An Apple for the Teacher

by CinnamonSwirltheBreaded

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Celestia, Sex, Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Cutie Mark Crusaders
Length: 3767

Twilight Sparkle gives her teacher an apple as a way of thanking her.

Among unicorns, it is traditional for the student to thank their teacher or professor upon graduating with some sort of small gift that properly reflects how much the student valued their instruction.

Twilight has been an alicorn for several months now, and she still hasn't found the perfect gift to give Celestia, who, after all, decided to skip over making Twilight a doctor and head straight to making her a Princess. What sort of gift could she probably give her?

Perhaps an apple will do...

Published 2016-04-03 05:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-04-03 05:20:01 UTC

Chapter 1

Twilight had a problem, the sort of problem that she usually turned to her many books to resolve. Which she had. It was not really that unusual to find the mare buried up to her horn in various books of all shapes and sizes, and most ponies, including those who knew her best, would not even remark on the fact. Yet, for the first time in Twilight’s memory, she found herself with a problem that research appeared to be, by and large, unable to resolve in any satisfactory fashion.

The problem, of course, was that it had been very close to half a year since she had become a princess, and she still hadn’t gotten her beloved teacher any sort of thank you gift. Granted, the whole dying and getting better and growing wings thing really wasn’t what Twilight had in mind when she thought about creating an original thesis and accepting a diploma, and she’d be lying if she wasn’t a bit irked that her title was ‘princess’ and not ‘doctor’, and there were no fancy letters following her name. She had worked hard for those fancy letters, but she supposed a crown, a kingdom, and wings would simply have to fill that hole in her.

For now.

She could always go and get another degree or seven, if she really wanted one, and she thought the name of ‘doctor princess’ or perhaps ‘princess doctor’ was a particularly attractive one.

Yet, for all her many books, it seemed the answer of an appropriate gift to get a teacher who literally made you immortal and gave you a personal everlasting supply of quills, was elusive. None of the books offered any sort of clue what to get, although there were several books that Twilight was unamused to find, containing gift ideas that simply weren’t appropriate for a library. Best teacher and beloved mentor or not, she was certainly not getting Celestia a marital aid, for one, and for the life of her she couldn’t figure out why she had a book on burning books (The Burning Book of Book Burning, by Tome Tosser) in her library at all.

And so, she was at a bit of an impasse.

Thankfully, there came a rapping on the door, the sort of rapping that suggested that some small ponies were eager to enter her home and do some reading themselves. Or, perhaps, Twilight had spent too much time reading and she was starting to imagine things again.

No, she definitely heard it that time.

In defiance of her possible sanity slippage, Twilight waltzed around her unhelpful stacks of books on hoof care, and opened the door with a smile that was, by all accounts, only just verging on the mad. She was at least an eyepatch and a crazy hairdo away from actually being crazy.

“Oh, hello girls!” Twilight greeted the three ponies on her library door step. Perhaps it was strange to think of Applejack’s and Rarity’s sisters as friends, but the terrible trio of catastrophic crusaders were so often around her library, she couldn’t help but see them as such.

“Hello, Princess,” the three of them practically sang in the sort of voice that suggested that they had accidentally done great and personal harm to Twilight’s pet owl. Which was impossible: after all, he was currently performing his owly duties keeping the top of her head warm.

“Now girls,” Twilight chided. “We’ve talked about this, I don’t want you calling me Princess—I’m the same filly you’ve known all along, wings or no.”

“I suppose,” Applebloom said, glancing at her two friends before shrugging noncommittally.

“Well, whatever brings you by the library today?” Twilight asked, stepping aside and ushering the three young, cutie markless fillies into her lair of learning. “Are you looking for something for a school project, perhaps? I’m afraid I’m a bit disorganized at the moment, but I’d be happy to help.”

“Well, we were looking for Spike,” Sweetie Belle said, “see, we wanted to get our cutie marks in geology, and we may have dropped ou—uhgm”

An orange hoof, owned by the only pony of the three with whom Twilight knew nothing of her family, intercepted Sweetie’s mouth quite aggressively. “It’s not important, we just wanted to see if Spike was around.” Scootaloo added with a charming and unconvincing smile.

“Oh, certainly,” Twilight said, bustling over to her cabinet and opening it to the ‘S’ section, before reaching in and pulling out her wayward, and rather tired assistant. “I’m afraid the two of us were up most of the night, you see, so I’m not sure he’ll be of much use to you.”

Indeed, the dragon, assistant or not, was perhaps more apt to be called a paperweight at this time of day and after such a night of studying.

“Oh,” the three fillies echoed and looked somewhat downcast, frowns maring their otherwise cheerful faces.

“What are you up to, anyway, Princ-Twilight” Sweetie Belle asked, glancing at the monument Twilight had inadvertently constructed to math.

“I, well, it’s a bit silly,” Twilight’s face flushed with the shame of not knowing the answer. “I was looking for a gift to give Princess Celestia. She was my teacher, you know, and since I’m now no longer her student…” Twilight shrugged the helpless shrug of the desperate and sleep deprived. “I’m at a bit of a loss, you see.”

The trio put their heads together, quite literally, and after a pained moment of rubbing their respective foreheads, they thought about what Twilight wanted, and, more importantly, how they might help her.

“Well,” Scootaloo said with the air of somepony who thought they knew the answer, but was equally afraid of being called out for being wrong in front of the whole class. “When we want to thank Ms Cheerilee—”

“Like when we’re late for class.” Sweetie Belle offered.

“Or we set her desk on fire.” Scootaloo added, with a sagely nod that didn’t fill Twilight with any desire to allow the filly around her collection of paper-based friends.

“Or we just wanted to say thanks,” Apple Bloom said, “we give her an apple!”

“An apple,” Twilight repeated, looking skeptical and slightly hungry. It had, after all, been three shelves of books ago that she had anything to eat, and that had been a stray spider that had the misfortune to not be born with the good sense not to crawl into a pony’s mouth.

“Well, sure!” Apple Bloom enthused, reminding everypony in the room that she was, indeed, her sister’s sister. “The right apple can be used for just about anything you can think of, Twilight! I mean, everypony likes apples, right! You can’t go wrong.”

“It’s true,” Scootaloo said, buzzing her wings like a fly. “I really like tarter apples, you know, green apples.”

“My favourite is Zap apples, of course,” Apple Bloom said, a bit of drool escaping her mouth and pooling at her hooves.

“I really like Big Macintosh.” Sweetie Belle’s voice was dreamy, at least for a brief moment before a sense of panic crept up on her. “I-I mean, I like… Big… Macintosh apples, yeah!”

“I thought I told you you weren’t allowed to crush on my brother!” Apple Bloom’s former daydreams of magical rainbow covered apples evaporated in a strange urge to ensure her brother never actually got laid.

“Apple Bloom please,” Twilight interrupted, one hoof scratching her chin as she used her wing to keep the two filly friends from fighting furiously for finicky reasons. “Everypony is attracted to your brother. Everypony. Why do you think your sister doesn’t keep mirrors in the house? One good look at himself and he’d never want to leave his reflection!”

The three friends considered this, pondering their own ponderous thoughts.

“See!” Apple Bloom exclaimed. “I told you I wasn’t a vampony!”

“It was an easy enough mistake to make!” Scootaloo shot back.

“I smelt like garlic for a week!” Apple Bloom snapped back.

“Girls, please,” Twilight said with a tired tone. “This is a library!”

It took a moment for the three fillies to calm down, and, shamefacedly, apologize to Twilight, both for being rude and fighting in her home slash place of work and interrupting her research. Operating much like a Luna in the early morning, Twilight only barely noticed the apology, and was equally unaware of the Cutie Mark Crusaders dragging her dragon assistant away for reasons they’d all probably regret later, when they were cleaning molten rock out of their fur.

The idea had settled in her brain like a bird in a nest: an Apple! Of course! It was all so obvious and logical! Celestia was, or had been, her teacher, therefore it only made sense that Twilight ought to give the mare an apple as way of thank you. Of course, it couldn’t be just any old apple. After all, different apples had different uses. Tart apples were for baking, sweet apples were for eating, and damaged apples on the ground were for cider making.

All very logical. For Celestia, who was, in Twilight’s opinion, the very best teacher in all of Equestria, it only made sense that she ought to get the mare the very best apple. What was the very best apple? It was hard to rank them. And then, like a firework going off in a china shop, an idea blossomed in her head. “Of course,” Twilight said with a smile, “The very best Apple for the very best teacher!”

***

Applejack was a mare of simple pleasures. She liked trees for bucking, hay for eating, alongside a healthy and perhaps not so healthy helping of apples, a mug of cider to cool herself off after a hard’s day work. And, if that work had been particularly difficult, she had a tendency to go to the local taverns and pretend to be interested in some companionship—only to buck the offender in the head when he got too fresh.

The simple pleasures.

One of which was trotting up the pathway to Sweet Apple Acres just now.

“Well, howdy to you, Twilight,” Applejack said with a fond grin as her friend got within easy earshot. Sure, Twilight was no Rainbow Dash, but she was still a fine friend. Not as refined as Rarity, of course, but still pretty fine. “What brings ya’ll around here to my little slice of Equestria?”

“Oh, I’m glad you asked!” Twilight said excitedly, doing an absolutely adorable dance of excitement as she came to a stop in front of Applejack. “It’s very exciting!”

“You don’t say,” Applejack said with a bit of a fond smirk.

“See, ever since I got these,” Twilight extended her wings for a brief moment, before refolding them neat as you please along her sides. “I’ve been looking for some way of saying ‘Thank you’ to Princess Celestia!”

“As I recall,” Applejack said, drawling her words out nice and slow. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do. “You done thanked her quite a bit. Repeatedly.”

“Yes, well, I—” Twilight blushed.

“Over and over, in fact!” Applejack teased, pushing her hat back. “Couldn’t help but recall you spending most of one Tuesday thankin’ the mare—it isn’t like you didn’t do the majority of the work anyhow.”

“Yes, well!” Twilight said shortly, her cheeks still flushed with her embarrassment. “That’s not here nor there, I think. I mean, it's traditional for a student to get her advisor a gift, you see, upon receiving her doctorate… So, you know.” Twilight flexed her wings again. “Not what I had in mind, but the principle still applies.”

“Sure,” Applejack shrugged. “So what can I do ya for?”

“Well, I was talking to your sister and her friends,” Twilight began, “and she suggested that I ought to do what they do for Ms Cheerilee—get her an apple.”

“An apple eh?” Applejack smiled. She might not know too much about doctorates and fancy degrees, but she did know her apples—and oranges, but she’d deny that to anypony who asked. “Well, you’ve certainly came to the right place, Sugarcube, I’ve got just about every apple in Equestria, you see.”

“Right! Excellent!” Twilight clapped her hooves together and lit her horn, setting off a brilliant flash of light, which resolved itself into a largish crate. “Now, I’ve tried to make it as comfortable as possible, and I wasn’t sure if you read much but I included some favourites of mine—”

“Uh, Sugarcube?” Applejack tilted her head. “What in tarnation are you goin’ on about?”

“What do you mean?” Twilight’s face was tinged with confusion. “Princess Celestia is the best teacher I ever had, therefore the gift, whatever I give her, has to be the best there is too. I’m getting her an apple, therefore, it has to be the best Apple. And you’re the best Apple I know, Applejack.”

Applejack glanced at the crate, which had the side of it popped open, revealing something not unlike a small Manehatten apartment. Then she looked back at Twilight, skeptically. “You’re telling me, that you’re sending me to Canterlot…”

“That’s right!” Twilight beamed.

“...as a gift for Princess Celestia.” Applejack finished, struggling and failing to keep her disbelief off her face.

“Exactly so!” Twilight tapped the side of the crate with her hoof and gestured for Applejack to get in. “It’s only a short ride, and I’m sure the Princess won’t make you live in a box once you get to Canterlot. Probably.”

Applejack glanced back and forth, before putting some steel in her expression and voice and turning to her friend with her best no nonsense tone, the sort of tone that made Apple Bloom quiver in fear and her brother clutch his doll. “Now, sugarcube, I know you mean well, and, I can’t rightly say I ain’t flattered you think I’m the best apple—but, and I rather think this ought to have been covered at some point in your education, you can’t just give me as a gift, you don’t own me, after all.”

Twilight stared at her, her expression blank as she slowly blinked, obviously processing Applejack’s profound statement. A lesser pony might have been insulted that her friends were trying to give her away as if she were a wagon, but, after so many years and adventures, Applejack knew Twilight’s heart was in the right place—even if stress sometimes made her nuttier than squirrel poo.

“Actually,” Twilight said finally. “I do. Own you, I mean.”

“What.”

“I’m a princess, Applejack,” Twilight gestured with her wing again. “Why do you think Princess Celestia always calls ponies ‘her’ little ponies? Legally, we own you.”

“I beg yur pardon?”

“Well, technically we split ownership four ways, based on our size and relative magical power, and inversely dropping off the further one gets from a princess.” Twilight explained, “For example, I basically own everypony in Ponyville, including you, but I don’t actually own anypony in Canterlot—that’s the sisters’ domain.”

“I…” Applejack rubbed the side of her head. “How come I haven’t heard of this before?”

Twilight shrugged. “It probably never came up?”

“I guess so.” Applejack said, wondering, briefly, whether she could move her whole farm someplace less insane. “Either way, sugarcube, I ain’t gettin’ in that crate, and there isn’t anything you can say that’ll convince me otherwise.”

Twilight sighed, and squared her frame, before speaking in a steely tone of voice. “Alright Applejack, one way or another, you’re getting in this crate, and you’re gonna be the best darn gift a student can give her former teacher. Now, we can this the easy way… or we can do it the Rainbow Dash way.”

Applejack’s only response was to lift her hat and pull out her length of rope. “How about we do this the Applejack way.” She gave her rope an experimental spin. “If ya’ll think you can take on a rodeo champion, that is.”

Her eyes narrowed as she stared her friend down.

Twilight’s eyes narrowed as well, her gaze hardening.

**

As Applejack came to on a pile of shredded newspapers, hogtied better than most so called experts the mare had seen could manage, in a crate that was rocking back and forth in the gentle motion of a train rapidly approaching its destination, The first thought that sprang to Applejack’s sore mind was: “Huh, where did Twi learn to rodeo like that?”

Followed closely, and somewhat more urgently, by the thought: “How am I supposed to use the washroom in here?”

**

“You’ll have to forgive my former student,” Celestia said, as Applejack pushed the door of the restroom open and trotted out. The crate, and, by extension, herself, had only arrived a few minutes prior, and as soon as the crate’s wall had fallen open by Celestia’s hoof, Applejack had shakily, and urgently, hopped her way out on her tied hooves, covered in stray bits of newspaper but thankfully not her own urine, and to the nearest restroom. Untying herself had been a bit of a task, and now she had the rather unpleasant taste of sweaty rope in her mouth, but it was a small price to pay, in her mind.

“You know how Twilight’s mind can be, at times,” Celestia continued, sounding rather apologetic as Applejack tried her best to duff some of the bends out of her trademarked hat. “I’ll be speaking with her, you can be sure.”

“Uh huh,” Applejack said noncommittally. “Listen, that’s great an all, Princess, but I’d rather get home and give the mare a piece of my mind myself, if you don’t mind.”

“Certainly,” Celestia said, sounding slightly uncomfortable as she settled back down into her seat. Applejack had been in Celestia’s chambers a few times over the years, and it was familiar enough to her, which was good. She’d hate to think of what might have happened if Celestia had opened the crate in the middle of the hallway—she wouldn’t have been able to find a washroom there, she was sure.

“Well, maybe not,” Celestia said with a bit of a frown, “I’m afraid it might not be as easy as that, Applejack.”

“What do you mean?” Applejack asked, in an understandably irritated tone of voice as she forced the hat back onto her head and sat down opposite the Princess. “I know I don’t got no bits on me, but if ya’ll don’t mind me sayin’, I kind of expected ya to pay my way. Given the whole inconvenience and such.”

“Of course,” Celestia agreed, waving her hoof as if to ward off the suggestion that she wouldn’t. “It's the least I can do. However, the problem, dear Applejack, is that I’m afraid our mutual friend was quite correct on the law.”

“Say what, now?”

“It’s merely that, technically, it's been on the law books for centuries that we Princesses own—in a literal sense—the little ponies under our rule. A holdover from our feudal past, I assure you Applejack, and one I fully intend on resolving as soon as I can.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Well, it's merely that, by giving you to me as a gift, you’re technically my close personal property, and any Guard who spotted you outside of Canterlot would be obligated to return you to here.”

“Well, just tell’em not to then!” Applejack frowned at the much bigger mare. “It ain’t hard…”

“I can’t simply go around making exceptions to the laws, Applejack!” Celestia looked horrified at the very prospect. “That’s barely a step above pure anarchy!”

Applejack was starting to appreciate why Rarity disliked the bureaucracy so much.

“Fine,” she said shortly, rubbing her forehead. “Then just release me, make me a freemare—I’m assumin’ that's a real thing, and I’ll be on my way.”

“Technically, I can’t do that either,” Celestia looked embarrassed by the laws that managed to tie her own wings, laws she had managed to craft. “I can’t release you until… well, I get some release myself.”

Applejack stared at Celestia in disbelief. “You sayin’ that you’re a prisoner yourself or somethin’?”

“Of a sort,” Celestia agreed. Her wings rustled and her hindquarters wiggled surreptitiously.

“I.” Applejack blinked, then nodded. “Should I ask why, or should I just assume it’s some sort of convolutin’ set of laws that should have never been on the books to begin with?”

“That would be a wise assumption, yes.”

“Right,” Applejack rubbed her forehead, before smiling. “Well, shoot, Princess, there’s an easy way out of this! Why don’t you just say I… satisfied ya, and I’ll be on my way.”

If the suggestion that an exception to the law had brought a horrified expression to Princess Celestia’s face, this suggestion brought a slightly amused, if strained, smile. “The Element of Honesty, suggesting I commit perjury? I never thought I’d see the day!”

“Uh huh,” Applejack didn’t appreciate her attempt to lighten the mood.

“It only has to be once, Applejack,” Celestia said with a sigh, “and I promise you I’ll remove those laws, as soon as I can, as well as have a nice long talk with my former student.” There was a pause, and she smiled weakly. “Besides, you’d remember a night with me for the rest of your life.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yes,” Celestia said, nodding eagerly. “Haven’t you ever wondered what keeps the sun burning?”

“Uh… hydrogen fusin’ into helium via nuclear synthesis?” Applejack had heard that once, and it had that weirdly complicated way of sounding true.

“Don’t be silly!” Celestia said with a chuckle. “It’s sustained wholly by my… well...”

“Oh.”

Applejack looked at Celestia, and Celestia looked back, with all the desperation and neediness of a mare who hadn’t gotten laid in far too long and had, privately, been entertaining a number of lewd fantasies involving ropes and chains and apples in wholly inappropriate places ever since Applejack had set hoof in the room. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad, after all, Applejack’s barn door had always swung more towards other fillies than colts, and there was no denying that Celestia was a very beautiful mare.

“Oh, what the hay, a night I’ll remember for the rest of my life? Sounds like too good of a deal to pass up,” Applejack said, getting to her hooves. “Good thing I won all those pie eatin’ contests, I reckon.”

**

Applejack paused in her recounting of her adventure, looking at each of her friends’ faces in turn—including a rather abashed and fully chastised Twilight Sparkle, whom Applejack had already forgiven.

“Anyway,” she said as she adjusted her hat around her horn. “To make a long story short, I’m an alicorn now.”