Airlie Red Apple

by Bsherrin

Rating: everyone
Tags: Applejack, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 3406

Slice of life with Benjamin and Applejack's eldest daughter.

Two mares in the same house can cause trouble whether they're related or no. Can Benjamin find a way for his wife and daughter to live together?

Published 2016-06-29 05:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-06-29 05:30:01 UTC

Wherein I Resolve a Conflict

Airlie Red Apple. What can I say about her? She was my first-born and I loved her dearly from the moment I delivered her and held her in my hooves. She didn't make a sound, either, not even when I washed her off and handed her to Applejack. I called her “Honey Lamb” or “HL” for short until she got older and begged me to stop in case the other foals (or even worse, her siblings) overheard me doing it.

Airlie was the child most like me. Sing-Sing was complete to herself and Jonathan...well, a fine young stallion but he was his mother's son, a born farmer through and through. Airlie, though, was the thinker even from the time she was a little filly. We'd fly kites and she'd run and laugh, then stop and ask how the kite stayed up or why it needed a tail. We'd eat ice cream at the cafe and Airlie would ask the owner if he made it himself and if he did, how did he make it, exactly?

I took her with me to the workshop almost as soon as she understood she had to have my or Jon's permission before she touched. Jon in particular doted on her even after he had his own foals. I'd drop Airlie off with Jon and he'd put her on a high stool so she could watch whatever he was doing that day. She'd occasionally ask questions (good ones) and Jon would answer but mainly Airlie would just sit and watch, her eyes huge in her little face.

All was not perfect, though. Once I had to get out “the belt” and use it on Airlie for sneaking into Jon’s lab, mixing up some chemicals and blowing out a couple of windows. She wasn’t hurt, just singed, but she could have killed herself. Jon didn’t mind and was impressed she’d selected the volatile chemicals correctly but AJ and I were not pleased to say the least. AJ had her doing the farm’s worst chores for two months to pay for the windows which for Airlie was a far worse punishment than the belt; Airlie never did like to get her hooves dirty.

As Airlie grew and started school, I knew she was something special even by my standards. All subjects - math, chemistry, natural philosophy, history, even cursive writing – were easy for her. I encouraged extracurriculars and Airlie learned to dance well, how to present herself (manners and so on) and was exceptionally skilled at judo; Airlie could toss ponies twice her weight across the room with little to no effort. She worked on the farm and did it stoically since she really didn’t enjoy it much. I didn’t, either, but of course I didn’t tell Airlie that since we all worked and that was part of it. Sing-Sing was just the opposite; the dirtier she became, the more she enjoyed it.

One day another filly asked Airlie if she knew how to sew. In true Airlie fashion, she said she didn’t but she’d learn how. She started lessons and mastered the basics in a couple of weeks. Even more important, Airlie loved it and eventually asked Rarity for a part time job at her dress shop. Rarity was only too happy to oblige since she always had trouble finding good help. Rarity grew very fond of Airlie since Airlie was quiet, diligent, very clever and a hard worker.

Rarity ended up not only taking Airlie on several business trips to Canterlot, Manehatten and Hoofington but also exposed Airlie to the finer things in life such a spa days, gourmet food and an upscale clientele. I was absolutely delighted since I knew Airlie was a level-headed filly and also because the Apple family could use a little more couth. Braeburn, of all stallions, agreed and backed me up when I mentioned that at one of the Apple reunions. Applejack was less pleased and looked askance at her eldest “a’puttin’ on airs”.

Just after Airlie was born, some of the older stallions at the Stable of Commerce took me aside and told me two mares in the house would lead to conflict eventually and that it was up to me to deal with it. Those with more than one filly did look a bit worn and the fathers with just stallions all thanked their lucky stars they only had boys since one mare in the house was more than enough.

So, between mares being what they are and Airlie’s predilections, a clash between Airlie and Applejack was inevitable. It came one Summer day when Airlie was 14 and out of school until after harvest. I came home for lunch and as I stepped into the front foyer I heard mother and daughter in a heated exchange.

“No young filly is a’goin’ t’ tell me how t’ run my farm!”

“But, Mother, it’s so old fashioned! I could do the books twice as fast, and more accurately, too.”

“Are ya sayin’ I don’t know what Ah’m doin’? That Ah’m not smart enough t’ run this place?”

I braced myself and stepped into the kitchen. I found Applejack and Airlie almost nose-to-nose, ears pasted flat to their skulls, Applejack in an apron and holding a spoon which she looked like she wanted to use on Airlie. Airlie had much of her height early and was slightly taller than Applejack. Slim, with her velvety black mane, an upright carriage and impeccable grooming, Airlie was quite the attractive young filly. Her anger, like mine, was icy and it was in full force; the room had a distinct chill. Applejack’s eyes put off this sort of green glow when she was really furious and that was happening as well. That didn’t faze Airlie in the least which of course made AJ even angrier.

“What’s this, then?” I said, looking from one mare to the other.

Two right hooves shot up and each pointed at the other. Both talked at once as they turned their glares on me.

“Your daughter is tellin’ me Ah don’t know what Ah’m a’doin’. Ah’ve run this here farm over 30 yars…”

“Dad, Mother is still using a quill pen and a leger book to keep the farms accounts when I could…”

“Enough,” I said, holding up a hoof.

Both of my beautiful mares kept talking at the same time, getting louder and louder.

“Enough, both of you!” I said with a touch of magic and in the voice I only used with my family once or twice a year. That brought quiet along with startled looks. My loved ones sometimes forgot I was not only a husband and father but also the Wizard of Balance and one of the most powerful magic users in the world. Families, I thought. Who would be without them?

“We will table this…discussion…right now and I’ll deal with both of you after lunch. Agreed?”

“Yes, Dad,” said a subdued Airlie.

“’Kay, Malarkey,” said my best filly, looking shamefaced she’d lost her temper.

Fortunately Sing-Sing was on a field trip and Jonathan was staying with relatives in Appleloosa, so we had lunch to ourselves. It was a quiet one, too, with no one saying anything and both mares attending to their plates. When we finished, I nodded and Airlie helped me clean up the kitchen.
When we were all back at the table, I said, “Airlie, would you please come with me this afternoon? I’m making my rounds and would enjoy having you with me.”

“Sure, Dad.”

“All well here, Mother?”

“Ah, welp, it’s laundry and some work in th’ herb garden fer me.”

“We’ll see you later, then. Airlie? We’re off.”

We left the house and turned toward the steam car factory, my first stop. We walked along in a rather tense silence until Airlie said, “I just can’t believe Mother. She’s so…rigid!”

I was waiting for something like that. “Young mare,” I said, “may I remind you your mother is not only one of the living Elements of Harmony but also a Protector of the Realm? She’s saved this country at least twice along with the other Elements.”

Airlie knew this, of course, but was still too annoyed to give any concessions. She kept walking along, her posture perfect as always.

“Your mother was also orphaned at an early age and didn’t have all your advantages.”

Airlie looked at me then. “Like a father?” she asked.

“Like a charming, intelligent and exceptionally handsome father, yes,” I answered throwing back my shoulders, sticking out my chest and stepping out a little further, “who can also dance. Dance well. And sing. Sing well. Very well, actually.”

“Oh, Dad,” Airlie giggled and shoved her shoulder against mine. “You’re so outrageous.” I was glad to see there was a little bit of filly left in my poised young mare.

Our first stop was the steam car factory. I’d timed it so I could talk to the first and second shift supervisors, two exceptionally competent Earth pony stallions who also worked well together. I found both on the floor during the shift change as the second shift workers were clocking in, checking with their first shift counterparts and getting settled. Both supervisors greeted me and Airlie. Airlie was a favorite in the factories since she was a little filly because she was quiet, respectful and didn’t slow down the line.

“What have you, stallions?” I started off.

“Well, it’s station 5, Mr. Inventor,” said Turn Table, the first shift supervisor. “It turns out it takes two ponies to assemble the engine and the same two to bolt the engine into the frame at station 6. The ponies started helping each other at both stations, so we thought we’d make it official.”

Steel Plate, the second shift supervisor, nodded. “That’s right; my boys do the same thing even with a slower line.”

“Hmm,” I said. “The same two on 5 and 6 sounds good. Do you want to change the station setup?”

I listened to both supervisors’ ideas which matched pretty closely, then told them to go ahead. I also agreed to two promotions (I always promoted from within) and suggested rotating the workers between stations. Both supervisors had been crosstraining already, so I authorized a raise each time a pony learned a new job. The factory had the cash and sales were rising, so it wasn’t a problem. I also asked the supervisors to let the employees know Apple and Smithson Manufacturing employees could get a 20% discount at the ice cream parlor for them and for their families. They were more excited about that than about the raises.

Just before the second shift started, I shook hooves with both and headed out; I learned early on the last thing workers needed was The Owner hanging around the line. Airlie followed.

“Where to now, Dad?” she asked.

“To the workshop to see what Mr. Smithson is doing.”

“Oh, good!”

We found Jon at his workbench surrounded by parts of all sorts. He was just lifting a set of cooling fins onto the bench; the only reason I knew what they were was because he’d asked me to make them for him a couple of weeks ago.

“What have you, Jon?”

“Eh?” The faraway look in Jon’s eyes vanished as he returned to this world. “Why, it’s Ben. And Airlie! Airlie, my dear, how are you?” Jon asked as he turned to face her. “My, my, what a beautiful young mare you’ve become! It’s seems only yesterday you were sitting right here watching me work.”

“Hello, Mr. Smithson,” said Airlie with one of her rare dazzling smiles.

“Yes, indeed,” said Jon, remembering. “Oh, Frick is working at the shop today if you’d like to see him.” I’d nicknamed Jon’s twins “Frick” and “Frack” the first time I saw them and to my consternation, the names had stuck. They had real names but nopony (including Pinkie or Jon) ever used them.

“Yes, I would like to see him again,” said Airlie, flushing slightly. Well, well, I thought, my reserved young daughter isn’t quite as detached as she seems. Jon noticed that before I did; how about that?.

“I’m sure he’d be delighted,” said Jon, for once completely present and looking mischievous. “He’s become quite the baker. Make you a cake, he will.”

I tapped a hoof on the floor. “What are you working on, Jon?”

“What? Oh, yes, the new engine. Well, you see, steam is fine but the pressure wears on the metal…”

Jon went on for another 10 minutes and I realized he was working on a Sterling engine. I’d never told him about one or the principles behind it so I was amazed all over again at his genius. I made a few suggestions which Jon scribbled down and Airlie rewrote for him since his handwriting was so terrible. We soon left Jon to it and headed out.

“Did you get any of that?” I asked Airlie.

“Some of it. What’s a ‘regenerative heat exchanger’?” she asked.

I told her as best as I could about how a displacer shunts the air between the hot and cold ends of the cylinder. Most likely she understood it well enough she could explain it after she thought about it some more.

We settled in my favorite spot behind the workshop overlooking Ghastly Gorge. We enjoyed a companionable silence for a few minutes with Airlie leaning her head against my right shoulder exactly the same way Applejack did. It was time to tell my wonderful daughter why I’d asked her to come with me today.

“Airlie,” I said, staring into the gorge. “When you were born, I thought I knew what love was. I didn’t, though; not until I held you in my hooves for the first time. All I knew and all I was - my magic, my knowledge, my skills - became secondary to your happiness and welfare.”

Airlie shifted and I could feel tears running down my shoulder. “Oh, Dad, I love you, too!” Airlie sniffed. I reached for a handkerchief but she already had her own and was dabbing at her eyes and nose. That’s my eldest, always prepared.

“I’m glad, Honey Lamb, I’m so glad,” I said, using her old nickname and kissing her wet nose; I tasted salt tears and Airlie’s bitter chocolate, as familiar to me as Applejack’s cinnamon apples. “Your mother and I couldn’t be more proud of who you’ve become. I also hope you’ll take over the businesses someday, but you can decide that after you finish school. I only want what’s best for you and for you to be happy.”

“Thank you,” Airlie said and gently blew her nose.

“You know, of course, your intellect will soon surpass mine. Eventually you’ll become as intelligent as Mr. Smithson or Princess Twilight. I do look forward to that day. However…”

“Yes?”

“…how you treat those around you is far more important. Everypony will know you’re smarter than they are or ever will be. It will annoy some, frighten others and others will try and use you to their own advantage. Did you notice how I worked with the supervisors? I know the steam car’s design far better than they do, but they know the manufacturing process and the stallions who work there better than I ever could. And did you see how pleased Jon was to see you? You were far more important to him than his work.”

I could see Airlie understood at once what I was saying. “You’re talking about Mother, too, aren’t you?”

“Mmm, perhaps you could have handled that a bit better. For instance, “Can I help you with the accounts, Mother?” And if she’d said ‘no’, then you could have moved onto something else. Of course you know a better way to do it, no question. But does it matter enough to start an argument? Doubtful. So, apply that subtle approach to working with others (including your rather stubborn mother) and you’ll do well. If somepony brings you a problem, by all means, go right ahead and solve it. I’d avoid too many suggestions, though. And believe you me, Airlie, I had to learn this the hard way.”

Airlie was back to herself, sitting up and watching the hawks soar through gorge. “All right, Dad,” she said, and that was that. “And, Dad?”

“Speak.”

“You can…you can call me ‘HL’ sometimes if no one else is around.”

“Oh, can I now? Just us, then? Hmmm, perhaps I’ll make an exception with Frick.”

“DAD!!”

I chuckled. “Just teasing, HL.” I sighed with no small relief. “Very good, very good. Say, why don’t I treat you to some chocolate eclairs at Sugar Cube Corner?” I said, baiting Airlie a bit.

“Oh, that sounds fine!” she said, hopping to her hooves and blushing slightly.

“In a hurry, Daughter? They’re open until 5 which means Frick will still be there.”

Airlie stuck her nose in the air, a gesture she’d copied from Rarity. “No, sir, not at all. I just…want my eclairs. Hmmph.”

We trotted to Sugar Cube Corner. Sure enough, there was Frick, an Earth pony stallion with Jon’s coloring who looked exactly like his mare twin; it was almost eerie to see them together. He was delighted to see Airlie and they chatted away while she ate her eclairs and he worked the counter. I stayed in the background until Airlie was ready to leave. She smiled and sighed as we left the bakery but I didn’t have the heart to tease her anymore. She’d invited Frick to go with her to the next dance and he’d been pleased to accept.

We got back home just as the Sun started to angle toward evening. I needed a few minutes with Applejack, so I said, “Airlie, would you be so good as to spend half an hour visiting with your Uncle Big Mac? Then please bring him for supper.”

“Yes, sir,” and off she went at a decorous trot.

I called out as I walked down the hall. AJ didn’t answer and after looking around I found her in the utility room seated in front of a pile of towels, just staring at them. I nibbled her left ear as usual but got no welcome smooch in return.

“Whar is she?” asked AJ, still staring at the towels.

“Next door,“ I said, nuzzling her. I Knew that wasn’t what AJ meant, though.

Tears started down Applejack’s muzzle. “Whar’d she go, my sweet little filly? What happened t’ her? What happened to the filly Ah’d sing t’ sleep at night as she lay next t’ me? Whar’s th’ filly who was so proud when she learned t’ read?”

I put my mouth against her left ear and murmured, “Gone, my lover, gone forever. Gone and she’s not coming back.”

AJ started sobbing, then, deep, wrenching sobs. I put a hoof over her shoulder and held her close. AJ never cried for long and soon stopped. She wiped her face and blew her nose on a towel, then tossed it back into the pile.

“But…,” I said, as Applejack looked up at me, “…in her place is beautiful, intelligent and very talented young mare who loves you and who wants your approval more than almost anything.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yes.”

Applejack sat up straight, the movement reminding me strongly of Airlie. “Welp, I gotta get these towels a’goin’. Would ye start choppin’ the salad fixin’s fer me?”

“I shall indeed.”

A few minutes later Airlie showed up with Big Mac. “In the utility room,” I said, gesturing with a knife. Big Mac took a seat at the table and he and I nodded to one another. He loved his niece and sister and understood exactly what had happened; more perceptive than most, my brother-in-law. Neither of us listened in but we could hear the mares talking. Soon both came into the kitchen. Both had been crying again but were fine now, hooves thrown over each other’s shoulders.

Applejack and Airlie took over the preparations while I served Big Mac some brie and crackers with a pint of ale. I had a pint myself and joined him at the kitchen table. We watched the two mares working side-by-side, talking quietly. “Mares,” I said to Big Mac, “who would be without them?”

“Yup”, he said. I couldn’t have put it better myself.