This was where the Pies tended to their boulders, and raised up monoliths the likes of which might form the pillars of magnificent temples. It was one of the rare moments in his life where Big Mac felt truly small.

"You want to see the Choosing Stone. You want to know the choice it will make." Maud turned and fixed Big Mac with a glare that seemed bored with the very fact that he still drew breath. "You want my sister."

Big Mac decided not to answer in the usual way. A simple 'eeyup' was not the sort of thing one said when discussing betrothal. Instead, he nodded slowly. Maud seemed to grow a little less astronomically distant.

"You talk better without words." She looked around the field and scuffed her hoof in the dirt. "How much do you want her?"

Big Mac went to tell her, but found he did not have the words. As he thought of Marble, of the long winter nights he had spent dreaming of her, of the few fleeting moments with her that he remembered so clearly, he could not think of how to put into words how great his love was for her. He looked around at the massive boulders that surrounded him, and he thought of something. He looked around for the biggest monolith, one that stretched from horizon to horizon and united earth with sky. His eyes zeroed in on the biggest of the lot, and he pointed to it. Maud followed his gaze, and her eyes widened by a tiny fraction.

"Nopony ever wants something that much." She turned and stared into Big Mac, and he felt as though she could see his entire life. "You love her, don't you?" Big Mac nodded as fast and as hard as he could.

Maud made a sound halfway between relief and sorrow, and reached into her pocket. She brought out a marble, purple and grey and perfectly smooth. She set it on the ground, then scuffed her hoof in the dirt. She turned to a rock that stood just as high and twice as wide as Big Mac, and scraped her hoof along its side. Tiny particles of dirt clung to the rock, and Maud traced out a shape. She scuffed her hoof, lifted it, and traced the shape again. The lines grew bolder, the shape grew clearer, and Big Mac could swear the air grew colder. He watched as the shape of his cutie mark was etched onto the rock.

"I also talk better without words." Maud walked around to the other side of the rock, and flipped it. Big Mac couldn't help but flinch as he heard the crunch, saw the marble be crushed beneath the massive boulder. Maud poked her head out from behind the boulder, and her eyes narrowed. She raised one hoof, and brought it crashing back down on top of the rock. Big Mac's jaw flapped loose as the rock exploded into a million pieces.

"Do we understand each other?" Maud took a few steps closer to Big Mac, crunching large shards of rock into so much gravel with every step.

"Eeyup." He made sure to pour as much respect into that word as possible. Maud nodded, and seemed appeased. She had finished turning the boulder into gravel, and motioned for Big Mac to stand in the middle of it. He raised an eyebrow, but did as he was told.

"It'll start soon." Before he could ask what she meant, it happened.

The gravel started to dance. Every speck of thrice-shattered rock leaped up from the ground and began to bounce around, as though it hadn't a care in the world. They criss-crossed and intersected, and led such complicated whirligigs that Big Mac would swear the pebbles seemed to dance in and out of reality. Soon enough, though, the dance revealed that there was method to its madness. The gravel spun around Big Mac, forming into eight circles, each one within the next, and him at the center.

"What-" Big Mac's question was cut short as the earth itself seemed to rise up at him. He felt his connection grow without even trying, felt the strata of the rock farm force itself into his awareness. He looked down, and saw that the earth was trying to eat his hooves.

"It's just getting a feel for you," Maud explained. "So it can tell who'd be a good match."

As if in response to her words, the circles suddenly exploded outward. Circles became a spiral, and the spiral became a tendril, bouncing and hurtling across the ground towards parts unknown.

"Now we wait."

Marble had not found an interesting rock to look at. She had found something far more unusual and fascinating. On the first day of spring, miles from any trees that put forth fruit, there was a green leaf sitting plastered against a rock. It was odd, and had been holding her attention for the past twenty minutes. Then she heard the skittering, and the leaf didn't matter any more.

She looked up, and saw the gravel charging across the field. She saw the pebbles tumbling and leaping and all but flying at her.

"No," she whispered to herself as the gravel drew near. Why today? Why any day? And why so suddenly? Why without warning? She was being given no chance, no preparation, nothing but a summons. At the speed the gravel was moving, she probably wouldn't even get a chance to run. A moment later, the ground was rising up around her hooves. She struggled for a moment or two, but it soon became clear that there would be no running. It was destiny, or some lie for children like that. The ground retreated back into itself, freeing her hooves, and Marble began to follow the trail of gravel back to its source.

The most jarring thing about this ordeal was how sudden it was. She would have expected that if a stallion appeared to court her, they would be formally introduced before pulling out the Choosing Stone. She had thought that this day would come with plenty of warning, and long talks from Mother and Father about propriety and faithfulness. And certainly not at the tail end of winter, of all times! What sort of time of year was that for courtship? And wasn't she too young? Surely it would have been Limestone first.

Every possible answer to a question only raised a thousand more. Marble asked all the questions she could think of to herself, and answered maybe half of them as she followed the gravel line. She didn't take notice of how the line had become a spiral around her, how there were now two gravel circles just barely keeping abreast of her. She hardly took notice of anything until she reached the northern field, and the line vanished.

She went to say hello, but stayed her tongue. What would be the point of it? They were quite clearly here. She only hoped they meant to surprise her with something special. If this was some kind of cruel joke, Marble would have words.

Marble's heart skipped a beat when she saw somepony stepping around the boulder, but she calmed down when she saw it was only Maud. Her sister stretched out a hoof, offering a hug. Marble practically lunged into the embrace.

"He wanted to use the Choosing Stone," Maud said into Marble's ear. The younger sister sighed, and made a little "mhm" noise before leaning further into the hug. "I think it's a good match. You'll be happy together."

Marble pulled out of the hug and stared at Maud. Then she heard the crunch of hooves on cold earth, and looked past Maud to...

Big Mac smiled wider than he could ever remember smiling. It had been such a gamble. Out of every mare in all of Equestria, what were the chances that the stone gave him the one he wanted?

Marble's eyes teared up, and she felt rooted to the spot. Big Mac? He had come all the way here? The day the snow fell, the first day of planting, and he was here at the Choosing Stone instead of his orchard?

Big Mac wanted so much to charge forward and sweep her up in his legs, but he had to stop himself. She had never seemed so fragile as she was in this very moment, in this place, with him. He would have to be slow. He would have to be careful. He would have to-

Marble barely even thought about it. One moment, she was standing there, shocked like lightning, the next she was throwing herself into Big Mac like a cannonball. She curled her legs as far as she could around his massive frame, and squeezed hard. She didn't want to let go. She hoped she couldn't.

Big Mac did his best not to gasp for breath, instead reaching out a hoof to caress Marble's face. He tilted her chin up, and gave her his warmest smile.

"I found a rock today," he whispered to her. Her eyes sparkled like sapphires at that.

"Mhm?"

"It made me think of you."

She smiled, and they kissed.