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Chapter One: In Which Our Protagonist Arrives In Ponyville
The shack was in the middle of nowhere, hidden in the woods with no roads or trails leading to or from it. "Ramshackle" was too good a word for it. Only one of the windows remained intact, though it had a spider's-web-shaped network of cracks in it. The roof had more holes than a colander and the walls leaned as if in a perpetual wind. Weeds had run wild around the edges, doing their best to hide the eyesore.
"Home sweet home," Sketch muttered to himself. It had been completely by chance that he had run across the shack. After spending the night in the woods he had been trying to find his way back out when he caught sight of the dilapidated structure out of the corner of his eye. Having little money to his name, this would be the best he could do in terms of lodging for the time being.
Since there was no door to open, Sketch strolled past the bare doorframe, dragging his wagon behind him by the rope tied to his saddlebag. He glanced around at the dirty interior and decided to buy a broom once he got into town. No sense in sleeping on a filthy floor. Plus, the dirt and dust would be bad for his paintings.
After stashing his wagon in the corner that had the least holes above it, he pulled out his map and smoothed it out over the dirt-encrusted floor with both hooves. The town of Ponyville wasn't too far away, maybe a half-hour's trot. Once he was there, his stomach reminded him with a gurgle and a sharp pain, he could use the last of his money to get a bit of food. Unless the purchase of the broom left him broke. He did, after all, have his priorities.
***
The town of Ponyville had never been mentioned by anypony whom Sketch knew. Its existence on the map was a surprise to him. It was his intuition, that gut-instinct that he had come to trust over the years, which urged him to go southward to the unknown place. Now that he was in the midst of the bright and cheerful town, he couldn't help but feel a complete sense of culture shock. Everypony was smiling. Everypony . He heard bouts of laughter here and there, and off in the distance young ponies were screaming playfully. It was a far cry from the uptight citizens of his home city of Whinnypeg.
However, he noticed that he was getting the same types of glances that he received back home. It was to be expected, of course; even though the long, gray overcoat covered much of his body, Sketch's hair was uncommonly purple for a male pony; a dark, glossy purple. The young colts used to tease him in school, calling him "mare hair" among other things. The memories caused Sketch to heave a big sigh, but he pushed them back down and lifted his head, tossing back his shaggy brown mane. It was time for a new start.
The general store was easy to locate and the broom didn't cost too much, so after making the purchase Sketch cantered over to the bakery he had passed earlier to see what he could get with his leftover money. The aromas were overwhelming – breads, cakes, pies, and every pastry under Equestria's sun. Sketch's stomach began doing somersaults and he nearly doubled over. He managed to make it to the counter just as a stallion with yellow hair, a paper hat, and an apron smudged with icing appeared.
"Well, good day there!" the proprietor said with a friendly smile. "Welcome to Sugarcube Corner. What can I do for you?"
"Hi. I was wondering - do you happen to have savory pies as well sweet ones?" Sketch asked with a hopeful raise of his brow.
"You bet! We got some nice vegetable pot pies, stuffed with peas, carrots, and potatoes. The best in Ponyville."
Sketch's head spun as he imagined how delicious one of those would taste. "How much would that cost me?"
When the pony told him, Sketch's face fell. It was exactly two bits more than what he had. "Oh. Is, uh, a loaf of plain bread a little cheaper?"
The baker fixed Sketch with a concerned look and said, "If you're fixed for money, I'll take an IOU. Don’t want to see a customer go hungry."
"Oh no, that's all right," Sketch replied quickly, shaking his head. "I can't."
"Sure you can," the pony smiled. "You seem trustworthy enough."
"Thanks, but I really mean that I can't. I don’t have any money beyond what little I have right now, and I'm new in town so I don't have a job. I'll be fine with the bread, really."
"Hmm," the pony thought, rubbing his jutting chin with a hoof. "I could use someone to make a delivery for me today. My wife's busy in the kitchen all afternoon and Pinkie Pie is off today. If you'd be willing to run a couple of boxes of cupcakes over to the library, that veggie pie is yours, even-Steven."
"Oh, sure! I'd be happy to," Sketch said with a smile of relief. "Thank you so much."
"You're welcome, er… what did you say your name was?"
"I didn't, but it's Sketch."
"Nice to meet you, Sketch. I’m Mr. Cake by the way. Let me grab one of those pies for you, and while you're eating I'll get the cupcakes packaged up to go." With that the baker trotted back to the kitchen.
The whole exchange was a tad surreal for Sketch. Not only was he not used to being treated with courtesy and downright friendliness, no one in Whinnypeg would ever have allowed a trade like this. It would have been money or a bucking out the door.
When Mr. Cake returned with a steaming veggie pie and Sketch caught a whiff of it, his mouth began to water and all thoughts of his hometown disappeared.
***
The library was the most unique building Sketch had ever seen, in-so-much that it was a building. It was actually a hollowed out tree with windows, doors, and ledges. He stood out front, tracing over the details with his eyes, taking in every angle. He rarely painted buildings, but he was mulling it over as a possible subject.
The front door opened, startling Sketch from his thoughts. His amazement grew tenfold when he saw the diminutive figure in the doorway. The creature was purple-scaled with green spikes running from the top of its head to the tip of its tail. It looked at Sketch and asked, "Oh, uh, can I help you?"
"Rrr oo uh agon?"
"Huh?"
Embarrassed, Sketch realized he still had the string holding the packages together in his mouth. He set the boxes down and repeated, "Are you a dragon?"
The creature raised an eyebrow and glanced down at himself. "No, I'm a chicken."
Sketch looked away embarrassedly. "Sorry. I've just never seen a dragon before."
"Don't worry about it, I'm just messin' with ya'," the dragon said with a toothy grin.
"Oh. I, uh, have a package here for Twilight Sparkle from Sugarcube Corner."
"She's inside. I can take that for you." The dragon picked up the boxes and headed back for the doorway.
"Wait!" Sketch called, stopping the dragon in his tracks. "Do you, um, mind if I peek inside? I've never seen a building like this before."
"Sure, come on in." Sketch followed the purple dragon inside and looked around wide-eyed. Adorning nearly every inch of the walls were books of every size and color sitting on recessed shelves carved right into the body of the tree. The shelves went up about three or four ponies high. As he looked up at the higher shelves his eyes caught sight of a loft area with a bed. Someone actually lived there?
"Hey Twilight, the cupcakes are here!" the dragon said.
"Oh good! Who's this, Spike?" Sketch looked to where the voice was coming from and saw a unicorn sitting at a desk with an open book in front of her. Her hair was purple, though a lighter shade than his. Her mane was an interesting combination of colors; dark blue with two stripes of color, one pink and one purple.
"Oops, I didn't ask his name," Spike said, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment and looking at Sketch for help.
"I'm Sketch. Sorry for intruding, but I really wanted to see the inside of this building. It's amazing!"
"I don't mind," the unicorn said with a smile. "I thought the same thing when I first saw it. I'm Twilight Sparkle. And this is my trusty assistant, Spike."
"Do you actually live here?"
"Uh-huh. I'm a student of Princess Celestia's, so a library was the best place for me to live and do research."
"Wow," breathed Sketch. He had seen Princess Celestia once as a colt, but had never had the opportunity to meet her. And there were plenty of ponies in Whinnypeg who claimed to have met the princess at some formal function or another. But until now he had never known anyone who was directly connected with the ruler of Equestria.
"Are you new around here?" Twilight asked, getting down from her chair and approaching Sketch. "I've never seen you before."
"Yeah, I just arrived today. I, uh, made a deal with Mr. Cake to deliver those cupcakes to you in exchange for some food since his usual helper was off."
"Pinkie Pie wasn't there?" Twilight asked and then smirked. "You're lucky, then."
"Why's that?"
"If she had seen you she'd be planning a big surprise party for you. For being new in town."
"Oh. Does she do that a lot? Throw parties I mean?"
Twilight laughed. "More than you can imagine." She paused, considering something, and then said, "Actually, I'm throwing a little get-together with some friends tonight, including Pinkie Pie. That's what the cupcakes are for. Would you like to join us?"
"Oh no, I don't want to impose."
"It's no imposition. There's enough food for everypony and it would be a chance for you to get to meet some others in town."
Sketch bit his lower lip. He didn't want to come off as standoffish, but the get-togethers and parties where he came from were always stuffy affairs, and he had hated going to them. While he was happy to have been asked, he just couldn't bring himself to accept.
"I appreciate the offer, I really do," he responded. "But I have some work to do tonight. I'm an artist, you see, and I haven't had a chance to work on anything lately, and-"
"An artist? Interesting!" Twilight replied. "I don’t think we have too many artists here in Ponyville."
Sketch gave a half-smile. "Yeah, I guess it's a pretty strange profession, if you can call it that."
"Not at all," Twilight shook her head. "It's unique. I like unique."
That was definitely something Sketch had never heard growing up. Uniqueness was a form of perversity in Whinnypeg. If you didn't look and act like everyone else, you were less than dirt. He smiled and said, "You know, I think I'm really going to like it here."
Twilight beamed and said, "I know you will. Are you sure you can't come tonight?"
Again, Sketch politely declined. He really did want to use the inspiration of a new setting and a new life to start in on some paintings. His travels hadn't given him any time to do work on anything.
"Okay, but if you change your mind come on over. And if you don't come, just be warned – Pinkie Pie will find out about you eventually. Then you won't have any choice but to party." Sketch thought the mare was joking, but her eyes betrayed her seriousness.
"I'll, uh, be prepared," he responded. "It was nice meeting both of you."
"You too. See you around!"
"Bye, Sketch!" Spike called from another room.
Sketch left the library and looked up at the sky. There were only a few hours left before the sun would start to set, so if he wanted light to paint by he needed to get back to his shack as quickly as possible. He double-checked that his broom was secured on one side of his saddle-bag and the loaf of bread he had purchased at the bakery was secured on the other side, and then made his way out of Ponyville.
***
The canvas remained blank all evening, and then it became too dark to see anything clearly. Sketch sat back on his haunches, defeated and depressed. He was sure that after that day he would have a ton of inspiration for a new painting. But as he had stared at the unpainted canvas, brush between his teeth and paint drying on his palette, nothing came to him. He thought of the library, he thought of the town, he thought of all the ponies he had seen and the ones he had met, but still nothing.
To make matters worse, rats had torn into his bread while he was busy staring at the canvas, and so he was left with nothing to eat. "I should have gone to the party," he whispered to himself, closing his eyes and shaking his head. At least there would have been food there.
With a great sigh he packed up his supplies and stored them in his wagon, covering it all with a tarp to keep it safe. Pulling his coat around him as well as a threadbare blanket to ward off the night chill, he lay down on the newly swept floor and closed his eyes. All around him were the sounds of the forest – crickets chirping, the leaves rustling against one another, and the far off hoots of an owl. He tried to be happy in that moment, surrounded by nature, but was interrupted by a sharp hunger pang. It was going to be a rough night.
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Chapter Two: In Which Our Protagonist Seeks Employment
The following morning Sketch awoke from an hour-long stretch of actual sleep. Being exhausted and hungry, he felt like manure. "I can't go on like this," he muttered to himself, standing and stretching his cramped legs. "Not if I'm going to start a new life here." Then he followed up with something he didn't want to hear himself say: "I'm going to have to get a job."
Ultimately, Sketch's plan had been to arrive in Ponyville and sell his artwork for money. But, as the previous evening had proved, inspiration didn't seem forthcoming and he couldn't sit around and wait for it to arrive. He didn't want to go from starving artist to starved-to-death artist. So he shook the dust from his coat and tried to smooth out his shaggy mane, hoping he looked somewhat presentable, and resolved to return to the shack that evening an employed pony.
Unsure of who might be hiring or in need of help, Sketch stopped by the library to see Twilight Sparkle. She had been nice enough and seemed pretty knowledgeable. Spike answered the door in mid-yawn. "Hey, Sketch! You missed a fun party last night!"
With a forced smile, Sketch shrugged and then asked, "Is Twilight Sparkle around?"
"As long as there are still books in here, she's around." The dragon turned and called into the library, "Hey Twilight, it's Sketch."
"Hi, Sketch!" Twilight said, in the exact same place she had been the day before, only now it was a different book she was reading.
"Hi. I was, uh, wondering if you could help me with something."
"Sure! What is it?"
"Well, I sort of need a job. Do you know if anypony in town might be hiring?"
"Oh," the mare rolled her eyes upward in thought and rubbed her chin. "The saddlebag store was looking for someone, but I think they just filled that position. Hmm…" Her face lit up. "I know! You can ask Applejack! It's nearly applebucking season and I'm sure she could use the help."
"Applebucking?" Sketch asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You kick the tree to get all the apples down," Spike interjected.
"Ah." Manual labor wasn't quite the route Sketch had wanted to go, but if it was the only thing available he couldn't afford to be choosy. Without it he couldn't afford anything .
At that moment, Sketch's stomach made a very audible gurgle and the pony flinched. "Oh my goodness," Twilight said, leaping down from her chair. "Are you all right? What have you eaten today?"
"Er, nothing," Sketch said, looking away embarrassedly.
"Spike, go get that cupcake that was left over from last night."
"Awww, I was saving that…" the dragon grumbled and shuffled out of the room.
"Please, no, I'm fine," Sketch insisted.
"You are not fine," Twilight insisted in a firm tone of voice. "If I can hear your stomach rumbling from across the room there's something wrong."
She didn't seem as if she was the type of pony to back down, so Sketch lowered his head and mumbled, "I'll pay you back, I promise."
"What? You don't have to pay me back. You're not buying the cupcake from me; I'm giving it to you."
"I know, it's just… I'll pay you back." Twilight seemed about to argue some more, but Spike reappeared at that moment with a large cupcake that had a mountain of frosting on it.
In response to the sight of the sugary confection, Sketch's stomach made another loud gurgle, and Spike's eyes went wide. "Okay, I take it back - you definitely need this more than I do." Sketch thanked the little dragon and took the cupcake with his hoof, looking at Twilight. It seemed that she was determined to make sure he ate it, so, feeling self-conscious, he did. It was one of the most delicious things he had ever eaten. The icing was sweet, but not cloying, and the cake, even though it was a day old, was still moist.
When he finished, he licked his lips and said, "Thank you, Twilight. I'll-"
"Pay me back, I know," she said with a smirk and a roll of her eyes. "But I wish you'd stop saying that. It's just a cupcake."
"Not just for the cupcake, but for helping me find a job. And, you know, for being so nice." He cocked his head to the side as he had a thought. "Hey, I know. Would you like a portrait of yourself?"
"A portrait?" Twilight said, her eyebrows raising. "Sure! That would look great in here! But I still don't think you need to pay me for anything."
"A portrait it is then," Sketch said, relieved. "Just let me know when might be a good day to stop by and do it."
"Probably sometime next week."
"Got it. Well, I better go find… Applejack was it?"
"Yep, Applejack. She's over at Sweet Apple Acres. I can't guarantee that she'll hire you, but tell her I sent you. You never know." She gave Sketch directions to get there from the library.
"Thanks again, Twilight. I'm really grateful."
"You're welcome." There was a pause and she asked, "Sketch, where are you from? I'm getting the impression that you're not used to people being… friendly."
"Whinnypeg."
"Oh dear, that explains it." The mare gave Sketch a sad smile. "When I was in Canterlot I heard stories about Whinnypeg. It sounded like a place I wouldn’t want to visit on a vacation."
"You don't. You're so nice they'd think you're crazy and run you out of town."
Twilight laughed. "Well, you seemed to have turned out all right."
Sketch looked away. "Yeah, well, it wasn't without my share of problems."
"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
"No, no, it's okay." He gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm not the norm in Whinnypeg, so I'm sure you can imagine how fun it was to grow up there." Twilight just nodded. "Well, I'll be going now. Thanks again, and I'll see you next week."
***
It was a beautiful day out, and Sketch enjoyed the feel of the sun on his head as he made his way down the road leading away from the Ponyville proper. He felt a lot better after eating the cupcake, and was glad that he had thought of a way to repay Twilight for her kindness. Being in debt was not something he wanted to make a habit of in his new home.
Out of nowhere came a blast of wind and a rainbow trail of colors overheard. Sketch's hair was blown out of his eyes and his coat flapped in the sudden rush of air. He turned his head and looked behind him. What on Equestria was that?
Just as quickly a blur headed back his way, and Sketch ducked low to the ground with his hooves over his head. Another burst of wind hit him, and then a voice above him said, "Hey, sweet coat!"
Sketch risked a glance upwards and saw a blue pegasus with a rainbow mane and matching tail hovering overhead. "Uh, thanks," he responded, raising his head back up. "Most ponies don't even notice it."
"Yeah, well, I know cool when I see it."
At a loss for a response, Sketch said, "I, uh, like your mane."
"It is pretty awesome, isn't it?" the pegasus said with a not-so-modest smile. She landed next to Sketch and walked around him, studying his coat. "So where'd you get it?"
"Someone gave it to me."
"Must've been someone pretty cool."
"Yeah, he was…" Sketch said in a low voice, but the pegasus missed it.
"You new around here?" Sketch nodded. "I'm Rainbow Dash. Maybe you've heard of me?" She stood proudly with head held high, a confident look on her face.
"Uh, sorry, can't say I have. But don't take it personally; I never really got out much."
"Well, I'll be the first to tell you that I'm kind of a big deal. I'm training to be in the Wonderbolts."
"Oh. Wow." Sketch had indeed heard of the Wonderbolts. They had been doing an air show the one time he had visited Canterlot. He had begged his parents to take him the show, but they couldn't justify spending the money on something that frivolous. "I'd love to see some of your tricks sometime."
"How about right now?"
She seemed so excited to perform for Sketch that he felt bad saying, "I'm sorry, I'm in a bit of a hurry. I'm trying to get to Sweet Apple Acres." He quickly added, "But I promise I'll watch you sometime soon."
"Aw, all right," Rainbow Dash replied, crestfallen. "Well, you're almost there. It's just over the hill. You can't miss the trees."
"Thanks," Sketch said, and then because he felt bad about disappointing her, he added, "I meant what I said, by the way. I really like your mane. I've never seen one that colorful."
That perked up the pegasus, and she beamed. "Hey, thanks… uh, what's your name?"
"Sketch."
"Nice to meet ya', Sketch. You've made my list of cool ponies."
"I'm, uh, honored. Well, I guess I'll see you around."
"Okay. Don't forget your promise!" With that Rainbow Dash flew out of there, leaving a rainbow trail behind her.
Sketch shook his head and smiled as he continued trotting up the path. He was certainly meeting some interesting ponies. It was the complete opposite of what he was used to. Stallions and mares of the same dull colors, same dull clothing, and same dull personalities. He was going to love living in Ponyville… provided he could make some money to keep himself alive long enough to enjoy it.
Rainbow Dash had been right; as soon as Sketch crested the hill he saw hundreds of apple trees budding with new fruit. He stood on the top of the hill just letting his eyes roam over the trees. It was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever witnessed. "If this doesn't inspire, I'm not sure what will," he breathed.
As he trotted down the path towards the farm he ran across a large stallion with bright red hair. He wore a wooden yoke around his neck, and was chewing on a sprig of wheat. It looked as if he was busy fixing up a wagon with a broken wheel.
"Hi, excuse me," Sketch said softly, getting the pony's attention.
"Eeyup?" the red pony replied, sleepily glancing Sketch's way.
"I'm, uh, looking for Applejack. Is she around?"
"Eeyup."
There was a pause and Sketch added, "Um, where can I find her?" The big pony pointed a hoof back towards the big farmhouse. "Thanks."
"Eeyup," came the response, and the big pony went back to work.
In front of the farmhouse was a pony with orange hair and a long, yellow mane tied into a ponytail that spilled out from under a large-brimmed hat. She was busy fiddling with a large basket when Sketch approached, and a dog that had been sleeping near her sprang to life, barking.
"What is it, Winona? Oh, howdy!" Like all ponies, this one's eyes studied Sketch, taking in his odd appearance. But when her green eyes met his own, a shiver ran down Sketch's spine. There was something about her eyes, something beyond the eyes, that made him speechless for a moment.
When he finally caught a hold of his voice, he said, "Uh, howdy. I mean, hello. Hi." He felt a blush warming his cheeks, but thankfully because of the darkness of his hair his blushes were nearly impossible to see. "I'm, uh, Sketch."
"Pleased to meetcha, Sketch. Mah name's Applejack. What can ah do for ya?" She had a country accent that Sketch found himself enjoying.
"Well, I… see, I'm new and… well, I'm looking for work, and… um…" He cleared his throat and stood a little taller, shaking his shaggy mane out of his face. "I'm new to Ponyville and I'm looking for work. Twilight Sparkle said you might be able to help."
"Lookin' for work, huh?" Applejack said, sitting back on her haunches. She lifted her hat and scratched her head with her other hoof. "Don't normally hire folks to work here. This here's a family-run farm."
"Oh," Sketch's head drooped a bit. "Twilight didn't mention that."
"And ah gotta be honest, Sketch, ya don't look like much of an applebucker."
"I'm probably not. But," he added quickly, "I'm a hard worker. And I always make good on my promises. And I promise to work my absolute hardest if you hire me."
"Well ah admire that," Applejack responded with a smile. When she smiled, Sketch noticed, her eyes sparkled like gemstones. "Tell ya what. We still got a couple'a weeks before applebuckin' season officially starts. You show up every mornin' for trainin', and ah'll get ya ready for some real applebuckin'. Ah'll even pay ya some for the trainin'. It won't be much, but-"
"It doesn't need to be," Sketch interrupted eagerly, smiling from ear to ear. "Thank you so much! I'll even start today. Right now!"
"Whoa, Nelly," Applejack raised a hoof. "There's more. Now, if ah don't think yer cut out for applebuckin', ah'm gonna have to let you go, okay?"
"That's fair," Sketch nodded. Even if he was just going to get paid for the training, that was something to start with.
"All right. Now, no need to go gettin' worked up for trainin' today. Ah'd like to get to know the pony ah might be hirin'. Think of it like an orientation."
"Oh, right. Sure."
"Why don't ya grab that basket over there and lend me a hoof. Ah'm makin' sure these here baskets are all sound for holdin' the apples that we buck. Ah'll show ya what to do, and we can talk at the same time, okay?"
"Okay," Sketch said with a smile, fetching the large wooden basket that Applejack had indicated. He noticed one of the boards was loose. Applejack gave Sketch some directions on how to fix it, and then said, "So where ya from, Sketch?"
"Whinnypeg."
"Hmm, never heard of it. Where's that?"
"Up north."
"Gotcha. Never been too far north mahself. Is it worth visitin'?"
"Not in the least."
Applejack must have caught the tone in Sketch's voice because she gave him an understanding smile and nodded. "Where you livin' now?"
"Uh," Sketch paused for a moment and didn't meet Applejack's eyes. "A little place outside the town limits."
There was silence from Applejack, and Sketch was sure that she knew he was hiding something. But she didn't pry any farther and he relaxed when she changed the subject. "So ya met Twilight, huh?"
"Yeah. She's really nice."
"She is. Took her a bit to get used to things 'round here when she moved in, but she settled in nicely. She's one of us now."
"She's not from Ponyville?" Sketch looked up, surprised.
"Nuh-uh. She came in from Canterlot."
"Oh, right! She mentioned studying with Princess Celestia, but I didn't put two and two together." Sketch suddenly felt a stronger connection to Twilight now that he knew she was an outsider who had settled in Ponyville as well. And it proved that someone from a different upbringing could indeed mesh into the community.
For the rest of the day Sketch chatted with Applejack while fixing several baskets. He didn't talk too much about himself, just a few tidbits here and there. Applejack seemed to sense his desire to keep away from his past, so she just asked him about his likes and dislikes, and what he wanted to do in Ponyville. She reciprocated, telling him stories about herself and the farm, and some of the adventures that she and her friends had gone on. Sketch was entranced; he had never heard anyone tell stories involving dragons, or hydras, or even the infamous Nightmare Moon. It was incredible, and he was amazed he got any work done at all. But he did, and at the end of the day Applejack thanked him and told him to be at the farm the following morning.
Sketch's trot back home was a happy one, and he was bursting with inspiration. His mind swirled with images and ideas, and he was ready to grab his paintbrush and get started. Unfortunately, his head was so in the clouds that he didn't realize how late it was until he was nearing his shack. The sun was so far down that the trees blocked the remaining sunlight, leaving him in darkness. There was no way he'd be able to see the canvas clearly in order to paint.
"Candles," he said to himself, followed by a huge sigh. "I need to buy some candles."
When he was able to catch an hour or two of sleep throughout the night, he dreamt of dragons and apple trees and pretty green eyes.
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Chapter Three: In Which Our Protagonist Falls Ill
When Sketch woke up the following morning, he glanced at the corner in which he had stored his painting supplies. It still pained him that he hadn't been able to create anything the night before. For a moment he considered trying to paint before heading back to Sweet Apple Acres, but he knew how focused he got when painting and he usually lost track of time. It would be better to get to the farm as quickly as possible to show Applejack how good of a worker he could be.
His hunger had once again grown through night, and his stomach made angry noises as he left the shack. Applejack had mentioned that she'd pay Sketch at the end of the week, which was two days away. He wasn't quite sure what he'd do in the meantime, but since his options were limited to nothing all he could do was head to work and ignore the hunger. It was something he had gotten good at over the past several weeks.
After the half hour walk to Ponyville, ignoring became a lot more difficult. The smells coming from Sugarcube Corner made things worse. But he continued on, returning smiles as ponies passed by and greeted him, which was something he still needed to get used to. Where he came from, everypony had their noses in the air and minded their own business when they walked by.
When he reached the farmhouse at Sweet Apple Acres, he caught sight of Applejack's face in the window. The orange pony smiled when she saw Sketch and she waved him inside. As soon as he stepped through the door the smell of food hit him full force, rocking him on his hooves.
"Whoa there, sugar cube, you okay?" Applejack asked with concern in her voice.
"Yeah, I'm just a bit… I'm okay."
"Yer a rotten liar, ya know," the pony gave him a half-smile. "Ah know a hungry pony when ah see one. You come on into the dinin' room and sit down."
"No, I'm fine, really, I-"
"Now you listen here, Sketch. No pony on this here farm works on an empty stomach. You sit on down with the rest of us and eat up. You got that?" There was a tone of firmness in Applejack's voice, and when Sketch looked into her eyes he saw an unflinchingly hard expression there.
"Yes ma'am," he responded with a sheepish bow of his head.
Applejack's face softened and she put a hoof on his shoulder, and then led him into the dining room. Sitting at the table was the big red pony he had met the day before, a younger pony with yellow hair and a red mane, and an older green-haired pony. He had learned their names the day before in conversation with Applejack, but he couldn't for the life of him think of their names at that moment. Luckily, Applejack seemed to sense that.
"Sketch, this here's Big McIntosh, Apple Bloom, and Granny Smith. This here's Sketch, and he's trainin' to work with us this applebuckin' season." Big McIntosh nodded in greeting, Apple Bloom gave him an enthusiastic hello, and Granny Smith said something he couldn't quite make sense of. He just nodded in greeting, unsure of what to say.
He took a seat at the table with the rest of the ponies, eyeing the food in front of him. There was a stack of flapjacks a mile high with fried apple topping in a bowl next to it, and a frosty pitcher of apple juice to wash the meal down with. It had been some time since he had sat down at a table for an actual meal, and it took him a moment to get his bearings before he realized Applejack was looking at him.
"You just go on ahead and eat as much as you need to, Sketch," she said in a gentle voice. "We can always make more."
A lump rose in Sketch's throat at the sheer kindness he was experiencing, but he swallowed it back down and smiled, nodding in silent appreciation. He piled a stack of five flapjacks on his plate and covered them with the fried apples. It was delicious, and he found himself going back for seconds and then thirds.
By the end of the meal the ponies laughed at the fact that he had eaten more than Big McIntosh had.
***
"No, no, you're still puttin' all your weight into yer hooves. You wanna keep that weight in yer flanks and use that to drive yer hooves right into the trunk."
Several hours of training had left Sketch tired and sore, not to mention a tiny bit frustrated. He had figured all there was to it was to kick the tree and down came the apples, but there was a whole lot more to it than that. Taking a deep breath and keeping Applejack's words in mind, Sketch steeled himself once more and kicked his back legs into the large sand bag that Applejack had hung from the rafters of the barn.
"Much better," the orange pony beamed at her trainee. "You had power in that one. Don't forget that yer power comes from yer flank muscles. Ya' gotta build those up in order to get a good, solid buckin', otherwise you'll be left with a hoof-full of apples danglin' from the branches. You wanna get 'em all down in one go."
"Got it," Sketch responded with a deep exhalation, and he went to sit down, only to be attacked with a burning cramp. He yelped and stood back up, stretching his back left leg.
"Yeah, sorry, ah should've mentioned that yer gonna be pretty sore in that area for a spell until you get used to buckin'. Ya might wanna get a nice, soft cushion to be sittin' on."
"I'll keep that in mind," Sketch said, knowing full well that he did not have a cushion to sit on, nor would he be buying one. He was about to ask if they were done for the day when a sneezing fit rocked him.
Applejack gave him a worried look. "That's about the fifth or sixth time you've sneezed like that in an hour, Sketch. You sure yer not gettin' sick?"
"Nah, I'm fine," Sketch replied with a sniffle. "I don't get sick. Must be something around the farm making me sneezy."
"All right, then," Applejack said, sounding rather unconvinced. "Ah say we've done enough for today. Don't want you burnin' yerself out. You go on home and get some rest and ah'll see you back here again tomorrow."
"Thanks, Applejack. I really appreciate this."
"Yer more than welcome, sugar cube." He loved it when she called him that, and he gave her a big smile before he limped his way out of the barn.
As Sketch made the long trek back to his shack, he realized that it was early enough in the day that he'd be home in time to catch the last of the sunlight. He'd be able to do some painting! That thought alone kept him moving forward through the town and through the woods as if he were as light as air. It wasn't until he had the brush in his mouth and was standing before the canvas that he realized how achy his leg muscles were and how exhausted he was. The will to paint was strong, but his flesh was too weak. Defeated once again, he used the last of his energy to pack everything back up and lay down on the cold floor, sneezing a few times before conking out.
***
He awoke to the sound of thunder overhead and sat up, immediately succumbing to a wet cough deep in his chest. "I guess it wasn't allergies after all," he said to himself in a thick voice. It was pitch black outside and he wondered what time it was. Then came the pit-pat of raindrops and he felt spatters of cold water against his face. "Oh no," he groaned, coughing again, and managed to pull his blanket up over himself before the pit-pats turned into rapid thumping. In no time he was soaked. He thought briefly of getting under his tarp, but he had to protect his painting supplies. They were all he had in the way of possessions, and they were what he needed to eventually make a living. He couldn't risk them getting damaged. So he took refuge next to his cart, being that it was under the section of roof with the least amount of holes in it, and tried to go back to sleep.
Unfortunately, it turned out the floor of the shack was on a slant, and all the water that landed on the ground dribbled its way downwards towards him. To make matters worse, the frequency of his sneezing and coughing began to increase. All he could do was curl up into a tight ball and think warm thoughts.
After an hour or so of shaking, sneezing, and coughing, he lost consciousness.
***
The rain had stopped when Sketch woke. He couldn't move. Every muscle in his body, not just in his flanks, was achy and sore. He was shivering, still lying in a puddle of cold water, but he felt hot and sweaty. All he could do was lie on the floor of his leaky home and think about how much Applejack would be disappointed in him for not showing up on only his second day. She might even fire him for it. The thought made him even more miserable than he already was, and he tried to push it out of his mind, but those green eyes kept haunting him, hovering over him and looking at him in disappointment.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, and lost consciousness again.
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Chapter Four: In Which Our Protagonist Recovers
When Sketch woke again he realized something was wrong. He was comfortable, despite the aches he felt up and down his body. A thick blanket covered him, providing more warmth than his old, thin one. And he smelled a mixture of flowers and animals.
Confused, he was about to open his eyes when he heard hushed voices.
"Ah should've found out exactly where he was stayin'."
"It's not your fault, Applejack. You were just respecting his privacy."
"He could've died out there by himself, Twilight."
"But he didn't. And it was because you were worried about him that we were able to find him."
Curious, Sketch opened his eyes and glanced around. There were flowering plants scattered about, and a thick pink blanket covered him. At the foot of the bed were Twilight Sparkle and Applejack, and next to him was a pony he didn't recognize. She had yellow hair and a long, pink mane, and she was watching him very closely.
"Um, he's awake," the yellow-haired pony said in a soft and gentle voice.
"Sketch, how are you feeling?" Twilight asked nearly galloping to the other side of the bed.
"Drier," he responded in a hoarse voice, giving the purple pony a tiny smile. She returned it, her muscles relaxing. "Where am I?"
"Fluttershy's cottage," Twilight said, pointing a hoof at the pink-maned pony. "Her place was the closest to that shack you were in."
"How did you find me?"
"Applejack was concerned when you didn't show up yesterday morning and came to me. I used a locating spell to find you. By the time we got to you, you were burning up with a terrible fever."
"What in tarnation were ya thinkin' stayin' in that place?" Applejack said, taking a place next to Twilight, her green eyes hard. "That's no way for a pony to live!"
Sketch was about to respond when Twilight said, "Calm down, Applejack. Let him get some rest before you start in on him."
Applejack's face softened and she said, "Ah'm sorry, Sketch. Ah was just worried about ya, is all."
Sketch smiled and said, "It's okay, I appreciate it. And I promise you can yell at me later." The orange pony let herself smile at that.
"I think he needs some rest now," Fluttershy said in her quiet voice.
"You're right," Twilight said. "Nurse Redheart should be here soon, Sketch. Spike ran into town to ask her to make a house call. In the meantime, Fluttershy will take care of you."
Sketch just nodded, his eyelids getting heavy. "Thank you. All of you. I don't how I'll repay you for this, but-"
"Oh for goodness' sake," Twilight responded in an exasperated voice. "Don't start that again. Just rest up and get better, okay?"
Too weak to argue, Sketch just let his head relax into the pillow.
***
Sketch wasn't sure how long he had been sleeping before the nurse arrived, but he was still very much out of it. The white-haired pony, of whom he only caught glimpses here and there through half-open eyelids, checked his vitals and asked him questions.
"You look severely undernourished, Sketch," she mentioned, running a hoof over his rib cage. "What has your diet been like of late?"
"Large helpings of delicious nothing," he answered groggily, trying to joke.
The medical mare didn't find it funny. "It's no wonder you got sick. If you haven't been eating and keeping up your strength, your body is probably very weak right now."
"Been traveling," Sketch said in a whisper, his head lolling to the side. "No money."
"Well, I'll have a talk with your friends. You can't continue on like this." Sketch nodded without opening his eyes and Nurse Redheart starting talking to Fluttershy in a low voice. "He's past the rough stage, but I think only barely. You ponies got to him just in time. Make sure he stays warm and dry, and give him plenty of fluids. When he's ready to eat, stick with broth until he has some more strength back, then slowly start adding in solids. If he gets worse, come and get me right away."
Fluttershy's barely audible voice responded with, "Yes, Nurse Redheart. Thank you so much."
With the knowledge that he was going to get better, Sketch relaxed and fell asleep again.
***
The following morning Sketch felt like a new pony. He was still weak and stayed in bed most of the day, but he was able to sit up and converse with his hostess. Fluttershy was more than attentive, and she always helped with a smile. She was so gentle that Sketch couldn't help but talk to her at the same volume that she talked to him. He felt that if he raised his voice any farther she would break apart from the mere force of it.
While Fluttershy was out tending to the animals that afternoon – as Sketch had learned was the pegasus's job – he leaned back against the headboard and started thinking. Applejack's words started ringing in his ears over and over – What in tarnation were ya thinkin' stayin' in that place? That's no way for a pony to live! What had he been thinking? He hadn't even tried looking in Ponyville for a place to live first. Sure, he hadn't had any money, but he might have been able to work something out, like his deal with Mr. Cake. Instead he had gotten everypony worried about him.
Thankfully, a knock at the bedroom door pulled Sketch from his depressing reverie. A purple head peeked into the room. "Oh good, you're awake!" Twilight said with a smile and entered. "You look so much better."
"I feel better, too," Sketch replied, sitting up straighter. "I won't be galloping in any races anytime soon, but at least I can move my legs again."
"Glad to hear it. Is there anything I can get you?"
"No, thank you. Fluttershy's been wonderful. I don't know how I'm going to-"
"Don't say it!" Twilight put her hoof to her forehead and shook her head. "There's no need to repay us for helping you. Especially when your life was at stake."
"But it was my fault, Twilight," Sketch said in a low voice, looking down at the blanket that he was fiddling with. "I… Applejack was right. I shouldn't have been staying in that shack."
"Applejack was just worried about you, Sketch. She didn't mean to get angry with you."
"She still spoke the truth." He paused. "Is she… I mean… do you think she'll drop by?"
Twilight approached the bed and put a hoof up on Sketch's foreleg. "She wanted to visit you today, Sketch, but she's behind in her work. She had to catch up from…" she trailed off and looked away.
Sketch's heart dropped. "From having to look after me, right?" He let out a sigh. "Only in town for several days and already I'm messing things up."
"Sketch, stop that," Twilight insisted, rubbing his foreleg consolingly. "Everypony makes mistakes. You're fortunate enough to have friends to help out when you make them."
Sketch looked up at Twilight and asked, "Do you really consider me a friend? After only knowing me a few days?"
"Absolutely! Why else would I have stopped over to check on you?"
Tears welled up in Sketch's eyes even though he tried to fight it, and his words were choked when he spoke. "You don't know what that means to me, Twilight. I… didn't have many friends growing up. Or any, really."
"I do know what that's like, Sketch," Twilight replied softly. "I didn't know what true friendship was until I came here to Ponyville." She smiled. "There's something about this place, and there's something about the ponies here. I know in my heart that this is a good place for you, just like it is for me."
The two looked at each other for a moment, smiling. Sketch was overcome with emotions he had never felt before, and somehow it was making him feel stronger, as if the emotions were healing him from within. He was glad he had come to Ponyville, even though the situation that had forced him to had been a tragic one.
"Oh, I almost forgot!" Twilight said suddenly. Her horn glowed and a book levitated from her saddlebag. "I found this book in the library. It's about famous artists of Equestria. I thought you might need something to occupy you while you recuperate."
"Wow, thanks!" Sketch flipped the book, scanning the pages. A thought occurred to him. "How recent is it?"
"Not very. I think it was written about ten years ago."
He wouldn't be in here , Sketch thought sadly. Still, he was happy to have something interesting to read while he was bedridden. "I'll have to make sure that portrait of yours is extra good," he said with a smile. Then his smile disappeared as another thought struck him. "Twilight, did you ponies get my-"
She nodded. "We got your wagon with your art stuff out of the shack. Applejack is holding onto it at the moment."
Sketch relaxed. He wouldn’t have been able to bear it if those supplies had been lost. "Thanks again. For everything."
"That's what friends are for," the unicorn said with a smile.
***
The second day at Fluttershy's cottage, Sketch was conversing with his hostess while drinking a tasty vegetable broth she had made. He couldn't think of anypony else he'd rather be under the care of. His memories of the few times he had gotten sick as a young colt were not pleasant, as his parents had usually left him to take care of himself. Because of the show of kindness from Fluttershy, Sketch's sense of guilt and need for repayment surfaced.
"You don't owe me anything, Sketch," Fluttershy responded to the recovering pony's offer of reimbursement. The yellow mare looked almost horrified at the suggestion.
"It's just that you've put up with me in your house, in your own bed, for three days," Sketch insisted. "That's a pretty major inconvenience."
"Oh no, no, not at all! I have a guest room I've been staying in. And I like taking care of ponies as well as animals."
"What if I do for you the same thing I'm doing for Twilight Sparkle? I'll paint your portrait as repayment for your generosity."
"Goodness, a portrait of me? That's awfully nice of you, but-"
"Please, it's the very least I can do for you."
"Well… okay, if you insist."
The two of them hadn't noticed the bedroom door open, and were startled when they heard a voice from the doorway. "Yer not pullin' that but-ah-owe-you nonsense that Twilight told me yer prone to, are ya Sketch?"
Sketch's heart leapt in a way that he never felt before when he saw Applejack there in front of him. Her words were direct, but her eyes sparkled and her mouth twitched in an attempt to keep from grinning. Even after a day of dreading an encounter with the orange pony, he was, in that moment, elated. Fluttershy glanced from pony to pony and then politely let herself out of the room with the excuse that she had to tend to her chickens.
"Applejack, I…" Sketch wanted to tell her how happy he was to see her, how grateful he was for all she had done, but all that came out of his mouth was a soft, "…I'm sorry."
The orange pony walked in slowly. "Sketch, ah'm pleased as punch that yer alive and well. Really, ah am. But you need to promise me something if yer gonna continue workin' for me. Promise me that you won't do something as stupid as living in a place like that ever again and keepin' it a secret, and that you'll ask for help from ponies who care about ya."
Ask for help… Those words repeated themselves in Sketch's head as Applejack watched him and waited for a response. He opened his mouth, but stopped, unsure of what he was going to say. Finally, he locked gazes with Applejack and said, "Where I come from, you don't ask for help. It's a sign of weakness, of failure. That's why I'm so reluctant to accept things from you ponies."
"Sugar cube, you're not in Whinnypeg anymore," Applejack replied softly, walking around the bed to Sketch's side. "You're with ponies who are willin' to help ya whenever ya need it. You don't even need to ask."
"I'm… slowly learning that," Sketch said, rubbing a hoof against his other foreleg and looking away. "It's tough to break away from what you're used to, though, even if you've been rebelling against it all of your life." Again he met Applejack's eyes and he felt in that moment that she would do anything to help him. "I promise, Applejack. And I always keep my promises."
"Ah know you do, sugar cube." She reached out and placed a hoof on his foreleg, sending a pleasant shiver through him. Then, she pulled her foreleg back and stood up straighter, saying, "Now, we have somethin' to discuss. Yer livin' arrangements."
"I know," Sketch said with a sigh. "Tomorrow I'm getting out of Fluttershy's mane and I'll be looking for a place somewhere in the town. Maybe I-"
"You'll be livin' with us at Sweet Apple Acres."
"-Can find… huh?"
"You heard me."
"Live with you? But I-"
"No 'buts'. Ah know ya don't have anything in the way of money, so yer not gonna find anyplace to stay. We have an extra room in the farmhouse that we use for storage. Big Mac'n me cleared it out yesterday, and we scrounged up some old furniture for it."
"Applejack, I can't… you can't…"
She fixed him with one of those stares of hers. "If ya' won't accept it as one friend helpin' another, then how about this – as yer employer, ah insist on it. Ah want you there for trainin', and eventually work, early every mornin'. Best way to do that is to keep ya' in the same place that the rest of us are in."
Sketch mulled it over. It made sense in the long run, and from what little he knew about farm workers, they always seemed to live on the premises. But he also reminded himself of what Applejack had just said to him about friendship and friends helping each other out. "All right. I'll accept your help. As a friend."
The smile on Applejack's face was brighter than any he had seen yet. "Good to hear it, sugar cube."
A thought struck Sketch as he realized the implications of what Applejack had said. "Wait, so are you decided on hiring me to work?"
Applejack nodded. "It's gonna take a lot more trainin', but ah know there's an applebucker inside of ya somewhere."
Sketch was about to thank her when the door burst open and a blue blur landed next to the bed. "I just heard what happened from Twilight. You okay?"
Stunned by the blinding intrusion, Sketch managed to respond, "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm better now."
"Good. Because I still expect you to keep that promise to come watch me practice."
"This here pony always keeps his promises, Rainbow Dash," Applejack said with a wink at Sketch.
"Oh, and by the way, Pinkie Pie knows about you now."
"Oh, fer cryin' out loud…" Applejack put a hoof to her forehead. "That means she'll be throwin' a party at mah place, doesn't it?"
"Uh, I dunno," Rainbow Dash shrugged. "All I know is she started hearing people talk about a purple pony who was new in town, and then found out that me and you and Twilight all met him, and then she started going crazy because she wants to throw him a party."
"She doesn't know where he is, does she?" Applejack asked with a concerned raise of her brow.
"No, Twilight told me to keep it a secret."
"Thank goodness. The poor pony needs at least one more night of rest before he should be forced to deal with Pinkie Pie."
Rainbow Dash smirked. "Like that'd really help."
Sketch looked back and forth between the two ponies. "Should I be scared?" They just gave him knowing smiles that did nothing to answer his question.
View Online
Chapter Five: In Which the Ponies Party Hard
It felt great to be out of bed and walking again, although Sketch was a little wobbly on his legs to begin with. He couldn't thank Fluttershy enough, and the gentle pony nearly blushed herself silly from the gush of appreciation. Sketch promised her he would return as soon as he could to do her portrait and then trotted down the trail leading from her house to Ponyville.
He stopped at the library, apparently waking up Spike by accident. Twilight was already up and reading, no big surprise to Sketch at that point. When he handed the book back to the purple unicorn, she said, "You can keep it until you finish it."
"I already did."
"Wow, you read almost as fast as I do! So who's your favorite?"
"Artist? Actually, my favorite isn't in this book. My favorite artist mentioned in the book, though, is Rosethorn. Her eye for composition is unrivaled."
"I'm not that familiar with her. I guess I'll have to read up on her." She paused and then asked, "Who's your favorite artist outside of the book?"
"Artsy Brushstroke."
"Brushstroke… wasn't he the one who-"
"Yes," Sketch nodded, cutting Twilight off. He didn't want to hear it spoken out loud.
"I think I've seen one or two of his paintings. Weird stuff. But good. If you're a fan of his, I'll be interested to see what your work looks like."
"Soon enough," Sketch smiled. "Once I get settled in at Sweet Apple Acres, I plan on putting brush to canvas and letting my inspiration spill out over it."
"Glad to hear it," Twilight returned the smile.
"Speaking of which, I better get going. Applejack is expecting me."
"All right. I'll see you at the party tonight."
"Party? Oh wait, does this have to do with this Pinkie Pie everyone keeps talking about?"
"Yeah. And it's supposed to be a surprise, but I figured I'd give you fair warning."
"She doesn't take long to get a party organized, does she?"
"Pinkie doesn't so much organize parties as she does sneeze them out."
Sketch raised an eyebrow. Again, his only experiences with parties were the uptight events he had attended against his will as a young pony. Apparently that wasn't what he should be expecting with his "surprise" party. "All right, then, I'll see you tonight." He called up to the loft, "Sorry to wake you up, Spike!" He received a half-groan, half-gurgle as a reply.
***
"Good to have ya back, sugar cube," Applejack said as Sketch walked through the front door of the farmhouse. There was a pause as the orange pony seemed to consider something, and then she gave Sketch a quick hug. Surprised, he just stood there for a moment and then smiled. That was the first hug he had ever received. His mother had occasionally hugged him, but it had always been a stiff, cold action, leaving him feeling uncomfortable. Applejack's hug, on the other hand, left him feeling warm and happy.
"So, back to training?" Sketch asked once he was able to speak again.
"Ah think we're gonna take it easy today, what with you just gettin' over that bug. So ah'm gonna show ya what we do after the apples get bucked from the trees. Tomorrow we'll jump back into the thick of things, okay?"
"Okay," Sketch nodded.
Applejack led Sketch out back, where she had a basket of hoof-picked apples ready for demonstration. She went over the different varieties that were growing all around the orchard and how to tell which one was which, both by sight and taste. She showed Sketch how to inspect the apples, to look them over and check for bruises, irregularities, and gashes in the skin. She explained what apples would be set aside for pastry fillings and which would be for cider pressing.
"Most importantly," she added when all was said and done, "ya gotta learn to do all that quick-like and with no mistakes. We'll have tons'a apples to go through and not a whole lotta time to do it. But ah'm hopin' with yer help we'll get the applebuckin' done faster, givin' us more time for the rest of it."
"I'll try my hardest," Sketch said, although he was feeling a bit overwhelmed.
"That's all ah ask, sugar cube. Now, what say we get a bite to eat for lunch and then finish up our lesson here?"
"Sounds good to me," Sketch replied, loving the idea of regular meals once again.
***
Sketch was deep in thought, trying to sort a large variety of apples by their appearances. It was a test that Applejack had given him towards the end of the day to see how much he had learned. Because of how focused he was he jumped when his boss appeared behind him and said, "Looks like ya only got a few wrong. Good job for a rookie!"
"Thanks. Honestly, I don't know how you do it. There are so many factors to consider."
"Well, growin' up on a farm gives ya years of experience. You can't learn everythin' in a day and be the best at it. Ah'll bet it took you a long time to get good at paintin', right?"
"I'm still trying to get good at it."
"Aw, ah'm sure you're great. Can't wait to see some of your work."
"Actually, I've been meaning to talk to you about that," Sketch said, a bit embarrassed by what he wanted to ask. Applejack had taken him up to see his room after lunch, and he couldn't ask for more comfortable lodging. There had only been two problems that he had thought of. One was that his art supplies weren't in there. The second was that he was worried that doing any painting in there would result in making a mess, something he didn't want to do in a room that was owned by someone else.
"Ah think ah have an idea of what ya wanna talk about, Sketch," Applejack said with a grin. "But hold onto that discussion a mite longer. You'll see why, ah promise." Curious, but trusting in the pony, Sketch just nodded his head. "Ah say we call it a day, how about you?"
"I say we're on the same page."
"Ah just need yer help with one last thing before supper. Follow me over to the barn."
Happy to be taken away from the baskets of apples that he had been sorting for over an hour, Sketch stretched his legs and then followed Applejack, walking beside her. While they walked, he couldn't help studying her, noting the telltale signs of a day's work. She had bits of dirt here and there in her hair, and strands of her mane had come loose from her tied ponytail. But for some reason Sketch found himself admiring these things. No, "admiring" wasn't the right word. What was he feeling?
"Somethin' wrong?" Applejack said, checking herself and then looking at Sketch quizzically.
"Oh, no, I… I'm sorry," he said, looking away in embarrassment. "I guess it's an artist thing. We tend to spend a little more time staring than normal ponies do. Observing and all that."
"Am ah worth paintin'?" Applejack asked with a smirk. "Dirt and all?"
"Anything and anypony is worth painting. The trick is to capture the beauty of the subject within the canvas. Dirt and all."
The smirk on Applejack's face turned into a small smile, and Sketch felt himself blush, thought he wasn't entirely sure why. Before either could say anything else they had reached the barn. Applejack pulled one of the doors open and Sketch was about to ask what she needed help with.
"SURPRISE!"
A chorus of voices nearly shook Sketch right off of his hooves. Inside the barn was what looked to be the entire population of Ponyville, a sea of color among the haystacks. Hanging from the rafters was a banner painted with, "Welcome, Sketch!"
A loud laugh came from Sketch's left and Rainbow Dash appeared, hovering over him. "Oh man, you should have seen your face. You thought you were all ready for a surprise party because we warned you about it. Good work, Applejack!"
The orange pony gave Sketch a sheepish grin. "Ah'm not all work, ya know."
Sketch laughed, his adrenaline dying down. "I'm glad to hear it."
There was a blur, possibly faster than Rainbow Dash in flight, and Sketch was assaulted by a babbling pink pony. "Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh! I finally get to meet you! I can't believe I didn't meet you until today! That's a really nice coat! Come in, come in! Want some cake? Have some cake! It's really good!" She shoved a plate of cake with frosting an inch thick into Sketch's hooves.
"Uh, you must be Pinkie Pie," Sketch said with a raise of his eyebrows.
The pink pony beamed, her teeth gleaming. "Come on, the guest of honor is here! Let's get this party started!" She grabbed Sketch as he was about to take a bite of cake and dragged him off into the crowd, the plate falling to the barn floor.
***
As the night wore on, Sketch was sure he had met everypony in the village. His head swam with faces and names, and he could only hope that he'd remember at least some of them the following day. He had stuffed himself silly on cake and cookies, and had danced for a solid hour. He had talked so much that his voice started to get scratchy. But the whole time he was having the most fun he had ever had in his life. It was definitely not the type of party he was used to, and he strongly started to suspect that parties in Whinnypeg weren't really parties.
Occasionally Twilight Sparkle or Applejack would catch up to him and stay by his side for a bit, being an anchor in the sea of strangers, for which he was grateful. Nearly every fifteen minutes Pinkie Pie would find him and ask if he was having fun, then disappear as she was distracted by something else. Even Rainbow Dash popped by a few times to check in on him. It felt nice to have ponies looking out for him.
The night went on and the sea of ponies dwindled to a pond. Sketch was taking a moment for himself outside the barn, sipping a cup of punch, when a unicorn he had met earlier approached him. She was a friend of Twilight's, although Sketch found he couldn't remember her name. His first impression of the pony with the immaculately-styled purple mane was that she was a bit like the pompous ponies he knew from Whinnypeg, and she made Sketch a bit uncomfortable. He managed a smile, though.
"I see you needed to get outside for some fresh air, too," the unicorn said, shaking her mane back and taking a deep breath.
"Yeah. I've done more partying tonight than I've done in my whole life. I needed to take a breather before I collapsed."
The other pony laughed and smirked. "Oh, you'll quickly learn to deal with these parties, darling. When Pinkie Pie is around, you find yourself celebrating everything and anything." The two stood in silence for a few moments, listening to the sounds of revelry in the barn. Finally, the white unicorn spoke up again. "I wanted to ask you about your overcoat, if you don't mind."
"Oh. No, I don't mind. That's right, you're a fashion designer, aren't you?"
"I am. And I respect fine craftsponyship when I see it. Do you mind if I take a closer look?"
"Uh, no, go ahead." Sketch stood, feeling a bit awkward as the unicorn circled him, inspecting every inch of his coat.
"Incredible," she murmured. "The stitching is exceptional, and the material was a first rate choice." She looked up at Sketch. "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, darling, but you didn't buy this coat, did you?"
"No, it was given to me. How did you know?"
"Well, first of all, it looks as though it was custom-designed, but it doesn't fit you perfectly. It's a little big on you. Secondly, a custom job like this isn't cheap. Do you happen to know who the designer was?"
"Topstitch."
The unicorn gasped. "The Topstitch?"
"I guess, unless there's another one I don't know about."
With a thump, the unicorn's hind end fell to the ground and her eyes went wide. "How… how on Equestria did you get a custom Topstitch coat?!"
"The person who gave it to me knew him."
"He's one of the premier designers in Equestria! Did you… did you ever meet him?"
"A couple of times. He's very nice."
The feeling of discomfort had grown stronger in Sketch as the conversation played out. This unicorn was acting like many of the ponies from Whinnypeg, becoming crazy over a popular name. The more well-known a pony was, the more the citizens of Whinnypeg tried to connect themselves to that pony. It was almost like currency; the more names a pony associated with, the higher of a status they held.
Then, as the amazed fashion designer continued to study the details of the coat, Sketch realized with a wave of guilt that that wasn't what was happening at all. This unicorn was an artist like himself; she was admiring the work of Topstitch, not the name . In an instant he felt like a heel for jumping to a wrong conclusion about someone that he didn't know all that well. With that in mind he tried to get onto common ground with her.
"Can I… ask you a question about your job?"
Sketch's question startled the unicorn from her locked gaze on his coat, and she stood up and smiled. "Of course, darling."
"Well, when you come up with your initial design, you draw it out, right?"
"I do."
"If you're okay with it, I'd love to look at your drawings to see your technique. I'm always on the lookout for artistic inspiration."
The unicorn's eyes sparkled and said, "Absolutely, darling! Stop by my shop anytime. It's always good to have another artistically-inclined pony around. Sometimes the others just don't get it."
It was Sketch's turn to smile. "I know exactly what you mean. Can I, uh, ask another question?"
"Of course."
"…Can you tell me your name again?"
The unicorn laughed. "Rarity. And don't worry yourself. You certainly met enough ponies tonight."
In that moment, all of Sketch's negative feelings about the unicorn vanished. He should have known from the beginning that if Rarity was a friend of Twilight's then she would be all right. Making a silent resolution to be much more careful about his first impressions of the ponies in the village, he was about to speak again when a pink head poked around the corner of the barn doors.
"Oh there you are! Just wanted to make sure you're still having fun!"
***
The party had ended, and the only ponies who remained were Applejack, Twilight, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie, who continued dancing even though there was no music to be heard. The barn was a mess, but Rainbow Dash zipped around, creating a whirlwind that sucked all of the trash into one pile. When she landed, she was holding the banner that said "Welcome, Sketch!" on it. "You wanna keep this?" she asked the guest of honor.
"Yeah, I think I do," he said. "Thanks."
"There's still tons'a food left over, everypony," Applejack said. "Ah don't wanna have to find room for it in the kitchen, so eat up."
"I couldn't eat another bite," said Twilight, shaking her head.
"I have to watch my figure," said Rarity, not-so-subtly showing off said figure.
"Already got enough calories to burn off in training tomorrow," said Rainbow Dash, punching her hooves into the air.
"I don't like to eat too many sweets," whispered Fluttershy, giving a small smile.
"I'll eat some more!" yelled Pinkie Pie, nearly jumping onto the table and grabbing two cupcakes, only to shove both of them into her mouth at the same time.
"You could save it and throw another party," Sketch offered as a joke. Immediately the other ponies looked at him with horrified expressions or made "No! No!" gestures, but it was too late.
"Oh my gosh, what a great idea!" Pinkie Pie said, bounding over to Sketch and squeezing him until his eyes bugged out. "We should have an after-party party! Turn the music back on!" She started dancing again despite the fact that no one complied with her request.
"Ah think it's a bit late for us all, Pinkie Pie," Applejack said in a patient tone. "Maybe some other time."
"Awww," came the disappointed reply, only it was muffled because she had stuffed a hoof-full of cookies into her mouth.
"Besides, you still have to show Sketch you-know-what," Twilight said with a knowing smile.
Sketch raised an eyebrow and looked back and forth between Twilight and Applejack. "Uh-oh, another surprise?"
"I think you'll like this one," Twilight insisted.
"Well, I liked the party, too," Sketch added.
"Of course you did, silly!" Pinkie Pie appeared and squeezed him again. "That's because I throw the best parties in Equestria! Everypony knows that!"
"I believe you!" Sketch croaked, and Pinkie Pie let go of him to bounce off to the food table once again.
"Anyway," Applejack spoke up, "Why don't ya follow me, Sketch." With that Applejack grabbed a lantern and made her way to the stairs that led to the second floor of the barn. Intrigued, Sketch followed behind, and the rest of the ponies fell in line behind him.
When Sketch emerged onto the second floor and saw what the light of the lantern revealed, he gasped. All of his painting supplies were there, laid out on an old table - his tubes of paint, his brushes, his palette and palette knife, and his assortment of canvases. In the corner stood an easel holding one of his blank canvases. He stared at the sight and then turned back to Applejack, who grinned at him.
"Ah knew you'd need a space to work in, so ah moved some things around and put yer art supplies up here. This here can be yer art studio."
"And Rarity donated the easel," Twilight added.
"I bought it a long time ago, but never used it," the unicorn shrugged. "I work with paper and pastels mostly. So I figured another artist might get more use out of it."
Sketch was beyond speechless. He just kept looking at each pony, wondering how they could be as kind as they were, how that sort of thing could actually exist in a world that had places like Whinnypeg. The only things that anyone had ever given him were his overcoat and his art supplies, and that had been a rare occurrence in and of itself. He opened his mouth to try to say something, but his words were unintelligible and they cracked. Aware that he had tears forming in his eyes, he looked away and whispered, "Thank you. Thank you so much. I don't know how-"
"Don't say it!" both Twilight and Applejack yelled in unison, and Sketch looked up at them only to burst out laughing a moment later.
"Okay, you ponies are getting to know me too well," he said when finally caught his voice. The tension had been cut, and he was able to speak again. "Really, thank you. Thank you for this, thank you for the party, and thank you for… for being my friends."
There was a moment of comfortable silence that was interrupted by Pinkie Pie, who yelled out, "Group hug!" Impossibly, she managed to squeeze everypony at once.
***
That night Sketch tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The mattress was comfy enough – certainly comfier than the hard floor of the rickety shack in the woods – but he just couldn’t make himself fall asleep. It could have been the amount of sugar he had eaten, it could have been the excitement of the day, or it could be something else. He decided to head to his new studio to see if it was "something else".
Sketch crept out of his room as silently as he could. He grimaced as he set a hoof on the first step of the stairs and heard the loud creak. He didn't want to wake anypony up, not after they all had gone to bed late because of the party. Slowly and with careful steps he made his way down the stairs, causing the boards to creak and moan here and there. A sigh of relief escaped him as he made it to the first floor, and a yelp escaped him as he bumped into Apple Bloom.
"Hiya Sketch," the little filly whispered. "Whatcha doin' up?"
"I couldn't sleep. I was going to go try to paint." He paused. "What are you doing up?"
"Gettin' a late night snack," she grinned and Sketch noticed icing on the corner of the pony's mouth from one of the cupcakes that had been left over and that Pinkie Pie hadn't gotten a hold of. "Want one?"
"You couldn't pay me to eat any more sweets at this point!" Sketch said, holding a hoof over his stomach and sticking out his tongue. "I've already eaten enough sugar to turn me into a cupcake."
Apple Bloom giggled. "Ya know, Sketch, ah'm glad yer stayin' with us. It feels like ah got another big brother."
Sketch smiled. "Thanks! It's pretty neat to have a little sister. I didn't have any siblings back home."
"Brothers and sisters can be nice to have around, but they can be a pain sometimes," the filly said, and squared Sketch with a look that was all too similar to her big sister's. "Don't be a pain, all right?"
Sketch sat back and raised his front hooves defensively. "I promise not to be a pain."
"And, uh," the little pony hesitated before saying in a sheepish voice, "don't tell Applejack ya saw me. Ah ain't supposed to be up this late."
"It'll be our secret," Sketch winked at the filly, and the two of them said good night.
The night air was cool since autumn was just getting ready to pounce with full force. The sky was clear and the moon cast everything in a beautiful glow. Another couple of weeks and it would be a complete circle. That was when the applebucking would start, Applejack had told him. It would be right after the Harvest Moon, when it was at its largest. The thought excited Sketch; catching a glimpse of the moon in Whinnypeg was rare, as the skies were perpetually cloudy. The weather went hand-in-hand with the personalities of the city's inhabitants – gloomy and dismal.
Sketch entered the barn and entertained an amusing notion that he'd find Pinkie Pie still dancing the night away in there. She wasn't, although from the small amount of time that he'd gotten to know her, he wouldn't have been surprised. He continued on up the steps to the second floor and entered his studio.
His studio . It made him smile just to think about those words. If only his mentor could see him now. Sketch lit the lanterns that Applejack had left on the second floor for him and he began preparing his palette with paints. Before he knew it, his brush was attacking the canvas, leaving no space uncovered with color.
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Chapter Six: In Which a Few Loose Ends Are Tied Up
That evening, after a hard day's training on the sand bag, Sketch helped Granny Smith clean up the supper dishes even though he was ready to pass out on his bed. The older pony was quite a character; something always reminded her of a story, and she had some funny quirks, like insisting the dishes be dried with the rag going in a clockwise direction, never counterclockwise. He learned that one the hard way after receiving a ten minute lecture that he only understand half of, if that much.
As Sketch was about to finally retire for the night, Applejack called him into the dining room. She was sitting at the table, a stack of bits in front her. "This here's yer first and second week's pay," she said, sliding the stack into a pouch. "You missed yer first payday bein' laid up at Fluttershy's."
"Thanks," Sketch said, staring at the money and then looking at Applejack. "But I don't know if I can accept it."
"Why in tarnation not?" Applejack asked, giving the pony an incredulous look. "It's what yer here for. You've earned it."
"Because you're letting me live here, you feed me three times a day, and you've given me part of your barn as studio space. I took the job to save money so I could find a place to live and to feed myself, and now you've taken care of that."
"Fer goodness sake, do ya have to argue every time somethin' good comes yer way?" The incredulous look became a scowl.
Sketch felt himself blush and he looked away. "I'm grateful for it, really I am, it’s just-"
"Then take it. " The order was given in a voice that left Sketch unwilling to disobey, so he grabbed the pouch, mumbled a thank you, and tried to hurry out of the room. "Sketch," Applejack called, and he stopped and turned, looking at her through the doorway. Her tone softened a bit, but still had an edge to it. "Ah wouldn't have done it all if ah didn't think you were worth it."
He stood there staring at the orange pony for a long moment before nodding. Then he continued on up the stairs to his room. After closing the door, he dropped his earnings into the drawer on the nightstand and fell onto his bed. Before he fell asleep, he mulled over Applejack's words.
Hours later, feeling awake once again, Sketch made his way through the quiet farmhouse and out to his studio. As he had done the night before, he laid into the canvas, trying to be mindful of the time so he wouldn't be at it too late. When the first rays of the sun peeked through the shutters, though, he realized with a yawn that he would be in for a rough day ahead.
***
It was another long day of working the sandbag before Applejack let Sketch tackle an actual tree. Since the apples weren't quite ready just yet, she located a tree that hadn't done so well on apple producing. "They're still edible," she said, "Just not up to the Sweet Apple Acres standards of sellin', so we'll just eat 'em ourselves. Now," she said, moving Sketch into position, "This here's gonna be a whole lot different than buckin' the sand bag. This here's solid wood, so brace yerself for a hard impact. You ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," Sketch said, not entirely sure that he was.
"Get buckin'!"
Sketch steeled himself, focusing on his flank muscles, then lifted his rear legs and gave the tree a kick. There was a solid thunk and then vibrations traveled up his hooves, up his legs, through his body, and into his skull. He collapsed onto the ground, feeling as if he had been run over by a pony-drawn wagon.
"That first time's always a bit rough," Applejack said with a chuckle. Sketch gave her a pained look, and she cleared her throat and tried to hide her smile.
"Did I at least knock any apples loose?"
"Nope, sorry, they're all still there." At that moment several apples did fall, and one landed right on Sketch's head. Applejack snorted and tried not to laugh, but ended up falling to the ground in laughter.
***
Sketch worked hard for the remaining days of his training, harder than he had ever worked at anything, including painting. By the time he was two days away from the start of applebucking season, he was able to buck nearly half of the apples from a given tree. His flank muscles had finally gotten used to the exercise, and whatever pain was left over Sketch learned to ignore.
Applejack gave him a day off the day before applebucking started. "Enjoy the time, 'cause the next few weeks are gonna be even worse than yer trainin'." With that little tidbit of joy, Sketch decided to take care of something that he hadn't gotten around to yet. He packed up his art supplies and headed into Ponyville.
As usual, Spike answered the door of the library. "Hey, Sketch!"
"Hey, Spike. Is Twilight around?"
"Yup. I'll give you three guesses as to what she's doing."
When Sketch entered Twilight looked up from the book she was reading and her face lit up. "Hi, Sketch! I haven't seen you since your party."
"Applejack's had me training hard. She gave me the day off before the real work starts tomorrow, so I thought I'd come over and do your portrait. If you have time, that is."
"Sure!"
"Hey, can I be in it, too?" Spike asked with pleading eyes.
"I don't see why not," Sketch smiled.
"Awesome! Every painting should have a dragon in it."
They discussed the background of the portrait, and eventually decided on having Twilight sit near an open window for lighting, with a stack of books piled next to her. The latter wasn't difficult, as there were stacks of books nearly everywhere. On a spur of the moment burst of inspiration, Sketch told Spike to sit on top of the stack, and it completed the look perfectly.
As Sketch began, Twilight asked, "Have you done much painting in your studio?"
"I have, actually," Sketch said through the side of his mouth without losing his grip on the brush. "I've got several finished pieces and a couple in progress. I need to order some more canvases while I'm in town today."
"That's great to hear! I'd love to see them."
"I'd love to show them to you. You may have to wait until Applejack gives me another day off, though, and that might be a while."
Twilight chuckled. "That's understandable. None of us ever see Applejack during this season because she's so busy. But with your help, it should go by quicker."
"I hope so."
The two chit-chatted away as Sketch worked. Poor Spike started to look bored, so Sketch asked him questions about dragons. The little library assistant was all too willing to share his knowledge, and was in the middle of explaining exactly how dragons were able to digest jewels when the door to the library burst open.
"Twiliiiiiiiiiight! Oh, there you are. And Sketch! Yay, now I don't have to go all the down to Sweet Apple Acres 'cause you can deliver the invitation for me!"
"Hi Pinkie Pie," Twilight said, trying not to move too much. "What's up?"
"I wanted to invite you to – oh my gosh, Sketch, that's so good! Will you paint me someday?" Sketch didn't have time to answer, as Pinkie Pie just continued on. "I wanted to invite you to the Harvest Moon Celebration I'm throwing tonight! There's gonna be cake and cookies and punch and music and dancing and streamers and-"
"Yes, Pinkie Pie, we know what to expect at one of your parties," Twilight said with a patient smile. "And yes, I'll be there."
"Me too!" Spike said. "You know I never miss a Pinkie Pie party."
"Woo-hoo! Sketch, you're coming too, right?"
Sketch paused in mid-stroke. He would love to go to another party, but Applejack had told him to get a good night's sleep that night so he could be ready for applebucking the following day. Maybe he could just go for a little while and leave early. When he looked at Pinkie Pie, though, who stood in front of him twitching with boundless energy, he realized that she would never let him leave a party early. Then he thought of the look on Applejack's face if he should have to tell her he had been out all night partying instead of resting up. That was the clincher.
He shook his head and said, "I'm sorry, Pinkie Pie. Applebucking season starts tomorrow and I need to be in tip-top shape."
"Awww," the pink pony's head drooped. Then, just as Sketch was about to apologize again, she perked up and said, "We'll save you some cake."
"I'd like that," Sketch said with a smile.
"See you tonight, Twilight and Spike!" Pinkie Pie sang as she bounced her way out the door.
There was silence as Sketch went back to work, until he noticed Twilight studying him. "What?"
"You really want to go to the party, don't you?" she asked.
"Yeah. You have to understand, the word 'party' means something completely different in Whinnypeg. Now that I know what a real party is, I want to be able to go to every one that I can."
Twilight chuckled. "If you did that around here, you'd die of exhaustion. But you did make the right choice. Applejack would be proud."
That made Sketch smile as he began adding shading to Twilight's face.
***
"It's beautiful!" Twilight said when she stepped behind the canvas to take a look. Sketch wanted to agree, but something about the portrait just wasn't right to him. He couldn't place a hoof on what it was that was bothering him, though, just that it was. However, one of the most important lessons he had been taught was to never downplay a piece to someone who liked it.
"I'm glad," he said simply and sincerely.
"Hey, I look pretty handsome!" Spike said, studying the painting.
"Yeah, I took some creative liberties with you," Sketch said straight-faced, then grinned when Spike glared at him. "Just kidding. My brush captures things as they are." Spike returned the grin and went back to admiring himself.
Twilight thanked him and gave him a hug, and Sketch was on his way. Even though he wasn't completely satisfied with the portrait, at least Twilight liked it. Maybe he'd do better with Fluttershy's when he got around it. He wasn't used to doing portraits, so maybe he just needed to get one out of the way as practice.
The thought of Fluttershy and his being sick reminded Sketch of something he had wanted to do once he had earned some money. He made a quick stop at Sugarcube Corner and found Mr. Cake at the counter. "Well hi there, Sketch! How're things at Sweet Apple Acres?"
"Busy, Mr. Cake. And it's only going to get worse. Which is why I wanted to do this now before I forget. Would you happen to know what Nurse Redheart usually buys from here?"
"Gosh, you got me on that one, but if anyone would know, it would be my wife. Sweety," he called into the kitchen, "Can you come here for a moment?"
The blue-haired co-owner of the bakery walked in from the kitchen and spotted Sketch. "Hi, Sketch!" she said brightly.
"Hi Mrs. Cake. I have a question for you – what does Nurse Redheart usually buy from here?"
"Oh, she loves the red velvet cupcakes. She buys them at least once a month."
"Excellent! Could you have a box of them delivered to her with a note attached?"
"We sure can! Let me go fetch you some paper to write on and Carrot will ring you up."
After money exchanged hooves, Mrs. Cake returned with the paper and pencil. Sketch scrawled onto the paper, "Thank you for your house call while I was sick. Enjoy the cupcakes. Sincerely, Sketch." He folded the note and passed it to Mrs. Cake, thanking her. As he exited the bakery, Sketch could hear his father's exasperated voice in the back of his head saying, "That pony was just doing her job! Why are you wasting money on her for doing her job? " Instead of letting the voice get to him as usually happened, Sketch managed to ignore it. With a light step in his hooves, he trotted his way to the general store, whistling the whole way.
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Chapter Seven: In Which a Late Night Conversation is Held
By the third day of applebucking season, Sketch felt as if he had been doing it his entire life. His days consisted of nothing except bucking tree after tree after tree. He wasn't sure how the Apple family could still eat apples consistently; he was pretty sure he could live a full and happy life without ever seeing an apple ever again.
He was getting closer to being able to knock all the apples out of a tree in one buck, though. It took him two or three tries on average, but every now and then he'd get in one hearty kick and apples would rain down around him. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to bask in the glory of these occasions, as he needed to gather them all up and get them into a basket, and then move on to the next tree. Applejack was somehow able to get the apples to fall right into the baskets below the tree, but Sketch was pretty sure he was quite a long way away from being able to do that.
At some point in the afternoon – Sketch had learned to stop trying to keep track of the time – Applejack appeared, looking just as tired as Sketch felt. "Take a breather, sugar cube," she said. "Yer doin' a great job, but ah don't want ya burnin' out."
"Thanks," Sketch said, stretching his legs and then his neck. He shook off his overcoat, reveling in the cool autumn air against his hot skin. He was about to ask Applejack about her day when he caught her staring at him. "Something wrong?" he asked, checking himself over.
"Hmm?" she blinked and met his eyes, then blushed. "Oh, uh, no. Ah was, uh… ah was just noticin' that you're building up some nice muscles." Her blush deepened.
"I should hope so," Sketch quipped, but blushed as well at the compliment.
The two rested in the shade of the last apple tree that Sketch had bucked. It was nice to feel the blood flowing in his legs again, and he stretched them once more. He glanced over at Applejack and she seemed lost in her own thoughts. Not wanting to interrupt, Sketch just leaned back against the tree and let his mind wander.
Finally, Applejack spoke up. "Ah have to say, Sketch, you may be years from bein' the best applebucker ah've ever seen, but you sure as sugar are the hardest worker ah've ever seen. And that includes me."
Sketch smiled. "Thanks. But I'm just doing my job."
"You're givin' it yer hardest, like you said ya' would, and then some. That's not just doin' yer job, that's goin' above and beyond." Sketch blushed again, feeling Applejack's compliments warm him. "And I gotta say, ah was a bit nervous at the beginnin'."
"Nervous?"
"Well, ah was hirin' an artist to do this job. Can't say I expected then what yer givin' now."
Suddenly the warmth drained from Sketch and years of criticisms and insults came bubbling up from the depths of his mind, smothering him and choking his breath. Images of his parents' faces flashed in front of him, their eyes hard and disapproving. A familiar anxiety caused his blood to go cold. He tensed up and when he spoke it was with a flat, emotionless voice. "So because I'm an artist you thought I was useless."
"What? No, ah didn't say-"
"You don't need to say it, Applejack. Everypony thinks it. I… I had hoped you were different, but I guess that was just wishful thinking on my part." Sketch stood and began putting his coat back on, fighting a lump that wanted to rise in his throat.
Applejack stood as well, a worried look plastered on her face. "Sketch, ah didn't mean-"
"I should to get back to work." With that Sketch headed to the next batch of trees that needed to be bucked. There was a buzzing in his ears, and his insides twisted and turned. He knew Applejack was watching him walk away, but for once he didn't want to see her eyes.
***
Sketch skipped dinner that night, unwilling to come face-to-face with Applejack. He didn't have an appetite at that point anyway. Instead, he moped in his room, trying not to think about what Applejack had said, but failing miserably. He had genuinely thought she was different from every other pony he had met, but it seemed that everypony had the same opinion - artists were useless and didn't serve much more purpose than to be the ones that society could laugh at and ridicule.
By the time his appetite had returned it was the middle of the night. Once he was sure everypony was asleep he quietly made his way down to the kitchen. There, in the icebox, was a plate of food wrapped up, and he knew instantly that it had been left for him. Emotionally conflicted, but more so hungry, he took the food and made his way into the dining room, where Apple Bloom was sitting at the table.
The times that Sketch had gone off at night to work in his studio, he had seen Apple Bloom either getting a late-night snack or a glass of water. She apparently made a habit of it, and the two of them would chit-chat a bit or just smile at each other and be on their way. Tonight, however, the filly had her forelegs crossed on the table, her head resting on them, and she was looking glum.
"Hey, little sis," Sketch said in a soft voice, using the nickname he had given her after their first late-night encounter.
"Hey, big bro," she responded without moving.
"What's wrong?" he asked, taking a seat at the table.
"Nothin'."
"Come on."
She sighed. "You know ah told ya about me and mah friends, the Cutie Mark Crusaders?"
"Yeah."
"We were at it again today. Ya know, tryin' to make our cutie marks appear. And like always it didn't work. It's just got me down, is all. Ah feel like ah'm never gonna get my cutie mark."
"For what it's worth, I used to feel the same way," Sketch said, taking a bite of cold mushroom stroganoff. "I waited a long time for my cutie mark to appear, too."
"Ah don't think ah've ever actually seen yer cutie mark," the filly said, her head perking up. "Yer always wearin' that coat of yers."
"Well, I'm not wearing it now." Sketch stood up and turned to the side. "I'm not sure if you can see it since it's so dark in here."
"Ah can see it. It's a paintbrush with some green paint on the tip." Sketch sat back down and Apple Bloom sat up straight. "So how'd you get it?"
"That's a long story…"
"So eat slow." She grinned at him and he couldn't help but laugh.
"Fair enough. Well, I've told you all about Whinnypeg, right? I probably don't need to mention that from the very beginning I never fit in. It made it difficult for me to figure out exactly what I would be good at so that my cutie mark would appear, since I didn't have anyone to help me out like you and your friends are doing for each other.
"When I was just about your age, maybe a little older, my parents took me to Canterlot. They had been invited to an art gallery installation by the artist Artsy Brushstroke. They didn't go for the art, of course, they just went to hobnob with the other important ponies there, and they brought me thinking that some of that atmosphere would rub off on me. It actually turned out to be the biggest mistake of their lives.
"After dragging me around from pony to pony for nearly two hours, I managed to escape and went off on my own. I took some time to finally look at the artwork that was being shown. Are you familiar with Artsy Brushstroke's work?" Apple Bloom shook her head. "He did some very surreal stuff. The work that was being shown that night was a series of paintings depicting ponies in absurd settings and situations. Things like a pony reading a newspaper and holding an umbrella while it rained inside. Or a pony having breakfast, only the table was on the ceiling."
"I studied each painting closely, taking in all the details. Finally, as I looked at a painting of a pony grooming himself in front of a bathroom mirror in the jungle, I made a connection and it was like a lightning bolt struck me! I began to laugh out loud, startling a few of the ponies nearby. Then a voice behind me asked what was so funny.
"'It's them,' I said, without looking away from the painting. 'It's who?' the voice asked. 'Them,' I said, waving a hoof at the ponies in the room, still distracted by the artwork in front of me. 'It's like a big practical joke on them because they don't get it.' 'But you do,' the pony behind me said again. 'Well, it's good to know that someone gets my work, even if it is the youngest pony in the room.'"
Apple Bloom gasped and then covered her mouth and giggled. "It was him, wasn't it?"
Sketch smiled and touched the tip of his nose with a hoof. "I turned around slowly and saw the biggest pony I've ever seen, with the exception of your brother. He had blue hair, a long red mane, and a goatee. He also had a big grin on his face. 'So what exactly is the point I'm trying to get across?' he asked me."
"By that point I was nervous, but I managed to tell him, 'Each one of the ponies you painted is rich-looking and oblivious, but in a ridiculous setting. You're saying that to them their lives are normal, when people like you and me see their lives as absurd and silly.' His grin got even bigger and he nodded. He asked me if I had an interest in art, and I told him that I drew a lot. He said he wanted to see my work and gave me his address to mail it to. I was speechless, but ecstatic."
Sketch took the final few bites of his cold dinner and pushed the plate away, leaning back. Apple Bloom had her forelegs on the table, her head resting on her hooves, ready to hear the rest. "When I got home I gathered the best drawings I had done, wrote up a letter, and sent it all to Artsy. In a few weeks time I got a response. He had returned the drawings to me with a letter stating his opinion on them."
"Did he like 'em?"
"Nope. He told me they were terrible."
It took a moment for Apple Bloom to realize that Sketch wasn't joking. "Terrible? Why, that's an awful thing to say!" Her voice rose a bit too high and Sketch shushed her.
"I thought so at first, too. I was crushed. But he continued on, telling me why he thought they were terrible, and that despite how bad they were he could see a lot of potential in me. After reading that, I found myself wanting to grab my pad and pencil, and to start drawing and never stop. Then I felt a tingle on my flank and when I checked it, my cutie mark had shown up.
"Later on when I discussed it with Artsy, he told me my cutie mark appeared not because I found something I was good at, as I obviously wasn't yet, but because it was something that I wanted to do even though I wasn't good at it. It was something that I would work hard at in order to become good at. He said that I probably would have come to that conclusion eventually, but that he decided to be honest with me in order to push me towards it faster. Artsy was very big on honesty. One of the most important lessons he gave me was that artists should always be honest because it's their job to depict the truth, and you can't depict the truth if you aren't honest."
He stopped cold, a realization washing over him in a suffocating wave. Applejack's words from that afternoon popped into his head. She had been honest with him and he had shut down because he hadn't wanted to hear it. What was worse was that he had accepted the positive things she had said about his working hard, but he had reacted poorly to her honesty about her initial feelings about him. There was no picking and choosing when it came to the truth; it was all or nothing. How could he possibly preach honesty and truth if he couldn't accept it from others?
"Sketch? Sketch, you all right?" Apple Bloom was waving her hoof in front of Sketch's face.
"Yeah, I'm…" He sighed. "No, I'm not. I'm a rotten friend."
"Is this about you 'n Applejack."
"Yeah. Did she tell you what happened?"
"Uh-uh, but she was really quiet at suppertime and since you weren't there ah figured you two got into a fight'r somethin'."
"No no, nothing like that. She just… she said something and I reacted badly. Only now I realize that she was just being honest and I didn't see it for what it was, just what I thought it was at the time. How could I have been so stupid?"
"Don't worry, Sketch. She'll forgive ya. She's good like that."
"I hope so. I'd hate to have ruined my relationship with her." Sketch became silent for a moment and then saw Apple Bloom grinning at him. "What?"
"Nothin'," she said and giggled. Then she made a face. "Oof, watchin' you eat made me hungry."
"Well, I'll tell you what – I'm wide awake right now, so if I can find all the ingredients in the kitchen, I'll bake you up some sugar cookies."
"You know how to bake?"
Sketch nodded. "My mother used to be the head chef in the kitchen of one of the hotels my father owned. I may not have seen eye-to-eye with my mom, but I learned a few things from her."
"How come you've never cooked for us?" Apple Bloom asked as they made their way into the kitchen.
"Because either your sister or Granny Smith beats me to it every time." He stopped. That gave him an idea…
But first things first. "All right, you go grab the flour, sugar, and baking powder, and I'll grab the butter and eggs. And be as quiet as you can!" Apple Bloom gave him a salute and bounded off to the pantry. Sketch just shook his head and smiled. Late night secret cookie baking… his life had certainly gotten interesting.
***
"What in tarnation…? Sketch, what are you doin' up this early?" Applejack walked into the kitchen, yawning. It was one of the few times Sketch had seen her without her hat on or her mane tied into a ponytail. The long hair hung loose, mussed from a night's sleep, and framed her face in such a way that Sketch found himself staring.
Tearing his gaze away from her and back to the stove, he answered simply, "Cooking breakfast."
"How long have you been up?"
"All night, actually."
"All night?!"
He shrugged and responded without turning around, "I'm not sure I would have been able to sleep even if I tried." He finished up and dumped the contents of the frying pan into a serving bowl, then turned around looked Applejack in the eye. "Applejack, I… I'm sorry. I acted like a complete pony's patoot yesterday. I had a knee-jerk reaction to your comment about me being an artist. It brought up some bad memories."
"Ah never should've said it, Sketch."
"No, I'm glad you did," he said, giving her a small smile. "What you said was true – you had no reason to believe that I would have been any good at applebucking, or any kind of physical job for that matter. And the ironic thing is that I got mad at you for taking a stereotypical view of artists, when I displayed the stereotypical oversensitivity of an artist. Anyway, I just wanted to apologize and I thought maybe making breakfast was a small way of doing that."
Applejack walked forward and kissed Sketch on the cheek, surprising him. "Apology accepted. But you didn't need to go through all the trouble, sugar cube. All ya had to do was say the words."
He blushed, and the spot where she had kissed him tingled pleasantly. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Well then, what if I said that I wanted to cook for you?"
"Then ah'd say ah'm pleased as punch to let you. What're we havin'?"
"Asparagus omelets with hollandaise sauce, warm apple compote with raisins, and corn muffins."
"Mah goodness, that's quite a meal. How come you never told me you could cook?"
"You've been keeping me too busy applebucking. Oh, and there's some sugar cookies on the counter." Applejack raised an eyebrow and Sketch just shrugged. "Long story."
Chapter Eight: In Which a Plan is Hatched
Two weeks into applebucking season all of the trees were nearly bare. Applejack mentioned at dinner that night that just one more week at the current rate and they would be finished. As elated as Sketch found himself feeling at the prospect, a worried thought began to nag at him. Later, as he was helping Applejack dry the dishes, the orange pony picked up on it.
"Somethin' the matter, sugar cube?" she asked, glancing over at Sketch. "You've been awful quiet."
"I was just wondering…" he said, pausing and looking up. "You hired me to help with the applebucking and sorting the apples once they were all bucked. But, beyond that…"
"Yer wonderin' if I plan on keepin' you around, is that it?" Sketch nodded. "Ah've been thinkin' about that, too. Once autumn is over and winter hits, we live off of the money we make from our apple harvestin'. Ah'm not sure ah could afford to keep payin' you, and you'd be one more mouth to feed."
"I understand," Sketch said as he finished drying a dish. And he did understand; he would be sad to leave, but the family at Sweet Apple Acres had been more than generous in taking him in. If he was only going to be a burden there was no point in his staying.
"But ah think it all boils down to one important question," Applejack continued, and Sketch looked up, eyebrow raised. "Do you want to stay?"
A part of him urged him to lie, to say "no" so that he could leave and let the family get on with their normal lives. He had enough money saved up to keep him afloat for a little while. He could survive. But once again he thought about the lesson he had learned long ago about honesty, and he couldn't bear to lie to someone that he respected and admired and…
"I do," he answered finally. "I'm not sure I could bear to leave you… any of you at this point. But I'll understand if you insist that I leave." There was a pause and he asked in a quiet voice, "Applejack… do you want me stay?"
The smile in her eyes was all the answer he needed.
***
"It's all yers, sugar cube," Applejack said.
"Are you sure?" Sketch asked, watching the pony nod in response. He looked at the rest of the family, all of whom nodded as well.
"Give it what fer, young'n!" Granny Smith said with an eagerness that defied her age.
Sketch readied himself and let loose with a hard kick into the final tree full of apples. Most of them fell, but there were still a few dangling from the branches. Regardless, the family cheered, and Sketch finished up the job with a grin.
"Applebuckin' season is officially over!" Applejack said. "Now to get these here apples ready for market."
"A pony's work is never done, huh?" Sketch said to Big McIntosh as they collected the apples from the ground.
"Eeyup."
***
Sketch found himself having the same problem with Fluttershy's portrait that he had experienced with Twilight Sparkle's. He did everything he could think of to make it look perfect, but in the end he just wasn't satisfied. However, as in Twilight's case, Fluttershy loved it.
"It's so detailed!" she said in her whispering voice. "And you made Angel look so cute!"
The little white rabbit gave her a look that said, "I make myself look cute."
"I'm glad you like it," Sketch said with a smile, deferring once again to his policy of keeping his opinions to himself. If only he could figure out exactly what he was doing wrong…
"It'll look beautiful over the fireplace," the yellow pony murmured, looking over at the spot.
"Do you want some help hanging it?" Sketch offered.
"Oh no, you go and enjoy the rest of your day off. Thank you so much for this!"
"I'm glad I could do it."
Sketch left the cottage and walked up the road, the afternoon autumn sunlight bathing him in warmth in the midst of the cool air. His wagon felt so light now after building up his muscles from applebucking. He wondered just how fast he'd be able to gallop.
As if drawn to him by thoughts of speed, a blue blur soared overhead, then circled back around and landed next to him. "Hey, Sketch!"
"Hey, Rainbow Dash!"
"Applejack finally let you off the farm, huh?"
"Yeah. We're taking rotating days off this week. I was just at Fluttershy's painting her portrait."
"You should do one of me! That'd be the coolest portrait ever."
"I have no doubt. Only I just had the one canvas with me. But," he said, rubbing his chin with a hoof, "I have my sketchbook with me and I haven't done any sketching in a long time. I could do some action shots of you while you do some tricks. That way I can finally make true on my promise to you as well."
"Now that's an idea I like!" Rainbow Dash said, spreading her wings in anticipation.
They found an open area with a tree for Sketch to sit under, and without further hesitation Rainbow Dash started performing for him. He had to sketch quickly due to her sheer speed, quicker than he was used to, but it was a good exercise for him. He didn't even look at the sketches as he did him, just sketched and moved onto the next page as Rainbow Dash did loop-de-loops, barrel rolls, and last minute swoops as she headed for the ground. The pegasus was so entrancing that Sketch wouldn't have been able to look away even if he had wanted to, so his eyes followed the pony at the head of the rainbow trail, and he continued to sketch and flip the pages of his sketchbook.
After about a half-hour or so, Rainbow Dash landed next to Sketch, breathing hard. "So what do you think? Pretty impressive, huh?"
"It was all right I guess," he said, and when Rainbow Dash narrowed her eyes he grinned. "It was amazing." The pegasus beamed.
"Can I look at your sketches?"
"Oh, sure, go ahead." Sketch flipped to the beginning and passed the book to her.
"Wow, these are pretty good," she said, slowly flipping through the pages. "Of course, you had a great subject."
"Of course."
"You could probably sell these." Sketch just smiled and shrugged.
After a while Rainbow Dash's expression became confused. "What's wrong?" Sketch asked.
"Uh, the last bunch of sketches aren't of me."
"Huh?"
"These are of Applejack," she said and held up the sketchbook for Sketch to see. She was right – on the page was a sketch of Applejack leaning against a tree and smiling.
"I, uh… whoops," was all he could say, and blushed. What had happened?
"Well, no big deal or anything. The stuff with me was better anyway." She handed the book back to Sketch. "Thanks for finally coming to watch me."
The two said their goodbyes and Rainbow Dash flew off. Sketch stayed in place, flipping through the sketchbook. His movement sketches of Rainbow Dash were pretty good. And then, suddenly, there were sketches of Applejack. The only thing he could think of was that since he had been so distracted with Rainbow Dash's air show, his subconscious had taken over. That sort of thing had never happened before, though.
He flipped back to the sketches of Rainbow Dash and something she said lodged itself in his mind. His confusion melted away as a plan began to formulate. He smiled as the pieces came together, and he realized who he needed to ask for help.
***
"Sketch!"
Sketch turned and saw Twilight Sparkle approaching from the opposite side of the street. "Oh, hey Twilight!"
"I didn't know you had the day off."
"I was planning on coming to see you, I swear," he raised a hoof and made a cross over his heart. "I needed to find Pinkie Pie, first."
"Pinkie Pie?" Twilight furrowed her brow. "What for?"
"If you've got time, come along and you'll see."
The two made their way to Sugarcube Corner and found Mrs. Cake at the counter. "Good afternoon, you two," she said, smiling. "How are you?"
"Doing very well, Mrs. Cake, thank you," Twilight said, and Sketch nodded in agreement. "And you?"
"The same, thank you. Now, what can I do for you? Some cupcakes perhaps?"
"Actually," Sketch said, "We were wondering if Pinkie Pie was available."
"Oh! Yes, I don't believe she's doing any damage at the moment." She moved to the doorway of the kitchen and called, "Pinkie Pie, visitors!"
In a flash Pinkie Pie appeared, leaning over the counter. "Hey guys! What's up? Something fun?"
"I hope so," Sketch said. "I wanted to talk to you about something."
"Sure!" The pink pony somersaulted over the counter, fell to the ground, and straightened back up. "I love talking! What do you want to talk about?"
"Well, I had this idea-"
"I like it already!"
"-of doing a gallery showing of my artwork-"
"Ooo! Fancy shmancy!"
"-and I was wondering if you'd like to plan it."
"Sure!" She paused, her eyebrows furrowing. "Wait, huh?"
"I was about to say the same thing," Twilight added, giving Sketch an incredulous glance.
"Hear me out on this," Sketch continued. "I've been to a few gallery showings, and they're very boring and very hoity-toity. That's not me at all. What I want is a Pinkie Pie planned event. You throw the best parties in Equestria, and now I want to see you put together the best gallery showing in Equestria."
The wheels were turning in Pinkie Pie's head, a mixture of emotions running across her features. Finally, she beamed and said, "I'll do it!"
"Great! Stop by the farm when you get a chance and we'll talk over the details, and I'll give you the money for your budget."
"This is going to be great!" Pinkie Pie cried, jumping up and down. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" She squeezed Sketch and then said, "I gotta get back to work now. Cakes don't bake themselves! Although that would be really neat if they could. A self-baking cake! But then I'd be out of a job, so maybe that's not such a good idea." She continued talking as she bounced over the counter and back into the kitchen.
"Are you sure about this?" Twilight asked with a doubtful expression.
"If there's one thing I've learned to do since arriving here," Sketch replied, "It's to trust in my friends."
Chapter Nine: In Which a Secret is Ousted
The gallery showing took place a mere two weeks after Sketch had commissioned Pinkie Pie to put it together. The boisterous pink pony had wanted to do it sooner than that, but Sketch had insisted that the invitations needed time to arrive at their destinations. Besides, he had needed the time to finish up a few more paintings. Between his duties on the farm, planning the event, and working on said paintings, he was exhausted by the time the showing took place. But he put on his game face and tried to enjoy himself.
It was held in the barn at Sweet Apple Acres, being the most logical choice. It was spacious enough to accommodate everypony, and Sketch's studio was right there, so he didn't have to worry about transporting his artwork. Most importantly, though, was that it was a space that Sketch didn't have to pay for; Applejack was more than willing to allow him to use it. They had gotten some help building freestanding walls to display the artwork, and hay bales served as benches for ponies to rest on. The Cakes catered the event, of course, and they outdid themselves on the spread, making it as colorful as the artwork.
"Ah can't believe you did all this," Applejack said, wandering about the room with Sketch and taking everything in.
"I had a lot of help from my friends," Sketch responded, munching on a cupcake.
"No, ah mean the paintings. With you workin' as hard as ya did on applebuckin', ah can't believe you had the time or energy to keep up with yer paintin'."
"Sometimes I couldn't believe it either. But when inspiration hits, you have to go with it."
They watched everypony studying the paintings, of which there was a wide variety. Sketch had done a handful of paintings of things around town – the library, Rarity's boutique, the apple orchard – as well as his usual fare of more abstract art. The one that he and Applejack came to rest in front of was one of the first he had done. It depicted a pony in splotchy shades of gray looking lost amidst a wash of bright colors.
"Ah guess art ain't so hard to figure out when ya' know the artist personally," Applejack said with a smile.
"Sketch, darling," came a voice from behind them. They turned to see Rarity, dressed in a gorgeous purple and silver gown. The dress code had been purposely left casual, but no one was surprised to see Rarity flaunting one of her creations. "Could I have a word with you?"
"Uh, sure," Sketch said, glancing at Applejack.
"Don't worry none, ah'll find somepony to entertain me," she said with a wink, and wandered off into the crowd.
"What's on your mind?" Sketch said, moving closer to the unicorn.
"I wanted to speak to you, artist to artist."
"All right."
"I've been looking at your work and it's outstanding. You do with a paintbrush what I do with needle and thread – create works of beauty."
"Well, thank you," Sketch said, trying not to blush.
"My concern is that you're undercharging for your work."
"Ah." He gave her a sheepish grin. "Somepony once told me that every artist undervalues his work at the beginning."
"I can't say I disagree with that," Rarity replied. "I used to undercharge for my dresses when I first started. But I learned that ponies will pay what something is worth if they want it badly enough. You would do well to remember that."
"I suppose you're right," Sketch sighed. "There's just such a fine line between being confident in your work and being pompous about it. I don't want to charge too much and come off as self-important."
"The ponies who know you will know that's not true and the ones who don't know you will at least see your work. And your work speaks for itself."
Sketch chuckled. "Is it too late to hire you as my manager?"
Rarity smiled and patted him on the cheek. "You can always have my advice for free, darling."
"Thanks, Rarity."
The unicorn walked off and Sketch found himself alone for the first time that night. He took the opportunity to wander around and check things out. In general, everyone seemed to be enjoying the artwork and atmosphere. Unlike the sterile gallery spaces Sketch had been privy to in the past, Pinkie Pie had decorated the barn to give it some color. There were the traditional multicolored streamers and banners, but what really gave the space life were the picture frames. Pinkie Pie had taken it upon herself to gather together picture frames of all sizes and shapes, and she had painted them in different colors and patterns. They hung around the barn in various spots, and there was even a spot where ponies could have their pictures taken while posing in some oversized frames. She had made the event interactive as well. In one of the corners of the barn was a space for the younger ponies to make their own paintings. As Sketch glanced in that direction, he saw Apple Bloom and her friends Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle laughing and splashing paint over a large sheet of paper. And themselves. Things were going so much better than Sketch could have hoped for.
"We came in from Canterlot for this ?" Sketch stopped cold and snapped his attention to a well-dressed couple standing in front of one of his paintings. The black stallion said gave an exasperated huff and waved a hoof at the painting. It was one that Sketch was particularly proud of – a mixture of colors and shapes that represented the inner turmoil he had been going through before arriving in Ponyville.
"It's not that bad," the pink mare standing next to the stallion said. "It's very… colorful."
"Not just the painting, I mean the whole thing. Who has a showing in a filthy barn for crying out loud? Maybe if it was some kind of a themed event I could see it. Pictures of farm living or something. But what kind of a professional artist holds a gallery showing like this?"
Sketch didn't stick around to hear the rest. A mixture of anger and dejection washed through him. Could the stallion be right? Had the showing been a bad idea? Was he just embarrassing himself by trying to be different?
That was the moment that Pinkie Pie chose to yell out, "Let's get some music going in here!" And there was music. Loud, energetic music, followed by a loud "boom" and confetti falling over the crowd. Sketch turned back to the dour pony and his companion, and the two were frowning with their hooves over their ears as shiny pieces of confetti landed on them. Then Sketch looked at everyone else in the barn and saw that they were smiling and laughing, and in some cases even dancing. With a big smile of his own on his face, he decided that he needed to give Pinkie Pie a well-deserved hug later on. Of course, the return hug would be dangerous.
Somepony cleared his throat to get Sketch's attention. It was an older stallion with brown hair, a yellow mane, and a warm smile. "Excuse me," he said in a voice loud enough to be heard over the music. "Are you the artist?"
"I am," Sketch answered, a bit nervous. Somepony must have pointed him out; he had been trying to remain inconspicuous.
"I just wanted to say that I'm quite impressed!" the stallion said. "You have a style very reminiscent of Artsy Brushstroke himself."
"That's because Sketch was Artsy's protégé," a familiar voice spoke up from behind Sketch. He snapped around to see Twilight Sparkle smiling at the older pony.
"You don't say?" The pony's eyes got wider. Sketch gave a small smile and nodded. "Well, I happen to own an Artsy Brushstroke original, and I think I may have to leave tonight with one of yours to hang next to it."
"I'd be more than honored," Sketch said, flattered. The older pony shook Sketch's hoof and wandered off. Sketch turned to Twilight and said, "Aren't you supposed to be at the purchase table?"
"Rarity took over for me so I could come see you." She must have detected a tone in Sketch's voice because she asked, "did I do something wrong?"
Sketch pointed towards the doors and the two headed outside into the cold air, where the noise level was significantly less oppressive.
"I'm sorry, Sketch," Twilight began, "I was only trying to help."
"No, it's all right, Twilight. I'm not mad at you, I'm just… I don't know what I am." He paused and looked the unicorn. "Actually, I'm confused. How did you find out that I was Artsy's protégé?"
"I was trying to prepare for tonight by reading up on art. I figured that way I could actually converse about this stuff. And I remembered you mentioning that Artsy Brushstroke was your favorite artist, so I tried to collect some information on him. I managed to get some old newspapers talking about his death, and it mentioned him having a protégé named Waldorf." Sketch flinched. "My curiosity got the best of me, and I did some research on the name and traced it back to Whinnypeg. At that point I put two and two together."
"You're a regular Fetlock Holmes, Twilight," Sketch admitted, and then sighed. "You caught me. My real name is Waldorf, not Sketch. Artsy gave me my nickname based on all the drawings I sent him through the mail before he took me on as a protégé. He said it suited me better than my real name, and I tend to agree on that point."
"Why did you feel you needed to hide that from us?"
"I wasn't really trying to hide it. I just… never wanted to talk about it. I wanted to forget the past and start a new life."
"But why wouldn't you want anypony to know that you were Artsy's protégé?"
Sketch leaned against the wall of the barn and looked down at the dry autumn grass. "I idolized Artsy. It wasn't just for his talent, but it was also for his vision. An ordinary pony would look at his work and see it at face value, just colors and forms on a canvas. But there was always a deeper meaning, something poignant, beyond the surface. And I know I'll never reach that point. If only I had been able to study with him a little longer, I might have been able to."
"You don't know that you'll never reach that level, Sketch," Twilight said, placing a hoof on Sketch's foreleg. "There are lots of ponies in that barn who are impressed with your work."
"There are some who aren't, as well," Sketch mumbled, thinking about the frowning couple.
"You're never going to be able to please everyone. That's what makes a piece of art so interesting to discuss - you have ponies who like it and ponies who don't, those who get it and those who never will. What's important is that you do work that you're proud of."
"I guess you're right," Sketch said. He snorted and shook his head. "I hate moments like this, where something simple has to be pointed out by someone else."
"That's what friends are there for."
"To make you feel stupid?"
"Exactly." She gave Sketch a teasing grin and they both laughed.
"Thanks, Twilight," he said and hesitated a moment before giving her a hug. It felt just as good to be on the giving end of a hug as it was to be on the receiving end.
"Uh, sorry to interrupt y'all, but yer needed inside, Twilight." Applejack had appeared from nowhere, startling the two. "Derpy spilled her drink on Rarity's dress, and-"
"I get the idea," Twilight said, rolling her eyes. "Duty calls." She made her way back to the barn, leaving Sketch and Applejack alone outside.
"So," said Applejack, looking at nothing in particular. "You 'n Twilight have gotten pretty close."
"Yeah, I guess we have," Sketch replied. "It's nice because there's… a connection with her that I've only felt once before."
"Ah'm happy for you." Applejack's tone was a bit flat, and Sketch raised an eyebrow.
"Is everything all right?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah, ah'm fine." She gave Sketch a smile. "Ah'm just tired, is all. From all the decoratin' and settin' up."
"That's understandable." He paused, studying Applejack and then meeting her eyes. "I couldn't have done all this without you, Applejack. Everything, I mean. You helped me stay on my hooves, you supported me, you gave me a chance to do this showing. I'm really grateful to have met you."
"Same here, sugar cube." Her tone was still a little off, but there was a bit more emotion at that point. "C'mon, you still got lots'a ponies in there, and yer the star attraction."
Reluctant to escape the safety and quiet of the outdoors, Sketch nodded and the two walked back together.
***
At the end of the night, half of Sketch's paintings had been sold. It was more than he had expected, yet not as much as he had hoped for. Still, he had been able to make back the money he had spent on the showing and double what he had started with. But the profit had never been intended for him.
"Sketch, you can't be serious," Applejack said with a horrified look on her face. "This here money's yers! You earned it!"
"You're right, I did," Sketch nodded, pushing the lockbox of bits in front of Applejack. "Which means I can do what I want with it. And I want to give it to you." Applejack still didn't make a move to take it, and Sketch sighed. "Look, if I'm going to stay with you ponies at the farm, but I'm not going to have any work to do, I want to at least contribute something in advance."
After taking a moment to think it over, the orange pony placed a hoof on the lockbox. "You sure 'bout this, sugar cube?" she asked gently, looking Sketch in the eyes.
He nodded. "Very sure."
"So all this," she gestured with her head at the decorated interior of the barn which was being dismantled by their friends, "was just to make money for me 'n the family?" Sketch nodded again, and Applejack gave him a huge smile. "Sketch, yer just about the most thoughtful pony ah've ever met." She gave him a hug, which he found himself melting into.
"Hey, are you two gonna stop being all touchy-feely and actually help us?" Rainbow Dash called from a far end of the barn.
"Nope, yer doin' just fine on yer own, Rainbow Dash," Applejack yelled back, giving Sketch a wink.
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Chapter Ten: In Which an Invitation is Received
As winter descended upon Equestria, Sketch found himself with a lot more time on his hooves. The apples that had been bucked in the autumn had all been sold or turned into cider, jam, and preserves. Applejack and her family spent much of their time taking care of repairs and other types of maintenance around the farm that they couldn't get to in the busier seasons. It wasn't uncommon for Sketch to be painting in his studio and hear someone below hammering or sawing away at something.
He also used his time to visit with Twilight Sparkle, talking with her about magic and Canterlot and the myriad things that she studied. In return, he taught her all he knew about painting and art in general. Occasionally one or more of the other ponies would stop by, and Sketch was able to get to know them better as well. It felt strange to have friends; Artsy had been a friend, but it had been a different relationship between the two of them. There had always been a bit of distance, the gap between teacher and student.
One afternoon the whole gang was together at Twilight's when Spike had a sudden burp, and out popped a letter from Princess Celestia. Sketch had witnessed the phenomenon a few times, but it never failed to amuse him. "What is it, Spike?" Twilight asked, looking puzzled. "I wasn't expecting anything from the princess."
"Let's see," Spike mumbled as he unrolled the letter and looked it over. "'Dear Twilight Sparkle, I am holding a ball this year at the palace on the eve of Midwinter. I am hoping it will become an annual event, complete with an auction to raise money for charity. Enclosed are tickets for you and your friends. You are encouraged to bring something for the auction, but it is not required. I hope to see you all there. Sincerely, Princess Celestia.'" Spike held up a handful of tickets, each with a royal-looking seal on them.
"Oh my, that sounds positively delightful!" Rarity cooed. "I could create an exquisite gown to auction off! And one to wear, of course."
"Yeah, and Sketch could do a painting!" Pinkie Pie said.
Twilight recounted the tickets and gave an embarrassed cough. "Actually, there are only enough tickets for seven of us."
"That's okay," Sketch said, shaking his head. "You ponies would probably have a better time than I would anyway. I've been to things like that and they're usually pretty boring."
"That's because you haven't gone with us," Pinkie Pie said. "You should hear what happened at the Grand Galloping Gala!"
"Oh, let's not bring that up again," Fluttershy spoke up, a blush rising to her cheeks. "I still have nightmares about it."
Sketch raised an eyebrow, but Applejack interjected. "Twilight, if Sketch can't go, then ah'm not goin', neither."
"Applejack, you don't have to-" Sketch started, but was interrupted by Pinkie Pie.
"You have to go, Applejack! We're a team! A group! A posse! A pony posse prepared to party! Don't be a pony posse party pooper!"
"Sketch is one of us now," Applejack responded, "And if we don’t go together, ah don’t want to go at all."
"Well, if Applejack isn’t going, I’m not going," Rainbow Dash said, sitting back on her haunches and folding her forelegs over her chest. "I need someone to keep me sane from all the girly foo-foo stuff."
"Wait a minute," Sketch tried to interject, "You ponies are-"
"What about the pony posse?" cried Pinkie Pie.
"Everypony calm down," Twilight said in a loud voice, holding up a silencing hoof. She turned to Sketch. "I'll just ask the princess for an extra ticket."
"There’s no need to bother her," Sketch replied, but Twilight shook her head.
"It's no bother! She trusts me, and if I tell her that there's one more pony who should be with us, she'll understand." Sketch tried to argue some more, but Twilight was moving ahead. "Spike, send Princess Celestia a message asking for one more ticket for our newest best friend, Sketch."
"Already on it," Spike responded, his hand scribbling away on a piece of paper. He finished in no time, rolled it up, and breathed fire on it. They all watched it swirl and dissipate, finally disappearing with a soft "pop".
The group waited in silence, and in moments Spike let out another burp. He unrolled the letter and smiled at Sketch, holding up another ticket. "Looks like I won't be the only guy going this time."
Twilight read the letter and looked up, smiling. "See? 'Twilight Sparkle, here is an extra ticket for your friend Sketch. All I ask is for the opportunity to meet him. Sincerely, Princess Celestia.'"
"Hurray!" Pinkie Pie cried, doing cartwheels around the room. "We're going to a paaaarty! We're going to a paaaarty!"
"Thanks, Twilight," Sketch said with a grateful smile. He couldn't believe that he was going to a celebration at Canterlot, or that he would be meeting Princess Celestia!
For the rest of the afternoon the ponies speculated about what they'd see at the Midwinter Ball. Pinkie Pie continually bugged Sketch about what he was going to paint for the auction, and he kept telling her he didn't know. In reality, he had an inkling, but wasn't ready to commit to it yet. When he and Applejack left, the sun was just touching the horizon. The two walked in silence for a bit before Sketch spoke. "Thanks for saying you wouldn't go to the ball if I wasn't able to go, and for saying I’m one of the group."
"You're welcome, sugar cube, although ah guess it doesn't matter 'cause Twilight Sparkle saved the day." There was a tone in Applejack's voice that worried Sketch.
"Applejack, I… have I done something to offend you? Or said something wrong?"
"No, Sketch," the orange pony shook her head. "Ah… ah just have some things on mah mind."
Sketch wanted to believe her, but there was something in the way she spoke that left him unconvinced. Unfortunately, if there really was something bothering her, she didn't seem to be interested in talking about it. With a quiet sigh he dropped the matter and trotted beside her back to the farm, making the rest of the journey in an uncomfortable silence.
***
"Darling, please hold still, I have to finish pinning this."
"Sorry," Sketch muttered. He was getting antsy, having been at Rarity’s mercy for the whole afternoon as she measured and fitted him for his Midwinter Ball tuxedo. "How much will I owe you for this, by the way?"
"Owe me?" Rarity looked away from her work, catching Sketch’s eyes. By her expression anypony would have thought Sketch had just asked her a complicated math question. "Why, you don’t owe me a thing, darling. This is my pleasure to do."
"But you’re taking time away from your usual work!"
"And it’s my prerogative to charge or not to charge for it." With that she went back to putting pins into the cuffs.
Sketch had still not quite been able to lose his guilty feelings when somepony did something big for him, so he said, "Would you let me paint your portrait for you like I did for Twilight Sparkle and Fluttershy?"
At that Rarity’s eyes sparkled and a dreamy smile stretched her lips. "A portrait? Of me? Oh, how wonderful!"
With a laugh and release of tension, Sketch said, "I’ll take that as a ‘yes’."
Rarity finished up her work and assured Sketch that she would complete the tux in plenty of time for a final fitting before the ball. "When would you like me to stop by to do your portrait?" Sketch asked as he slipped on his overcoat.
"Hmm," the unicorn scrunched up her face and put her hoof to her chin. "It would have to be after the ball, what with all the outfits I’m doing for everyone, plus the gown I’m going to auction off. How about two days after the ball? That way we have time to relax the following day."
"I think I can do that."
"Then it’s a date!" Rarity beamed.
Sketch nodded and turned towards the door, only to see Applejack standing in the doorway. "Oh! Hey, Applejack!"
"You two plannin’ a date now?" she said in that tone that had been rather pervasive lately.
"He’s going to paint my portrait," Rarity said with stars in her eyes. "Can you imagine it? My beautiful face on canvas!"
"Another portrait, huh?" the orange pony said, avoiding Sketch’s eyes as she walked into the room.
"Um, yeah," Sketch replied, still unsure of what the problem was. "Applejack, what-"
"Let’s get this over with, Rarity," Applejack said, removing her hat and ignoring Sketch. "Ah got a lotta work waitin' for me."
Dejected, Sketch left the boutique with a sigh.
***
After the uncomfortable situation at Rarity’s, Sketch spent a lot more time holed away in his studio. Artsy had always told him to channel any extreme emotion, positive or negative, into creativity. And Sketch certainly had a plethora of negative emotions to utilize. Fortunately, that helped him finish his painting for the Midwinter Ball auction, as well as few other paintings, some good and some not so good.
One night Sketch was returning from a long stint in his studio when he bumped into Apple Bloom in the dining room. "Hey big bro," she whispered before taking a bite of a slice of leftover apple pie.
"Hey little sis," Sketch answered.
Apparently he had said it in such a way as to cause concern in the young filly. "What’s the matter?"
With a sigh he sat at the table with her. "That’s just the problem – I don’t know."
"Does this have to do with mah sister? Ah’ve noticed you two ain’t speakin’ to each other much."
"She’s been acting really weird and I don’t know why. I must have done something wrong."
"If you want mah opinion, big bro, ah think she wants you to do somethin’ special for her."
"Something special?" Sketch blinked a few times, mulling that over. "Of course!" he nearly shouted, prompting a "Shhhh!" from Apple Bloom. "Of course. She’s done so much for me. I need to do something for her!"
"Well, that ain’t exactly what ah meant…" Applebloom started, but Sketch didn’t let her finish.
"Thank you so much, Apple Bloom!" With that Sketch made his way quietly up to his room, where he sat on his bed and lost himself in his thoughts, muttering, "Something special…" over and over again.
***
"Dancing?" Twilight Sparkle raised an eyebrow. "I’ve read books on it, but I’ve never really done it. Why do you ask?"
"I want to do something special for Applejack," Sketch replied. "So I thought if I could learn how to dance in the next few days I could make her feel special at the Midwinter Ball."
"That’s really sweet, Sketch. But you’d be better off asking Rarity. Out of all of us she’s the one who would know about dancing."
"I thought of her, but she’s so busy with everyone’s ball outfits that I don’t think she’d be able to help. I figured you’d be the next best person to ask. You’d at least have books on the subject."
"Well… I suppose we could give it a try," Twilight said, glancing over at Spike, who was sweeping the floor. "Spike, could you round up all the books you can find on ballroom dancing?"
"I’m on it!" the little dragon saluted, tossing the broom aside and moving the ladder to a point at the far end of the room.
"Thanks so much, Twilight," Sketch said with a smile.
"Sure thing. Just don’t say you owe me for this or I won’t teach you a thing."
***
The lessons commenced with no shortage of stepping on hooves, tripping, and falling. There was also no shortage of laughter from Spike as he watched. The directions in the books that Twilight read from seemed easy on paper, but in practice were rather difficult. By the end of the first day the two ponies looked as though they had been wrestling instead of dancing, and by the way Sketch felt he realized he might as well have been.
The following day Sketch came to the conclusion that applebucking had been much easier. Dancing required not only memorization of the moves, but also a sense of rhythm, something that he had never really had. Put a paint brush in his mouth and he could do wonders, but when it came to music he was clueless.
That evening when Sketch returned to the farm Applejack was setting the table. "Need some help?" he asked.
"Sure. Why don’t ya grab the servin’ bowls off the kitchen counter." Sketch complied and as he returned, Applejack said, "You’ve been mighty scarce the past couple’a days."
"Oh, I’ve been at Twilight’s," Sketch said. "We’ve, um… been studying some stuff together."
"Of course. At Twilight’s. Ah should’ve known."
Sketch felt like a heel. He couldn’t tell Applejack why he had been gone the last few days because he wanted it to be a surprise. At the same time, he couldn't deal with the awkwardness that risen up between them. Without saying another word, Sketch finished helping Applejack set the table and then excused himself.
"Ain’t you gonna eat with us? Or are you gonna go eat with Twilight Sparkle?"
"What? No, I'm just… I’m not hungry," Sketch lied without turning around. "I’m going to go paint." He was starving, but he knew he wouldn't be able to eat knowing that Applejack was upset with him. Just one more day, he thought to himself as he plodded sadly towards the barn. Just one more day and he’d be able to something special for Applejack.
Chapter Eleven: In Which Much Happens
"Well, neither one of us is going to win any dance competitions," Twilight said after their final session. "But I think we've learned enough to get by on. Applejack is really going to be surprised."
"I hope so," Sketch said, his stomach knotting as he recalled the previous evening. "Thanks again, Twilight. I couldn’t have done this without you."
"You’re very welcome. Now you better get over to Rarity’s and pick up your tux. Everypony’s meeting here at six o’clock to take the carriage to Canterlot."
"I’ll be here." With that Sketch trotted over to Rarity’s boutique. The poor unicorn was rushing around so much that she practically threw Sketch’s tux at him. With a quick thank you he made a hasty retreat, figuring it was best to stay out of her way.
"Hey Sketch!" a voice startled him before he was able to finish closing Rarity’s door. He turned to see Pinkie Pie. "Ooo, is that your outfit for tonight? I bet you’ll look super-duper handsome in that!"
"Uh, thanks, Pinkie Pie. Are you here to get your outfit?"
"Yuppers! I’m so excited about tonight, aren’t you? What kind of music do you think they'll have? Oh! Oh! What kind of food do you think they’ll have? I hope they have cupcakes! Oh, and little sandwiches! And punch!"
"I guess we’ll find out," Sketch said, politely trying to extricate himself from the conversation. "By the way, Rarity is pretty busy, so don’t-"
"Oh, she always makes time for me!" With that Pinkie burst through the front door. There was clatter and Rarity’s voice rose. Sketch didn’t stick around to hear any more.
***
It had been a long time since Sketch had worn a tux, but he could tell that Rarity had taken great care in crafting it. It fit him like a second skin and he had to admit that it looked great on him. Instead of a bow tie he had a neck clasp with an emerald that accented his purple hair. The tails of the tuxedo extended back along his flank, and the lapels were very sharp cut.
Sketch tied the wrapped-up painting that he was going to donate to the charity auction to his saddlebag. Ready at last, he emerged from his room and made his way down the stairs, where Apple Bloom was waiting impatiently. When she caught sight of him, she said, "Oooo-wee, big bro, you look handsome!"
"Thanks, little sis! Is Applejack done getting ready yet?"
"Nah, she’s still upstairs. Granny Smith is doin' up her hair."
Nervous, Sketch started pacing back and forth in the dining room. In his head he was going over the dance steps that he had learned with Twilight Sparkle. His lips were moving, forming the words "left", "right", and "turn" over and over again. He was so distracted with his thoughts that he lost track of time until a gentle cough brought him to his senses.
In the doorway stood Applejack, radiant in the outfit that Rarity had put together for her. It was a gown of browns and yellows, subtly mixing with the color of Applejack’s hair. As a fellow artist, Sketch found Rarity’s use of colors positively brilliant. But thoughts of Rarity quickly disappeared as he continued to stare at the pony in front of him. Her mane was done up in a braid that wrapped around the top of her head in a crown-like fashion. Dangling from her neck was a pendant that not only matched the color of her eyes, but the color of Sketch’s collar clasp. Briefly he wondered whether or not he’d ever be able to paint something as beautiful as what he was seeing at that moment.
"We just gonna stand here all night, or are you gonna escort a gal to the ball?" The way she said those words was playful, the way she used to talk to him not long ago. He looked into her eyes and saw that they were softer than they had been in recent weeks, and she was even smiling slightly.
"I’m… I’m sorry, I just… you look amazing, Applejack."
"You don’t look so bad yerself, sugar cube. Why, you even got a mane cut!"
"Yeah, Apple Bloom did it for me."
"You trusted that little devil with a pair of scissors?"
"Hey!" came an indignant cry from the next room.
"Apple Bloom, are you eavesdroppin'?" Applejack called, giving Sketch a wink.
"Nuh-uh!" sounded the response.
The two ponies laughed, and then gazed at each other, smiling, until Apple Bloom poked her head into the room. "Would you two just get goin’ already?"
Without further hesitation, and without taking their eyes off of each other, Sketch and Applejack walked out into the early evening air. It was chilly, and a light snow had dusted the ground, crunching under their hooves. The moon was full and reflected off the frozen white blanket, and Sketch couldn’t think of a more wonderful moment in his life.
"Sketch," Applejack said, and then fell silent. Sketch kept quiet, letting the pony gather her thoughts. When she did, her eyes were downcast. "Sketch, ah… ah’m sorry about the way ah’ve been actin’. It’s hard for me to say this, but… ah’ve been jealous."
"Jealous?" Sketch raised an eyebrow.
"You’ve been spendin’ an awful lot of time with Twilight Sparkle, and ah guess ah kind of felt left out. Ah mean, ah got so used to you bein’ around durin’ applebuckin’ season that ah… ah started to miss you. So ah started getting’ jealous of you bein’ with Twilight."
"Applejack, I’m… I’m really sorry. I guess I never stopped to think about that. I’m still new to the whole friendship thing, so I… I’m sorry." He paused, glancing over at the orange pony. "I promise I’ll spend all evening with you, okay?"
"Ah’d like that," Applejack responded in a soft voice and inched a little closer to Sketch.
They walked together in a comfortable silence, something that had been missing for too long. Sketch was almost sad when they reached the library. The two walked in and everypony greeted them cheerily. They were all dressed to the nines, in beautiful gowns and dresses, and Spike in a fashionable little tux.
"Oh my gosh, you two look so cuuuuuuute!" Pinkie Pie squealed, twirling in her poofy pink gown. Then she spotted the wrapped up painting on Sketch’s saddlebag and her eyes got wider, which seemed impossible. "I wanna see! I wanna see! I wanna see!"
"I’d like to see it, too, Sketch," Twilight said. "You’ve been keeping it a secret."
"Spike, can you give me some help?" Sketch asked the dragon, figuring he’d be quicker at untying and unwrapping the canvas.
"Sure thing!" Spike said. When he unveiled the painting, the ponies in the room fell silent.
Since the moment that the Princess had sent the extra invitation for Sketch, he was pretty sure of what he wanted to do. The painting had gone through two different versions before he ended up with one that he liked. It depicted a crowd scene with the buildings of Canterlot in the background. Walking through the crowd was Princess Celestia, her multi-colored mane trailing behind her and a smile of genuine adoration for her subjects on her face. In the bottom left corner of the painting was a close-up of a purple colt sporting a brown mane who had been hoisted up on somepony’s back, watching the Princess in awe.
Surprisingly, the first to speak up was Rainbow Dash. "I’m not one for art, but that’s pretty awesome, Sketch."
"It’s beautiful," Rarity breathed. "The colors are so subtle and calm, but it’s energetic at the same time."
"What she said," Spike added.
"Is that actually something that happened to you, Sketch?" Twilight asked.
Before Sketch could respond, there was a knock at the door. The carriage had arrived and Pinkie Pie went dashing through the door, shrieking happily all the way. Spike helped Sketch rewrap and tie up the painting and they followed everypony else to the awaiting carriage. They were all chattering away in excitement about the upcoming festivities, having forgotten all about Sketch’s painting and the story behind it.
"You can tell me about it later, sugar cube," Applejack whispered to Sketch as she passed by him to climb up into the carriage. He gave her a smile and climbed in behind her.
***
The palace at Canterlot was grander than Sketch remembered from his one and only visit. Of course, he had only seen the structure from afar, never as close as he now stood to it. The spires and bridges and waterfalls and fountains all joined together in such an amazing way that Sketch found himself stunned by it.
"You comin’ or what, slowpoke?" Rainbow Dash called, hovering not far from him. The others had already gone ahead, and Sketch galloped to catch up.
"It is something to see, isn’t it?" Twilight said, watching Sketch taking in all the sights.
"It’s an artist’s dream!" he replied in a hushed voice.
The group entered the grand gates of the palace. Just inside was a table with a sign that read, "Auction Items" and Sketch made his way over to drop off his painting.
A light-blue mare with horn-rimmed glasses took the painting and asked, "What is the item’s suggested value?"
"Oh, uh," Sketch stammered, caught off guard. "I don’t know, I… um… I guess one hundred-"
"Five hundred bits," Rarity said in a strong voice, appearing at Sketch’s side.
"Right, that’s what I meant," Sketch said and blushed. "Five hundred bits." He glanced at Rarity and she winked at him.
"Five hundred," the blue mare repeated, writing it down. "And what do you have, ma'am?"
Rarity handed over the gemstone-adorned white gown that she had slaved away at and gave it a value of fifteen hundred bits. Sketch had to admire the confidence in which she priced her creative work. He still felt that five hundred bits was far too much for his painting.
Sensing Sketch’s apprehension as they left the table, Rarity said, "Five hundred was far less than I think you should have valued it, but I thought you’d be more comfortable with that number."
"I don’t know… but I’ll trust you, Rarity. Thanks."
"You’re welcome, darling. Now let’s get you to the coat and bag check so you can lose that worn saddlebag. It’s covering up my wonderfully-made tux."
***
The beginning of the night was nothing more than mingling, something that Sketch had experienced too many times at his parents' behest. However, he felt more comfortable this time around. He wanted to chalk it up to the confidence that he had built up since leaving Whinnypeg, but it was probably more due to the fact that Applejack had remained at his side since they entered the ballroom. Her presence made him feel calmer and happier, and he found himself trading silent smiles with her throughout the course of the evening.
When they found their way to the food tables, they were unsurprised to find Pinkie Pie sampling everything she could get her hooves on. "Guys!" she yelled, spotting them. "You gotta try these little pink pastry thingies! They’re crazy yummy! Ooo! And the mini cupcakes with the sprinkles! I love sprinkles!" To appease the pink pony, both Sketch and Applejack took her advice and were pleasantly surprised to find out just how tasty the food was.
Leaving Pinkie Pie to do more damage to the food table, the two weaved through the crowd, pony-watching and listening to the soft music being played by a skilled quartet. Sketch had fallen under the spell of the ball and nearly jumped as a hoof tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to see a familiar face, a face he hadn’t seen in a long time.
"Sketch, is that you, my boy?" the sharp-dressed pony in front of him asked with a touch of an exotic accent. The stallion smiled beneath a thin mustache.
"Hello, Topstitch," Sketch said with a smile of his own. "It’s a pleasure to see you again."
"And you as well, lad. I must say that this is the last place I’d have expected to see you."
"My life has become rather… interesting," Sketch said with a glance at Applejack. "Topstitch, this is my very good friend, Applejack. Applejack, this is Topstitch."
"A pleasure to meetcha, sir," Applejack said, bowing her head demurely.
"And you, lovely lady," Topstitch returned with a nod and a smile. "I see you keep much more pleasant looking company than when we last met, Sketch. No offense to the deceased, of course, just a friendly jibe at a contemporary who would have enjoyed it."
"He certainly would have," Sketch said with a wistful smile.
"Do you still have the coat?"
"I wear it all the time."
"Excellent. I like to know that it has a good home with someone who appreciates it."
A thought struck Sketch and he glanced around for a moment before catching sight of a shimmering purple and silver gown. "Topstitch, there’s somepony whom I know would love to meet you. She’s a friend of mine and she’s a very talented fashion designer."
"Upon your recommendation, I would be pleased to meet her."
"She’s right over there in the purple and silver gown," Sketch pointed a hoof. "Her name is Rarity."
"What a lovely gown indeed! I look forward to speaking with her. Take care, my boy."
"You, too."
The stallion wandered off in Rarity’s direction and Sketch watched long enough to catch the wide-eyed expression that came over the unicorn when Topstitch introduced himself. Applejack watched as well and laughed. "Ah think she might've had a heart attack."
The two wandered some more before an announcement was made about the start of the auction. Everypony began to file into the auction room, but Sketch stayed where he was. He looked at Applejack and said, "If you want to watch it, go ahead. I don’t think I can be in there, though."
"Why not?"
"I don’t want to know how much my painting goes for."
"What if it goes for a lot 'a money?"
"That’s what I’m afraid of."
Applejack screwed up her face in a confused expression and then shook her head. "Ah don’t think ah’ll ever understand artists. But ah’ll stick with you, sugar cube."
They wandered away from the festivities, down a long, deserted hallway. There was a large picture window that they stopped at and they gazed out on a snow-covered garden. After a few moments of silence Applejack spoke up. "Ah’m guessing you met Topstitch through Artsy, right?"
"Right."
"So how’d you end up with the coat anyway?"
It was the question that Sketch had been dreading to hear anypony ask, but in the end he found himself glad it was Applejack who did. He had opened up a bit more about his mentor after Twilight had made her discovery, but he still hadn't talked about it at length. "Artsy commissioned the coat personally from Topstitch. He wore it with pride, and I found myself wishing I had one like it. I can't even tell you what it is about it that I liked so much. I mean, it's just a gray coat. Maybe it was because Artsy liked it so much and I tried to emulate him as much as I could. Or maybe I just had a genuine affection for the way it looked. I'm not really sure. In any case, Artsy caught on to my desire for it, and one day he just gave the coat to me. Of course I declined, but he was as stubborn as… well, as stubborn as you."
Applejack playfully hit Sketch in the shoulder. "Yer no easier to deal with sometimes, ya know."
"I know, I know. But in this instance Artsy’s hardheadedness won out over mine. He told me that if it was something I truly wanted, something I truly had to have, then it must have been intended for me all along and that it would be a crime for him to hold onto it. I was overjoyed and grateful, but at the same time I was wracked with guilt. I knew how much he liked the coat, and I knew how much it had cost. So I resolved to pay him back for it somehow. I wasn’t sure how, but I was determined."
He took another deep breath and his voice dropped a little. "A week later he was traveling in a carriage through the mountains on a way to meet with a gallery owner. They were on a very narrow mountain pass when one of the carriage wheels hit a large rock and the axel snapped. The carriage toppled over the side of the mountain."
Applejack gasped. "Oh mah… Sketch, ah didn’t know…"
"It wasn't widely publicized. Artsy was really only known in art circles. But I was devastated. Not only was he my friend and mentor, he had also been a father figure to me. My own father had practically disowned me, so after Artsy’s death I had nowhere else to go, and all I had left were my painting supplies and the coat he had given me. The coat that I was never able to repay him for."
There was a pause and Sketch continued, his eyes staring at the snow outside, but not seeing it. "I think… no, I’m sure that my need to find ways to pay people for their kindness is because I was never able to do that for Artsy. It’s a way to make up for it. But deep down I know I’ll never really be able to."
He stopped talking and slowly became aware that Applejack had pressed her head against his. He could feel tears soaking through his hair and onto his skin, warm and wet. It was the first time he had ever experienced Applejack crying. The two stayed that way, occasionally hearing the sound of the auctioneer’s voice and clapping far off in the palace.
Applejack gave an unladylike sniffle and said, "Ah think we need a happy story now."
Sketch laughed. "Well, how about I tell you about that painting?"
"Just so long as the story doesn’t have anypony dyin’."
"Not at all," he assured her. "The one time my parents brought me to Canterlot, the time that I met Artsy in fact, Princess Celestia took part in a parade. I don’t remember what the event was, but I remember how badly I wanted to get a glimpse of her. Unfortunately, the crowd was so thick that we couldn’t get up to the front, and being as small as I was at the time I couldn’t see very well. So I begged my father to boost me up onto his back so I could see over everyone. The expression on his face! You'd have thought I’d asked him to roll around in the mud for my amusement. He relented after a full minute of begging, though. I was stubborn even back then. So he hoisted me up just in time for me to see the Princess walking by. I was elated – she was so elegant, so regal. So beautiful. It was an image that stuck in my head, an image that’s been with me since then. At one point I’d swear she even made eye contact with me and smiled. But I’m pretty sure it was just my overactive imagination."
"It wasn’t your imagination at all, Sketch."
Both Sketch and Applejack jerked their heads around, smacking into each other in a slapstick fashion. When they were able to gather their wits they turned to see Princess Celestia in the hallway with them, flanked by a guard on either side of her. Instinctively, the two bowed down.
"I remember that day, too," the Princess said with a faraway smile. "It was a parade to celebrate the opening of a new boutique, by the way. The things a princess has to do sometimes… Anyway, I remember as I was walking through the crowd there was a purple colt raised above everypony else. It was his eyes that I remember the most. They were sad eyes that experienced a moment of joy when I glanced his way. I always wondered if I would ever meet that pony."
Sketch was floored. The memory that he had carried around in his head for years was a memory that he shared with the princess of Equestria! When he found his voice, he said, "I’m… I'm glad we could finally meet, Your Highness."
"As am I. And I’m glad that I now have a painting to remember that moment by."
"You… you bought the painting?" It took every ounce of willpower Sketch had not to let his knees buckle.
"I did. And imagine my surprise when my loyal pupil, Twilight Sparkle, told me that it was her new friend who had painted it. Sometimes things are meant to be. It's a lovely painting and I will treasure it always."
"Thank you, Your Highness," Sketch breathed. He was pretty sure he hadn't blinked once during the entire exchange.
"You're most welcome. Well, I must get going. A princess’s work is never done, especially at a social function as big as this. Thank you for the lovely painting, Sketch."
"You’re welcome," Sketch answered in a voice thick with emotion.
They watched the princess walk back down the hallway trailed by her guards. "Ah don’t even know what to say," Applejack spoke up after a moment.
"I think this is one of those times where the less said, the better."
"Ah’ll buy that."
"Speaking of buying… how much do you think she paid for the painting?"
Applejack smirked. "I thought you didn’t want to know that."
"That was before the princess of Equestria bought it!"
The two made their way back down the hall and noticed that the music had grown louder. When they entered the ballroom they saw ponies dancing in graceful patterns. This is it, thought Sketch with a twinge in his stomach. He cleared his throat and turned to his companion. "Applejack, would you care to dance?"
"Oh, ah can’t dance," Applejack shook her head. "The last time ah tried ah learned ah got four left hooves. Besides, ah don't know any of these fancy-shmancy dances. Best ah can do is square dancin'. Thank you for asking, though, sugar cube."
Sketch’s heart plummeted right through the floor. He couldn’t believe how stupid he had been! He had been so preoccupied with learning how to dance that he never considered the possibility that Applejack wouldn’t know how. So much for making her feel special.
Depressed at the turn of events, he sighed and followed Applejack as they went in search of their friends. They found Rarity and Fluttershy first. Poor Fluttershy was overwhelmed by the crowd, and it was nice of Rarity to stick close by her. When Sketch got closer, Rarity smiled at him and said, "I can’t believe you weren’t at the auction, darling! Princess Celestia bought your painting for-"
"I don’t want to know!" Sketch cried, sitting back on his haunches and covering his ears with his hooves, prompting a few nearby ponies to give him frowning glances. Applejack just shook her head and smirked. "Sorry," Sketch said. "I… I’m not comfortable with knowing what it went for. But I know the princess bought it. Did your dress fetch a good price?"
"Oh my, yes! It sold for…" she paused, studying Sketch, and then said, "For more than I expected. And Topstitch bought it for his sister!" She followed that up with a squeal more fit for Pinkie Pie, and once she realized it she cleared her throat and said, "Excuse me."
"Hey folks," Twilight Sparkle said, appearing from the crowd. "Everypony having fun?" They all nodded. Rarity caught Applejack’s attention and started asking her a question, so Twilight took the opportunity to sidle up to Sketch and whisper, "How come you aren’t out there dancing?"
"Because Applejack doesn’t know how to dance," Sketch responded in a glum tone.
It took a moment for that to register with Twilight and then her face fell. "Oh Sketch, I’m sorry! I can’t believe neither one of us thought of that!" Sketch just shrugged. They listened to the other ponies converse for a bit before Twilight said, "Well, we might as well put those lessons to good use. What do you say?"
Remembering Applejack’s confession from earlier, Sketch started to say, "I’m not so sure-"
"Oh, come on, it'll be fun. Let’s see if we get it right." With that Twilight pushed Sketch out onto the dance floor. Put on the spot, Sketch just sighed and began going through the motions as he had learned them. After a while, he was enjoying himself thoroughly, and the two laughed loudly when the other would forget a step or a movement. The more serious ponies around them obviously did not approve of such joviality and would fix them with glares, but they continued on unashamedly.
Nearly ten minutes later Sketch and Twilight returned to the group to find that Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie had caught up with them, but Applejack had disappeared. With a twisted stomach, Sketch asked where she had gone off to. "She said she needed some fresh air," Rainbow Dash replied, then continued on about the signed Wonderbolts poster she had almost won at the auction.
Applejack didn’t return until the group was nearly ready to leave. When asked, she replied that she hadn’t been feeling good. "Too much excitement, ah reckon," she said. "Ah’ll feel better after some sleep." It was painfully obvious to Sketch that she was unhappy, and she wouldn’t make eye contact with him nor stand too close to him.
The carriage ride home was torture. The other ponies laughed and talked while Applejack stared out the window and Sketch stared at her from the opposite seat. How could he fix this? What exactly was he fixing? Things had gone beyond mere jealousy, he could see that now. He would be the first to admit he wasn’t the brightest pony, but he was observant. It just wasn’t clear to him exactly what he was observing.
The stallions pulling the carriage agreed, at Twilight’s request, to take Applejack and Sketch back to Sweet Apple Acres, being under the impression that Applejack wasn’t feeling well. The ride was made in complete stillness, the only noises coming from the carriage as it rolled over the snow-covered road. Applejack still wouldn’t look at Sketch and he joined her in staring out the window until they reached the farm.
Once the carriage dropped them off and left, Applejack began walking towards the door, and Sketch couldn’t stand it any longer. "Applejack, what is going on?"
She stopped but didn’t turn around. "Ah wasn't aware that spendin’ the entire evening with me somehow included dancin’ with Twilight."
"It was only ten minutes! And I didn’t even want to dance with her, she forced me out there!"
"Did she force ya to paint her portrait, too?" The pony turned around, her green eyes as hard and as cold as the emerald in her pendant.
"What? No! Is that what this is about? Me painting her portrait?"
"Not just her, Sketch, but everypony else!"
"Not everypony else! I never did one of Rainbow Dash!"
"No, but you sketched her."
"How did you…she told…? Well I… I didn’t paint or sketch Pinkie Pie!"
Applejack snorted. "She don't count. You couldn’t get her to sit still long enough. Anyway, you also didn’t paint 'r sketch me. But that’s not what this is about."
"Then what is it about? I need you to tell me, Applejack! If I can count on anypony to be completely honest with me it’s you!"
The orange pony opened her mouth and then shut it. Her eyes wavered as moisture filled them. Again her mouth opened and she managed to say, "Ah… ah…" Then she clamped her mouth shut again and galloped into the farmhouse, slamming the door behind her.
"You what?" Sketch called after her, but was too late.
"She’s in love with you, ya big ninny!" Apple Bloom shouted, appearing from behind some snow-covered bushes.
"Apple Bloom? Were you spying on… wait, she what?!"
"She’s in love with you," the filly repeated, approaching Sketch with a frustrated look on her face. "Ah can’t believe you didn’t know."
"But I… she… we…" Sketch was at a loss, the weight of the statement crashing down on him like a rockslide. "She’s in love me?"
"Ain’t you in love with her? Ya sure act like it often enough."
"I do? I… I don’t know. I don't know if I am."
Apple Bloom blinked a few times before her expression softened. "You better figure it out, big bro. She ain’t gonna wait forever." With that, the filly went into the farmhouse, leaving Sketch standing in the cold. A light snow started falling around him at that moment, covering him with a thin layer that he didn't feel at all.
"Am I in love with her?" he whispered, his breath turning into steam and disappearing into the quiet night.
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Chapter Twelve: In Which Things Fall Into Place
Sketch didn’t get any sleep that night. He tossed and turned, his brain refusing to let go of the statement, "She’s in love with you!" His stomach twisted and ached; it was a worse feeling than when he had been going without food for long stretches. Normally he would take the time to go out into his studio to paint, to use the emotions in a creative way, but they were too strong and kept him rooted firmly in bed, unable to fall asleep.
Finally, when the sun broke the horizon line, Sketch forced himself to throw his coat on and he left the farm house. Everypony else was still sleeping, but would be up shortly. He didn’t want to be around. He had some thinking to do.
When he arrived in Ponyville, he realized that he hadn’t actually done any thinking on the walk there, but his head felt clearer. The walk had helped to use up the nervous energy and he had been able to let his mind rest a bit. But he still couldn’t force himself to think about the situation easily. He needed someone to talk to. Should he wake up Twilight Sparkle? No, she had been out as late as everypony else and he'd feel terrible about waking her up to dump his problems on her. But who else could he go to?
The smoke from Sugarcube Corner’s chimney caught his attention. The Cakes were always up early, gearing up to meet the morning customers with fresh goodies. And, Sketch realized, they would be the perfect ponies to talk to.
The warmth of the bakery wrapped around him like a sweet-smelling blanket when he entered, and Mrs. Cake looked up from the counter and smiled. "Good morning, Sketch! I haven’t seen you in here in a while! How are you?"
"Good morning, Mrs. Cake. I’m… I’ve been better."
"Oh dear, I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can get for you to make you feel better?"
"No, thank you. But… would you mind if I asked you a sort of personal question?"
"Oh," the mare said, taken aback. "I suppose so."
"You and Mr. Cake seem very happy together. I was wondering… how… how do you know when you’re in love?"
The question caught Mrs. Cake even further off guard and she took a moment to think about it. "Well, I’m sure it’s different for everypony, so I can only speak from experience. But I guess it’s… it's when you feel your heart race at the sight of that special pony. When you realize that you want to spend lots of time with that pony. And when you find yourself attracted to everything about that pony, flaws and all. That's how I knew I was in love with Carrot."
Sketch thought about the mare’s words for a moment and nodded. "Thank you, Mrs. Cake. And you know what? I’ll take a dozen doughnuts."
As Sketch left the bakery with the doughnut box dangling from his mouth, he pondered Mrs. Cake’s words more deeply.
I guess it’s when you feel your heart race at the sight of that special pony.
Sketch remembered the feeling he got when Applejack had appeared at Fluttershy’s cottage while he was being nursed back to health. He had been happy, elated even, despite how ashamed he had felt at receiving the orange pony’s admonishments.
When you realize that you want to spend lots of time with that pony.
He recalled the moment in the farmhouse kitchen when Applejack had asked him if he wanted to stay on the farm, and how logic had told him to say no. But his emotions had been stronger, and he had known in that moment that he wanted to be as close to Applejack as he could, and for as long as he could.
And when you find yourself attracted to everything about that pony, flaws and all.
The memory of walking with Applejack to the barn the night of his welcome party surfaced, and he remembered studying Applejack, burning the sight of her into his mind, dust, dirt, and everything. And he remembered the words he had said to her - Anything and anypony is worth painting. The trick is to capture the beauty of the subject within the canvas. Dirt and all.
Sketch stopped and dropped the box as his mouth went slack. The lightning bolt of realization had struck him twice in succession. He had finally resolved a long-standing problem that he had been dealing with. But more importantly, he realized at that moment something that he should have known all along.
He was in love with Applejack.
***
That afternoon Applejack was fixing one of the hinges on a cabinet door in the kitchen when Sketch found her. He stood by, watching her for a moment, before gathering the courage to open his mouth. "Applejack?" The pony didn’t respond. "Applejack, I need to talk to you."
"Ah’m a bit busy, Sketch," the pony muttered brusquely.
"I know, but I wouldn’t bother you unless it was important. Please."
Applejack set down her tools and looked over at Sketch, eyeing him with an impossible-to-read expression on her face. "All right. What is it?"
"Would you follow me out to my studio first? I have to show you something before I start talking."
Applejack heaved a sigh and stood up, stretching. "Let’s go."
The two walked, in that uncomfortable silence that Sketch hoped would disappear forever after he was done telling Applejack what he intended to. The inside of the barn wasn’t as cold as the air outside was, and the walk up the stairs warmed the two ponies up a tad. When they reached the landing, Applejack said, "All right, now what did you…" she trailed off, her eyes growing wide. Lined up on the worktable were six different paintings, each one a portrait of Applejack. "You didn’t… you didn’t do these last night, did you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No," Sketch shook his head. "In fact, the one all the way to the left there, I did that one only a week or so after I joined you ponies here on the farm." The painting in question was Applejack in a static pose, her head turned at a three-quarter view, looking at something beyond the canvas.
"So you… you did paint me? But you never… ah mean, you had to sit with Twilight and Fluttershy to do their portraits!"
Sketch nodded. "But I didn’t need you in front of me to do yours. I know you by heart, Applejack. I can close my eyes and see you from head to hoof, every inch of you. Only… only I could never get the painting quite right. Each one of those, to me, is a failure. Just like the portraits I did for Twilight and Fluttershy. Something about all of them kept nagging at me, kept bothering me. Until today."
He turned around the easel that had been facing the wall and Applejack gasped. The painting on the easel was another portrait, but this one was different. There was nothing special about the content – it was another static pose of Applejack standing next to an apple tree – but Sketch could see in Applejack’s eyes that she sensed something was different about it.
"I said something to you long ago that I never fully took to heart. I said that anything and anypony is worth painting, but that the trick is to capture the beauty of the subject within the canvas, dirt and all. That’s where I was making the mistake. With Twilight and Fluttershy and those six portraits of you I was trying to make them perfect. I didn’t paint Twilight’s left ear the way it is, just a bit shorter than her right. I didn’t paint the way the feathers on Fluttershy’s right wing are thinner than the ones on her left side. And I painted you too clean, too perfect. In trying to make the paintings perfect, I was preventing myself from getting them just right. The trick is to paint something as it is, flaws and all, and convince the viewer that it’s beautiful." He paused and looked from the painting back at Applejack. "Like I said, I know every inch of you. I know your physical flaws, from the near-permanent dirt stains around your hooves to the light blemish on your back right leg. And I know your quirks; how you’re stubborn and sometimes quick to temper. I know all these things and I find them beautiful. I find you beautiful."
"Sketch, ah-"
"Please, I need to finish. At first I thought I had just found a muse, a source of inspiration. And I did. As soon as I met you all I wanted to do was to paint, to channel the inspiration you gave me and create something as beautiful as you. But now I know that you're more than just a muse to me.
"I love you, Applejack."
The orange pony, who had tears in her eyes, tears different from the ones the night before, stood and stared at Sketch. Finally, unsure of what possessed him, Sketch moved forward until he was a hair’s breadth away from Applejack, and he kissed her. It was a quick kiss, a peck on the lips that was followed by a longer and firmer one. When they paused to take a breath, Applejack whispered, "Ah love you too, Sketch."
A squeal of delight came from the direction of the stairs and the two ponies turned around fast enough to catch Apple Bloom’s ribbon disappearing down the stairs.
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Chapter Thirteen: In Which a Difficult Decision Must Be Made
The main course was almost ready. Sketch was just about to pull it out of the oven when Applejack appeared next to him, nuzzling his neck. She had been finding every opportunity to do that, and he certainly didn't mind.
"You just about done, sugar cube? The chickens'r gettin' restless," she asked, brushing up against him.
"By 'chickens' do you mean Pinkie Pie?"
"How'd you guess?"
"I can hear her whining all the way from the living room. Just have to let it cool a bit," he answered, and gave Applejack a peck on the ear.
"Ugh, could you two stop being all lovey-dovey for two seconds?" Rainbow Dash was standing in the doorway with a sick look on her face.
"Ya don't like it, ya don't need t'be out here with us," Applejack said and blew a raspberry at the pegasus.
"Trust me, I'll be gone before you can get any grosser. I just wanted to say that somepony's at the door looking for Sketch. Says his name's Avant-Garde"
"Avant-Garde?" Sketch repeated the name, trying to remember where he had heard it before. "Uh, all right, let me finish up here and I'll be right out to talk to him."
"Who is it?" Applejack asked after Rainbow Dash left the kitchen.
"Not sure. The name sounds familiar, though." Sketch pulled the casserole from the oven and set it on top of the counter. "Should only need about ten minutes to cool. Hopefully whatever this Avant-Garde wants will be quick."
He made his way through the living room, where Pinkie Pie was dramatically "dying" from hunger, flat on her back with her legs sticking up in the air. When Sketch reached the front hall he found a golden-haired stallion with a short orange mane flipped over in a stylish manner. "Mr. Sketch?" the stallion asked, looking overtop a pair of rectangular glasses.
"Uh, yes. Just Sketch is fine."
"I'm Avant-Garde, the owner of the Canterlot Cutting Edge Art Gallery."
Sketch's eyes went wide and he felt his jaw drop. "You… you're the one that Artsy was on his way to see when he…"
"Yes," Avant-Garde nodded sadly. "Artsy was a fine pony, both personally and professionally. The loss of him was nothing short of devastating to the art community."
"So… why are you here? " Sketch asked without thinking, and then shook his head. "I'm sorry, please come in."
He led Avant-Garde into the living room, where the conversation quieted until all that was left was Pinkie Pie's dramatic groaning. That lasted until Rainbow Dash kicked her lightly and she squeaked, jumping to her feet and catching sight of Avant-Garde. "Oh, hello! Are you gonna eat with us?"
"We're, uh, having a dinner party," Sketch explained.
"I'm terribly sorry to interrupt," Avant-Garde said, nodding in the direction of each of the ponies. "I'll try to make this as quick as possible." He turned back to Sketch. "When Artsy was on his way to see me, it was to discuss a business opportunity. Unfortunately, because of his sudden passing away, that opportunity never happened, and subsequently the position has not been filled just yet. I had the opportunity to be at the Midwinter Ball in Canterlot a few weeks ago and I was enamored with the painting that Princess Celestia had acquired at the auction. I was finally able to contact her and inquire as to the artist and his whereabouts, and Her Highness directed me to you."
"Woo-hoo, you're famous, Sketch!" Pinkie Pie cried out. Sketch could only blush.
"I did a little poking around," Avant-Garde continued, "And found out that you were actually Artsy Brushstroke's protégé. A friend of mine had attended your gallery showing here in Ponyville and purchased one of your paintings, and mentioned that he spoke to you."
Sketch recalled the brown-haired pony to whom Twilight had told of Sketch's connection to Artsy. "Wow," he breathed. "Small world."
"Indeed," Avant-Garde said with a smile. "Anyway, the reason I'm here is that I want to offer you the opportunity that Artsy Brushstroke was not able to take. I want you to be a resident artist at my gallery."
The room fell silent, except for Pinkie Pie who was humming a song to herself until Rainbow Dash gave her another kick. After taking a moment to let the art gallery owner's words sink in, Sketch asked, "What… what exactly does that entail?"
"Well, it means you would take up residence at the gallery. You would live, work, and exhibit your art exclusively there. The gallery sees thousands of ponies a year from all over Equestria, and your work would be guaranteed to get major exposure."
"I would… live there? In Canterlot?"
"Exactly. So what do you say?"
Sketch glanced over to Applejack, but her expression was impossible to read. He glanced at each one of the other ponies in the room, and each one had a look of apprehension on their faces, waiting to hear Sketch's response. "I… I need to think about this. It's a big decision."
"I understand completely. Unfortunately, I can only give you until tomorrow morning to make up your mind. I'm taking a train to Manehattan to meet with another artist. Should you decline, I will be offering her the resident artist position. But I hope I will be telling her that the position has been filled. I think we could have a very good working relationship, Sketch. My train leaves at eight o'clock tomorrow." With that Avant-Garde nodded in the direction of the others and said, "Good evening to you all."
Once the door closed, Pinkie Pie said, "So can we eat yet, or what?"
***
The conversation at dinner was superficial. It was clear that everypony wanted to talk about Sketch's opportunity, but no one would bring it up. Sketch remained silent for the most part, saying "Thank you" whenever somepony complimented his cooking. He didn't eat much himself; he could only manage a few bites and then pushed the rest of the food around on his plate while mulling over the situation.
Finally, when they were eating dessert – a carrot cake with cream cheese frosting – Twilight spoke up. "Sketch, you have to take that job. It's what you've been working towards your whole life!"
"I'm inclined to agree with Twilight on this," Rarity added. "As one artist to another, opportunities like this don't happen everyday."
"And I wanna say that this carrot cake is amazing!" Pinkie Pie said with a coating of frosting on her upper lip.
Sketch didn't respond. What Twilight and Rarity had said rang true. He had worked hard for a long time and now this opportunity had come to him. But could he take it? Could he leave Ponyville, his friends, and… He looked at Applejack, who looked back at him and smiled. Again, her expression was impossible to read. He wanted her to say something, anything, but she kept quiet.
With a sigh, he finally said, "I need more time to think about it." He added with a small smile, "In the meantime, eat up some more cake before Pinkie devours it all." Thankfully, that broke the tension and everyone helped themselves to a second slice.
***
After everypony had left, Sketch and Applejack cleaned off the table and started doing the dishes. Unable to stand not hearing Applejack's opinion, he confronted her on it. "Applejack, what do you think I should do?"
She finished rinsing off a place before she spoke. "Ah think you need to do what's gonna make you happy, sugar cube." She must have noticed the look on Sketch's face at that because she shook her head and said, "Ah know ya want me to give you somethin' more than that, Sketch, but it wouldn't be right. Ah don't wanna sway you one way 'r the other. This is too important. It's a decision you have to make on yer own."
"I hate it when you're right," Sketch responded in a quiet voice.
Applejack leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "You better get used to it 'cause ah'm always right." Sketch chuckled at that and went back to drying the dishes.
After a few minutes he said, "What if… what if you came with me?"
"Ah can't do that, Sketch," Applejack shook her head. "The family needs me. This here farm would fall apart if ah left. Besides, Canterlot ain't no place for a pony like me."
So there it was. Sketch was left with the odious task of choosing between his dreams and the one he loved. And he needed to make the decision in less than ten hours.
***
All around him sat his paintings, the work that Sketch had poured himself into throughout the months he had spent in Ponyville. He had hoped that being near them would help him make his decision, but he was no closer to closing the book on that than he was before trekking up to his studio. The anxiousness that he was feeling had grown tenfold since the offer had been made to him, and he was beginning to feel physically ill from the stress.
On the one hoof he could live an artist's dream. He had worked hard over the years to achieve a place in the artistic community, and now he was being offered the opportunity to live and work in that community. He would get paid for doing what he loved and receive recognition for it. It would even serve as a tribute to Artsy Brushstroke, the one who had helped him get there.
On the other hoof, however, was the happiness he felt in the life he was currently living. He had a home and he had friends. He had a family that, while not tied to him by blood, was closer to him than his real family had ever been. More than that, though, was that he had found love.
A loud clanging from down in the barn startled Sketch from his tense reverie. Curious, he climbed down the steps and saw Big Macintosh putting away some tools. Grateful for a bit of distraction, Sketch said, "Burning the midnight oil?"
He received the typical, "Eeyup."
A thought struck Sketch and he approached the large red pony. "Hey, uh, could you spare a minute or two, Big Mac?"
"Eeyup."
"My mentor used to tell me that those who say little usually have the most important things to say. I was hoping you might help me make a decision. I was presented with an opportunity today, but I don't know if I should take it or decline it. How would you go about making an important decision?"
Big Mac sat back on his haunches and rubbed the underside of his chin. With a faraway look in his eyes, he spoke. "The way ah've always seen it, there are two different types of opportunities. The first are the ones we work towards, the ones we spend years of hard work and dedication towards achieving. The second are the ones that happen purely by random chance. The difference between the two is that if ya miss the first type of opportunity, you can always keep on workin' and another one'll appear. But ya don't have that guarantee with the second kind of opportunity."
Sketch reeled, first by the fact that the pony had spoken so much, and second by the power of his words. "Wow… thank you, Big Mac."
"Eeyup." With that the red pony walked out of the barn, leaving Sketch to ponder the farm pony's speech.
***
The door to the barn creaked open, letting in the morning sunlight and a burst of cool air. Sketch turned, huffing and puffing, to see Applejack standing there with a confused look on her face. "Sketch, what in tarnation are ya doin' out here?"
"Well," Sketch answered once he caught his breath. "You once said I was far from being the best applebucker you ever saw. That means I have a lot of practice ahead of me if I ever want to be the best."
"Practice? What in Equestria are you…" she paused. "Yer not takin' Avant-Garde's offer?"
Sketch shook his head, sitting back on his haunches. "I met him at the train station this morning and told him that I had a better opportunity here on the farm."
Applejack gave him an incredulous look. "As an applebucker?"
"No, as a pony with friends. And a pony in love."
"Sketch, you… ah mean, ah hope ya didn't…"
"It was my decision, Applejack."
"But what about yer art?"
Sketch shrugged. "I can still paint and I can still do gallery showings. But I don't want to tie myself down anywhere but here." He stood up and made his way over to the bewildered orange pony. "And I don't want to tie myself down to anyone but you."
There was a moment of hesitation before Applejack's eyes became wet and she smiled. She kissed Sketch and then nuzzled his cheek. "Ah'd never have said it before you made yer decision, but I didn't want you to go, sugar cube."
"They're in here!" a familiar voice shouted. "And they're being all gross again!"
"Oh fer cryin' out loud, Rainbow Dash, grow up," Applejack said and rolled her eyes.
The whole group came trotting into the barn, all talking at once. Sketch calmed them all down with a gesture of his hoof until all they could hear was Pinkie Pie singing a nonsense song. When she realized they were all looking at her she said, "Oops, sorry!"
"I've decided I'm staying," Sketch said simply.
"But darling," Rarity spoke first, "Your artwork! You're giving up a huge opportunity to share it with the world!"
"Yeah, Sketch, and you're missing out on something you've always wanted!" Twilight added.
"But I've already gained something I've always wanted," Sketch countered, drawing puzzled looks. "I've gained friends. Each one of you has become a part of my life that I couldn't bear to let go of. Sure, maybe I'd have made some friends there in the gallery, but… well, I'll be honest. A lot of those artists and collectors are pretty fake."
"He has a point," Rarity nodded.
"And I remembered something that Artsy had told me once. He said that a cutie mark doesn't define a pony; it gives him character, and what he does with that character is what defines him."
There was a hush and then Pinkie Pie spoke up. "Well, I guess that means there isn't going to be a farewell party. It's going to be a 'staying here' party!" They all laughed and Sketch was glad that the tension was gone.
"All right, ah'm gonna have to ask y'all to skedaddle," Applejack said. "Sketch here has decided he wants to train to be the best applebucker around, so ah'm gonna have to get to trainin' him right away."
"You're a brave pony, Sketch," Rainbow Dash said and the all laughed again. With that each pony hugged Sketch before they left, saying how glad they were that he was staying.
Before Twilight left she said, "You still need to stop over so we can finish our discussion on the Renaissance era." Sketch risked a glance at Applejack, and she smiled at him and nodded.
"Sure thing," he responded and hugged her.
Once the door to the barn closed, Sketch turned to Applejack. "Well," she said, "Let's get to it."
"Wait, you were serious?" Sketch raised an eyebrow.
"Of course ah was. Ah don't kid around when it comes to applebuckin'."
"I thought maybe you… that we… hoo boy, what have I gotten myself into?"
Applejack grinned and kissed Sketch on the cheek. "Ah'll tell you what – you give me a good mornin' worth of trainin', and ah'll give you a good afternoon worth of, as Rainbow Dash calls it, 'bein' lovey-dovey'."
"I'll see what I can do," Sketch returned the grin.
"Now, from what ah saw when ah came in earlier, you're leanin' a little too far forward before the kick." She started showing Sketch how to correct his mistake, and even though Sketch was paying close attention, he couldn't stop thinking about how truly happy he was for the first time in his life.
The End
