Keeping It Simple

Chapters

2. A Kind and Forceful Roar
3. In the Right Light
4. Numbskulls
5. Knowing and Doing
6. Please Smile
7. Spa Day
8. The Squall
9. Used Up
11. Family Recipes
12. Far From Reach
13. Friends in High Places
15. The Flu
16. The Cellist and the One String Cello
17. Apple Family Histories
18. No Need for Goodbyes
19. City Slicker
20. Splitting the Difference
1. Dealing Stud
10. Falling Down
14. A Day in the Life

2. A Kind and Forceful Roar

A Kind and Forceful Roar

Habit forced Big Macintosh to wake before sun-up. Usually he would use this time to get a head start on his chores. However, his current status as an invalid meant this time became spent on cooking breakfast for the family. Or rather, helping the only member of the Apple family that woke up earlier than him cook breakfast.

So as he climbed down the steps with his saddlebag he wasn’t surprised to find Granny Smith already in the kitchen heating up a pat of butter on the cast iron skillet. He was surprised, however, to see a bowl of apple cinnamon batter already on the table. With his usual job of preparing the batter already done, he could only sigh as his relative uselessness became clear once again. He couldn’t even grab a ladle and spatula for her since the utensils were already well within her reach on the countertop.

“Oh now don’t fret, dear,” Granny Smith said. She clenched the ladle between her few remaining teeth to pour a few circles of batter onto the hot pan. Placing the ladle back into the bowl she spoke again, “I just figured you’d be sleepin’ in after staying up so late last night.”

Big Mac remained silent as he watched Granny pour and flip griddlecakes. Finally, he thought of something to do and began setting the table. But it only provided a moment’s distraction and soon the feelings of boredom encroached upon him yet again.

“Did I ever tell ya how I met your grandfather over a game of poker?” Granny asked.

He rolled his eyes. The story of his grandparents’ fated meeting always seemed to change every time Granny told it. That in itself wouldn’t be much of a concern, but strangely enough the circumstances always matched what Big Mac was experiencing at the time. Like the time Granny said she met her husband when he stumbled upon a family reunion, or when she said she met him when he and her brother were butting heads in a competition of strength and endurance.

“Ah’m just gonna grab an apple for breakfast, Granny,” he said as he walked out the door. The last thing he wanted to hear was yet another story that may or may not be true.

By the time he left the barn with an apple in his mouth the sun was just rising above the horizon. He quickly ate his breakfast before making his way into Ponyville to return the books he borrowed last week.

Going into town so early in the morning gave the work pony a comfort that he was not often able to indulge himself in. Most ponies were still sleeping soundly in their beds and those that were up were usually too busy working or doing errands to pay much attention to him. The relative emptiness of the town allowed him to truly admire the buildings in the light of the morning sun.

When he reached the library he found its interior lit up despite the early hour. Originally he had planned to admire the city a bit more until the library officially opened, but if Twilight Sparkle was already up then perhaps she wouldn’t mind him returning her books so early.

Remembering the librarian pony’s words he knocked gently on the door. Several seconds passed before the unicorn opened it. This time it was Big Macintosh who was taken aback by her appearance. Her mane looked a mess and her eyes were half-lidded with bags under them. Her whole body slumped with fatigue, but to her credit she managed to stand up straighter when she saw him looking at her.

“Ah’m sorry Miss Sparkle, Ah didn’t mean ta wake ya. Ah just saw the lights on and thought ya rose early.” Big Macintosh quickly said, regretting his mistake.

She looked confused for a moment until it seemed that something in her mind clicked, “Oh. No, you didn’t wake me up. I’ve just been up all night trying to figure something out.” She smiled, though the lack of sleep made it a bit crooked, “Please come in. I’m guessing you’re here to return those books, right?”

“Eeyup,” he said as he entered. He grabbed the books from his saddlebag and placed them on her desk. He couldn’t help but notice the mess of crumpled papers that littered its surface, not to mention the various books opened and strewn about.

“If ya don’t mind my asking, what exactly were ya tryin’ ta figure?”

Everyone, including Big Mac, knew the purple unicorn’s knack for knowledge. If she was struggling to solve something then the problem must have been great indeed.

“Zeno’s Paradoxes, I was trying to solve one of them logically and without the use of calculus.” There really was nothing in that sentence that Big Macintosh understood, at least not entirely. He knew calculus was one of those higher forms of mathematics much beyond his usual repertoire of balancing the farm’s budget.

An awkward silence filled the room until Twilight moved towards a set of bookshelves, “You see calculus is-”

“Ah know what calculus is, Miss Sparkle. Just not how ta do it.”

“Oh.” She stopped before walking to another set of shelves, “Well, Zeno’s Paradoxes are sort of like brainteasers. He made them hundreds of years ago to support a philosopher pony by the name of Parmenides and his assertions that change and motion are nothing but illusions. He’s known for his famous saying…” Big Macintosh tried to pay attention, he really did, but once she began talking of the different schools of philosophy his thoughts began to wander. He couldn’t help but think that Parmenides and Zeno sure were strange names for ponies, but he supposed that’s how names were back then.

“So anyway,” an hour later a book glowing with magic opened in front of his face and brought his mind back to the here and now. On the page was a black and white illustration of a pegasus in midflight between two clouds, “The paradox I was trying to solve was the dichotomy paradox. Zeno poses the situation of a pegasus flying from one cloud to another. In order for her to reach her destination she has to reach the halfway point between the two clouds. But before she can reach the halfway point she needs to reach the halfway point between the first halfway point and her starting point. But before she reaches that halfway point she needs to reach the halfway point between the second halfway point and her starting point. But before she reaches that point she needs to-“

“Miss Sparkle.” He needed to interrupt her lest she go on for another hour.

“Sorry. The gist of it is that there are an infinite number of points that have to be traversed before a destination can be reached. And because it is physically impossible to cross the infinite, motion itself must be impossible.”

Big Mac thought for a moment before taking a few steps towards Twilight.

“Very clever,” she chuckled, “but I’m trying to solve it with logic.” She tried to stifle a yawn but failed miserably.

“Results beat logic ev’rytime, Miss Sparkle,” he said while taking note of her yawn. “You feelin’ up to carin’ for the library after stayin’ up all night?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t mind a nap. But I open in a few minutes so…” she trailed off and shrugged, “it shouldn’t be too bad. It doesn’t get very busy in here.”

He nodded though a part of him worried that if he hadn’t intruded so early then perhaps she would have gotten some rest before opening the library.

“Say Miss Sparkle, if ya don’t mind Ah could take the reigns here while ya rest for a bit,” he said. He admitted to himself that his motivation for helping her lied mostly in curing his incessant boredom. And if he happened to help the purple mare, well, that would be a happy side effect.

“You’d do that? Well, I appreciate you offering but Spike can handle things here if I need to get some rest.” She yawned and Big Mac could see just how much effort she was putting in keeping her eyes open.

“Miss Sparkle Ah-“

Big Macintosh was interrupted by the sound of the library’s door opening and the yellow pegasus coming through it. She came in casually enough, but once her teal eyes saw the red stallion standing near the entrance she seemed to shrink behind her pink mane and crouched closer to the ground as if wishing to vanish into the floor.

“Hey Fluttershy,” Twilight said as she stepped closer to the nervous mare, “you know Big Macintosh. Big Macintosh this is Fluttershy.” Despite the introduction Fluttershy stayed in place. Twilight looked over at Big Mac and subtly tilted her head to the pegasus.

Taking her signal, Big Mac took a step forward only for Fluttershy to take a step back. Big Mac ignored her obvious anxiety and spoke, “It’s a pleasure ta finally meetcha Miss Shy, Applebloom’s told me so much about ya. She’s quite fond of ya.” It was true. If Applebloom wasn’t talking about her latest attempt at obtaining her cutie mark, she was talking about what amazing thing Fluttershy had done. Still, as he looked at the cowering pegasus he couldn’t help but wonder if Applebloom might have been exaggerating a bit.

Mentioning his sister seemed to make her feel more comfortable. She stood up straighter even though she still kept looking at the ground instead of directly at him. With a little nudge from Twilight the yellow mare took a step towards him, a small one, but a step nonetheless.

“H-hello,” she said. Even through the silence of the library in the early morning Big Mac had to strain his ears to hear her.

“So Fluttershy, do you need anything?” Twilight stepped in to intercept the awkward silence that was growing between them.

“Oh…um,” she turned to face her friend and her voice became a bit louder, “I was hoping you could…um, come with me to gather some herbs and plants from the Everfree Forest, if that’s okay with you.”

“I’d love to Fluttershy but I don’t think I’d be much use sleep-deprived as I am. Isn’t there someone else willing to go with you?” Twilight asked with a yawn.

“I’m sorry but Rainbow Dash is working until the afternoon and Applejack and Rarity are too, and Pinkie Pie’s planning a party for…well you know.” For the first time she looked directly at Big Mac, though once she realized that her gaze was more than obvious she quickly turned away with a blush.

“Well how about we wait until the afternoon and we can all go together?”

“Oh, I’m sorry but I need to gather them as soon as possible. They’re for a sick bird I’m nursing.”

All of a sudden Pinkie Pie’s words started playing at the back of Big Mac's mind. He quickly looked around the library for any sign of the pink pony. He found none, and so with a mental sigh stepped forward, “If Ah may interrupt,” he said, “Ah’d be more than happy to help ya, Miss Shy.”

Even though Big Mac had spoken directly at her, Fluttershy was absolutely incapable of looking at him face-to-face. Instead she preferred to gaze at the ground with her face obstructed by her pink mane. She kept this position as she spoke, “Oh I wouldn’t want to be a bother. Especially to someone I…don’t really know.”

“Never ya mind, any friend of my sister is a friend of mine,” he said with a small smile, hoping to put her at ease.

“I…I don’t know,” Fluttershy whispered. It seemed to be as loud as her voice got around him.

“Come on Fluttershy, he’s offering his time and assistance. It’d be rude to decline,” Twilight said, and Big Mac made a note to thank her sometime soon.

“I-I guess it would be okay. Um,” for the first time she consciously looked at him, or at least, in his general direction, “would it be okay if we left right now?”

Big Mac only nodded, sure that any verbalization would simply make her more uncomfortable. They said goodbye to Twilight Sparkle before leaving the library and walking toward the Everfree Forest.

The two walked side by side in complete silence, not even so much as looking at each other. The last thing he wanted was to force conversation on the only pony that was as silent as he was, if even more so. Instead he focused more on his thoughts and their ultimate destination.

Like most ponies in Ponyville, Big Macintosh was always wary of the Everfree Forest. But truth be told once Applejack started telling him of her adventures within those woods his willingness to go in only grew. He wasn’t about to let himself be outdone by his little sister, after all.

Still, saying that and actually doing it were two different beasts altogether. He didn’t like the forest and he had a feeling that it didn’t much care for him either. And that fact never became clearer than when they stood at the very edge of the forest. Big Macintosh hesitated at the tree line, but only for the time it took to see Fluttershy continue forward with less reluctance. Steeling himself and swallowing his fear he continued forward and caught up to the yellow pegasus.

Despite the brightness of the day the Everfree Forest seemed to reject most of the sunlight beaming down on it, more than could be explained by the shadows cast by the trees. Without really meaning to, Big Mac started walking a bit closer to Fluttershy. He told himself it was only to better protect her.

Fluttershy didn’t seem to mind the red colt being so close, quite the opposite as Big Mac felt her press against him as well. “Um so,” she began in her usual quiet manner, “I need three different plants. Um, Damselfly Wings, Red Madams, and Silver Hair.”

Big Macintosh nodded, happy that she was actually talking to him. “Do ya know where ta find ‘em? An' are ya sure those are all even plants?”

“Oh yes, they’re very abundant here. There’s some Silver Hair right there.” She gestured towards a nearby bush with small tufts of gray flowers that really did look like hair. Big Macintosh, ever the gentlecolt, went up to pick a few. He stuck his nose into the bush but a sudden hiss made him quickly step back, but not quick enough. In a lightning bolt of pain he suddenly found his muzzle clamped shut by the horrifyingly wide jaw of a snake as thick as one of his legs and three times as long. He could only let out a muffled shout of surprise through the serpent’s mouth, good thing too, otherwise he’d let out a sound quite unbecoming of a stallion.

Gripped by the overwhelming desire to get the snake off his only means of breathing, Big Mac thrashed his head back and forth and whipped the snake against the trees, the ground, and most anything he could find.

“Oh wait don’t do that,” Fluttershy said, though it was hard for Big Mac to hear her over the harsh thumps of the snake’s body slamming against the foliage.

“Please stop, you’ll hurt him.,” she said again, but still he ignored her.

“Big Mac, stop!” Her volume increased significantly and it was enough to freeze Big Mac where he stood.

Fluttershy trotted over to Big Mac and got on her hind legs to see the snake at a better angle while balancing herself against the draft pony, “There there now, I know your hungry but you’re wasting your time trying to eat a fully grown pony,” she said to the reptile. For a moment, Big Mac thought that she had gone insane. “So why don’t you just let go and look for something a bit smaller like an apple or carrot.”

Big Macintosh wondered if Fluttershy knew that snakes were carnivorous. But his thought was interrupted when he felt the snake’s grip loosen on his muzzle. If he thought it was possible for a snake to show any emotion he’d say that its slitted eyes softened before it released him. It fell to the ground with a soft thump and slithered away.

Big Mac rubbed his nose to find a bit of blood seeping out from a few of the tiny teeth marks. “Thanks,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” Fluttershy said, her voice down to its usual whisper. “But, uh, if you don’t mind me saying, that was a little, um…mean. You could have really hurt him.”

He was speechless, though not for long, “Miss Shy, when a snake takes my muzzle in its mouth Ah’m gonna do whatever it takes ta get it off.”

“You could have just asked it to let you go,” she said and once again her words rendered Big Macintosh without words for a few seconds.

“Ah…” his mind started whirring for the right thing to say, “Ah can’t speak ta animals like you can. It ain’t my special talent.”

Fluttershy shook her head, “That doesn’t matter. Anypony can communicate with animals if they try. It’s how ponies can keep pets. It's just easier for me.”

Big Macintosh sighed, “How ‘bout we keep goin’?”

The two continued on even more silent than before, if it were even possible. This silence he couldn’t stand, the kind coming from unresolved tension rather than just awkward non-acquaintance.

The uncomfortable stiffness remained between them as they made their way deeper into the forest. Despite himself, Big Mac couldn’t help but be a little ticked at the forest for getting darker with every step he took. It was as if the Everfree Forest was purposefully trying to get him scared and in front of a pretty, albeit strange, mare. Finally, the two came across a cave hidden behind a few low hanging branches. A few vines crawled up the rock face and from the stalks bloomed a few red flowers with petals that curled within themselves.

“Red Madams?” Big Mac asked as he pointed to the vines. To his dismay, Fluttershy nodded.

“Right in front of that ominous lookin’ cave with who-knows-what inside?” he said it a bit more sarcastically than he meant to.

“I’m sorry but it would seem so,” she said, almost as if it was her fault the flowers grew there. Big Mac sighed and approached one of the vines and plucked a few of the blossoms growing from it. He waited for a moment to see how the forest would decide to mess with him this time.

When nothing happened he made his way back to the waiting mare as he placed the flowers into his saddlebag. A sigh of relief escaped him, “Well that went off without a hit-“ he stopped as a loud roar and a harsh, smelly breeze blowing from behind him interrupted his small victory.

He only sighed as he turned around to face the lumbering mass of brown fur trudging out of the cave. The bear didn’t look too happy, which was fine by Big Mac. Neither was he.

“Stay back, Miss Shy,” he said, standing firm against the beast. However, a tap on his shoulder made him look at the mare.

“Try talking to him,” she said and Big Mac decided right then and there that she really was crazy. He sighed and looked at the beast before deciding to give it a shot.

“You best be movin’ along now or there’s gonna be trouble.” It was the only thing that came to the stallion’s mind. Just as he expected, his words had no effect other than causing the bear to roar louder at the pair.

“That was too mean. You have to be kindler and gentler, like this.” She stepped forward and, to his amazement, the mare showed absolutely no fear. Even more strangely she showed absolutely no courage. If anything she seemed at ease, like an earth pony on solid ground.

“Aw did he scare you?” she cooed to the bear. She approached it and placed a gentle hoof on its head. The bear responded instantly with a low grumble of appreciation, closing its eyes in bliss. Big Mac, meanwhile, could only fall to his flank and stare with his jaw practically on the ground.

“It’s okay, we didn’t mean to intrude. We’ll be on our way.” She gave the bear a final pat on the head before walking back towards a dumbfounded Big Mac.

“Are…are you feeling alright?” Fluttershy asked him.

He quickly closed his mouth and stood up, “Ah’m fine Miss Shy. Why don’t we go along?” he said, hoping to walk off his embarrassment. The pegasus was kind enough to grant him that dignity, and once again the two were off in search of the last plant.

“So,” Big Macintosh said, hoping to strike up a conversation, “did ya…” he had to search for the right word, “handle the cockatrice by talkin’ ta it?”

“Oh, you know about that?” she said behind her pink mane. There was something in her tone that bothered Big Mac. It was her usual shyness, but now with a touch of surprise and…guilt? Suddenly something clicked in the work pony's mind. Applebloom never really told him personally what had happened with the cockatrice. In fact the only reason he had known at all was because he had overheard his sisters talking about it. When they didn’t know he was there.

“Wassit s’possed ta be a secret?” he asked her in all seriousness.

“Um, well…” Big Mac didn’t think it was possible for her voice to become quieter, but that’s exactly what it did, “I’m sorry, but Applejack thought it might be best if-“

“If nopony told me that my baby sister almost died?” He really tried not to raise his voice to the sensitive pegasus, but as he talked about the danger his sister was in his anger got the best of him. As it did, Fluttershy started cowering away from him.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” she squeaked out, her whole body trembling.

Big Mac sighed as he took in the sight of the timid mare, “No, Ah’m sorry Miss Shy. Yer the last pony Ah should be angry at after what ya did.” He mentally cursed himself for letting his temper get the better of him. Especially since he showed it to one of the few mares, hell the few ponies outside his family, that he wanted to get to know.

Fluttershy stopped shaking before taking a few steps towards him, “It’s okay, I mean, it was the least I could do. Anypony would have done the same.”

Big Mac shook his head, “No, Ah don’t think anypony would. Heck, Ah don’t think anypony could. Ah owe ya everythin’ Miss Shy, from the bottom of my heart Ah do.” He had to clear his throat and continue walking down the path before the moment could get any more sentimental. Fluttershy, however, wasn’t done yet.

“It’s sweet how much you care about them,” she said, catching up to walk side by side with him again.

“They’re my family,” he said simply, making sure to avoid her gaze. “Ah’m s’possed to protect ‘em, but lately…” he didn’t know why that last bit got away from him so easily. Maybe it was because Fluttershy had finally started to get comfortable enough to speak and he wanted to keep the conversation going, or maybe he just couldn’t burden these thoughts for much longer.

For whatever the reason, Fluttershy picked up the conversational slack almost immediately. “Lately?” she asked the colt.

He sighed. “Applejack’s been spending more time with ya and the rest of 'er friends. And that’s fine, a mare her age ought ta have friends. And Ah’m glad she has such good ones ta look out for her. Same with my baby sister. But Applebloom’s still a li’l filly and, as much as she hates ta admit it, she still needs ‘er brother and sister. And the one time Ah was s’possed ta be there for her Ah…” he stopped, he had too. In one quick motion he raised his hind leg and drove it straight into the trunk of a nearby tree. Fluttershy flinched as a loud crack echoed through the forest.

“Sorry,” he said quietly as he lowered his hoof and looked at the splintered wood behind him.

“It’s okay,” she matched his whisper. “But there wasn’t anything you could do. You didn’t know she would be in trouble. All you knew was that she was spending the night at my house with her friends.”

He nodded. It felt good to let these thoughts out in the middle of the forest where no one but Fluttershy could hear him, “If ‘thank ya’ were enough Miss Shy Ah’d say it over and over. But it ain’t.”

“I know the feeling,” she said. For the first time Big Mac actually saw her smile, earning her a confused glance from the red stallion. “Last week,” Fluttershy explained and it was enough for Big Mac to realize what she meant.

“Then we understand each other,” he said and Fluttershy nodded.

The two continued on in silence, but this time with a comfortable air about them. Big Macintosh walked a bit quicker now, lighter, with the same feeling he had last night when walking with Pinkie Pie. It felt good, much better than the feeling of pulling a plow and he liked pulling a plow.

But soon the feeling washed away as Big Mac noticed just how deep they were in the Everfree Forest. Any deeper and he was sure they’d be halfway to Manehatten. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before Fluttershy pointed out a patch of ferns growing in the shade of a tree. Each of their leaves were translucent which allowed the dark green veins to stand out. Big Mac grabbed a mouthful and pocketed it along with the other plants before taking a quick look around.

“Is everything alright?” Fluttershy asked.

Big Mac nodded, “Just waitin’ to see what’s gonna pop out this time.”

After a few seconds, and when nothing emerged to bite or jump at Big Macintosh, the two simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief and began walking back towards home. But before he even took three steps Big Mac heard a loud and low whimper just past the trees, freezing him solid. He looked at Fluttershy and she nodded to signal that she heard it too.

Big Mac wanted to run, dear Celestia he wanted to run. But Fluttershy, whether from bravery, curiosity, or a third less polite trait, walked towards the sound.

“Miss Shy, Ah don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said as he followed her.

“But it could be a poor animal in need of help,” she said, and Big Mac could only roll his eyes. No animal that made a sound like that ever needed help.

Going deeper into the woods and away from the marked path revealed a sight that justified Big Mac’s caution. A large mass of transparent blue slept soundly in a wide clearing in the trees. Across its fur shone dull points of light in a familiar arrangement. He knew what it was, Applejack had told him the story of its rampage in Ponyville.

“Wow, an Ursa Minor,” Fluttershy said in awe. “I wonder what it’s doing out here. Twilight told me the one that was in Ponyville came from the woods near Canterlot.”

“That’s a mighty interestin’ question, Miss Shy. One that Ah’m sure ya can figure out somewhere a bit safer.” He moved in her way and began nudging her, gently, back the way they came.

“Oh wait, I’ve never seen one this close before,” she said while struggling against him and trying to go towards the bear.

“Me neither an’ Ah’m sorry it didn’t stay that way.” Soon the two were literally head to head trying to push one another in opposite directions. Big Mac was the obvious winner of the contest and soon Fluttershy’s hooves were sliding back along with the rest of her.

“Stop!” she yelled and Big Mac did, realizing the intensity her voice had. He looked behind him to find the bear shuffling and groaning out of its sleep. He turned back to the pegasus, or at least, where she was a moment ago. To his horror he saw her approaching the thing he so desperately wanted to get away from.

“Aww did we wake you?” she asked in a voice that Big Macintosh thought was most unfitting when directed at a creature that could eat her in one bite. The bear stood up and poised its eyes towards the comparatively miniscule pony.

“I know, why don’t I sing you a lullaby. Hu-“ she didn’t even have time to sing the first line before the Ursa belted out a deafening roar with all the strength of a terrifying tempest. But Fluttershy stood her ground and actually took another step forward, “Aww someone’s cranky. Don’t worry, once you get some more sleep you’ll feel much better.”

The Ursa primed itself for another boom of noise, but before it let it loose the ground beneath them began to shake. Not the continuous rattle of a quake but a start and stop accompanied by a loud crunch of earth, almost like steps. Specifically, steps coming towards them from the direction behind Big Macintosh. The farm pony could only heave a defeated sigh as he turned around. If the blue bear was an Ursa Minor then the towering monstrosity of purple translucence, sharpened teeth, and long claws was quite probably an Ursa Major.

Big Mac couldn’t think of a word that could accurately describe the Major’s size. It loomed high over the forest and he wondered how it went anywhere without drawing attention. There was no space for it to move between the trees, rather, it left a trail of fallen debris wherever it went. And right now where the mother went was to its cub and the ponies standing between them.

“Would ya like ta run now, Miss Shy, or would ya like to talk ta this’n too?” Big Mac said. His mind was in a strange place, as if it had delved so deep into fear and panic that it rolled over into the realm of not-giving-a-damn.

Fluttershy, however, didn’t seem to notice his sarcasm. She approached him and left the cub to bay at its mother. “Um, I’m sure we can clear up this misunderstanding,” she said, though her voice quivered just a bit.

She began to fly up to the approaching Ursa Major. He really didn’t understand what kind of a pony goes up to a monster like that and let alone to talk to it of all things. It was senseless and stupid, far better to just get a head start running for their lives. He wanted to tell her so but instead he just grabbed her pink tail between his teeth, not daring to let her go.

Fluttershy, still aloft in the air, looked back at him, “It’ll be okay.”

He didn’t want to believe her, but there was something in her teal eyes that made him do just that. His mouth moved of its own accord as it released her tail, and she gave him a smile before flying to the bigger Ursa.

From his vantage point he couldn’t hear what was happening above him, and the Ursa cub’s braying wasn’t helping matters much either. However, he did see the Major’s mouth open to roar a harsh bellow. The sheer power behind it sent Fluttershy barreling towards the ground.

Big Mac reacted immediately and moved to catch her on his back. The force of her landing managed to send a spike of pain throughout his body, focused around his chest. He ignored the pain and turned his neck to face the pegasus, “Any luck?” he asked her only half-sarcastically.

He received his answer in the form of another roar from the purple bear, though this time it raised a paw into the air before hurtling it towards the two ponies. Big Mac leapt out of the way just in time to avoid not only the paw but the shockwave traveling through the ground.

It was all the incentive he needed to run.

“Wait, I can still talk to her,” Fluttershy said, barely loud enough for Big Mac to hear over the thundering footsteps of the Ursa Major chasing after them. He didn’t answer her for a moment, busy as he was running for his life while trying to find the path they had strayed from. Finally, he found the trail of compacted dirt and picked up speed. But soon, the pain in his chest became almost unbearable and the Ursa Major had still not given up its pursuit.

“Miss Shy, Ah need ya ta fly outta here,” he said through his haggard breath.

“What about you?”

“Ain’t nothing good’ll come out of leading that thing ta Ponyville. Fly off with the plants while Ah lead it deeper inta the woods.” He couldn’t figure out why in the heck she was wasting time talking to him when she could be halfway to town by now.

“B-but,” she shook her head, “I can’t just leave you to face her by yourself. I can still reason with her, I know I can.”

He gave a frustrated growl, “Miss Shy, ya a’ready tried that and frankly ya ain’t got a choice,” he yelled. He grabbed hold of both Fluttershy’s tail and his saddlebag strap in his teeth. With a great pivot he heaved the yelling mare and his pack into the relative safety of the thick woods.

With Fluttershy out of harm’s way, he turned to face the rampaging beast. He dug his hooves into the dirt, ignored his pounding heart, swallowed the pain coursing through his body, and charged straight for the monster. He didn’t dare look up and just focused on the hallway-sized space between its stomach and the ground. The bear slammed its paws into the earth and created more quakes, but Big Mac managed to stay on his hooves. After his mad dash he found himself behind the creature and gave a shrill whistle to capture its attention. Once it fumbled to turned around and once he was satisfied that it was following him, and him alone, he sprinted off again.

He had no idea where the path led or even how he was going to get out of this. But none of that mattered right now. All he cared about was putting as much distance between his home and that thing as possible.

Deeper and deeper into the woods he ran, but neither he nor the Ursa showed any sign of stopping, at least at first. Too late did Big Mac realize that the path he had been following led to a sheer rock wall that curved out into a semi-circle that choked out any chance of escape. He was surrounded, and the Ursa Major was barreling down on him.

He’d be lying if he said he was fine with the way things turned out. Still, he had a good run and at least his affairs were in order. His family would be sad for a while and that couldn’t be helped but-

“Wait!”

A small voice snapped him out of his thoughts. No, there couldn’t possibly be a pony in all of Equestria dumb enough to come back. But once he saw the yellow pegasus descend and land in front of him, he thought of a few choice words to tell her if they got out of this alive.

“Please listen,” she called to the Ursa Major, but Big Mac would be surprised if it could hear her over its own fevered grunts and snarls, “this is all just a big misunderstanding.” Fluttershy’s pleas did nothing to stop the beast and soon it stood over them. It raised a huge claw poised to crush them underneath. But before it came down on them Fluttershy’s expression changed into one of righteous indignation.

“That is it!” she said and her voice had a new quality to it: one of confidence. She flew up to the Ursa Major’s face and, this time, Big Mac could hear every word.

“You do not chase my friends halfway thr-“ Fluttershy’s rant was cut short by an ear-splitting shout from the Ursa Major and once again the force of its breath sent Fluttershy spiraling down for Big Mac to catch her.

“So much for kindler and gentler,” he said to her.

“I-but…that usually works.” Her voice was back to its original timidness. One look at the creature was enough for him to figure out what went wrong.

“Miss Shy, if that were directed at me Ah’d be scared witless. But Ah reckon it didn’t work because it couldn’t hear ya.”

Fluttershy flew back to the ground before speaking, “What do you mean?”

“Well just look at it. It’s huge, yer just an ant ta it. An’ even at yer loudest Ah bet yer voice didn’t carry the distance to its ears, and even if it did it probably just sounded like a squeak.”

“Oh,” Fluttershy said. Again the Major raised a paw to squish the two like bugs. To Big Mac it seemed a bit sudden and without much ceremony, not that he cared for a thing like protocol, but all in all it was pretty rude to kill a couple of ponies without at least giving them time to say their farewells.

“Now wait just a pony-pickin’ minute,” he bellowed at the top of his voice. Big Mac walked towards the creature and stood between it and Fluttershy. “Didn’t yer mother ever teach ya any manners? Give us a minute ta say our goodbye’s before ya rush ta do us in.” The Ursa Major lowered its paw with a small grumble and Big Macintosh, satisfied, turned to face Fluttershy. Her jaw was hanging limply, he didn’t know at what but that didn’t matter right now.

“Miss Shy, get outta here. Ain’t no sense for both of us ta go, ‘specially when ya can just fly home and forget all ‘bout this.”

She blinked a couple of times before closing her mouth, “Big Mac, didn’t you see what you did?”

He shook his head, honestly confused at what she was talking about.

“The Ursa Major listened to you. If you talk to her you could clear all this up.”

“Miss Shy, ya got it all wrong. Ah ain’t good with animals and Ah definitely ain’t as good with animals as you are.”

She shook her head with a smile, “All that matters is that you speak from the heart. I wasn’t loud enough, but you are.”

Big Macintosh sighed. Truth be told he wasn’t much for this speaking from the heart mush. But as he turned to face the bear he figured it was worth a shot. After all, at this point he didn’t have much left to lose. But he still had one problem.

“What should Ah say?”

“Just say what’s in your heart and try to make a connection with hers.”

He rolled his eyes. Of course he would get more sugar-coated mush from her. Say what was in his heart. What did that even mean? All he knew was that he was seconds from kicking the bucket and all because this damn bear was trying to protect…her family. Big Mac sighed and took a few steps forward.

“Hey,” he shouted to the mama bear, though he could only guess if she understood him at all, “Ah gotta family of my own and Ah know Ah’d do anything ta protect them. An’…well, Ah know that if Ah thought somepony was out ta hurt ‘em Ah’d do exactly what yer doing right now. But ya gotta believe me when Ah say that we didn’t mean no harm ta yer son, and this is all just one big mistake.”

The Ursa Major lowered her head down, her chin almost touching the dirt. Big Macintosh could swear her enormous gaze focused not on him but on something ethereal, perhaps even the very words hanging between them. With a final puff of hot air blown from her nose, she rose back up, turned around, and walked back towards her cub.

Big Mac could only sit down, completely exhausted from the immense trouble he managed to get himself into and out of. He looked up at the sky to see the sun hanging just above him. All this excitement and it was only around noon.

A soft and warm feeling on his neck made him look down to see Fluttershy nuzzling against him. When she noticed his gaze she backed away quickly to hide her blushing cheeks behind her pink mane.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that you really did it.” She smiled at him, a gesture he wasn’t able to return.

“Why’d ya come back Miss Shy?” he asked, trying to keep the anger out of his voice.

Fluttershy lowered her gaze to the ground and started tracing random patterns in the dirt with her hoof, “I’m sorry but everything turned out okay, right? And friends always help friends in trouble.”

“Friends also listen to what their friends say. ‘specially when those friends are tryin’ ta keep ‘em safe. What if things didn’t turn out a’right, Miss Shy? If anything woulda happened ta ya Ah’d…” Big Mac shook his head with a sigh. Nothing more was said between them for some time as he sat and stared at his hooves.

He felt a hoof on his shoulder and rose his head to see Fluttershy looking at him with a small smile. He didn’t know whether it was her touch or her smile that eased his tension and worries away. All he knew was that something about her made him feel much more relaxed.

“Everything’s okay. You did a great job protecting me.”

He smiled and without a word got up and began walking back home with Fluttershy walking beside him.

“Say,” he said, “ya don’t happen ta know where my saddlebag is, do ya?”

Flutterhsy blushed, “I’m sorry, but I left it back when…well, you know.”

He nodded, “Ah’m sure we’ll find it on the way back.”

They did. It was hidden in a few bushes that provided it and Fluttershy a soft landing. After slinging it across Big Mac’s back and making sure the plants were still in the pack they continued their way towards town. As they reached the outskirts of Ponyville, Big Mac turned to the mare.

“Listen Miss Shy, about all this Ursa business. Ah’d appreciate it if ya didn’t tell anypony ‘bout it.”

Fluttershy looked at him for a moment before speaking, “Why not?”

“Ya know why.”

“I do.”

And Big Mac believed her.

3. In the Right Light

In the Right Light

Over the next couple of days Big Macintosh found his time heavily occupied by the productive act of hitting the flat of his head on one of the barn’s support columns. It was really all he could think of to occupy the obnoxious amount of free time he had on his hooves. It had only been a couple of weeks but already he could feel his body softening, his strength decreasing, and not to mention the quickly deteriorating state of his own mind. Though that last one might just be a result of all the head hitting.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried finding something to do, but only that there was nothing left for him to do. He had already counted every single blossom on every single apple tree in Sweet Apple Acres in order to calculate how many needed to be pollinated for a full harvest without burdening the boughs. He had already taken note of which trees had died over the past winter and could be chopped, stored to dry, and be sold next year. And he had already marked the spots where the new saplings could be planted to ensure future harvests. It was really the lightest work that could be done during the spring and the only work his sister would allow him.

“You keep doing that and ponies are gonna think yer crazy.” Applejack said as she entered the barn. Big Macintosh could only look at her while she hitched herself to a pull reel mower.

“Ah’m pretty sure Ah can mow the grass, AJ,” he said, almost pleadingly.

“Nope, Ah a’ready told ya not until Nurse Redheart takes a final look-see.”

“But that ain’t fer a couple of weeks. An’ Ah’m healed enough to do some actual work ‘round here.”

“That’s final, Big Macintosh,” Applejack sighed before her expression softened. “And anyway, Ah was s’possed ta tell ya that Rarity wants to see ya.”

Big Macintosh narrowed an eye at Applejack. Something smelled funny and it sure wasn’t the barn. Applejack noticed his suspicious gazed and took a sudden interest in the building’s support beams.

“AJ,” he said, approaching her. The honest mare could only give him a nervous smile as her eyes darted back and forth as if looking for an escape route.

“What ain’t ya tellin’ me?”

Applejack sighed. “Aw heck, big brother, Ah can’t tell ya. Rarity made me…” she hesitated, "Pinkie promise.”

The siblings took a moment to look around the barn. When nothing appeared out of the ordinary they returned their attention to each other.

“Well, Ah wouldn’t want ta make ya break a promise,” Big Mac sighed. “Still, Ah don’t much like the idea of a pony like Miss Rarity wantin’ ta see me.”

“Now wait a minute there, what do ya got against Rarity?” Applejack asked.

“Nothin’,” Big Mac said as he went towards the back of the barn to the icebox. “But ya gotta admit, ain’t like we got any history together that don’t involve you.” He came back towards his sister with the handle of a jug of cider hooked around one of his harness’ pegs.

“Well she might be a bit snooty, kind of loony when it comes ta bein’ clean, not ta mention all those compliments that’re really insults…” she paused for a moment as she tried to remember her point, “but she’s pretty nice once ya get ta really, really, really know ‘er.” She looked over at her brother and noticed the cider hanging from his harness. “Jeez Mac, you hittin’ the bottle a’ready?”

The farmpony rolled his eyes. “It’s fer Miss Rarity.”

Applejack stifled a giggle, “Yer gonna give Rarity a jug of cider from yer own private stash? That’s some mighty fine woo yer pitchin, big brother.”

“That ain’t it at all,” Big Macintosh quickly said, “it’s just that a stallion’s s’possed ta bring something when visiting a high class mare.”

The orange pony broke into laughter, unable to hold it for any longer. Big Mac only stared at her as he waited for the racket to subside. After a few minutes, Applejack finally wiped a tear from her eye as she looked at her brother.

“Rarity? A high class mare? Oh Mac if ya could only have seen what Ah've seen.”

Big Macintosh shook his head with a sigh before walking past his little sister, the sound of thick glass clunking against wood following him out.

“Make sure ya behave yerself.” Applejack taunted after him, but he paid no attention.

He made his way towards Ponyville, the midday sun hanging high above him. If only it was a little earlier in the morning, for at least then he’d have the luxury of wandering the empty streets in the comforting blue-orange cream of the sun rising above the horizon. But for now, he supposed that the noon’s shadow-destroying incandescence would have to do.

Rarity’s boutique soon came into view, though two things forced him to build up the nerve to actually approach.
The first was the actual design of the building. Carousel Boutique with its flamboyant display of bright pinks, blues, yellows, hearts and flowery designs girlishly squealed that this place was simply not for him.

The second was actually talking to Rarity herself. Whatever Applejack might say, whenever he saw her around Ponyville or with his sister he couldn’t help notice just how different she was from him. Heck, even Applejack hardly spent time with her without the company of her other friends. Without that buffer what chance would he have?

He hoofed the ground a bit before forcing the thoughts away. A timid stallion never did anyone any good. With no further hesitation he walked up to the door and gave three soft and firm knocks upon the wood. Not a moment passed before the door opened so fast it caused a breeze.

Pretty wasn’t exactly the word to describe her. She was a looker that much was certain. But she had a quality of elegance that even Big Macintosh could appreciate, though he had no idea what it was about her. Perhaps it was that lovely curled purple mane that fell to her face so nicely, or maybe the large sapphires she had for eyes that provided a remarkable contrast to her immaculate white coat. Whatever it was, Big Macintosh had to cough and compose himself before starting to speak. Though the effort proved unnecessary.

“Big Macintosh, what a pleasure to see you. Come in, come in, Applejack told me you would be dropping by,” Rarity said as she returned inside. Big Mac had to think for a moment before he followed her.

The smell of perfume hung heavy in the air and its sickingly sweet scent threatened to give him a headache. All around the room were several dress forms, some clothed some not, and fabric of all colors and textures imaginable draped chaotically about. Big Mac had a tough time trying to think through all the stimuli overwhelming his senses. A much different world than his usual browns and greens that was for sure.

“Ah brought some cider fer ya,” Big Mac managed to say, leaning his head to the side to give her a better view of the bottle on his harness.

“Oh thank you,” Rarity said as she approached him and took the bottle with a glow of light blue magic, “but may I ask why?”

As Rarity placed the cider on a nearby table, Big Mac’s mind raced as his expectations were thrown out the window. He mentally cursed himself for following some stupid rigmarole when he had no idea of its inner workings.

“Uh, Ah just thought it’d be- Well Ah thought ya might like some,” he said, rubbing his neck without really thinking about it.

Rarity smiled, “How thoughtful of you. Would you like to drink some with me?”

The stallion only nodded, deciding to just be quiet and avoid any more social faux pas. He didn’t really understand why he was having such a difficult time. It would be so much easier if she were the snobby sort. At least then he wouldn’t have to care so much of what she thought of him. But Rarity, while a bit prissy judging from what little he had to go on, had a good heart to her. He couldn’t count how many times she helped her sister and for that, well, he just hoped he didn’t make a fool of himself.

The distinct scent of cider wafted into his nose and brought him out of his thoughts. He blinked once before looking at the glass floating beneath his nose in a glow of magic and the unicorn smiling in front of him. Silently, he bit the brim of the glass and took a sip.

“Delicious as always,” Rarity said after taking her own sip. She placed the glass on a table and Big Macintosh did the same as he wondered when the unicorn would get to why she called him here in the first place.

He didn’t have to wait long. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to speak to you ever since that horrible accident with the floating applecart.” Big Mac opened his mouth to protest, but Rarity stopped him with a raise of her hoof. “Now let me finish. I know you don’t wish to talk about it, but I just wanted to say I’d like to make it up to you.” Her horn glowed with light and soon a sheet of parchment floated between them as Big Mac finished the rest of his cider in one great gulp. “I’ve been invited to an art viewing in Canterlot tomorrow and I was hoping you would like to be my plus one.”

Big Macintosh placed the glass back on the table and looked at Rarity as he answered her. “Ah appreciate the offer Miss Rarity but Ah ain’t to comfortable at parties, ‘specially ones with, uh, in Canterlot.”

“Oh nonsense,” she declared as she stepped towards him. “With me by your side you’ll take to it like a pegasus takes to the sky. We’ll make a day of it. Have brunch in the morning, do a bit of shopping, see a show, take in the wonderful scenery, and finish the day with a bit of artistic splendor. Lovely, wouldn’t you say?”

His mind was reeling as it tried to think of a proper excuse. Without thinking, he took a step back. “Ah’m sorry Miss Rarity but Ah wouldn’t want ta embarrass ya, what with me being just a farmpony and all.”

“Perish the thought,” she said while taking a step forward, her nose coming very close to his, “I could never be embarrassed by such a polite stallion.”

“Well uh,” he rummaged for another excuse as he took another step back, “Ah don’t have anythin’ fancy ta wear.”

“Then I’ll make you the most dashing suit, free of charge,” she said while taking another step forward.

“Ah don’t think Ah have the time, what with the farm an' all.” Another step back.

“Not to worry, I’ve already sorted out the details with Applejack.” Another step forward.

“Ah really can’t afford ta go ta Canterlot.” Back.

“It’ll be my treat.” Forward.

Soon Big Mac found himself out of room and out of excuses. Worst yet, he had managed to make Rarity offer to make him a suit and pay for him in Canterlot. Something that he could just not have. So as he turned his head to the side to avoid gazing at those big sapphires, he sighed with the knowledge that he had been beat.

“A’right Ah’ll go.”

“Wonderful,” she said. Her horn glowed a light blue as a tailor’s tape hovered towards them. “I’ll start on your suit immediately. We only have a day, after all. I just need to take your measurements.”

Big Macintosh shook his head. “Now hold on, if yer gonna make me a suit Ah want ta pay for it. Same with goin’ ta Canterlot. Ain’t no way Ah’m gonna let somepony else pay for me. If anythin’ Ah’d like to pay for you, seems like the right thing ta do.”

Rarity’s expression changed into a soft smile and gentle eyes. “Big Macintosh that’s very sweet of you. But I insist on making this suit for free just as I insist on paying any expenses we incur in Canterlot. I am, after all, repaying you for everything you’ve done.”

“But Ah-“

“I will not hear of it!” Rarity said in a much firmer voice than Big Mac thought possible of her. As if noticing her outburst she placed a hoof daintily in front of her mouth. “Please excuse me, but,” she moved her hoof from her lips to his cheek and Big Mac had to suppress the small shiver going down his back, “I want to make this up to you. Pinkie Pie’s party is all well and good but for me it’s simply not enough. So please, allow me to do this not only to thank you but to also make me feel a bit better about my…part in the incident.”

Big Mac sighed at how sweetly her voice sounded in his ears. He knew she was playing him like a fiddle, but for now he forced himself to be content with submitting to Rarity’s wishes. She directed him to the center of the room and without a moment’s hesitation magically took off his harness and wrapped and stretched the measuring tape around and across various parts of his body. All the while Rarity mumbled her thoughts aloud as she brought various fabrics and accessories to him, jotting down a few notes as she did.

“Now lets see. A shirt, vest, jacket combination ought to look quite elegant. But would it be best finished with a tie or bowtie? Oh hush Rarity, just look at the size of his chest. Ah! A formal ascot should do just the trick, folded and puffed a bit from the collar. Silk of course, it needs to be silk. No not silk, at least partially silk. Perhaps duchess satin? The dress shirt can be linen. Now let’s see about the vest. That can be cotton or perhaps fine wool. Oh, but what should the jacket be? Tweed? Oh don’t be silly, this is Canterlot, it’s not as if he’ll be teaching at Manehatten University giving young co-eds heart-flutters. No no no no no. Cashmere then? That won’t do. Think, Rarity, think. Maybe flannel or seersucker. Oh and I haven’t even begun to think of colors.”

By the time Rarity finally took a break from her stylistic rant at least a dozen sheets of fabric were draped across Big Mac’s body, mostly blacks and blues with a few lighter shades of grays and whites. Around his neck were a few undone black, navy, and purple ties of varying thickness.

“Well, uh,” he said beneath the mound of fabric, “Ah s’ppose Ah should be leaving ya to yer work. So Ah’ll just be-“

“Oh Big Macintosh, you can’t leave now.”

“Ah can’t?”

“No, I still need you here. Measurements are only the beginning. I still need to do fittings for the muslin and color checks and oh so much more.”

“But, can’t ya just use one of them mannaq-“ he stopped when he realized her predicament. All around the room were statues that Rarity used to fit dresses and, consequently, they were all in the shape of mares. Nowhere in the room was a form of a colt, let alone one as big as him.

“How long will it take?” he asked.

“Just a few hours, and believe me it’ll be worth it,” she said as she levitated yet more colors of fabric onto Big Mac’s body.

He silently took the weight and let her get back to her vocal thoughts. Every so often she would use a hoof to lift one of his forelegs without asking him, or just stare intently at a seemingly random curve of his body. But the worst was when she would turn his head, her hoof stroking his cheek a bit more softly and slowly than what he was comfortable with. She was silent then.

It was during one of those times that the two actually began a conversation. “Have you ever been to Canterlot?” Rarity asked, her face so close that he could feel the breath of the question graze his ear.

“Nnope,” he said. He wanted nothing more than to take a step back from her and regain some comfortable distance. But the situation prevented him from relying on physical distance to detach himself, instead he hoped that short answers might bring the two back into the silence he was more comfortable with.

“Have you…ever traveled at all?” she asked and he could swear there was just a touch of pity in her voice.

“Have you, Miss Rarity?”

“A few times,” she said with a flourish of her mane. “I’ve been to Canterlot, of course, Manehattan, Appleoosa, and Cloudsdale. All with their own charm, to be sure, but Ponyville will always be my favorite. Though I may be a bit biased.”

Big Mac smiled despite himself. “Ah hear ya, ain’t no place like home after all.” Rarity returned his smile and the two fell back into silence. Finally she placed the tape measure in a small drawer in a nearby dresser before turning to Big Macintosh. In a glow of magic he found the sheets of fabric lifted off his back.

“Well the measurements are done and I’ve picked a few sample textures and colors. Do you have any particular preferences?” she asked as she levitated the different fabrics in front of him. He wasn’t exactly sure what would look good or not. Heck, he could have sworn two different samples were exactly the same shade of blue.

“Ah don’t know a lick about this stuff, Miss Rarity. Ah’ll trust yer judgment on this.”

Rarity smiled and the fabrics fluttered back into their places about the room. “Your trust is well placed, I assure you.” She stepped towards him and once again turned his head to the side. She held it for what seemed like an eternity.

“Miss Rarity?”

She smiled, lowered her hoof, and walked towards a drafting table. “Your eyes are a tad shade darker than Applejack’s. I can’t believe I didn’t notice it before. I’m thinking cool colors to subdue the bright red of your coat. A black jacket and shirt with a dark purple ascot, handkerchief and vest. A simple two color suit that subdues your presence a bit, which I think you’ll appreciate.” As she spoke she levitated a quill and hurriedly etched a few lines of ink on a piece of parchment.

“That all sounds mighty fine, Miss Rarity. Ah gotta admit Ah thought ya would put me in some sorta bright rainbow of an outfit.” Big Macintosh said with a smile.

“Oh nonsense. A designer always keeps a client’s own stylistic personality in mind when creating. I know how quiet and reserved you are so I chose colors to match,” Rarity said before giving him a smirk. “But if you’d like to be more daring I have just the design.”

Big Mac forced a nervous laugh. “That’s okay, Miss Rarity. Might just go with yer first instinct.”

Rarity only chuckled as she approached the table and refilled her glass. “Would you like some more cider?”

“Eeyup.”

-*-

“Have you thought about growing out your tail?”

“Nnope and Ah don’t feel too comfortable with ya looking at my backside, Miss Rarity.”

“Really? Why not?”

“Well how would ya like it if Ah stared at yer flank?”

“I would be flattered.”

“…”

“Big Macintosh?”

“Are ya flattered yet, Miss Rarity?”

“Oh stop that.”

Rarity fixed another pin, one of hundreds lining the muslin, to the white jacket’s back seam. The jacket was the last piece of clothing to be pinned around Big Mac’s body. At first he contemplated the logic behind making a second complete suit, albeit with a cheaper fabric. But once he really thought about it he supposed it all led back to that old saying of measuring twice and cutting once. Besides, it wasn’t as if he was an expert on tailoring.

“You know you never answered my question,” Rarity said as she fine-tuned the length of the sleeves.

“Ah a’ready said Ah’d like more cider.”

She chuckled. “You know full well I mean my other question. The one about traveling.”

“Aw well, truth be told Ah never traveled outside the farm much.”

“Really? What about those Apple family reunions Applejack talks about? Surely they aren’t always held at your farm.”

“Nnope, but the family reunion’s always been for the youngest and oldest ponies in the family. Ponies that a farm can spare ta be without for a while. Take my cousin Braeburn, Ah know ya met him when y’all went ta Appleloosa. He didn’t come to the reunion we had at our farm ‘cause he was too busy workin’.”

“Oh,” Rarity said as she moved on to the jacket’s front. She examined Big Mac’s chest so closely he could feel the point of her horn pressing against his neck. He was glad that it wasn’t as sharp as it appeared.

“Would you like to travel?” she asked as her horn glowed to adjust a few buttons and Big Mac could feel it warm slightly against his skin.

“When Ah was a colt, about a bit younger than AJ, Ah thought about it. Thought it could be somethin’ Ah’d like ta do. Ah grew out of it though.”

“So Canterlot will be your first big trip?” she asked as she took a step back from Big Macintosh, much to his relief. Though the relief didn’t stay for long as her eyes trailed along his body. She examined every fine line and minute curve like a jeweler inspecting a rock for its worth. He would actually be impressed if he weren’t the one being scrutinized.

“Eeyup,” he managed to say underneath the weight of her gaze.

“Then all the more reason to make this trip stunning,” she said, waving her hoof in the air with all the flourish of a thespian.

Big Mac could only roll his eyes with a smile at the display. “Ya got a flair fer the dramatic, Miss Rarity.”

Rarity broke her pose and took away the pins from the jacket, letting the fabric fall apart before magically setting it on a nearby table. “I try,” she smiled. "I have all the alterations recorded so you can go if you want. I’ll work on the actual suit over the next couple of hours. Just come by tomorrow morning and you can try it on, I can make any necessary changes, we’ll get ready, and then be off.”

Big Macintosh nodded. “How early do ya want me here?”

“As early as you can, and don’t worry about waking me. I usually wake up at least an hour before sunrise on big trips like this. It takes a while to dress to perfection, after all.”

“If ya say so, Miss Rarity.” He looked around the room for a moment before turning back to her, “Have ya seen my harness?”

“Oh that’s right, I put it in the back room for safe keeping.” Her horn shined blue and a second later Big Mac’s harness floated between them. Rarity took a moment to examine it before placing it around his neck.

“Thank ya, Miss Rarity. Ah’ll see ya tomorrow then.”

“Likewise,” she said with a smile.

Big Mac smiled back before quickly making his way out the door into the early night. Once he walked some feet away from the boutique he sighed deeply. Spending time with the designer drained his social reserves completely, and tonight wasn’t going as well as he would have hoped.

All that aside, he focused on the actual events that he would have to traverse through in Canterlot. An art viewing didn’t seem like his cup of tea, heck, a cup of tea didn’t even sound like his cup of tea. But there wasn’t any backing out of it now and the only thing he could do was make his way to the library.

As he approached the library, he made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t talk excessively to Twilight Sparkle. Not that he hated talking to her, only that whenever he did he always managed to talk about things he felt unqualified to talk about. He sighed, something he found himself doing a lot lately, and walked up to the door.

Despite his countless visits throughout the time of his recovery, Big Mac still insisted on knocking on the door. Though instead of waiting for someone to open it he let himself in. He knew the oddity of the habit, but honestly he just didn’t feel comfortable barging in unannounced.

“Hi Big Macintosh,” Twilight Sparkle greeted him from behind a bookstand while reading a book thicker than any book had any business being, “can I help you with anything?”

“As a matter of fact, Ah was wonderin’ whether ya have any books on,” he paused for a moment, “art.”

“Art?” she repeated as she strode towards him. “Sure, we have plenty of books on art. Let’s see,” a few glowing books levitated towards them, seemingly picked at random from the shelves, “critiques, histories, biographies, surveys, studies…” she trailed off as she saw Big Macintosh’s half-lidded stare.

“Got any picture books?” he asked.

“Uh, okay. Picture books, let’s see.” Several of the books flew back to their place leaving only one in the air. “This one’s a little outdated, published around twenty years ago, but it has a good range of famous paintings throughout history. Plus this edition has an added analysis of every painting by several well-respected scholars of art and art history.” She placed the book on the front desk, and Big Macintosh eyed the hefty tome warily.

“Do ya got any with just the pictures?”

“Just the paintings? Well okay…” Twilight said before another book, this one with the same black cover and a bit thinner, floated towards them and onto the desk. “Here you go. It’s the same book but an earlier edition with just a bit of background on each painting to provide context. But are you sure you don’t want the other one? It sure could teach you a lot.”

“Aw heck, Miss Sparkle, Ah don’t need any puffed up ponies tellin’ me how ta look at a painting,” Big Mac said. He grabbed the thinner book and wedged it beneath his harness as Twilight brought a quill and notebook to her.

“I don’t know, Big Macintosh. I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know much about art, but if I were trying to learn about it I’d start reading books by ponies that do,” she said as she recorded his name and the book he was checking out.

Big Mac was silent for a few seconds before responding, “Well Ah s’ppose that’d be true if Ah was learnin’ how ta build a house or lay down road. But ya can’t teach someone how ta see somethin’ or how ta hear somethin’. Just ‘cause Ah know apples ain’t gonna mean Ah’m gonna tell ya how ta taste one.”

Twilight only nodded slowly, though her eyes were narrowed in thought. “That’s…true. But I think there’s a difference between being taught how to see and being taught what to see. Those scholars aren’t telling you how to see the painting. They’re only pointing out what you should be aware of. You know, things like…” she took a moment to bring a book towards her. Her eyes quickly scanned the inner pages within seconds, “line width, negative space, value, color, and form just to name a few.”

“Miss Sparkle,” he said, “does all that really matter? Ain’t like Ah’m gonna hate a painting ‘cause its lines are a bit thick.”

“Well sure, but…”

The conversation went on for a couple of hours after that. And like most of their talks the target of argument seemed to shift and move as related topics were brought up. It wasn’t until the pair found themselves debating whether ice cream flavors could be categorized as art that Big Macintosh noticed how late it had become. With a quick goodbye and a promise to continue the conversation, he left for home with Twilight closing the library for the day soon after.

As he walked the long path back home, Big Macintosh couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed at how the day went. Not only had he gotten himself roped up in a trip to Canterlot of all places but somehow, by some massive blunder, also managed to get a pretty mare to pay for the whole thing. He sighed as that one fact washed over him like an ice bath. The only thing that brought him comfort was that letting Rarity take him would allow her to forget about this whole thing.

To add insult to injury he also got tangled up in another conversation with Twilight Sparkle. As much as he liked talking to the studious unicorn, he couldn’t help but feel a bit…dull when he talked to her. Whenever they had a friendly debate it always felt as if his thoughts were too rudimentary, too basic and unrefined. He enjoyed learning from their conversations but feared that Twilight might see them as a nuisance, as if she were explaining to a foal why the sky was blue.

There was, however, really no point in dwelling on any of that now. Big Macintosh finally arrived at Sweet Apple Acres and into the Apple family house only to find it darkened and silent. No doubt everyone was already asleep at this hour.

He climbed up the steps towards his room and placed his borrowed book on his bookstand. He contemplated opening it and taking a peek at what sort of pictures awaited him in Canterlot, but his bed was calling to him. After an overwhelming day, he was just about ready to answer it.

He took one last look at the black book before he plopped himself on his mattress, not even bothering to remove his harness.

-*-

Big Mac woke up earlier than his usual hour to finally look inside his borrowed book. Though he could have easily told himself that he just didn’t have the time, the truth of the matter was that he was dreading looking at it. He rolled his eyes as he realized the ridiculousness of the whole thing and, with a bit more force than he intended to, opened the tome.

He recognized the more famous paintings. The ones whose reproductions could be seen in restaurants, classrooms, and the occasional yard sale. Course he didn’t have much experience with any of those places. The book covered most art from ancient cave paintings to more recent works, but Big Mac found that he highly favored the art of Cloud Monet. He noted his favorite paintings before closing it up an hour later.

Big Mac just sat in his room for a bit, his sight catching the hook on his wall where he would usually hang his harness. With a wistful sigh, he removed the collar and placed it on its hook before leaving his room.

A shower later and the red stallion passed the kitchen where Granny Smith was already working on breakfast.

“Mornin’ Granny,” he said to the aged pony. He didn’t wait for her to start a story about meeting his grandfather in an art museum. Instead he hurried out of the house and into the predawn day, the eastern sky just a tad shade lighter than the sky to the west.

The world was silent, not even the birds could be heard. But, like always, the closer he came to the town the louder things became. Though nobody but him would really consider Ponyville at this early hour loud. But very few really listened to the muffled sounds of the Cakes shuffling pans to get ready for the coming day of baking, the soft beating of wings as the mailmare made her rounds, or the steady hoofclops of teachers on their way to their classrooms.

After exploring the town to admire the silhouetted houses, Big Macintosh made his way to the Carousel Boutique. Its bright colors were much subdued without the light of the sun and muted into mere shades of gray. He couldn’t help but prefer it that way, if only because the lack of color made its unique shape all the more apparent.

He hesitated at the door for a second, taking time to take a few breaths. Finally he knocked on the door and, in an instant, it swung open. Rarity stood at the other side wrapped in two towels, one for her mane and the other for her body.

“Ah’m sorry, Miss Rarity. Ah must’ve come too early.”

Rarity shook her head so hard her towel threatened to fall off, “Oh no it’s fine. As a matter of fact I was expecting you to come earlier. Come in, come in, we have lots to do.”

With a quick nod of his head he hurried inside. His hindlegs barely touched the floor when he was attacked by a brigade of combs, an army of brushes, a bucket of water, and some goop that smelled better than it felt glopped into his mane. He took a step back in surprise, but once he saw Rarity brushing and teasing her own mane he calmed down a bit. Though he couldn’t help being jealous of both her magic and her ability to multitask.

Rarity, her mane now perfectly primed and curled as usual, approached him with a sly smile. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for a chance to straighten that mess of a mane. Have a look.” With a glow of magic she brought a full size mirror in front of him.

He had to admit, he looked pretty good with his mane slicked up a bit. It didn’t look as gelled as he had expected it too given the amount of stuff Rarity had used. It still retained some of its usual poof, but just a bit more relaxed with not a strand out of place.

“Like it?” Rarity asked as if it were a rhetorical question.

Big Macintosh could only nod, still getting used to his new style. Rarity chuckled as she used her magic to bring him a finished black suit. Before he could even start to admire it, Rarity already had the white dress shirt wrapped around his shoulders. With a roll of his eyes and a bit of a smile at her forward nature he lifted his forelegs one by one and allowed her to slip them through the sleeves. Then came the vest and ascot, the latter of which she tied and twisted with such speed that his eyes couldn’t keep up. By the end of it all, the necktie came neatly tucked into his vest. Last came the jacket, and the suit was complete.

“Perfect, I don't even have to make any adjustments. Now stay right there while I get ready. Feel free to make yourself at home.” She walked towards what Big Mac had previously thought was simply a curtain until she passed through it. He supposed it was some sort of private changing room.

He took the moment of privacy to look at himself in the mirror again. He had to make sure it was actually a mirror, for the colt standing within its borders was almost unrecognizable. His neat hair and fetching suit went a long way in making him look like he belonged on the streets of Canterlot and Manehattan.

But that’s what disturbed him the most. He didn’t belong on the same streets as the rich and powerful and, frankly, he didn’t much want to. The colt in the mirror was just a lie, an illusion that allowed Rarity to bring him into that world for only a day. He was happy to play along if only for her sake, but he worried about what would happen if that lie were found out.

“What do you think?” Rarity’s voice snatched his thoughts and gaze away from the mirror. He focused both on the dressed unicorn that just walked into the room. Though it was hard to tell she was a unicorn with the bright yellow wide-brimmed hat she was wearing. It matched the hue of the dress she wore, a light sundress with a deeper gold trim on the hem. Big Mac didn’t know much about fashion, but he had no doubt that she would be comfortable in the warm air of spring.

“Mighty pretty, Miss Rarity,” he said with a small smile.

“You’re too sweet, even if it is true.” She giggled at what apparently was a joke and Big Mac could only give a weak chuckle, “Which reminds me, I have something for you.” Big Mac would never have thought a mare’s smile could ever fill him with as much dread as Rarity’s did at that moment.

“Ah,” he was about to object and tell her to stop this onslaught of giving that made him feel so damn uncomfortable, but one look at those eyes of hers forced him to shut up and just say, “can’t wait.”

Rarity’s smile grew as her horn glowed and from behind the curtain came his harness. Well, not really his harness but a very close replica. The most discernible difference was its color. The pitch black of ebony replaced the usual warm brown of applewood, and the silver pegs now shone gold. While the shape remained the same, it was much thinner than the original.

Without asking, Rarity slipped his head through the harness and around his neck. She twisted it left and right to get it exactly centered before taking a step back to admire her work. She sighed deeply.

“Big Macintosh you look absolutely…” she trailed off and for a moment their eyes met only to hastily be torn away from each other. He kept his gaze on his hooves and she kept it everywhere except directly at him. He knew what she was feeling because he felt it as well, and that just made it infinitely worse.

Big Mac cleared his throat to relieve the tension in the air, “Thank ya, Miss Rarity. This is the nicest thing anypony’s ever done fer me.”

“Think,” she coughed meekly, “think nothing of it. I had a feeling you wouldn’t want to bring your usual collar. Shame really, I always thought it a rather nice accessory on you. So I managed to make another one that would be a bit more suited for Canterlot.”

“It musta been a lot of work. If there’s anythin’ Ah could ever do for ya-“

The unicorn laughed, “Big Macintosh, I’m doing all this to thank you. So please don’t fret over it.” She smiled and the farmpony could only nod.

The next couple of hours Rarity spent going over herself and Big Mac with a meticulous gaze. The conscientious unicorn quickly remedied any hair out of place, any thread out of form, and anything and everything that ruined her goal of absolute perfection.

Big Macintosh, meanwhile, just stood still and allowed her to pick, sew, comb, and examine him. He didn’t mind much since it allowed him to do what he did best: being quiet. Finally Rarity nodded, her work done.

“We should really get going if we’re to arrive by brunch,” she said, heading for the door.

He didn’t have any idea what brunch was, all he knew was that soon he would be beneath the heavy scrutiny of Canterlot ponies. He followed Rarity into the morning outside, the sun hanging above the horizon. Ponyville, thankfully, remained almost as empty as when he first walked inside.

“So how long of a walk is it?” Big Macintosh asked.

“Oh sweetie,” Rarity chuckled, “one does not simply walk into Canterlot. We’ll be taking the train.”

He could only sigh as the ethereal sound of clinking bits echoed in his ears.

-*-

Big Macintosh looked down at the menu of the bistro that Rarity decided to stop by for brunch. Even though the rays of the noonday sun, bathing the pair on the outdoor patio, hinted at lunch. Rarity’s menu remained on the table, her choice already made, while Big Mac was having trouble with the strange names fancily written on the card stock. He was about to ask Rarity when a well-dressed waiter with a gray coat and silver mane approached them. Floating in front of him was a small pad of paper and a pencil.

“Good day. My name is Silver Platter and I will be your waiter.”

“Hello.” Rarity said.

“Howdy,” the farmpony said without really thinking.

Silver Platter quirked an eyebrow, “Yes…how-dee.” Rarity shot him a glare and the waiter quickly cleared his throat, “May I take your orders?”

“I’ll have the carrot and ginger cream soup. Thank you.” The waiter nodded and wrote down the order before turning to Big Macintosh.

The red pony took a one last look at the menu, “So what’s polenta?” he asked.

The waiter sighed. “Boiled cornmeal with cheese, butter, and seasonings.”

“Well what about risotto?”

“Rice cooked in vegetable stock to a creamy consistency.”

“Uh-huh. Ah’ll just have water, if ya don’t mind.”

“Very well. Your food will be ready shortly,” the waiter said before taking the menus and leaving the two.

“I can’t believe how rude he was,” Rarity said with a huff.

“Really?” Big Mac said, honestly surprised, “Ah didn’t notice.”

“You didn’t notice how his expression changed when you spoke? As if something revolting crawled out of your mouth. Not to mention how disinterested he was when answering your questions.”

Big Mac only shrugged, “Ah guess Ah’m used ta it.”

Rarity sighed and opened her mouth to speak but stopped when she saw the waiter coming towards them. He placed a bowl of creamy orange soup in front of Rarity and a glass of water in front of Big Macintosh, who muttered his thanks. With a nod the waiter left the two alone again as quickly as he had come.

“How is it?” Big Mac asked as Rarity sipped her soup from her spoon.

“Very good,” she said, “but you really should have gotten something for yourself. Don’t let it bother you that I’m paying.”

“It ain’t that,” he said, though it was only half true, “it’s just that the only thing Ah thought looked good was the Waldorf salad. But apples are outta season, so they’d probably been imported from somewhere south. By the time those apples got ta me they’d be bland and mushy.”

Rarity pursed her lips in thought. “But not three days ago Applejack gave me some apples and they were perfectly crisp.”

He gave her a small smile. “Apple family secret, Miss Rarity. We store ‘em a special way that keeps ‘em fresh longer.”

"Oh really? I can keep a secret." Rarity said, her eyelashes fluttering so fast he was sure she would fly away.

Big Mac had to look away. "Sorry Miss Rarity, Ah can't tell ya."

"Pleeease." Her eyes seemed to get bigger and she puckered her slightly quivering lips. Big Mac made the mistake of looking and quickly turned back away, his eyes shut tighter than a safe.

"Now that ain't even fair," he said with a bit of a chuckle.

Rarity smiled. "Your will is strong, but no stallion has ever managed to resist," she taunted.

But Big Mac absolutely refused to open his eyes again until, finally, Rarity admitted defeat with a laugh, "Alright, I'll stop...for now."

He smiled as he opened his eyes. "Thank ya."

The two continued their meal in easy silence, Big Mac content with just sipping his water though a bit disappointed that it was sparkling. About an hour later, Rarity left the amount of their bill on the table plus tip and, after Big Mac looked at the bits in thought, the pair continued along the streets of Canterlot.

The farmpony found himself looking up at the impressive buildings, fountains, and monuments that composed the city. It’s architecture was nothing like that of Ponyville, not to mention the simple farm buildings of Sweet Apple Acres.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Rarity said as she noticed his gaze.

“Eeyup,” he said before absently adding, “Ah wish Ah could see it before the sun rose.”

“Really? Why?”

Big Macintosh bit his loose tongue. “Just ta,” he thought quickly, “enjoy it longer.”

Thankfully, Rarity only nodded as she led him towards a building with a giant marquee over its entrance. A line of ponies in fashionable dress waited outside its doors, chatting excitedly amongst themselves.

“We’re just in time for the matinee.” Rarity exclaimed as she led him to the end of the line, “I’ve heard wonderful things about this play, everyone I’ve talked to told me it’s all the rage.”

Big Macintosh leaned over to get a better look at the marquee, written in bold black lettering were the words The Demon Barber of Fleet Street. He hummed in thought for a moment before turning to Rarity.

“What’s it about?” he asked.

“I’m not really sure of the details. But I assume it’s about a stylist who purposefully ruins his clients’ manes. How dastardly, wouldn’t you agree?”

-*-

“Pretty fillies…fascinating…sipping coffee…dancing. Pretty fillies…” Big Mac half sang his favorite song of the performance as he exited the theater, the sun now hanging low in the sky, “Ah gotta tell ya, Miss Rarity, Ah ain’t one for plays but that was really somethin’.”

Big Macintosh looked back only to find Rarity a few feet behind him, looking a bit frazzled. She held his handkerchief, which he had given her midway through the play, up to her mouth. Her mane was an untidy mess caused by the various times she buried her face in his jacket during the performance.

“You okay Miss Rarity?” he asked, stopping to let her catch up to him.

She nodded weakly. “Yes I’m fine. It’s just, well, I didn’t expect it to be so…violent. Just give me a moment and I’ll be as right as rain.” She managed a small smile before neatly folding Big Mac’s handkerchief and returning it to his chest pocket. Then, with a bit of magic, she fixed her hair like new. “Now let’s hurry along, or we’ll be late for the viewing.”

“Are ya sure? You don’t want me ta fetch ya some water or anything?” he asked her, but she quickly shook her head.

“It’s sweet of you to ask, but I’ll be fine.” Rarity said and the subject was dropped.

As the two made their way down the street, Big Macintosh couldn’t help but notice how incredible the buildings looked in the late afternoon light. All of Canterlot seemed bathed in golds, oranges, and blues. The black-cloaked monoliths of masonry and carpentry seemed less like buildings and more like parts of the actual mountain on which they stood. The sun ahead of them caused the ponies on the street to be shaded in inky black silhouettes and, just as the buildings themselves, appeared to be a fixture of architecture.

Rarity chuckled, “It’s the same Canterlot as earlier, Big Macintosh.”

It wasn’t. But before he could say anything to that effect Rarity stopped at one of the grander buildings lining the street. Big Mac could only squint as the glare from its surface assaulted him, the massive structure seemed to be made of nothing but glass and steel. But once his eyes became accustomed he found that the building wasn’t all glass but rather highly polished white and gray stone.

He whistled, despite himself, earning a smug smile from Rarity. She gave him a sideways glance and he just rolled his eyes as he stepped towards the great wooden door. He stopped only briefly to admire the craftsmanship of the darkened oak before opening it, the sounds of a string quartet and piano emanating from inside. He stepped aside, holding the door for Rarity. She entered and he followed.

Whoever designed and built the art museum didn’t care much for subtlety. The stone floor shared the same high gloss as the outside of the building, so much so that he could swear it glittered. In the center of the room stood a stone sculpture of a stallion rearing up as a mare painted him. A few ponies surrounded it as they talked amongst themselves. Others, meanwhile, gathered around the various artworks lining the walls, each painting perfectly illuminated by the immense crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Each one composed of hundreds of thousands of tiny prisms of glass.

“Rarity! What a pleasure to see you again.”

Big Mac brought his eyes back to level to see a suited white unicorn stallion approach them. His blue mane was combed and parted towards the front while the back was neatly and lightly gelled. He wore a monocle over his left eye and had, Big Macintosh had to admit, a pretty nice moustache.

“Fancy Pants! The pleasure is all mine.” Rarity said before raising a hoof towards her plus one, “I’d like to introduce you to Big Macintosh Apple, a dear friend of mine.”

The workpony briefly wondered how he managed to become a ‘dear friend’ of hers after only spending less than a day together.

“So nice to meet you, Mr. Apple. Any friend of Rarity’s is a friend of mine. I absolutely cannot wait to show you two the museum's latest exhibit. It’s on loan from Manehattan.”

The pair said their agreement and Fancy Pants led the way towards the other end of the spacious room and towards an archway that signaled a partition in the exhibits. Rarity followed him while Big Mac made sure to keep close to his only guiding light in such strange waters.

Honestly, he had expected a bit more ceremony before being swept about. But soon the trio entered the room crowded with ponies gathered in half-circles around each installation.

The white stallion led them towards the painting on the furthest wall and surrounded by the most admirers. As the gathered ponies saw Fancy Pants coming their way they quickly parted, allowing space for all three of them to comfortably stand at the best vantage point in front of the painting.

The canvas itself stood at about the height of the average apple tree. The actual painting, however, consisted of only a small black square in the middle of the canvas. A single diagonal line of mixed yellows, oranges and reds streaked across the black. Fancy Pants looked at the pair with a smile, waiting to hear their thoughts.

Thankfully, Rarity spoke first, “A rather…interesting piece.”

“Yes, very interesting indeed,” a new voice responded.

Big Macintosh looked over at the newcomer to see yet another white unicorn standing amongst them. The stallion showed a blonde mane that seemed to start out straight but became wavier the further down one looked.

“Why if it isn’t Prince Blueblood himself,” Fancy Pants exclaimed. “I’m delighted that you’ve decided to come after all.”

The prince gave a small chuckle. “I wouldn’t dare miss it.” He turned to the mare amongst the group, “And a good evening to you Rarity.”

“Good evening, Blueblood. I haven’t seen you since I christened your yacht.” Rarity said with a smile. Big Macintosh couldn’t help but find it similar to the kinds of smiles friendly enemies would give each other. The kind of smile the Apples and the Cakes would give each other before Applejack and Pinkie Pie became friends. A kind of forced smile that was only half there. He didn’t think of it much more after that, it wasn’t any of his business anyway.

“By the way,” Rarity continued, “I’d like you to meet-“

“As I was saying,” Blueblood interrupted her as he gestured towards the painting, “Notice how the artist used negative space to draw the eye directly to the center of the canvas. And the high contrasting diagonal of warm colors serves to partition the space equally, giving the overall work not only a sense of tension but a sense of constancy as well. Don’t you agree, Fancy Pants?”

Fancy Pants looked at the painting for a moment before slowly nodding his head. “Very astute observations, prince.” Then, much to everyone’s surprise, he turned towards Big Mac, “You’ve been awfully quiet, Mr. Apple. What do you think?”

And just like that the three white unicorns all gazed at the red farmpony along with the several other ponies gathered around. Big Mac contemplated a moment. Sure, he didn’t want to make a fool of himself, but with his accent it already seemed a forgone conclusion. Finally he decided to just tell the truth and get the humiliation over with.

“Well it looks mighty pretty, but Ah gotta wonder if it’s even finished yet.”

Silence filled the room like an airborne disease, which allowed Big Macintosh plenty of time to brace himself for the laughter that would soon replace it.

And it did.

Fancy Pants was the first and then Prince Blueblood, his even louder. Soon everyone else followed suit, as if their own personal echo. It came to the point where the only two who didn’t share in the laughter were Big Macintosh, who simply kept his usual stoic expression, and Rarity, who had her hoof to her forehead.

Finally the uproar died down. Fancy Pants approached Big Macintosh with a smile before placing a hoof on his shoulder. “Rarity you never said your friend had such a sharp wit.”

“Excuse me?” both Rarity and Blueblood said in unison.

Fancy Pants didn’t seem to hear them. “I agree, it’s much too minimalistic for my tastes as well." The surrounding ponies, who just seconds before had been laughing at Big Mac, now all murmured their agreement. "Let me show you the next one.” He led Big Macintosh to another painting, “I should introduce you to Black Gold one of these days, you two would get along splendidly.”

From then on Rarity, Prince Blueblood, and a throng of other ponies followed Fancy Pants and Big Macintosh as they made their way around the room to look at the other pieces of art.

It didn’t take long to figure out the dynamic the mustachioed unicorn had with the rest of the ponies. While he and Big Macintosh conversed of the various paintings and sculptures, the other ponies would always agree with Fancy Pants. It was, to Big Mac, a degree of agreement usually unobtainable by the average pony.

The two arrived at the last painting, a large abstract of clouded shapes of various shades of blues and purples. Hidden amongst the darks, towards the upper left of the canvas, was a tiny uneven touch of orange.

“How curious,” Fancy Pants said as he examined the artwork, “it’s as if there is a hopeful touch of color amongst all the depressing shades.”

“Seems pretty lonely ta me.” Big Macintosh said.

“I see your point, Mr. Apple,” the unicorn said, “it could very well create a feeling of isolation as well as hope.” The two looked at the painting for a moment longer before Fancy Pants ceased the silence, “Which exhibit would you like to see next? Seems only fitting that you choose, you obviously have an expertise in art.”

Big Macintosh had to bite his tongue lest he start laughing. He composed himself and answered, “Ah sorta wanna see Haystacks if that’s a’right with ya. Last Ah checked they were here, right?”

“Haystacks?” Prince Blueblood said from behind Fancy Pants. “You mean those paintings of nothing but…haystacks?”

“That’d be the one.”

“Hmm,” Fancy Pants hummed, “interesting choice. Let’s be off then, that exhibit is on the other side of the museum on the second floor.” He stepped to lead the way when a brown suited unicorn carrying a plate of what looked like berry tarts approached Fancy Pants and whispered something in his ear.

“Oh, she’s here already?” he said, and the waiter nodded in response.

Fancy Pants turned towards the group. “I’m sorry to leave you, but there is a very special guest I must attend to. I’m sure Prince Blueblood would be happy to escort you to the exhibit, right Blueblood?”

“Delighted,” The prince said, a bit of sarcasm leaking through. Fancy Pants didn’t seem to notice and only smiled his thanks before leaving. The popular unicorn’s absence had a particular effect on the crowd. Each pony took their leave one by one, as if Fancy Pants had been the glue holding them together. Soon the only ones remaining were Big Macintosh, Rarity, and Prince Blueblood.

“You know,” the prince said to the other two, “I’d be happy to guide you but I’m feeling a might parched. Would you mind fetching me some wine, Apple?” he chuckled, though Big Mac kept his usual expression.

Rarity, however, was not so passive. She cleared her throat with a regal air before turning to Big Macintosh, “Mr. Apple, I would be very grateful if you would be so kind as to bring me something to drink while I have a few choice words with the prince.” She smiled and the farmpony couldn’t help smiling back.

“Ah would love ta Miss Rarity.” He silently thanked her for giving him the chance to wander alone for a bit. As he left, the last thing he saw of the two was Rarity giving the prince a look so ridden with anger Big Mac would have preferred taking another trip into the Everfree Forest than be on the receiving end of that gaze. By the look on his face, the prince thought the same.

Big Mac smiled and started walking around the museum, idly looking for a waiter, bar, or table where he could find some refreshments. He took his time, however, sure that Rarity wasn’t really thirsty.

As he passed a few rooms holding more exhibits, he spotted a couple of glass doors leading out to what seemed like a courtyard. Fresh air never sounded as good as the moment Big Mac headed for those doors. Once outside he breathed in deeply, enjoying the earthy scent of dirt and grass.

Around the courtyard were several hedges bent into curves reminiscent of a maze one might find on a children’s menu at a restaurant. Several stone benches and fluffed pillows dotted the landscape, mostly arranged around topiaries or sculptures. The light chatter of conversing ponies buzzed through the air as Big Mac explored a bit, a satisfied sigh escaping him as he felt the grass beneath his hooves.

He had to admit this wasn’t all that bad. Sure there were a few hiccups along the way, but all in all he felt that nothing had gone as bad as it could have been. He even dared to say that the whole experience had actually been worthwhile. He got to see a few interesting buildings, not to mention a play that wasn’t boring at all. Stranger still, he and Rarity were actually getting along with each other and that was a miracle in and of itself.

“Well that paintin’ sure be perty.”

Big Mac ears twitched as he heard the sound of a pony speaking in an unnaturally low voice followed by a cacophony of laughter. He looked around to see no one in his secluded part of the courtyard. It took him a second to realize that the voices came from the other side of a hedge to his right.

“Spot on, spot on,” another voice chimed in. “To think a pony like Rarity would bring him here.”

“Agreed,” another said, “does she honestly think she could dress up a country bumpkin in a fine suit and pass him off as a sophisticated member of society? She really should know better than that.”

“Fancy Pants seems to be rather taken with him, though,” the second voice said.

“True,” the first voice said, “but the simpleton won’t be in his good graces for long. Give it time and we can just forget about him.” The others muttered their agreement.

Big Mac gritted his teeth, their words burning a hole in him. But it wasn’t because of what they said about him. Heck, he had been called everything from laid-back, boring, slow –in all its meanings- and even stiff. They even got his accent wrong, sure he was a bit country but it wasn’t as if he was ‘ahyuckin’ and ‘garshin’ his way down Mane Street.

No, what really took a toll on him was what they said about Rarity. Suddenly a kind gesture to a farmpony seemed like a self-destructive act that risked her reputation and social standing in Canterlot, a place she admired like no other. He couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand what effect his presence had, couldn’t stand that he had actually felt like he was…he shook his head, that didn’t really matter now.

He plodded away, suddenly feeling much heavier. Without really thinking he stepped through those glass double doors and back inside the museum. He passed waiters serving tiny snacks he couldn’t pronounce, guests admiring famous pictures he would never understand, and archways of stone he had no business being under. Until finally he reached the solid wood door he had entered from. He barely touched a hoof to the door when someone interrupted him.

“Mr. Apple? Where are you off to?” Fancy Pants asked, his eyes darting from the hoof on the door to Big Mac.

The red pony couldn’t look him in the eye, “Ah’m leavin’.”

“Without Rarity? That’s rather rude of you.”

“Ah know but,” he thought back to the voices in the courtyard, “Ah don’t belong here and Ah can live with that. But Ah can’t stay when it’ll only hurt Miss Rarity’s reputation here. No point in her being dragged down just ‘cause she feels she’s got ta make something up to me.”

Fancy Pants only sighed before gesturing towards the inner space of the building. Big Mac turned around to see the same thing he saw all evening: a bunch of ponies walking about and looking at art. He looked over at Fancy Pants, waiting for him to explain.

“Most of these ponies, not all mind you but most, care nothing but of things like reputation, rank, and connections.” The unicorn looked at Big Mac, “Miss Rarity is not one of those ponies and I had thought you didn’t hold such things in high regard either.”

Big Macintosh stayed silent for a few minutes, letting Fancy Pant's words and his own thoughts percolate, “Ah don’t.”

“Then come, I take it you still haven’t seen your paintings of choice. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here right now. Let’s rejoin Rarity and the prince and see them together, yes?”

“But what about yer special guest?” Big Mac asked.

Fancy Pants chuckled. “She could only stay for a few moments, such is the busy life of a fashion model.”

Big Macintosh nodded before a thought came to him, “Say, ya know where Ah can get some wine?”

Fancy Pants smiled at him. “Sorry, Mr. Apple. But the museum stopped serving wine at these functions quite some time ago. Some of the guest get rather rowdy.”

Big Mac smiled back before leading Fancy Pants back to where he left Rarity and Prince Blueblood, which didn't take long at all. Rarity had on a smug grin while the prince looked a bit worse for wear.

As the earth pony and unicorn approached the waiting pair, Prince Blueblood took a step towards Big Macintosh. He cleared his throat weakly before speaking, “Mr. Apple, Rarity explained to me, rather clearly, how boorish my words were earlier. I hope you can…forgive me.” He said those last words as if getting an awful taste out of his mouth.

Big Mac looked over to Rarity, who gave him a knowing nod. He turned back to the prince and chose his words very carefully, “T’weren’t nothin’.”

The prince only forced a smile and, before things could get awkward, Fancy Pants stepped into the conversation.

“If that’s all settled then I believe we have an exhibit to view.” He wasted no time in leading the other three through the museum. They passed several other rooms and ponies until finally they arrived at an empty room that dwarfed all the others Big Mac had ever been in, large enough to comfortably enclose both his home and barn all at once.

Archways lined the walls of the room, revealing even more halls and chambers beyond their curves. Stacked upon these arches was another floor of still more catenaries linked by a lavish staircase almost as wide as the room itself. It rose from the opposite side of the room before stopping at a landing where it split to continue towards both sides.

A sky motif decorated the ceiling. At its very center were half a moon and half a sun joined together to form a perfect sphere. On each ones respective side was a painting of their sky. Stars glittered the moon’s while clouds decorated the sun’s.

While the two unicorns from Canterlot continued on their way, Rarity and Big Macintosh stayed behind a moment to admire the grand architecture. It didn’t take long for Rarity to get her fill and catch up to the unicorn stallions while Big Macintosh stayed for just a few seconds longer, absently spinning in place to capture a full view. But soon he joined the other three and the group made their way up the staircase without many words between them.

Once on the second floor, Fancy Pants led them through one of the archways and into a circular room much smaller than the one they had entered from. It was well lit, allowing a clear view of the twenty-something paintings arranged about eye level.

Each one was remarkably unique in its similarity to all the others, and each one featured a haystack or two amongst a field. But each one had a slight change that made all the difference.

Big Macintosh nodded as he saw those paintings. Slowly he made his way to the first of them and gazed at the blurred snow-covered mounds amongst a field of white, the faint outline of buildings hazed in the distance.

“So this is Haystacks?” Rarity asked as she stood next to the red stallion and looked at the same painting.

“Yes, by Cloud Monet. One of the Impressionists, I believe.” Fancy Pants said, joining the two in front of the painting.

“But what’s the point?” Prince Blueblood also took a place amongst the rest, “Why nothing but stacks of hay? And why paint them over and over again?”

Big Mac silently moved to the next painting of a single haystack mostly silhouetted in deep reds and blacks, the murky sunrise behind it filling the sky in orange and slight grays. He looked at it for a moment before smiling.

“Ah don’t know.” He moved on to the next painting, this one featuring shades of gold as the light from the low sun entered from the right.

“You don’t know?” the prince said, utterly exasperated, “Of all the ignorant, senseless-“ he stopped mid-tirade when both Rarity and Fancy Pants gave him a not so gentle nudge to the side.

“Well then, Mr. Apple. Care to give us a guess? Surely you must have given it some thought if you were so eager to see these paintings.” Fancy Pants lightly nudged.

Big Macintosh thought for a moment as he tried to find the right words to explain why paintings with such simple subject matter and with such blurred execution caught his interest on such a basic level. He regretted his less than stellar skills of elocution as he took a look around, as if the art might provide the answer for him. It didn’t.

“It’s…” he shook his head with a sigh of defeat, “A’right, when y’all see a haystack whaddya see?”

“Well I for one have never seen an actual haystack,” Prince Blueblood said with a hint of pride.

Big Mac rolled his eyes before turning to look at Rarity.

“I suppose,” she said slowly, “I see a stack of hay, redundant as that sounds. I have to admit, I really don’t give it much thought.”

The farmpony nodded his head towards the canvas-filled walls. “Ah like ta think that the painter saw a haystack one day an’ decided he wanted ta see more. Like he wanted ta see it in ev’ry light, in ev’ry season, in ev’ry angle. When everypony saw just a borin’ ol’ haystack, he wanted ta see…ev’rything it actually was.”

“Not many ponies will do that,” Fancy Pants said as he looked at the paintings a bit more closely.

“Nnope.”

-*-

Big Macintosh and Rarity left shortly after that, in part because of the quickly aging night and also because of the resemblance of one artistic fixture to one of a more porcelain and private nature. They bid their goodbyes to Prince Blueblood and Fancy Pants, the latter more pleasantly so, and left the museum in silence.

The streets of Canterlot remained well lit as squares of light cast from the building's windows created a distorted checker pattern on the ground. The streets themselves were as bare as the inky black of the night sky, allowing the two some semblance of privacy.

Big Mac looked over at the unicorn mare and saw a slight shiver, the light fabric of her sundress doing little to ward off the chill of the early spring night. Without a word, he slipped off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Rarity smiled as she pulled its collar further up her neck.

“I should paint you,” she said out of the blue.

“ ’scuse me, Miss Rarity?”

“I should paint you,” she repeated with a small smile, “in ev’ry light, in ev’ry season, in ev’ry angle.”

He couldn’t help but softly smile as he thought of a change of subject.

“If ya don’t mind me askin’, seems ta be a story between you and the prince.”

“Well it’s not much of a story. Our first meeting ended horribly on account of his less than civilized behavior. Though ever since I’ve become friends with Fancy Pants he seems to act much nicer, if only to me.”

Big Mac nodded, sensing Rarity’s reluctance on delving too deeply into the story. It wasn’t any of his business, after all.

“I’m sorry if he offended you,” she added and Big Mac couldn’t help but give a light-hearted laugh.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it Miss Rarity. Like Ah said earlier, Ah’m used to it.” He smiled, hoping to reassure her. It didn’t have the effect he had expected and instead she glared at him.

“Big Macintosh, this is not something one should be used to. There is an expected level of decency all ponies should have when interacting with other ponies, no matter how lowly they may seem. Whether it’s a waiter or a prince, nopony should ever talk down to you.”

The stallion was quiet for a moment before smiling. “Yer one heck of a friend,” he whispered.

Rarity smiled back and stepped a bit closer to him.

The two continued on down the street and towards the train station. Neither of them said a word and chose instead to simply enjoy the other’s company. Big Macintosh honestly liked walking with her, a great change from working alone on the farm. He couldn’t help but wonder if he might be going soft. But then again, maybe going soft wasn’t all that bad.

The train ride back home was uneventful. Save for the gentle rocking of the train lulling Rarity to sleep, causing Big Mac to tense a bit when she rested her head against him. He didn’t dare move, not even when a stream of dribble started moistening his sleeve.

Finally the train stopped and jerked Rarity awake. She blushed when she saw the mess she made of his shirt. Big Macintosh, however, didn’t give her a chance to apologize before he helped her up and headed for the exit.

They continued their silence as the pair walked down the streets of Ponyville, the city much darker than Canterlot had been. So dark, in fact, that Big Mac could actually see a few stars dotting the sky above.

Soon the Carousel Boutique came into view and as they made it to its front door the silence ended.

“Thank you for escorting me home, Big Macintosh,” the unicorn said.

“Yer welcome,” he said and after a moment added, “Ya know Ah actually had fun today. Ah admit, Ah didn’t think Ah would but…” he trailed off.

Rarity smiled. “I had fun too. We should definitely do this again sometime.” Her horn glowed with magic as she lifted the stallion’s jacket and gave it back to him.

He didn’t say a word as he slung the coat across his back, only nodding his agreement. With a final goodnight Rarity slipped inside, leaving Big Macintosh to turn around and head for Sweet Apple Acres.

This was his favorite time to be in Ponyville, if only because he could see the stars most clearly. But as he noticed how far away the stars seemed and how empty the streets were, a new feeling began to creep its way into his mind.

He chuckled the thought away and attributed it to the late hour. Slowly, he continued his way back home.

4. Numbskulls

Numbskulls

The two eldest of the Apple siblings stood at attention in the farmhouse’s kitchen, the smallest rays of morning light sneaking in through the windows. Granny Smith, in the middle of a lecture, paced back and forth in front of the siblings. The speech consisted of the usual things that preceded any of the elder pony’s trips to family that lasted more than a day. Things like what chores needed to be done in her absence and what preserves needed to be moved from the barn to the cellar, namely all of them.

These things were so usual, in fact, that Big Macintosh had a hard time keeping his eyes open throughout. It didn’t help that he had stayed up the night before reading up on his farmer’s almanac.

But his eyes shot open as he felt a sharp jab at his side. He looked over to Applejack, busy trying not to look at him, as he smiled. He made sure Granny’s focus was elsewhere when he brought a hoof to push Applejack back, causing her to lose balance for a moment before finding her footing. She stifled a chuckle as she pushed him back, though it wasn’t even enough to sway him.

“Do Ah make myself clear?” Granny Smith barked at them like a drill sergeant.

“Yes Granny,” the Apple siblings monotoned.

The matriarch smiled. “Good. Now Ah’ll only be gone fer ‘bout a week. You two take care each other and Applebloom, ya hear?”

“Yes Granny.”

Satisfied, Granny Smith beckoned for Applejack to come with her, and the two left for the train station together. Which left Big Macintosh to himself for the next half hour or so before Applebloom woke up. With a small sigh he brought out a few pots and pans to get breakfast ready.

-*-

After breakfast and after Big Macintosh dropped Applebloom off at school with a hug, the farmpony made his way back home. Having arrived, he spotted Applejack already entering the barn, no doubt ready to move the preserves. With a small sigh he wondered what he could do today that would kill a few hours. That’s when he saw a familiar sight.

The dead tree by the farmhouse stood out in stark contrast to the vibrant green leaves and pink-white blossoms of the apple orchard. Its branches remained barren of both, and its trunk had already begun to rot and soften. Its roots were the worst, tangled and twisted above the surface of the earth like a mass of pythons fighting for a meal. Not a day passed without someone tripping over one of the gnarled monstrosities.

As Big Macintosh looked up at the lifeless husk he couldn’t help but think of what a shame it was. This was one of the first trees Granny Smith had planted when she first settled to what would become Ponyville and its size showed its age. The tree dwarfed Big Mac and even the other trees in the orchard. There was a time when he couldn’t even imagine an apple tree growing to this size, but there it stood at least ten ponies high and three ponies across.

Grand or not, this tree had to come down. But Big Mac wouldn’t be in any condition to do anything about it for another week. At least, that’s what Applejack told him. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t prepare for that day. And if he needed to make sure that the rope could properly wrap around the tree while still giving him enough slack to tie it to his yolk, well that couldn’t be helped. And if he just so happened to want to test his strength, just the tiniest bit, then that couldn’t be helped either. And if, in some strange circumstance, that little bit of strength was enough to bring down the whole tree, well, that couldn’t be called his fault. So with a self assured nod he made his way to the barn to fetch some rope.

Then his chin hit the ground with earth-shattering force.

-*-

“Oh jeez, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was trying out my suicide dive and- Are you okay? Please tell me your okay.”

When the blackness receded and Big Mac felt some sense return to him, he saw a sky blue mare with a rainbow colored mane restlessly circle above him. He felt a small draft brush against his coat with every flap of her wings. He groaned, but not from the pain he felt.

He got up slowly, even though he couldn’t remember ever lying down. His backside rose with ease though his chest required much more effort. Finally he tried to raise his head, but it stuck firmly into the earth. He narrowed his eyes and with a great pull finally untrapped his muzzle, revealing a small crater from where his chin kissed the ground. He carefully tested his jaw, rolling it around like a cow chewing cud. It was sore, that was to be expected, but it didn’t feel broken. The rest of his head felt like someone had knocked him silly with a two by four, especially a rather tender spot between his ears. Carefully, he twisted his head and didn’t stop until he felt and heard the satisfying cracks of his cervical vertebrae run up his neck.

He looked at the mare now hovering at his eye level, her forehead covered in a purple bruise visible even through her coat. He could see the worry in her eyes even though by all accounts she should have been in as much pain as he was, if not even more.

“You okay Miss Dash? Ya don’t look too good.”

The pegasus grinned. “You don’t look too hot yourself, big guy.”

Big Mac only shrugged a shoulder. “Ah’m fine. The Apple family’s always been known fer two things, apples and thick skulls. But are ya sure yer feelin’ a’right?”

She laughed as she glided over to him and, for some reason Big Mac could simply not fathom, landed to sit on his muzzle. His head sunk a bit at her weight though her flapping wings ensured that she wasn’t too heavy. Still, all he could see were bright blue legs in front of his eyes. Not to mention a certain aspect of this position that made him very uncomfortable.

“I told ya, I’m fine. I am, after all, the toughest,”

“Miss Dash.”

“fastest,”

“Miss Dash.”

“most amazing,”

“Miss Dash.”

“What?” She finally stopped stroking her ego and brought her eyes level to his, which required quite a bit of flexibility and balance on her part.

“Yer backside’s on my nose.”

“What?”

He rolled his eyes before sharply blowing air out of his snout, sending Rainbow Dash’s colorful tail waving in its wake. She leapt off of him with all the speed she was famous for, a sheepish grin decorating her face as she brought her front hooves behind her.

Big Mac nodded his thanks and continued towards the barn, hoping to finish his plans before he got wrapped up in any more distractions. Rainbow Dash, however, didn’t seem ready to allow him that privilege.

“So what’re you up to?” she asked as she followed him while keeping to the air. Big Mac looked at her for a moment, wondering if she might have hit her head harder than she thought. Usually she’d be off getting into an argument with his sister right about now and not trying to strike a conversation with him.

“Gettin’ ready ta take down that dead tree.” He tilted his head towards what might as well just have been an upright log before continuing on his way.

“That sucks. What was its name?”

Big Mac stopped in his tracks so suddenly he almost fell over himself. He turned around and stared at the pegasus, his eyes immediately drawn to her injured head. “Let’s go to the hospital,” he said as he started walking in the opposite direction and towards Ponyville.

Rainbow Dash quickly landed in his path. “I’m fine, seriously. I just asked ‘cause Applejack named that one tree we brought to Appleoosa. Bloomberg, I think. So, you know, I was wondering if you did that too.”

The farmpony looked at the pegasus, then to the apple orchard, and finally back to Rainbow. “They’re jus’ trees, Miss Dash,” he said as he turned around and continued towards the barn. He didn’t get far, however, as the mare again landed in front of him.

“Uh…huh,” she said slowly, “I thought you woulda been more, I don’t know, sentimental?”

Big Macintosh sighed. “Miss Dash, can Ah help ya with somethin’?”

“Jeez, testy much?” She lifted off and hovered in the air, a hoof in her chin as she thought. “Oh I know what’ll cheer ya up. How about I show you some of my sweet moves? I don’t think you’ve ever seen me perform.”

“Ah think Ah’ve seen plenty,” he said as he lightly rubbed the lump on his head.

“Come on, I was practicing a new move, besides the sun was in my eyes and there was this weird updraft and plus there were these flock of geese that got in my way. But I would have done it perfectly if it wasn't for those things.” She gave him a grin wider than her mouth and did a small loop-the-loop in the air. When Big Mac’s expression remained unchanged she continued, “How about I show you how I can clear the sky in-“

“Ten seconds flat.” Big Mac said dryly, trying once again to reach the barn. But Rainbow Dash stopped him.

“Yeah that’s it. It’s a classic, believe me.”

The red stallion sighed in defeat as he finally sat on his haunches and looked at her. “Eeyup, that’s mighty impressive.”

“Sure is. And that’s not even my best trick. Heck, I was doing that since I was a filly.” Rainbow Dash said, proudly rubbing her hoof on her chest.

Big Macintosh looked up at her for a moment. “Wait, ya been able ta do it since you were little?”

“Yup, since I was just a tiny foal.”

“But Miss Dash,” the red stallion said slowly while trying to keep the smile out of his voice, “if ya could clear the sky in ten seconds since you were a filly, don’t that mean ya haven’t gotten any faster since then?”

“Uh…well…I,” she stuttered but quickly recovered, “of course not. I could do it in five seconds. I mean, if there were clouds in the sky I’d show you. But that’s an old trick anyway. How about I show you,” she stretched out her forelegs above her in a display of grandeur and in a resounding voice said, “a Sonic Rainboom!”

Big Mac remained less than impressed. “That’s okay Miss Dash.”

“You…you don’t want to see a Sonic Rainboom?” she said, her limbs falling limply in the air. “Have you ever even seen one before? Don’t you know how amazing they are?”

“Eeyup, both of them.”

“Wait, both? You saw the one I did when I was a filly.”

“Eeyup, everypony in Ponyville saw that one.”

“And the one in Cloudsdale?”

“Eeyup, hard ta miss even from over here.”

“And you don’t want to see another one?”

“Nnope.”

Rainbow Dash looked at him, as if waiting for him to go on. But Big Macintosh really had nothing more to say. Both of them waited the other out, he waiting patiently while she just hovered in front of him. He couldn’t help but enjoy annoying her, if only because he found it delightfully distracting from his inability to do any work. But after a while Big Mac returned his sight to the discoloration on her head. He got up and, instead of walking towards the barn, made his way to the farmhouse. The pegasus followed him silently, not willing to lose the quiet game.

It wasn’t until the pair entered the empty house that finally Rainbow Dash sighed.

“Because…?” she said, starting the sentence for him.

Big Macintosh only smiled as he went to the kitchen and rummaged around one of the drawers for a clean rag. He finally found one big enough and laid it flat on the table.

“Ah got my reasons,” he said as he opened the fridge.

She groaned and slapped her hoof on her forehead, accidentally touching her bruise and yelping in so much pain that her wings froze in place. She hit the floor with a thump.

“Stay still.” Big Mac said before grabbing the now knotted and ice-filled rag within his teeth and gently bringing it to rest on her head. Rainbow Dash winced as she felt the sudden chill.

“Thanks but,” she said, getting the bag of ice off of her once Big Mac let it go, “I’m tough enough not to need it.”

“Ah believe ya, but that don’t mean ya can’t try ta make it feel better.”

“I don’t see you with one,” she said, gesturing a hoof towards his own bruised cranium.

He shrugged. “It don’t hurt too much.”

“Well mine doesn’t hurt either.”

Big Mac looked at the dark purple bruise on the mare’s head once again. “Ah really doubt that, Miss Dash.”

Rainbow’s eyes narrowed, her sudden focused glare directed straight at the red pony in front of her. Too late did Big Macintosh realize how his innocent statement of genuine concern could be taken as a taunt. He mentally sighed as he prepared himself for whatever brazenness soon to follow.

“Hey, I’m just as tough as you, maybe even tougher,” she said as she moved towards the kitchen table. “And if you don’t believe me then let’s hoof wrassle, right here right now.” She placed a foreleg on the table, bent and ready for the ultimate competition of strength.

Big Mac could only sigh. “Aw heck, Miss Dash, Ah didn’t mean nothing by it,” he said gently.

“How about we make it interesting, then? Thirty bits says that I can beat you,” she said, remaining unmoved from the table.

He rolled his eyes, knowing full well that she wasn’t going to give up any time soon. Slowly he made his way to the other side and raised a hoof to meet hers. If she wanted to humiliate herself there was really nothing he could do about it, except end it as soon as possible.

There wasn’t a count to three or anything of the sort. The moment their hooves touched Rainbow Dash exerted as much force as she could against him. But, just as he expected, it wasn’t close to enough to move him. He was about ready to finish the game and collect his bits when something in her expression made him pause.

Her eyes were strained in concentration, fixated on their locked hooves, and her teeth were gritted in a determined snarl. It was a much different face than his own bored features, but it proved very familiar to the eldest Apple sibling. He smiled for a quick second. Slowly, their hooves moved until they finally rested on the flat surface, blue above red.

“Hah!” Rainbow Dash raised her hooves in triumph. “I told ya I was tough,” she said with a smug grin.

“Eeyup, ya got me. Ah’ll go get those bits.” Big Mac said as he moved away from the table.

“Nah don’t worry about it. It must’ve been bad enough to lose,” she laughed. “Heck, I’ll even keep it a secret. Wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation, right?”

Big Mac smiled. “That’s mighty kind of ya, Miss Dash.”

“Woah, you’re not getting off that easy,” she said, beating her wings a couple of times to take to the air. “First you have to say ‘Miss Dash is the most amazing, toughest, strongest pony in all of Equestria and I can never, ever, hope to reach the sheer levels of mind-blowing awesomeness extruding from her every pore.”

“Nnope.”

She slumped to the floor, “Alright, how about just ‘Miss Dash is super awesome.’”

“Nnope.”

“Oh come on, at least give me something.”

Big Mac rubbed his chin for a moment before looking at the cyan pegasus with a smile. “How ‘bout, ‘Miss Dash is one heck of a pony.’”

“That’ll work,” she said with a smirk.

He nodded. “Now will ya humor me and put some ice on that bruise?” he asked before grabbing the knotted handkerchief in his teeth and holding it out towards her.

Rainbow looked at it for a moment before turning her eyes towards the pony holding the knotted handkerchief. Finally she gave a sigh, took the ice, and placed it on her head.

“Fine,” she said, “but only because you asked. I told you I don’t really need it.”

Big Mac gave her an affirmative grunt as he made his way towards the living room, but before he could get past the doorway the sound of an opening door stopped him.

“Hey, Mac, ya in here?” Applejack’s voice resonated through the house.

“Eeyup,” he called out. A moment later his sister entered the kitchen with a saddlebag overstuffed with mason jars of apple preserves. She was so busy making sure they didn’t fall out that she didn't notice the condition of her brother or her friend, or that Rainbow Dash was even there. It didn’t last long, however, as once she made sure every jar was safely secured she turned her focus to the red colt in front of her.

“Land sakes, what in the heck happened to yer head?” she asked before she finally noticed Rainbow Dash, who gave her a nervous grin as the ice pack sat on her like a crown.

Applejack brought a hoof to her forehead. “Nevermind. So what was it this time, Rainbow? Sun in yer eyes? Updraft? Geese?”

“Nnope, she used all three.” Big Macintosh answered.

“All three? Must’ve been one heck of a crash.”

“You have no idea,” he said with a smile.

“Alright, alright we get it, thanks.” Rainbow Dash said as she moved between the two, as if hoping to physically interrupt their conversation.

Applejack chuckled. “Good thing ya got that hard head of yers, right Rainbow? Must’ve been pretty painful knockin’ into Big Mac,” she said as she absently adjusted the strap on her saddlebag.

Big Mac quietly took the saddlebag strap in his mouth and lifted the pack onto the table, making sure none of the jars could roll off. He lingered for a bit, hoping to stay out of the mares’ conversation. Mostly because their talks always got pretty heated no matter what they were talking about.

“It doesn’t hurt at all,” Rainbow Dash said. “In fact, I bet Big Mac’s in more pain right now than me.”

The red pony stifled a laugh. The two friends looked at him and he, in turn, brought his gaze back to the jars before taking the saddlebag onto his back.

“Ah’ll jus’ put these in the cellar,” he said quickly. He didn’t even give Applejack any time to tell him to be careful before he was out of the kitchen, leaving the two to continue their conversation in private. He left the house, circled around to the cellar’s entrance, and descended into the dark room.

As he took his time sorting the jars of preserves onto one of the many wooden shelves, Big Mac let his mind wander to the rainbow pegasus. He wondered how long she could keep their ‘secret’. Not that he questioned her ability to keep one, but everyone knew how much that filly liked to brag. However, while Rainbow Dash remained a wild card, he knew exactly what his little sister would do if her friend let that secret slip.

So he wasn’t at all surprised when he heard his sister’s laughter loud and clear even from the cellar. He smiled as he began to ascend the stairs only to find the cyan pegasus atop the last step, blocking the exit. Once again, Big Mac found that reports of her speed were greatly on the nose. She stood at a partial silhouette, her usually colorful mane subdued by shadows. Her furrowed eyes stood out the most, the dark pink irises standing out amongst everything else.

She’d actually look threatening if she wasn’t still wearing a leaky ice pack.

Big Mac couldn’t help but lightly chuckle from the bottom of the stairs. “So much fer keepin’ it a secret.”

“I want a rematch, and don’t even think about holding back this time.”

He sighed and remained silent. He climbed the stairs and stopped a few steps below Rainbow Dash. The two locked eyes, her intense glare against his half-lidded stare. They stayed there for a few moments before Big Mac finally spoke.

“ ’scuse me, Miss Dash, Ah’d like ta continue this conversation in the fresh air.”

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes as she stepped aside. He nodded his thanks as he walked past her and inhaled deeply. “Now what were ya sayin’?” he idly asked in order to pass the weight of the conversation back to the pegasus.

“I want a rematch,” she said, a bit louder.

“Ya know, it’s usually the loser that asks fer a rematch,” he said. Honestly, this wasn’t the first time he ever had this conversation. Of course, the last time was a few years ago when he was a young colt.

“Yeah, well, usually the winner wins fair and square.” Rainbow Dash said as she approached him.

“An’ ya didn’t?”

“Of course I didn’t. I mean, for Celestia’s sake, a competition is supposed to be two ponies giving everything to win. If you’re the best, you win. If you’re not, you lose. Simple as that.” Rainbow Dash gave a frustrated groan. “This is worse than when you threw that poker game.”

Big Mac had to think about that for a moment. “If Ah remember right, you and AJ were telling us ta just split the pot.”

“At least then it would’ve just been a tie. And even a tie would be better than just winning ‘cause of dumb luck, or ‘cause the pony you’re up against didn’t even try. When you win you’re supposed to feel like you beat the toughest, strongest, fastest, and most awesome and because of that you become the toughest, strongest, fastest, and most awesome.” Her voice became louder and louder the more she spoke, until finally she was practically yelling at him. Big Mac, all the while, just looked calmly at her.

“Sorry, Miss Dash, but ya won fair and square. There ain’t no way Ah can beat you.”

Rainbow looked at him with narrowed eyes before approaching him. The two locked sights once again.

“Well how the heck do you know if you’ve never really tried?” she poked his chest. “Are you scared or something?” Poke. “Afraid that I’ll beat you?” Poke. “Afraid you’re not strong enough?” Poke.

He smiled at her taunting and simply shrugged. “Oh Ah know Ah’m strong enough, and please don’t take that as a boast. Ah’m just statin’ a simple fact. But Ah could be the strongest pony in the world and Ah still wouldn’t be able ta beat ya, Miss Dash.”

“Why?”

“Ah got my reasons.”

Rainbow Dash groaned. “I just don’t get you. I thought you’d be as competitive as Applejack, but you’re totally the opposite. And do you know how many pegasi would give up their left wing to see me perform a Sonic Rainboom? It’s not even like you’ve never even seen one, either. At least then I can kinda get why you wouldn’t be so excited about it. But you have! And you still don’t want to see one much cooler than either one I’ve done before.”

Big Mac could only smile at her quick judgment. “Miss Dash, no offense, but Ah don’t think anythin’ you can do will be as good as the first one Ah ever saw.”

Rainbow Dash just narrowed her eyes at him. With a whirlwind flap of her wings she ascended while Big Mac shielded his eyes from the blustered dust. She soared higher and higher, and as she did Big Mac’s interest plummeted lower and lower. With a bored grunt he continued his long forgotten mission of grabbing some damn rope from the barn. Though he had to take a second to remember what he needed it for.

He barely entered the barn when he spotted Applejack idly twirling about a lasso above her head. Big Mac watched her for a moment before spotting a coiled piece of rope hanging at eye-level on a nail nearby. He maneuvered himself to catch the wound rope on one his harness’ pegs and turned to leave. But before he could get out of the door a small tug around his neck made him turn his head back. Applejack’s lasso was wrapped around his collar’s free peg, its other end clenched in her teeth.

She dropped her end. “Where ya going with that rope?” she asked, as if she had caught Applebloom sneaking a cookie before dinner.

“Ah’m taking it to that giant dead tree out front,” he said simply, turning to continue his walk out the barn. A quick stomp of Applejack’s hoof on his impromptu leash, however, stopped him in his tracks. He sighed and turned to face her again.

“Oh no,” Applejack said, “Ah know that trick. You bring that rope over and ya won’t stop ‘til that tree’s on the ground.”

“Aw AJ, Ah would never do that while injured and all.”

Applejack didn’t say anything and only gave her big brother a suspicious glare.

Big Mac smiled softly. “If ya can’t trust yer older brother then who can ya trust?”

“Nice try. Now put that rope back.”

A disappointed grunt escaped him as he returned the coil of rope to its nail. He turned his head and bit Applejack’s lasso to pull, loosen and free himself of it.

“Ah can’t believe ya went easy on Rainbow Dash,” Applejack said as Big Macintosh headed for the exit, “if ya ask me she coulda used a slice of humble pie.”

He only stopped long enough to give his sister an idle shrug before taking his exit.

-*-

He tried to ignore her. Dear, sweet Celestia he tried to ignore her. It wouldn’t even be such an annoyance if she were any good at snooping or if he knew why she decided to bother him for the second day in a row. But there was no mistaking her dark pink eyes peeking out from a cloud above. Even as Big Mac looked directly at her and sat directly below her, right in front of the farmhouse.

The two were in another stalemate of silence. He could see the logic behind it, how it might be construed by the pegasus as just another game to be won. He played along if only because he found it the most effective method of keeping her from talking. Not that he really minded someone talking to him, only that he really didn’t define needless boasting as talking. Still, he wondered how long she would keep her silence before her usual defeat.

It took two hours.

“How early are ya waking up tomorrow?” she asked, finally gliding down without so much as a flap of her wings. She landed in front of him with more grace than Big Mac would ever expect from the same pegasus that caused the nasty lump on his head yesterday.

“Evenin’ Miss Dash, it’s a pleasure ta see ya too,” he said, unmoved.

She glared at him, he stared back and just like that the two fought another round of silence. Thankfully, the duel only lasted a few minutes this time.

“Answer the question.” Rainbow Dash said.

He hummed in thought for a moment. “Ah s’pose ‘round four in the mornin’.”

“Make it three.”

“ ‘scuse me, Miss Dash?”

She paused to look around the farm and, once she ensured their privacy, crept up closer to Big Mac. She took one last look around before finally speaking.

“There’s gonna be a huge rainstorm tonight and it’s supposed to end at around three in the morning.”

Big Macintosh looked at her, waiting for her to go on. But all he got in return was a smug smirk. He rolled his eyes and decided to concede this round.

“And?”

Rainbow Dash’s smirk turned into a full-fledged grin as she leaned in closer. Though Big Mac took the opportunity to lean farther away from her.

“Don’t you know what happens after a rainstorm?”

Big Macintosh just stared at her for a moment before faking a yawn. “Ah’m gonna go an’ be bored somewhere else, Miss Dash.” He moved to get up, but Rainbow Dash quickly responded to his reverse psychology.

“A rainbow, alright? And when a rainbow happens at night then it’s called a moonbow. It’s pretty much the same thing only the colors are so faint it looks white.” She laughed proudly, “But that’s only because the fastest pony in Equestria never made one.”

The red stallion kept his bored expression though secretly his interest was genuinely, if minimally, piqued. “Yer point, Miss Dash?”

She rolled her eyes. “Look, you think you’ll never see anything as good as my first Sonic Rainboom, right? Well then how about a,” she paused for dramatic effect, “Sonic Moonboom!” She grinned at him, waiting for the farmpony to react. But he didn’t.

Instead he simply kept his blank stare. “Sounds nice.”

“Nice? It’ll blow your mind. Especially since I figured out a way to use the weather factory’s rainbow pools to make it a hundred times more awesome.”

Big Mac nodded absently, keeping up his bored act if only to annoy Rainbow Dash. “Well, that all sounds mighty fine, Miss Dash.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you’re up by three in the morning and you’re standin’ by the path to Ponyville, alright?”

He nodded and, with the conversation at a lull, walked away towards the orchard. He looked back to find Rainbow Dash flying away. A small frown formed on his lips, a part of him hoped she would call his bluff and annoy him for a bit longer. But he shrugged the feeling away and got back to his now normal routine of doing absolutely nothing by lying in the shade of a nearby tree.

Rainbow Dash’s weather forecast came true not long after. The sky darkened as a blanket of dark clouds covered the sky. Bit by bit water began to fall, a drizzle at first but soon it turned into a downpour. With a small sigh Big Macintosh got up and walked through the rain back to his home. As he wiped his muddy hooves on the welcome mat he decided to go up to his room and continue reading his almanac. It seemed to be all he was good for nowadays.

-*-

Big Macintosh awoke with a yawn around five minutes to three. He lifted himself up from his bed with a bit of effort, as if his body had become twice as heavy overnight. The throbbing on his head had calmed to a dull pressure and it no longer exploded in pain with his touch.

With another yawn escaping his lips, Big Mac exited his room and headed downstairs. No one in the Apple family woke up this early during the spring, and so the house was filled with the softened whispers of his little sisters’ light breathing. With practiced steps and a vivid memory of every creaky part of the floor, he made his way outside into the cold night. He took an energizing breath of fresh air and walked to the Ponyville path, now muddied by the rain.

He looked down it both ways, but saw nothing. But that changed a couple of minutes later.

It began as just a speck in the horizon but as it got closer and closer at an impossible speed, Big Mac could see it more clearly. The white glowing stream of light illuminated the night as if the sun had risen early. It was a strange amalgamation of light and liquid almost as if fire had turned to water. It raced down towards Big Mac, hovering inches above the path, and he could swear there was some sort of tidal wave of the same substance following close behind like a train on its tracks. It was several hundred feet tall and completely enveloped the land it traveled through within its bright depths.

The streak of liquid light rushed past him and sent a billowing tempest of air his way, causing him to look away to avoid the dust. Even through his closed eyes he could see the ever-increasing brightness and could hear the deafening rumble of rushing water. He cautioned a look upward, only to see the wall of white sea barrel towards him and sweep him away in its pure nothingness before he could even think of running. He tried to swim to its surface but the blinding light disoriented him. His breath ran out quickly and he desperately opened his mouth to breathe in anything at all.

The color came soon after.

It happened all at once. A simple, single, rainbow colored drop danced in front of his eyes for a brief second before expanding at a tremendous speed and giving the white light its every color. Reds and yellows and blues and greens and every color of the rainbow and every color in between and every shade one could ever imagine swirled in front of him. He had to close his eyes, the brilliance threatening to burn his retinas. But closing his eyes did nothing, and colors danced within his eyelids as if they weren’t there at all.

But this bath of hues and shades couldn’t last forever. As the last of his breath left him and as he felt the strange liquid fill his lungs and as his sight turned to black, a single thought ran through his mind.

This was one hell of a way to die.

-*-

Big Mac jarred awake in a cold sweat around five minutes to three from the most vivid and disturbing dream he ever had. He took a few deep breaths to calm his pounding heart, but to no avail. Only the soft breathing of his sleeping sisters finally calmed him down as the comforting thought of knowing they were safe entered his mind. He shook his head to try to get his senses back to normal before finally getting up from his bed.

With practiced steps he quietly exited the farmhouse, but not without a strong sense of déjà vu. For what felt like the second time he waited patiently by the path to Ponyville. All the while he thought back to his dream. It had felt so real, as if he had really died within that rushing rapid of light. He chuckled at his own ridiculousness; it was only a dream after all.

Then why did he see such a familiar sight barreling down on him from the horizon?

Though he didn’t believe in premonitions in the form of dreams coming to a farmpony, obviously he was going to make an exception this time. He didn’t even wait for the streak of light to reach him before sprinting back inside the house, hollering all the way. He yelled out to his family at the top of his lungs as he bolted upstairs.

Stirred from their sleep by the stallion’s yells, the Apple sisters were already out of their rooms with wide-open eyes staring at their older brother. Applejack confronted him before he could say anything.

“What in tarnation are ya hollerin’ about so dang early in the morning?”

“We gotta get outta here. Now.” He didn’t wait for her to respond before he lifted Applebloom on his back and started running for the exit.

“What’s wrong, Big Mac?” the little filly asked as her big brother practically leapt down the stairs with Applejack following close behind.

“No time, sugarcube.” Big Macintosh grunted as he bolted out the door. Applejack took the opportunity to run alongside him.

“What in the heck are we runnin’ from?” the orange pony yelled at him. Not a moment later did the thundering sound of rushing water wash over them. Applejack’s pupils dilated as she saw the torrential wave of light tower above them. She picked up speed and Big Mac followed suit as Applebloom hung on tight to his yoke.

“What is that thing?” Applejack yelled.

Big Macintosh could feel the sprays of liquid hit his back. He sped up his pace as he mentally cursed himself. He thought he had more time but somehow it had come even sooner. He tried to answer his sister, but the deluge proved too quick. The Apple siblings were swept away into and under the white radiance.

He opened his eyes to see his sisters several feet away from him, struggling to reach the surface. Big Mac tried to reach them, tried to reach out and grab hold of them. But as the white turned chromatic and hundreds of colors surrounded them, he saw them each take an airless breath and close their eyes. He followed them soon after.

-*-

Big Macintosh didn’t even wait to calm down. He raced out of bed and hurried to Applebloom’s room. He opened the door to find her safely asleep, though stirring a bit from his careless hoofsteps. He heaved a sigh and closed the bedroom door before making his way to Applejack’s room. She was safe as well, her eyes closed in peaceful sleep instead of…

He cleared the thought from his mind before wondering for a moment whether to wake his sister or not. But he decided against it, not wanting to put her through that again. Though, if he were honest, he didn’t want to put himself through that again. A selfish thought but one truer to his heart.

He crept his way down the stairs and outside for the third time. The cold air greeted him as he sat down just outside the farmhouse and, once his breathing returned to normal and once the adrenaline had worn off, hung his head. He felt a few streams of water run down his cheeks but did nothing to stop them. He stayed there for a moment to let the feeling of loss wash over him.

Big Mac composed himself with a self-deprecating growl and a shake of his head. That was enough of that, his sisters were alright and now was a time of action. His mind raced as he tried to figure out just what was going on. He had thought at first that he had seen a premonition, a vision of the future. But now, for the third time, he found himself waking up in the same morning.

Obviously that streak of light had to do something with the whole affair. But what? And for that matter, what was that thing in the first place? Getting up, Big Macintosh walked to the edge of the mudded path once again.

As if on cue, Big Mac saw the beam of light make its way from the horizon. But something seemed a bit different this time. It was almost as if it was…faster. As the ray of light finally passed him, Big Macintosh could swear he saw the faint silhouette of a pegasus at the forefront.

As the tsunami of white engulfed him yet again, the gears in his mind caught each other and he knew what he had to do.

-*-

Big Mac awoke with a large gulp of air. He thought he would be used to it by now. But drowning really wasn’t something anyone could get used to. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and got up to make his way out of the farmhouse.

Thoughts passed through his mind at a speed rivaling the anomaly of light as he descended the steps. Everything had clicked. Somehow Rainbow Dash was the cause of all this, and now it seemed that the only answer was to stop her. She didn’t look like she was stopping by herself anytime soon, after all.

But if stopping her would only stop time from repeating, what would stop the flood that followed?

He stopped as his hooves felt the grass outside and as the implications of the thought hit him. Without time going back that would mean that there were no second chances, and anyone caught within its depths would…stay there.

Big Mac stood there frozen. Not daring to make another move. He couldn’t stop Rainbow Dash, he just couldn't. Doing so would be sentencing his sisters to—he didn’t even want to think about it.

But was that any better than sleeping through the same few minutes for possibly the rest of eternity?

Big Mac inched a hoof up and brought it down with the same trepidation. Slowly his other legs followed suit and soon he was running towards the path. He wished he had more time, but there was no doubt in his mind that Rainbow Dash was getting faster and faster with each pass. Soon five minutes would be three minutes. Three minutes would turn to one minute. One minute would turn to one second. And it wouldn’t be long before the entire span of time between the streak of light and waking up would turn into some sort of singularity.

He stepped not to the side of the path, but directly on it. He took a few deep breaths to brace himself for what was to come. As he saw the ray of light coming at him at dizzying speeds, he closed his eyes and prayed. He had only one regret.

That his best plan was so damn stupid.

An explosion of pain hit his head and in an instant he felt himself slide backwards on the slick mud. He strained to keep himself upright and to keep the force pushing against him from lifting him up and away. He stuck to his footing, even when the mud gave way to dirt and the dirt gave way to cobblestone. Even when he could feel his hooves being practically ground down to the flesh.

He cautioned a look at the pegasus pushing against him. She was looking at him, and Big Mac could swear he saw a tint of fear mixed in with the dark pink.

“Mac, I can’t stop,” she said. Though he could barely hear her over the sound of air rushing past his ears.

“It’ll be okay, sugarcube,” he lied. He didn’t know what would happen. The two were going so fast that the world passing them seemed to blur and merge into nothing but shades of blacks. It was a wonder they hadn’t run into anything.

“Dash, can ya turn at all?” he asked, an idea forming in his mind.

“I don’t know, but why the heck would I want to? We’re lucky we haven’t crashed.”

Big Mac lifted his front legs slowly, careful to keep his footing, and wrapped them around Rainbow Dash’s neck. He pushed away from her with all his strength and freed his skull from hers before arranging her head to push against the crook of his neck, his chin resting on top of her head.

“Turn.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Scared?”

Rainbow Dash only gave him a low growl. He could see her right wing edge a bit higher. It only raised a hair’s length before Big Mac felt the earth shift from underneath him. He leaned to keep his balance, but the effort proved meaningless as mere seconds later his body crashed against something solid. Very solid.

A roaring crack and boom thundered out from behind him as dust and wooden splinters showered him from above causing his eyes to shut tight. He gritted his teeth against the pain of a broken body as he slid down to the ground. His forelegs fell limply to his sides and away from an unconscious Rainbow Dash. After recovering a bit from the pain, Big Mac opened his eyes just in time to see the rushing tidal wave coming towards them as it followed the still vivid beam of light.

He tried desperately to get up and to take the pegasus and run, no matter how futile. But his body wouldn’t move. If only sheer will could be enough.

So he only sighed and waited and looked at his watery doom with open eyes unblinking.

But it never came. Soon the trail of light faded away like a mirage and with it all the momentum behind the wave. It stopped as if frozen in time before all at once spilling flat onto the ground. He felt the small splash of liquid light wet his hooves as the remnant tide of the tsunami gently flowed towards him.

Big Macintosh just sat there, taking shallow breathes since his chest refused to expand all the way. His pain grew unbearable as the adrenaline wore off and he felt his eyelids go heavy. Soon the pain became so great that it engulfed his eyesight in black.

-*-

When he finally woke up, it was with the great reluctance and stubbornness all too characteristic of the Apple family. Though waking up in a lumpy hospital bed—

Big Mac’s mind screeched to a halt as he recognized the familiarity of everything around him. The hospital bed, the thin white sheets, the pulled back curtain, and the smell of sterilized everything. Bandages covered his chest, head, and barrel as well as all four of his hooves. He touched his front hooves together only to quickly pull them away and hiss in pain.

“Hey you’re awake.”

He turned to look at the bed beside him to find Rainbow Dash grinning at him, her head bandaged much like his own. He shifted his weight and with a grimace sat up.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Me? Jeez you’re some piece of work. Have you seen yourself lately?”

Big Macintosh only grunted neutrally before his eyes caught the view of night outside a nearby window.

“What happened?” he asked.

Rainbow Dash remained silent in thought for a few moments. “Well I was about to ask you the same thing. The last thing I remember was taking off from the weather factory. But for some reason I kept going faster and faster and I couldn’t stop. I ended up going so fast that I couldn’t even see right anymore. It’s weird, though. I would’ve thought I’d be way past Ponyville by the time you stopped me, but we crashed at Sweet Apple Acres so…” she trailed off with a shrug.

“You,” he chose his words carefully, “don’t remember anything else?”

“Nope. Sucks too, I didn’t even get to see my own Sonic Moonboom. How lame is that?”

Big Mac nodded his head weakly. “What happened after we crashed?”

“Don’t really know. All I remember is that I blacked out when we hit and when I woke up you were out cold. So I went to your house, got Applejack and- oh crud, Applejack!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed as she sat straight up. “I was supposed to get a nurse to tell her when you woke up.” She brought her hooves up to her mouth and let loose a shrill whistle. An annoyed nurse with a pink coat and a lavender and striped-white mane entered the room soon after.

“Can you tell my friend her brother’s up?” Rainbow Dash asked. With a roll of her eyes the nurse left. It didn’t take long before the sound of hurrying hoofsteps got louder and louder as it came closer towards them.

An orange blur rushed past the doorway and leapt towards Big Macintosh to embrace and nuzzle him. Pain lashed out at the injured pony but he smiled anyway and managed to return the hug.

“Ah’m glad yer okay, sugarcube,” he said, honestly relieved that she was safe.

Applejack released him and took a step back, a look of pure disbelief on her face. “Yer glad that Ah’m okay? Yer some piece of work, ya know that?”

“That’s what I said.” Rainbow Dash piped up.

“You’re one ta talk, you’re the reason he’s in here in the first place.” Applejack said as she turned to glare at the pegasus.

“Hey why are you getting mad at me?”

“Well Ah’m sorry, Rainbow,” Applejack said, struggling to keep her voice steady, “but Ah gotta be mad at somepony and you ain’t as hurt as Big Macintosh so Ah won’t feel as bad at bein’ angry with ya and…and…” her voice cracked just the slightest bit, just enough reason for Big Mac to bring her in for another hug.

She buried her face in his chest and, despite the shooting pain coursing through his body, Big Mac smiled softly. “C’mon now, sugarcube,” he said, “ain’t nothing for ya to worry about. Ah’m just fine.”

“Ah know,” she said without moving, “but when Rainbow went ta fetch me and Ah saw ya lying on the ground barely breathin’ it reminded me of when that applecart fell on-“

Big Mac gently shushed her to silence. “That’s enough of that.”

Applejack nodded, though she still stayed within her brother’s embrace. After a few seconds she composed herself and took a step back, taking a moment to wipe her eyes with a foreleg.

“Sorry Ah snapped at ya, Rainbow,” she whispered.

“Hey, no problem,” the pegasus responded with a smile.

Applejack nodded her thanks. “Ah'm just glad you two are a'right. But would y'all care ta explain just what in the heck happened?"

Rainbow Dash grinned. "You should've seen it. We-"

"Bumped inta each other." Big Mac interrupted. Rainbow Dash looked at him in disbelief, only to meet with Big Mac's narrowed eyes.

"Yup, we bumped into each other," the pegasus repeated.

"Uh-huh," Applejack said slowly. "Well Ah better get on home, then. Applebloom’s still sleeping at the farm.” She turned to leave, but at the last moment turned her head towards her brother, “You gonna be okay?”

He smiled. “Ah’ll be fine.”

She gave him a final nod before taking her leave, which left Big Mac alone with the pegasus that caused his injuries. The two sat in silence for a while until Rainbow Dash broke it with a simple question.

"Why didn't you want me to tell her?"

He shrugged. "Ah didn't wanna worry her. Matter of fact, Ah'd really appreciate it if we could keep the whole thing between just us."

"What? Why?" Rainbow Dash exclaimed. "I've gone faster than I ever have before. And I'm sure I did a Sonic Moonboom, did you happen to see it?"

“Eeyup.”

“Really? Was it the most awesome thing you’ve ever seen?”

“Nnope.”

Rainbow Dash groaned with a flail of her legs. “Why? For the love of Celestia, why wasn’t it?”

Big Mac couldn’t help but chuckle as he leaned back to lie on the hospital bed. He looked up at the ceiling and idly imagined the starred sky beyond it.

“Ya wanna hear a story, Dash?”

The mare sighed. “Sure, why not.”

He took a deep breath and a few moments to compose his thoughts. “Once, a few years ago, there was a little colt. And, to this colt, nothin’ was more important to him than the happiness and safety of his family.

“But one day one of his sisters decided ta leave and head off ta the big city. He didn’t know why she wanted ta go, but he saw how much it meant ta her and with a couple of watery eyes he saw her go.

“With his sister gone, the colt found himself in a bit of a sad slump. He got lonelier and lonelier each day his sister was gone. There were some days he couldn’t even move at all, his heart was so dang heavy even though it felt real empty.

“But then, one day, he saw something that made him feel a bit lighter and a bit fuller. He saw what looked like a little filly flyin’ through the sky, with a full range of colors behind her. It filled the sky like it filled his heart, and he knew, right then and there, that everythin’ was gonna be okay. He couldn’t explain how he knew, he just knew.

“Not long after that his sister came back. Ya wouldn’t have believed how happy he was to see her. And imagine his surprise when she told him the story of how a rainbow pointed her towards home. He was sure that his sister had seen the same rainbow he had. And so he promised himself that one day he would thank that little filly that flew across the sky that day.”

Big Macintosh turned his head towards Rainbow Dash’s bed only to see the rainbow-maned pegasus looking back at him. “Thank ya, Dash, for bringin’ my sister back.”

She smiled at him for a moment. “What took so long,” she said playfully.

He smiled back. “Once Applejack made friends with ya Ah wanted ta say thanks, but then ya started helpin’ her out more and more. The ‘thank ya’s’ just started pilin’ up. Pretty soon Ah felt that sayin’ thanks just wasn’t enough anymore.”

Rainbow Dash giggled. “Well how about the rest of those ‘thank you’s’? I’d sure like to hear them.”

“Sorry Dash, one ‘thank ya’ per Element of Harmony. Else my voice might start ta get a little hoarse.”

She laughed, though soon had to fight back a yawn. It proved contagious and soon Big Mac yawned as well.

“We should probably get some shuteye,” he said.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s already about four in the morning. But I hate sleeping in a hospital bed.”

“Ah hear ya.”

The two took to silence once again, trying their best to fall asleep. Big Mac just lied there on the bed feeling wide awake. It didn’t help that he was usually up by this hour. He inhaled deeply a few times to build up a rhythm, but even that didn’t help much.

It wasn’t until after a few minutes of deep breathing that he heard the quiet breaths of a sleeping Rainbow Dash on the bed next to his. He focused on it, letting its serenity reach out to him. It felt good, it reminded him of home. Slowly, his eyes closed of his own volition.

-*-

A few hours later the morning sun shone in through the window to gently coax Big Mac’s eyes open. A soft groan escaped his lips as he shifted awake and raised himself to a sitting position. He looked over to the bed next to him and, much as he expected, found Rainbow Dash still sleeping soundly. He smiled at her bird-like tendency of burying her muzzle under her wing. Pegasi sure were something else. Now if he could only figure out why he always seemed to get into life-threatening situations when around them.

Soon a sandy brown unicorn stallion in a white lab coat entered the room. He gave a nod to Big Macintosh, who returned it, before going to Rainbow Dash’s bedside.

“Miss Rainbow Dash,” the doctor said, trying to wake the sleeping pegasus.

She mumbled something incoherent before rolling over with a wave of her hoof as if swatting an annoying fly.

“Miss Rainbow Dash,” the doctor repeated, “you’ve been discharged from the hospital. You’re free to go.”

That got her up. In an instant she was off the bed and on her hooves. “Finally, I couldn’t stand another night,” she said with a grin.

“Uh-huh,” the doctor mumbled before speaking a bit louder, “now Rainbow Dash, please make sure you keep that head of yours from crashing into anything. And you should stay grounded for a few days, you’ve really overexerted those wings.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say,” she said, not really paying attention. Instead, her focus was on her wings as she slowly raised and lowered them. The doctor, meanwhile, could only shake his head.

“C’mon, Mac, let’s go. I bet I could beat you at hoof wrasslin’ fair and square now,” she laughed as she stood next to his bed.

Big Mac smiled. “Ah’d like ta see ya try, Dash.” He moved to get up, but the doctor quickly stopped him.

“Now hold on Mr. Apple. You’re far from being released. You can’t even walk on those hooves.”

“Oh,” Big Mac said as he returned to a sitting position, “so how long do ya think, doc?”

“I’d say no less than three days. Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll fly by.” The doctor smiled, though it didn’t do much to comfort Big Macintosh. With a final nod, the doctor excused himself from the room.

The red stallion sighed and leaned back on his bed to stare at the ceiling with a half-lidded gaze. Three days. That was three times longer than his last visit to the hospital, and he almost went insane cooped up for that long. How in the heck would he survive three days of nothing but lying on a hospital bed gathering bedsores.

“Say Mac,” Rainbow Dash’s voice shook him from his thoughts. “I don’t have anything to do. Want me to stick around and keep you company?”

He smiled. “That’s sweet of ya, but don’t ya worry about me. Ah’ll be just fine.”

“If you say so,” she said as she stepped towards the doorway. She hesitated and looked back at Big Macintosh, silently asking if he was sure. He nodded and she left soon after.

The next hour or so Big Macintosh spent lying on his bed, his thoughts wondering about as they were opt to do in times of boredom and uselessness. He wondered if he would be well enough to help in the coming applebuck season. He wondered if Applejack and Applebloom were doing alright. He wondered why that same feeling from the night back from Canterlot kept trying to nag its way back into his mind. And he wondered what in the heck Rainbow Dash was doing back in the hospital with a book in her mouth.

The pegasus smiled at him through the book before setting it down at the nightstand by his bed. “Hey,” she greeted him. “I just thought you might want something to read while your stuck in here. Sorry it took so long.”

Big Mac smiled at her, though it quickly vanished as he looked at the book. “That’s mighty kind of ya, Dash. But Ah’m not really one fer readin’ fiction.”

“Oh,” she said simply, her eyes downcast and her ears drooping.

“But uh,” he quickly added, “you must have some stories to tell.”

She perked up instantly. “Hah, you bet. I could definitely tell you some stories.”

It became routine. Everyday Rainbow Dash would come by the hospital whenever she could and entertain him with stories of her amazing feats as well as those of some of her friends. She was one heck of a storyteller too. She would emphasis the most heart-pounding dangers with impassioned swings of her forelegs. The stories came to life with sound effects, different voices, and even the scarce scribble of various locales. What she lacked in artistic skill she more than made up for in her vision.

As good a storyteller as Rainbow Dash was, Big Macintosh made sure to be just as good a listener. His eyes would widen just a bit at the most suspenseful parts. He would close his eyes to properly envision her descriptions, and chuckle at the gentle humor of a situation. Heck, he would even give a tiny gasp at the various twist endings no matter how trite and predictable.

Soon three days flew by. Big Mac’s hooves were no longer in bandages, though the rest on his chest and head remained. It was during one of their story sessions that the doctor interrupted them.

“Mr. Apple, you’ll be glad to know you’re free to go,” the doctor said.

Big Macintosh smiled before practically leaping off his bed. “Thanks, doc,” he said as he walked towards the doorway.

“Now hold on,” the doctor quickly stopped him, “you have to remember to get plenty of bed rest and you should try to keep off your hooves as much as possible. Just because they’re not in pain doesn’t mean they’re fully healed. If you overexert yourself you may unwittingly do some extreme and permanent damage.”

Big Mac looked at him for a moment. “How do ya mean.”

“I mean that if you so much as run you’ll risk breaking your fetlocks and that could take weeks to heal as well as extensive physical therapy. For the next couple of months I want you to just take it easy. Do you understand?”

The farmpony sighed before giving the doctor a slow nod. Satisfied, the doctor left and soon after Big Macintosh and Rainbow Dash exited the hospital.

Big Mac took a moment to take in the fresh, clean air. It was like being born for a second time after being cooped up in that small room. He tested his body to see his limits. His head still had a pretty acute pain to it, though it took the form of a constant throb. His chest, meanwhile, greatly limited his ability to twist his body. All in all, he had about the same range of motion as a cheap two-bit puppet. Well, at least he could be with his family.

“How’re you feeling?” Rainbow Dash asked as she walked alongside him.

“Never better,” he said with a smile, one that she returned.

The two walked the rest of the way in silence, both heading for Sweet Apple Acres. For him it was to get back home, for her it was to see Applejack. That’s what she told him, anyway.

Soon the two arrived on the farm, and Big Macintosh’s eyes were instantly drawn to the old, dead tree at the front of the house. It looked mostly the same, except for the fact that it was now leaning at around a forty-five degree angle. Not to mention the large crack running up its trunk. He let out an impressed whistle.

“What in the heck happened to it?” he asked no one in particular.

“Didn’t you know? That’s where we crashed.” Rainbow Dash answered him.

The two approached the tree and Big Mac got a closer look at it. The crack up its trunk ran deep, at least halfway through the whole thing. A tangled mass of roots was splayed about the ground in the opposite direction of the lean. While on the other side the roots were forced deeper in. He looked at it in silence for a few moments before finally speaking.

“Woody,” he said.

“What?”

“Ah’m gonna call him Woody.”

“That’s a dumb name for a tree. I bet I could think of something better.”

“Ah’d like ta see ya try, Dash.”

The two continued their playful argument even as they entered the farmhouse, the Apple sisters already waiting for them.

5. Knowing and Doing

Knowing and Doing

Staying in bed was all that Applejack allowed him, and it wore on his sanity like water on salt. To think that, had he not been injured a second time, he would be out working on the farm by now sent him deeper into his slump. He had thought that once out of the hospital he could at least wander around in the fresh air, but that wasn’t the case. He blamed the nurse who visited the Acres to talk to Mac about his condition. It really just meant she talked in-depth about what he could and couldn’t do. Which came down to nothing and everything, respectively. Unfortunately his family, mostly Applejack, completely threw out the concept of doctor-patient confidentiality and thought it a good idea to eavesdrop. It had been a week since then, and he hadn’t even been allowed to walk.

He hated it. Hated having his food brought to him. Hated Applejack’s insistence to escort him to and from the bathroom. Hated the inability to help his family run the farm. Hated feeling like a foal. No, at least foals could get up and walk around. He was a damn piece of glass.

One day he just couldn’t take it anymore. He had to feel useful, had to feel like he was actually doing something. He had to work. It didn’t matter how injured or how weak his body. So during the early hours of the morning, when even Granny Smith still slept, he got up from his bed. His legs wobbled a bit, but he soon found his footing. He opened his bedroom door, a tiny squeak from its hinges making him hesitate. Once he was certain the coast was clear, he crept out and down the steps in silence. He soon found himself outside in the cold pre-dawn. He took a deep breath, though quickly regretted it as pain shot him in the chest. He ignored it and made his way to the barn. He smiled softly as he kept a gentle walk towards the building, but his smile grew and his pace quickened the closer he approached.

He stopped in front of the shadowed structure for a moment as he remembered that the last time he had been inside was a whole week ago. After taking another deep breath and flinching from the resulting pain, he swung the barn doors open and allowed the warmer air inside to hit him full on. He walked in to the very back, towards a hidden corner where a pile of various chains, scrap wood, and chunks of broken iron lied. Applejack thought she had hidden it well, but if that was her best attempt then she must not know him as well as she thought. He carefully moved aside the debris to expose something covered in a white tarp. He removed the sheet to reveal an old friend: his plow.

Big Macintosh grabbed its handle with his teeth and began to lift only to quickly release it with a thud as a tendril of pain spiked up his neck. He shook his head before grabbing the handle yet again, clenching his teeth so hard he could feel the wood sinking to his bite. He lifted and ignored the pain in his neck, though it kept him from lifting the plow fully off the ground. The pain grew tremendous as he half-lifted-half-dragged his farm tool out of the barn, creating a shallow trench in the dirt as the blade grounded against the earth.

The southern field wasn’t too far off now. It had been the last field he had worked on before he became injured the first time. Coming back to it now, it made him feel like he was truly at home after being away for so long. A strange type of homesickness, to be sure, but one that hung around his neck tighter than his yolk.

The plow settled about midway through the first edge of the field, continuing the interrupted line that had stayed uncompleted for about a month now. He grabbed its rope and hitched it to his collar. Standing in front of the plow, he allowed the rope some slack as he tested his legs. He lifted each one slowly, picking up speed until he was trotting in place. Nothing felt off.

He took a step forward and soon the rope became taut and the weight of the plow held him back. He pulled as hard as he could until the gnawing pain in his chest and neck forced him to stop. But not for long. A few breaths later and he pulled once again, this time not stopping when the aches and stings became greater and more acute. Not even when they began to cloud his mind and his sight. He lost his senses to pain and it was all his mind could register. But even then he didn’t stop. Slowly he felt the plow inch forward and, with a triumphant grunt, took his first step towards true work.

“Big Macintosh!” The yell was so great he could swear he felt the ground shake. But as powerful the shout, he ignored it completely. All he heard was the sound of the plow carving the ground, all he saw was the unworked earth in front of him, all he smelled was the scent of his own sweat, and all he felt was the ground giving way beneath him.

He took another step and another and another, and with each one he felt more and more of his energy drain away. His body became enveloped in fire and he knew he was in danger of fainting. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t stop until the entire damn field was done, even if it killed him.

A loud thud sounded through the field, and Big Macintosh felt the weight of the plow increase. He struggled vainly to keep going, but he just wasn’t strong enough in his injured state. He finally stopped and the fatigue caught up with him. Exhausted, his legs shook until they finally gave up altogether. He collapsed, his legs folded underneath him.

“You brainless idiot.” He recognized the voice, and slowly he turned his head to face his sister. She looked none too happy. Her hard glare made it difficult for him to look her in the eyes, even worse that they were watering. She removed her back hoof from the flat of the plow’s blade and undid the ropes hitching it to him before circling around to stand in front of him. “Ya think Ah don’t know how much ya hate stayin’ outta work? Ah do, Ah honestly do. But if ya can’t wait two months then soon enough yer gonna have ta wait six.”

Big Macintosh just looked at the earth under him, idly scratching at it with a hoof. Soon he had dug a tiny hole in the ground, and he wondered whether he could plow a field like this. He felt his sister’s nose beneath his chin as she lifted up his head before she moved to lock eyes with him, forcing him to speak.

“Ah was so close. Now Ah can’t even do anythin’,” he said.

His sister gave him a soft smile and nuzzled his neck gently. “Ah know,” she said, “but ya gotta find something ta do ta take yer mind off of working.”

“How can Ah do anything when ya don’t even let me outta my room?” Big Macintosh said.

She paused for a moment before opening her mouth to argue. But after a few more seconds of thinking, she only heaved a sigh. “Yer right. Ah have been overreactin’. But that’s only ‘cause Ah worry about ya.” She stopped to wipe some nonexistent sweat out of her eyes. “Say, how ‘bout you go to the library and read something. That helped Rainbow Dash when she was holed up in the hospital, and we know how that ended,” she said with a small laugh.

He forced a smile. “Ya mean yer gonna let me walk around fer a change?”

“Only if ya promise not ta strain yerself, ya hear?”

He nodded slowly. Walking to the library wasn’t really what he had in mind, but at least it was a chance to stretch his legs. Still, the nagging feeling of uselessness never quite left him, and it darkened whatever shallow happiness he felt. But he wouldn’t dare show that to his sister, lest she just worry about him more. And that was something he’d never let himself do.

“Ya better get on yer way. Ah’m sure Twilight wouldn’t mind ya stoppin’ by a bit early. Knowing her she’s probably up already readin’ something or other.” She circled around again towards the back of the plow. “Don’t worry about this thing,” she said, “Ah’ll put it back in the barn.”

“But-“

“No buts, now get on with ya.”

He nodded before walking towards Ponyville, taking a pause to give his sister one last look. But she just pointed a hoof towards the town as she struggled with the plow. He sighed and continued down the path.

The sun hadn’t yet risen though the eastern sky showed the faintest signs of day, so Ponyville was still cloaked in that strange shade of bluish-gray. Soon the sun would hover halfway in the horizon and bring with it a world of bright oranges and reds. Magic hour. He couldn’t wait for that time of golden brilliance. It always managed to cheer him up, and right now he sure could use some cheering up.

As he arrived at the library he made the same promise he always made to himself before an imminent encounter with Ponyville’s librarian. The last thing he wanted was to pester her with questions like he always seemed to do. Besides, he didn’t feel much like talking anyway.

He arrived a bit sooner than he had planned. Looking back towards the east, he wondered if he should perhaps take a seat outside to see the morning. He nodded to himself as he sat down by the library door, getting comfortable as he stared up at the sky. Though he didn’t stay there for long before the door carefully swung open. Twilight Sparkle peeked her head out and caught sight of the stallion looking back at her.

“Hey Big Macintosh,” Twilight said as she stepped completely out the door, “I know the library’s not open yet but that doesn’t mean you can’t come in if you want.” She smiled at him.

“Ah know, Miss Sparkle,” he said, remaining unmoved, “but Ah just wanted ta see the sun rise up before Ah went in.”

“Oh,” she said as she followed the colt’s gaze towards the sky. A hint of gold touched on the horizon. “Hey, I know. You can get a really great view upstairs on my little observatory. Well, it’s not really an observatory, I mean, it’s really not what you think of when you hear the word observatory, but I like to…” she trailed off her nervous rambling as she noticed him staring at her. She forced a smile, which was enough to get him on his hooves.

“Lead the way,” he said.

She nodded happily as she entered the library with Big Mac following her. The library, per usual, was spotless. Nothing but a few opened books on the table and on a few bookstands gave any indication that it was in use at all, and even then they felt more like mere props adding to the ambiance.

Twilight Sparkle led him up a couple of flights of stairs before they reached a door. On the other side was a small platform with a railing lining its edge. A rather large telescope was attached to a part of the railing, pointing towards the sky. The deck proved a bit on the small side, though there was plenty of room for the two of them.

Big Macintosh approached the edge of the deck, his chest leaning gently against the railing. Below him was the all-encompassing sight of Ponyville that only a view from above could ever present. The sun had risen higher and each building seemed split in half, one with the soft glow of orange and the other a cold darkened blue. Shadows grew to eerie lengths, so great in fact that they seemed like stripes on the ground. The alternating strips of light and dark made it seem as if night and day were competing for the world. It made him smile.

“Beautiful,” he whispered beneath his breath.

“Yeah,” she sighed next to him. “You know there are places in the world where it’s like this all day and night. Wouldn’t it be amazing to live somewhere like that?”

“Not really,” he said, his gaze still focused on the town below him. “Once ya get used ta something it doesn’t seem as special as it used ta be.” He bit his tongue as the final words left him, his promise still in the back of his mind. This time he made sure he would keep it.

She looked ready to respond, but before she could Big Macintosh turned around and headed through the door they came in. “Thanks for sharin’ this with me,” he allowed himself to say as he climbed down the stairs. She followed him, and soon the two were back on the main floor.

Big Macintosh wasted no time before perusing the shelves. Looking for anything that might catch his interest.

“So I heard about what happened. Are you feeling alright?” she asked as she followed him through the bookshelves.

“Eeyup.”

“Well, do you… want to talk about it? It might make you feel better.”

“Nnope.”

“Do you want to talk at all?”

“Nnope.”

“Oh okay,” she said, her ears falling low. “Sorry for bothering you.” She walked away and left him to his own devices.

He really hated to be rude, especially to someone who’d always been so nice to him. But all the more reason he had to keep to his usual two-word vocabulary. The last thing he wanted was for the smartest pony in Ponyville to think any less of him. Though, if he thought about it, it wasn’t because she was so smart, but because she was such a good friend to his little sister.

With that thought he picked out a book that caught his eye, Color Theory in Mode and Style, and headed for the table where Twilight was busy with her nose in a book. She looked up with a smile as he approached and brought her ledger and quill to her. Big Mac, meanwhile, placed the little book on the table for her to see. Not a second passed before she was done writing and he was wedging the book beneath his collar while ignoring the pain from his bruised neck. He turned to leave but didn’t get far.

“You know,” Twilight Sparkle said, and he turned his head towards her, “you could stay here to read it. You usually return books a day or two after you check them out so it could save you a trip. Especially since you’re supposed to stay off your feet.”

Big Macintosh stayed silent and simply looked at her for a few moments. Until finally he said, “Did AJ tell ya that?”

“Uh,” she stuttered for a moment, “it came up in conversation.” The corner of her lips rose half-heartedly in a nervous smile.

He chuckled softly. “Ah believe it.” He grabbed the book and placed it on the table before opening it to the first page. He sat himself across from the librarian and began to read. From the corner of his eye he saw her smile, just a bit, before returning to her own reading.

They remained silent after that, simply engrossed in their books. He proved Twilight right as, about two hours later, Big Macintosh closed the book in front of him with a yawn. He didn’t have time to stand before his book was engulfed in magic and floated back to its place in the shelves. A moment later Twilight brought her ledger and quill and updated her records, all the while never looking up from her book.

The cycle repeated itself. He would take a seemingly random book from the shelves, read it, finish it, and put it back. This went on for much of the pre-noon day. It wasn’t until Twilight had finished her own book that he found himself unable to concentrate.

With seemingly nothing else to do, she paced back and forth through her library. Sometimes she would arbitrarily open a book before placing it back. Other times he would catch her looking at him with that same look Applejack had when she contemplated interrupting him while he was working. A look filled with held back eagerness. It wouldn’t be so bad if she weren’t so obvious about it.

It was during one of those times that he turned to look right back at her. They locked eyes for a moment and Twilight was forced to say something. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out.

“Would,” she finally began only to hesitate after the first word, “would you like some tea?”

Big Mac’s eyelids fell lower than usual. “Got any coffee?” he said with a yawn.

“I…don’t, sorry,” she said sheepishly. He only nodded his response before rubbing his cramped neck. He tried to crack it, but only succeeded in sending waves of pain up his spine. His eyes shut and his teeth gritted against the stinging.

“You know, tea can help dull the pain,” Twilight said as she walked towards a doorway that presumably led to the kitchen. “Some alfalfa tea always helps when I have a headache from reading all day,” she called.

“No offense, Miss Sparkle, but Ah got a bit more than a headache,” he said. It didn’t take long for her to come back with two steaming mugs floating in front of her. She placed one in front of her place on the table and the other in front of Big Macintosh, who simply sniffed at the amber brown liquid.

“Trust me, it’ll help,” she said before taking a sip from her mug. Big Macintosh followed suit and allowed its slight bitterness and extreme heat to wash away the little aches, though a great many still remained. Still, it did help. If only a bit.

“Thanks,” he said, forcing himself to take another sip of tea.

“How’s your reading?” Twilight asked. It was the sort of question one asked to drive away awkward silences. It was strange, though, since there wasn’t an awkward silence to be driven away. At least, to him there wasn’t.

“Jus’ fine. But Ah gotta admit Ah ain’t much inta readin’.”

“Really?” Twilight said, giving him a questioning look. “You check out a lot of books for someone who’s not into reading.”

“Well,” Big Mac said, taking his time with a response, “Ah s’ppose Ah only like ta read books that can teach me somethin’ useful.”

“But Big Macintosh, there’s more to reading than just-“

The sound of the library door slamming open interrupted the mare. And the sound of tiny hooves and high-pitched grunts and yelps echoed throughout the library as two little ponies rolled over themselves in a ball of manes and tails. All the while a unicorn filly stood at the sidelines, a wagon full of sheets of paper behind her, trying in vain to calm the situation.

Without so much as a sound, Big Macintosh approached the twirling mass of filly. He lowered his head and grabbed a familiar yellow pony by the scruff of her neck. She flailed wildly with her eyes shut even as she dangled from her brother’s gentle grip of teeth. Her competitor, an orange pegasus with a purple mane, flailed around as well for a few moments before realizing she was simply fighting air.

Once the two had settled down a bit, the eldest Apple lowered his sister back onto the ground. “Ya’ll better have a good explanation for fightin’, and in a library of all places,” he said. He turned a scolding gaze towards Applebloom, who just looked down at the floor.

“She started it,” his little sister said as she pointed a hoof towards Scootaloo.

“Did not,” the other filly said. “You’re the one that said it’ll take me a hundred years for me to learn how to fly.”

“It was only a joke,” Applebloom cried. “You were the one that started the fight.”

“That’s enough you two,” Twilight said, appearing next to Big Macintosh.

The stallion nodded. “Now Applebloom, ya know how hurtful words can be. Even if ya think its just a joke. Say yer sorry.”

“Sorry,” Applebloom said in the usual tone children took when forced to apologize.

“You too, Scootaloo,” Twilight said, “its fine to be mad at a friend, but there are better ways to resolve arguments than fighting. Somepony could get really hurt.”

“Sorry,” Scootaloo said, matching her friend’s tone.

With the two fillies properly lectured, Big Macintosh turned towards the bookshelves with the hope of spending the rest of the day quietly reading. But Applebloom quickly got in his way.

“Hey, big brother, can ya make me a paper dart?”

He hummed in thought for a moment before speaking. “Didn’t Ah a’ready teach ya how ta make one?”

“Yeah,” she said, drawing out that one syllable for as long as she could. “But yours are always better than mine. Please.” She looked up at him with those big ol’ eyes and he just smiled.

“A’right sugarcube, fetch me a piece of paper.”

The young filly grinned from ear to ear before running off towards the wagon, grabbing a piece of paper, and running back to her older brother. He took it and placed it flat on the table. Carefully he folded, turned, and bent the paper until it finally looked like a thin, narrow triangle with a perpendicular base attaching underneath.

He took the base within his teeth, and with a turn of his neck propelled the paper dart into the air. It glided across the room, a giggling Applebloom chasing after it, until finally bumping into the wall and spiraling down to the floor.

“See, Ah told ya it would work.” Applebloom said with a grin as she picked up the paper dart and placed it in the wagon.

“So we have a proof of concept,” Scootaloo said with a dismissive wave of her hoof, “we still need tons of paper.”

“Well then let’s keep lookin’.”

“Uh, you know we’re in a library right?” Sweetie Belle piped up. “We could ask Twilight if she could let us borrow some.”
Without much warning Twilight was bombarded with three fillies at their cutest, each looking at her with a face that would have had Big Mac biting his hoof to keep himself from making any embarrassing noises. Twilight, fortunately, seemed to have a higher tolerance.

She looked at the three for a moment. “Yes, I have some parchment you can borrow,” she finally said with a hint of a chuckle. The fillies cheered as the unicorn magically grabbed a few sheets of paper, picked at random from throughout the library, and placed them neatly atop their wagon. The three quickly said their thanks before dashing out of the library in full excitement, the wagon bumping along behind them.

The two left in the library just watched them go for a moment before Twilight turned to the red pony next to her. “What are paper darts used for, anyway?”

He chuckled. “Used ta make ‘em all the time when Ah was in school. Drove the teacher crazy, and Ah don’t think Cheerilee is gonna be too pleased about it either.” He looked at her and saw a hint of interest in her eyes. “You want me ta show ya how ta make one?” he asked.

“Well,” she hesitated, “that’s alright. Actually, I was hoping we could talk some more.”

“Oh,” Big Macintosh said as his smile faded, “I was sorta hopin’ to read.”

“Yeah,” she said nervously, “I guess talking is pretty boring for you. Sorry about that.”

“Heck, that ain’t it at all,” he quickly said. “It’s jus’ that, well, ya gotta have better things ta do than talk to a farmpony who doesn’t know much about anything.”

“What are you talking about?” she said. “I like our conversations.”

Big Macintosh had to think about that for a moment. Quite honestly, it caught him by surprise. He pondered for a moment whether she was just patronizing him or, more likely, if she had gone a bit crazy. But whatever brought her to say such a thing, whether pity, sincerity, or instability, he couldn’t deny that he felt the same way. With that said, he still didn’t feel much like talking. He was about to tell her that when he caught sight of her smile. One day, he would find a way to become immune to cute. Until then, he had no choice but to oblige.

“So what were ya sayin’ about readin’?”

And they were off. Their first debate concerning whether knowledge should simply be a means to an end, or an end in and of itself. They must have talked for hours. Twilight would always cite names of ponies he never heard of, but by the tone of her voice seemed to be common knowledge. While he depended mostly on his own experiences, lacking the studious mare’s large reference pool.

Like always, their root of conversation grew out into secondary debates. Strange things such as whether there existed such a thing as true knowledge or if all knowledge was based upon extreme statistical probabilities (it wasn’t). Whether the senses could be trusted or if truth could only be found a priori (it couldn’t). And whether white chocolate should be classified as chocolate at all (it shouldn’t).

That last one was his. As much as Big Mac tried to steer the conversation towards more practical things, Twilight seemed just as determined to take the discussion to the most abstract contemplations possible. Subjects that, frankly, the workpony could not fathom. Though he honestly tried his best.

“Ah dunno, Miss Sparkle. Seems ta me that, for a pony that was so dang certain ‘bout how nothing could be certain to the point that he assumed his own thoughts might’ve been planted by some evil…thing, it was mighty easy of him to say that his own thoughts were in fact his own thoughts and not the thoughts of somethin’ else. Seems like he shoulda just said ‘Ah think therefore somethin’ is’.”

“That’s a good point, but I think-“

She was interrupted by the soft sound of flapping wings. The two turned to see Twilight’s pet owl land on his perch and turn his head to face a grandfather clock in a corner of the library. Twilight’s eyes grew wide as she followed her pet’s gaze.

“Oh wow, it’s getting pretty late,” she said. Big Macintosh took a look for himself and realized how much of an understatement it truly was. The clock face read half past four. He would usually be waking up right about now.

“Looks like Ah’ll be puttin’ in an all-nighter,” he mumbled to himself, though not quietly enough.
“Yeah, me too,” she said. What came next Macintosh would never have expected. “Say,” she began, “how about we have a slumber party.”

“E-excuse me, Miss Sparkle?” he stuttered.

“Well I guess it really wouldn’t be a slumber party since we probably won’t sleep much. But, you know, we could stay up and talk. Maybe play some board games and keep each other company.”

“Ah really don’t think it’d be appropriate for me to stay the night.”

“Why not?”

Big Macintosh couldn’t believe that she was this socially inept. Of course, he could think of a very good reason why not. The only hard part was actually telling her, and as he saw her levitate a small box onto the table he pondered the best way to say why it would be inappropriate for a stallion and mare to have a slumber party where no one actually slept.

“Do you know how to play chess?” she asked. He couldn’t explain it but that one question seemed to put his mind at ease. Of course Twilight thought nothing wrong with two friends staying up to play a game of chess, he didn’t think the mare was even capable of thinking an inappropriate thought. And honestly, if she thought nothing of it then maybe he shouldn’t either.

“Eeyup,” he answered her as he positioned himself across the table from her, the black pieces closest to him. The chessboard and pieces seemed to be handcrafted from fine wood by a skilled artisan. He held the king in his hoof to feel its heft for a moment before putting it back, ready to begin.

“How good are you?” she asked. He knew the question. It was the kind of question someone asks so they know how easy to go on you. He hated questions like that. He couldn’t call her out on it since she would just deny it. There was really only one answer that truly obliterated any chance of her going easy on him.

“Better than you.”

She was taken aback at first before a smile formed on her lips. She made the first move in silence and the game began. Each of them took their time with their moves, sometimes just looking at the board for several minutes on end before moving a pawn. As the game went on, it seemed that it all came down to pawns. It was always close, but it was always Twilight who finished in victory. He wasn’t at all surprised at the outcome, quite the opposite, he practically predicted it. They only played around three games when they were interrupted by the sound of the library’s door opening, followed by the sound of two mares holding an argument between them.

“I’m telling you it’s violet. Honestly Rainbow, take it from someone who works with colors for a living.”

“No, its purple. And you can take it from someone who's had it on her butt all her life.”

“Hey girls,” Twilight said as she stifled a yawn. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Early?” Rarity questioned. She placed a hoof on her friend’s shoulder and looked her over in concern. “Twilight it’s already noon. Are you feeling alright?”

Big Macintosh looked over at the clock once again to find that it had indeed been seven and a half hours since he last looked at the time. A surprise, to say the least, especially since it only felt like a few minutes ago.

“Guess I lost track of time,” Twilight said. “Macintosh and I were staying up all night playing chess.”

“Playing chess, huh. Is that what they’re calling it now?” Rainbow Dash asked with a snicker.

“Uh, yeah. It’s been called that for hundreds of years,” Twilight said, confused.

“Right,” Rarity interjected before things could get awkward. “Twilight, we were having a bit of an argument and we were hoping you might settle it for us. Do you know whether the last color of a rainbow is purple or violet?”

Twilight yawned again before answering. “I don’t know off the top of my head, but I think one of these books might have-“

“Violet.” Macintosh said offhandedly as he placed the chess pieces into their proper positions.

“Hah, I knew it.” Rarity said, casting a smug smirk Rainbow’s way. “Looks like you owe me a trip to the spa.”

“Hold on, I want a second opinion. No offense, Mac, but you’re not known for pulling a plow with your incredible mind.”

“He’s right Rainbow,” Twilight said as she levitated an open book in front of the pegasus. “Violet has a shorter wavelength than blue, while purple is just red and blue mixed together. You can tell since when violet is held under a bright light it’ll take on a more bluish hue.”

Rainbow took a long look at the book before sighing in defeat. “Jeez, and out of Mac of all ponies.”

Rarity laughed haughtily. “Well I’m not surprised, he certainly is a stallion of unexpected depth. Speaking of which,” she said as she approached the farmpony still at the table, “how are you feeling, sweetie? I can’t imagine how it feels to become injured so close to a full recovery.”

“Quit bugging him,” Rainbow Dash said as she made her way to the other side of Mac. “He’s doing fine. He’s as tough as I am, after all.” She patted him on the back, hard. He tensed up and gritted his teeth as he looked over at Twilight, silently begging her to free him from the sudden onrush of attention.

She picked up on it immediately. “How about another game?” she asked as she rearranged her side of the pieces. He quickly nodded, and the two made their opening moves in a hurry.

“Chess, huh?” Rainbow said as she circled around the table to get a better view of both sides of the board. “Let me guess. Mac’s been losing, right?”

“It’s been pretty close, but yes.” Twilight said as she moved her king’s pawn a square forward.

“Yeah, I bet. He loses on purpose, you know.”

“Hoof wrasslin’ is a different game than chess,” he said dryly as he moved his queen’s knight to a3.

“Yes, Rainbow Dash,” Rarity chimed in, “I don’t think it’s even possible to lose a game of chess deliberately.”

“If you say so,” the pegasus said, unconvinced. “But if anyone can find out a way to lose, it’s Mac.”

“C’mon Dash, what would he accomplish by throwing the game? It’s just a friendly competition between friends,” Twilight said.

Big Macintosh had to admit that he was getting pretty annoyed from all these mares talking about him as if he wasn’t there. Even so, he decided to just stay out of this conversation. Last thing he wanted was to bring more attention to himself.

“If you say so,” Dash said in a dismissive tone. “Anyway, I better get going before I’m late for work.”

“Rainbow dear, I hope you didn’t forget our bet.” Rarity called to the pegasus heading for the exit, causing Rainbow to visibly shiver.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll get back to you on that,” she said, hurriedly making her way through the door.

Rarity turned to the two ponies at their game of chess. “Oh, I am going to have so much fun with this,” she said with a smirk. “Well, I better take my leave as well. It was wonderful seeing you again, Macintosh. And I do hope for a quick recovery.” She gave the injured pony’s neck a quick nuzzle, though he could have sworn she lingered just a bit, before she took her exit and left him and Twilight alone to finish their chess game.

“You’ve certainly become fast friends,” Twilight said as she made her next move. Big Macintosh only responded with an affirmative grunt, still recovering from Rarity’s sudden touch of affection.

“You’re really good at this. How did you learn?” she asked. He felt confident enough to speak only once he felt the heat from his face fade away.

“Ah used ta play all the time when Ah was a colt. Mostly against Granny Smith, AJ just didn’t have the patience for it,” he said as he moved a pawn to capture one of hers.

“Used to? Why did you stop?” She moved a bishop for a check.

“Ah,” he paused to move a pawn into the bishop’s path and to also think of what to say, “grew out of it. That’s all.”

She only nodded, and the two continued in silence. After a few moves Macintosh noticed something peculiar about Twilight’s plays. She was getting sloppy. She missed easy opportunities to whittle down his forces, and he could swear she was actively trying to leave her king open to a checkmate.

“You think Ah’m losin’ on purpose.” It wasn’t a question, simply a statement of fact. The game was coming to a close and the odds were in his favor for once.

“What? No, of course not.” Twilight said quickly. “If I’m playing weakly its because I’m tired.”

“So ya know yer makin’ bad moves.” Again, a statement of fact.

“Well, I mean… if you’re getting that impression then…” she trailed off, knowing full well that she had been caught. She thought as she focused her gaze on the chessboard. “Are you losing on purpose?” she finally asked.

“Miss Sparkle, it’s chess. If Ah ain’t good enough ta win against ya, what makes ya think Ah’m good enough to lose to ya on purpose. Seems like it’ll take more thought to lose on purpose than ta win in the first place.”

“That’s what I thought. But after what Rainbow Dash said I couldn’t help but notice that in every game it just seemed…” she stopped for a moment, seeming to try to find the right words. The longer she stayed silent the more Mac’s gaze was drawn to the door. “I can’t really explain it. It just feels like I’m just doing what I’m supposed to do. I’ve read extensively on chess strategy and in every game it felt like I was reliving every scenario from those books. Not exactly, of course, but you make a move and I know all the books say to make this countermove. And then you make the move you’re supposed to make, the move the books say you’re supposed to make, and the move that anyone would make in order to win. But then, there’s this part towards the end of the game where you start doing what you’re not supposed to do. It just feels…scripted.”

The two remained silent for a few moments before Macintosh moved his remaining bishop. “Checkmate,” he said. “Ah should get going. Applejack’s probably worried sick.” He stood up and rolled his shoulders to ease the stiffness in them.

“Yeah, she probably is.” Twilight said absently, her focus on her king as her hoof hovered over it as if trying to find an escape. But there was none. “You’ll be back right?”

“So long as we don’t play anymore chess,” he said before making his way to the library’s front door and passing through to the other side.

-*-

The next day found Macintosh in the early morning hours on his way to the library yet again. Applejack had made her suspicions quite clear the previous day, grilling her older brother nonstop about where he had spent the night. He had finally submitted, and when he finally told her the truth he had to swear up and down that nothing happened. He was a little disappointed in his little sister. Sure she might have had enough reason not to trust him, but he would have thought she would have placed more trust in one of her closest friends. But then again, maybe it was because Twilight was such a good friend that his sister was so protective of her.

But he had enough of trying to dissect his sister’s motivations by the time he reached Twilight’s home. It wasn’t as early as it had been during his visit yesterday, but it was still before the library’s usual hours so he expected to wait outside for a bit. However, that didn’t turn out to be the case as the door opened as he approached it. The purple unicorn gave him a rather too-optimistic smile for his comfort. He knew that smile, he’d seen it on Applejack at least hundreds of times and had even begun to recognize it on Rainbow Dash and Rarity. It was the smile of a mare with a scheme.

“Hey Macintosh. C’mon in, I brewed some tea,” she said as she walked into her home. If the statement had been meant to make him feel comfortable, it had the opposite effect. He pondered for a moment whether it would be rude to just turn around and act as if he hadn’t seen her before he finally decided to follow her in. The sweet smell of honey and tea filled the main floor of the library, the source coming from two steaming mugs on the table that had previously held their chess game.

Twilight took her same spot as yesterday, several pieces of wood in front of her. He hesitated at the door for a moment before walking to occupy his usual spot across from her. He examined the sixty-something pieces of wood more closely. They were small, probably about half as long as a quill, and each one was carved into a block. Some were shaped straight, others bent at a right angle, and still others were perfect cubes.

“I thought you might enjoy a brainteaser,” Twilight said with that same smile. “All you have to do is arrange these blocks to form a cube.”

“Sounds simple enough,” he said, though his suspicions were still at the forefront of his mind. “Anythin’ else, like a time limit or somethin’?”

“Nope. Take as long as you want.”

“Ah’m gonna take ya on that,” he said. And she only smiled back at him. He sincerely didn’t think she knew exactly what she was getting into.

Big Macintosh stared at the pieces of wood in front of him. And then he stared. And then he stared some more. Every once in a while he would move a piece out of his direct line of sight and into his peripheral vision, but for the most part he stayed still. His mind was whirring and thinking, slowly putting the pieces together within his mind’s eye.

As much as he was staring at the blocks, Twilight was staring at him. At first she would pass the time by sipping at her tea, but as time went on she decided to get some work done and organize some of the shelves. After a while the library opened and her patrons occupied most of her time.

The red pony didn’t know how much time had past before he had pushed every piece out of his line of sight. He nodded to himself before manipulating the pieces with both hooves. He stood several blocks on their ends and stacked them upon each other until he finally placed the last piece to create a perfect cube.

“Big Macintosh, that was amazing.” Twilight said as she walked over to him to examine the cube.

“What?” Mac exclaimed in genuine surprise. “What’s so amazin’ about puttin’ a bunch of blocks together in,” he took a quick look at the clock, “five hours?”

Twilight looked at him as if he had asked who raised the sun. “You’re kidding right? Almost every pony that tries can’t even solve this puzzle at all, and you did it in your first try.”

“So? All Ah did was just picture how the pieces fit together and get them outta my way once Ah was done with ‘em. It’s like doing math in my hea-”

“What’s four thousand six hundred and eighty three times five hundred forty?”

He rolled his eyes. “Miss Sparkle, do you know what that comes out to?”

“Uh…no,” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “Sorry. But, all modesty aside, you can’t possibly think that it’s normal to solve this puzzle by just visualizing the pieces fitting together.”

He shrugged. “Ah wouldn’t know.”

Twilight rubbed her head with a hoof as if trying to ease a headache. But suddenly her expression brightened and she made her way to one of the bookshelves surrounding them. She came back with a rather thick tome hovering above her. Carefully she placed the book in front of him. With a weary gaze he read the title: A Survey of Ancient and Contemporary Philosophy. He didn’t like where this was going at all.

“No,” he quickly said as he pushed the book away from him like a diseased rat.

“Please,” she said, “I really think it’ll help reveal your true potential.”

“My true potential?” he repeated in disbelief. “Miss Sparkle, Ah think yer takin’ all this a might too seriously.”

“And I think you’re not taking this seriously enough. You’re smart, Macintosh, incredibly so. Don’t you want to explore your intelligence?”

He actually had to turn away from the purple mare as he tried to stifle the laughter threatening to burst from him. “Smart?” he managed to say, “C’mon Miss Sparkle, now yer just pullin’ my leg. We play a couple of games of chess and Ah solve a puzzle and all of a sudden yer sayin’ Ah’m smart.”

Twilight, understandably, didn’t look too pleased with him. “It’s not just that. It’s also because of the talks we have. You have insights that really make me think.”

“Aw heck, that’s just arguin’. Ah do that all the time with Applejack. And it ain’t like Ah’m bringin’ in big names like you do. All Ah got ta go on is my own life and common sense,” he said with a shrug. “How ‘bout we talk about somethin’ else,” he added.

“Why are you so against this?” she asked as she stood and made her way around the table to sit directly in front of him. He could see that she wasn’t going to give up on this. And by the tone of her voice, this debate was about to get much more heated.

“The only thing Ah’m against is you tryin’ ta see somethin’ that ain’t there. Look, Miss Sparkle, Ah ain’t dumb enough ta tell ya Ah’m stupid, or that there ain’t some hidden side of me that Ah don’t show anypony. ‘cause honestly everypony’s got somethin’ like that. But sorry, Ah ain’t smart.” Big Mac’s voice matched her tone as the situation went from a funny misunderstanding into an annoying and privacy-invading discussion.

Twilight was silent for a moment. “How do you define ‘smart’?” she asked. “Better yet, how do you define a smart pony?”

“Somepony that knows more than me.”

The studious unicorn was not impressed, and just lowered her eyelids with a frown. “Macintosh, please.”

It was the farmpony’s turn to rub his temple to ease the dull pounding quickly gaining force. He didn’t know whether it was the pain from his injuries, or the effort it took to solve the puzzle, or even if she was just hitting a nerve, but his patience was wearing very thin. “Ah dunno. Ah guess somepony that ponies go to fer advice, that ponies go to when they want an answer to a hard question, and that ponies go to so they could learn somethin’. A smart pony’s a pony that knows what ta say, when ta say it, and knows what’s right.”

“That’s a wise pony, Macintosh. How do you define a smart one?”

He didn’t answer her.

The quiet between the two lasted for several minutes, and in that time Macintosh could feel the blistering heat that had welled in his throat subside. He took a couple of deep breaths, while trying his hardest to hide the resulting pain, and tried to relax. The silence was finally broken by the sound of leather sliding over wood as Twilight brought the displaced tome back towards him. “Just read the book, Macintosh, please.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

His eyes wandered from her to the book and then back to her. He knew he had no choice. Silently he turned to face the table and opened to the first page. Twilight smiled at him before settling down next to him and levitating a book towards her. The two read silently next to each other.

To read that damn book was like talking to Twilight at her most theoretical. His mind simply could not grasp at something that didn’t exist. And the words themselves were an entire beast in and of themselves. Long multisyllabic words that, while he could nail their pronunciation after a couple of tries, he could not even begin to guess at a definition. If this was what he was supposed to read in order to ‘reveal his true potential’ then quite honestly he would rather live the rest of his life as a dumb hick.

Finally, after a whole hour, he gave up.

He slid the book away from him, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “It’s like a bunch of ponies tryin’ ta make rules for a game with no board, no dice, no pieces, nothin’. Just nothin’.”

“This is important,” Twilight said as she looked up from her book. “They’re trying to define what it means to be. How we obtain things like knowledge and meaning.”

“Ya say those words as if that’s all there is ta livin’. Ah rather not waste time thinkin’ ‘bout things that Ah can’t use.”

“It’s not a waste of time,” she said, her voice louder and much more tense as all the fire that had dulled roared back to life. “These things are important. The unexamined life isn’t worth living.”

“A life worth livin’ don’t need ta be examined. See, Miss Sparkle, Ah can say things that sound good too.” His voice matched hers in volume and frustration.

Twilight shook her head with an exasperated groan. “It’s a quote from a great philos-“

“Ah know what it is, Miss Sparkle,” he said, running a hoof through his mane. “Ya know why Ah don’t wanna be smart? It’s ‘cause it seems like all smart ponies do is repeat things other smart ponies said so they sound smarter fer sayin’ it. Smart doesn’t pull a plow, smart doesn’t fix a barn roof, smart doesn’t fight off pests from apple trees.”

“Neither do you,” Twilight snapped.

If she wanted to hurt him, she succeeded. All the feelings of being useless and worthless crushed him like a cold iron vice. The dull aches he had forgotten suddenly grew into dire wounds, and suddenly it became harder to swallow.

“Ah know,” he said quietly as he stood up. With as much dignity as he could muster he silently walked past her and towards the exit. Neither of them said a word as he left.

-*-

The rest of the afternoon was simply unbearable. He confined himself to his room, feeling completely and utterly forlorn. Worse yet, Applejack just wouldn’t stop her unrelenting barrage of questions of what happened in the library. It wasn’t until he finally snapped at her to leave him alone did she actually stop asking. He didn’t see much of her after that. He didn’t see much of anyone after that.

It wasn’t until the next morning that he finally had enough of wallowing in self-pity. With a grunt of effort he got up from his bed. He stretched out his legs and shook his head to properly wake up before putting on his harness, exiting his room, and descending the stairs to the main floor.

He could smell the sweet scent of apple-cinnamon pancakes get stronger as he descended. The smell hit him full force as he entered the kitchen where Granny Smith was busily bustling about preparing breakfast. She smiled as she saw him come in and quickly set a plate for him at the table.

“Mornin’ dear, Yer just in time for breakfast. Say, did I ever tell ya how I met yer grandfather in a fancy shmancy party in Canterlot?” she said.

“Little late on the draw there, Granny.” Big Mac replied as he took a quick glance of the plate stacked with pancakes. “Ah ain’t feelin’ too hungry. Ah think Ah’ll just grab an apple.” He said little else as he left the kitchen and went out of the farmhouse.

The sun had already risen above the horizon, so there wasn’t any pretty sunrise to cheer him up today. He aimlessly wandered around the fields and the rows of apple trees, hoping for an opportunity to do some actual work. But it never came. So with his head hung low he finally decided to just lie down on his side beneath a tree and just let the rest of the day pass him by. Slowly his eyelids began to fall as he gave up on trying to do anything useful. He didn’t know how long he had been asleep before he heard the voice.

“Macintosh?” He didn’t want to open his eyes, and he sure as hell didn’t want to see the purple unicorn right now. Even if he was wondering why she was even here in the first place. He shut his eyes tighter and rolled around to face away from her. The part of him still licking his wounds told him to dismiss her with silence, but the more rational part knew it wouldn’t do anyone any good to hold a grudge. Besides, he wasn’t smart enough to remember a grudge anyway.

“If ya want me ta say Ah’m sorry ‘bout making fun of smart ponies, then Ah’m sorry. And Ah’m sorry if Ah offended ya.” he said.

“No, it’s not that,” she whispered. “I know I went too far, and I’m sorry I said something that hurt you so much. But I still think your smart, even if you don’t think that’s a good thing. So I want to ask a favor.”

Big Macintosh ear quivered as he heard that last sentence leave her. All was forgiven as he got on all fours and stared at the unicorn. “A favor?”

She nodded. “I want to volunteer to do some work around Sweet Apple Acres.”

He gave her a soft smile. “You don’t got anything ta prove to me, Miss Sparkle.”

“I think I do. I want to show you that smart ponies can work hard too,” she said.

“Ah heck, Miss Sparkle, Ah didn’t really mean all that. Truth be told Ah know ya can work hard. Only thing is Ah never had any use fer bein’ smart. Ah ain’t much inta writin’ or readin’ or higher mathematics or anythin’ else like that anymore. Ah pull a plow, Ah don’t need any brains ta do that.”

Her eyes narrowed in thought as the two ponies locked gazes. “That’s what it all comes down to, isn’t it? You don’t have any use for abstract thought so you think it’s no use to you.”

“Kinda redundant, Miss Sparkle,” he said. He walked past her and towards the barn. Twilight walked alongside him, not willing to let go of the conversation.

“But that’s just not true, Big Macintosh.” She stopped for a moment and brought a hoof to her chin. Her eyes perked up before she ran up to catch up to the farmpony. “Okay, let’s take a hypothetical situation and say that there’s a pony who does the exact opposite and stays inside all day and does nothing but read and think.”

“That pony sounds awfully familiar,” Big Mac said with a smile.

“Hey I’ve been getting out more often since I’ve moved to Ponyville.” Twilight said quickly.

“Look, Ah know what yer tryin’ ta say. Yer gonna say somethin’ about balancing between bein’ smart and bein’ strong.” The two finally arrived at the barn and Big Macintosh hurriedly opened its doors. He led her inside and towards a shelf that held a saddlebag with a picture of a squash on its side. “But Ah don’t really believe that. Sure, ya gotta get out sometimes so ya don’t get fat an’ lazy and ya gotta think sometimes so you ain’t as dumb as dirt. But other that that, well, ain’t really a point ta do more than what ya need.”

“How do you now how much you need?” Twilight asked him.

“Ya feel it, Ah guess.” Big Mac said, though his voice gave away to his lack of conviction. “Ya still wanna volunteer yer time?” he asked her before she could notice.

She nodded. “Only if you promise to give that philosophy book another try.”

Big Mac was silent for a few moments. “Ah’ll think about it.” He grabbed the saddlebag and draped it across Twilight, her knees buckling slightly under the weight. “C’mon, we gotta plant those summer squash in the southern field.” He made his way out of the barn with Twilight struggling to keep up. Seeing her effort, he slowed down to walk beside her.

“Applejack wouldn’t let you plant seeds?” she asked.

“She thought they might be too much weight fer my back. Good thing Ah got yours,” he said. It didn’t take long for them to reach the field.

“Why is it only half plowed?”

Big Macintosh didn’t say anything for a minute as the memories crept into the forefront of his mind. He shook his head to push the thoughts away before he finally answered her. “Ah couldn’t finish it.”

“Oh,” was all she said. The two remained silent for a few minutes. He took the time to look up at the sun and realize that it was about a couple of hours after noon. After a while Twilight finally stepped onto the field, and began to plant the seeds with her magic. He stepped towards her and followed alongside her, grabbing a hoof-full of seeds and carefully scattering them. The pair worked without saying a word, and Big Mac couldn’t help but notice that Twilight kept looking over at the unplowed half of the field. They didn’t talk until the plowed half was completely seeded.

“You know,” Twilight began, “with a bit of magic I can have the rest of this field plowed in no time.”

He shook his head. “Plowin’ is my job, Miss Sparkle.”

“Look, I know how proud the Apple family can be. But there’s no shame in receiving help.”

He thought for a second. Truth be told pride had nothing to do with it. “Ah’ll tell ya what, if ya can pull that plow and do that unfinished row there, without magic, Ah’ll let ya do the rest with magic.” He knew she’d never be able to do it, they both knew. He hoped she would just drop the subject, but he had no such luck.

“Alright, it’s a deal,” she said with a smile. She began walking towards the barn, but Big Mac quickly stopped her with a hoof on her shoulder.

“Hold on. Yer gonna need this.” He slipped his harness off and held it out to her. Twilight carried it in her magic and looked at it for a several seconds before slipping it onto her own neck. As soon as her magic disappeared the collar plummeted to the ground, dragging her head along for the ride. She grunted as she tried her hardest to raise her head and the weight holding her down. Big Mac looked at her struggle for a while. He was actually impressed. The sort of determination she showed was something he expected from Rainbow Dash or his own sister, not from a bookworm who stayed inside most days.

After a few more moments he finally spoke. “Yer not gonna get anywhere if ya keep doin’ that. Roll it onto yer shoulders and lift with yer forelegs.”

Twilight stopped moving as she took in his instructions. She did as he said and with a grunt managed to stand up on bended knees. Big Mac approached her and removed the bag of seeds from her back, and instantly her legs straightened a bit more. He slung the bag onto his own back, wincing as he did, and stood next to her.

“Use some magic to take the weight off. Ah won’t hold it against ya,” he said as he started walking towards the barn.

She nodded and lifted the collar slightly with her magic so that it became centered around her neck. She caught up to Big Mac and the two entered the barn together. He placed the saddlebag back to its original place before going to the back corner where Applejack had placed his plow. But to his surprise, its handles were chained and padlocked to a pair of iron eyes bolted to a metal plate screwed onto one of the planks composing the barn’s wall.

“That’s new,” he muttered under his breath.

“Applejack sure is cautious,” Twilight said as she examined the pieces of metalwork.

“She just knows me.” Big Mac replied as he turned his back to the metal plate. With a well-aimed kick he bashed his back hoof through the wood, sending splinters and the metal assembly out of the barn. He pulled on the chain to bring the metal plate, now attached to nothing but a chunk of wood, back inside.

“Big Mac your… family’s barn,” Twilight said, her eyes glued to the gaping hole he made.

“It’s just a barn Miss Sparkle. Besides, it’ll give me somethin’ ta do once Ah’m all healed up.”

“Won’t Applejack be mad?” she asked.

“Eeyup, but she’s workin’ the apple stand so Ah figure Ah got a few hours ‘til then. Even more if she doesn’t notice the hole, she tends ta miss things when she’s tired,” he said before biting one of the handles of the plow. He braced himself for the pain sure to come and picked up the implement. Seeing his effort, Twilight quickly enveloped the plow in magic and carried it along with him. They navigated their way to the southern field, the long chain and ropes dragging behind them.

They finally set the plow on the unfinished trench and immediately Big Mac took the ropes and attached it to the harness. Once he was sure Twilight was properly equipped, he took a spot by the side of the turf and watched as her gaze shifted from Big Mac to the plow behind her.

“Uh,” she hesitated, “should I start now?”

“Now would be good,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady despite his growing amusement.

She nodded and began to pull against the floating collar around her neck, but as hard as she tried the plow stayed stubbornly in place. She didn’t give up, however, and continued to pull as hard as she could, her eyes shut tight from the strain. All the while Big Mac was watching her with an observant eye, and he smiled a little when he saw the plow move forward a tiny bit.

He quietly rose from his position and approached the plow from behind. He grabbed the looped chain in his teeth before stepping forward to stand next to Twilight. He dropped the chain and pulled against it as it fell to his chest, creating a makeshift harness rigged to the plow. The farm implement lurched forward, and Twilight opened her eyes in surprise.

“But you’re injured,” she said.

“Ah’m fine. Ah ain’t gotta put as much effort with ya helpin’.” It was true. Though Twilight by herself couldn’t pull the plow, she did contribute enough strength to significantly ease the burden. Even so, he made sure to keep the plow even between the two despite the growing pain in his chest.

The unicorn didn’t press the issue, and the two worked quietly to bring the plow to the other side of the field. Their slow pace delayed them a bit but they eventually reached their goal, worn but not exhausted.

“A deal’s a deal. Ya can do the rest with magic,” Big Mac said as he wiped the sweat off his head with a foreleg.

“Actually,” Twilight said slowly, “I wouldn’t mind doing the rest of the field like this. I… want to do everything that needs to be done.”

The farmpony could only stare at her until a smile formed. “If ya think yer up to it, sugarcube.”

The two slowly repositioned the plow and began a new row in the ground. They quietly shouldered their labor and didn’t stop until the job was done. For Big Mac it was absolutely euphoric to be working the field again after so long, even if the occasional ache stopped him from putting his all into it. He was happy all the same. By the time the rest of the field lied in neat rows the two ponies were drenched in sweat. But the job had yet to be finished.

The pair unhitched themselves from the plow and lifted the farm tool back into the barn before coming out with the saddlebag filled with squash seeds. They scattered them across the rest of the field, still working in silence all the while. It wasn’t until the last seed had been planted that everything that needed to be done was done.

“C’mon, there’s some cold apple juice waitin’ fer us inside,” Big Mac said as he placed the bag of seeds back on the shelf. Twilight nodded in agreement, too worn out and out of breath to actually form a coherent sentence. As he watched her gulp down air he couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, Ah remember my first time. Whole body feels numb, don’t it?” he said with a smile. The unicorn could only nod.
The pair trudged along towards the farmhouse as Big Mac took the time to look up at the sky again. Judging by the downward path of the sun they had been hard at work for at least a couple of hours. To him, it was a couple of hours well spent.

The two exhausted ponies entered the farmhouse and Big Mac quickly led the purple unicorn to the kitchen. He rummaged through the fridge for a moment before producing two bottles of apple juice. Twilight smiled as he placed a bottle in front of her, and gladly drank a sip from its straw. While Big Mac removed the straw on his, preferring to guzzle the whole thing down as quickly as possible. The drink brought back some energy into his tired frame.

“Seems like a lot ta do just ta get me ta read a book,” Big Mac said as Twilight sipped her drink. She wouldn’t meet his gaze, instead looking at the surface of the table. He could practically hear the gears whirling inside her head.

“I… wanted to prove to you that if I could work on a farm then you could read a philosophy book, and if I could embrace physical labor then you could embrace mental pursuits,” she said before returning to her drink.

“Lotta trouble even so,” Big Mac said. “But Ah s’ppose if ya could work a plow for an hour it seems kinda foolish of me ta quit on that book.” He hummed in thought as he turned his head towards the kitchen’s doorway and the farmhouse’s front door beyond. He quietly walked out, Twilight’s gaze following him as he left before she got up to catch up to him. It wasn’t long before the two found themselves on the path towards Ponyville.

“Where are we going?” Twilight asked though she knew the answer full well judging by her smile.

“To the library. And if Ah’m gonna do this, Miss Sparkle, yer gonna have ta stop grinnin’ like that.” She didn’t say anything though the grin remained, much to his annoyance.

The two entered the library in silence. While Twilight spoke to Spike, who was handling the front desk, Big Mac turned his attention to the table. He was surprised to find that the book of philosophy was still open to the last page he read, exactly where he had left it last. He slumped in front of the table before bringing the book towards him. Determined to power through the damn thing, he read and read and read. It didn’t take long for Twilight to sit next to him, her gaze focused on his face.

“You look like you’re in pain.” Twilight said with a chuckle. Big Mac ignored her, and instead simply placed a hoof on the open page.

“What’s this word mean?” he asked.

Twilight leaned her head in to read the word. “Metaphysics? It literally means ‘beyond physics’ and it’s the branch of philosophy that deals with questions like ‘What is’, and ‘what is it like’. Pretty much the study of the fundamentals of existence.”

“You- you can’t be serious.” Big Mac said, utterly dumbfounded. With a slight shake of his head, he continued reading. Every so often he would point to a word for Twilight to define and every time, without fail, the red stallion would be rendered speechless by its definition. By the time he was through with the whole book, a whole four hours later, he no longer felt the strength to keep his head up. With a quiet thud his head fell to the table. He took a deep breath as he felt a hoof run through his mane.

“Yeah, I remember my first time.” Twilight said. “Your mind feels pretty numb, doesn’t it?”

He could only nod. He lifted up his head with a quiet grunt before looking at the unicorn next to him. “There, Ah did it. Now if ya don’t mind Ah’d like ta go back ta not carin’ about this stuff.”

Twilight chuckled. “For now maybe, but only if I can get another favor.”

“What?” Big Mac asked, quietly dreading what she would ask of him.

“Can you teach me how to make a paper dart?”

He smiled in relief. “Of course Ah can.”

The two spent most of the afternoon and much of the night making paper darts. Twilight's first attempts turned out as crumpled mounds of paper, but as the day waned they became better and better. All the while the two talked, but amazingly not through their usual debate. It seemed that for the first time they actually just had a simple conversation about each other. She would tell him about life as a librarian, her favorite books, stories of her and her friends, and how different Ponyville was to Canterlot. He, in turn, would talk about work on the farm, his favorite kinds of apples, stories about his family, and how different Canterlot was from Ponyville. Big Mac had to admit, he liked this kind of talking a bit more. It was nice to just enjoy her company without having to devote so much energy into what to say. He didn’t have to impress her with these talks.

By the time the sun had set and the moon had risen, her paper darts were almost of the same quality as Big Mac’s…almost. Once she got the hang of actually throwing them with her magic, the two were completely surrounded by darts piled about half as tall as Big Macintosh.

“Need any help cleanin’ up?” Big Macintosh asked as he noticed the library’s floor completely covered in white.

“No, it’s fine.” Twilight said as she levitated every single one of the three hundred or so paper darts. “See? I’ll just throw these in the trash.”

He nodded as he turned his head to look at the clock. To his surprise they were well into the pre-dawn hours. It was hard to believe that he had spent an entire night doing nothing but fold paper.

“Actually, Miss Sparkle,” Big Mac said as an idea came into his sleep-deprived head, “Ah got a better idea. How ‘bout we go to that observatory of yers with them.”

She stared at him quizzically for a moment before she slowly broke into a smile as she realized his plan. He smiled back at her before they both walked towards the stairs and ascended them, the paper darts following them like a low-hanging cloud.

Once they stood upon Twilight’s observatory, the unicorn gently stacked the darts between them as neatly as she could. Big Mac, meanwhile, looked off into the still just-rising sun, it’s light only barely illuminating the very highest points of Ponyville. It wouldn’t be long now, maybe an hour or less, before the sun rose completely.

“How do you want to do it?” Twilight asked, “All at once or one at a time?”

“We got time ta spare, don’t we?” he said before grabbing a paper dart in his mouth. With a flick of his head he sent it flying off the deck. It managed to catch just a spark of golden light before it fell to hit the cold and blue-shaded ground below.

“Yeah. We do,” she said. One of the darts glowed with magic before being launched into the sky.

The two took their time and saved their words as they sent the folded papers flying throughout Ponyville. It wasn’t long before the sun had risen above the horizon and the streets below began to fill with ponies going about their business. When one of Twilight’s darts accidentally hit a pony on the street she hesitated to throw another one. She looked over at Big Mac, who only smiled at her before grabbing another dart and throwing it. She returned his smile before sending another paper flying. By the time they ran out, the streets and even some rooftops were littered with paper darts. And down below was a rather large group of ponies shouting at them.

“We’re in so much trouble.”

“Eeyup.”

6. Please Smile

Please Smile

“Jeez,” Rainbow Dash said with a laugh, “how many of those things did you guys make?” She sauntered past the bookshelves containing fiction and idly glanced at the titles passing before her eyes. She finally decided on a book and grabbed it before walking towards the table and laying it open in front of her.

“About three hundred and fifty by my count,” Twilight answered her as she brought a mug of tea to Rarity sitting on a pillow by the table. The purple unicorn joined her friend with her own mug.

“Wow!” Pinkie Pie said with a bounce to emphasize the syllable. “How long did it take you two?”

“Most of the night,” she said as she looked at the only paper dart left on the table. “Thanks again for helping us clean them all up.”

“Think nothing of it, dear,” Rarity said as she finished sipping her tea. “It’s what friends are for, after all. And with all that commotion I just couldn’t help but investigate.”

Big Macintosh just stayed silent in his place a little farther removed from everyone else. He smiled as he saw the four close friends interact with each other. He couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved since most of their attention was focused on each other rather than him. He could’ve just excused himself and went home, but a part of him wanted to stay as long as possible.

That was until the library’s door slammed open and a familiar blond-maned mare stormed inside, kicking the door shut behind her with a loud bang. She took four steps in before she spoke in a harsh whisper. “You,” she pointed to Twilight, “and you,” and then to Big Macintosh, “come here.”

The two exchanged nervous glances before walking towards Applejack. They sat down in front her and she immediately began to pace back and forth. She was seething; her brisk steps and violent shakes of her head were proof enough. Nothing was said for a few minutes, but Big Mac could see his sister’s mind hard at work for the proper words to say (or scream as the case may be).

“Just what in the heck were you two thinkin’? Yer just damn lucky you two didn’t get three hundred tickets for litterin'. The only reason y’all didn’t was ‘cause it would’ve taken as much paper to write the tickets as you two threw around in the first place and the mayor thought it’d be bad publicity ta be that wasteful.”

Neither Big Mac nor Twilight could look Applejack in the eye, while Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie stood in silence by the library’s wall and simply watched the scene unfolding before them. The air was so tense it was palpable. So much so that Big Mac assumed the only reason the other three were still here was because he and Twilight were blocking the exit.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Twilight said. “We cleaned up the mess we made and everything turned out okay.”

“You were lucky,” she retorted. “Ah expected this from him, he doesn’t give a damn. But Ah thought ya had more sense than that, Twilight.”

“C’mon, sis, go easy on ‘er. It was my idea,” Big Mac said.

“Oh believe me, Mac, Ah haven’t even started on ya. A hole in the barn, plowin’ and planting a field when ya know damn well ya ain’t supposed ta work. Do ya want ta make yer injuries worse? Do ya want to spend the rest of yer life stuck in a bed? Ah bet ya’ll be really happy then.”

“Applejack,” Twilight began, “the field was-“

“You know Ah don’t,” Big Mac interrupted. “But ya can’t treat me like a dang foal for as long as Ah’m injured.”

Applejack glared at him. “Ah wouldn’t need ta if you didn’t act like one. This is the last straw, Mac. Ah want ya on the farm in plain sight where Ah can keep an eye on ya.”

“You can’t do that!” he said, matching his sister’s glare.

“The hell Ah can’t. Ya won’t blow your damn nose without me seein’ it and you sure as hell won’t do any work on my watch. And just ta make sure,” Applejack stood in front of her brother and reached out a foreleg towards him, “gimme yer harness.”

The Apple siblings glared at each other, neither one giving in. The room was dead still for several minutes, no one dumb enough to speak a single word.

“Nnope.”

“Give. Me. Your. Harness.”

“Maybe you should,” Twilight whispered next to him. Big Macintosh broke his gaze from his sister and stared at the unicorn in disbelief.

“But-“ he stammered.

“Yeah, big guy,” Rainbow pitched in. “I know it sucks but, you know, doctors orders.”

“Yes, sweetie, you wouldn’t want to make things worse, would you?”

“C’mon Macky, not working means you have lots more time for fun!”

Big Macintosh looked at them in turn and saw faces full of worried eyes and reassuring smiles, but none of them made him feel any better. He had expected a little support, but, now that he really thought about it, he didn’t know why they would be on his side when they were all really Applejack’s friends. Slowly, he brought a hoof to the familiar wood around his neck. Sure, he had been without it hundreds of times. But to have it taken away from him, it was as if he was giving up on his purpose. The very reason for his existence. It marked him as a workpony, always had. Without it, what good was he?

He felt the fight in him shrink and shrivel away. His glare disappeared and he looked down at the library’s floor. He slipped his collar off and allowed it to fall on the floor with a heavy thud. Without saying a word and without looking up, he stood, walked to the door, and made his leave. What was the point in staying when no one had any use for him?

-*-

He didn’t argue with Applejack anymore. He hardly did anything anymore. The rest of the week was spent lying beneath the shade of an apple tree. Sometimes, rarely, he would walk up and down the rows of trees looking for any signs of infestation or disease. It was a fool’s errand, but it made him feel better. At least, that’s what he told himself.

Every fifteen minutes or so Applejack would come by to make sure he stayed out of trouble. He didn’t fight it. In fact, he had come to accept it, and that dismal fact did nothing for his morale.

The worst part was that he wasn’t sad, though he felt a twinge of it. Rather, it was as if he just didn’t care about anything anymore. He didn’t care that he wasn’t allowed to work, he didn’t care that Applejack took up the brunt of the farm’s labor upon her shoulders, he didn’t care that he was completely and utterly useless. He simply waited for the day to pass him by.

Finally finished with his four hundredth walk around the orchard, the farmpony hung his head and fell to his side beneath a tree. The only thing left to do was to wait out the day. Not even the faint smell of sugar and vanilla wafting through the orchard could cheer him up. Wait.

“Hey Macky.” Pinkie’s singsong voice called out, and before Big Mac could even begin to look around he felt a weight suddenly press on his side. He turned his head to find the perky pink pony playfully perched upon him, her huge eyes hovering above so close their noses touched.

“Howdy Miss Pie,” he monotoned as he turned his head back to the side.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asked as she bounced off of him and walked to sit in front of his line of sight. When he didn’t say anything, she lowered her head and cocked it to the side to catch his gaze. “Well?”

“Eeyup.”

“That’s great!” she exclaimed as she leapt straight up into the air. “I was kinda worried after you left the library and as soon as I got a day off from Sugarcube Corner I came here right away to make sure you were okay. So anyway wow! I wish I thought about throwing that many paper darts but I would have done it all at once but I guess…”

Her ramblings continued on for a while, leaving Big Macintosh to simply listen quietly. Every so often he would catch his sister looking at them from somewhere out in the orchard, though once she was satisfied that he wasn’t doing anything labor-intensive she would quickly get back to her own work. Pinkie didn’t seem to notice and just continued with her talk.

“…so I thought if we got enough paper together…” Pinkie Pie trailed off as she seemed to notice Big Mac’s bored expression for what seemed like the first time. She brought her face closer to his and looked into his eyes with a focused gaze. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Just fine,” he said.

“You don’t look fine. You look unfine. Really really unfine.” She tilted her head again to look at him straight on. “Sad even,” she said as she stood back up. She rubbed her chin as she hummed aloud, the gears in her head spinning at full speed while Big Macintosh wondered if her mind went as fast as her mouth. It was a strange brainteaser, kind of like trying to figure out if the chicken or the egg came first.

Pinkie giggled, seemingly at her own thoughts or maybe at his. “Stay here okay, I’ll have you cheered up in no time,” she said.

“Miss Pie, Ah don’t really feel like bein’ cheered up,” he said. But Pinkie just ignored him and started bouncing down the rows of apple trees to who-knew-where. Big Macintosh didn’t say anything more, and just watched her leave. When she was out of sight he rolled onto his back and stared at the sunlight filtering through the canopy of leaves and flowers. He had to admit it was a pretty sight, though he would be enjoying it more if he felt the small sting of sweat in his eyes.

He silently hoped that he would be well enough by Applebuck season. Of course, it was months away and all logic would suppose that would be plenty enough time to recover. But the way his luck was going lately, he wouldn’t be surprised if a giant rock were to suddenly fall from the sky to crush him where he lied. But really, there wasn’t any point in thinking about the future right now.

“What are we looking at?”

He didn’t even bother to look around this time. The feeling of her curly mane pressing against his head was enough. She started talking again and he listened, letting her voice take his mind off his troubles.

“…long story short, I got you a present.”

His ears twitched at that last part. He slowly sat up to face her and saw, for the first time, a box about the size of Pinkie’s head sitting next to her. It was wrapped in glimmering red wrapping paper with a lid decorated with a ruddy orange bow. On the box’s side was a picture of a green apple half. He didn’t bother asking where she got this particular wrapping paper, he really didn’t want to know anyway.

Noticing his gaze, Pinkie Pie hopped up on all fours and pushed the box towards him with a huge grin on her face. With nothing better to do, Big Macintosh lowered his head to examine it more closely before placing a hoof beneath the lip of the lid. He lifted it up slowly, but before he could completely remove it the lid forcefully flew away from him. The next thing he knew a small alligator had its mouth clamped around his muzzle.

“Gotcha!” Pinkie Pie managed to say amongst a barrage of giggles. He simply watched her as she rolled around in the grass, obviously the only pony around who actually appreciated her joke. A few minutes passed before the giggling pony settled down enough to notice Big Mac’s bored expression laced with a bit of irritation at having to breathe moist air that smelled of spit.

“It’s a prank,” she said as if Big Mac’s problem was a simple issue of communication. She approached the stallion and placed her hooves around her pet. With a gentle pull she managed to release the alligator’s grip on Big Mac’s snout, a thick rope of spit bridging the two for a moment before breaking. He quickly cleaned his muzzle with a foreleg.

“You should've seen Twilight’s face when I pulled this prank on her. It was sooo funny!” She grinned at him and he just nodded his head lamely. He wasn’t angry, it wasn’t as if having his muzzle bitten by a reptile was new to him after all, he was just so damn tired even though he had no reason to be. So with a small yawn he lied back on his side beneath the shade.

“Well if that didn’t help, maybe…” she trailed off in another hum of thought. In an instant her face brightened. “Can you wait here for an hour?” she asked with a smile.

“Ain’t got nothin’ better ta do.”

“Perfect. I’ll be right back with something amazing!” She bounced away, leaving a trail of giggles behind her. He watched her go with a sigh and rolled over on his back, again facing the backlit canopy of foliage. Idly, he wondered what Pinkie Pie would bring him next.

“She ain’t botherin’ ya, is she?” Applejack’s voice caused him to turn his head towards his sister walking down the rows of trees. He briefly wondered if it had been fifteen minutes already. She approached him, and his heart fell as he saw the bag of seeds slung across her back.

“Nnope,” he said, turning his gaze back above to avoid looking at her. He heard the sound of hooves idly shuffling on the grass before Applejack spoke again.

“A’right, if ya need anythin’ just tell me.”

“Eeyup.”

“Are you,” Applejack approached him and her face filled up most of his line of sight as she looked down on him, “feelin’ okay?”

“Eeyup.”

It was obvious that she didn’t believe him. She opened her mouth as if to say something but decided against it. Instead, she just gave him a weak pat on his chest before heading off to continue her, and his, chores. Leaving him to continue his gazing. He didn’t know how much time passed when he heard the distinct sound of rustling leaves above him. He squinted his eyes to try to see anything amongst the green and white foliage, but saw nothing.

“Hey Macky.”

Big Macintosh turned his head to see who else but Pinkie Pie happily bouncing towards him with a bright pink box balanced precariously on her head. As she approached, Big Mac rolled around to sit and face the oncoming mass of pink and curls.

“Guess what I~ go~t.” Pinkie sang as she stopped in front of him. With a downward curve of her head, she dropped the pink box between them. Big Macintosh looked at it a bit before lazily staring at the mare. Her grin never shrunk for a moment. “It’s my very own Super Sweet Special Treat! Patent pending. One bite and you’ll be cheered up in no time, guar-an-teed.”

Casting her strange pronunciation aside, Big Mac took a second look at the pastry box. Without much thought he opened its lid, causing its walls to fall and reveal…a cupcake. Though larger than any cup he’d ever seen. If it weren’t for its pink wrapper decorated with balloons and the mountain of strawberry frosting and white sprinkles finishing the pastry at a point, he would have just called it a cake.

His gaze kept moving between the giant cupcake and Pinkie Pie, who only looked at him with a grin as she waited. With a mental shrug he lowered his head and looked for a place that wasn’t absolutely slathered in frosting. He had no such luck. He would have quit there, but Pinkie’s grin seemed to compel him to continue. So with a quick shake of his head he bit down deep through the two inches of frosting and into the sweet bread beneath. And how sweet it was. As he chewed he could actually feel his teeth rotting, and he cringed as the sugary mush crawled down his throat. He couldn’t take another bite, he could barely manage to lick his lips to clean the frosting smeared on his muzzle.

“Thanks,” he said as he wiped his mouth with a foreleg. He could feel Pinkie Pie’s unblinking gaze on him, urging him to take another bite. Instead, he pushed the undone box of cake towards the mare. “Ya can have the rest if ya want,” he said.

“Are you sure?” she asked as she eyed the cake. He only had to nod once before the pink pony dove head first into the dessert, causing Big Mac to raise a foreleg to protect his face from the sugary shrapnel. It only took a few seconds before Pinkie was licking her face clean. How she could stand that much sugar and bread he had no idea.

She grinned at him, but he just kept his usual bored expression. Slowly, her smile faded and was replaced by a thoughtful expression. “Still nothing, huh?” she asked as she circled around him as if he was on display. She poked him at random areas every now and then, his nose, his ribs, his chest, the top of his head. Finally she stopped in front of him with a hoof on her chin and her grin returned in full force. “This time I’ll get you up and going for sure! I hope you enjoy the sugar rush!” she exclaimed out of the blue before turning and bouncing away once again.

He watched her go with a bit of confusion. Sugar rush? Sure he had a bit of cake, and sure it was sweetened beyond all belief. But a single bite couldn’t possibly have much of an effect on a colt his size. Even so, he absently raised a hoof to knock on his harness before remembering it wasn’t there anymore. He shook his head at the realization and lied down on his back once again. But it didn’t last for long.

It started with a twitch in his back left leg. Then that twitch turned into a shiver. Quickly, the colt stood on his hooves and looked at his back leg tapping the ground. Strange, it seemed that the sudden onrush of energy was isolated to that one leg. Damn that Pinkie and her sweets, how the heck was that even possible? As he looked down at his leg, itching for something to do, an idea struck him. Carefully, he looked down the rows of apple trees for any sign of orange. Seeing none, he turned his back to the tree he had been lying under for the past few hours and lined up his twitching leg to the tree trunk.

“Don’t even think about it,” Applejack said as she appeared, seemingly from nowhere, behind the tree he was about to buck. Dejected, Big Mac lowered his hoof. Satisfied, Applejack continued down the orchard, pulling a small wagon of wicker baskets behind her. And that was the end of their interaction.

Big Macintosh shook his head as he fully turned around to face the tree. With a world-weary groan he idly thumped his head to rest on the trunk, causing it to quiver. The cool wood made him feel a bit better, if only slightly. Though he didn’t have time to fully enjoy it before he heard the fluttering of falling paper. He turned his head to see a sheet of card stock, folded in half, on the ground like a tiny tent. Its pink color gave him a quick idea of where it could have come from.

He didn’t really know if he wanted to open it or not. He didn’t really know if he wanted to waste more of Pinkie’s time. Or maybe he just had enough of her attempts. Still, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. So with a quick look around the orchard he went up to the card and flipped it over with his nose. Printed in curved and spastic writing were three words that sent a shiver down his spine. You are invited…

He hung his head, knowing exactly where this was going. Pinkie Pie throwing a party was about as inevitable as him going to a hospital. Though at least in a hospital no one forced him to a social event when he wasn’t feeling at all social. He read the rest of the invitation and gleaned out the details. When: well if the time on the card and the position of the sun were to be believed, he was already half an hour late at least. Where: the Apple family barn?

Another groan escaped his lips as he read the location. He had been avoiding the barn like the plague for the past few days. It didn’t contain anything but reminders of his recent slothful lifestyle: tools, barrels, wood planks, and his plow. Once upon a time he would go in the barn and just look at all the things that needed to be done and start doing them. But now, he was like a prisoner of his own injuries and that building only served as a remnant of his lost freedom.

But what else could he do? Leave Pinkie Pie and whoever else that decided to come to the party in the barn only for them to eventually seek him out? No. He’d go, maybe talk with his usual two-word vocabulary and leave early. He’d suffer through it because the last thing he wanted was for others to feel sorry for him. And for some strange reason, whenever he told ponies that he didn’t want to be bothered with a party they instantly assumed something was wrong.

His mental rant completed, he walked down the rows of apple trees towards the barn in the distance. He took his time, even though he was already late. There was no reason to rush, besides there would obviously be a pony peeking outside for him and they probably already saw him coming by now.

Finally after a few minutes, he arrived at the barn’s shutted doors. He pressed his ear against the wood to try and hear any noise within. But all he heard was silence. A bit confused, he opened the door and stepped into the darkness inside.

With a small whoosh the lanterns illuminated the straw covered space, and an instant later a pink pony bounded up from behind one of the stacks of bales. “Surprise!” she shouted at the top of her lungs as she bounded towards him with a hug. Big Macintosh pondered at the credibility of a surprise party when the pony being surprised received an invitation before taking a look around. Hundreds of balloons floated in the air and were held back only by the ceiling. Streamers and ribbons of every color imaginable hung from the walls and a giant five-tier cake covered in green frosting sat on a nearby table. But through all the decorations he quickly realized that there was something missing. He looked at her, the question on his face.

She noticed. “I tried to invite more ponies but a lot of ponies are busy during the day. Applejack is out working and Rainbow Dash is fixing the rainbow pools at the weather factory and Twilight is doing some research for the princesses and Ditzy’s re-re-re-redelivering today’s mail and Octavia has a recital with Lyra and Rose is out selling flowers and Bon Bon is making some candies for a fundraiser…”

With each ‘and’ Big Mac’s head drooped lower and lower. Not for the abysmal number of attendees to Pinkie’s, and by a lesser extent his, party. No, it was because every pony she listed was working and he was not. That thought obliterated any sort of contentment he might have been feeling today.

“…and Haystack is busy pulling haystacks and Derpy’s busy moving pianos and Caramel is busy with his marefriend and Mr. and Mrs. Cake are busy with a huge order of cupcakes and Rarity has a dress she’s working on and Pokey is busy poking things and Fluttershy is taking care of a sick bird and hey! Where are you going?”

Big Mac ignored her question as he made his way to the back of the barn. The hole he had made a few days ago had been stuffed with straw, a band-aid fix that would have to do until either he was fit enough to fix it properly or Applejack found the time to do it herself. Next to the stuffed hole was his plow and harness with chains looping in and out of every conceivable nook. They wrapped around the plow’s handles, around his yoke’s pegs, through the harness itself, and even around the plow’s blade until finally they ended at various points around the barn. Every support beam, every rafter, and everything bolted to the floor was wrapped in chain and helped keep his plow and harness securely in place. Applejack was not messing around this time. Which was good, because neither was he. Not anymore.

With a quick twist and crack of his neck he bit down hard into one of his plow’s handles and began to pull. He had enough of letting himself be ruled by the limitations of his body and the concern of his little sister who, though well meaning, could not begin to understand his need to feel useful. He had enough sitting around and doing nothing while the burden of his labor fell on his family. And he had enough of being told what to do. He was Big Buckin’ Macintosh Apple for Celestia’s sake and he was healed enough to do some damned work around here.

“What are you doing, Macky?” Pinkie Pie asked as she came to his side, but still he ignored her.

The barn itself seemed to groan and whine as his pull became stronger. He ignored the pain welling up in his chest and barrel and only focused on pulling his plow and harness free from the chains that bound them.

“Macky?”

“Get out,” he said firmly, his voice coming out clearly despite the plow in his mouth. He could hear the farm implement start to bend to his force and the groaning of wood and the low rumbling growl of bending metal filled the barn. He didn’t care, he’d break the whole damn thing if it meant freeing it. Heck, he’d enjoy rebuilding it.

Pinkie Pie took his resolute command to heart and dashed out of the barn, leaving him to complete his task. Big Mac could feel the plow start to splinter and crack but still he kept going. He was enveloped within the frustration and anger he had kept within for so long and all at once it was about to come loose. He didn’t think, not at all. His mind hadn’t been out of commission for a month and a half, his mind wasn’t keeping him from doing his duty to his family, his large mind covered in rippling thoughts was not what Ponyville knew him for, and so his mind stayed out of the equation.

“Big Macintosh, stop!” a voice cried out from the barn’s doorway. He ignored it, already knowing what it was going to say. Again it cried for him to cease, and again he paid it no mind. Soon he felt a set of teeth clamp onto his neck and he felt them try to pull him away, but he would not be pulled away. The teeth finally let go and in its place a sharp pain exploded from his side as he felt a swift kick to his ribs. He opened his mouth to grunt out his pain and collapsed. Applejack still had one mean buck.

“Are ya crazy! Of all the stupid things you’ve done in yer life this has got ta take the cake. What, ya wanna break yer plow and wait even longer for us ta replace it?” she screamed at him.

“So what if Ah do?” he yelled back at her as he stood up on all fours. “Ain’t none of yer business.”

“Course it’s my business. Yer my brother! So start actin’ like it.”

“What the hell’s that s’possed ta mean?”

“It means that yer so damn caught up with what you wanna do and how yer feelin’ that you don’t give two bits about what the rest of the family feels. Thank Celestia Pinkie came ta get me or who knows what ya would’ve gotten yerself into.”

Big Mac turned to glare at the pink pony standing beneath the doorway. Pinkie Pie immediately shrunk beneath his gaze before he directed it back to his sister.

“Like Ah said, what Ah get myself inta ain’t none of yer damn business so why don’t ya just leave me alone?” The Apple siblings glared at one another, neither one backing down nor neither one admitting that their eyes were watering.

“Ya want me ta leave ya alone?” Applejack’s voice became a deathly whisper, “Fine, cause its crystal clear ta me that you don’t care about this family. So go ahead, Mac, you go on and do what ya want. You won’t be hearin’ from me anymore, ‘cause Ah’ve stopped caring. Some brother you are.”

With gritted teeth and a low growl Big Macintosh stomped out of the barn, Pinkie Pie quickly getting out of his way. He heard his sister start to cry. It made him pause, for just a second, before he shook his head and continued on his way.

-*-

It was torture. For the first time Applejack had given him permission to work, and all he could was lie under an apple tree and mull over his thoughts. To think, after all he’d done for her and all he’d done for his family, Applejack would have the audacity to say he didn’t care. Yeah, because a pony that gave so much for the farm so his family could live a better life obviously didn’t care. Some sister she was.

He heard the approaching hoofsteps long before he smelled the familiar scent of vanilla and sugar. He didn’t know how to react or what emotions would overtake him when she would undoubtedly speak. So he just waited and allowed himself a few deep breaths.

“I know you didn’t mean to say those things,” she said, stopping a few feet away from him. He wondered why she didn’t get as close as she usually did. Maybe she was scared or, more likely, maybe she was disgusted with him. He wouldn’t have been surprised either way.

“I know that ponies get mad sometimes and say things they regret. I know that the Apple family always sticks close together. And I know that if I cheer you up, you’ll say you’re sorry and Applejack will be happy again. So that’s what I’ll do. Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”

Big Macintosh didn’t say anything and just kept staring off into the distance, still lost within his thoughts. He valued her sentiments though doubted whether she could really pull it off. For him to come off this slump now aggravated by the anger he felt, well, that would take a miracle. But he supposed if there was any pony that could do it, it would be Pinkie Pie. Part of him wanted her to succeed and make everything better, but another part knew that life just didn’t work that way.

“Can you do me a favor?” she continued. “Can you be by the path to Ponyville in an hour?”

He nodded and she left and he was alone and he hated it.

He stoop up and began a slow walk towards the all-familiar path. Having arrived, he made himself comfortable and lied down on the grass with his hooves tucked underneath him. Then he did what he did best. He waited. An hour came and went, but still nothing changed. A whole other hour passed by but, still, nothing happened. It wasn’t until three hours later, when the sun was beginning its lazy descent towards the horizon that a low rumble reverberated through the ground.

It started softly at first, barely felt and barely heard. But soon it became louder and stronger. Big Macintosh craned his neck to see as far down the path as he could, half-expecting to see a full on marching band coming from the distance. So he was surprised when instead he saw a single pink pony with a cacophony of various horns, drums, and cymbals strapped all over her body and playing in rhythm as she half-walked and half-bounced down the path. If it had been only the instruments, then perhaps he could get over his surprise. But it wasn’t.

Tied around her barrel were several dozen balloons of every conceivable color. Big Mac could have sworn she could have floated away at any moment. And indeed, it seemed that with every bounce she hovered in the air for a split second longer than what was normal. If it had been only the instruments and the balloons, then perhaps he could get over his surprise. But it wasn’t.

Strapped to her head was a long tube that looked a bit like a small cannon. And amongst all the clutter that covered her body she had still found room for a flagpole harnessed to her back. On its top was a bright pink flag with the words ‘Cheer Up Big Mac’ painted in thick bolded letters of red. He was actually impressed at how it seemed to flutter in a nonexistent breeze.

The actual tune Pinkie played was, he had to admit, quite catchy. It was a jaunty beat that reminded him of the traveling carnivals that sometimes frequented Ponyville. It was all cymbals and trumpets and proud, booming drums that matched with a pony’s beating heart and managed to bury itself deep within it. If it were any other day, he would have enjoyed it.

The song reached a crescendo as Pinkie Pie stopped to stand in front of the red stallion. Just when it sounded as if the tune were about to burst from its own grandeur the cannon strapped to Pinkie’s head gave a booming trumpet and blasted a shower of confetti skyward. It fluttered down in a rain of red, blue, white, and yellow. And amongst all the chaos the music died down as Pinkie struck a triumphant, show-stopping pose with her fore-hooves stretched high above her.

She kept her pose long after the last of the confetti landed. Long after any hope of Macintosh feeling any better had vanished. The world between red and pink held itself in absolute silence as slowly, ever so slowly, Pinkie’s grin got smaller and smaller. He noticed. When it had disappeared entirely he got up on his hooves and started to walk back towards the orchard. But Pinkie Pie wouldn’t give up that easily and followed close behind.

“Okay, I tried almost everything I could think of.” She quickly took off her equipment before speeding up and stopping in front of his path. “So how about I just ask what would make you happy? Go ahead and tell me and I’ll try my absolute best to help,” she said with a grin.

Big Mac quirked an eyebrow at her and stared for a long while. Did she really have to even ask? Was she not paying attention these last few days?

“Ah wanna work,” he said.

It was Pinkie’s turn to give him a confused gaze. “But working’s not fun. C’mon, I mean something really, really, really fun. Like eating sweets until you feel like your stomach’s going to explode or singing a song until your voice gives out or just hanging out with friends.”

Well, he got the response he expected to get. He walked around her and continued on his way, though Pinkie refused to be left behind and started walking beside him. She examined him for a long time like a doctor examines a patient until finally she just shook her head in defeat.

“Miss Pie, what would it be like if ya couldn’t throw parties anymore?”

She giggled. “Why would I stop? Throwing parties is the best thing ever! Especially if it’s for a special occasion. I don’t think there’s anything better than seeing a pony’s face light up when they walk into their birthday party or anniversary party or ‘get well soon’ party or unbirthday party or any other kind of party they have. And plus all the games and treats and friends! Parties are fun!” Being reminded of her most favoritest thing had the mare bouncing up and down uncontrollably all around the red stallion.

“Eeyup,” Big Macintosh whispered half-heartedly. He couldn’t really be surprised at her reaction, she was Pinkie Pie after all. “Now stop,” he said, and immediately she froze in place. “Ya feel that bubble in yer chest? The one that makes ya feel like yer doin’ something important?”

Pinkie Pie pursed her lips in thought before bringing a hoof to rub her chest. After a few seconds her face lit up. “Hey yeah, I do!” she exclaimed.

“A’right. Now this part’s important. Ah want ya ta close yer eyes and really imagine not bein’ able ta throw parties. Maybe ‘cause yer too injured or ‘cause no one needs a party anymore.”

“I…” she paused as she closed her eyes and tried her hardest to imagine. Her whole body seemed to react. Slowly her shoulders slumped and her mane and tail became limp. “I don’t like thinking about this.”

“Ya feel that weight in yer chest where that bubble used ta be? Like someone put a bunch of rocks where yer heart should be?”

Pinkie Pie nodded and opened her eyes.

“That’s how Ah’ve been feelin’ all day, and I don’t think that feelin’s going away anytime soon.”

Pinkie stood still for several seconds until, with a vigorous shake of her head, she returned back to the bubbly mare she was known to be. “Wow, I don’t ever want to think about that again,” she said with a smile.

Big Macintosh only nodded. “C’mon, ya must have somethin’ better to do on yer day off than hang around the farm.”

“Of course not,” Pinkie said, her grin never leaving her. “You’re my friend, you’re sad, and I want to cheer you up. And now that I know what you’re feeling that makes me want to cheer you up more.”

Her answer made him stop in his tracks, though it took a moment for Pinkie to notice and backtrack to him. “That’s sweet of ya Pinkie, but,” he stopped and tried to find the right words that could say how annoying she was getting while at the same time how much he cherished that annoyance. He couldn’t find them and so just struggled with the words he could think of. “Ah want ya ta know that-“

His words stopped and his body tensed as he saw the last pony he wanted to see walking towards him. Though only because he happened to be in her way. Her gaze was focused directly to some distant point behind him. He wasn’t about to lose this game of chicken and he started walking towards her as well, his eyes on the trees behind her.

Neither one of the stubborn Apples moved aside to let the other pass, and so both were forced to meet each other’s eyes with hard glares as they both stood at a standstill. No one said anything for several minutes, not the Apple siblings nor the pink pony trying her best to maintain her smile.

“Move,” Applejack said.

“Nnope.”

“Mac,” Applejack said through gritted teeth, “Ah ain’t kiddin’. Move. It’s for yer own dang good.”

“How about we go inside the barn and have a party. There’s still plenty of cake,” Pinkie Pie said, but she was ignored.

“Ah thought ya stopped carin’ ‘bout me,” Big Mac said.

“Ah did, so why don’t ya go and plow a field and then get yerself hurt for the hundredth time. See if Ah care.” Her voice got louder and louder with each word, which only served to get Big Mac’s voice raised as well.

“It’d be better than havin’ you watchin’ me every minute of the day,” he yelled.

“Well sorry if Ah wanted ta make sure my brother was safe,” she screamed.

“Can’t you two just please-“

“Shut it, Pinkie,” the Apples snapped at her before moving back to rip into each other. It only took them about a second to realize exactly what they had done. But by the time they turned to apologize, the pink pony was nowhere to be found. Gone with a speed rivaling any pegasus.

“Now look at what ya did,” Applejack said.

Big Mac ignored her accusation, there were more important matters to attend to. “You start with Ponyville, Ah’ll look around the farm.”

Applejack nodded and quickly ran towards town while Big Mac made his way to the barn. If Pinkie Pie was anywhere on the farm, it would probably be in the only place decorated for a party. But when he opened the doors he saw that everything was still. He looked in every crevice that could fit a hiding pony and even a few that were impossible for a pony to get into, but his search proved fruitless. He quickly left, though not without taking a sideways glance at the green-frosted cake on the table.

The apple orchard was the next to be searched. He walked up and down every single row of trees and took his time searching the boughs for any sign of pink. He even tapped the trunks to see if he could hear anything besides the shivering leaves, but all that got him were a few falling blossoms. Again he found nothing and he even combed the orchard a couple of more times for good measure.

She wasn’t in the farmhouse either, or the Cute Mark Crusaders Clubhouse, or even the dirt field where the Iron Pony competition and Sisterhooves Social were held. The sun was quickly setting and soon it would be dark. All he could do was hope that Applejack had more luck in Ponyville.

With a lowered head and guilty heart, Big Macintosh made his way to the hill where he could get the best view of the setting sun. Soon it would sink behind the apple trees and for a split second the greens, whites, and tinges of red would all burn the orange of the late sun. And for a split second it would seem as if autumn had arrived early, as if he had traveled forward in time where his life was back to normal and the horribleness of today could be tucked neatly into a forgettable past.

But it was only an illusion that would only last for only a split second. But what a split second it would be. So with a small sigh he laid himself down on the soft grass to stare at the western horizon and waited for the sun to disappear and waited for another day to go by. All he had now was time to waste, and he couldn’t waste it fast enough.

Steady hoofsteps made him turn his head to see his sister coming towards him. By her downcast eyes and forlorn frown he could tell she hadn’t had much luck tracking down Pinkie Pie. She met his gaze not with a glare but a gaze that reminded him that she was his little sister and she needed, more than anything else right now, her big brother.

He tapped the ground beside him and she took his invitation and lied down next to him. She leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder.

“We really screwed the pooch this time,” she whispered. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. “If ya would’ve just…” she started but trailed off with a sigh. Moments passed before she continued. “Ya know Ah ain’t too good at sayin’ sorry but… Ah’m sorry,” she said.

“Usually Ah’m the one that apologizes first,” he said as he looked at Applejack.

“Ah know but, even though Ah’m still mad as heck for what ya did, Ah can see why ya did it. And Ah bet me saying that…stuff, didn’t make ya feel better. Ya know Ah didn’t mean any of it, right?” Her gaze fell to her hooves as the question left her.

“Course ya did,” he said, causing Applejack’s head to snap up. “Ah ain’t ever known ya ta lie, at least not well. Don’t sugarcoat it, sugarcube. Somewhere deep down, ya really do feel like Ah don’t care about the family. That Ah don’t really care about you.”

“Well sorry if Ah don’t see how workin’ yerself ta death does any good for anypony,” she snapped. But just as soon as it had come, the anger vanished and was replaced by regret. She leaned back on the mass of red. “Yer gonna kill yerself if you keep on like this Mac, and Ah don’t wanna lose my brother. And Ah know full well Applebloom doesn’t wanna lose ya either.”

The eldest Apple couldn’t look his younger sister in the eye, and just turned his head back to staring up into the sky. He had missed his one moment of autumn, but that was okay. There was always tomorrow. The sun disappeared behind the horizon and the last touches of yellow, orange, and red faded away to make room for the night and its stars.

“And you ain’t smilin’ enough,” Applejack whispered. Big Mac looked at his sister with a puzzled gaze, silently waiting for her to continue. “Ya used to smile a whole lot when you were workin’, but now since you’ve been injured you hardly ever do.”

“Ah know, sugarcube,” he said softly. “Once Ah recover it’ll be better. Ah promise.” A small nod from Applejack told him she believed what he said. And the two fell back into silence. Though not for long.

A muted sniffle caused the Apple siblings to look to their side and find Pinkie Pie standing next to them. Her mane and tail were a bit more limp and lacked much of its usual poof. She walked in front of them and faced the two before wiping her eyes with a foreleg. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, her voice no longer laced with mirth. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a good enough friend. I couldn’t make either of you two happy and I just made everything worse. I’m sorry.”

“Aw sugarcube,” Applejack said as she got up. She walked up and wrapped her friend in a tight hug. “Ain’t nothin’ for ya to be sorry for. We’re the ones that should apologize to ya for snapping at ya like that. Ain’t that right, Mac?”

“Eeyup.”

Applejack smiled. “Why don’t ya come and watch the stars with us?”

A remnant of Pinkie’s usual grin appeared and the two mares turned to lie down next to Big Macintosh with Pinkie comfortably nestled between the Apple siblings.

“So does this mean everything’s okay and you’re all happy again?” she asked with a twinge of hope lighting up her voice.

“Well…” Applejack started.

“Nnope,” Big Mac finished.

“Oh,” Pinkie said, her ears tilted back. “Then, I still couldn’t make you happy.” The three were silent and just stared at the stars for several minutes. None of them were smiling and instead wallowed in a bit of self-indulgent misery.

“Ah don’t,” Big Macintosh surprised everyone, even himself, by breaking the silence. “Ah don’t think bein’ a friend means ya always try ta cheer up a friend. Sometimes the best ya can do is just be there an’ let ‘em know they ain’t alone. Bein’ happy and bein’ sad will happen whether or not ya got friends, but havin’ some just makes everythin’… better. The good an’ bad.”

“Yeah…” Applejack whispered. “Yeah,” she said a little louder. She quickly got up and turned to the other two. “Stay here, Ah’ll be right back.” Applejack quickly trotted off towards the farmhouse and barn leaving Pinkie and Macintosh alone.

“I don’t know,” Pinkie Pie said after a few seconds of silence. “I can’t see a sad pony and do nothing about it. I have to cheer them up and throw them a party or at least give them a cupcake.”

He nodded. “That’s fine, Pinkie. But Ah gotta tell ya, Ah think ponies ain’t cheered up by what ya do ta make ‘em happy, but by you just carin’ so much about them bein’ happy in the first place. Ah know Ah would’ve liked it a whole lot more if ya just had kept me company, rather than goin’ all out and throwin’ me a party and a one-pony parade.”

Pinkie smiled, not her usual full on grin but something more subdued. “Is it too late to start now?”

“Nnope.”

She nodded and pressed against him as if she could push the very sadness out of him. She couldn’t of course, but damn if his heart didn’t melt at her trying. And slowly, ever so slowly, his frown got just a bit smaller.

He hoped she noticed.

A small cough announced Applejack’s presence and for some reason Pinkie Pie took it as a signal to stop leaning against the red colt. Big Macintosh looked at his sister curiously. She had his harness around her neck and her hat between her teeth. Gently, she laid down the Stetson in front of her older brother.

“Ah think Ah know how to make all this right,” she said. “How ‘bout we switch jobs?”

Macintosh’s ear twitched at the statement, and the farm mare smiled. “Ah knew that’d get yer attention. Listen, Ah know how much ya work ‘round the farm just so Ah can have some free time with my friends. So Ah wanna return the favor. Ah’ll take care of the farm while you take care of anything my friends need a level-headed farmpony for. Maybe hangin’ around 'em might make ya feel better.”

“Hey that’s a great idea!” Pinkie chimed it. “It’ll be like working, only fun!”

He thought a while about her proposition. A few minutes passed before he spoke. “Ah dunno AJ. Sure me and yer friends have been getting’ along, but yer place is with them and mine is on the farm.”

Applejack chuckled. “What ‘place’? C’mon Mac, it ain’t like you can only work on the farm. Matter of fact, Ah like seein’ ya outta this place and enjoyin’ yerself for once. Kinda reminds me of when we were younger and ya weren’t a stick-in-the-mud all the time. Besides, it’ll only be until yer all healed up. And it’s spring, ain’t like there’s that much work ta be done ‘round here.”

“Ah still don’t know, wouldn’t it be kinda weird?” Big Mac asked.

“Of course not,” Pinkie Pie said. “We’re not just Applejack’s friends, we’re yours too. What’s so weird about hanging out with your friends?”

That really wasn’t what he meant, but as he looked back and forth between Pinkie and Applejack’s smiles he could only nod meekly. “A’right, Ah guess that’d be fine. But if there’s anythin’ ya need done on the farm Ah-“ he was cut off by his sister’s gentle nuzzling.

“Ah know,” Applejack said. She clenched her hat back into her teeth and placed it on her brother’s head. With a tilt of her head she examined her handiwork before nodding to herself and taking her place next to Pinkie Pie, lying down with a grunt as she tried not to let Big Mac’s yoke drop her too quickly.

“Ah know yer tryin’ ta be all symbolic and what not, but” Big Mac took the hat off of him as Pinkie Pie giggled, “we don’t gotta switch clothes.”

Applejack chuckled nervously. “Ah know, but Ah always wanted ta try this thing on. Makes me look stronger, don’t it?” She was met with blank stares and quickly slipped the yoke off her shoulders with a sheepish smile.

“Hey, you know what’ll help me feel better?” Pinkie Pie said suddenly.

“What’s that sugarcube?” Applejack asked.

“If you two scooted in closer.”

The Apple siblings looked at each other before Applejack just shrugged. The two shuffled closer to the pink pony and managed to squeeze a contented sigh out of her. No one said anything after that. The three earth ponies were satisfied with just looking up at the stars above and enjoying each other’s company.

7. Spa Day

Spa Day

Big Macintosh couldn’t really say why, but the next day found him in a much lighter mood. It might've been because of the cathartic night he, his sister, and Pinkie Pie had last night. It had felt good to get a few things off his shoulders. And when Pinkie had finally fallen asleep the two Apples carried her home to Sugarcube Corner. Well, he carried her home while Applejack just walked beside him telling him to be careful for the sake of both the colt and the pink filly on his back. It had felt good to have his sister actually trust him with a bit of work for the first time in a long while.

As he made his way downstairs for breakfast, his harness back where it belonged, his mind wandered to the conversation he and Applejack had that night. Truth be told he thought the idea of ‘switching jobs’ was merely a way to placate the underworked stallion. After all, what exactly was he supposed to do? He’d pick a bone with her if not for the fact that it actually worked. Honestly he really thought it would have taken more than just a fancy job title to trick him. But he had to admit that, even as he walked into the kitchen to fetch an apple from the basket on the kitchen table, he couldn’t help but feel…needed. As if he really did have a job to do.

He shrugged. Whether he was imagining his importance or not it was a great improvement to how he’d been feeling the past few days. He could at least be thankful for that. But as he polished his apple on his chest the question still gnawed at the back of his mind: what was he supposed to do? Well, Applejack had said to help her friends—their friends, Pinkie had said—whenever they might need a level-headed farmpony. So he supposed that if he was needed someone would get him. Until then it looked like he was just going to spend the day lying under the trees as usual. A hated activity, to be sure, but the promise of helping someone at sometime (vague as it may be) helped a bit.

“Hey big brother,” Applejack called as she entered the kitchen. She took the apple from his hoof and bit into it, claiming it for herself. He was about to say something but decided against it and just grabbed another apple. Secretly he enjoyed her sass. He couldn’t remember the last time she actually acted like his little sister instead of his caregiver. For the first time since his injury she wasn’t worrying constantly about him, and it was a load off his back.

“Just thought ya might wanna know that Rarity’s comin’ over ta pick up some apples in a few hours,” she finished the rest of her fruit and tossed the core into the wastebasket reserved for anything on its way to the compost heap.

“Why is she comin’ over when we’re just gonna deliver the apples tomorrow?” he asked.

“That’s what Ah said, but she insisted. Seemed pretty interested ‘bout whether you’d be here though,” she said with a slight smirk. Big Mac just ignored her teasing. “If ya need me Ah’ll be over weedin’ out the north field. Thanks for the apple, big brother.”

“You sure ya don’t need any help?” He knew it was a pointless question. After all, anyone could see Applejack’s response from a mile away.

“No way, Mac. You just focus on gettin’ better,” she said as she walked through the doorway.

He gave her an annoyed grunt as she walked out and threw his apple core into the trash.

“Hey big brother.” Macintosh’s ears perked up as he heard the voice of his baby sister. He turned his head to see Applebloom trying her hardest to grab an apple from the basket just out of her reach. Without a word, he brought the basket closer to her.

“Thanks,” she said as she grabbed an apple. She took a seat at the table and bit into her snack as she held it between her hooves. The sight made him smile.

“Got anythin’ planned today, sugarcube,” Big Macintosh asked.

Applebloom nodded her head. “You bet! Today the CMC are gonna try ta get our cutie marks in avi- abia-“

“Aviation?” Big Mac said with a quirked eyebrow. “That a fancy way of sayin' ya’ll are gonna try ta make Scootaloo fly?”

“Pretty much,” she said before taking another bite.

“Well, do ya need any help? Maybe an extra somepony ta play with?” The eldest Apple asked hopefully.

“Nah, that’s okay big brother. Like Applejack says, you just worry ‘bout gettin’ better. Besides, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle’ll be there.” she said with a smile though her big brother couldn’t share her enthusiasm. Applebloom held out her unfinished apple towards her brother, who took it within his mouth to finish it off.

“A’right then,” he said as he tossed yet another core into the trash. He stepped towards his sister and helped her off the chair before bringing his foreleg around her and bringing her in for a quick hug. “Y’all be careful now, ya hear?”

“Ah know, Ah know,” Applebloom said as she struggled against her brother. She finally freed herself and headed the way of Applejack before her. “See ya later, big brother.”

“Bye, baby sis” he said, even though she had already left the house. “Be safe.”

He took a few moments to gaze at the empty kitchen before heading outside to meet a calming breeze and the faint sound of rustling leaves.

He would have gone and thought about why Rarity would come to the farm or about his little sisters, but he’d done enough thinking to last him the rest of the day what with contemplating his new job. So he simply lied down under the shade of his usual apple tree and ignored the déjà vu. It didn’t take long for the warm air of very late spring and the gentle wind to lull him to a light sleep.

He didn’t know how long he was in that strange in-between of awake and asleep. All he knew was that one minute he was feeling incredibly warm and cozy, as if he was back in bed underneath a plush comforter, and then some indeterminate amount of time later he felt very, very cold. The cold slowly woke him up with a groan, but when he heard the loud snickering his eyes shot open.

He found Rainbow Dash sitting in front of his head with a hoof over her mouth, trying her hardest not to explode in a fit of laughter. He narrowed his eyes at her and wondered what in the heck she was laughing at. With grogginess still weighing him down, he struggled to sit up. Once he finally managed to, Rainbow Dash couldn’t contain herself any longer and fell into rambunctious laughter. Before he could ask what was so funny, a yawn forced itself out of him and he quickly raised a hoof to cover his mouth. That’s when he got the joke.

His foreleg was covered with a fluffy white substance that he could only guess was cloud. He looked up his leg and found that it wasn’t the only part of him covered: his chest, barrel, the rest of his legs and even…his flank? A small smile passed over his face as an opportunity to have a bit of fun presented itself. Quickly, he hid it behind his usual stoic expression.

Rainbow Dash didn’t seem to notice. “You,“ she managed to gasp between fits of giggles, “you look like a giant sheep!” She lost what was left of her composure and started rolling on the grass as she clutched her side.

Big Macintosh didn’t really mind her laughter, knowing that soon the tables would be turned. “Eeyup, ya got me good, Dash,” he said as he looked down his body. He tried to scrape the cloud off of him with a hoof, but it passed through the fluff as if nothing was there.

“Yeah, I sure did,” she said through her laughter. Finally she got back up and wiped the tears from her eyes. She settled down enough to face him with a straight face, though every now and then a giggle managed to escape. “Best part is that you can’t even take it off. Only pegasi can touch clouds.”

He nodded silently, as if it was a long forgotten fact freshly remembered. “Ya did a pretty thorough job of it, too,” he said as he rubbed a hoof on his stomach, as if trying vainly to get the cloud off of him. Giving up, he stood and turned to the side so his profile faced Rainbow Dash.

“That’s what you call commitment to the prank,” she said proudly.

“Eeyup, ya even got my backside,” he said with a slight shake of his fluff-covered cutie mark to emphasis his point. The joy he felt when he saw the realization dawn on the blushing face of the pegasus was indescribable.

“Uh,” she stammered, “yeah like I said, commitment.”

“Ya sure?” he asked with a small smile. “If Ah didn’t know any better Ah’d say this was all just an excuse ta touch my flank,” he teased, causing the pegasus’ face to deepen to a shade almost as red as his own. It wasn’t until the color faded that she finally managed to speak.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, forcing a dismissive laugh. “It was just a prank.”

He smiled. “Ah believe ya. But now that the prank’s over mind gettin’ this stuff offa me?”

Rainbow looked at him with a sly grin, and he knew exactly where her mind was going. “What’s in it for me?” she asked, and Mac was ready with a response.

“How ‘bout a mug of cider?”

Her eyes lit up, but she quickly brought her expression back to a poker face. “Keep talkin’.”

Big Macintosh hummed in thought for a moment. “Two mugs of cider, an’ Ah don’t use ya like a towel ta get this cloud off me.”

Rainbow’s cheeks flushed once again before she tried to hide them behind a hoof, playing it off as if she was seriously considering his proposition. “Deal. But,” she paused, her bravado failing her, “we can’t make eye contact while I take the cloud off.”

He nodded. “Deal.” The red stallion looked straight ahead as Rainbow Dash approached him and started her work. Her hooves gently glided across his back with long, full motions. He couldn’t feel whether the cloud was coming off or not, and so he risked a look behind him. Rainbow Dash’s hooves were indeed taking off the fluff, and after each sweep she shook her hooves and broke the cloud to its component parts of water and air. Soon her hooves were soaking wet and he could feel the water sink into his coat as she went on. It didn’t take long for her to remove the fluff from his neck, sides, and back. But when she reached farther back her hooves hesitated.

“Takin’ yer time back there, ain’t ya,” he teased.

“Shut up,” she said, though he could hear the fluster in her voice. Her hooves no longer paused and slid across his lower, lower back. After a few minutes the last of the cloud had been removed from his flank, stomach, barrel, and chest. Rainbow gave a relieved sigh as she shook her hooves free of the last bit of fluff. “There. Done. Now where’s that cider you promised? My throats dying after my flight from Cloudsdale.”

Big Macintosh smiled as he examined his body, glad that he was no longer fluffy and white. His gaze rose to the sky to check the sun’s position. An hour after noon.

“Follow me,” he said as he walked down the rows of trees, deeper into the orchard. All the while Rainbow Dash talked of her many exploits in Cloudsdale, having spent most of her time there fixing the de-colored rainbow pools and investigating what could possibly have broken them. Big Macintosh restrained himself from asking the obvious question of whether Rainbow Dash herself had broken the pools.

Soon the pair stopped at a rather older apple tree. Its roots dug into the ground though lifted above ground level, creating a small cavity just beneath the trunk. With a tiny smirk at the rainbow pegasus, Big Macintosh lowered his head into the hollow and recovered a large jug of cider from its hiding place. He gently placed it on the grass before going back to produce two mugs from the hole. He blew into them idly, sending a swirl of dust into the air.

“Sneaky,” Rainbow commented with a laugh. The red colt only smiled as he sat the mugs upright on the grass, undid the jug’s cap and filled the cups almost to overflowing. He offered her one of the mugs, and she took it greedily.

She took a hefty gulp. “That’s the stuff,” Rainbow said with a contented sigh. “So how do you still have some? Cider season was months ago and I thought you guys always sold out.”

He had to smile. “Me an’ Applejack pay ourselves a barrel of cider each fer our trouble durin’ the season. That is, if we made enough money ta cover the winter expenses. Otherwise, we sell those too. But it was a good season last year so…” he trailed off with a shrug before taking a sip from his mug.

Rainbow Dash nodded as her gaze fell on the little grotto beneath the tree. “So how many hiding places do you have around here?”

Big Macintosh hummed and rubbed his chin in thought. “Quite a few, Ah’d say. Had to find a lot more this year since Ah won AJ’s barrel in a bet.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought as he finished his cider.

“So, what, you put the cider in jugs and hide them around the farm?” Rainbow asked as she emptied her mug and poured herself another.

“Eeyup, plus Ah use a bit ta make Applejack.”

She paused, her mug midway to her mouth. She looked at the colt with a quirked eyebrow. “You…make Applejack?”

Big Mac instantly realized the source of her confusion. “Not my sister. What she’s named after.”

“Oh,” she said. “Wait, she’s named after something?”

“Eeyup.”

“Huh, didn’t know that,” Rainbow mumbled as she took another gulp of cider. “So what’s applejack?”

“It’s what ya get when ya distill cider,” he said as he placed his empty mug back within the hole beneath the tree.

“So it’s potent cider?” she asked, not bothering to hide her interest. She finished her own mug and tossed the empty cup back into its place, and soon after Big Macintosh placed the jar in the hiding place as well.

“Eeyup…sort of.”

“Can I try some?”

Big Macintosh took a moment to look at the pegasus, as if sizing her up. He hummed for a minute as he idly tapped his chin, milking the moment for all it was worth. “If it was anypony else, Ah’d say it’d be too strong for a mare. But seein’ how it’s you,” he paused for a moment as Rainbow Dash grinned at him. “Nnope.”

Her face fell before quickly coming back to life with a fire behind her eyes. “Hey! Don’t you know who you’re talking to? I’m the fastest pegasus in Ponyville, heck in all of Equestria, and I can handle a little-“

Big Mac’s low laughter cut her off. “Calm down, sugarcube, Ah’m just playin’.”

“Oh,” Rainbow said, chuckling sheepishly. “Good one.”

“C’mon, Ah got it hidden behind the barn,” he said as he started walking. Rainbow Dash nodded eagerly and followed him. All along the way she couldn’t stop asking him questions like where he made the drink and what it tasted like, but Big Mac just dismissed them all with a neutral grunt each time.

They circled around the barn until they were at its back where a grass field waited for them. Big Macintosh looked around for a bit before finally finding the square wooden plank on the ground that acted as a makeshift table. He lifted the plank to reveal a remarkably large hole beneath it. He reached down and grabbed the neck of a much smaller bottle of a much darker amber liquid in his teeth. Placing it aside, he reached back down and grabbed two squat glasses. He lowered the plank and placed all three on top of it.

“So let’s drink, already,” Rainbow Dash said, doing little to hide her excitement. Big Mac just shushed her gently as he undid the bottle’s cap.

The rustling of leaves filled the air as Mac poured a generous amount of the brown liquid in each glass, careful to not lose a drop to the wind. Meanwhile, Rainbow helped herself to a seat besides the plank with her back leaning against the barn wall. When he was done pouring the drink, she took her glass and cautiously sniffed its contents. Slowly she tipped it to her mouth and took a quick sip. Straightaway her eyes widened and she thrust the glass a forleg’s length away from her.

“Woah, that’s strong. Your telling me Applejack’s named after this stuff?”

“Eeyup. Call it a family favorite,” Mac said with a smile as he sat down on the other side of the plank with a muted, pained grunt.

“You okay?” Rainbow asked.

“Eeyup, just got a twinge in my back is all,” he said as he grabbed his own glass between his hooves. He took a sip and allowed the liquid to burn his mouth and throat on its way to his stomach. Beside him, Rainbow took another sip from her glass. In front of the two lay rows and rows of apple trees in full bloom. And the sight made him relax into his drink.

“Yeah, I know what that’s like." Rainbow Dash's voice interrupted his thoughts. "It sucks being injured. You should see how crazy I get when I’m grounded for longer than a few days. I can’t imagine not being able to fly for, what’s it been, a couple of months?”

Big Macintosh nodded as he gazed into his drink. “Eeyup.”

“How’re you holding up?” she asked before taking another sip.

“Better than yesterday, that’s for dang sure,” he said.

“Yeah, Pinkie told me you and Applejack got into a huge fight last night,” she said with a bit of a chuckle.

“Eeyup. We patched it up though. But Ah gotta admit, little sisters can be a might pain even if they do mean well.” Despite what he said, a small smile began to appear on Big Mac’s face.

Rainbow took another sip. “Yeah I bet. I mean, I don’t have any brothers or sisters but I can kinda imagine what its like.”

“Well sure but it’s the same no matter who worries about ya. Ah mean someone in yer family must…” he stopped talking when he saw the glassy look she was giving her glass.

“I…” she trailed off. He wanted to say something, but quickly decided against it. Instead, the two just drank in silence until finally, after several minutes, they picked up conversation once again.

“Got this soreness at the base of my wings. Been bugging me for a while.”

“Eeyup, Ah got a knot between my shoulders that won’t go away.”

“You ever get a crick in your neck when you wake up, like you slept wrong?”

“Eeyup, all the time. This harness don’t help none either.”

“I swear the way you two talk it’s like a couple of old ponies reminiscing of lost youth.”

The two drinking ponies looked up and around for the source of the new voice, but they saw nothing. It wasn’t until the white unicorn rounded the corner of the barn did they realize where the voice came from.

“How long were you there?” Rainbow said as she snapped to her hooves, spilling her drink as she got up.

“Since you two were talking about your poor, achy bodies,” Rarity said with a chuckle. “If I may be so bold, I’d recommend a trip to the spa. It does wonders, just look at me.” She flicked her curled mane and struck a dignified pose.

“Yeah, like I’d go to a spa. I wouldn’t be caught dead in there,” Rainbow Dash said with a roll of her eyes. She started walking away from the unicorn, motioning with her head for Big Macintosh to follow.

Rarity gave the blue pegasus a smile that made a timberwolf look like an ordinary puppy. “Well in that case, I’m afraid I have no choice but to bring up our bet.”

Rainbow froze mid-step and turned her head to look at the unicorn. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would. You owe me a trip to the spa,” Rarity said, the grin never leaving her. “Or do you want me to tell everypony in town how Rainbow Dash is afraid of a little pampering.”

“Alright, alright,” Rainbow said with a sigh as she turned around and walked towards Rarity. “Stupid violet not being purple,” she mumbled along the way.

Big Macintosh, meanwhile, just made sure to have his focus glued to his half-full glass of applejack, hoping that the two mares wouldn’t notice him. His red coat and larger-than-average size didn’t help much.

“You’re welcome to come along, Macintosh,” Rarity said.

“Thanks, Miss Rarity, but Ah’m just fine right here,” he said with a smile.

“Oh c’mon, Mac,” Rainbow said. “It might not be so bad with you there.”

Big Mac didn’t say anything, and just finished his drink with slow sips. Truth be told, a spa seemed like one of those things that he knew he had no business being in.

“You know,” Rarity said, “a trip to the spa might help you heal faster.”

His mind was made up right then and there. But still he acted hesitant, if only because he didn’t want Rarity to know that she had swayed him so much. Slowly, he rose up and faced them. “A’right, let’s go.”

“Wonderful,” Rarity said. “But leave your harness here, sweetie. You’re not going to need it.”

He nodded and as soon as the mares turned to walk towards town he quickly lifted the plank again. With one quick motion he placed the bottle, empty glasses, and his harness within the hole and moved the plank back in place.

-*-

Big Macintosh couldn’t see a thing as his body lay suspended within a recessed tub of very warm mud. The cucumber slices covering his eyes were a small compromise with Rarity that allowed him to go without a clay mask over his face. Sure it might have tightened his pores, but was there really any point when his coat covered them anyway?

In the tub next to his, Rainbow Dash had taken the opposite offer and wore the clay mask while omitting the cucumbers. Her reasoning being that she didn’t trust having her vision impaired while in the same tub with Rarity, the spa having only two for mud baths. She had wanted to share a tub with Mac, but Rarity stopped her with a quick comment on how it wasn’t ‘proper’.

While Big Macintosh certainly didn’t mind having a tub of his own, he didn’t quite understand Rarity’s concern. Sure, a stallion and a mare could get into plenty of trouble with their bodies immersed in an opaque muck. But honestly, a stallion and mare could get into that kind of trouble anywhere if they wanted to.

“So ponies actually pay to wallow in mud?” Rainbow asked.

“We are not wallowing in mud, we are relaxing in a mixture of volcanic ash, peat moss, and mineral-enriched natural spring water,” Rarity said, a slight hint of annoyance coloring her voice.

“Might as well grab my hose, soak a field, an’ charge ponies ten bits ta lay in it,” Big Mac said.

To his surprise Rarity actually chuckled. “And what would you call such a high-profile resort?”

He smiled. “Somethin’ obvious like ‘Big Mac’s Big Spa’, biggest mud bath around.”

“Well that would certainly get the crowd passed your doors, but what other amenities would Big Mac’s Big Spa offer?”

“Welp,” Big Mac said, taking his time to think of an answer. “Ah guess we’d offer the whole farmin’ experience. Ya get ta plow yer own field, deliver yer own apples, and heck even buck yer own apple tree.”

Rarity chuckled again. “So basically your customers would be employees paying you for the privilege of being employed. Quite a clever business model, but will it work?”

“Rarity, if ponies’ll pay ta wal-uh-relax in ash an’ water, they’ll pay ta work a farm,” he said with a small laugh of his own.

“You should be a business consultant,” the unicorn giggled.

Before Mac could ask what a business consultant did, he realized how quiet Rainbow Dash had been. Perhaps a bit too quiet. He lifted up his left hoof and removed one of the cucumber slices from his eyes just in time to see Rainbow Dash, her lower half covered in mud, standing on her hind hooves at the edge of his tub. She had her right foreleg raised above her head, a large clump of mud dripping from her hoof.

“Any last words?” she asked through her predatory grin.

“Eeyup.” Before she could do anything else, Big Mac flicked his still-submerged right hoof and sent a clump of mud straight into her face. Rainbow recoiled with a yelp and hastily rubbed her eyes as she fell on her three free legs.

“If yer gonna sling mud, sling mud. Don’t talk,” Big Mac said with a smirk.

“Why you…” she growled as she removed the last of the mud from her eyes. She crouched down and sprung into an attack. Big Mac was caught off guard as the pegasus collided with his chest, knocking the air out of his lungs as she sent them both whirling into the mud.

“Now wait you two,” Rarity called to them as she removed the cucumbers from her eyes, but she was ignored.

They wrestled with each other, each one trying to hold the other’s head below the surface. Though Big Mac couldn’t help but go easy on her and spent the most time immersed. The viscous sludge made their movements slow and exhaustive, wrestling blind didn’t help matters much either.

“Stop it this instant!” Rarity cried, and this time they listened. Rainbow Dash had him in an ineffective headlock as both raised their heads out of the muck. Big Mac’s breathing was labored as he went to the edge of the tub and stretched out his forelegs to the floor, allowing him to hang from the side. Rainbow slid off of him and joined him at the tub’s edge, just as tired as he was.

“Honestly Big Macintosh, I expected a bit more civility from you. As for you Rainbow Dash well…”

Mac and Dash looked at each other, and as emerald green met rosy pink (the only parts of their bodies not covered in mud) they knew they were thinking the same thing. Slowly, they each took a foreleg and submerged it within the murky depths and raised them up moments later.

Rarity noticed their movements. “Don’t even think about-“ She was interrupted by the barrage of mud hitting her. She swiftly lifted her forelegs to protect her face, but it proved futile. The attack didn’t let up for a second until finally she couldn’t take anymore. “Oh that is it!” she exclaimed. Her horn glowed blue as did the mud in her tub. In one great wave the entire contents of her bath flew through the air and splashed onto the two slack-jawed ponies.

The white unicorn laughed triumphantly in her empty tub. “Ha! I win!” But her victory gloat was cut short when neither Rainbow Dash nor Big Macintosh rose to the surface.

“Rainbow? Macintosh?” she called as she removed herself from the recessed tub. She received no answer and so approached closer. “Oh no. Be okay, please be okay,” she pleaded as she approached the muddied edge of their bath. Two sets of forelegs instantly rose up and grabbed her. With a surprised scream, she was tossed into the muddy depths.

“Gotcha!” Rainbow Dash said through her laughter as Rarity’s head emerged above mud-level. Even with her face completely covered in muck, it wasn’t hard to see the anger on her face. “That was classic,” Rainbow said with a grin.

“Eeyup,” came Big Mac’s agreement as he tried his hardest not to burst into chuckles himself. Though it didn’t matter as Rarity still stared daggers into both of them, quickly silencing their laughter.

“Let’s get out, shall we?” the unicorn said through gritted teeth. The other two just nodded, not daring to say anything else as they lifted themselves from the thick mud. Rarity tried to get out, but couldn’t muster the strength to free herself. She tried again and again but each time slipped off the edge and landed backwards in.

“Do ya need any help?” Big Macintosh asked as he came up to the edge of the tub.

“No no,” Rarity said quickly as she lifted a foreleg to halt his approach. “I’m just fine.”

He ignored her and lowered his head just past her own, his neck just touching her head. “Would it help if Ah said Ah’m sorry?” he asked softly.

Rarity didn’t do anything at first. “A little,” she finally said. She wrapped her forelegs around his neck, taking a few moments to get a good grip through the slippery mud covering both their bodies. Without a word, Big Mac lifted his head and lifted her out of the mud bath and onto solid ground.

“Thank you,” she said quietly as she let go of him. “Now then, let’s go to the showers and prepare for our mineral bath.” As the unicorn led the way, the earth pony and the pegasus looked at each other and simultaneously rolled their eyes.

Thankfully, the spa had enough shower stalls for the three of them to each have their own. Big Macintosh took his time, closing his eyes as he allowed the hot water to wash away the mud as he let his mind run blank. His peace, however, was soon interrupted by a sudden weight on his back followed by a lack of water hitting him. He opened his eyes and craned his neck to find Rainbow Dash standing on him, her head catching the falling water.

She looked down and gave him a grin while ignoring his glare. “All that mudslinging was pretty awesome wasn’t it,” she said.

“Eeyup,” he answered, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

“We should totally do it again, but bigger this time. I’m thinking we let it rain on that dirt field on your farm, let it get nice and wet and muddy. Then get like thirty ponies and just have an all out royale,” she said, her voice getting more excited as she went on.

He nodded, but before he could say anything there came a call from outside the stall.

“Macintosh sweetie, are you done yet? Aloe and Lotus have our bath ready, but I can’t find Rainbow Dash anywhere,” Rarity said.

“I’m in here,” Rainbow Dash called out.

“What! Why?” Rarity exclaimed.

Big Macintosh turned off the water with a twist of the handle before moving towards the exit. His sudden movement caused the pegasus on his back to lie down on him to keep her balance.

“I wanted to talk to Mac,” Rainbow said casually as the pair exited the stall.

The unicorn just stood there with her mouth agape. She soon recovered enough to speak. “Rainbow Dash, it’s very inappropriate for a grown mare and stallion to share a single shower,” her voice was a harsh whisper, as if she was afraid she might be overheard.

“Why?” came Rainbow’s simple response.

Rarity raised a hoof to her forehead. With a roll of her eyes she gave up trying to explain. “Let’s just…head to the bath,” she said, utterly exasperated.

"Wait, so it's okay to share a bath but not a shower?" Rainbow Dash asked, but the white mare just ignored her.

There was only one tub this time, but what a tub it was. Its size was so great that it actually had a slanted bottom to allow for different depths. Big Mac submerged himself up to his chin in the deep end while Dash and Rarity shared the shallower end. He hated to admit it, but his body practically melted within the hot water. And judging by Rainbow’s contented sigh and goofy grin, the salt water had the same effect on her.

“This is not salt water, this is mineral water,” Rarity corrected him when he called it that out loud.

He lazily submerged his snout in the water and idly blew a few bubbles, all the while giving Rarity his usual half-lidded stare.

She had no trouble interpreting his gaze. “Yes, there is a difference.”

Macintosh lowered his eyelids even more.

Rarity sighed. “I suppose Big Mac’s Big Spa now offers mineral baths?”

He raised his head above the water to answer her. “Eeyup.”

“Wouldn’t it be kinda hard to run a spa and an apple farm, though?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“Not really,” Big Mac said, his tongue loosening up as it talked of a subject his mind knew so well. “Heck, the Apple family does more than jus’ farm. We got pies, jams, cider, and things like that. Then we make a few extra bits renting out land and hostin’ events. Someponies even get married at the apple orchard.”

“Really?” Rarity said. “Anypony I know?”

He just shrugged. “Maybe. We get a few ponies from Canterlot. They’re easy enough to spot. Always wearin’ fancy clothes when they come ta reserve the orchard and always usin’ the same words for describin’ the place.”

There was a minute of silence before Rarity asked the obvious. “What words?”

“Ya know. Words like ‘quaint’, ‘rustic’, ‘old world charm’.” He said each one with a butchered Manehattan accent nowhere near as good as his sister’s.

“Tell me about it,” Rainbow chimed in. “Most of those rich ponies have their heads up their-“

“Now Rainbow,” Rarity interrupted, “that’s just a minority. There are several rich ponies who are genuinely nice.”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac added, remembering his own experience in Canterlot. “Some might be a bit snobby, but most are a’right.”

“Whatever,” Rainbow Dash said. “All I know is that I’d rather be here than over there.”

“Eeyup.”

The three remained silent after that, and Big Macintosh closed his eyes to better enjoy the feeling of weightlessness within the hot mineral water. The steam from the bath caused a few beads of sweat to collect on his forehead but he didn't mind. It wasn’t long before the silence was broken by a small splash, and soon after Mac felt water hit his face. He opened his eyes to see Rainbow Dash with a grin. She splashed him again with a slap of her hoof on the water.

“Now don’t you two start,” Rarity warned them.

“Wouldn’t think of it,” Dash said innocently.

“Nnope.”

Again the three were silent. For about two minutes. It was the exact amount of time for Mac and Dash to make eye contact. Then, all at once, they declared war and splashed each other close to senseless. Rarity, to her credit, just watched from the sidelines with a sigh and a calm smile. It didn’t take long for the two to tire out, though it was really more because of the heat coming from the water than them actually running out of energy. It became so hot, in fact, that they hurried out of the tub and onto the cool tile floor.

“I suppose you’re ready for a massage?” Rarity said. With her tone she might as well have said ‘I told you so’.

“Yeah,” Dash said, barely able to keep her eyelids open.

“Eeyup,” Big Mac managed to say between weary breaths.

“Perfect,” Rarity said as she removed herself from the tub. She levitated a few towels towards them, and the three began to dry themselves off. Once properly dried, Big Macintosh and Rainbow Dash followed Rarity to yet another room within the spa.

-*-

“So, do you want to start more trouble now?” Rarity asked slyly as she lied on a plush pillow getting her horn filed. She had on a robe embroidered with a fancily written 'R'. While nearby Macintosh and Rainbow were lying face down as they received their massages.

“Quiet, I’m trying to relax,” Dash managed to say as the pink-coated masseuse worked her magic on her client’s back.

“What about you, Macintosh?”

The workpony could only grunt as Lotus’ hooves managed to work themselves deep into his musculature and rub away aches he didn’t even know he had. He tried to keep himself awake, but every so often he would close his eyes to blink only to open them minutes later. Rainbow Dash had little more luck if her snores were to be believed, interrupted every so often by a sudden burst of consciousness.

“I bet that twinge in your back is gone, Macintosh. I told you a spa would help,” Rarity said smugly.

Big Mac let out a yawn. “An’ ya also said ya only listened to us when we started talkin’ about the aches in our bodies.”

The unicorn quirked an eyebrow, “I did.”

“Ah only mentioned the twinge in my back when Ah sat down. Long time before ya said you started listening,” Big Mac said. He’d feel a bit more annoyed if he weren’t so damn relaxed.

“Hey that’s right!” Rainbow exclaimed with a quick raise of her head. But it slowly lowered again as Aloe started rubbing the base of her wings. “So not…cool,” she managed to say before her head fell to lie in her forelegs once again. “Did you hear the part about…” she trailed off, though Big Mac didn’t know if it was from the massage or the subject the unicorn might have overheard.

“I’m sorry,” Rarity said. “I just thought you would be uncomfortable if I said I had listened since the beginning of your conversation.”

“Then why didn’t ya just come out before we even started talkin’?” Big Mac asked.

“Yeah,” Rainbow added weakly.

“Well I wanted to hear what you two were going to say,” Rarity said, her voice falling as she realized how weak of an excuse it really was.

“So you could gossip about it, right?” Rainbow accused.

“Of course not! You know full well I would never gossip about my friends,” the unicorn said quickly.

“Uh-huh,” Rainbow said, unconvinced.

Rarity just rolled her eyes and that was the end of it. The effort to continue an argument while being rubbed and pampered just proved too great. Soon, Rainbow Dash was snoring up a storm and Big Mac wasn’t faring any better as the pink-maned mare’s hooves traveled down his back.

“Goin’ a little low there Lotus,” he said. The masseuse apologized through her thick accent and instantly focused her kneading on his shoulders. Big Macintosh tried to calm the blush forming on his cheeks, but the small giggle from Rarity wasn’t helping. Still, he had to admit she was right when it came to the spa. He felt like a million bits.

It all came to end much too soon, and Big Macintosh’s legs wobbled beneath him as he stood. Rarity came up next to him with a smug smile. As for Rainbow Dash, she was out cold on the table. Aloe started to shake her awake when Big Mac quickly stopped her.

“Ah’ll get ‘er,” he said as he lowered himself so that his back was level to the massage table. “Rarity, can ya-“

“Of course,” she said as she walked up to him. Carefully she took hold of Rainbow’s legs and slid her onto the red colt’s back. All the while Rainbow Dash remained in blissful sleep, her legs hanging off his sides and her head resting between his shoulders.

With a final goodbye and thank you to the spa ponies Rarity, Macintosh and a sleeping Rainbow Dash made their leave. Outside the sun was beginning its descent and the sky glowed with a deep orange. The warm wind still blew through the town, gently picking up stray leaves and flowers. The town wasn’t empty, but it was a long ways away from the bustling hub that was the norm during the day.

“Ya know, Rarity, ya got a way of makin’ me like things Ah think Ah wouldn’t,” Big Macintosh said as he looked up at the setting sun.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Rarity said with a chuckle. “Are you going to take Rainbow Dash home?”

“Eeyup. Ah s’ppose you’ll be headin’ home yerself.”

“Actually I was hoping to go with you and enjoy the pleasant company and conversation,” Rarity said sweetly, a tone of voice Big Mac tried his best to ignore.

“You sure? Ain’t yer place a lot closer?” he asked.

“I’m sure,” she said as she started walking towards Rainbow’s house. Big Mac would have shrugged if there wasn’t a mare on his back, so instead he just walked beside the white unicorn. Having Rainbow on his back brought old memories of a younger Applejack, exhausted from her first applebucking season, back to mind. It made him smile.

“I have to say, I’ve never seen you so,” she paused for a moment as if to find the right word, “animated before.” She looked around as if looking for any potential eavesdroppers. “You and Rainbow Dash aren’t together, are you?” she asked in a whisper.

The stallion’s cheeks burned red hot. “Nnope, of course not,” he said quickly.

Rarity gave him a not-so-innocent smile. “Come now, Macintosh, you can tell me. It’s the only explanation for why you’ve been acting like a young colt around her, not to mention sharing a shower stall. You two weren’t…you know.”

Big Mac shook his head vigorously. “That ain’t it at all, Rarity. Ya got it all wrong.”

“Then enlighten me,” she said.

Big Macintosh rolled his eyes. He was about to speak when he felt the pegasus on his back shuffle and move on top of him. Turning his head, he tried to check on her but only saw her rainbow-colored mane. “She still asleep?” he asked Rarity in a whisper.

Rarity looked for several seconds before turning to Big Mac. “She is.”

He nodded. “Miss Rarity, Ah’m gonna tell ya somethin’ really personal. Ah’d appreciate it if it stayed between us.”

Rarity’s eyes brightened for a moment. “You have my word that what you say will not leave our little group.”

She sounded sincere, and so Big Mac spoke. “Dash sorta reminds me of Applejack when she was younger. A lot less sense an’ a lot more ego.” He ignored Rarity’s giggle and continued. “Back when me an’ AJ were younger, we used ta wrestle around like me and Dash did today. And as we got older, well, we played less an’ less an’ worked more an’ more. Ah ain’t complainin’, we all gotta grow up sometime. But Ah gotta admit, Ah miss those days.” He chuckled as the memories came rushing back. “Then Applebloom was born, and Ah was so dang excited ta get another sister ta play with and ta teach and ta look after. And Ah did for a while, but soon she found friends her own age and she didn’t need me anymore. But again, Ah ain’t complainin’, Ah’m glad she’s found some good friends for her to have some fun away from the farm.”

Big Macintosh fell to silence with a small smile while Rarity allowed him a bit of peace. After a few minutes he spoke again. “Ya know, Applejack’s always told me how the more time she spends with Dash the more it feels like she’s her sister. An’ now, the more time Ah spend with her the more Ah can’t help but feel the same. And it feels like those days ain’t lost after all.”

Rarity smiled as she walked a bit closer to his side. “That’s a very sweet sentiment. But, why didn’t you tell her that behind the barn when you brought up her family.”

He sighed. “Ah didn’t want her ta think Ah was only saying it ‘cause Ah felt sorry for her. Besides Ah think, deep down, she already knows.”

They stopped as Rainbow Dash’s floating house came into view above them. With a gentle nudge Rarity managed to wake up Rainbow, who got up without so much as an annoyed grunt. The pegasus yawned as she stood in front of the other two to say her goodbyes.

“G’night Rarity.”

“Goodnight Rainbow Dash.”

Big Mac could have sworn that the rainbow mare’s cheeks were tinged with red as she approached him. But before he could fathom why, Rainbow stood up and wrapped her forelegs around his neck. The tight hug only lasted a second but it was enough to leave Macintosh stunned, while Rainbow’s cheeks turned a deeper crimson.

“G’night Mac,” she said with a small smile, unable to look him in the eyes.

“ ’night Dash,” he said back. Before things could get any more awkward, the pegasus flew off to her house and left Rarity and Mac alone.

“You don’t think she…” Big Mac started, but as he looked at Rarity and saw her staring intently at her hooves he instantly knew. “She was awake, wasn’t she.”

“I’m sorry Macintosh, but…well you have to admit maybe it was good for her to hear it from you. Especially since you didn’t know she was listening, so she could be sure you weren’t just saying it for her benefit.”

All he could do was shake his head as he started walking back towards Ponyville. “That’s all well an’ good an’ psychological, Rarity, but Ah…” his voice lost force and he went silent as his mind failed to think of the right words to say what he wanted to say.

Rarity caught up beside him and pressed her side against his. “I know. You opened yourself up and Rainbow Dash and I took advantage of it. And for that I’m sorry. Forgive me?” she said with a flutter of her eyelids. Big Mac tried to direct his gaze anywhere but her eyes. Truth be told he would have forgiven her even without the eyelash trick she was so inclined to use on the soft-hearted stallion.

“Eeyup,” he mumbled. Rarity smiled and nuzzled his neck in thanks, while Big Macintosh just tried to ignore his burning cheeks.

“Now that the air is all cleared up, can I ask you a favor,” Rarity said.

“What’s that?” he asked, bracing himself for whatever she might ask of him.

“Well you see there’s an event that I’ve been invited to in Canterlot and-“

“Nnope,” Big Macintosh said, not even letting Rarity finish.

“Hold on, it’s not like last time. This event is an outdoor picnic, something more for families and young couples,” Rarity said as she sped up to block his way forward.

“Then why do ya wanna go?” he asked her.

“Well to be honest, your suit really caused a stir at the museum and I thought the picnic would be the perfect place to show off more of my designs,” she said with a smile.

“Oh,” he said. “For a minute Ah thought ya wanted me there for my company. C’mon Miss Rarity, there must be hundreds of stallions out there beggin’ for a chance ta take ya out. An’ Ah’m sure ya can show off yer suits on any one of ‘em.”

“You know full well that’s not why I asked you. While it may be true that there are quite a few stallions interested in me,” she said with a flick of her curled mane, “the fact remains that I want to go with you. Simple as that.” The farmpony just responded with a roll of his eyes, prodding Rarity to speak further. “It’s not for a few weeks so we’ll have plenty of time to prepare.” Still the red stallion remained unresponsive. “Please,” she implored, batting his eyelashes at him.

Big Macintosh shut his eyes and turned his head away, not daring to look at her. Rarity, however, would not quit that easily. He felt a sudden weight on his shoulder and felt his head being turned. Slowly, his eyes opened to find Rarity leaning against him while balanced on her hind legs. Her face was so intimately close that their noses touched and her sapphire eyes commanded most of his vision as they gazed, heavy-lidded, into his own.

“Please,” she whispered. And he could feel her soft breath caress his quickly heating face. It took a few moments for his mind to calm down enough to form any sort of coherent words.

“A'right,” he whispered. “Now holster those royal blues before ya make my heart give out.”

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” she said playfully before giving him a small peck on the cheek. She got off of him and stood beside him, and together the two continued on their way to Rarity’s boutique.

"Ah hate it when ya do that,” Big Macintosh said.

“Really? Because I rather enjoy it.”

He thought for a moment. “How much would ya enjoy it if it were done to you?”

She laughed. “No offense, Macintosh, but I hardly see you as the type to be flirtatious.”

He smiled. “Probably not. So Ah guess ya only stopped by the farm ta ask me that?"

"Guilty as charged," she said.

The two quietly walked the rest of the way to Rarity’s boutique. With a final goodbye and a swish of her tail that Big Macintosh knew was no accident, she went inside leaving the farmpony alone to walk back to his own home.

The sun had descended below the horizon a few moments ago, and all that was left was the soft glow on the horizon. He turned to the opposite part of the sky to see the first remnants of starlight appear as the moon rose above the land. There was something mystical about this time of day and night. The time when the sky was divided between the two.

As Big Macintosh headed for Sweet Apple Acres he couldn’t help but feel a bit happy at a job well done. Even if, perhaps, Applejack would have done things a bit differently.

8. The Squall

The Squall

The familiar grating sound of rusted metal digging into the sun-dried soil resounded throughout Sweet Apple Acres, much to Big Macintosh’s chagrin. If only because he wasn’t the one making it. That one simple sound created a great rolled up ball of anger, guilt, embarrassment, and uselessness that weighed down his chest and made it impossible to squeeze out what little enjoyment he usually could from lounging beneath the shade of the orchard. Worse yet that he felt so bad so early in the day. So instead of lying around in the dawn’s early light, he paced back and forth beside the field that Applejack, wearing his harness nonetheless, was plowing. The middle Apple sibling, meanwhile, did her best to ignore him. Though her best didn’t last for long as she stopped her work.

“Ain’t ya got somethin’ else ya need ta do?” she asked with a glare towards her older brother.

“Nnope,” came his simple answer. Applejack rolled her eyes as she struggled to pull the plow forward once again.

“Don’t pull too hard or else ya might wrench it loose,” Big Mac said.

“Ah know,” she said, not bothering to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

“Keep the harness on yer shoulders. Yer puttin’ too much strain on yer neck.”

“Big Macintosh!” she exclaimed, glaring at her brother. “Ah can do this, now git. See if Granny Smith needs yer help bakin’ or something.”

Well, it sure wasn’t a bad idea. But before he got up, he looked at the rusty blade of the plow and how much Applejack struggled to pull it.

“There’s a new blade in the barn in the far back right stall. Should be easier for ya to pull,” he said as he took his first hesitant steps towards the farmhouse.

The familiar smell of pies, turnovers, and muffins filled the house, all coming from the kitchen where Granny Smith busily baked the day’s pastries for selling and delivering. Big Macintosh swore he never saw Granny Smith move faster than when she was in the kitchen baking up a hurricane of treats. A great feat considering the heat coming from the oven, raising the temperature of the whole kitchen several degrees.

“Ya need any help, Granny?” Macintosh called amongst the multitude of clanks and rings from colliding baking pans. The older mare only gave him a sideways glance as she started mixing batter.

“Don’t ya worry ‘bout me, Ah got the fort held down over here. Why don’t ya see if yer sisters need any help,” she said as she poured the batter into a bundt pan. Big Macintosh hung his head and nodded as he left the kitchen. Maybe Applebloom needed his help. If he could only find the little filly.

He found her in the first place he looked: her room. The youngest Apple was busy gluing pages of blank parchment together, though by the looks of things she wasn’t having any luck. She had accidentally glued some pages to her coat, and was currently struggling with a few stubborn papers stuck to her hooves. She looked more like giant ball of crumpled up parchment than a pony.

He chuckled softly as he came up to her. “Need any help, sugarcube?” he asked. Applebloom looked at him, a sheet of paper stuck to her mouth, and gave him the old puppy dog look. That was answer enough for him and started peeling away the sticky paper. Thankfully, the glue was still wet and peeled off easily. Once the offending papers had all been removed and thrown away, Big Macintosh took another look at his youngest sister.

“Thanks, big brother,” Applebloom said, finally able to remove the paper from her mouth. She smacked her lips together and grimaced at the foul taste of paste.

“No problem,” he said. “Let me draw ya a bath. Best ta get clean before that glue dries.” He made his way to the bathroom, but before he could get through the doorway Applebloom zipped past him and stopped in front of her older brother.

“Ah can do it,” Applebloom insisted, “Ah’m not a little filly anymore.”

Big Macintosh smiled. “A’right, sugarcube. But this better not be some trick ta get out of a bath.”

“It isn’t,” Applebloom said as she stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Big Macintosh stayed by the bathroom door until he heard the sound of running water. Satisfied, he walked away and down the stairs. Now all he needed to do was find something to do. But until then, he could check up on how Applejack was doing with the plowing.

But as he stepped outside he found a familiar pink pony sitting on the porch with a basket balancing precariously on her head. Once she saw him her face brightened and her grin grew wider.

“Howdy Pinkie,” he said as he walked off the porch.

“Hey Macky, could you help me with something?” she asked as she got up to bounce alongside him. The question stopped him in his tracks and made his ears perk up.

“Anythin’” he said with a sigh of relief. “Whaddya need? Somethin’ pulled? Somethin’ carried? Somethin’ built? Somethin’ fixed?”

She giggled. “Nothing like that,” she said as she bounced the basket off her head and onto the ground. He gazed at it, realizing that her work probably wasn’t as physically demanding as he would have liked.

-*-

Pinkie Pie felt light as a feather as she sat atop the red stallion’s back, an apple-filled wicker basket resting next to her on his flank. As Big Macintosh walked towards Ponyville, he could only see it as a sign of his quickly coming recovery. Indeed, his body felt almost as if it was never broken in the first place. He liked to attribute his quick-healing physique to his sheer strength of will. Though, and he would never admit this to anyone else but himself, the trip to the spa yesterday might have maybe played a tiny role as well…probably. But the whole ‘sheer will’ explanation felt more appropriate for the Apple stallion.

“Rarity?” Pinkie Pie asked.

“Frozen yogurt with blueberry topping,” Big Macintosh answered.

The bubbly pink pony had caught him on the farm looking for a second palette to try some of her newest recipes. For the farmpony, it had been a mixed experienced. The Red-Hot Chili Cake, as Pinkie called it, had left a none-too-pleasant burn on his tongue while the orange and cinnamon cupcake had been surprisingly pleasant.

“Fluttershy?”

“Strawberry-banana smoothie.”

When exactly she had decided to climb atop of him, Big Mac didn’t really know. All he knew was that he had offered the mare an escort home and suddenly she went from walking beside him to being carried by him. Now that he thought about it, he really didn’t know how they had started this little game of theirs either. He didn’t mind either development. The extra weight made him feel like he was doing some work and conversations with Pinkie Pie almost always proved pleasant, if not a welcomed distraction.

And he never had needed a distraction more than today.

“Rainbow Dash?”

“Sea salt ice cream.”

“Ooo, you’re focusing on her coat. I always thought about her mane though, you know? Kind of like a jawbreaker when you cut it in half.”

Big Mac nodded as he thought about it for a second. “Ah like that one better. ‘Jawbreaker’ kinda suits her.”

Pinkie Pie giggled before tapping on her chin as she thought of the next pony. “What about me?”

“Oh that’s easy. Whatever ya get when ya mix cotton candy and marshmallows.”

Pinkie giggled again. “That’s a great idea! We could totally throw some marshmallows in a cotton candy machine and see what happens.”

He chuckled at the idea as the pair finally arrived at Sugarcube Corner. Pinkie Pie bounced off of him with her basket full of apples clutched in her teeth. She placed it on the ground to speak. “Thanks for trying out my treats, Macky,” she said with a huge grin.

“Anytime Pinkie,” he said as he watched her head inside with a final goodbye. He watched her go with a warm smile before turning back the way he came, allowing himself to get lost within his own head.

A gnawing thought had itched at the back of his mind all day, and it wasn’t until Pinkie Pie thanked him that he could finally associate words to the thought: he’d rather be working on the farm than being with Applejack’s friends. Not that he hated spending time with them, on the contrary he rather enjoyed it, but he still felt the emptiness that came with being unable to fulfill his responsibilities. Though he supposed that feeling would be ever-present so long as he was injured. Still, if he was doing something that held actual importance rather than having fun all the time perhaps he would feel better.

A sudden and light collision to his chest jarred the workpony out of his thoughts. Big Mac heard a small ‘umph’ as who he bumped into was knocked off her hooves. “Beg pardon, Miss Sparkle,” he said as he placed his muzzle beneath her and propped her back up on her hooves.

“That’s okay,” Twilight said while she straightened her saddlebag so stuffed with books that Big Macintosh could actually see the seams begin to loosen and separate. Not to mention the mare’s knees buckling beneath her as they struggled against the weight. No wonder he was able to knock her over with a simple bump.

“Need any help?” he asked.

“What about your injuries?” she said. Big Mac’s only answer was to grab her saddle bag strap and sling the pack on his back. The weight was hardly noticeable. He gave Twilight a reassuring smile, one that she returned, as the two took pace to a leisurely walk. It didn’t take long for Macintosh to realize that they were walking away from the library.

“So where we headed so early in the mornin’?” he asked.

“To Fluttershy’s. She asked me to deliver these books to her. Kind of strange, though. She could have just stopped by the library,” Twilight said.

Now that Big Mac thought about it, he had rarely seen Fluttershy since their venture within the Everfree Forest. Though it wasn’t as if they were close friends, so he didn’t think much of it.

“Haven’t seen much of her,” he said.

“None of us have,” Twilight said. “But it happens sometimes, usually when she’s taking care of a sick animal. She’ll focus on nothing except making them feel better. I think her record is two months when she took in a python with a stomachache.” She smiled before turning to the stallion. “Say, do you still think that there’s no need for you to be smart?” she suddenly asked.

“Eeyup,” he said, a bit annoyed that they were reopening that can of worms. “All Ah need is common sense an’ a knack for numbers, an’ bein’ literate helps too of course. Other than that Ah really don’t need ta be all intellectual.”

“Big word,” Twilight said with a smirk, earning her a small bump from the larger pony. Though it did nothing to contain her smile even as she shuffled to keep her balance. “Alright, but how about this: everything you use on the farm, from your tools to the various techniques for planting and harvesting, were created by a smart pony.” Her smile turned wide and triumphant as Big Macintosh rubbed his chin in thought.

“Ah think we’re goin’ on different kinds of smart, Miss Sparkle,” he finally said. “Yeah, a smart pony did think up all those things, but that’s because they tried it one way and thought of a better way. Ah’m talkin’ more about the kinda smart that does nothin’ but stay in a library readin’ books written by other ponies who did nothin’ but stay in a library readin’ books. And then takin’ those thoughts in those books and takin’ them as their own so they can write their own books that’ll then be read years later by even more ponies that do nothin’ but-”

“So ponies like me,” Twilight dryly interrupted his ranting.

“ ‘course not,” he said quickly. “Ya help yer friends, my sister- heck most of Ponyville. Ya actually do things ta help ponies.”

“But Big Macintosh, just because they, and I’m assuming that we’re talking about philosopher ponies and maybe highly theoretical scientists, mathematicians, and magiologists, don’t directly help ponies doesn’t mean their works aren’t beneficial. In fact, they might help more ponies than a single pony could otherwise.”

“Ah believe it, Miss Sparkle. But there ain’t no reason they can’t do both.”

Before Twilight could say her undoubtedly intelligent counterargument, Big Macintosh stopped in front of the door of Fluttershy’s cottage. “Rain check?” Twilight asked as she knocked on the entrance.

“Eeyup,” Big Mac said.

The two waited for an answer, but none came. Big Macintosh couldn’t help but notice the deafening silence all around them. Wasn’t Fluttershy known for caring for animals? He would have thought that the home of such a pegasus would be filled with the calls and trills of all sorts of creatures flitting about. But there was nothing in sight or earshot. If it weren’t for the idyllic setting brightened by the morning sun and the quiet babble of the nearby stream, the cottage would rival any tepid midnight walk through an abandoned mansion in eeriness.

Twilight knocked again. “Fluttershy? It’s me, and Macintosh is here too. We brought the books you wanted,” she said. Still nothing was heard for a few moments until finally the door opened just wide enough for a pony to stick a leg through. Twilight breathed a sigh of relief and headed for the door. “There you are, for a minute I thought-“

“Don’t come in,” Fluttershy’s voice interrupted, and then more softly, “Please.”

Twilight stopped her advance. “Why not? Is there something wrong?”

“No nothing’s wrong,” Fluttershy quickly said. “It’s just that, well, uh, it’s really messy in here. So, if I could just get those books, please.” A small yellow hoof poked through the doorway, held out expectantly. Big Macintosh took the hint and removed the saddlebag and placed its strap on the hoof. It sunk as the weight of the bag came full force upon it. Slowly, Fluttershy managed to inch it within her cottage. A few seconds later, the hoof brought out the empty pack and closed the door behind it.

Twilight stood stunned before coming up to the door and knocking on it once again. “Fluttershy, I don’t mind a mess. You’ve seen the library when I do research. In fact, I’ll be happy to help you clean up.”

“No!” The door muffled most of her shout. “I mean, that’s okay really. Please, I just need some time…alone.”

“Is there something wrong?” Twilight asked. “If there is, we can help.”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” Fluttershy said through the door.

But it wasn’t enough of an answer for Twilight. “If you’re fine then let us in.” There was no reply.

“Twilight,” Big Mac spoke up, “if she wants to be alone then there ain’t much ya can do about it. Maybe ya can talk to ‘er after a bit of time has passed,” he said before grabbing the empty saddlebag and draping it across the mare’s back.

“I guess. But something’s not right, I just know it. Fluttershy may be shy but it’s not like her to just push her friends away like that unless she’s having trouble with something. Maybe it has to do with that bird? Maybe it’s getting worse? But if that was the case then why not ask for our help?”

“Whatever the reason, it ain’t our place to intrude,” Big Mac said as he turned to walk away from the cottage. Twilight walked alongside him, but wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

“But we’re her friends. It doesn’t seem right to do nothing when Fluttershy might need us, even if she doesn’t want us to help her.”

Big Mac turned to Twilight and saw the worry in her eyes. With a roll of his own, he turned back towards the cottage. “Ya really wanna get in there?” he asked her, and Twilight nodded earnestly as they came back to the cottage.

Big Macintosh thought for a moment, and, with an idea in place, approached the door and leaned the flat of his head on the cool wood. Closing his eyes, he thought of the words to say. Being a big brother and growing up in a house full of fillies had taught him a lot, and so he knew he only had one chance to do this right.

“Miss Shy? It’s Macintosh. Twilight’s real worried about ya, and she thinks there might be something you ain’t telling us. But Ah ain’t gonna tell ya ta come out here so we can talk an’ Ah ain’t gonna tell ya ta let us in so we can help ya. If you don’t want us then that’s fine, it’s yer business and we ain’t got no right ta intrude.”

“Macintosh what are you-“ Twilight was cut off by a raised hoof.

He continued with a slow, quiet voice. “But Ah want ta let ya know that we’re here for ya if ya ever need us. Ah just thought that…well…that maybe, since Ah’ve been feelin’ pretty useless ‘cause of my injuries, that helping you could’ve given me some dang use, ya know? Ah mean, Ah can’t even do what Ah’m good at ta help my family and the farm. So Ah’ll just be on my way. Ah’m sorry Ah couldn’t help ya. Feels like Ah can’t help anypony these days…”

His piece spoken, he turned around and walked away as he nodded his head towards Twilight as a silent gesture for her to follow him. She did, reluctantly.

“Whatever ya do, don’t look back,” Macintosh whispered as the pair made their way over the small bridge overpassing the stream.

“Macintosh, I don’t think-“ Twilight’s doubts were interrupted by a click followed by a quiet, drawn out creak. The two turned to find the cottage door wide open, its doorway dark and empty. Big Macintosh shot the disbelieving filly a smug smile, and she just rolled her eyes in response.

“That was incredibly manipulative,” Twilight said with a glare to the stallion.

He smiled. “Ain’t no different than when a mare bats her eyelashes at some poor colt.”

Twilight shook her head as she walked back to Fluttershy’s. “Yes, but that’s also incredibly manipulative.”

Macintosh only nodded in agreement before following the unicorn.

Despite Twilight’s urgency to get in, she took her time as she crept to the open door with Big Macintosh following behind her. The interior was dark with the only light coming from a lit candle on a table, casting a weak orange glow around the room. A stark contrast to the brightness of the day. No matter how much they looked inside, neither Twilight nor Big Macintosh could see anything more but a few pieces of furniture and a lump of blankets in the middle of the floor.

“Fluttershy?” Twilight called as she stepped inside. The only answer was a small peep from amongst the pile of blankets. As the two approached closer, they realized that one of the mounds of sheets was actually the yellow pegasus curled into a little ball with several books scattered all around her.

“I…” Fluttershy finally spoke. Her usual whisper somehow even quieter and her eyes puffy and red. She didn’t say anything more and simply gestured a hoof towards the center of the bundle in the middle of the floor. Twilight’s gaze followed the yellow hoof’s direction and looked closely at the mass of blankets.

“Oh,” she said simply, her ears falling back. Curious, Big Mac approached the pile to find it less a pile and more a makeshift nest. An appropriate term considering the silver bird lying in its indented center. Its size was immense, with a body about as long as Big Mac’s foreleg. It’s beak was thick, squat, and curved like a parrot’s, yet it lacked much of the excess plumage common in those types of birds.

“Is it…” Twilight began as she cautioned a touch one of its outstretched tail feathers.

Fluttershy nodded as she wiped her eyes with a foreleg. “He died this morning.”

“I’m so sorry,” the unicorn said.

“It’s okay. It was probably for the best. The poor dear was sick for weeks. He couldn’t even open his eyes towards the...end.” She wiped her eyes again, but it did nothing to halt the tears falling to her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

Twilight immediately went up to her friend and gave her a comforting nuzzle on her cheek. “It’s okay, Fluttershy. These things happen.”

The pegasus nodded as she composed herself enough to speak again. “I wanted to bury him at his birthplace, but I don’t know where that is. I was hoping that maybe I could find out from one of these books.”

“Why is it so important to bury him there?” Twilight asked as her gaze fell to the floor at all the books scattered about.

“Well, um, because I feel like it’s a way to make up for not being able to…help,” Fluttershy whispered. “I have to.”

The answer was enough for the unicorn. “Don’t worry, we’re here to help. I’m sure with all of us reading these books we’ll find a solution in no time. Right, Macintosh?”

The red pony didn’t say anything. Instead dragging a book towards each of the mares in the room and taking one for himself.

“Thank you,” Flutter whispered as she opened her book, and Twilight nodded as she moved to read her own. Macintosh, meanwhile, didn’t open his book right off. His attention focused on the lifeless form in front of him. Especially the great wings whose wingspan could have easily been four times as long as its body.

“Did ya ever see it fly?” he asked.

“Um…no. I found him sick with a broken wing. I tried feeding him but he couldn’t keep anything down but water. And since last week he couldn’t even move,” Fluttershy answered, and Big Mac nodded his thanks as she went back to reading. But still, his book remained unopened and his gaze remained locked on the bird. It wasn’t until Twilight caught him staring at the creature and his eyes met hers did he finally open the tome and began to read.

The books were all catalogues and field guides, and so it took no time at all to read through them. His contained plenty of illustrations and descriptions of various bird species and families, but none of them described anything close to the one lying still in front of him. If Twilight’s frown and Fluttershy’s quiet sniffs were to be believed, they weren’t having much luck either.

It took the three of them a couple of hours to go through every single one of the nine books Twilight had brought, and even then the unicorn teleported to Canterlot to retrieve even more books from the palace library. By the time those were read, it was already noon.

“Nothing,” Twilight said as she haphazardly tossed her book aside. “If only…” her voice fell to a hopeless mutter as she rubbed her neck. She turned to look at the yellow pegasus. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Twilight,” Fluttershy said as she placed a comforting hoof on her friend’s shoulder. “You did your best.”

The unicorn nodded. “It’s actually quite interesting. For all we know this could be a new species of bird you discovered.”

Fluttershy just nodded and looked at the bird, and the other two followed suit. They didn’t say anything for a while, and just looked at the lifeless husk in front of them. Big Macintosh thought he would have liked to see it alive, to see it fly. Celestia knows he never had a chance to see anything that big soar above, besides a pegasus of course. But even a pegasus didn’t have wings that large.

“What do you think happens when we die?” Fluttershy suddenly asked in a whisper, her eyes never leaving the bird.

“I…” Twilight whispered before trailing off. Her eyes darted from the dead bird to Fluttershy to Macintosh and back to Fluttershy. “We…don’t have time for that. How about you tell us where you found him, maybe there’ll be something that can help us.”

Fluttershy looked at the unicorn for a moment as did Big Macintosh. He never knew Twilight to just shut down a question like that before. In fact, it seemed like one of those topics where the studious mare would drop the names of a few notable philosophers and quote passages upon passages of abstruse writings.

“O-okay, but there’s not much I can say,” Fluttershy said. “I remember it was close to the beginning of spring, the night after,” her eyes darted to Big Macintosh before gazing at the floor, “uh, you and Rarity enchanted the applecart.” There was an awkward silence for a few moments, during which both mares kept their eyes far away from Big Mac’s. He rolled his eyes, surprised that they still hadn’t gotten over it. It wasn’t as if the cart landed on them.

Finally, the pegasus continued. “It was a really windy night and I was about to go out to buy some last minute groceries for Angel when I saw the poor thing being swept away by the wind. So I took him in and tried to help him. But no matter what I tried he didn't get any better and the next week me and Macintosh gathered some plants for medicine.” The earth pony and pegasus quickly exchanged a knowing glance.

“I remember,” Twilight said. “Where exactly did you see him? And in what direction was he being blown?”

“Um, I think I first saw him near the Everfree Forest, going away from it,” she said.

Twilight tapped her chin as she narrowed her eyes in thought. “Then it wouldn’t be a big leap to say that he came from the forest. Maybe Zecora knows something about what kind of bird he is.”

Fluttershy’s eyes lit up for a split second and nodded her agreement. But the light behind her irises faded as they went back to the dead bird in front of her. She stared for a few seconds before carefully taking the corners of the blanket it rested upon and wrapping the sheet around the body.

“Big Macintosh,” she whispered, “could you, um, maybe…” her voice trailed off into nothing, but she didn’t have to repeat herself. Her question was clear enough. With tender care, Big Macintosh took some of the slack of the blanket within his teeth and brought the bundle to rest on his broad back. It felt like it weighed almost nothing.

“Alright. Let’s go,” Twilight said. The other two nodded and followed the unicorn out of the cottage and towards the Everfree Forest. Big Mac had never actually met Zecora, and only knew what his little sisters said of her. Only that she was a zebra and had helped them from time to time. He supposed she couldn’t be that bad, even if she lived in the most inhospitable place in all Equestria. A place he was none too happy about having to go back to.

As the three approached the edge of the forest (a short journey from Fluttershy’s cottage) Big Macintosh could feel a small shiver head down his back. As much as he hated to admit it, he was afraid.

But he wasn’t one to voice his fear out loud, and so just kept close to Twilight’s side as the woods around them became darker and darker despite the sun overhead. On the other side of Twilight, Fluttershy was doing the same and pressed closer against her friend. Big Mac knew that no matter how many times he went into the forest the faint icy feeling crawling along his back would never go away.

“Uh, Mac,” Twilight spoke up. “Could you stop leaning on me so much?” The stallion quickly righted himself, his cheeks a bit more red than usual.

“Sorry, Miss Sparkle. Just worried for yer safety,” he lied.

The three continued in silence for a time. After a few minutes, Fluttershy spoke. “You know,” she whispered, “I remember that, when I first took him inside, he wouldn’t stop flapping his wings and try to get out of the cottage. It took me a long time to finally convince him to calm down.”

Macintosh just listened, sure that she wasn’t looking for anyone to respond.

The trio came upon a tree that stood out from the rest. Its trunk was much too thick for its height, looking as if it were inflated and engorged with air. The tree’s strangest features were its windows and door, obviously not a common thing for a tree to have. Then again, this was the Everfree Forest and he wasn’t about to dismiss the thing entirely.

Twilight and Fluttershy approached the door while Big Macintosh stayed a comfortable distance back. The unicorn knocked and it took no time at all for a zebra to open the entrance and step forward.

“Twilight and Fluttershy, it is good to see you, and I see you’ve brought someone new,” Zecora said as she saw the red stallion.

“Oh right,” Twilight said. She raised a hoof towards Big Macintosh. “Zecora, Big Macintosh.” Then moved her hoof to point to Zecora. “Big Macintosh, Zecora.”

“Howdy,” the colt said simply.

“A pleasure to meet you, Big Macintosh. Please come in, I’m cooking squash,” Zecora said as she moved to the door. Before she could enter, Twilight spoke more.

“Sorry Zecora, but we’re in a bit of a hurry. You see Fluttershy was taking care of a really sick bird and he…passed away. We wanted to bury him at his birthplace but we don’t know where that is. All we know is that it might have come from the Everfree Forest, so we brought him to you hoping you might know something.”

Zecora’s gaze went to Mac and caught sight of the bundle on his back. “Say no more, my dear friend. Come inside and a hoof I shall lend.”

With that she turned to walk inside as Fluttershy, Twilight and Macintosh followed.

Inside, Zecora cleared her table free of various knick-knacks and offered the clean surface to Macintosh. He grabbed the bundle from his back and gently placed it down on the table. Slowly, he brought his teeth to each of the four tucked corners of the sheet and began to unwrap the body.

“No wait,” Fluttershy said as she spun her head away. An instant later everyone else was forced to do the same as a bright light emanated from the bird. Quickly, Big Macintosh draped the blanket over it once again and the brightness faded away.

“I’m sorry,” Fluttershy said. “I should have told you earlier that his wings shine when in the light.”

“You didn’t think to tell us?” Twilight said as she stared at the pegasus in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, but, no...”

Twilight brought a hoof to rub her forehead before looking back at the now covered bird. “That aside, it’s actually quite fascinating. I wonder why its wings are so reflective.”

Before Twilight could go on, Zecora had already begun. “There’s no doubt this is a Squall you have found, surely not a creature seen commonly around.”

“A Squall?” Fluttershy asked as her sight went to the covered bird.

“Yes, that’s right. They’re known for their wings shining bright,” Zecora removed a bit of the sheet, revealing a part of the bird’s shining feat.

“Does that mean you know where they live, Zecora?” Twilight asked as she covered her eyes from the bird’s reflective feathers.

“Indeed, my little unicorn, I do know where these birds are born. You must go to the northwest, as that is where you’ll begin your quest. There is a mountain there where the winds always blow, and to its peak is where you must go.”

“Thanks Zecora, we’ll go right now,” Twilight said as Fluttershy wrapped the Squall within the cloth.

“Um, Zecora?” Fluttershy whispered as Big Macintosh placed the bundle on his back.

“What is it dear Fluttershy? Feel free to ask and I shall reply,” Zecora said.

“Uh, well, what do you think happens when we die?”

“Fluttershy!” Twilight whispered harshly, but Zecora only lowered her head in a solemn nod.

“It is a question many of us ask, and providing an answer is no small task. But in my homeland it is said that the living are watched over by the dead. The departed protect their kin, so long as the living’s hearts are pure within. It is sad when loved ones die, but there is no need to cry. They are always there to provide strength for a time of any length.”

Fluttershy smiled at the zebra. “Thank you.”

“So,” Big Macintosh spoke, “they keep watchin’ over their families even after their gone?”

Zecora nodded and Big Macintosh smiled.

“Ah kinda like that.”

The sound of a closing door made the three turn their heads. The only thing Macintosh saw through the window was Twilight walking through the forest alone towards the northwest.

“What’s wrong with Twilight?” the red pony asked Fluttershy.

“I…don’t know,” she said. “Maybe we were taking to long.” Fluttershy stepped towards the door and Macintosh followed her. “Bye Zecora,” the pegasus said, “and thank you.”

“Worry no more, it’s what friends are for,” Zecora said as she waved her goodbye to them. It didn’t take long for the two to catch up to Twilight. Fluttershy asked why she left so soon, but the unicorn just silently trekked onward deeper into the Everfree Forest.

“I wonder what’s wrong,” Fluttershy said as she and Macintosh followed Twilight now several feet ahead.

“Ah don’t know, but whatever it is, it ain’t none of our concern. If she wants ta talk to us about it, she’ll talk to us about it but only if she’s ready,” Big Mac said.

“But…we’re her friends, aren’t we?” Fluttershy said as he turned her eyes towards the stallion.

“Miss Sparkle said the same thing when we were outside yer cottage. Ah don’t know how it is with y’all, but, the way Ah see it, forcing yer friends ta share their private thoughts doesn’t sound like somethin’ a friend should do.”

“I…I guess not…” Fluttershy mumbled. “But, sometimes, the animals I take care of don’t want my help either even if I know they really need it. Maybe friends are the same way?”

Big Macintosh didn’t say anything. Truth be told, he had to think about that one.

-*-

He knew that the forest would quickly grow dark no matter the time of day, but he didn’t expect for such a strong wind to pick up. It came all at once, as if someone had pushed a button to trigger the gust. Big Macintosh had to take the bundle in his teeth or else the wind might have blown it away. While Twilight had an easier time keeping her saddlebags on her as she adjusted the strap to face the wind. Fluttershy, however, had the least luck as her wings seemed to flail in the gust despite her best efforts to reign them in.

The sound of rustling leaves and the roar of wind only became louder as they went deeper in. They traveled so deep and for so long, in fact, that soon it appeared as if they had reached the other side. The trees and foliage began to thin out, and slowly the darkness that constantly enveloped the forest began to recede just a bit. But the raging winds still prevailed, and Big Macintosh knew that he wasn’t so lucky as to have exited the Everfree. What faced them only confirmed it.

Ahead of them lay a treeless plain of dried grass. The sun was hidden behind a thick layer of clouds, completely isolated and free of any sort of pegasi control. Colors became muted, lit only by the few meager rays of light penetrating the clouds.

At the far end of the field loomed a mountain so high its peak hid itself within the layer of cloud cover. It looked like a pillar of stone holding up the sky rather than anything nature would have created. A narrow outcropping spiraled down the stone face and acted as the only means of climbing to the top. The stone itself was a deep earth brown that resembled dirt rather than rock.

Big Mac quickly scanned the obstacle for a moment before coming to a realization: he was smiling. With that in mind, he took the first of many wind-swept steps towards his goal. Twilight took a bit longer to examine what lay ahead of them, and Fluttershy took even more time. But soon both of them were by Big Macintosh’s side, specifically the side that blocked most of the wind from them.

“Are you sure you have to bury him at his birthplace?” Twilight yelled over the rushing wind.

Fluttershy’s mouth moved to form words, but the gust carried them away before they could be heard. She finally obtained enough volume to say, “I guess not.” Her voice wasn’t so much a shout as it was a loud whisper. Hearing this, Big Macintosh placed the wrapped Squall beneath his hoof to keep it from blowing away while freeing his mouth to speak.

“So yer gonna give up?” he asked.

“Well, uh,” Fluttershy stuttered, but he didn’t give her time to continue.

“That’s just fine, Miss Shy. Ya’ll go back and Ah’ll head on alone.” And with that, he grabbed the bundle once again and pressed forward. He wasn’t surprised when the two stepped alongside him.

Stronger and stronger winds accompanied each step closer to the mountain, and each step forward seemed harder to take than the last. The wind felt like a hurricane by the time the three reached the foot of the path, and Big Macintosh had to fight to keep his footing.

He looked ahead at the path winding up the mountainside. It was just wide enough for them to walk side by side, but it would be a tight fit. Luckily, his side was the side at the ledge. He wrapped his foreleg around the covered bird to say something, but no matter how loud he yelled even his deep bellow was overtaken by the sound of wind. The three looked at each other for a moment, and they all knew it would be impossible to speak from that point on.

Big Macintosh grabbed the Squall in his teeth again and took his first unsteady steps forward with Twilight and Fluttershy.

For a second, Twilight’s horn began to glow only to flicker out. She tried again, and this time managed to create a purple wall of light to block much of the wind. But Big Macintosh saw the strain on the unicorn’s face as she tried her best to maintain the spell. He didn’t know how long she could keep it up, but he knew he didn’t want to risk her tiring out in such a dangerous place. So with a gentle nudge from his shoulder to hers, he locked eyes with her and shook his head. She hesitated, whether because of reluctance or time taken to understand his meaning he didn’t know, but soon the wall of purple evaporated. Leaving Macintosh to act as the only buffer between the wind, the ledge, and a fall. Strangely, no matter which side of the mountain the three were on, Big Macintosh always felt the brunt of the wind as if the mountain itself was drawing the gales towards it.

Despite the protection from the wind, Fluttershy still had to walk between Twilight and Macintosh. Being squeezed between them provided the only means for her wings to stay at her sides. Big Mac could feel the pegasus shiver beside him. He wanted to say something to comfort her but, between the cloth in his mouth and the rush of wind, he couldn’t.

They took their time, silent but determined, up the barren outcropping. Loose gravel created unstable steps, and it wasn’t long before Mac’s back leg slipped off the ledge. He recovered easily, but didn’t dare look at the mares next to him. He didn’t want to see the worried looks on their faces. Instead he just kept his gaze straight ahead. It wasn’t the last time one of his legs slipped, but usually it was only a single one which, though frightening, wasn’t particularly dangerous.

Only once did both his front and back leg fall off the side, bringing him down on the ledge. He barely had time to think when he felt his other hind leg slide off as well. His heart skipped a beat as he swung his foreleg back on the edge, allowing him to hang for his life.

Twilight reacted quickly, and with a glow of magic managed to levitate Mac’s hind legs back onto relatively solid ground. The stallion rested for a moment, trying his hardest to slow his breath. But it wouldn’t stop its rapid pace no matter how hard he tried. He’d almost died, and all for the sake of a stupid bird. But he wasn’t doing it for the Squall’s sake, he wasn’t even doing it for Fluttershy. As he remembered that one fact, his breathing calmed. Slowly, he stood on all four hooves and tried to shake off the tiny spasms in his back legs where Twilight had magically held them. But they wouldn’t stop. It wasn’t until he stopped trying that he realized it wasn’t Twilight’s magic causing his condition; it was fear.

Twilight and Fluttershy approached him as quickly as the forceful winds allowed them, but Big Macintosh raised a hoof to stop them. He bowed his head to Twilight in thanks, adjusted the bundle within his teeth, and trudged on. Macintosh’s steps weren’t as steady after that, though they were much more careful. As the three returned to their original position with Fluttershy in the middle, he realized that she was no longer the only one shivering.

The red pony didn’t know how long they walked. It felt like hours, but without knowing the sun’s position he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that each trip around the mountain, while still time-consuming, was becoming shorter.

They finally stopped before a wall of rock cropping forward the higher it went. The only way through (besides flight or teleportation, the heavy winds making both a risky prospect) was a cave that led to who-knew-where. Big Macintosh was the first to step forward into the still darkness of the cave, and Fluttershy and Twilight followed soon after.

Finally, the three found reprieve from the harsh winds. As Big Mac placed the wrapped Squall on his back, he saw nothing but black ahead of them. He looked over at the other two ponies to see them sharing the same look of worry. They were all asking the same question. How deep did the cave go and was there even an exit? Shaking the question out of his head, Big Macintosh wasted no time pressing forward with soft steps. The last thing he needed was to find some sudden pit in the path. His worry only lasted a second before Twilight’s horn glowed a dark ruddy purple, providing a soft light to see by.

The cave walls were smooth, as if carved from the mountain rather than anything formed naturally. It was big enough for all three to comfortably stand side-by-side, and high enough to fit all three if they were to stand on each other’s backs if they were so inclined.

“Are you okay?” The words seemed to burst out of Twilight as if anxious to get out.

“Eeyup.”

“Macintosh, you almost died! Are you sure?” Twilight asked, the disbelief apparent in her voice.

“Eeyup,” he lied.

Twilight looked at him for a moment before just nodding and stepping forward along with Macintosh. But they only took a few steps before they realized that Fluttershy wasn’t with them. They looked back to find the yellow pegasus frozen in place, not daring to go deeper. Twilight backtracked and stood by her friend, leaning against her to still the shivering mare. But the effort proved futile.

“Fluttershy, what’s wrong?” Twilight asked as she rubbed the yellow mare’s back in an effort to calm her while Big Mac approached the two.

“I-I’m sorry,” she said with a sob. “I’m so sorry for making you do this.”

“No one’s making us do this,” Twilight assured her. “We’re doing this because we want to help you, and if this means so much to you that you’re willing to go through all this,” she said with a wave of her hoof gestured not only to the cave surrounding them but also to the situation as a whole, “then we’re right beside you.”

“I-I know,” Fluttershy said, “but Big Macintosh almost…” she trailed off. “And I can’t do this if it means that my friends might-“

“Stop.” Big Macintosh said as he faced the pegasus. Surprised, Fluttershy looked up to meet his eyes. He grabbed the bundle from his back to place it between them.

“Miss Shy, Ah’m the one that almost fell off that ledge, not you. And if ya ask me, feelin’ guilty about it is pretty dang selfish of ya. Almost dying is my burden ta carry, and if you want ta carry something then carry that bird. It’s why yer here in the first place, ain’t it?”

Fluttershy’s gaze fell to the bird before coming back up to meet his gaze again. Her head dropped to grab the Squall and, slowly, she inched herself forward. It was enough, and the other two kept her pace.

The walk was slow and monotonous, and no one quite knew how long and how far they traversed the inky black. Stranger still, their path bent and spiraled downward. Big Macintosh wondered for a brief moment whether they were just going to end up outside the mountain as part of a wild goose chase. It seemed to be the case as he saw the bright glow of daylight appear in the distance. Fluttershy sped up to a trot and suddenly Twilight and Big Macintosh found themselves having to catch up with her.

But their elation didn’t last long as they realized that the exit didn’t lead outside as they had expected. Instead, they had entered a colossal hollow within the mountain. If Big Mac had to guess, he’d say that it was big enough to fit the Apple family barn and a couple of fields to boot.

The grass beneath his hooves was only a fraction of the landscape within the hollow. On the other side, gushing through the rock wall, shimmered a stream of water that flowed into a small pool. The water fed not only the grass but the several flowers, shrubbery and a singular tree standing at the very center.

The tree was bathed with light coming from up above. Looking up, Big Macintosh saw that the walls of the hollow formed a cone shape, not completely, which allowed the sun to shine brightly through. Oddly, the sun hung directly above them, thus setting the time at noon. Which was impossible, since it had been around noon when they had left for Zecora’s.

The tree’s thick trunk held a great mass of leaves above it, stretched out a great many feet from the origin, but the greatest sign that the three had indeed arrived at their destination flittered through the branches with a rustle of leaves. They looked exactly like the bird bundled within the sheet that Fluttershy held, but with two distinct differences; their feathers didn’t shine in the light, but instead were a matte gray and they weren’t quite as big. They flew about between their twig nests and clusters of small, deep orange spheres nestled between the leaves. They took the spheres within their powerful beaks and broke the hard shells with a crack before taking the broken nut in their talon. Sometimes they would eat the softer insides immediately, other times they would bring the broken nut back to their nest.

“Amazing,” Twilight said, approaching the center of the plain. “It’s an entire ecosystem isolated in such a small space. And judging by the size of this tree, this system has been in place for decades, if not centuries. Can you imagine?” she asked no one in particular, which was fine since no one really paid her any attention. The sun above still held Mac’s focus while Fluttershy began digging at the ground with her hoof. Once he heard the distinctive sound of a hoof scratching against dirt, Big Macintosh looked at the pegasus for a moment. He fought the urge to help her, knowing that this was something the pegasus had to do on her own. It meant the most to her.

“I wonder what kind of tree this is,” Twilight continued as she placed a hoof to the trunk.

As soon as the pony touched the wood the fluttering of wings seemed to cease as every bird suddenly found the unicorn highly interesting.

“Uh, Twilight,” Mac said, noticing where the Squalls held their sights.

But she ignored him. “It’s obviously a nut-bearing tree, but those require much more sunlight than could possibly shine through the ceiling each day.” The unicorn caught sight of a low-hanging fruit and reached for it. As soon as her hoof touched the shell the sky seemed to darken. Twilight looked up wide-eyed as, in a frenzy of feathers and squawks, the birds descended upon her.

With a sudden shriek, Twilight ran from the pecking beaks and scratching talons while trying to bat them away with a flailing foreleg. Big Macintosh quickly sprinted to meet her and the unicorn dove beneath him as her saddlebag fell from her. He tried his best to swat away the flock, but only received a few scratches for his efforts.

Amongst all the chaos, Big Macintosh saw a familiar yellow blur as Fluttershy darted into the mass of birds. “Please stop,” she said, and Big Mac was surprised by her even tone. Her plea seemed to work as the birds stopped their onslaught for the moment. Some alighted to the ground while others kept their place in the air. “Please,” the pegasus continued, “she didn’t mean to offend you. We just came here to…to lay one of your own to rest.” The Squalls, however, did not react kindly to this and screeched and cried at her as if threatening to attack again.

“I tried everything I could to help him,” Fluttershy went on in hopes of calming the flock, “but I couldn’t.” She took a moment to wipe her eyes with a foreleg before going on. “So we came here to bring him back home.”

The mass of birds looked at her with the same observation that reminded Big Macintosh of the eyes of the Ursa Major when she had looked at him. It was a stare that seemed to look past the physical world and into one of heartfelt sentiments, emotions, and the words and actions used to express them.

Satisfied, the birds flew off with a final gust of air from their flapping wings. Half of them returned to the tree holding their nests, and the other half soared upwards through the hole in the ceiling. Their feathers shone brightly once they flew above the peak, much like the bundled Squall’s had done at Zecora’s hut. That’s when Big Macintosh realized that the light above them was no sun, but rather a gathering of birds.

“I don’t think they like it when you touch their food,” Fluttershy said quietly to Twilight as she turned towards the other two ponies and crouched down to look at the unicorn.

“No kidding,” Twilight said as she moved to get out from under Big Macintosh. “Thanks Fluttershy, and you too Macintosh.”

“It’s okay,” the pegasus said before walking to the grave to continue her digging, while Macintosh only nodded his response. But Twilight didn’t seem to notice either of them as she became enraptured in her new findings.

“Incredible,” the unicorn said, looking up at the false sun, “If we’re to assume that they’re the same gender as the Squall that Fluttershy took care of, then it seems like the males reflect enough sunlight for the tree to grow, while the smaller females gather food. But why did they attack me when I touched the tree?”

Macintosh rolled his eyes as he moved towards Fluttershy. She had finished her digging, the hole she made deep and squared and with plenty of room for the deceased. The pegasus looked at him for a moment before she shifted her attention to the bundle lying next to her. Without a word, Big Macintosh lifted the bundle with his teeth and lowered it into the grave.

Twilight joined the two as the stallion began filling up the Squall’s final resting place. He finished with a final pat on the mound of dirt and Twilight levitated a sizable rock towards them to mark the grave. The three stood in silence. None of them could say how long the quiet lasted in the hollow where the light of a noon sun always shone.

“Goodbye,” Fluttershy whispered at last. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

“Ya brought ‘im home,” Macintosh said. “Celestia knows that’s all Ah would ever want.”

The pegasus only nodded before turning towards the stallion. “Uh, Big Macintosh... what do you think happens when we die?”

“Well,” Big Macintosh took several moments to collect his thoughts. The question was a heavy one, and he didn’t want to leave the answer half done. “Ah guess Ah sorta always believed that once an earth pony dies they get buried so they can feed the earth. Ah’m gonna die at the Acres so Ah always thought that my body would go an’ feed the apple trees at the orchard an’ then those apples would feed my descendents.”

“Oh,” the pegasus said, “but, that’s just your body Big Macintosh.”

He smiled at her. “Ah am my body, Miss Shy, but Ah s’pose Ah really liked what Miss Zecora said.” He remained quiet for awhile before asking, “So what do you think happens when we go, Miss Shy?”

“Oh, um…” Fluttershy mumbled. “Well…” she paused her stuttering for moment to scratch at the grass beneath her hoof. “Once I tried to take care of Princess Celestia’s pet phoenix.” She turned towards Twilight. “Do you remember when we tried to take care of Philomena?” she asked.

“How can I forget?” Twilight said, “It might have been a long time ago but I still laugh about it.” Despite her statement, her downcast eyes and deep frown didn’t seem in any sort of laughing mood.

Fluttershy nodded before looking back at Macintosh and speaking in her usual whisper. “There was a moment where I thought she…died. When I held her ashes I felt like I failed. As if I had let Philomena, the princess, Twilight, and myself down. I’ve taken care of a lot of animals and not all of them…make it,” she used a leg to wipe her eyes that didn’t have tears. “But I think, even though they don’t come back to life like a phoenix, that after they…after we die we keep living but…somewhere else, I think.”

Twilight was quiet for a few seconds. They all were, until her eyes stopped at the small mound of dirt and the rock that marked the grave. “I’m sorry about the Squall, Fluttershy. I’m sure you did everything you could for him.”

“I know,” Fluttershy whispered. “I just…I just wish it didn’t hurt so much.”

“Would ya really wan’ it ta stop hurtin’ every time an animal dies?” Big Macintosh asked.

“No.” She didn’t hesitate. “I...I don’t want to be the kind of pony that doesn’t feel anything when...that happens.”

“You said you were going to die at Sweet Apple Acres,” Twilight suddenly spoke up as she looked at the farmpony. “As if it was certain. How do you…picture it?”

Big Macintosh didn’t have to think for long. “It’s sunset on the last day of Applebuck season and Ah’m headin’ to the barn pullin’ a cart with the very last apples of the harvest. Ah go in and unhitch myself. My legs are hurtin’ and my back aches but all my chores are done. Ah decide ta take a nap right there in the barn on a big pile of straw. Then all that ache and all that tired just goes away and Ah never wake up again.”

Twilight looked back and forth between Fluttershy and Macintosh, and he could see her eyes start to water. “How can it be so easy for the two of you? Macintosh, what if it doesn’t turn out like you planned? What if something happens and you end up dying in some ditch in the forest? I mean, you almost died today far away from home. And Fluttershy, what if you’re wrong about what happens after death. What if…what if…”

“Twilight, what’s wrong?” Fluttershy asked as she stepped next to the unicorn. Twilight could only sit and lean against her friend.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” she said meekly, as if realizing the feebleness of her assertion. Quietly, Big Macintosh approached and sat beside her.

“Ah remember you sayin’ that it ain’t right ta leave a friend in need be, even if they don’t want any help,” he said softly.

“And I remember you saying that your burdens are yours and yours alone to carry,” Twilight retorted.

“Eeyup, Ah did. My burdens are my own ta carry, but Ah can carry yers too. Ah can handle it, believe me, my back’s strong enough,” he said with a soft smile.

Twilight wiped her eyes as she nodded. She didn’t make eye contact with either of them and instead gazed intently at the ground. “I know what happens after we die.”

“R-really?” Fluttershy whispered as if Twilight had said a foul word. “How?”

“Remember when that cockatrice turned me into stone?” Twilight answered with her own question. Fluttershy replied but in a voice so quiet no one could hear her. So she simply gestured yes with a nod.

“I was on my way to Zecora’s when I heard a rustling in a few bushes.” Twilight’s voice wavered as she recalled that night. “The last thing I remember was seeing the cockatrice and then...nothing. That’s what happens when we die: nothing. For all intents and purposes I was dead, and all I saw was black. When I was turned back to normal, it was like waking up from a dreamless sleep.”

Neither Fluttershy nor Big Macintosh said anything for a long while. The only sound that could be heard was the splash of the gurgling stream and Twilight’s quiet sniffs. Slowly, Fluttershy brought a hoof to the unicorn’s shoulder.

“You didn’t die,” she said.

“I did,” Twilight insisted.

“Then how are ya here right now, Miss Sparkle?” Big Macintosh asked. “Ya almost died, and almost dying ain’t the same as the real thing. Believe me, Ah know.”

Twilight didn’t respond and only looked down at her hooves.

“Besides, Ah don’t think that’s what’s buggin’ ya.”

The unicorn’s head jerked upward to glare at him along with Fluttershy, though her own look was more one of simple confusion.

“Ya heard me,” Big Macintosh said as he stared right back at Twilight. “You ain’t worried ‘bout nothin’ happenin’ after death. Ah think yer scared ‘cause ya can’t know what happens after death, and you can’t handle not knowin’.”

“Yeah, because I actually like using my intelligence,” Twilight said as she stood up and walked over to face him. “And I’m not some stubborn stallion who’s perfectly content with having blinders on. Do you know how hard it is for me to accept the fact that, no matter how much I research and how hard I try to comprehend, this one bit of knowledge will remain out of my reach until I actually go through it?” She paced back and forth in front of the red pony, and he could see tears start to flow down her cheeks. “I’ve devoted my life trying to understand the world, but there’s no book in any library that can help me understand what happens after I close my eyes for good. That scares me more than anything else.” She stopped in front of Macintosh to stare at him. “I wouldn’t feel so bad if I just knew, if I just…”

She couldn’t continue, the strain on her voice too great as her tears gained force and number and started to freely flow from her eyes. Big Macintosh didn’t say a thing and only wrapped a foreleg around her neck and drew her to him in a hug. She didn’t resist, and buried her head in his chest.

“C’mon now sugarcube,” he whispered. “There ain’t no reason for ya ta worry about those kinds of things when yer so young. Take it from a pony that’s closer to the end than you are.”

“You’re not that much older than me,” came her muffled reply.

He chuckled, “Nnope. But the way things are goin’, what with me fallin’ offa ledges and gettin’ crushed by applecarts, that ain’t gonna matter much.”

“How can you joke about those things? Especially falling off the mountain.” Twilight said as she looked up at him.

“Ah survived, didn’t Ah?” he said calmly as he rubbed a gentle hoof along her back. “Twilight, the thing about death is that it can happen at anytime. Yeah, we all got those moments where we can’t help thinkin’ about it, and that’s normal. Heck, Ah worry all the time about what my family’s gonna do once Ah go. But worryin’ about it ain’t gonna change anythin’, so why bother?”

“He’s right, Twilight,” Fluttershy said gently as she approached the two. “You don’t think about death all the time, do you?”

“I don’t,” the unicorn confessed with a sigh. Her crying calmed and her breathing returned to a slow pace. Twilight looked at her two friends with a smile. “Thanks you two.”

Fluttershy nodded happily as she laid herself down next to Big Macintosh, his arms still wrapped around Twilight. He looked down at the unicorn whose puffy eyes were focused on the pegasus next to them. He was glad she stopped crying, but how much longer were they going to stay in this position?

“Uh, Twilight?” he asked.

She looked up. “Yeah?” she asked, not a hint of awkwardness in her voice. Again she showed that social ineptness that allowed her to see their position as nothing more than friends being friends.

He looked at her, and after having his own mental debate finally said “Nothin’.”

Twilight looked at him quizzically before turning her head to comfortably lean against his chest once more.

The three were quiet for a few minutes before Fluttershy broke the silence. “Thank you, both of you. I don’t think I could have made this trip without you.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Twilight said with a smile.

-*-

Other than the few slips here and there, the trip back down was uneventful and absolutely wordless. The only sound came from the wind and the trio’s hoofsteps. Their surroundings became dimmer as the unseen sun undoubtedly began its descent. Though how close it came to the horizon was impossible to tell. The way Macintosh saw it, they either had an hour of sunlight or three.

By the time they entered the thick forest of the Everfree, Twilight was ahead of the other two. Her steps seemed lighter, as if a weight had been taken off her back. Neither Fluttershy nor Big Macintosh really minded, they were just happy that she had stopped worrying about the end.

“After awhile,” Fluttershy spoke, “when he realized he couldn’t fly anymore, he looked out the window sometimes,” she said, recounting another story. “The look in his face when he stared out to the sky... it kind of reminds me of the way you look, Big Macintosh.”

The farmpony just nodded. “Ah s’pose since Ah’ve been injured Ah sorta been missin’ my work. But that ain’t no real secret.”

Fluttershy’s cheeks suddenly turned a light red. “Actually, um, I meant… nevermind.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her, but didn’t say anything more. He thought that would be the end of their conversation, but it wasn’t.

“Um, Big Macintosh?” Fluttershy spoke again, and the workpony simply grunted to signal that he was paying attention.

“Do you, um, like being a farmer?” she asked.

“ ‘course Ah do, ain’t nothin’ Ah’d rather be,” Big Mac said without hesitation.

“Oh…did you always want to be a farmer?” She turned to look at him, but he wouldn’t return her look.

“Miss Shy, just what in the hay are ya gettin’ at?” He asked, a bit annoyed at the yellow mare’s questions.

“I’m sorry, I’m just curious,” Fluttershy said as she returned her sight to the path ahead of them. This time, Big Macintosh was sure their conversation had ended for good and again he was wrong.

“You know, most birds are meant to fly,” Fluttershy continued in a whisper. “But when they can’t they start having a...look in their eyes. It reminds me of your eyes, how they’re almost closed all the time...”

Big Macintosh didn’t say anything, and so the pegasus spoke further. “Do you think that, um, you’re doing what you’re meant to be doing?”

The farmpony looked at her as if she had said the moon was falling. “Miss Shy, a pony ain’t meant ta do anythin’ other than what makes ‘em happy. And there ain’t nothin’ in this world that makes me happier than providin’ for my family. That look yer talkin’ about must just be a coincidence.”

“I...I guess,” Fluttershy mumbled. “As long as you’re happy.” The conversation over for good, Macintosh nodded to the pegasus before looking straight ahead.

It wasn’t long until they finally left the Everfree Forest and saw that the sun had just begun its final descent below the horizon. Soon after, they arrived at Fluttershy’s cottage. The goodbyes were short, the kind of goodbyes tired ponies gave each other after a long day.

Twilight and Macintosh wordlessly headed for the library. The sun finally disappeared below the landscape and night fell over the almost empty streets of Ponyville. Thankfully, there was no cold breeze to send chills across the walking ponies and the air was completely still.

“Macintosh?” Twilight’s voice peeped up.

“Eeyup?”

“I know you don’t think about death a lot, but,” she quieted down as she looked at her hooves, “are you scared of it? I know that it’s pointless to worry about something outside of my control, but is it just as irrational to fear it?”

“Twilight,” Big Macintosh whispered, “Ah’m scared too.”

The unicorn didn’t look at him, and only nodded as she inched herself closer to him. Another bout of silence overtook the two. Macintosh focused on the stars above while Twilight kept looking downward towards her hooves.

“I know I already said this, but thanks. You really risked a lot to help out Fluttershy,” Twilight finally said.

“You risked a lot, too,” he said.

“Yeah, but she’s one of my best friends. You hardly know her, and I really appreciate you doing this for her.”

“Ta be honest, Ah wasn’t doin’ it for her,” he said. He immediately wished he hadn’t as Twilight stopped in her tracks.

“Wait, what?” she said as she looked at him in disbelief, “then why did you do it?”

“Ah wanted somethin’ to do,” he said as he moved forward.

“You…wanted something to do,” Twilight repeated as she followed him. “Macintosh, no offense, but that’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. Nopony risks their life just for something to do.”

Big Macintosh sighed. “Miss Sparkle, ya know what Ah did this mornin’? Ah tasted cake with Pinkie Pie. Ya know what Ah did yesterday? Ah went to a spa with Rarity and Rainbow Dash. Now Ah ain’t sayin’ that Ah don’t like spendin’ time with y’all, ‘cause Ah do. But it’s been a while since Ah actually did something important. An’ today, Ah never felt better than when Ah climbed that dang mountain and buried that bird.”

“Macintosh,” Twilight said slowly, as if still trying to comprehend the stallion’s words, “you can’t have done all that just because you need to feel useful.”

“Eeyup,” came his simple answer. “It’s why Ah use a rusty plow blade instead of a new one. It’s why Ah use a plow during Winter Wrap-Up but a shovel when Ah clear snow offa Ponyville’s roads, it’s why Ah bucked apple trees by myself before AJ was old enough. Ah’m a farmpony, a big brother, and a grandson and if Ah don’t go ta bed feelin’ tired, mentally or physically, or if Ah don’t spend the day doin’ one of those three things then Ah’ll feel like that day wasn’t worth it.”

“Worth what?” Twilight asked. By then the pair arrived at Twilight’s library, and Big Macintosh couldn’t help but feel relieved.

“Goodnight, Miss Sparkle,” he said as he turned towards the opposite direction.

“Fine, Macintosh.” The words made him pause with their deceptive finality. He knew there was more she would say and more she expected him to say. A gentle breeze began to pick up and instantly it felt as if he were back on that mountain, on that spiraling path with his hooves inches from falling off the ledge. He didn’t want to turn around, didn’t want to face that mare who looked at him the same way she looked at her books and asked him questions he didn’t want to answer.

“But I want to ask you one last thing, and I want you to answer me honestly,” Twilight said.

Finally he forced himself to turn and face her. They stared at each other, she with a prying scrutiny as she stood in front of her home of immeasurable knowledge and he with his uncomplicated and half-lidded stare while he stood out in the open, an easy target.

The unicorn continued. “You’re a big brother, a grandson, and a farmpony, and you want to feel useful. That’s fine. But what happens when you can’t be all those things as much as you want? Applejack’s told me how much trouble you’ve had from being unable to work, and that’s only after two months. But there’s going to be a day when you can’t work the farm as much as you’d like. There’s going to be a day when Applejack and Applebloom won’t need you as much, and I’m sorry to say this but I think that day’s already here. What happens then, Big Macintosh, when you can’t be a farmpony, when you can’t be a big brother, and when you’re not a grandson anymore?”

Macintosh looked at her for a while as his thoughts turned towards his family and his home. He knew she was right, but he didn’t want to admit it to himself. Not yet. Finally, he decided to simply answer her honestly just as she wanted him to.

“Ah don’t know,” his voice was quiet, “and that scares me much more than the thought of dyin’. Ain’t no amount of yer thinkin’ or my workin’ is gonna change that,” he said.

“I guess not,” Twilight said as she looked down at her hooves once again.

“Goodnight, Miss Sparkle,” Big Macintosh said, and with that, he turned around and headed home. Leaving the unicorn alone on her porch to stare at him as he left.

The walk back to Sweet Apple Acres was much colder than usual. He allowed himself to shiver, just slightly.

-*-

“Howdy, big brother,” Applejack said as Big Macintosh entered the kitchen. She looked ready for bed, her hat and hair bands missing from her head. He noticed a glass of milk and a plate of oatmeal cookies sitting in front of her. “Just gettin’ a snack before bed,” she explained when she saw where his eyes were focused.

Big Mac nodded as he went to fetch his own glass of milk. “How was plowin’ the field?”

“Ah think it went pretty good. Wasn’t as hard as Ah thought it would be once Ah put in the new blade,” she chuckled. “Ah put yer harness in your room by yer Miss Smartypants doll. Ya know, Ah think maybe Ah could plow a bit more around the farm. Maybe help ya out a bit.”

He didn’t say anything. A simple nod signaled that he heard her. He placed his glass of milk next to hers and sat beside her. “Where’s Applebloom and Granny Smith?” he asked.

“Well, Applebloom’s over at Rarity’s for a sleepover with her friends, an’ Granny Smith is upstairs turnin’ in for bed,” she said.

He gave her another nod. “Seems like Applebloom sleeps over with her friends more than she sleeps here.”

Applejack just laughed. “Nah, at most its about once every couple of weeks.”

“Still feels like Ah hardly see her,” he said before taking a sip from his glass.

“That’s ‘cause she’s usually in bed once ya get home.”

He nodded and took another sip. Twilight’s words kept replaying over and over in his head. He didn’t know how long he could keep being a farmpony, but maybe he could prolong being a big brother for just a while longer.

“When was the last time we went campin’?” he asked his sister.

Applejack stared at him with a tilt of her head. “Well that was outta the blue. Ah don’t know, Ah guess since Applebloom was just a baby.” She tipped her glass to finish the last of her milk.

“How ‘bout you, Applebloom and me go this weekend,” he said. The sudden declaration caused Applejack to gag on her milk. She finally swallowed her drink and began coughing violently. Her big brother patted her back and waited patiently for her to regain composure.

“What about the farm?” she finally said.

“It’ll be fine for a few days.”

“Wait,” she said with a shake of her head. “Yer telling me that the farm will be okay without us for a weekend? Are ya feelin’ okay, Mac?”

“Eeyup.”

Applejack tapped her chin in thought. “Well Ah guess that’d be fine. But we’ll probably have ta work a bit harder through the week to make up for the missed days. And we’ll have ta rebuild the cart ta hold all our gear... and Ah guess we’ll be going to our usual camping spot, so that’s gonna be fun. Yeah, that’s a mighty fine idea now that Ah think about it.”

Big Macintosh smiled and brought his forelegs around his sister for a hug. Applejack let out a small yelp of surprise, but before she could say anything she was released from the embrace. The eldest Apple placed his glass in the sink and headed for bed, leaving his sister at the kitchen table to stare at him as he left.

As he approached the top floor, he heard the familiar sound of Granny Smith gurgling some water in the upstairs bathroom. Big Macintosh saw the elderly mare heading for her room as he climbed up to the landing. A sudden question struck him and, before he could think otherwise, he spoke.

“What do ya think happens when we die?” he blurted out.

Granny Smith seemed to take the question in stride as she turned to look at her grandson. “Ya haven’t asked me a question like that since ya were jus’ a colt. What’s got ya so worked up about death all a sudden?”

“Ah just...wanna know,” he said.

She nodded sagely before stepping towards the stallion and placed a gentle hoof on the back of his neck. “Now listen here, Macintosh. Once ya get ta be mah age ya start ta realize that ya’ve lived a good life. Ya have children, and they have children, and, if those children ever get enough sense to git off the farm fer a spell an’ meet a nice mare ‘r colt, they have children.” Granny Smith looked at him meaningfully, but Big Macintosh pretended not to know what his grandmother was getting at and only gave her his usual blank expression. With a small chuckle, she continued. “Ya got a head full a memories, a heart full a love an’ regret, an’ a body that’s plum tuckered out. An’ while ya wish ya could stay awhile longer, ya realize that it can’t last forever an’ ya really don’t wan’ it to anyway. If Ah were ta die tomorrow, Ah’d die happy. As fer what happens after that? Well, whatever happens happens and Ah’ll be ready ta face it. Do ya understand?”

Big Macintosh did, or at least, most of it. He nodded to his grandmother, and she smiled.

“Good,” she said with a smile as she removed her hoof from around her grandson. “Say, Ah ever tell ya how Ah met yer grandfather at his bakery?”

Macintosh smiled at the old mare, “Ah don’t think so granny. How’d ya meet ‘im?”

9. Used Up

Used Up

The next week became filled with chores upon chores upon chores. Even Big Macintosh, much to his delight, took up a few duties, though they were usually as simple as carrying something light from point A to point B, or making sure the plants were well watered. Aside from those rudimentary responsibilities, there was one chore that he relished in: rebuilding the applecart. This work was done by all three of the Apple siblings inside their barn and, even though he was confined to driving in nails and helping Applejack prop up wooden planks, working with his family was incredibly satisfying.

So far Big Macintosh and Applejack had built the cart’s frame and attached the wheels, and all that was left was to nail and screw the rest of the planks to the structure and then seal and stain the wood. They had built it bigger this time, the Apple family business having grown since the last time the cart was built, but the construction work didn’t stay exclusively to the Apples for long.

It started innocently enough. One day Applebloom was so bored of work that the elder siblings told her to go play. The next thing they knew the little filly had brought her friends to help, all hoping to gain a cutie mark in carpentry despite the fact that they had already tried for it before. When Applejack pointed out that fact they simply said they were trying for a persistence cutie mark as well. Big Macintosh didn’t even bother asking what such a cutie mark would even look like.

Today, however, saw only two crusaders in the barn. Scootaloo held up both a screw and her end of the plank the metal would soon go through, while Sweetie Belle held up the other end. Applejack, meanwhile, was on the other side of the cart carefully drilling holes into the planks with a hoof drill. Not having much experience with the tool, she struggled to hold the handle in her teeth while pressing against the rotating crank with her hoof.

Big Macintosh spat the screwdriver from his mouth. “Sugarcube, that screw’s too short,” he told Scootaloo for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning. With a groan, the two dropped the same plank for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning. Sweetie Belle shook her head as she walked towards the tool cabinet.

“But these are the longest I could find,” Scootaloo said as she lowered her hoof from the applecart and tossed the screw back into its wooden box with a small clink.

“I found some longer ones,” Sweetie Belle chimed in as she pushed a small box towards her pegasus friend.

“They’re the same!” Scootaloo said as she split her sight between the wooden case Sweetie brought and her own.

“No they’re not,” Sweetie Belle said.

“Are too.”

“Are not.”

Big Macintosh rolled his eyes, stunned that they were too engrossed in their bickering to actually measure the damn things. He didn’t say anything and simply went towards the small tool cabinet and looked through the dozens of tiny square drawers on its front face that held the various nuts, bolts, screws, and nails. Once he found screws long enough, he took out the small wooden box of a drawer and went back to the cart.

“That’s enough you two,” Applejack finally intervened after taking the mechanical hoof drill from her mouth. “Now where in tarnation is Applebloom? She said she’d be here by now.”

The two just shrugged and Applejack brought a hoof to her forehead. “Well, she better get here might quick or else there’ll be hay ta pay,” she said as she went back to drilling holes into the wood. Big Macintosh, meanwhile, brought the box of screws to Scootaloo, who propped up her end of the plank (Sweetie Belle holding up the other) and brought the screw in front of its breech. Macintosh carefully lined up the screwdriver with the head of the screw, but just as the tip was about to meet with the screw’s head the loud slam of the barn door disrupted the stallion’s concentration.

“Ah’m here, Ah’m here, and y’all never guess what Ah found,” Applebloom said as she came dashing into the barn with a book bouncing on her back. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle dropped everything they were doing and ran up to meet her halfway. As soon as the Cutie Mark Crusaders were reunited Applebloom dropped her book between them.

“So Ah was at the library ta look up books about Paradise Loch-“

“Paradise what?” Sweetie Belle interrupted.

“Paradise Loch. It’s where Ah’m goin’ campin’,” Applebloom explained. “So Twilight gave me this book, and look at what Ah found,” she said. She kicked open the book to a bookmarked page and her friends whispered a collective ‘oooh’ as they leaned in for a better look.

“Wow, it’s so pretty,” Sweetie Belle said.

“Yeah, the pegasus that took this picture must have been an expert,” Scootaloo added. Neither of them noticed Big Macintosh come up behind them to see what they were all looking at. On the page was a photograph of an aerial view of Paradise Loch. The lake shimmered gold and orange as the sun either began or ended its journey through the sky. Judging by the part of the shore shown, he figured it was the sunrise. Surrounding the beaches of the lake were trees, sparser than the thickly huddled trees of the Everfree.

Applebloom nodded proudly. “Eeyup, an’ y’all can see Paradise woods ‘round it, but that ain’t all.” She looked around for a moment before lowering her head and in a whisper said, “Big Macintosh told me about the legend of Big Hoof.”

“Big Hoof?” The rest of the Cutie Mark Crusaders asked in unison, matching Applebloom’s whisper, leaning their own heads in. The two were deathly quiet as they waited for the farmfilly to go on.

Big Macintosh just couldn’t resist. He lowered his own head down just above Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo and in his deepest, darkest voice said, “Big Hoof.”

With a yelp the pair leapt into the air. They whirled about to face him alongside a giggling Applebloom.

“Some ponies say,” Big Macintosh continued, leaning towards the three with a small smirk, “that he’s a crazy ol’ hermit that eats little fillies that’re unlucky enough ta find his home.” He took a large bite of the air for emphasis, and his smile grew as his audience, sans Applebloom, took a step back.

“Other ponies say he’s a cavepony from millions of years ago, some sorta relic of the past from a time when ponies ate meat, an’ he roams Paradise Woods lookin’ for his next meal. Either way, he’s a huge pony bigger than any other pony in Equestria.”

“How big is he?” Scootaloo asked quietly.

“Ya know how much bigger Ah am compared to ya’ll?”

They nodded.

“That’s how big he is compared ta me.”

“That’s huge!” Scootaloo said.

“Eeyup, that’s why Paradise Loch ain’t the safest place for youngin’s,” he said with a chuckle.

“He sounds scary,” Sweetie Belle whispered.

“Eeyup,” Big Macintosh whispered back.

“An’ Ah’m gonna find ‘im an’ catch ‘im. Imagine the kind of cutie mark Ah’ll get for that!” Applebloom exclaimed, startling the two beside her.

“How?” Scootaloo asked. “Big Hoof is enormous, there’s no way you can catch him by yourself.”

“That’s why Big Macintosh is gonna help me,” Applebloom said proudly.

“But he’s bigger than even your big brother,” Sweetie Belle said.

“So? Don’t mean Mac’s not stronger an’ tougher, right big brother?”

“Eeyup,” he said with a smile.

“That’s so cool, I wish I was going,” Scootaloo said, and for Big Macintosh time seemed to stand still for a moment. He knew exactly where the conversation was headed as soon as those words left her.

“Hey that’s a great idea!” Applebloom exclaimed. “Then we could try to get our cutie marks together.”

“Now hold on there, sugarcube,” Applejack interrupted, turning to the Cutie Mark Crusaders. “This is Big Macintosh’s campin’ trip. If you two wanna go yer gonna have ta ask him.”

Macintosh wished she hadn’t said. As soon as she did the three fillies darted up to him and gave him that look. That look that could turn any stallion into a blubbering mess. Thankfully, Big Macintosh was made of tougher stuff and managed to keep his composure, though he had to place a hoof in front of his mouth to keep any embarrassing sounds contained.

“Well, uh, ya see,” he stuttered beneath the weight of their pleading eyes. “Ah was kinda hopin’ that…” he couldn’t go on.

The Cutie Mark Crusaders didn’t even have to say a thing and only continued to gaze at him. He knew they wouldn’t stop until he said yes, and as much as he hated to admit it their strategy was working. He wanted the camping trip to be just his sisters and himself, but the more he thought about it the more he didn’t mind having a couple more foals along for the trip. Heck it might even be fun hunting Big Hoof with them, teaching them new things, and telling ghost stories around the fire. Sure it would mean that Applebloom’s time would be taken mostly by her friends, but at least he would be a part of it somehow.

“A’right, y’all can come so long as it’s okay with yer parents,” he said.

The three let out a collective cheer. “Yay! Cutie Mark Crusaders Monster Hunters!” Without so much as another word they charged out of the barn, presumably to ask for permission to go, though why Applebloom went with them Big Macintosh couldn’t be sure. He didn’t have time to contemplate it much before Applejack’s subdued laughter caught his ears.

“Ya always could tell a tall tale, Mac.” She said as she came to stand next to her older brother, watching the three girls blaze a trail towards Ponyville. “An’ ya always were pretty soft when a filly gives ya the ol’ quiverin’ lip,” she added.

“Ah’m not,” he denied, but he knew it was a bold faced lie. As if to prove it, Applejack looked at her brother with the same eyes and shaking lip that Applebloom and her friends had given him mere seconds ago. He laughed it off as he swung a foreleg around her neck in a headlock.

“Sorry sugarcube but Ah built up an immunity ta yers,” he said with a laugh as Applejack struggled to free herself. She managed to slip through his grasp and countered with a playful bite on his ear, bringing his head down as she reared up and brought her front legs down on his neck in an effort to push him to the ground.

Mac only smiled, abruptly brought his neck down and, with a quick jerk that freed his ear from her teeth, rolled his little sister over his neck and onto the flat of her back on the straw. Applejack just laughed and swatted at her brother’s chin. He took it all in stride with a soft smile.

“Ya know better than ta take on yer older brother,” he teased, bringing his head down to roll her over and bring her up to a standing position. She regained her balance with a few wobbly steps and retrieved her hat from the ground to place back on her head.

“Just you wait ‘til Ah get my lasso, ya ol’ snakebite,” Applejack said with a smile.

Big Macintosh chuckled as we went up to nuzzle his sister’s cheek. “Ah can’t wait ta go campin’,” he said quietly.

“Me neither,” Applejack said with a laugh. “Guess yer almost all healed up, ain’t ya?”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac answered, rolling his shoulders. “Ain’t too long ‘til Ah’m good enough ta get back ta work.”

“Are ya…gonna do as much work as before?” Applejack asked, walking away from her older brother and towards the book Applebloom left on the ground.

“Course Ah am,” Big Macintosh said with a confident smile. “There’s lotsa work ta be done ‘round the farm, ‘specially since Ah’ve been gone for so long. Might even have more work than ever,” he said, his smile growing bigger.

Applejack didn’t seem to share his enthusiasm, only nodding, her ears pinned and not really paying him anymore attention. Instead she went to the open book, closed it, and placed it on a high shelf far away from the threat of sawdust, straw, and hoofsteps.

“C’mon let’s...” she paused for a moment to take a sideways glance towards the apple cart, her eyes glazed over as they looked at something far in the distance, “get back to work.”

With that, the siblings went back to assembling the wagon in silence. Every once in a while Applejack would speak, but only to order her older brother to pick up a plank, attach a screw, or bore a hole. Big Macintosh tried to start a conversation and asked things like how the trees were doing or how work had been the past few days, but every time she only replied with a quick ‘fine’ or ‘good’. It was hard for the stallion to miss the sudden change of mood. Mac questioned whether or not he should confront her about it. Knowing Applejack she’d just stubbornly tell him nothing was wrong and then he’d have to suffer her liar’s face, which would make him laugh and that would just make things worse. So he just stopped asking questions.

A few hours of lifting and drilling later and the cart stood halfway built by the time three familiar fillies finally came back to the barn.

“They said yes!” Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle shouted as soon as they were within earshot of the stallion, Applebloom following at their heels.

Big Macintosh dropped the plank he was holding and came up in front of the two fillies. They were all smiles as he started listing what they would have to bring to the camping trip. “A’right, yer gonna need ta gather up yer gear. A sleepin’ bag, some blankets and pillows, an’ a tent. Now Ah think we got one big enough for you three ta share so don’t worry ‘bout that.”

“How many blankets should we bring?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Night gets pretty cold out on Paradise Loch even durin’ this time of year. The way Ah see it, it’s better ta have too many than not enough. Ah’d bring every blanket ya could pilfer from yer sister, and if she gives ya any trouble tell ‘er Ah told ya she had a huge heart and it’d be pretty awful if she proved me wrong,” Big Macintosh said with a wink.

Sweetie Belle giggled. “Great, we’ll get started right now,” she said as she turned towards her friends, who nodded in agreement. Before they could dash out of the barn, Applejack called for them.

“Now hold on! Ya got the next couple of days ta gather everythin’ up. If y’all wanna go ya need ta help us fix up this wagon.”

The three let out a collective groan. “Do we have to?” said Applebloom, pleading with her sister.

“Eeyup,” Applejack said. “C’mon now, a little work ain’t gonna kill ya.”

-*-

While the work didn’t kill them, it sure did exhaust them as it dragged on through the afternoon and into the night.

By the time the wagon was completely assembled Applebloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle had all fallen asleep, bundled together on a mound of straw. Macintosh and Applejack smiled down at the tiny pony pile.

“Sorta reminds me of when ya first started workin’ on the farm,” Macintosh said.

“Yeah, Ah remember ya used ta pick me up on yer back and tuck me in for bed,” Applejack said with a smile, but it quickly faded, “Seems like forever ago. Take Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle home, will ya? Ah’ll get Applebloom.”

Applejack grabbed her little sister by the scruff of her neck and carried her out of the barn and into the farmhouse. Macintosh watched his two sisters walk away before looking back at the two still sleeping. He grabbed them and gently placed them on his back. They shuffled a bit as their slumber was disturbed but remained asleep. With a smile, the eldest Apple sibling exited the barn into the warm night.

The trip into Ponyville was uneventful, thankfully. The last thing he wanted was for something to stir the two fillies awake. After dropping off Scootaloo and talking to her parents for a bit about the camping trip, Big Mac made his way towards the Carousel Boutique. On the way, he could feel Sweetie Belle start to fidget.

“Big Macintosh?” she asked with a yawn.

“Hey sugarcube,” he said softly, “Ah’m takin’ ya back home, shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“Okay,” Sweetie Belle said with another yawn. She paused briefly. “Big Macintosh?”

“Eeyup?”

“If you and Rarity got married, would that mean me and Applebloom would be sisters?” she asked casually, as though she didn’t realize the weight those words carried. Big Macintosh had to bring a hoof to his mouth to stifle the laughter threatening to burst out of him. He didn’t want Sweetie Belle to think he was making fun of her. With that said, he couldn’t help but smile at her naiveté. Only once his laughter calmed a bit did he risk answering her. He cleared his throat and spoke slowly.

“Where’d ya get that idea?” he asked.

“I was talking to Applebloom about how great it would be to have an older brother, and she said that if you and Rarity got married then you would be my older brother. Is it true?” Sweetie asked.

“Ah s’pose it would, but...” he began, though quickly stopped. Suddenly an opportunity to get back at Rarity for all her flirtations presented itself. How could he pass it up? “...but Ah don’t know for sure,” he continued. “Maybe we should ask yer older sister, Ah’m sure she’ll know.”

“Good idea!” Sweetie Belle said, her drowsiness abating only a moment before she started to yawn and lay back down on Macintosh.

“But why would ya want an older brother? Seems like havin’ Rarity as a sibling would be trouble enough,” Big Macintosh said.

“Yeah,” she said softly, “but having an older brother would mean I get to do stuff with him. Like building things and going camping. Rarity would never do that.”

Big Mac laughed. “That’s true Ah s’pose, but family’s one of those things that ain’t always mean the same thing to ponies. Ah know Applejack sees her friends, includin’ Rarity, as family. With all the times they’ve helped us out ya might catch me callin’ them the same on a good day. In the same way Ah gotta think that Applebloom thinks of you and Scootaloo as family, so Ah think, in a weird sorta way, that makes us kinda related.”

Sweetie Belle took a moment to grasp what he said. When it finally made sense to her she wrapped her forelegs around his neck in a hug. “Thanks Big Macintosh.”

Mac nodded as the Carousel Boutique came into view. Its windows were lit brightly, like a beacon in the early night. Other buildings began to follow suit, and Ponyville was bathed in the soft glow of its homes. Sadly, the light also dimmed the stars above. Big Macintosh couldn’t wait to get back to the farm where the light couldn’t reach and the stars shined more intensely than any streetlamp. He indulged in the idle thought as he walked up to the door of the shop to knock.

The door opened to reveal Rarity on the other side. Her mane looked immaculate despite the late hour, though she couldn’t hide the slight bags beneath her eyes. She looked at the stallion for a moment, confused until she saw her sister on his back.

“Oh hello, Macintosh,” she said as Sweetie Belle hopped off Big Macintosh’s back and walked towards her sister. “Sweetie Belle, you’re dirty!” Rarity added with a scoff.

“I was helping Applebloom fix her family’s applecart for the camping trip,” she said.

Rarity sighed. “Well I suppose that can’t be helped. Come inside, and you too Macintosh. I’d like to speak with you.” Big Macintosh looked at her for a second, and she merely nodded her head in response. With a bit of a shrug, he followed Rarity and Sweetie Belle inside.

The smell of perfume wasn’t as strong as the last time he had been in the Boutique, and the mess of fabrics had been cleaned and put away. In the later hours the unicorn’s home seemed almost…normal. Besides the mannequins draped in fine clothing, the interior felt less as if a fashion designer lived there. A mare with fine tastes, yes, but not a fashion designer.

“Go upstairs, take a bath, and get to bed,” Rarity told her sister as soon as they were inside.

“But I’m not sleepy,” Sweetie Belle insisted.

“Go. Mother and Father are coming to pick you up early tomorrow morning and I don’t want a fight to get you out of bed,” Rarity countered, and her firm tone and eyes caused Sweetie Belle to hang her head and go towards the stairs.

“Rarity, can I ask you something first?” she asked, looking back over her shoulder.

“What is it?”

“If you and Big Macintosh got married, would that mean me and Applebloom would be sisters?”

Big Macintosh had never seen such a pure shade of white turn such a deep shade of red so quickly. Rarity’s eyes darted between her little sister and the red stallion. “Well, um, how should I put this?,” she stuttered. Finally she closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm the red tinge on her cheeks. “Well yes, Sweetie Belle, but a lot has to happen before Macintosh and I get…married. We would have to go on several dates, have a first kiss-“

“Ain’t no time like the present,” Big Mac said slyly as he brought his cheek to nestle against hers. It became difficult to tell where one red cheek ended and another red cheek began. Rarity stood paralyzed by the sudden contact, not even maintaining the mental capacity to step away.

Big Mac knew it was time to go in for the kill. “So how ‘bout a little sugar?” he asked in his deepest, softest voice, in as warm a timbre as he could muster.

“M-Macintosh…” Rarity stammered.

“Yay! Me and Applebloom are going to be sisters!” Sweetie Belle cheered as she ran up the stairs. “I’ll get to bed as soon as possible so I can tell her in the morning.” She disappeared to the top floor leaving the two adults alone.

As soon as the filly was gone Rarity turned around and gave Macintosh a quick hoof to his cheek for his trouble. It didn’t have much force behind it. In fact, if he didn’t know any better he’d say it was a playful slap. He smiled as he rubbed his cheek in imagined pain as Rarity shot him a glare.

“Macintosh what is wrong with you?” she said in a harsh whisper as if still afraid Sweetie Belle might hear them.

“Why whatever do ya mean, Miss Rarity?” he asked innocently.

“I mean flirting with me like that in front of Sweetie Belle! Now I have to convince her that we’re not…together,” she said.

“Flirting?” Big Macintosh asked as he approached the mare, brought his nose to touch hers, and in that same basso tone said, “Ah thought ya said Ah wasn’t the flirty type.” Big Macintosh smiled as her cheeks turned crimson again. But she quickly regained her footing and a mischievous grin spread across her flushed face. She brought a hoof to stroke the crook of his neck right beneath his chin and pressed her nose more firmly against his.

“Oh Macintosh, if only you knew. This is foal’s play compared to what I have in store for you,” she said in her most breathy voice.

“Ah’d like ta see that,” Macintosh said with a smirk, not backing down from her little challenge.

“You will, but right now I’d like to talk to you about the camping trip you’re taking Sweetie Belle and her friends on,” Rarity said, turning around toward the kitchen. As she did the end of her tail flicked against Macintosh’s nose, undoubtedly on purpose. “Would you like some coffee?” she asked.

“Eeyup. Black with a pinch of salt if ya don’t mind,” he said.

Rarity looked back at him. “Salt?”

He nodded, and she took a moment to wonder at his preference before heading into her kitchen. She came back with two mugs levitating in front of her. She placed them down on the table and the two sat and sipped their drinks in silence for a few minutes.

“You should have seen Sweetie Belle charge in here asking if she could go,” Rarity finally said. “She insisted that we go to our parents at that very moment, and would simply not wait for them to pick her up. I offered to tell you they said yes so that Sweetie could stay with them, but she wanted to tell you herself.” Rarity smiled, and all he could do was return it.

“Now Macintosh, please understand that my request is in no way meant to question you or your sister’s ability to care for my sister,” she continued, and Macintosh merely looked at her curiously as he took a sip from his coffee, “but I would like to join your camping trip.”

Big Mac almost gagged on his coffee, but managed to swallow both his drink and his surprise. After a few coughs he placed his mug on the table and cleared his throat. “Miss Rarity ya know what campin’ is, right?” he asked.

Rarity scoffed, “Of course I do. Honestly Macintosh, I may enjoy the finer things in life but that doesn’t mean I’m some ninny. I’ll have you know that my family went camping regularly when I was a filly.”

Macintosh didn’t quite believe her, but he had no real reason to doubt her either. Quietly, he took another sip of coffee and stared into his mug for a few seconds.

“Well?” Rarity asked.

“Nnope,” he said, keeping the annoyance of his interrupted thoughts out of his voice.

“What? Why?” she asked, shocked.

“It’s just that,” he paused to choose his words carefully, “Ah really wanted this trip to be just my sisters-“

“Then why did you invite mine?” Rarity cut in.

“Ah…,” he trailed off.

“Oh I know what happened,” she said with a sly smile, going around the table to face Macintosh without any obstacles between them. “She gave you that look and you just couldn’t say no.”

Big Macintosh sighed and simply nodded, his eyes drawn to the floor.

Rarity chuckled. “What makes you think I won’t just do the same? You know what’s going to happen. I bat my eyelashes and you say yes, so we might as well drop all pretense.”

“Not this time,” he said. “Miss Rarity, this trip is really important ta me. The only reason Ah invited Sweetie Belle an’ Scootaloo was ‘cause they asked and Ah didn’t think havin’ them along would stop me from spendin’ time with my sisters.”

“Come now, Macintosh,” she said. “I’m sure there will still be plenty of time on the camping trip for you to bond with Applejack and Applebloom with me there.”

Big Mac stared at his mug. It was a good point. After all, they would be out there for two whole days. Still he hesitated. He very much wanted the trip to be as small as possible, but there was another reason he didn’t want her to come along.

He felt that reason in the form of Rarity’s gentle hoof caressing his chin before raising his head to face her. The soft pressure of her nose pressing against his followed soon after. He closed his eyes, not daring to look at hers.

“Open your eyes, Macintosh,” she breathed. He smelled mint.

His eyes remained firmly shut, and he felt relief as the pressure on his nose subsided. The respite didn’t last long before his muscles tensed as Rarity’s forelegs wrapped around his neck.

“Macintosh,” she said again, and he could feel her lips move lightly against his own. The farmpony’s eyes shot open to see Rarity giving him a smile. An impish little smirk that made him seriously reconsider his friendship with her. “I told you,” she said, stepping forward so her mouth was right by his ear, “this is all foal’s play.”

He gulped.

“May I come along?” she asked.

A few seconds passed as Macintosh tried to find his thoughts. “Seems like a lotta trouble just ta go on somethin’ ya’ll probably hate,” he said.

“I have my reasons,” Rarity said. She removed her forelegs, took a step back to face him, and gave him a heavy-lidded gaze that made him unwilling to know those reasons. Instead, his eyes looked away to a corner of the room.

“A’right Miss Rarity, ya can come along,” he said, trying to ignore the pain of saying it. He didn’t give Rarity a chance to speak and continued, wanting to get everything out of his mouth as if the words were an intrusive bug. “Yer gonna need blankets, as many as you can bring and then some, a sleeping bag an’ a tent. Just meet us at the Acres before dawn the day after tomorrow and we’ll head out for Paradise Loch.”

“Excellent,” Rarity said. She returned her hoof beneath his chin and brought her nose back to his. With a roll of his eyes he broke away from the contact and headed for the door.

“Goodnight, Macintosh,” Rarity called after him. “I’ll make sure to bring a sleeping bag big enough for both of us.” It was enough to get the farmpony’s cheeks burning as he stepped out into the night. He only grunted in response, unable to form words, and left with Rarity’s giggles following behind him.

The night air did little to cool his face as he plodded back towards Sweet Apple Acres. His thoughts ran unrestrained. Was he really that easy to control? His baby sister, her friends, and Rarity sure made it seem that way. Then again, his reaction to a cute face really was nothing new. However, if he were to compare the two instances he could definitely see a contrast.

When Applebloom and her friends gave him the look his heart melted because of how cute they were. It was the same for Applejack, her friends (minus one), and pretty much every other mare in Ponyville.

What Rarity did was a whole other beast entirely. Macintosh would never call her, or what she did, cute. A better word would be alluring. He was putty in her hooves, and he hated it. Worse yet was that it seemed to be getting worse. When he first met her, or at least first spent time with her, he could offer some resistance against her flirting. Now he could hardly keep his mind focused. She wasn’t playing when she said she would take her flirtations to the next level, it seemed. He shook his head clear of the thoughts. He supposed Rarity just had that effect on stallions.

Besides, none of that really mattered. The fact remained that Big Macintosh invited three extra ponies that were not his family to come along on his family camping trip. However, there really was no point in whining about it, was there? It had been done, now all he could do was make the best of it.

He made his way down the path, all the while thinking that getting back at Rarity might not have been worth the resulting trouble.

-*-

The next day Big Macintosh was awake bright and early in the barn, alone, since Applejack and Applebloom were gathering up the camping gear. A can of wood sealant rested on a barrel. He dipped a paintbrush into it and began applying the thick liquid to the applecart. The smell of the sealant hung heavily in the air along with the scent of sugar and vanilla. Big Macintosh, of course, already took the necessary precautions. The barn doors were wide open to provide ventilation, every lantern and other heat source was safely turned off, and the straw was swept to the far corners of the barn. The sealant was highly flammable and any spark could set off the volatile vapors and, while he would no doubt enjoy rebuilding the farmhouse and barn, he rather not risk a fire at Sweet Apple Acres.

So the purple unicorn and baby dragon weren’t exactly the most ideal visitors.

“Hey Mac, can I talk to you?” Spike asked as he and Twilight Sparkle approached him. “Oh jeeze, what’s that smell?” he said, taking a sniff of the air. The fumes got into his nose and suddenly the dragon took in deep breaths as he prepared for a sneeze. Big Macintosh didn’t think anything of it until he remembered what accompanied a dragon’s sneeze.

His fears were unfounded as Twilight placed a hoof on his nose, averting disaster. She removed her hoof and turned to Mac, “Maybe we should go outside.”

Macintosh nodded. He placed his brush back in the can and followed the other two out into the heat of early summer. The noon sun hung in the air and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the apple trees. It felt good to get out of the noxious fumes, and every step he took away from the barn eased the headache that had developed as a result of breathing them for so long. Once the the trio were deep into the apple orchard he took several deep breaths to get the smell of apples in his nose.

“Now what is it ya wanna talk ta me about?” he asked.

“Oh,” Spike said, suddenly remembering his original intent. “Uh,” he paused to look at Twilight, who nodded her encouragement. “It’s about the camping trip. I was wondering if I could, you know, tag along.”

Big Macintosh looked at the baby dragon, wondering at the request. It wasn’t as if he was good friends with Spike, merely an acquaintance really. So he couldn’t help but ask, “Why?”

“Uh,” Spike looked at his feet and kicked up some dirt. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Macintosh looked back and forth between him and Twilight. “Eeyup.”

“Promise not to tell anypony?” Spike asked.

“Eeyup.”

“Pinkie Promise?”

Big Macintosh grunted in annoyance. “My word should be enough for ya, but if ya insist,” he said, raising a hoof in the air to perform the rhyme. He soon realized, though, that he didn’t know exactly how to perform it.

“Pinkie, how’s a Pinkie Promise go?” he asked, seemingly into the air.

“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye. That’s a Pinkie Promise!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed as she appeared with a bounce next to the stallion. “And while you say it you have to do this with your hooves,” Pinkie continued as she performed the necessary motions and waves while Big Macintosh followed along. Once he was sure he had it committed to memory he turned to Spike.

“Cross my heart, hope ta fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” Macintosh said before a sudden thought came to him and he looked at Pinkie. “Whaddya do if a pegasus is makin’ a promise?” he asked.

“Actually,” Twilight said, “I’ve been wondering about that myself.”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get there,” Pinkie answered the two with a cryptic smile.

“Okay,” Spike said, eager to get back to his question. “Anyway, my secret is that I…have a crush on Rarity.”

Big Macintosh just stared at the dragon. Truthfully, he already knew. After all, Spike having a crush on Rarity was about as much a secret as his Smartypants doll (unfortunately), but what did Spike’s crush have to do with his camping trip? The answer became obvious as he remembered who else was coming along.

“So ya wanna use the trip as a way ta impress Miss Rarity?” Big Macintosh asked.

“Yeah, exactly!” Spike said. “So how about it? Can I come along?”

This trip was threatening to get bigger and bigger by the second. “The thing is Spike,” Macintosh began, “Ah was hopin’ it’d be just me an’ my sisters, but Applebloom invited her friends an’ the only reason Rarity’s goin’ is ‘cause Sweetie Belle’s comin’ along. Sorry, but Ah gotta say no.”

“Please Big Mac,” Spike said, stepping towards the stallion. “This might be my best chance to show Rarity how perfect we are for each other.”

“Yeah Macky,” Pinkie butted in. “It might be his best chance!”

“Ah’m sorry but the answer’s still-“

“Please please please,” Spike said, falling to his knees. “I’m begging you, Mac. I’m on my knees and I’m begging you to help give true love a chance.”

“He’s on his knees, Macky! He’s on his knees and he’s begging! True love! Give it a chance!”

Macintosh glared at Pinkie Pie, and her only response was a carefree grin. He rubbed his temple, trying his best to get rid of his sudden headache. Both of them. They soon vanished, however, when he suddenly realized something. If Spike spent most of his time and attention on Rarity, then maybe Rarity would do the same with Spike. A smile formed on his lips.

“A’right, ya can come along so long as it’s okay with Twilight.” Both he and Spike looked at the librarian.

She smiled. “Of course it’s alright with me.”

“Great! I’ll get packed right away.” The little dragon ran off towards town. Big Macintosh just watched him go for a while before realizing that Pinkie and Twilight were still standing around him. He turned so that they were both in his line of sight.

“That was a nice thing you did for him,” Twilight said.

“Ah didn’t do it for him.”

“Oh,” Twilight said. An awkward silence started to develop, and she quickly spoke to mitigate it. “So why-“

“Don’t ask,” he said curtly.

“O-okay,” Twilight said, taking a step back with her ears pinned. She looked over at Pinkie, but she just had a smile like always. “So,” she began again, “what should we bring?”

Macintosh raised an eyebrow. “We?”

“Me and Spike,” she said. “What should we bring?”

“But Ah didn’t invite you.”

Twilight stared at him for a few moments. “You invited Spike. I’m responsible for him. I have to go and watch over him.”

That headache was starting to come back. She had a point, but he very much wish she didn’t. “A’right, but if yer comin’ too then Ah might as well put ya to work. Can ya coordinate the supplies for the trip? Ah’m sure you, my sister, and Rarity’ll wanna share tents an’ stuff like that.”

“Yeah, I can do that,” Twilight said. “So what’s on the list of supplies?”

“Just sleeping bags, a few tents, and a lot of blankets, as many as you can bring and then some. Nights at Paradise Loch get really dang cold.”

“What about food?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout that. The Apple family’s got plenty,” Macintosh said.

“Great,” Twilight said. Her mouth opened to say something more, but the words hesitated. She looked over at Pinkie Pie, bouncing beside Macintosh without any rhyme or reason. She turned back to the workpony and asked, “Have you talked with Fluttershy at all this past week?”

“Nnope,” he answered.

She nodded. “She’s been feeling a bit down about, well,” she paused again, “the bird. So I was hoping you could invite her along too. Camping might get her mind off of it.”

“Ah’m sorry, Miss Sparkle, but-”

“Please Mac,” Twilight interrupted. “It would mean a lot to me.”

Big Macintosh looked at her, fighting the urge to sigh and roll his eyes. “Fine, Ah guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Thank you so much,” she said.

“Eeyup. Ah suppose ya wanna go back home an’ pack, so Ah won’t keep ya,” he said quickly, turning back towards the barn and talking as he walked away. “We leave before sunrise tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

If she said anything, he didn’t hear, the distance between the two already proved too great. The only thing he did hear was Pinkie Pie bouncing happily beside him.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” she asked.

He ignored her.

“Macky?”

Even as he went back inside the barn he ignored her.

“Can’t you hear me?”

As he retrieved his paintbrush from the can of sealant, he ignored her.

“Have you gone deaf?”

He ignored her as he started painting the wood.

“Hey, over here! I’m talking!”

And he ignored her when he went to fetch a new can of sealant after the old one ran out.

It was only when the endless poking began and the exterior of the wagon had been completely painted did he take a very deep breath, ignoring the fumes, and forced himself to calm down. It wasn’t Pinkie’s fault that his family trip had tripled in size in as little time as twenty-four hours. It was his.

Nevertheless, Macintosh was not in the mood to try and carry on a conversation with her. He wasn’t even in the right mind to just let her ramble on and on as she was prone to. All he wanted was a little peace and quiet to ponder his own thoughts, but Pinkie wasn’t stopping any time soon. With a weary frown he placed the paintbrush back into the sealant and turned towards her.

“What is it, Pinkie?” he asked, forcing his voice to steady, forcing a smile to grace his face.

Pinkie grinned and stopped poking him, glad that he finally acknowledged her. With a bounce she asked, “Can I come camping too?”

“No,” he said simply.

“Aww, why not?”

Big Macintosh bit his tongue, afraid that he might start saying things he might regret. Had she not been listening when he explained this to Spike and Twilight? “Because I want this trip to be just me…and…my…” he trailed off as he realized how pitiful the reason had become. It didn’t matter at all anymore. What was the point in excluding her when his family trip was no longer his family trip? He had given it all away along with his damn invitations, and now it just felt as if he was tagging along with his sisters and their friends on their camping trip.

“You can come along.” The words were limp with defeat and only half-spoken. Pinkie didn’t notice and simply bounced and cheered and thanked him and said how much fun she was going to have, but he didn’t pay any attention to her. Even when she bounced her way back to Ponyville with that face-splitting grin, he wasn’t paying attention. Instead, he just grabbed the paintbrush again and started spreading sealant on the wagon. To start the next coat, even if the first hadn’t even begun to dry.

The second can soon emptied, and he went to fetch a third only to find that there were none left. He gazed at the empty shelf where the Apple family kept the wood sealant. It took a few moments for him to comprehend that the work was finished.

He twisted his neck with a satisfying crack and exited the barn. The sun was low in the sky. It wouldn’t be long now, a few short hours, until they would head out to Paradise Loch. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad having everyone else along. Heck, maybe there was still a chance that everything would work out, and he could spend time with his sisters despite the intrusions.

He found a nice, shady tree to lie under and rested beneath its leaves. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before letting go of the breath in a long sigh that took all the tension out of his muscles. It was a waste of time. With a flap of wings and a weight on his back, all that tension returned in full force.

“You know what sounds like fun, Mac?” Rainbow Dash asked.

Big Macintosh didn’t even open his eyes.“Greetin’ friends with a hello? Ya know, like asking if they’re doin’ a’right,” he said.

“No, not that.”

“Takin’ a nap under an apple tree?” he asked.

“Well yeah, but I was thinking more about camping with friends,” Rainbow Dash said, and he could feel her shuffle around until he felt her back pressing on his own.

“Eeyup, too bad no one’s takin’ a big campin’ trip this weekend,” he said.

“Oh c’mon Mac,” Rainbow said as she rolled over to stand on him. She crept up towards his neck until her forelegs stood on the top of his head. Leaning against them, she lowered her head and bent her neck until her forelock pressed against his nose allowing the two ponies to see eye to eye, even if one pair was closed. “You invited pretty much everypony else, why not me?”

“Don’t remind me,” Big Macintosh said dryly. The same train of thought that plagued him just before he invited Pinkie came back to him all at once. It only became worse because it was Rainbow Dash he was talking to this time. With the others he had that small glimmer of hope that Applejack would still have free time to spend with him. After all, while she was friends with the other four none were really interested in the kind of things she enjoyed. Things like physical competition and roughhousing. He had hoped he could play and bond with his sister doing all of that. If Rainbow Dash, her best friend, came along then his presence would become obsolete and unneeded. But what could he do? Not invite her when he already invited every other one of her friends? How could he ever justify doing that?

He couldn’t. With his eyes still close he whispered the words that snuffed out whatever enthusiasm he had left for the trip. “A’right, ya can tag along.”

“Great, thanks,” Rainbow said, taking flight for a few happy seconds before landing on his back once again.

“Just make sure ta bring a sleepin’ bag an’ as many blankets as ya can, an’ tell Twilight yer goin’ on the trip. Ah made her in charge of all the gear.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” she said with a sudden yawn. “You know, I’ve been training all day and taking a nap under an apple tree sounds pretty good right now.” She lay down on top of him, a hoof hanging lazily off his side. The two remained in that position for a while until Macintosh spoke up.

“Ain’t ya got somethin’ ta do,” he asked.

“I’m doing it right now,” she said sluggishly before yawning again. Her breathing became calm and rhythmic soon after.

He finally opened his eyes to look at the grass beneath him. He considered bucking her off, but it wasn’t like there was anything he had to do. The applecart was finished, Applejack already took care of the farm work, and the camping gear was already gathered by now. What else could he do but be a mattress? He idly raised a hoof and crushed some grass beneath it, twisting it back and forth until every blade of green became uprooted. Macintosh stared at the bare patch of dirt and slowly closed his eyes once more.

The sun had set and night came to the sky when he finally heard Rainbow Dash wake up and fly off with some parting words he didn’t care to hear. He stood up and silently made his way to the farmhouse. All he wanted to do now was get some damn sleep.

-*-

Early morning came quickly and Macintosh actually felt…better. He didn’t know whether it was because he actually had work to do or because of a good night’s sleep, but he really didn’t care. All he knew was that he felt optimistic about the camping trip. He might even say he was looking forward to it. After all, what could be better than returning to Paradise Loch? It was where he had the best memories of his foalhood, and he hadn’t been there since before he got his cutie mark.

Big Macintosh wheeled the cart outside the barn and looked back at the pile of sleeping bags, blankets, food, water, and other supplies stacked by the barn’s doors. He unhitched himself and contemplated the gear for a few moments.

The first thing he placed inside the wagon were six large sacks, each one almost as big as him, filled with gravel and rocks. He hid these sacks with the rest of the gear. Not that he really needed to, the bags blended with the rest of the supplies, but he liked to be extra cautious when he was trying to pull the wool over Applejack’s eyes.

As he placed his sleeping bag (the last of the gear) inside, he saw Applejack coming towards him with a sleeping Applebloom on her back. She placed the sleeping foal on the soft grass beside the wagon and turned towards Big Macintosh.

“Ah gotta tell ya, Ah’m a bit surprised ya invited all my friends,” she said.

He forced himself to chuckle. “Eeyup.”

“Twilight told me they were all meetin’ up at the library so they can come down to the farm as a group.”

Mac nodded, staring off into the distance. No sooner had Applejack spoken when he saw eight silhouettes in the far distance, five ponies, two foals, and a dragon. His eyes followed them as they came closer and closer, but he soon became irritated with how slow they were going. They were walking at a snails pace. With a sigh and a quick trot, he managed to cover the distance and meet them on the path.

They all looked at him as he approached. Pinkie Pie flailed her forelegs in greeting while Twilight and Rarity greeted him with a quick hello. Fluttershy, meanwhile, stayed towards the back along with Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, and Spike. Various duffel bags, rolled-up sleeping bags, satchels, and tents were levitating in the air, carried by Twilight and Rarity’s magic.

Rainbow Dash was the first to approach him. “Hey what’s up?” she asked.

“Ah never would’ve guessed that the fastest pegasus in Equestria could be so dang slow,” he said, and he waited for her to start yelling. Instead, to his surprise, all he got was a playful smirk from her.

“Think you can do better?” she asked.

Now he understood. Truthfully, he wasn’t really aching for a race. He was about to tell her so when his eyes caught the levitating baggage once again. An idea came to him, and he smiled. Maybe a little payback at Dash was in order for treating him like a bed. “Eeyup.”

“Then let’s race and find out,” Rainbow said as she crouched, ready to take off at a moment’s notice, “On three one two-“

“Hold yerself there, Dash,” Mac said before she could blast away. “We gotta make it fair.” He made his way towards the rest of the group. “Might Ah ease yer burden, ladies?” he asked in his most polite tone, turning about to offer his back to them.

“That’s okay, Macintosh,” Twilight said. “We’re fine.”

“That’s right, sweetie,” Rarity added, “it’s really no trouble.”

“C’mon Mac, are we gonna race or what?” Rainbow said, still standing by the imaginary starting line.

He smiled yet still ignored her. “Ah insist,” he said. “Besides, the extra weight’ll give Rainbow a fair chance ta win.”

“Oh I get it,” the fastest pegasus in Equestria said. She walked to stand beside him and mimicked his stance, her back facing Rarity and Twilight. “Give me stuff to carry too,” she told them. “And make sure you give me as much as him.”

“Um, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Fluttershy squeaked from the back.

“Yeah Rainbow,” Twilight said, “You can’t-“

“I’ll be fine,” Dash said with a confident smirk. “I don’t want to give him a reason to lose.”

“Well, if you insist,” Rarity said.

Big Macintosh felt half of the supplies float down onto his back. His body buckled a bit as the weight came free of magic. He quickly straightened himself. Rainbow Dash had a bit of a harder time with her half of the gear, her smaller frame necessitating a higher pile that put most of the weight at the middle of her back.

The two racers walked back to the invisible starting line. Rainbow crouched down slowly, trying her best to get low without the weight dropping her completely to the ground. Mac, meanwhile, remained motionless.

“Oh, oh. I’ll count,” Pinkie said as she hopped in front of the two and into the narrow space between the racers. She started counting, punctuating each number with a bounce. “One for the bits.”

“Go Rainbow Dash!” Scootaloo cheered.

“Two for the show.”

“You can do it, Big Macintosh!” Sweetie Belle shouted.

“Three for some third thing I forgot.”

“Shouldn’t you be crouching or something to get ready, Big Mac?” Spike asked.

“And go! Go! Go!”

Rainbow Dash kept to her name as she blasted forward with a multi-colored trail following behind her. Macintosh just smiled as he saw all the supplies she was carrying fall to the floor with a soft thud as if they were levitating in the air moments before.

“Uh, go?” Pinkie said with her head tilted in confusion.

Macintosh simply turned to Twilight Sparkle and nodded towards the bags on the floor, “Ya mind?”

She got his meaning and levitated the other half of supplies and placed them on his back.

“Much obliged,” he said. “Now c’mon, all of ya. Ah want ta head out before the sun rises, so we only got about half an hour.”

Big Macintosh made his way down the path at a gentle trot, mindful of the burden on his back. The others followed along and carried out some conversation on the way. Mac was content with simply listening to Pinkie Pie tell Fluttershy and Rarity all about her new apple pie recipe while Scootaloo told Spike and Twilight about the legend of Big Hoof.

He didn’t notice Sweetie Belle beside him until he felt her tap on his leg. “Big Macintosh?” she asked.

“Eeyup?” he said.

“Why didn’t you run the race? Didn’t you want to win?”

He chuckled. “Ya wanna know a secret, sugarcube?”

Sweetie Belle nodded as she leaned towards him, eager to hear.

“Winnin’ ain’t as fun as annoying, Dash,” he said with a little smirk.

Sweetie Belle giggled. “How are you going to do it?” the little filly asked as the group entered the outskirts of Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack and the wagon soon came into view, standing beside a none-too-pleased Rainbow Dash staring daggers at him. Meanwhile, the other ponies ran ahead to greet Applejack (Scootaloo running up to wake Applebloom).

“What took you so long?” Rainbow Dash asked, coming towards him.

“Ya dropped yer gear,” Macintosh said. He positioned his side against the back of the wagon and tilted his body so the gear slid in. “Ah couldn’t just leave it there for Rarity and Twilight ta carry.”

Rainbow slapped her hoof against her forehead. “You know winning isn’t fun when who you’re going up against isn’t really trying.”

Mac chuckled. “Eeyup.”

She groaned at his answer. “And you know, those two really were fine with carrying the stuff. You didn’t have to show off.”

“Who’s showin’ off?” he said. “It wouldn’t be polite of me if Ah just let them carry it all on their own.”

“Whatever you say,” Rainbow said and with a shake of her head went to join her friends. Big Macintosh shrugged the conversation from his mind and circled the cart, hitching himself to the front. He took a few steps forward and back to test both his strength and the wagon’s wheels. When both seemed strong he took a few more steps.

“Hold on there, big brother,” Applejack said, quickly coming up to him to put a hoof forcefully against his chest. He looked down at it, then at her, and she quickly removed it. “Ya might be feelin’ better, but that ain’t no reason ta go an’ risk gettin’ injured again.”

“Oh, c’mon AJ,” Rainbow Dash said as she walked towards the two. “He’s fine.”

“I have to agree,” Twilight said. “He carried all our supplies, after all.”

“Yeah, but ya better believe I would’ve stopped him if Ah was there.”

“You were there,” Pinkie said.

“That ain’t what Ah-“

“Fine, ya wanna pull it, then pull it,” interrupted Macintosh. He unhitched himself and lowered his head to take his harness off. Without another word he placed the harness around his sister’s neck, her head sinking a bit from the sudden weight. Applejack stared at him with narrowed eyes, suspicious of his sudden compliance. She pushed the thought aside, however, and took Mac’s place in front of the wagon. She trotted in place for a moment and with a small groan pulled forward. Despite her best efforts the wagon stayed firmly in place like a deeply rooted tree.

Big Macintosh watched from the sidelines while his sister tried again and again to move the cart. No matter how many times she tried she got the same results.

“Psh, jeez Applejack I would’ve thought all that extra work would make you stronger,” Rainbow Dash said with a laugh. “Let me try. I bet it’ll be a breeze for me.”

Applejack shot her a glare but complied. Taking off the harness, she handed it to Rainbow who took the farmpony’s place at the front.

Rainbow Dash pulled forward but got the same outcome as her friend. No matter how much she grunted, pulled, and flapped her wings the wagon refused to budge. She looked back at the cart’s wheels, as if making sure they were indeed round, and tried one final attempt. She took off an inch from the ground and tried to bolt forward, but still the cart remained motionless.

Finally, common sense overcame stubbornness and her eyes drifted to Applejack who’s eyes went to her older brother. Big Macintosh tried not to smirk, he really did, but the smugness was plain on his face.

“I guess it’ll be fine just this once,” Applejack said, trying to hide her embarrassment while Rainbow Dash unhitched herself and took off the harness. Neither of the mares made eye contact with him as he retrieved his harness and placed it where it belonged.

Rarity’s airy laughter suddenly broke the silence. “Honestly you two,” she said as she walked to stand beside him, “I know you pride yourselves on your strength, but you have to admit Big Macintosh is probably the strongest pony in Ponyville.”

“Aw heck, Miss Rarity,” Macintosh said, a bit surprised at her words. When he thought about it, he supposed it was all part of her new ‘level’ of flirting. He didn’t think much of it and simply played along. “Ya flatter me.” He smiled at her and she gave him one of her own, and somewhere he heard the sound of Applebloom and Sweetie Belle trying to hold in their giggles.

“Uh, you know I’m pretty strong too,” Spike said, running towards Rarity.

“Of course you are my little Spikey-Wikey,” she said with a smile. Big Macintosh had to stifle a laugh, glad that Rarity didn’t do the same thing with his name. Hopefully his theory would prove true and the two would keep each other out of his mane.

He looked up towards the eastern sky. Already he could see the faint outline of the sun’s upper arc peeking above the mountains. They were burning daylight, and they would need as much as possible. He quickly hitched himself to the wagon and turned towards his sister, catching her gaze.

“ ‘bout time we head off,” he said.

Applejack nodded before facing the group and blowing a shrill whistle that easily caught everyone’s attention. “A’right,” she began, “since this is Mac’s trip Ah’ll let him talk about the details.”

Big Macintosh glared at her, and she just smirked in response. Applejack stepped out of the way, allowing Big Macintosh to feel the full brunt of nine pairs of eyes focused on him. He got rid of his shyness with a couple light stomps of his hoof before speaking to the group.

“It’s a six hour walk ta Paradise Loch, so if we head off now we’ll be there by noon. Anypony gotta go to the bathroom before we hit the road?” Nobody said anything, so with a quick nod Big Mac took the first steps towards the path heading away from Ponyville.

His spirits were high as the rest of the group followed him. Maybe he really didn’t have anything to worry about and the camping trip would be a rousing success for everyone. After all, everything seemed to be going smoothly so far.

He smiled. Maybe by the time the camping trip was over every one of the ten ponies and one dragon would be closer because of it. Including him and his sisters.

-*-

“Oh hey! Let’s sing a camping song!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, bouncing alongside the cart.

“Wouldn’t a traveling song be more fitting?” Rarity asked. “Not that I’m fond of either prospect.”

“Well sure, but I don’t know any. Oh! But I know a campfire song about campfire songs,” Pinkie said with a smile. She didn’t wait for any consensus and went right into belting out the tune at the top of her lungs. The Cutie Mark Crusaders, Spike, and even Fluttershy sang along. As for the rest, well, they just smiled and started on their own conversations beneath the singing.

Soon Rarity trotted up beside him. “Macintosh,” she said in that same tone of voice she always used when she wanted something from him. “You said the walk would be six hours. How many times are we going to rest on the way?”

“None,” Big Mac said.

“What?” Rarity said, dumbfounded. “Macintosh, sweetie, darling, you can’t possibly expect me to walk for six hours without rest.”

“What’s wrong, Rarity? Worried you’ll get sweaty?” Rainbow Dash snickered as she flew above the two and landed beside her friend, cutting a snide smirk at the unicorn.

“Of course not, I’m just concerned for Sweetie Belle’s sake,” Rarity said before turning back to Macintosh. “Can’t we take just a bit of a rest along the way?”

“Nnope,” he said.

Rarity, in her usual fashion, pressed her side against his and in her sweetest voice said, “Please?”

Macintosh didn’t get a chance to say anything before Rainbow jumped into the conversation once again. “Just suck it up, Rarity. No need to beg.”

Rarity shot her a glare. “A lady does not beg, Rainbow.”

“Sounds like begging to me,” Dash countered.

The unicorn flicked her mane with a scoff and raised her chin before falling behind to join the others.

“Ah think ya offended her,” Big Macintosh said.

“Well it’s not like she didn’t have it coming,” Rainbow replied. “It’s annoying when she puts herself all over you like that.”

Macintosh looked at her, a bit surprised at her words, but she simply looked straight ahead with her expression as unreadable as the night they played Whinnyssippi stud. He figured it was nothing and simply spoke. “She likes ta flirt, is all. Besides, we’re all spendin’ the next couple days together. Might be best ta make amends.”

Dash sighed as she tapped a hoof against the ground in thought. After a minute of thinking she flapped her wings and took to the air. “Yeah, you’re probably right, but if anypony asks you forced me to.”

Big Macintosh only chuckled. His eyes following her as she flew towards the back of the group and towards Rarity, who was starting up a conversation with Twilight. His attention drifted back to the road. A few forks in the path turned up every once in awhile. They posed no problem since the way to Paradise Loch was ingrained in his memory. After three rights, a left, and a few miles, the road became a straight shot towards the horizon with endless fields of green grass on either side of it. A few trees could be seen off in the far distance, but those wouldn’t be reached for a few more hours.

Having had his fill of staring at the grass, Big Macintosh looked around for anybody to start a conversation with. He caught sight of Applejack by the side of the wagon along with Fluttershy.

“Hey AJ,” he said, “been awhile since we went campin’, ain’t it? Ah don’t think ya even had yer cutie mark.”

“Uh-huh, sounds about right,” Applejack said simply before turning back to Fluttershy. “So anyway, Winona’s been pretty lazy lately an’…”

Big Macintosh shook his head at his sister’s disinterest. With a small sigh he looked around again and this time saw Applebloom along with Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle.

“Hey sugarcube, Ah ever tell ya how Paradise Loch got its name?”

“Not really, but that’s okay,” Applebloom said, “we’re tryin’ ta figure out how to catch Big Hoof.” It was all she said, and she turned back to her friends.

Big Macintosh decided to just give up. Looks like he would have to wait for another opportunity to bond with Applejack and Applebloom. He gave the wagon behind him a quick tap with his hind hoof to vent out a bit of frustration and just listened to Pinkie’s singing. Even after so long her voice was as strong as when the trip began, though it was the only voice left singing.

“He~y Mack~y,” Pinkie sang, appearing beside him with a bounce. “Why do~n’t you sing with me~?”

“Sorry there, Pinkie,” Macintosh said. “Ah ain’t really in the mood for singin’.”

“Are you su~re?”

“Eeyup.”

“Are you absolutely, positively, undoubtedly, inconsequentially…”

Big Macintosh rolled his eyes as Pinkie rambled along as she usually did. Any other time he would actually enjoy not having to think of something to say, but those doubts about the camping trip seemed to be creeping back into his mind. He tried to push them away, but they persisted.

“...unquestionably sure?” Pinkie finished.

“Eeyup,” he said.

“Okey dokey lokey,” Pinkie said with a smile. “If you change your mind I could always use a baritone.”

“Eeyup.”

Pinkie Pie smiled at him and bounced backwards towards the tail end of the group, continuing her singing as she went along. Not soon afterwards did Applebloom take her place.

“Big Brother?” she said to get his attention.

“What do ya need, sugarcube?” Mac asked, hope lightening his voice. “Wanna hear my story, after all?”

“No it’s not that. Our legs are tired,” Applebloom said, gesturing towards her two friends behind her.

“Oh,” he said, trying to hide his disappointment. He stopped for a quick moment. “We’re ‘bout halfway there. Why don’t y’all get on the wagon? Should be enough room for ya.” The crusaders cheered and darted towards the back of the cart. Once they were all set Big Macintosh trudged along.

“Big Macintosh,” Rarity said sweetly, suddenly appearing next to him. “My legs are tired as well.”

“That’s nice,” he said, wondering what kind of tactic she would use against him. Maybe she would bat her eyelashes, or lean real close for an almost kiss. Either way, he hardened his heart and got ready for whatever she might throw his way. Strangely, nothing like that ever came. Instead, she just groaned.

“Well can I at least have some water?” she said with a glare.

“Eeyup,” he said, wondering at her reaction. A closer look and he realized how different her appearance was. Her coat was dampened with sweat and her mane looked about as unkempt as his own. He guessed she wasn’t in the mood to use her usual tactic. “There’s a few canteens in the wagon. But pace yerself. When those are finished we’ll have ta wait ‘til we get to the campsite so we can open up the water barrels Ah brought along.”

“Thank you,” Rarity said, moving towards the back of the cart.

“Here you go, sis,” Sweetie Belle said, holding out a round canteen to her sister. Macintosh wondered if she would drink their whole supply before they even got to camp. Thankfully, the sun was only halfway between the horizon and the very peak of its arc so the heat was still mild. He hoped it would last for the rest of the trip, but that was just wishful thinking.

And still Pinkie kept singing. It was actually starting to get on his nerves now. He blamed it on his quickly sinking mood, dragging his patience along with it. A few deep breaths helped restore the stoic demeanor most ponies knew him for. It wouldn’t do any good to bring down everyone’s good time.

“Hey Mac, you know what I just realized?” Rainbow Dash asked as she fluttered to land on his back.

“That ya use me as yer own personal perch way too often?” he asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

“What? No, of course not. I realized that I still haven’t shown you any of my awesome flying moves,” she said with a confident flap of her wings.

He grunted in response. “Ya just wanna show off to all these ponies, don’t ya?”

“Maybe,” Rainbow said with a laugh. She didn’t say anything more, and instead took to the air. She started one of her routines as she flew higher and higher. Not a particularly complex one, Big Macintosh was surprised to see, but one composed of graceful loop-the-loops, barrel rolls, and feints. Big Macintosh watched for a few minutes before he felt another, smaller weight on his back. He looked over his shoulder to see Scootaloo propping her forelegs on his harness, trying to get the best view of the show.

“Wow,” the orange filly said in awe.

“Eeyup, she sure is somethin’ else,” Big Macintosh said. He didn’t mind Scootaloo using him as a perch as much as Rainbow. After all, she was only a filly and this was the first time she was doing it.

“Yeah,” Scootaloo said absently. “I wish I could fly like that. Well, I just wish I could fly.”

Big Macintosh was about to say something to her, but before he could Rainbow fluttered down to sit, Lyra-style with her back hooves resting on his harness, on top of the stallion’s head to face Scootaloo. Big Macintosh blew her multicolored tail out of his face, annoyed at her brazen act. “Do ya even remember what Ah said about usin’ me as yer own personal perch?” Mac asked, his irritation growing.

“Hold that thought, Mac,” Rainbow said with a wave of her hoof before focusing back on Scootaloo. “Hey squirt, how about I give you first hoof experience at what its like to be the best flier in Equestria?” she asked with a grin. She took flight, turned in midair, and landed on Big Mac’s neck with her back to the filly.

Scootaloo’s face brightened immediately. “That’d be awesome!” she said as she climbed up Big Macintosh’s neck and wrapped her forelegs around Rainbow’s. After making sure Scootaloo held on tightly, Rainbow took off amongst squeals of excitement from the orange filly. The sounds continued and got louder as the fastest flier in Equestria performed her usual lineup of aerial tricks with the added weight of another pony.

“Careful Rainbow,” Twilight called as she caught up to walk beside Big Macintosh. Rainbow Dash didn’t seem to notice, though she did go a bit slower after Twilight’s warning. Content, the unicorn turned her attention towards the stallion.

“So, Paradise Loch. I’ve never heard of it before Applebloom asked me about it.”

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said.

“And uh,” Twilight continued, “Applebloom told me about the legend of Big Hoof.”

“Did she now?” he asked, pretending not to know where she was going with this.

“You don’t really believe in Big Hoof, do you?” she asked.

“ ‘course he does!” Applebloom piped up from the wagon. “Right Mac?”

“ Eeyup,” he said confidently. Satisfied, Applebloom went back to talking with her friends. Big Macintosh smiled at his sister’s trust in him, but it soon vanished as he saw Twilight’s frown.

“No really, do you believe in Big Hoof?” Twilight asked again.

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said.

“But there’s no evidence to support his existence. I mean, if there was a hoofprint or something like that then I might concede that he might exist.”

“Look Twilight,” Macintosh said, but Rarity came between them before he could go on.

“Macintosh, would you mind if I grabbed another canteen of water?” she asked.

“Ya used one up already?” Macintosh asked in surprise.

“Of course,” Rarity said. “It took quite a bit of water to clean the sweat off of me. Luckily I brought a towel to dry myself.”

Big Macintosh stopped in his tracks, stunned, for a few seconds before quickly reclaiming his pace. He stared at her and noticed that her coat and mane were now as immaculate as ever. “Ya…ya used our drinkin’ water ta clean yerself? And when we’re only a bit more than halfway done with the trip?” he said, trying to keep his voice low and calm.

“Well if you know a better way to remove sweat and dust I would love to hear it, but only after I get something to drink.”

By this time, Macintosh just wanted to end this conversation as soon as possible rather that having to withstand another moment with her. “Fine, Rarity, get another canteen.”

With a smug smile, Rarity slowed her pace until she was beside the cart. Sweetie Belle handed her another canteen, giving the farmer a guilty look as she did. This time Macintosh watched to make sure she actually drank the water. She did, and so he placed his attention back to Twilight, his patience running dangerously low. The librarian seemed to notice, and took a step away from him.

He was about to speak when he felt a weight on his back as Rainbow Dash, along with Scootaloo, landed on him.

“Thanks Rainbow Dash!” Scootaloo said happily as she hopped off and headed for the wagon.

“It was nothing,” Rainbow said. She turned towards Big Macintosh and Twilight. “So what’re you guys talking about?”

Macintosh gritted his teeth. “About how Applejack said she could beat ya at hoof wrasslin’ any day of the week an’ twice on Sunday.”

“What‽” Rainbow exclaimed, turning around to look at Applejack at the very back of the group. “I’ll show her.” With that she took off towards her rival, leaving him and Twilight alone.

“Well that seemed unnecessary,” Twilight said as she watched Rainbow Dash fly off. “If you didn’t want to talk to her you could have just told her so.”

“Eeyup,” Big Macintosh droned. “Look Twilight,” he said slowly, trying to keep his voice steady despite his annoyance. He failed. “Ah believe in Big Hoof, a’right? So can ya just drop it. Ah ain’t in the mood ta have this sorta talk with ya.”

Twilight took a step back, away from the anger clear in his voice. She didn’t answer him for a few moments, too busy thinking over everything he said. “Alright Macintosh,” she said, “but like I said, I don’t think there’s enough evidence to support the existence of Big Hoof. It’s just a legend.”

“Well if you don’t believe it that’s yer right,” he said dismissively. Twilight stared at him, and with a shake of her head went towards the back with the rest of the group.

Big Macintosh wanted nothing more than to be alone, if not completely then as much as was possible. All his doubts, all his insecurities, and all his resentment were coming back full force. He tried to fight those feelings, to send them into the very back of his mind, but he couldn’t. Not with the way things were now. Not when ponies surrounded him. He just needed isolation to get back into a calm state.

“Hey Mac, Applejack didn’t say anything about hoof wrasslin’,” Rainbow Dash said as she and his little sister came forward to stand at his sides.

“My mistake,” he said quietly.

“But me an’ Rainbow did have some time ta talk,” Applejack said. “We figured it was mighty strange that neither of us could pull the wagon.”

“That so?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Dash answered. “We know we’re not as strong as you, but we thought that all our stuff shouldn’t be that heavy.”

“Maybe, ya’ll are losin’ yer touch,” he said.

“Or maybe you did something to the cart to make it heavier,” Rainbow countered.

“Now why would Ah do that?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time Ah asked myself that,” Applejack said.

“Ah didn’t do anythin’,” he said.

“We thought you might say that,” Rainbow said with a grin before looking over her shoulder. “Hey Pinkie, c’mere a minute.”

“What is it Dashie?” Pinkie asked as she bounced to the front alongside them.

Rainbow ignored her and turned back to Macintosh. “Swear by a Pinkie Promise that you didn’t do anything to make the cart heavier or did anything else to make it so me and Applejack couldn’t pull it.”

He rolled his eyes. Honestly he didn’t think Pinkie Promises worked that way, but then again he really didn’t care. “My word ain’t enough on it’s own?”

“Nnope,” Rainbow said.

He’d be more irritated if she wasn’t right. He lifted up his hoof and did the motions as he said, “Ah promise Ah didn’t do anythin’ like that. Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”

“You get that, Pinkie?” Rainbow asked.

“Sure did,” she answered.

“Then that’s good enough for me,” Applejack said.

Big Macintosh nodded, a bit hopeful that his little sister would actually stick around for a bit of conversation. However, his hope turned to disappointment as she went back to the tail end of the group, chatting with Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie along the way. Well, at least he was alone just like he wanted.

Soon the sun’s heat was beating down on the group, although the only pony that really complained was Rarity. He just told her to drink more water and assured her that the walk wouldn’t be much longer. All the while he hoped for Celestia’s sake that they were ahead of schedule. Her complaining could only be taken with so much grace, and it only got worse. First how thirsty she was, then how sweaty she was becoming, and then how messy her mane was getting. On and on and on it went until her voice had the same effect towards the stallion as a plow blade scraping against a rock.

He looked around the group, and it seemed that everyone was lucky enough to immerse themselves in conversation or singing to take any notice of Rarity’s complaining. Everyone except for Spike, who was at the beck and call of his crush’s every whim. He brought her canteens of water, and went back and forth to fetch whatever Rarity needed from her bags in the wagon.

Thankfully, relief came beneath the boughs of the trees that made up Paradise Woods. It wouldn’t be long now, an hour at the most. With the shade of the leaves Rarity’s protests died down a bit.

The woods suddenly gave way to a grassy clearing and Big Macintosh stopped by the side of a lake that stretched out for miles, the opposite side of the shore hidden by the horizon. Its water shimmered in the noonday sun, and on the shore stood a small outcropping of rock that jutted out towards deeper waters (a perfect diving board, he remembered). In the very center of the field was a sizable circle of rocks, a few sprouts of grass poking out from the encompassed dirt, and a couple of half-logs used for seating. Big Macintosh only admired the beauty for a few seconds before unhitching himself and shrugging his shoulders to relieve the slight pain from the trip.

“Thank Celestia,” Rarity moaned as she collapsed on the thick grass.

“A’right, let’s go hunt for Big Hoof!” Applebloom called out, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders scrambled off the wagon.

“Now hold on,” Applejack said. It was enough to stop the three in their tracks. “We still have ta set up camp.”

“Awww,” the crusaders groaned.

“Why don’t ya help Twilight and Spike set up the tents? Rainbow, Pinkie, Fluttershy, ya’ll can help me unload the wagon. Mac, take the shovel.”

Big Macintosh nodded, understanding her meaning. He leaned up against the cart and rummaged through the equipment. He finally found what he was looking for and grabbed the shovel between his teeth. While the other ten campers talked amongst themselves and decided where to lay their tents, the stallion quietly made his way towards the woods to dig the most important fixture of any good campsite.

Big Macintosh reappeared at the level plain of grass without the shovel, just in time for Rarity to canter towards him, a bit of a giddy-up in her step. She looked around to make sure no other ponies were within their immediate vicinity before lowering her head in secrecy.

“Uh, Big Macintosh, sweetie,” she whispered so quietly that Macintosh had to lower his own head to hear her. “Where can I…powder my nose?”

Macintosh knew enough about fillies to know what that meant. “Straight that way,” he said, gesturing towards the way he just came from. “Behind some bushes.”

Rarity quickly nodded her thanks before trotting into the woods.

The workpony made his way back to the center of the campsite. Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Spike, Applejack and Pinkie Pie were still unloading the wagon. Two tents, one much larger than the other, were set up a safe distance from and around the fire pit. Beside them, sitting around the circle of stones, was Twilight Sparkle talking to all three Cutie Mark Crusaders. He approached them, hoping to get into the conversation. When he got close enough for them to notice him, he didn’t get the welcome he was expecting.

The Cutie Mark Crusaders all looked at him, eyes heavy with sadness. It made him freeze in place, wondering what had happened. Finally, Applebloom stood and walked a couple of steps towards him.

“Big Hoof isn’t real…” she mumbled.

“What?” he said. “ ‘course he’s real.”

“That’s not what Twilight said,” Scootaloo said, “and she’s the smartest pony in Ponyville.”

“Yeah,” Sweetie Belle added, “There isn’t any proof that he exists.”

Macintosh looked at the smartest pony in Ponyville. She just smiled at him like she hadn’t done anything wrong, like she hadn’t completely ruined his plan to spend some quality time with his baby sister.

He turned back towards the three fillies. “That doesn’t mean he ain’t real,” Macintosh quickly said, shooting for his last chance at saving this camping trip.

“So much for our monster hunter cutie marks,” Sweetie Belle said, standing up and walking towards the wagon. “Maybe we can get our help-empty-a-wagon cutie marks.”

“I can’t believe your brother thinks Big Hoof is real,” Scootaloo said, following Sweetie. Applebloom gave her older brother a final, sad look before joining the other two. He watched her go before turning towards the cause of it all.

“Twilight,” he whispered, scared that he might lose control of his voice, “why did ya tell ‘em Big Hoof wasn’t real?”

Twilight gave him a confused look. ““What? They asked me if I wanted to come hunt Big Hoof with them, and I told them I didn’t believe in Big Hoof and why. He’s just a legend after all.”

Macintosh didn’t know what to do. So instead he just nodded, and Twilight gave him another smile that showed how much she didn’t understand. How could she?

“Alright then,” she said, still smiling, “I should go help unload the wagon, too.” With that she walked towards the cart, quite a few bags levitating in the air as she approached with her glowing horn. Twilight’s magic helped immensely and it only took a few seconds to get all the supplies onto the grass.

It was true that many hooves made light work. Macintosh didn’t even get a chance to touch anything before the other ten campers sorted everything and put them in their proper place. Soon the campsite looked almost like home, and he didn’t have anything to do with it.

With the work done the others started to rest from the long walk, each going into their own little groups. Spike, Twilight, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie were content with talking and joking around as they lay beside the empty firepit. Applejack and Rainbow Dash were by the half-log seats, hoof-wrassling. The Cutie Mark Crusaders, meanwhile, decided to go explore the lake shore, playfully splashing each other in the shallow water.

Big Macintosh stood alone in the center of it all, yet completely apart. Completely useless.

Finally he decided to look for something, anything at all to do, anything at all to make him forget about everything around him. Looking around, he saw his sleeping bag along with the six sacks of rocks and gravel. He was surprised that no one called him out on it, but then again they might have thought that they served an actual purpose besides just weighing down the cart.

With a sigh Macintosh walked towards his things, but he didn’t get far.

“Big Macintosh!” Dozens of birds, spooked out of their roost, flew into the air desperate to escape the menacing roar that echoed through the forest. The next thing Macintosh heard were powerful stomps that seemed to shake the whole ground. The colt looked back at the others, and they just stepped away from him as if he had a bad case of the ponypox.

Rarity didn’t look as bad as he thought she would, but then again he didn’t really have an idea of how he expected her to look. But one thing that he did expect was the livid glare and menacing scowl that would send Cerberus running the other way. Big Macintosh wondered what he did this time as Rarity stormed up to him and pressed her nose against his.

“You cannot expect me to use a hole in the ground,” she huffed, stepping forward with each word and forcing him to take a step back.

Big Macintosh was taken by surprise. Not by the fury tainting her voice and steps but by why it was there in the first place. His eyelids lowered back in their usual half open position. “We ain’t exactly in a princess suite here, Miss Rarity,” he said.

“I wasn’t expecting one,” she snapped. “But I was expecting at least a building with some basic plumbing.”

He was getting damn tired of her lip, and his patience had all but run out. “We’re miles away from any of that.”

“I don’t care,” she said. “There is no way I am using a hole!”

“Well Miss Rarity,” he said, going into the offensive as his voice turned into a loud bellow while his hooves took a few steps forward and forced the unicorn back. “ ‘less yer digestive system is so dang efficient that anythin’ left over leaves yer body through yer pores in a fine odorless mist, Ah think ya are. An’ if bein’ apart from yer toilet is too much for ya then Ah’ll be more than happy ta toss ya on my back and run ya back ta Ponyville. ‘cause that’ll be worlds better than putting up with yer dang complainin’ for an entire weekend!”

Rarity did not like that one bit and after a very unfeminine growl their argument devolved into name calling.

“Stubborn stallion!”

“Prissy mare!”

“Oaf!”

“Snob!”

“That’s enough you two,” Twilight said as she, Applejack, Rainbow Dash and Spike went to the fighting pair. Applejack and Rainbow pushed Big Macintosh back while Twilight and Spike managed to push back Rarity. The duo finally broke eye contact as they turned their heads away from each other at the same time.

Big Macintosh turned towards the thinner part of the woods and made his way to a path twisting through the trees. “Ah’m gonna go gather some firewood,” he said to no one in particular.

He didn’t stop walking until the campsite became lost amongst the trees and the path disappeared beneath his hooves. The woods were quiet, not even wildlife could be heard. He was finally alone, finally able to rebuild his lost calm. Taking deep breaths helped with his frustration, but they it couldn’t remedy the loss he felt. He didn’t need to be on this camping trip. What difference would it make if he weren’t here? Well for one thing he wouldn’t risk getting angry and ruining everyone’s good time.

A set of steady hoofsteps took him out of his contemplation. He turned around and saw his little sister coming towards him. She looked calm, though concerned. Macintosh had expected her to be a bit more angry with him.

“You feelin’ okay, Mac?” she asked. “Not that Ah don’t think Rarity deserved what she got, but it ain’t like ya ta snap like that ‘less there was somethin’ really big buggin’ ya.”

“It’s nothing,” he said.

Applejack smiled, walked up to him and turned so she stood beside her brother and pressed her side against his. “C’mon, tell me.”

He sighed. There wasn’t any point in hiding it anymore. Might as well come clean with everything. “Just feels like my campin’ trip ain’t my campin’ trip anymore. It pretty much belongs to yer friends now.”

She nodded. “Yeah, Ah can see that, but that shouldn’t stop ya from havin’ fun.”

“Well,” Macintosh said, “Ah was hopin’ ta spend time with you and Applebloom, but Ah don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

“Ya wanted ta use this trip to get closer to us?” she asked.

“Eeyup,” he said. “Ah’ve been spendin’ a lot of time with your friends, but not with my sisters. Applebloom spends most of her time with her friends, and you’ve been workin’ a whole lot more ‘round the farm ta pick up the slack.”

“Yeah, Ah know how that feels,” Applejack said.

“What’s that supposed ta mean?”

“C’mon Mac, ya haven’t noticed? Applebloom spends more time with me than she does with the crusaders. Ya’ve always just been too busy to realize that. As for spendin’ time with me, well, where were ya when Ah wanted ta spend time with you? You were workin’ the farm, too busy ta pay attention ta me. Especially when we were young.” She turned to come face to face with him. Her face was full of regret, and her eyes seemed sad as they stared into his own.

“Now hold on,” Macintosh said. “If you’ll recall we didn’t have much growin’ up. Ah had ta work the farm.”

“Ah know, Mac. Ah know,” Applejack said quickly. “But it wasn’t always like that. One day Ah was tryin’ ta topple ya over, the next ya were tryin’ yer hardest ta water the entire orchard with a small cup. It just feels like ya cast me and Applebloom aside, an’ now ya wanna pick up where we left off?”

“Ah didn’t cast ya aside,” Macintosh said defensively. “Ah took up the farm for my family and-” He stopped when Applejack reared up and wrapped her forelegs around her brother’s neck and nuzzled her cheek against him.

“Ah know, Mac,” she said again. “We appreciate everything you did for us.” She released him and took a couple of steps back. With a smile she continued, “But we can take care of ourselves now, so ya ain’t gotta worry about me and Applebloom, an’ ya can start focusin’ on yer own life.”

Macintosh suddenly felt numb, as if somebody had poured ice water down his back. It took a few moments for him to find the words he needed. “But Ah don’t wanna stop worryin’ about ya. Ah don’t wanna stop bein’ an older brother.”

Applejack chuckled. He couldn’t believe it, she actually chuckled. “Yer still an older brother, Mac. We just don’t need ya as much anymore.”

Macintosh stood frozen and his sister came up to him and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Now get on back ta camp an’ enjoy yerself. It should be fun ta watch Rarity apologize to ya after all the complainin’ she did on the walk here.” She smiled, completely unaware of the effect her words had. Mac could only stand to nod slightly. It seemed to be enough and she trotted cheerfully back to camp.

Big Macintosh watched her go. He wanted to say something, anything to keep her with him for a few moments more, but no sound ever came from the stallion. He could only watch as his entire purpose walked away.

11. Family Recipes

Family Recipes

Something was wrong with his plow. The blade shone brilliantly in the few rays of sunlight filtering through the barn’s wooden structure. No red rust stained the plow blade’s surface, which shone a brighter silver than before. No chips or dents plagued its edge, now steel instead of iron. The same could be said of its wooden parts. No longer were they crooked and pitted, but smooth and polished. Everything was perfect and new. One thought crossed his mind as he chewed at the end of his stalk of wheat: He hated it.

Applejack walked into the barn, her lasso wound and hanging from her neck. Big Macintosh looked over at her and, when she noticed him, he gently tapped the plow blade with the edge of his hoof. The metal clanked from the impact as she approached him and gave him a confused stare. He did it again, harder this time, and she finally understood.

“Ah got ya a new one,” she said.

“What did ya do with the old one?” he asked.

“Put it out in the junk pile outside the farm ready ta get hauled and recycled.”

He grunted in annoyance. “We still coulda used it.”

“That’s why Ah threw it out.”

He looked at her, and she stared back. They held each others eyes for a few long seconds. Big Macintosh looked away with a sigh, his gaze returning to his plow. “If Ah use this one the fields’ll be done in a couple of hours. It usually takes me half the day.”

“Good, it’ll give ya some free time.”

“Ah don’t want free time,” he said simply.

Applejack placed a hoof on his shoulder. “Believe me, Mac, you do.” She didn’t say anything more before going to the other side of the barn, hanging up her lasso on a nail, and leaving him alone with his plow. He looked at it again until, with a shake of his head, he left the barn as well and headed for the junk pile just outside the farm, far away from the apple orchard, where it waited to be taken by garbage ponies.

Once there, Big Macintosh pushed aside several bags of trash until he finally found his old plow at the very bottom of the pile. He pulled it out and placed it, standing, far from the rest of the junk. He stared at the familiar sight, at its half broken handle and bent blade.

He didn’t know when Applejack found the opportunity to replace it without him noticing. They had gotten back from the camping trip two weeks ago. Big Macintosh had completely immersed himself with work since then, as soon as the doctor gave him the okay. Day and night he worked, more than usual even for him. Of course, Applejack’s friends came by to bother him every so often. He simply kept to short, curt responses, and soon enough they stopped trying and left him alone.

He had tried to go back to how things were, but now he realized that was impossible.

This plow deserved better, Macintosh knew that much. He grabbed its handle and dragged it back towards the farm. He didn’t stop until he was back at the barn and placed the old plow toward the back and covered it with a nearby tarp, away from sight.

Macintosh couldn’t think of anything to do with it, but decided to keep it until he could find a purpose for it. If Applejack saw him using it she would just chew him out. He sighed. Three months ago that wouldn’t seem like a reason to stop him, but now things were different. She was right to an extent. He had enough sense to admit that his life had been mostly work for the majority of his life, but he never thought it was that bad. Even so, he didn’t want to stop and make friends just yet. Soon, he would often tell himself, but there was something he needed to find first.

He grabbed the new blade and took it out to the fields for its first run. Just as he had said, the work went quickly and easily. The new blade cut through the dirt like a knife through water, and Big Macintosh didn’t even break a sweat as he pulled the plow behind him. How could anything easy be worthwhile? If Applejack wanted she could do this herself. What the hell did they need him for?

Big Macintosh headed for the farmstead, not even bothering to put the plow away. Hopefully a bit of time out in the open would make it age faster.

The smell of baked sweets filled the house and for a moment Big Macintosh completely forgot about finding something worthwhile to do. He entered the kitchen and found Granny Smith hurriedly taking a whole assortment of apple pastries out of the oven. Applejack, meanwhile, was putting each one into its own tiny pastry box and wrapping them in green tissue paper. In turn, she placed each wrapped box into her saddlebags.

“Hey Mac,” Applejack said once she noticed him. “Done with the fields?”

“Eeyup,” he said. “Anythin’ else Ah can do?”

“Nah, yer fine. Go and enjoy the rest of the day,” she said.

“You sure?” he asked. “Can’t Ah help with what yer doin’?”

Applejack shrugged. “If ya want. Can ya deliver these samples over to Lyra’s place? She’s got some sorta event with her musician buddies, and she’s lookin’ for a caterer. It’d be nice to have some business.”

Big Macintosh nodded with a smile. He grabbed the saddlebags and gently draped them across his back. He turned towards the exit but Applejack pressed a hoof against his chest before he got the chance.

“Listen Mac, the thing about Lyra is that she’s…” Applejack stopped for a moment to tap her hoof against her chin, “what’s the word…”

“Finicky?” Big Macintosh asked.

“No, the opposite of that,” she said.

“Indiscriminatin’?”

“No, that ain’t right either. Look, what ya gotta know is that there’s a lotta really great caterers in Ponyville. Lyra knows that, and she’s a damn busy mare these days, so what she does is call up a few caterers that she really likes and picks the first one that brings her a sample.”

“So Ah just gotta be the first an’ it’s a done deal?” he asked.

“Yeah, so hurry yer flank and get outta here already.”

Big Macintosh nodded and trotted out the door.

“And once yer done with that Ah want ya ta spend the rest of the day outta the farm,” Applejack called after him. He pretended not to hear.

He walked to Ponyville with a smile on his face. Sure the work wasn’t hard, but Applejack had asked him to do it and that’s what mattered. The walk to Ponyville was peaceful as the ponies walked to their business in the early afternoon sun. As Big Macintosh walked in front of Sugarcube Corner, he saw Mr. Cake exit the building with saddlebags on his back.

“Hey there, Big Macintosh,” he called out.

“Howdy,” Mac said with a small nod.

The two happened to go in the same direction, and they silently walked beside each other. Big Macintosh didn’t think anything of it at first, but soon he began to grow a bit suspicious. He would take a right, Mr. Cake would take a right. He took a left, Mr. Cake took a left. He began to wonder what exactly was in Mr. Cake’s saddlebags, and, judging by the confectioner’s looks at the farmpony, he was thinking the same thing.

“Nice day, isn’t it?” Mr. Cake said, picking up his hooves to a brisk trot.

“Eeyup,” Big Mac said, matching the pace.

“So…you headin’ to Lyras’s?” he asked, speeding up to a slow gallop.

Big Macintosh smiled politely, though his muscles tensed. “Eeyup,” Mac said.

“Oh,” Mr. Cake said. Their eyes met for a split second, and in an instant they were off galloping down the streets of Ponyville. They were neck and neck, neither of them getting any lead. Truth be told, Mac never expected Mr. Cake to be so fast. Then again, Mac was never known for his speed. If Lyra’s house was farther away he might win on his endurance alone, too bad that wasn’t the case.

The race escalated as Mr. Cake pushed his side against Macintosh, trying to get him off balance. Macintosh couldn’t help but smirk. If that’s how he wanted to play it then that was okay by him. Mr. Cake stumbled to keep his balance after Mac pushed against him, but he managed to stay on his hooves, though not without losing a couple of yards.

Her house wasn’t far now, just a large curve in the road that doubled back and it would be the house at the end of the lane.

Mr. Cake quickly made up the lost distance. Macintosh tried to bump him again, but Mr. Cake quickly slowed down to dodge it and caused Mac to lose his balance this time. The farmpony managed to keep upright, but gritted his teeth as he realized Mr. Cake was ahead. He wasn’t sure if he could catch up. That was when he saw the active construction site on his right. It was risky, but if he pulled it off he could cut across the bend and save a lot of time.

Macintosh took a quick glance to Mr. Cake in front of him and, when he was sure he wouldn’t notice, took a quick turn into the dirt-filled field of steel beams and wood frames.

He heard ponies shout at him as he jumped over piles of drywall and pools of cement, sidestepped construction ponies and machinery, and dashed through clouds of dust and exhaust. Seeing the other side of the field made it all worth it though. Just a quick hop over a small pile of bricks onto the road, a quick turn, and he would be right at Lyra’s door.

With a giddy jump, Mac took to the air, but before his hooves touched ground he felt a bludgeoning force hit his side with enough power to send him rolling several feet down the road. Big Macintosh didn’t know whether he was still conscious until he heard a familiar voice in front of him.

“Thanks Bon Bon, these truffles are sure to shut up Octavia. Can ya do me a favor and make one extra big for that stuck up mare to choke on?”

“No problem. I’ll have that order done by tomorrow,” Bon Bon said as she stepped out of Lyra’s house. Big Macintosh managed to open an eye against the pain at his side to see the earth pony with the two-color mane. She spotted him and waved. “Morning, Mr. Apple,” she said with an unsubtle smirk.

“Mornin’, Miss Bon Bon,” Mac said.

She turned to look at a point behind him. “Morning, Mr. Cake,” she said.

“Bon Bon,” Mr. Cake said.

“Bye boys,” she said as she trotted happily away. Macintosh could only watch her go as he waited for the pain, both in his ribs and his pride, to fade away. Once it did he stood up and rubbed a hoof against the tender area. Nothing seemed broken, thank goodness, the last thing he needed was yet another injury.

He looked over to find Mr. Cake rubbing his head. “It’s like I ran into a brick wall,” he mumbled. The baker noticed Macintosh looking at him and gave him a weak smile. “Aw well, there’ll be others. Sorry about that crash.”

“No problem,” Big Macintosh said as he got up to his hooves.

“So what brings you out here? Usually it’s Applejack I’m racing to get a catering gig.”

“Thought Ah might help out a bit more,” Big Macintosh said, and in an effort to change the subject added, “so how’s Mrs. Cake an’ the twins?”

“They're doin’ good. She’s out shopping for ingredients with ‘em right now. You wanna get a drink? Least I could do after that crash.”

“Well Ah,” Big Macintosh paused to look in the direction of Sweet Apple Acres. He wanted to say he had to get back in the farm, but that wasn’t exactly true. He wanted to, but knew that Applejack would yell at him again. He hated how much of a deterrent that had become. Though as bad as that was, there was something else that was holding him back. “Will Pinkie be there?” he asked.

Mr. Cake smiled. “Yeah, she is. She’ll be happy to see you.”

Macintosh highly doubted that. Pinkie Pie was one of the most persistent during the past two weeks. She always tried to talk to him and invite him to parties. He always remained silent and always refused. She still hadn’t given up, and the last time Macintosh saw her was a couple of days ago.

“Ah don’t think-”

“Let’s go,” Mr. Cake interrupted him. He started walking back the way they came, not even checking if Big Macintosh was following. He didn’t have to. Macintosh shook his head sadly before walking right behind.

-*-

“Hey Macky!” Macintosh barely had time to hang up his saddlebags before Pinkie had him in a hug. “I didn’t think you’d ever come out of the farm.”

“Ah’ve been busy,” Mac said as he gently pushed her away. He was a bit relieved that she didn’t resent him for rejecting her all those times, though he couldn’t help but wonder whether the pink pony was even capable of resentment.

“I invited him over for a drink, Pinkie,” Mr. Cake said. “Would you mind bringing me an orange soda, please?”

“Sure thing,” Pinkie Pie said with a bounce. “What would you like, Macky?”

Big Macintosh was a bit taken aback by Mr. Cake’s order, and so simply asked for water. She gave him a happy nod and disappeared through a door leading to the back of Sugarcube Corner. Meanwhile, Mr. Cake led him to the front of the store and behind the counter. The shop was empty, and Big Mac saw the hanging sign on the door (flipped to ‘closed’) responsible for the lull in business.

“You sure it’s fine to leave it like that?” Macintosh said with a nod towards the sign.

Mr. Cake took a quick look. “It’ll be fine. It’s good to take a break every now and then.”

Macintosh nodded, and quickly wished for Pinkie Pie to suddenly appear with drinks. At least then he’d have an excuse not to talk instead of trying to think up something to say during the lull in conversation.

As if answering his prayer Pinkie appeared beside the stallions, balancing a tray and three full glasses on her head. With a quick flick of her head the tray slid onto the counter with an added little spin. Not a drop spilled.

Macintosh looked at the glasses as the other two eagerly took their drinks—orange for Mr. Cake and a pink, strawberry probably, for Pinkie Pie. Big Macintosh took his glass of water and sipped at it quietly. He looked at the few ice cubes bobbing in the water before finally speaking.

“You know, when ya said a drink Ah didn’t think ya meant soda.”

“Bit early for that kind of drink,” Mr. Cake said with a smile. “Some of us still have to work.”

And some of them didn’t. “When did catering get so dang competitive?” Macintosh asked. He hoped that would get them talking for a while so he could simply listen.

“Aw well,” Mr. Cake began, “used to be that ponies went to Sweet Apple Acres for anything apple related, Sugarcube Corner for pies and cupcakes and such, and there’d be the specialty caterers like Bon Bon and her chocolates. Nowadays there are dozens of ponies doin’ some sorta catering. Hate to break it to ya, Mac, but Sweet Apple Acres doesn’t have a monopoly on apples anymore.”

“Ah know that,” Big Macintosh said with a smile. “We have a monopoly on good apples, if Ah do say so myself.”

“Wanna prove it?” Mr. Cake said with a smile. Big Macintosh quirked an eyebrow towards him, and he continued. “You do know that the National Dessert Competition is comin’ up the day after next, right?”

“Ya mean the one where ya had me carry that cake of yers?” Macintosh asked.

“That’d be the one. And if I remember right you had a bit of trouble carrying it,” Mr. Cake said, his smile growing wider.

“Ah wasn’t feelin’ well,” Macintosh said simply.

“Uh-huh. Well or not, you should enter. Might drum up some business. It does for Sugarcube Corner every year.”

“Oh oh! You totally should, Macky,” Pinkie interjected. “I’m sure you’re good at baking, right? I mean, don’t all Apples know how to bake? But I remember baking one time with Applebloom and Applejack and it not going so well. But that won’t happen a third time, right?” Pinkie said.

Macintosh looked into his glass for a few moments, his eyes going back to the ice cubes. “Ah should, but won’t Ah be competing against y’all? Ah wouldn’t want to get in yer way.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mr. Cake said. “Ever since what happened the year we entered the Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness they’ve decided to split the contest into categories: fruit-based, sweet breads, custards, and a few more I can’t remember. Pinkie’s representing Sugarcube Corner this year with her cupcakes, and I’m guessing you're gonna enter something with apples, so you’d be competing in a different category.”

Big Macintosh thought about it for a moment. Maybe attracting business to Sweet Apple Acres could finally be the job he was looking for. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. Not to mention it could be a chance to spend some time with his sisters. Sure, Applejack had told him to get off the farm, but wasn’t that what he was doing by entering the competition? If practicing for the contest meant spending more time in the farmstead’s kitchen and, by extension, his sisters, then could Applejack really fault him for that?

“Oh! You can come by tomorrow and we can practice our recipes here in Sugarcube Corner, so we can help each other. That’d be super-duper fun,” Pinkie said with a huge grin.

“Ah don’t know about that, Pinkie,” Mac said, easily masking his unwillingness. “Ah’m sure Mr. Cake doesn’t want me gettin’ in everypony’s way while they’re tryin’ ta do business.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Mr. Cake said. “You can just come by after business hours. Me and the missus are going out that night anyway, so as long as you don’t mind helping Pinkie watch the twins.”

“Uh…huh,” Mac said slowly. “So you’d, uh,” he paused to find the right words, “let me come here while you’re out.”

Mr. Cake didn’t hesitate in his answer, thankfully averting any awkwardness. “You’re both adults, and I trust Pinkie. Not to mention that I have a feeling that whatever I do to you won’t even compare to what your sister will do if you aren’t on your best behavior.”

Macintosh sighed at his failure to get out of the situation. He could simply refuse Pinkie’s offer, but if Applejack ever found out he had (which would be almost a certainty given how much those mares talked to each other) he’d be a dead stallion. He took another sip of his drink. If only he could go back to the days when Applejack’s yelling didn’t seem like a big deal.

“Macky?” Pinkie said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Ah guess that’d be alright then,” he said. Pinkie Pie cheered and gave him a quick hug, and again he pushed her away gently. He stood and headed for the door. “Ah’ll come by tomorrow, and get all the ingredients Ah need.”

“You already have a dish in mind?” Mr. Cake asked.

“Eeyup,” Mac said, already halfway out the door with his saddlebags on his back.

Only a couple of hours passed since Applejack sent him on his errand, surely not enough time to qualify as ‘enjoying the rest of the day’. All he could do now was find a way to waste some time, and what better way than by doing what he always did when he couldn’t work: lay beneath the shade of a tree and sleep. Of course, it couldn’t be an apple tree this time, so he decided to simply go to the park.

On his way there, however, he ran into Applejack walking about town. She saw him, gave him a wave, and trotted over to meet him. “Heya Mac, how’d that delivery go?” she asked.

“Bon Bon got there first,” he said as he turned away from the park and toward Sweet Apple Acres. “Mr. Cake invited me to Sugarcube Corner for a soda,” he added with the hope of grabbing attention away from his failure.

It seemed to work. “Hey, that’s great.” Macintosh couldn’t help but cringe. Her tone shared the same quality as a mother talking of her child’s scribbles before placing it on the fridge. Applejack didn’t notice his adverse reaction and continued, “Did ya see Pinkie while you were there? You know she’s entering the National Dessert Competition again?”

“Eeyup. Enterin’ myself, too.”

Applejack smiled the kind of wide and toothy grin he hadn’t seen for a while. It made him smile in turn. “Great! You thinkin’ of makin’ Granny Smith’s famous apple pie?”

“Eeyup,” he said, “an’, uh, Pinkie invited me over to Sugarcube Corner to bake together tomorrow.”

Applejack laughed and threw her forelegs around him in a hug. Once she released him he patted his shoulder for good measure. “Ah’m proud of you, Mac,” she said. “Ah gotta admit Ah thought you’d go back to workin’. Especially considering these past couple of weeks. Let’s go get yer ingredients together.” She trotted happily beside him, and Big Macintosh couldn’t help but feel better about the whole day. How could he pay himself any mind when Applejack smiled like that?

-*-

Big Macintosh arrived at Sugarcube Corner the next afternoon after completing all his chores. Applejack had forced him to use the new plow again and he had to spend the extra time slowly walking around Ponyville.

Though the sign in front of Sugarcube Corner read ‘closed’ the door was unlocked. Still, he knocked gently to avoid being rude. Pinkie Pie answered and, after an energetic hello consisting of an unwanted hug, invited him in. Looking around he found the place empty except for the two of them and a small crib standing by the entrance to the kitchen.

“The Cakes still here?” Macintosh asked as he made his way to the crib.

“Nah, they’re always in a rush when I’m babysitting,” Pinkie said as she entered the kitchen.

Big Macintosh peeked inside the crib to find the Cake twins sleeping soundly. He smiled. “Well ain’t y’all just the cutest little things Ah ever did see,” he said quietly so as to not wake them. He stepped away and entered the kitchen where Pinkie was already getting every single pot, pan, mixer, and every other appliance she could find. Much more than either of them would probably need. He carefully placed his saddlebag on the counter and unloaded the glass canisters holding his ingredients as well as a small silver thermos and four red apples.

“So what’re you making?” Pinkie asked as she poured some flour into a mixing bowl.

“The Apple Family’s World Famous Apple Pie,” Big Mac said with a hint of pride in his voice. He started on the crust, adding flour to a bowl and quickly mixing it in with some ice-cold butter and shortening.

“Sounds good,” Pinkie said. “Did Granny Smith teach it to you?”

“Eeyup,” he said, “but it’s been in the family for ages and every generation makes its own little changes to the recipe.”

“Changes? Like what?”

“Welp, take Applejack. She takes out the cinnamon and uses…allspice,” he said with a roll of his eyes, “while Ah use a bit of my secret ingredient.” He pushed the thermos towards her and she eyed it curiously. She popped open the top and smelled it’s contents. Her nose scrunched up and, slowly, she tipped the container toward her mouth and took a sip. She smiled and replaced the top.

“Oooo, sneaky,” she said with a giggle. “The heat’ll burn it away though, right?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said, “which is why Ah put some in the dough too. So what’re you makin’?” he asked as he started coring his apples.

“Remember those orange cinnamon cupcakes you tried?” she asked.

“Eeyup.”

“I’m making those with a cream cheese and zap apple jam frosting.”

He had to think about the strange combination. Honestly he could see it going either way from horrible to heavenly. Knowing Pinkie, however, made him bet on the latter. “Ah’m gonna have to try it,” Macintosh said.

“Definitely,” Pinkie said with a nod as she went over to the ovens on the other side of the kitchen. “How hot do you need it?” she asked.

“Four twenty-five,” he said.

“Okie dokie lokie.” She pressed a few buttons, turned a few knobs, and the ovens came to life.

The two then quietly went to work. Pinkie Pie would fill the silence every now and then with little tidbits of information. Past recipes she tried, how happy she was when the Cakes told her they would be entering her dessert, and how hectic babysitting the Cake twins could be. Big Macintosh didn’t mind so much, especially since there wasn’t much need for him to talk back.

Instead his mind could focus on his apple pie crust as he draped it over his tin mold. Then he simply seasoned his apples and added a few trickles of his secret ingredient, sneaking a sip from the thermos when he thought Pinkie wasn’t looking. From there he cut strips from his leftover crust and placed it on top of the pie, carefully crisscrossing them in a lattice pattern.

“You ready to bake?” Pinkie asked. Big Macintosh looked over at her side of the counter and saw a cupcake pan filled with an orange batter. He could smell the spicy sweet aroma from where he stood.

“Eeyup,” he said.

Pinkie smiled as she balanced her pan on the top of her head and bounced towards the ovens. Meanwhile, Macintosh was content with carrying his pie with a gentle bite. Both of them placed their desserts in their respective ovens, and Macintosh couldn’t help but smile as he closed the oven door.

A loud cry from outside the kitchen wiped that smile off his face, and he quickly turned his head towards the source.

“The twins are awake!” Pinkie said happily as she rushed towards the crib, Macintosh cautiously walking behind her. She grabbed a bag from the living room and started rummaging through it. “You can’t be hungry, your mommy just fed you half an hour ago,” she said as she began pulling out toy after toy to try and calm the twins down. When nothing worked she simply shook her head with a smile. “Okay, okay. Time to get the flour. Stay here, Macky,” she said as she entered the kitchen.

Mac’s eyes followed her, and he wondered what she could have possibly meant by that. Shaking his head, he looked at the crying foals. He wanted to play with them a bit, but something held him back. Some little fear that he would only make things worse. A feeling that wasn’t there when Applebloom was a baby. Would they like a piggyback ride, or would that just make them cry more? Maybe he could do what he always did with baby Applebloom and toss them in the air and catch them using nothing but his head, or maybe that was too dangerous. Then again, he had yet to drop a foal.

“Surprise!” Pinkie shouted. Macintosh tried to turn but before he could his eyesight was blurred by dust. He closed his eyes against it and when he opened them again he found himself covered, hoof to head, in flour.

“Pinkie!” Mac said, but she stopped him and pointed towards the crib. He looked and saw the Cake twins laughing and clapping their hooves.

Pinkie soon joined in their laughter as she caught sight of Big Macintosh after the flour had settled. She tried to stifle her giggles with her front hooves but to no avail. She fell on her back and kicked the air as she burst into dizzy laughter.

“You look like Rarity,” she managed to gasp out.

“You take that back,” Macintosh said. He was getting pretty annoyed by now. Pinkie Pie didn’t say anything and continued rolling on the ground. Irritated, he placed his hoof in a pile of flour and swiped it towards her, sending a shower of white to her.

Pinkie yelped in surprised and jumped to her hooves. “No fair,” she said with a laugh. She covered her hoof in flour and threw it at him. The two of them laughed despite the mess.

“Ah guess Ah should get the vacuum,” he said. “Where do the Cakes ke-“ he stopped as he felt a hoof rub against his side. “Uh, Pinkie?” he said to the pink mare as she moved her hoof across his side in straight lines and curves that all seemed completely random.

“Almost done,” she said, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. Macintosh fought the urge to push her away or take a step back. It was Pinkie Pie, and she usually had a reason behind all her randomness…usually. Finally, with a punctuated tap, she stopped.

“What do you think?” she asked the Cake twins. They clapped their hooves and nodded in approval. Big Mac tried to take a look, but his perspective distorted whatever she did. Pinkie Pie noticed him craning his neck and darted out of the room. She came back seconds later holding a large mirror that she leaned against the wall.

Macintosh approached it and turned his side to it. He smiled. Leave it to Pinkie to figure out how to make a landscape of Sweet Apple Acres using nothing but flour and the color of his coat. She had wiped away some of the flour to varying degrees in order to get different shades of red. On the middle of his side she had drawn a sunset, towards his flank she drew the Apple homestead, and towards his shoulder she drew the apple orchard, heavy with big, red apples. Mac couldn’t help but admire it.

“Ya did one heck of a job,” he said.

Pinkie smiled. “Thanks, I practiced-“

Before the conversation could go further the pair heard the sound of rattling wood. They looked towards the crib and saw Pumpkin and Pound reaching their hooves out toward Big Macintosh. He didn’t quite understand what they wanted, and looked to Pinkie for help in translating.

“Oh, I think they want to draw on you too, Macky,” Pinkie said, with a questioning look toward him, silently asking if it was okay.

“Ah guess that’d be fine so long as they don’t muss up your drawing,” Mac said, turning around so that his untouched, floured side faced the crib. Pinkie Pie smiled, went to the Cake twins and carried them towards the farmpony. Macintosh rested on his stomach as she sat them beside him on the hardwood floor.

The twins went straight to work and started running their hooves through his floured coat. They didn’t make anything as elaborate as Pinkie’s drawing but that didn’t stop them from enjoying themselves. Pound was content with patting on him and punching up some dust while Pumpkin felt more of an urge to create something, even if that something was an assortment of curves or lines.

Pinkie smiled at him. “I should start cleaning up, I’ll get a broom and dustpan,” she said before trotting down a hallway, leaving Mac alone with the twins.

He couldn’t help but be a bit intimidated by the prospect of looking after twins by himself, even for the minute or so it would take Pinkie to fetch a broom. Again that tiny bit of uncertainty came to him. The feeling only grew as the twins got bored with their artistic pursuits and started looking for something else to do. Something that always meant trouble when dealing with young foals.

Looking around, he quickly spotted the bag of toys Pinkie tried to entertain them with earlier. He got up, grabbed the bag, and emptied its contents of plastic widgets out in front of the twins. They stared at the toys for a few seconds before rummaging through them. Probable crisis averted, Macintosh mentally patted himself on the back and went back to resting on his stomach and idly watched the twins at play.

Pumpkin had picked up and started to bite on a large plastic ring covered in little bumps and grooves. It squeaked whenever she bit down hard enough, and he wondered if perhaps the Cakes accidentally got her a dog toy. Pound, meanwhile, had grabbed a plastic hammer between his hooves and laughed at the dust flying away from Mac’s coat with every strike.

Mac smiled as he looked on, and in a few moments Pinkie reappeared with a broom, a dustpan, and a towel. The two older ponies exchanged smiles. Pinkie handed him the towel, and Macintosh used it to get as much of the flour off as he could, everything except for Pinkie’s art covering his side. He wanted to keep that, if only for a few minutes longer.

Afterwards, Big Macintosh got up and helped Pinkie clean. The two made quick work of the mess and once the floor was completely free of dust and flour Pinkie and Macintosh rejoined the twins in their little play area.

Pinkie played a bit with the foals: showing them toys and trying to gain their interest, or making funny faces at them. Sometimes they reacted, but mostly they did whatever they felt like. Macintosh just watched with a small smile all the while, until Pinkie suddenly turned to him.

“So did working make you feel better Macky?” she asked.

Macintosh was a bit surprised at the question, seemingly coming out of nowhere. He quickly recovered. “Eeyup,” he said with a genuine smile. His answer was honest...almost. While work did make him feel better in the past two weeks, it was simply because it was more a distraction, rather than a solution, from the feelings he had since coming back from the camping trip. He didn’t mind, it was all he could really ask for.

Pinkie Pie smiled back at him and turned back to the twins. “That’s good. It makes me happy when my friends smile.”

He looked down at the hardwood floor, feeling a pang of guilt. Though from what he wasn’t sure. All he knew is that if his smile made Pinkie happy then he would go on smiling. It was the least he could do. He wanted to tell her so, but his own hesitation and the sound of a door opening stopped him.

“The tasters are here,” Pinkie said. She raised a hoof in the air and waved. “We’re over here.” Macintosh nodded and silently wondered who Pinkie had asked to help.

He didn’t have long to wait as Rarity and Rainbow Dash entered the living room. He wondered if it wasn’t too late to run away. The last thing he wanted to do was explain why he ignored them for two whole weeks. He couldn’t distance himself physically, but he could still concentrate on playing with the twins and pretend he hadn’t seen them yet. It might be okay if they were the first to talk. That way he could gauge how mad they were at him.

“Hey guys,” Pinkie said, the first to get up and greet them, “the cupcakes should be ready. All I have to do is wait for them to cool and then whip up the icing. Oh! And Macky made an apple pie for the contest so we can taste that too.”

“Wait? Mac’s here?” Rainbow Dash asked, causing him to tense up.

“Yeah! Isn’t it great? Anyway, the apple pie should be ready soon too. Be right back.” When she finished her onrush of words she hopped happily into the kitchen and left Macintosh alone with the two mares and the twins.

He continued to avoid eye contact, and just watched as Pumpkin tried to use her hooves to grab the sprig of wheat hanging from his mouth.

“Hey Mac, haven’t talked to ya in, like, weeks,” Rainbow Dash said as she approached the stallion. For the first time Macintosh turned to her. She had an uncertain smile, lopsided and half-hearted. “Been busy?”

“Eeyup,” Big Macintosh said.

“I suppose you’ve been eager to get back to work since your injuries healed,” Rarity said timidly.

“Eeyup.”

“That’s very lovely artwork,” Rarity said as she pointed to his side.

“Eeyup, Pinkie made it.”

“It reminds me of a painting I once saw,” she said quietly.

The three shared an awkward silence between them, and Big Macintosh turned his focus back to the twins in order to escape some of the discomfort. Rarity did the same.

“Well aren’t you just precious!” Rarity said as she picked up Pumpkin. As soon as she was lifted off the ground the foal started to wail. The three older ponies flinched before Rarity gathered enough sense to quickly place her back on the rug. It didn’t do any good, and soon both of the Cake twins were bawling their little lungs out.

“Geez, Rarity,” Rainbow said over the sound of their crying.

“What?” Rarity said.

“You ain’t supposed to bother a foal when they’re bein’ quiet, especially when they ain’t doin’ anything harmful,” Macintosh said.

“Well I didn’t know that.”

“What about when Sweetie Belle was younger?” Macintosh asked.

“I moved out shortly after she was born.”

No sooner had Rarity spoken than Pinkie came rushing into the living room. “What happened?” she asked.

“Rarity happened.” Rainbow said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get the flour!” Pinkie said, but before she could turn around towards the kitchen, Big Macintosh raised a hoof to stop her. The last thing he wanted was to be covered in flour again, especially since he still had Pinkie’s art drawn on his side.

He stood up and looked at the crying foals. That fear came back, but he swallowed it down. Slowly, he brought his head toward Pound. In a single motion he lifted the little pegasus onto his snout. The sudden movement surprised the foal and momentarily stopped his crying. Before the baby pegasus could continue, Macintosh lifted his head high and gently but quickly brought it down as if it were falling. Pound’s wings reacted instantly and started flapping wildly in the air. Macintosh repeated the motion a couple of more times and by the fourth fall the foal stopped his crying and started laughing instead.

Satisfied, Macintosh lowered Pound into the crib and gave him the plastic hammer he was playing with earlier. The foal grabbed it and continued his play as if nothing ever happened.

Pumpkin proved a bit easier to deal with. All it took was taking the sprig of wheat out of his mouth, cleaning its end a bit on his foreleg and holding it out to her. She stopped her crying to look at the sprig for a few moments before grabbing it and biting its end. Not the most hygienic solution, Macintosh was willing to admit, but so long as it kept the peace. He carried her gently to the crib and sat her by her brother.

He turned around to see the three mares giving him looks of utter surprise. “Those cupcakes ready yet?” Macintosh asked, hoping to focus the rest’s attention away from him.

“Wow, where did you learn to do that, Macky?” Pinkie Pie asked with a grin.

“Beginner’s luck, Ah guess,” he said, walking into the kitchen. “Ah think the apple pie’s ready.”

“Yeah sure, beginner’s luck. You sure you don’t have a foal running around Ponyville somewhere?” Rainbow Dash asked with a snicker.

Big Macintosh tilted his head slightly in feigned thought. “Pretty sure,” he said. There was no sarcasm in his voice, only a touch of uncertainty.

It worked, and the smile vanished from Dash’s face. “Wait, what?”

“He’s obviously joking, Rainbow,” Rarity said. “Right, Macintosh?”

Mac only grunted noncommittally. Of course he was only joking, but Celestia knows teasing those two made him feel better. He looked around the kitchen until he found a thick cloth on the counter right beside a plate of Pinkie’s cupcakes, frosted and ready to be eaten. He bit at the cloth, opened the oven, and carefully took out his apple pie and placed it on the counter beside the cupcakes.

“Is it ready to taste?” Pinkie Pie asked.

“Ah’d like ta wait for an hour or two before we cut into it,” Macintosh said.

“Okie dokie lokie,” she said. “We can try mine until then.” She balanced the platter with her cupcakes on her hooves and brought it in front of the other three. Each cupcake was frosted with icing that swirled with the colors of the rainbow. The paper cups continued the swirl design seamlessly. When viewed at the right angle the separation of the frosting and the cup could hardly be seen.

Macintosh took one along with the other ponies. He carefully peeled back the paper to reveal a light-orange pastry with tiny specks of red in it. Experience told him the orange cinnamon cake would taste delicious, but he wasn’t so sure when it was combined with zap apple jam and cream cheese. He caught sight of Pinkie giving him an expectant smile and, putting aside his trepidation, he took a bite.

He chewed slowly to get a good taste. He felt the familiar spice of cinnamon mellowed by the sweetness of the orange cake. Then came the tartness of the cream cheese, and finally the tangy sweetness of zap apple jam. He didn’t know how she pulled it off, but it was downright delicious. Each flavor added to the dessert without overshadowing any of the others. He finished the rest of the cupcake, and this time he closed his eyes to enjoy the flavor more.

“Wow Pinkie, you’re gonna win for sure,” Rainbow Dash said as she took another cupcake for herself.

“I have to agree. They’re simply incredible. I’m sorry to say Macintosh, but you have stiff competition,” Rarity said.

Pinkie Pie giggled. “Oh don’t worry. They separated the contest into different categories so me and Mackie could both win.”

“Really?” Rarity said. “So how is the judging conducted?”

“Oh that’s easy. Um…” Pinkie tapped her chin. “Wait here,” she said. She went over to the other side of the kitchen and opened a drawer absolutely filled with papers. She rummaged through it until she found a light blue brochure. She smiled and brought it to the others waiting nearby. She placed it on a table and opened it. “Here we go!” Pinkie said as she placed a hoof on one of the pages. “There are three different judges for each category and they judge desserts by Taste, Originality, and Presentation. Taste is worth ten points and the other two are worth five,” she said with a vigorous nod.

“Don’t change a thing,” Rainbow said, “you got this in the bag.”

“Thanks, Dashie,” Pinkie said with a giggle.

“Hey Mac, is your pie ready yet?” Dash asked.

“It’s hardly been ten minutes,” he said.

“Aw c’mon, is it that important to let it rest?”

Macintosh rolled his eyes and acquiesced. “Pinkie ya got a pie server?” he asked. She nodded and quickly rummaged through a nearby drawer. She found what he needed and gave him the triangular spatula. Mac thanked her and took it to cut the pie, the crisp sound of the crust almost echoed through the kitchen, though that might just have been his imagination.

He cut the first slice and carefully placed it on a plate that Pinkie had readied for him. The slice looked absolutely perfect. The apples were layered uniformly and the filling was not too thick or too thin. Not to mention the flaky crust. Two more slices followed and everyone except Macintosh had their own plate.

“Any ice cream or anything?” Dash asked.

Macintosh chuckled. “Why don’t ya taste it first and then decide if ya want anythin’ else on it.”

Dash only shrugged and took a bite, and Macintosh could only smile as her eyes widened. “Damn,” was all she could say before hurriedly shoving as much as she could fit in her mouth.

Spurred on by her reaction Rarity followed suit. She grabbed a fork with her magic and took her own bite. Her reaction was about the same, and her fork fell to the ground. Her cheeks turned a slight red as she levitated it again and placed it on the counter. “It’s very delicious, Macintosh,” she said.

To his surprise, Pinkie still had her entire slice intact. She looked at it with scrutinizing eyes, holding the plate as she stood on her hind legs. Finally she took a bite, closed her eyes and fell to her knees. She recovered quickly with a bounce. “Can I have the recipe?” she asked.

“Nnope.”

“Please please please please please please please!”

“Sorry, Pinkie, but it’s a secret family recipe. Ya gotta be an Apple ta know it.”

Pinkie rubbed her chin in thought for a moment before her eyes brightened with an idea. “Macky, will you-“

“No, Pinkie,” Macintosh interrupted.

“Aww…”

“Macintosh, if I may,” Rarity said as she helped herself to another slice, “while I think your apple pie is lovely, you may be able to improve on it.”

“Eeyup,” Mac said. “Ah ain’t so full of myself that Ah think it’s perfect. Heck, you should taste Granny Smith’s recipe.”

“No, I don’t mean that. The taste is fine, incredible in fact. I just think you need to…dress it up a little.” Big Macintosh only quirked an eyebrow at her, and she continued. “Well, two-thirds of the judging is for originality and presentation. It might give your dessert an edge if you were to do something unexpected with it.”

“I hate to say it,” Rainbow Dash said, “but Rarity’s got a point. You got a put on a show, you know? Yeah it tastes good, really good, but it’s kind of…boring.”

Macintosh ran a hoof through his mane. “Look, Ah don’t know whose bright idea it was for food to ta be some fancy occasion, but so long as it tastes good and doesn’t look like somethin’ Winona threw up then Ah think it’s fine the way it is.”

“But Macintosh,” Rarity said gently, “surely you don’t think taste alone will-“

“Ah do. Last Ah checked this is a dessert contest, not some beauty pageant.”

“Mac, don’t take it personally,” Dash said, “but a competition always has those rules you hate. It’s like the obstacle courses I run in Cloudsdale. Yeah it sucks when I get the fastest time and then get extra time added ‘cause of all the times I crashed, but what can you do?”

He thought about it for a moment, and then shook his head. “Ah guess, but if Ah lose Ah’d like ta lose because the judges didn’t like my pie rather than because Ah tried ta do somethin’ that Ah did just ta impress them.”

“Fair enough,” Rainbow said with a shrug. “Pass me another slice will ya?”

-*-

The first rays of sunlight saw Macintosh, wearing his saddlebags, busily baking in the farmhouse kitchen with Applebloom by his side hoping to get a baking cutie mark again. She happily kneaded dough as she stood on the stool that Mac had placed by the counter for her to reach.

Macintosh was a bit surprised when she offered to help, especially when it was so early in the morning—and in the middle of summer no less. Not that he minded, in fact he was a bit happy to have her help and company. Applebloom draped the flattened dough over a couple of ceramic pie dishes and Big Macintosh scooped in the apples as Applejack walked in.

“You excited?” she asked as she patted his shoulder and ruffled her little sister’s mane.

“Eeyup.”

Applebloom giggled as she fixed her bow. “Do ya think you’ll win, big brother?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said, weaving dough into a lattice pattern on top of the pie just as he did yesterday, “with a bit a luck.”

Applebloom hummed in thought. She smiled as she took off her bow and handed it to her brother. “Here you go. It’s lucky, so you’ll win for sure.”

Macintosh took her bow with a bit of skepticism. If it were really lucky then wouldn’t Applebloom have her cutie mark by now? Still, if she said it was lucky who was he to argue? “Thanks, sugarcube,” he said. He placed the pink bow in his saddlebag with a smile before taking the pies and carefully putting them in the oven.

“You ain’t gonna wear it?” Applebloom asked sadly.

Big Macintosh was a bit taken aback, but he recovered quickly. “Sorry, sugarcube, but my mane’s too short to wear it.” An idea came to him and he retrieved the ribbon from his bag. “Hey AJ, ya mind gettin’ somethin’ so Ah can pin it on my harness?”

Applejack smiled. “Ah’ll do ya one better.” She flicked her mane and in one, practiced motion took off the band that held it together. Macintosh had to hold in a laugh as her mane started to fly all around her. She didn’t seem to notice as she started stretching the elastic band as far as it could go, which, Macintosh was surprised to find, was actually very far.

Applejack took the pink bow, undid it, and started retying it around her now completely overextended band. Once done, it looked almost like a necklace with Applebloom’s ribbon perfectly centered. Without so much as asking, Applejack slipped Big Mac’s head through it, and brought it down until it lied just above his harness. The bow, as a result, rested comfortably on the front of the harness itself. The makeshift necklace fit a bit snug, but other than that it didn’t bother him much.

“There. Ya can hardly see the tie around yer neck since it matches yer coat,” his sister said. “Ah’m gonna go get another tie before my mane knots up.’

Macintosh smiled. “Yer startin’ ta sound like Rarity.”

“You take that back,” Applejack said as she headed out the doorway.

“Now you’ll win for sure,” Applebloom said excitedly, “you have my bow and one of Applejack’s hair thingies. That’s a lotta luck.”

“It sure is, sugarcube,” Macintosh said, tapping the end of his nose against hers. Applebloom giggled and rubbed her nose with a foreleg. “Got anythin’ planned with yer friends?” he asked.

Applebloom shook her head. “Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo are spendin’ time with their parents, so Applejack’s gonna teach me how ta tell if a tree is sick.”

Macintosh didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Sounds like fun.” At that moment Applejack returned to the kitchen with a new tie holding together her mane.

“What sounds like fun?” Applejack asked.

“You teachin’ Applebloom how ta spot a sick tree,” Macintosh said. He lowered his head to take a peek at the pies. They were just about ready.

“Oh that? Yeah, Ah figured it’s about time she learn.”

“Need any help?” Macintosh asked.

“What about the contest?” Applebloom asked.

“Ah can cancel it if ya need me,” Mac said.

Applejack shook her head with a smile. “Nah, don’t worry about it. We’ll be fine without ya. You go an’ enjoy yourself.”

Macintosh nodded before grabbing a thick cloth and taking the pies out of the oven, one by one. He grabbed the matching ceramic lids and covered each pie with them, safely securing them. Afterwards Applejack helped him place each one in his saddlebags, careful to keep them standing right side up. The sudden heat on his sides made him a bit uncomfortable, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

“What time are ya meetin’ Pinkie at the train station?” Applejack asked.

“’bout an hour.”

“Ya better get goin’ then. The station’s clear on the other side of town,” she said. She reared up and gave him a hug. “Good luck, and don’t be afraid ta come back if ya don’t win.” She smiled softly, and Macintosh only gave her a quick nod.

“What about me,” Applebloom asked, holding out her forelegs towards her brother. Mac smiled and lowered his head so she could give him a hug of her own. He gently wrapped a foreleg of his own around her to return it. It didn’t last long enough for Big Mac, and when Applebloom let go he wanted to hold on for just a few moments longer. He knew he couldn’t, and so his foreleg dropped as well. With a sad smile he said a quick goodbye to each of his sisters and headed out the door.

“C’mon, Applejack, let’s go to the orchard,” he heard Applebloom say as he closed the front door. As he made his way into the morning sun and toward Ponyville and the station, a part of his heart twinged in pain, but he quickly forced it back.

The closer he came to the station the thicker the crowd of ponies became. There were so many—at least a hundred, if not more—and they were all bustling about the boarding platform. Everyone had saddlebags or boxes or wheeled carts with them, adding to the chaos of chatter, squeaking metal, and hoofclops.

Big Macintosh felt absolutely lost in the huge crowd, and he stood at its edge while taking a few steps away. Amongst the crowd, almost in the middle, he saw Pinkie Pie jumping high into the air, a large white box on her back, waving a hoof at him during her apex. He gulped as he realized he would have to make his way through the sea of ponies to get to her. Not an easy feat, as big as he was.

Hesitant steps into the crowd and repeated utterings of ‘pardon’ and ‘excuse me’ followed. He was careful not to bump into anyone, but he would always fail, and when he would turn his head to apologize to the pony he would inevitably bump into another. The process repeated itself until he was safely by Pinkie Pie’s side. Her smile and company made him feel better, an anchor amongst the bustling mass of ponies.

“Hey Macky,” she said, “nice bow. Did you bring two pies like I said?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said, “still can’t figure why, though.”

She grinned. “One for the judges and one for everypony else, silly. That way they won’t want to take a nibble from your entry.”

Well, he supposed that made sense. “Lotta ponies out here,” he said, looking around the platform.

“I know, right?” Pinkie said with a hop. “I guess they must have passed out that brochure to everypony in Ponyville. If we’re not all careful there could be a huge accident and have a giant dessert and pony pileup.”

A blaring horn and ringing bell overtook Mac’s laugh as the train pulled into the station and stopped with the sound of hissing air. He looked on as the train doors opened and ponies started filing out. Macintosh took a quiet step back as the crowd got even bigger and ponies tried to enter the train as others left it. He felt Pinkie tap his shoulder to get his attention, and it centered him a bit.

“Let’s go, Macky,” she said, walking towards one of the open doors. He followed close behind. They entered a train car near the caboose, and Macintosh wasn’t surprised to find it filled with ponies as well. There were no benches or even pillows for them to sit on. The only furniture were a few tables bolted to the floor.

Pinkie Pie placed her white box on one of the tables, and instantly called out to someone she recognized in the crowd. She started talking happily to a donkey he never met, leaving him alone. He couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of her love of large gatherings.

Macintosh chomped down on his spear of wheat and sat by a window slightly removed from everyone else. He stared out of it, hoping for a quick train ride. All the while, he wondered just what exactly he had got himself into.

-*-

That year the National Dessert Competition was being held in the royal castle’s courtyard. Several water fountains stood in the garden, each with the usual sculptures: a pegasus lifting off, a unicorn casting a spell, and an earth pony standing still. Surrounding each one were bushes and flowers of several colors. They filled the air with their sweet fragrance that mixed with the smell of freshly baked bread. The weather was perfect for an outdoor event, and not a cloud could be seen in the sky. Dozens of pavilions, gazebos, tents, awnings, and canopies stood throughout the garden to provide shade.

Amongst all this were ponies, griffons, donkeys, mules, and various others delicately setting up their desserts. Macintosh could have sworn that each one he passed was more elaborate than the last. Towers of cakes, fully scaled gelatin models of Equestrian cities, finely crafted flowers made of meringue, fondant covered pastry sculptures of royalty and great ponies of old; they were all present. Suddenly, Macintosh felt quite inadequate with his simple apple pie. He shook his head to get rid of the thought. This was the Apple Family World Famous Apple Pie. The contest hadn’t seen anything yet. Though the crowd made it difficult for him to get into the right state of mind.

Big Macintosh couldn’t remember the last time he was in a crowd this big. Sure, he didn’t have much of a problem with a group of ponies if he knew most of them, or they were a part of his family, but being around so many strangers was unnerving. He silently wanted to go back to his farm, where it was empty and quiet and he could be left alone with his own thoughts. Thoughts that were kept private simply because no one asked for them.

“Ooo, fancy,” Pinkie Pie said as she and Macintosh walked towards their assigned table, number three. He kept close to Pinkie’s side all the while. Finally they saw the table, a large sign with a number three hanging from its front, and began to set up.

The table already had the essentials, some dessert plates, a pile of napkins, and a pie server for Macintosh. So all he had to do was grab one of his pies from his saddlebag, uncover it, and place it on the tabletop. While Pinkie Pie’s set up was a bit more elaborate.

She gently lowered the container on her back to the ground, opened it up, and started rummaging through it. She took out a few pieces of plastic and started putting them together to create a stand for her cupcakes. It was pretty simple, only four tiers and in the rough shape of a cone since the circular platforms became smaller closer to the top. She started taking out cupcakes from the box and arranging them on her stand, carefully lining up the rainbow colors so the whole piece seemed to flow naturally from top to bottom.

“Get ready Macky,” Pinkie said with a large grin, “this is the part where everypony starts asking for something to eat. That’s why you can’t put all of your dessert out all at once.” With a sneaky gesture of her hoof she lead Macintosh’s gaze to the white box, “I still have twenty left.”

Macintosh only nodded and gave her a smile, mentally preparing himself to greet ponies looking for a tasty dessert. He grabbed the pie server and eagerly started cutting the pie into eighths. This was the moment he would shine. He knew, without a doubt, no one had a recipe as delicious as his.

Soon enough a large gathering of ponies formed around their table, just as Pinkie had said. Except…they all wanted a bite of her rainbow frosted cupcakes. Almost every pony, without fail, would give his apple pie a passing glance before moving on. Pinkie, sweetheart she was, tried to talk some ponies into trying a piece, but some politely refused or ignored her altogether or didn’t even hear her before moving on. All the while Macintosh just looked like an idiot, forcing himself to smile no matter how many ponies passed without giving him notice.

Within the hour Pinkie’s cupcakes had all been eaten while Macintosh still had his whole pie left. With the orange-cinnamon pastries gone, ponies stopped coming. He supposed he should have been expecting this. He was just some farmer who wandered off into the royal courtyard, only yards away from where the two most powerful ponies in all of Equestria lived, and into a contest he had no business being in.

“Pinkie,” he said, turning to her, “there any place out here that ain’t so crowded?”

Pinkie Pie looked at him, her smile gone, and her eyes fell to his dessert still sitting on the table. “I’m sorry no one tried your apple pie, Macky.”

He forced himself to chuckle and waved a hoof at her, as if dispelling the thought. “It ain’t that. What do Ah care if a few ponies missed out on the best thing they’ll ever eat. Ah just wanna get some fresh air.”

Pinkie Pie nodded though still didn’t smile. “Okie dokie lokie, and once we get there I could talk, or not talk…whichever makes you feel better.”

“Pinkie, Ah already told ya that wasn’t it.”

She ignored him and climbed onto the table. She placed a hoof on her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun as she scanned the courtyard. Finally her eyes brightened and her smile returned as she spotted something off in the distance.

“Oh! Oh! C’mon Macky,” she said happily as she jumped off the table and started pulling on his hoof, “there’s a pony I want you to meet.”

Macintosh took a step back. “Ah don’t know, Pinkie, Ah just wanna get some fresh air.”

“Don’t worry, there’s plenty of fresh air over there, and I know you’ll like her. Let’s go!” she said as she pulled harder on his foreleg. Finally he gave in with a small groan and followed her through the crowd. As they pushed their way through, Macintosh noticed that the mass of ponies seemed to thin out the farther they walked, and he couldn’t help but feel a little better. The sound of music started to float through the air, and Macintosh could identify a few string instruments playing a calming tune. Macintosh smiled as he listened. Though it was countered by an extraordinarily pungent smell.

The crowd finally fell away completely and Macintosh was left with a view of a string quartet playing on a slightly raised platform. Nearby were a few portable bathrooms, and Macintosh realized why there weren’t many ponies around.

The music drifted to an end, and Pinkie clopped her hooves on the ground in applause. Big Macintosh joined her. The performers took a quick bow, and Pinkie went toward the little stage, gesturing for Mac to follow her. He did, reluctantly.

“Hey, Octavia!” Pinkie said while waving towards the cellist, a mare with a light black mane and a lighter coat somewhere between brown and gray. The musician lowered her bow and gave Pinkie a nod. “I’d like to introduce you to Mack-uh-Big Macintosh Apple,” Pinkie said as she pointed to Mac.

“Big Macintosh?” Octavia said with a small chuckled. “I could think of a few reasons they gave you that name.”

He smiled, despite himself. “Eeyup, an’ Ah’ve heard ‘em all. That was some beautiful music y’all were playin’.”

“Of course it was,” she said with a deft twirl of her cello, “though I always enjoy praise.”

“Hey Octavia,” Pinkie piped up, “do you have time to taste some of our desserts?”

“Have you seen where they so graciously placed my ensemble?” she said as she gestured to the portable bathrooms. “I honestly hope there are sinks in those things, or we’ll have ponies with brown on their teeth, and not from any chocolate icing.”

She turned to the other members of a string quartet. “I’m not wasting anymore time playing to a smell. Wrap it up.” The others muttered their agreement and started putting away their instruments, and Octavia did the same. She placed her cello in its case and placed it on her back, a strap going over her right shoulder and beneath her left foreleg kept it in place. “Show me the way,” she said as she hopped off the platform.

“Ya need any help with that?” Macintosh asked.

“Yes, but I rather hold onto it,” she said. Mac just nodded, and they both followed Pinkie back to their table.

“Big Macintosh,” Octavia said, “I suppose you’re part of the dessert contest, given your preferences.”

“My preferences?” Mac repeated, and Octavia pointed to the pink bow on his harness. He chuckled. “Oh that. That’s just a good luck charm from my little sister.”

“Is that so?” she said, giving him a curious little smirk.

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said, ignoring her smile.

They returned to their table to find everything just as they had left it. Pinkie bounced toward Mac’s apple pie and placed a slice on a plate, which she gave to the musician. “Here you go, Octavia. Mac made it.”

She eyed the slice of pie carefully. She shrugged and tried a taste. Immediately her eyes lit up and she smiled before taking another bite. “This is incredible. Big Macintosh would you mind baking two more, sometime next week? My friends and I gather for a bit of talk and drinks and there’s a little cyst of a lyrist that I would love to slap across the face with one of your pies. Figuratively, of course. Though perhaps a bit literally as well. Hmm, perhaps I should order three...”

“Well, sure, Ah’d be happy to,” Macintosh said. “Ah figure ya might want me ta pretty it up?”

“Unnecessary,” Octavia said. “It looks a bit plain, I won’t lie, but some of the most soul-stirring compositions are the most simplistic. I’m honestly surprised there’s still any left.”

Macintosh was about to respond, but before he could a new voice interrupted him. “Apple? Is that you?” A quiet groan escaped Mac. He recognized that voice. He turned to look at the prince, looking almost exactly the same as when he met him during the art viewing.

“It’s so nice to see you again,” Blueblood said with little sincerity. His eyes lowered to Mac’s harness. “Lovely bow,” he said dryly.

“Howdy, Blueblood,” Macintosh said, not bothering to try and sound enthusiastic.

“Oh! You’re Prince Blueblood?” Pinkie Pie asked. “Hi! I don’t think you know me but I-“

“I know exactly who you are,” the prince said. “You’re the one that caused all that havoc at the Grand Galloping Gala. Consider yourself lucky I didn’t have you arrested.”

Pinkie Pie giggled as if Blueblood had told a joke. “It sure was fun, though. Are you going to the next one? I know I am.”

“In that case I won’t be,” Blueblood said.

“So what the heck are ya doin’ here?” Macintosh asked.

“Don’t you know? Well, I expected as much from a backwoods hick,” Blueblood said with a sneer. “We’re competing in the same category, and judging by your sad excuse for a dessert, I would say you’re outmatched.”

Macintosh smirked. “Outmatched, huh? Ah can’t even think of what you would make for the contest. Ah kinda imagine a bowl of burnt orange slices ya painted so they look pretty.”

“Or perhaps nothing but eaten fruit and bread vomited into a trifle dish,” Octavia added.

“That’s quite enough,” Blueblood said with a small growl.

“Yes, it is,” Octavia said, “so please leave. I don’t have any time to bother with a maggot-filled blister.” Big Macintosh was actually impressed. Not so much with what she said but how she said it. There was absolutely no malice in her voice. In fact it was rather pleasant, as if she was having a delightful conversation over tea.

“What?” Blueblood said, glaring at the mare. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Why yes,” she said, “you’re the royal pain chewed out by a prissy fashion designer from Ponyville. Now please go away before you use up all of our air, and don’t come back until you’ve found a way to exhale oxygen and thus become an actual benefit to society.”

The prince didn’t have anything to say, and just stood mouth agape. He regained some of his composure and managed to stutter and spit as he tried to give a response. He finally gave up, and with a scoff walked off.

“That was mean!” Pinkie said as she watched the prince go.

“I’m well aware of that, Pinkie,” Octavia said. “That’s why I said it. Even if I were nice he would still be a sickly menstrual stain of a pony.”

“But if we’re only nice to ponies that are nice to us then mean ponies will always be mean, and they’ll even get meaner because no one’s nice to them. Maybe Prince Blueblood wouldn’t be so bad if someone tried to be nice to him. Maybe he’s so mean because he’s sad and doesn’t have a friend,” Pinkie said.

Octavia rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure that’s it. I’m sure Blueblood cries himself to sleep every night in his luxurious mansion with servants catering to his every whim. Your naivety is endearing.”

“Ya know Miss Octavia,” Mac said, hoping to divert the conversation, “Ah’d be more offended by ya if ya didn’t say all those mean things like you were tellin’ a pony ‘good morning’.”

“It’s simply Octavia, and it’s a quality brought over from my upbringing,” she said as she held out her empty plate towards him. “Another slice, please.”

“Yer upbringing?” Mac said. He grabbed his pie server and placed another piece on her plate.

“That’s right. Perhaps we can learn more about our upbringings while on a date,” she said before taking a bite of pie.

Macintosh chuckled. “Pretty straight forward, ain’t ya?”

“I dislike beating around the bush like a self-conscious school filly in the throes of puberty. Much easier to take a direct approach.”

“Ah gotta admire that,” Macintosh said. “Still, Ah’m catchin’ a train back ta Ponyville right after the contest. If yer ever in Ponyville, though, feel free ta look me up.”

“The same goes for me if you’re ever in Canterlot.”

“Why even wait?” Pinkie asked with a giggle. “You two could go around and try the different desserts. Judging doesn’t start for an hour or so.”

“Well, I think that would be all right,” Octavia said with a smile toward the farmpony.

Mac was a little less eager. “You sure, Pinkie? You’d be all alone.”

Pinkie smiled. “I’m not alone, silly, I have hundreds of ponies to talk to,” she said with a gesture towards the immense crowd. Macintosh couldn’t even fathom being so willing to immerse himself in a crowd and strike up conversation with a random pony. “So go, go, go!” Pinkie said, shooing them off.

“Ah’m goin’, Ah’m goin,” Mac said with a smile. “You comin’ Octavia?”

“Of course.”

-*-

The late afternoon sun hung lazily in the air as the pair of ponies looked at the dessert-lined tables that sprawled on for what felt like miles. The date was going well so far, they simply talked and tasted and enjoyed each other’s company.

“So how do ya know Pinkie?” Mac asked before eating a chocolate covered profiterole. The cream filling was a bit too sweet for his liking, almost like eating nothing but sugar.

“The same way Blueblood knows her, I was at the Gala when she struck. I was angry at first, but once I got to know her I found pleasant company, if not a bit…spastic. And you? It seems as if you two are close friends.”

“She’s more my sister’s friend. I sorta just got caught up with her, I suppose.”

“Were you not listening? I was ‘caught up with her’ as well, and I still consider her a friend. She set you up on a date with me, I would consider that worthy of friendship.”

“That depends on how this date goes,” Macintosh said with a smirk.

“Very true,” she said with a smile of her own. “So what is it that you do when you’re not entering dessert competitions?”

“My family owns an’ runs Sweet Apple Acres. I mostly do farmwork…mostly.”

“Sweet Apple Acres? I’ve heard of it. A friend of mine gave me a bottle of your cider once. It was almost as delicious as your apple pie.”

Macintosh smiled. “If yer ever around Ah’d be glad ta show you our other products. Not a lot of ponies from Canterlot have tried our apples, might be good for business if that changed,” he said as he continued along the path. “Why don’t ya tell me about that upbringin’ you were talkin’ about earlier?”

“Not much of a story,” Octavia said as they came upon a table giving out miniature Mont Blanc cakes. Octavia took one and tried a bit. She stared at the dessert for a few seconds before placing it back on the table and leading Macintosh to the next. “I found my first cello in a dumpster behind a music shop here in Canterlot. A cheap thing, plywood with only one string. I remember trying to ebb out every single note I could from that one string as a filly. I got the other three about a year later, worked my way through college, and here I am.”

“That can’t be all there is to it,” Mac said. They stopped in front of a table giving out what looked like a key lime pie, but stacked in much the same way as a layer cake.

She chuckled as she took a slice. “Well, I don’t want to give it all up on the first date.”

“Fair enough,” Mac said with a laugh. “So how’d ya come by insultin’ ponies so calmly?” he asked, taking a slice as well.

“The world of musical performance is highly competitive, and ponies will do anything to throw their rivals for a loop. I’ve found that slipping poison through a sweet voice does well to unnerve a pony.” Octavia smiled and took a bite of the key lime layer cake. “I’m going to get fat with all these desserts,” she said.

Macintosh was about to respond with a quip but was interrupted by a voice coming over the loudspeakers. “Contestants, judging will begin in fifteen minutes,” it said.

“Looks like we’ll have to cut our date short,” Octavia said. “I should get going as well, I have another event to play tomorrow and I’d like to start practicing.”

Macintosh nodded. “It was nice spendin’ time with ya.”

“Likewise,” she said with a smile. “My offer still stands.”

“Mine too.” The ease with which he said it surprised even him. Heck, his whole attitude toward Octavia surprised him. It took a while to build this rapport with any of Applejack’s friends, but maybe that was why it was so easy. For once he was talking to a mare that had minimal connection to Applejack or her friends, just a small friendship with Pinkie Pie. Octavia didn’t know what he went through in the past several weeks, she didn’t know his faults or his past, and, rightfully, didn’t care. For once he was just talking to a pretty mare without the worry of having her scrutinize his every move as if examining a clue that might decipher some code. Of course, she could very well be doing that, but he actually didn’t care. It wasn’t as if he would be seeing her again any time soon.

Octavia chuckled and waved a goodbye. She adjusted her cello case over her back and went on her way. Macintosh watched her go. He shook his head with a smile. High-class mares, he had to figure out whether it was the accent or the harness. Macintosh made his way through the crowd, that uneasiness from before slowly growing, until he heard a familiar voice that made him feel better.

“Hey Macky,” she said, waving him over to their table. “How’d your date go?” she asked with a wriggle of her eyebrows, which Macintosh promptly ignored.

“It went good…really good. We talked for a bit. She seems interestin’.”

Pinkie giggled. “See? I knew you’d like her. You two are a lot alike.”

“How so?” he asked.

“You’ll see,” she said.

Macintosh decided not to go any further, and instead started setting up the other pie for the judges to taste. Just as before, he started slicing it into eighths and placing each piece on a plate. He had put the last slice on the last plate when he heard a pony clear his throat.

Macintosh jerked his head up and saw a trio of ponies, a stallion and two mares, standing in front of his table. Each one looked prim and proper, and their expressions revealed nothing of their emotions. The judges, Mac supposed.

He didn’t say anything and gently pushed a plate forward to each of the judges. They each took a bite, and Macintosh was relieved to see the faintest glimmer of a smile grace their faces. Without another word or another taste, they set down their plates and went along their way. Macintosh sighed in relief as they left. Though he quickly realized something.

“How come they didn’t try any of yer cupcakes?” he asked.

“The judges for each category are different, silly. The ones for sweet breads already came and tasted mine.”

Mac nodded as he remembered. “So how are they gonna do the award ceremony?”

Pinkie tapped her chin in thought. “According to the brochure, each category has it’s own award ceremony and they all start at the same time. Oh look!” Pinkie said as she pointed toward a large banner with the word ‘Custard’ printed on it in elaborate cursive. “That must be where the award ceremony for the custard category is being held.” She continued to look around the courtyard, trying to find more banners. Her eyes brightened and she pointed a hoof towards one end of the garden. “There’s where I need to go. Oh! And there’s where you need to go,” she said, pointing to the other side. “We better hurry.”

Macintosh couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy when he realized that their respective ceremonies were being held on two opposite sides of the massive courtyard. Pinkie seemed to sense his discomfort and patted his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile.

“You’ll be fine, Macky. Trust me.”

Macintosh did, and so he swallowed his fear and gave her a nod. Her smile widened and she gave him a hug, one that he quickly pushed away from. “Let’s get goin’ then,” Macintosh said quietly.

Pinkie Pie nodded and happily bounced toward her banner, while Macintosh slowly made his way to his own. His experience in the crowd went much the same way as the time at the train station, and Mac was relieved when he made it to his banner. He was content with standing at the outskirts of the crowd eagerly whispering amongst each other. A unicorn stallion, standing in front of a large rectangular object covered by a white sheet, called everyone to attention and started a speech welcoming those who participated.

Finally it came down to announcing the winners, and he started by announcing third place. A griffon Macintosh never heard of walked to the front of the crowd toward the speaker and took her yellow ribbon. Macintosh did, however, recognize the name called for second place. No other than Prince Blueblood himself.

When his name was called the prince swaggered with a smug smirk towards the front and took a red ribbon, giving the crowd a bow as he did. He stood next to the griffon, giving off an air of superiority so intense Mac had to wonder whether the prince realized there was still first place to be called.

The crowd waited silently for the speaker to announce first place, and Macintosh couldn’t help but stomp his hooves against the ground in excitement. The unicorn stallion finally took and a breath and said…a name that wasn’t Mac’s. An earth pony mare happily trotted up and took her blue ribbon before standing next to Blueblood.

The audience gave their polite applause. “To the rest,” the speaker said, “you may view your scores on the chalkboard behind me.” The white sheet was taken off by a couple of ponies and revealed the scores of everyone that had participated. Macintosh’s mood lightened a bit. Though he didn’t win a ribbon, perhaps he got a respectable place.

Macintosh scanned the names to look for his own. His heart sunk when his eyes started going lower and lower until he finally found his name. ‘Big Macintosh Apple’: dead last. He looked at his scores. Originality: zero. Presentation: zero. Taste: eleven.

Could they even do that? He supposed so, though he couldn’t help but think that if he didn’t come dead last they wouldn’t have done it, lest the judges deal with a few angry ponies crying for fairness. He looked at the name just above his, a name he didn’t know. They had twelve points: four in each. Then his eyes went to the very top. The winner had full points in presentation and originality and eight in taste. Macintosh then looked for Blueblood’s name. Before he could find it, the pony in question walked up beside him.

“Second place, not too bad if I do say so myself,” Blueblood said smugly. “I can’t help but notice that you came in dead last, with a pity point on top of that.”

Macintosh ignored him for a few seconds. He found the prince’s name and looked at the score. He had full points in presentation, four in originality, and seven in taste. Macintosh sighed and smiled softly, he knew when he’d been beat. He was kind of expecting it anyway. All he could do now was accept it gracefully, and perhaps take Pinkie Pie’s advice and be a bit nicer to the prince.

“Congratulations, Blueblood. What did ya make?” Mac asked.

“Ha! I thought you might-uh-excuse me?” Blueblood said, completely confused. “Oh, well, thank you. I made a tropical fruit tart with strawberries, kiwis, and mangos, topped off with a bit of mascarpone.”

“Sounds good,” Macintosh said with an honest smile. “Ah’d like ta try some if there’s any left.”

“You would?” Blueblood said, taking a small step back as he raised an inquisitive eyebrow toward the farmpony. “There is some left...and…perhaps I could try a bit of your apple pie.” His voice was quiet. “But only because you were lucky enough to have the highest score in taste for our category,” he quickly added.

“Great, lead the way,” Macintosh said.

Blueblood hesitated for a split second until he gave the red stallion a nod and led him to his table.

-*-

Big Macintosh had to admit Blueblood’s tart was pretty damn good. He didn’t know what mascarpone was but he liked it. Blueblood had even tried a slice of Mac’s apple pie and said it was...decent. Pinkie Pie had taken the blue ribbon, of course, and happily joined the two in finishing their desserts.

All in all, Pinkie and Macintosh left the competition in high spirits. Even so, as Macintosh boarded the train and got out of the warm night air he couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at the results of the competition.

He and Pinkie boarded in a front train car this time since there was no more room in coach to fit them. The inside was compartmentalized for privacy. Not only for the comfort of the passengers but also because first class contained the roomettes, seats that could easily convert to bunk beds for those longer trips.

Mac didn’t mind one bit and closed the screen door at the first opportunity. He threw off his saddlebags, the ceramic clanging loudly as he did. Then he took off his harness and the good luck necklace and placed them on top of his saddlebags. With a sigh he sat down, leaned against the cushioned back, and stared out of the big picture window at the scenery passing by.

“What’s wrong, Macky?” Pinkie asked, sitting across from him.

“It’s nothin’,” he said quietly.

“Is it because you lost?” she asked.

“A little.”

Pinkie nodded before getting up and leaving the compartment, closing the screen door behind her.

Macintosh figured she was just fed up with dealing with him. He didn’t mind. Heck he would probably do the same thing if he had to put up with himself. He knew why he wasn’t feeling his best, he just couldn’t do anything to stop feeling that way. He hated not having any control over his emotions. He knew why he was depressed, so why couldn’t he do anything to stop it? Probably because what was making him so was out of his control. His eyes wandered away from the window and towards the pink bow. He stared at it for a few seconds until he refocused on the moving landscape outside.

The door slid open and Pinkie Pie stepped back into the roomette. She sat back down and held her blue ribbon to him. Macintosh stared at it, then looked up to Pinkie. She was smiling, but her eyes seemed so sad. He hated being the cause of that sadness.

Slowly he raised his hooves and took the ribbon. The number one embossed on the ribbon was crossed out with black ink. Right beneath it were the words ‘Best Tasting Ever’. He stared at the rushed writing for a few long moments, and he wiped his eyes with a foreleg. He dropped the ribbon, and pushed it back toward Pinkie.

“It ain’t that Ah lost, Pinkie. It’s how Ah lost,” he whispered.

“What do you mean?” Pinkie asked, matching his volume.

“Ah lost ‘cause Ah didn’t change anythin’ about my dessert. Yeah, Ah got points for taste, but Ah could’ve taken everythin’ if Ah had just listened to Rainbow Dash and Rarity and put a bit of flair inta it. Instead Ah just blew ‘em off. My way was the way it was always done so Ah thought that made it right.” He fought the urge to look back at Applebloom’s bow. “Ah’m just a stubborn good-fer-nothin’ that doesn’t know when ta let go of the past…and it cost me.”

“That isn’t true, Macky,” Pinkie said.

“It is.”

Pinkie Pie shook her head forcefully. “Remember what you said to Rainbow Dash? You said that if you were going to lose then you’d want to lose because of something you made, and not because you tried to do something just to make the judges like it. You weren’t being stubborn about not changing, you were being stubborn about who you were and you wanted to give the judges something that showed them you, and you is what they got.”

Pinkie Pie stood and took a few steps closer to Macintosh. When she spoke again, her voice was louder. “And if the judges didn’t like it, well boo on them. There are tons of ponies out there that’ll love your recipe even if it isn’t fancy. You know what? There are tons of ponies out there that’ll love it because it isn’t fancy. I know because I’m one of them.” She looked down at the blue ribbon on the floor and pushed it to him. “Take it, please. You deserve it.”

Macintosh smiled as he stared at the ribbon. He took it, and placed it beside the pink bow. His eyes never left them as he spoke. “Ah don’t deserve a friend like you, Pinkie.”

Quicker than he could blink, Macintosh felt a pair of forelegs wrap around his neck and a puffy mane press against the side of his head. He felt her nose nuzzle against him. “Ponies don’t have friends because they deserve them, Macky,” Pinkie said quietly, “they have them because they make everything better, the good and bad. A really, really great friend told me so.”

Macintosh was rendered speechless, and he could only stay still as Pinkie Pie embraced him. Finally some sense returned to him. Slowly he wrapped a foreleg around her and, Celestia help him, he hugged her back.

12. Far From Reach

Far From Reach

Macintosh woke up with a yawn and slowly forced a hoof up to close his room’s only window situated just above his headboard. The bed creaked and groaned as he slumped onto his hooves with a grunt of his own. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and went to fetch his harness from its usual hook beside his only shelf. Miss Smartypants sat beside the harness on the shelf, and beside her was his ‘Best Tasting Ever’ ribbon Pinkie had given him a handful of days ago. He smiled as he looked at it, only for his smile to shrink slightly as he refocused on his yoke. With a sigh he slipped it over his head and headed out toward the kitchen.

“Did I ever tell ya how I met yer granddaddy when he entered the very first National Dessert Competition?” Granny Smith asked him as he entered the kitchen to the smell of butter and pancakes.

Macintosh shook his head with a groan at yet another one of Granny’s stories. “Ya know, Ah’d like ta know more ‘bout gramps besides how ya met him,” he said. His eyes saw a bowl of apples on the table, and he grabbed one and started to eat his breakfast.

“Ya wanna know?” the elder mare asked before flipping a pancake. “Welp, he was a lot like yer mother, who was a lot like you. That’s their harness yer wearin’ after all. Course yer mama had ta put some cloth on the inside so it wouldn’t wobble ‘round so much,” she said with a laugh. “Ah kept teasin’ her ‘bout it, so yer granddaddy finally carved some wood to go inside it ta make it fit. Bless his heart. He loved his daughter more than anythin’. Any colt dumb enough ta court yer mother he threatened ta buck to the moon. Liked yer daddy, though. If only ‘cause he was dumb enough ta come back after his fifth buck to the nose and his third to the ribs.”

“Eeyup, ya told me that story,” Macintosh said, a bit dissatisfied with what she told him. “What Ah wanna know is how…how much were they like me?”

“Why the interest all a sudden?” Granny Smith asked.

“Just curious,” he said. “Ah’m gonna go do my chores, granny.” He moved towards the kitchen door leading outside, eager to get out into the fields and have a bit of time to think.

“Have some breakfast,” she called after him.

“Ah had an apple,” Macintosh said simply.

A thick blanket of cloud in the sky stretched on forever, and he felt a bit disappointed. Some sunshine would have helped him wake up and perhaps lift up his mood significantly. He didn’t often reminisce about what could be, at least not when there was work to be done. Then again, it wasn’t as if he had much work to do today. There was only a field to be plowed so Applejack could start planting sweet potatoes. A job usually reserved for him.

The work went along easily as always since his sister bought the new plow. It was annoying, even disgusting, how little effort it took. Maybe if he kept going like this he would lose most of his strength and he’d feel as if he was actually doing something.

His hooves stopped and the work was done not two hours after he begun. He shook his head in disappointment. He really needed something to occupy his time since farmwork couldn’t. Not anymore. Maybe he could get a second job somewhere in Ponyville.

“How’s work goin’?” Applejack’s voice turned his head. She stopped beside him and took a quick scan of the freshly tilled field. Satisfied with the job done, she smiled.

“Good, Ah suppose,” Macintosh said while unhitching himself from the plow. “Just wish there was more ta do. Ah know ya told me ta ease up on the work but Ah got more than half the day free. Heck, even you don’t have that much free time.”

“It ain’t like there’s much work that’s gotta be done,” Applejack said. “You know well as me that summer ain’t our busiest time.”

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said, “but we still plant a few vegetables. Why don’t Ah help with that? Just give me the sweet potato seeds and Ah’ll get started.”

“Mac, don’t worry about it. Ah’m doing it,” Applejack said defensively.

“Then let me do something. Let me take out the weeds over in the west fields. They’ve been gettin’ outta control lately,” Macintosh said, his voice getting heated.

“Ah’ll take care of it,” Applejack retorted.

“When?”

“When Ah get to it!”

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you two,” Rarity’s voice rang out through the farm and halted their argument. They both looked over to her, and Macintosh noted that smile that always made him wonder what kind of scheme the fashion designer was cooking up.

“Ya didn’t think to check the farm first?” Macintosh asked while Rarity approached.

“It’s just somethin’ she says when she wants somepony to think she took a ton a time outta her day to look for ‘em,” Applejack said, not taking her eyes from the unicorn.

“Why would she want somepony ta think that?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at his sister.

“So she can guilt ‘em into doin’ something they won’t like.”

“If you two are quite done,” Rarity said with a scoff and a flick of her mane, “I came to take Macintosh to the boutique for a fitting.”

“A fitting?” Applejack asked with a raise of an eyebrow. “What for?” She looked to Macintosh for an answer, but he could only shrug.

“He hasn’t told you? I invited him to an outdoor picnic in Canterlot that takes place in two weeks,” Rarity said, and Macintosh couldn’t help but brace himself as Applejack burst into laughter.

“Well gee, sis, take ‘im if ya want, just make sure ta have him back by sundown,” she said with a snicker that caused Rarity’s face to flush red.

“Wait a minute,” Macintosh said, “What about the farm?”

The sound of beating wings cut Applejack’s answer short. Not soon after did Rainbow alight among them with a small thud as all her hooves hit the ground at once. She had her saddlebags on, and quickly greeted Rarity, Applejack, and Mac before turning to him with a grin so wide it looked painful.

“Hey Mac, guess who has an extra ticket to a Wonderbolts show today at Cloudsdale?” she asked, her voice full of glee.

Big Macintosh wasn’t much in the mood for guessing games. “You?”

“Eeyup,” Dash answered, “and guess who’s coming with me?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Applejack?” he asked, looking over to his sister.

Applejack shook her head. “She already asked me, and Ah already told her that I couldn’t go ‘cause Ah’m too busy with the farm.”

“You ain’t gotta be too busy if ya just let me help,” Mac said. The Apple siblings glared at each other. Neither of them backed off and he lost track of how long they scowled into each others eyes, daring the other to look away.

As if wanting to break the sudden tension, Dash spoke again. “Not Applejack, guess again.”

It was only with great reluctance that Big Mac broke eye contact and focused back on Dash. His staring contest with Applejack did little for his mood, and he decided to end Dash’s roundabout manner. “Ah give up. It’s either gonna be Rarity, Fluttershy, Twilight, or Pinkie Pie, and Ah ain’t in the mood to go through ‘em one by one.”

“Well it’s certainly not me,” Rarity said while her eyes narrowed at Rainbow Dash, “and I certainly wouldn’t come if you asked me. No offense meant, but stunt shows really hold no interest for me.”

“Don’t get all excited,” Dash deadpanned, “it’s not you. C’mon Mac, try harder. The Wonderbolts aren’t really Fluttershy’s thing, and Pinkie Pie’s really busy today at Sugarcube Corner. And have you ever gone to a show with Twilight? It’s all ‘terminal velocity’ this and ‘complete rotation on a longitudinal axis while following a helical path’ that. It’s not any of them.”

Macintosh bristled as the realization dawned on him. Why would Rainbow Dash be telling him all these things if he didn’t have anything to do with it? No doubt she intended to take him to see the Wonderbolts.

“No,” he said.

“Aww c’mon,” Dash said. “Why not?”

“Well first of all,” Rarity said before Macintosh could give his own answer, “he has an appointment with me to have his fitting done.” He did his best to hide the look of aversion threatening to break his usually stoic expression. It was nothing to do with Rarity, of course, but he couldn’t help but remember how little personal space he had been given the last time he was in the Carousel Boutique to have his measurements taken and that was when the two were only acquaintances. He couldn’t imagine how…familiar she might be now that they’ve known each other for a time, no matter how small it seemed to him. At all cost, he wanted to avoid finding out.

“Ah can’t go to the fitting,” he said to Rarity, the words almost coming out in a single burst. “Ah got work to do ‘round the farm.”

“No ya don’t.” He could only grit his teeth as Applejack quickly disagreed. He didn’t have to look at her to feel the glare she was giving him. “Like Ah said, Ah’m handlin’ the farm, so you ain’t gotta worry about it.”

“But Ah-“

“No buts,” Applejack cut him off, “if you stay here all yer gonna do is mope around and maybe take a nap, and the last thing Ah wanna see is yer sorry self staring at me like Ah stabbed ya in the back. So get goin’, Ah don’t care where.”

“Ah, well, uh,” Mac stuttered, his eyes going from Rainbow Dash’s grin to Applejack’s hard-set scowl. “Look, even if Ah wanted ta go to Cloudsdale, which Ah doubt earth ponies can even set hoof on, how the heck am Ah supposed to get there? Case ya hadn’t noticed Ah ain’t got wings back there.”

Rarity leaned her head, trying to get a good look of ‘back there’ as if confirming what he said was indeed the truth.

“We can take Twilight’s hot air balloon,” Dash said. “I already asked her and she said it was okay so long as we’re careful with it. We can go right now. The show starts in a few hours so we have plenty of time to get ready and stuff.” Seeing the hesitation still apparent on Big Macintosh’s face, she continued, “It’ll be fun, I promise. A thousand times more fun than pulling a plow or bucking some trees.”

Mac sighed. He knew better than to try and get his sister to allow him to do some work, that stubborn mare was nowhere near budging. He supposed she learned that from her big brother, but at least he knew enough to pick his battles. Rolling his jaw to position his stick of wheat to the other side of his mouth, he took a sideways glance at Rarity. Was there really any point in having his measurements taken again? It seemed to him that if he went into the Carousel Boutique all he’d get was a bunch of flirting that would make his cheeks go hot.

“Let’s go,” he said to Dash.

Her grin widened. He decided it wasn’t all that unpleasant.

With a nod goodbye to Applejack and Rarity, the latter not looking very pleased with him, Big Macintosh followed Dash down the path to Ponyville. She flew above him while doing a few loop-the-loops in the air, obviously excited at the prospect of watching her favorite flight team. A sudden thought came to him as they entered the outskirts of town.

“Say Dash,” he called out to her and caught her attention, flapping in the air as she looked down at him, “why do you like the Wonderbolts so much?”

“You’re kidding, right?” she asked. “I like them because they’re awesome.” She didn’t say anything more and continued her flight toward Twilight’s library. Macintosh knew he was going to have to be satisfied with such a superficial answer. It didn’t come as a surprise, he had to admit. He supposed being awesome was reason enough for Rainbow Dash to like anything.

The first thing Macintosh noticed when Twilight’s library came into view was the hot air balloon, inflated and ready to go, weighed down by bags of sand in front of the studious mare’s home. It stood almost as tall as the entire library, and Macintosh stared at it anxiously. This balloon was supposed to take him to Cloudsdale?

“Hey guys,” he heard Twilight’s voice call out from up above. He raised his head and saw her on the upper balcony, no doubt reading a book, though he couldn’t see any from his vantage point. Rainbow Dash saw her as well and landed beside her. “Come in, Macintosh, I’ll be right down,” Twilight said before she and Dash disappeared inside the building.

Big Macintosh entered the library and closed the door behind him. The soft sound of hoofsteps accompanied the two mares as they descended the stairs. Twilight wasted no time, and spoke as soon as all four hooves were on the main floor. “First thing’s first: a spell that’ll let you walk on and touch clouds.”

Twilight levitated a book from one of the various shelves in her expansive library. “Here it is,” she said. Macintosh’s response proved unneeded as she began casting her spell. He was a bit taken aback when his body became covered in the reddish glow of her magic. It was strange how much trouble it was to allow an earth pony or unicorn to actually walk on one of Equestria’s cities. Still, he supposed there really was no point in thinking about it too deeply. Either way, the ability to touch clouds was pretty nifty he had to admit.

He felt a bit tingly once she had finished casting the spell. It was a strange feeling, but it felt pretty good. Like a sort of warmth lightly touching every part of him. The brief moment of ease quickly deteriorated as he remembered himself and looked toward the two mares standing beside him. Particularly Twilight, who he hadn’t seen much in the past few weeks. It didn’t seem to bother her at all, and she carried along as if nothing ever happened.

“So Macintosh,” Twilight said, “I haven’t seen you out of the farm in a while. How’s…that puzzle going?”

Perhaps he spoke too soon.

“Ah’m still tryin’ ta figure it out,” he said casually so that Rainbow Dash wouldn’t pick up on anything, “still tryin’ ta flip over the pieces. They’re still lookin’ blank.”

“Oh well, I’m sure it’ll get easier,” she said, mustering up a small smile for him. He smiled back, grateful for her effort.

“Puzzles are so boring,” Rainbow Dash said while taking to the air and landing on Mac’s back. She rested her chin on his head and looked down at Twilight, bringing her front hooves to comfortably rest on his snout. “You want fun? Do a barrel roll at Mach speed, that’s fun.”

“Gettin’ pretty cocky there ain’t ya?” Macintosh said. He had to close an eye and squint the other as Dash’s forelegs pressed against them.

“What? I’m a pegasus. You know it’s true.”

Macintosh gave her an annoyed grunt. “Ah wasn’t talkin’ about that,” he said. “Less yer gonna buy me dinner, Ah suggest ya get offa me.”

“Oh, I have food here if you want to eat before you go,” Twilight said, pointing toward her kitchen.

Rainbow Dash and Big Macintosh could only stare at her.

“What?” Twilight asked.

Big Ma shook his head and then his whole body to get Dash off balance. It worked and she landed on the ground with a thump. Satisfied with his eased burden, he turned to look out the window at the hot air balloon just outside. He wished he could just get it done and over with. Every second spent staring at it was just another chance for his anxiety to grow. He hated to sound so stereotypical of both a farmer and an earth pony, but he honestly felt like he had no place amongst the sky and the clouds that made it their home. He much preferred the solid comfort of dirt beneath his hooves.

“That balloon gonna be okay to take us?” he asked no one in particular, never moving his eyes away from the window.

“It’ll be fine,” Rainbow Dash said. The fluttering of wings quickly followed the sound of her voice. The familiar weight of the pegasus on his back made his knees buckle a bit, just a tiny bit, and he narrowed his eyes in annoyance.

“What Rainbow said,” Twilight said. “Don’t worry, I taught her how to use it and everything.”

“Yeah,” the pegasus said. “Let’s get going. If we get there early we might run into some members of the Wonderbolts and they could give us some autographs. Hut two!” She softly struck a hindleg against his flank, jostling him forward. Macintosh rolled his eyes, shook himself again, and for the second time got Dash off his back.

-*-

Macintosh had to use every speck of willpower not to look down. As the wind whipped through his mane he kept his eyes firmly shut, and all the while he wished for the ride to be over as soon as possible. On top of that, the occasional turbulence from unexpected wind currents didn’t help his composure any.

“What’s wrong, Mac? Scared?” Dash said teasingly as she poked his side.

“Ah ain’t scared,” he said, eyes shut. “It’s just that if Ah was meant ta fly Ah would’ve been born a pegasus.”

“Aw c’mon. Look were almost there.You can see Cloudsdale from here.”

Slowly Macintosh opened his eyes and immediately the city of Cloudsdale came into his view. Its cloudscape almost glittered in the noon sun, setting it apart from the other clouds that were a lusterless gray. From his viewpoint he could see dozens of pillars and arches that seemed to be made from some smooth stone rather than the fluffy clouds he was used to. It seemed like a strange place to him. Smooth and rough, hard and soft. A city that looked as if a breeze could take it all away, yet so grand it felt absolutely timeless.

“It’s beautiful,” he said softly.

“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash sighed beside him. She shook her head to clear her mind and pulled down the cord that widened the opening at the top of the balloon, causing them to slowly descend for a landing.

As they came closer to the city, Macintosh noticed something in the far off distant on the other side of Cloudsdale. A mass of black clouds hovered in the sky, it was small but even so it seemed ominous amongst the glittering white of the cloud city. He tapped Rainbow Dash on the shoulder and nodded at the rain clouds.

“Probably the weather factory getting ready to deliver them somewhere around Equestria,” Dash said, waving off his concern.

Macintosh was ready to drop the issue when his ears pricked up as the heard the sound of low rolling thunder and rushing wind. By the way she was scanning the air around them, Rainbow Dash heard it too. All he could see was the same white fluff. Then he saw it zooming into view: a black cloud much like the ones on the other side of Cloudsdale. It rushed past the hot air balloon, leaving a trail of rain as it went. Following it were two pegasi in bright orange vests, they flew past without taking any notice to the balloon.

“What about that?” Mac asked.

Rainbow shrugged nonchalantly. “Probably put too much lightning in it, it happens. Makes the clouds go crazy.”

For some reason, Mac wasn’t so sure it was that simple, but he was in no position to tell her so. It wasn’t as if he had any experience with how the weather worked. Instead he watched the city became larger and closer with each passing second until he could swear the basket was only a few inches away from the ground, or at least what could be considered ground in a city of clouds. They hit a rough landing amongst some chariots and carriages right at the outskirts of the denser part of the city, he supposed it was some sort of lot for vehicles and such.

Rainbow Dash jumped out of the basket, propelled with a casual flap of her wings. Macintosh, however, decided to take his time. Looking at the pseudo-ground he wondered if Twilight’s spell would work, or if he would plummet hundreds of feet to his inevitable doom. No, he wouldn’t do that. He’d hate to think what kind of guilt Twilight would feel because of him.

He chuckled at the morbid thought. The change in altitude must be what was making him think such strange thoughts. Noticing Rainbow stare confusedly at him, he gave her a small smile meant to ease her mind and climbed out with a bit of difficulty.

“C’mon,” Rainbow Dash said with a smile, “the stadium’s only a quick walk away.” She didn’t wait for him to say anything and quickly headed toward the city at a brisk pace. Macintosh had to trot to catch up to her, and even then had to pick up the pace just to stay even with her. Why couldn’t she slow down? It’d be nice to have a leisurely walk amongst the skyscrapers and take in his surroundings.

Everywhere there were flying pegasus in the air, going about their daily errands or even just treading air to have conversations. Unlike the layout of most cities, Cloudsdale had several houses and storefronts suspended on their own little clouds in the air with no way for a pony on the ground to reach them without flying. It was a strange feeling, as if he was a square looking at a cube, painfully aware of the dimensions he could never have access to.

Every so often he would be comforted by the presence of earth ponies and unicorns walking the fluffy streets. Every one he saw seemed to be going in the same direction as he and Rainbow Dash. He guessed they were going to the show, and he wondered whether that was the only reason they were in Cloudsdale, or if they actually lived up here.

A sudden drizzle of rain made him look straight up to see another black cloud zoom past. Right on its tail were two pegasi speeding to catch it. They flew toward the thick mass of black clouds and disappeared in the distance. It was then that he realized that he and Rainbow Dash were heading straight for the dark clouds.

Macintosh cast a sideways glance at Rainbow Dash, but she didn’t seem fazed in the slightest by the sight. He didn’t even think she noticed, busy as she was talking about each member of the Wonderbolts with such detail he idly mused on whether she was stalking them. Though more likely it was simply the lack of privacy most celebrities had.

“That’s weird,” Dash mumbled as they stopped just in front of a level part of Cloudsdale without buildings. The sudden shade was the first thing Macintosh noticed, the second was the curtain of rain falling a few feet away, and the third were the ponies in the air, all wearing orange vests, darting in and out of the mass of clouds. If he squinted he could just see the individual shapes of clouds amongst the blanket of darkness. Stranger still was that wherever a pony went, the clouds would part and create a path of bright blue sky. It was as if they were being repelled by the pegasi’s very presence and stopped at nothing to get out of their way.

Macintosh had never seen anything like it before. One second there would only be shade so thick he could hardly see Rainbow Dash, the next a patch of sunlight would shine wearily through a sudden gap only to be engulfed again seconds later.

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said, it was all he could think of. He cast another glance at her, silently asking whether they should keep going. She never noticed it, and instead gazed somewhere ahead of them. Following her eyes he spotted what caught her attention. Just ahead was a staircase that sloped gently to a cloud island that held a colosseum-like structure; he supposed where the air show would be held. Cutting off any entrance to the staircase was a tangle of yellow tape and a few bright red and yellow signs floating on a couple of clouds. Both said the same thing: “Show cancelled due to inclement weather”.

“Inclement weather?” Rainbow Dash read as she trotted forward into the rain. Macintosh quickly followed her, and felt a bit of shock as the ice cold rain hit him for the first time. Dash, however, didn’t seem fazed at all. “How can a show in Cloudsdale be cancelled because of rain?” She asked no one in particular as she stopped at glared at the yellow tape. “That’s like Sugarcube Corner closing because it has to many cakes and stuff.”

Macintosh wasn’t sure the analogy was very apt. “Looks like it’s the end of the road,” he said. “Might as well head back.”

“No,” she said, placing a hoof on his chest to keep him from turning the opposite direction. “I came here to see a Wonderbolts show, and a little bit of rain isn’t going to stop me.”

“Dash, what’re you gonna do? Walk up to ‘em and tell ‘em to put on a show in the middle of a rainstorm?”

“I’m going to ask ‘em what’s going on,” she said as she flew above the tape and landed on the other side. “C’mon, there’s something up, I know it.”

Macintosh could only stare at her. He knew better than to argue, the look on Dash’s eyes told him that doing so wouldn’t be any use. So with a sigh he pulled the tape aside and passed through. As they went up the staircase Macintosh gazed at the colosseum. It seemed to be completely empty. Entering it only seemed to confirm his impression, as each of the several long hallways were without light or sign of life.

He didn’t exactly know where they were going, and so stayed close to Rainbow Dash who seemed to have a better idea. Then again it might just be her usual bravado unwilling to admit that she had no idea where to go. Finally the sound of falling rain and rumbling thunder became louder as they went down a particular hallway. Looking ahead, Macintosh saw the corridor lead and end into the open air. Underneath the archway that signaled the entrance to the stadium’s field were three ponies deep in conversation, only their silhouettes visible.

“How hard is it to give me a solid number,” a mare’s voice spoke, her voice sounded heated. “Let me ask again. How long until all these clouds are cleared?”

“As I said, it’s taking longer than we estimated to catch them. At this rate we’ll be lucky if we can get them all within twenty-four hours,” a stallion’s voice answered.

“Twenty-four hours?” Dash blurted out, and instantly covered her mouth. The three other ponies turned their gazes to them.

“Rainbow Dash? That you?” the mare asked as she approached. As she did, Macintosh could discern a bright orange and yellow mane along with a golden coat. The other two followed along. The stallion that spoke before wore a white lab coat and a orange hard hat, while the third was a stallion with a dark blue mane and a lighter blue coat.

“Hey, long time no see,” the blue-coated stallion said with a smile.

“Oh hey Soarin, Spitfire,” Rainbow Dash said, and Mac could see how hard she was trying not to break out into a huge grin. She managed to keep a straight face as she spoke. “Me and Mac here were on our way to your show when we saw it was cancelled and we were wondering what happened.” Macintosh just stood there, waiting for Dash to at least introduce him properly. She never did, much to his annoyance.

“It’s a long story,” Soarin said. “We were doing our dress rehearsal when these clouds just came out of nowhere and started raining.”

“So?” Dash said. “Why don’t you just move them?”

“Ask him,” Spitfire said as she pointed to the stallion with the lab coat. He glared at her for a moment before clearing his throat and taking a step forward.

“We’re having a bit of difficulty catching them,” he said.

“What? That’s it?” Dash said with a roll of her eyes. “Geez, I’m a weather pony too, you know. I could catch all these clouds and clear ‘em out in ten seconds flat.”

“Thank you for the offer,” he said, “but these are no ordinary clouds.”

“What do you mean?” Dash asked.

“These clouds were part of an experiment conducted by weather factory personnel,” he explained. “In an effort to raise the efficiency of the weather process, a spell was cast on them that would allow them to simply float to an area designated for rainfall without the supervision of pegasi. This part of Cloudsdale was meant to be a test run, only lasting for about an hour, but…” he paused, and shuffled his front hooves nervously.

“But?” Rainbow Dash said, her voice threatening as she prodded him on.

“Well, you see, in order to make sure that any pegasus from off the street couldn’t interfere with the rain schedule by moving the cloud, another spell was cast that made it so the rain clouds would evade capture by fleeing from any ponies that got too close until such time as it would be safe to return. Then yet another spell would be cast on the clouds so that weather factory ponies could get close to them. However, the scientists in charge of this test run seemed to have…forgotten to cast the last spell.”

“So let me get this straight,” Dash said, rubbing her head in exasperation. “There’s a ton of clouds out there that’ll try to fly away from any ponies that get too close, and the only way to stop the rain is to catch them and-“

“Bring them back to the weather factory to have them de-spelled,” the weather pony finished.

“Why can’t you just bring a unicorn and have them do it from here?” Soarin asked.

“Well, uh, you see the spell can only be undone when a unicorn has direct physical contact with the cloud.”

“Which they can’t since the cloud would just fly away,” Spitfire said.

“Exactly.”

“Oh for Celestia’s sake,” Soarin moaned, “why all the trouble with spells? Is getting clouds stolen really that much of a problem?”

“It’s not that they’ll be stolen, we were worried that they would be tampered with. A lot of ponies don’t agree with the weather schedule we set up, and we don’t want to make it easy for them to make a rainy day sunny or vice versa.”

“Whatever,” Dash said, “but twenty four hours? I get that there’s a lot out there but like I said, I can catch ‘em no problem if you just let me help.”

“I’m sorry,” the pegasus said, “this is weather factory business, and while it may take a while we have this situation under control.”

“Under control my-“ Dash didn’t get the chance to finish her swear before the weather factory pony flew off into the rain.

“That’s that then,” Spitfire said with a sigh. “Let’s go Soarin, we have to break the news to the rest of the team.” Soarin nodded and followed her down the way Mac and Dash came in.

“Wait, so that’s it?” Dash asked. “You’re not going to do anything?”

“Look, Dash,” Spitfire said, “I’ve dealt with weather ponies before. Hell, I’ve been dealing with that one all morning. Don’t get me wrong, I want to do something, but those ponies won’t let us. We have our place in Cloudsdale, and they have theirs. It’s best not to get in each other’s business.”

“But those clouds are raining on your stadium,” Dash retorted. “It is your business, and even if they won’t let you do anything about it, you’re the Wonderbolts! You’re practically royalty. You can do whatever you want! So what if he said they had things under control? Obviously they don’t or else it wouldn’t take a whole day to clear those clouds out. Besides, who’d complain if you helped them out? Like anypony’s going to say anything about having to do less work. No offense, Mac.”

“She’s got a point, Spit,” Soarin said. “It’s not like we’re not used to getting in a little trouble here and there,” he added with a smirk. “Plus if I don’t stretch out my wings I’m gonna get my feathers ruffled.”

Spitfire squinted at the floor in concentration. Slowly, her eyes lifted to look at Soarin, then to Rainbow Dash. Finally her eyes drifted to Macintosh, and they held each other’s sight for a brief second before she spoke. “Mac, right? You’ve been pretty quiet. You wanna help us out too?”

He wished she hadn’t asked him. Now all three pairs of eyes were looking intently at him. “Eeyup.”

He answered without giving much thought, which made him contemplate why he answered yes so easily. He looked over to Dash and noticed how much her eyes shone with eagerness. He figured she was seeing this as an opportunity to display her skills in front of her idols, but what could he possibly gain from it? Especially being an earth pony amongst pegasi. Well, it was better than sitting on his backside, doing nothing.

“Good enough for me,” Spitfire said with a smile. “Let’s go. I want to tell the team what we’re going to do, and I’ll think up of some strategies on the way.”

With that she quickly trotted down the hall, and the others hurried to catch up to her. Nobody spoke the entire way as Spitfire led them down one corridor after another in a seemingly random fashion. All the while her brow was furrowed in an unbreakable concentration. Only when all four stopped in front of a solitary door with light creeping out from the other side did Spitfire’s expression relax.

“What room is this?” Dash asked, a bit of excitement tinting her voice.

“The cafeteria-slash-equipment room,” Soarin said.

“There’s a cafeteria here?” Mac couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah, of course, Cloudsdale is practically our headquarters. Our rooms and everything are in this stadium, and it’s where we do most of our training.”

“So if it’s your home why do you only have a half-cafeteria, half-equipment room? Why not have two rooms for it?” Rainbow Dash asked.

Soarin shrugged. “We used to have a dedicated cafeteria, but we got so much training stuff that we had to, uh, find someplace to put it all. Cafeteria seemed a good a place as any. It’s also where we have our staff meetings and stuff since our old conference room is also kinda full of equipment too. And right now there’s about ten of our teammates waiting for their captain to bark orders at them.” Spitfire gave him a glare and he responded with a playful snicker.

“Watch it, wise guy, or I’ll make you sleep in the locker room,” Spitfire said with a smirk before focusing back on the door. She rolled her shoulders and stretched her neck from side to side. “Gotta get into the zone,” she mumbled, more to herself than to anyone else.

When her hoof opened the door she stood straighter, and her smirk disappeared. Macintosh recognized the look; it was the one ponies wore when they got down to business. The bustling room looked much like a cafeteria, tables and benches arranged neatly throughout. The only difference was the various chests, drawers, and bags scattered haphazardly about.

Just as Soarin said, there were several ponies seated on a few benches and tables, and all of them were chatting amongst themselves.

Rainbow Dash whispered into Big Mac’s ear and started naming each of the ponies in the room, from Fleetfoot to High Winds, Fire Streak, and Misty. Macintosh didn’t know whether the lack of uniforms made it easier or harder for her to identify them.

The room quieted down as soon as the ponies noticed Spitfire standing in front of the door. They all stood at attention, and gave her a quick salute. The captain took a moment to allow her eyes to scan through the small crowd, her eyes falling on a particular pony now and again.

“Blaze,” Spitfire said, and immediately a mare with an orange mane and yellow coat stepped forward, “remember what you said when I announced that we’d have to cancel morning rehearsal?”

“Uh,” Blaze paused, “I said I was glad…”

Spitfire squinted her eyes and her mischievous smirk returned. “And I said it wouldn’t last long. Listen up ‘bolts, turns out it’s going to take a whole day for those weather ponies to get those clouds out of the way.” A small murmur traveled through the room, and Spitfire patiently waited for it to quiet down before continuing. “I’m not going to wait that long, so we’re going to do what Wonderbolts do best and speed things up. Let me tell you what we’re up against.”

They all listened as Spitfire explained exactly what the clouds were and how they worked. Some of the ponies exchanged looks of disbelief, but Spitfire ignored them. When her exposition finally started winding down, Soarin took the opportunity to stand beside her.

“So Captain,” he said once a few seconds had passed for their audience to take in all the new information, “you said you’d think of some strategies.”

“I did,” Spitfire said, “and those two ponies are going to help us. Some of you already know Rainbow Dash, and all of you know what she’s capable of. I want you all to treat her with the same respect you’d treat one of our own.” Macintosh noticed how much Dash’s eyes lit up as she tried in vain to contain her grin.

Spitfire pointed to the farmpony. “And this is Mac. I admit I don’t know him that well, but anypony that’s friends with Rainbow Dash is okay by me.”

The crowd of ponies said their greetings to both of them, and Dash enthusiastically returned them. Macintosh, trying his best to shake away the discomfort from having so many pairs of eyes on him, mumbled a quick hello.

“What’s the plan?” Soarin asked, his speech speeding up in excitement. “It sounds good.”

Instead of answering him outright, Spitfire just smiled and made her way through the other Wonderbolts toward a chest in the back of the room. She opened it and started pulling out several pieces of rope varying in length from a few feet to several yards. “Dash, Mac, we use these ropes to pull our obstacles into place, two or three at a time. They’re enchanted so they tighten around a cloud no matter what shape they take. This is how we’re going to quicken things up.”

“So we’re going to tie those ropes around the clouds?” Soarin asked, and Spitfire nodded. “Seems like it’ll be tough to get them around the clouds while they’re trying to get out of our way.”

“Ah can tie ‘em into lassos,” Macintosh said. He grabbed a piece of rope and did the familiar knot. He quickly demonstrated how it worked by roping his foreleg and pulling the rope tight, and then loosening it off of him. It took all of half a minute.

“Perfect,” Spitfire said. “Can you do that with all the ropes?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said, already getting started.

“Yeah, that’s great,” Soarin said, tilting his head, “but how are we going to actually, you know, catch the clouds?”

“Maneuver Fifty-Three,” Spitfire said, her voice lowered to give her words a bit of mystique. A buzz of excitement filled the room, and a few pegasi flapped their wings. Macintosh looked over to Rainbow Dash, hoping for an answer. Judging by her wide-eyed expression, she had one to give.

She noticed his gaze and gave him a smile. “Nah, it’s a thousand times better if you see it for yourself. Let’s just say it has another name: The Sphere of Death.”

“I think it’s obvious how we’re going to use it to catch the clouds, seems simple enough,” Spitfire continued before looking over at Rainbow Dash and Macintosh. “Once we catch a cloud we’ll tie it to a column where it can easily be retrieved. Dash, you’re a weather pony, so I’d like you to try to get them to transport the clouds from here to the weather factory. If we could focus everything on catching clouds while they worry about transporting them, we can get this whole thing done in a blink. Until then, Mac, you’re going to have to do it on your own. You up to that?”

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said without hesitation. It wasn’t a glamorous job, and it sounded repetitious, which meant it was just the sort of thing he was used to doing. “Just point me to the weather factory. ‘fraid Ah ain’t spent much time here in Cloudsdale.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rainbow Dash told him, “I’ll go with you on the first trip.”

“Alright, team,” Spitfire said, “let’s get a move on. Those clouds aren’t going to take care of themselves, and there’s no way in hell this day’s going down as the first time a Wonderbolt’s show was postponed because of a little rain.” She slung the rope across her back and walked out of the room with confident steps. Everyone followed close behind.

Macintosh made sure to stay well behind everyone else, content with silently pondering his thoughts as the rest talked excitedly. The conversation didn’t last long as they got closer to the archway leading outside and the rain and thunder became louder. By the time the small crowd were at the exit, every pony there looked out at the darkened sky.

Spitfire gave her team a reassuring nod and dropped the ropes on her back. “Squad Alpha, we’ll take the ropes. We’re going to need ‘em.” With that she took a length of rope and flew into the rain. Soarin quickly followed her, and one by one the Wonderbolts followed their leaders into the air, about half taking rope along with them.

“Watch this,” Rainbow Dash said to Mac while in the air. “I’m going to go talk to the weather ponies, but when I get back I want you to tell me how awesome it was.”

He nodded, though he didn’t need any prodding to follow the pegasi as they flew higher and higher. They began in the shape of an arrow before breaking off into two groups, Spitfire leading one while Soarin led the other.

The vice-captain was the first to make a move, and he started flying a horizontal circle in the sky. Reacting to his presence, the clouds around him moved out of his way, creating a streak of blue sky in his path. Faster and faster he went, until the clouds were forced to separate into those outside Soarin’s circle and those within. To compensate, the clouds inside began to lift up and away. Before they could, another Wonderbolt from Soarin’s group started circling in a vertical axis, cutting them off and intersecting with the vice-captain’s flight path.

Macintosh winced as he watched the two ponies passing one another, sometimes coming within a hair’s length of crashing into each other. They never did. Big Mac could now see exactly what Rainbow Dash was talking about. Even he, a pony that had absolutely no experience with anything even remotely related to flying, could admire the amount of skill being displayed before him.

Soon, as if two ponies weren’t enough, two more from Soarin’s group joined in. This time, they each created a circle diagonally from Soarin’s. They were going so fast that the clouds inside seemed to shiver as they tried their best to escape. Now their stunt truly looked like a sphere, and Mac could swear that it looked as if the sphere was solid.

Once the four ponies were in position, Spitfire and her squadron hovered around it. In the blink of an eye the captain darted forward into a collision course for the sphere, but instead of crashing and falling as Big Mac expected she passed through without harm and a cloud between her hooves. She quickly slipped her rope tight around it, and brought it down to the archway where Mac stood. After tying it around a nearby pillar she gave him a salute and flew back.

One after the other Spitfire’s team followed their captain’s lead and zipped into and out of the sphere. If Mac was impressed before, it was nothing compared to the astonishment he felt now.

The clouds inside the sphere didn’t last long and once the final few were tied to the pillar, Soarin and his squad broke their formation and moved on to another area of the sky. Macintosh counted the tethered clouds as Soarin began circling again. Six clouds. Not a whole lot, but, especially considering that it took around ten minutes, it was a start.

The beating of wings announced Rainbow Dash’s return beneath the entrance. She was soaked to the bone and he could see her shivering. Quickly she pressed her side against him, looking for warmth, and he wrapped a foreleg around her shoulders to give it to her.

“How’d talkin’ with the weather ponies go?” he asked.

“So-so I guess. They’re talking over there.” She pointed a hoof at the field and Mac could indeed see the group huddled around each other. “They’re deciding whether they should go with Spitfire’s plan or keep going they’re own way.”

“They are?” Mac asked incredulously. “Seems like a dumb thing to discuss. It’s obvious that workin’ together would make things go faster.”

Rainbow Dash shrugged. “It makes sense. I’m a weather pony too, remember? I know how it feels. The weather is what weather ponies are all about, and it sucks when other ponies tell us how to do our jobs. It’s like if Pinkie Pie told you that you were watering your farm wrong.”

Big Mac nodded with a thoughtful hum. “Yeah, but then again Pinkie Pie would probably tell me to use sugar water.”

“Yeah,” she said with a weak chuckle before pressing her cheek against his neck. “You’re really warm,” she mumbled, almost to herself. Her eyes looked over at the clouds tied to the pillar. “Let’s get those clouds to the weather factory, maybe the weather ponies’ll come around by the time we get back.”

“Maybe you should stay here and dry up,” Mac said. “Ah’m sure Ah’ll find it if ya just gimme directions.”

“Fat chance,” Dash said, separating herself from him and shaking the water out of her coat, “We’re taking those clouds together. That means we’re dry together and we stand out in the rain together.”

“But Ah didn’t stand out in the rain while you were talkin’ to the weather ponies,” Mac quickly said, hoping to stop her. He agreed with Dash whole-heartedly, and that was why he felt so guilty about staying dry while she was out in the cold.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, smiling. “You got me warm, that’s good enough for me. Now c’mon let’s take these clouds before the Wonderbolts bring more.”

Macintosh couldn’t think of anything more to say, so, while taking a deep breath, he stepped into the rain along with Dash. Coming to the pillar, Macintosh grabbed all six pieces of rope. Feeling a tap on his shoulder, he turned to meet Rainbow Dash’s glare. With an inward sigh he released one of the ropes. It wasn’t enough to alleviate him of her stern gaze, so he let go of another. Still she glared at him, but he refused to let go of yet another. Instead, he fiddled with the knots around the pillar. They came off easily, and suddenly the strain of four clouds trying their best to escape came full force on his neck.

It was nothing he couldn’t handle, however, and he steadily made his way back beneath the archway, while Rainbow snagged the two remaining clouds. She quickly fell in beside him, and Mac could see in his peripheral vision how much she struggled with her burden and how much she tried to hide it. Bringing attention to it wouldn’t do anyone any good, Macintosh knew. It wasn’t as if she would ever admit to it. All he could do was focus on his own clouds.

It felt good. It felt good to have his body strain against a force fighting him. For once he was doing actual work in hard conditions. He could feel his sweat briefly sting his eyes before the rain washed it away. He could feel his muscles strain as he followed Rainbow Dash out of the stadium and into the open air. He could feel his strength returning to him after long having been neglected. This was it. This was work. Not dragging a sharp blade through the ground as if both were made of water, not bucking an apple tree with a light hoof so that he wouldn’t damage its trunk, and not holding back because his sister told him to. His ache gave him happiness, and his rain-soaked shivers proved his merit. That was all that mattered to him.

After a couple of minutes of walking, they were out of the thick cloud cover. The rain never stopped, however, as the clouds above them would not relent and continued to pour gallons and gallons of water on them. Thankfully the weather factory was a quick ten-minute walk away.

The weather factory was a large building that stood in its very own floating cloud a bit away from the rest of the city. Similar to the stadium it was connected by a large path to the rest of Cloudsdale. It shared the same pillars and sweeping curves of the colosseum, but there were dozens of pipes—all made of cloud—snaking their way in and out of the walls. In front of them was a set of double doors that he assumed were the entrance, and in front of it were several pegasus ponies. As soon as they saw the black clouds they all came toward Mac and Dash at once.

Rainbow Dash tried to explain what was going on, but they didn’t seem to pay any attention to her. They went to work on the clouds, untying the ropes around them and bringing them inside the weather factory. It took two of them to bring in a single cloud.

“Thanks,” a pegasus mare said once all the clouds had been safely brought inside. “I take it you’re helping out our field team?”

“Kinda,” Dash said, slinging the loose rope over the farmpony’s back. Macintosh could see that she was bursting to say more, but before she could Big Mac tapped her side. With a nod to the black sky over part of Cloudsdale, he silently signaled that they had to get going. She gave him a nod. “We gotta go back and help,” she told the mare, “make sure you guys are out here and ready for more. A whole lot more.” The mare gave her word that they would indeed wait for more clouds to be delivered, and Mac and Dash trotted off back to the stadium.

“So was it awesome?” Dash asked.

“Eeyup,” Mac said, remembering the spectacle that the Wonderbolts put on. “Ah gotta admit, Ah didn’t know what it was about ‘em that you kept getting so excited about. But watchin’ them do…that was pretty damn impressive.”

“I know!” Rainbow Dash gushed. “It’s so awesome! You think they’re going to hit each other, but their timing is so perfect. Especially how some of them actually go through it. It’s like they can make time stand still or something.”

Big Mac listened with a smile at how Dash’s voice rose an octave when talking of her idols. She went on and on about them, and how big of a fan she was. He already knew most of what she told him, things like how much she’s wanted to join since she was a filly, but he was glad to have an opportunity to quietly share her excitement.

“Hey Mac, can I ask you something?” Rainbow Dash asked, her tone taking on a more serious tint once she was done talking about the Wonderbolts.

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said, wondering what had brought on her sudden change of mood.

“It’s about when Spitfire asked if you wanted to help too.”

“What about it?”

“It’s…It’s just that, you only said ‘eeyup’. You couldn’t think of anything else?”

Macintosh grunted. “Guess not.”

“You mean you couldn’t think of saying something cooler like ‘I want to help Rainbow Dash since she’s the most awesome friend I ever had’ or maybe ‘It would be a total honor working beside the best flight team in the entire world’?”

“Ah…Ah guess Ah could’ve,” Mac admitted, “though Ah probably would’ve worded it different. Ya know Ah did want to help ya, and Ah did think it’d be pretty nice to work with ‘em. It’s just that Ah didn’t think to say those things.”

“Why?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“What’s it matter?” Mac asked. “Ah don’t see why yer makin’ such a big deal about what Ah said or didn’t say.”

“Because it wasn’t you, you know? I mean, yeah it was something you’d say, it’s totally something you’d say. But it wasn’t what you would do or say to a pony like me if I had asked you. You would’ve said more than just ‘eeyup’.”

Big Macintosh quirked an eyebrow at her, honestly confused. Rainbow Dash sighed and rubbed her head, and he could see the gears whirling in her mind as she thought of the best way to explain.

“It’s like…you’re a different pony when you’re around me than when you’re around ponies you don’t know. You’re really cool, Mac, but I wouldn’t even know that if I never got to know you. It’s like you’re kind of hiding. Like when we first met Spitfire and Soarin and you hardly said anything.”

Mac only shrugged. “Ah’m just shy, Ah guess.”

“No, Fluttershy is shy. You’re…I don’t know. You’re like one of those three-D pictures that just look like a bunch of shapes and colors and you have to stare at it for a long time before it makes any sense.”

Big Mac tapped his chin. “Maybe the colors and shapes are really all there is to it, and maybe there ain’t some hidden picture that ya gotta figure out.”

Rainbow Dash stared at the ground in thought. “I just wish Spitfire and Soarin could know you like I do. I think they’d really like you.” If she had anything more to say she never got a chance to say it. Just ahead of them were several weather ponies holding ropes tethering black clouds. They were all headed in the same direction Mac and Dash were coming from.

Not a word was spoken as the two groups passed each other, though Dash wasn’t trying particularly hard to hide her smug smirk. The weather ponies didn’t seem to notice, struggling as they were with trying to control the clouds trying to escape. A few clouds, mostly the larger ones, had to be held by two or even three ponies to be kept under control.

Mac and Dash were soon beneath the rainclouds again, and they huddled close together against the cold. By the time they entered the stadium and were beneath the archway leading out there were five more clouds waiting to be delivered, and the Wonderbolts were still dutifully catching the clouds. Big Mac couldn’t see much progress being made. He figured it was going to be a long day, but that was fine by him.

“I’m going to see if I can catch a few on my own,” Rainbow Dash said as Mac dropped the ropes on his back on dry ground. “You okay taking the rest of the clouds?”

“Eeyup.” No sooner had Macintosh said it did Rainbow grab a length of rope, give him a quick salute, and fly into the air. He watched her gain altitude and give chase to a random cloud. It darted away from her at an incredible speed, but Rainbow Dash was obviously faster and she quickly closed the gap. However, with every sharp turn the cloud gained back some distance since Rainbow Dash always reacted a second too late. All in all, though, Mac wouldn’t be surprised if she caught it within the minute.

His eyes going back to the tethered clouds, he grabbed the five ropes and untied the knots. The sudden force whipped his head back and forth before he could gain back control. He stood still for a few seconds, concentrating on stiffening his neck muscles. Taking his first tentative steps, he gritted his teeth and made his way to the weather factory.

The work was tedious (as he thought) and consisted of going back and forth between the colosseum and the weather factory, dropping the ropes off for the Wonderbolts to use when he arrived at the stadium. Every trip to and from he would always see the weather ponies going the other way. A few would always give him sideways glances as he held on to three, four, or five clouds at a time—however many were waiting for him. It made him feel a bit proud of himself, and every time he would go to pick up more he would always try to take at least one more than the last.

The most he managed to take was ten in one trip. Of course he had trouble, but he made sure to hide it. This time the weather ponies couldn’t help but openly stare at his feat of strength, and Macintosh made sure to give one of the prettier mares a wink. She looked away and blushed, and Macintosh smiled and strutted off with his confidence at an all time high.

The times when he could see it, the sun always headed steadily through the sky. After delivering a batch of clouds he would take a moment to admire how much the setting sun turned the glittering cityscape of Cloudsdale into deep reds and bright golds. He didn’t even mind the cool breeze that, thanks to his wet coat, felt like needles piercing him.

Cloudsdale. Big Mac was content with being an earth pony, but if he ever found himself a pegasus by some strange happenstance, then living here probably wouldn’t be so bad. If only for the incredible hues the clouds borrowed from the sun. He wished he could see them during sunrise.

Soon the border between the raining part of Cloudsdale and the rest of the city began to recede. It shrunk until it was nonexistent, and Macintosh was surprised when he arrived at the colosseum to pick up more clouds only to find that there was just one left. Nearby he saw the Wonderbolts and Rainbow Dash happily congratulating themselves for a job well done.

“Looks like that’s it,” Spitfire said with a grin. “Good work, team. Hit the showers and take the rest of the day off.” She stared off toward the quickly setting sun. “Looks like there isn’t going to be a show today. We’ll have to reschedule to next weekend.” The other Wonderbolts agreed and quickly headed inside, eager to finish the long day. Spitfire grabbed the vice-captain by his tail and pulled him to her. “Not you, Soarin. Me, you, Dash, and Mac here are going to deliver the last cloud and take a little victory lap.”

“Victory lap my cutie mark,” Soarin said with a smirk, “you just wanna give the weather ponies a big, fat ‘I told you so’.”

“Guilty,” Spitfire said with a smile. She brought her face closer to his and Soarin did the same. She closed her eyes and tilted her chin forward, her lips relaxed and waiting for his. Soarin suddenly lost a bit of his focus and cast a sheepish glance at Mac and Dash—both of whom were politely averting their gaze—as his cheeks turned a slight shade of red. He quickly placed his eyes back to Spitfire and tapped the end of his nose against hers. Her eyelids opened halfway and she frowned in annoyance as Soarin tried to casually turn to the exit. Before he could, Spitfire placed a hoof on his cheek and forced his face toward hers. In an instant she had her lips on his, and Soarin’s wings ruffled in surprise. With cheeks almost as red as Mac’s, he broke the kiss after a few seconds.

“You can do a Split S blindfolded but you can’t kiss your marefriend in public,” Spitfire said with a sly smile.

“Gimme a break,” Soarin said, the flush never disappearing from his face. He quickly looked around in hopes of finding a way out when his eyes fell on Big Macintosh. “Mac you get it, right?” he said. “When you’re with a mare aren’t things like that supposed to be private?”

Macintosh shrugged, wary of tossing in his two bits though well aware that he couldn’t avoid it. “Eeyup. It’s probably better ta just wait ‘til yer all alone together.”

“Well, yeah, maybe for big stuff,” Rainbow Dash chimed in, “but if I want to kiss my coltfriend then I’m going to kiss my coltfriend. If that makes anypony uncomfortable well then let them deal with it.”

“Exactly,” Spitfire said to Soarin. “Plus it’s not like our relationship is some big secret. We’re Wonderbolts for Celestia’s sake, the tabloids were saying we were together before we were actually together. Now if we’re done talking, let’s deliver this cloud.” She didn’t wait for an answer and led the way out, and the rest gladly followed. Mac was just happy the subject was dropped and took the last piece of rope and undid the final knot. He tried not to pay too much attention to the rain falling on him.

Nothing was said along the way, and it was a comfortable silence that accompanied the four. Big Mac was a bit surprised that they didn’t run into the weather ponies like he did every time he went this way. He supposed that they already knew that the work was finished, or that they probably knew exactly how many clouds they had set loose and thus knew there was only one left.

Whatever the reason, it wasn’t long before they arrived at the double doors. There was no one there. They stood silently, until the captain stepped forward and gave three knocks. The air seemed to stand still as they waited for an answer.

“Some victory lap,” Rainbow Dash muttered, “there should be hundreds and hundreds of ponies out here telling us how great we are.”

“Maybe they’re busy,” Soarin said, “they have to de-spell a hundred or so clouds and all.”

At that moment they heard a call from a few yards in the opposite direction. Macintosh turned from the door and saw a group of ponies waving at them. A few had cameras, while others had pads of paper tucked beneath their wings or floating in the air. Almost all of them were wearing vests or coats with a logo emblazoned on the front, and Mac could make out a few belonging to newspapers.

“I was wondering when the newsponies would get here,” Spitfire said. “Let’s go Soarin, they probably have a ton of questions, and we can take the chance to announce that the show’s being postponed.” Soarin nodded and followed her.

“Oh hey,” Dash said, “you guys mind if I come along?”

“Course not,” Spitfire said, “you were a huge help.”

Rainbow Dash grinned and with a giddy step trotted to catch up to the Wonderbolts. Mac, seemingly forgotten, simply shrugged and knocked on the doors again. They finally opened soon after, and Big Mac almost released the cloud in surprise. His breath vanished as he saw who stood there to greet him.

His heart raced as he gazed at her. He had never seen her up close, only a few far-away glimpses whenever she visited Ponyville along with photos that he saw in some newspapers or the books in Twilight’s library. Neither of which did the princess any justice. From her ethereal mane of vibrant colors to her bright pink eyes, not to mention her considerable height (it wasn’t often he had to look up to meet a pony’s eyes), all of it stunned him in place, and for a moment he didn’t feel the rain beating down on him. He could have sworn that there was a light shining from her. Considering that she raised the sun every morning, it might not have been simply his imagination.

Macintosh looked back at the newsponies, wondering if they had realized who was standing at the entrance to the weather factory. They were several dozen yards away and they all seemed engrossed with the Wonderbolts, taking pictures and furiously writing notes.

Princess Celestia didn’t notice him at first, busy as she was talking to a stallion wearing the usual weather pony uniform. He seemed to be in a panic.

“And that’s what happened, your highness,” he said. “I’m afraid the test run was a bit of a failure. Again I offer my most sincere apologies.”

“That’s a shame,” the princess said with a smile, “perhaps it’s best to leave the weather to dependable pegasi.”

The weatherpony nodded, and his eyes widened when he finally noticed Macintosh standing beneath his own personal rain cloud. “Oh, that must be the last one. Let me get that for you.” He untied the cloud and brought it inside the factory, leaving Mac alone with the princess. Remembering himself, he gave her a bow so deep his chin touched the ground.

“Hello,” the princess said kindly. “Please get up and tell me your name.” Her tone of voice made him relax quite a bit, and he took a deep breath as he got back on his hooves.

“Big Macintosh Apple, your highness,” he said.

“Oh, I thought you looked familiar,” Celestia said. “You’re Applejack’s older brother. I think I’ve seen you around Ponyville a few times.” She noticed the water dripping from his coat. “After coming to Cloudsdale to see the experiment the weather factory scientists were so proud of, I’m a bit disappointed that it ended in failure. The weather foreman told me that the Element of Loyalty and the Wonderbolts were helping with the effort to clear the sky. I didn’t know you were helping as well.”

Macintosh shrugged absentmindedly. “Well, Rainbow Dash and the Wonderbolts did most of the work. Ah mostly delivered ‘em along with a few other weather ponies.”

“Yes,” Celestia agreed, “but you did go above and beyond what any normal citizen of Equestria would do.” She looked past him for a moment at the crowd of ponies interviewing Rainbow Dash, Spitfire, and Soarin. “Surely you’d like some recognition for your actions.”

“Nnope,” Mac said, turning to look at the newsponies as well. “It’s enough for me to just feel like Ah’m bein’ of some use.” The more he talked the more comfortable he felt around the princess. It was a strange feeling, and he jokingly wondered if it was some type of magic.

“I see,” the princess said. “Not many ponies share your viewpoint, perhaps for good reason. It seems only fair that good deeds be rewarded with at least a ‘thank you’.”

Macintosh shrugged. “Ah don’t need thanks. It just feels good to do some work. If Ah ain’t bein’ useful then Ah’m just bein’ a burden to my family and friends.”

The princess hummed in thought. “I must ask. If Applejack stopped working on your family’s farm, would you consider her a burden?”

“Nnope,” he said, “she’s the Element of Honesty. She’ll always be needed. Not just by her family but by Equestria. She’ll never be a burden, especially not to me.” Big Mac’s eyes glazed over as he looked off somewhere in the distance. “Sometimes Ah wonder if...Ah could find something like that. Somethin’ to do that nopony else could.” Macintosh regained his senses and quickly shook his head. “Sorry, yer majesty. Ah didn’t mean ta ramble like a senile ol’ nag.”

A minute of silence passed between them before she spoke again. “Macintosh, do you know what friendship reports are?”

He was a bit surprised by the question seeming to come out of the blue. He guessed the princess was just trying to fill the silence with idle conversation. “Eeyup, Applejack’s showed me a couple she wrote.” He chuckled as he remembered one letter in particular that seemed a bit cheeky to him.

Princess Celestia nodded. “Over the past few months I’ve been receiving letters from the Elements of Harmony as I usually do. A few have spoken quite highly of you and the things they’ve learned from you.”

“R-really?” he stuttered.

“I would like you to do me a favor, Macintosh,” the princess said. “It is my belief that the lessons learned from friendship don’t simply go one way. You must have learned something from them as well. For that reason, I would like you to write me a friendship report telling me what you have learned. It doesn’t have to be now, or tomorrow, or next week, but whenever you feel ready to write one. Do you understand?”

Macintosh didn’t know what to say. He didn’t feel at all qualified to write a friendship report, and he didn’t know what in the world he could even say. He nodded to the princess, hoping that she meant what she said about taking his time to write it. He couldn’t help but think that she would be waiting for quite a while.

He kept nodding, and Celestia’s smile never wavered. He didn’t dare look her in the eyes, and instead focused on the crowd of ponies in the distance. Mac gulped as he realized that they finally noticed Princess Celestia’s presence. They charged toward the two while waving a hoof and shouting questions for the princess.

“I assume you’ll be leaving if you don’t want to be bludgeoned with attention,” the princess said with a chuckle. Big Macintosh nodded, gave the princess a quick bow, and slipped away from the crowd starting to form around Celestia.

Rainbow Dash’s waving hoof caught his attention, and she beckoned him over along with Spitfire and Soarin.

“Hey Mac, guess what,” Rainbow Dash said with a grin. He didn’t even get an answer in before she blurted it out. “Spitfire and Soarin invited us to get food and drinks tonight.”

“It’s the least we can do after cancelling the show and dragging you into our problems,” Spitfire said. “Plus it’ll be nice to go on a double date, but first I thought it’d be good to freshen up back at Cloudsdale stadium.”

Mac quirked an eyebrow when Spitfire mentioned a double date. He faced Rainbow Dash and noticed how hard she was trying to avoid eye contact.

“Sounds good,” Dash said, “so, uh, we’ll catch up with you in a couple of minutes.”

“Sure thing,” Soarin said, and with that he and Spitfire walked off to the stadium. As soon as they were out of earshot Macintosh looked at Dash expectantly, and she rubbed the back of her neck.

“So they kind of thought you and me were together, and I sort of didn’t correct them,” she said.

Macintosh rolled his eyes. “Why not?”

“Well it would’ve been awkward.”

“Not as awkward as it’s gonna be when we finally tell them the truth, and the longer we wait the more awkward it’s gonna get.”

“I know, I know,” Dash moaned. “Can we just put it off for now? Maybe wait until it won’t be so weird?”

Macintosh sighed. “Eeyup.”

Dash sighed in relief and gave him a smile. “So I saw you talking with the princess. I wish I could’ve said hi,” Dash said, tilting her head to get a better view of the princess from behind Big Mac. “But it looks like she’s pretty swamped right now.”

“Eeyup.”

“She tell you anything good?”

Macintosh only shrugged, and Rainbow Dash didn’t ask any more questions.

-*-

“Alright, let’s hit the showers,” Spitfire proclaimed as she led the way to the locker rooms. Macintosh had to admit that a nice hot shower seemed exactly what he needed to get rid of the stress of the day. It’d be nice to get under some water that wasn’t ice cold.

Rainbow Dash had talked nonstop with Spitfire on the way to the stadium. Dash asked her every question she could think of about the Wonderbolts’ training regime, touring schedule, and even their diet. Spitfire always answered with a smile, and Dash took it all in as if trying to memorize every detail.

Big Macintosh and Soarin, meanwhile, stayed toward the back without saying a word. It was the comfortable silence often heard between two stallions that neither knew each other nor considered each other strangers. They stopped once they had entered a fork in the hallway, each leading to a locker room for each gender.

“The shower for colts is that way,” Spitfire said as she pointed to the right. “How about we all meet here once we’re cleaned up?”

“Yeah sure, but, uh,” Soarin said, his cheeks turning red as he loudly whispered in her ear, “Maybe we could split up Wonderbolts and non-Wonderbolts?”

“Maybe next time, Romeo,” Spitfire said with a laugh before quickly nipping his ear. “We’ll meet you and Mac right here. C’mon Dash.” She and the rainbow mare went down the left hallway, and Macintosh started going through the other.

Soarin sighed as he followed Mac. “It was worth a shot,” he said with a smile. “I gotta hand it to you, Rainbow Dash is one heck of a catch. How’d you do it?” Soarin said as the two passed rows of lockers and entered a brightly lit, tiled room with showerheads coming out of the ceiling.

“It ain’t like that,” Macintosh said, deciding it was time to set the record straight. He turned a handle and warm water began to fall on him from above. “We’re just friends.”

“Ouch, friendzoned, huh?” Soarin said, turning his own handle before grabbing a nearby bar of soap and rubbing it against his coat. “Yeah I was there with Spitfire for a while. No worries though, getting out of it’s easier than you’d think. Just gotta find that one big, romantic act that’ll have her swooning over you without making you look really creepy. See that’s the hard part: flying the line between endearingly determined and just plain creepy. For me it was shaping the clouds into a love letter as big as the Cloudsdale sky. She said it was the cheesiest thing she ever saw.” He laughed. “Just before she kissed me.”

“It ain’t like that,” Mac repeated. “Ah don’t wanna court her. Heck, she’s like a sister to me.”

“Ah, so you’re the one that friendzoned her.”

“No Ah didn’t. We like bein’ just friends, and neither one of us wants ta make it anythin’ more.”

Soarin tapped his chin with the bar of soap. “You sure about that? I mean, me and Spit thought you two were together, and when we invited you guys to a double date Dash didn’t say anything. Maybe she’s looking for something more.”

“That was only because she admires ya so much that she didn’t wanna embarrass ya. Things between us are nice and simple, Ah’m sure of that.”

Soarin only gave him a nod, and the rest of the shower continued without conversation. After a few minutes they decided that they were clean enough and dried off before going back to their meeting place where Spitfire and Rainbow Dash were already waiting and passing the time speaking with each other.

“Look Dash, you’re a great flyer but-“ Spitfire stopped as she saw Soarin and Mac approach. “Thank Celestia. Hey Soarin, help me explain to Dash what it takes to be a Wonderbolt.”

“I know what it takes,” Dash interjected. “It takes guts, speed, and style.”

“Yup,” Soarin said, “and an understanding of basic aerodynamics. Advanced aerodynamics if you wanna be a captain. Good technical flight skills, safety training, teamwork, hours and hours of practice, and a good sense of risk and danger. Which means pretty much knowing what risks you can take and which ones you can’t.”

“I can do all that!” Dash insisted.

“I know you can,” Spitfire said, “but you don’t have it down perfect yet. I’ve seen you at the preliminary tryouts. You’re fast, Dash, and your good at stunts, but you crash a lot.”

“That’s only because-“

“It’s because your technical flying is weak and you take dumb risks when you don’t have to,” Spitfire said. “I’m not saying this to be mean, if I wanted to be mean I’d charge you my usual consultation fee, but we can’t just let anypony into the Wonderbolts. Not ‘cause we want to be elitist or anything, but because we do stunts as a team. Just think back to earlier today when we did the Sphere of Death. Even if one pony was off by a split-second, by even a centimeter, then the whole team would’ve been in danger. I really want you to be a part of the Wonderbolts, but not until you’re ready. You’ve got some raw talent and serious speed, but you still have a ways to go.”

Dash could only stand stunned as the captain of the Wonderbolts lectured her. Mac could see in her eyes how much she wanted to argue, how much she wanted to prove her wrong. Heck, he was sure for a second that she would challenge Spitfire to a race right there and then.

Thankfully, Dash held back. She took a deep breath and managed a smile. “Thanks for the critique,” Dash said sincerely. “I’ll work on it, and you can bet your plot that you’ll be begging me to join you next time.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Spitfire said, giving Dash’s shoulder a gentle punch.

“Great, glad that’s settled,” Soarin said with a smile. “So what’s the plan?”

“I figured we could go to a bar and keep it casual,” Spitfire answered. “I was thinking of going to Rain and Shine, I know how much you like their spinach and artichoke dip.”

“Yes!” Soarin cheered before turning to Mac. “That place is the best. You like hushpuppies? Nah, it doesn’t matter. You’ll love their hushpuppies. Oh, and they sell this slice of apple pie a la mode, it’s delicious. Let’s go!”

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said, “but y’all better try not to drink too much. Ah don’t wanna carry any of ya on my back.” He gave a meaningful look to Rainbow Dash. She only smiled and pretended not to hear him.

“Hey, Soarin, you wanna know who makes the best apple pie?”

-*-

“What did Ah say just before we went?” Macintosh asked, annoyed.

“Not to drink so much…” the blue pegasus on his back said bashfully.

Big Mac shook his head while Spitfire walked alongside him and Rainbow Dash leaned against his side trying to maintain balance.

“Sorry,” Soarin apologized again. “Hey, but you know you’re pretty comfy. My head fits perfectly between your shoulders.”

“Soarin, please stop talkin’,” Mac said.

“What’s a matter? Not secure in your masculinity?”

“It ain’t about masculinity, its about keepin’ the small bit of personal space Ah got left.”

The four of them were walking in the dead of night toward the outskirts of the city where Mac and Dash had set the hot air balloon. It wasn’t too far away, Soarin had said after Dash described the location, only a ten-minute walk. That was twenty minutes ago. At least he was sure it was twenty minutes ago. He hated to admit it, but he might have drank a bit more than he should have. Finally he saw their transport home off in the distance.

“Hey Spit, come up and try it. It’s like a cloud that’s hard and soft in all the right places.” Soarin said, causing Macintosh to roll his eyes.

Spitfire laughed and took to the air with a flap of her wings. Macintosh had to hold back a grunt as he felt the weight of two pegasi on him. He looked over his shoulder and saw Spitfire lay cozily on top of Soarin, and both of them seemed ready to fall asleep. He was about to tell them to get off of him when he heard yet another flutter of wings. His teeth ground together as he realized Rainbow Dash was more than ready to add to the weight on his back.

Or so he thought. He suddenly felt his burden lighten considerably as Rainbow Dash shoved the other two off before landing back on the ground. “How ‘bout a little respect? He’s not a perch you know.”

Spitfire was the first to get up while rubbing her head. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry there, Mac.” He gave her a simple nod and a smile as his only response. “Guess this is where we split,” she said with a smile of her own. She went to stand beside Soarin, who had yet to get up from Dash’s shove. “C’mon, Soarin, let’s get home. It’s only a quick flight.” She placed a hoof beneath him and helped him up. “Just like flight school. One, two, one, two, one, two.” She flapped her wings to her count.

“One, two, one, two,” Soarin repeated, stretching out his wings and following her lead. The two took off, a bit wobbly but in the air nonetheless.

“Take care you two,” Spitfire said.

“Take care of each other,” Soarin added with a wink.

With a goodbye they flew back toward their home, and Macintosh and Dash waved as they saw them go. When they were out of sight Mac walked toward the hot air balloon waiting for them with Dash leaning against him once again.

It took a while for her to remember how to operate it, but it only made them pause for a few minutes. They lifted off, and Rainbow Dash pressed closer against him as the cold air rushed past them.

“Thanks,” Mac said.

“For what?” she asked.

“For gettin’ ‘em off of me. Ah gotta admit I was worried Ah was gonna have three pegasi on my back.”

“Nah, I know how much you hate it.”

“Ah don’t hate it,” Macintosh said as he looked up at the stars, noticing how far the moon was in its path across the sky. It wouldn’t be long until morning would come. “Ah actually like the weight on my back, makes me feel like Ah’m doing work. What Ah hate is when ponies do it without askin’ me. It makes me feel like Ah’m doing…work.”

Rainbow Dash just stared at him. “You know that doesn’t make sense, right?”

He shrugged. “Ah know. Ah guess Ah ain’t in too good of a condition ta talk.”

She nodded and sighed into his shoulder. “Would ya mind if I, well, you know.”

Mac smiled as he lowered himself. “Get on,” he said.

She wasted no time doing so and managed to climb on top of him with a bit of his help. Mac stood straight once she was securely on his back, her forelegs wrapped around his neck.

“Hey Mac, mind taking off your harness?” Dash asked, and he could feel his harness shift in place as she messed around with it.

“Leave it,” he said.

He heard Dash sigh and shift around until he felt her head rest on the back of his neck and her forelegs shift a bit higher.

“What if I’m never good enough to join the Wonderbolts?” she whispered into his ear.

“Now don’t ya dare start talkin’ like that,” Big Macintosh quickly said. “What happened ta makin’ ‘em beg ya to join?”

“I know,” she said, “but what if I can’t do everything they said I had to do? What if I’m never a good technical flyer? What if all I’m good at is being fast?”

“Dash, you got guts, and Ah know that if ya decide you wanna do something then yer gonna do it no matter what.”

“I guess you’re right,” Dash said, nuzzling the back of his neck.

“Course Ah’m right,” he said with a smile.

He heard her laugh again before it became a loud yawn. They kept quiet for a few minutes, and she spread her wings to catch the passing air. He heard them flap gently, almost as if wanting to lift off.

“When I was a filly,” Dash whispered, “I had these Wonderbolt action figures. I played with them a lot, pretty much every day, since my parents... Anyway, every time I did I would always dream of when I would join them. When I would do awesome stunts in a stadium with thousands and thousands of ponies, all of them looking up at me like I was the greatest pony ever and shouting my name over and over: ‘Rainbow Dash, Rainbow Dash, Rainbow Dash...” she kept chanting her name until her voice faded into the wind. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I wanted to be the best stunt flier ever. Ponies can’t ignore you when you’re the best at something,” she said.

He didn’t say anything and waited for her to go on. He had to wait several minutes before she spoke again. “Hey, Mac, I’m glad I got to know you better,” she whispered in his ear. “And I’m glad I stopped thinking of you as just Applejack’s brother.”

Big Macintosh didn’t know what to say, so he simply kept his mouth shut. He couldn’t help but smile at her statement though, even just a little.

“Are you glad you got to know me?” she asked.

Macintosh sighed, and rested his head on the edge of the basket. “A lot of times Ah think about it. What life would be like if Ah never got to know you or Pinkie Pie or Twilight or Fluttershy or Rarity. Life would’ve been a lot easier Ah think, but Ah would’ve been a lot dumber…and happier.” He was silent for a few seconds before adding, “Ah’m glad Ah got to know ya.” He waited for her to reply, but instead all he heard was rhythmic breathing. Rolling his eyes, he quickly shook himself.

Dash woke up with a snort. “What? What is it?”

“Don’t fall asleep,” he said, “Ah don’t wanna have to wake you up when we get to yer house. You know Ah can’t get up there.”

“Just throw me. I’ll make it.”

Macintosh shook his head with a small chuckle but didn’t say anything more. He could hear her breath slow slightly as she relaxed, and he knew she had fallen asleep again. Thankfully, by that time Ponyville lied just below, and Macintosh knew enough about how to make the balloon descend. The landing wasn’t the best, and the basket skidded across the ground for a few yards before it stopped just in front of Twilight’s library. He sighed with relief when nobody came out. It was getting late, and he’d hate to wake anyone. He climbed out of the basket and managed not to wake the sleeping pegasus. A feat he was quite proud of.

The smell of rain was heavy on the wind as it whipped his mane into his eyes. He went for Dash’s home, the wind strong enough to slow him down more than he liked to admit. He felt Dash shiver on top of him, her forelegs tightened around his neck, and he quickened his pace.

Just as he feared she was still fast asleep when her cloud house had come into view. With a sigh he looked up and then over his shoulder to the sleeping pegasus. There was no way he was going to throw her back home; he didn’t think his aim was good enough in the wind.

“Dash, wake up,” Macintosh said firmly. She didn’t even move. He shook his head and shook himself gently, but still there was no reaction from her. He finally slid her off. She fell to the ground, but her sleep remained undisturbed. He started to wonder if there was something wrong with her. Her breathing was fine though. She did drink a lot at the bar they went to, probably more than any of them. It was pretty late as well, very much past midnight that much he was certain.

“Dash, c’mon, ya need ta get home.” Macintosh said.

It was no use; she was out cold. With a sigh he lifted her and got her on his back. He looked around as if the surroundings could provide him an answer. He didn’t want to go and disturb one of her friends so late at night. He supposed it wouldn’t be too much trouble to set her up in the guestroom at the farmstead. He was sure Applejack wouldn’t mind. Heck, he was sure that if he did anything else she would ask him why he didn’t bring her to the farm.

So with a nod to himself and his plan he headed to Sweet Apple Acres. It was a quick walk, eager as he was to get some sleep after a very long day. Leaves blew across the Acres as he headed for the house, and he couldn’t hear anything over the sound of rustling leaves. He took a moment to close his eyes and enjoy the sound. A few heavy drops of rain fell on his nose and snapped his eyes open. He sighed. Just what he wanted, more rain. Wasting no time, he went to the farmhouse door.

Opening it slowly so he wouldn’t wake the rest of the house, he sneaked inside. With cautious steps he made his way upstairs and to the guest room. Thankfully, he had recently oiled the hinges of the door during one of his bouts of boredom, and so didn’t need to take as much caution as he entered the room.

Macintosh pulled the covers back and started sliding Rainbow Dash on to the bed, but her forelegs wouldn’t let go of his neck. He rolled his eyes and raised his head away, but to his surprise her grip tightened and pulled him in closer to her.

“I told you to just throw me,” she said, her eyes slowly opening.

Macintosh lowered his eyelids. “Dash, if you tell me you were just fake sleeping Ah’ll throw you out of this house right now.”

“Uh-huh,” Dash murmured, not having heard him. She removed her forelegs from around his neck and lay on her side. “Hey, Mac?”

“Eeyup?”

“Can you...maybe...” she trailed off and diverted her eyes away from him. Even in the dark Mac could tell that her cheeks were flushed. From the cold, he reasoned. She bit her lower lip, and he could see her wings twitch just slightly. “Nevermind,” she finally said, rolling over so her back faced him, “g’night.”

Mac smiled at her. He pulled up the covers and tucked her in, making sure she was as comfortable as possible. “Goodnight, sugarcube,” he said while taking his leave, gently closing the door behind him.

13. Friends in High Places

Friends in High Places

The smell of coffee filled the kitchen as Big Macintosh watched the dripping liquid fill the pot much too slowly for his taste. His headache wasn’t going to get any better. Seconds felt like hours, minutes like months. Normally he’d have a little drink to ease the pain in his head, but he had only one jug of applejack left and he wanted to save it for a special occasion, or for a time when he really needed it. He had gone through his usual supply quicker than usual this year, thanks in part to Rainbow Dash.

The rain had stopped but half an hour ago, and Macintosh was eager to get out to the farm and inspect the damage. From the kitchen window he could see a few branches torn off from the sheer force of the wind last night, but he couldn’t be sure how much of the orchard was in the same state. Not to mention the fields. That kind of heavy rain could undo hours of hard work in as little time as a minute.

Finally the pot was filled with the black liquid that could make his pain more manageable. When he went to fetch a mug he heard the front door open and close. Applejack walked into the kitchen a few seconds later. He was a bit surprised and wondered where she had gone so early in the morning. For that matter, he wondered when she had woken up. As he pondered his thoughts, Applejack pulled a chair from the table and sat, all the while giving him a hard stare.

“Mornin’ there, Mac. Ya mind tellin’ me why Ah woke up with Rainbow Dash sleepin’ next to me this morning?” she asked.

He hid his confusion and imminent laughter and focused on grabbing two mugs and pouring coffee. He added a bit of salt into one and a splash of milk and a cube of sugar to the other. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out how Dash ended up in his sister’s bed. He was absolutely sure he had placed her in the guest room. It was possible, he supposed, that she got up and moved, but the why of it was beyond his deduction. Still, he couldn’t pass up the chance to have a bit of fun at Applejack’s expense.

With a great sigh he placed her coffee in front of her and stared into his own while sitting across from her. His reflection was barely visible in the black liquid. He used it to get his expression just right: eyebrows furrowed in a troubled expression, and a soft frown that was neither angry nor sad. “Listen AJ, Ah know you an’ Dash are best friends, and you know Ah’ll always be yer brother.” He plucked Applejack's hooves away from her mug and interlocked his fetlocks with hers. “Ah guess it’s time some things got out in the open.”

“Mac, what’re you sayin’?” Applejack asked suspiciously, her glare hardening until it seemed she was ready to kill. “If yer tellin’ me that you an’ Dash-“

“Ah’ll always love ya, sugarcube,” he interrupted, “and if you wanna tell Granny Smith then Ah’ll be right there beside ya. Ah know she’s old-fashioned but she knows that sometimes ya gotta accept family as they are.”

Applejack was caught off guard, and her gaze went from one of fury to one of complete confusion. “Wait, what-“

“Truth be told Ah ain’t that surprised that you an’ Dash-“

“Big Macintosh Apple!” Applejack snapped, and it was the last push he needed to completely lose his composure and burst into laughter. It aggravated his headache, but it was worth it. Applejack took back her hooves and shook her head. “Ah oughta buck yer face in for that,” she said before taking a sip of her coffee.

“For what?” Rainbow Dash asked as she entered the kitchen while rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Macintosh smiled as he went to pour her a mug of coffee. “You’re not still mad at me for scaring you, are you? It took me forever to get back to sleep after you freaked out like that. Four sugars and no milk, Mac.”

“Ya didn’t scare me. Ah was surprised is all, and Ah think Ah got a bit of a right ta freak out,” Applejack said. “How’d you even end up in my room anyway?”

“Oh, well,” Rainbow Dash said as Mac placed her mug of coffee in front of her, “Mac thought it would be too obvious if you found me in his bed.” Macintosh tried to stifle a second round of laughter. He didn’t do a very good job and Applejack’s glare returned as Dash gave him a sideways grin.

“Oh no, Ah ain’t fallin’ for any of yer fibs. Mac already tried,” his sister said, placing her mug on the table with enough force to make a loud clunk.

“Yeah?” Rainbow Dash asked as she turned to him. “What’d you tell her?”

“He played dumb and implied that you an’ me were uh…well Ah ain’t gonna say it,” Applejack said.

“Aww, I should have thought of that,” Dash said. “Come into the kitchen all ‘Hey, AJ, I had a really nice time last night’.”

Applejack groaned into her coffee. “Alright, it’s too early in the morning for any more of this. Can y’all just tell me straight what the heck happened yesterday? Ah thought y’all were just gonna see a show for a couple of hours, not disappear for the whole day.”

“You wouldn’t even believe me if I told you. Okay so when we got to Cloudsdale-” Macintosh coughed to stop Rainbow Dash, and the two stared at each other for a brief moment. The last thing he wanted was for Applejack to worry about him, or to know that he had actually done a decent amount of work instead of relax at the airshow with Dash. Who knows what she would say about that.

“Something came up,” Dash said, her enthusiasm dissipating. “I’ll tell you about it later, or better yet I’ll show you the newspaper article when it comes out.” Dash grinned, and Applejack raised an eyebrow to her friend before shaking her head and taking a sip of coffee. “Anyway,” Dash continued, “after that me and Mac went to get some drinks, I had too much and fell asleep, so Mac let me stay in the spare bed upstairs.”

“Alright, Ah get that,” Applejack said, “but how’d you end up in my room?”

“I got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and got a little lost on my way back.” Dash noticed the skeptical look on the farm mare’s face. “I drank a lot. No hangover though. Lucky me, huh Mac?” Macintosh only grunted his response, not so fortunate.

“Well, Ah suppose if it were me instead of Big Macintosh Ah would’ve done the same, so Ah can’t be too mad at ya.” Applejack finished her coffee and stood up with a yawn. “You ready to go, big brother?”

Mac’s ear twitched. “Go where?”

Applejack tilted her head as if he had just asked where apples came from. “Out to the farm, of course. There’s tons of work that needs to be done. Ya haven’t seen it yet, but let me tell ya, it’s bad. Ah need yer help.”

“You really mean it?” Macintosh asked, almost afraid that he might still be asleep and this was all a dream.

“Eeyup,” she said.

“We better get started then.” It was hard to hide his excitement, but he managed to keep his smile tucked away. Applejack nodded and turned to the front door with Big Macintosh following along.

“Hey, you guys mind if I help out?” Rainbow Dash asked. The Apple siblings looked at Dash and gave her the same confused look. They then met each other’s eyes, and Applejack just gave her brother a shrug.

“If ya want,” Applejack said over her shoulder, leading the way outside.

The sun shone fiercely in the morning hour. The weather pegasi had done quick work and the sky was already clear of any clouds. The quiet plunk of raindrops falling off the porch roof and the trees in the orchard could be heard throughout the farm. Applejack had been right, the damage to the farm was widespread. Everywhere branches were on the ground and green leaves littered the farmland. Even a few immature apples had been knocked out of their branches. The fields suffered the worst of the weather. All of them had turned to mud to the point where they could no longer be told apart from the rest of the ground. All of their land that wasn’t held down by the roots of grass and trees was reduced to slush.

Applejack sighed and took the first steps off the porch. Her hooves sunk completely into the ground and it took a bit of force to free them to take another step. “It’s gonna take us a good day’s work ta get everything cleaned up and back in shape.”

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said, standing beside her. He tried to hide the smile threatening to cross his face as he counted up the hours he would be able to work. The fields were easy enough, he just had to square them out and plow them again before the ground got too dry. Though he wouldn’t mind if it did dry completely since it would make for a much harder time of it. Then the fields would have to be reseeded, since there was a good chance the previous seeds had been washed away. What would take the bulk of his time was clearing up every single branch that had fallen from the hundreds of trees that made up the orchard. If he was lucky there would be great big branches the size of a pony that only he could clear away.

Macintosh looked over to Rainbow Dash to see her reaction, but she was too interested with the mud at her hooves and busied herself with gathering a small mound in front of her. She caught his eyes and smirked as she buried her hooves in the mud, crouched down, and flared her wings. Big Mac chuckled softly. How couldn’t he play along when he was in such a great mood?

“Best ta get started,” Applejack said. Nobody paid her any attention. Mac slid a hoof through the slick mud, his eyes never leaving Rainbow’s. She was going for a lightning fast close-range attack, no doubt to get him as muddy as possible in as little time as possible. There was no way he could match her speed, but he didn’t have to be fast to sling mud into her face.

“High noon, Sheriff,” Dash said, staring him down, “and this field ain’t big enough for the both of us.” Applejack quickly turned her head, and all she could do was stare at the two as they stood across from each other.

“You best be gettin’ outta my town now, Dash, before ya get yerself hurt,” Mac said, returning the glare and rolling his sprig of wheat to the other side of his mouth.

“You sound like a hero, but there’s something you gotta learn about heroes, Mac. Heroes die!” Rainbow Dash tensed her wings and Mac raised his hoof, but before they could see who was the fastest slinger in the West a voice suddenly called out.

“There you are, Macintosh,” Rarity said, wearing her saddlebags as she came between him and Dash. The mud slowed her down, and she took each step gently and slowly as if that would keep the muck away from her hooves despite the fact that they were well protected by her rainboots. She noticed Applejack and Rainbow Dash and quickly exchanged hellos before focusing back on him and batting her eyelashes. “Macintosh, sweetie, I was looking for you all afternoon yesterday. I hoped to catch you coming back from Cloudsdale, but you and Rainbow seemed to have disappeared well into the night.” She cast a suspicious glance toward the blue pegasus, only to have a ball of mud hit her square in the face.

“Ugh, my face!” she said, quickly wiping away the mud, an effort impeded by her mud covered boots. “Rainbow Dash! Do you have any idea of the effort I put into my appearance? Hours of exfoliating, moisturizing, and hydrating ruined by a single swing of your hoof!”

“It wasn’t me,” Dash said, her cheeks puffed with held-back giggles.

“I saw you throw it,” Rarity retorted.

Dash dismissed her reasoning with a wave of a hoof. “You’re just seeing things, probably because of all that mud in your eyes.”

Rarity huffed her disapproval as she finally cleaned off the mud as much as she could. She gave Dash a steely gaze before turning to Macintosh with a sudden sweet smile. “I’m so sorry for the interruption, Macintosh,” she said. Mac had to try his hardest not to chuckle at her dirtied face. “I was hoping-” Another ball of mud interrupted her as it smacked against her backside. With a growl she turned back to Rainbow Dash with a look to kill. Dash only pointed to Applejack, the farm mare’s hoof raised and muddied.

“Ah was aiming for Mac,” Applejack quickly explained, “but yer butt got in the way.”

“Et tu, Applejack? Oh the equinity,” Rarity said, bringing her hoof to her forehead. “The finest ponies of my generation have betrayed me! But I am strong. I will overcome!”

“Don’t get yer mane in a knot, ya drama queen,” Applejack said with a laugh. “Don’t ya get mud on ya in the spa anyway? What’s the difference?”

Rarity rolled her eyes. “You sound just like your brother. Well then Applejack, I suppose you don’t want to hear the wonderful news I have for you.”

“Wonderful news, huh?” Applejack said with a tilt of her head. “Alright, Ah’ll bite, whaddya got?”

Rarity shook her head with a smile and a trio of clicks from her tongue. “I’d like an apology first. A kiss on my hoof will do,” she said, raising a hoof daintily into the air.

Applejack exhaled in contempt. “How ‘bout Ah don’t hit ya with another ball of mud?” she said.

Rarity didn’t lower her hoof. “Are you sure? Oh well, I’m sure when you hear my news you’ll be begging for the chance. You see, I recently went to Canterlot to peruse a few fabric stores. They have an amazing fashion district, there’s this one store in particular that has the most wonderfully soft silk. Anyway, while I was there I ran into Fancy Pants, he’s the pony in charge of organizing the summer picnic I’m taking Macintosh to this weekend, in case you didn’t know. He informed me, sadly, that the picnic had to be postponed because the caterer had suddenly taken ill, from food poisoning if you can believe it, and he couldn’t find another in such short notice.”

“Uh-huh,” Applejack said, bored. “How’s that good news?”

“You’re so lucky to have a friend with my connections,” Rarity said with a smile. Her horn began to glow and a folded piece of paper levitated from her saddlebags, “because, you see, I told him that I knew a caterer that would be happy to take the job, better yet I told him this caterer had made quite a name for herself by creating the desserts enjoyed at Princess Cadence’s wedding. Wouldn’t you know it, he so trusted my taste and opinion that he hired Sweet Apple Acres right there and then. Of course, I suppose your reputation as an Element of Harmony helped as well.”

“Yer tellin’ me ya got me a catering job?” Applejack said, a smile brightening her face. “Well heck, that’s great! Still ain’t gonna kiss yer hoof though. How much does it pay?”

“I dare not say it, the number is so large it’s practically vulgar and has no place in polite conversation. Here, all the information you need to prepare is on this paper, including an address where you can write Fancy Pants in case you have any questions,” Rarity said with a smile before floating the slip of paper over to her friend. The news only widened Applejack’s grin. Macintosh couldn’t blame her, since the prospect of a catering job made him pretty excited as well, and not just because of the money it would surely bring in.

“Well then, Miss Rarity,” Macintosh said, “Ah guess that means Ah can’t go to the picnic with ya, seein’ as how Ah’m gonna be busy catering it and all.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, Mac,” Applejack said, snuffing out his excitement. “Ah’ll ask Pinkie Pie to help out. It’d probably be good to have some food that ain’t made of apples there too. Besides, Ah’m gonna need her help if Ah’m gonna get everything ready by the weekend.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Rarity said. Mac hid his disappointment. It wasn’t just about weaseling out of taking Rarity to some upscale picnic (one that he assumed, would have little real resemblance to an actual picnic), but he also had been looking forward to working beside his family. He couldn’t feel too down about it, however. Not when there was plenty of work to be done.

“Ah’m gonna get started on the fields,” he said, eager to get to work.

“Actually, Macintosh,” Rarity’s voice quickly stopped him, “I was hoping you could come to the Boutique with me and we could get your fitting done.”

“Sorry Miss Rarity,” he said over his shoulder, “Ah got work to do here on the farm.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mac,” Applejack said. “Ah got the farm covered.”

His ears pinned back and he stared at his sister. “But Ah…you said…the farm?”

“Like Ah said, Ah got the farm covered, so go and have yer little date with Rarity,” his little sister said with an added smirk to the unicorn, who responded with a furious blush.

“But are ya sure?” he asked.

“Ah’m sure,” Applejack said, her voice taking a hard edge, “now get going.”

Big Macintosh didn’t even put up a fight. He only shrugged his shoulders and gave his little sister a tight-lipped smile that hid his gritting teeth. He couldn’t argue with her. He was quickly learning that it was just easier to go along and hope for the best.

“Psst, hey Mac,” Rainbow Dash whispered as she elbowed his ribs. He didn’t know when she had come so close to him. “Don’t worry, I’ll come by and think up some excuse to get you out of it.”

“Dash, I’m right here,” Rarity said, tapping the pegasus on the shoulder. “I can hear every word you say.”

“Just give me ten minutes,” Dash whispered to him.

Rarity heaved an exasperated sigh and began walking to Ponyville. She flicked her tail against his side. “Come along, Macintosh. Time is of the essence.” Macintosh gave Dash a small shrug before saying goodbye to her and his sister. With that he followed behind Rarity, every so often looking over his shoulder.

The farm was getting smaller and smaller as they walked away, but still Macintosh could see the apples hanging from the trees. He could still see the orchard hugging the farmstead. He could even still see Applejack getting the plow out of the barn. All of it bathed in the bright light of the morning.

It was during one of those long looks back that Rarity noticed what held his eyes. She stopped so that Macintosh caught up beside her. “Is there something wrong?” she asked, maintaining an easy pace.

“Applejack’s been takin’ more and more work away from me,” Macintosh said, breaking his gaze with a shake of his head. “Ah don’t think she wants me on the farm anymore.”

“Oh nonsense,” Rarity said, “I’m sure she’s just doing you a favor.”

Macintosh grunted. “Seems to me that she’s takin’ up all the work by herself.”

Rarity squinted at the ground for a few seconds, and she didn’t look up when she addressed him. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, the rest of the girls and I have noticed how busy she’s been lately.” She smiled and raised her head to meet his eyes. “I’m sure it’s just to prepare for the Fall. Isn’t that when Sweet Apple Acres is at its busiest?”

Macintosh nodded but didn’t say anything. She had a point. Late Summer and Autumn was when the Apple Family Reunion, Applebuck Season, and Cider Season took place, sometimes one right after the other. Maybe he was just still in his obsessive workhorse mindset, and the only reason it felt like he was doing no work at all was because he wasn’t used to doing so little around the farm. However, something about having more free time than Applejack seemed very wrong to him. Was this really okay?

Of course it was. He and his sister already aired out their grievances with each other, and Applejack made it clear that he was working too hard, too much. This was just part of the process, he was sure of it. Still, if that was the case then why did he feel like he was just going to the opposite extreme. From working too much to working too little.

Groaning, he shook his head and stared at the ground, hopelessly lost.

“Don’t worry so much, sweetie,” Rarity said, her voice soft and honeyed. “All you need is something to do to get your mind off the farm.”

Macintosh nodded. He was changing a habit he had learned since he was a tiny colt, of course it wouldn’t be easy. At least he was going to spend time with Rarity. She had a way to make his mind go blank, if only because she could push him beyond the limits of embarrassment. At least he had fun trying to do the same to her. Even so, he hoped she wouldn’t flirt with him while he was standing in the middle of the boutique while she poked and prodded him with pins, measuring tape, and her hooves.

They arrived at the boutique, and Macintosh had barely taken his first steps inside when Rarity levitated his harness off of him. A second later he felt the measuring tape wrap around his neck.

“Hah,” Rarity said as she squinted at the numbers, “your neck is smaller by almost a whole inch.” She gave him a smug smirk, turned to her drafting table and started scribbling. “See? I told you there was good reason to take your measurements again.”

“Ah thought my yoke felt a bit loose,” Mac said dryly.

“Laugh if you must, but just you wait. This will be the absolute best outfit I have ever created for a stallion.”

“So long as it ain’t some sleeveless cardigan with a pink sweater ‘round my neck.”

Rarity laughed. “Oh, sweetie, don’t be ridiculous,” she said while crumpling up the piece of paper she was drawing on and magically flinging it into a trash can. She grabbed a new piece, started sketching again, and levitated a bright blue fabric toward Mac.

“What do you think?” she asked, wrapping her measuring tape around his stifle.

“Ah think Ah wanna get back home,” he said, only half jokingly.

“Oh don’t be that way,” Rarity said with a small giggle.

Macintosh could only stand and wait as Rarity continued taking more measurements. Despite what the tailor’s tape said, he honestly saw no point in standing here in the middle of Carousel Boutique for a second time. Worse was the fact that Rarity had become much more familiar with him since the first time he had a fitting and now held no trepidation in touching him (if she had any the first time he had his measurements taken). On the bright side, now that he was more comfortable with her he could complain more about it.

“Yer hoof’s on my cutie mark,” he said. It had been there for the past minute.

Rarity just hummed to let him know she had heard him, but her hoof stayed where it was to provide balance as she stood on her hindlegs to read the tape as it measured the distance from the base of his neck to the base of his tail.

Macintosh only sighed and tried to think of something to say that would distract him from the lack of personal space. Hopefully something that didn’t lead to flirting. It would only make him feel awkward when she was this touchy with him. As a matter of fact, he had been mulling over a question for quite a while, and he thought now was as good a time to ask it as any.

“Mind if Ah ask ya a question,” he asked. Rarity hummed affirmatively as she stared intently at the tape measure currently wrapped around his lower back. “What would ya do if ya couldn’t do,” he tried to find the right word that would encompass everything the dressmaker did. He gave up and simply waved a hoof all around him, “this?”

Rarity seemed to catch his meaning, and she gave him a little laugh. “Why wouldn’t I be able to?”

“Ah dunno,” he said, “just…what if ya couldn’t anymore?”

“I have no idea,” she said. She removed her tailor’s tape and gently smoothed out the part of his coat that it had disturbed. “Thankfully I don’t have to worry about it. I’m sure I’ll be making dresses, dealing with customers, and creating for a long, long time.” Big Macintosh didn’t say anything, and only tried to ignore Rarity’s soft touch as he thought of her answer.

“So Macintosh,” she said, “are you excited to take such a pretty mare out on a picnic in Canterlot?”

“A pretty mare?” he asked, tapping his chin. “Ah thought Ah was takin’ you.”

Rarity lowered her eyelids, and his quip seemed enough to completely deflate her. She removed her side from his and draped her foreleg across her head, just above her eyes in a dramatic pose. “Oh such a tragedy that all my kindness and hard work be wasted on such a rude stallion who can’t even see the true beauty of the one whose efforts benefit him so.”

Macintosh chuckled at her theatrics. “Sorry, Miss Rarity,” he said. “Ah didn’t mean it.”

“Apology accepted,” she said, “now kiss my hoof.” She lifted up her hoof as she had done with Applejack and held it toward him.

Macintosh quirked an eyebrow. “What’s with you and hoof-kissin’ all a sudden? That some new thing over at Canterlot?” he asked with a smirk.

Rarity waved away his question with one of her own. “Are you excited to go to Canterlot? I know Fancy Pants is eager to meet you again, you left quite the impression on him the last time we went.”

Macintosh simply shrugged. “Wasn’t about two weeks ago last Ah went to Canterlot for the dessert contest. Week later Ah was in Cloudsdale. Feels like Ah’ve been spending more an’ more time outside Ponyville.”

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Rarity asked. “And just think that only a few months ago you had said you hardly traveled outside of Ponyville.”

Again he could only shrug and stand perfectly still as Rarity wrapped the measuring tape around his barrel. “So how big is this get-together anyway?” he asked.

“Oh it’s quite small,” she said, “only a couple hundred ponies or so.”

Mac’s teeth clenched for a split second. “That doesn’t sound small to me.”

“Believe me, when it comes to parties in Canterlot, two hundred ponies is small,” Rarity said, finally removing the tape. “All right, Macintosh.” Rarity flicked her mane and went to her drafting table where she began to scribble her ideas. “I think this time I’ll go with a suit made of a blend of silk and wool, something light that will breathe in the hot summer sun. Also I want to make it a lighter color, I think an earth tone would suit you well. Though I’d like to stay away from anything green. No sense in making you look like Hearth’s Warming, after all. Now as for accessories…”

Macintosh pretended to listen. As usual most of her words flew over his head, the topic completely unfamiliar to him. His thoughts began to wander to Canterlot. If someone had told him three months ago that he would soon go to Canterlot three whole times then he would have called them crazy. It was a beautiful place, to be sure, but he couldn’t help but feel a little out of place every time he went.

Rarity’s curled mane came into his line of sight, and suddenly he found himself staring into her sapphire eyes. He couldn’t help but notice how they gleamed in the light.

“How does all that sound, Macintosh?” Rarity asked with a small smile.

“Just fine, Rarity,” he said. “You know me, Ah ain’t got much of head for this sorta thing.”

“You seem distracted, sweetie,” she said while taking a step back. “Anything on your mind?”

“Ah’m just thinkin’ about goin’ to Canterlot again,” he quickly explained.

She smiled. “You’re not worried about going, are you?”

Nothing came out of the farm horse, and he only looked away to a far off corner of the boutique at a small mote of dust drifting lazily in the air. Finally he turned back to her, silently watching him with a small tilt of her head. He recognized that look. The look ponies had when their minds were conceptualizing and abandoning thoughts a hundred times a minute. A look usually reserved for brain teasers and puzzles. He didn’t like it.

Relief swept over him when she dropped her stare and casually stepped past him toward her table. The feeling didn’t last long. His muscles tensed as he felt her side press against his once again, and this time she even went so far to lean her head against his shoulder. He could feel her horn press lightly against his neck. “Macintosh, sweetie, darling, you have nothing to be worried about,” she said with an encouraging smile. “You did just fine the last time we went to Canterlot, and by what Pinkie told me you presented yourself well in the dessert competition. She even told me you had a little date.”

Macintosh could feel his cheeks burn. “She told ya that, huh?” he said, trying his best to play off his embarrassment. “So how many mares have you told? Last Ah heard yer the one with all the gossip ‘round Ponyville.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rarity said with a flick of her mane. “I never spread gossip when it concerns my dear friends. Besides, do you have any idea how many mares would go into a tizzy if news spread that Big Macintosh Apple had a date?”

The very idea forced a chuckle out of the workpony. “Ah might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, Miss Rarity, but Ah know enough to figure when yer stretchin’ the truth.”

“Believe it or don’t,” she said with a smile, “but I’ll have you know that there are many mares that have their eyes on you. And I do mean many mares.” She gave him a wink before walking back to her drafting table, and left Macintosh to stare after her. He finally shook his head with a small smile. That mare sure knew how to press his buttons. He had to hand it to her, she was really laying it on thick this time.

He decided against a comeback, and simply continued the topic at hand. “Ah just don’t belong in Canterlot with all those sophisticated ponies.”

“Nonsense,” she said, perusing her fabrics. “Canterlot isn’t some exclusive club where ponies either belong or do not.”

“Sure it is,” Mac said. “Ain’t nothing wrong with that. Some ponies are more comfortable on the farm, an’ some are more comfortable in Canterlot. Ah’m a farmer, yer more high class. That’s just the way it is.”

“I see,” Rarity said, “and what makes me more high class?”

Macintosh shrugged. “Ah dunno. Ya like good clothes, and you speak really well. Heck, Ah bet ya know more than one word for blue. Yer sharp as a tack, ya walk like the ground is made outta fine crystal that ya don’t wanna scratch, yer really pretty, and you can hold yer own when yer talkin’ with other high class ponies like at the art viewing.”

Rarity returned to his front with a swatch of soft fabric in a pale tan color. She pinned it to his chest with her hoof and examined the contrast of hues carefully.

“Listen to me, Macintosh,” she said without looking up from the cloth. “I know Canterlot may seem like a different world from Ponyville, and I can’t even imagine how different it must be from the farm, but…” she trailed off and levitated away the swatch to bring another on his chest, this one made of a much coarser material and colored a pale yellow. “It’s hard to put into words.” She gave him a small smile though her voice became quiet. Macintosh was caught off-guard by the sudden change of atmosphere. He didn’t say anything, holding a small desire for her to go on.

“Do you know what I did when I first met Fancy Pants?” she asked. He didn’t have time to think of an answer before she gave it to him. “I lied through my teeth in order to make a good impression. I thought that you would do the same when he asked you about the painting. Do you remember that? When he asked your opinion I was sure you would say something vague and general, just as I did. Instead you spoke your mind. Even when the whole room erupted in laughter you kept your composure and stood your ground.”

Rarity sighed and placed yet another swatch of fabric on his chest, this one a simple white. “I don’t think walking daintily or knowing the names for different shades of a color automatically makes a pony elegant and sophisticated. Neither does speaking or dressing well. That can all be learned. I would be hard pressed, however, to teach a pony how to stay collected when an entire room is against her.”

The room stood in an uncomfortable silence for a few long seconds, and Macintosh rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to think of a way to lighten the unbearable tension weighing him down. “Maybe Ah was just too dumb to know better,” he offered with a half-hearted smile.

She smiled back just as weakly. “Or perhaps too stubborn.” Levitating the cloth away from him, Rarity went back to her table to tease out a few more details. Macintosh exhaled softly in relief. He had no idea Rarity had been watching him so closely when they went to the art viewing. Looking back, he wondered if he would do the same now. He felt so different from the stallion that went to that art museum. He wondered if that was a good thing.

-*-

Applejack and Big Macintosh placed the last few baskets of apples into the wagon. The letter from Fancy Pants had told the Apple family that most of the basic supplies would be provided: flour, eggs, and most every fruit and vegetable they would need to make a variety of hors d'oeuvres. Even so, Applejack insisted on bringing a few baskets of apples and a bit of their own supplies along with them.

Macintosh stopped fumbling with the tie around his neck to take a look at the apples. “’Bout the last of last season,” he said.

“Uh-huh,” Applejack said. “Lasted longer than last year. With any luck we’ll run out right when the new crop comes in.”

With the loading done he brought his attention to his undone tie. Trying to manipulate the fabric proved maddening. The smell of sugar and vanilla didn’t help his concentration either.

Applejack laughed as she watched him. “Fancy get-up ya got there, big brother.”

A grunt was his only response. Truth be told he rather liked the clothes Rarity made for him. It was a simple fawn color with his tie, cufflinks, and handkerchief all in a bright shade of copper. Though right now all he was wearing was a white dress shirt and the tie Rarity had given him. He remembered a long time ago when one of his great uncles rambled on and on about how unicorns conspired to oppress earth ponies by inventing things only their magic could effectively hold and manipulate. Mac wondered if ties were such an invention.

“Big Macintosh Apple, what in Equestria are you doing to that poor cravat?” Mac’s head shot up at Rarity’s stern voice. Sure enough he saw the dressmaker coming toward them wearing her saddlebags as a plastic wrapped dress hovered several feet away from the dirt. She wasted no time in enveloping his tie in light blue magic and quickly knotting it in place. “There,” she said with a smile.

“Miss Rarity, Ah thought we were gonna meet up at the train station,” Mac said. He lifted a hoof to examine the tie only for her to quickly bat it away.

“I know, I know, but just as I was about to get dressed I decided to take one final chance to make sure everything was absolutely perfect. I still haven’t seen how our outfits look together.”

Big Mac rolled his eyes, but didn’t bother to mention the hours Rarity spent making sure the colors matched perfectly. Applejack chuckled quietly before looking around the farm.

“Pinkie should’ve been here by now,” Applejack said.

“She’s here,” Mac said.

“He’s right,” Pinkie added as she poked her head out of the supplies on the wagon.

“Hey there, Pinkie,” Applejack said, her greeting mixing in with Rarity’s. The farm mare looked around for a few seconds before coming back to her newly arrived friend. “Where’s all that sugar ya wanted ta bring?”

“I already put the sacks in the wagon,” Pinkie said as she bounced down onto solid ground.

“Sacks?” Applejack asked. She examined the wagon’s contents once again. There were indeed a few new bags that neither she nor Big Mac had loaded. “How much did ya bring?”

“One sack of each type,” Pinkie said. “Granulated, brown, powdered, vanilla, and raw.”

Macintosh shook his head with a smile and a quiet chuckle. “Ah’m gonna go back to my room an’ finish up gettin’ dressed,” he said to the three of them. Applejack nodded to signal that she heard him, and went back to Pinkie to ask if they really needed so much sugar. Satisfied, Mac headed to the farmhouse with Rarity close beside him. Before he could ask why she was following him, Rarity preemptively provided an answer.

“If you dress yourself as well as you can tie a cravat then I’m surprised you can manage to put on your harness every morning,” she said, eyeing his bare neck. “Except for this morning, apparently. Besides, I’d like the chance to style your mane since Celestia knows you won’t do it yourself.”

Big Mac took her comment silently in stride, and paid no more attention to the mare. There really was no point in insisting that he could dress himself just fine.

“So Macintosh,” Rarity said, pressing her side against his. “What-”

“Did you travel when you were a filly?” Macintosh interrupted as he opened the door to the farmstead for her.

Rarity was taken aback for a few moments, but soon thanked him and ascended the stairs without any prodding. “A little bit I suppose. Though I didn’t have as many opportunities as I do now. Which room is yours?” she asked. Her eyes scanned the doors that led to the Apple family’s bedrooms, as well as a guestroom and bathroom. Macintosh didn’t speak. He only walked to his bedroom door and entered.

“My it certainty is…cozy,” she remarked as her head swiveled from his bed to his nightstand and then toward the other side of the wall where she glanced over the solitary shelf holding his Miss Smartypants doll. Her eyes crept to the hook that held his harness, and she took a few hesitant steps forward. Macintosh was a bit surprised to see a bit of red tinting her cheeks. “It’s much neater than what I was expecting. Not that I was expecting you to be messy, but well…I’m not sure what I was expecting.”

“Didn’t expect ya to be nervous about goin’ into my room,” Macintosh said.

Rarity scoffed. “Well, I don’t know what you must think of me to imagine that I would be perfectly comfortable when entering a stallion’s bedroom.”

“Ah didn’t mean anythin’ like that,” he quickly said. “It’s just that if things were switched around and I was goin’ into your room Ah wouldn’t be so nervous.”

“Oh believe me, Macintosh,” Rarity said while laying her dress and saddlebags on the bed, “you would be. Now let’s get started. Where’s the rest of your suit?”

Macintosh pointed to a corner of the room toward a small door, cut out of the wall. Its natural wood color blended perfectly with the rest of the room. If it weren’t for the bronze handle it would be close to impossible to notice its presence at all. Rarity had no qualms with opening his closet and levitating his suit jacket gently on his bed. Though the closet seemed intent on holding her interest.

Rarity looked from the open door to Macintosh. With a small smile he waved a foreleg toward the closet, silently giving it up for her close examination. She gladly took the opportunity and inspected its trifle offerings.

The suit and harness Macintosh wore at the art viewing some months ago hung on a rack right beside his Nightmare Night costume. It held her attention for a few seconds until she levitated out the black coat and hat.

“I never would have expected you to wear something so flamboyant,” Rarity said, eyeing every dart and seam carefully.

Macintosh shrugged. “Ah liked it.”

“I’ll have to keep this in mind when creating your next outfit,” she said while hanging the costume back to its place. As she did, her eyes caught sight of a trunk taking up most of the floor inside the closet. “What’s in there?”

“Open it if ya want,” Mac said while putting on his jacket, “ain’t no big secret if that’s what yer hopin’ for.”

She scoffed at his accusation but still opened the trunk. She stared at its contents for a few seconds, and finally levitated the only two items inside: a small harness that greatly resembled the one Macintosh wore, and a thick wooden box with a windup key sticking out of its side.

“Ah’m only gonna talk about one thing,” Macintosh warned as Rarity opened her mouth. The unicorn looked back and forth at both objects, until reluctantly placing the box back inside the chest and holding the harness closer to the stallion.

“Is this yours?” Rarity asked.

“Eeyup,” Mac said. His focus was kept on his chest pocket as he tried to straighten his handkerchief. “Made it myself.”

“It’s so adorable,” Rarity said with a giggle, “but why is it so worn?”

Mac stared at her as if she had grown another horn. “Because Ah wore it,” he said.

Rarity rolled her eyes, “Well obviously, but why is it so scratched and pitted.” She stared at the small harness, and her eyes crept to the larger one hanging on its nail. “You didn’t wear it for work, did you?”

“Why else would Ah wear it?” Macintosh asked, straightening his cufflinks.

“Well, I imagined that you wanted to emulate your father and made this harness to wear just like him. I can’t imagine you working with this, I could imagine Sweetie Belle fitting into this.”

“First off, Miss Rarity, my dad never wore that harness,” Macintosh said as he nodded toward his yoke, “my mom did. Second, Ah was a bit older than Sweetie Belle when I started workin’. Ah was small for my age back then.”

Rarity didn’t seem to listen. She had dropped the little harness from her magic and held it in her hoof. She turned it over and over, examining every insignificant curve and scratch.

“Rarity?”

She jerked her head up to meet his eyes. “Forgive me, Macintosh, I simply…couldn’t stop thinking of Sweetie Belle wearing this.”

“Ah can’t really see it suiting ‘er, but if ya think she’d like it then go ahead an’ take it,” Macintosh said.

Rarity levitated the harness back into the chest, closed its lid, and shut the closet door. “No, I don’t think it would suit her. Honestly, I don’t think anypony so young should wear it.”

Macintosh rubbed the back of his neck. Sure, he didn’t have the best fashion sense, but he didn’t think it was that bad.

-*-

The gentle breeze carried small white tufts of fluff across the park. Macintosh smiled as he watched them fly by. It almost seemed like snow in the middle of summer. A few of them landed on the lake’s surface and bobbed up and down in the gentle waves and ripples. What made the park all the better was the surprisingly small amount of ponies. It wouldn’t last, Macintosh knew. They had arrived early since Pinkie Pie and Applejack were catering the event. Still, he couldn’t help but notice a few familiar faces amongst the thin crowd. He was even glad to see a familiar mare with a cello slung across her back near the lake.

“Where is all this cotton coming from?” Rarity asked as she wiped her face free of the fluff.

Big Mac smiled. “Yer close, Miss Rarity. They’re seeds from a Cottonwood tree.” He looked up at the leaves of a nearby tree and, just as he expected, he spotted the wide, round leaves that tapered to a point. Chains of the white fuzz were tucked away amongst the green.

“Whatever it is it’s getting all over your mane,” Rarity said. She started picking out the white down, much to Mac’s annoyance. He could only stand and put up with her fussing. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of how long it had been since his last haircut. He got enough of that back at the farm when she was mussing up his mane. His tail had gotten longer as well, and unfortunately she hadn’t used her magic when she applied whatever product she had used on his mane. Thankfully he was able to talk her out of any elaborate styling. He didn’t care how curly stallions in Manehattan were wearing their tails, there were just some things he would never be willing to try.

Rarity, meanwhile, had done little with her mane and tail other than what she did daily. Her cream-colored dress had all the pleats and lacing he had expected from her, and yet it seemed almost plain for the fashion designer. It took him the length of the train ride to place it, but he finally realized what was bothering him. While the design had every bit the style that he expected from her, it lacked any of the color or sequined flare he had seen on the dresses worn by the Boutique’s mannequins.

“Something catch your eye, Macintosh?” Rarity asked with a smile, finished with plucking the seeds out of his mane.

He quickly looked away with a blush. “Ya look awfully pretty as always, Miss Rarity,” he said, carefully choosing his words so he wouldn’t offend her with his next statement. “Ah couldn’t help noticing that yer dress doesn’t look as…sparkly as what ya usually wear.”

“Well of course not, sweetie,” Rarity said. “We’re going as a couple so we dress like one. It wouldn’t do if one outfit overpowered the other.”

Macintosh nodded though didn’t quite understand. He didn’t ask her to elaborate. He didn’t think it would help. They stopped by the lakeside where a long table was dressed with flower-filled vases. Ponies were still dashing to the glass and silver stands interspersed throughout to set down bowls of fruit and plates of cheese. Macintosh watched them flitter back and forth in order to make sure everything was absolutely perfect, even turning a few grapes to properly reflect the sun to the empty center of the table.

Rarity tapped his shoulder and pointed toward a couple of unicorns levitating a larger-than-life ice sculpture of a unicorn stallion. They rested the sculpture at the table’s center and left it to glitter in the sun. The sculpture looked a bit familiar. Almost as if he had met the model. Mac couldn’t quite place it.

“Strange how stallions always enlarge certain parts of their bodies in works of art,” he heard a familiar voice say. “Horns for unicorns, wings for pegasus, and always the chest and hooves for any kind of pony. Though I suppose you’d no need of that, right Macintosh?”

“Howdy, Miss Octavia,” Macintosh said. She didn’t greet him or even look at him, but simply walked right to the table, her attention on the statue instead. He followed her eyes and looked at the ice a bit more closely. She was right. He didn’t think even Princess Celestia had a horn that long. The more he stared the more he started to notice a bit more incongruities with the form. The chest seemed much larger while the pony’s stomach and back end were just a bit too narrow.

“He’s really outdone himself this time,” Octavia said, her eyes lowering to stare at the sculpture’s base. A golden plaque was attached to the ice, and Macintosh leaned in to read the bold lettering:

Self

A Sculpture by Prince Vladimir Blueblood

Now he recognized who the statue was supposed to be.

“Looks like our good prince is playing at being an artiste,” Octavia said. She placed her cello on the ground and, once certain it wouldn’t fall over, turned to Macintosh and gave him a smile. “A pleasure to see you again, and I told you it’s simply Octavia.”

“You playing for the picnic?” he asked.

“What gave you that idea?”

“Ah had an inklin’,” Macintosh said with a smile.

Octavia smiled back. “I might have some free time before ponies start storming in full force.” She took a step toward him. “Perhaps we can-“ Rarity’s throat clearing interrupted her, and she stepped forward and pressed her side against Mac’s.

“Oh sorry,” Macintosh said. “Octavia this is Rarity, and Rarity this is Octavia.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Rarity said.

Octavia raised an eyebrow and examined her carefully. “The Element of Generosity, correct?”

“That’s right,” Rarity said with a proud smile. “In fact I-“

“Are you his wife?”

Rarity’s face turned a bright red. “N-no,” she said. She cleared her throat once again and tried to regain her composure. “I’m his date.”

“Good,” Octavia said with a smile, “then it looks like we’ll have to share.”

“Is that so?” Rarity asked, her voice coming low. “Well I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not the sort of mare to share a date.”

“Not very generous of you,” Octavia said with a sly smirk.

“Generosity has its limits,” Rarity said, returning with her own glare.

“Oh I suppose so,” Octavia said in the sweetest voice Mac only heard once before. “I imagine that your looks get you the rest of the way.” Macintosh held his breath, morbidly curious of the unicorn’s reaction.

Rarity’s glare softened and her face took on a pleasant smile. “Oh, well a mare does what she can. Though I must say I envy your ability to just roll out of bed, put on a such a badly pressed bowtie, and not even care.”

Octavia’s smirk seemed to vanish for just a split second before coming back in full force. “Sadly I’m simply too busy developing actual talent instead of staring into a mirror for hours on end.”

“Talent?” Rarity asked. She tilted her head and raised a hoof to her chin. “Oh yes, your cello. I remember hearing you play at the Grand Galloping Gala.” She shrugged. “Medium talent.”

For the first time Macintosh saw Octavia lose her smirk and glare at Rarity. “What did you say?” she asked, her voice coming dark.

“Me-di-um talent.”

“Why you little broo-“

“Hey that looks like a mighty fine table over there,” Macintosh interrupted. He pointed to a nearby table beneath the shade of a Cottonwood tree. “How ‘bout we sit down and talk away from the heat?”

“That sounds like a fine idea,” Octavia said. Her voice lost its dark quality and went back to being overly sweet. Mac didn’t think it much of an improvement. “Obviously we have much to discuss.”

“Yes, we do,” Rarity added, giving Mac a sideways look that was not at all comforting to see. Macintosh swallowed, and wondered what in the heck he got himself into. He led the way to the table, and the mares made sure to stand on either side of him. A deathly silence followed them until they each sat beneath the shade.

“Nice to see ya again, Octavia,” Macintosh said, eager to break the tension engulfing the three.

“Same,” Octavia said. “It’s a shame you didn’t come alone.”

“I invited him,” Rarity said, “he wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me.”

Macintosh wished for the insufferable tension would just evaporate. If only they would solve their problem the way Apples did: with yelling and fighting and perhaps a bit of drinking if it was during a family reunion. Anything had to be better than bearing this undercurrent of dislike. Even now the mares were glaring at each other silently, waiting for one to speak so that the other could rebut. Finally, a shining light appeared in the form of a familiar regal voice.

“Apple, can’t I go to one gathering in Canterlot without running into you?”

Macintosh released the breath he didn’t know he had been holding in. He actually smiled before turning to face the prince. “Blueblood, thank Celestia yer here.”

Blueblood flicked his blond mane. “How I wish I could share in your joy, but a farmer in the presence of a prince can’t feel the same as a prince in the presence of a farmer. However, I am the co-organizer along with Fancy Pants, so it is my duty to greet our many distinguished guests…and you.”

Octavia coughed and caught Blueblood’s attention. “Ah, Blueblood, I’m actually glad you’re here as well.”

“Is that so?” Blueblood said, narrowing an eye in suspicion.

“Yes, I actually have some pent up frustrations that I would like to vent. So where should we start? Shall I begin by pointing out how your miserable attempt at self-sculpture reveals an effort to overcompensate for a certain physical deficiency, how your ego is so gigantic it could block out the sun, the moon, and most of the sky, or shall I just skip the pleasantries and simply imply your homosexuality?”

“Don’t insult my sculpture. I worked for hours on it.”

“So sorry,” Octavia said. “I’m sure your throat is still sore from barking orders at the ponies who ‘helped’ you.”

Blueblood scoffed, his face getting redder by the second. When he spoke, the words came slowly and carefully. “Well, I see I’m not welcomed here. Fine, I’ll leave you in peace. I just wanted to say, on behalf of Fancy Pants and myself, please enjoy our picnic.” With that and another flick of his mane, he left their table. Mac’s eyes followed him as he headed off to the far side of the lake.

“I feel much better,” Octavia said, and judging by her genuine smile Mac knew she was telling the truth.

“As much as I feel that was uncalled for,” Rarity said, “I couldn’t help but enjoy it a little.”

“Ah thought it was a bit harsh,” Mac said. “Looked to me like he was actually gonna break into tears.” Despite his objection, Macintosh had to admit that he was glad the mares didn’t want to go at each other’s throats anymore. At least now the three had something to talk about.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Octavia said, “he doesn’t have feelings. And if you ask me, I thought I treated him exactly as he deserved to be treated. I’m sure Rarity agrees with me. She’s had the most experience with him, I believe.”

“I, well,” Rarity said, caught off guard, “I suppose it was a bit harsh, but I can’t say I regret Octavia’s actions. No offense to Blueblood but it seems that whenever I spend time with him it always ends…less than ideal.”

“I can imagine,” the cellist said with a smirk.

“A little maturity please, Octavia,” Rarity said, scowling.

“A little fun please, Rarity,” Octavia responded.

“What do you two got against Blueblood anyway?” Macintosh asked.

“You know me, Macintosh, I don’t hold a grudge,” Rarity said, “but it doesn’t seem like he’s putting much effort to change ever since that fiasco at the Grand Galloping Gala. It’s almost as if he doesn’t even realize his behavior needs to change.”

“What about you, Octavia?” Macintosh said. “What do you got against him?”

“You mean besides the fact that he’s an arrogant ninny that thinks he rules everything the light touches and thus is allowed to treat everypony like something a dog excreted?” Octavia said.

“Eeyup?”

“No reason,” Octavia said. “Just know that me and Blueblood have never known each other that well, and in fact we would never run into each other if we didn’t belong to the same circles. But the prince’s actions and decisions have far reaching consequences, something that Blueblood hasn’t gotten through his thick, filly-haired, skull. Now can we please change the subject? You’re making me regret spending time with you.”

“Fair enough,” Mac said, positive that pushing the subject wouldn’t get him anywhere. “What would ya like to talk about?”

“Actually, as much as I enjoy the company, I need to find my quartet and begin rehearsing. It’s beginning to get crowded.” Octavia stood and slung her cello case around her back. Macintosh and Rarity said their goodbyes, which Octavia returned.

“You need any help carryin’ yer cello?” Mac asked.

“No, I’m fine, but if you decide to actually enjoy yourself today feel free to find me.” She gave him a wink, and sauntered off. Big Mac couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“The nerve,” Rarity scoffed. “I don’t know what you see in her.”

“She’s sure of herself,” Macintosh said. “Whenever Ah’m around ‘er Ah feel like this is a mare that knows what she wants, knows how to get it, and ain’t afraid to tell ponies to get outta her way.” A smile crept onto his face as a soft chuckle escaped him. “If she wanted to Ah’d bet she’d make a better farmer than me.”

“If you ask me she and Prince Blueblood have more in common than either would like to admit,” Rarity said.

“Ah guess Ah could see that, though Ah think Blueblood might be prettier,” Macintosh said. His joke managed to grab a small smile from Rarity. “You hungry? Ah could get some food for us.”

“Actually I am rather famished,” Rarity said. She looked over at the table with the ice sculpture. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, sweetie, I’d like something a bit more substantial than grapes and cheese.”

Macintosh stood up. “Ah’ll walk around an’ see if they put out any other food. Ah’m sure Applejack and Pinkie Pie managed to make a few things.”

“Don’t be long,” Rarity said with a smile. “I’d like to start enjoying myself.”

Macintosh nodded and walked off to find some food. Looking around, he saw that most of the tables were arranged in a circle concentric to the lakeside. Every couple of dozen yards or so he would find a new one, dressed almost exactly the same as the one he first saw minus the ice sculpture. Each one had a few empty plates where food would surely go once it was ready.

As he walked around the park, Macintosh noticed how many more ponies had appeared since he and Rarity arrived. Everywhere he looked there were ponies conversing at tables set up beneath a canopy of leaves. A few croquet sets had been brought out, and several unicorns were rolling colorful balls through wickets. Mac could even see a large putting green in another far off part of the park.

Thankfully, the park stretched for several acres, so Mac could breathe easy. It wasn’t at all like the dessert competition where he could barely move without grazing sides with someone.

The lake wasn’t too big around, and so he arrived at the other side rather quickly. Finally he saw a couple of well suited ponies place a few trays of food onto a nearby table. The clink of metal platters garnered the attention of other ponies, and Mac knew that he’d have to get at it quick before there was nothing left.

By the time he got to the table, a mare with an orange and gold mane and wearing a blue pressed jacket was already piling tarts and slices of apple pie onto a plate. Mac didn’t have to see her face to realize who it was.

“Howdy there, Miss Spitfire,” he said as he stood next to her and started making his own plate.

Spitfire turned her head with a cherry tart in her mouth. She quickly put it back on her plate. “Hey there, Mac. Didn’t expect to see you here. And just call me Spit, all my friends do.”

“Sure,” Mac said. “Soarin here too?”

“Nah, these gigs aren’t really his thing. He’s back in Cloudsdale training with the rest of the Bolts,” Spitfire said. “You here with Rainbow Dash?”

Mac shook his head, and wondered if Dash ever told her the truth about their relationship. He didn’t want to face the awkwardness of setting things straight now. If she asked then he would answer. No need to make things more complicated than that. “Ah’m here with Rarity. Ah don’t know if ya know her but-”

“Rarity? Sure I know her,” Spitfire said. She carefully placed her plate on her back, and Macintosh marveled at how she could keep the pile of pie, tarts, quiches, and cookies perfectly balanced. “I practically know everypony. You wouldn’t mind if I interrupt you two to say hi, would you?”

“Course not,” Mac said, placing his more modestly adorned plate on his back. “Heck, it’d be nice to have ya there.”

“Lead the way,” Spitfire said, and Mac gladly did. The two walked silently for a few seconds until she spoke up again. “You sure it’d be fine? I’m sure you two wouldn’t want a third wing around.”

“It’s fine,” Mac assured her. “Truth be told Ah’d like a third pony around.”

“Yeah? Why?”

Macintosh rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure if he should say or not. He didn’t exactly know Spitfire all that well. Then again, if there was anyone that could shine some light on the situation it would be Spitfire. “Soarin told me back in Cloudsdale that before you two got together y’all were just friends. Ah think he called it the friend zone.”

“Oh, it’s one of those things,” Spitfire said with a sagely nod. “You and Rarity, huh? Who’s doing it to who?”

“Ah wouldn’t go that far,” Mac said with a blush. “Heck, for all Ah know Rarity might just be having a bit of fun with flirtin’ with me. But sometimes Ah wonder if...”

“If she wants something more,” Spitfire finished for him. Mac nodded. “Would that be so bad?”

“She’s my friend,” Mac said, “and she’s one of my little sister’s best friends.”

“I get it,” Spitfire said. “So on top of the whole ‘don’t wanna ruin the friendship’ thing you also got a ‘don’t want my little sister to hate me’ thing. It’s a tough spot to be in, but this sorta thing doesn’t come easy. Sometimes the rewards outweigh the risks, and when that happens you gotta go for it.”

“How do ya know when that happens?”

“I’m a daredevil, knowing that comes naturally for me. I can’t tell you whether to go for it or not, I don’t know your feelings and I don’t know Rarity’s,” Spitfire said. “Though I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s thought about this as much as you.”

“When did ya decide to be with Soarin?” Macintosh asked. “Was it when he wrote that love letter for ya?”

“No,” Spitfire said. “I actually didn’t see the letter, by the time I finally noticed it the wind had moved the clouds around. But he was just so eager to impress me that I lied and said I did. No offense to the guy, but I was never the kind of mare to swoon over big over-the-top acts of romance, you know? I just sorta...knew it was right.” Macintosh quirked an eyebrow to the mare, and Spitfire hummed in thought. “It’s like doing a feint. If I rely on my head to tell me when to pull up I’m just going to do it too soon. Not as dramatic to a crowd. I have to rely on my gut. A feeling that lets me know it’s the right time.”

Macintosh nodded. “I get it.”

“So what’s your gut telling you?” Spitfire asked.

Mac chuckled. He thought it was a bit too personal, so he simply told her what he was comfortable with. “To keep things from gettin’ too complicated.”

“Good luck,” Spitfire said with a smile. “Life’s complicated. Thank goodness for flying. I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t get in the sky, feel the wind blow through my feathers, and let my mind go blank.”

Macintosh gave her a nod. “What would ya do if ya couldn’t?”

Spitfire stopped dead in her tracks, and Mac had to take a few steps back to keep next to her. “Geez Mac, you don’t have to be such a downer,” she said while getting back into her pace.

“Ah didn’t mean to be,” Mac said. “Ah was just curious.”

“To be honest I don’t know what I’d do,” Spitfire said. “Flying is something I can’t live without. I think I might go crazy. Like, imagine something you can’t live without doing, and then imagine what’d it be like if you couldn’t do it anymore.”

Macintosh nodded. “Ah think Ah’d go crazy too.” Soon Rarity appeared in the distance. She stood a bit away from the table and surrounded by ponies that all seemed eager to talk to her. Macintosh couldn’t help but notice how gracefully she gestured her hoof as she talked to them. She would speak and then the others would break into laughter. It all seemed to come so easily to her. She suddenly saw Macintosh and Spitfire, and politely excused herself from the crowd. The three joined up at the table.

“Brought some food, Rarity,” Mac said while placing the plate onto the table next to Spitfire’s. “And company,” he added.

“Hello, Spitfire,” Rarity said before grabbing a quiche. “A pleasure to see you again.”

“Same here,” Spitfire said. “Thought I’d stop by to say hi. So how are you enjoying the picnic so far?”

“The park is beautiful, and quite a few ponies are interested in buying some dresses,” Rarity said, “but I’m afraid my mood has been a bit dampened by a mare named Octavia.”

“The cellist?” Spitfire asked.

“That’s right,” Rarity said, surprised. “Do you know her?”

“Sure, she’s a friend of mine.”

“Really?” Rarity said. “If you don’t mind me asking, how do you...put up with her?”

Spitfire laughed. “Yeah, she’s got a mouth on her. I remember when I first met her she asked a pretty personal question about me, Soarin, and a cloud five thousand two hundred and eighty feet in the air.”

“Weren’t you offended?” Rarity asked.

“What? By Octavia? Nah,” Spitfire said with a smile. “I just laughed and gave her a friendly punch on the shoulder. After she stopped swearing I apologized and we’ve been friends ever since.”

Rarity shook her head. “Well I was. I just can’t imagine ever calling her a friend.”

“Take it easy,” Spitfire said with a smile. “Sometimes you make the best friends by swallowing your pride a little. Take me and Soarin for example. We met at our first preliminary tryouts. We both screwed up, and he offered to teach me how to do sharper turns if I taught him how to get better acceleration. Back then, if you wanted to offend me all ya had to do was critique my flying, but I thought he was kind of cute so instead of acting all high and mighty I decided to take his offer. Years later, we’re both better flyers for it and we’re as close as any couple.”

“That’s a very sweet story,” Rarity said, “but it’s entirely different from me and Octavia.”

“She’s not all bad,” Spitfire said. Suddenly the sound of far-off strings drifted lazily to their table, and all three ponies looked in the same direction. “You just can’t take what she says personally. I’ll tell you what, how about we go and watch her perform. She’s her best when she’s playing the cello.”

“I don’t know Spitfire,” Rarity said. “Perhaps I should simply let it go.”

“Aw c’mon,” Spitfire said. “You won’t even have to talk to her. Trust me, once you see her play the cello you’ll see her in a new light. Seeing a pony in their element is the best way to see what they’re all about.” Rarity didn’t say anything, so she continued. “If I could help one pony understand another I’d consider it my good deed for the day.”

“Well when you put it that way I suppose it would be rather wrong of me not to try,” Rarity said with a sigh.

“That’s the spirit. You can come too, Mac,” Spitfire said.

“Ah think Ah’ll join ya a little later, Ah gotta go to the little colts room,” Mac said.

“Do hurry,” Rarity said. “I’d feel better if you were there.”

Macintosh nodded, and the three went their separate ways. Truth be told he wasn’t looking for a bathroom, not that it was a particularly clever excuse to separate from the group. Spitfire’s words got him thinking about Prince Blueblood. Perhaps, much like Rarity and Octavia, all the two really needed to get along was to know each other better. The least Macintosh could do was reach out and meet the prince halfway. Besides, he felt that Octavia had been too harsh to him, and he wanted to apologize.

Before going on the search, Mac decided to quickly head for one of the tables laden with treats. He would need all the help he could get with this, and if there was any pony that could still be mean when given a slice of apple pie, well, that was a pony he didn’t want to bother with.

With a plate of apple pie on his head, Macintosh scanned the park for any sign of the prince. He finally saw him standing under the shade of a Cottonwood tree, quietly watching the white fuzz drift to the ground. Mac walked over to him, and Blueblood’s face hardened as he saw who approached.

“What in the world do you want, you hick?” he asked.

He ignored the insult. “Ah just came by ta see how you were doin’,” Macintosh said, lowering his peace offering to the ground and pushing it toward Blueblood. “Ah thought Octavia was pretty mean to ya and Ah wanted to apologize for her.”

“I don’t need your pity, you inbred hillbilly,” Blueblood spat, “so why don’t you take your peasant dish, leave me alone, and go back to your dirty little farm where you belong. Do you need directions? You look too stupid to remember the way back.”

Mac furrowed his eyebrows and glared at the prince. “Ah don’t like being called names, Blueblood.”

“What are you going to do about it?” the prince asked, standing and stepping forward to return Mac’s glare. “Call me a frilly-haired, arrogant ninny like everypony else?”

Big Mac took a deep breath, and forced himself to calm down. “No Blueblood. Ah ain’t that mean, and if a pony had come to see how Ah was feelin’ and brought me a slice of apple pie Ah would’ve at least said thanks,” he said, taking back the slice of pie. To his surprise, Blueblood took a step back and sighed despondently.

“Just leave me alone, Apple,” he said. Macintosh nodded and left the prince to his thoughts.

At least he had tried. Maybe some ponies were never meant to be friends. If Blueblood didn’t want anything to do with Mac then that was just fine. The stallions could go their separate ways and try to stay out of each other’s business. Hopefully Rarity would have better luck with Octavia.

Speaking of which, he supposed he should go find the others. Some gentle music would do much for his mood. He followed the sound of strings and, after apologizing to a group of ponies after walking into their croquet field, managed to find a rather large group of ponies standing around a raised platform where a string quartet played.

He soon found Rarity and Spitfire toward the back of the crowd, and managed to squeeze right next to them and placed his plate of apple pie beside him. Before he could say a greeting, Spitfire placed a hoof on her lips to keep him silent and pointed to Rarity. To his surprise, she actually had a smile on her face. Following her gaze, he understood why.

Spitfire had been right. Octavia in her element revealed much about her. Her eyes were shut as she felt her way up and down her cello’s neck. She stood tall and proud and completely at peace. She seemed almost regal. They stayed there listening to song after song for a couple of hours until Octavia announced a lengthy intermission.

“That was actually very delightful,” Rarity said as the quartet began to tweak their instruments and the crowd around them began to thin. Macintosh took a deep breath as he finally felt released from the crowd.

“I knew you’d like it,” Spitfire said with a smile. “So are ya ready to talk to her?”

“Let’s not rush into things,” Rarity quickly said. “Although, I suppose if she wished to sit at our table I wouldn’t mind. Of course I don’t know how we’ll ever persuade her to do so.”

“So if Ah invite her to sit with us at the table ya wouldn’t mind?” Macintosh asked.

“Why would you do a thing like that?” Rarity asked.

“Cause Ah wanna spend time with her without feelin’ like Ah gotta choose sides,” Mac said. “No better way to do that than gettin’ you two on friendly terms.”

“I suppose I can understand where you’re coming from,” Rarity said reluctantly. “If you want to invite her then I won’t mind. However, perhaps you could talk to her about... keeping the peace?”

Macintosh smiled. “Ah’ll talk to her.”

“Who knows,” Spitfire interjected, “this might be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. We’ll wait for you guys back at the table.” Rarity nodded in agreement and the two mares headed back the way they came. Macintosh, meanwhile, grabbed the plate of apple pie and headed for the platform.

Octavia and three other ponies warmed up their instruments, sometimes turning a peg to finely tune the strings just right. Octavia looked up from her cello and noticed Macintosh. She gave him a smile and beckoned him over.

“Got time to talk?” Macintosh asked.

“Does this mean you choose me over Rarity,” Octavia asked with a smirk.

Macintosh returned it. “It means Ah enjoy yer company and Ah wanna talk to ya.”

“In that case, I need to stay and rehearse,” she said.

Mac placed the apple pie on the ground. “Ah brought some food to tempt ya with.”

Octavia leered at the plate, and turned her head away from it. “Sorry, but I’m afraid your apple pie has ruined me for others. I hope you’re happy.”

“It’s my sister’s recipe,” Mac said, more than ready to defend Applejack’s baking, “pretty much the same thing except for an ingredient or two.”

“That ingredient or two makes all the difference.”

“Pretty please,” Mac said, giving her his best smile. “For me?”

Octavia chuckled before addressing the other musicians. “Start rehearsing Quartet Number Sixty-Two in C major. I’ll be right back.”

“Cocky of you to skip rehearsal,” one of the violinists said, a cream colored mare with a purple mane striped in a lighter hue.

“Symphony, the day I make a mistake is the day Princess Celestia presents herself to me in a translucent gossamer gown much too short for her. If I were you, I would spend less time questioning me and more time trying to remember that the second movement’s key signature changes to G major in cut time.”

Symphony responded with nothing but a glare before counting to four and leading the rest of the string quartet through the song.

“You’re lucky you’re so handsome,” Octavia said to Mac while settling her cello safely inside its case. She slung it across her back and began walking beside the lakeside. Macintosh didn’t hesitate to join her.

“Maybe Ah’m lucky yer so shallow,” Mac countered with a smile.

“If I was truly shallow I would be dating Blueblood right now, planning his ‘accidental’ death.” Macintosh quirked an eyebrow at her, which elicited another smirk from the cellist. “Arsenic in his food in almost insignificant doses given through years, perhaps decades. Practically untraceable except for the markings it leaves on the hooves. I would have to dispose of them separately.”

“Should Ah be worried that you know so much about that?” Macintosh asked.

“I read a lot of detective novels,” Octavia explained.

Mac chuckled and spent some time watching the white fluff fall onto the lake. The words he would say next had to be carefully chosen. “So,” he began, “Ah thought that you might like to join me at a table.”

“Will Rarity be there?”

“Eeyup.”

“Then I think I might need to go back and rehearse.”

“What do you got against her?” Macintosh asked.

“Nothing really,” Octavia said. “I feel she has something against me, and I’m sorry but I can’t be held responsible if she get’s offended by what I say. Besides, she called me medium talent. I simply can’t forgive that.”

“Should Ah remind ya that you were about ta call her the worst thing you could call a mare before Ah interrupted?” Macintosh countered.

“That’s exactly right. You interrupted. If I had finished my insult then we would be even. Since that wasn’t the case I’m afraid I can’t be around her without evening the score.” Macintosh groaned as he tried to think of what to say next. Before he could speak, however, Octavia continued. “Of course, there might be other ways to even the score.”

Macintosh narrowed his eyes at her, more than a little suspicious. “Like?”

“You give me a kiss,” Octavia said.

“How would that even things out?” Mac asked.

“It would give me something over her. Something I can hold over her head if she ever dares to call me a mediocre musician again. I can imagine it now. ‘Oh Octavia, you play the cello? I thought you were torturing a cat.’ Then I could simply respond with ‘I kissed your date. Our tongues flailed against each other like lovers in the throes of passion.’ That will shut her mouth.”

“Sorry Octavia,” Mac said, “but Ah don’t kiss mares so that they have a way to quiet one of my friends. Besides, Rarity was listening to ya and she was pretty impressed by yer playin’.”

Octavia’s eyes lit up. “Is that so? Maybe she has some taste after all.” She stopped walking and rubbed her chin for a moment. “I suppose if she apologizes then we can start with a clean slate.”

“Will ya try to pull a few punches when ya tease her?” Mac asked.

“One step at a time,” Octavia said.

Macintosh smiled, it was the best he could do. Hopefully things would work themselves out eventually.

“Need any help with yer cello?” he asked.

“Again, no.”

The two fell into an easy silence. The park had become much more crowded since he first arrived, and Macintosh was glad that he could stand with one side to the lake and the other to Octavia. He spotted a tree without many ponies around it and sat down beneath it right beside the lake. Octavia sat next to him, just close enough that their back legs touched each other gently. He didn’t mind. Closing his eyes for a minute he listened to the Cottonwood’s leaves, and he heard the sound of crashing waves. “Yer mighty sure about playin’ the cello, not even botherin’ to rehearse.”

Octavia smiled and her gaze seemed lost on the surface of the lake. “Macintosh, the cello is who I am. When I have a bow in my fetlock and when I play a suite or a sonata is when I am most sure of myself and my abilities. No pony can touch me, even criticize me. Not as a cellist and not as a pony. So yes, I am ‘mighty sure’ about playing the cello.”

Macintosh smiled, having seen her passion firsthand. He joined her in watching the lake. “What would you do if ya couldn’t play the cello anymore?”

Octavia blinked. “That depends. Have I conquered the world and now rule my subjects with an iron hoof?”

“Uh…nnope?” Mac said.

“Then suicide it is then.”

“Octavia!” he exclaimed, honestly surprised.

The cellist laughed. “It’s just a joke, Macintosh. Don’t take it so seriously. Actually I would pick up the violin, and when the soul-crushing humiliation of playing such a small, unsatisfying instrument proves too much then I would commit suicide.”

Macintosh shook his head. “Sometimes Ah don’t know if yer jokin’ or not.”

“Good,” Octavia said. “That way if I say something that offends you I can just say it was a joke.”

“Kinda strange that yer takin’ my feelings into consideration. Ya don’t seem to do that often for ponies.”

“I like you, so I’ll gladly filter myself a little. Though if you manage to get on my bad side then I can’t be held responsible for how you feel about what I say.”

Macintosh chuckled. “Deal.”

They laughed with each other and spent the next few minutes watching the seeds from the trees float and dangle in the wind. Macintosh idly wondered if throwing Octavia into the lake would get him on her bad side. It would be funny, though. Plus he’d like to see her reaction and see what kind of pony she was. Before he could think it through, however, a pony clearing their throat interrupted his thoughts.

Looking up, Macintosh was surprised to find Blueblood standing a few feet away. He wouldn’t make eye contact with either of them, and instead kept his eyes to the ground. Octavia was the first to stand and acknowledge him.

“Have you come to endure my words?” she asked.

Blueblood scoffed and raised his head. “I would like to speak with Apple in private.”

“Whatever you say to him you can say in front of me.”

For a moment Blueblood gritted his teeth until taking a deep breath to regain his composure. “Please.”

“It’ll be fine, Octavia,” Mac said, standing.

Octavia looked from Macintosh to Blueblood before giving the former a nod. “Make sure to call me if things escalate into a fight. I wouldn’t want to miss it. I suppose I should head over to the table where we first sat? Are you sure Rarity will apologize?”

“Eeyup, just make sure you ask nicely.”

“I’ll try.” Octavia gave him a smile, one that disappeared once she looked over at Blueblood. With a final pat on Mac’s side she went in the direction of the table, not bothering to look back.

“How do you do that?” Blueblood asked.

“Do what?” Mac answered with his own question.

“Make ponies like you,” Blueblood said. “Rarity and Fancy Pants at the museum, Octavia at the National Dessert Competition, the captain of the Wonderbolts at this very picnic. It’s not fair. I’m a prince, you’re just a farmer. They should be clamoring over themselves to be my friends.” The prince sighed and kicked at the dirt. “I don’t understand.”

Macintosh nodded. “Friendship’s a pretty weird thing, I’ll give ya that, but Ah’m pretty sure it’s got somethin’ to do with being nice to ponies. Heck, Blueblood, why do ya think ponies make friends in the first place? So they can get called mean names?” Macintosh couldn’t help but be reminded of Rarity and Octavia.

“Well…no,” he admitted, “but I’m a prince, certainly I’m allowed a bit of freedom in that regard. Think of all the connections I could provide.”

“Ah think yer gonna have a hard time makin’ friends if ya think that’s enough,” Mac said.

The prince scoffed. “I’ll have you know I have friends, Apple. I’m not some pitiful stallion left all alone in the world.”

“Prince Blueblood, there you are,” a voice called out to them. Macintosh looked and saw Fancy Pants coming toward the two. He couldn’t be too surprised at his presence. He did organize the picnic, after all.

“There’s one of them now,” Blueblood said with a smile. “Hello Fancy Pants, I just finished greeting the guests.”

“Good to hear,” Fancy Pants said before noticing the farmer, “Ah, Mr. Apple, wonderful to see you again.”

“Howdy, Fancy Pants,” Mac said.

“I’d like to thank Sweet Apple Acres for providing the catering.” Fancy Pants said. “The food is incredibly delicious.”

“No problem, it was our pleasure,” Mac said. “Though you should thank my sister and her friend for makin’ the food. Real masters in the kitchen, those two.”

“Uh, Fancy Pants?” Blueblood interrupted their conversation and took a step forward. “I was wondering, now that I finished greeting all the guests, I could have a bit of your time and show you the ice sculpture I made of myself.”

“Of course,” Fancy Pants said, “I’d be happy to see what you’ve made. Especially since you were so determined to have it displayed here. Would you like to join us, Macintosh?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said, “it’s right near where Rarity’s waiting for me anyway.”

“Perfect, I have yet to greet her,” Fancy Pants said.

Blueblood led the way to his ice sculpture while Macintosh and Fancy Pants walked beside each other a few feet behind the prince.

“Ya know,” Macintosh began, filling in the silence with a question he had been pondering, “Ah was kinda surprised when Ah found out that you were the one behind organizing the picnic.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t know,” Blueblood said, “but Fancy Pants is practically the social hub of Canterlot. If ponies gather within the city then it is most assuredly Fancy Pants that is behind it.”

Fancy Pants chuckled. “I suppose that is one perspective.”

“Must take up a lot of your time,” Macintosh said.

“It does, but I don’t mind at all,” Fancy Pants said. “You could say organizing social events is my hobby. Picnics, art viewings, charity events, auctions, that sort of thing. Canterlot is my playground and I enjoy sharing it with good friends.”

“Ah never thought of ya as the sort to do all that,” Macintosh said honestly.

Fancy Pants nodded. “Regrettably most ponies don’t. I know some ponies believe that all the wealthy do is lay about their yachts without a care in the world, but whether rich or poor a pony needs to belong somewhere. Don’t you agree?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said. “A pony needs to belong somewhere.”

“For me that place is the middle of a group of ponies, conversing, sharing ideas, sharing stories and common experiences. It’s what I most enjoy.”

Macintosh nodded, mulling over his words. Finally they had arrived at their destination, and Mac could see his table with Rarity, Spitfire, and even Octavia sitting and conversing peacefully. Rarity was the first notice and greet them.

“There you are, Macintosh,” Rarity said as the group of stallions approached Blueblood’s sculpture. Spitfire and Octavia soon joined her, and, for a moment, Macintosh didn’t know who he should introduce to whom. Thankfully the problem soon resolved itself.

“Lovely to see you again, Rarity,” Fancy Pants said, “and the same to you Spitfire and Octavia.”

“Hey there, Fancy,” Spitfire said.

“Fancy Pants.” Octavia offered her own greeting with a small bow of her head. She then addressed the farmpony. “Macintosh, you didn’t tell me you knew Fancy Pants,” she said. Macintosh only shrugged, not much in the mood to explain.

“If I could talk to you about my sculpture,” Blueblood said to Fancy Pants.

“In time, Blueblood,” Fancy Pants said happily, “but first let us sit down and converse. We have quite the interesting ensemble of ponies, wouldn’t interesting conversation surely follow?”

“I...” Blueblood hesitated.

“Yes, prince,” Octavia said with a smirk, “sit with us. It’s sure to be interesting. Then we could hear all about your art.”

Blueblood glared at Octavia. “I suppose if you insist,” he said through gritted teeth.

Fancy Pants didn’t seem to notice the percolating tension between the two, and gladly sat at the table. Thankfully, it was big enough to fit all of them, if a bit snug. Fancy Pants was the first to start off conversation and soon the table was abuzz with good humor, along with a few quips here and there. Macintosh was glad to see that Rarity and Octavia seemed to be getting along better, though noticed that they still sometimes slipped an insult beneath their pleasant conversation. It was better than nothing.

Try as he might, Macintosh couldn’t get too involved in talk. Distracted as he was by all the information he had gathered that day. Everybody needed a place to belong to. For Spitfire it was the sky. For Rarity, the boutique. Octavia, the stage. Fancy Pants, the social circles of Canterlot. Macintosh...nowhere.

No, he had a place. He had the farm, he had his family. At least, until Applejack took it away. Was that really fair? Didn’t he deserve to have a place to belong to? Who was Applejack to say what was best for him? Wasn’t he the eldest? Wouldn’t he know what would be best for himself?

Oh, what was he thinking? Applejack was doing all this because she cared about him, because she was worried for him. How could he possibly work on the farm when all it would do was make Applejack sad and angry because of him. Still, he needed to talk to her, and really find out if this was okay. Could Applejack really take care of the whole farm by herself? Sure she was looking out for him, but, even if he was working too hard, he couldn’t just take an extended break at the farm without knowing for sure his family could hold up okay without him.

“Macintosh, are you feeling alright?” Fancy Pants asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You have been awfully quiet.” The rest of the table looked at his direction, and he wondered if he ever felt more self conscious.

“Ah’m fine,” Macintosh quickly said when an idea suddenly came to him. “Actually, Ah really need to tell my little sister somethin’. Do you know where the catering kitchen is?”

“Of course,” Fancy Pants said and pointed in a direction that led away from the lake. “If you keep that way you’ll soon find a large white tent. That’s where the kitchen is, and your sister.”

“Much obliged,” Mac said, standing. With a quick trot he made his way to the caterer’s tent. He kept telling himself over and over again that he just wanted to be sure. That he was keeping his family’s best interests at heart. This wouldn’t just be another attempt to get back to work. He just wanted to know he could afford not to.

The white tent came into view and Macintosh thought about what he would say. He had to be tactful. As soon as Applejack even caught a whiff of him trying to get back in front of a plow she would shut down and block out all of his reasoning. Maybe if he acted as if he was going to ask what he should do now that he wouldn’t be working as much. That sounded like a good idea.

Stopping just outside the tent flap, Macintosh took a deep breath, steeled his nerves, and entered. Immediately he was overcome by the sweet aroma of baking treats.

“Hey Macky!” Pinkie Pie said before pushing a pan filled with quiches into an oven.

“Howdy, big brother,” Applejack said, busy stirring a bowl of batter. “You need anything?”

“Ah just want to talk to ya,” Mac said. Applejack didn’t say anything and only waited for him to continue. He took another deep breath and braced himself. “Ah wanted to ask ya, uh,” he paused for a split second as a sudden realization came to him. “What would ya do if you couldn’t work on the farm anymore?”

Applejack stopped stirring, and placed the bowl back on the table. She stared at its contents for a few seconds. “Pinkie, ya mind giving me and Mac a bit of time to talk.” For once, Pinkie didn’t say anything. She only gave her friend a nod and popped out of the tent.

Applejack walked around the table and toward her big brother. She placed a gentle hoof on his shoulder and sighed. “Ah know this is tough for ya, truth be told it’d be hard for me too, but ya know why Ah’m askin’ ya to lighten up yer workload, don’t ya?”

“Of course Ah do,” Mac said, “but it just feels like Ah’m just passin’ the work off to you. That ain’t what a big brother’s supposed to do. A big brother’s supposed to make sure that his little sisters are happy, an’ Ah think you’d be happier if we went back to how things were. You playin’ with yer friends while Ah took care of the farm so you didn’t have to worry about it.”

“Mac, what’ll make me happy right now is knowin’ that my big brother is takin’ it easy for a while. It ain’t like ya ain’t doin’ anything around the farm. You still got yer chores, just not as much.”

“Ah know,” Big Mac said, “but are ya sure you can handle all that farm work?”

“Course Ah can,” Applejack said with a wide smile. “This is your sister Applejack, remember? The loyalest of friends and the most dependable of ponies.”

“The last time ya said that ya sent half of Ponyville to the clinic,” Mac said dryly.

“Doesn’t make it any less true, big brother,” Applejack said happily.

“If ya say so,” Mac said. “But Ah still ain’t got anything to do with all that time Ah used to spend on the farm. What would you do?”

“Me?” Applejack asked. “Ah’d save Equestria.”

Macintosh chuckled. “Too bad we all can’t do that.”

“It ain’t no picnic,” Applejack said. “Mac, ya just gotta find something to do that you’ll love as much as workin’ on the farm. For me that’s spendin’ time with great friends. It could be like that for you too.”

“Ah guess so,” Macintosh said with a sigh. “Ah better get back to Rarity. She’s probably wonderin’ where Ah got to.”

“She confess her love to ya yet?” Applejack said with a smile.

“Nnope, and Ah don’t think she’s gonna do it today,” Mac said dryly. “Ah’ll see ya later, sugarcube.”

“See ya, Mac,” Applejack said with a wave goodbye. She went back to her mixing bowl and resumed stirring the ingredients. “If ya see Pinkie go ahead and send her in. Knowin’ that mare she’s probably taste testin’ a bunch of the treats we made.”

Macintosh gave her a small smile and stepped out into the warm, summer air. He didn’t see Pinkie Pie anywhere, and assumed that Applejack was right in her suspicions. Taking a deep breath of the fresh air, he headed in no particular direction.

Big Mac was glad that he was able to talk to Applejack, but a bit disappointed that nothing else had really changed. He still had the same featherweight workload, the same obnoxious amount of free time, and nothing to fill it with. Sure he could spend a bit of time with friends but nowhere close to take up every minute of boredom that was sure to overtake him.

Try as he might, he couldn’t help but allow his mood to fall. He wished he could figure everything out already. He idly wondered if life always had to be so complicated.

-*-

Macintosh didn’t know how long he wandered through the park, all he knew was that by the time he returned to the ice sculpture the sun hovered gingerly over the horizon. Blueblood was speaking to the gathered group about his sculpture only to be greeted by Octavia’s scathing critique.

“I put five entire hours into perfecting the form,” Blueblood said.

“You should have made it ten,” Octavia retorted.

Blueblood tried his best to ignore her. “Of course, I took some liberties with the proportions.”

“Some things aren’t meant to be liberated.”

This back and forth continued on for most of Blueblood’s talk until Fancy Pants noticed Macintosh approaching the group. “Ah! Mr. Apple, you’ve returned and in the nick of time as well.” Macintosh could only manage a nod and a weak smile. “Macintosh, what do you think of Prince Blueblood’s sculpture? You’re the authority on art.”

“Him?” Blueblood asked, completely appalled. “He’s less qualified to critique my sculpture than the damn cellist!”

“No need for that, Blueblood,” Fancy Pants said. “Go ahead, Macintosh.”

Mac sighed and looked up at the sculpture. He thought of getting it over with and agreeing with Octavia. The pained look on Blueblood’s face, however, made him reconsider. Poor guy, his hard work being scrutinized for every little flaw. He might be a pain in the neck, but he was a pretty good sculptor. It wasn’t like Mac could do any better. All he was good for was pulling a stupid plow.

“I think it’s social commentary,” Macintosh said. “When ya take everythin’ that ponies think make a stallion handsome and exaggerate ‘em like that, ya start realizin’ how silly it all looks.”

“That’s exactly right,” Blueblood quickly added. “I meant for the proportions to be...skewed.”

Octavia chuckled. “My, Macintosh, I didn’t know you were such a merciful critic.”

“Yeah, I had no idea you were into art,” Spitfire added. “Guess you learn something new everyday, huh?” She stretched her wings with a tired sigh. “Well, it was nice hanging out with all of you, but I gotta get back home and scrutinize a stallion of my own.” She flapped her wings and took to the air. Everyone else said their goodbyes, and Spitfire returned them before flying back home.

“It is rather late,” Fancy Pants said. “However, before I go I would like to talk to the two of you,” he said to Octavia and Rarity, “and ask for your services in another event I’m organizing.”

“Of course,” Rarity said, “another social gathering?”

Fancy Pants nodded. “A charity auction. We can discuss the details over some dessert. Shall we head to a table?” Octavia and Rarity agreed and the three left Macintosh and Blueblood alone to stare at the sculpture.

“I suppose you want me to thank you,” Blueblood said.

“Would be nice,” Macintosh said. Blueblood didn’t say anything and Mac reveled in the silence until a sudden thought came to him. “You really like sculpting, huh?” Macintosh asked.

Blueblood only shrugged. “It’s one of my many hobbies, like baking or reading. Simply something to pass the time.”

“Mind if Ah ask ya a question?”

“Apple, we’re conversing while staring out at a sunset over a lake, it’s too late to ask my permission to speak. Otherwise I would end this conversation now,” Blueblood said.

“Guess yer right.”

“I’m always right.”

“Except when yer wrong.”

Blueblood scoffed and glared at the farmer. “Are you going to ask your question or not?”

Big Mac chuckled quietly. “You got a hobby or anythin’ that means a lot to ya?”

“What do you mean?”

“Ah mean do ya have somethin’ that ya gotta do, or else life doesn’t seem so...worth it.”

Blueblood laughed loudly. “Don’t be an idiot, Apple. My life is always worth it. Besides, I much rather not be tied down to hobbies or work. It’s better that way.” Macintosh raised an eyebrow at the prince and he continued. “I wouldn’t expect a farmer like you to understand, but I suppose I should be generous enough to try and explain.”

Big Mac grunted his annoyance, but the prince ignored him. “I enjoy allowing my whims to go where they may and having the resources to fulfill them. It’s amazing how wonderful distraction is. I will read a book about a famous painter, for instance, and am suddenly struck by the desire to do better than him. Then I go to my painting studio and paint for an hour or two before getting bored and occupying my time with some other activity like sculpture or writing.”

“Don’t ya ever feel useless?” Big Mac asked.

“Of course not,” Blueblood answered. “I’m royalty, I serve no one but myself, and therefore I never feel useless. Amazing how much commoners value themselves in relation to their servitude of others.” Macintosh opened his mouth to disagree, but Blueblood never gave him a chance. “Believe me, Apple. A life of leisure and relaxation, of artistic and intellectual pursuits and self-improvement, is much more fulfilling than a life filled with whatever work you do on a pile of dirt you call a farm.”

Macintosh sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “You gave me a lot to think over.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Blueblood said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must be getting back home and start on my next artistic pursuit, and perhaps go for a midnight ride on my yacht.”

“You sure ya don’t wanna stay for a bit? Ah could talk to Octavia and tell ‘er to go easy on ya.”

“Nice of you to offer, but not on your life,” Blueblood said, walking away from the farmpony.

“See ya later, Blueblood,” Mac said to his back.

The prince turned and stared at Mac for a few long seconds, thinking intently about something. “I hope not,” Blueblood finally said, “but if we must meet again I suppose I could suffer through it.” He gave Mac a nod, and turned home.

Big Macintosh shook his head with a chuckle. Maybe he was being a bit optimistic, but he couldn’t help but feel that the good prince might be coming around. His thoughts were interrupted when he saw Pinkie Pie and his sister, hitched to the wagon, walking toward him and the other ponies. He could only watch as they came up to him.

“Hey Macky,” Pinkie Pie said with a wave of her hoof. “How did you like our food?”

“Tasty as always,” Mac said.

“Listen, Mac, before you ask Ah don’t need any help with the wagon,” Applejack said.

“Ah know,” Mac said. “If ya wanted my help you would’ve asked for it.”

Applejack tilted her head. “That’s, uh, right.” She stared at him for a few seconds before shaking off her disbelief. “Me and Pinkie are headin’ back to Ponyville, so enjoy the rest of the picnic.”

Macintosh sighed and nodded, and Applejack gave him a small smile. “Guess yer going to say bye to Rarity,” Mac said.

“Eeyup,” Applejack said, patting his shoulder. “Wanna come with?”

He chuckled. “Last thing Ah need is to listen to a couple of mares drag out a goodbye,” he said. “Ah’m gonna walk around the lake and take in the sights. Ah’ll see ya at home.” Applejack nodded and stepped forward to give her big brother a hug. Macintosh returned it, and wrapped a foreleg around her.

“Take care, Mac,” Applejack said while breaking the hug. With a last goodbye to Pinkie Pie, Big Macintosh walked past the two mares and started his walk around the lake.

The park was beginning to empty of ponies, much to Mac’s relief. Whole hectares of land were completely bare except for the grass and trees and the white fluff falling blissfully to the ground. He stopped to watch a few of the seeds drift into the lake before he lost sight of them. He sat down by the edge of the water, so close that the small ebb and flow of the waves lapped at his hooves.

The sun began its descent below the horizon, setting the lake on fire with orange and yellow colors that seem to meld into a blazing amalgamation that Big Mac couldn’t name, but he was sure Rarity could. It all reminded him of Paradise Loch. He couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not.

His thoughts were lost in the conversations of the day. What was he to do now? He blew out a long held breath to get his mane out of his face. He needed a haircut.

“Such a beautiful shade of saffron, isn’t it?” Rarity’s voice drifted over the almost-still water, and Mac’s ear twitched. The mare sat beside him and rested her head against his shoulder. From the corner of his eye, Macintosh saw a plate rest gently on the ground at his other side.

“I brought you some apple pie,” Rarity said.

“Thanks,” he said. “How’d talkin’ with Fancy Pants go?”

“It went well,” Rarity said. “Though after he left, me and Octavia started exchanging quips until she decided to get back to her quartet to finish her set. Though I have no idea who she plans to play to. I suppose she was hired to play for a certain amount of time whether or not ponies are actually listening.”

“How do ya like her?” Mac asked.

“Well,” Rarity trailed off and tapped her chin. “She’s very…outspoken, and I admire that, but I can’t help but feel as if I must always have my guard up. I simply can’t relax around her.”

“Ah’m sure she doesn’t mean ta make ya uncomfortable,” Mac said. Rarity narrowed her eyes in disbelief toward the stallion. “That uncomfortable,” he corrected himself. “It’s just like Spitfire said. Ya can’t take it all personally.”

“I’m fairly certain we’re talking about two different mares,” Rarity said with a chuckle. “I take it you like talking with her.”

“Eeyup,” he said quietly.

“Macintosh, I’ve been wondering. If you could only spend time with me or Octavia, who would you pick?”

“Neither,” Macintosh said. “My life’s complicated enough without adding a marefriend to it.”

“I never said marefriend,” Rarity said quickly.

“But you meant it.”

Rarity sighed. “Perhaps I did. Still, having one doesn’t necessarily mean it will complicate your life.”

“Having friends complicated my life,” Macintosh said, and he sighed deeply. “Now friends are all Ah got. Ah ain’t got much of a job, Ah ain’t got a farm, Ah hardly have a family. What good am I, Rarity, if there’s nothin’ for me to do, nopony Ah could be of use to. Might as well drown myself in this damn lake.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Rarity said. “Macintosh, sweetie, you always seem to rate yourself by how much work you do for others. There’s nothing wrong with that in-and-of itself, but when you value yourself solely for what you’re doing and not who you are then...well, you put yourself in a bad place.”

“Yer startin’ to sound like Twilight,” Mac remarked. “That all sounds nice enough, but it’s damn hard to figure out who ya are when ya spent yer whole life in front of a plow.”

“Not at all,” Rarity said. She raised her head from his shoulder. Seconds felt like minutes as the mare stared at the lake. “Look down, Macintosh. What do you see?”

“My hooves?”

“No,” she said, pointing at the water. “Tell me what you see in your reflection.”

Mac rolled his eyes but acquiesced. All he saw was what he always saw: a pony with half-open eyes and a neutral frown. The only thing different was his lack of a harness and a suit that he didn’t want to make a habit of wearing. His mane was a bit too long, and he looked a bit skinnier than he remembered.

“Just me,” Macintosh finally said.

“Yes, I see that as well,” Rarity said. “I see a kind, sweet stallion completely devoted to his family, and who would do anything to support them, no matter what the burden or sacrifice. I see a stallion that isn’t afraid to stand up to a prince, and makes easy friends with the wealthy and the famous. I see a stallion of worth. I see you, Macintosh. Just you.”

Big Mac couldn’t help but smile, and he quickly wiped his face with a foreleg. “Thanks, Rarity. Ah’m glad yer around,” he said softly.

Rarity smiled and stood back up. “Thank you, Macintosh. I needed to hear that.”

“But,” Mac continued, “Ah still got so much dang free time. What am Ah supposed to do if Ah ain’t workin’?”

“Surely there was something you did before you worked on the farm. What did you enjoy doing when you were a colt?”

Macintosh shrugged. “Ah did a lot of things. Ah ran around, Ah read books, Ah drew-”

“You drew? As in drawing?” Rarity asked.

“Eeyup. Landscapes. Ah used to like lookin’ at trees and ponds and sunrises and sunsets and tryin’ to catch ‘em on paper. Ah was never really good at it,” Mac said.

“Macintosh there’s a wealth of things you can do,” Rarity said, smiling in excitement. “Why, I would be happy to teach you how to draw, perhaps even paint.”

“You’d do that for me?” Macintosh asked.

“Oh of course, sweetie,” Rarity said. “This is so wonderful! I can start on a lesson plan on the train ride home. Let’s go, Macintosh, we have much to discuss.”

“Actually, Rarity, Ah’d like to stay a bit more. Get my thoughts together,” Macintosh said. “Maybe I’ll catch a late train back so ya don’t have to wait for me.”

“Take as long as you need. I’ll see you back at Ponyville,” Rarity said with a soft smile. “Before I go, Macintosh. If you had to choose between me and Octavia-”

“Rarity,” Macintosh interrupted “you got something you need to tell me?”

The two stared at each other for a long while. Dozens of times Rarity seemed ready to speak, only for her to shy away. Nothing was said between them as the sun made it’s final descent. Finally, after struggling for so long, Rarity spoke.

“N-no,” she said, her eyes to the ground. “At least...not yet.”

“Ah ain’t gonna wait for ya to get yer head together, ya know,” Mac said.

“Well excuse me,” Rarity said with a huff, “but I could say the same to you.”

Mac chuckled. “Ah suppose yer right. Still friends?”

“Always, Macintosh,” Rarity said with a smile, “and if Octavia comes by, tell her she’s a lucky mare.”

“Pickin’ out the wedding invitations a bit early, ain’t ya?” Macintosh said with a laugh.

“Possibly,” Rarity said. “Goodbye Macintosh. I’ll see you soon.”

“Eeyup.”

She gave him a small kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad we could talk.” She left, and Macintosh quietly watched her head out of the park. He looked over at his side and saw the slice of apple pie. With nothing better to do, he decided to eat his first meal since breakfast. He ate it slowly, savoring every bite as he watched the sunset. That along with the memory of Rarity’s words did much to raise his spirits. By the time he finished he felt…happy. Really happy.

He watched the sun set and disappear beneath the horizon. The sky darkened and the stars came out to light up the sky. Looking around, he noticed pairs of ponies walking in the moonlit grass and standing close despite the warmth of the night. Even he could appreciate the romance of it, even if he had no interest in that sort of thing.

Macintosh leaned back in order to get the fullest view of the sky. He kept leaning and leaning until he rolled onto his back and stared up at the first few stars. He took a deep breath, and for a single moment everything seemed at peace. Beneath the vastness of the sky he, and all his problems, seemed small and insignificant. Right now, that was exactly what he needed.

“Staring at the stars?” Octavia said. She peered down at him with her trademark smirk. As always she had her cello case slung across her back.

“What gave ya that idea?” Mac said with a smile.

“I had an inkling,” she said. “Mind if I join you?”

“Plenty of ground,” Mac said.

Octavia nodded and placed her cello steadily on the ground. She got on her back and joined Macintosh in staring at the stars. “Do you have any more surprises, Macintosh?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well on top of knowing Fancy Pants, the most prominent pony in Canterlot, he also thinks you an art critic. Apparently you’re friends with the Elements of Harmony, and the captain of the Wonderbolts. Not to mention you somehow managed to catch my interest. Not bad for a stallion with a funny accent.”

“Ah know ponies that know ponies,” Macintosh said dryly. “For some reason they all seem to like me.”

“I could imagine why,” Octavia said. “When a pony becomes rich or famous or both, an honest friend is difficult to come by. Most ponies are just interested in their wealth and fame. I suppose they see you as honest.”

“Is that what you see?” Mac asked.

“Of course not,” Octavia said. “I just notice your very impressive physique.”

Macintosh chuckled. “Ah’ll pretend that’s a joke. How was playin’ with yer quartet?”

“Fine,” Octavia said. “There weren’t many ponies to play to but it was nice practice.”

“Practice for what?” Mac asked.

Octavia yawned and ignored his question. “It’s been a pleasure laying about, but I’m getting bored.” She stood up and slung her cello across her back.

Mac smiled as he got to his hooves. “Need any help with yer cello?”

“Macintosh, for the last time, no. The only way I would ever allow you to help me carry my cello is if you were carrying me while I carried my cello.” Macintosh’s ear twitched, and he suddenly broke out into a grin. Octavia quirked an eyebrow. “You wouldn-” She was on his back before she could finish. Having the weight on him felt good, and he wondered how fast he could run with her on top of him.

“Okay, very funny, you can put me down now,” Octavia said, wrapping her forelegs around his neck so tightly he could hardly breathe. Mac smiled and bucked around a bit. Just as he expected, her grip only tightened. “Macintosh!”

“Hold on tight,” he said with a smile, and took off in a run. Her mouth was right beside his ears, and so her yells pounded against his skull. He endured the discomfort and used it as motivation to go faster. Finally he got what he was hoping for, and her screams of fear soon turned into squealing laughter.

“Move out of the way, peasants, your empress is coming through!” Octavia yelled out to any couple that was unfortunate enough to get in their way, and Macintosh was more than willing to join in her laughter. As his muscles burned and his breathing quickened everything else seemed to fade away. Nothing else mattered.

It all ended much too soon for him, but he thought that going another lap around the lake might be a bit much. He stopped right next to the plate Rarity had brought him, and took a moment to catch his breath. Octavia, as well, was out of breath from all her yelling and waited a few seconds before finally climbing off of him.

“That was the most fun I ever had on top of a stallion,” Octavia said with a smirk, and Macintosh smiled back. “What would have happened if I didn’t enjoy it and I kept screaming for you to stop? It would have caused quite a scene.”

“Then it was mighty lucky that ya did enjoy it,” Macintosh said. “An’ Ah think all yer shoutin’ made a big scene anyway.”

“I suppose you’re right. It was still fun,” Octavia said.

“Eeyup,” Mac said, “it sure was, wasn’t it?”

The two smiled at each other, and suddenly Mac’s gut told him that maybe having so much free time wasn’t such a bad thing. “Ya know it ain’t fair that we had two dates in Canterlot and you haven’t even come to Ponyville once,” he said.

Octavia smiled. “If you want to invite me to a date in Ponyville then just say so.”

“I wanna take ya on a date in Ponyville.”

“See?” Octavia said. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Nnope,” Mac said with a smile. “Nice and simple.”

Definitely not a bad thing.

15. The Flu

The Flu

Mac stared at the envelope for a few long seconds. He couldn't help himself. Ever since Ditzy delivered it and ever since he read it Macintosh could only gawk at the contents. On the front of the envelope was his address and a return address he didn't recognize. What he did recognize was the signature etched across the envelope flap: Fancy Pants. In a grand epiphany Macintosh realized exactly why Rarity and Octavia wanted to be there when he opened the invitation.

But that wasn't the only invitation he received. Beside it was a similar envelope with Octavia's signature. Big Macintosh shook his head and quickly slid both letters into one of his dresser drawers. Right now he had bigger things to worry about. The sun had finally risen and he needed to check up on his sister. Mac quickly headed out of his room and into Applejack's.

One hundred and five degrees. Macintosh shook his head with a sigh as he placed the thermometer back on the nightstand. He replaced the bag of chilled water on Applejack's head with a fresh bag of ice. She shivered with chills and yet her coat was damp with sweat. Her cheeks were flushed bright red, and she could hardly talk because of her sore throat. She could barely move, and it was only after endless prodding that she admitted to feeling continuously nauseous. A clean, two gallon bucket sat beside her bed.

"Sorry, sugarcube, looks like this ain't going away anytime soon," Mac said. He stroked her mane to comfort her, and it seemed to make her relax a little. "Good thing Applebloom and Granny Smith are out visiting family. Last thing Ah'd want is for them to catch this."

"The farm," Applejack said, her voice barely more than a raspy whisper. "The family reunion."

"Don't worry about any of that. The reunion's on the weekend, plenty of time for you to get better. The farm'll be fine too," Mac said. "Ah'll get all the chores done, Ah promise."

Applejack shook her head with a grimace. "Don't," she said.

Big Mac shook his head. Sick or not Applejack was determined to keep him off the farm. Unlike in the past, however, Macintosh actually didn't really mind. "Fine, then Ah'll just take care of you. Ah'll make ya some soup. The Apple Family Specialty. The way Granny Smith makes it. That'll fix you right up." Macintosh gave her a smile, but Applejack only responded with another weak shake of her head.

"Get Fluttershy," she managed to say. Macintosh's smile quickly faded and all he could do was look at her.

"C'mon now, AJ," he said, forcing his smile back into place. "Ain't no reason to bother Fluttershy about this. Ah'm your brother, and family takes care of each other. So just get some sleep and I'll get started on some soup." Applejack shook her head and struggled to say more, but the more she struggled the lower her eyelids fell until they closed in sleep. Big Macintosh chuckled and headed to the kitchen. He wasn't going to bother with her request. What could she possibly do if he didn't? Sure she would probably have some choice words for him when she got better, but he would worry about that later.

Why did she even want Fluttershy anyway? He didn't have her affinity with animals, sure, but he could take care of a sick pony as well as anybody, especially if that sick pony was part of his family. He would prove just that with the soup he would make. The recipe had been in the family since the days before Ponyville even existed, and its restorative powers were legend amongst the Apple clan. He was absolutely sure once Applejack had a bowl she would be up and running within the hour. He'd like to see Fluttershy do that. No offense to her of course.

Once in the kitchen he quickly got to work taking out all the pots and pans he would need to complete the dozen or so steps required to make the soup. Knives and chopping boards and ladles, all of these were placed at the table ready to work. Now the only thing that remained were the actual ingredients. Opening the fridge he went to retrieve...nothing. That was all that was there. He quickly went to the cupboards to find more of the same. Damn, in all his determination to feed Applejack he had completely forgotten that they were all out of food. Looks like he would have to go get groceries.

-*-

"You really need this celery, huh?"

"Eeyup," Big Mac told the produce stallion, the last ribs of celery bundled together on the counter between them. "Just like you really need your jaw in one piece," he added. The salespony accepted three bits for the celery, the original price.

Satisfied, Big Mac tucked away the celery into his saddlebags along with the other vegetables and ingredients he had gathered at the market. By this time his bags were bursting at the seams, mostly filled with tomatoes. He only needed ginger now, so he traveled around the marketplace for Golden Harvest. She was definitely no slouch when it came to growing carrots, but only the ponies of Ponyville knew that she was also fond of growing a bit of ginger as well. He finally found the orange-maned mare standing behind a stand, only one ginger root on her counter. Big Mac walked as fast as he could without looking ridiculous. He got to the counter at the same time as a familiar mare with a pink mane and a yellow coat.

"Mornin' Miss Shy," Big Macintosh said. "Here for ginger?" He didn't know exactly what he would do if she said yes. He was pretty sure he could take her on if he had to, rumors of bear-wrestling aside. It wouldn't be the first time things got a bit heated at the market. Of course, he could simply split the root with her, but he'd need more than half of it for the recipe. He wanted to make a large enough batch to last a few days.

Fluttershy nodded. "Angel Bunny wants me to make him a carrot cake, and I'm missing ginger. I want to feed him before I go visit Pinkie Pie, Twilight Sparkle, and Rarity. I'm sorry, but I really need that ginger." Even in her soft voice Macintosh could hear the resolve within it. He was quite surprised that her voice had the capacity to demand anything, at least, he was almost sure that she was demanding it.

"Sorry, Miss Shy, but Ah'm gonna need more than half that ginger to make a soup for Applejack. She's—" Macintosh quickly bit his tongue. He wasn't sure whether to tell her the truth. It might cause her to offer to come by the farmstead in a sincere, though unwanted, act of kindness. After a split second, he decided to hide nothing from her. After all, it wasn't as if she knew Applejack would prefer it if Fluttershy took care of her. "—well she's sick, and Ah'm taking care of her," Mac finally finished.

"Oh I'm sorry," Fluttershy said. "Is it the flu? It's been spreading lately. I think it started with Pinkie."

"That so?" he asked. An idea was churning in his head, fueled by curiosity. He wondered again why his sister would prefer the pegasus' care over his own, but now he had an opportunity to find out through first hand experience. "Do you need any help, Miss Shy?" If he could learn something, learn that vital piece of information that separated him and Fluttershy as caregivers, then he could do an even better job of looking after his family.

Fluttershy seemed unsure at first. "Oh, I couldn't take you away from Applejack when she needs you most."

Macintosh chuckled half-heartedly. "Don't worry, Miss Shy, she doesn't need me. Applejack's asleep, and Ah wouldn't want to disturb her. Besides, Ah can make soup for everypony, and they'll be up and at 'em in no time. Just you wait." He gave her his best smile. Between it and his reasoning, Fluttershy's doubts seemed to ease quite a bit.

"Well, um, if you think it's okay. Do you want me to help you make the soup? I only need a tablespoon of ginger for the cake."

"Sure," Mac said. "Ah gotta get some things boilin' anyway." He paid Golden Harvest, who was waiting patiently all the while, and took the ginger. He broke off a piece and gave some to Fluttershy. "How 'bout you meet me at the farmstead after you're done with breakfast."

Fluttershy nodded, thanked him for the ginger, and the two went their separate ways, for now. Macintosh had a lot of work to do. Making the Apple family's legendary soup was a time consuming process. Thankfully, it was still early in the morning. If he hurried he could serve it as a late brunch. He snickered quietly at himself. Brunch? Maybe he was spending too much time around Rarity.

The trip home was a quick one, and as soon as Mac was in the kitchen he began to lay out all the ingredients on the table along with the cookware. The first thing he did was fill the Apple family's second largest stew pot with water and put it on the stove to boil. Then he dumped in every single tomato he had bought. He covered the pot and quickly headed up the stairs to check on his little sister. He gently pushed open her door and found her soundly sleeping. With a smile he closed the door and went back to the kitchen. He had to get chopping.

He had just rinsed and peeled the onions when Mac heard the front door open and close. The sound was so soft that he wasn't sure he heard anything at all at first. Fluttershy stood at the entryway of the kitchen until Mac invited her in.

"Howdy, Miss Shy," he said. "Just about to chop these vegetables. Wanna help?" he asked.

"Okay," she said as she unloaded her saddlebags onto an empty corner of the kitchen, "but, um, maybe I should check on Applejack while I'm here."

"Ah just checked on her," Mac said quickly. "She's still asleep, and Ah don't think bargin' into her room is gonna do her any good." The last part came out a little harsher than he intended, causing her to shrink back behind her mane. An awkward silence followed, one that Mac was eager to break.

"Now Miss Shy," he said with a much lighter tone, "before Ah continue cookin' this soup Ah need ya to promise that you won't speak a word to anypony about what ingredients Ah use and how Ah use 'em. This soup's a secret Apple family recipe, and Ah'm trustin' you to keep it a secret. Especially from Pinkie Pie," Mac said with a chuckle. "If she found out Ah let you in on a recipe she'll start pesterin' me for my apple pie recipe."

"Oh, I see," Fluttershy said with a nod. "Do you want me to Pinkie Promise?"

"That won't be necessary Miss Shy," Mac said, "Ah trust yer word well enough." The pot lid began to rattle and let off steam. "Why don't you take care of these onions while I check on that?" Fluttershy only nodded before taking his place at the table. "Make sure you mince them real fine."

The silence continued after that, but this time it felt much more relaxed. The kind of silence between friends that didn't need to be filled up with extraneous words. Mac smiled a little as he fished out the tomatoes with a wire strainer. He flung them into a large bowl of ice water before grabbing some salt and sprinkling a bit into the hot water and taking it off the heat.

Peeling the tomatoes proved an easy task, as well as pulverizing them with a large fork. He forced the mash through the wire strainer to remove the seeds, and added the pulp and juice back to the hot water.

Joining Fluttershy at the table, he brought a cutting board laden with cucumbers toward him. He was in the middle of peeling and seeding them when Fluttershy asked a question.

"Big Macintosh, are you making gazpacho?"

"Something like that," he said. "Ah'm gonna serve it cold, but Ah'd be surprised if anypony calls it that."

"Oh," Fluttershy said, "but wouldn't a hot soup be better?"

Mac smiled. "This soup is hot, Miss Shy." He was expecting the confused look on her face. "Trust me, this recipe's been passed down from my great-grandmother to Granny Smith to my mom to Applejack and me. It'll work, ain't no doubt about that." After mincing the cucumbers he mashed them the same as the tomatoes and added the juice and pulp to the pot.

"Go ahead and add those onions to the pot, maybe mash 'em up a little with that fork. We wanna get as much liquid out of the vegetables as possible," Mac said. Fluttershy did so and added the onions to the cooling liquid. Along to go into the pot were red bell peppers, garlic, one small beet, the ginger, and a couple of large apples. All of them cut, crushed, and mashed as best as they could be. Mac then added vinegar, olive oil, the juice of several limes, and the rind of three lemons. When the concoction was nice and cool, Mac knew it was time to add the penultimate ingredient. He went to a carton of eggs on the table, grabbed two small bowls, and started cracking and separating.

"Eggs?" Futtershy asked, watching him.

"Egg whites," Mac said, A dozen eggs later he started to whisk the egg whites vigorously until they just started to foam up a bit. He then stirred it into the now cold liquid, and placed the pot back onto the heat of the stove. Now came the hardest part: stirring. From now until the soup came to an energetic simmer, and even after that if he had to, until the egg had rose to the surface to create a net where most of the sediment and debris would be caught. Then he repositioned the pot so only one side was being heated.

Fluttershy watched the whole process intently, forgetting herself so much that she took to the air to get a better look at the cooking pot's contents. Mac scraped the sides of the pot to dislodge any coagulated egg, and removed the ladle in preparation for the next step of the process.

"That's not how you make gazpacho," Fluttershy mumbled to herself. It was said more thoughtfully than critically, so, even though Mac knew she didn't mean for him to hear, he decided to answer her.

"Told ya it wasn't really that kind of soup," he said with a smile. "More like a consommé Ah guess, but Ah ain't one for names. It is what it is, that's all it is. Now it's been simmering for about an hour and a half, so Ah'm gonna get the washtub."

"Washtub?" Fluttershy repeated, never touching the ground.

"Eeyup, Apple family tradition states that anypony that helped cook has to take a bath in the kitchen." Fluttershy's eyes suddenly widened, and she dropped to the ground, her wings frozen in shock. Macintosh had to bite his tongue in order to not break into laughter. "Ah'm kiddin' Miss Shy, we don't use it to wash," he said, and the pegasus relaxed.

In the corner of the kitchen was indeed a large washtub, grey and shining. He brought it in front of the stove and set the Apple family's third largest cooking pot in its center. Over the pot he placed a fine mesh strainer large enough to completely cover the pot. Cheesecloth came next. Two layers. Then he filled the washtub to the brim with ice, salt, and water.

Fluttershy kept watching. "What are you going to do now?" she asked.

"Strain it of course," Mac said. He went to the soup pot, took the ladle, carefully pushed aside the skin of egg on the surface, and started ladling the liquid into the cloth-lined strainer. The small thunk of drops of soup were the only assurance that the process was doing its work.

It was slow going, but Mac was patient. Even when he had to replace the cheesecloth, clogged with pulp, with fresh sheets. Finally the last of the soup was drained, and Mac pulled away the strainer to get a good look at the soup. The liquid was a dark ruby red, yet so clear that it allowed Mac and Fluttershy to see the small scratches and dents on the pot's bottom.

"It's beautiful," Fluttershy said. Macintosh felt quite proud of himself. Not every pony could make a soup that others would call beautiful.

"One last thing," Mac said. He went to a cabinet and took out a large glass bottle, quarter filled with a crystal clear liquid. "This is what makes the soup so special. This was made by my great-grandmother herself." He uncorked the bottle. "Wanna give it a whiff?" he asked. A curious Fluttershy stepped closer to the bottle. "Careful, it's strong stuff." Fluttershy nodded but kept her focus on the bottle. She brought her nose to its opening, and immediately cringed and snapped back and back and back until her backside bumped into the kitchen wall. She rubbed her nose with her front hooves, as if trying to forcibly push the smell away.

Big Macintosh tried to stifle his laughter, but it was no easy task. He would feel almost guilty if she didn't look so cute. Still, he supposed he should take it easy on her. Sensitive as she was.

It took a minute for Fluttershy to recover. "Wh-what is that?" she asked, her eyes watering.

"Ah don't rightfully know," Mac said. "My great-grandma took the recipe with her to the grave. From what Ah can tell it's a bunch of oils or extracts mixed together." He brought the elixir to his nose and inhaled deeply. "Apple cider vinegar, mint, peppercorns, cumin, hot peppers--bonnets Ah think--clove, anise, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Plus some other smells Ah don't rightly recognize."

"You can smell all that?" Fluttershy asked. "I only smell...spice."

"Takes getting' used to," Mac said, "but Ah swear it gets stronger every time Ah use it. Ah've tried recreating it, but not much luck there. Got more talent in liquor than in extracts." He gave her a shrug and tipped the bottle over the pot. "Three drops." He added the extract and replaced the cork. "That should do it."

"Do you like to cook?" Fluttershy asked.

Macintosh smiled. "My earliest memory is watching my mom make this for baby Applejack. Cooking's as much a part of bein' an Apple as applebucking. 'Course, just like applebuckin', that doesn't mean every Apple's good at it." He looked at the soup and gave it a quick stir with a clean ladle. "Wanna try it?" he asked, holding up a ladle full of soup. Fluttershy stared at it, then at him, until giving a nod and stepping closer. Mac had to admit, the mare had guts. He wasn't sure she'd be willing to try the soup after having such a reaction to the extract mixture.

Fluttershy took a sip and for a second she smiled at the flavor. It didn't last long before a sudden coughing fit racked her small frame. Mac quickly gave her a clean dishtowel to cough into.

"Don't worry," he said, "it's doin' exactly what it's supposed to do." After the coughing stopped, a sneezing fit took its place. She sneezed into the dishcloth, and Macintosh noted how soft her sneezes were. Finally the sneezing stopped and Fluttershy was able to breathe easy again. Once she did her eyes widened a bit, and she brought a hoof to her throat. She breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly.

"It...my throat feels so clear," she said.

Macintosh smiled. "Eeyup. If ya had a stuffed up nose or head it'd clear that too." He grabbed a bowl and filled it almost to the brim with the red soup. "Ah'm gonna take this to Applejack. Can you do me a favor? Ah set out some containers with snap lids. If you could start fillin' them with soup, we can start deliverin' them."

"Oh, okay," Fluttershy said. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

"It's fine, Miss Shy," he said. "Ah'll be back in less than a minute." He went up the stairs, not bothering to listen to Fluttershy's reply if she had one, and softly knocked on Applejack's door. When no answer came he opened it and invited himself in. She was still asleep, the ice compress melted on her head. Smiling, Mac gently placed the bowl on her nightstand, ready to be eaten when she woke up. He removed the bag of melted ice and gave her a quick kiss on her forehead before heading out and rejoining Fluttershy. He helped her finish filling the rest of the containers and tucked them into his saddlebags. Upon Fluttershy's request he also fitted a few bowls into her saddlebags, as much as he didn't want to.

"Who should we see first?" Macintosh asked as he placed the last bowl inside her pack.

"Pinkie Pie," she said. "She's been sick the longest, and it doesn't look like she's getting a lot better."

Macintosh nodded and led the way out of the farm and toward Ponyville. The way there was spent in easy silence, neither one of them finding much reason to speak. Just as Mac predicted, it was a little before noon when they headed out. Despite his heavy load, Mac kept to a brisk pace. The colder the soup was served the better. Thankfully, the walk to Sugarcube Corner was short, and in no time at all Fluttershy knocked on the front door of the confectionery, even though the sign on the door said it was open. The knock seemed more to announce their presence, as the two didn't wait for anyone to answer or let them in.

Mr. Cake stood behind the shop's counter and greeted Fluttershy and Macintosh kindly. "Hey there you two," he said. "I guess you're here to see Pinkie Pie?"

"Eeyup," Mac said. "Got some soup that'll fix her up right as rain."

"Where's Mrs. Cake and the twins?" Fluttershy asked.

"At my mother's," Mr. Cake said. "The last thing we need is for the twins to catch this. Pinkie's in her room resting. I'm sure she'll be happy to see both of you."

Macintosh nodded and took the opportunity to set down his bags. Fluttershy soon did the same. He took out one of the small, lidded bowls and handed it to the pegasus. "You mind putting these packs in your fridge?" Macintosh asked Mr. Cake. "Ah wanna keep them as cold as possible."

"Uh, sure," he said, "but what kind of soup do you drink cold?"

"Sorry, Carrot, that's an Apple family secret," Mac answered with a chuckle. "C'mon Fluttershy."

The pair, led by Fluttershy, went up the stairs to the second floor. Macintosh had never been up here before, so he relied on the pegasus to show the way. Fluttershy went up to one door in particular and knocked softly.

"Come in," Pinkie's weak voice answered. They entered, and Mac took a quick scan around the room. Well, how surprised could he be about all the pink, or the party supplies strewn about? Pinkie was wrapped inside her blanket, only her head and forehooves visible. Her face broke into a smile when she realized who had come to visit her, but that smile was nowhere near as wide as Mac was used to. It was slightly unnerving to see such a weak grin from her, like a flag at half-staff.

"Hey Fluttershy," Pinkie said. Macintosh didn't think she noticed him. Heck, with how sick she was he was surprised she could recognize Fluttershy. Pinkie tried to get up, but was too weak to do much of anything. Macintosh kept quiet at the edge of the room. This was his chance to finally see what Fluttershy did when caring for a sick pony, and he wasn't going to let it pass by. He stayed by the door as Fluttershy approached with the bowl of soup.

"How are you feeling today?" Fluttershy asked.

"Pretty good," Pinkie replied. "Better than yesterday. Is that soup?"

"It is," Fluttershy said. "Big Macintosh made it."

Pinkie Pie looked around the room until she caught sight of the stallion. "Oh hey, Mackey," she said. "I thought you were Applejack."

Big Mac quirked an eyebrow. "Why'd you think that?"

"You smell different," Pinkie said. "You smell only kind of like apples, and Applejack really smells like apples. It's weird. Did you two decide to switch smells or something?"

"Yes, Pinkie," Mac said with a smile, "we were bored with our smells so we decided to trade."

"Wow, can you switch smells with me? I always wanted to smell like apples," Pinkie said.

Well, it looked as if being sick for a few days couldn't stop Pinkie Pie's unique brand of humor, or maybe it was because of the flu that she seemed a little...strange (more so than usual, at least).

"Here, drink this," Fluttershy said as she gave her friend the bowl of soup.

Pinkie nodded, but she didn't drink it right away. "It looks like gelatin before you put it in the fridge," she said with a smile, softly shaking the bowl to see the red liquid slosh around. Fluttershy waited patiently for Pinkie to stop playing with her food and finally drink it down in one gulp.

Pinkie Pie licked her lips. "Mmm, that was delicious. What's in--" A coughing fit overtook her just as it did Fluttershy, and Macintosh quickly handed Pinkie a handkerchief for her to cough in. The coughing lasted a few seconds before the sneezing began. Once the dust had settled Pinkie wiped her nose and took a deep breath. Then another and another.

"Hey! I can breathe through my nose again! And my throat doesn't hurt so much. This is awesome! I feel like I could..." she trailed off as she threw her blanket off and hopped to her hooves. She tried a couple of bounces before her legs wobbled too much for her to continue. The rush wore off and she fell to the floor, as weak as ever in her ill state.

"Sorry, Pinkie," Mac said. He helped her up back on her bed. "It ain't a cure, much as Ah brag about it, it just clears up your head, nose, and throat. Just makes being sick a bit more manageable."

"Oh well," Pinkie said, "at least I feel better. So did anything new happen in Ponyville? Did I miss anything?"

"Not really," Fluttershy said, "but Applejack, Rarity, and Twilight are sick too now."

The two continued their conversation for a while longer, switching to topics that he really had no interest in. A few times the talk went to recipes and baking, and Macintosh kept an open ear then. Most of the time, though, Mac spent looking intently at Fluttershy in an attempt to mentally catalog everything she did. From fetching a bag of ice to place on Pinkie's forehead, to adjusting the blanket to make sure she was comfortable. Fluttershy soon noticed him and shrank back from the weight of his gaze. "Uh, Macintosh? Is there something wrong?"

Big Mac blinked a few times. His expression might have been a bit too serious now that he thought about it. "Sorry Miss Shy, Ah was just...thinkin'." Fluttershy accepted his explanation and went back to attend to Pinkie. Meanwhile, Mac tried not to stare at her anymore and looked around at the interesting knick-knacks and doo-dads around the room. A slip of paper sticking out one of her drawers caught his eye, his name written across the top of the piece of loose leaf. He looked over at the two mares, now into their conversation, and casually sneaked closer to the drawer. Pinkie Pie noticed immediately.

"Mackey! Don't look at that," she said, a bit louder than he was expecting.

"Look at what?" Mac asked innocently. "Oh you mean this paper? Why not? Got my name on it. How do Ah know it ain't some mail you accidentally got?"

"It's not!" Pinkie said. Macintosh ignored her and got the slip of paper between his teeth and took it from the drawer. Instantly Pinkie Pie jumped from her bed in a burst of reserved energy and tried to get at the paper. With a smile Macintosh held it just above her reach, but the pink pony persisted.

"Oh, Pinkie Pie," Fluttershy called out in an attempt to break up the two. "Stop, you need to rest." It was no use, and in a last ditch effort Pinkie climbed up on his back and tried to reach the paper that way. Mac simply reared up, forcing her to grip his neck to keep from falling on the floor. Meanwhile, Fluttershy had taken a more physical approach to get Pinkie into bed rest. She grabbed Pinkie's cotton candy tail with her teeth and gave it one forceful tug. While it wasn't enough to pull Pinkie off of the farm stallion, it was enough to get him off balance.

They fell in a heap--Pinkie on top of Mac and Mac on top of Fluttershy--all dazed from the impact. The paper flittered to the ground seconds after. Pinkie leapt to grab it first.

"Ha! I got it, I got it," she shouted, but her victory didn't last long before the adrenaline wore off. With wobbling legs she braced herself against her dresser. She moaned in pain and the note fell back to the ground. She stumbled, and Mac quickly ducked his head beneath her stomach to stabilize her.

"Back into bed," Fluttershy said gently as she half led and half carried Pinkie to bed. The pegasus then sighed and placed a hoof on Pinkie's forehead. "Don't strain yourself." Macintosh, meanwhile, took a look at the note and found a shopping list. He began to read aloud.

"Five hundred balloons, one hundred bags of streamers, two Ferris wheels, one elephant, one elephant rider, three cannons, a barrel of butter..." The list went on and on, each entry more outlandish than the last.

"Mackey," Pinkie groaned. "It's supposed to be a surprise."

"A surprise?" Mac repeated. "Pinkie, is this list for that 'thank you' party yer throwing for me?" He stepped up to her bed and gave her the slip of paper. Pinkie Pie looked it over and nodded, which only made Mac chuckle. "Ah told ya Ah didn't want a big party."

"Are you sure?" Pinkie asked. "I was going to invite everypony in Ponyville and some ponies from Canterlot too. It was going to be, like, a huge party with tons of cake and games and--"

"Ah'm sure," Mac said. "One cake, seven ponies, including me. Ah'd be much happier with that. Maybe we could have it at Twilight's library or at Sweet Apple Acres."

"Well...if you're sure," she crumpled up the note and threw it in a nearby wastebasket. She sighed and sank into her pillow, looking none too happy about his decision.

Mac gave her an assuring smile. "Sugarcube, it doesn't matter whether the party is big or small. So long as you're throwing it it'll be fun."

Pinkie smiled softly. "I guess so." Her eyelids started to lower and she whispered a tired sigh. "I'm just sick and tired of being sick and tired. I missed so many birthdays and anniversaries and first words and...and...other stuff." She yawned and stared up at the ceiling. "I haven't seen ponies smiling in forever." Pinkie yawned again, and Fluttershy patted her mane and took the now empty bowl from her bed. She raised the blanket up to the pink mare's neck and tucked her in tightly.

"Get some rest, Pinkie," Fluttershy whispered.

Macintosh couldn't stand to see Pinkie like this. He had to do something, anything, to make her feel better. But what could he do? It wasn't as if he knew how to make her happy. He looked around the room for anything to help and stopped when he spotted a pencil and some paper on her dresser. He quickly went to it, scribbled a bit, and headed for the door with the pencil and paper. "I'll be right back," he managed to say just before running down the hall, down the stairs, and out of Sugarcube Corner.

He couldn't remember the last time he ran so fast, or talked to so many ponies. Anyone he could find out on the street he asked to sign the paper. Some ponies he knew or recognized, some recognized him, and other had no idea who he was nor did Mac know anything of them. But they all knew Pinkie, and they all signed the piece of paper Mac brought them with only the scantest bit of explanation. Big Macintosh collected as many signatures as he could from everyone he could find, and only when it seemed he collected the signatures of every pony in a half mile radius did he head back to Sugarcube Corner, as quick as ever.

"Pinkie, Ah—" Fluttershy shushed him as soon as he entered Pinkie's room. Amidst catching his breath Mac noticed that Pinkie Pie had fallen asleep in his absence, and his heart immediately sank. "Oh," he whispered. He went up beside Fluttershy and dropped the paper and pencil in front of her. "You wanna sign?" he asked her. "Ah wanted to give her this when she was awake, but..." he trailed off as Fluttershy looked at the paper.

"Oh, Macintosh, this is so sweet," she said with a smile. She signed the paper, folded it just a bit, and stood it on Pinkie's nightstand. "She'll be very happy to see this." In the middle of the page ran the words "You Make Me Smile" surrounded by dozens of signatures, some with a small message to get well soon.

"We should go," Fluttershy whispered, and Macintosh followed her out of Pinkie's room and down the stairs.

Mr. Cake was still working behind the counter when Fluttershy and Mac came back down to the shop floor. He left the counter as soon as they descended and came up to them. "She's getting a lot better," Fluttershy said. "We had to stop her from getting too excited," she added with a small smile.

"That's good to hear," Mr. Cake said. "I knew having you around would cheer her up. Uh, you want your pack back, Mac?"

"Eeyup," Macintosh said, unable to come up with a pithy rhyme to answer with. Mr. Cake went to the back and appeared again with Mac's saddlebags still full with bowls of soup. Mr. Cake lifted them up and placed them on the counter. "The soup really did the trick," Mac said as he took a few bowls out of his bags. "Ah'll leave this here for her in case she wants more." Mr. Cake nodded his thanks, and after a quick goodbye Fluttershy and Macintosh were on their way again.

"I'm sure she'll love the card," Fluttershy said as they stepped out. The air was getting hotter as the sun climbed the sky, and Macintosh worried about his soup.

"Ah hope so," Mac said with a sigh. "Pinkie's a real special mare. Knowing that a pony can care that much about making other ponies happy kinda makes me feel...relieved, and if Ah can make her feel even half of the happiness she makes, well, that'd be something."

"I'm sure Pinkie appreciates the thought," Fluttershy said, "but I think just visiting her would make her day. Pinkie told me once that sometimes the best thing a friend can do is be around to make everything better. The good and the bad."

Macintosh smiled. "Ah guess that makes sense. So who's next?" he asked.

"The Carousel Boutique isn't too far," Fluttershy said, her face a smile. "How about we visit Rarity?"

"Sounds good," Mac said. "Sorry for gettin' Pinky all riled up," he added. "Probably wasn't the best thing for her."

"It's okay," Fluttershy said. "I'm glad that she was so energetic today. The flu has had her really depressed since she can't be around other ponies without getting them sick, but, um, I guess you saw that. I try to visit her everyday, but I've been really busy." She sighed and looked down at the ground. "I'm sorry," she said, almost to herself.

Mac smiled just a bit. "You keep apologizing to the air you ain't gonna have time to take care of your friends."

Fluttershy gave him the faintest smile, and the pair continued in silence to the Boutique. They arrived in no time, and, just like at Sugarcube Corner, Fluttershy knocked on the door. They were greeted immediately by Rarity's voice.

"I'm closed today," she shouted loud enough for Mac and Fluttershy to hear.

"Rarity, it's Fluttershy," Fluttershy said. "I'm here to help you get better."

"No! Go away. I'm hideous!"

Mac and Fluttershy exchanged worried glances. "She gets...cranky when she's sick," Fluttershy explained. Macintosh didn't need much to believe it. To give Fluttershy a helping hoof, he stepped forward and spoke through the door.

"Rarity, it's Mac," he began. "Ah got some soup here that'll fix ya right up."

"Go away!" Rarity yelled. "Don't you have another mare to take care of?"

Macintosh quirked an eyebrow, utterly confused. "What's Applejack got to do with any of this?" he asked.

"Don't you dare play dumb. You know exactly who I'm talking about."

Macintosh sighed and shook her head. Well, he wasn't exactly pleased that he would have to air all this out in the open. He looked over at Fluttershy who looked about as confused as he was, but at least he had an idea of what Rarity meant. Poor Fluttershy probably knew nothing about this. Unless Rarity told her. "Fluttershy," he said, "would you mind if ya left me alone with the door? Maybe it'd be best for you to head on over to Twilight's while I take care of things here."

Fluttershy's cheeks suddenly grew red. "Oh, um, okay if you two want privacy then..." She trailed off as words failed her, deciding instead to simply nod before heading toward the library before Macintosh had time to explain. He stared at her until she was out of sight and then rolled his eyes as he turned back to the door.

"Rarity," he began, and he took a deep breath, "Ah ain't here to take care of Octavia, and Ah ain't here to take care of Applejack. Ah'm here to take care of you. Now open up this door so Ah can do that." He pressed his ear to the door but heard nothing. After a few long seconds he shook his head. "Fine, Ah'm leaving. But ya know, Ah just got an invitation from Fancy Pants and Ah was thinkin' of takin' part in the auction. Who knows, maybe see if any mares might be interested in bidding on—" He stopped when he heard the quick step of hooves, the clatter of drawers opening and closing, and finally the sound of the door unlocking.

"Come in," Rarity called out, her voice now as sweet as honey. Macintosh shook his head, wondering what she had in store for him, and entered the Boutique. Standing at the entryway was Rarity, made up with so much eyeliner, eye shadow, lipstick, and white powder that he almost didn't recognize her. "Why, Macintosh, what a surprise," she said with a smile.

Macintosh rubbed the side of his head with a hoof. "Get to bed, Rarity," he said.

"I didn't expect you to be so forward," Rarity said with a smirk. Suddenly her cheeks puffed out, and she quickly covered her mouth with a hoof. She ran through the Boutique and up the stairs to where Mac assumed the bathroom lay waiting. Clear, unpleasant sounds of sickness echoed through the Boutique and Macintosh ran a hoof through his mane and started to take a look around. In a closet he found what he was looking for: a bucket that Rarity used to mop. He took a quick mental note just in case. From there, he went into her kitchen and placed a few bowls of soup in her fridge before going back to the workroom. After a few minutes he saw Rarity come back downstairs. Her mascara was running down her cheeks, and her lipstick was smeared. Smudges of red stained her hoof, and her face was deep set into a grimace.

She walked right past him without so much as a glance and headed into her bedroom. Not sure of what else to do, Macintosh followed her. She draped a pink and fluffy robe around her, and plopped herself onto her bed, on her back. She covered her eyes with her lipstick-stained foreleg and said nothing. Macintosh set down his saddlebags and looked around the room, ignoring the plushness of everything. He noticed a box of tissues on her vanity and went to get them. He placed it on top of her nightstand, took one, and started cleaning the red off her hoof and leg.

"Please Macintosh," she said, "I want to be left alone." Despite her words she didn't push him away or try to pull her foreleg from him. Macintosh threw away the tissue and grabbed another. He gently moved her leg away from her face and started cleaning her cheek.

"I like you better without all that junk on your face anyway," Macintosh said.

Rarity gave him just a tiny smile. "You've never seen me without 'junk' on my face."

"Ah'm takin' an educated guess," Mac said. It took several tissues to wipe off all the makeup Rarity had on, and even then he had to go fetch some cold cream from Rarity's vanity to help remove all the makeup. Soon Rarity's wastebasket was filled with tissues. Once finished, Macintosh took a step back and tilted his head. "Maybe a little junk would be better," he said with a smile.

"Very funny," Rarity said dryly. "Since you're here why don't you make yourself useful and make me some soup."

Macintosh smiled. "You know you sound a lot like Octavia when yer sick, except without tryin' to hide an accent." He went over to where he dropped his saddlebags and picked out a small bowl for her.

"Speaking of Octavia," Rarity said. "What happened? You're taking part of the bachelor auction even though you two are dating?" She took the bowl between her hooves as Macintosh brought it to her. "Um, Macintosh sweetie, I'm afraid this soup is cold."

"You drink it cold. It'll fix you right up. It's got ginger in it to help with nausea," Mac said as he sat beside her bed. He took her downy comforter between his teeth and managed to slip it out from beneath her before covering her with it. "As for the bachelor auction, well, we haven't made anythin' official, so it ain't like Ah gotta get her permission or anythin'. Besides, it's for charity, so Ah can't feel too bad about it."

"What happened to taking things slowly?" Rarity asked, with just a hint of a smirk.

Mac shrugged. "Ah'm fine with taking things slow. Heck, Ah'm even fine with not bein' in anythin' too official until she's comfortable with it. But until then we're just friends. Simple as that." Macintosh said with a shrug.

"I see," Rarity said staring intently at the red soup.

"You think Ah ain't doin' the right thing?"

"If only romance were that easy," Rarity said, tilting the bowl to her lips and drinking as much as she could. "My this is absolutely delic--" She was quickly interrupted by a series of coughs and sneezes. Macintosh, already prepared, gave her a couple of tissues to cover her mouth with. Once the fits had passed, Rarity placed the bowl on her nightstand and took several deep breaths. "I feel so much better. What's it made out of? It's wonderfully spicy."

Big Mac nodded. "Ah left ya a few more bowls in the fridge. Set you up for a couple of days. Drink some after you wake up and before you sleep, and you should be right as rain in no time." He looked up at a nearby clock and remembered that Fluttershy was still waiting for him at the library. "It was nice seein' ya, Rarity, but Fluttershy's probably waiting for me at--"

"Is that it?" Rarity asked. "Aren't you going to comfort and nurture me in my time of need?"

Mac smiled. "Fine, Ah suppose Ah could stay for a bit if you insist. Now do ya need anythin' in particular?" he asked.

"A hug would be nice," Rarity said.

"Rarity, we both know that's a bad idea," Mac said, taking a quick step back.

"Oh please, Macintosh," Rarity said with a huff, "you read into these things too much. I simply want a comforting hug from a friend. What I'm asking for is no different than what I would ask from Fluttershy."

Mac sighed. Rarity telling him he read too much into things? Well, he supposed there was a first time for everything. Still, he could believe that Fluttershy would give a comforting hug to an ill-stricken best friend. If Fluttershy would do it, then there shouldn't be any reason for him not to. So, with a bit of hesitation, he lowered his head so Rarity could wrap her forelegs around his neck. She brought him close so that his head rested on her chest, his nose just touching her right cheek.

"I'm sure Octavia has her reasons for keeping her emotional distance," Rarity said.

Macintosh smiled. "Ah know."

Rarity hummed and Mac could feel the vibrations beneath his head. "Even if things don't work out between you and Octavia there are plenty of other beautiful, sophisticated, intelligent, caring mares that are interested in you."

"You mean mares like you?" Macintosh said with a smirk.

"Well...yes," Rarity said, her cheeks glowing red.

Macintosh chuckled. "Ah always figured a pretty mare like you had plenty of interested stallions. Not sure why you're focusing so much on me."

Rarity sighed and ran a hoof through his mane. "Well, when you combine sophistication, intelligence, beauty, wit, and a well known name amongst princesses and social elites all into one mare, stallions are surely going to be interested, but also very intimidated. Also add how many times I've helped save Equestria and, well, it's difficult to find a stallion that isn't a pile of nerves around you, or is simply interested in you solely for fame or beauty."

"That's only 'cause they don't know ya," Mac said, "and how annoying you can be."

"Oh hush," Rarity said with a small laugh. "Inane jokes aside I...like being around you. I feel as comfortable with you as I do around Fluttershy and Twilight and all the rest of the girls. And I want to find out where this relationship can go, because I think..." She trailed off and her grip around his neck tightened.

Macintosh took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "You could've told me Fancy Pants' charity auction was a bachelor auction."

Rarity laughed again. "I wish I could have been there when you opened his invitation. Did he ask you to take part of the auction outright, or did you decide to take part of your own will?"

"Outright." Macintosh smiled and lifted his head up so that he could look her in the eyes, his nose lightly touching hers. "You plan on bidding?"

Rarity smiled and lowered her eyelids. "Well, it is for charity. " She brought her front hooves higher up so that they were curled around the back of his head, beneath his long mane. “And I wouldn’t mind going on a date with you.”

“If ya want a date then why don’t ya ask me now?” Mac said.

A long silence followed until Rarity broke it with a gentle whisper. "Macintosh?"

"Eeyup?" Mac asked, just as softly.

"I need to throw up."

"Ah'll get the bucket."

-*-

The inside of the library stood pristine and tidy, though Mac wondered if that was because of intent or lack of use. Spike sat on a high stool behind the library desk, no doubt filling in for Twilight. It only took a quick conversation and Mac was heading upstairs to Twilight's room where Fluttershy was already taking care of her newest patient. When he entered the room, Mac found them in the middle of conversation, Twilight sitting up on her bed and several books opened around her. Fluttershy was sitting beside the bed, another book opened in front of her. It looked like Twilight already had some soup, at least she didn't look too sick. Probably because she had already drank the soup.

"Hey Big Macintosh," Twilight said. "Fluttershy and I were talking about poetry if you want to join in." Fluttershy nodded in affirmation, and Macintosh could only take a seat beside Fluttershy. It looked like he was too late to observe Fluttershy taking care of Twilight, but he wasn't against a little company. Maybe there were still things he could learn.

"Never thought of ya to be the poetry type, Miss Sparkle," Mac said. "Thought you were more into magic an' science an' logic an' such."

Twilight shrugged. "I like reading. Here, Macintosh, read this poem and tell me what you think." She held out a book to him and Mac gave it a wary look. The last time Twilight wanted him to read something his brain couldn't handle the strain, but, with a small sigh, he took the book and started reading.

"I saw the best minds of..." Macintosh started to read aloud but soon trailed off into the madness that followed. It was a long poem split into three parts. It took him a while to read, if only because he had to reread passages a few times. When he was finally done, he set the book on her bed and pushed it toward her. "He's got so much meaning packed into so many lines. It all looks like nonsense to me," he said with a shrug.

"Nonsense?" Twilight said. "Macintosh, he's illuminating all the corruptions and inconsistencies of his time. He's trying to..."

Macintosh didn't bother with trying to follow Twilight's words. Instead he looked around at the other books, particularly one in front of Fluttershy. He picked it up and flipped through the pages with no real intent in mind.

"Are you even listening?" Twilight asked.

He noticed Fluttershy sitting quietly and decided that she should be part of the conversation as well. He wasn't going to be the only one talking. "Looks like you've been takin' good care of Twilight, Miss Shy," he said. "What's your secret?"

Fluttershy shook her head. "It's...not really a secret. I mean, if it wasn't for your soup then she would still be too sick to talk." She looked down at the wooden flooring, thinking until she looked back up at Macintosh. "Do you think you could, um, show me how to make it. I mean, um, I know I saw you make it but it looked very complicated."

"Sorry Miss Shy," Mac said, "you gotta be an Apple to know it. Ah feel kinda guilty for even lettin' you see how it's made." Then, seeing her downcast face, he quickly added, "but, uh, if there's ever a time you need some Ah'll be more than happy to whip some up for ya. Day or night, rain or shine. Least I could do for all you've done for my family." This caused Fluttershy to smile, which in turn made Mac smile as well. "Though you never did answer my question."

"There's nothing really special that I do," Fluttershy said. "I just...keep my friends company and give them anything they need. I'm actually really glad that you came with me, Macintosh."

"Aw well, Ah'm sure you could've handled it all on your lonesome," Mac said. He couldn't help but smile at her. Maybe there wasn't much difference between how they took care of the ponies close to them after all.

Twilight sighed and closed her book, giving up on continuing her debate any further. "Speaking of soup, Macintosh," Twilight said as she closed the books in front of her, "It's so effective. Thank you for making it."

"No problem, Twilight," Mac said.

"So how are things? You know...in general?" Twilight asked.

Macintosh only shrugged. "Fine Ah suppose. Applejack's still doin' most of the farmwork, but she's doin' a really good job of it. Ah was worried that it'd be too much for her to take on alone. Ah'm proud of her."

"That's good to hear," Twilight said. "See, Macintosh? You just have to let go and adapt as things change. You know? Change along with everything."

Macintosh forced a smile. "You were right." Truth be told he didn't want to argue the point, especially since he really did think she was right. Though some things never changed, and he drew a little comfort from that. He wasn't sure if Twilight was interested to hear about it. Even so, he wanted to ask her something. "Say, Twilight," he said, "did you have a library when you stayed at Canterlot?"

Twilight smiled and nodded. "Of course. It was the best. Don't get me wrong, I love this one, especially since it's in Ponyville, but the one in Canterlot had everything a pony could ever want to know."

"Sounds nice," Mac said.

"I-I think," Fluttershy said, "I think what Macintosh is trying to say is that--"

"That Ah'd like to visit it one day," Mac said. "Find out what's so great about it."

"I'll take you there if you want," Twilight said, "after I get better, of course. I'm sure you would love it. There's bound to be a book you'll love in there. In fact..." Macintosh smiled as Twilight took control of most of the conversation for a bit, allowing him to sit back and listen. Once she finished talking, Macintosh only asked more questions to get her to keep talking. It felt like a good strategy, and Twilight spoke for well over an hour.

"Macintosh, you've been to Canterlot a few times, right?" Twilight asked.

"Eeyup," Mac said.

"How do you like it?" Twilight said.

Macintosh shrugged. "Ah've only been to a few places. Canterlot Park, the art museum, the palace gardens for that dessert contest. That's about it, but from that Ah gotta say I kinda like it. It's missin' an apple farm though."

Twilight smiled. "Are you thinking of starting a farm over there?"

"Maybe," Mac said, "if Ah ever scrounge up enough money to buy land over there. Ah imagine acreage costs a pretty bit with all the mansions and palaces and such."

"I'll put in a good word with Princess Celestia," Twilight said with a chuckle.

"Um, I'm sorry," Fluttershy said quietly as she stood up, "but we should really be...um..."

Macintosh quickly realized what Fluttershy was too shy to say. "Sorry Twilight, but we gotta leave," he said, "we still got one more pony to visit," Mac said. "Sorry we can't stay longer." He gave a small nod to Fluttershy and the pair started to exchange goodbyes with Twilight.

"Are you sure?" Twilight asked. "I was hoping we could have a debate or something. It would help fill up my free time."

"Aw well, Ah don't think that'll do anypony any good," Mac said. "You know me, Ah believe in a personal subjective reality that can't be explained by objective truths."

"Wait what?" Twilight said. "Macintosh, I don't think you quite understand—"

"Doesn't matter, Miss Sparkle. Subjective reality."

"No, Macintosh, that's not—"

"Face it, Twilight. Ah won."

"You can't—you don't just 'win'!"

"Sorry, Twilight, Ah can't hear ya over my subjective reality."

"You're not even using it right!" Twilight groaned, but soon her look of exasperation was replaced with a sly smile. "Just wait, Macintosh," she said. "I have another philosophy book to show you."

"Yeah well Ah got another field for ya," Mac replied. "Ah'll be seein' ya, Twilight. Get better soon." With that, Fluttershy and Mac left her to get some rest, and headed downstairs and out of the library. Judging by the sun, Mac guessed it was about a couple of hours into the afternoon. Hopefully, Applejack would still be asleep or, if she had woken up, had drank her soup already. Still, the faster he went back to the farm, the better.

"Are you going to come back to debate with her?" Fluttershy asked. "I think Twilight would really like that."

Macintosh shrugged. "Truth be told, Ah don't much care for debating. It doesn't change anything. It won't change how Ah feel, it won't change what Twilight thinks, and it certainly won't change anything about a situation. Don't tell Twilight this, but sometimes Ah think debating is just a chance for smart ponies to stroke their egos and show off how smart they are."

"Oh..." Fluttershy said, "I think Twilight would say debating is a way to find out the truth."

"Then it's a good thing Twilight ain't here," Mac said. "It ain't that Ah don't like talking to her, but sometimes Ah wish we could talk about the weather or something. It's a lot easier."

Fluttershy nodded. "I see what you mean." She stayed silent for a minute or so before speaking up again. "I think she likes debating with you because she believes you know things differently than she does."

Macintosh quirked an eyebrow. "Ah doubt it. Don't think there's anythin' in Equestria Ah know that she doesn't."

"Um, what I mean is that...well, she grew up in Canterlot and you grew up on a farm, so I think you two might see the same things differently," Fluttershy said.

"Guess so," Macintosh said with a shrug. "Though Ah don't see why she doesn't debate with Applejack if that were the case."

Fluttershy only nodded and stayed silent for most of the way back. Macintosh half-expected her to speak again, but after a while managed to relax a bit. Only then did she ask another question.

"Uh, Big Macintosh?" Fluttershy said. "Did you have any friends when you were little?"

"Kind of a strange question to ask outta the blue like that," Macintosh said. "Any particular reason you wanna know?"

Fluttershy shrunk behind her mane just a bit, and her cheeks glowed with a slight tinge of red. "Well, Twilight didn't have a lot of friends when she was little so, I thought..."

"Ah've been working on the farm since Ah was a little colt," Big Macintosh said. "Had to leave school for it, so Ah didn't get much chance to. Even before that, though, Ah remember gettin' into a lot of fights. Ah suppose that doesn't count as friendships, huh?" Mac asked. "But Ah made a few friends in Ponyville though, mostly acquaintances, but it ain't like Ah spend a lot of time with any."

"Oh," Fluttershy said, "I see."

The two stayed silent the rest of the way, and the homestead shared their silence as the two ponies entered and went to the kitchen. Mac and Fluttershy set down their saddlebags on the table and Mac rolled his shoulders to loosen them up.

"Ah'll go check up on Applejack," Mac said as he stashed away the rest of the soup in the fridge. "Ah left her some soup, so she might still be fine." Macintosh headed up the stairs in a rush, but he didn't get far before Fluttershy called out to him.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"Ah wouldn't wanna trouble ya any more than Ah already have, Miss Shy," Mac said. "Go ahead an' make yourself comfortable here. I'll go up and see if she needs anythin' and if Ah need ya Ah'll call for ya."

"But it wouldn't be any trouble," Fluttershy said, but her words were lost on the stallion as he climbed up the rest of the stairs. When he knocked on Applejack's door he received a quiet invitation to come in. The door creaked as Macintosh came into his little sister's room.

Applejack looked just about the same as she did when he first saw her in the morning. Bright red cheeks and forehead, bloodshot eyes, and just a bit of snot running down her nose. When she greeted him her voice sounded hoarse and weak. She could barely turn her head to look at him. Beside her bed, on her nightstand, was the bowl he left her earlier, still full. Macintosh approached Applejack and placed a gentle hoof on her forehead. It was more of a formality than anything. He already knew she was burning up.

"You didn't drink your soup?" Mac asked, as if he couldn't see the ruby red liquid for himself.

"Ah told ya Ah didn't want you to go through any trouble for me," Applejack said. "So Ah decided not to have any."

"Sugarcube," Mac said with a small smile, "the trouble's already been had. It just makes more trouble for me when ya don't eat it. C'mon now, drink up, or am Ah gonna have to spoon feed ya?"

"Is Fluttershy here?" Applejack asked.

"Well," Mac said, hesitating for a moment, "yeah, but--"

"Send her in, then."

"Well, uh," Mac stuttered. He stepped up closer to her bed and gave her a smile, "the thing is, sugarcube, that I was out helpin' Fluttershy take care of Rarity, Twilight, and Pinkie." Applejack tilted her head at him, ears perked up. "The flu's goin' around apparently, and, well, it turns out that me and Fluttershy pretty much do the same thing when we're takin' care of sick ponies, so—"

"Mac, just bring her in," Applejack interrupted.

"But, sugarcube, Ah'm—"

"Mac!" Applejack snapped. She took a deep breath and sighed deeply. Then, much more calmly, she said, "Please."

Macintosh said nothing. He only gave her a nod before heading out the bedroom door. He rubbed his eyes, took a deep breath, and smiled as he descended the steps. Fluttershy stood at the bottom, waiting. "She wants ya," Macintosh said. Fluttershy nodded, and headed the way he came. When Mac had all four hooves on the ground floor he looked over his shoulder at the pegasus. "Fluttershy," he said. She stopped halfway to turn and look at him. "Tell her to drink her soup. She'll listen to you."

Fluttershy nodded again, but Mac was already on his way to the kitchen for a drink.

He forgot that there was hardly anything in the fridge, only the soup he placed in it earlier. He stared at the lidded bowls for a few seconds. Taking one, he unsnapped the lid and drank the red liquid in a few quick gulps. He took a deep breath and blew the air out slowly. His mouth was filled with heat and cold all at once, and Mac half expected his breath to become visible. He was about to go back to the fridge for another bowl when he saw, through the kitchen window, Rainbow Dash doing her usual flight training above the orchard. The bowls of soup were instantly forgotten, and Mac sat on the kitchen floor like a spectator at Cloudsdale Stadium, watching. It was nice watching a pony do something they were good at, something they loved, and so Macintosh sat there for the better part of ten minutes sitting there. Finally, he decided to get a better view and headed outside.

Big Mac went out to the fields to see the airshow continue. Rainbow Dash concentrated completely on her maneuvers, eyes shut tight against the wind. Mac figured it was a special sort of training exercise. The training slowed down to an end, and Mac watched as Dash dropped altitude and dived into a feint. The grand finale. She fell lower and lower and lower until she disappeared behind the trees. Then...nothing. For a long while there was nothing and the farmpony started to grow worried. Finally Macintosh galloped where he last saw her, through the fields and apple trees. He found her, a heap on the ground amongst a scattered number of fallen leaves. He quickly went up to her and shook her gently to see if she would wake up.

She did, and with a groan she opened her eyes. "Hey Mac, how's it goin'?" Mac sighed in relief when she spoke. Well, at least she didn't seem too hurt. Though Mac noticed that her face was flushed and her voice sounded a little hoarse. His suspicions were confirmed when a sudden dizzy spell overtook her as she struggled to stand on her hooves. She failed and had to lay on the ground to regain her composure. Mac went up to her, and placed a hoof on her forehead.

"You're burnin' up," Mac said.

"Yeah, so?" Dash said. "I've been training hard that's all. I just need to take it easy and rest for a couple of minutes." She stifled a yawn, and used her forelegs as a pillow.

"You're sick," Mac said, not buying it for a second. "C'mon now, Fluttershy's at my house. Ah'll set ya up in the guest bedroom and she'll take a look at ya after she's done carin' for Applejack."

"No," Dash said, rubbing her nose. "I don't want to see Fluttershy. She'll just guilt me for doing stunts when I'm sick."

"Ah never thought of Fluttershy as the scoldin' type," Mac said.

"She won't say anything," Dash said. "She'll just...look at me with those worried eyes, and that's way worse."

"Well then at least let me take ya inside so you can rest up and have some soup, or would ya rather Ah take ya back to your house?"

"That guest bed is lumpy, and if I go to my place I'll just be staring at my Wonderbolts stuff and thinking about how I should be training," Dash stubbornly said.

Macintosh sighed. "What's it gonna take, Dash?"

"Your bed's comfy," Dash said, "let me sleep there."

"Fine," Mac said, "and then would ya let Fluttershy take care of ya?"

"I'll think about it," Dash said.

It was good enough for Macintosh, and with a bit of maneuvering he managed to sling her across his back with no complaint from the pegasus. Mac headed back to the farmstead as Dash used his mane as a handkerchief. Once inside he made a quick detour into the kitchen to fetch a bowl of soup. He gave it to Dash to hold and headed upstairs to his room. Once in, Dash immediately climbed off his back, placed the bowl on his nightstand, and dug into the blanket and comforter.

"Make yerself at home," Mac said with a small smile. Dash didn't seem to notice, and spent a few minutes just rolling around the mass of sheets and pillows. Meanwhile, Mac undid the bowl's lid, and waited patiently for her to sit up. "Drink up," he said once she had finished messing up his bed. She sat up and took the bowl, sniffing at it a bit before downing it as fast as she could. The onslaught of coughing and sneezing came as usual, and Dash used the blankets to cover her nose and mouth. After it had passed, she took a deep breath and sunk down into the sheets.

"That's better," she said with a yawn. "So I bet you're glad about Applejack being sick, right? Since you get to work on the farm like normal."

"Aw well," Mac said with a chuckle, "Applejack told me to keep off work today."

"What? Why?" Dash asked. "It's not like there's anypony else that's strong enough to do the hard stuff. I mean, unless she wants to hire somepony outside your family."

"Ah'm sure she has her reasons," Mac said.

"What reason could she have?"

"Don't worry about it," he said gently. "For now, just get some rest, alright?" He tucked in the sheets as best he could and made sure she was comfortable. "You had me worried." Their gazes met for a moment, and Macintosh wondered if he should pat down her forelock (scruffier than usual from her rough landing), but he decided to leave her in peace and rest. Especially since her face looked incredibly flushed. With a final smile he turned around and headed for the door.

"Mac?"

His ear twitched at the sound of his name. "What is it, sugarcube?" he asked as he went back beside the bed. Dash had the covers up to her chin, and she avoided making eye contact.

"Could you, maybe, stick around for a bit? Just until I fall asleep?"

Mac smiled. "Sure." He looked over to his nightstand where his mother's music box stood. As quietly as he could he wound it up and let it play to fill the room in soothing tones. It had the unintended effect of making Macintosh sleepy as well and he rested his head on his mattress, just beside Dash. The pegasus smiled and rested a hoof on his snout.

"Mac," she said, "you ever think that what you wanted all your life, might not be what you really want?"

"You having doubts about the Wonderbolts?"

"A little," she said with a sigh. "Did you know Spitfire was my age when she became captain of the Wonderbolts?"

"That so?" Mac said. "How old was she when she saved Equestria the first time? Oh wait, Ah forgot, she didn't."

Dash smiled and slowly her eyes fluttered close.

"Dash?" Mac whispered.

"Yeah?" Dash answered without opening her eyes.

"Ah'm a good brother, ain't I?"

"The best."

Dash soon fell asleep, and Macintosh quietly went to his drawer to fetch a pencil and a sheet of paper. He exited the room and closed the door behind him. With a small smile he headed downstairs and outside to sit on the porch and surround himself with the scent, the sound, and the color of apple trees. So what if he couldn't be of any use to anyone. At least he had fun tagging along with Fluttershy, even if she really didn't need him around. Still, if there was one thing he realized it was that having friends actually made him feel a bit better about the whole thing. The good and bad.

With that in mind, he set the paper on the railing and started writing a letter.

Dear Octavia,

16. The Cellist and the One String Cello

The Cellist and the One String Cello

Mac awoke to the sound of hurried footsteps passing outside his bedroom door. Big Macintosh could tell it was Applejack simply from the rhythm. That was good to hear. It had been a couple of days since she first got the flu, now it seemed like she was back to her old self and up and ready to go. To where, Mac had no clue. He looked out his bedroom window to see the sun just coming up above the horizon. He rubbed his eyes and looked again to be absolutely sure. Strange, he didn’t mean to sleep in. Knowing there was nothing he could do about it now, he rolled out of bed with a yawn. He cleared his throat of the mucus that had built up overnight, and headed out to the hallway to see what all the ruckus was about.

He peered out just in time to see Applejack balancing a tray on her head. Two bowls of the ruby red soup wobbled on top of it. She was trying to walk as fast as possible to Granny Smith’s room, putting the tray even more at risk. She stopped in front of his door, and her gaze seemed to lose focus. Her legs shook and her footing became unsteady. Mac quickly went up to stand beside her, steadying her, and grabbed the tray with his teeth. He raised it and set it down on the ground. “Pull yer reigns there, AJ,” Mac said. “Ah know ya can skip and balance a mug of cider no problem, but yer gonna drop that soup and make a mess if ya go that fast so soon after comin’ off the flu. Nice to see you feelin’ better, though.”

Applejack took a deep breath and nodded. “Been feelin’ fine since this morning,” she said. “Still get a bit dizzy sometimes, but it ain’t a big deal. Ah gotta hurry, though, Applebloom and Granny Smith caught my cold, an’ now they can’t even get out of bed.”

“Oh,” Mac said. “You need any help?” Mac already knew the answer, but he thought it would be polite to ask.

“Thanks for the offer, Mac, but Ah already called the girls for help.”

“Pretty sure they’re sick.”

“Not anymore,” Applejack said. “Fluttershy really worked her magic. Feel free to take the day off, Mac, Ah got everything covered here.”

Mac didn’t have time to answer before he heard the front door opening, followed by the chatter of five mares entering the house. There was no mistaking those voice. “Alright then,” he said. “Just remember that Granny like a lot of pepper in her soup, and if Applebloom doesn’t wanna drink hers then just give her—”

“A spoonful of honey with a few drops mixed in,” Applejack finished for him, adding a small smirk for good measure. “Ah know, just like dad used to do for me. Now git, Ah don’t wanna see hide or hair of ya today. Go make a memory or somethin’.”

“Ah’m goin’, Ah’m goin’,” Mac said as the sound of hoofsteps came up the stairs. “But Ah can’t leave without sayin’ hello?”

Applejack rolled her eyes with a smile. “Alright, keep ‘em busy while Ah give Granny and Applebloom their breakfast. Ah’ll be right back.” She picked up the tray and balanced it on her head once again. She went down the hall to make her delivery while Mac went the opposite way to greet the others at the top of the stairs. The exchange of hellos was like an orchestral pit warming up before a performance.

“Hey Macintosh,” Twilight said first. Above her levitated a thick tome large enough to replace his kitchen table. Without warning she raised the book over him and dropped in on his back. Mac wobbled a bit but managed to steady his stance. “It’s the philosophy book I promised you,” Twilight said with a grin, “the Existentialists.”

Before Macintosh could offer a rebut, a pair of bright pink appendages wrapped around his neck with enough force to make breathing difficult. A fluffy mane covered his nose, making the scent of sugar and vanilla overpowering. “Hey Mackey!” Pinky said happily. “Thanks for the card.”

“Aw well,” Mac said, a small blush on his cheeks as they separated, “it was more Fluttershy’s idea.” He and Fluttershy exchanged glances and the yellow pegasus have him a small nod.

“But…you got the signatures,” Fluttershy said quietly.

“Then I need to hug both of you!” Pinkie swept them both into a tight hug and quite a few giggles had to be suppressed as the others looked on.

“I think you’re choking them, Pinkie,” Rainbow Dash said, not even bothering to hide her laughter.

It was only with great hesitation that Pinkie released Mac and Fluttershy. Mac rubbed his neck, seeing if she had left a bruise. As he did, he caught sight of Rarity as she came up to greet him. “Call me crazy, Rarity,” he said, “but Ah think ya forgot to put on make-up this mornin’.”

“You’re crazy,” Rarity said. “I am in fact wearing a slight bit. I’m experimenting with a few new techniques and brands. Though it’s nice that you noticed.”

“Looks like everyone’s all here,” Applejack said as she closed Applebloom’s door behind her. She went up to the group and gave everyone a quick greeting. “Ah wanna thank y’all for lendin’ a hoof. C’mon, we can talk an’ plan in my room.”

“I thought we could also discuss plans for the reunion in a couple of days,” Twilight said as she followed Applejack.

Big Macintosh had no interest in listening in on their conversation, and slipped out while everyone headed into Applejack’s room. With nowhere else to go he went back into his room, in part to relieve himself of the manuscript Twilight dropped on him.

It looked like he had the day free. As much as he was hesitant to neglect the farm and his family, there was no arguing with Applejack. Besides, he knew exactly how he would spend his free time. Going to his dresser, he pulled open the top drawer and fetched an envelope from it. He read it over again to help him memorize the details. A day trip to Canterlot sounded just fine, and though there was no mention of a dress code, he still wanted to look a bit nicer than usual, which meant a trip to the closet.

Macintosh only had a couple of suits, but he didn’t plan on going completely formal. Instead, he grabbed the harness Rarity made for him all those months ago, and slipped the piece of black wood over his head, but it was loose. Very loose. It wobbled and swung from side to side with every step he took. With a sigh he took it off and placed it back in the closet. Oh well, maybe some nice cologne would be enough. Mac was sure there was a bottle in the bathroom. The same cologne his dad used to woo his mom. No better sales pitch than that, even if Mac was sure a mare had to be looking for more than just a smell. With a confident nod to himself he stepped out and headed for the bathroom.

A quick shower later, Macintosh was looking at his reflection in the mirror. He needed a haircut, but there was simply no time. For now, a ponytail would suffice. Mac grabbed one of Applejack’s mane bands from a little container she kept under the sink, and tied his mane. He then dug deeper through the various cleaners, scrubs, and strange knick-knacks that had found their way under the sink over the years. Finally, he found a small glass bottle filled with a clear liquid. He fetched it and popped open the top to take a sniff. An aged oak whiskey barrel, a well-worn leather jacket, a hint of citrus; even after so many years it smelled exactly the same as when Mac was a colt. Good ol’ Dad. Only stallion he ever knew to die of a broken heart. Not a bad way to go, Mac decided, though a bit too romantic for his taste. He rubbed a bit around his neck, just a bit—the closer a mare had to be to smell it, the better. Satisfied, he carefully hid the bottle back beneath the sink.

Upon leaving the bathroom, he found Twilight and Rarity standing in front of his closed bedroom door. The creaking bathroom door caught their attention and they took a few steps toward him.

“Hey Macintosh,” Twilight said with a smile, the kind of smile used to ease a pony’s worries. It only had the opposite effect. “Rarity and I just wanted to know how you were feeling.”

Mac tilted his head. “Uh, Ah’m feelin’ fine, Twilight. Thanks for askin’. Pretty sure Ah haven’t caught what’s makin’ everypony sick.”

“What we mean, Macintosh,” Rarity pitched in, “is that, well, we just wanted to make sure that you were okay with us taking care of things around here. The farm, and Applebloom, and Granny Smith.”

“Sure Ah’m okay with it,” Mac said with a smile. A smile meant to ease a pony’s worries, his was much better. He wondered for a quick moment whether he needed to bring his saddlebags with him, but ultimately decided against it. With everything ready, he turned and headed for the stairs. “Now if ya need anythin’,” he said over his shoulder, “I’ll be in Canterlot.”

“Really?” Twilight said. “Okay then have fu—”

“Canterlot?” Rarity repeated. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly are you going to do in Canterlot?”

Macintosh turned with a shrug. “I’m goin’ on a date with Octavia.”

“Oh,” Rarity said, “I see.” She was silent for a few seconds, but quickly recovered. “Well, are you sure you want to go with your mane so plain? There’s so much you could do with it.” Rarity went up to him and raised a hoof toward his mane. “Why, with just a little mousse and—” she stopped suddenly, and slowly her hoof went back down. She took a deep breath through her nose and closed her eyes.

“Uh, Rarity?” Twilight said.

Her words were lost on Rarity, whose eyes remained closed for several seconds more. They finally opened with a quick flutter. “Now as I was saying, a little mousse, a bit of primping, and you could look absolutely fantastic.” Her hoof went back to his mane in order to illustrate what she meant.

“Ah appreciate the thought,” Mac said honestly, “but Ah think Ah’ll go as is. Pretty sure Ah’m past the phase where Ah gotta impress her with my looks.”

Rarity sighed. “If you insist. Have fun in Canterlot...but not too much fun.”

Macintosh chuckled. “Ah’ll be back tonight. Take good care of Applebloom and Granny.” He gave the two mares a nod and hurried down the stairs. He went through the front door and headed to the train station. Not once did he look back.

-*-

Octavia’s letter had told him to meet her at her apartment in the older part of Canterlot. He walked along the narrow cobblestone streets and looked at the addresses of the tall apartment buildings. The street really was the oldest thing this side of Canterlot as the buildings were of recent construction. Every so often, Macintosh would see a detached home between two skyscrapers; a holdout against modern development. Finally, Mac stopped at a ten-story building of steel and glass that matched the address he was looking for. He approached the large double doors only to find them locked. Beside them there was a directory of residence and a small speaker beneath it, complete with numbered buttons. Big Macintosh found Octavia’s name on the ninth floor. He pressed the corresponding numbers to call her.

“Yes?” Octavia’s curt voice came out a garbled, distorted mess through the speaker.

“Mac,” Macintosh said. He imagined his voice was just as bad on the other side. The less he said the better.

A buzzer sounded from somewhere nearby and Macintosh went through the now unlocked doors. He entered a large sitting room with a few bookshelves, chairs, and a coffee table tastefully laid out. A few vases full of flowers brightened up the room, and in the far side there were a pair of elevators. With no reception pony or the like to be seen, Macintosh went to the elevators to head to the ninth floor.

One catchy tune later, the elevator doors opened and Mac stepped out into a hallway with only one destination. Not two yards away stood a door emblazoned with a golden number nine. The elevator closed behind him and Mac wondered for an instant if he should turn back. He fought the impulse and knocked on the door. Silence was his only response for a few long minutes. Just when he decided to turn back, the click of a turning doorknob stopped him.

Octavia was without her usual bowtie. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, but the dark rings and bags still remained. Her mane was uncombed, and it looked as if she was trying her hardest not to fall asleep. “Good morning, Macintosh,” she said, trying in vain to stifle a yawn. “Please come in.” She went back inside, leaving the door open so Mac could follow, which he did with a bit of trepidation.

The first thing Mac noticed was how high the ceilings were. Slants and peaks rose higher than what he thought possible in an apartment. Bookshelves made of glass and metal stood at regular intervals around the living room. Taking a closer look, Macintosh found them full of books on music performance, music history, music theory, and ancient tyrants. A single recliner and a coffee table were the only furniture in the living room, and the scarce furnishings were much more obvious in such a large room. A few large windows let in ample amounts of natural sunlight, and a set of double doors led out to a balcony. In a corner was a staircase leading up to even more space. On the opposite side of the living room was the kitchen without any partition between the two. Full of granite countertops and every appliance a pony could ever want, including two ovens. The entire kitchen looked uncomfortably clean.

“Four bedrooms, three bathrooms, hardwood floors throughout,” Octavia said as she sat at her recliner. “It used to be half that until I bought the tenth floor and renovated the two together.”

“You bought an entire floor?” Macintosh asked. He went up to her recliner and sat beside it.

“Not all at once,” Octavia said. “I simply bought the condos one by one. I’m working on the eighth floor now. There’s a couple from Manehattan that are stubbornly holding on to their apartment.”

“So why exactly are ya doin’ this?” Mac asked. “You trying to buy up the whole building?”

“That and the surrounding vacant lots.” Octavia yawned again and reclined the chair a bit. “About our date. I was hoping we could go out to eat and to celebrate, but as it so happens there is nothing to celebrate.” She sighed and propped her chin on her front hoof. “So if you don’t mind, I would like to spend our date indoors.”

Macintosh fought his first impulse to blush. Rather, he opted to gently place the back of his fetlock against her forehead. Octavia did not seem to enjoy it and narrowed her eyes at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Checkin’ to see if you’re sick.”

“I’m not.”

The temperature of her head felt normal, and the forehead test never lied. Ever. So with a nod Macintosh removed his hoof and took a step back. Okay, so her disheveled appearance wasn’t caused by an illness. She definitely had neglected sleep, but knowing Octavia that may not be very unusual. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asked, deciding it was best to get answers straight from the pony’s mouth. Octavia leaned back farther on her chair and shook her head. No luck. But soon an answer came in the form of Octavia’s growling stomach. Mac smiled and headed to the kitchen. “How about I make us something to eat.”

“Good luck,” Octavia called after him.

Mac ignored her, unsure of what she meant, but it didn’t remain a mystery for long. Opening the fridge he found…nothing. Absolutely nothing. Same with the freezer, and the cupboards, and the drawers. No food or even utensils or pots and pans. Mac went to the stove to see if it would, in fact, turn on. It did, thankfully. The only thing he did find in all that storage space were a few sheets of paper, a pencil, and a book tucked away beneath the sink. He grabbed the latter and placed it on the island in the center of the kitchen.

“There’s another kitchen upstairs if you still feel like wasting your time,” Octavia said with a smile.

“Real cheeky,” Mac said. “So if ya don’t cook…at all, then why do ya got this cookbook?” he asked, flipping through the pages. The cookbook featured nothing but desserts, hundreds and hundreds of them. Every so often he would find a dessert that had its page number circled along with a name scribbled in the margins. The name differed with each circled number.

“It’s my catalog of desserts I want to eat,” Octavia said. “Once I’ve eaten what I feel is the pinnacle of a dessert, I circle the page number and mark the name of the chef that made it.”

Macintosh took in her explanation and shrugged. He’d heard stranger hobbies. He idly flipped through the book and stopped when he saw a recipe for apple pie. A spark of pride welled up in his chest when he saw the page number circled and his name decorated beside it. It also gave him an idea.

“Judging by your face, I see you’ve found your name,” Octavia said with another yawn.

“You put a little heart next to it.”

“I was very drunk, I assure you.”

Macintosh chuckled and brought the cookbook to her. “You know,” he said after placing it on her stomach, “Ah bet Ah could make any one of these desserts and make it better than any you ever tried.”

Octavia smiled and opened the cookbook. “My, aren’t we trying hard to impress. You might make a delicious apple pie, Macintosh, but I bet you couldn’t make a…” she flipped through the pages and stopped at a seemingly random dessert, “sachertorte.”

“Eeyup,” Mac said, “course Ah would use apple preserves and bourbon to make the filling.”

Octavia chuckled under her breath. “Fine,” she said, flipping through another page. “What about a croquembouche?”

“Eeyup.”

“Tiramisu?”

“Eeyup.”

“Root beer float?”

“Eeyup.”

“Trifle?”

“Eeyup.”

“Apple pie?”

Macintosh quirked an eyebrow. “You already know Ah can make that.”

“I know,” Octavia said. “I want to eat it again.”

“Sure, I could make it again. Only thing is that it might not taste as good since Ah ain’t got any apples from the farm. So what do ya say? Ah bet ya all the apples you could eat that Ah can make all of those desserts and make ‘em the most delicious you ever had.”

Octavia set the chair upright and hopped off, the book falling to the floor. She picked it up and set it on the coffee table. “Alright, but if any of those desserts are not the best I ever ate, then not only do you have to give me all the apples I can eat, but you have to be my personal cook for a month. My every gluttonous whim you must sate, no matter the time or location.” She took a pencil and paper atop the table, flipped through the cookbook, and started writing down ingredients.

Mac tilted his head. “Sounds a bit impractical,” Mac said. “Ah mean, Ah can’t just leave Ponyville and take a train to Canterlot to make ya something to eat, and then go all the way back.”

“That’s none of my concern,” Octavia said with a sly smile. “Now let’s go to the supermarket, we have a lot to buy. It’s not going to be cheap to buy everything we need. Oh well, spending money always makes me feel better.”

Mac almost froze when he realized what she meant. He recovered quickly. “Ah was thinkin’ we could go to my place to cook, that way ya wouldn’t have to buy so much stuff.”

“I’m hungry, Macintosh, and it would be quicker to simply get all the ingredients and cookware and cook everything at my apartment. Besides, it’s no trouble.”

“Ah just don’t feel comfortable with ya spendin’ so much money just ‘cause of a bet Ah made with ya.”

Octavia gave him a smirk that somehow made the bags under her eyes appear less noticeable. “I know you don’t.” She grabbed a pair of her saddlebags hanging on a coatrack by the front door and headed out. Macintosh could only follow her.

-*-

Mac pushed the shopping cart with the brunt of his chest, idly looking down the aisles of food for anything they needed. According to Octavia, this was the largest supermarket in Canterlot. It supplied every caterer, restaurant, café, and dining hall of note. Of course, nobody called it a supermarket. The word ‘supermarket’ was much too pedestrian.

“Instead ponies call it the Boutique de Cuisine, or something along those lines.” Octavia shrugged and led the way to an aisle filled with cookware. Pots, pans, baking sheets, whisks, blenders, and everything else that could ever belong in a kitchen. “I just call it a supermarket. It’s much more pretentious that way.” She grabbed whatever caught her eye and started piling appliances into the cart.

“Ah don’t think we need a tortilla press, Octi,” Mac said.

“You never know.”

The shopping continued, and the pair went up and down every aisle getting everything they needed. Flour, sugar, milk, eggs, strawberries, cinnamon, an ice cream maker, a trifle dish, baking pans, butter, ice, liquor—so much liquor, corn syrup, thermometers, sponges, soap, plates, heavy cream, forks, knives, grenadine, spoons, and much more. Soon both Octavia and Mac were pushing their own carts, and Mac was even pulling an extra one behind him. He didn’t mind.

“So Macintosh,” Octavia said as the two walked down one of the many aisles. “How are things back at home? Is your sister still trying to tell you what to do, what to think, and what to feel?”

Macintosh smiled, not even bothering to correct her. “My baby sister and grandma are sick,” he said.

“I see,” Octavia said. “I’m surprised you aren’t at their bedsides right now caring for their every need and want, or at least tending to the farm now that half your family is incapacitated.”

“She’s got her friends to help take care of all that stuff,” Mac said.

“The other Elements of Harmony?”

“Eeyup.”

“You must be so happy for her,” Octavia said with a smirk. Macintosh didn’t say anything, and only watched her move down the aisle of soda in search of the last ingredient. There was a touch of knowing sarcasm in her voice, as if she and him had some understanding. But to be honest, Mac had no idea what she was getting at. He was happy for her, of course he was. Mac sighed and followed Octavia as she inspected the bottles.

“Cola, ugh, Lime, bah, Lemon Lime, Lime, Lime Lemon, Lemon Lime. All these lesser drinks are for peasants. Where’s the-Ah. There it is.” She grabbed a bottle of root beer and placed it in her cart. “That’s everything. Let’s bring this to the front and pay.”

“How’re we gonna bring this all back to your place?” Mac asked, lugging his two carts to the front of the store.

“Don’t worry,” Octavia said, “they offer free delivery with purchases greater than a thousand bits.”

“A thousand bits?” Mac exclaimed. “You really think it’s gonna be that much?”

“Even more,” Octavia answered with a smirk. They placed the three carts by a counter where a cashier waited to ring up the bill. Once the total was calculated, Octavia paid with a few pouches of bits. She then filled out a form for delivery, and beckoned for Mac to follow her. He did, and the two walked out of the store completely unburdened. It was a strange feeling for Mac, to go into a market, buy things, and leave with nothing. A part of him was looking forward to pulling a cart filled with everything Octavia had bought. He couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

However, something else nagged at the back of his mind. Why was Octavia going through all this trouble and all this money just for a bet? Sure, he could believe she loved desserts, but even that had its limits. It just seemed strange that one moment she was leaning back in her recliner and the next she was up and about shopping and dropping bits.

A sudden thought came to him as they walked down the street. It was a long shot, but he couldn’t help but take it. He just had to use a bit of tact. “You often go shopping and rack up a four digit grocery bill?”

“This is the first time I ever went grocery shopping,” Octavia said. “Usually I go to a restaurant for my meals.”

“So why the change of pace?”

“You offered to cook.”

Mac smiled. “Well why did ya decide to buy so much stuff? We could’ve gone back to Sweet Apple Acres and Ah could’ve cooked for you there. No need for ya to spend so much money on things yer probably never gonna use again.”

“Please Macintosh,” Octavia said with a smirk, “I can afford it. Thankfully, money is no issue for me. If I want to spend a grand or two, then why not.”

“Wow, so you’re kind of a big shot in Canterlot, huh?” Mac asked with a chuckle.

“Well…I thought that was obvious.”

“Yer tryin’ to impress me, ain’t ya?”

“I…what?” Octavia said, convincingly surprised. However, the slight red tinge on her cheeks betrayed her true feelings.

“You are!” Mac said with a laugh. “You thought that throwing down all this money, like it was nothing, would impress me.” Octavia stuttered as she tried to rebuff, before she could, Mac smiled and rested his chin on top of her head. “Admit it, you like me.” Octavia said nothing for a long while, only taking in deep, long breaths from her nose.

“On the contrary,” she said, “I’ve never hated a pony more in my entire life.” Despite her words, she made no attempt to escape from under his chin, scowling as she was. “Besides, I don’t have to impress you with my money. I could do that with my cello.”

“Or yer kind, loving heart,” Mac said with a smirk.

“Now you’re trying to make me sick,” Octavia muttered. “Let’s hurry. Our supplies will be delivered within the hour, and I’m still hungry.”

“Ready to go when you are,” Mac said. Octavia sighed and took another deep breath before continuing the way to her apartment. The streets were a bustle of ponies all dressed up with somewhere to go. All these stallions with their manes slicked back made him wonder if he should have taken up Rarity’s offer. Well, there wasn’t much he could do about it now. Besides, it wasn’t as if Octavia’s mane was any better.

“Giving it a little thought,” Octavia said, “I don’t think I’m the one that’s supposed to impress.”

“But you are,” Mac said with a smile, “and Ah just think it’s adorable.”

Octavia scoffed. “Oh for the love of Celestia…”

Luckily for Octavia, the pair were at the front of her building before the conversation could go any further. She didn’t waste any time punching in the code and entering. The elevator was ridden in an easy silence. Mac didn’t feel like prodding a hungry Octavia anymore. It was best just to wait until she had something to eat.

“I hope the food gets here soon,” Octavia said as the elevators opened up on the ninth floor. To her great delight and surprise all their supplies were already piled at her door. Macintosh had to stifle a laugh as she looked at the foodstuffs like a pony staring into nirvana. She quickly composed herself and cast a cool sideways glance at Macintosh. “Mac, if you would,” she said, opening the door to her apartment. Mac could only chuckle.

It took about twenty minutes to get everything inside and organized in the kitchen, and there was more than enough countertop space to allow everything they would need to sit comfortably where Mac could easily reach them. Octavia spent most of the time greedily gazing at the ingredients, knowing full well that they would soon create delightful desserts for her to devour.

“Well then, Macintosh, I’ll leave you to it,” Octavia said, stifling a yawn as she left the kitchen. “I’ll be in my room taking a nap.”

Macintosh quickly stepped forward, grabbed the end of her tail with his teeth, and dragged her back. “Now hold on,” he said.

“Did you just—”

“Ah ain’t gonna do this by myself. What am Ah, yer butler?”

“Not yet,” Octavia said with a smirk.

Mac ignored her. He had to, otherwise he might lose his train of thought. “How about you help me out? Might be nice.” He pressed his nose against hers. He had to keep himself from smiling too wide when he saw Octavia’s cheeks redden just slightly. She glared at him, though it didn’t carry the same weight as it usually did. She finally took a step back and vigorously shook her head.

“What about the bet?” Octavia asked. “Does it make sense for me to help you win a bet against me?”

“If it’s unfair, then it’s unfair to me,” Mac retorted. “After all, Ah’m gonna get help from a pony that, judgin’ by how empty yer kitchen is, doesn’t know a thing about cooking. Heck, you’d have a better chance of winning if you did help me.”

Octavia placed a hoof on her chin in thought, then, after another yawn, she gave him a nod and stood beside him. She gave a cursory glance to the ingredients all around her and quirked an eyebrow at Mac. “Where should I start?”

“You know how to make custard?”

“You know I don’t.”

Macintosh chuckled as he started to organize everything that had to be done. The ice cream base would have to be made, churned, and chilled. Dough would have to be kneaded, sponge cake baked, fruit sliced, choux pastry prepared, phyllo dough rolled. He needed to make the baklava without Octavia knowing. He wanted to keep it a nice little surprise for her.

When it came to cooking, Macintosh was a little more correct about Octavia’s skills than he thought. Though a master with the cello, she was a blank slate in the kitchen. Macintosh actually enjoyed teaching her as much as he could, everything from how to temper eggs to mixing dough. He guided her hooves, showing her how to do every task. Octavia, to her credit, was a quick learner, and started to figure out how to do things for herself with only a few tips from Mac. Oftentimes their closeness caused her to blush furiously. Judging by her dead-set scowl, she didn’t like the obvious display of emotion. Every time it would happen she would turn away from him, making some excuse or another, and shake her head. Only after the blush faded would she continue to help.

While Mac valued her help, he was worried at her obvious lack of sleep. Octavia would yawn or rub her eyes every couple of minutes, and the warmth of the kitchen only made it worse. Macintosh would often leave Octavia with something and, once he was sure she had it, focus on a bubbling pot only to return and see her starting to nod off. The fifth time this happened, Mac found Octavia completely asleep. Her face whitened with flour as she used a ball of dough as a pillow. He had to stifle his laughter in order not to wake her.

Mac set the burners on low and lifted Octavia up onto his back with a grunt, a cloud of flour dust billowing up off her coat. She was heavier than she looked. Octavia shifted a little and took a deep breath. “It’s the door to the right of the balcony,” she murmured. Macintosh assumed she was leading him to her bedroom. He headed there and opened the door. Entering, there was no doubt in his mind that this was indeed Octavia’s room. A wrought iron bed frame held up a king size mattress, covered in ivory sheets. Two dark oak nightstands flanked her bed; only one of them had a lamp. Opposite her bed was an armoire that matched the stain of the nightstands. In one solitary corner was her cello practically glittering on its stand in the plentiful sunlight coming in through the windows.

But what stood out most were the pure white walls with black marker scrawled on their surfaces. Dozens and dozens of grand staves were drawn in every spare space available, including the ceiling, and each one was filled with hundreds and hundreds of notes and symbols, some of which Mac recognized and some he didn’t. The very sight of such a work, of such purpose, filled him with a warm feeling he couldn’t quite identify. He went to the side of the bed and rolled her onto it. He grabbed the corner of her comforter and draped it over her.

“Are you…tucking me in?” Octavia asked.

It was Mac’s turn to blush as he took a couple steps back from the bed. “Sorry,” he said, “Ah guess it’s just a force of habit.” Octavia only smiled at him weakly before dozing off. Mac wondered if he should finish tucking her in, but he ultimately decided against it. Instead he went back to admire the wall of music for a few more seconds. He pressed a fetlock against the ink to make sure it was dry before tracing a hoof along the bass clef. If he ever heard this played, he bet it would be the most beautiful thing he ever heard.

It was funny, wasn’t it? To think that he had taken some satisfaction in teaching her how to cook. It was no wonder she couldn’t. Why would she ever bother if she could do something like this? This was leaps and bounds ahead of what he could ever do. Big Mac silently stepped out of her room and closed the door behind him. As much as he felt like contemplating further, he had things to do and food to cook.

He continued his cooking by himself, but although things went faster, he missed Octavia’s company. Still, that just made him want to surprise her even more with all the food he was making. It took a couple of hours to get everything nearly ready. All that was needed was for each dessert to be baked, chilled, assembled, or some combination of the three. But he had a problem. Even with two ovens there was simply not enough room to bake everything all at once. Of course, he could simply bake in a sequential order, but by the time the last dessert was baked the first dessert would be completely cold. Octavia did say there was another kitchen upstairs. Maybe that one had double ovens as well.

Mac set the ovens to preheat before heading up the stairs. The upper floor was absolutely…barren. There was no furniture at all except for a kitchen that was practically identical to the one downstairs. His hoofsteps echoed throughout the empty level as Macintosh looked for anything, anything at all, that filled the space. He found nothing. Not one couch or bookshelf or lamp. Why would Octavia want this much space when she didn’t do a thing with it? The entire floor felt like an apartment that had yet to be rented. Mac supposed that was exactly what it would be if Octavia hadn’t annexed it. With nothing else to see or do, Mac went to the ovens and set them up to preheat. With that done, he went downstairs and started to divvy up the desserts between the two kitchens and the four ovens.

Soon the two floors were filled with the scent of bread, sugar, and caramel.

-*-

The sun had just dipped below the horizon when Mac finished drizzling the last of the syrup onto the now cooled baklava. The ice cream had hardened to an enjoyable consistency, the ganache had set on the sachertorte, the macaroons had been assembled, and the croquembouche had been drizzled with caramel. The appetizer was prepared as well. He figured dessert was fine enough, but a quick starter course would make the unbalanced meal even better. Normally he would be worried about eating so much food, but he knew that Octavia had a bigger appetite than one would expect from a pony her size.

As if attracted by the smell of chocolate and vanilla, Octavia peered out her door and looked at the dinner table laden with food. She hurried to the table only to circle it slowly, eyeing each dessert like a lion stalking its prey. “Smells good,” she said. Mac smiled, noticing that her mane was nicely combed and her eyes no longer tired. The nap did her a world of good.

“Ah made minestrone soup,” Mac said as he placed a bowl in front of her. “Ah figure Ah’d make something light to leave plenty of room for dessert.” Octavia said nothing and only stared at her bowl of soup with a frown. Mac wasn’t sure what it meant. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You don’t like minestrone?”

Octavia sighed and shook her head. “No, Macintosh, I love minestrone. It’s just…I just need a moment.” She gazed at her soup for another minute. Finally, she lifted the bowl and tipped it to her mouth, taking a sip of the red broth. A small smile crossed her lips, but it vanished quickly. “Why are you doing this?”

Mac quirked an eyebrow at her. “’Cause we made a bet.”

“The bet didn’t include baklava, or minestrone, or éclairs. You made a dozen other things besides the desserts we agreed upon. For that matter, why did you even make the bet? Why did you want to make me the best desserts I ever tasted?” Octavia asked.

It was a fair question, but not one that Mac knew how to answer. He supposed he could simply tell her that he liked to cook. He could tell her that he had nothing else to do and that cooking was a way to pass the time. He could tell her that his mom always cooked for him when he was upset and, though she tried to hide it, he knew Octavia was upset about something. But while all these answers would be true, none of them were quite complete. So instead of giving her an answer, he simply poured himself a bowl of soup, his first meal of the day, and sat beside her. “Yer soup’s gettin’ cold.”

Octavia rolled her eyes but said nothing more, continuing to eat her soup until there was nothing left. Then it was time for the main course.

Despite their best efforts, the two only managed to put a slight dent in the desserts. Octavia made sure to take a bite out of everything, leaving nothing intact. She never did tell him if they were the best desserts she ever had. Judging by the way she wolfed down everything from the tiramisu to the trifle, Mac assumed he had won the bet, or at least had a pretty good shot.

Soon even Octavia had her fill. She held a profiterole to her mouth, only to cringe and let it drop back onto her plate. “You live...for now,” Octavia muttered to the cream puff. With no more stomach to spare, Octavia leaned into Mac, her head resting against his neck. Every muscle in Mac’s body tensed as he felt her breath on his neck. Needless to say, her sudden comfort with him caught him off guard. He took a deep breath, and finished the éclair on his own plate. He hadn’t gone all out like she did. He had to save room for a drink or two, after all. Octavia frowned at him when he moved away from her, but she quickly perked up when she saw him pouring whiskey into two glasses. Mac placed the glasses on the table and got back into position. They sipped in silence, and it would have stayed that way if Mac had not decided to ask a question that had been on his mind for a while.

“Ah went upstairs to use the ovens,” Mac began.

“Did you?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said, swirling his glass and staring at the whirling amber liquid. “Couldn’t help but notice that there’s a lotta unused space up there. Ah was wonderin’ why ya bothered to buy the floor above ya when yer just gonna leave it empty.”

“Oh, that,” Octavia said. She finished her drink in a gulp and set down her empty glass with a bit more force than necessary. “It’s because I have a very low tolerance for interaction with other ponies.” She sat up and went to the double doors leading to the balcony, tossing them open, with Macintosh following behind. “Sometimes I’m able to overcome this by, say, buying an entire floor of an apartment building. Other times it…holds me back.”

The Canterlot skyline was lit in bright lights. Though much taller buildings surrounded Octavia’s apartment, the ninth floor was still high enough to look down on the terrain at the base of the mountain. Mac squinted to see the silhouette of Ponyville snuggled within the darkness, only a few twinkles of light visible amongst the houses. The sky above held no stars, but Mac could see the full moon above. That was something, at least.

Macintosh thought for a moment as he looked at the view. “Does this got anything to do with what you were supposed to celebrate today?” he asked.

Octavia sighed and leaned her chin on the railing. “The Canterlot Symphony Orchestra rejected me.”

“Oh,” Macintosh said, unsure of what to say. “Well…Ah’m sure with a bit of practice—”

“Don’t insult me,” Octavia snapped. She turned to him with a glare and stepped forward. “I don’t need practice. I am the best, Macintosh. I am the best cellist, I am the best composer, I am the best musician. Don’t take it as a boast but as a simple fact acknowledged by ponies both in and out of the musical circles of Canterlot. The only reason the Symphony rejected me was because they didn’t need another cellist. Imagine that!” She kicked the railing with a back hoof, but only the softest sound of reverberating metal rang out. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I would have had to take a smaller salary if I was accepted. It’s better this way.” She shook her head and leaned against the railing again. “Enough about me. Let’s hear of your dashed dreams.”

Macintosh looked up at the purple sky for a bit before speaking. “Ain’t so much dashed dreams as it is just coming to my senses.”

“So you’re completely fine with being underutilized and underappreciated?”

“Ah wouldn’t put it like that,” Macintosh said. “Ah’m just takin’ it easy that’s all. Besides, so long as my family is happy, then Ah’m happy.”

“I see,” Octavia said. “Are you happy?”

Macintosh said nothing. A breeze picked up, giving a chill to the otherwise warm summer night.

“Can I tell you a story, Macintosh?” Octavia asked.

“Sure, what ya got?”

“My first cello came from the dumpster of a music store,” Octavia began.

“Ah remember,” Mac said. “It only had one string.”

“Exactly,” Octavia said. “Though it was made of the finest dumpster-grade plywood. I learned everything I could from that cello, trying to get every single sound from that one string. I became a street performer, and I soon made enough to afford a dingy apartment and a daily meal. As my talent grew so did the amount of bits I earned. Soon enough I was able to buy a proper cello. Nothing fancy, just practical. Do you know what I did with that one string cello, Macintosh?”

“Nnope,” Mac said, “but Ah figure that’s what the point of the story is.”

Octavia shot him a glare, but continued anyway. “I gave it its missing strings, and gave it to another little pony that needed it more than I did. And that is the point of my story. You can’t tie your happiness to a thing or a pony or a group of ponies. For me, I am at my happiest when playing a cello. Not just my first cello, or my second, or even the one I have now. That’s how it works. You find what makes you happy and you do it. So I ask you, Macintosh, what makes you happy?”

To Mac’s surprise, he didn’t have to think very long. “Well, Ah gotta admit, Ah was pretty happy when Ah was cookin’.”

“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” she said with a smug smirk. “So why don’t you enroll in culinary school or—”

“Ah don’t think it was just cookin’,” Mac interrupted. He stared down at the street below, watching as the rare passer-by walked beneath them. “Ah like cookin’ for ponies Ah care about. Ah guess…Ah like takin’ care of the ponies Ah care about.”

“Well,” Octavia said, “that’s a bit more difficult.” She stared off toward the royal palace, its spires the highest constructed points in all of Canterlot. They were mostly dark except for a few lighted windows near their peaks. “Why don’t you move in with me?”

“What?” Mac said, his eyes widening as he took a step back from the force of her statement. “Move in with you? Octavia, We ain’t even had our first kiss yet, or any of the other things couples are supposed to do before they move in together.”

Octavia chuckled. “Supposed to do? Couples aren’t supposed to do anything. It’s not as if there’s some binding process. To you, a relationship might be a slow progression from one act or circumstance to another, but for me it’s simply a line of decisions to be made.”

“So you’ve already decided on whether you’d kiss me or not,” Mac said.

“Yes,” Octavia said, “and for your information, I’ll make many more decisions in about five minutes.”

“Five minutes?”

“It’s when the last train to Ponyville leaves.”

“Oh,” Mac said, his cheeks starting to burn. “Well…then what made ya decide that me movin’ in wouldn’t be so bad? You don’t seem the type to give up your privacy so easy.”

Octavia smirked but told him nothing. She finished her drink and went inside with her empty glass. “It’s getting cold out,” she said.

Mac rolled his eyes, but finished his own drink and followed her in nonetheless. “So you’re sayin’ that, if Ah wanted to, Ah could just move in tomorrow, and you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not one bit,” Octavia said. “Consider it. After all, you said you were happy cooking for me, and honestly I didn’t mind either. Not only that, but if you wanted work, I’m sure you could find something. You know Fancy Pants, and I’m sure he would be happy to give you a job. I’ll even help you write a résume. Or if you would rather farm, I’m sure I could buy the surrounding lots and lease it to you with very fair terms.”

“Ah appreciate the offer,” Mac said with a smile, “but there’s still work for me to do on Sweet Apple Acres. Heck, our harvest time is comin’ up real soon. That’s gonna keep me busy for a while.”

“Fair enough,” Octavia said. “Far be it from me to convince you otherwise.”

Macintosh nodded and remained silent for a long time. He looked up at a clock hanging above a bookcase. It was already past midnight. Octavia followed his gaze. “I suppose it is getting late,” she said. “The last train to Ponyville just left, and there won’t be another until morning. Would you like to sleep in my room?”

“Ah wouldn’t want to inconvenience ya,” Macintosh said.

“No, Macintosh, I mean with me.”

Mac’s cheeks burned hot as he realized what she meant. He stuttered as he tried to properly articulate a respone. “Ah-well-ya see-”

Thankfully, Octavia quickly put him out of his misery with a smile and a hoof raised to his lips. “Calm down before you have a heart attack. I completely understand. There’s a guest room behind the door across mine.” She removed her hoof and used it to stifle a yawn. “Sweet dreams,” she said, heading for her room.

There was something about her tone: a watered down, almost playful version he often heard when she was denigrating another pony. Macintosh rolled his eyes, and quickly said something to defend himself. “We haven’t even had our first kiss yet,” he reminded her.

Octavia turned around with a smirk that tied his stomach into a knot. Wordlessly she stepped toward him, and his heart skipped a beat when she came close enough for him to feel her breath on the tip of his nose. His mind raced, trying to figure out what he should do. Close his eyes? Pucker his lips? Object to the whole thing?

Mac didn’t get a chance to do anything or to feel anything as Octavia took a step past him so that her lips were right by his ears. “Believe me, Big Macintosh Apple, that can be easily remedied.” She chuckled quietly and headed for her room once again. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.

Mac, alone with his thoughts and a few dozen pounds of dessert, sighed and started putting away the leftovers. Unfortunately, the task only took him about twenty minutes. When he was finished the kitchen was spotless, he was still wide awake, and Octavia’s words still occupied his head. He went to the cupboard beneath the sink and pulled out the sheets of paper and pencil he had seen earlier. There was no putting it off anymore, and it might allow him to gather his thoughts. He took the pencil and sat down to write a letter.

Dear Princess Celestia,

I hate to admit it, but ever since you told me to write this letter I’ve hardly thought about it. I guess I’ve been avoiding it. The truth is that, while I know I’ve learned something, I’m not sure how to put it into words. How do you put together all the small lessons learned bit by bit into one great big epiphany? Especially when there never was that sort of spark when you suddenly know what’s what. Things happened a lot slower than that for me.

Considering everything, I think the most important thing I’ve learned is

Macintosh put down his pencil. What had he learned? How to let go? How to deal with a family that outgrew you? How good friends can help you cope? None of those things seemed right. Maybe he should write about how he learned to take it easy. To not worry so much and just enjoy life as it came. To not get so caught up with work as to forget what really mattered. Maybe those were closer to what he wanted to say. Mac sighed, and decided to skip that part for now.

Even with all the things I’ve learned, I’m still unsure of the direction I’m heading. I’ve come to terms with the fact that my family and the farm don’t need me like they used to. Now what?

Big Macintosh looked up from his paper at Octavia’s door. Her light was still on.

Do I just go to the next pony that needs

He erased that last word. No, that wasn’t the right one. Wants? Accepts? Cares for? Can make use of? Mac shook his head, unable to come up with the right word. He would just have to come back to it later.

I just want my family to be happy.

No, that wasn’t exactly right.

I just want my family to be happy.

Why did he feel so guilty about that?

Mac crumpled the sheet of paper, and then tore it up for good measure. That was enough writing for today. Macintosh discarded the scraps of paper and walked to one of the bookcases nearby, idly skimming the rows of titles. It looked like Princess Celestia would have to wait a little longer for his friendship report, and it looked like he needed to start thinking more about it. He just needed to find that common ribbon, the one that, when pulled, would tie everything together into a neat little bow. Something that could be summarized in a letter.

Maybe he was just overthinking things. He wished he could be more like Octavia in that regard. Just make a decision with no regard to its rightness or wrongness. Act and react. It might be simplistic, but there was something very attractive about it.

With a sigh, Macintosh decided that he had done enough thinking for the day, and perhaps enough for many more days to come. With nothing else to do he decided to go to bed, heading for the door to the left of the balcony.

The room inside was barren to say the least. Nothing but a bed with white sheets, a nightstand, and a lamp. There was a closet tucked in a corner filled with pillows and sheets. Mac smiled as he saw them. Perhaps Octavia put them there so she wouldn’t have to hear complaints from her guests about being too cold. The room looked more like one he would find in a hotel than in someone’s home. Not exactly comforting. He suddenly realized how far away from home he was. He missed the sounds of the apple orchard; the sound of rustling leaves beneath the stars.

Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it was time to move on. Leave the house he grew up in, like normal ponies are supposed to do. Besides, if he were to live in Canterlot it wouldn’t be so far away, only a train ride would separate him and his friends and family. That didn’t sound so bad. Mac turned around and leaned against the door frame, staring out across the living room at Octavia’s door.

Her light was still on.

17. Apple Family Histories

Apple Family Histories

The wind picked up around two in the morning, and the breeze blew gently and steadily through Canterlot. A couple of hours later the breeze gained force, and dust devils spun themselves through the streets between the skyscrapers. Macintosh sat on Octavia’s balcony watching it all unfold, a pencil and sketchbook in hoof to capture the spectacle. He had been practicing Rarity’s lessons, and his skill had improved quite a bit. Not the best of course, but definitely better. However, soon he couldn’t keep the pages of his sketchbook from flipping and rustling, and so he gave up drawing altogether. By sunrise, the howl of the wind muffled every other sound in the city. It reminded Macintosh of the winds that tore through the Everfree Forest when he and Twilight and Fluttershy traveled to bring the Squall back to its home.

Macintosh shook his head, and looked up at the sky, squinting at the rising sun. He had spent the entire night sketching, thinking, and reminiscing, and he had grown sick of the latter two. He needed to do something, anything, to get his mind off things, but every time he tried to think, the rushing wind quieted his thoughts. He hummed as he looked down at the nearby trees bending slightly, the edges of a few of their leaves were starting to redden. Autumn was definitely coming, and coming soon. Well then, perhaps he could have a little fall weather fun.

Macintosh headed back inside the apartment, eager to go outside, but he stopped to look at Octavia's door. Her light was off. He sighed and ran a hoof through his mane. Sometimes it felt like the only thing he was good at anymore was being an indecisive lump of pony. He would make it up to her, that was a promise, and as he made that promise, he headed out and took the elevator down to the lobby. He still remembered the code Octavia had used to get into the apartment building. He hoped no one would mind his use of it. More importantly, he hoped no one would mind his little project.

-*-

Octavia still hadn’t woken up by the time Macintosh came back with his supplies: twine, sticks, instant-dry glue, cellophane in several colors, and other various doodads and knickknacks. He laid everything out on the table and got to work. He cut the cellophane, giving it structure with the sticks and glue, and tied the twine to the intersection of sticks. He held up the purple kite he made into the sunlight filtering in from the windows. Macintosh smiled as it made everything in his view purple. More colorful than a black and white sketch, that was for sure.

Now all he had to do was find a way onto the roof. Taking his kite, Macintosh climbed the stairs into the second story of Octavia’s apartment. It was the highest apartment, so logically there would be a way to access the roof from here. He looked around until he found a fire escape past a door in the kitchen. Macintosh climbed the metal stairs and up to the roof.

The edges of the roof were lined with a wrought iron safety fence. Ducts and snaking pipes divided the ground. Macintosh crept to the edge, the force of the wind pushing against him, and tied the twine to the gate. He let loose the kite and it immediately flew up until it was just a speck in the sky. Not bad. Not bad at all.

But he would need a couple hundred more.

The work was tedious and consisted of doing the same thing over and over again. In short, it was the perfect type of work to help Macintosh forget about his troubles. He worked with every color he could imagine, and experimented with different sizes and structures. He had no solid blueprint or framework or even an idea of what he was making. He only made kites, climbed to the roof, and allowed them to fly above, anchored to the railings and the ducts and the pipes, wherever he could find a place to tie string. After a few dozen the idea began to take shape, and once he reached the first hundred he knew what he had to do, what colors to incorporate, what positions the kites had to be in relation to each other, and the size of the overall design.

The project was a strange one, Macintosh had to admit. The tedium reminded him of the farm, and just like working on the farm, there were various aspects that needed to be considered. With this project, however, the considerations were a bit more artistic in nature. He liked it.

It took several hours to get everything the way he wanted. When everything was ready and he got it to the closest level of perfection he could, he left a note on the fire escape door urging Octavia to come up, and then he sat on the roof to examine his work. Knots of twine were tied everywhere. There were even a few kites anchored by bundles of sticks lodged into tight spaces to get the positioning right. To think he was once worried he wouldn’t have enough string.

Up above was the real spectacle, though. A great big multi-colored apple, not unlike the one that covered large portions of his backside. It was a pain in the flank get all the curves just right, but he had to say it was worth it. He just hoped Octavia didn’t mind.

The sun filtered through the cellophane, casting a gleaming, rainbow shadow on the ground below. The colors and light on the ground danced and glimmered along with the swaying kites. The refraction of light was almost like being underwater.

A door opened in the nearby distance, and the distinct tap of hooves on metal came closer. Octavia was awake. It was about time, it was almost noon. “Macintosh, why is there a crowd of ponies outside the building?” she asked as she climbed up onto the roof. She looked as prim and pressed as always, with not a single strand of her mane or tail out of place. A crisp bowtie was at her neck. She was wearing her usual frown, but this was the first time it was directed at him. “You know I don’t—“ she stopped midsentence and stared up at the kites. Her eyes followed the lines of twine to the ground below. Slowly, ever so slowly, she brought a hoof up to rub her forehead. She went up to him and sat beside him.

“You know,” Octavia said, “I would have preferred you spent your night doing something else.”

Mac smiled. “I know, but you gave me two things to think about, and I ain’t smart enough to think about those two things all at once. I had to think about whether I wanted to move in before I could decide how to spend my night.”

“Is that so?” Octavia said with a chuckle. “Then have you come to a decision?”

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said. “But I don’t think I’m real ready to tell ya yet.” He shrugged, unable to explain much further than that.

Thankfully, Octavia only nodded before changing the subject. “So why did you use your cutie mark?” she asked.

“I like it,” Mac said. “Kind of a statement, I guess. Let’s all the rich ponies in Canterlot know that I’m here.”

“Charming,” Octavia said with a smile. “But you’re missing a few details. Unsurprising since I imagine you rarely look back there. I, on the other hand, have practically memorized it.” She stood up with a yawn. “I’m going to get my cello and practice up here. While I’m gone, could you please do something about the crowd that’s forming on the street.” She went back to the stairs and headed down.

Macintosh tilted his head for a moment, and went to the edge of the roof closest to the street. Octavia was right. Down below there were a crowd of ponies packed into the street. They were all bathed in the multicolored light, and they were all looking up at what he made. They looked like jellybeans from so high up.

Macintosh chuckled to himself. He didn’t mean for his little arts and crafts project to get so large, and certainly didn’t intend for it to garner so much attention, though he had to admit that the attention certainly was welcome. Unfortunately, Octavia wanted them gone, so gone they would become. Big Mac knew of one good way to do just that, but it would take him a while.

“Big Macintosh Apple! This is your work?”

Mac jerked his head up. Fancy Pants stood at the edge of the balcony, a grin on his face. Octavia was right behind him, her face scrunched as if trying to hold back a laugh. “My...it certainly is breathtaking,” Fancy Pants said as he approached Mac. The unicorn kept his head raised to look at the kites. He almost tripped on the pipes and ductwork, but caught himself before falling. In this light, his usual white coat became a whirlwind of color. “The way the colored light shines through. The way the kites flutter and dance. And the breeze! The wind rushing past my face.” Fancy Pants released a sigh tinged with laughter. He took off his monocle, and loosened his bowtie. “Surely this is what flying is like.”

“It seems you’re rather taken with Macintosh’s art,” Octavia said. She gave Mac a quick wink.

“Yes,” Fancy Pants said, sitting down. His head swayed and rocked as he followed a kite in particular. “This has touched me as all great art does. Tell me, Macintosh, what do you call this piece?”

“Aw, well, uh,” Mac stuttered and stared at his hooves. All of this? Art? They were just kites. Colored cellophane, sticks, and some string. Heck, anyone could have done this if they wanted to.

Octavia nudged him to get him out of his stupor. “Name what you created, Big Macintosh,” she whispered to him.

“Kites,” he finally said. “It’s called Kites.”

“Remarkable,” Fancy Pants said.

Mac shook his head and put on his best smile. That was enough art talk for him. He still had a job to do, after all. “Ya know, Fancy Pants,” Mac began, “I’m real flattered that you like it so much, but it’s not done yet.”

“It isn’t?” Fancy Pants and Octavia said in unison.

“Nope. I’m actually glad you’re here. It’ll make finishing this a lot faster.” Macintosh pointed at the knot tied around a bit of pipe. “See how there’s a long trail of string after the knot? You give that a quick pull and the knot’ll loosen up and release. If you use your magic you can do ‘em all at once. How about it?”

“Release them?” Fancy Pants said, leaping to a stand. “It seems such a waste to disassemble this before everypony has a chance to see it.” He looked across the roof at all the obstacles jutting out. “Throwing a gathering here would be problematic considering all this ductwork, but we could set everything on the street below. I’m positive we could gather supplies well before the wind stops. There may be additional rush charges, of course, but—“

“Like I said, it’s not finished,” Mac said. “Sure I could leave it up, but how long will the wind last? It’s best we let ‘em go while the wind’s still strong. Believe me, that’ll be the best part.”

Octavia and Fancy Pants exchanged glances, but nonetheless the glow of magic engulfed all the hundreds of strings. Mac made sure all of the knots were accounted for, and gave Fancy Pants a nod.

The kites flew away in separate directions like smoke. Some spiraled to the ground not five feet from where they started, but the others were lucky enough to catch the breeze. They climbed higher and higher until they were just specks of color against the sky. Meanwhile, there were others that neither flew to the clouds, nor fell to the ground. These kites flew low through the streets of Canterlot, fueled by the wind funneled between the buildings. They flew the fastest.

Macintosh smiled. The whole thing reminded him of the paper darts he and Twilight had let loose months ago. Maybe he should have done it all at once. It was certainly more of a spectacle that way.

"Marvelous," Fancy Pants said, getting up on all fours. He straightened his bowtie and cleared his throat. "Macintosh, I'm organizing a private party at the art museum in a week or so. It's a very small gathering, only twenty or so ponies from the visual art circles in Canterlot. You should come."

"Aw well..." Macintosh looked over at Octavia. She waved her hoof to dismiss herself from the conversation. "I guess that would be fine," he finally said.

"Wonderful," Fancy Pants said, "I'll send the invitation by post." His horn glowed and a pocket watch levitated out of his pocket and in front of his face. "I'm afraid I must be going. I hope to see both of you soon." Fancy Pants said his goodbyes and went down the stairs.

"I'll show you the way out," Octavia said. She followed behind Fancy Pants, but Macintosh stopped her with a hoof on her shoulder. She turned to him, eyebrow raised, and Macintosh coughed and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"You know I've been thinking a lot," Mac said, unable to look her in the eyes. "I, well, my family reunion is going on today. I figure I'd go sometime in the afternoon. Would you...like to come with me?"

Octavia chuckled. "Go with you to meet your extended family? No offense, Macintosh, but I'm not one to spend an evening with—" she stopped suddenly as her eyes met his, and they stared at each other for a long time. "This means a lot to you, doesn't it?" she said.

Macintosh shrugged. "If you don't want to go then I'm not gonna force you. I just figured it'd be nice if you came with me. As a date."

Octavia smiled and stepped closer to him, and Mac's cheeks became a bit redder. "As much as you try to hide it, you're very...commitment-oriented." She sighed and brought her nose close to his. "I'll go, but I want a kiss first."

Macintosh couldn't help but smile. "Sorry, but I only kiss my marefriend."

"What happened to taking things slow?"

"I don’t know. You tell me,” Mac said with a smirk. He stepped past her and went downstairs to show Fancy Pants the way out. Octavia rolled her eyes, but followed him nonetheless.

-*-

It was late in the afternoon, almost evening, by the time Macintosh and Octavia, cello case slung on her back, stepped off the train. Macintosh figured that the reunion would be winding down by now, they usually only lasted a couple of hours after sundown. He and Octavia had spent most of the day getting ready, which mostly consisted of prepping Octavia for all the idiosyncrasies of the Apple family. Bunny suits not included. She would have to find out about that one by herself.

They walked down the empty Ponyville streets, the sound of music faintly wafting through the air. The music came louder the closer to the farm they came, and Mac could soon hear the gentle strums of a guitar and the gliding notes of a fiddle. Apple trees appeared out in the distance, and there were strings of lights wound around the branches. The smell of apples filled the air as did the tart smell of various apple drinks and apple pastries. There was a hint of orange beneath all the apples. His aunt and uncle must have dropped by as well.

As they passed through the main gate and beneath the big banner above, Macintosh remembered when Applejack said most of the members coming this year were either old-timers or young colts and fillies. Still, Macintosh was quite surprised to find so many unfamiliar young ponies running around with Applebloom and Babs. At least he still recognized all his aunts and uncles.

Applejack and her friends were nowhere to be found, which was fine by Big Macintosh. The food table stood several feet away, laden with various desserts and drinks and completely barren of other ponies. Mac pointed it out to Octavia, who brightened up when she saw it. Before they could take a single step, Mac felt a wrecking ball slam against his side, knocking him to the ground. He stopped on his back, and felt hooves on his chest.

"Well if it ain't Big Maaaaaacintosh!" Braeburn yelled out with a grin. "How ya've been ya ol' snakebite?" Braeburn's yelling managed to bring in a crowd, and by the time Mac stood up and caught his breath the entire Apple family had gathered around, Applejack included. Thankfully she stayed behind, watching the whole thing unfold. "You got skinny," Braeburn said, his grin never fading.

"Still bigger than you," Mac said. To test it, Braeburn stood shoulder to shoulder. Mac was still taller. Braeburn then stood in front of him and puffed out his chest. Mac was still broader.

"Yeah a'right now let's see what happens when we put you up with Bushel. Bushel!"

"We were the same size before I got skinny, so of course he'd be bigger," Macintosh said. “Now are you gonna keep gawking at me or are you going to invite me to a drink? It’s been a while.” Mac looked back at his relatives around him, and caught eyes with Applejack. “On second thought,” he told Braeburn, “I’ll meet you in a bit. I wanna go say hi to Applejack.”

“Sure, Ah’ll pour a drink for ya,” Braeburn said. He gave Mac a nod and headed toward a table where several stallions, Mac’s cousins, were gathered, glasses of apple cider between them. The crowd dispersed as Braeburn left. Mac would be sure to greet them later.

“If he does that to me then I can’t be held responsible for what happens to his face,” Octavia said, coming up beside him.

“Don’t mind him,” Applejack said as she walked toward Mac. She reared up and gave him a hug. “Good to see ya, Mac. Where’ve you been?” She released his neck and took a step back with a smile. Mac gulped. He had expected a little anger from her after disappearing for a night. He wasn’t sure if this was a trap of some sort.

“That was my fault, I’m afraid,” Octavia said in her sweetest voice. “I was feeling a little...under the weather, and Big Macintosh was kind enough to cheer me up. The time passed right by, and I offered Macintosh my guest room for the night.”

“That was mighty kind of ya, Octavia,” Applejack said with a smile, though Mac detected something in her tone, a little pause and a lengthening of vowels, that he was sure revealed a bit of her disbelief. Mac looked over at Octavia, if she had noticed, she didn’t let on. “Well now that yer here,” Applejack continued, the incident seemingly forgotten, “how about Ah introduce ya to the family. You already met my cousin Braeburn, so yer off to a good start. Mac, why don’t you go talk with Braeburn? Ah’m sure there’s a lot you two gotta catch up on. I’ll bring Octavia around when we’re done.”

Macintosh and Octavia shared a glance between them. Mac wasn’t so sure about leaving those two alone quite yet. There was really nothing they could discuss between themselves except for one thing: him. And usually when mares started talking about him, things ended up getting a bit...complicated. But maybe he was being too self-centered. They could talk about hundreds of other things, couldn’t they? The weather, other Apples, Applejack’s friends.

“Uh, Mac? You feeling okay?”

Macintosh blinked and came back to the here and now. Applejack and Octavia were gone, and Braeburn was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Looks like Mac’s thoughts had run away with him yet again. He shook his head. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just thinking too much, I guess.”

Braeburn laughed. “No offense there, Mac, but you ain’t ever been the sort to think too much.”

Macintosh nodded, and headed to the table where his other cousins waited. Braeburn walked beside him. Every so often they had to stop in order to let a group of fillies and colts pass by as they played a game of tag or chased a firefly. Mac would stare at them as they ran off and try to place them in his memory. He could only name about half of them. They reached the table after only a few stops. Surprisingly, Dash was already seated. Mac sat down beside Braeburn and quickly greeted his cousins and friend. He gave a nod to Bushel, Apple Cinnamon, Apple Bottoms, Wensley, and Rainbow Dash.

“Hey Mac,” she said, tipping her bottle of cider toward him. She had long abandoned a simple cup, choosing instead to drink straight from the glass jug.

“Howdy Dash,” he said as he poured himself a cup. “Where’s everypony else?”

“Around,” Dash said with a shrug. “Rarity’s helping out with some quilt, and Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy are frying fritters somewhere.” She gave him a shrug, and gulped down some of her cider. Mac, having only started, just sipped at his own. He allowed the silence to percolate for a bit before speaking.

“My memory must be going,” Macintosh said. “I can’t remember half of the foals running around.”

“They’re mostly nephews and nieces,” Braeburn said. “For most of ‘em it’s their first family reunion. Heck, there’s more comin’ soon. Bushel just had his first this spring.”

Macintosh choked on his cider and coughed into his glass. Braeburn patted his back, and once the fit had ceased Macintosh looked over at his cousin. For the first time, Mac noticed that his two-tone green mane was a bit more combed than it usually was. At least the part he could see beneath the hat. “You got a foal, Bushel?”

His cousin gave him a slow nod and took a deep swig from his cup of cider. “Named him Tiller, same as gramps,” Bushel said. “Back at home with the missus.”

“Congratulations,” Mac said. It was hard for him to believe Bushel was only a year older than him. “Make sure you bring him around soon. I’d like to meet my new nephew soon as I can.”

“Why do you call them nieces and nephews?” Rainbow Dash asked as she poured herself another mug of cider. “Aren’t they technically your cousins?”

“Cousins once removed,” Mac said. “For a family as big as ours we just lump everypony into aunts and uncles. Take my Aunt Applesauce, for example. She’s technically my first cousin twice removed, but we all just call her auntie.” Macintosh looked at the little ones again, focusing on his baby sister among them. Applebloom was smiling widely and talking to her new cousins, even ordering a few around. “I bet they had fun listening to all of Applejack’s stories.”

“Ha! You should’ve seen it, Mac.” Rainbow Dash said. “Once they found out the Elements of Harmony were here, they all gathered around us wanting to hear all about our adventures and stuff. And they listened to every single word we said!” She grinned wider than Mac ever saw her grin. It made him smile as well. “They even wanted to know how we each got our cutie marks.”

“Yup, they sure had fun,” Braeburn said. “Speakin’ of stories, Mac, you gotta tell me how you met that filly you were with. She your marefriend? She’s pretty, but she looks more like the city type, what with that bowtie and all. Oh hey! Speak of the devil.” Braeburn stood up and looked at a point behind Mac. Mac turned around and saw Applejack and Octavia coming toward them, along with an entourage of friends and family. Among them were Twilight, Rarity, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie.

Mac held back a sigh and stood up along with Braeburn to face the crowd coming his way. Octavia didn’t seem too thrilled about the display, but she still went along with it. A good sign if Mac ever saw one. Applejack stopped in front of him and gave him a grin.

“It’s official,” Applejack said, “Octavia met most everypony in the family, and a few of our cousins, aunts, and uncles decided to tag along.” She then turned to Octavia. “You already sorta met Braeburn, but here’s Bushel and Apple Bottoms and Apple Cinnamon, and Wensley. Those are our cousins, and in the back there’s Rainbow Dash. You’ve probably seen her around in Canterlot sometimes.” Each of Mac’s cousins tipped their hats or raised their drinks as their names were called, but Rainbow Dash was comfortable with a simple wave.

“A pleasure to meet you all,” Octavia said. She turned around and looked over her shoulder at the crowd. “All of you,” she said. She walked past him to sit at the table, the other ponies gathering around to do the same. She poured herself a drink, and gulped it down in a few seconds. She poured herself another and began sipping. “This isn’t nearly strong enough,” she mumbled under her breath. Only Macintosh really heard her.

Meanwhile, the other friends and family started to say their greetings to Mac. What followed was a wave of comments on how skinny he had become, and several of his cousins, aunts, and uncles stood beside him to measure themselves against the new Mac, much like Braeburn had done. Macintosh took it all in stride, and took the opportunity to catch up with the rest of his family. As he did, pockets of conversation started to spring up, and the crowd of ponies shrunk as the majority of Apple family ponies went about their own business and talk. Once all was said and done, the only ponies that remained were the Elements of Harmony, Braeburn, Bushel, Aunt Applesauce, Aunt Rose, and Granny Smith. The group of ponies settled down into the table laden with drinks and apples and apple pastries. A quiet hum of conversation bubbled in the air. Somewhere along the way Bushel had brought out a deck of cards, and he busied himself with shuffling them.

“How did meeting the family go?” Macintosh whispered to Octavia.

“Your grandmother checked my teeth,” Octavia said, expressionless.

“It’s good to see you again, Macintosh,” Rarity said as she sat next to him and poured herself a drink. “Though might I ask where you were?”

“I was at Octavia’s apartment,” Mac said. “It got late so I spent the night there.”

“Oh,” Rarity said. “I see...”

“Don’t cross your legs just yet, Miss Generosity,” Octavia said with a smirk. “While he was staying with me, Macintosh was the very model of a modern gentlestallion, much to my dismay.”

Before Rarity could respond, Braeburn called out to Mac from across the table. “You really did lose a lotta muscle there, Mac” Braeburn said with a smile. “How in tarnation do you still work on the farm? Can you still pull a plow even?”

Mac knew he was only joking, but he grimaced nonetheless. “To tell you the truth, Braeburn, I’m not working on the farm anymore.”

A harsh silence dropped on the group like a pile of bricks, and now all eyes were on Macintosh. Mac swirled his cup and took a sip and looked at all the ponies around him. He refused to say anything more, and when the silence showed no sign of ending Braeburn spoke up.

“You ain’t working on the farm anymore? But yer Big Macintosh!”

“Braeburn,” Applejack said, her eyes narrowed, “it’s not a big deal.”

“Of course it’s a big deal!” Braeburn retorted. “This farm wouldn’t exist without Big Mac.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Twilight said, her cheeks turning a slight shade of red once the Apple family was focused on her. “Applejack, Granny Smith, and Applebloom work hard on the farm too.”

“No, Ah don’t mean—Haven’t any of ya heard the story?” Twilight shook her head along with a few others, including Octavia, and Braeburn slapped his forehead with his hoof. “Oh it’s a great story! We should get the foals over here to hear it too.” Braeburn got up from his seat and started trotting to the colts and fillies playing nearby. “Mac, start the story, we’ll be there in two shakes of Celestia’s tail.”

Mac rubbed his temple and watched as Braeburn gathered up the foals. He didn’t feel much like telling stories, and so he looked at the other Apples for a replacement. “Bushel, why don’t you tell the story. You’re better at that sort of thing,” Mac said. Bushel’s eyes widened for a split second, but he gave Mac a nod anyway. He lowered his hat over his eyes and looked down to focus on shuffling cards. He started the story just as Braeburn returned with the little ones, the older pony whispering at them to explain what was going on.

“There’s a few things you gotta understand before Ah tell ya this story,” Bushel began. “Used to be that a pony that married into the Apple family didn’t take charge of a farm. That all changed when Mac’s grandpa came around. Used to be that a mare didn’t take on work out in the fields. That all changed when Mac’s mom came around. Used to be that a family didn’t own the land they worked. The land was owned by the eldest Apple in the entire family, who made sure everything was being done properly. That all changed when Mac came around.” Bushel stopped shuffling cards and took his cup instead. He took a long sip before he continued.

“Ah remember back then, it was the first family reunion Ah ever went to. The first family reunion held at Sweet Apple Acres since...” Bushel trailed off and tipped his hat so that he and Mac could meet eyes. Mac nodded, and Bushel kept going. “Since Mac and AJ and Applebloom’s parents died.”

-*-

Little Macintosh ran through the maze of trees with a black eye covering his face. He dodged in and out of curled and raised roots. Applejack ran beside him, a smile on her face. They ran for as long as they possibly could and even a little more after that. They only stopped when Macintosh noticed there was no one giving chase. He stopped and peered past the tree trunks. Had the other two really fallen so far behind? Applejack took a little longer to realize what was happening, and after she stopped she backtracked to stand beside her big brother. She, as well, tilted back and forth and propped herself on the very edge of her hooves to see past the trees.

"Where the heck did Braeburn and Bushel go?" Mac vocalized what was on both their minds. Applejack only shrugged, and the pair retraced their steps to look for the missing ponies. After walking past about a dozen or so trees they finally found their cousins, only about a couple of yards away from where the game had started. The two earth ponies were too busy gawking at the trees around them to notice Macintosh and Applejack come up to them. Macintosh nudged Braeburn's side, only then did Braeburn pay any attention.

"What's the matter with you?" Macintosh asked. "Don't they play tag where you come from?"

"Yeah," Braeburn said, "but your trees. They're all dead."

Macintosh looked back at the line of trees, bark dark and dry and branches that looked like cracks across the sky with not a leaf on any of them. "Yeah so? They're just trees."

"But, yer Apples, right? Can Apples even be Apples without an apple farm?" Busel asked.

Applejack gave her brother an inquiring look. She wanted to know as well. "Apple is just a name, dummy," Mac said, spitting into the dirt. "Don't mean every Apple is an apple farmer."

"Isn't that a bad thing, though?" Braeburn asked.

"The only bad thing that's come from it is you two asking a bunch of stupid questions. You gonna play tag or not?"

“Applejack, Little Macintosh,” a voice called out. The four foals looked over at Granny Smith coming toward them. “C’mon now, it’s time for ya to meet the rest of the family.”

Mac snorted, but followed Granny Smith, Applejack, Bushel, and Braeburn back toward the homestead where most of the family were spending their time during the reunion. Mac had thought he had met the entirety of the Apple clan at all the past family reunions, but that wasn’t the case. Turns out there were several dozen more, and they all decided to come to this reunion. Mac had no idea why.

“Ain’t it great, Mac?” Applejack asked as she slowed down beside him. “Ah never knew we had a really big family.”

Mac spat on the ground and glared ahead at the huge group of ponies coming into view. He said nothing.

Little Macintosh stood at the edge of the group of fillies and colts while Applejack met every single one of her cousins. They shared stories about their home and school lives and chattered away. The conversation was light and carefree and punctuated by smiles and laughter. Mac didn’t give much interest, he was too preoccupied glaring at the front of the barn where the adults were in their own group, talking in obvious whispers as if scared one of the little ones might hear. He knew those whispers, he knew those quick sideways glances in his direction. They were deciding something.

“Hey, Mac, what’re ya lookin’ at?” Braeburn said as he came up to stand beside him. He gave a quick look to the adults but didn’t seem to understand.

“Just wonderin’ what the heck they’re saying,” Mac said.

“Oh that? They’re probably talkin’ about how my grandpa’s gonna take this farm and sell the land to pay off the debt on—” Braeburn covered his mouth before he could finish. “Oh no, I wasn’t supposed to say anything!” he cried. “My parents are gonna ground me for sure.”

Little Macintosh shook his head with a roll of his eyes, but before he could say anything Applejack quickly piped in. “They’re gonna sell the farm?” she asked, her eyes starting to water. “They can’t do that. This is where we live. This is our home.”

“Will ya quit yer cryin’,” Mac said. “It’s just a farm.”

“Just a farm?” Bushel chimed in. “But it’s your farm, ain’t it? Ah mean, yer the oldest stallion and all. You sayin’ you don’t even care if Uncle Moonshine gets rid of it.”

“Like Ah said, Bushel” Mac said with a scowl. “It’s just a farm. It’s just some dirt and some trees. Y’all might be fine with spending the rest of your life growing apples, but Ah’m not.”

“But,” Applejack said, “what about our home?”

“Home ain’t where you are, it’s who you’re with,” Mac said. “So long as me, you, Granny Smith, and Applebloom are together what’s it matter where we end up?” As he finished speaking, Mac saw movement at the corner of his eye and realized the Braeburn was hanging his head as if he had done something wrong. “Braeburn?” Mac said, his eyes narrowing.

Braeburn shook his head. “Nuh-uh, if Ah say anymore my grandpa’s gonna make me work ‘til—”

“Braeburn!”

The colt flinched at his name and wouldn’t meet Mac’s glare, but he talked anyway. “G-grandpa was sayin’ how there’s only room on our farm for one, so he’s gonna put ya to work while the rest of yer family stays with some other relatives.”

Mac didn’t need to hear anymore. Without another word he left the homestead porch and headed for the group of adults. Curious, the other colts and fillies followed slightly behind him. They whispered quietly to themselves, speculating on what was going to happen next.

The children and adults both stopped their whispers as the two groups merged. Mac looked over the assemblage in order to look for Moonshine Apple. He finally saw him beside Granny Smith, toward the center of the cluster of ponies. The old stallion was a spitting image of Braeburn, but bigger and tougher with a lot more wrinkles. Technically, Moonshine was Mac’s third cousin, or cousin twice removed. In the Apple family, however, he was simply known as Old Uncle Moonshine. The only ponies that didn’t call him that were his children and grandchildren. Mac approached and passed by his aunt and uncle Orange, Aunt Applesauce, Aunt Rose, and a dozen other aunts and uncles Mac only mildly knew. Moonshine set his emerald eyes on the colt.

“You look like ya got somethin’ to say to me, boy,” he said when Mac stopped in front of him. “You best say it.”

“Get off my farm.”

-*-

“Big words for a small colt I would imagine,” Octavia said as she poured herself a stiff glass of cider.

“Mac’s words always been bigger than ‘im,” Granny Smith said with a laugh, almost a cackle. “Ya shoulda seen the look on ol’ Moonshine’s face, looked like he just got bit by a skunk. Ain’t nopony ever talk to him like that, except maybe Mac’s grandpappy.” Granny Smith rubbed her chin. “The two of ‘em look almost exactly the same now that Ah think about it.” Granny Smith tilted her head from side to side, humming in thought all the while. “Now y’all wait here a moment while I go fetch some memories.” The old mare stood up and walked back to the farmhouse, and the others watched her go in silence.

“I don’t get it,” Applebloom said, “what was so special about Uncle Moonshine?”

“He was an elder, an’ ya gotta respect yer elders, don’t you know that?” Braeburn said with a teasing smile to the little filly. “My grandpa Moonshine was the last of the old stallions of that generation. Along with Mac’s grandpa and Bushel’s grandpa, those three ran everything.”

“An’ they ran a tight ship!” Aunt Applesauce added in with a hoot. “Oh y’all shoulda seen it. They had every stallion in the family up before dawn, working their farms for a whole day or more. Oh if only they had colts instead of fillies, things would’ve turned out a lot different, Ah tell ya.” She nodded her head, and looked over at Bushel. “You gonna do the same with little Tiller? Wouldn’t be right to have yer granddad’s name on a soft colt.”

“Tiller’ll do what he wants,” Bushel said, taking a drink. “Ah’ll make sure of it.”

Aunt Applesauce shook her head with a click of her tongue. “Ah swear, there are less and less Apples takin’ care of farms with each generation. Soon enough we’re gonna have a bunch of landowners that hire on other ponies to do the work for ‘em. Then where’ll we be? Fat and lazy do-nothings with too much money.” She waved a hoof at Braeburn to catch his attention. “What about you, Brae? You gonna work yer foal when you finally get around to gettin’ one?”

“Aw well, uh,” Braeburn stuttered, almost speechless for once. “Well, heck, Ah’d sure hope he, or she, would like bein’ an apple farmer, but Ah ain’t gonna force the kid.”

“Can’t say Ah’m surprised,” Aunt Apple Rose said with a sigh. The old mare fidgeted with her pink mane before continuing. “Ain’t like Bushel and Braeburn and Mac were asked to be apple farmers.” Apple Rose took off her glasses in order to rub her old eyes with a hoof.

“Ah’m glad we only had fillies,” Granny Smith said as she joined everyone back at the table. She dropped a heavy book on the table, rattling the cups and plates of food. She opened it up and flipped through the pages, and Mac saw the various photos inside. A curious smile crossed Granny’s lips as she stared, glassy eyed, at those old photos. “Ah don’t even wanna think about what hardship Cedar, Tiller, and Moonshine would’ve put ‘em through. But they loved their daughters more than anything. Cedar sure did. It’s a shame he died when she was just a filly. Here ya go. Take a gander at this picture.”

She twirled the book around and allowed it to lay flat on the table. Everyone surrounding the table leaned in to have a better look. The young ones practically climbed onto the table to get their view. The picture Granny Smith pointed to was a black and white photo, it’s sides worn and tearing. It was of three stallion, each of them giving the camera a tired frown. They stood in front of a row of trees laden with apples, ready to be picked.

“Hey it’s Mac,” Dash said. “Wow, Mac, you must’ve been having a really bad day. You look like you’re about to buck some poor pony. And there’s Braeburn and Bushel.”

“That ain’t Mac,” Applejack said. “That’s our grandpa Cedar, and that’s Uncle Tiller, Bushel’s grandpa, and Uncle Moonshine, Braeburn’s grandpa.”

“My it’s quite a startling resemblance,” Rarity said. “Was Cedar by any chance the same shade of red?”

“Sure was, but y’all should see this.” Granny Smith said. She reached over to the book and flipped forward a couple of pages, and stopped at a color photo of an adult mare, tall and slender, with a red coat, orange mane and tail, and bright green eyes. She wore a harness around her neck and smiled warmly at some distant point outside the four sides of the photo.

“What happened?” Rainbow Dash asked. “Did Mac run into some Poison Joke or something.”

“No, that’s mom,” Applejack said.

“She’s so pretty,” Fluttershy said quietly.

“And taaaall,” Pinkie Pie added.

“Oh but she was even stronger,” Granny Smith said with a proud smile. “She could go hoof to hoof with any of her cousins, whether it was bucking apples offa trees or pulling a plow through a field.”

Applebloom didn’t say anything, but brought the photo album toward her and took a long hard look at the photo. She placed a small hoof on the glossy surface. “What was mom like?” she asked, and everyone fell into silence. Even Granny Smith didn’t know exactly what to say. It was difficult for Mac as well. He had several memories of his mother, perhaps more than Applejack, yet none of them quite captured the entirety of his mother. How could they? How could any fading memory perfectly capture any pony?

“Bushel,” Mac finally said. “Have I ever told you the story of how I got that black eye?”

“Don’t recall so,” Bushel said. “You tellin’ it now?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said. He fiddled with his glass, rolling it between his hooves. “It happened at school. One of my classmates pulled the fire alarm as a joke, I guess. He blamed me for it, and seeing as how nopony thought I was too bright and seeing as how I was seen as a troublemaker, well, everypony believed him. I got in trouble for it. I confronted him about it the next day. We yelled, I pushed, he bucked me in the face and I...”

“I bet you sent him to the hospital,” Dash said with a grin. “Right?”

“If it had happened a year before then I probably would have,” Mac said, looking at his empty glass, “it wouldn’t have been the first colt I ever sent to the infirmary. The last time it happened mom was pretty angry at me.” Mac allowed just the hint of a smile to cross his face, but it vanished almost immediately. “I remember it really clear.”

-*-

Little Macintosh walked home with a black eye and his mouth carved into a scowl. He kept his head low as he walked down Ponyville’s main street. Only a few stragglers could be found at this time of day, most ponies already home from school or work. The few ponies that walked down the street politely got out of his path. Once out of Ponyville the walk was a solitary one, and he enjoyed it that way.

The low rumble of metal digging into dirt filled the air and shook the ground beneath Mac’s hooves. He followed through the apple trees to the farmstead to a field just a few yards from the front door. A red mare dragged a rusted plow across the hard ground without any outward effort showing. She walked, and the plow and dirt seemed like an afterthought. Macintosh used his hoof to make a groove in the ground. He approached his mother only after taking a deep breath to prepare himself.

He kept his head down. When he was feeling so small, he couldn’t bare to look up at her. Granny Smith had told him about her meeting with Princess Celestia. She always commented on how tall the princess was, taller than his mother even. Mac never believed her. No one could be as tall as her. His mother was even taller than his dad, and everyone looked up to meet his eyes.

“What’s wrong, Little Macintosh. Why are you home so late?” she said. She unhitched herself from the plow, and adjusted the harness around her neck.

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he shrugged off his backpack, opened it, and pulled out a piece of paper from inside. He dropped it to the ground and pushed it toward his mother, and she looked over the numbers covering its surface.

“An F?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at the test. “All these answers are right. How did you get an F?”

“Ah didn’t show my work,” Mac said, rubbing his eyes with a foreleg, “so the teacher figured Ah cheated and failed me. Ah asked him if there were any other fillies and colts that got ‘em all right. He just got mad and gave me detention. That’s why Ah’m late.”

“Now why would your teacher do a thing like that? I’m sure if you just go to him tomorrow and explain he’ll—”

“He won’t do a thing!” Mac shouted with a shake of his head. “He thinks Ah’m dumb. Everpony at that school thinks Ah’m dumb.” He stomped his hooves and whipped up a cloud of dust. It was the only thing he could do with his anger. “And because they think Ah’m dumb they think Ah’m bad. So whenever something bad happens everypony blames me. When Sunny pushed me and Ah pushed back, Ah’m the one that got blamed for the fight. Whenever Ah get the right answer they think Ah cheated, and whenever Ah get the wrong answer they call me ‘stupid’.” He gritted his teeth and turned to the direction he came from—the direction of the school—and yelled at the top of his lungs. “Oh yeah, well, Ah hope they skip to their parents and say ‘Ah’m smart, Ah’m smart, Ah’m smart’, and they go through their lives readin’ books an’ talkin’ nonsense. ‘Cause when they die the world’s gonna forget all about ‘em, and when Ah die the world’s gonna remember me, and it ain’t gonna be because Ah was dumb.”

For several minutes the only sound came from Mac’s winded breathing. He fell to his stomach, disturbing more dirt and picking up more dust, and stared off into nowhere.

His mother rubbed his back softly. “You want them to hurt.”

“Yeah,” Mac said. “Ah want them to hurt. Ah want them to hurt as much as they hurt me.”

She rested beside him, and wrapped her foreleg around him in a hug. “Little Macintosh,” she whispered, “That’s no way to live a life. You keep holding on to that grudge, holding on to all that hurt, it’s just going to eat you from the inside out.”

“So what do Ah do?” Mac asked, leaning on his mother.

“Forgive them.”

“Ah can’t do that!” Mac said, standing up and taking a couple of steps away from his mother. “Why should I? They don’t deserve it.”

“You’re not forgiving them for their sake,” she said, unmoving, “you’re forgiving them for your sake. In your life there’ll be ponies that hurt you. Some on purpose, some on accident, and some while trying to help you. That’s never going to change. If you hold on to every single wrong they’ve done you, then you’re never going to move forward.”

Mac stared at the ground, thinking, but ultimately shook his head with a sigh. “Ah don’t think Ah can.”

“I know, Little Macintosh,” she said. “It’s a hard thing to do. It’s probably the hardest thing you’ll ever do. It might even be impossible.” She gestured for him to reclaim his spot beside her, and he did so. “But try. Always try.”

Mac rubbed his eyes. “Ah guess Ah will.”

“Good,” she said. “And Macintosh?”

“Uh-huh?”

“One day, you’ll learn that the hardest pony to forgive is yourself.”

Little Macintosh didn’t quite understand what she meant, but before he could really think about it, the sound of running hoofsteps and a small voice interrupted him.

“Hey, big brother!” Applejack said as she climbed between the two, which effectively meant that she was on top of both of them. “Why’d you come in so late?” she asked Mac.

“Oh, well,” Mac said, quickly coming up with an excuse, “Ah was playin’ tag with all my friends at the park.”

“Again?” Applejack asked. “You sure play with them a lot!”

Macintosh forced himself to chuckle. “Eeyup.”

-*-

"I really tried to forgive and let go,” Mac said. “So I ran that day of the family reunion, instead of getting into another fight. When I was a colt I really thought that was what I was doing, but looking back I think I was still bottling up all that anger. I guess I stink at taking advice from other ponies.” Mac chuckled softly, and poured himself another drink as he avoided eye contact with the ponies at the table. “Anyway, I don’t know if that really answered your question, Applebloom.” Mac smiled at his baby sister, but she went back to staring at the photo.

“She sounds like she was a very wise pony,” Twilight said.

“She knew the ways ponies felt,” Granny Smith said. “She knew what they needed to hear just by lookin’ at ‘em. I remember times when Applejack and Big Macintosh would get into terrible fights against each other. She’d never pick a side, but explain to each of them what the other was feelin’. That was enough for ‘em to work somethin’ out.”

Macintosh looked over at his cousin. “Why don’t you go on with the story, Bushel.”

Bushel nodded without hesitation and cleared his throat to continue. “Ah remember Granny Smith was none too happy about how Mac was talking to his elder, and after getting over the shock of some little colt talkin’ to ‘im like that, Moonshine seemed a bit more...fired up Ah think.”

-*-

“Little Macintosh Apple,” Granny Smith said, “now Ah know we taught ya better manners than that!”

Moonshine chuckled, his eyes almost glinting. “It ain’t yer farm, little one. If ya can even call it that anymore. Gotta admit, though, Ah like yer nerve.”

“Yeah?” Mac spat. “Well Ah don’t like how some stranger’s comin’ in and tellin’ us what to do with our farm.”

“Ah ain’t no stranger,” Moonshine said with a scowl, “Ah’m yer—”

“Uncle, yeah, that’s what Ah hear. That’s what Ah hear about all of ya,” Mac’s voice became louder as he circled around to look at all the members of the Apple clan surrounding him. “Ah hear that yer my aunts and uncles and cousins. All Ah know is that Granny Smith says yer family, and if that’s true then some family you turned out to be. Didn’t even come to my mom’s funeral.”

Moonshine Apple was visibly taken aback by Mac’s words, but his shock was soon overcome with anger. His eyes narrowed at the small colt, and he took a few steps toward him to make the difference in size very clear. “Yer mom died at the height of Applebucking Season. We all had farms—”

“Oh sorry,” Mac growled, “Ah didn’t realize that you cared more about some fruit than yer own kin. None of ya have done a damn thing for me or my sisters or Granny Smith, now yer comin’ in and taking away the only thing we got left? No, that ain’t how it works. This is our farm, and we decide what’s gonna happen to it.”

“Ah figure Braeburn spilled the beans,” Moonshine said with a slight smile, but it soon turned back into a hard frown. “You got some pretty words, boy, but the time to say ‘em was a year ago when yer parents died. Here’s how it works. If yer gonna own something you gotta take responsibility for it. You think you can neglect the farm, let yer harvest rot on the ground, and then say it’s yours soon as another pony takes it? No, boy, this ain’t yer farm. This is the Apple clan’s farm, and now Ah gotta do what’s best for all of us. That means sellin’ the land for what it’s worth and usin’ the money to pay off what debt it can.”

Macintosh gritted his teeth. As much as he hated to admit it, the old stallion was right. “And what about us?” he asked, unable to offer a rebuttal.

“You’re family,” Moonshine said, his expression softening a bit, “and family takes care of each other. Granny Smith and yer sisters are gonna stay with Aunt and Uncle Orange for a spell. Just until we find a permanent home for ‘em to stay.”

“And me?”

“Hate to say it, but this land ain’t worth what yer family’s got into it. Ah’ll pay the difference, but yer gonna work on my farm ‘til you pay me back.”

“What?” Mac snarled. “So Ah don’t get the land, but Ah get the debt? That’s what ‘takin’ care of family’ means to you?”

“Ah’m teachin’ ya a valuable lesson about the Apple family,” Moonshine said, turning and stepping away from the colt. “An Apple always pays back his debts.”

Macintosh shook his head, trying his hardest to think of something, anything, to get him out of this. He refused to resign himself to indentured servitude for a debt he didn’t create. He refused to work on a farm for the benefit of a stranger. If he knew it would come to this, he would have worked to care for the farm before it became barren. At least then he would be working for his family. Like a spark, an idea came to him. “Yeah? Well Ah know somethin’ else about the Apple family. They can’t resist a bet. So Ah bet Ah can make this farm grow again.”

Moonshine Apple stopped in his tracks and didn’t move for a few long seconds. Then he began to chuckle, softly at first but soon louder and louder. He faced the little colt again and shook his head. “This farm is dead. There’s nothin’ you can do now but plant new trees, and you ain’t got the money. Give it up, boy.”

“If it’s dead, then you got nothin’ to worry about. Ah bet Ah can make this farm grow again. If Ah lose, then Ah’ll work on yer farm until Ah’ve paid back triple what you used on the debt. But if Ah win, then not only do Ah keep the farm, but you gotta pay me triple the debt.”

Moonshine’s smile turned into a grin, and the glint in his eye returned. “Alright, you got a bet, boy. Ah’ll even go easy on ya. At the end of the day Ah’ll be taking Granny Smith, Applejack, and Applebloom to yer Aunt and Uncle Orange’s place in Manehattan. We’ll be stayin’ there for a month. You got that one month to make something, anything, grow on this land. Deal?”

“Deal,” Mac said, gritting this teeth. “And when Ah win this bet, Ah swear Ah’m gonna take yer money, sell this farm, and get as far away from this joke of a family as Ah can get.” He turned to hide his face and watering eyes and ran off with much to do and precious little time to do it in.

-*-

“Ya’ll can probably guess who won the bet,” Bushel said. The stallion tilted up his hat and squinted up at the reddened sky. His gaze lowered to the barn not too far away. The same one that nearly the entire Apple family helped build and raise. There were now brown little specks where the paint had started to peel. “Ah remember Little Mac foraging through all that junk in the old barn until he found an’ ol’ plow blade. He used a few rocks and his hoof to shape it into a cup, you remember that, Mac?” Bushel asked.

“Eeyup,” Mac said. “The faucets were rusted shut, so I had to use it to bring water from a pond about a third of a mile away. Held just the right amount of water. Not too heavy, not too light.”

“The family left that night like we always do,” Braeburn said. He brought the edge of his hoof on the brim of his cup, and tipped it over. Breaburn chuckled. “Y’all shoulda seen Mac a month later when we came back, an’ boy do Ah mean we. Word got around about the bet and the whole family came to see if Mac managed to grow anything.”

“There was a rainstorm the previous night, and Macintosh was on the ground, covered mane to hoof in mud,” Applejack said. “Right above him was a green apple, so heavy it bent the branch it was on. Big Mac was up by the time me, Granny Smith, Applebloom, and Moonshine came up to him. He stared Moonshine square in the eye an’ said ‘Get off my farm.’”

Big Macintosh poured himself another drink, the slosh of liquid echoed throughout the silent farm. The bottle ran out when his cup was only half full, but he held it up to allow the last few drops to fall away from the lip. Satisfied, Mac slid the bottle back toward the center of the table, lifted his glass, and drank from his glass with slow gulps. He didn’t lower his cup until it was empty again. He brought down his glass with a calm thud, and looked at his family and friends gathered around the table. He tried to avoid all the eyes trained on him. Twilight’s look was perhaps the worst, as if she was reading a book with some unintelligible cyphers she was attempted to decode. Though he supposed that Fluttershy’s hurt-puppy gaze was a more sorry sight.

“So what happened during the month?” Fluttershy asked.

“Ah don’t rightly know,” Bushel said. He slipped a hoof beneath his hat to scratch behind his ear. “Mac hasn’t told anypony about that, far as Ah know.”

“It ain’t much of a story,” Mac said, pouring himself another glass. “Walked back and forth between the pond and the orchard over and over again. Hardly slept, and ate oats when I felt hungry.” That was, of course, a mostly accurate description of what happened. However, there was one incident during the final day that Mac didn’t feel like going into, especially not in front of such a large crowd of ponies, even if they were his family and friends. And so it remained unmentioned.

“Macintosh,” Twilight began, “I had no idea—“

“You couldn’t,” Macintosh interrupted, “very few ponies outside the family know this story. So I hope you appreciate listening to it now.”

“But it must have been difficult for you,” Twilight said.

“Course it was difficult, it’s life. No reason to pay any special attention to mine,” Mac said. He retrieved another bottle and poured himself more cider, and Octavia held out her glass for him to refill. He did so.

“Ya have to understand,” Aunt Applesauce said. “Times were a lot harder back then. Settling down and startin’ a farm is one thing, keepin’ that farm goin’ is another. Every Apple was strugglin’ to stay afloat. Cedar, Tiller, and Moonshine knew well enough that the only way the entire Apple family was gonna survive was if they all did what was best for the entire family. If that meant sellin’ off dead land then...”

“There’s no point in justifying it now,” Octavia said. Her voice was sweet but her glare was not, and given old Applesauce’s poor vision, the old mare paid mind to one but not the other. Everypony else, at least those with better vision, made sure to look away in case Octavia focused her eyes upon them. It caused a heavy silence, and Mac felt himself quite enjoying her ability to make so many ponies uncomfortable at the same time. But he knew it couldn’t last, and so he was the first to break the quiet that had enveloped the farm like a fine mist.

Mac’s eyes fell on the foals, including his little sister, that had listened to the story intently. They were exempt from the weight of the story, having the substance of any old fairy tale for them. Now that it was over, however, the younger ones grew restless.

“Why don’t you foals get back to your play,” Mac said. “No reason for ya to listen to us old ponies reminisce about the old times.” They happily obliged, and ran off to capture firefly’s and other small quarry. The older ponies watched them go, their world-weary regard lingering for a length proportional to their age.

Only Applebloom was hesitant to go, mostly because she still held the photo album in her hooves. No doubt she had more questions. Why wouldn’t she? Mac certainly didn’t provide any real answers. Eventually she nodded to her older brother, closed the album, and placed it back on the table. Mac brought the old book toward him, resolving to bring it back to the farmstead to indulge in a little nostalgia later.

“Remind me never to make a bet with you, Macintosh,” Octavia said with a chuckle. “I am honestly surprised that you didn’t go through with your plan of selling this place, all things considered. Did you change your mind because you thought it would be a wise investment?” She sipped from her own glass.

“You already know why, I take it,” Mac told her. “But I’ll tell you the whole story anyway, if no one minds.” Macintosh looked at the ponies still sitting around the table. Not one of them shook their head or gave any other sign that they were tired of stories about him, so Macintosh continued. “It was the same day that Moonshine and the rest of the family came to check how I did. It was a pretty important day, now that I think about it. It was the day I won this farm and the day I got my cutie mark.”

-*-

The Apple family had all left a while ago, right after Mac and Moonshine had discussed the terms of payment. Moonshine would pay off the debt straight off, but the rest would be paid directly to Mac in installments, and Mac had given the very first chunk of bits to Granny Smith to buy some decent food. After congratulating Mac for his win, Granny Smith and Applejack headed inside the farmstead to make a grocery list. Mac stayed outside, still covered in mud now drying and caking onto his coat, and stared up at the green apple he had grown.

It wasn’t enough that he had the farm and Moonshine’s money. Not even close. If he were to derive any sort of joy from this ordeal, it would be by eating that apple. It would prove once and for all that he had triumphed over not only his so-called family but the farm as well.

Little Macintosh turned his back to the tree, and with a quick buck kicked the trunk with both back hooves. The tree didn’t so much as shiver. With a growl, Mac tried again and again, but he always had the same result. Nothing. With one final yell of frustration, Mac turned and bashed his head into the trunk. It did the trick, and the apple fell on his back and bounced to the ground. With a smile, Mac held its stem between his teeth and trotted back to the farmstead.

First, he was gonna slice it up into little pieces, then he was gonna eat each one of them slowly to really savor the taste, and then he would do everything in his power to stomach down the core, stems and seeds and all. That’s what he would do. He’d eat the whole damn thing, the last apple he’d ever eat for the rest of his life. He’d go through life eating other fruits for a change. Maybe bananas.

He entered the kitchen where Granny Smith was looking through all the empty cupboards, cabinets, and drawers. Every so often she would tell Applejack to jot down some food or ingredient, and the little filly would eagerly write it down in her messy, barely legible scrawls. Applebloom was currently toddling around the floor, looking for something to chew on in order to soothe her teething gums.

Macintosh didn’t bother them. He placed the apple on the table and started looking through the utensil drawer for a knife as big as his resolve. He didn’t find one, so instead he grabbed the biggest knife they had, a large chef knife kept nice and sharp. He grabbed the handle in his teeth and placed it beside the apple.

“Wow it’s huge!” Applejack said as she examined the apple. “Ah bet it’s gonna be delicious.”

“You’d win that bet, and Ah’m gonna enjoy every single bite,” Mac said with a smile. He raised the knife and slowly brought it down so the point touched the stem, the very edge of the knife ready to cut the skin and the fruit beneath. A low growling sound stopped him. He looked over at Applejack, hunched over with her forelegs crossed over her stomach.

“You hungry, sugarcube?” he asked.

“She hardly ate when we were at the Oranges’ place,” Granny Smith said. “She was worried sick about ya.”

Macintosh lifted the knife away from the apple, and looked at his little sister. He pushed the apple toward her. “Here. You have it,” Mac said.

“Ah can’t,” Applejack said as she pushed the apple back. “It’s your apple.”

“Ah’ll just buy another one.”

“No!” Applejack said. “You grew it, so you should eat it.”

Macintosh rolled his eyes and took the apple. “Would you at least eat half of it? Ah wanna give you half of it.” He looked at his sister and she looked at him. Slowly, she nodded her head, and Mac cut the damn apple in half with a smile on his face. He pushed Applejack’s half toward her, and she finally took it. She bit into it and had it finished in just four bites, seeds and all. When she was done, Mac slid his half toward her as well. “Here, now eat this half.”

“Ah said no, big brother!” she said, glaring at him. “It’s yer apple that you grew, it’s special, and you should have some of it.”

Mac shook his head, utterly exasperated. He was ready to say anything just to get her to eat “Look, just eat it. One day this farm’ll have more apples than we can count, when that day comes then you’ll pay me back with an apple that you grew. Deal?”

Applejack looked at the apple, and her stomach growled again. “Deal.” She ate the rest. Satisfied, Mac stepped away from the table and headed out.

“Where you going, Mac?” Granny Smith asked.

“Ah got some work to do,” he said. He went out the front door and stood on the porch for a minute. He looked out at the barren apple farm and shook his head at his sister’s ridiculousness. So what if the apple was one he grew? That didn’t matter at all. Not one bit.

Right?

If he were to be truly honest with himself, he had to admit that giving Applejack an apple that grew with his hard work felt a lot better than giving her just any old apple. He wondered if this is how his parents felt whenever he and Applejack would eat the apples they had grown. It was a nice feeling, a warm feeling. One that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Macintosh walked off the porch and went to the barn where the family kept all the old junk and doodads. He opened both doors wide, letting the summer sun bathe the interior with light. The plow shined in the middle of the hay-littered room, it’s blade glinting in the dusty sunbeams.

The past month had been hell, but seeing Applejack eat the apple that came from it made it all worth it in the end. Macintosh didn’t think bringing this farm back to life would be any easier in the coming months, perhaps years, but if it was for his family, then it would be worth it.

Maybe this stupid old farm was worth keeping after all.

A flash of light filled the room and Mac felt a tingling at his backside. When he looked at his flank he saw a big green half-apple covering most of it. Little Macintosh rolled his eyes. Well, at least it was official now. He went over to a tool cabinet and grabbed an old carving knife his dad kept. In the back corner of the barn, he retrieved a block of wood left over when the barn was first built. He looked up and saw his mom’s harness hanging on a nail on the wall. He got to carving.

-*-

“It was tough going at first,” Macintosh said as he looked at the setting sun. “Ain’t easy to replant and regrow an entire orchard, but Moonshine’s money was more than enough to do it. I just had to do all the work. As time went on I really started to enjoy farming. It gave me plenty of time to think, and there was a sort of peace that came along with all the work. It made me happy, and soon I was working the farm for myself as much as my family.”

The world was silent for a few moments, and Big Macintosh enjoyed it. Nothing but the distant buzz of cicadas could be heard for a long while. A couple of whippoorwills called to each other amidst the trees. It really was an idyllic night, the kind he would sorely miss.

“Hey Mac,” Applejack said, knocking Mac out of his thoughts for a moment. His little sister grabbed a red apple from the basket in the middle of the table and balanced it on her hoof. She rolled it toward him. He stopped it and stared at it for a moment before looking back at her. “We made a deal, right?” she said with a smile. “’Bout time Ah pay it up. Fresh picked this morning.”

Macintosh smiled. He took the apple and split it in half with his hooves. “Hope you don’t mind if I share it,” he said. “It just came to mind that Octavia never had an apple straight from the farm unless it was in a pie.” He gave one half to Octavia. She held it and stared at it before staring at the gathered ponies at the table. She shrugged and bit into it. She smiled as soon as she had a taste. “Y’all better have some too,” he told the others. “Applejack worked real hard to grow these. It’d be a shame if ya didn’t have at least one.”

“Good idea,” Pinkie Pie said with a smile. “Let me at ‘em!” She grabbed a couple of apples and bit into them eagerly. The others followed her lead, though understandably with a bit less gusto. They all ate with few words between them, only a few compliments to how delicious they were. Mac ate his own half slowly, savoring every bite. When he was done, he had eaten it completely, stem and all. Everyone else finished soon after, and after allowing his thoughts to percolate, Mac broke the silence.

“Family’s a weird thing, ain’t it?” Mac said. He looked around the table, stopping whenever he saw an Element of Harmony. “Sometimes a pony can sort of adopt a close friend as family. And Apples, well, we’re all part of the same family, and I love all of you like family, but...that love ain’t equal, is it.”

“Suppose not,” Bushel said. “No offense to ya, Mac, but if it was between my son and you. Ah gotta choose my son.”

“I wouldn’t begrudge ya the choice,” Big Macintosh said. “Ah’d probably make the same choice if it was between you and Applebloom.” He sipped his drink, and watched as the sun finally set below the horizon. The last bits of red and orange and gold disappeared from the sky, and one by one, the stars started to peek through the ink of the night sky. “What makes you and your son closer than you and me, Bushel, and what makes me and Applebloom closer than you and me? Is it ‘cause the relationship is closer, or is it ‘cause you’re literally close, distance-wise.”

“What’s with all this family talk all of a sudden, Mac?” Applejack asked, leaning forward and narrowing her eyes.

Macintosh looked down at his half-filled glass, and then pushed it aside. He was suddenly aware of the little insignificant things around him. There was an ant crawling through a furrow in the grain of a wood board of the table. The sharp and dried points of grass poked his backside like a dozen needles. The night and the breeze gave him chills, but Octavia felt warm as her shoulder touched his. He wanted to hear her play her cello.

“I’m moving out,” Macintosh said. He focused on Applejack, but her only reaction was to exhale slowly and laugh.

“That’s all?” she asked. “You had me worried, Mac. Ah thought you were turning into an old, leathery stallion right before my eyes.” She gave him a smile and stood up. She rolled her shoulders and leaned her head side to side, and small pops and cracks sounded out as the tension left her joints. “It’s getting pretty late,” she said. “Why don’t y’all say yer goodbye’s,” she said to the few family members that remained. “Then Ah’ll walk y’all to the train station.” Everyone stood up for the goodbyes and the air filled up with the mumbles of farewells.

“It was good to see ya, Mac,” Braeburn said with a grin. He was the last cousin Mac was saying goodbye to. “Ya should drop by Appleoosa sometime. It’s really grown since yer sister and her pals helped me out.” After a quick hug, Braeburn tapped the ground to find more words to say. “You should’ve heard gramps after you kicked him off the farm,” he said. “’Ol’ Cedar woulda been proud.’ That’s what he said.”

“I wish I could’ve made amends with him,” Macintosh said.

“Don’t worry too much about it,” Braeburn said. He punched Mac’s shoulder. “He didn’t hold a grudge or anything. Ah know this farm is gonna miss ya. Just try to stay outta trouble, ya hear?” Braeburn gave him a grin, Mac smiled, and they parted ways with one last goodbye between them.

He watched the last of the relatives go, following Applejack to the train station. Talking and laughing as they took the path to Ponyville. Macintosh sighed quietly as he watched them go, and then sat back down at the table. He poured himself another drink. Octavia was right, it would have been better if there was something a bit stronger to drink. The glass stayed on the table untouched, however.

“My my,” Octavia said. She drank from Mac’s glass. “I’ve never seen such apprehensive looks.”

Macintosh looked up at the other ponies at the table, at the other Elements of Harmony. Twilight was staring intently at her glass of cider, her first and perhaps only one of the night. Rainbow Dash finished off the last of hers. She scowled at the bottle for a moment and quietly excused herself from the table. None of them knew where she was going, and none of them asked her. Fluttershy looked at her friends one after the other, hoping for one of them to provide a lead, and Rarity was busy slowly chewing an apple fritter she had been working on for the last ten minutes as she avoided eye contact with everyone. Pinkie seemed the only one unaware of the atmosphere, and she continued doing what she always had done during the reunion and busily ate every apple treat the Apple family had provided.

Twilight coughed and cleared her throat. She raised her head and gave Macintosh a forced smile. “So you’re moving? Where to?” she asked.

“Canterlot,” Mac said.

“Lovely winters in Canterlot,” Rarity whispered.

“Big Macintosh, we need to talk about Applejack,” Twilight began, “She’s spending a lot of time on the farm.”

“She has to,” Mac said. “With me doing less work and Applebloom still too young to do a lot of the heavy lifting, it’s pretty much expected.” Macintosh said. He took his glass between his hooves and turned it slowly back and forth.

“But now she’s starting to work as much as...as much as you did a few months ago. Not to mention that Applebucking Season is fast approaching,” Twilight said.

“Just convince her to hire on extra help,” Mac said. “Heck, there’s plenty of foals in the Apple family that’d be more than glad to help her out.”

“We tried that,” Twilight said, “but she thinks she can handle all the work herself, and you know how stubborn she is.”

“What makes you think I gotta chance to change her mind if you couldn’t?” Macintosh asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer. “Applejack is a grown pony that can make her own decisions. Besides, she’s dead-set on having me do as little work as possible. Face it, Twilight. There’s nothing I can do, even if I wanted to.”

Twilight rubbed her temple in frustration. “What is it with this family and wanting to do all the work themselves?” She half-muttered to the air. “Considering the story I heard today I could understand why you would, Macintosh, but what in Celestia’s name has gotten into Applejack lately? It’s as if all she thinks about now is the farm.”

“If you still haven’t figured it out then why don’t you just ask her?” Macintosh asked.

“Ask me what?” Applejack said as she approached the table. Twilight froze on the spot, her coat practically bristling from the surprise. She snatched her glass from the table and gulped down the drink.

“I was just wondering if there was any more cider, Applejack,” Twilight said with a nervous laugh.

“There’s a bottle right in front of ya,” Applejack said, pointing to a full bottle of cider not three inches away from Twilight’s hoof.

“Oh right, I must not have seen it.” Twilight gave her a half-smile and quickly turned to pour herself more cider.

“It’s, um, getting late,” Fluttershy said. She stood up and stretched out her wings. “I should really get going.”

“Same for me, I’m afraid,” Rarity added. “I have much to do tomorrow.”

“As much as I would love for this stimulating conversation to continue,” Octavia said, “I really should get to the train station.”

“Oh that’s right, you live all the way in Canterlot,” Applejack said. “Why don’t you spend the night here, Octavia? We’ve got a guest bedroom available if yer interested.”

“Really?” Octavia said with a smirk and a small sideways glance at Rarity, who looked none too pleased. “Why that’s so generous of you. I accept your offer.”

“A-Applejack,” Rarity said as she rushed to Applejack’s side. “I’m afraid I may have had a bit too much cider and am not feeling too well. Would you mind terribly if I also stayed the night?” she asked.

“Course you can,” Applejack said with a smile. “You can share the guest bedroom with Octavia, or if you want you can stay in my room and Ah could just sleep on the floor.”

“Oh no, please don’t inconvenience yourself for my sake,” Rarity said with a flutter of her eyelashes. “I’ll share with Octavia. I’m sure we’ll have just the most riveting bedtime conversation.”

“Absolutely,” Octavia said, eyes half-lidded. “We’ll talk of flowers and butterflies and other pretty things easily crushed underhoof.”

“Sounds simply divine,” Rarity said.

-*-

Big Macintosh tucked away the photo album in his top dresser drawer right beside his mother’s music box. In the dark, silent room, alone with his thoughts, Macintosh was tempted to wind it up and listen to it for an hour or two. Ultimately, he decided not to. He already had enough of the past for one day. As he closed the drawer, he decided that maybe he should leave the music box for Applebloom. If he was moving out, it wouldn’t make sense to take such a precious family heirloom. He would do the same with his harness. Applejack could probably put it to better use now. He should also return Miss Smartypants as well.

Macintosh looked around his room, and slowly realized that he wasn’t going to bring anything from the farmstead into Octavia’s apartment. What did he really need? There was nothing here that Octavia didn’t already have at her apartment.

Except for a family. Although...maybe Octavia could be his family.

Macintosh shook his head and ran a hoof through his mane. He was thinking too much again. Thinking too far ahead. He pulled his covers and got into bed, ready to sleep now that Rarity and Octavia had finally stopped whisper-shouting quips at each other. He was just about tired with all the innuendos and veiled threats.

He stared at the ceiling for a long time. An hour, maybe two. A million thoughts swam in his head along with the chirps of crickets. He wondered how many apples he could bring. He wondered if he had to pay for cider now. He wondered if Octavia liked applejack. He wondered if Applejack liked Octavia. Did it even matter?

A knock on his window provided a welcomed distraction. Macintosh hopped out of bed, and when he undid the latch and pushed open his window he was only mildly surprised when Rainbow Dash flew in. She still had the scowl she was wearing when she left, but it softened and then vanished when she turned to look at him. Her mane was in disarray, more so than usual, and she looked tired, her wings drooping slightly at her sides. Perhaps she couldn’t get much sleep either.

“Hey Mac,” she said, trying to break a smile but ultimately failing. She tapped at the wood floor and looked away at a far corner of the room. “You got time to talk?” she asked.

“Always,” Mac said.

Rainbow Dash nodded and started to speak, but she was quickly interrupted by the sound of harsh whispers coming from beyond Mac’s bedroom door. They were quiet and indecipherable, but their timbre was very much familiar. Macintosh sighed at the disturbance and headed for the door. He opened it, and found Rarity and Octavia arguing in front of the door frame. They stopped their whispering as soon as the door creaked.

Rarity cleared her throat to break the sudden silence. “So sorry to bother you, Macintosh,” she said. “I was just following Octavia after she snuck out of the room. I had a feeling she was coming here to disturb you. I thought it rather inconsiderate and decided to stop her.”

Octavia rolled her eyes. “I already said you could go first, Rarity. I honestly don’t know what more you want of me.”

Rarity’s face turned a bright red. “You said no such thing!” She glanced over at Macintosh and then back at Octavia. “A-And even if you were to offer such a preposterous proposal I would certainly refuse,” she quickly added.

“Refuse? You must not think very much of Macintosh.”

They descended into their usual back and forth, and Big Macintosh promptly ignored them. He closed the door, but they didn’t seem to notice, as their conversation continued without pause. “Maybe we should talk outside,” he told Rainbow Dash. “Head out the window. I’ll meet you at the hill with a bottle of applejack. Deal?”

The corner of Dash’s mouth turned up slightly. “Deal,” she said. She took off out the window, closing it behind her, and flew in the direction of the apple orchard. Macintosh, meanwhile, reopened the bedroom door. Rarity and Octavia were still having their back and forth, and he quietly stepped past them. Only then did the two stop to watch him go.

“Macintosh, where are you going?” Rarity asked.

“Going to see a friend,” Macintosh said without stopping or looking back. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t follow me.”

He headed down the stairs without bothering to check their reactions, and went outside to the farm. Only the buzz of fireflies filled the air, along with their softly glowing bodies. The sound of grass crushed beneath Mac’s hooves soon joined in. A thick fog had rolled in, and it obscured the tops of the trees in swirling mist as white as Rarity’s coat. It was almost as if winter had come early.

Macintosh only stopped to retrieve a bottle of applejack and two glasses. It was the same bottle he, Rainbow Dash, and Twilight had drank that one night a week or so ago. It was only half-filled now, the last of his hoard. There wouldn’t be any more until the next Cider Season. Mac remembered that he was moving away, and so he had to correct himself. That bottle would perhaps be the last of the applejack he would make for a long while at least. If it was for Dash, then it was worth it. The conversation he would have with her would be a tough one. Maybe a drink or two would make it a bit easier. He could definitely use it.

Dash was already there by the time he climbed to the top of the hill, but no word was shared between them. They looked at each other, and Mac poured the drinks for them to sip. The two of them nursed their drinks as they took in the sights. Mac figured that it would take a glass for either of them to feel comfortable enough to start. The usual amount for him at least. He looked down at the Apple family farmstead, and the hundreds of apple trees that surrounded it. It was certainly going to be a good harvest this year.

“How can you stand it, Mac?” Dash asked, her drink only half gone.

“Stand what?” he asked as he finished his own glass of applejack.

“Everything,” she said. Dash finished the rest of her applejack and dropped the cup to the ground, getting up on all fours, unable to remain sitting for a moment longer. “This whole thing with Applejack and Twilight getting you to work less.” She kicked at the grass, sending a few blades into the fog and wind. “It sucks,” she whispered as she stared down at the strip of dirt her kick unearthed. She looked back at him. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, you know? But I can’t anymore.”

She paced back and forth in front of him, shaking her head as she tried to piece the right words together. “I don’t know a lot about what it takes to run a farm, but I do know that somepony’s gotta do all the mowing and planting and plowing and a dozen other things. For a long time it was you doing all that stuff, wasn’t it? Back when Applejack was hanging out with us and going on adventures with us, it was you. But now that everything’s calm and peaceful it’s like Applejack’s butting her way in. Like, ‘Hey thanks for all the hard work, but we don’t need you anymore, so go ahead and fade into the background.’ And now that you’re moving it’s like you’re giving up!”

Mac retrieved Dash’s glass and poured both of them more applejack. He offered it to her, and with a sigh she accepted it, sitting back down across from him.

“What do you want me to do, Dash?” Macintosh asked.

“I want you to get angry!” Dash said, rearing up and stretching out her forelegs and wings to make herself look as big as possible. “I want you to kick and scream and say ‘I’m mad as hell and I’m not gonna take it anymore!’ How can you go through all that work to take the farm from Moonshine and just let Applejack practically do the same thing.”

Macintosh took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, his breath condensing as it left his lips. It rose up like smoke and joined the fog that surrounded them. It had thinned considerably since he first stepped outside, and now looked like steam rising from the cold ground itself. As the morning came, the fog would settle and become the dew that clung to the leaves of the trees and every blade of grass on the farm.

“Look around, Dash,” Mac said. “I mean really look.” Dash gulped down her drink and stood up to do just that. She turned in place as she looked down at the hundreds of apple trees around them. Each of them with dozens upon dozens of juicy, red apples hanging from their branches. The Apple family farmstead stood silent and dark as the ponies inside slept soundly. Several fields surrounded the house and the barn, and about half of them were filled with leafy greens ready to be picked and eaten. The rest were neatly plowed into rows, ready to have seeds planted into them.

“You should’ve seen it back then,” Mac whispered. “Dead and dry with not a blade of grass, but look at it now. Not a bad job, huh?” He smiled at her, an honest to goodness smile. “But now the job’s done. The farm’s never been better or bigger, and now I can give it to Applejack and let her do what she wants with it. Now all that’s left for me to do is go to the next job.”

“So what’s the next job?” Dash asked, coming to sit beside him. She poured herself the last of the applejack and sipped at it slowly.

Mac chuckled. “Whatever I want it to be.”

Dash managed to give him a small smile, but it vanished behind the brim of her glass. The two stayed silent, listening to the buzz and hum of nature around them. They sipped away the last of the applejack, and Dash tipped the empty bottle to get every last drop. She gave up after a few seconds, and discarded the bottle. She stared out at a distant point while Mac looked up at the full moon floating above them.

“I got invited to a Wonderbolt’s tryout tomorrow,” Dash said

“That’s great!” Mac said with a smile. “What time is it? I would’ve guessed that somepony would’ve told me soon as I walked into Sweet Apple Acres.”

“You’re the only pony I’ve told, Mac,” Dash said.

“Oh,” Mac said. He tilted his head. “So when are you gonna tell the others? I’m pretty sure you can’t just spring this on them last minute. I’m sure Twilight would have a fit trying to plan everything in so short a time.”

“I’m not going to tell them,” Dash said. “I don’t want to.”

“Why not?” Mac asked, utterly confused.

Dash shrugged. “This one’s special,” she said. “Invite only. No cheering section. If I told them they’d just want to come and I’d have to say no. Besides, I want to know if I can do this by myself. I think this is it, Mac. This is the one. I’ve been training so hard, and I think I’m finally ready.”

“Good luck, Dash,” Mac said. “I’m gonna miss ya when you’re finally accepted and you go out travelling Equestria for your shows.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, Mac,” Dash said. “But I’ll still visit, you know. I’m the fastest pegasus in Equestria, so coming to see you for a day or two won’t be a problem at all.”

Mac smiled and mussed up Dash’s hair with a playful hoof. She laughed and held his hoof still with her own. “Cut it out you goof,” she said. Mac did so, and Dash tried to straighten her mane out a bit. “So how are you finding a place in Canterlot anyway? It’s pretty ritzy over there, right? Aren’t houses over there crazy expensive?”

“Octavia’s letting me stay with her,” Mac said.

“Oh, now it’s making sense,” Dash said as she elbowed his side. “Trading in your plow for a mare, huh?”

“Wouldn’t put it like that,” Mac said. “But I’m curious to hear what you think about her.”

“She totally annoys Rarity,” Dash said, “so that’s a plus. And did you see the way she stared at your Aunt Applesauce. It was almost scary. She’s definitely got your back, though, no doubt about that. Maybe she can push back whenever you get pushed around. You’re a great friend, Mac, but I gotta tell ya. You’re pretty much a huge softie.”

“Suppose you’re right about that,” Mac said with a smile. He stood up and rolled his shoulders. “I’m gonna go hit the hay. You should too. You’re gonna need as much sleep as you can get to prepare for your tryout.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Dash said as she tried in vain to stifle a yawn. She stood up and gave Macintosh a hug, one that he gladly returned. They let each other go, and with a beat of her wings Dash hovered above the ground. “I’ll let everypony know the good news right after I get back,” she said. With a last goodbye she flew higher into the sky and headed home. Mac watched her go until she was just a speck in the sky. Soon enough he would be leaving as well, and for once he thought that it might not be a bad thing.

18. No Need for Goodbyes

No Need for Goodbyes

Pizzicato. The word floated, as if on a breeze, into Macintosh’s mind on such a lazy Sunday. The hesitant plucking would start at a low pitch and then step higher and higher slowly, hesitantly. Then it would crawl back down, like a pony going down a steep hill, pausing every so often to secure unsure footing. Scales.

Mac blinked. Had he spent the night at Octavia’s again? No. The sound did not come from a professional’s hooves, certainly not Octavia’s. It lacked the resolute certainty, the confidence and the daring. He blinked again. The familiar wood paneling of his room came into focus, and last night’s events came rushing back. He groaned and tried to get up, but being awake for thirty-six hours straight took a toll on his body. It felt heavier, and rebelled against his early rise. The warmth of his bed only made waking much more difficult. His bed was a magnet, and he an unrefined chunk of iron helplessly drawn to it. Unwilling to succumb to laziness, Macintosh rocked from side to side until the gathered momentum dropped him to the floor, blankets and all. He stood, enjoyed his victory for a few seconds, and then left his room to journey downstairs where the cello-sounds originated. Mac hoped that whoever was playing Octavia’s cello asked for permission first, especially at such an early hour.

He was a bit weak in the knees and took the stairs at a slow pace. With each step down he heard Octavia speak between each scale.

“Again.” The notes rose and fell.

“Again.” Up and down.

“Again.”

Mac entered the living room and came upon a strange sight: Applebloom stood behind the cello, her right foreleg wrapped around the neck, while the other kept the large, wooden body steady. Her hoof traveled down and up as she plucked the strings. When did Applebloom get so big? Her hoof easily reached the top of the cello’s neck.

Octavia glared at Applebloom’s hooves as well as the cello strings, a predator hungry for any minor mistake. Granny Smith, meanwhile, was sitting on her chair half-asleep and clicking her hooves to keep the beat. A beat that Applebloom failed to keep.

“Octavia,” Applebloom said. She leaned the cello against her shoulder so that she could rub her hooves together. “My hooves hurt.”

“That means you are developing callouses, which you will need if you are to become a competent cellist,” Octavia said. “Now enough dallying and play an E major scale.”

Applebloom ignored her instruction. “Shouldn’t Ah be learning to use a bow? Why do Ah have to keep pluckin’ scales?” she asked.

“You have not yet earned the privilege to play with a bow,” Octavia said. “Why, when I was your age I was playing on street corners, entertaining ponies to earn enough bits to afford a meager carrot, and I played on a cello with a single string with nothing but my hooves. It was only after several months that I found a bow, and I had to string it with strands of my own tail.”

It was the perfect opportunity. Macintosh sauntered into the room and rested his chin on top of Octavia’s head. “But now it’s all root beer floats and apple pies for ya, huh?” he said with a smile.

Octavia grunted, annoyed but unmoving. “That doesn’t matter,” she muttered. “Please, Macintosh, you are ruining my credibility as an artist.”

“So what’s going on here anyway?” Macintosh asked as he removed himself from Octavia.

“This one kept begging to play my cello,” Octavia said, “and I finally agreed on the condition that she dedicate one full hour to actually learning how to play it properly. We still have twenty minutes left, and I intend to–“

“Breakfast is ready!” Rarity’s voice called out. She peeked out of the kitchen into the living room. “Hurry before it gets cold. I worked very hard on it.” Granny Smith awoke with a snort and, after a nice long yawn and stretch, hopped off her chair. Macintosh tilted his head at Rarity, wondering why in Equestria she decided to cook breakfast. Applebloom was more accepting of this strange occurrence, and as soon as she heard ‘breakfast’ she leaned the cello against the couch and started trotting to the kitchen. Octavia quickly stepped in front of her.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Octavia said.

“Um...to breakfast?” Applebloom said.

“You still have practice,” Octavia said, waving her hoof at the cello. Applebloom looked at the instrument, her ears pinned, then looked over at Mac.

“C’mon now, Octi,” Mac said. “Forty minutes is enough for a little filly, don’t ya think?”

Octavia narrowed her eyes at him, and in the silence, Applebloom found her opportunity to slip away into the kitchen. Octavia frowned. “No wonder she doesn’t have her cutie mark yet,” she muttered, “the little thing has little persistence. Not that you were any help.”

Mac smiled. “Let her be. Little ponies are supposed to be interested in a lot of things. There’s no point in forcing her to focus on one. Besides, Apples always get their cutie marks a bit late.”

“Lucky lucky,” Octavia murmured. “You’re very fortunate that I am tired and there is food waiting for us, or else you would have drawn a bigger fight from me. I just can’t think up any good words right now.” Octavia walked past him, and Mac followed. Truth be told he was feeling a mite peckish himself.

“How was sharing a room with Rarity?” he asked.

Octavia chuckled, and for a moment it sounded sincere rather than sarcastic. “A great opportunity to sharpen my wit.” She flattened her lips into a thin line, as if pondering whether to continue, but soon she stepped into the kitchen and the conversation dropped. Macintosh didn’t mind.

So much food burdened the dining room table that Macintosh thought it a small miracle that the table legs didn’t buckle under the weight. Syrup soaked pancakes and waffles gleamed in the light. Scrambled eggs, as soft and fluffy as cashmere, steamed in a large bowl. The smell of citrus wafted from another bowl filled with a fruit salad of orange wedges, apples, grapes, and chunks of pineapple.

Applejack placed utensils and plates around the table, and Rarity placed a large serving dish of oatmeal drizzled with honey and garnished with blueberries. Octavia licked her lips and took a seat. Macintosh sat beside her; Rarity, beside him. Applejack sat across from Mac with Applebloom taking a seat beside her. Granny Smith took the head of the table.

“Yer such a dear for going through all this trouble, Miss Rarity. Takes me back to when my daughter used to cook breakfast for us, sweet thing,” Granny Smith said. Rarity bowed her head, and Granny Smith smiled at her. She then looked over at Octavia and squinted her eyes, considering her for a moment. “Did Ah ever tell ya you remind me of mah dear husband, Cedar?”

Octavia quirked an eyebrow. “Do I?”

“That ya do.” Granny Smith smiled. “Ya got that same hungry look in yer eyes, an’ Ah ain’t talking about breakfast, missy. Why, Ah remember when we first met, told me he was gonna show the world what a dirt-born earth pony could do.”

“Uh, Granny?” Mac cleared his throat and caught his grandmother’s attention. “If we don’t eat soon we’re all gonna get a hungry look in our eyes.”

Granny Smith nodded. “Best eat before the food gets cold, Ah s’pose.”

With that, everyone reached toward the center of the table to get their share. They passed around plates until everyone had what they wanted. Mac scooped a small helping of fruit into his empty bowl. It would be enough to last him the day, he decided. Octavia, meanwhile, piled food high onto every dish in front of her. By Mac’s estimate, she took about a solid quarter of the food. Thankfully, Rarity prepared just enough to fill everyone’s stomachs.

Only Applebloom stared openly at the amount of food Octavia served herself. If Octavia noticed, she didn’t let on. Instead, she busied herself with eating. They all did soon enough, and the first half of breakfast passed in silence.

Mac finished his small serving of fruit, and the silence broke.

“So, Mac, yer really leavin’, huh?” Applejack asked.

“Eeyup, still haven’t decided on a date yet.”

“Rarity told me Canterlot. Pretty expensive over there. Where’re you staying, and how’re you affording it?”

Macintosh said nothing at first. He scraped the bottom of his bowl to get at the sweet juice that collected there. He stuck his spoon into his mouth and, as the citrus tickled his tongue, he tried to figure out how to tell her the truth without telling her the truth. He knew that both Applejack and Rarity would react less than positively about the particulars of his moving. Mac took the spoon out of his mouth and took a quick glance at Rarity, and then at Octavia. They both stared at him, waiting for an answer.

“I’ve been hoarding a pretty large savings. There’s an empty apartment above Octavia’s place. I’m moving in there.” Those three statements were all true. He’d just neglected to mention that Octavia owned both apartments, that she was letting him move in for free, and, most damning of all, that the two apartments were connected; therefore, technically, he and Octavia were moving in together.

His answer satisfied everyone at the table, and he only had to deal with Rarity’s silent scowl.

Applejack nodded at his answer and moved on to another subject. “Got any plans for today?”

Macintosh scraped the bottom of the bowl again. He found it bone dry, but he placed the spoon in his mouth anyway. “After I walk Octavia to the train station I gotta take care of some things before I leave for Canterlot. Plus I got some engagements I need to plan for.”

Octavia ate the last bit of egg off her plate. “I’ve decided to stay here for a while longer. Rarity’s offered to create a dress for me, and I’m never one to take such generosity for granted.”

“That so?” Mac asked with a tilt of his head. He looked over at Rarity, and she gave him a nod and a smile that didn’t put Mac’s nerves at ease. He had his suspicions, but he really couldn’t complain about Rarity and Octavia spending time together. A possible friendship between them would disarm a lot of landmines in his social circle. Instead of pressing the subject further, Mac shrugged, stood, and took his dishes to the sink.

Applejack stood as well and rolled her shoulders. Her eyes widened for a split second. “Oh Applebloom, Ah almost forgot to tell ya.” She turned to her little sister. “Sorry, sugarcube, Ah’m gonna have to miss watchin’ the butterfly migration. Ah’m planning to add a couple of new fields for the farm.”

“Oh,” Applebloom said, staring at her plate. “Th-that’s okay. Ah’ll still have loads of fun with Fluttershy and the crusaders.”

“I’m sure Fluttershy knows a whole lot more about butterflies than Applejack anyway,” Big Mac said with a smile in an attempt to cheer up his baby sister. “No offense, AJ.”

“Aw heck, it’s the truth,” Applejack said with another smile aimed at Applebloom.

Applebloom gave each of them a weak smile, excused herself from the table, and thanked Rarity for breakfast. She left through the backdoor, leaving behind an uncomfortable silence. Mac hurried to change the subject.

“You want me to walk with you to Rarity’s?” he asked Octavia. “Doesn’t seem right for me to bring you down to Ponyville and then leave you to fend for yourself.”

Octavia opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say a word Rarity wrapped a foreleg around her neck and pulled her close enough for their cheeks to squish together. “Macintosh, sweetie, you have nothing to worry about. She’s under my watchful care. I’ll be sure to keep her happy and entertained.”

Octavia tensed her jaw and pushed Rarity away. “Needless touching and possible innuendo aside, I’m perfectly fine being on my own, Macintosh. This isn’t the first time I’ve been behind enemy lines, so to speak. Shall we leave then, Rarity?”

“Of course, darling, I’ll lead the way.”

Rarity sashayed out of the kitchen, and Octavia, a deep scowl chiseled into her face, followed behind her. The front door opened and closed, leaving Applejack, Granny Smith, and Big Macintosh alone in the kitchen.

“So which one’s gonna come back alive, you reckon?” Granny Smith asked. She sipped at a mug of black coffee.

“My bit’s on Rarity. Ah’ve seen her send a pack of diamond dogs whimpering the other way,” Applejack said.

“Ah dunno about any diamond dogs,” Granny Smith said, “but Octavia’s got that inner rage, it’s clear on her face. Betcha she just needs a reason to bring it out.”

“Will you two crazy ol’ nags quiet down?” Mac said with a huff. “For all we know they could be startin’ a nice friendship. Maybe they got to know each other and found out they had more in common than not.”

Applejack and Granny Smith met gazes and burst into laughter. They laughed for a long minute, and Mac frowned the entire time.

“Yeah sure, Mac,” Applejack said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Ah’m sure they’re gettin’ along all hunky-dory.” Applejack sipped at her mug. When she brought her cup down, her smiled had vanished. “Truth is, Mac, Ah think you should choose one or the other before things get...bitter.”

Macintosh blew a few strands of his mane out of his eyes. “If they can’t at least pretend to get along, then I ain’t gonna choose either one. It’d probably be best for us to just be friends. Keep them in separate circles and away from each other. So far it looks like they’re putting in an effort, and I really appreciate that.”

Applejack sighed. “Yeah, Ah hate to say it, but ya might be right, big brother.” She swirled her mug. “So much for pickin’ bridesmaid dresses.”

Mac chuckled. “You never know, you got plenty of other friends I can date.”

“Shut up,” Applejack said with a small smile. She downed the coffee left in her mug and stood from the table. “Ah better get started on my chores. Ah know yer busy, Mac, but would ya mind doin’ the dishes?”

“Sure thing,” Mac said.

Applejack gave him a nod and trotted out the door. Macintosh watched her go. He gathered the dirty dishes, packing away any leftover food for later, and stacked them into the sink.

“Leave the dishes to me,” Granny Smith said. She got up and pushed Big Mac out of the way. Despite the mare’s age, she still had the strength to jostle her biggest grandchild. “You get started on yer errands, and Ah’ll get these dishes. Beats takin’ a nap.”

Mac knew better than to argue with his granny. He gave her a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and gave her a heartfelt thanks.

-*-

Macintosh flicked his ponytail back and forth to each side of his neck. He stared, freshly showered, at his bathroom mirror. A frown crossed his face. Washing, combing, drying, and tying his mane and tail proved a greater hassle than he ever wanted to deal with. Back when he worked on the farm he kept them short so that he needed little time to prepare for the day. However, the stallions in Canterlot always kept their manes and tails long, usually styled and gelled into slick designs. If Mac wanted to fit in, he would need a long mane as well, though he didn’t feel a need to go over the top with styling. Not yet, anyway.

He opened the bathroom door and allowed the steam to waft out in swirls. Mac went into his room and swung his saddlebags across his back. He stared at his harness hanging on its hook for a second. His gaze wandered to the shelf beside it, and the Miss Smarty Pants doll slouched on top. He took the doll gently in his teeth and tucked it into his bags. It was time to return it.

He trotted down the stairs and through the front door, and he smiled as he felt dirt beneath his hooves. Mac took a deep breath of the brisk autumn breeze, taking in the sight of the red-tinged leaves rustled by that breeze. The grass reflected the sun in shimmering bands that moved with the wind. He sighed and started his walk into Ponyville.

He was leaving this all behind. He would miss it, there would be no doubt about that, but it was for the best. The farm didn’t need him anymore, and it was in Applejack’s capable care now. It was time to let go and move on so that he could create his own path in life. Doing what, he wasn’t quite sure yet. Maybe he would find out in Canterlot, maybe not. Either way, it wasn’t as if he would never be back.

Lost in his thoughts, Macintosh arrived at the library sooner than he realized. Though like most libraries it was closed on Sunday, he still hoped Twilight might be home. He raised his hoof to knock, but a sudden hesitation stopped him.

He didn’t know exactly how Twilight would react to him giving back her doll. It wasn’t much of a secret anymore, but she never approached him about it. He didn’t know whether she didn’t mind or if she wanted him to return it of his own volition. Worst case scenario: she had waited all this time for him to return it and would have quite an earful to give him once he handed the doll over. Mac clenched his teeth at the thought. What if he seriously damaged their friendship? He had left the farmstead with a steely resolve but now, in front of the library, that resolve shriveled away.

Mac shook his head. Whatever happened, happened. He wanted to return this doll, and he would do just that. He knocked. Seconds passed and no answer came. He knocked again, a bit louder this time. Still no answer.

Macintosh actually felt relieved. Thankfully, it seemed he wouldn’t have to worry about it today.

Mac turned to leave, but as soon as he had his back to the door it opened.

“Hey Macintosh, come on in,” Twilight said.

Mac quickly turned around again and smiled to hide his sudden nervousness. “Morning, Twilight.” He entered the library. The books and notebooks opened on the table didn’t surprise him. He looked around for any sign of Spike but found none. Twilight ushered him to the table. He sat and placed his saddlebags behind him. Twilight disappeared behind a door and came back with a cup of tea for him. She returned to her seat at the messiest part of the table.

“Sorry about taking so long to answer, I kind of forget myself when I’m reading,” Twilight explained with a blushing smile.

“No problem,” Macintosh said. “Where’s Spike?”

“He went to see the Monarch butterfly migration.”

Macintosh nodded. “You didn’t go?”

“I felt like staying in today to read and enjoy some tea.” Twilight shrugged. “So what brings you here, Macintosh? Did you want to talk about obtuse subjects and abstract philosophy?” By her wry smirk, Macintosh knew she meant only to tease.

“Actually I was hoping to talk about somethin’ new. Maybe learn a bit of something about everything,” Macintosh said with a chuckle. “How about physics?”

“You wouldn’t like being a physicist,” Twilight said. “They don’t even know where ninety-five percent of the universe is. Become a mathematician. You’ll know everything about the world, just maybe not this world.” She took a sip of her tea.

“Is there anypony out there that knows everything?”

Twilight flipped through her book. “Of course not. Not Starswirl the Bearded, not Princess Luna, not even Princess Celestia. That’s why ponies have to work together. A pony alone can’t know everything, but if everypony pools they’re knowledge, then we get pretty close. The more a pony learns, the more they have to contribute.”

Macintosh raised his cup and allowed the tea to burn his lips. “Sounds like you thought a lot about it.”

“I had to...thanks to you,” Twilight said.

“Me?”

She nodded. “I don’t know if I ever told you this, Macintosh, but I’ve always thought a pony should always try to learn as much as they can. If they didn’t, then they were wasting their mind. That’s why I tried to so hard to make you interested in learning new things. If you didn’t, then you would never reach your full potential.” Twilight sighed and closed her book. She stared at the cover, her lips in a tight line. She didn’t look up when she spoke. “But you’ve been through hardships I can’t even imagine for reasons I deeply understood. All this time I approached you with my own perspective, not yours. It’s no wonder we’ve always butted heads.” Twilight finally raised her head to meet gazes. Her eyes watered. “Just because a pony has a different perspective doesn’t make that perspective less valuable. I’m sorry.”

Macintosh smiled softly, he had worried that someone would react like this. “Twilight, I got my own theory about ponies. You wanna hear?”

“Uh, sure,” Twilight said, her eyes squinted in confusion.

“We all have our own challenges, Twilight. Whether you’re an Element of Harmony protecting Equestria, a dirt poor farmer earning his land, or a street foal getting by on a chunk of plywood. A pony can go through hell and back, through worse things than what I’ve gone through, and survive. They may come out dinged and worse for wear, but that ain’t nothing love, care, work, patience, and time can’t buff out a bit. I was lucky enough to have all five. My past ain’t so bad when you look at it like that.”

Twilight took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I guess it doesn’t.” She managed a smile, and Mac’s own became stronger as well.

“Before I forget,” Mac said as he reached into his saddlebags, “the reason I came here was to give you this.” He pulled out the doll and held it out to her.

Her eyes lit up like a starry night. “Miss Smarty Pants!” Twilight pulled her out of Mac’s grasp and held her close to her cheek. She touched the doll’s dangling button eye. “She’s exactly like I remember her.” Twilight squeezed Miss Smarty Pants to her chest and looked at Mac. “Thank you but...I’m curious why you took her in the first place.”

Macintosh’s cheeks burned. “Aw well, she reminds me of the toys I used to play with when I was a colt. Having her around sort of let me remember the good days of my foalhood.”

“You had dolls when you were little?”

“Sure did,” Mac said. “Though I’m not sure ponies would consider what I had dolls. Dolls are usually made outta fabric and cotton and the like. I carved mine outta wood, and made ‘em look like ponies I knew and read about. I had a little Applejack one, an Applebloom one, a Daring Doo one, all kinds.”

“Really?” Twilight asked. “I’d love to see them.”

“I’d love to show you,” Mac said, “but I burned them over a decade ago.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “That’s terrible. What happened?”

Macintosh shrugged. “It was back when I was a colt, before Moonshine showed up at the reunion but after my parents passed. It was in the middle of spring. One night it snowed and snowed and snowed, almost a blizzard. We used up our firewood in the winter, and didn’t expect we’d need more so soon after Winter Wrap-Up. We had to burn anything we could find.”

“But to burn toys that you made yourself?”

Macintosh shrugged. “Look around you, Twilight, and imagine having matches but no wood. You need to feed a fire or freeze. What would you burn? What would you save? Granny Smith burned a patch of the family quilt. Applejack burned her lasso. I burned my wood toys.” Macintosh chuckled as a long buried detail rushed into his memory. “If I’d known where my mother’s harness was back then I would’ve burned that instead. I found out after the fact that there was a mix-up at the weather factory. It rained in the mountains and snowed over Sweet Apple Acres.”

Twilights eyes watered again, and she tightened her hold on Miss Smarty Pants. Macintosh looked away from her. He hated telling stories from his childhood, mostly because it made his listener glum.

“Twilight,” he began, facing her again, “I don’t tell these stories to make ponies sad. It happened a long time ago, and the experience made me a better pony. When it all comes down to it, those wooden dolls were just chunks of wood. I could always make them again if I wanted to.”

“But they held some sentiment for you, didn’t they? I can’t imagine burning Miss Smarty Pants now, let alone as a filly back when she meant the world to me.”

“I ain’t saying they didn’t hold any meaning for me,” Big Mac said. “Let me put it like this. Imagine your mom, your dad, your brother, every pony you love in your heart of hearts. Would you burn Miss Smarty Pants for their sake?”

Twilight bit her lip, but it only took a second for her to nod her head.

“You know what I know,” Mac said. “That your doll, my toys, and these books can all be replaced. Even lost knowledge can be found again if enough time passes. A pony, once they’re gone, ain’t coming back. It hurt to burn those toys, but I’d burn much more if it was for my family.”

Twilight took a deep breath and nodded. “I’d never want to make that choice, though.”

“No pony should. A pony needs to have fun, to have friends, and to have a passion to work toward. I think that’s all a pony needs to be happy through all the ups and downs. That’s why I’m glad to see Applebloom and Applejack have all the things I didn’t when I was little.”

“You have all those things now,” Twilight said with a smile. “And you’re happy, right?”

Macintosh sighed. “I have friends, and I have fun, I just need to find some fulfilling work. For the longest time working the farm was my passion because I was helping my family, but my family doesn’t need my help anymore so...well, you know the story.”

“The missing piece of the puzzle,” Twilight said. She tapped her chin in thought. “I hope you find it soon, Macintosh. I truly do.” She placed Miss Smarty Pants on the table, and adjusted her to make sure she was comfy. “Thanks for opening up to me.” She looked down at her book, hoof on the cover, but didn’t open it. She only stared at it for several seconds of silence. “Can I open up to you about something?”

“Anything,” Mac said.

“I’m really worried about Applejack. I’m worried she’s working too much on the farm. I’m terrified that after you’re gone she’s only going to get worse. At least if you were around she could ask for help. She’s doing the same thing you did, and with Applebucking Season coming up...”

“It’s different for Applejack,” Mac rushed to say. “She wants to work at the farm. That’s her thing. So she’s spending more time on the farm, that’s normal. I’m sure once she gets her rhythm, finds her schedule, she’ll be able to spend more time with you and the others.”

Twilight frowned. “I don’t know about that, Macintosh. Sweet Apple Acres is huge. It’s impossible for a single pony to do everything that needs to be done, I know, I’ve done all the calculations. I’ve talked to her about this and she refuses to hire any help. I don’t know what else I can do.” Her voice cracked, and she turned away to clear her throat. “Please talk to her.”

Macintosh thought about his breakfast, and how Applejack told Applebloom she would be too busy to go with her to see the butterflies.

“Maybe you got a point,” Mac said. “I’ll talk to her tonight.”

Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Big Macintosh. That means a lot to me.”

“It’s no problem, but I want you to keep in mind that it’s possible she’s not gonna spend as much time with ya even if she does hire on help. Things have been quiet for a while, right? Maybe she’s just focusing on her work now that she doesn’t have to worry about saving Equestria.”

“If that were the case I wouldn’t mind,” Twilight said. “But I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

Macintosh nodded and then stood to go. “I should get going. I need to go into our cellar and decide what I’m taking with me to Canterlot.”

“What’s in the cellar?” Twilight asked.

“Just some old things from when I was a colt. Things Granny Smith wouldn’t let me burn. I haven’t rummaged through it in years.”

Twilight jumped to her hooves with the force of a sudden idea. “Hey, I know! How about we look through your things and see if there’s any clues there for what you can be passionate about?”

Macintosh raised an eyebrow. “How would that help?”

“Mac, you probably have a trunk full of things from when you were a foal. Things from before you started working on the farm. Who knows, there might be something you forgot about. Something you were really passionate about. Maybe it’ll lead us to discover what you can do to feel more fulfilled.”

Mac tilted his head. “I guess it’s worth a shot. You comin’ with me then?”

“Sure, it’ll be like doing research. You go to your sources, see what you can find, and come up with a hypothesis, which we can then test to form a theory.”

Macintosh chuckled. “Twilight, if we went to school together there’d be no way we’d be friends.” He slung his saddlebags across his back and walked out the library before Twilight could respond. As he stepped onto the cobblestone street, Twilight rushed to his side.

“Why not?” she asked as the two made their way back to the farm. “I’m sure if I had gone to school in Ponyville I would have been friends with you.”

“Nah, I don’t think you would.” Mac thought for a moment. “Well, I take that back. You shouldn’t have been friends with me. I was a mean little colt who slept during class and got into lots of fights.”

“You were bullied?”

Macintosh shrugged. “Wouldn’t call it bullying exactly. Ponies at school liked to mess with me, sure, but they only did it once. I was small, but I could bite and buck somethin’ fierce. After a while everypony just left me alone. Looking back, it was all for the best. Made leaving school an easy thing to do once I was rebuilding the farm.”

Twilight squinted her eyes at the ground, her mind working. “I wonder how we would have turned out if our lives got switched around. How would we have turned out?”

Macintosh laughed. “Could you imagine that? You a strong, dumb farm pony, and me a scrawny, little bookworm.” He shook his head with a smile. “No point in thinking about anything like that. I wouldn’t change anything about my life anyway.”

“Agreed,” Twilight said. “I wouldn’t change anything either.” They walked in silence for a long while. They left Ponyville in silence, and they entered the outer reaches of Sweet Apple Acres in silence. Only when they saw the farmstead on the horizon did Twilight speak again. “You’ll love it in Canterlot. I already sent a letter to Princess Celestia, and she said that you should feel free to visit the castle whenever you want.”

“I hope she doesn’t mind if I bring company.” Macintosh smiled at the thought of bringing Octavia to meet the princess. He’d love to see how much of her diabolical and tyrannical ambition remained when she came face to face with her competition.

“I’m sure she’d be happy if you did.”

They reached the cellar door an hour or two after noon, and Mac swung it open to reveal the stairs leading down into its cool depths. Mac descended the steps and flicked the light switch on the way down. Twilight followed. Several large shelves filled with baskets of root vegetables stood throughout the room. A pile of junk littered one of the corners, and boxes filled with unorganized treasures lined the back wall. Macintosh scanned the wall, looking for his own box. He found it tucked away in a corner and pulled it out without any difficulty. A combination of cards, books, notebooks, sketchbooks, and loose papers filled the box to it’s brim.

“Well, here it is. Dig in.”

Twilight examined the contents. She plucked a notebook from the box and opened it to a random page. Her eyes flitted through the page, and she tried to hold in a laugh. Twilight read aloud. “Rodeo Red and Nightmare Moon paced around each other in a big circle. Nightmare Moon didn’t see where she was going, so she stepped on some train tracks and a train ran her over. ‘Rodeo Red you are the bravest hero ever,’ the townspeople said. And from then on he was remembered by the entire world. The end.”

Mac’s cheeks burned. “Gimme a break, I must’ve been younger than Applebloom when I wrote that.”

Twilight chucked and placed the notebook beside the box. She continued her rummaging and pulled out a worn stack of paper bound with thick leather cord. She opened the homemade sketchbook and revealed the charcoal rendered landscapes within. Years of rubbing against each other blurred the drawings, but a few remained pristine by some divine luck.

“Macintosh these are really good,” Twilight said, carefully engulfing a particular sketch of the farmstead in her magic. Her horn flashed, and the glow disappeared. She ran a hoof through the charcoal, but it did not smear. “You really put a lot of detail into drawing the grain of the wood.”

Macintosh shrugged. “If you say so, Twilight.”

Twilight went through each page, magically protecting every sketch that could be saved from every sketchbook she found. The spell itself only took a split-second to cast, but with every sketch Twilight took a minute or two to scrutinize every detail. She went through every single sketchbook, and for what seemed like hours Mac could only watch her. The last sketch, and the one she stared at the longest, was a drawing of a leaf. The sketch took up the entire page, with every single vein and stem and textured surface rendered.

“Wow, Macintosh, I didn’t know you could draw so well. You have some amazing talent.”

“Talent?” Mac repeated with a disbelieving scoff. “Ain’t no talent, Twilight. I can’t even draw like that anymore,” Mac said. “Truth be told I really couldn’t draw much back then either. I could only draw what I could see, and it would take me hours just to finish a single one of ‘em. Doesn’t sound like talent to me.” He looked at the charcoal drawing and ran a hoof across its surface. The lines remained sharp and distinct. “Do me a favor and don’t tell Rarity about this. She’ll end up thinking I’ve got talent, just like you did, and get her hopes up about this whole art thing.” He shook his head with a sigh. “I wouldn’t wanna disappoint her after all that time she used up tryin’ to teach me.”

Twilight quirked an eyebrow and placed the sketchbooks aside. “Fine, I won’t tell her.” She rummaged through the box again. “But how about this?” She pulled out a Hearts and Hooves heart made of woven straw. Time had frayed the edges, making quite a few strands of the straw stick out at all sorts of angles.

Macintosh smiled. “I made that for my mom.”

“And it’s impeccably made,” Twilight said with a smug smile. “I bet when you first made it, it was absolutely perfect.”

“Well sure, but what you don’t see is the twenty times I failed weaving it properly, or the weeks I spent trying to figure out how to do it in the first place. That ain’t talent, that’s just stubbornness and a bit of luck.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. She topped the sketchbooks with the straw heart and went for the box again. “Fine, then how about...Oh! Macintosh, look at this!” She brought out a little chunk of wood carved in the poor facsimile of a pony, it’s four legs attached to a wide, solid base for balance.

Mac’s eyes widened as he recognized one of his old carvings. He grabbed it from her hooves like a delicate glass figurine. “Whaddya know. Looks like Granny Smith kept this one.” He turned the figure in his hooves, and a rush of warmth sprung from his chest and spread to the rest of his body. He smiled, and wiped his eyes with a foreleg. He couldn’t recognize whose likeness he had in mind when carving, but even so, he tucked the old toy into his saddlebags.

“Looks like I found what I’m taking,” Mac said. He looked into the box. Nothing but more papers and a broken pitch pipe remained. He looked up at Twilight. “So Miss Smarty Pants, what sorta hypothesis can ya take away from this old box?”

Twilight smiled. “It’s pretty obvious actually. Macintosh, you’re right, you have very little talent.”

Mac frowned at her, his heart dropping. It was one thing when he said it, quite another when she did.

Twilight chuckled. “But you have an amazing amount of focus. Sure, it might take you longer to do something, but if you take that time you can guarantee your success. I honestly believe, Macintosh, that you can be pretty amazing at just about anything if you really put your mind to it.”

Mac smiled. “That’s mighty sweet of ya to say, Twilight. It means a lot comin’ from you.” He looked at the pile of his things and started to place them back into the box. “I guess it’s just a matter of finding the right work.” He sighed as he dropped the last of the notebooks in place and shoved the box back toward the wall. “I hope I find it soon.”

“Maybe you should keep drawing,” Twilight said. “That looks promising.”

“Drawings great but...” Mac trailed off as he tried to find the right words. “I just don’t get that same feeling I got when I worked the farm. It feels like something’s missing. Same with everything else I do. It just doesn’t feel right.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out in Canterlot,” Twilight said.

Macintosh nodded but couldn’t be sure. He knew that talking about it further wouldn’t help him. With a wave of his hoof he beckoned for Twilight to follow him as he led the way back to the surface. They left the cellar, and Mac closed the door behind him.

The afternoon sun already hung so close to the horizon. Each day was becoming shorter. Mac stared at the reddening sky for a while, thinking about his future in Canterlot. Sure, there probably wouldn’t be as many gold-brushed leaves to see in Canterlot. The sounds of crickets and cicadas would more than likely become a distant memory, but surely Canterlot had it’s own sights and sounds to offer. The glimmering glass and stone of skyscrapers and palaces, the deep dulcet tones of a cello, all those fancy ponies wearing their silly frills. Heck, maybe amidst all the art galleries he might get enough inspiration to change his opinion about being an artist. Wouldn’t Rarity love that?

“Oh look, there’s Applebloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle,” Twilight said. She waved at the Cutie Mark Crusaders, and Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle waved back. Applebloom only smiled, but even from so far away Mac could see how much effort that smile took. The three of them talked amongst each other for a bit before going their separate ways: Applebloom to the farmstead, Sweetie Belle to Ponyville. Scootaloo stayed put and watched both of them leave. Once Applebloom closed the door behind her, and once Sweetie Belle became a speck on the horizon, Scootaloo trotted toward Macintosh and Twilight.

“Uh, hey Big Macintosh,” Scootaloo said, her hoof rubbing the back of her neck. “Can I...talk to you?”

Mac and Twilight exchanged worried glances. Mac cleared his throat. “Of course, sugarcube. What’s wrong?”

Scootaloo kicked the dirt for a couple of seconds before speaking again. “It’s about Applebloom. I think she’s upset about Applejack not being around. She tried to look happy but...” She trailed off and stared at the ground. “I dunno what to do, but maybe you can...maybe...”

“Don’t worry, sugarcube. I’ll take care of it,” Mac said. “Now run along home, I’m sure your parents are worried about you.”

Scootaloo gave Mac a smile and nodded. She turned and trotted the path home. As she walked, Macintosh suddenly remembered something.

“Scootaloo!” he called after her. The filly stopped and turned around. “Did you talk to your parents?”

“Yeah!” she yelled back at him. “They came with us to watch the butterflies.” With that she left, and Macintosh watched her go.

Macintosh took in a deep breath, as much air as he could take, and exhaled for several seconds. Twilight just watched him, and placed a hoof on his shoulder.

“Let’s go find Applejack,” Mac said, and Twilight only nodded.

Their search took them through the apple trees. Every one of their boughs held the weight of dozens of apples. Some branches bent toward the ground, unable to support the burden. To the normal pony, the apples looked ready to harvest, but to Mac’s trained eye they would need a few more days. Just a few. Perhaps only three by the looks of it.

They found Applejack in the southern fields placing wooden stakes in the ground and wrapping a long piece of twine around them. She had marked out the boundary of two large fields, all that had to be done now was to plow and seed them. Applejack had her back toward Twilight and Mac, and she yawned as she examined her work. Macintosh stepped forward first, and Applejack turned at the sound of the approaching hoofsteps. She saw her brother and smiled.

“Hey there, Mac. Whaddya think?” Applejack asked, gesturing to the bounded patches of dirt. Mac looked at her and saw the dark bags beneath her eyes.

“Looks good, sugarcube,” he said, “but you look awfully tired. You sure you don’t wanna take a nap or something?”

“Of course not,” Applejack said. “All Ah gotta do is till and set the fields and Ah’ll be done for today.”

Mac nodded. “Sure, but if you ain’t in top shape ya might make the field crooked and have to do it all over again.”

Applejack pressed her lips into a thin line. “Ah can do it, Mac.”

“I know you can, but even I wouldn’t make a new field lookin’ as tired as you.”

Applejack sighed and hardened her jaw. “You might be right,” she said, but she gave her brother a hard stare. “Ah’m gonna take a nap, but Ah want ya to promise me that you won’t touch that plow.” She pointed to the shining, new plow that stood beside the soon-to-be fields.

Mac shrugged. “I promise I won’t touch that plow.” He said it with no hesitation.

Applejack’s stare softened, and her frown turned into a small smile. “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, Ah’m gonna take a quick nap.” She walked past Mac and caught sight of Twilight. “Oh, evening Twi, Ah didn’t see you there. You need something?”

“No, no,” Twilight said quickly. “I just came here to spend time with Big Macintosh.”

Applejack narrowed her eyes at Twilight for a second and then shrugged. “Alright then, stay outta trouble. Last thing Ah want is to clean up after another paper dart incident.”

Twilight’s cheeks flushed. “N-nothing to worry about, honest,” she said with a nervous smile.

Applejack smiled back and returned home. Macintosh stared as she disappeared amongst the apple trees. He sighed and turned away only to get his gaze caught in Twilight’s eyes.

“You’re going to break your promise, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

Macintosh looked away from her. “What if Applejack really is making the same mistakes I did? I didn’t have time for her, and now she’s doing the same to Applebloom. She’s gonna wake up one day with Applebloom all grown up, and she’s gonna feel the same regret I did.” A smile crossed his lips. “If there’s one thing you gotta know about me, Twilight, is that I’m an honest pony. I don’t break promises. Course, if the need arises, I might just go ahead and find a loophole or two.” Mac looked over at the shining plow beside the field. He didn’t need it. He knew where to find another one.

“I’ll help you,” Twilight said. Mac raised an eyebrow at her, and she explained. “I never made a promise, and I have experience in the field. Plus, you’re a bit out of practice, right?” Her eyes traveled down to his deflated chest and legs. “You could use my help.”

Mac chuckled. “You said it yourself, Twilight. I can do anything I set my mind on. I think it’s best if you go home. It’s getting dark, and I wouldn’t want you to get between me and Applejack’s squabbling.”

Twilight bit her lip and looked around the farm. “If you think that’s best,” she said. She sounded exhausted. “I hope everything turns out okay.” She waved and walked away, taking another path through the apple trees to get to Ponyville.

Mac sighed. “Yeah, me too.”

-*-

Big Macintosh retrieved his old, rusted plow from beneath a blanket at the very back of the barn. He lifted it up with his teeth. It weighed him down a lot more than he remembered. It took a few breaks for him to take it all the way to the southern fields. Things weren’t looking too good so far. He was already breaking a sweat from carrying the damn thing. At least getting his harness proved much easier, all it took was a bit of sneaky hoofwork.

In less than twenty minutes he was ready. He set the plow at the edge of Applejack’s twine border, and visualized the path he needed to take. He strapped himself to the plow, and padded the dirt with his hooves. He took a deep breath and stared down the patch of dirt. He was scared, but he clenched his teeth and began.

His loose harness placed great strain on his neck, but he ignored it as the plow screeched along the dirt. His heart felt fit to burst, but Mac fought against the pain. By the end of the first line, sweat soaked Mac’s body. He wiped his eyes, which only made them sting. Damn it, when did he become so weak? He only managed a tiny fraction of the work, and he already felt close to collapse. His muscles burned and cried for him to stop.

With deep, heaving breaths Mac continued his work. When he finished the first field his legs started to shake. He felt light-headed, and the world began to spin a bit. Macintosh ignored the pain beginning to well up in his legs and chest. He grabbed the plow and moved it to the start of the other field to continue. He didn’t bother to catch his breath. He didn’t have time. He needed to finish before Applejack found him. But, even with all the exertion, he actually felt...content. He’d even say happy.

Each step felt like a drumbeat. Every aching muscle another note to a symphony, all measured in bars of gritted teeth. He stopped only when his front hoof stepped outside of Applejack’s marked boundary for the last time. The work was finished. He unhitched himself from the plow and allowed the harness to slip off his neck. Mac collapsed on his side, rolled onto his back, and grinned at the sky.

The wind picked up and pierced his wet coat. There were no clouds today, and the sky blazed red as the sun started to descend beneath the horizon. Mac’s grin faded as he realized how good he felt, how utterly complete he felt. He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. He took another deep breath as a sudden realization overtook him. So that’s how it was, huh?

“Big Macintosh Apple!” Applejack’s yell echoed throughout the entirety of Sweet Apple Acres.

Damn. He had hoped for a bit more time to rest before Applejack woke up. By her hoofsteps, she was at a full gallop toward Mac. She appeared in his field of vision a second later, a scowl twisting her face, teeth bared.

“I can’t believe this,” Applejack started. “Ya broke your promise and–”

“I didn’t break my promise,” Mac said. “I never touched that plow.” He pointed at the steel plow still gleaming in the last rays of the sun. “I touched that plow.” He gestured a hoof to the rusted iron on the other side of the field.

“You know what I mean!” Applejack said. “Now stand up so Ah can yell at ya properly.”

Mac sighed and rolled over on his hooves. He shook a bit as he stood, but ignored it. “Applejack, I’d love to argue with ya. The yelling, the name calling, the whole nine yards. But this ain’t an argument, this is me telling you the truth. You can’t handle the farm on your own, and Twilight tells me you ain’t open to getting any help, so I’m not going anywhere. I can’t.”

Applejack took a step back, completely disarmed, but she soon found her glare and came forward again. “You’re wrong. Ah can handle this farm just as well as you can.”

“I had you, Granny Smith, and Applebloom helping me,” Mac rebutted. “Let’s get down to brass tacks, AJ. Granny Smith is getting too old to help, and we both know Applebloom ain’t showin’ any interest in farm work. You can’t take care of the farm all by yourself.”

“You did!”

“Sugarcube–”

“Don’t you ‘sugarcube’ me, you ol’ snakebite,” Applejack interrupted. Her eyes watered. “Three years, Mac! Three years you were on this farm doin’ everything by yourself. Ah begged ya to let me help, but you wouldn’t have none of it. It got to the point where Ah didn’t want to be on this stupid farm anyway, but this place is my home, and Ah had to show you my cutie mark and yell at ya in order to even work here. You want brass tacks? Then how ‘bout this: you can’t handle me takin’ over yer precious farm. You don’t think Ah’m good enough. You never thought Ah was good enough.”

Mac stared at her for a long time, and humor bubbled up in his stomach. He laughed, loud and long, at the very thought. He laughed so hard his eyes watered. He wiped his face with a foreleg.

“Not good enough?” he repeated, and just saying the words made him chuckle. “Sugarcube, you’re too good to work on the farm. Back then, if I had my way you’d still be in Manehattan with Aunt and Uncle Orange, but when you came back I figured since it was your choice to work I should let ya.” He shook his head, still unbelieving of what Applejack said. “For the love of Celestia, the day you became the Element of Honesty was the happiest day of my life. Every single one of my regrets vanished that day. Every. Single. One.

“Applejack, when the ol’ palace scribes write your story there ain’t gonna be a farm. Ah’ll be lucky if they even mention a brother, but that’s fine by me. Because in some small, little way I helped you do what I could only dream of. You showed the world what a small pony with a funny accent from a hodunk patch of mud could do. You made it. The shining star mom always knew you’d be.

“That’s why you need me to stay. The last thing you need to be doing is runnin’ yourself ragged over this stupid farm. Your family, your friends, Equestria, they all need you. That’s your work, surgarcube. It’s where you belong. Me? My place is where the plow cuts the dirt, that’s where all my meaning is. That’s what I’m good for. Plain as the cutie mark on my backside. That’s my destiny: to take care of the farm so you can take care of Equestria.”

Macintosh laughed again, but it lost its energy and its mirth. It was a hollow laugh, a forced one, as he pieced everything together and realized what that truly meant for him. He turned away from his sister and looked up at the sky, now lit up with stars.

“Seems like an awfully cruel thing for destiny to do, don’t it?” he said. “To have me live a life I could’ve had, to make me learn all these new things, meet all these new ponies, make all these new friends, just to take me ‘round in circles. But I don’t mind. At least now I ain’t got a doubt where my place is.”

Macintosh turned back to his sister, and a hoof smacked him hard across the cheek, almost bringing him to the ground. Applejack stared at him with a tearful glare, her hoof still raised.

“You thick-headed, numb-skulled, soft-brained idiot!” she yelled at him. “What kind of hogwash are you spoutin’? ‘That’s my destiny’? That’s the dumbest damn thing you ever said and you’ve said some really dense things over the years. Ah’ve got plenty of friends who don’t think things through, so Ah’ve seen stupid done six ways from Sunday, but you, big brother, are a bona fide moron!” Applejack waited for Mac to get himself steady on his hooves before continuing. “You’ve been talking to Twilight, right? And how Ah can’t do everything on the farm myself? Well, if it’s got you talkin’ like this then Ah’m gonna hire a couple more Apples to help around here, and if Ah ever hear you talkin’ like that again, Ah’m gonna sell this damn farm. Then we’ll see if you still think you gotta be forced to work here. Ah’m serious, Mac. Ah’ll sell it, and we’ll have enough bits between us to never work another day in our lives, then we can go stir-crazy together.”

“But sugarcube, you love the farm.”

“Damn straight Ah do, but Ah love you a hundred times more. Now look me in the eyes, and tell me what you’re gonna do.”

Macintosh smiled, still rubbing his cheek to numb the pain. He looked her directly in the eyes. “I’m gonna move to Canterlot, maybe get lucky enough to live happily ever after.”

Applejack took a deep breath and smiled, an honest to goodness smile. “Good. Now move outta the way, Ah gotta inspect your work.” She pushed past him stared at the lines in the dirt for several seconds. “Not bad, all nice an’ straight. Gotta hand it to ya, Mac, Ah thought you might’ve lost yer touch.”

Mac gave her a playful scoff. “Me? Lose my touch? I could plow straight lines with a blindfold on.” He smiled, but it slowly dissolved. “Applebloom was really disappointed when you didn’t go with her to see the butterflies. You understand why that’s important, right?”

“Yeah, Ah know,” Applejack said, still staring at the new fields. “Guess Ah got so caught up with doin’ a good job Ah was making the same mistakes you were. Ah’ll make it up to her tomorrow, take a day off and go for a hike or somethin’. Sound good?”

Big Macintosh’s smile returned. “Eeyup.”

“Mac!” A pony sized force of nature slammed into Macintosh, sending both of them rolling through the dirt. When’s Mac’s eyes stopped spinning, he found himself on his back with Rainbow Dash standing on his stomach. The mare was beaming like the sun. She was drenched in sweat, and her mane looked an absolute mess. She had her forelegs wrapped around his neck before he could say a word.

“I made it, Mac. I made it. All that training paid off!” Dash spoke a mile a minute and hugged him so hard he couldn’t breathe.

Applejack ran up to them. “Rainbow, what the heck are ya–”

Rainbow Dash leapt off Mac and tackled Applejack to the ground with a hug. “I made it, Applejack! I’m a Wonderbolt, a real Wonderbolt. Well, after I complete a year of intensive training, at least. But I’m in! It’s a sure thing!”

“Whaddya mean yer in?” Applejack asked. “How do ya know? Where even were ya today?”

“I’ll explain everything later,” Rainbow Dash said with a laugh. “I gotta go tell the others. Party at Twilight’s place tonight! See ya!” She broke the sound barrier as she rushed to Ponyville. Mac and Applejack looked at each other.

“Go ahead,” Mac said. “I know you wanna chase after her.”

Applejack nodded. “Thanks, Mac. Ah’ll see ya later.” She galloped after Rainbow Dash, leaving Macintosh to his own devices. Left all alone on the big, wide farm, Macintosh decided to do some more stargazing on the usual hill. He grabbed his saddlebags, which he tossed beside the fields, and headed in the hill’s direction. He’d been thinking way too much today, and a bit of idle staring would put him at ease.

The only sounds around the farm belonged to insects giving their last hurrah before winter reclaimed the land. The biting wind could make a pony think it already arrived, but there were still several weeks of autumn left.

On his way, Mac spied a silhouette at the horizon approaching the farm. Forgetting the hill, he went to investigate. The pony came closer, and he quickly realized it was Octavia making her way back to the farmstead. She was alone, and so Mac rushed to her. She smiled when she saw him, and Mac felt his body become lighter.

“I missed ya,” he said with a smile. It was the truth, but he didn’t realize how much he meant it until the words left him. It had been a long day for him, and he missed the ease of existing around Octavia. The way she could care less about dramatic decisions and deep talks of fate.

“I missed you too.” She chuckled and looked at the ground with a shake of her head. “I must be going soft, but it’s true.” She walked past him toward the farmstead. “Walk me to my cello, won’t you?”

Macintosh nodded and walked alongside her. “So how was your day with Rarity?”

“Fine, just fine. I was surprised to learn that we have so much in common. That said, she’s a personality I can only take in...limited doses.”

“That so?” Mac asked with a raised eyebrow. “What’d you two talk about anyway? Hope it wasn’t about me.”

Octavia laughed. “Our conversation, I imagine, was similar to those had by any other pair of mares who share a love interest: we made business proposals and personal wagers. Some about you, others not.” She waved a hoof to dismiss the subject, and moved on to other gossip. “Did you know she refuses to move to Canterlot or Manehattan where almost all her clients come from? I called out how much of a stupid decision that was, and I still don’t understand her answer.”

Macintosh pricked his ears. “What’d she say?”

“Some nonsense about staying close to her friends,” Octavia said with a scoff. “As if moving a town over would threaten her friendships. For a mare that holds her friends so dearly, she doesn’t seem to have much faith in them. By the way she talked you would have thought they would disappear the moment she got on a train.”

“I don’t think that’s what it is,” Mac said. “When you spend so much of your time with a friend, you start to love ‘em like family. You love ‘em so much that the thought of being away from ‘em starts to hurt.” Mac smiled and shook his head with a laugh. “But you’re right. Those bonds are strong enough to handle some distance. Maybe once she realizes it ain’t goodbye she’ll leave. Or heck, maybe she’s found her place and has got no reason to go. My money’s on that.”

Octavia shrugged. “If she wants to stay here, then better for me. Less competition that way.” She shot a predatory smirk at Macintosh, and he pretended not to notice. The two climbed the steps of the front porch. They entered the farmstead, and Octavia found her cello in the middle of the living room between Granny Smith sleeping in her chair and Applebloom reading a book on the couch.

The sound of the door caught Applebloom’s attention. She dropped her book and trotted up to Mac. Octavia ignored the little filly and went straight for her cello.

“Can Ah talk to ya, big brother?” Applebloom asked.

Mac tilted his head. “Sure, sugarcube, anytime about anything.”

“Ah was thinking about how Applejack couldn’t come with us to see the butterflies because she had too much work. Applejack used to always have time to hang out before when you worked on the farm too. So Ah thought that if you go back to work, things’ll go back the way they were before. Applejack wouldn’t have to work so hard, and she could hang out again.”

Mac smiled. “Actually, sugarcube, I–”

“I’m sorry, did I hear you correctly,” Octavia interrupted, her cello on her back. She glared down at Applebloom, and the filly pinned her ears back. Mac tapped Octavia’s shoulder in an attempt to force his way back into the conversation, but Octavia pushed his hoof aside.

“Listen well, little filly. This morning you had a choice: spend time with your friends or spend time with your sister. You made your choice, just as your sister made a choice, and just as your brother made a choice. Now you want your brother to work so you won’t have to make another? That’s not how things work.”

Mac cleared his throat, placed a foreleg across Octavia’s chest, and gently pushed her back. “As I was sayin’, sugarcube,” Mac said, reasserting himself into the conversation. “You ain’t gotta worry about a thing. I talked to Applejack, and she’s agreed to bring in a couple more Apples to help out around here.”

Applebloom gasped. “More Apples? Do ya think she’ll hire Babs?”

“I don’t see why not, so long as she can handle the work,” Mac said. “You should talk to Applejack about it, I’m sure she’ll be glad to have some suggestions.” He stooped down to give Applebloom a hug and a quick goodbye. He went to Granny Smith, did the same, and whispered in her ear. Granny Smith gave him a slow nod and patted his head.

He turned to Octavia and beckoned toward the door. “Let’s go home.”

Octavia grimaced but followed Macintosh out of the door anyway. They walked side by side toward Ponyville with a lot more space between them than Macintosh would have liked.

“Something wrong?”

Octavia huffed. “You’re too easy on her, on both of your sisters. You make things too easy for them, and they end up taking you for granted as a result.”

“They ain’t gotta grow up like we did,” Mac said. “If I can make their life as easy as possible, then I will. Besides, it ain’t like they got it easy. They both got their own challenges to get through, especially Applejack. As for Applebloom, well, a little filly like her has to explore. Try new things, explore new places. Best to do it when you’re young. It’s much harder when you get older.”

Octavia shook her head. “That may be true, but just be warned, Macintosh. If you keep putting the needs of other ponies before your own, then you’re never going to be happy.”

Mac smiled. “That’s okay. I already know I wouldn’t be happy if I didn’t.”

Octavia sighed and ran a hoof through her mane. “That’s exactly what Rarity said.” She took a few steps and then her eyes widened, and she stared at Mac with a tilt of her head. “You said we were going home?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said.

Octavia gave him a challenging smirk. “Does that mean you’re coming with me on the train? Coming with me down the streets of Canterlot and into my building and up that elevator and through my door?”

Mac shrugged. “You could say it like that. All I know is I’m going where you’re going.”

Her smirk changed into a genuine smile, and it appeared almost kind in that starlit path between Sweet Apple Acres and Ponyville. She closed the gap between them so that their sides almost touched.

“Then does that also mean you plan to share a room with me?” Octavia asked. She was daring him to answer her.

“Depends,” Mac said, just as capable in asking daring questions. “Am I sharing a room with my marefriend?”

Octavia blew a puff of air to move a stray strand of her mane away from her face. She remained silent, and they both had their answers. That was fine by Macintosh. He would never push Octavia into a decision, yet he was ready to move on and hoped she would make up her mind soon. She seemed so willing to take their relationship to a more intimate level, but shied away from any sort of commitment and formality. In the end, he simply shrugged, knowing full well that a pony’s mystery was their own, and it was quite rude to try and decipher it.

On the way to the train station they passed by the library. Music blasted from within, and through the lighted windows Mac could see the silhouettes of dancing ponies. It looked like Dash’s impromptu party was in full swing. He wondered if he should pop in to say goodbye, but ultimately decided against it. There was no need for it. He would be back in Ponyville soon enough, amongst his friends and family. He knew where to find them, and he knew that they would always be there to help him.

He hoped they knew he would be there for them as well.

19. City Slicker

City Slicker

Mac woke before the sun. There was much work to do today. His apartment was still as he dragged himself out of bed. He didn’t have the layout perfectly memorized yet, and he stubbed a hoof on the corner of the kitchen island. Swearing beneath his breath, Mac tied on an apron Octavia had bought for him as a little welcoming gift.

His apartment was similar to Octavia’s but had an additional floor, though not a complete story. A loft, Octavia had called it, though Mac liked to call it an interior balcony with its only door leading to another guestroom that Octavia had forgotten about. The stairs leading up to the second floor also went down into Octavia’s apartment. At least, they had before Mac cobbled together a trapdoor that could be locked like an ordinary door.

Macintosh chuckled to himself as he wiped off the orange peels Octavia had left on the dining table last night and extended out the table’s leafs to sit more ponies. The trapdoor protected his privacy. Octavia had a bad habit of walking around willy-nilly without even inviting herself in as if she owned the place. Well, she did own the place, but he still paid rent, damn it.

Mac shook his head and refocused his mind back on task. He set out every pot and pan he had pilfered from Octavia’s kitchen during the past week, as well as about a dozen cookbooks, on the granite-top island in the center of the kitchen. He opened his fridge, only to snap out a hoof to catch a falling gallon of milk. He tried to put it back, but the fridge was ready to burst with the amount of ingredients he had bought yesterday. Putting the milk aside for a moment, he took out everything and began separating by recipe.

It wouldn’t be easy cooking a brunch for eleven guests, but where would the fun be if it was? He closed his eyes and remembered the menu he would be preparing for brunch. He wanted to really outdo himself this time. He had invited all of his friends to this little housewarming party, and he wanted all of them to see how happy he was here, especially Applejack.

It had been a week since he had moved to Canterlot, and he hadn’t seen most of his friends since. In fact, the only other pony he had contact with had been Rarity. She had shown up to ask him on a date a few days ago at the same cafe she had brought him to when they’d attended the art exhibit so many months ago. It had been a nice lunch, though the conversation they had had been a bit...serious. Mac shrugged and pushed the memory from his mind. There was work to do.

The kitchen grew hotter as the ovens began to preheat, and soon a thin layer of flour dust covered every surface of the kitchen. Mac whipped, kneaded, and rolled, silently thanking Applejack for the fresh basket of apples she had sent him. A couple of apple pies would be the perfect finish to the meal. He slipped the pies into the ovens first, knowing full well they would take the longest to cool after baking. He smiled as he spied on the apple-filled pastries. Out of everything he was preparing they would surely be the most plain, but maybe that’s what made them so special. After all, why mess with a classic?

The sun rose as his work continued, and rays of bright yellow light pierced the balcony's glass doors. Amidst the flurry of simmering sauces, sticky doughs, and sliced fruit, Macintosh set a pair of plates and matching sets of utensils on the table. Octavia would be coming for breakfast soon, a daily ritual she had developed during Macintosh’s first morning in Canterlot.

Living so close to Octavia for a week had allowed him to pinpoint her favorites. The mare loved her sweets, especially for breakfast, and so when he made her pancakes (as he did today) he made sure to top them with whipped cream, chocolate syrup, powdered sugar, and plenty of glazed strawberries. He stacked up the pancakes at Octavia’s end of the table, the side shaded from the early morning sun. He set down a freshly pressed bowtie beside her mug of coffee sweetened with honeyed cream. On his own sunny side of the table he laid out a simple bowl of oatmeal garnished with blueberries. Brunch was only about three hours away, but Octavia had quite the appetite, and Macintosh didn’t plan to eat all that much anyway.

Summoned by the smell of breakfast, Octavia appeared from Mac’s guestroom and took a deep whiff of the air. It had taken Macintosh a while to figure out the optimal time for breakfast. The early morning sharpened Octavia’s tongue to an edge even he found too much to bear. Too late however, and not even her favorite meal could overcome her desire to sleep in. Ten o’ clock proved the perfect time. A time that found her civil and grateful.

Except today.

Today Octavia glared at her whip-topped pancakes as if they had insulted her talent and her intelligence. She grit her bared teeth at the stack, and Macintosh watched without a word as he set a pitcher of apple juice, another gift from Applejack, on the table.

Octavia took her plate and switched it with Mac’s bowl of oatmeal. She took a large spoonful of the goop and began to eat in silence. Macintosh sat to her right but didn’t touch the pancakes. He didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but there were more important matters to deal with than his preferences.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked.

“Fancy Pants cancelled my performance at his bachelor auction.”

“Really? I’m real sorry to hear that,” he said.

Octavia shrugged. “If this had been the first instance then I’d be happy to keep the deposit and enjoy the day off, but the cancellations keep coming. I haven’t played a gig this entire week.” She lifted her head from her bowl and glared at the syrup-soaked pancakes. “I don’t deserve such a divine, fattening breakfast.” She finished her oatmeal and tipped the bowl over. “Even this oatmeal is too delicious for me. Make me a bowl of rice gruel, would you? The more bland and watery, the better.”

Mac smiled at her and pushed the plate of flapjacks toward her. “C’mon now. You ain’t gotta earn a good breakfast. There’ll be more gigs soon, I know it. Heck, even if there ain’t, you’re plenty smart enough to figure out a way through it.”

Octavia eyed the pancakes, still hungry, and Mac pushed the plate even closer to her. She sighed, grabbed her fork, and dug in. Macintosh smiled as she ate and brought the empty bowl to the sink to wash.

“Apparently,” Octavia continued with a mouthful of breakfast, “there’s a new cellist in Canterlot. One that’s ‘easy-going’ and ‘a pleasure’ and isn’t ‘terrifying’ and ‘foul-mouthed’. No matter, I’ll just have to deal with them tonight.”

The intercom buzzed before she could elaborate further, not that Big Macintosh wanted to hear any more. He wanted plausible deniability. With a small smile, he went to the metal panel beside the door, and pushed the button to the speaker.

“Eeyup?”

“Macintosh, sweetie, it’s me,” Rarity’s garbled voice said. Macintosh pushed the unlock button for the entrance for only a split second and waited. “Macintosh, you didn’t hold it long enough,” Rarity’s voice came again. Mac pushed it again just as quick. “Macintosh!” And again. “Macintosh, do you really wish to annoy your tailor?”

“Forgive him, Rarity,” Octavia said, appearing beside Macintosh and pushing the button to speak. “He still hasn’t quite mastered the door yet.” She smirked and pressed the button for a fleeting moment.

“Octavia!”

Mac and Octavia stifled giggles and took turns pressing the unlock button for much too short a time. It was good to see Octavia laugh. They continued to press the button until a few vicious knocks struck the front door.

Octavia sidestepped in front of the door and tapped a few knocks back. Mac placed a hoof on her shoulder, caught her gaze, and shook his head. The knocks returned louder, and light blue magic enveloped the hinges. Mac hurried to unlock the door and opened it wide. He didn’t want to get sidetracked from preparing his brunch by any emergency repairs.

Rarity leaned against the doorframe, a foreleg slung across her head in a dramatic pose while saddlebags, stuffed with fabric, burdened her.

“Why do you love torturing me?” Rarity asked. Her eyes closed, tone thick like dialogue ripped from a television soap. She sashayed into the room, past Octavia and Mac. “Have I been anything but kind to you? I even came here to prepare your outfits for the bachelor auction not eight hours away, all for free. And yet this is how you treat me. Why oh why? Was breaking my heart not enough?”

Macintosh chuckled and pressed his cheek against hers. “Sorry there, sugarcube, we were just havin’ fun.”

Octavia did the same to Rarity’s other cheek. “Yes, harmless fun, that’s all. If there’s anything we can do to make it up to you please hesitate to ask.”

“Well, since you’re offering,” Rarity said with a smirk. “Macintosh, you can give me a little sample of today’s brunch. Octavia, you can take five steps away and tell me any gossip you might have while I ensure the fit of your dress. We have so much to do before the others show up. I can craft a high quality suit in a matter of days, but a suit and a dress along with six other outfits? If it were anypony else...well, I dare not entertain the thought.”

“How is my dress, by the way? Were the measurements I sent enough?” Octavia asked as she went to the center of the living room, Rarity close behind.

“We’ll see in a moment, dear, but might I say I love your choice of fabric.” Rarity levitated the dress, a black, extravagant mass of drapery and lace, onto Octavia and kept a tape measure and a few pins floating beside her, as well as keeping a couple of pins in her mouth. “Black satin. A rather fitting cloth, if I do say so myself. As dark as your soul and as smooth as your tongue.”

“You flatter me.”

Macintosh smiled as he prepared a small plate of halved strawberries. He took a tiny bowl and spooned in a dab of vanilla-infused ricotta cheese, whipped until light and airy, drizzled with deep amber honey. “If I didn’t know any better I’d call you two friends.”

“Bite your tongue before I bite it for you,” Octavia said.

Rarity giggled and began her work of tightening and loosening the garment into a perfect fit. She placed pins to hold the cloth in place, and wrote the needed alteration into a hovering notebook. Every so often she would take her eyes away from her work for a moment to admire the room around her.

“Macintosh, you’ve done such a marvelous job turning this apartment into a home.” Rarity gestured at the various framed paintings on the walls as she trimmed excess fabric from the hem of the dress. “Such beautiful artwork.” She stared at one painting in particular that hung over the mantle: the Canterlot skyline at night, void of both the moon and stars but lit with the windows of the skyscrapers and castle towers.

“Macintosh painted them,” Octavia said.

“Really? My goodness, Macintosh, to think you’ve gotten so much better in only a week,” Rarity said.

“It’s absolutely sickening how quickly he learns,” Octavia said.

Macintosh shrugged and set the plate of fruit on the coffee table beside Rarity. “I just do it for fun. It was Octavia’s idea to hang ‘em up.”

“Speaking of which,” Rarity said. “How is living right below Macintosh treating you, Octavia?”

“Fine, just fine, although I’m not as below as I would li–ow!” Octavia shot Rarity a glare. A small pin floated in the air, engulfed in blue magic, just above Octavia’s backside.

“So sorry, sweetie,” Rarity said with an innocent smile. “It must have slipped.”

“I’m about to let things slip,” Octavia muttered under her breath. “Don’t get cocky just because you had that little date with him at the beginning of the week.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Rarity said.

Macintosh rolled his eyes with a smile. He actually missed their little quips at each other. Of course, he would enjoy them much more if he wasn’t the reason for their sharp barbs at each other, but it all seemed in good fun, and so he said nothing to them about it.

A strawberry floated above the dish and dipped itself into the ricotta. Rarity rolled the pins to one side of her mouth and used the other to bite into the strawberry. She closed her eyes and hummed her approval.

“Absolutely delicious,” Rarity said. “If this is a sample, then I cannot wait to taste the entire meal. Also, Macintosh, I hear you have quite a selection of high-profile guests attending.”

“Eeyup,” Mac said. “Got the usual mares, of course. Then there’s Fancy Pants, been meaning to catch up with him since I moved out here. Prince Blueblood, I sent an invitation to him as a joke, but he accepted it. And Soarin and Spitfire are comin’ over too since they’re heading over here for the bachelor auction anyway.”

“My my, when did you become such a high-society socialite?” Octavia said with a smirk.

“Beats me,” Mac said. He went back to his cooking. “Are the others on the way, Rarity? I remember you sayin’ they wanted to come a bit early to see me.”

“Oh yes, they should be arriving any moment now. You left so suddenly they wanted to see you as soon as possible, especially a certain cyan pegasus.”

“Aw well, truth be told I can’t wait to see her either,” Mac said with a smile.

“Yes, well, I wish you good lu–” A knock came from the balcony window and interrupted Rarity.

Pinkie Pie had her face smushed against the glass, her cheeks and nose distorted in silly faces, and Mac had to stifle his laughter. She had five balloons tied around her midsection and the strings had slipped down her barrel, lifting her backside up into the air. As Mac went to the window to let her in he thought that perhaps her mouth’s suction on the glass was the only thing keeping her secured to the balcony.

Mac opened the balcony doors and pulled her in. She had all the weight of a crabapple. Pinkie Pie wrapped her forelegs around Mac and nuzzled his neck. “Hey there, Macky! I missed you sooo much.” Macintosh smiled as her cotton candy mane engulfed his snout, filling his nose with the familiar scent of sugar and vanilla. He had missed her too.

“Oh, I get it,” Octavia said. “I attempt a crass remark and get a prick in the flank, but Pinkie Pie comes and practically–”

Rarity touched the tip of Octavia’s nose to quiet her. “Oh, sweetie. If this is how you react to Pinkie Pie then I can’t imagine your reaction when Rainbow Dash arrives.”

Macintosh pretended not to hear them. “What’s goin’ on, Pinkie?” he asked her. Her forelegs were still wrapped tightly around his neck as an anchor keeping her from floating off to the ceiling. “Why’re ya as light as a feather?”

“Cause it’s fun!” Pinkie Pie said. “Also because I needed help carrying your house warming gift here. Twilight offered to teleport it here, but that sounded boring, so I told her to put a featherweight spell on me and the cake. I tied a few balloons to me and the cake and voila! Pretty cool, right? Except I lost the cake in a jet stream between Ponyville and Canterlot, it might be in Manehattan by now, but it was this really great ice cream cake with–”

“Sounds delicious, Pinkie.” Mac interrupted her before he could lose himself in her usual rambling. “But I’m just glad you’re here. When’s this spell supposed to wear off?” He looked over at Rarity and gestured up to Pinkie with a hoof. She understood and used her magic to untie the balloons.

“It doesn’t!” Pinkie said with a giggle as she floated to the ground. “I have to wait for Twilight to de-spell me.”

“Sounds like a mighty risky spell to put on ya,” Mac said. “Wasn’t she worried you’d get blown away?”

“That’s why Rainbow Dash came with me, but I lost her in the jet stream too when she went after the cake.”

“Guess that’s my cue,” Rainbow Dash said from the balcony. She leaned against the door frame while wearing a pair of black shades. She wore a cap embroidered with the Wonderbolt insignia, marking her as a new recruit. If asked, Mac would have said she looked cool. Cold even, considering the mounds of chocolate chip ice cream on her back.

Macintosh held back his chuckles as he approached her. He took a dab of ice cream on his hoof and tasted it. Not bad, though he preferred salted caramel.

“Nice to see ya, Dash,” Mac said, taking her sunglasses and hat from her. The sunglasses had been hiding a glare that took him aback for a moment. Well, if he had been covered with ice cream, he supposed he wouldn’t be too happy either. He set her personal effects on the dining table.

“What’s it been? A week? Figured you already went over to Cloudsdale and forgot all about me.” Macintosh chuckled at his own little joke, but his teeth soon clenched. Something ice cold pressed against his stomach and slid its way up his chest. Rainbow Dash crawled out from between Mac’s forelegs, her back still slick with melted ice cream, but the vast majority now stuck to Mac’s underside.

Rainbow Dash looked over her shoulder and gave Mac a scowl. “That’s for not coming to my party.”

Mac stood still, ice cream dripping on the floor. He gave thanks for the simple things in life. Hardwood floors and pony coats, both easy to clean, as well as Rainbow Dash’s love of cider and the ease with which he could bargain for her forgiveness.

All the while Octavia stared at the two of them. “Food play,” she muttered under her breath. “And to think I wasted all my time worrying about you,” She turned to Rarity, but Rarity had finished her fruit half a minute ago and was now levitating a towel to help clean Macintosh off.

Mac grabbed the towel from the air. “Gonna go to the bathroom to clean up.” He slipped away a bit quicker than he intended, but hopefully no one noticed how eagerly he pursued the promise of a few minutes alone.

He closed the bathroom door behind him and started wiping away the ice cream, already half melted and sticking to his coat. He really messed up this time, and perhaps just a bottle of cider wouldn’t be enough. Heck, there may not be an apple beverage that could convince her to forgive him. Ah well, hopefully Dash would simmer down with time. If not, then he was prepared to grovel. He was sure she’d enjoy that. He just hoped Octavia didn’t get the wrong idea. No, wait. Octavia getting jealous? She didn’t seem like the type. Especially if it concerned him.

He couldn’t wait until the others arrived. Twilight had a talent for keeping the others somewhat level-headed, Fluttershy’s very presence offered a calm atmosphere on its own, and Applejack knew how to reel a pony in if they got a bit too carried away. Of course, Applejack had said she might be a little late. He might have to give his gift to Dash a bit earlier than expected, with or without Applejack.

He threw the towel in his hamper and left the bathroom.

“So that’s where you all stand?” Octavia’s voice said.

Mac came out just in time to see everyone nod their heads. Did he even want to know? No, he did not, and so he pretended not to hear a thing. Dash followed Mac with the glare of a scorned mare. Thankfully, there was a buzz at the intercom, and Macintosh trotted over to answer. He pressed the button, and a familiar voice crackled from the other side.

“Hey, big brother, it’s Applejack.”

He held the button for a few seconds and released. He didn’t think Applejack would appreciate his joke like Rarity did. Truthfully, he just wanted them to get into his apartment as quickly as possible. If anyone could help him out of Dash’s ire, Applejack could.

His wish was granted, and it only took about a minute for a knock to come at his door. He opened it, and his eyes widened as he was greeted by a mess of leaves and branches engulfed in magic. He backed off as Twilight levitated a miniature apple tree into the middle of his living room.

“Surprise!” Applejack shouted. Fluttershy followed her in.

“Do you like it?” Fluttershy asked.

Macintosh smiled as he looked at the short stout trunk, with branches heavy with full-sized apples and bursting with large green leaves, planted in a huge ceramic pot. The apples all looked healthy and delicious too. It came from a good stock, no doubt about that. His smile widened as he realized he would have to take care of it. It would be winter soon, and there were dozens of precautions and preventive measures he would have to take.

“I love it,” Mac said. “Let me put it on the balcony, it’ll get plenty of sun there.”

“I’ve got it, Macintosh,” Twilight said, engulfing the tree in her magic again. She levitated it out to the balcony without much trouble.

Mac nodded. He would have to clean up after the fallen leaves, fertilize the soil, and prune the branches. In fact, the tree looked downright tiny on his balcony. It could definitely stand to grow a couple more feet high and a few more inches thick. He could hardly wait to paint it as it changed with the seasons.

Once Twilight finished placing the apple tree, she took a look around the living room and kitchen. “This is a really nice apartment.” Her eyes stopped at a bookshelf large enough to take up an entire wall in the living room. “Glad to see the books and bookshelf I teleported here came in one piece.”

“Eeyup, the boxes of books came okay, but the shelf ended up in the bathtub.”

“Oh, I hope that didn’t cause any trouble for you,” Twilight said.

“It came while I was taking a bath.”

Twilight laughed, but Macintosh only gave her a half lidded stare. Beneath his stoic gaze, Twilight’s laughter crumbled into an awkward, forced chuckle.

Mac broke into a smile. “I’m just teasing,” he assured Twilight, and she relaxed. “But joking aside, work on yer aim. Got the breath squeezed right outta me.”

Twilight blushed and darted her gaze away from him. “S-sorry.”

A hoof pressed into Mac’s ribs. Applejack met his gaze and she darted her eyes toward Rainbow Dash. He gave Applejack a nod. It was about that time, wasn’t it? He cleaned the dining room table and cleared it of dishes, and then he rummaged around his kitchen cabinets. He finally found a gift bag decorated with lightning bolts and clouds and stuffed with blue tissue. He almost forgot where he put the damn thing given that he and Applejack had made sure Rainbow Dash’s gift was up to snuff.

“Y’all gather ‘round,” Applejack said as Mac placed the bag on the table. “Me an’ Mac wanna give Rainbow her gift.”

Rainbow Dash puffed up her wings. “Don’t go thinking you can buy my forgiveness like you can with Rarity,” she said.

“What’d Ah do to get ya so upset?” Applejack asked with a tilt of her head.

“Not you. Mac. He didn’t come to my party, and he was the first one I told. He didn’t even pop in for a quick hello, then we had to find out from Granny Smith that he moved out that night. Just up and left without a ‘see ya later’ or ‘I’m gonna miss ya’ or ‘thanks’ or anything.” Rainbow Dash turned to him and took a few steps toward him. “What the hell, Mac? Why’d you just disappear like that? Geez, made me feel like I wasn’t anypony special, you know?”

Macintosh pressed his lips into a tight line and took a deep breath. “I’m really sorry for making you think for even a second that you didn’t matter to me, sugarcube, and for leaving Ponyville so suddenly. You mean a lot to me, and that’s the honest truth, I just didn’t think you really needed me around anymore.”

Dash sighed. “Mac, you’re an idiot.” She tapped his snout with a hoof. “I don’t need you around. I want you around. You get me?”

“Not really,” Mac said, “but I’ll take it as a compliment. Can you forgive me?”

“It’s cool. I wasn’t all that upset anyway.”

“She’s lying!” Pinkie Pie said with glee. She had managed to grab a balloon and floated an inch off the ground. “You should’ve seen her mope around Sugarcube Corner! All ‘jerkface this’ and ‘numbskull that’ for days!”

“Shut up, Pinkie!” Rainbow Dash said. “L-Let’s hurry up with those presents. I wanna see what you guys got me.”

Macintosh smiled. “Sure thing, sugarcube. I’ll let Applejack go first.”

Applejack nodded and rummaged through the bag. “You best thank me, Rainbow. Applebuck Season just ended, and Ah made sure to pick the very best apples for this.” Applejack pulled out a bottle of apple cider and set it on the table. Rainbow Dash eyed the bottle like Octavia eyed a slice of cheesecake. “The first cider of the new harvest.”

“And this is from me,” Mac said before Rainbow Dash could say anything. He knew full well the predictability of his gift, so there wasn’t much of a point to draw out the suspense. He dipped a hoof into the bag and fished out a bottle of applejack. “I had to swindle some of Applejack’s cider to make this. It’s applejack made from the best cider made from the best apples.”

Rainbow Dash stared at the bottles and then at the Apple siblings. She went to them and wrapped her forelegs around their necks and brought them close. “I love you guys.” She squeezed them tighter. “A lot.”

“Group hug!” Pinkie called out, and soon Applejack and Mac found themselves in the middle of a giant hug. Mac’s cheeks burned and became a bit more crimson than usual.

“You have to be kidding me,” Octavia muttered, staying behind by the balcony door.

-*-

After a tour of his new apartment (and after Twilight undid her spell on Pinky), Rarity showed off her dresses. They were all going to attend, and so Rarity had brought dresses for everyone. The mares awed at their decadently sewn outfits. Once Rarity had her ego properly massaged with dozens of compliments, Macintosh showed her the guest bedroom where she could hang the dresses in the empty closet. They would be ready to go at a moment’s notice.

Afterwards, Rarity focused her attention on finishing Octavia’s dress, and the buzz of conversation centered around Mac as the mares asked him questions about Canterlot. Yes, he enjoyed the mountain air. Yes, he had visited most of the museums and galleries. Yes, the ponies here were mostly friendly, except for a few minor incidents.

Before they could ask about those incidents, Macintosh asked questions of his own. He asked Fluttershy how her animals were doing, and asked Rarity for gossip about difficult clients. He asked Rainbow Dash when she was leaving for training camp, and asked Pinkie how the Cakes were doing. He asked Twilight if she had any recommendations for good, not-too-highbrow poetry.

He asked Applejack about the farm. The apples had the perfect balance of sweet and tart this year, and they sure grew juicy enough to make excellent cider. How were the tree trunks this season? Did they have that familiar spring that sent a recoil up your legs and shook your spine with a pleasing shiver? How were the new farmhands? Were they happy? It wasn’t every day that a pony got the chance to work on the world famous Sweet Apple Acres, after all.

He asked her all these things, and Applejack asked if he missed the farm. He shook his head with a laugh and waved the question away with a hoof.

Though Octavia was in the center of the room, she kept to the edge of the conversation. She watched Mac and the others while Rarity focused on her black satin dress. All the while Mac kept an eye on her. She wasn’t the most sociable pony, obviously, but staying silent was unlike her. Usually in small gatherings like this she would butt in with a quip or two and take delight in the resulting reddening faces. Now, however, she did nothing of the sort. He shrugged the thought away. He was absolutely certain that Octavia would go back to her old self once the other guests arrived. For now, he would take care of the last little details for his brunch.

The mares sat and talked amongst themselves in the living room, and Macintosh set out a fuller platter of strawberries and dip on the coffee table for his guests to enjoy and poured them drinks. Coffee for Applejack, Dash, and Octavia; tea for Rarity, Fluttershy, and Twilight; and a soda for Pinkie Pie. He placed each one on the coffee table as well without making a sound or distracting from their conversation.

Macintosh arranged the plates and utensils around the dining table, and just when he finished placing the last fork, Rarity proclaimed her latest dress finished and freed Octavia from the black satin.

“Thank you, Rarity,” Octavia said. She gulped down her coffee. “I’m actually rather impressed by the design.”

“Why thank you,” Rarity said with a proud grin. Octavia’s dress floated across the room and into Mac’s guest bedroom to hang with the others. “Of course, designing a dress for one of Equestria’s top musicians was quite an honor.”

Mac smiled at their civility, but he didn’t have much time to enjoy it. Rarity wrapped the measuring tape around Mac’s neck and pulled him onto the center of the room. Rarity ducked her head to look at the measurement.

“I don’t have enough time to fit the suit as I measure, I hardly have time to remove your apron, but I can still get your proper measurements and with those the fitting will...go by...quicker...” Rarity’s voice trailed into nothing as she stared at the tape. She unwound it from his neck and shook her head. She took his foreleg and wrapped the tape around his fetlock, then around his stomach. She gazed at the tape for several long moments. The gears in her head worked at a fever pitch.

“Everything alright, Rarity?” Mac asked.

Rarity jerked her gaze away from the tape, and her eyes went from Macintosh to the other mares in the room and then back to Macintosh. They all stared at her, curious. “Oh, it’s nothing. Nothing at all. I was simply visualizing the alterations I would have to make.” Rarity tossed away her measuring tape. “Anyway, Macintosh sweetie, how has the move treated you? Moving can put so much stress on a pony, especially when moving to higher elevations with thinner air. Any dizziness? Fainting spells? Nausea? General weakness?”

Macintosh shrugged. “None of that. I’ve actually felt pretty great the past week.” The intercom buzzed before he could say more. Macintosh hurried to the speaker and pressed the button to greet the pony on the other side.

“Eeyup?” Mac said.

“Oi, Mac! It’s Soarin along with Spitfire and Fancy Pants–”

“Hey, Mac! How’s it goin’?”

“Spit, there’s plenty of time for small talk once we’re outta this cold. Oh, Mac, there’s also some really frilly-maned guy here I don’t really recognize.”

“You know exactly who I am you feathered imbecile,” Prince Blueblood’s annoyed voice garbled through the speaker. “Don’t think your celebrity status will make me so lax to such unseemly treatment.”

“Mac, uh, did you really invite this guy?” Soarin whispered into the intercom. “He seems kind of...on edge.”

“Move over!” Prince Blueblood commanded. “Listen here, you crimson cretin, let me in this instant. It’s bad enough you had the gall to invite me to your little hoedown, as you farm folk are apt to call these things, but to make me stand in this freezing autumn wind is simply deplorable!”

“Now now, Blueblood, a little patience if you’d please,” Fancy Pants said.

“Yeah, you’re really gettin’ on my nerves, pretty boy,” Spitfire said.

“How dare you–”

Macintosh released the button and pressed the other to let them in. Spitfire, Soarin, Fancy Pants, Blueblood, Octavia. He had, at first, been worried that the Elements of Harmony might be a bit too much for them. Now, he wondered if perhaps they were too much for the Elements of Harmony. Aw well, it would definitely make for an interesting brunch.

A knock came from the door, and Macintosh held his breath as he grabbed the doorknob. At that moment he felt like a radical artist. A painter mixing two clashing colors on the same canvas, a writer switching tenses in the same paragraph, a chemist about to mix two volatile chemicals. And yet he was deathly curious to see the unique havoc about to be wrought.

He opened the door, and the rest of his guests poured in as Macintosh welcomed them. Fancy Pants and the Wonderbolts attracted their own groups of conversation as the Elements of Harmony went to say their hellos. Blueblood didn’t have such magnetism, and so Macintosh brought it upon himself to greet the prince.

“Howdy, Blueblood,” Mac said. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yes, well, consider yourself fortunate that you caught me on one of my very rare free days.” Blueblood didn’t make eye contact, and instead examined Mac’s apartment with narrowed eyes. “You have a very...quaint home. Landscapes are a bit cloying and clichéd, undaring and eager to please, but I suppose you of all ponies would play it safe with your choice of art.”

“A pleasure as always, Blueblood,” Mac said.

“I agree,” Blueblood said, either ignorant or uncaring of Mac’s obvious sarcasm. “Now what sort of gruel do you plan on feeding us?”

An oven dinged, and Mac was grateful for the chance to get back to preparing his brunch. “I’ll have all the food out in just a few minutes. Then you can see for yourself,” Mac said. He turned to the others and caught their attention with a quick whistle. “Go ahead and sit down wherever ya like, everypony, the food’ll be ready real soon.”

“Do you need any help, Macintosh?” Twilight asked, her horn already glowing.

“Nnope,” Mac said. “It’ll be more dramatic if I reveal the dishes one at a time.” Most of the food was already in family-sized platters, and Macintosh took his time bringing each dish to the table, announcing the food as he set down the large plates. Apple cinnamon pancakes, fresh fruit salad, scrambled eggs, baskets of biscuits along with a boat of mushroom gravy, mixed berry muffins, more of the strawberries with ricotta dip, hushpuppies, quiche, a basket of whole apples, hashbrowns, and finally–

“A soufflé!?” Blueblood said. “You made a soufflé?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said proudly. “Spinach and cheese.”

“Ha!” Blueblood snickered. “An impressive amount of food, I will admit. But such quantity must inevitably be followed by a drop in quality. So this soufflé can’t live up to its good looks.” Blueblood sliced into the soufflé and served himself, and Macintosh removed his apron, slipped on an old suit jacket he hid on a hook magnetized to the side of the fridge, and took a seat at the end of the table. Blueblood took a forkful into his mouth. He chewed it for several seconds, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled it slowly.

“It is...acceptable,” Blueblood said through clenched teeth.

Macintosh chuckled. “You heard him, everypony. It’s got the Blueblood seal of approval, so dig in.”

Dishes were passed, magicked, and thrown in a flurry as everyone went to grab a bit of everything. As Mac expected, Octavia had a pile of food on her plate, neatly stacked like a miniature skyscraper, but she wasn’t the only one. Rainbow Dash and the Wonderbolts also had piles of food, as did Pinkie Pie and Applejack. The others had more...civil portions on their plate. Mac just hoped he made enough.

He grabbed an apple and bit into it. He leaned back on his chair and enjoyed the sight of ponies enjoying the fruits of his hard work. Once everyone had their food, conversation of polite volume sprung up from the table. Mac smiled. If this wasn’t nice, then he didn’t know what was.

“Macintosh,” Blueblood said, tipping the boat of white gravy toward him. “What is this?”

Mac quirked an eyebrow. “It’s mushroom gravy.”

Blueblood stared at Mac. “Are we supposed to drink it?”

“You pour it on the biscuits to make biscuits and gravy,” Mac explained.

“Biscuits and gravy?” Blueblood took a biscuit and poured gravy over it. He grimaced at the sight of the combination, but took a fork to it nonetheless. He swallowed and nodded. “Ah, yes, I understand. Biscuits and gravy. A provincial dish, no doubt, but...also acceptable.”

“Mac, everything tastes great,” Soarin said through a mouthful of pancakes. “I can’t believe a guy that cooks as good as you is single.” Soarin tapped his chin and stared at Mac for a moment. “You are single, right? Because sometimes I swear it’s like you're dating everypony and nopony all at the same time.”

“Eeyup, still single,” Mac said. “Not for a lack of tryin’ though.”

“Not to worry, Macintosh,” Fancy Pants said. “That is what bachelor auctions are for, after all.”

“I can hope,” Mac said with a smile. “How’s it all work, anyway? I ain’t embarrassed to say that I get more nervous the closer we get to it. Just thinking about standin’ up in front of so many ponies that probably won’t bid on me gives me shivers.”

“Oh there’s absolutely nothing to be nervous about. It’s a silent auction. Things tended to get rather...unseemly when we used the traditional bidding system. I’m sure a successful stallion such as yourself has nothing to fear. As well, I’m quite proud to say that the bachelor auctions I organize not only raise large sums for charity, but they have also led to a very high number of happy marriages.” Fancy Pants squinted his monocle-clad eye in thought. “In fact, I’ll position you as this year’s ‘Featured Bachelor’. Since the very first auction, the featured bachelor has always gone on to happily marry their highest bidder.”

“Wait, really?” Soarin said. “What about last year with Silver Sling? He was as straight as an arrow and his top bidder was a stallion.”

“Was Silver Sling last year’s featured bachelor?” Blueblood asked with a roll of his eyes.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Then he’s happily married to that stallion.”

“Oooo, can’t beat a testimonial like that,” Pinkie Pie said. “I’ll bid on you, Macky. Then your apple pie recipe will finally be mine.” Pinkie wringed her fetlocks together with a maniacal laugh.

Macintosh smiled. “I’d take you a bit more seriously if you didn’t have syrup all over your muzzle.”

“Wanna lick it off?” Pinkie asked with a wave of her eyebrows.

Macintosh almost choked on a bite of apple.

“Everypony and nopony, all at the same time,” Soarin whispered to Spitfire loud enough for everyone to hear.

Rainbow Dash decided to enter the conversation too. “Now that you mention it, Pinkie, I get a pretty nice stipend while I’m at training. Maybe I’ll bid too, you know, since it’s for charity and all.”

“Why don’t you all bid at the auction,” Octavia said. “Perhaps if you all had mates of your own you would stop bothering to come here to steal Mac away from...his free time.”

“You kidding?” Applejack said with a laugh. “Then he would have twice as many mouths to feed during these get-togethers.”

“I wouldn’t mind none, either,” Mac said with a smile.

“Are you quite sure you need to be the featured bachelor?” Blueblood said with a huff. “There are other stallions, stallions without an entourage of celebrity mares, that could be featured.”

“Stallions like you?” Spitfire asked.

“Exactly,” Blueblood said. “I myself am a hunter of the most elusive treasure we call true love. Oh, I long for the day I find a pony suited to me: beautiful, intelligent, gracious, reserved.” He gave them a wistful sigh and took a bite of pancake.

“Maybe you should bid on Macky too!” Pinkie said.

Blueblood and Macintosh both coughed and spluttered through their food. Macintosh thumped his chest. At this rate, Pinkie was sure to kill him.

“Aristocratic!” Blueblood said. “They must be aristocratic.”

“Aw, well, now you’re just being picky,” Pinkie said.

“I hate to say it, but Blueblood’s got a point,” Mac said. “I’m sure there’s other bachelors that need all the luck they can get.”

“Hold on, Macintosh,” Twilight said. She turned to Fancy Pants. “You said that the featured bachelor has a high chance of being happily married. Do you have any hard numbers behind that?”

“Well, allow me to do a bit of math,” Fancy Pants stroked his mustache. “There have been eight so far, and every featured bachelor is happily married except for that one year where the bachelor’s wife found out he participated without her knowing, so that would be...”

“Eighty-seven and a half percent success,” Macintosh said. “Not bad, but the small number of auctions makes it hard to see it more than a lucky happenstance. If there’d been a hundred auctions then that would be something.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Twilight said. “With that said, though, I think you should do it, Macintosh. It’ll be fun, and I’m sure you’ll raise a lot of bits. Canterlot has a really high ratio of mares to stallions. Not to mention that you’re...you.”

“Yeah, Mac,” Soarin said. “I know I would bid on you, and I don’t think Spitfire would even mind.”

“I would, but maybe not as much as if it were another stallion,” Spitfire added.

“Aw heck, y’all are set to make me blush my cheeks right off my face,” Big Mac said with a smile. “Still, I ain’t too sure of how successful I would be at the auction. I mean, I’m sure the ponies of Canterlot are expectin’ a lot from the bachelors. Sure, I live in Canterlot now but, well, I ain’t no Fancy Pants.”

“That’s the most sensible thing you have ever uttered,” Blueblood said.

“Nonsense,” Fancy Pants said. “Undoubtedly, the ponies at attendance are used to certain accoutrements, but that’s no reason to think you would show poorly.”

“Yeah, big brother,” Applejack said. “You’ll do fine. Heck, if yer really worried about it I could teach ya how to talk with a big city accent.”

Blueblood laughed. “And what would you know about such accents?”

Applejack smirked. “Why, Prince Blueblood, I am well-versed in the various elocutive stylings of ponies currently residing in the grand city of Manehattan, for I have spent quite some time there with my dear Aunt and Uncle Orange. More noble ponies do not exist, I assure you.”

Blueblood’s jaw dropped, and Mac flinched. For some reason, Applejack’s Manehattan accent always made his stomach turn. It sounded so unlike her. A false persona, a lie, coming from the Element of Honesty. Octavia asked Applejack where she got her high class accent, and as Applejack recounted the tale of her cutie mark, Macintosh’s gaze wandered. He didn’t much like hearing that story. He caught sight of his apple tree out on the balcony and the Canterlot skyline beyond. He pressed his lips together in a thoughtful frown, and finished his apple.

He moved to place the core onto his plate but found a stack of pancakes there, drizzled in syrup with a dab of butter on top. Macintosh raised an eyebrow and looked down the table. The pancakes were all the way on the other side. Mac then looked at the ponies seated, specifically the unicorns and Pinkie Pie. All of them were paying attention to the current conversation, none of them even looked in his direction.

Well, he couldn’t let good pancakes go to waste. So with a quiet promise to keep a careful watch on his plate, Macintosh grabbed his fork and tucked in. The conversation flowed smoothly even without Macintosh acting the gracious host, and so he relaxed a bit and listened in without the pressure of adding to the topic.

“So Soarin’s a bachelor too?” Rainbow Dash asked. “How’s that work?”

Spitfire shrugged. “I mean, I could just donate some bits, but it boosts his confidence to have ponies pay to spend time with him, and a confident Soarin is a focused Soarin, and as captain of the Wonderbolts I have to do whatever it takes to make sure my vice captain is performing at the top of his game.”

“Whatever it takes,” Soarin repeated, draping his foreleg over Spitfire.

“Plus I want to donate his fair market value,” Spitfire said, “and it’s interesting to see what other stallions I could get for the same price.”

“Good luck,” Soarin said with a grin. “We both know me being a Wonderbolt artificially inflates my value. If I’m not careful they’re gonna put me away for securities fraud.”

Mac smiled as the conversation continued. He ate his pancakes at a leisurely pace, and by the time he finished eating so had everyone else. There was nothing left but empty dishes, and Macintosh got up and cleared the table. He placed the dirty dishes in the sink to wash later, and brought back his apple pies and several glasses of coffee and tea. He presented the pies amidst loud cheers from Pinkie Pie, and after setting down a bowl of sugarcubes and a small, porcelain pitcher of cream, Mac returned to his seat.

The talk remained small but easy for another hour as the ponies sipped their drinks and ate apple pie. Finally, Fancy Pants peered at his pocket watch and closed it with a snap.

“My oh my, I really must be going to put the finishing touches on the auction,” he said. He stood up and gave Macintosh a bow. “Thank you for inviting me into your home and preparing such a delectable brunch. I do hope you’ll invite me over again soon.”

Macintosh stood as well. “It was nice having you over. That goes for all of ya.”

“Thanks Mac,” Spitfire said. “We gotta get going too. We still have to get dressed and such. We should have you over at Cloudsdale sometime. We won’t be able to cook for ya, but we have some damn good bars over there. But you already know that, huh?”

Macintosh smiled. “Eeyup.”

They said their drawn out goodbyes and Spitfire, Soarin, Fancy Pants, and Blueblood left in good spirits. Macintosh closed the front door behind them. A job well done if he could say so himself. He needed to invite them again soon. Just not too soon.

“What an enlightening visit,” Octavia said. She fought back a yawn. “I’m going to take a nap. I’m using your guestroom, Macintosh. The one that doesn’t have all the dresses inside its closet.”

“A nap?” Rarity asked. “But the auction starts in just a few hours.”

Octavia shrugged. “Then I’ll arrive late.”

“Late? But Octavia–”

“Rarity!” Octavia snapped. She turned and bared clenched teeth for a moment before taking a deep breath and regaining her composure. She moved a stray strand of her mane behind her ear. “We can’t all be little, precious debutantes flouncing on our tippy-hooves and fluttering our eyelashes at all the attractive mares and stallions, now can we? I am tired and need a nap if I am to be civil and demure at the auction. If I am late, then I am late. I’ll simply meet with you all later. I assure you I know the way.” Octavia turned to the other mares, all of them staring at her. “Ladies.”

Octavia went into the upstairs guestroom and slammed the door, and Rarity huffed in frustration. She paced around the room in a heated seethe, mumbling unkind and unladylike things beneath her breath. Mac smiled and placed a gentle hoof on her shoulder, putting himself in the crossfire of Rarity’s glare. Mac remained undaunted.

“Still gotta fit me for my suit, right? An awfully nice suit. Probably your best,” he said.

Rarity released all her frustrations in a sigh. “Yes, I suppose I do.” She turned to the others. “Girls, if you could all dress in the downstairs guestroom, I’ll style your manes and tails right after I’m done with Big Macintosh’s tuxedo. Feel free to gossip without me.”

“Sure thing, Rare,” Applejack said. “C’mon everypony, let’s give these two some privacy.”

Rarity rolled her eyes but said nothing while the others went to put on their dresses. They closed the door behind them, and Macintosh and Rarity were left alone in the silent living room. Rarity wasted no time in fetching Mac’s unfitted suit, undressing him, and draping the new suit on him.

“I try, Macintosh. I really do try,” Rarity said, and Macintosh didn’t need to ask her what she meant. “But I just don’t understand her. One day she looks at me like dirt beneath her hooves and the next day we’re having a deep conversation in the spare bedroom at Sweet Apple Acres.”

“Deep conversation?” Macintosh repeated.

Rarity shrugged. “Oh, the usual. Hopes, dreams, futures. She had some lovely things to say about you, and we even made a guess as to how many bits you’ll bring at the auction.” Rarity levitated Mac’s suit jacket to him and helped him put it on. “How has she been with you?”

Macintosh hummed in thought. He gestured a hoof toward the room upstairs that Octavia just went into. “She’s slept in that room every night since I got here. She’s got her cello in there.” Mac looked around the room. “Those’re her pots and pans in my kitchen and her groceries in my fridge. Her apartment’s just a floor below me, but she still brought all her books and put ‘em on my bookshelf. See that recliner? She had me bring it up. Just woke up one day and told me to get it.”

“It sounds as if she’s put you through a lot of trouble.”

Macintosh smiled. “Ain’t no trouble at all. I really enjoy her company, and I think she likes mine. Which is really sayin’ something since Octavia ain’t really good with other ponies. She likes to be alone.”

Rarity nodded. “It certainly sounds as if things are going well. Have you two...” Rarity paused for a moment with her eyes up and to the left in thought, “...made things official? I was so confused during the conversation at brunch. I thought you two might have wanted to keep it a secret.”

“Aw, well...” Macintosh trailed off and tried to think of good words. “She’s made it pretty clear that she ain’t interested in a traditional relationship. She wants to keep things...physical. We’re just looking for different things, is all. Until one of us changes our mind we’re just friends.”

“I see,” Rarity said. “And I suppose you’ve been trying to convince her to do just that?”

“Of course not,” Macintosh said. “It ain’t my place to persuade her into something she doesn’t want, just as it ain’t her place to try to do the same to me. Besides, it ain’t bad being friends with her. She’s fun to talk to.”

Rarity smiled. “Just what I would expect from you. And how have you been since our...well, I suppose we can call it a date despite the object of discussion.”

Mac raised an eyebrow. He would have thought their date would be the last thing Rarity would want to talk about. He proceeded with caution, acutely aware of all the feelings tied into the topic. “Been just fine. You?”

Rarity sighed. “It’s been...difficult.”

They proceeded with the fitting in utter silence. They avoided each other’s eyes, Mac keeping his gaze at the far corner, but eye contact proved the least of his concerns. Simple things Rarity did, things like brushing off a string of lint or pressing down on a pleat, felt like an errant touch that lasted just a moment too long. Why didn’t she just use her magic? It would be so much easier for both of them. But even her touch paled in comparison to her perfume: a light scent that wafted into his nose and reminded him of the first-blooming smells of spring. The sweetness of flowers and the spice of citrus all mixed with the scent of honeyed syrup on her breath.

He remembered that time long ago when he first went to Rarity for a suit. This was much worse. At least then he could attribute his feelings to his general discomfort around ponies he didn’t know. The awkwardness was nothing but him being thrown into an unfamiliar situation. But now he and Rarity knew each other with a greater degree of familiarity. Now the danger came with the risk of becoming too familiar.

Maybe she didn’t feel the same way. Maybe that’s why she managed to stay so composed. He should really stop thinking so much about these things.

Rarity knotted his tie a little too tight. Mac tried to tell her that, but before he could speak their eyes met, and they were caught. Mac knew then that Rarity held the same feelings as him. Rarity held on to his tie and used it to pull him closer to her. Their noses a hair’s breadth away, their mouths slightly agape.

“Rarity,” Mac whispered, “we can’t–”

“I know,” Rarity said, “but isn’t it fun to pretend?” Rarity pulled him in closer, and Macintosh didn’t resist.

A blue cannonball crashed into Mac’s side, knocking the breath out of his lungs and sending him rolling on the floor. He stopped on his back, a weight on his full stomach, and when the room returned to focus he saw a mane of many colors. A pair of eyes stared down at him, eyes the same deep pink of cooked cherries. Mac groaned as he recognized the mare.

“Rainbow Dash, are you insane?” Rarity said. “You’re going to dirty a perfectly excellent suit. Not to mention your horrible timing.”

“Yeah, what’s the big idea, Dash?” Mac asked.

“What? I just saw you wide open and thought I’d catch you off guard. I mean, what’s the big deal? I’ve smacked into ya way harder than that, right?” Rainbow Dash tilted her head and cupped her chin. “You feelin’ okay, Mac? Usually you’re a lot harder to knock down. You’re not going soft on me, are you?”

Macintosh looked at the guestroom door and found it still shut. With a grunt, Mac rolled over and tossed Dash off of him. “I gave up farm work to live in a posh apartment doing nothing but painting the same damn cityscape every day for a week. Of course I’m goin’ soft!” Mac rubbed his side and hissed in pain at the touch. Damn, she had definitely left a mark.

“Are you okay, Macintosh?” Rarity asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Mac said. “Just a bruise is all.” He sighed and rolled his shoulders.

“Wow Mac, I didn’t think I’d hurt you that much. You really are going a bit soft,” Rainbow Dash said. She pressed a hoof against his side, and Mac winced. “Now that you’re out of the farm you’re all...not strong and tough anymore.”

Mac grit his teeth and pushed her hoof away. “If yer trying to apologize then yer doin’ a real bad job at it.”

“Apologize for what?” Rainbow Dash said. “For doing what I usually do around you? Why’re you takin’ it out on me? It’s not my fault you can’t take a tackle anymore.” She glared at him, and Macintosh wondered where the heck all this hostility was coming from.

Macintosh stepped forward, jaw clenched. “Let me get this straight. You knock me down and gimme a pretty big bruise by the feel of it, and you’re actin’ like I’m overreacting? You tryin’ to hurt me on purpose or something?”

Rainbow Dash took a step toward him, ready for a rebuttal, but Rarity’s hoof on her chest stopped her.

“Okay, everypony take a deep breath,” she said, putting herself between Big Macintosh and Rainbow Dash. “Before you get yourselves into a shouting match, think about what exactly this is all about. Because honestly if this had happened a month ago you two would be rolling in a heap on the ground and I would be trying my best to separate the two of you before the others walked in and grossly misread the situation. Now, Macintosh, your suit is just about finished, and so I will go help the others with their manes and leave you two alone to talk things out. All right?” Neither of them answered her. “All right.”

She patted each of their shoulders and went into the guestroom. She glanced back at them before closing the door behind her. The talk of mares faded away as the door closed, and Mac and Dash were left alone.

“Alright, Dash, what’s goin’ on?” Macintosh asked. “Are you still mad at me for not going to your party?”

“No, course not,” Dash said. She turned her back to him and rubbed the back of her neck. “Rarity’s right, you know? If this had happened a month ago we would have rolled around on the ground and had a ton of fun while Rarity’s face got all red.” She looked over her shoulder, a hint of a smile on her lips, but she sighed and it disappeared. “You ever think, Mac, that maybe moving over here wasn’t the best thing to do?”

Mac ran a hoof through his mane. “Let me show you something, Dash.” He led her into the kitchen, and she followed him to a door meant to be the pantry. Mac opened it and revealed dozens of painted canvases stacked on top of each other. The scent of paint hung heavy in the air, and tubes of paint and cups of paintbrushes filled the shelves attached to the inside of the door.

Dash rummaged through the canvases, taking out one of a rainy sky Mac had painted a couple days ago. He had seen a few pegasi manipulating the storm clouds within the gaps between the gray. Nothing resembling an entire pony, only a tail here, a snout there, a pair of eyes there. Those small peeks provided pops of color amongst the dreary sky.

Rainbow Dash touched a painted cloud, as if she could wrangle it herself. “Wow, Mac, this is amazing.” She took the painting and leaned it against the kitchen island. She stared at it for a long time with the same intensity she stared at the actual sky. “Alright, I get it,” Dash finally said after a minute. “If living here makes you paint stuff like this, then I guess it's not so bad.”

Macintosh looked back at the painting-filled pantry. Figures she would pick one of the few unique landscapes he painted, and not one of the dozen of the same blue sky and the same skyline. He looked back at Dash. She was still staring at the painting. He touched his bruised side and sighed.

Mac went up to her, placed a hoof on her side, and rolled her on her back. She gave no resistance, and looked up at him with crimson cheeks.

“Uh, Mac,” she said. “What are you doing?”

“Pinning you down,” Mac said.

Dash gave him a sly smile. “Oh now you wanna play, huh?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said, returning her smile with a smirk of his own. “Gotta admit, it was a lot easier to get ya on your back than I thought.”

“Yeah? Well don’t get used to it,” Dash said. “Next time I’m gonna make you work for it. So you better be ready.”

Rarity cleared her throat to announce her presence, and peered over the kitchen island at them. “If you two are quite done,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Rainbow Dash, everypony is almost ready except for you. Please get changed while I finish Macintosh’s suit. Thanks to you, I need to take extra measures to make sure it’s absolutely pristine.”

Dash shrugged. “What good’s an outfit if you can’t roll around in it. See ya later, Mac.”

While Dash went back into the guestroom, Rarity beckoned Macintosh back to the center of the living room. She continued where they left off. Well, not exactly where they left off, Mac noticed with a relieved sigh. His talk with Rainbow Dash made him realize something. He wanted something from Rarity, and as she double checked the seams on his suit, he stared at her, knowing full well that she would not like the next few words out of his mouth.

“Rarity, would you mind doing me a little favor. It’s a bit personal, and I don’t think yer gonna like me for asking it of ya.”

Rarity quirked an eyebrow at him. “I’m listening.”

“Cut my mane and tail.”

“Absolutely not!” Rarity recoiled from him. “Macintosh, sweetie, darling, you’re gorgeous with a long mane, and you want to cut it all off? It’s insanity, it’s ridiculous, it’s a crime against haute fashion. And you want to do this now? Right before the bachelor auction? Appearing before a mass of sophisticated ponies with a short mane, I can’t even imagine. Are you sure about this?” Before Macintosh could answer she continued on. “Wait! Wait! Before you decide let me show you my notebook. I have pages, pages, of pictures and drawings of styles that would look perfect on you.” Rarity summoned her notebook from her bags and flipped through it, a whirl of photographs and sketches rushed past.

Macintosh placed a hoof on her shoulder, and they met eyes. “I’m sure. It doesn’t suit me, and if there’s anypony that can make short look good it’s the best fashion designer in Equestria.”

Rarity sighed. “I’m afraid you know how to persuade me far too well. All right, I’ll fetch the scissors.” Rarity moved to her bag but only took a step before Mac placed a hoof on her shoulder. She turned to look over her shoulder at him.

“I’m glad you’re my friend,” Mac said, a bit softer than he intended.

Rarity smiled. “Always, Macintosh.”

-*-

The bachelor auction was to take place inside Princess Celestia’s castle, specifically the grand ballroom, a large room ornately decorated with crystal chandeliers that sparkled like stars. Veins of solid gold webbed through the marble floor, and pillars the same height and thickness of hundred-year redwoods lined the far walls, each of them etched with pure white vines encircling them. Soon the lilt of strings would float through the air, prodding shy ponies to dance a waltz of whirling circles.

Now, however, the only ponies there were the twenty-some-odd bachelors, Macintosh and Soarin included, that had to arrive early to take pictures and write something, anything, on a single sheet of cream-colored parchment. Soarin had told Mac that this exercise of freeform expression was just that. It could be a short autobiography, a list of hobbies, even a recipe. Soarin had opted to do what he did every year: sign an autograph. Mac had allowed his mind to wander while trying to think of the best thing to write down. He was still a little embarrassed with what he penned during his little daydream.

Soarin and Mac along with the others walked across the grand ballroom and into a smaller room whose only door was a blue curtain. Tables lined the back and side walls, and on them were framed pictures of each bachelor along with the parchment they filled out. Back and center stood Mac’s picture with a little plaque on the bottom edge proclaiming him the featured bachelor. Beside him was Soarin’s picture and parchment.

“You know,” Soarin said, staring at Mac’s parchment. “When you were all nervous and I told you to just think of a really calming place, I didn’t think you’d actually draw it.”

Mac looked at the sketch of apple trees all full of apples and in a neat row. Beside it was a freshly plowed field, and between the trees and the field, just slightly off-center, was a plow dripping with fresh mud. It had been hard to evoke the earthy, sweet scent with just ink, but he felt as if he had gotten it just right. The dirt felt like the dirt, the apples like apples, and he could almost feel the same wind that swept up the early-fallen leaves of autumn. Mac hoped everyone else would feel the same way as he did when they looked at it.

At least his picture came out alright. He had taken it just after finishing his drawing, and so it was his usual smile accompanied by a half-lidded gaze. Along with his newly cut mane, Macintosh could actually recognize the pony in the picture, even with the tux.

“Get a good look?” Soarin asked. “This is about the only time we’ll be allowed in this room. After the other guests get in it’ll just be bidders only in here.”

“You nervous at all?” Mac asked.

“Nah, but I got a guaranteed date so...” Soarin shrugged with a grin, and the two headed out of the room.

The muffled voices of several ponies came from the other side of the ballroom’s front entrance. Soon the towering double doors would open wide and allow the flood of guests to gush through. Fancy Pants had said that the attendance would reach close to ten ponies per bachelor. Thankfully, not all of them would bid, but a healthily skewed ratio would almost guarantee a lively auction.

Mac tensed his jaw as the doors eased open.

“Hey, pretend you’re talking to me,” Soarin whispered.

Mac raised an eyebrow at him. “Why?”

“I want my first impression to look nonchalant. You know, like I got better things to do.”

“If you had better things to do, then why’d you agree to do this in the first place? It ain’t like anypony forced ya.”

“Well, I don’t really have better things to do. It’s just...it’s the attitude, Mac. The attitude.”

“Soarin, you ever just try acting like a regular ol’ pony. Smiling when somepony makes eye contact and sayin’ a quick ‘how do ya do’?”

Soarin vibrated his lips with a puff of air. “Well, sure, if you want to be straightforward about this whole thing, but I’m a Wonderbolt, I got an image to protect: cool, aloof, sociable but slightly unapproachable. That sort of thing.”

“I ain’t gonna argue that bein’ famous and all makes ponies have this special kinda persona of you, but I am gonna argue that that persona ain’t anything like what you described. Heck, I remember reading an article on ya in the Canterlot Daily. Pretty sure the words ‘childish goofball’ were used.”

“You cut me to the core, Mac, right to the core. That two-bit rag’s got me all wrong.”

“Are you still moping about that article in the Cloudsdale Forecast?” Spitfire came up to the two stallions with a smile brighter than the service medals decorating her chest.

Mac looked around and saw that the doors had been fully opened, allowing bubbles of conversation to percolate across the hall. On the opposite wall, a few ponies with large instrument cases assembled on a platform meant for the musicians. Mac squinted. Was that Applejack amongst them?

“You two should stop talking to each other so much and start talking with potential bidders. How else are you going to rake up bits?” Spitfire continued.

“Hey, I’m doing you a favor,” Soarin said with a smile. “The less I talk the less competition there is, and the fewer bits you’ll have to spend.”

Blueblood coughed to make his presence known, and approached the stallions with a frown. “As the assistant coordinator for this auction, I will remind you that this is for charity. As such, I expect you, both of you, to be suave and debonair while talking to potential bidders. I know that will be difficult for you two, but please, for the love of my aunt, try. Try until your tongues turn silver.”

“I dunno,” Soarin said with a frown. “I think I’d have better luck doing a striptease, and that’s sayin’ something considering that we’re all usually naked to begin with.”

“What in the world do you see in him?” Blueblood asked Spitfire.

She smiled. “What can I say? He makes me laugh.” Spitfire wrapped a foreleg around Soarin’s shoulders and pulled him so close their feathers intertwined. “Plus he’s damn cute, too.” Soarin’s cheeks burned red as a sheepish smile crossed his lips. He nuzzled Spitfire’s neck, and Mac looked away to be polite.

“So Blueblood,” Mac said to distract himself from their display of affection, “I’m kinda surprised you ain’t a bachelor, what with all yer talk about findin’ a special somepony.”

Blueblood sighed with a wistful gaze that stared into nothing. “I’ve tried for several years, but every time all the guests have been too intimidated by me to place even a single bid. I can’t say I blame them.”

“Aw well, I’m sure there’s a pony out there...audacious enough to ask ya out.”

“I can hope,” Blueblood said. For a split second he actually flashed a genuine smile in Mac’s direction, it vanished behind a forced frown. “Excuse me, as much as I love listening to your bumpkin accent, I really should be greeting the guests.” He walked off, and Mac couldn’t help but chuckle. Perhaps there was hope for that royal pain in the flank after all.

Big Macintosh turned back to Soarin and Spitfire. They were rubbing noses together, staring deep into each other’s eyes. Well, Mac wasn’t completely oblivious. He knew when he was being a third wheel.

“I oughta...I’m gonna...go...over there for a while,” Mac said. Neither of them responded, and Macintosh trotted his way toward the musician’s platform where Applejack was busy talking to the cellist of the string quartet. The cellist looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite match the face to a name. Applejack soon noticed her older brother’s approach and waved him down.

“Hey, big brother, look who I found!” Applejack pointed a hoof to the cellist, and Octavia came to mind. They had the same mane style, but while Octavia’s was a dark brown, this cellist’s was cobalt blue along with a yellow coat. Then, all at once, the name and memories came.

“Fiddly Faddle?”

“Hey cuz!” Fiddly said. “Boy, Ah ain’t seen you since we raised up yer barn years ago. What are ya doin’ here, ya big hotshot? Getting in an exclusive soiree like this in Canterlot, in Celestia’s castle no less.”

“Heck, Ah outta be askin’ the same o’ you, cuz,” Mac said with a grin.

“Oh, it ain’t a big thing. Ah just graduated from the music school up in Manehattan, and Fancy Pants invited me to play at this charity thing seeing as how the charity’s the same one that gave me the scholarship to go to school in the first place. Ah came here ‘bout a week ago and decided to play on the street. You know, for ol’ time’s sake, and Ah guess ponies here really like my playin’ ‘cause Ah’ve been gettin’ gigs left and right, and the next thing Ah knew Ah had enough bits to my name to rent a pretty nice place here. So here Ah am, playin’ this gig for charity.”

Macintosh almost forgot how much of a talker Fiddly could be. Mac was about to keep the talk going, but the color drained from his face. She had been in Canterlot for a week. Octavia’s cancellations had started a week ago. They both played the cello.

“Ah gotta hide ya from Octavia,” Mac blurted out.

“Octavia!” Fiddly gasped and covered her mouth. “Is she here? Oh my goodness, do ya know her? Can ya introduce me? Ah’ve been just hopin’ and hopin’ to meet her while Ah’m here. Oh! Oh! I got one of her CDs in my cello case Ah hoped she’d sign.”

Mac sucked in his lips, unsure about what to say. “Listen, sugarcube, about Octavia–”

“What about me?” Octavia’s voice crawled up his back with a shiver.

Octavia stepped beside Macintosh, her black dress billowing around her like a dark cloud. She glared at Fiddly the same way she had glared at breakfast that morning, and Macintosh knew there was going to be trouble.

Fiddly brought her front hooves to her mouth to stifle her squeal of delight. “Octavia! H-Hi there. Ah-Ah’m yer biggest fan and a cellist just like you and-and-and...”

Octavia scoffed. “A cellist just like me? Ha! I never heard such a ridiculous claim. We may play the same instrument, we may even have the same mane, but do not dare, for an instant, believe that you and I are somehow on the same level.”

“Oh no, Ah didn’t mean, Ah would never–”

“Quiet,” Octavia said, and Fiddly covered her mouth.

A small crowd started to form around them, drawn in by Octavia’s loud voice. Mac wanted to slip away from the sudden throng, but he couldn’t just leave his cousin to face Octavia alone. He needed to step in and level out the situation. And he knew just the way to do it.

“Octavia, she’s my cousin,” Mac said.

“I don’t care,” Octavia said. “She has the gall to waltz in here with that poor excuse for a cello and pretend to be a fan of mine? Absolutely despicable.”

“No wait,” Fiddly said. “Ah really am a huge fan. Ah owe everything to ya.”

“Oh really? My what a bold lie. Are you that desperate to trick me? To bring my guard down so I become complacent while you take away all of my business?” Octavia sneered.

“It’s true! Ya probably don’t remember me but you gave me my first cello.”

Octavia froze, eyes wide. She stared at Fiddly for several long seconds, her eyes examining her as if for the first time. Her gaze trailed from Fiddly’s mane to her coat to her tail. Finally, she stepped closer and squinted her eyes.

“It really is you,” Octavia whispered.

Fiddly smiled and nodded. “Back when Ah was just a little filly, and my family was beggin’ on a Canterlot street corner, you gave my parents a bag of bits, and you gave me a cello. Ya leaned in close and ya whispered in my ear, ‘Play it. Play it until your hooves bleed, for the more they bleed the stronger they’ll become. The stronger they become, the easier it will be to crush the drivel of naysayers.’”

“I gave you my cello.” Octavia stared at the ground and shook her head. “That means...that means you’re younger than me! To think, you’re playing professional engagements in Canterlot at the same age I started my first year at university.” Octavia grit her teeth with a growl. “But rest assured, I won’t stand idly by and allow some wunderkind to surpass me.”

“Oh no, please, Ah don’t want ya to think we’re in some competition with each other,” Fiddly said. “All Ah ever wanted was to meet ya and thank ya and...maybe be friends? Why, Ah’d even move back to Manehattan if ya don’t think we can be friends in Canterlot.”

Octavia’s expression softened, and she shook her head. “No, even I am not harsh enough to suggest something like that. Especially since you’re a monster of my own creation.” She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “So...I really helped you, didn’t I?”

“Ya sure did,” Fiddly said, beaming.

Octavia smiled and elbowed Mac’s side. “My my, did you hear that, Mac? I might actually be a good pony.”

Mac wrapped a foreleg around her to put her in a headlock and pressed his cheek against the top of her head. “Might? You helped out my family. You could overthrow Celestia and rule Equestria under a brutal dictatorship, and Ah’d still be singin’ your praises.”

Octavia wriggled her way out of his hold and patted down the stray strands sticking straight out from her head. “It’s good to know your undying loyalty is so easy to earn and so difficult to lose,” Octavia said. “I’ll keep that in mind for later.”

“So then, cuz, Ah reckon it’s yer turn to tell how ya ended up in Canterlot of all places. Last Ah heard, you were runnin’ one of the biggest farms in Equestria,” Fiddly said.

“Aw well, now that’s a long story,” Mac said with a smile. “Ya see–”

“Excuse me,” a stallion in the crowd called out. “You’re one of the bachelors, correct? Did I hear her correctly when she said you ran one of the biggest farms in Equestria?”

Mac’s cheeks burned as he realized how large the crowd around him, Applejack, Octavia, and Fiddly had become. “Well, uh, ‘ran’ is sorta tricky. Ah ran it with my sister, Applejack here, along with the rest of my family.”

“Howdy,” Applejack greeted the crowd with a wave.

“Your sister is the Element of Honesty?” a mare asked.

“Sure is,” Mac said. He coughed to clear the nervous lump growing in his throat. “If ya wanna hear some interesting stories, then believe you me she’s got stories.”

Applejack was about to speak, but another voice interrupted her.

“Hey, Mac!” Rainbow Dash called from the edge of the crowd. She turned away to wave at a familiar group of four mares. “Hey, over here. I found him.”

Rarity, Fluttershy, Twilight, and Pinkie Pie joined Rainbow Dash, and together the five of them traversed the crowd to join Mac and Applejack’s little group in the center. Macintosh felt cool relief swell in his chest. Surely the Elements of Harmony would be enough to pull the crowd’s attention away from him. To make matters better, Rainbow Dash’s shout didn’t just grab the attention of the mares, but also of Blueblood, Fancy Pants, Soarin, and Spitfire, and they all made their way toward him as well. Good. The more ponies that came, the more Macintosh could hide behind.

Rainbow Dash was the first to arrive, and the two met each other’s gaze. Mac had never seen her like this before: all made up with her mane primped and styled. She wore a dress as colorful as her mane, and the hem had thick, white ruffles that made her look as if she rested on a cloud.

“You look beautiful, Dash,” Mac said, his cheeks burning.

“Th-thanks,” Rainbow Dash said, her cheeks turning bright red as well. “You look really good too.” They stared at each other, paralyzed, for another second until Dash looked away and shook her head. She stepped forward and gave Mac a punch on the shoulder. “You sure know how to draw a crowd,” she said with a smile. “Were you tellin’ them about all the crazy shenanigans you get yourself into.”

“Actually, Ah was kinda hopin’ you’d tell them about the time you saved Equestria for the sixth time.”

Blueblood cleared his throat and leaned in close to whisper in Mac’s ear. “While I’m sure that’s a riveting tale, these ponies are here not to bid on your friends, but to bid on you.” Blueblood turned to the crowd and stepped toward them. With a regal stance, a hoof on his chest, he addressed the crowd with a resounding and grandiose voice.

“Ladies and gentlecolts,” he said, “I present you this year’s featured bachelor: Big Macintosh Apple. Feel free to ask him any question you please, and I’m sure he has a tale or two with which to regale you as well. Before all that, however, let him tell you all a little bit about himself.” Blueblood gave Macintosh a smug little smirk, obviously aware of how much Mac didn’t want the attention.

All eyes were on Macintosh now, and the color drained from his face. “Aw well, uh, Ah ain’t all that interestin’. Ah bet any one of ya’s got a better story than Ah do.”

“What’re you talking about, Mac?” Soarin asked. “Why don’t you tell ‘em about the time you and Dash helped us out with those crazy Cloudsdale clouds.” The buzz of the crowd got louder as they muttered their surprise.

“Yeah, Macky!” Pinkie Pie jumped in. “Or how about that time you got the best score in taste at the National Dessert Competition?”

“There’s also the time you, Fluttershy, and I discovered a new species of bird in the Everfree Forest,” Twilight added.

“Oh! Why don’t ya tell us about the time ya won yer farm from ol’ Moonshine in a bet?” Fiddly said. “My mama used to tell that story all the time when Ah was a filly.”

“My goodness, such a storied past,” Fancy Pants said. “And to think I only know you as an artist and art critic. Please, Macintosh, you simply must tell us all these stories. They sound so interesting.”

“You...you really wanna hear them?” Mac asked to the crowd. Their answers came in the form of nods, pleading eyes, and resounding ‘yes’s. Mac gulped. “Alright, Ah guess Ah’ll start from the beginning, back to when Ah was a colt.”

He told them his life story. Not the entire thing of course, they simply didn’t have the time, and so Mac kept only to the exciting and daring bits. He told them of how he won the farm, of getting crushed by a flying apple cart, of being chased by a giant bear-spirit-thing, of climbing the mountain of gusts in the Everfree Forest, of losing the dessert competition, of helping the Wonderbolts.

But most of all, as the night wore on, he told them of working the farm. He told them of how the sun burnt his back during the too-short summers, and how, if he was lucky enough, a breeze would blow through his sweat-drenched coat and send cooling shivers through his whole body. He told them how, during the peak harvest season, the smell of apples was so thick upon the air he could taste the fruit on his lips. He told them of how, after a good rain, his hooves would sink into the mud and make him feel like he sprouted from the very ground. A true earth pony. He told them of the happiness and pride he felt when ponies would eat the literal fruits of his labor, and how, for that one moment, that one meal, he made their lives just a little bit better, just a little bit easier.

“Because a farmer ain’t a farmer ‘cause he likes to eat, or because he likes hard labor, though that might be a part of it. A farmer is a farmer because he likes to feed others. Farming’s just about the only job Ah know of that let’s me carry another pony’s burden. Maybe not all of it, and maybe not for very long, but enough to help.” Macintosh breathed a wistful sigh, and gave Applejack a quick sideways glance. “Eeyup, enough to help.”

“What lovely stories,” Fancy Pants said as he wiped his monocle on his sleeve. He levitated his pocket watch to snout level, and his eyes widened as he read the time. “Goodness gracious, your stories were so enchanting that I completely lost track of time.”

Fancy Pants cleared his throat to refocus the crowd’s attention on him. “Ladies and gentlecolts, there is now only an hour left until bidding closes. Now, I know very few of you have placed a bid so if we may all form an orderly–” His words fell on deaf ears as the ponies bull-rushed the bidding room. Fancy Pants chased after them. “Please, let us all conduct ourselves in a manner we will not be ashamed of tomorrow. Blueblood, I may require your assistance.”

“Right away!” Blueblood said as he trotted to catch up with Fancy Pants, leaving Mac alone with his family, the Wonderbolts, Octavia, and the Elements of Harmony.

“Well, I better get in there and place my bid for Soarin,” Spitfire said.

“Mind if I tag along?” Rainbow Dash asked. “I’ve got some really cool stunt ideas I want to run by you.”

Spitfire smiled. “Yeah, sure. I totally and completely believe that’s why you want to go with me to the bidding room.”

“Allow me to come along,” Rarity said. “I’m sure I would love hearing all about these ‘stunts’.”

“Count me in too,” Pinkie Pie added. “You coming too, Octavia?”

“I suppose I must,” Octavia said. “Though I have absolutely no idea who I might bid on.”

“Wow, Mac, you really stole the show,” Soarin said as the mares walked off. “I’m lucky there’s still a good chunk of ponies that don’t know about you. Gives all the rest of us bachelors an actual chance.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from my big brother,” Applejack said.

“And my cuz,” Fiddly said.

“You guys talk about me too much,” Mac said with a soft smile. He looked at the ground and breathed a weak chuckle, completely exhausted. His throat was sore from talking so much. “They all...looked at me,” he whispered.

“What was that, Macintosh?” Twilight asked.

Mac jerked his head up. “Oh, it wasn’t...Ah was just thinking...” Mac trailed off and thought back to when he was younger. “When Ah was a colt, ponies always looked down on me because of the way Ah talked and where Ah came from. They looked at me and just saw an idiot and a troublemaker. But now...the ponies here, they all looked up at me. Like they admired me. Like they thought I was something special.”

Mac ran a hoof through his mane and tried to swallow the burning lump in his throat. “Ah ain’t anything special. Ah’m just a farmpony. Been pulling a plow since playground days, ain’t even finished elementary school.” Why was it getting harder to breathe? Why did his tie feel so tight?

Big Mac took a deep breath and forced a smile to show the ponies all looking at him with worry in their eyes. “Sorry, Ah just...need some air. Ah’ll be right back, promise.” He held on to his smile as he walked through the front doors and into the courtyard. He kept walking until he was as far away from the castle as possible without leaving the surrounding property. There were no ponies here, and so Mac dropped his smile and took another deep breath and released it with a sigh. He loosened his tie and drew a small bit of comfort from the soft grass beneath his hooves. It was wet, and the smell of fresh earth wafted into his nose.

What the hell was he doing here? Not just in Celestia’s castle, not just in Canterlot, but here, in this moment, in these circumstances. He didn’t deserve any of this. He didn’t deserve to have the admiration of all those ponies. He didn’t deserve to have such good friends. He didn’t deserve to have such pretty ponies actually pay money for a date with him.

Mac sat down in front of a hedge of multicolored flowers and stared at the arrangement of frost lilies and rainbow roses. Actually, there was quite an impressive assortment of flowers. Tulips and chrysanthemums and daisies and orchids, all in several hues and shades, all intertwined together. These colorful flowers sorta reminded him of the ponies back inside the castle. Mac’s gaze trailed down the hedge and to the ground, and he drew random lines into the dark earth. All these pretty flowers, and he, the dirt.

Mac blinked and suddenly everything made sense. He leapt to his hooves. What the hell was he doing here? He needed to get back to the ballroom. Now! He galloped and backtracked through the courtyard. He had gotten his fresh air, and now he needed to find Twilight. He found her still with Applejack and the others, and he hurried to her, and when he rejoined the group they all looked at him, startled and confused.

“Twilight, can Ah borrow ya for a few minutes? It’s really important,” Mac said.

“Uh, sure, Macintosh,” Twilight said. “Is there something wrong? You look a little...electric.”

“Everything’s great, Twilight,” Mac said with a grin. “Ah just need your help writing a letter. Is there someplace we can talk in private, maybe someplace with some quill and paper?”

A smile crept onto Twilight’s face as an idea came to her. “Actually, I know just the place. Follow me.”

“Hey, just where the heck are you two going?” Applejack called after them.

“Don’t worry, sis, we’ll be back lickety-split.”

-*-

Celestia’s personal library was a vault of immense knowledge located high atop one of the taller spires of the castle. Most of the ceiling was made of glass, allowing the light of the moon and the stars to shine in unimpeded. Twilight smiled as she ran a hoof across the spines of hundreds of books set into bookshelves. She took a moment to take out and flip through a few of her favorite tomes. After reading a couple pages from a dozen books, she reorganized one of the shelves, noticing that the books were out of order.

“Thanks for helping me out with this, Twilight,” Mac said for the fourth time.

“Of course, Macintosh,” Twilight said. “I just don’t understand what you need my help with. I’m not sure there’s a lot I can do to help write your friendship report to Celestia.”

Mac shrugged. “Right now I got all these thoughts in my head, and I ain’t the best at writing a letter, but if I just talk to ya, get all these thoughts out, then maybe I can make sense of it. And maybe you can help me make my letter sound good.”

Twilight nodded. “That makes sense. You know, if it’ll help, you can just have a conversation with me and I’ll take notes, and then we can summarize everything in a letter.” She went to the front desk and took out parchment, a quill, and a well of ink from one of the drawers. She pressed the tip of the quill to her tongue and then dipped it in ink. “So go ahead, Big Macintosh. What have you learned?”

Big Macintosh took a deep breath and let it go slowly through his nose. He let it all out. All his emotions, all his thoughts, all his fears. He talked and talked as if to the air in order to get everything straight. He allowed his mouth to run without much thinking behind it, blurting out anything and everything that crossed his mind.

All the while Twilight wrote down everything he said. She never once asked him to repeat anything, never once did she interrupt. She never looked up from the parchment. Her ears would wriggle and then her quill would fly across the page. At one point she took out another quill and wrote with two, one with her hoof the other with her magic.

They kept it up for more than half an hour until Macintosh had no more to say. Even then, the work was still not done. Together, the two of them looked over the pages and pages of parchment and began to trim it all down. They went through every paragraph, through every line, through every word, until the letter was just perfect. Finally, Twilight took the single page of parchment and read it out loud.

Dear Princess Celestia,

I’ve always been a little jealous of Applejack, of all the Elements of Harmony. They have those great, big destinies I always wanted as a colt. I wanted to take care of my home and my family, including Applejack, but over the years it was pretty clear that Applejack and her friends were taking care of me through all the disasters that came my way.

I came to terms with never becoming the hero I wanted to be. I resigned myself to stay on the farm with my head down as I pulled my plow. Because that was my contribution, that was how I could help Applejack. I couldn’t save Equestria, but I could save her some time and worry by putting the farm on my shoulders.

Soon, however, things became quiet, and suddenly Applejack didn’t need me to help her with the farm, if I was even helping her at all. With an injured body, I was forced to lay off work and spend time outside the farm. Having so much free time made me absolutely crazy.

But then I met my friends.

At first, I didn’t think of them as my friends. Truth be told, I thought they were kind of a nuisance. But little by little they got to me, and I realized what I had been missing. From each of them I learned a little bit about myself, and from each of them I learned a new lesson.

I learned from Twilight that friends don’t always have to agree about everything in order to be friends. Pinkie Pie taught me how much fun I could have outside my comfort zone. I learned from Rainbow Dash how much I could love a pony that wasn’t even a part of my family, and Fluttershy taught me how much a friend can make you feel better without saying a single word. Rarity showed me just how much a friend can care about you, and Applejack taught me how easy it is to lose track of what’s important.

These are all just simple one-sentence summaries, and don’t come close to doing those crazy mares justice. In fact, I made a lot more friends outside the Elements of Harmony, and I learned a lot from them too.

But having friends made things a little more complicated than what I was used to. Before, I only had my family and the farm, and to take care of both I just had to do what I’ve been doing since I was a colt. But now, with friends, I had so many worries. What if I let them down? What if I messed up, and they realized I wasn’t anything special? Because I’m not anything special. I’m just some farmpony that hardly ever stepped out of my family’s land.

What a stupid thing to worry about, huh?

A pony doesn’t have friends because they deserve them, because they did something great and special that proves them worthy of companionship. They have friends because those friends have seen them at their best and their worst and have chosen to stick by them through the best and the worst. My friends think I’m something special, and that’s enough to make me something special.

That is the first big lesson I learned.

The second big lesson I learned is still a work in progress.

Do you remember when I told you that I wanted to find something that only I can do? I think a little bit of my jealousy was showing through. I still haven’t quite found what that is, but maybe being me is enough. After all, no one else can do that, right? Maybe we go through our lives affecting other ponies’ lives without even knowing. Years ago, one of my friends, Octavia, gave my cousin a cello, and now my cousin is playing at major Canterlot events. Maybe it’s like that with everypony. Maybe we help out ponies without even realizing it.

Even with that said, I still have this nagging feeling in the back of my heart that tells me I’m not gonna be happy staying in my apartment and painting all day. I know, deep down, that I want to go back to working on a farm. In a way, I’m like the dirt: I can take care of things and maybe help them grow. Maybe that’s my purpose: to take care of those I care about: my family, my friends, my farm. I know it’s what would make me happy. So if you have any land laying around, feel free to send me a letter. It doesn’t matter how barren the land is. It’s not anything a little earth pony magic can’t fix.

I hope I can talk to you soon. I’m not the best at writing letters. Twilight’s helping me write this one, which is why it’s actually readable.

With love,

Big Macintosh Apple

P.S. That friend I mentioned earlier, Octavia, has always dreamed about ruling Equestria. If you ever decide to do a Princess-for-a-Day thing, I’d like to nominate her. I can’t guarantee she won’t try to do a proper coup d'état, but I really think she deserves it.

Twilight and Mac exchanged smiles, and Twilight wrapped up the parchment and tied it with a crimson ribbon.

“Thank you, Twilight,” Mac said. “I couldn’t do it without ya.”

“I want to thank you too, Macintosh, for sharing something so personal with me.” She looked at the ground in thought, her lips pressed into a thin line. She raised her head and met his gaze. “Macintosh, I’m really touched by this letter. I’m glad we were able to help you so much, and I want you to know you helped us a bit too. I’m proud to be your friend.”

Mac chuckled. “Twilight, you keep talking like that yer liable to start makin’ me tear up.”

“Sorry,” Twilight said, her smile widening. She hovered the letter in front of her. “I’ll deliver this to Celestia personally, her room’s actually nearby. You should get back to the bachelor auction, I’m pretty sure they’re going to announce the results soon.”

Mac nodded. “You’re probably right. Thanks again, Twilight. I think I can find my way back okay.”

The two of them walked out of the library together and then went their separate ways. Big Macintosh smiled the whole way down to the ballroom. His time with Twilight in the library had certainly proved both cathartic and insightful. He felt as if his path was clear now, and he no longer had to worry about getting in his own way. All he had to worry about was figuring out the best way to tell Applejack his plans to open his own farm. But maybe he didn’t have to do it immediately. After all, he wasn’t sure where his farm would even be. He had saved quite a few bits over the years, but he still needed to figure out how much land he could buy while still keeping enough to actually buy seeds and saplings and the like.

He thought about his plan all through his walk, and he arrived at the ballroom quicker than he realized. There were hardly any ponies left there. Perhaps he had arrived a bit too late. Fiddly Faddle was on the musician’s stage playing with her quartet, and Fluttershy stood beside the platform and watched them play. Macintosh trotted up to her.

“Howdy there, Fluttershy,” Mac said. “Where’s Applejack? Did they already announce the results?”

“Oh, Applejack had to go back to Ponyville before the rain started. They didn’t give the results yet, almost everypony is trying to place a bid.”

“What about you? You place a bid yet?” Mac asked with a smile. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if I had to go on a date with ya.”

Fluttershy’s cheeks burned bright red. “Oh, no, I didn’t bid...not that I have anything against you, it’s just, um...” She trailed off and hid behind her mane.

“It’s alright, Fluttershy. I’m just teasing,” Mac said, trying to hold back his chuckles. “Between you and me, I think Ah got enough ponies after me.”

Fluttershy smiled and nodded. She opened her mouth to speak, but something caught her attention. “Here come the others,” she said, pointing toward the bidding room.

Fancy Pants, Blueblood, Soarin, Spitfire, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Octavia, and Rainbow Dash all walked toward Mac and Fluttershy. Fancy Pants had an odd expression on his face, something between disbelief and glee. His nose was scrunched as he tried to hold back laughter behind a wobbling grin. Blueblood looked much more his usual self, with a haughty scowl carved into his face.

Once close enough, Fancy Pants hovered a small slip of paper to Macintosh. He grabbed it, and saw that it had his name on the front. Mac raised an eyebrow at Fancy Pants, and the unicorn stallion had to raise a hoof to allow himself a moment to compose himself.

“Your top bidder wanted to be kept anonymous. She said only to give you this letter. I thought it best to show this to you now, since I very well couldn’t announce your highest bidder with the rest of the bachelors. Please, open it and read it, before I break down into giggles.”

Mac looked at the paper, unsure of what to expect. As the others watched, Mac unfolded the letter and read silently.

Dear Macintosh,

I had a faint inkling that you wished to see me, and so I thought to take the initiative and spare you an awkward date, all while making a charitable donation. I expect you tomorrow at noon for tea.

With Love,

Princess Celestia

P.S. Feel free to bring that friend with treacherous ambitions. I’m sure she will be an absolute delight.

Mac chuckled. Faint inkling nothing. Celestia just happened to get his letter and probably used her magic to make her bid from afar.

“Ridiculous,” Blueblood muttered. “Completely ridiculous. What is this world coming to?”

“Now now, Blueblood,” Fancy Pants said, his voice cracking. “That’s no way to speak of your future uncle.”

Blueblood yelled out in despair. He shook his head with all his might and began to walk away, unable to stand his present company for any longer.

“Blueblood wait,” Mac called out, and the prince actually stopped. Mac caught up to him. “I’m sure yer aunt just felt sorry for me, knowin’ that I wouldn’t bring in the bids. I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything really.”

Blueblood scrunched up his snout in thought and then slowly nodded. “Yes, yes that makes sense. That makes perfect sense. Of course a farmer like you wouldn’t attract many bidders, and with your sister being the Element of Honesty, my aunt must only have been acting out of her usual kindness.”

He sighed in relief and turned up his nose at Mac. “Well, I suppose you have your lucid moments, don’t you, Apple? Even so, I must be going to prepare Fancy Pants’ notes for the announcement of the results.” He took a couple more steps but stopped and looked over his shoulder at Macintosh.

“I’m having a little garden party in two weeks and…” Blueblood trailed off, the words stuck on his tongue.

Mac tilted his head. “Are you inviting me to yer swanky shindig?”

Blueblood rolled his eyes. “It is a garden party, and yes, you are invited. But do not read into this invitation. I am only inviting you because I have asked for the presence of far too many ponies with coats in blues and greens. I need more warm-colored ponies to maintain color balance. That is the only reason you are invited, understand?”

Mac smiled. “I got it. See you there, Blueblood.”

Blueblood nodded and trotted away.

“Between you and me, Mr. Apple,” Fancy Pants said as Mac returned to his group, “you have had such a positive effect on Blueblood.” Fancy Pants patted Macintosh’s shoulder. “It was lovely seeing you again. I hope we can spend more time together soon.” Fancy Pants scanned across the other ponies there. “That goes for all of you.” With a final nod, Fancy Pants followed after Blueblood.

Macintosh watched him go. “I think it’s about time I head home too,” he said. He turned to his cousin, still playing her cello. “Hey Fiddly, Ah’m headin’ out. It was good to see ya.”

Fiddly waved her bow at him. “Same here, cuz. Don’t be a stranger. Now that Ah’m living in Canterlot I expect regular dinner invites, ya hear?”

“Ah hear,” Mac said with a grin. “Ah’ll get your address from Fancy Pants.”

Fiddly smiled back and went back to playing without missing a beat. Happy to have found a family member so close by, Mac turned to Octavia. “You comin’ with me?”

“You go on ahead,” Octavia said. “Me and the girls have much to discuss.”

Mac tilted his head and looked over at Rarity. She only gave him a shrug.

“Alright then,” Mac said. “I’ll see y’all real soon, I’m sure.”

As Macintosh said his goodbyes, Soarin surprised him with a tight hug. “Tell me how your date with Celestia goes,” he whispered in his ear. “I’m your friend, right? That means you give me details. All the details.”

Spitfire bit the end of Soarin’s tail and dragged him off of Macintosh. “C’mon, Mr. Details. We gotta get going before the rain starts. You know how much I hate flying in the rain.”

“Aww, can’t we have some more drinks first?” Soarin asked. “The bar doesn’t close for another half hour, and I want to beat the house.”

Spitfire rolled her eyes but smiled. “Fine, but only one drink. I don’t want to carry you back all the way to Cloudsdale. I’m not as strong as Mac, you know.” Spitfire stepped closer to Mac and tapped his cheek with a hoof in a mock punch. “You enjoy that date with Celestia, and make sure you keep in touch.”

“I will, but I gotta tell ya. It ain’t so much of a date as it is a sort of tea party. At least, that’s what it said in her letter.”

“Well, make sure tea is all you have,” Rainbow Dash said. She gave him a tight hug. “See you soon, alright big guy?”

Mac nodded. After a few more goodbyes and a couple more hugs, Mac left the ballroom and headed back home beneath a dark, cloudy sky. The scent of rain hung heavy in the air, and in the far off distance a flash of lightning split open the night sky. The slow rumble of thunder followed close behind, and Mac breathed a happy sigh. The streets of Canterlot were empty from the threat of rain, and so he had the road to himself as he made his way home.

A drop of rain hit Mac’s nose, then a sheet of rain drenched his entire body. He laughed at the torrent of water. The rain fell as cold and sharp as nails, but he didn’t mind. The chill felt good, like a cold shower after a long day of work. He kept his slow pace, and jumped in every puddle he could find. He hoped Rarity wouldn’t get too mad at him for getting his suit wet. The road became a shallow river, and Macintosh waded through it, enjoying the feel of water rushing past his hooves. Thankfully, the rain had started when he was only blocks away from home.

He didn’t feel cold until he went inside his apartment and the sudden change in temperature sent a violent chill down his back. Big Mac flipped the light switch, but nothing happened. The power was out. He shrugged and stripped off his suit and hung it in the bathroom to dry. He took out a candle and set it on the table and lit it with a match. He did the same to one of the burners on his stove.

Nothing went better with the pitter patter of rain than a nice, hot bowl of soup. It was an opportunity to use up some leftover ingredients before they could spoil in the fridge. He grabbed some vegetables and the biggest pot he had and started making a hearty soup. Once all the ingredients were in, all that was left to do was wait. A boring prospect to be sure.

The candle flickered at the corner of his eye, and Mac got an idea. He went into his pantry and took out a blank canvas and his easel. He set both in front of the candle and started painting. Even he could admit he enjoyed painting, though perhaps not as his only activity, and certainly not with the same repetitive subject. Maybe he’ll keep at it even after opening up his own farm.

A knock at his door stopped him mid-stroke, and Mac dropped his brush into a cup of water. That must be Octavia, she was the only one he knew that could enter the building without him buzzing them in. But when he opened the door, Mac found eight soaked ponies standing in his hallway: the Elements of Harmony, the captain and vice captain of the Wonderbolts, and a temperamental cellist.

Macintosh chuckled. “Come on in. There ain’t any power, but I got fresh towels and hot soup.” He led the parade inside and handed out towels and hangers for their sopping wet clothes. As they all hung their outfits over the tub, Mac poured out eight bowls and placed them on the dining table. He was glad he hadn’t put the table leafs away.

Rainbow Dash was the first to sit at the table, her mane still drenched. She took the bowl of soup and brought it to her lips to gulp it down. She finished the bowl and slid it toward Mac. “Delicious as always, Mac. Mind if I get some more?”

Mac smiled and took her bowl. “So what are y’all doing here anyway? Thought you were all gearing to go home.” He refilled her bowl and set it in front of her.

She used a spoon this time. “The trains are all out because of the rain, and, well, it was a shorter walk to get to your place than to go all the way back to the castle.”

“We’d hate to impose,” Spitfire said as she took a seat, “but it’s pouring too hard to fly safely this late at night, so we’re sort of stuck over here...so if it wouldn’t be any trouble...”

“Yer more than welcome to stay the night,” Mac said. The others trickled into the living room, lively chatter all about them, and sat down to eat. “All of ya,” he added. “Ah got three rooms, includin’ mine. Spitfire and Soarin can share one of the guestrooms, provided they promise they won’t cause a ruckus.”

“We’ll be quiet as field mice,” Soarin said.

“Then that leaves two rooms for the other five of ya, and Ah’ll sleep in the living room. I got a sleeping bag in one of these closets I can use.”

“Make that six of us,” Octavia said. “I’m staying over as well.”

“Octavia, you live right under me, our apartments are attached.”

“True, but there is no way I’m leaving you alone with five single mares.”

“Oh?” Rarity said. “Why so worried, Octavia? It’s not as if you and Big Macintosh are together.”

“Right,” Mac said before Octavia could add her retort. “And if you’re really worried, why don’t you let them stay at your place?”

Octavia clicked her tongue. “As if I would allow anypony in there, but if you wanted to spend the night in my apartment, well, that’s another story entirely.”

“I ain’t leaving my home while I got guests over,” Mac said. “So it looks like it’s settled. Three ponies in my room and three ponies in the last guestroom, and finally me in the living room.” Octavia looked less than happy about the arrangement, but there wasn’t much she could say.

“Aren’t you going to eat anything, Macintosh?” Rarity asked.

“I’ll eat once everypony else is done,” Mac said with a smile. “Don’t want my guests to go hungry, right?” He stood and rolled his shoulders. “I’m gonna go get the bedrooms ready.”

“I’ll help you out,” Soarin said.

Mac nodded and together the two stallions entered the guestroom. Soarin closed the door behind them as Mac started taking off the sheets from the bed. Mac had placed some thin white sheets on the mattress to make the room presentable, but such mediocre sheets wouldn’t do for actual guests, especially on a cold night like this. He unfolded a thick quilt Granny Smith had made him as a parting gift.

“Can you grab that corner, Soarin?” Mac asked.

“Forget about making the bed, Mac,” Soarin said. “What’s your plan?”

Mac tilted his head. “Plan? For what?”

“Mac, buddy, you gotta be kidding me,” Soarin said. “There’s six mares in there and I’m pretty sure at least half of them got the hots for ya. You can’t just go on without a plan, yer gonna break some hearts if you’re not careful. Especially in an atmosphere like this.”

“Like what?”

“You know. Lights are out, only candles for light, chilling cold with only body heat to keep you warm, with the only music the seductive rhythm of torrential rain.”

Mac rolled his eyes. “Soarin, I really like having ya as a friend. In fact, your company makes me wish I had as many stallion friends as mare friends, but you got the situation all wrong.”

“Oh really?” Soarin said, ruffling his feathers. “Well then tell me, oh wise one, what’s the situation like?”

“First of all, Rarity’s too worried about her relationship with Applejack if things go south to start anything with me. She made that real clear over lunch a couple days back. Octavia and I want different things. There’s never been any sort of romance between me and Twilight, and that goes double for Fluttershy.”

“What about Pinkie Pie, she was flirting with you at brunch.”

“Pinkie’s just having fun, ain’t no serious feelings behind it. And Rainbow Dash doesn’t think of me in that way. So yer worryin’ for nothing, Soarin. Now help me fix up this bed.”

“Alright, alright,” Soarin said with a sigh. “I guess you’d know better than me.” His eyes widened with a realization. “But I bet you don’t know better than Spitfire.”

“And what would Spitfire have to say about any of this?”

“She’s a mare, and mare’s always talk about romance when they get together. She could be our mole, our mare on the inside.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard. I’m pretty sure mares got better things to talk about.”

“Hey it wouldn’t hurt to ask her and get her perspective on this.”

Macintosh sighed and finished tucking the quilt’s corners beneath the mattress. He didn’t say a word as he unfolded another quilt and draped it over the bed. After smoothing out all the wrinkles, he placed a few pillows and folded blankets on the floor as well. “If it’ll shut you up once and for all about my personal affairs, then fine, ask her. Meanwhile, I’m gonna go set up your room.”

He opened the door and headed to the other guestroom, all the while ignoring the conversation taking place at the dining room. He took the stairs up to the second guestroom and started to replace the sheets.

Mares only talk of romance? Now that was a laugh. The only mare that could possibly fit that description was Rarity. In fact, the only other pony he talked with about romantic love nearly as much was Soarin. Mac wasn’t lying when he told him he wished he had more male friends, but that was only because Soarin’s perspective of things seemed a bit...skewed. Mac could only imagine what Blueblood or Fancy Pants would have added to the conversation.

Once the bed was remade with thicker and comfier sheets, one of them an eiderdown duvet Octavia had left in the room during her extended stay, Mac took Octavia’s cello and stand and placed it deep in the closet. He also took out his sleeping bag. It would be nice to camp out in the living room and stare out the balcony doors to watch the lightning and rain. He balanced the sleeping bag on his back and was about to leave the room when the door clicked and slowly opened.

“How’s it going, Mac,” Spitfire said as she entered the room, Soarin following close behind her. “So I heard Soarin’s been bugging you about dumb things,” she said. She went to the side of the bed and leaned against the mattress to test its firmness. “Thanks for putting up with him.”

“It’s no problem,” Mac said. “A part of me kinda enjoys it.”

“Hey, I’m right here you know,” Soarin said. “So you agree with him, Spit? That there’s nothing to worry about?”

“I agree that you’re blowing this out of proportion,” Spitfire said. “Listen, Mac, you’re an adult, and so are the mares in the dining room. You know ‘em better than I do, and you know where each of ya stand better than I do. But I will say this–”

“Aha! I knew it!” Soarin said with a grin. “There is something to worry about.” His grin faded as both Mac and Spitfire glared at him. He coughed. “Um, you were saying, sweetie?”

“As I was saying,” Spitfire said, “I went with them to place a bid, and I listened in. Let me tell you, Mac, there were a ton of bids for you. Pages and pages. Even the ponies that didn’t gather around to hear your stories were pretty impressed by your sketch. I think seeing all those bids might make a mare or two realize how popular you really are, and how easy it’ll be for you to get snatched up. If that were the case I wouldn’t be surprised if they made a move real soon. Maybe tonight, maybe not. Either way, you didn’t hear it from me.” Spitfire hopped onto the bed, and bounced a couple of times to test the mattresses’ springiness. “Now if you don’t mind. I’d like to get to bed. C’mon Soarin.”

Soarin’s wide grin returned, and he leapt onto the bed. He pressed his nose against Spitfire’s, and Mac turned away to face the door, his cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red.

“Listen, can you two not, uh...the walls ain’t that thick so...”

“Don’t worry, Mac, we’ll behave,” Soarin said.

“We promise,” Spitfire added. “And thanks for putting up with us.”

Macintosh gave the door a nod, and with a ‘goodnight’ he left the room and left them alone. The rest of the ponies were still around the dining table talking about this and that. Mac didn’t really have much interest in joining them, and none of them paid any real attention to him. Big Macintosh pushed the coffee table to the side and set down his sleeping bag in the center of the living room.

“Are you getting ready for bed?” Fluttershy asked.

“Eeyup,” Mac said. “It’s getting pretty late. Have y’all decided how yer splittin’ the rooms.”

“We have,” Twilight said. “Me, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie are going to share one room, and Octavia, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash are sharing the other.”

Mac nodded and stared out the balcony door. He watched the streaks of rain race down the glass, merging and splitting as they fell. He had always loved the rain.

“Macintosh, sweetie,” Rarity said. “The rest of us have finished eating, and there’s still some soup left if you’d like some.”

Rarity’s voice wrestled Mac out of his head for a moment. He nodded again and went into the kitchen to pour himself the last few ladles of soup. He sipped at it and leaned against the kitchen island, listening to the others’ conversation from the sidelines. They discussed the bachelor auction, the coming winter, and Dash’s imminent year-long stay in Cloudsdale to attend her training. Every so often they would ask for his thoughts, and Mac would respond with a quick ‘eeyup’ or ‘nope’.

The conversation didn’t last for long, and as Mac finished his soup everyone decided it was time to hit the hay. Big Mac wished them all goodnight, and soon the only sound was the steady beating of rain. However, if he listened really closely, he could hear the quiet breathing of his guests. Mac smiled. It almost felt like he was back at the farmstead.

Mac took his time cleaning the soup pot, and once he did he set down a smaller pot on the stove and heated up some milk flavored with a sprig of mint. He poured the steaming milk in a mug and walked to the balcony door to watch lightning flash near the horizon. The quiet roar of thunder sung a lullaby over Canterlot, and Macintosh sipped his drink in peace.

He had a hunch, a small, little gut feeling, that he wouldn’t be alone for long. Spitfire’s words tumbled around his head. He had an idea of who Spitfire might be talking about, but really it could be anyone. Mac tried to think of what he would say, but gave up after a minute or so. He knew that, when it came right down to it, he didn’t know how he would react until he was face to face with the mare. Mac finished his drink and placed it on the coffee table, his eyes never leaving the rain.

A door clicked open and closed soon after. Mac’s ear twitched as the sound of familiar hoofsteps came toward him and stopped behind him. Big Macintosh took a deep breath. He turned around. A part of him was surprised, a part of him wasn’t.

Mac smiled. “Took us a while, didn’t it?”

20. Splitting the Difference

Splitting the Difference

Octavia didn’t look her usual confident self as she stood beside Macintosh with the castle’s huge double doors looming over them. After straightening her tie for the fiftieth time, she went to Macintosh and made sure his vest was on right. Macintosh placed a hoof on her shoulder to catch her gaze.

“I’m sorry it had to go like this, Octavia,” Mac said with a somber frown, “but I’m turnin’ ya in.”

Octavia pushed his hoof away with a scoff. “Damn it, Macintosh, I’m nervous enough without your idiotic attempts at humor. Aren’t you the least bit tense at the thought of meeting Princess Celestia?”

Mac shrugged. “I met her before and she seems real nice. Applejack says she’s a real pushover unless you get on her bad side, and why would you ever get on her bad side? Ain’t like you go on and on about taking over Equestria or anythin’.”

Octavia glared daggers at him. “I swear, Macintosh, one more and I will knock you to the ground.”

Macintosh chuckled. She was smaller than him, sure, but she was scrappier too. “Fair enough, but truth is I’m more worried about leaving everypony snoozing in my guestrooms while I’m out here.”

“Some things can’t be helped,” Octavia said. “Especially clingy guests. I’m sure Rarity won’t allow them to wreak too much havoc.”

A guard in golden armor approached the two and bowed. He beckoned for them to follow him, and he led them through the doors and into the castle. The interior of the castle was just as glittery as the ballroom at the bachelor auction. Great draping curtains of silk and velour hung from the marble pillars, and paintings from classical eras long passed, paintings that should by all rights be in an art museum, hung from the walls.

The guard took them through another door that led into a long hallway decorated with stained glass. The guard bowed again and took his leave, closing the door behind him and leaving Octavia and Mac on their own. At the other side of the hall stood a throne, and on that throne, well, Mac didn’t have to take a guess.

Octavia pushed Mac forward and, after a few stumbling steps, he led the way toward Princess Celestia.

It was strange to see the stained glass that decorated the walls. They colored the light that shone through, and thus tinted the ground in shades of pink, yellow, blue, and red. The glass windows themselves depicted the numerous heroic deeds of his sister and her friends...their friends, he reminded himself. He sometimes forgot about their accomplishments and, in truth, often pushed the thought out of his mind.

He tore his eyes away from the windows as they reached Celestia at her throne. How was it possible for a pony to shine like the sun? Mac guessed it made some sort of sense considering that she raised the sun every morning. Her ethereal mane waved as if carried by a breeze. She smiled down at them as they both gave her a bow.

Celestia stood from her throne and stepped down to greet them. “Big Macintosh Apple, it is good to see you again, and is this the friend you told me about? The one who wishes to overthrow me and take my position of power?”

Octavia pushed Mac aside before he could speak. “Oh no, Princess Celestia, Macintosh was simply joking.” She forced out a nervous laugh and bowed so low her nose hovered an inch above the ground. “I am your loyal subject and would never, ever think to...”

As Octavia continued to talk, Celestia leaned down close to whisper in her ear. “I find your dishonesty very disrespectful.”

Octavia froze, and a visible shiver crawled down her back. “I-I...please don’t send me to the moon.”

“Look at me when you speak,” Celestia said, her voice now so low and stern that Macintosh gulped down a twinge of fear. But a single wink from the princess dissipated any panic he felt, and Mac knew everything would be fine.

Octavia inched her head up to look at Celestia. “I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Princess Celestia said with a smile. Octavia’s shivering stopped, she froze still. Celestia patted her head. “As a symbol of my forgiveness, how would you like to sit upon my throne?”

Octavia’s eyes widened, and she leaned over to look behind Celestia at the gleaming, plush seat of authority. “Do you really mean it?”

“Of course.” Celestia stepped aside and invited Octavia to take a seat with a wave of her hoof.

Octavia galloped, as if worried Celestia might change her mind. She wriggled into Celestia’s seat, snuggling in so tight it seemed as if the throne would consume her completely. She rested her hooves on the armrests and wore a grin wider than her mouth.

“I could get used to this,” Octavia said. She raised a hoof in the air and spoke in as booming a voice as she could muster. “Bring me the most beautiful ponies in Equestria so that I may assemble my harem. Macintosh, you will be my prized concubine, as well as my advisor of agriculture.”

Celestia chuckled. “I’m afraid I disbanded the royal harem at the start of my rule.”

Octavia’s face fell into despair. “What do you do for fun then?”

“Oh the usual,” Celestia said, “keeping an eye out for any threats to Equestria, its people, and all the goodness of this world.” Celestia turned her smile to Macintosh. “Might I interest you in some tea and cookies, Macintosh?”

“That’s a nice offer Miss, uh, Princess Celestia, but I ain’t much for tea,” Mac said. “Matter of fact, if I could be a bit blunt, I’m sure you invited me here for more than just my pleasant company. Don’t get me wrong, I’m honored you asked me to come here, but I’d be lying if I said I knew why.”

“You certainly have changed,” Celestia said. “So much more confident. As for why I have brought you here, you said so yourself in your letter that I should contact you if I had any land for you.”

Mac’s heart jumped into his throat. “You...You’re giving me land?”

“She’s not giving you anything,” Octavia said. “All land in Canterlot is the property of the princess. When you buy land here, you’re really just buying a lease to use the land in exchange for paying a tax on it.”

“Octavia is correct,” Celestia said. “However, this plot of land is twenty acres in a valley at the very edge of Canterlot’s boundary, a good hour-long hike from the border of the city proper. It is a place where nothing grows, for the earth is hard and malnourished in the summer and turns into a thick mud in snow and rain. I have long ago thought it nothing but a lost cause, but seeing you and reading your friendship report has made me curious to see what your hooves, and your earth pony magic, could do for that land. What do you say, Macintosh?”

“I, well...” Mac stuttered to say something, anything, but the prospect of being given twenty acres of land suddenly brought back a tidal wave of self-doubt. Mac took a deep breath and thought about his words. “I’m really honored you got so much faith in me, Princess Celestia, but I think it might be a bit too much faith. Sure, I talked a pretty big game, but when you start going on about a plot of land so barren that even you gave up on it, well, I can’t help but feel a mite worried. Besides, I ain’t even sure...”

Celestia gave him a warm smile. “My faith is well placed. Would you feel better if you had a look at it first? I could teleport us there.”

“I’d like that,” Macintosh said. “I could really get a feel for how much work needs to be done.” He turned to Octavia, still half sunk into the throne. “You comin’, Octi?”

“Go on without me,” Octavia said, sinking deeper into the cushion. “I have much to do here, such as sitting on this throne and ordering guards about.” She looked down at Mac with a small frown and waved her hoof. “Come forward, Macintosh. I have something to say to you.”

Macintosh quirked an eyebrow and walked to the foot of the stairs that led up to the royal seat.

“I will now dispense wisdom from this golden throne,” Octavia said with a regal tone. She sat up straight and glared down at him. “I can see it in your eyes, that worthless self-doubt you always have. I don’t know why it’s there. I have never seen you more at peace than when you were on your family’s land. You belong on a farm, Macintosh, just as I belong behind a cello. Some ponies have told you otherwise, and for some inane reason you believed them. Well, I can assure you they’re quite mistaken. I know this, you know this, so do not doubt yourself. Do you understand?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said with a smile.

Octavia smiled back. “Now go, and hurry back. I want to go home as soon as possible. You’ve kept me waiting for quite some time, after all.”

“I’ll be sure to keep it short,” Mac said.

“Are you ready?” Celestia asked, her horn glowing.

Macintosh nodded, and a flash of light blinded him for a split moment.

He felt the freezing wind first, a breeze from the heart of winter piercing both his coat and the autumn day like a needle. His vision came back slowly, and when the world came back into focus Mac found himself within the shadow of a mountain. He stood on a barren field without trees or plants. It stretched to the horizon. Mac looked at the ground, flat and even and hard as rock. He stomped on it, and a spider web of cracks stretched from beneath his hoof. He picked up a chunk of the dirt. Hard clay. He brought the clay to the tip of his tongue and grimaced. Lots of salt in the soil, no doubt about that.

“Is this it?” Mac asked.

“It is,” Celestia said. “Do you think you can help it?”

“You sure know how to pick ‘em,” Mac said. “Nothing but salt and clay here, not to mention all the shade from the mountain.” He ran a hoof through his mane and stared off into the distance for a long time until a hint of a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I think...I might be able to do something, but it’ll take a long time, a really long time. It might take me months just to get the soil where it needs to be to grow anything.”

“Believe me, I have nothing but time. As for you, well, it seems that you are actually relishing the amount of time it will take.”

“Not the time, the work.”

The two said nothing else for a long while and only looked at the horizon. Steel-gray clouds floated over them and blocked out the sun, and moments later small snowflakes fell. Mac raised his hoof and stared at the snow that fell there. Snowfall this early in the year? Mac supposed it made sense, being so high up in the mountains. Early frost. Another obstacle for his new farm to overcome.

“Not everyday a pony gets to see the start of their life’s work,” Mac said, more to himself than to the princess beside him. “Now I just gotta figure out how to break the news to Applejack.”

“Do you think it will upset her?”

“Don’t rightly know,” Mac said with a sigh. “I made such a big deal about getting off of Sweet Apple Acres...she might think I’m just going around in circles. Heck, maybe I am, but it feels right.” Macintosh looked at the hard earth and shrugged. “But there’ll be plenty of time to worry about that. For now, I think we should talk business, Mis–uh–Princess Celestia. I’m sure there’s a lot of stipulations and such to be worked out.”

Celestia chuckled. “Yes, there are. My sister will be discussing the finer details with you. She thinks me too lenient when negotiating with my subjects. She’s taken all such matters of mediation upon herself.” Her horn glowed again. “We should go back. She’s waiting for us, and I would hate to keep her waiting for much longer.” Another flash of light blinded Mac for a moment. He didn’t mind so much this time.

A line of servants holding silver, fruit-burdened platters waited by the throne as Octavia called them up one by one to feed her. The flash of light caught her off guard, and she quickly shooed away the servants, scattering them out of the hall. Octavia crossed her legs, taking a nonchalant pose. “Back already? How did it look?” She asked.

Mac watched the platter-carrying ponies run off to the exit. It gave him enough time to pause and think of the right word. “Interesting,” he finally said. “Celestia is takin’ me to write up the contract with Princess Luna. Wanna come?”

“Princess Luna?” Octavia said with a strange smirk. She hopped off the throne, but she gave the cushion a loving stroke before descending the stairs. “In that case I should come along indeed. If she had her way, you would be working the land for nothing but a slice of bread dressed with mustard. Just let me do all the talking, and you’ll be fine.”

“You got experience at this sort of thing?” Big Mac asked.

Octavia laughed. “Macintosh, please, I’ve been negotiating my own contracts since I could hold a cello, and I’ve dealt with Princess Luna before. Lead the way, Princess Celestia.”

Celestia smiled. She said nothing as she led the two out of the throne room and up a flight of stairs. Macintosh kept close behind the princess until Octavia placed a foreleg across his chest and slowed him down until they were a considerable distance behind her.

“As much as I enjoy the view from back here,” Octavia said. “We should discuss our strategy. Tell me about the land, every fault and every virtue.”

Mac nodded. “The lands almost all clay, lots of compaction and lots of salt, with almost no pitch far as I can tell by the naked eye. It’s gonna take me almost a year, maybe more, just to make it hospitable for cover crops, let alone apple trees. Not to mention workin’ out a drainage system, a waterin’ system during the short summer up there, and figurin’ out a way to protect the plants during the early frost. But I think there’s some good soil there. Clay holds nutrients and water awfully well. Once I take care of all the big things, the only problem I’m gonna have is keeping too many plants from growin’ all at once.”

“Wonderful to know,” Octavia said. “What do you want most out of this deal? Money, status, primae noctis? All good things to ask for.”

“I want to own the land,” Macintosh said with no hesitation. “But...that sounds pretty impossible, doesn’t it? I doubt the princesses are gonna let me own it when everypony else technically only leases land.”

Octavia smiled, pressed her side against his, and brought her lips to his ear and whispered. “If you want to own the land, then you will own it. Just leave it to me.” She nipped his ear and made Mac’s cheeks burn.

Celestia opened a door that led into a sun room where rays of light filtered in through the plum-colored curtains. A small circular table laden with steaming cups of tea was in the center of the room. Princess Luna sat at one side with her eyes closed, an air of mystique as thick as her mane flowing about her.

“Good day, sister,” Luna said, she took a sip of tea and slowly opened her eyes. “Did you bring–” Her eyes widened, and her cheeks puffed out as Luna struggled to keep her tea inside her mouth. She swallowed. “You!” Luna shot to her hooves, her mug falling to the ground only to be caught by Celestia’s magic. “What are you doing here?”

Octavia smirked. “I have a vested interest, Lulu. I’m sleeping with the signatory.”

Mac nudged Octavia’s side.

“Ah, well, sleeping in the literal sense, not the fun sense. Although once we get home I assure you we’ll be h–”

“We should get started,” Mac interrupted. He took a step forward and gave Luna a respectful bow. “It’s a pleasure to meet ya, Princess Luna. My name’s Big Macintosh Apple, and I’m–”

“Yes, I’m well aware of who you are,” Luna said, taking back her seat. “Please, sit down and have some tea. Octavia...I suppose you may sit as well, but do not test my patience.”

“When have I ever?” Octavia said.

Octavia and Mac sat across from Luna while Celestia sat halfway between each like a referee. They each sipped at their tea for several quiet seconds, and Macintosh wondered at the whole decorum of these sorts of meetings. He looked over at Octavia. Their eyes met and she brought her cup to her lips. Keep drinking. Macintosh did so and quietly marveled at the status of his company. If only his mom could see him now.

Once everyone had finished their tea, a servant came to clear out the table. Luna wasted no time in replacing the tea set with a sheet of parchment with writing so small an ant could carry away a sentence. Luna brought out a quill and a small vial of ink and levitated it by Macintosh.

“This is our standard agreement for commissioned workers. You will be paid an annual salary along with a yearly budget for improvement of the land, both of which are outlined in further detail in clause two of article three, subsection A, section five: Finances. Also laid out are procedures and rubrics for yearly inspections to make sure your progress is meeting our expectations. As well...” Luna went on about the particulars of the agreement, and Octavia took the contract and combed through it with the eyes of a hawk. Macintosh peered over her shoulder. He understood the words, but somehow, probably through magic, familiar words were strung together to comprise strange ciphers of text.

“No, no, this won’t do,” Octavia interrupted with a scoff. “You’re paying him less in a year than what I make in a slow month.”

Luna pressed her lips together in a scowl. “Your wages have no relevance.”

Octavia ignored her. “And this budget is absolutely miniscule. And what’s this? The kingdom keeps the land, the produced grown, and all the equipment and supplies used? No, no, no.” Octavia grabbed the quill and crossed out various parts of the contract and replaced them. Once finished, she slid the parchment to Luna. “This is our counter.”

Luna read Octavia’s edits, and some color drained from her face. “This wage is outrageous. Truly, truly, truly outrageous! Much more than I would ever pay for a common laborer.”

“A laborer?” Octavia jumped to her hind legs, slammed down her hooves on the table, and bared her teeth. “A laborer! You insult me! The very notion that he is of the same caliber as any random muscle-headed stallion off the street speaks of the immense vacuousness of your skull. He is a specialist with unrivaled tenacity, kindness, and patience. The wage reflects that. If the wage is too much then we will gladly forego it altogether but for nothing less than outright ownership of the land, its crops, its dirt, and everything on, in, beneath, and above it!”

“Absolutely not!” Luna said, copying Octavia’s motions.

Macintosh looked at Celestia. She still had the same serene smile on her face. Well, if Celestia wasn’t worried, then there certainly wasn’t any reason for him to be.

Luna continued. “That land belongs to the Kingdom of Equestria and thus the royal family. It always has and it always will. For all I know, Macintosh Apple will fail to grow a single blade of grass on that land. There have been hundreds of ponies that have promised golden apples from that barren wasteland over the years, and they all have failed. Why should this one be any different?”

“Because he is Big Macintosh Apple, but if that is not enough proof then ask your sister. She certainly holds more faith in him than you. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

“Faith does not grow fruit.”

“Neither do hoarded bits.”

Macintosh cleared his throat, and the three mares around the table looked at him. “Princess Luna,” he began, “I understand why you believe your contract is the best. Heck, if some pony came in and promised me the stars, I’d be mighty suspicious too. After all, the only thing you got to go on is your sister’s word and mine. But I can promise ya that I will have something to show on that farm sooner rather than later. In fact, I’m so sure that I can grow something there that I’m willing to propose a friendly bet.”

“A bet?” Luna tilted her head. “And what sort of bet do you propose.”

“It’s simple,” Macintosh said. “We’ll go by your contract, the wage, the budget, the ownership, everything, for an entire year. If, at the end of that year, I’ve managed to grow something, anything, we switch to Octavia’s draft of the contract. But if I haven’t grown a single leaf before the year is up, then you can go ahead and fire me. I’ll even pay back the wage.”

Luna stared at Macintosh, her eyes going up and down as she sized him up. “Not a very prosperous wager on my part. If you lose, I and my sister are back to where we started.”

“Then I’ll sweeten the pot,” Octavia said. “If we lose, then I’ll play at all kingdom-sponsored events for free. How does that sound, Lulu? No more need to negotiate my pay before every event. Although I’ll dearly miss the hours and hours spent sucking every bit from the crown’s tender teat.”

“I will admit, the prospect of never haggling with you again is tempting,” Luna said.

“I’ll throw in something as well,” Celestia added. “I’ll allow you to move the sun.”

“You would allow me to move the sun?” Her mouth agape, Luna pinned her ears and sank into her seat as if held down by the very weight of her sister’s offer. She looked at Macintosh and gave him a glare that seemed to pierce his very heart. “Octavia was right,” Luna said, “you do have much faith in him, sister. Very well, Big Macintosh Apple, you have a wager, but I will be sure to keep a close eye upon your progress.” She took out a fresh sheet of parchment and laid it on the table. A quill hovered and whirled around the page as it drafted a new contract in the same tiny writing. It took longer for the ink to dry than it did to write the actual words.

“Have a look, it states all the details of our little wager, including copies of my and Octavia’s contracts,” Luna said.

Octavia read over the contract with narrowed eyes. She met Mac’s gaze and nodded, and Macintosh nodded back. He took the quill and signed his name in bold, blocked letters as thick as a furrow. Not the fanciest signature around, but it was straight and neat. Luna signed her own name, a signature thin, curved, and sweeping like a wisp of cloud blown by a strong, summer breeze.

Luna engulfed the contract in her magic, and a second copy appeared. Octavia took the copy, made sure it was exactly the same, and then rolled it up and placed it in Mac’s vest pocket.

“It’s official,” Celestia said with a smile. “So what is your first act as our farming specialist?”

“Well, since it’s autumn, I take it that a lot of flowers and trees in your garden are wilting and shedding their leaves. If you could gather up all of that, plus your extra clippings and such, I could use all that as mulch and get a good start on fixing up that soil.”

“Consider it done,” Celestia said.

“All right, now that everything is all settled, we should really be going.” Octavia pulled Macintosh to his feet and pulled him toward the door. Macintosh rolled his eyes but allowed himself to be dragged away.

“Oh, so soon?” Celestia asked. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to stay for another cup of tea?”

“We would love to, but we have a lot of business waiting for us back home. Come now, Macintosh, we don’t want to waste any sunlight or moonlight.”

“It was a pleasure meetin’ ya, Mis–Princess Luna,” Mac said as Octavia pushed him out the door. Octavia closed the door behind them, and together they made their way out of the castle.

The sun had started to set, and a weather team from Cloudsdale was arranging clouds for another night of heavy rain. Or would it be snow today? He hadn’t been keeping up with the forecast, and the snow over his new farm made it a very real possibility.

The entire walk home Octavia pressed her side against Mac’s. She nipped at his neck several times along the way, causing him to blush. He did his best to keep his sight straight down the road they walked, and he tried to pretend not to notice the looks Octavia’s displays of affection incurred from passing ponies.

“It ain’t like I enjoy the attention,” Mac said, “but could ya maybe wait until we’re alone in the apartment before you start chewin' on me?”

“I’ll only bite harder once we’re alone,” Octavia said with a smirk.

“I’ll take my chances.” Mac supposed he had brought this upon himself. He had promised Octavia, after all. A gentle mist of snow fell on them. Without hesitating, Mac took off his vest and draped it over Octavia. She smiled and pushed her front hooves through. She patted the contract.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get you the land outright,” Octavia said.

“Don’t even worry about it, sugarcube,” Mac said. “I’m the one that butted in with that bet. Between you and me, though, I ain’t worried one bit about it. I’ll have radishes growing by spring, saplings planted by summer, apples by autumn.”

Octavia chuckled and leaned her head against Mac’s shoulder. “I’ll be eager to see the pathetic look on Lulu’s face, but, for now, why don’t we quicken our pace, get home, have a little drink, and unwind?”

“You know, there’s a chance that everypony’s still at my apartment. In fact there’s a good chance they wouldn’t leave until they got a goodbye,” Mac said. They had arrived at their building, and Mac entered the code for them to get in.

“If that happens, then I will personally kick them all out,” Octavia said. She smashed the button for the topmost floor on the elevator. “Now, technically, we are in private. I doubt any other ponies will need to use the elevator or that there will be ponies in that hallway between the elevator and your door. So might we...” Octavia trailed off, her heavy-lidded gaze telling Mac everything he needed to know, and a few things he didn’t.

Mac smiled and brought his lips close to Octavia’s ear. The elevator dinged as it reached the top floor. The hallway was indeed empty. With a small smile, Mac lowered his head to give Octavia a small nip at the tip of her ear, a little payback for all the nips she gave him on the way here. Mac made his way through the hall without a word, and he could feel Octavia’s intense stare on him the whole way, but he didn’t look back.

He entered his apartment, Octavia close behind. Mac scanned the room to see if anyone remained, but the apartment was empty with nothing but the dull light of cloud-filtered sun filling the room. Mac breathed a sigh of relief. They had cleaned up before going, he was glad for that, but...a part of him wished he could’ve stayed long enough to say goodbye and thank you.

Octavia tackled him before he could worry about it too much. It wasn’t a very forceful attack, but Macintosh played along and fell over on his back. He was rewarded with Octavia’s sly grin as she loomed over him.

“Can I help ya with something?” Mac asked.

Octavia chuckled. “Oh, don’t play coy with me. You have kept me waiting for a very long time, and rest assured I’m going to make you regret that wait.” She shrugged off Mac’s vest and threw it on the floor beside the couch. Her bowtie followed after it.

“You’re all talk, ain’t ya?”

Octavia brought her nose to touch against his. She looked into his eyes for a few moments, and Mac could see all her edges melt away. Her smile became sincere, and her eyes lost their sharpness and gazed at him with genuine happiness. It was a good look on her. She eased down, putting her entire weight on him, and wrapped him up in a hug. She took a deep breath and let it out slow. She brought her mouth to his ear.

“I–”

The intercom’s harsh buzz interrupted her.

At first, Octavia tried to ignore the sound and focused back on Macintosh with a forced smile, but the intercom buzzed again and again and again, until it was clear that the pony on the other side was growing impatient. So was Octavia. She climbed off him and crushed the intercom button beneath her hoof.

“What?” she snarled.

“Howdy, Octavia,” Applejack said without missing a beat. “Just came over to check up on my big brother. Ah didn’t get much of a chance to talk to ‘im yesterday.”

“He’s busy.”

“With what?”

“With me. Come back in...” Octavia tilted her head as she did some quick math, “never.”

“Octavia!”

Octavia released the button and switched the intercom to silent. She took a deep breath and slowly turned back to Macintosh. She sauntered to him and regained her position of him. “Now where were we?” she asked with a hungry grin.

Macintosh looked over at the door. “Octavia, maybe we should–”

Octavia pressed her lips against his, and Mac’s heart leapt into his throat. He didn’t resist. Maybe, just this once, Applejack could wait. Octavia lifted her head away from him and gave him a sly smirk. But he could see past her bravado. She was out of breath.

“Were you saying something?” She said between gulps of air.

Mac returned her smile, but one of the bedroom doors creaked open before he could offer a quip. They froze, and Rainbow Dash stumbled out of Mac’s room with a yawn. She walked past them and into the kitchen as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She poured a glass of milk and downed it in one gulp. She tossed the glass into the sink and headed back to Mac’s room.

That’s when she finally noticed them. Her eyes widened, and she took a step back. “Woah, hey,” she said. “What are you two doing here?”

Octavia shot to her hooves, hackles raised. Her eyes sharpened to their usual piercing glare, and her teeth clenched into a scowl. She sat back forcefully on Mac’s stomach, winding him.“What are we doing here? Rainbow Dash, I ought to strangle you.” Octavia climbed off of Big Macintosh and approached her. “What the hell are you still doing here?”

“Geez, calm down,” Rainbow Dash said, trying her best to hold back laughter. “Thanks to you and Rarity yappin’ I hardly got any sleep last night. But hey, it looks like you finally decided to commit. Congrats.”

“You know about us, sugarcube?”

“Know? Mac, if it wasn’t for me you two wouldn’t even be a thing. I told Octavia yesterday that if she didn’t do it I would.”

Macintosh had many questions, but he couldn’t ask even one before the front door slammed open.

“Where is she?” Applejack yelled out. “Where’s that two-faced varmint.”

“Applejack! Let’s not do anything hasty,” Rarity said, following Applejack as she charged into the apartment.

“Oh how lovely, more company. Just what I always wanted,” Octavia said. “How did you even get in here?”

“Simple, I just batted my eyelashes at a passing resident,” Rarity said. “She let us in without a second thought. Although, if I knew what you two were up to I wouldn’t have bothered.” She looked at Macintosh, still on his back, and he quickly rolled onto his hooves, tossing Octavia aside in his haste.

“Now listen here you–”

“Applejack, don’t be so angry at Octavia,” Rarity interrupted. “If I were her I probably would have done the same, a bit nicer, but about the same.”

Octavia scoffed. “If you were me, you’d still be arranging the rose petals.”

“If you were me, you would have thought of a much better retort,” Rarity said with a smug smile. “But I’m curious to find out what happened between you and Macintosh. Did you cave in and agree to a relationship, or has he finally broken the chains of mainstream social convention in order to live a promiscuous and free-spirited lifestyle? Because if it’s the latter I would like to have a word.”

“This isn’t exactly somethin’ I wanna discuss in front of my sister,” Mac said.

“Well it’s something Ah wanna discuss,” Applejack said. “Ah wanna know what the deal is here. Last Ah heard you two decided to just be friends.”

“That didn’t last long,” Rainbow Dash added.

“Right,” Applejack said. “So now Ah gotta make sure Octavia’s got proper intentions.”

Octavia smirked. “Proper intentions? Oh yes, I intend to properly gyrate my–”

Macintosh bumped Octavia with his side. “You know what? I just realized we got company over an’ we didn’t even offer ‘em any drinks. Let me brew up some coffee, and Ah’m sure Ah got some cookies somewhere ready to go.” He hurried into the kitchen, and busied himself with serving drinks.

“Good idea,” Applejack said, “then you can tell me all about what’s going on between you two.” Applejack sat down on the couch. Rarity and Rainbow Dash sat beside her while Octavia took her usual seat in her recliner.

Macintosh rolled his eyes as the coffee dripped into its pot. He set out a plate of butter cookies on the coffee table, and poured out four mugs of coffee and set them beside the cookies. He stayed standing.

“Honestly, Macintosh,” Rarity said with a sigh as she caught sight of his vest. Macintosh sucked in his lips as she used her magic to bring it to her. “I work so hard to make this vest for you, and here it is on the floor getting dirty. I expected much more from you.” She started folding the vest, and the contract fell out and unfurled on the ground. Her eyes were all over the page before Mac could say anything. Rarity’s eyes widened.

“Macintosh, you have a bet with Princess Luna?” she shouted in surprise. Rainbow Dash and Applejack snapped their attention to her.

“A bet with the princess?” Applejack asked, getting out of her seat. “For what?”

“Land,” Big Macintosh said. He figured if anyone was going to tell his sister, it needed to be him. “Twenty acres for a farm.”

“A farm?” Applejack said. “What the heck are you gonna do with a farm?”

“Farm it.”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “You know what Ah mean. What happened to finding your happily ever after in Canterlot? And twenty acres? Are you insane? There’s no way you can work that kind of acreage without gettin’ back into your old habits all over again.” Applejack glared at him. “Is that what you want? To go back to how things were? Ah thought we got over that?”

“We did,” Macintosh said. “But I want to work on a farm again, one right here in Canterlot. And it ain’t like I’m gonna do it alone. I’m gettin’ some help from the kingdom, at least for a year, and by then I’ll be able to hire a couple of helpers.”

“It’s true, Applejack,” Rarity, showing her the contract. “Princess Celestia and Princess Luna agreed to provide workers, supplies, and equipment, in exchange for all food grown. It’s actually very cunning. They take care of all the costs of starting up a farm, and if Mac grows anything he gets to keep the land and the crops.” Rarity narrowed her eyes in thought. “I’m surprised Princess Luna, a pony known for her immense wisdom, signed this. The odds are surely against her.”

“I’m sure Lulu isn’t losing much sleep over it,” Octavia said. “For a pony of steadfast faith in second chances, she isn’t too keen on first-chances. Not that I’m complaining.”

“That’s all great but...no, no, I just...” Applejack shook her head and looked around the room for something to help her cause. “What do you think, Rainbow Dash?”

“It doesn’t matter what she thinks,” Octavia said before Dash could respond. “It doesn’t matter what any of you think. This farm is happening, it has already been decided, by him.” Octavia pointed at Macintosh. “What purpose is there in discussing it?”

“The purpose is makin’ sure my brother ain’t about to do somethin’ foolhardy,” Applejack said, her eyes narrowed in a scowl. She stomped closer to Octavia and leaned her head close to glare at her. “Ah only want what’s best for him. That’s what Apples do. They take care of their family.”

Octavia didn’t back away from Applejack, but neither did she meet her aggressive stance. Instead, she smiled, and when she spoke it was with the same honey-sweet tone she always used to coat her insults. “Oh, of course. Do forgive me Applejack, I had completely forgotten that the Apple family knows exactly what is best for Big Macintosh. Like the time your uncle made a bet with him, a small child, that could have doomed him to indentured servitude, or the time you kicked him off the farm he devoted his entire life to, or right now, when–”

Macintosh pressed his side against Octavia, and she stopped to lock eyes with him. She hardened her jaw and blew air from her nose in annoyance. She turned away from Applejack and walked away to calm down a bit and steady her breathing. Macintosh took her place in front of his sister.

“Applejack, Octavia’s right about the farm. I really appreciate you worryin’ about me, but you gotta trust that I know what I’m doing. Heck, if you don’t trust me, then trust our friends, trust yourself. I’m sure y’all’ll tell me if I’m goin’ overboard.”

Applejack sighed. “Ah know, Ah know, it’s just...” she trailed off and for a split-second her eyes flicked toward Octavia, still with her back to them.

“What?” Macintosh asked, looking over his shoulder at Octavia. “What about Octavia?”

“What about me?” Octavia said, coming back to rejoin the conversation.

Applejack rubbed her temple. “Look, Octavia, Ah don’t mean offense but...Fiddly told me all about your...work ethic. She wouldn’t shut up about it. Like the time you played at Celestial Hall with a broken foreleg, and ya carved out little nubs on your cast to press the strings.”

Octavia smiled. “Ah yes, I remember. Paganini Caprice Twenty-Four. That performance put me on the map and made me the scourge of every violinist from here to Fillydelphia.”

“Right. Thing is, Ah’m a little worried that you two are gonna...encourage each other in the wrong sorta way,” Applejack said. “Might be that the two of ya start focusin’ more and more on your jobs.”

“Is that all?” Octavia said. “I’m sure if either of us feel neglected we’ll make sure to tell each other.”

“If that was the only thing, it wouldn’t be all that big a deal,” Applejack said, “but, well, Ah don’t think you two are...Let me put it this way. Octavia, do you want kids?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Plan on getting married?”

“Never.”

“Ya see what Ah mean?” Applejack said to Mac. “Ah know for a fact you want a family of yer own, Mac, and Octavia doesn’t. Part of me can’t help but think that if you two go on yer just gonna end up hurtin’ each other.”

Mac and Octavia looked at each other. Mac knew Applejack had a point. And yet, when he looked into Octavia’s eyes, he knew that he wanted to try.

“You're right, Applejack,” Mac said. “We might break up over those things, or we might not. Either way, I...I want to stick with her. I wanna see where this goes, and if we break up, well, I’ll certainly learn something from it.”

“Can I say something?” Rainbow Dash said.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Applejack said. “Maybe you can talk some sense into ‘em.”

Rainbow Dash leapt off the couch and stepped in front of Octavia. She placed a hoof on Octavia’s shoulder. “Listen, Mac’s a really nice stallion. Too nice. It’s probably why he stayed on Sweet Apple Acres for way too long. I always knew that the pony he would end up with would have to be tough. Tough enough to look out for him. So, watch his back, will ya? I’m sure he’ll pay you back with all the mushy, romantic stuff you can handle.”

Octavia actually smiled and placed a hoof over Dash’s. “I’m glad I’m not the only one that noticed how hopelessly agreeable he can be. I’ll watch over him, so long as he shows his appreciation daily.”

“So you’re alright with this, Rainbow?” Applejack asked.

“Yeah, of course. Octavia’s the sort of pony that’ll mess you up if you mess with her or somepony she cares about, plus she’s super hot and super talented. Ticks all the boxes for me,” Rainbow Dash said.

“Why thank you, Rainbow Dash,” Octavia said. “I’ve always found you very attractive and talented as well.”

“What about you, Rarity,” Applejack said. “You gotta have something against this.”

Rarity sipped at her coffee. “To be perfectly honest, Applejack, I simply don’t know enough of the surrounding circumstances to make an informed opinion. It’s true that when I first met Octavia, I thought her quite rude and troublesome, but she has certainly surprised me in the months since. What I want to know most of all, Octavia, is how you came to decide to finally make things official between you and Macintosh. Perhaps if I knew your reasoning, I’ll be able to give this my approval.”

“Why would I ever want that?” Octavia said. “I don’t need your approval, and I certainly don’t need Applejack’s.”

“You sure about that?” Applejack said. “Much as Ah love my family, they can be mighty overwhelming for newcomers. Yer gonna need me on your side, and Ah’m happy to do that. But how do Ah know that you ain’t gonna run off as soon as you see how crazy our family can be?”

“Nice try, but I already know how crazy your family can be,” Octavia said.

Macintosh tapped her shoulder and shook his head. No, she really had no idea how crazy his family could be. Octavia pinned her ears as she understood Mac’s meaning.

“So let’s hear it,” Applejack said. “What made you change your mind?”

Octavia clenched her teeth and looked at each of the ponies around her. “Fine, I suppose it’s not the worst story ever told.”

-*-

Octavia stared at the ceiling of Mac’s guestroom, at the ugly popcorn stucco she had meant to replace before Macintosh moved in. She sighed, and rolled to her side to stare at the two ponies on the floor. Rarity had fallen asleep after their long discussion of gossip concerning the various ponies that attended the bachelor auction earlier that day. Rainbow Dash, on the other hand, was still awake and staring right at her. Good.

“Rainbow Dash,” Octavia said in a soft voice that didn’t really suit her. “Did you mean what you said? That if I didn’t claim Macintosh, you would do it yourself?”

“Why wouldn’t I mean it?” Rainbow Dash said. She rolled onto her stomach and laughed into her pillow. “It’s kind of funny. Rarity told me that the only reason she didn’t get with Mac was because she’s too scared of messing up her friendship with AJ if things go bad.

“I thought it was stupid, but I kind of feel where she’s coming from. I’m scared to make a move because it might ruin what I have with Mac right now. I really like what we have going. It’d be a huge risk asking for more. Much bigger than a corkscrew feint or blindfolded dive. At least broken bones heal. But you, you’re scared more than me and Rarity combined, and I don’t really get why.”

“I’m curious. In your perfect world, what do I do?”

Rainbow Dash hugged her pillow and turned away from Octavia. “When it come right down to it. It ain’t up to Rarity, or me, or even you who Mac end up with. It’s up to him, and I think he’s already made his choice a while ago.” She stretched out her wings, ruffled them, and brought them back to her sides. “You do what you want. No feather off my wings.”

“Want to share?”

“Hell no.”

Octavia sighed and stared at Dash’s back for several seconds. She took a deep breath and threw the heavy, warm quilt aside to expose her body to the bitter cold. She got up, determined to seek warmth of a different sort as she exited the room.

Macintosh was busy staring out the window. His cutie mark looked nice and big just as it always did, and she rather liked him with a short mane. She went to him, ready to sneak up on him, but lost her resolve halfway there. Her usual confidence left her as she saw the drops of rain project onto his face. He looked at peace with his half lidded gaze and modest smile. She stopped behind him.

Macintosh turned to look at her. His smile became just a little wider.

“Took us a while, didn’t it?”

“You give me too much credit,” Octavia said with a sigh. She stood beside him and stared out the window down at the streetlamps that illuminated the empty streets outside.

“Do you want to spend the night alone?” Octavia asked.

“If I had a choice, I’d rather spend it with you,” Mac said.

Octavia smiled. “We want the same things, so would it be so horrible if we were to indulge ourselves tonight?”

“You know my terms.”

Octavia rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, you want a ‘proper’ relationship.” She scowled and stared at the raindrops falling down the glass of the balcony doors. A peal of thunder startled her, and she flinched against the booming sound.

“I’m cold, Macintosh,” Octavia said.

“Then go back to your room or get in the sleeping bag.”

“I’ll do neither unless you join me.”

Macintosh shook his head with a smile. “Fine, get in the sleeping bag.”

Octavia hadn’t expected him to give up so easily, but she certainly wasn’t going to ask questions when she was this close. She buried himself in his sleeping bag, and her heart raced as Macintosh stayed true to his word and went in after her. It took a bit of shuffling, but they finally found themselves comfortably beside each other.

Octavia pressed her side against Macintosh. He had gotten thinner since he stopped working on his family’s farm, yet he still managed to radiate a lot of heat. His body was like a furnace. She looked forward to cold winter nights with him.

“What do you want, Octavia?” Macintosh said, breaking the silence.

“You.”

“Seems like a lot of trouble for a one-night stand.”

“One night?” Octavia repeated with a laugh. “I don’t do one nights, Macintosh. In fact, I hardly have nights at all, but, regrettably, I want you in ways that aren’t purely physical. So I’m planning on keeping you for a very long time, and on an exclusive basis.”

Macintosh quirked an eyebrow. “That sounds an awful lot like the kind of relationship you wanted to avoid.”

“No it doesn’t,” Octavia said quickly.

“Sure it–” Macintosh cut himself off and hummed in thought. “Alright.”

“Alright what?”

“I mean, alright, I’ll give you what you want.”

“Really?” Octavia wanted to make sure he wasn’t pulling some trick.

“But I got a couple of requests.”

Octavia narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Go ahead.”

“Along with everything you said. I want us to look out for each other. Make sure we ain’t being taken advantage of, or that we ain’t being unreasonable about something. And I wanna go out on romantic dates and talk about big things and little things or even nothing at all if the mood strikes us.”

Octavia tapped her chin. “I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to get me into a commitment. Well, fine, if those are the terms, they you have a deal. On one condition: none of the words.”

“What words?”

“The words. I can’t stand those words. Everything else can be the same, but no words.”

“If it’s all the same,” Mac said, “then why not add the words?”

“Because then it’ll be easier on us when we break up.”

Macintosh tilted his head. “When? You think we’re gonna break up?”

“Of course, it’s simply the natural order of things.” Octavia shrugged. “Either you die in love or you grow to hate each other and break it off. Or, if you’re very masochistic, you’ll cling to the memory of better times and stick together despite your growing resentment.”

“Or you could wind up happy.”

Octavia chuckled. “As if a pony could be happy all the time.”

“Well, I ain’t gonna say it’s gonna be easy, but I know lots of ponies that’ve been together for a long time. Sure, they disagree about things, they fight, but so does everypony. Doesn’t matter if they’re friends, siblings, or lovers. I gotta think that, if two friends can go to hell and back and be stronger for it, then why not us?”

“It’s a sweet sentiment, Macintosh. Simple, but sweet,” Octavia said. “I just don’t think...” she trailed off, but the silence didn’t last long. Macintosh rolled her on her back, and positioned himself so that when he locked eyes with her, his were directly above hers. She never saw his green eyes so intense. Were those freckles? When did he get those? She supposed she spent most of the time looking at his other side. She wrapped her forelegs around his neck and brought him close enough to smell the mint on his breath.

“It’s a leap of faith, ain’t it?” Mac smiled and lowered his head so that his lips were beside her ear, and he whispered something that made Octavia’s heart skip a beat. She pushed his head back up to glare into his eyes.

“I told you I didn’t want the words,” Octavia said.

Macintosh shrugged. “Then don’t use the words. But it ain’t like you can stop me from using ‘em.”

Octavia sighed. “Fine. Then I suppose it’s official now, isn’t it?”

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said. “And it looks like I won.”

Octavia scoffed. “Oh please, I won, remember? You agreed to my demands first.”

“That so?” Macintosh said with a sly smirk. “’Cause it looks to me like I got what I wanted, and you still haven’t got what you wanted.”

“Give me a night and that will change.”

“I’m lookin’ forward to it, Octi, I really am, but I ain’t too comfortable...fulfilling my side of the bargain while we got guests over.”

“Really?” Octavia grinned. “I’ll have to break you out of that sensibility, but we’ll go at your pace. For now, would you be so opposed to a little kissing?”

Macintosh chuckled. “I don’t see anythin’ wrong with that.”

-*-

“And then we sucked on each others faces well into the night,” Octavia finished.

“What a lovely story,” Rarity said. “Except for the ending. I could have happily lived the rest of my life without hearing that part.”

“Wait, so do ya still think that you an’ Mac are gonna eventually break up?” Applejack asked.

Octavia shrugged. “I think of it as an unwanted inevitability, but I’m used to fighting the inevitable. Why, I’ve actually won a couple of times. It will be a constant struggle, I think, but better to be ready than to be complacent.”

Applejack rubbed her temple. “Well, as far as completely terrible answers go Ah guess that ain’t a completely hopeless one.” She took her mug of coffee and downed it. “This is gonna take a while for me to get used to, but if Rarity and Rainbow Dash are okay with it, and Mac is fine with it, then...welcome to the family, Octavia.”

Applejack held out her hoof and Octavia scowled at it. She gave Macintosh a sideways glance before taking Applejack’s hoof and shaking it.

“It’s an honor, I suppose,” Octavia said. “Now that all of that’s sorted out, please leave. All of you. There are, literally, one hundred things I would rather be doing right now, half of them involve Macintosh and the other half involve Princess Luna and yet another half involves both.”

“Alright, alright, Ah get it,” Applejack said. “Much as Ah don’t wanna. Me an’ Rarity were just passin’ through anyway and thought we’d stop by. Ah’m still wonderin’ though, Rainbow, how did you end up here?”

“I slept in,” Rainbow Dash said. “What were you and Rarity doing in Canterlot?”

“Applejack was helping me find a suitable place to open a design studio here,” Rarity said.

“Finally deciding to go where the bits are?” Octavia asked.

“I’m still debating on it,” Rarity said. “The rent on even a studio apartment is shocking.”

“If you’re interested, Rarity, Macintosh and I have plenty of space here, and we wouldn’t charge much for rent.”

Macintosh looked over at Octavia to make sure she hadn’t fallen victim to some sort of flu. It wasn’t everyday that she offered to share her space with another pony. Maybe living with him had softened her up a bit. Or maybe Octavia just saw a good opportunity to have a little fun at Rarity’s expense.

Rarity narrowed her eyes in thought, no doubt thinking the same thing. “I will definitely keep you in mind. Now, if you’ll excuse, Applejack and I have yet to have lunch. Do you want to come with us, Rainbow Dash? It’s my treat.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Rainbow Dash said, joining Applejack and Rarity as they headed to the front door.

“Y’all sure you don’t wanna stay here? I can whip up something delicious real quick,” Macintosh said, and Octavia shot him a glare. He flashed her a nervous smile, hoping for a little forgiveness.

“No, that’s alright, Macintosh,” Rarity said. “I’m sure Octavia’s had enough of us for one day.”

“Ah’ll stop by again soon, big brother,” Applejack said, “and make sure you invite me to see that land.”

“See ya, Mac,” Rainbow Dash said.

Big Macintosh saw them out and closed the door behind them. He pressed his forehead against the cool wood and took a deep breath. Well that was emotionally exhausting, but at least now he didn’t have to worry about what Applejack would think. Now all he had to worry about was the bet with Princess Luna. Despite his earlier confidence, he couldn’t help but feel a little worried.

Octavia pressed her side against his. “Are you okay?”

Macintosh draped a foreleg around Octavia and brought her close enough to bury his nose in her mane. “When we conquer the world I wanna big golden crown with an apple-shaped emerald on it.”

“I didn’t expect your tastes to run so gaudy,” Octavia said. “But talking about regalia seems a discussion more fitting for pillow talk.”

Macintosh smiled and whispered in her ear. “Then what are we waiting for?”

She tackled him hard to the ground.

-*-

Big Macintosh wiped away the sweat from his forehead and unhitched himself from the tiller to examine his work. About a quarter of the land lay crumbled behind him. The clay was starting to look like actual soil rather than hard cement. It had taken him the better part of a day just to do that small section, and the work had been slow and exhausting, but he actually felt good about it. Great, even. As if he had just set the first paint stroke on a canvas. About time too. There had been several days of delay due to the snow turning the clay into mush., and several more days passed before it was dry enough to work.

“Not bad, big brother,” Applejack said as she examined the upturned soil. She brought a hoof above her eyes to block out the sun. “Not bad at all. Gotta say though, it’s one heck of a hike getting here. You have a surveyor come to inspect the pitch of the land yet?”

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said. “Basically just a shallow bowl, but I already got some ideas to help with drainage.”

“How does gettin’ back to work feel?”

“Great,” Mac said. “It was a bit hard going at first, but I found my rhythm no problem.” He was about to go on, but a group of ponies came toward them from the path leading to Canterlot. Each one of them pulled a large cart filled with leaves, moss, compost, and trimmings.

Their leader, a tawny earth pony, came up to Mac. “Big Macintosh Apple?”

“Eeyup?”

“Got a delivery here from Princess Celestia. Where do ya want us to spread out this mulch?”

“Spread it over the worked land, don’t worry too much about mixing it all in,” Macintosh said.

“Yes, sir,” the delivery pony said. He called out to his crew and together they started tossing the organic matter onto the worked land.

“C’mon, while they’re busy with that I wanna show you the best part,” Mac said.

Applejack raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but said nothing as she followed Macintosh to the other side of the farm. He led her to a large swathe of land portioned with a thick rope tied around four heavy stakes forming a rectangle.

“This is where I’m gonna build the homestead,” Mac said with a grin.

“Pretty big,” Applejack said. “How many stories are you plannin’?”

“Just two.”

“Two? That’s enough for at least six rooms not counting the kitchen and living room and such. You sure you’re gonna need all that space?”

“Sure, with how long it takes to get over here, I’m plannin’ on havin’ a lot of guests spendin’ the night. Besides, better to have too much space than not enough.”

“Good point,” Applejack smiled as she stared at the outline. “You certainly came a long way, big brother.”

Big Macintosh chuckled and stared at the land soon to be his. He couldn’t help but feel proud of where he ended up, and the future certainly looked bright. After working so hard, he finally had the life he always wanted. A life filled with lots of family, lots of friends, and lots of fulfilling work. It was funny how simple it all seemed now.

Yeah, nice and simple.

Author's Note

It's been fun, folks.

Please keep an eye out. I still have a couple of stories in me.

Special thanks to Comma-Kazie for supporting this chapter's creation via Patreon.

1. Dealing Stud

Dealing Stud

When he finally woke up it was with the great reluctance and stubbornness all too characteristic of the Apple family. Though waking up in a lumpy hospital bed too small for him and only adorned with a thin white sheet didn’t help his mood much.

He’d done it this time: a dislocated right shoulder and a couple of cracked ribs. Though even worse than the focused pain of these injuries was the widespread pain of the cuts, bruises, and rope burns that warranted the bandages covering him from head to hoof.

Still, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been given the circumstances. There were no broken limbs at least and he’d been injured enough times to know that a cracked rib would only take a few weeks to heal. He sighed, contrary to the popular gossip in Ponyville he actually didn’t have a body of steel but more one of duct tape.

But Big Macintosh was tussled away from his thoughts by a ‘knock’ on the curtain surrounding his bed, asking for entrance to the other side. He grunted to signal his approval and moments later the curtain was pulled aside by an orange mare with a blonde mane. Her green eyes gazed at her older brother with concern and, most heavily, guilt. She approached the bed and propped herself against its edge, right next to the small table holding his harness and a single blade of wheat.

“How ya feeling, big brother?”

He couldn’t help but smile. His sister’s usual rambunctious nature had all but disappeared, leaving behind a quiet demeanor of fault and sadness. It didn’t fit her at all, but he supposed she just needed a little time.

“Ah’m a’right,” he said, boredom lacing his voice. He sighed as he shifted his weight and sat up on the bed, all the while making sure to mask his pain behind a smile, “Ah just wanna get outta here and back to work. ‘specially now that Ah got to build an apple cart to replace the broken one.”

She averted her gaze and instead took a sudden interest in the floor. Minutes passed before she could look back at him. When she did, her eyes were filled with tears.

“Ah’m sorry,” she said softer than a whisper. To Big Mac it was two words too many. He leaned over and nuzzled his kid sister.

“Aw heck, sugarcube, ain’t nothing ta apologize for. Ah’m just glad yer okay.” His words seemed to cheer up the mare, if only a little bit. Then, not being much of the sappy sort of pony, he quickly changed the subject, “Any word on when Ah’ll be outta here?”

With a slight smile she answered him, “There’s ain’t much damage done, so Nurse Redheart says ya can come home tonight after she takes a last look.”

Big Mac sighed in relief. Sleeping in a hospital bed wasn’t the most comfortable rest he’d ever had. And being back home in his own bed and close to his family sounded like heaven right now, even if he would be out of commission for a week or two or three. But he would worry about the general feelings of boredom and uselessness later.

“Say Big Macintosh,” his ears perked up a bit as his sister’s tone turned more inquisitive, “me and a couple of my friends play cards in the barn once a month and Ah figured you’d like ta join us. Ah know how bored ya get when ya ain’t workin’.”

He hummed in thought, not to think about her offer but on the best way to tease her, “Ah don’t know, AJ. Seems like Ah could be doing better things than playin’ old mare with a bunch of fillies.”

Just as he had expected Applejack was on it like ugly on a diamond dog, “Now wait just a pony pickin’ minute, for yer information we play poker.”

“Really?” he said, feigning surprise. “Let me guess, five-card draw?”

“Nope. Whinnyssippi stud, no limit, one hundred bit buy-in.”

Big Mac’s interest was genuinely piqued. A hundred bits was a sizable chunk of change after all.

“When?” he asked. It was enough for Applejack to crack a smile.

“A week from tomorrow after sundown. Now if ya’ll excuse me, Ah still got some chores to do back at the farm.” She gave her big brother a farewell nuzzle before turning to take her leave. But she stopped suddenly and turned to face him, “Is there,” she paused for a moment as if to look for the right words, “anything ya want me to tell my friends?”

He took his time to think of an answer, “Tell ‘em I don’ want to be bothered ‘bout this.” As he said it he knew he didn’t like the sound of it. The phrasing just had too much annoyance laced in its words.

“Ya want me to say it a bit nicer, don’t ya?” his sister asked, earning a nod from him. Good ol’ AJ was always able to read him pretty clearly when the need arose. It was with a grateful smile that he saw her go.

It took a final check-up and a promise to not overexert himself for Big Mac to finally be released, but not without an argument with the nurse about wearing his harness. In the end, Nurse Redheart finally gave in. As he left the clinic and entered the early night he ignored the ring of pain around his neck where the familiar weight of the wood rested. He tested the limits of his battered body and was glad to find that his shoulder, though aching, only caused him debilitating pain when he placed all his weight on it. His cracked ribs, meanwhile, only posed a problem if he twisted and bent his body or took a deep breath.

With his thresholds known, he made his way back to Sweet Apple Acres and the family waiting for him. At least, that’s where he intended to go before an idea came to him and he suddenly turned around to the opposite direction.

It didn’t take long for him to reach the huge tree that housed both the extensive library of Ponyville and the purple librarian unicorn charged with its care. He walked up to the door and wondered whether he should knock or not. It was a public library after all and it wasn’t that late in the day. But it was also a house, a mare’s one at that, and he would hate to intrude.

After comprehending the inanity of the debate, he resigned himself to knock a couple of times on the door. It only took a few moments for it to glow with unicorn magic and open a second later. On the other side stood a purple unicorn with a dark mane with a contrasting dark pink and purple stripe.

She seemed taken aback at first by the mass of bandages before her. It only lasted a moment, however, as she recognized the general form of the pony standing at her doorstep.

“Oh Big Macintosh, come in. You know you don’t have to knock when the library’s open.” Her voice was casual as she stepped aside to let him through. As he entered he noticed that she didn’t quite look him in the eyes.

“Woah, Big Mac, is that you? You know Nightmare Night isn’t for a few months, right?” A small purple and green dragon holding a feather quill and a sheet of parchment appeared from behind the unicorn.

“Spike!” the mare whispered harshly to the dragon before turning back to Big Macintosh, “Sorry. I was just about to write a letter to Princess Celestia. Are,” she paused for a brief second, “are you feeling okay?”

He smiled kindly, “Eeyup.”

“Oh, well is there anything I can help you with?”

“Nnope.”

“O-okay, I’ll just leave you to it then,” she said with a nervous smile. It was all the incentive Big Macintosh needed to walk past her and begin perusing the shelves of the library for the books he needed. It wasn’t a hard task since the library was organized in alphabetical order by subject. He started looking under ‘C’ for carpentry when Twilight Sparkle began reciting her letter aloud for Spike to transcribe.

“Dear Princess Celestia,” he was a bit surprised that she didn’t mind him being close by and within earshot while she composed her letter. He tried his hardest to drown out her voice with his own thoughts. He just didn’t feel comfortable eavesdropping like this. But no matter how hard he tried her voice sung loud and clear.

“Today Applejack learned an important lesson about taking on more than she can handle…again. She also learned the importance of doing a job right and to never take the easy way out, no matter how much others say otherwise. And I learned that even though something may be done with good intentions, without proper forethought and caution things might not…” She stopped and Big Mac pretended not to feel her gaze on him, “turn out so well. Your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.”

Once silence had resettled within the library, he finally found a book on basic carpentry that seemed to suit his needs. Grabbing the book within his teeth, he walked over to the checkout desk and placed it on the wooden surface before turning back to the bookshelves. It took him less time to find a good book on poker strategy. As he walked back towards the counter he found Twilight Sparkle already there.

She took the books from him and levitated a pad of paper and quill to her. There she wrote down the names of the books as well as Big Macintosh’s name. She didn’t bother asking for a library card.

“Big Mac, about earlier-“

“Ain’t nothing to say Miss Sparkle.” She was about to speak again, but he raised a hoof to stop her, “Now Ah mean it. Ah ain’t mad at ya for what ya did. Ah know ya were just tryin’ to help my sis and Ah appreciate that. Ah’m just glad y’all are okay.”

“But you aren’t,” she said as she pointed to the bandages on his body. Which pretty much meant she was pointing to his body in general.

“Now don’t fret none, this ain’t nothin’ but a few cuts and cracks.” He smiled and it seemed to be enough to make the unicorn give him a genuine smile of her own and drop the subject altogether, “But can ya do me a favor and stick these inta my harness?”

She nodded and with a bit of magic managed to squeeze the books securely into his yolk while Big Macintosh made sure to hide the pain from the added pressure on his bruises. With a last goodbye he left the library and made for home.

-*-

The next week was spent in boredom interrupted with a bit of light reading. While the book on carpentry proved helpful, there really was nothing he could do until he made a full recovery. And though the book on poker strategy filled him in on a few pointers, most of what it covered he had already known. Things like an ante being the beginning community bet before the deal and a bring-in being the bet that a player places after the first cards are dealt, usually the player with the worst showing hand. Other than that, the rules for Whinnyssippi Stud were pretty straightforward.

First three cards were dealt, two face down and one face up followed by a round of betting. Then two more face up cards and another round of betting. Another face up card, another round of betting. Then a final up-card and a final round of betting before a showdown, where every player left revealed their hidden two cards and saw who could make the best five-card hand.

Other than the cursory reading, he spent most of his recovery laying about the house like a useless red rock. At first he had tried to sneak in a few chores, nothing particularly hard, just chores like moving some buckets of apples and fixing the fence that bordered the Apple family property. But once Applejack found out she gave him such a verbal lashing that he didn’t dare try it again.

So he resigned himself to the less physically challenging chores like cooking and cleaning to clear his boredom. But once the fridge became packed with leftovers and the hardwood floors started losing their color Applejack quickly relieved him of these chores as well.

After that there was nothing to do but figure out the farm’s budget. An endeavor he gave up on after the first couple of hundred fiscal years. After all, speculating on the supply and demand of apples, extrapolating the farm’s revenue, calculating the inflation rate, and theorizing on new technologies at that point was the sign of a desperate pony. Finally he settled on sitting about with a deck of cards and practicing his skills at dealing.

As the week went on and the day of the game drew nearer, Big Macintosh became more and more excited. Partly because of his quickly recovering body. Since leaving the hospital his cracked rib had begun to bother him less, to the point that his range of movement had increased drastically. Not to mention the dozens of cuts and bruises that healed since then, making him look like an actual pony rather than something from a horror novel. So when the day finally arrived he couldn’t wait to start a night of poker.

Big Mac was not a whole lot of sorts. For example, he wasn’t the sort to put himself in a position to lose money or the sort to be in any sociable scenario. But the extreme boredom and his slipping sanity had given him a strong desire for any little distraction the world could offer and if he could make a few extra bits from it, then it couldn’t do much harm.

As he and Applejack made their way to the barn he saw two other mares that even he, in his less than stellar social tendencies, knew of. Both legends in their own right, the first was a bright blue pegasus with a technicolor mane and tail known for her incredible speed and skill in flying. The other was a pink pony with a poofy curled mane that Big Mac was sure resembled what would happen if someone crossed cotton candy and marshmallows, a combination the party-throwing pony would no doubt enjoy. Both were waiting at the barn’s open doors wearing saddlebags similar to the one Applejack was wearing herself.

“Hey gals, Ah don’t think Ah need to introduced y’all to Big Macintosh. And Big Mac, Ah don’t think Ah ever properly introduced ya to Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie. Ah think you can guess which is which.”

He could, but there really was no need for an introduction. He had seen them dozens of times before but never really interacted with them much. He kept his famous blank face as he nodded his acknowledgment to each of them.

“Hope you’re ready to lose your bits, big guy,” the light blue mare said with a smug grin on her face. But Big Mac’s expression stayed the same though it took a great effort to keep a smirk from appearing on it.

“Big Macintosh!” Pinkie Pie bounced up and done with almost every word, “This is great because you know I know everypony in ponyville and I know you but I don’t really know you you know I know you in sort of a I see you around town sort of way but seeing isn’t knowing at least not really knowing so I’m so excited to get to know you so I can really know everypony in ponyville.” Pinkie Pie’s words, though not rushing out at an indistinguishable speed, came in one breath.

He looked at his sister, years of practice the only thing holding together his blank expression. Applejack took his signal and leaned her head towards him and he, in turn, lowered his own head towards her, “Just be glad she ain’t breakin’ inta song,” she whispered in his ear. All he could do was nod his thanks.

“Alright if we’re done talking then let’s get started, or do you just want to skip the embarrassment and give me all your bits now?” Rainbow Dash playfully taunted as she sauntered into the barn with Pinkie Pie bouncing alongside her.

“Now what makes you so doggone certain you’re gonna win?” an annoyed Applejack said as she followed the other two.

Big Macintosh stayed behind to indulge in a small chuckle. His little sister had always told him how much the technicolor pony got under her skin. What he didn’t expect was for her to get under his skin as well and so soon after first meeting her. He didn’t know what it was that penetrated his usually calm demeanor. Maybe it was her tone, her cocky attitude, the sound of her taunting voice, or maybe something else entirely.

But unlike his sister he wasn’t going to respond to her teasing gibes with annoyance, laughter, or even taunts of his own, that would be childish and not at all as satisfying as winning while playing the unassuming underpony. Not that he wanted to sound cocky or anything.

And with that thought he slowly walked into the barn to see it a bit cleaner than usual. The hay that had littered the ground had been swept, albeit only to the farthest corner. The room smelled better too, though more like scented candles rather than the actual smell of clean. In the center was a small card table set low to allow the four to sit at a comfortable level. On the table was a single deck of cards and right above was the only source of light, a single lantern hanging from a hook attached to one of the roof beams.

Applejack took the spot to the right, placed her saddlebag on the ground, and fetched two brown pouches that she placed on the table, “Ah got yer bits here, Big Mac. Now who’s dealin’?” Applejack asked as Pinkie Pie sat across from her, grabbing her own bit bag. Rainbow Dash meanwhile took the spot facing the door, which left the spot across from her for Big Mac. And honestly, he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“Why don’t we make the newbie do it?” Rainbow Dash smiled as she slid the deck towards Big Mac with a wink. Without hesitation he grabbed it and, while never breaking eye contact with the rainbow mare, shuffled the cards with a quick table riffle shuffle finished with a few running cuts. It was quite difficult with hooves, but that’s where the skill came in.

“Wow, that was amazing.” Pinkie Pie said and, bless her heart, it sounded sincere.

Rainbow’s reaction was a little less enthused, “Yeah, it was okay I guess.”

He ignored her and looked over to his sister to silently ask her for the betting structure.

She picked up on this immediately and looked at the other two, “Y’all mind if my big brother decides the terms?” she asked. Without much thought Pinkie Pie nodded while Rainbow Dash chose to add a few words.

“If he can talk long enough to do it, then sure,” she said before turning to Big Mac, “but we like to play for a few hours so keep the minimum bet low, alright big guy?”

While his face remained blank, he couldn’t help but be a little irked by Rainbow Dash’s name for him. But for now he only nodded before speaking, “Whinnyssippi Stud. One bit ante and a one bit bring-in, worst hand. Spades is the highest suit, then Hearts, then Clubs, then Diamonds. Betting minimum is two bits until the last two rounds, then it doubles.”

Despite himself, he was pretty impressed when the three mares all nodded in understanding. The night became a bit more interesting as he realized that maybe these fillies actually knew what they were doing.

The foursome placed their ante before Big Mac began dealing the first three cards and the game started amongst competitive silence. That was the best part for Big Mac about poker, the silence of it. All he had to do was vocalize a raise and call while the rest could be done with simple gestures. He could check by tapping the table with his hoof and fold by flipping his up-cards facedown. All the while he examined the other players for anything that could give him an advantage.

Applejack had the most obvious strategy, usually just playing a straightforward game. She raised a great hand, called a good hand, and folded a bad hand. She wasn’t much for bluffing for the obvious reason that bluffing was a kind of lying and her lying face was so horrible it was outright painful, and hilarious, to watch. But she also had a damning tell. Whenever she felt confident, a small smile crept across her lips when she took a peek at her cards. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough.

Rainbow Dash was quite the opposite. She played a loose game, almost never folding and almost always raising. Even when her hand looked the lowest on the table, even when her hand actually was the lowest on the table. Her only saving grace was her impeccable poker face. No matter how much she bluffed Big Macintosh just couldn’t see any tells on the mare, not on her wings, eyes, mouth, hooves, or ears.

Pinkie Pie…well, she was really in a league of her own. Her behavior was completely unpredictable. She would smooth call a pair of kings on fifth street one hand and fold the same several rounds later, but only after raising. She didn’t have a tell, if only because it was hard to separate it from the flurry of other activities she was prone to partake in. If she wasn’t bouncing she was talking, or singing, or humming, or standing on her head and playing her hand with her hind hooves. At first, Big Mac thought it was Pinkie Pie being random until the game went on and her share of bits became larger and larger.

Big Macintosh himself wasn’t one for complicated strategies. He only relied on his blank expression and a quick calculation of pot odds, expected value, and equity. He didn’t bother with bluffing since it wouldn’t be very effective against Rainbow Dash. Instead he played a passive game, allowing the other three to pick each other off.

Finally after a couple hours of clinking bits and small talk, Applejack was the first to lose all of her money. Not even skill and luck proved enough to overcome her tell. Rainbow Dash went next, her extensive raises and bluffs detrimental without the cards to back them up.

“Why don’t we take a break for halftime? Ah got some apple cider in the back.” Applejack said as Big Macintosh gathered the cards and gave them a quick shuffle. A chance to stretch his legs sounded really good right about now and he had been aching for a bit of fresh air. So after the other two agreed to the break he stood up and walked out of the barn to enjoy the pricks of the cool night air gently piercing his coat. A slight breeze glided around him and rustled the leaves of the orchard and for a moment he smiled.

“The moon looks sooo big tonight. I think Princess Luna isn’t as strong as her sister, or maybe she likes to show off.”

Big Macintosh looked to his right to find the pink pony sitting next to him and gazing up at the full moon hanging above them. He debated whether to answer her or not since there really wasn’t anything for him to add to the non sequitur or really any hook for him to continue the conversation.

Luckily, it didn’t seem like she was waiting for him to answer, “So…” for the first time in his rather limited interactions with Pinkie Pie she seemed to hesitate, “about what happened last week-“

“Ain’t nothing to say,” he cut her off, “Ah’m just glad y’all are a’right.” He really hated to have to deal with this yet again like a broken record. It made him wonder if Applejack had relayed his message or not.

“Well of course there are things to say silly,” she said, throttling back into her usual habits, “like ‘are you okay’ or ‘thanks for helping us out’ or ‘that’s a real brave thing you did’. There are hundreds of things to say and none of them are enough to say what needs to be said. So I wanted to throw a party to say everything I want to say all at once.”

Big Mac stiffened as the word ‘party’ left her lips, the last thing he wanted was to be the center of attention. He looked at her, “Miss Pie Ah don’ want-“

“Bring it in you two, we can’t wait to see who takes it all.” Applejack called from the barn. Pinkie Pie hopped back inside before Big Mac could say another word. He sighed and took a slow walk back to the barn.

“I think it was just beginner’s luck.” Rainbow Dash told his sister, just loud enough for him to hear.

“First off Rainbow, ya need ta be a beginner to have beginner’s luck. Second, it doesn’t take much ta beat a mare who thinks she’ll win a showdown with a pair of deuces and a jack kicker.”

“Hey, it was the best hand showing. It’s not my fault he had a pair of aces in the hole.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle quietly as he took his place at the table. With only two players left Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash switched places while Applejack stuck to her original spot. Big Macintosh grabbed the deck, shuffled and cut it, and dealt the first three cards to start the second half of the night.

The bits were divided somewhat evenly between the two and it stayed that way through most of the night. While Big Mac’s legendary poker face remained unreadable, so did Pinkie Pie’s barrage of randomness. It all came down to the luck of the cards and the skill of the bluff. He would turn out ahead with a full house only for her to win it back with a flush. For hours the two played and no clear winner showed themselves. After a while the two spectators decided they had enough.

“How ‘bout you two just call it a night and split the pot?” Applejack said through a stifled yawn.

“Aww, but the fun part of a card game is beating everypony else.” Pinkie Pie said as she moved the deck towards Big Mac for him to deal the next hand. He couldn’t help but smile at her mercilessness.

“Come on, Pinkie,” Rainbow Dash added, “you’re usually the first to lose anyway. Just quit while you’re ahead. Same for you, big guy.”

Big Mac just focused on shuffling the cards as he thought. It was getting pretty late, actually, and no matter how long they played they’d probably get nowhere for a good while. They could just bet it all on the next hand, but if he was going to lose so much money on how the cards played out he rather it be through a game of pure luck. At least then the loser could blame the cards instead of their play of the cards.

“Miss Pie,” Big Mac spoke and everyone looked at him with a mixture of surprise and attention, “ain’t nopony’s company Ah enjoy more than a pretty mare with a competitive edge, but Ah think it’d be best if we let lady luck decide the winner.” As he finished he placed the deck right at the center, drawing Pinkie Pie’s gaze to it. He could swear her eyes were literally glittering.

“Ooo, you want to draw for it. Okey dokey lokey, I’ll go first.” Without hesitation she drew the top card and flipped it on the table to reveal the three of Hearts. A low card to be sure, but Big Mac wasn’t ready to breathe easy just yet.

Silently he drew his own card, flipped it, and smiled at the two of Spades. With a small chuckle he pushed the pile of bits towards the winner and Pinkie Pie took them graciously, though with a short and loud cheer. She went on to counting her winnings bit by bit.

“Well that was anticlimactic.” Rainbow Dash droned with a roll of her eyes, “If that’s all then I’m off to bed, catch ya later.” With little more ceremony she hitched on her pack and flew off, the wind from her take off unsettling the table's balance for a second.

“She sure left in a hurry, Ah guess she’s feelin’ a bit sore from losing,” Applejack said before yawning, “'bout time Ah hit the hay myself. 'Night you two.”

And just like that Big Mac found himself alone with a hyper pink mare that was currently busy counting the bits she had won. Even though it didn’t take much to figure that a hundred bits per pony added up to four hundred. Still, it was pretty dark out and it didn’t seem proper to just send her off home alone.

“Ah’ll walk ya home Miss Pie, it’s the least Ah could do after a good game.”

“Sure thing, Macky, I had tons of fun too.” She smiled so sincerely he couldn’t help but return it, even if she did call him a stupid nickname.

Big Mac trotted at a gentle pace on the path leading to Ponyville with the bubbly mare bouncing alongside him. Her voice was going nonstop throughout. She talked mostly about the various misadventures she, his sister, and their friends always seemed to find themselves in. It seemed to him that a lot of their problems would have been resolved a bit smoother if they learned to ask a few questions before everything got out of control. But he was too polite to say anything.

“…and that’s where dragon eggs come from.” She finally finished about halfway through the path. Even though she was a bit hard to follow at times he couldn’t help but enjoy her ramblings. It meant he could focus on listening rather than thinking and worrying about what he was going to say. Maybe that was why he felt a bit down when she stopped.

But he soon found out that she hadn’t really stopped, only slowed down, “So…” again she showed that uncharacteristic hesitation, “what kind of cake do you like?”

He smiled, “Now is that the infamous Pinkie Pie tryin’ to use tact?”

“Well I…I thought that if I mentioned the party you wouldn’t want it so I thought you might like it better if you knew there’d be cake. Everypony loves cake.”

“Ah a’ready said Miss Pie, Ah don’t want a party.” It came out a bit firmer than he meant it to. Thankfully she didn’t seem to notice.

“Why not? You deserve it after what you did for us. Plus you’re always working on the farm, so I thought you’d like to relax a bit and not be so stiff.” She froze and fell to her side, still as a statue, to illustrate her last point. It was enough to get a small laugh from him.

Without thinking he helped her up, placing his muzzle underneath her and lifting her back to her feet. The faint smell of sugar and vanilla wafting into his nose made him realize how much he intruded on her personal space, even if it was to help her.

“Ah’m sorry,” he said, quickly backing a step away from her.

Again Pinkie Pie didn’t seem to notice a thing, “Thanks. Hey, did anypony ever tell you how much you smell like apples? I mean Applejack smells like apples too but you really smell like apples and I think a little like mud but in a good way like how dirt smells just before it rains.” She smiled in that way that forced him to smile back no matter how much he didn’t want to.

“Oh well, thanks. Ya…ya smell good too.” He practically cringed as the words left him and he hurriedly looked for any change of subject he could think of. “Ya think Ah’m stiff?” he said the first thing that came to his mind.

“Of course, you’re almost always working and I don’t think I ever see you with any other ponies besides your family. And I almost never ever see you doing anything fun.”

He had to stop and think about that for a moment. It was a new one that was for sure. He’d been called laid-back, boring, slow -in all its meanings- but never stiff. Sure he was hard working but he was quite proud of his work ethic. Was there really anything wrong with that?

“Ta tell ya the truth, Miss Pie, workin’ is fun fer me.”

Pinkie Pie stopped dead in her tracks and looked at him with a strange mix of horror and concern. Big Mac ignored her, choosing instead to keep walking. But he stopped when she appeared, seemingly from nowhere, in front of him. She got on her hind legs and balanced herself against him with her front hooves on his shoulders. She brought her face incredibly close to his, examining him with a stare of hard concentration. She looked into each of his eyes before stretching her neck to look into his ears inadvertently pressing her neck against his nose, causing her scent to intrude upon him yet again.

“Miss Pie, yer makin’ me a might uncomfortable.”

She paid no attention to him, “Show me your gums.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile as a sudden thought occurred to him. He took a practiced step forward, ducked his head beneath her, and with a quick lift flipped the pink mare on his back, but not without her letting out a surprised squeal. She was a bit lighter than Applejack, but then again it had been a while since he did this last and his memory might be a bit faded.

Pinkie Pie meanwhile was in a fit of laughter, “See, wasn’t that more fun than working all day?” Pinkie Pie shifted around until she was on her stomach and her breath fell on the back of his neck.

“It’s…a different sorta fun.” Big Mac said, continuing the walk as they entered the outskirts of Ponyville.

“A funner sort of fun,” she said and even though he couldn’t see her he could clearly hear the grin in her voice, “the kind of fun a pony has while at a party, especially one made especially for them.”

He sighed, “Miss Pie yer a sweetheart, ya really are, but ah just don’ want a party. Ah don’ feel comfortable around all those ponies.”

“What about a small one? Oh! What if it was a really small one, just you and the six of us?”

All was quiet for a few moments as Big Mac tumbled the thought through his head, but he didn’t have much time to think before Pinkie Pie continued, “You know we’re going to want to thank you no matter how much you don’t want us to. At least this way we’ll do it all at once.”

Big Mac thought about it for a moment before answering, “A’right Miss Pie that sounds just fine, but if it ain’t too much trouble Ah’d like it during the winter when the farm chores have lightened up a bit.” He secretly hoped that she would forget all mention of the party by then.

“Applejack rules, got it,” she said, chipper as always. He felt her shift again and this time felt her head rest on top of his, “But there’s something you have to do for me between now and then.”

Big Mac’s hesitated for a moment, “What’s that?”

“You have to have fun!” she said as she bounced off his back.

He sighed. “Fair enough, but Ah just don’t see why yer insisting so much.”

For the second time she appeared in front of him, but this time her body language was much more subdued and when she spoke it was almost in a whisper, “Because when I see you work on the farm, it reminds me of when I used to work on my family’s rock farm and how unhappy I was back then.”

Neither of them moved for a long while and neither of them said a word. Big Mac, taken aback by the sudden moment of emotion, just stood there as the wind blew through the hush between them. Finally he found the words he needed, “Miss Pie, Ah’m not unhappy.”

She smiled. “I know my family’s rock farm isn’t like Sweet Apple Acres and I know you’re not as unhappy as I was. But fun is still important. Even if you think working is fun it just doesn’t compare to real fun.” Her attitude changed in an instant and with a giggle she continued towards Sugarcube Corner with Big Macintosh, once he got over the sudden change in her mood, following close behind.

Finally, they arrived at the front of the confectionery and the two paused to say their goodbyes, “Goodnight Miss Pie, and Ah do appreciate y’all letting me join in on yer poker game.”

“I’m glad you joined, usually I just let Dashy or Applejack win because a game’s no fun if the same pony wins all the time.”

Big Mac couldn’t help but smile as he realized how exacting her randomness actually was during the card game. He couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to this crazy pink pony than she let on.

Pinkie Pie giggled. “Raging waters run deep too, Macky.” He was surprised when she seemed to read him so easily, until a small smirk crept across his face.

“Miss Pie, Ah surely don’t think it’s a matter of raging water runnin’ deep, but more of if mechanical balloons dream of electric toothbrushes.” He wondered for a brief instant if the pink mare’s eccentricity was rubbing off on him and, if it was, whether he really minded.

“Big Mac, you’re so random.” Pinkie Pie laughed and with a final goodbye entered her home and left him alone with his thoughts. And what thoughts they were.

As he walked back home her words kept echoing in his head. They bothered him a bit, not because they were insulting but because a small bit of him thought them true. Sure he had fun working on the farm with his family but she was right, it didn’t compare to the fun he had tonight dealing cards and talking to Pinkie Pie.

He mulled over his thoughts until he came to the edge of the gate marking the boundaries of Sweet Apple Acres. A small crunching sound made him look down at the twig he had snapped underhoof. As he saw his hooves an idea came to him. He brought them together, front and back, and with a whispered grunt hopped a few inches into the air, propelling himself a few inches forward just as he had seen Pinkie Pie do.

He smiled. In a life filled with routine, perhaps doing new things out of the norm was a good release. Though, these things would be small new things. No reason to reach Pinkie Pie levels after all, he’d leave that to the mare with the knack for it. As he walked the rest of the way towards his warm bed he promised himself to at least try one new thing a day and a fun one at that. But for now, he just tried to get the smell of sugar and vanilla out of his nose.

10. Falling Down

Falling Down

Big Macintosh was on his back looking up at the leaves of the trees. They gently swayed back and forth, but he couldn’t feel any wind. There on the ground, everything was motionless. He raised a hoof to the leaves, hoping to feel a bit of wind. It was no use. The trunks and branches looked the same as when he was just a colt. Didn’t ponies usually say everything looks smaller when they come back to visit places from their foalhood? Maybe he grew along with the trees. At least they didn’t have little sisters that told them to stop being trees.

He lowered his foreleg and rolled back onto his hooves, shaking his head. It wouldn’t do him any good to force some distracting thoughts to get his mind over what just happened. He needed to think, to lay everything out in a way that made sense to him. This was nothing compared to the argument he had with Applejack after plowing a field with Twilight. Back then his little sister had yelled and gotten angry. He wished she were the same way when she told him she didn’t need him. At least then he could blame what she said on her temper. Not like today when she spoke in such a calm tone, as if she told him to pass the salt.

Walking helped. He knew these woods like the back of his hoof, and right now he just needed to get lost. Both in his thoughts and in Paradise Woods. Walking where there was no path didn’t daunt him. He simply circled around the campsite, giving it a wide berth, and headed for a little patch of lakefront hidden amongst the trees. He and Applejack used to go there as sort of a secret base. He pushed the memory aside. No point in reminiscing anymore.

The trees soon thinned and the little shoreline was just as he remembered it. Though he found another pony in his secret place.

Fluttershy lay on her stomach right in front of the lake and beside a small loaf of bread, throwing a few crumbs into the water every so often. She hadn’t noticed him yet. If it was anyone else he would’ve sneaked away, but it was Fluttershy. She was probably the only pony that didn’t grind on his nerves during the trip, and it helped that he wouldn’t feel any pressure to talk. Still, he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to be around anyone right now.

As he dwelled in his thoughts, Fluttershy turned her head and finally noticed him. She smiled, and silently waved for him to join her. He took a step back, hesitating for a few seconds. He looked to the trees he just came from, wondering if she might mind if he simply walked away. He turned back, and she was still smiling. Macintosh tried to smile back, but he couldn’t. Instead he walked towards her.

Coming closer, he finally saw what she was using the bread for. Fluttershy was throwing crumbs to a large fish. Though one that he had never seen before. It’s pale white body was thin and elongated though it’s bright red and orange speckled fins swirled around it like drapery. Where its fins met its body was a touch of dark iridescent blue. It reached its head out of the surface of the water to eat the breadcrumbs and when it was done with them would splash the surface of the water to ask for more. After staring for so long, Big Macintosh couldn’t hold his tongue any longer.

“What kind of fish is it?” His whisper spooked the creature and with a splash it swam into the deeper depths of the lake.

“Oh, don’t be scared,” Fluttershy whispered to the water’s surface. She waited a few seconds and when the fish didn’t come back she turned towards Macintosh with a small smile. “I’m not sure, I’ve never seen one before. They might be really rare. I think she’s scared of noises.”

Macintosh nodded. Right now, staying quiet was something he could do wholeheartedly. He rested, on his stomach, on the cool sand and watched the small ebb and flow of the lake water. He was right. The silence with Fluttershy was an easy one. There was no need to flirt, or debate, or brag. He could just…exist along with his thoughts. A good thing, since he never had to think more in his life.

The thoughts ran unhindered. What did it mean when Applejack told him to focus on his own life? His life was the farm, his life was his family, wasn’t that enough? Not for Applejack obviously. Still, he practically spent his whole life in the apple orchard providing for his loved ones. What was he supposed to do now? It was all just so confusing. To work towards everything Sweet Apple Acres was today only to be dismissed like a paid farmhand, and not a pony that gave himself to the dirt.

A small splash took him out of his head. Macintosh raised his eyes towards the lake and saw a curtain of red and orange. The fins separated to reveal the pure white body of the fish. Fluttershy smiled and silently tossed a couple of breadcrumbs into the water. It seemed to scare the creature, disappearing once again below the surface, but soon the crumbs vanished as well. Seconds later the it appeared again, and she splashed at the water for more.

From the corner of his eye Big Mac saw Fluttershy’s hoof come towards him and drop a piece of bread beside him. He looked at it and then to her, and she responded with a shy smile. His expression remained unchanged as he broke off a crumb and tossed it towards the colorful fish.

The two ponies stayed beside the water and threw breadcrumbs for a while after that. Big Macintosh was surprised by how much the fish could eat. She almost ate the whole loaf. Only a bit of crust was left before, with another splash, she went back to the depths of Paradise Loch. Macintosh was a bit glad to see something so beautiful, even if he really couldn’t show it.

With the fish gone the pair returned to a comfortable silence. He didn’t know how long they stayed there, only that he didn’t mind being there. Feeding the fish seemed to calm him down quite a bit, and his thoughts were a bit lighter. Maybe he should talk to Applejack again, and ask her what she meant when she said all those things. That’s all he needed, a good talk with his sister. There was no way she meant what she said, but getting a moment alone with her would be a problem with all the ponies on the trip.

“What’s wrong?” Fluttershy asked quietly.

He contemplated the question longer than any pony really should have. “You still thinkin’ about the Squall?” he asked.

“Oh…uh,” she started, her voice getting softer until it faded completely. She could only nod. Macintosh looked over at her, and his eyes met hers. They were watering.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What if…what if I had asked for help sooner?” she said with a sniff. The words came out in a rush, eager to get out. “If I went to Twilight and you as soon as I thought something was really wrong then maybe he would have…made it, and…and…” Her voice stuck to her throat, and tears began to fall down her cheeks. Big Macintosh didn’t hesitate and brought a gentle hoof to rub her back. Fluttershy didn’t seem to mind and leaned against his side, wiping her eyes against his shoulder. He stayed still.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I know crying won’t help but I could have done more…” she said before burying her face in his coat once again. Macintosh spoke only after she calmed down a bit.

“It’s a’right, Fluttershy,” he whispered, his hoof still rubbing her back. “Ya only did what ya thought was right. Celestia knows that’s all Ah ever try ta do.”

Fluttershy looked up to meet his eyes, and he had to look away and stare at their reflection in the water. “We can only do our best. Sometimes it ain’t enough. When that happens all we can do is learn from it, and hope we do better next time we’re needed.”

She nodded and leaned her head against his shoulder. “I guess so. I just wish I knew then what I know now.”

Macintosh nodded. “You an’ me both.”

The pair resumed their silence. At one point Big Macintosh dipped a hoof into the water and idly splashed the surface. How strange to see something like the colorful fish at the loch. Well, when he thought about it, he supposed that it wasn’t the fact that he saw it that was so surprising, only that he saw it for the first time. After visiting Paradise Loch so many times he would’ve thought he might have seen it before at least once. Then again those trips were a long time ago. He guessed some things were easy to miss if you didn’t know what to look for.

“Fluttershy?” Macintosh whispered.

“Yes?” she said, looking up at him, but still he avoided her eyes.

“You sure you never saw a fish like that before?” he asked.

“I’m sure. I’ve taken care of a lot of animals, and I know I’ve never seen it before.”

“Ah bet,” he said. “You know Ah sometimes hear a big ruckus over by yer cottage even over by the fields.”

“Oh,” Fluttershy squeaked, a blush forming on her cheeks. “There’s, um, a lot of animals at my house. The ones that I’m taking care of and the ones that visit me too.” She gave him a soft smile.

“Must be hard to have so many animals there all the time,” he said.

“Oh, they don’t stay very long, I always release them when they get better. It’s...hard sometimes though.”

“Really?” he asked.

She nodded. “I want to keep them and make sure they’re safe and they have everything they need. But I can’t. They don’t belong in a small cottage, and I know I couldn’t handle taking care of them all. It’s better to just let them go.”

“Must be hard to say goodbye,” he said.

“Oh no, it’s not goodbye. They visit me sometimes and I see them around the forest. So it’s not all bad.”

Macintosh nodded. He was prepared to go back to peaceful silence, but this time it only lasted a few minutes.

“Um…Big Macintosh?” Fluttershy whispered.

“Eeyup?”

“Do, uh, you know the way back to camp? I got lost when I was looking for someplace quiet.”

Big Macintosh paused for a moment. “But yer a pegasus.”

“I... I know. I was going to fly to find my way back but since you’re here I can just ask you.”

He pointed a hoof toward his left. “Just keep goin’ that way, shouldn’t take ya more than a ten minute trot.”

“Oh, thank you,” she said with a smile. “Would you, um, come with me? I mean, if that’s okay.”

He had to think about it for a minute. Time spent quiet had helped him calm down quite a bit, and, after what Applejack told him, trying to spend some time with his sisters didn’t seem like his biggest problem anymore. Not to mention Rarity. He didn’t even want to think about what that mare would do to him. Still, there was no running away from it. There was nothing he could do, he just needed to be ready to face everything and anything.

“Eeyup,” he said.

Fluttershy smiled at him and stood up, Big Macintosh quickly following suit. The walk back to camp was peaceful, and he made sure to go at a slower pace than usual. She didn’t seem to mind. The peace couldn’t last forever, and soon the trees thinned away and gave way to the flat plain of grass that was their campsite.

Big Macintosh quickly looked for Applejack and saw her by the now lit fire pit. A tripod of thick iron stood over the fire. A cast iron pot hung from it, and she was busy stirring its contents. It was now or never, and if he wanted to talk to her, now was the perfect time. So with a determined gait he started walking up to her, only to have a purple, curled mane block his way.

“Macintosh, sweetie, can we talk for a moment?” Rarity said without her usual confidence. Her eyes were focused on her right hoof idly scratching at the dirt. A quick sideways glance every once and a while was the only eye contact she gave him. Big Macintosh wasn’t exactly sure if it was all an act or not.

He ran a hoof through his mane as his eyes went back to Applejack. She had left her post beside the cooking pot to stand a few feet away from the two, watching them intently with a grin that was a bit too wide for his comfort.

But Applejack wasn’t the only one getting ready for a show. Rainbow Dash watched them from atop a cloud. If she was trying to be inconspicuous she failed utterly. Mostly because she lowered the cloud to ground level a few inches beside them. Rarity and Macintosh even watched as she levitated downward.

Pinkie Pie, meanwhile, stood beside the cloud, munching on some kettlecorn.

Fluttershy had joined Spike and a reading Twilight by the fire pit. All three were trying to mind their own business. All three failed. Fluttershy looked from the corner of her eye, and Twilight’s gaze would drift away from her book every once and a while. Spike, meanwhile, probably hadn’t learned much about discretion and simply stared at them from behind the cooking pot.

The Cutie Mark Crusaders watched them from the lakes shore. Their coats were still dripping wet as they rested on the sand, hoping to be dried by the quickly setting sun. Macintosh shook his head slightly. They should have gotten out of the water earlier. Wasn’t anyone watching them?

“Perhaps we should go somewhere more private,” Rarity said as her eyes drifted to the ponies surrounding them.

“We can talk later,” Big Macintosh said, ignoring the stares. “Get your towels and help me dry up the fillies before they catch a cold or somethin’.” He walked past her and towards the lake, and a few moments later Rarity was right beside him with a few towels levitating beside her.

“All right Macintosh, but I would really like to speak with you,” she said.

Big Macintosh grunted his response. He snatched a towel out of the air with his teeth and trotted up to Applebloom. She yelped in surprise as he dropped the towel completely over her. Not soon after, Rarity appeared beside him, handed a towel to Scootaloo, and started drying off her sister, much to the little one’s irritation.

“Rarity, I can do it,” Sweetie Belle said as she struggled against her sister’s magic. “You’re embarrassing me!”

“Nonsense,” Rarity said. “You’re lucky Macintosh noticed you three or else you would all be spending the rest of the camping trip with a cold.”

Her words didn’t do anything to stop Sweetie Belle’s struggling, but Rarity managed to dry her quickly and even managed to levitate a brush towards them and start tidying her sister’s mane.

Big Macintosh wasn’t having any more luck dealing with his own sister. “Hey! Ah’m old enough ta do it myself,” Applebloom said as her brother started toweling her off.

Macintosh sighed and removed his hoof from the towel. “Ah know,” he said, and took a step back. He was about to walk away when an orange hoof held out a towel towards him.

“Done,” Scootaloo said as her mane still dripped water.

He rubbed his temple. “No, you ain’t. Hold still,” he said before grabbing the towel and began drying her mane. She didn’t struggle and allowed the towel to do its job. After a few minutes he removed the towel and ran a hoof through her mane to make sure it was completely dry.

“How ‘bout now?” Scootaloo asked.

“Eeyup. Now get on outta here before Rarity puts a brush to ya,” he said.

Scootaloo nodded. She looked to her friends beside her, also ready to go, and all three trotted towards the fire pit where Applejack was back to stirring the pot for dinner. Her eyes, however, were still looking in Rarity and Big Macintosh’s direction. None of them really stopped paying attention to them. It was unnerving to have so many pairs of eyes on them, to say the least.

“So about that talk,” Rarity said.

Big Macintosh nodded. “C’mon, we can probably be left alone in the woods.” He walked towards the tree line with Rarity joining him. They were silent as they strolled beneath the branches. Only when they were well out of eyesight and earshot did Rarity trot in front of him to speak.

“Macintosh, I would like to apologize,” she said.

“It’s fine, Rarity.”

“No it’s not,” she insisted with a stomp of her hoof. “I was incredibly rude to you and said some things I shouldn’t have.” She sighed and looked to the ground. “At first I was angry at you for shouting at me, but I suppose my needless complaining wore on your nerves. Especially when you were pulling that heavy wagon.” She paused to shake her head and meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, Macintosh, I truly am. You were kind enough to invite me along even though it wasn’t your ideal situation, and I was such a-“

“Rarity,” Macintosh interrupted her with a raised hoof. “Ah said it’s fine.” He turned around and made his way back to camp.

Rarity sighed in relief as she trotted to catch up to him. “Good, I’m glad I was able to get that off my chest.” She smiled but Big Macintosh ignored her and kept his eyes on the trees in front of him. A few seconds of silence passed before she broke it once again. “So Macintosh, now that we’re clearing the air is there anything you would like to say?”

“Nnope.”

“Are you absolutely sure? You did say some rather…unflattering things to me,” Rarity said, her eyes narrowing.

Big Macintosh stopped walking for a moment and brought a hoof to his chin in thought. “Nnope.”

Rarity rolled her eyes. “All right, perhaps if I start. Macintosh, I’m very sorry that I called you an oaf.”

“It’s fine,” he said.

“Good. Now, would you like to apologize for anything?”

Macintosh knew what she was getting at, just not exactly what part she wanted an apology for. “Alright, Ah give up. What did Ah call ya that offended ya so much?”

“You called me a snob,” Rarity said matter-of-factly.

“That’s what yer so worked up about?” he asked, honestly surprised. “Heck, Ah’ve heard Applejack call ya that dozens of times, and maybe Rainbow Dash a couple more. Ah think even the Mayor-“

“I don’t care if they called me a snob,” Rarity interrupted. “I care that you called me a snob.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Um, well,” Rarity stuttered. “Does it really matter?”

“Ah think it does,” Big Macintosh said.

Rarity broke eye contact once again. Big Macintosh, however, kept looking at her with his half-lidded gaze. She tried not to look at him, but would cast him a sideways glance now and again. Finally, she couldn’t avoid the question any longer. “Okay fine,” she said with a sigh. “When Applejack or Rainbow call me a snob I know they’re saying it lightheartedly. They don’t really mean it. But when you said it, and with such anger behind it, I felt—I feared that you were putting me on the same tier as Blueblood and every other rich pony that might disregard you simply because of where you came from or how you speak, and not realize how charming or intelligent you truly are. It’s not a comparison I like to encourage, especially since it’s one that so many ponies are eager to make.”

Macintosh nodded and continued walking towards camp. “Still not sure why you would care so much about what Ah think.”

“Well I do,” Rarity said beside him. “So will you apologize?”

Macintosh thought for a moment. Of course he would, he just wish that it didn’t seem as if he didn’t really have a choice anyway. “Ah’m sorry Ah called ya a snob.”

“Apology accepted,” she said with a smile as she stepped a bit closer to him.

“Ah still think you’re prissy, though,” Macintosh added.

“That’s fine,” Rarity said. “I still think you’re stubborn.”

“That’s fine.”

She smiled at him. Big Macintosh liked her smile when there wasn’t any flirting behind it. It was just a genuine smile that showed genuine care. Without a word, she inched closer to him. He didn’t mind it...this time.

“Say Rarity, mind if Ah ask why ya wanted ta come along on this trip?” Macintosh asked.

Rarity didn’t answer for a few moments, her eyes focused on the passing trees. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but my relationship with Sweetie Belle isn’t exactly…we’re not as close as you and Applejack are to Applebloom. I was hoping I could use this trip to bond a little and perhaps stop fighting so much with Sweetie. I know it sounds a bit silly.”

Macintosh sighed as he kicked a small rock out of his way. “Ya know Ah saw ya durin’ the Sisterhooves Social all that time ago. If ya ask me Sweetie Belle’s lucky ta have ya. Yer as close to yer sister as Ah am with mine. Doesn’t matter if ya always get along or not. Heck, Ah remember when Applebloom got really mad at me and told me she hated me. Damn near broke my heart.”

“Oh?” Rarity said, looking at him with a shocked expression. “I just can’t imagine her saying that to you. What were you two arguing about?”

He tried to think back, but nothing ever came to him. He was positive that it had happened, he just couldn’t seem to place a time for it. “Ah forgot,” he finally said. “Ah just remember her saying it.”

Rarity nodded and the subject was dropped. Soon the pair found themselves outside the woods and back at the edge of camp. Macintosh sighed in relief as the talk with Rarity had come to a conclusive end. He looked off towards the horizon. The sun was close to setting now, only an hour or two until it disappeared completely. Thankfully, the cold wouldn’t set for a couple of hours after that.

“Hey you two,” Applejack called from the firepit, “y’all better get some grub before everypony else eats it all.”

Everyone else was indeed sitting around the fire eating their fill of what Applejack had made. By the smell of it, Big Macintosh figured she made chili; a campfire classic. He looked at his sister as she ate with her friends, talked with them, and laughed with them. It was a strange bitter kind of happy he felt. He was happy that she had such good friends. He was happy that she had found a life outside the farm. He was happy that his sister had everything she could ever want.

He just wished it hadn’t cost him their relationship as brother and sister. She was all grown up now. Maybe she really didn’t need him anymore. Maybe neither of his sisters did. Nevertheless he couldn’t help but feel a little tug at his heart. A longing for the way things were so many years ago. When it came down to it, he still needed them.

He shook the thoughts away. No, that couldn’t be right. Of course his sisters still needed him. Just because Applejack said it doesn’t mean she was right. He just needed to talk to her and make her realize that.

“Go on ahead,” he said to Rarity before turning back towards the woods. “Ah need ta… grab more firewood.”

“You’re not eating?” she asked.

“Nnope. A meal of beans, mushrooms, and tomatoes ain’t the best thing to eat in a camp full of mares,” he said.

“You... probably have a point,” Rarity said. She gave him a wave and headed for the campfire.

He didn’t go far into the woods, only far enough to be out of their sight. He placed himself by the shore, resting on his stomach. His hoof splashed against the water’s surface, hoping to call that colorful fish to him. Seeing it again might make him feel better. It certainly did the last time he saw it. It never appeared.

For the first time Big Macintosh didn’t want to think about anything. He suddenly felt tired, and all he wanted to do was get some sleep. He rested his head on his forelegs, and tried to shut his eyes. His thoughts, however, kept him awake. He wondered if Applejack resented the choice he made. No, that wasn’t right. Back then it was work the farm or let it go under, sell the land for chickenfeed, and move in with his aunt, uncle, and Braeburn in Apploosa. Not much of a choice. Did he sacrifice spending time with his family? Yes, he did. But it meant giving them what they needed. If Applejack couldn’t see that then...

Macintosh sighed and took in a deep breath to ease his mind. It started to get dark now, the sun now almost completely hidden by the horizon over the lake. He took another breath and as he did he smelled the last thing he wanted to smell: sugar and vanilla.

“Hey Macky!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed happily as she appeared with a hop beside him. “Ow,” she said after the small action, placing a hoof on her stomach. She lay next to him and rolled on her back, rubbing her distended stomach. “I think I ate too much.”

Big Macintosh closed his eyes as he tried to get some sleep, but it was useless. So without opening them he decided to get into a conversation with her. Maybe her rambling could lull him to sleep. “Pinkie, Ah’ve seen ya eat a whole cake no problem. You tellin’ me my sister’s chili is too much for ya?”

“Uh-huh,” Pinkie said. “Sweets are light, but this feels like I ate yummy cement. Now my stomach hurts.”

Macintosh sighed and lifted a hoof to rub her stomach. She cried out in surprise, but relaxed once she realized what he was doing. After a few seconds both ponies heard an intense gurgling from her gut, and Pinkie Pie’s forehooves shot up to cover her mouth. She couldn’t contain it, and a fierce belch erupted from her. Big Macintosh removed his hoof and shuffled around a bit to get the most comfortable.

Finally the belch stopped, and Pinkie smiled in relief. “Ah! Much better,” she said with a laugh. “Thanks, Macky.”

He grunted, and waited for her inevitable ramblings, but they never came. A bit surprised and tired of waiting, Macintosh opened an eye to see if she had left. She hadn’t. She was staring at him as she rubbed her chin. Sighing, he shut his eye once again and tried his best to ignore her.

She didn’t make it easy. When Macintosh felt a poofy mane at the crook of his neck his eyes snapped open. Pinkie Pie had her ear to his chest, forcing him to raise his head to get his chin as far away from her as it could get. Pinkie placed her front hooves on his shoulders and shook him.

“What in the hay are ya doin?” he asked.

Pinkie stepped away from him. She wasn’t smiling. “Checking for rocks,” she said. She constantly plodded her hooves against the ground, anxious to do something but unsure what.

Macintosh sighed. “Ya wanna know how ta make me feel better?”

Pinkie’s face immediately lit up, and she shook her head so hard he was sure it would fall off.

He brought his head back to rest on his forelegs. “Sit beside me and talk. Keep talkin’ and don’t stop ‘til Ah say so ‘cause Ah don’t feel like talkin’ back.”

“Okie dokie lokie,” Pinkie said with a smile before coming to sit beside him. She faced the lake and started talking. Big Macintosh drifted in and out, listening to her voice. He still couldn’t sleep, but he didn’t mind so much now. For once her voice was better than silence. He couldn’t hear his thoughts when she rambled.

“…and then it landed right on my hoof so I couldn’t mail the letter to my sisters for a whole week!”

Big Macintosh’s ear twitched. He opened his eyes and turned to face her. “Ya never told me ya had sisters.”

“I didn’t? Oh! I guess I didn’t. But I do. Two of them. So anyway, I finally went to the post office and-“

“Ah’ve never seen ‘em,” he said.

“Oh, well, they moved off the rock farm few years ago, but they don’t visit Ponyville much,” she said.

“So where are they now?” he asked.

“Hmm, Blinkie’s in Manehattan University getting her doctorate in psychology and Inkie’s theatre troupe is performing in Trottingham this month,” Pinkie said with a smile.

Big Macintosh looked at her for a few moments. “How often do ya get to see ‘em?”

Pinkie Pie hummed in thought. “Maybe a couple of times a year, I guess. Blinkie’s really busy writing and studying and stuff, and Inkie’s always performing. But I always make sure to send them lots of letters and cakes and pies and cupcakes, and they always send something back. Inkie sends stuff from the cities her troupe performs in, and Blinkie sends copies of magazines that published her stuff.” She giggled. “I always give those to Twilight.”

He was silent for a few moments to take everything in. “Don’t ya ever miss ‘em?” he asked. “Ah don’t think Ah’d… Don’t ya ever want ta see them more often?”

“Of course I miss them,” Pinkie Pie said, “and sure I’d like to see them more. But I know that they’re doing what they love and it makes them happy, so I’m happy. Even if I can’t throw them parties as much as I want.”

Big Macintosh sighed as he rested his head once again. “Pinkie, Ah take back what Ah said. Ah sorta want everythin’ ta be quiet for a bit. That alright with ya?”

Pinkie nodded. “Sure, I can do that.”

Despite what she said, she still fidgeted a bit as she lay silently next to him. He didn’t mind so much, busy as he was in his thoughts. He wondered at his mood. One minute he wanted her to talk and the next he wanted her to be quiet. One minute he wanted to be alone and the next he didn’t. He chalked it up to stress.

The sun finally completed its arc across the sky when Big Macintosh decided he had enough of thinking. And this time he meant it. The first few stars began to twinkle above them, and a cold breeze ran through the two ponies and the leaves above. He knew it would soon get even colder.

“Let’s head back ta camp,” he said as he stood up, and Pinkie Pie did as well.

“Are the rocks gone?” she asked as the two started walking through the woods.

“Eeyup,” he lied. Pinkie’s grin faltered until it was a sad smile, one that he couldn’t stand. “Don’t worry ‘bout me Pinkie, Ah just need some time alone ta think.”

Pinkie gave him a smile that told him she didn’t really believe him. They were silent the rest of the way. Once they got out of the trees and into the campsite Big Macintosh immediately walked off to where his sleeping bag was apart from the rest of the camp. He ignored everyone else discussing the sleeping arrangements as he grabbed the bags of gravel and rocks and moved them farther away to allow him to spread his bedroll to its full size. A few lumps could be seen beneath it.

“I know you like work, but did you have to pack one of your fields with you?” Rainbow Dash said as he approached him with a grin. Big Macintosh grunted as he unzipped his sleeping bag and opened it fully, revealing eight thick blankets folded neatly within. He grabbed each one and placed them on the ground. Grabbing the first, he unfolded it and placed it on top to completely cover his sleeping bag. Rainbow Dash seemed to get the hint and walked away to leave him to his preparations.

Macintosh managed to place another layer of cotton and wool atop his sleeping bag and yet another. His hope to be alone started to rise only to quickly fall as Rainbow appeared once again with her own bedroll and started to unroll it beside his.

“So, uh, how cold does it get over here?” she asked.

He ignored her and continued to place blanket upon blanket on his sleeping bag. When all eight had been used, he grabbed one end of his sleeping bag and doubled it over once again. With a quick zip he was done, and his sleeping bag had practically tripled in size. Despite the layers inside, there was still plenty of room for Macintosh to sleep inside and still have more than enough space to move around. Only once he was done did he look up to find that he and Rainbow were the only ones still outside, the rest inside one of the massive tents Rarity and Applejack brought along.

“Alright, what’s the deal? You’ve been blowing me off all day,” Rainbow Dash suddenly said.

Big Macintosh grunted in annoyance before turning his head towards her. “What the heck are ya talkin’ about?”

“You know what I mean,” she said, taking a few steps towards him. “Like when you told me Applejack said she could beat me at hoof wrasslin’ just so you could get rid of me. You know how many times I’ve used that? I invented that. And when you kept complaining when I’d land on you, like you didn’t even want me there.”

“Well Ah beg yer pardon if Ah don’t feel like bein’ a pegasi perch. Was it too much trouble for ya to just land next ta me or something?”

“Well I’m sorry if I thought we were close enough that you wouldn’t mind, and I thought we were close enough that if you didn’t want to hang out then you could just tell me you didn’t want to hang out,” she said with a glare.

He returned it. “We’ve only been spendin’ time together a couple of months. Ah don’t think that’s enough ta be close.”

“Yeah sure, normally. But think about what went on in those two months. You stopped me when I couldn’t do it myself, we spent time in a hospital together, we played cards, went to a spa, not to mention the whole thing with the old applecart, and you called me your…sister.” She whispered that last word.

Big Macintosh took a step back and turned away from her, his cheeks burning. “That ain’t the sorta thing ya say out loud.”

Rainbow Dash looked away as well, her cheeks tinged red. “I know. But it helps with what I’m talking about. I don’t know. It sort of feels like you’d take it back if you could.”

“Ah wouldn’t,” he said quickly. “Ah just…gotta a lot to think about, Dash, and...” he trailed off. He wanted to say that sisters were the last thing he wanted to think about right now, but he couldn’t.

She nodded. “Then just say so. You had me thinking I did something to piss you off,” she said. He didn’t comment.

The atmosphere around the two ponies seemed to relax quite a bit. “You know,” she whispered, “I wouldn’t mind talking about it if it makes you feel better. I mean, sure I’m not the best when it comes to this sort of stuff but…” she trailed off, and Macintosh tried to smile. He couldn’t.

“Thanks, but I want ta do this alone for now,” he said. He tried to stifle a yawn and looked at his sleeping bag. “Hopefully after a good night’s sleep.” He removed his harness and placed it beside his bed for the night.

“Yeah, I hear you,” Rainbow said as she got into her sleeping bag. Macintosh noticed how thin it looked.

“You sure yer gonna be alright with just that? Ya might wanna get inside one of the tents.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it,” she said.

He shrugged and squirmed into his thickly layered sleeping bag. The extra blankets provided a warm enclosure, and he sighed in comfort and relief from the cold.

Despite what she said, Macintosh couldn’t help but look over at Rainbow Dash every minute or so. It was around the eighth time that he looked when the last embers of the fire pit died away into ash, and a cold wind began to blow. The temperature didn’t fare any better as the night went on.

He knew the coldest point of the night had arrived when his breath became visible and blew away into the night. Finally, he saw what he expected all along as Rainbow Dash violently shivered within her bedroll. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately), Mac’s own sleeping arrangements provided plenty of warmth.

“Get inside one of the tents, Dash,” he said.

“I’m fine,” she said through her clattering teeth. “I’m tough enough.”

Macintosh ran a hoof through his mane. Sometimes dealing with the stubborn mare tried his patience. He tried his best to come up with an idea. It didn’t take long. “I know,” he said, “but Ah’m not. Ah ain’t so tough an’ heartless ta let one of my sister’s best friends freeze to death right next to me.” Rainbow looked over at him with a quirked eyebrow and red cheeks, and he knew he was on the right track. “Pretty selfish of ya ta put me through somethin’ like that, and after all that talk about how close we were.”

Rainbow looked down at the grass, her eyes narrowed in thought. After a few seconds she moved out of her bedroll, but instead of heading for the tents she headed for him.

“Scoot over,” she said. Instead, Macintosh started to get out of the sleeping bag completely. Before he could, Rainbow placed a hoof on his head to keep him still. “Where you going? I just said to scoot over.”

He easily batted her hoof away. “No offense, Dash, but Ah ain’t too comfortable sharing a sleepin’ bag with ya, or any mare for that matter.”

She laughed. “So you rather share a tent with, like, three or four of them?”

“Nnope,” he said, as he got out completely and suppressed a shiver from the sudden chill, “but I figure Ah can use yer sleeping bag. Shouldn’t be much trouble.”

“So after all that talk of not being tough enough to see me out in the cold you’re going to do the same thing to me?”

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said as he went over to Rainbow Dash’s sleeping bag and draped it over himself like a blanket. She stared at him for a few moments, and he could see the gears in her head turning.

“You know what happens when you break a Pinkie Promise?” she asked as she went inside his sleeping bag.

Macintosh yawned, trying his best to seem uninterested in both her talk and the biting cold. “What?”

“Let’s just say that it’s so bad that I didn’t tell Pinkie and Applejack about the bags of rocks I unloaded. You’re lucky to have such a great friend like me. A friend that would keep you from getting into trouble,” Rainbow said with a smirk.

“A friend that ain’t got a problem with blackmailing me?” Macintosh said.

“You said it, not me,” said Rainbow, still smirking.

Big Macintosh didn’t know how bad breaking a Pinkie Promise would be, but he did know how angry Applejack would get if she found out. The last thing he wanted was to face that again, especially after what had happened that afternoon. With a sigh he stood back up, the sleeping bag falling to the floor, and got into his own alongside Rainbow Dash. There was plenty of room, which unfortunately meant that he couldn’t use his bedroll’s size as an excuse to get out. He promised to bring a smaller bedroll next time.

“So why did you put those bags of rocks on the cart?” Rainbow asked. “You’re not the kind that shows off.”

“It wasn’t to show off,” Macintosh said as he folded his forelegs in front of him and rested his head. “Do we gotta talk about this?”

Rainbow shrugged. “I just want to know. I mean, Applejack’s tough enough to pull the cart on her own. No real point in making it heavier.”

Macintosh closed his eyes. “Just ‘cause she’s tough doesn’t mean she has ta use it all the time. She helped save Equestria more times than Ah got hooves. Least Ah can do is pull a dang cart,” he whispered.

He felt her press her side against his. “C’mon Mac, the way you say it it’s like you think that’s all your good for,” she said with a small laugh. He didn’t say anything more, and just tried his best to get to sleep. After a few moments Rainbow spoke again. “You know that’s not true, right?”

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said, “Ah make a pretty nice perch, Ah hear.”

“Damn straight,” Rainbow Dash said with a laugh as she half-leapt and half-crawled on top of him. He remained motionless, though thoroughly annoyed, and allowed her to rest on him. She yawned loudly. “Comfy,” she said.

Macintosh groaned quietly. “Wouldn’t a cloud be softer?”

“Well yeah, but a cloud doesn’t, uh,” she stopped. He turned his head to try to get a better look at her but he couldn’t twist his neck far enough. He settled with simply waiting for her to go on. “You, uh…breathe,” she finally said.

“Ah what?” he asked.

“You breathe,” Rainbow Dash said again. “And the sound kind of helps me sleep. Like when we were in the hospital. I couldn’t sleep until I started listening to you. And then there was the time at the spa. Sure the massage made me sleepy, but once Rarity stopped chattering I listened to your breathing again and fell asleep. Then when you carried me home on your back I…well you get the point.”

Macintosh sighed as he rested he head again. “Ah don’t think Ah do. What’s me breathin’ gotta do with you bein’ comfortable?”

“I, uh...” Rainbow didn’t answer for a few minutes. “It just makes me feel like I’m not...completely...” She groaned in frustration and tapped her hoof against his shoulder. “Look, when I was little I...”

He shook his head. “Ah get it, so stop before ya hurt yourself. Now if ya don’t mind can ya get off of me?” he said quietly. She paused before finally falling off of him. As soon as she did, Macintosh rolled onto his back and gazed upwards.

“Ah won’t mind if ya happen ta nap on me every once in a while, but try not ta over do it. Like right now. Ah like ta be on my back when Ah’m sleepin’ outside, Ah get a better view of the stars,” Big Macintosh said. Rainbow Dash looked at him before rolling over on her back as well.

The small and slow clicks of crickets whispered all around them as Big Macintosh stared at the billions and billions of stars lighting up the sky. Much more than could ever be seen even at Sweet Apple Acres. The sky was absolutely clear of any obtrusion; cloudless and moonless. It took up his entire sight, and absolutely none of the earth could be seen. It was as if he was floating in the vast expanse. It surrounded him, making him feel so small. In the never-ending sky his problems didn’t seem so important anymore, and for a few seconds he almost forgot about everything that had happened. He actually felt a little better.

Soon Rainbow Dash rolled to her side toward Macintosh and fell asleep beside him. She nuzzled up against his side. His muscles tensed against her touch. Slowly, so as to not wake her, he squirmed away from her to the other side of the sleeping bag. To no avail, as Rainbow Dash simply moved to close the gap. This time bringing her wing to drape over him. Enough was enough; he couldn’t sleep like this. He gently moved the wing aside with a sigh, and eased his way out of the sleeping bag.

He instantly felt the brisk chill of night, and looked around for any sort of sleeping arrangements he could find. Rainbow’s sleeping bag was still on the ground in a clump, but there was no way it would provide enough warmth. He would be up all night shivering, and the last thing he wanted was to wake up with a cold and everyone pestering him with questions about his health.

He looked over at the tents. Maybe they had some blankets he could borrow. Any at all would help, but he would hate to wake them up at this hour. Still, it was either that or getting back in the sleeping bag with Rainbow Dash. No offense to the mare but...

He shook his head and made his way towards the tents. Stopping in front of the two tents he stood silent. He didn’t know who was in which tent, and maybe he would be lucky enough for someone to still be awake.

Relief swept over him as he heard a voice coming from the smaller tent. Leave it to fillies to stay up and talk to each other. He approached the tent and was about to tap on the closed flap, but stopped when he heard his name mentioned.

“So when are you an’ Mac gettin’ hitched?” He recognized Applejack’s voice, and soon after came Rarity’s.

“How many times do I have to tell you there’s absolutely nothing between us?”

“That ain’t what my sister and yer sister said.”

“Well, Applejack, I assure you that they’re quite mistaken.”

“Aw heck, ya ain’t gotta be so formal. You can just call me ‘sis’.”

“Applejack!”

He heard laughter, mostly Applejack’s along with a small chuckle from what sounded like Twilight.

“Hey Pinkie, you feeling okay, sugarcube?” Applejack asked. “You ain’t laughin’ as much as usual.”

“I don’t think Mac is happy,” Pinkie said.

Applejack sighed. “Tell me somthin’ Ah don’t know. Ya shouldn’t feel bad about it. Heck, ain’t it kinda like the time ya tried ta help that donkey? Cranky, Ah think.”

“This isn’t like that at all!” Pinkie said. “Cranky was grumpy, but that’s just how he was. Even when I found Matilda for him he was still grumpy, but he was happy too, so I was happy. Macky is happy sometimes, and when he is he’s really, really fun, but when he’s sad or angry he’s...not fun.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “I just wish he was happy all the time so he could be fun all the time.”

“Ah want that too, sugarcube. But when it comes to that stallion time’s the only friend ya got. He ain’t the kind to change at the drop of a bit.”

“I’ll say,” Twilight said, “I’ve been trying to get him to understand his own intelligence, but it’s like he doesn’t care about anything if it’s not farm work.”

“Agreed,” Rarity said. “I couldn’t believe how much he knew about art when I took him to Canterlot. He even impressed Fancy Pants. Why, with that confidence, and if he were to really set his mind to it, I’m sure he would hold his own against any of the Canterlot elite.”

“He knows all that. He just...doesn’t care.”

“I know that, Applejack,” Twilight said. “What I want to know is why. Why doesn’t he care about anything else besides Sweet Apple Acres?”

“Okay look, Ah’ll tell ya but,” Applejack paused for a brief moment, “y’all gotta promise me that you won’t say a thing to Big Macintosh about it.”

They all gave their promises, and Applejack continued. “The thing ya gotta understand ‘bout my brother is that, well, things were different when he was a colt. He read a lot of books, he had a wagon-load of friends, and he was fun all the time. But then our parents... left. Me an’ Applebloom were too young to work on the farm, Granny Smith was too old, and everypony else in our family had farms and businesses of their own to take care of...” Applejack trailed off and the tent became silent.

Macintosh took a step back. He hoped and prayed that Applejack wouldn’t go on, that she would shut her big mouth and leave it be. The last thing he wanted was for them to know. He thought of leaving, of going far away where he couldn’t hear, but that wouldn’t change anything. Instead, he held his breath and prepared for the worst.

“So that only left Macintosh,” Twilight said.

“Yeah,” Applejack whispered.

“I don’t understand,” Rarity said, “he changed simply because he worked on the farm?”

“He didn’t just work on the farm, Rare,” Applejack said, “he gave his life to it. Sweet Apple Acres was nowhere near as big as it is today, but it was still too big for a single pony to handle. He quit school, stopped playing with his friends, started waking up before sunrise, and worked the farm for the whole day. Sometimes he wouldn’t get to bed ‘til the middle of the night and only get a couple hours of sleep before the day started all over again.” Applejack sniffed, and he heard her voice waver just a bit. “Those were tough days for everypony.”

“But you’re old enough to help out around the farm and so is Applebloom. So why does he insist on spending so much time working?” Twilight asked. “If anything, these past few weeks have shown how little he has to work on at the farm. Sure, he’s not working as many hours as he did when he was little, but it still seems like a lot of his time is spent on Sweet Apple Acres.”

“Ah know,” Applejack said. “Maybe he just doesn’t feel like there’s anything else he needs to do.” She sighed. “Ah was kinda hopin’ that spending time with y’all would help out that stubborn stallion, least then something good woulda come from me tryin’ ta pull that dang applecart, but it doesn’t seem to be workin’ out.”

“Don’t worry, Applejack,” Rarity said, “it’s just as you said. All we need is a bit more time. It’s not as if it’s any trouble. I actually quite enjoy spending time with him.”

“Yer blushing.”

“I am not!”

Their voices died away as Macintosh walked toward the lake. Why did Applejack have to tell them all that? She didn’t even get the story right, and had left out his aunt, uncle, and cousin Braeburn. Not that either version was any better. Now he had to endure their looks of pity, as if he was some puppy with a hurt paw. What business did they have with how he was when he was a colt? He shook his head. No point in thinking about it now. The only thing he could do was pretend nothing had happened and avoid their eyes. Maybe in a few weeks they’ll forget about the whole thing.

He looked down at his reflection on the lake. Did his eyes always seem so tired? Did his frown always look so permanent? How idiotic he had been. Of course Pinkie would see how sad he was when his face made it so clear. He tried to smile just like he used to so long ago, before he had been injured. That smile was too lopsided. That one was too toothy. That one was too big. That one was too small. Finally, after trying on so many different smiles he found one that didn’t look so fake.

There wasn’t any point in a pony like her worrying about a pony like him. He wasn’t worth it. He would pretend to be happy so that she wouldn’t be so sad. It was the least he could do. Not to mention how his new found smile might make him seem less... pathetic. Maybe then things could go back to the way they were, and maybe then they would all stop caring.

He went back to Dash’s thin sleeping bag and once again draped it across himself like a blanket. He tried his best to lie down and get some sleep, but his mind kept going back to what Twilight had said. She was right, these past couple of months have proven how unnecessary he was. While it was true that the farm, and by extension his family, still needed him around, it wasn’t enough for him to actually feel as if he contributed to anything. If he was lucky he would still be needed to plow the fields. If not then the best he could hope for was pulling and pushing things to their place.

He closed his eyes, trying again to get some sleep. This time, it was Dash’s breathing that kept him up. He would never tell her this, but he liked her breathing as well. At least, he used to. It had reminded him of home and of his little sisters. Now it just reminded him of how much he didn’t matter anymore.

Big Macintosh waited for morning, knowing full well he wasn’t going to sleep tonight. He shivered beneath his meager blanket, despite his best attempts to suppress it. Finally, the cold and Dash’s breath became too much for him. He rose, allowing the sleeping bag to fall off him, and went to the fire pit.

A small pile of tinder and firewood stood beside the pit, and beside that was a piece of flint and steel along with a small bucket of water. He started a fire and stared at the orange and red glow casting shadows across the circle of rocks. The fire remained small, small enough to have a mug cover and extinguish it. He didn’t want it to wake up anyone else at camp.

He kept to his silent vigil for the rest of the night, every so often tending to the flame. At least he could take care of that.

-*-

Big Macintosh tapped the wooden spoon against the edge of the cast iron pot, making sure every bit of apple cinnamon oatmeal came cleanly off. He doused the fire with a bit of water, and with a yawn he fetched a few clean bowls and spoons to set beside the pot.

“Hey Mac, yer up early,” Applejack said with a yawn as she came up to stand on the other side of the fire pit. She brought her nose to the oatmeal and took a deep sniff. “Smells good.”

“Eeyup,” he said with his practiced smile. He tried his best not to look so tired, but there was no way he could hide the bags under his eyes. He turned around, his back towards his sister, not only to hide his exhaustion but to escape the large group that would soon come. “Ah’m gonna go lie by the shore.”

“You ain’t gonna eat?” she called after him.

“Ah a’ready did,” he lied.

As Macintosh rested on the sand other campers got out of their tents little by little. They said their good mornings to each other and sat down to eat. They chatted a bit, and he did his best not to hear. He had enough of that last night.

He hadn’t rested for long when they finished their meal and Applejack called out to him and beckoned him over. He swallowed a sigh, smiled, and went toward them.

“Eeyup?” he asked as he joined the group of ten. They had all finished eating and had stacked their bowls inside the now empty pot, ready to be washed. The Apple family always had a rule when it came to cooking: The pony that cooks it, cleans it. Macintosh was sure he’d have fun scraping the dried flecks of food off of everything. It helped that last night’s chili was probably as much of a pain to clean.

“Some of our campers here have questions about when we’re headin’ home,” Applejack said.

He nodded, though all the while kept his eyes on the fire pit. “We’re headin’ home ‘round two in the afternoon,” he said. “That’ll give us ‘bout six hours ta swim and hike and such, an hour ta pack everythin’, and still give us plenty of time to get the fillies home early enough ta get ready for school tomorrow.”

“Macintosh, sweetie, can we take a few breaks on the way this time?” Rarity asked.

“Ah suppose so. Ain’t like we gotta get there before the sun gets too hot. Anythin’ else?”

“Can we go on a hike, big brother?” Applebloom asked. Big Macintosh felt a bit of hope well up in his chest, but he quickly snuffed it out. He had learned by now that when she said ‘we’ it meant her, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle.

“Eeyup,” he said, “who else is comin’ along?” he asked.

“I would,” Twilight said, “but Fluttershy told be about a rare species of fish she’s found and I wanted to study it for a while.”

“I’ll go,” Pinkie Pie said, “...is what I would say if Applejack wasn’t teaching me how to make a cobbler over a campfire. If we’re lucky we can eat it before we go home!”

“I think I’ll stay behind. I’m not much for hiking, you understand,” Rarity said.

“I’ll stay here too,” Spike chimed in.

“Count me in,” Rainbow Dash said as she walked to stand beside Big Macintosh. He couldn’t help but notice that she stood close enough for their sides to gently touch each other. He looked at her, and her eyes met his. She took a small step away from him, though not without flicking her tail against his flank.

She turned towards the three foals. “You little fillies are in luck,” Rainbow said. “You’re going to spend time with the first and fourth, or maybe fifth, coolest ponies in Ponyville.”

“C’mon now, Dash, ya ain’t gotta be so hard on yerself. You’d make third in my book,” he said dryly, and she gave him a playful smirk.

“On second thought, I think I will come along,” Rarity said before coming to stand on Macintosh’s free side.

“You just said it wasn’t your thing, like, a few seconds ago,” Rainbow Dash said.

“Well, sometimes it’s good for one to step out of their comfort zone,” came Rarity’s reply.

Macintosh ignored them and turned to Spike. “Ah guess yer comin’ too?” he asked him.

“You read my mind,” Spike answered as he went to stand by Rarity.

Macintosh nodded and then turned towards his baby sister and their friends. “Maybe one of ya will get yer hiking cutie mark,” he said with a smile. Their faces lit up and they let out their usual cheer. “Let me just wash these dishes an’ we’ll head out.”

“Don’t worry about ‘em,” Applejack said. “Ah’m sure these fillies wanna get goin’ as soon as possible. Besides, Ah need the pot ta show Pinkie the cobbler recipe.”

“You sure?” he asked, his eyes trailing to the mess of a pot and bowls.

“Ah’m sure,” she said. “Now get goin’. The sooner ya come back the more time y’all have for swimming. Ah’m sure you three wouldn’t wanna miss that,” she told the Cutie Mark Crusaders.

“Yeah,” Sweetie Belle said, “maybe we could come back before it gets hot, and then cool off in the lake.”

“Sounds good,” Scootaloo said.

“Then what are we waitin’ for, c’mon big brother,” Applebloom added.

Macintosh smiled as he walked forward. “A’right, a’right.” The other six followed him as he entered the woods. He didn’t follow a path, instead going by pure memory. Applebloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo didn’t keep a straight path along the farmpony. Instead, they used the hike to explore every single plant and flower they could find. They zigzagged through the trees, all the while under the watchful eyes of their elders. Finally they ran out of energy and decided to slow down and walk beside the others.

“What kind of tree is that?” Scootaloo asked as she pointed to one of the hundreds of trees.

“Oak,” Macintosh said.

“And that one,” she asked, pointing to another.

“Oak,” he said.

“What about that one?”

“Oak.”

“Are all the trees here oak?” Scootaloo asked.

“Not all of ‘em,” Macintosh said as he took a quick look at the trees surrounding them. “That one right there’s a redwood, an’ that one’s a pine, an’ that one’s a fir. Ya can tell by the shape and color of the trunk an’ leaves.”

“So where are we goin’, big brother?” Applebloom asked.

“Ah’m takin’ y’all to one of my favorite places in Paradise Woods, but ya gotta keep it a secret ya hear,” he said.

“Wow,” Sweetie Belle said, “is it something like a cavern full of gems?”

“That used to be horded by a dragon?” Scootaloo added.

“That you forced ta go away like Fluttershy and Applejack did that one time?” Applebloom asked.

“Hey, don’t forget me,” Rainbow Dash said, “I totally wore that dragon down so Fluttershy could do her thing.”

“That’s not how I remember it,” Rarity said with a smile.

“Then maybe I should refresh your memory,” Rainbow said.

Macintosh interrupted their conversation before it could escalate. “Nah, it ain’t anythin’ like that. It’s just an interestin’ place to me.” His ear twitched as he heard the quiet babble of flowing water. “We’re close.”

“Close to what?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“To that,” Macintosh said as he pointed a hoof to a small river. It flowed in the direction they were heading, gently and calmly. The water was clear, allowing the ponies to see the shallow bottom.

“Huh,” Scootaloo said, “is this the river that feeds the lake?”

“Nnope, it’s just a tributary,” Macintosh said as he began to walk beside the river.

“What’s a tributary?” Applebloom asked.

“It’s a river that flows into another river,” Sweetie Belle answered.

“How the hay did you know that?” Scootaloo asked.

“Because I didn’t fall asleep when Miss Cheerilee was teaching us everything about rivers, lakes, and oceans,” Sweete Belle said with a proud smile before turning to him. “Big Macintosh, do you know where the headwaters are?” she asked, giving her friends a smirk as she did.

Macintosh smiled and playfully mussed up her mane, which Rarity quickly fixed with a bit of magic. “There’s an underground spring a few dozen miles upstream. Ya ever think that maybe you’ll get a potamology cutie mark?”

“Wait,” Applebloom said, “so what does that mean?” She turned towards Sweetie Belle, who simply shrugged.

“It means the study of rivers, sugarcube,” Macintosh said. “An’ before y’all ask, Ah read it in a book.”

“Oh?” Rarity said, “Do you read books often, Macintosh?”

No sooner had she asked when the group came upon a junction where their river met with another, much larger and faster flowing one. Macintosh thanked Celestia as he changed the subject. “Now keep far away from the edges. Last thing Ah wanna do is jump in after ya.”

Macintosh stood at the junction and quietly turned in place, taking in the surroundings. He finally saw a thickening of the woods in the near distance and started walking towards it, safely away from the fast flowing waters. Everything became dark as more of the sun was blocked by the boughs above. It only lasted a few yards, however, and soon the woods thinned out once again. Sudden gasps and exclamations of amazement emanated from the group as they finally approached their destination.

“There it is,” Macintosh said as they approached the foot of the tree. It’s roots were a gnarled mass that rose and fell out and into the ground like sea serpents. Some were probably as thick as a pony’s middle. They had to be, since the tree itself was a giant that stretched higher than any other in the woods. Its trunk wide enough that if all seven of them tried to surround it they would only go about halfway around, and its foliage provided enough shade for a whole other tree to stand in.

“Geez, trees shouldn’t be that big,” Rainbow Dash said.

“That’s like somepony seein’ you fly and sayin’ pegasi shouldn’t go that fast,” Macintosh said.

Rainbow hummed in thought for a moment. “Good point.”

“Some of these roots make their own caves,” Scootaloo called from below one of the roots that bent and combined with others so that it really did look like a shallow cavern, though only barely big enough for the filly to fit in.

Rarity and Spike, meanwhile, were circling around the trunk. “It certainly does have that aged wisdom quality, and the wood is such a warm and beautiful auburn. I think I’ll peel off some bark as a color reference.” Her horn glowed but Macintosh quickly interrupted her.

“Don’t,” he said.

“What?” Rarity asked.

“Ah said don’t,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “If yer gonna peel bark peel it from any of the other trees around here.”

“Why?” she asked

He ignored her and began to make his way through the roots to get closer to the tree trunk. When he got to its base he leaned his side against the cold wood and sunk to the ground with a sigh. The full brunt of his fatigue finally caught up with him. Thankfully, being near this tree filled him with calm. It must have been hundreds of years old. With that perspective, his problems didn’t seem so big anymore. For once he actually felt as if he could fall asleep.

Rainbow Dash was content with testing her balance as she walked on top of the thicker roots and jumped from one to the other. Meanwhile, the Cutie Mark Crusaders played tag with the added challenge of navigating the chaotic terrain. Big Macintosh smiled, a real one, as he watched them at play; jumping, ducking, and rolling around. A part of him wished that he were young enough to join them. There was no way he could traverse the root system so easily at his current size.

Soon they had stopped playing tag and were now talking amongst themselves. Every so often they would turn to look at him, only to quickly look away once they realized how obvious they were being. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what they were talking about.

“Hey Mac,” Rainbow Dash called as she flew a bit above him, “would you mind if I, you know,” she said with a smile.

“Not in front of my sister, she might get the wrong idea,” he said.

“Yeah, I hear ya,” Rainbow said as she landed beside him. “You know Applebloom and Sweetie Belle told me you and Rarity were going to get married?”

Macintosh rolled his eyes. “You too? Ah gotta set those fillies straight before it gets outta hand.” He pursed his lips and whistled, catching the three’s attention. He waved to bring them over.

“So it’s not true?” Rainbow asked while the fillies walked over to them.

“Course it ain’t,” he said.

“That’s a relief,” she said with a smirk. “No offense, but I don’t think you two would last.”

Before Macintosh could respond the Cutie Mark Crusaders sat in front of him, diverting his attention. “Ya called us, big brother?” Applebloom said.

“Eeyup. Now what’s this Ah hear about you an’ Sweetie Belle tellin’ ponies that me an’ Rarity are gettin’ married?”

“Aren’t ya?” Applebloom asked.

“Yeah,” Sweetie Belle added, “I thought you were after what happened at Rarity’s house.”

“Ah know it looked that way, but did any of ya think ta ask if it was true before ya started tellin’ other ponies?”

Sweetie Belle looked at the ground. “No…”

“Well if ya didn’t ask for the truth and just started talkin’ without making sure then all yer doin’ is gossiping. And Ah ain’t gotta remind ya what happened last time ya gossiped, right?” Big Macintosh asked.

The two fillies immediately took a step back from him and avoided making eye contact.

“That’s what Ah thought. It was an honest mistake this time so Ah ain’t mad, but Ah want y’all to know that there ain’t anythin’ between me and Miss Rarity. Understand?”

Applebloom and Sweetie Belle nodded, and Macintosh gave them a soft smile. “A’right, now go back ta yer playing. We’re gonna be leavin’ in a while, so get yer fill so ya don’t bug me to stay longer.”

“Okay, big brother,” Applebloom said as she turned back.

“Sorry, Big Macintosh,” Sweetie Belle said before following her friend.

“I’ll be right there you guys,” Scootaloo called after them before looking up at Big Macintosh.

“What is it, sugarcube,” the farmpony asked gently.

“Um,” Scootaloo hesitated, “so you and Rarity really aren’t getting married?”

“That’s what he said,” Rainbow Dash said before he could speak. “Why? Jealous?” she asked with a smirk.

“No!” the filly quickly said. “Applebloom and Sweetie Belle were talking about how great it would be being sisters and I was sorta...left out.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Rainbow said with a dismissive wave of her hoof. “your friends wouldn’t just leave you hanging like that. Just tell ‘em you feel left out and they’ll get it, trust me.”

“I guess you’re right,” Scootaloo said.

“Of course I’m right,” Rainbow said. “Besides, even if they were getting married and Sweetie and Applebloom were going to be sisters, all you would have to do is go to Big Macintosh and ask him if you can be his little sister.”

“Dash!” Big Macintosh said, and Rainbow just laughed.

“What? Like you’d say no?”

He shook his head and turned to Scootaloo. “Listen sugarcube, even if Applebloom and Sweetie Belle did become sisters that wouldn’t mean ya gotta be my little sister to fit in with ‘em. Heck, Ah’m sure you a’ready got an older sibling-”

“I don’t,” Scootaloo interrupted.

“Well then Ah’m sure yer parents are enough trouble for ya,” Mac said. “Ain’t no reason to bring a sibling into it. Sure their fun ta have but they can be a pain in the neck sometimes.”

“I...” Scootaloo whispered, “I guess so, but my parents aren’t really around that much, so I think it’d be kind of cool to have a brother or sister. I mean, I’ve never gone camping like this before and it’s really fun. I wish I could do it more often.”

Rainbow nodded. “Yeah, I know what it’s like when parents aren’t around. But hey, at least you have some great friends right, and like I said, if you ever want a big brother you could always ask Mac here,” she said with a smirk toward him.

Big Macintosh glared back before addressing the filly. “Now what’s this about your parents?” he asked.

“C’mon Mac, you should know, right?” Rainbow said. “Parents are too busy to pay any attention to you, so you just hang back and do your own thing. Right, Scootaloo?”

“Uh-huh,” she said. “My parents are always working, and sometimes I don’t even see them until late at night.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a problem,” Macintosh said. “Yer parents work hard to make sure ya have everythin’ ya need. You ain’t starving or homeless, so Ah think they’re doing an okay job.”

“Well yeah, sure,” Rainbow Dash said, “but if they’re working so hard that they can’t spend any time with their kid then what’s the point? I’m sure they don’t need to work that hard to make sure Scootaloo’s okay. Even if they did, they could probably work around it if they really wanted to.”

“Yeah,” Scootaloo chimed in, “I know they love me and everything. I just wish they spent more time with me.”

Big Macintosh leaned his head against the tree trunk and closed his eyes as memories started rushing to mind. Memories of times when a young Applejack wanted to play a game like hide and seek or play with her lasso with him. Memories of times when Applebloom would ask him to help her and her friends with a crusade. The answer was always the same: he was too busy. Soon they asked less and less until they stopped altogether.

He chose this, didn’t he? He willingly gave up the chance to be with his sisters. Maybe he really did cast them aside. But wasn’t it for a good cause? Wasn’t it so that they would have everything they needed? Maybe what they had needed, much like what Scootaloo needed now, was to be with the ponies they loved.

“Mac? You feeling okay?” Rainbow Dash asked. He opened his eyes and saw her staring at him. He didn’t answer her and instead turned towards Scootaloo.

“Scootaloo,” he said quietly, “all yer parents want is ta make ya happy. Tell ‘em what you told me an’ Dash an’ they’ll do their best to give ya what ya want,” Macintosh said.

“But...what if they don’t?” Scootaloo asked, still unconvinced.

Macintosh raised his head and leaned it towards the filly, and in a quiet voice said, “Then you come talk to me, an’ Ah’ll go talk to them. An’ Ah promise ya that when we’re finished talkin’ they’ll want ta spend as much time with ya as ya want them to.”

Scootaloo smiled. “Thanks Big Macintosh. I think I’ll go back to playing with Sweetie Belle and Applebloom.” With that she turned around and walked to rejoin her friends.

He watched her go until he felt a warm cheek rub against his. He looked over at Rainbow Dash, smiling at him.

“I wish you were around when I was little,” she said.

Big Macintosh stood up and stretched for a few seconds. “No, ya really wouldn’t. Ah don’t think...” he stopped. He couldn’t say it out loud. He couldn’t say how much he doubted whether he had done the right thing for all those years. Maybe he wasn’t as good a brother as he thought.

“C’mon, it’s about time we get goin’,” he said. Rainbow looked at him, a bit confused, and nodded before taking to the air.

He walked off through the roots, and he spotted Rarity and Spike not to far ahead. “We’re headin’ back,” Macintosh said as he approached them.

“Perfect timing,” Rarity said happily. “I’ll have plenty of time to rest before we leave.”

He nodded and led the way back towards camp. The walk was mostly filled with the Cutie Mark Crusaders talking amongst themselves. About halfway back Rarity and Rainbow Dash got into some sort of argument. Macintosh couldn’t bring himself to care, too preoccupied with his thoughts.

The group returned to camp in a mess of conversation, Macintosh part of none of it. The tents had been taken down and stored away. Everything else they brought had been put away as well, and all their gear was piled by the wagon ready to be loaded. The only things left to pack were his sleeping bag and the six sacks of rocks, all left secluded away from camp.

Applejack and Pinkie Pie were around the fire pit, tasting something from the pot. Judging by how fast Pinkie was guzzling it down the cobbler had been a rousing success. Macintosh doubted anyone else would get a taste. Fluttershy, meanwhile, was about wing-deep in the lake, leisurely standing in the cool water.

He looked up at the sky and saw the sun a little lower than its highest point, but it would get there soon. He turned to the fillies. “Y’all have a couple of hours to swim if ya want. Just make sure ya don’t head too far into the lake.” They cheered and headed for the shoreline.

“Swimming sounds pretty good right now,” Rainbow Dash said as she headed in the same direction.

“And I think I’ll take the chance to soak my hooves,” Rarity said.

Big Macintosh was left alone. He walked towards his sleeping bag, unzipped it, spread it out, and got started folding the blankets. After a few minutes his bedroll was neatly rolled at his hooves. He lifted it up to take it to the wagon when he saw his harness underneath. Macintosh brought a hoof to his neck and found that he truly hadn’t been wearing it all morning. He dropped his sleeping bag and, with a sigh, slipped the harness on his neck. It felt heavier than usual.

He picked up his sleeping bag again and walked toward the wagon where Applejack was rummaging through the gear and making sure nothing was missing. “Need any help?” he asked.

“Sure,” Applejack said. She started loading the gear into the wagon and Big Macintosh did his part as well. “So did ya have fun?”

“Eeyup,” he said, “but Ah gotta tell ya your friends are easier ta take one at a time than all at once.”

Applejack nodded. “Ah want ya to think of them as your friends too, Mac.”

“Ah can’t. No matter how much time Ah spend with ‘em Ah don’t think Ah’ll ever think of them as my friends. No offense to ‘em, Ah just think ya got a pretty strong claim to ‘em.”

“Just give it some time, Ah’m sure you’ll think of them as yer friends after a while.”

The two siblings were quiet after that, focusing instead on loading up the wagon. Big Macintosh kept wondering if he should use the opportunity to have that talk he wanted to have. It was a hard thing to admit, but he was scared of what she might say. Still, it was better to just get it over with.

“Ah’ve been thinkin’ about what you said yesterday in the woods,” he said.

“Have ya now?”

“Eeyup. Ah just don’t really get what ya said, like how ya said ya don’t need me anymore, or that Ah should focus on my on life. What did ya mean?”

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and piled a few more things onto the wagon before speaking. “Sometimes when Ah’m in Ponyville Ah get a pony or two asking how and what yer doin’, and Ah always say that yer workin’ hard on the farm. Ah’ve been givin’ that answer for as long as Ah can remember. Ah never say ‘he’s havin’ fun with his friends’, or ‘he’s on a trip ta Braytain like he’s always wanted’. It’s always ‘he’s workin’ hard on the farm’.”

“What’s yer point,” he asked, genuinely confused.

“C’mon Mac, all ya do is work. Ah worry that you don’t spend enough time off the farm to have fun and make friends.”

“Workin’ the farm is plenty fun for me,” Macintosh said quickly. “It’s just,” he paused, “a different sorta fun.”

“A less fun sorta fun,” Applejack said as she tossed the last bag into the wagon. “Ah ain’t askin’ ya ta stop workin’ altogether, but ya need to balance out yer life. Just have a little fun outside the farm, that’s all Ah’m askin’.” She placed a hoof on his shoulder and smiled. “C’mon, now that everything’s loaded up we can relax by the lake.”

“You go on ahead, Ah wanna make sure we ain’t missin’ anything,” Macintosh said. Applejack’s smiled shrunk slightly before she nodded and headed to the shore to join her friends. Their friends. It still sounded strange.

Macintosh went back to the six bags filled with rocks and gravel. He looked at them and then looked at the cart. With a small sigh he grabbed the first bag by its bottom and flipped it over, spilling its contents out to the ground. He did the same with the remaining five until he was left with a pile of dirt and six empty bags. He grabbed them and placed them in the wagon before going back to the pile of gravel and spreading it out amongst the grass.

He didn’t feel much like joining everyone at the lake. He wanted to be alone to think. With lumbering steps, he headed for the woods. With any luck he could be left by himself at his secret place. Heck, maybe he would be lucky enough to see the red, orange, and white again. That would make him feel better.

But he wasn’t that lucky. As he entered his little copse of sand he saw a purple unicorn jotting down notes as she lay on her stomach on the shore. He immediately turned around, but Twilight spotted him before he could get out of sight.

“Hey Macintosh. Sorry, but that fish Fluttershy was talking about hasn’t shown up yet,” Twilight said.

He held back a sigh and turned around to face her. “Eeyup,” he said quietly. He walked towards her and sat beside her, staring out into the lake.

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong? I’m sure it’ll come before we have to leave. Fluttershy told me that they have fast metabolisms so they need to eat about seven times their body weight in a day, so I brought plenty of bread,” she said with a smile as she levitated a small loaf in the air for him to see.

Macintosh took a quick glance before looking back at the surface of the water. “It ain’t that,” he said.

“Then what is it?” Twilight asked. “If it’s a problem I’d be glad to help. That’s what friends are for, remember?”

He ran a hoof through his mane. “You were right,” he said as he plopped down to rest on his stomach.

“About what?”

“About everything,” Macintosh whispered. “About my sisters not needin’ me anymore, an’ about how Ah can’t be a farmpony or a big brother anymore. You were right. Applejack practically told me so herself.”

Twilight didn’t say anything for a few moments and started rubbing his shoulder. “That…must have been hard.” He didn’t say anything, so she continued. “Look on the bright side. At least now you can do other things beside farm. Like reading, making friends, and playing chess.”

“Ah don’t want to do any of those things,” he said, “Ah just want to go back to the farm and work. It’s what Ah’m good at an’ it’s what makes me happy. Ah don’t see the point in-”

“You don’t see the point in doing anything else because you wholeheartedly believe that working on the farm is your purpose. And doing anything else just feels like you’re not doing what you’re supposed to.”

Big Macintosh was taken aback to say the least. He stared at her, and she scooted closer to him and placed a gentle hoof on his shoulder.

“When I was in Canterlot, before I came to Ponyville, I thought I had everything I needed. I had my family, Spike, Princess Celestia, all the books I could read and all the time I needed to read them. I would go to the library every single day, only leaving to eat, sleep, visit my family, and things like that.

“When the Princess sent me to Ponyville to check on the Summer Sun Celebration’s arrangements and to make friends I thought I was wasting my time. I thought that I was better off doing what I believed was my purpose. And you know the rest. I met your sister, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy, and I’ve never been happier. I realized that there’s more to life than purpose, Macintosh. If you don’t have anypony to share it with then…” she trailed off and looked at him.

He avoided her gaze and kept looking at the lake. He hated to admit it, but she had a point. A really good one. Maybe it was time for him to go on his own journey just like she did. Still, even if he said that, it was hard to completely change a routine set for years and years. He just…

“Ah’m going back to workin’ on the farm,” he said.

“What? Macintosh, you’re taking a huge step backwards!” Twilight said.

He shook his head. “Ah know it looks that way, but...” He paused to find the right words, frustrated when they never came. So he just settled on his best try. “You know Ah actually made a promise to myself to try one new thing a day a while back. Ah hate ta say it but Ah never really took it seriously. Ah wouldn’t always be injured, and Ah thought that by the time Ah went back to work Ah wouldn’t have to do something new every day, so why bother. Now Ah wonder what woulda happened if Ah did. Maybe this wouldn’t be so dang hard.

“Either way, over the last couple of months Ah’ve been living a life that ain’t mine. Ah’ve been doing things Ah’d never do and not doing things Ah’d always do. My life’s changed more than Ah would’ve expected. And now that Ah’m finally well enough ta get back to how things were, Ah can’t. Now it feels like somepony just threw a ten thousand piece puzzle at my hooves and threw away the box before Ah could look at it. Ah just need time ta flip over all the pieces. To see what’s there, to see what ain’t, and to see what picture it’s tryin’ ta make.”

Twilight sighed. “Alright, Macintosh, but I want you to promise me you won’t go back to staying on the farm all the time.”

He grunted in annoyance. “Ah suppose ya want a Pinkie Promise?”

“No, I want a Big Macintosh promise,” Twilight said with a small smile, and he returned it despite himself.

“A’right, Ah promise.”

“Good,” she said, and after a few moments of silence added, “You’ll be fine, Macintosh.”

He nodded though he didn’t quite believe her.

They remained silent for the rest of their time there. The fish never showed up, but neither of them really minded. They headed back to camp to find everyone ready to go. Macintosh surprised his sister by letting her pull the cart, and when she easily pulled it everyone simply attributed it to most of the food having been eaten on the trip. Rainbow Dash was the only one that knew the truth, and she gave him a quick wink as they headed out.

Big Macintosh kept to the back this time, a bit away from the rest of the group. He kept his eyes on his hooves as, over time, his steps got slower and smaller, and bit by bit he was left farther and farther away from the rest. He didn’t notice that soon he was alone on the path.

A few drops of rain fell to the dirt in front of his hooves. He looked up. There were no clouds.

14. A Day in the Life

A Day in the Life

No matter how hard Big Macintosh looked at the mirror his reflection would not change. Not that he was expecting his mane to get shorter just by staring at it, but it would be nice to see how it would look. It had been so long since his last cut that he forgot what he looked like with a short mane. He couldn’t help experimenting a bit, especially since he was freshly showered after completing his chores earlier that morning.

He tilted his chin upward, and his mane cascaded behind him. That was nice, though it reminded him of Prince Blueblood and how he looked at other ponies. He tilted his head down. That was good too. Nice and brooding like the heroes in romantic novels. He made sure to furrow his brow and give a hard scowl to the mirror. The way his mane fell and partially concealed his left eye was a nice touch. As a final test, he turned his head to get a good look at his almost-profile. He puckered his lips and lowered his eyelids seductively just as he saw Rarity do a couple of times.

“Ooh, sassy.” Macintosh almost jumped out of his coat and quickly pivoted around. Rainbow Dash rested her forelegs on his windowsill, covering her mouth with a hoof to mute her giggles. Her wings flapped gently in the early morning air. Why didn’t he hear them until now? Mac’s cheeks burned and he promised to keep his window and shutters closed from now on.

“Trying out the new ‘do?” Rainbow Dash asked. She lifted herself up and through the window. When she landed on the thick comforter on his bed her knees buckled slightly, yet her weight barely made an indent in the sheets. Dash looked down at his bed and did a small hop atop of it before turning her attention to Mac. “Your bed’s really comfy.”

“Ah take my sleep seriously,” Mac said. “Now is there something Ah can help ya with?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, I was just wondering if you’d come watch me train and see some of my stunts…” Her mouth gaped and a long drawl of a yawn escaped. “You mind if I, uh, lay down for a sec?” she asked.

Macintosh raised an eyebrow and took a closer look at Dash. Her feathers looked like they hadn’t been properly preened in days, sticking out every which way. Her coat shined with grease and she reeked of sweat. Her mane was even more unkempt than usual, and strands of it poked out in random directions. Dash sure did know how to push herself beyond her limits. He had to admire that.

She grew tired of waiting for permission and simply hunkered down and wrapped herself in a blanket. When she was nice and comfortable she took a long breath and closed her eyes.

“You feelin’ okay, sugarcube?” Macintosh asked as he took a few steps toward his bed and nudged her shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dash said without opening her eyes. “I’m just tired that’s all. I’ve been training all night and the night before that…and the night before that.”

“Rest as long as ya like,” Mac whispered. “You sure deserve it.” Silence was his only answer. He wondered if Dash had some sort of secret plan to sleep in every bed in the Apple family homestead. With a small smile he stroked her mane to smooth it out a bit, and Dash hummed softly. Her whole body relaxed, muscles loosened and her wings slumped on her back. Knowing that he probably had to wait quite a bit before she would wake up, he went back to the mirror hanging on his wall. He took it down and placed it back in his dresser drawer. No need for anybody else to catch him making faces at his reflection. His foresight was well timed as the click of an opening door announced Applejack’s arrival.

“Hey there, big brother,” Applejack said. She tossed an elastic cloth band on his dresser. “Here’s the tie ya wanted.”

“Thanks, sugarcube,” Mac said. He wrapped the band around his hoof and struggled to get it around his mane. Just as Applejack made to leave she did a double take toward Mac’s bed.

“What’s Rainbow Dash doin’ in your bed?” Applejack asked. Mac felt the edge on his sister’s voice, but didn’t feel at all afraid. He ignored her glare and snapped the band around his mane. Flicking his mane from side to side he tested its length, only satisfied when no wayward strands obstructed his face.

“Sleepin’,” he said. “She didn’t get a lot of it last night.”

“Big Macintosh Ap—”

Macintosh quickly shushed her, and nodded his head to the door. Without a word he opened it and stepped out into the hall. Applejack understood and followed right behind him. He didn’t speak until she closed the door behind her.
“Nothin’ happened,” he said. “Dash’s been trainin’ all night for the last couple of days, and she wanted me to watch her do some stunts, but she nodded off soon as she was on my bed. So don’t get yer tail all up in a knot.”

“Well yer phrasing sure didn’t do me any favors,” Applejack countered.

“What’s wrong, AJ?” Mac asked. “Yer practically pickin’ out bridesmaid dresses when ya see me with Rarity, but ya get mad as a rattler when ya catch a whiff of me and Dash together.” He looked into his sister’s eyes and softened his frown. “Applejack, ya know you can tell me anythin’. If you like Dash in that way then—“

“Dang it Mac, that ain’t it at all,” Applejack said with red cheeks. “Now listen here, Rarity knows how to handle herself ‘round a stallion, but Dash…doesn’t.” Applejack exhaled and patted Mac’s shoulder. “Yer a nice stallion, big brother, but sometimes Ah worry that ya might not realize how mares might take to ya. You could wind up accidentally hurtin’ somepony if you ain’t careful. Ah just don’t want things to go sour.”

“Don’t be silly, sugarcube,” Mac said with a smile. “Ya gotta believe me when Ah say Ah love Dash like a sister, same as you and Applebloom, so ya ain’t got anythin’ to worry about. And Ah don’t think Dash would appreciate being treated like a foal.”

Applejack nodded. “Ah know, Ah know.” She went to the door and cracked it open just a tiny bit to peer inside. “How bad did she look?”

“Pretty bad,” Macintosh said.

“Poor thing’s been training harder since y’all got back from the Wonderbolt show.” Applejack closed the door and headed downstairs. Mac went the same way. “Ah keep tellin’ her that restin’ is part of training too, but she never listens. Ah think she’s startin’ to get a might obsessed.” They reached the landing and Applejack stopped for a moment to face Macintosh. The light accentuated the bags beneath her eyes. “By the way, don’t think Ah didn’t notice that you weeded the west fields,” she said, the edge coming back into her voice.

Macintosh shrugged. “Ah started my chores early. Got done around sunrise, so Ah had some extra time and thought Ah could do a bit more ‘round the farm.”

“Well that was mighty nice of ya, big brother, but next time stick to the work Ah give you,” Applejack said. Macintosh bit his tongue and nodded. Satisfied, she continued, “Besides, you got a busy day ahead of ya while Ah’m workin’ the fields. Don’t you have that date with that filly from Canterlot?”

Macintosh rolled his eyes. He knew it was a mistake to tell her, but ever since Rarity told her about Octavia she wouldn’t leave him alone until he told her about it. “That’s only for lunch, ain’t like it’s gonna take up the entire day,” he said.

“Then ya got that painting lesson with Rarity,” Applejack countered.

“She told ya about that, huh,” Macintosh said with a defeated sigh. “So Ah guess my day’s a little busy…”

“And you know Rainbow Dash is gonna want you to watch her stunts once she wakes up,” Applejack said.

“Alright, Ah get it,,” Mac said. “Guess Ah’m gonna be a might busy today. Doesn’t mean Ah can’t do a little bit of work ‘round the—”

“Ah’m gonna head out to work the fields,” Applejack interrupted. “Ah’ll be sure to stop by and say hello to yer marefriend.”.

“Don’t you dare,” Macintosh said. “The last thing Ah want is for you to come by an’ gawk at us like some sorta exhibit at a museum.” He didn’t wait for Applejack to give him an answer and headed out into the summer day. Macintosh made sure to close the door just hard enough to convey how much he meant his objection. With a deep breath he strode off the porch and headed into Ponyville.

It was still a bit early. He wasn’t supposed to meet her until around noon for lunch. The sun began its ascent, illuminating the buildings of Ponyville in its soft orange light. He wished Rarity hadn’t told Applejack about their painting lesson. He was a bit apprehensive about picking up a paintbrush, and now that Applejack knew she would want to see his work. Sure he drew a bit when he was a colt, but that was such a long time ago, and even back then he was never good at it.

Macintosh arrived at Ponyville with a few minutes to spare, so he decided to take a detour through the park. Sunlight peeked through the lattice of leaves, and a small breeze rustled the leaves and filled the air with their gentle sound. The grass glinted light from the sun, and as the wind blew through the blades it seemed to take the light of the sun with it creating bands of light that glided through the grass.

The distant sound of a whistling train reverberated through the air, and Mac hurried to a trot. That would be Octavia’s train coming in. She definitely wasn’t the kind of mare to keep waiting. As the screech of brakes and hiss of steam arrived at the platform so did Big Macintosh. His heart beat faster while he watched ponies get off the train. Despite his quickening heart, his outer demeanor remained stoic and confident with just a small smile showing his excitement.

Octavia carried her cello case across her back as she stepped off the train. She stood on the platform for a few seconds and looked around until she saw Big Macintosh. They exchanged smiles and walked to each other, meeting in the middle of the station platform.

“Didn’t expect ya to bring yer cello,” Macintosh said. “You plannin’ on serenadin’ me?”

Octavia’s smile turned into her trademark smirk. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she said. She adjusted the strap and walked past him. “Nice ponytail.”

Macintosh chuckled and trotted along beside her. They walked down Ponyville’s main street, and Mac enjoyed the rhythmic clops of hooves as they and other ponies made their way around town. “Ah’m tryin’ somethin’ new. You ever been to Ponyville before?” he asked.

“A few times,” Octavia replied. “Mostly to meet with a few rivals. I don’t come here often without good reason.”

“Awful sweet of ya to come down to see little ol’ me,” he said.

“It is, so be grateful,” Octavia said with a sly smile. “In fact, you can show me your gratitude by taking me somewhere to eat. I haven’t had a meal since yesterday’s lunch due to a rigorous practice schedule.” She looked around the nearby buildings. “I would prefer something a bit heavy since it will perhaps be my only meal of the day.”

“Sure thing,” Macintosh said with a smile. “Ah know just the place.” He led the way and she followed beside him, every now and then swishing her tail against his side. He didn’t mind, and he doubted she even noticed she was doing it judging by the way her attention was drawn toward the homes and shops lining the streets.

“I’ve always enjoyed the architecture of Ponyville,” Octavia said. “Eccentric, but comforting.”

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said. “You should see it at sunrise.”

“I should,” Octavia said with a smile.

He took a couple of quick steps to put himself just ahead of Octavia in order to lead the way, but before he could take anymore a purple and curled mane suddenly came into his line of sight. He had no idea where the heck Rarity came from. Maybe she learned Twilight’s teleporting spell, or maybe he just needed to pay more attention to his surroundings.

“Octavia, what a lovely surprise,” Rarity said. She actually sounded sincere.

“Hello, Rarity,” Octavia said, not as enthusiastically. “If you’ll excuse us, we’re on a date.” She stepped past Rarity. Macintosh tried to follow her, but Rarity held a hoof beneath his chin and stood him still.

“Macintosh, sweetie, what a lovely mane-style,” she said. Her hoof went from his chin to his cheek, and with gentle pressure she turned his head from side to side.

“Uh, Rarity-”

“Quiet, sweetie, I’m gaining inspiration,” she said.

“Rarity, if you stare any longer I’ll have to charge a fee,” Octavia said, stepping beside her. “Five bits for looking, an extra ten for touching.”

“Pardon me,” Rarity said nonchalantly and removed her hoof from him. “I was just considering a few possibilities for an outfit for Fancy Pants’ upcoming event.”

“What event?” Macintosh asked. He immediately regretted it as Octavia and Rarity looked at each other and shared the same mischievous smile.

“Should we tell him?” Rarity asked.

“Of course not, it’s entertaining to see that worried expression on his face,” Octavia said. She placed a bent fetlock beneath her chin and hummed in thought. “Though I’d like to see his look of surprise. If he only finds out through Fancy Pants’ invitation I might miss it.”

The mares laughed with each other, but Macintosh could not share in their glee. “Ya know, Ah think Ah liked it better when y’all were at each other’s throats instead of gangin’ up on mine,” he said.

“This is a bit more fun,” Octavia said with a smile. “Rarity, would you like to join us for lunch?” Mac took a moment to make sure he had heard her right. A few days ago they were sniping at each other, a few minutes ago Octavia wanted nothing to do with Rarity, and now they seemed the closest of friends. He was certain he would never understand these mares.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to interrupt your date,” Rarity said with a smile, “but I would happily accompany you on the way there. Where are you eating?”

“That café a few blocks down. The one with flowers on the outside tables,” Macintosh said, relieved that she turned down the invitation.

“Perfect,” Rarity said, “that will give us plenty of time to talk. Shall we?” She stepped forward a couple of steps and looked over her shoulder, beckoning for the other two to follow. Octavia joined her without any hesitation, but Macintosh was a bit more reluctant. Of course, there was nothing he could do but join them and walk between them. Though he was determined to speak as little as possible.

“So have you two made your relationship official?” Rarity asked.

“No,” Octavia said, “right now we’re simply testing the waters and seeing how everything feels. No reason to go any faster than a violinist learning an up-bow staccato.”

“Eeyup,” Mac said.

“Well, Macintosh has never been one to rush into things either, so I’m sure he agrees with your approach.”

“Eeyup,” Mac said again, wondering if they actually heard him.

Rarity smiled and Mac could feel his muscles tense. It reminded him all too much of Octavia’s smirk. “Of course, since you haven’t made anything official, that would mean any mare could swoop in and take him before you finally get around to committing.”

“I suppose so,” Octavia said nonchalantly, “but I’ve never met a mare stupid enough to get in my way.”

“Of course not, but a bold mare would be a different story, don’t you think?” Rarity said.

Macintosh breathed a sigh of relief as he stopped in front of a café tucked within a couple of other stores. The perfectly pressed tablecloths on the patio seating, as well as the flowers arranged daintily inside a vase on each table, made the place feel very upscale yet intimate.

“I suppose I better be on my way,” Rarity said. “Goodbye Octavia and goodbye Macintosh. Don’t forget we have a painting lesson today.”

“Eeyup,” Mac said, and with a smile Rarity turned to the direction of the boutique and left. He waited until she was out of sight before turning to Octavia. “Well that was embarrassin’,” he said.

Octavia chuckled. “As if you didn’t absolutely love the attention,” she said, leading the way into the restaurant. It took no time at all for a waiter to seat them out in the patio and give them menus. “I’m actually surprised that you’re taking up painting. First the longer mane and now this. If I didn’t know better I would say you were trying to appear more cultured in order to impress me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Mac said. “Ah’m just takin’ a break from farming.” He decided to drop the conversation for now and just look at the menu. His eyes scanned across the list of familiar dishes like sandwiches and salads. When the waiter came to take their order, Macintosh ordered a simple salad while Octavia ordered a hay and dandelion sandwich, minestrone soup, caprese salad, and a helping of mashed potatoes from the dinner menu.

“You weren’t kiddin’ about being hungry,” Mac said as he eyed Octavia. The mare couldn’t possibly put away that much food.

“Of course,” she said, snapping her napkin open and wrapping it around her neck. “I would never joke about-“ She stopped suddenly as her eyes widened and then quickly narrowed as she looked at a point behind Mac. Her reaction made him tense up, and he tried his best to discreetly crane his neck to see what she was staring at. From the corner of his eye he saw the familiar light green coat of a unicorn entering the café.

Mac eased a bit in his seat, and he had to chuckle at his paranoia. As he did, Lyra noticed the two. She smiled happily and approached the pair just as their waiter came and set down their food.

“Oh hi, Octavia, I didn’t know you and Big Macintosh were a thing,” she said amiably. Lyra’s eyes looked at the food in front of the cellist. “It’s good to see you’re eating well. It must be the reason for your healthy figure.”

“Yes, I know,” Octavia said, her tone just as friendly. “You see, when your talent actually provides you with a means to support yourself, you tend to indulge now and then.”

“I guess so,” Lyra said, the corners of her smile twitching slightly. “Say Big Mac, did you know Octavia turned her last coltfriend gay?”

The plates and cups rattled from the sudden impact of Octavia’s hooves on the table. She seemed as surprised as the others at her sudden action, and quickly withdrew her hooves. She placed one in front of her mouth and forced a small laugh. “Oh Lyra, you’re too much. Well it’s been a pleasure talking to you so, unless you’re going to buy me lunch as well, I believe you’ll be going on your way.”

“Guess I should. I don’t think I could afford feeding you. I just came by to pick up a sandwich before rehearsal anyway. See ya later at the next meetup, Octavia. Remember, it’s your turn to bring dessert.” Lyra said. Macintosh said his goodbye, and Lyra trotted inside the café to get her food.

Octavia, meanwhile, stared at her plate. “Oh, I’ll bring dessert, Heartstrings.” She bit into her sandwich like a wolf at a carcass. “I’ll bring the best, and last, dessert you’ll ever eat. Macintosh, how hard would it be to poison a slice of apple pie?”

Macintosh chuckled. “Well, apple seeds are poisonous if ya eat about a few hundred.”

“Excellent, you can crush them into powder and sprinkle it into a pie. Then, as a supposed peace offering, I’ll give Lyra the whole thing.” She took another ferocious bite, and Macintosh could only watch her, wondering. “But enough of her,” Octavia continued. She polished off her sandwich and moved on to her soup. “I’d like to know more about you. Especially since I told you about my past at the dessert competition.”

“Not much of a story,” Mac said. “Had to work on my family’s farm when Ah was a little colt, been doing that since.”

“There must be more to it than that,” Octavia said, tipping the bowl to her mouth.

“Course,” he said, and he ate a few leaves of lettuce before speaking again, “but Ah don’t wanna put everythin’ up front. That’s just bad storytellin’.”

“Perhaps, but what you do give has to be interesting in order to keep your audience engaged. Otherwise who would want to wait until the story becomes worth a listen?”

Macintosh nodded. “Fair enough, Ah guess. Anythin’ in particular you’d like to know?”

“Let’s start with something basic,” Octavia said. “How did you receive your cutie mark?”

“Now there’s a story,” Mac said with a smile, “You see when Ah was a colt Ah—”

“Hey there, big brother! Funny running into you here,” Applejack’s voice called out. Mac’s muscles tensed, and it took every last bit of his willpower to slowly turn his head. No, it couldn’t be Applejack standing there. Even Rarity knew to leave the two alone on their date. “You okay, Mac?” Applejack said as she took a seat at their table. “Yer lookin’ a little pale. Hope ya don’t mind if Ah join ya.”

“I take it your Big Macintosh’s little sister,” Octavia said. “I’m Octavia by the way.”

“Nice to meet ya,” Applejack said with a smile. “Ah’m Applejack.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Octavia said. “Please, order as much as you want. It’s on me.” Macintosh raised an eyebrow at her, but she ignored him.

“You ain’t gotta do that,” Mac said. “She was ‘bout to leave anyway. Right AJ?” He glared at his sister, but she pretended not to notice as a waiter brought her a menu.

“Now Mac,” Applejack said, “it’d be bad manners to turn down her offer. Truth be told I just wanted to say hello to yer marefriend here.”

“That so?” Mac asked. “You decided to come by in the middle of our date, and not when Ah gave her a tour of the farm. You know, the smart, subtle way to introduce yerself.”

“Macintosh, let’s not be so rude to our guest,” Octavia said. “I’m positive, Applejack, that as his sister you only want what’s best for your brother and came to meet the mare he was involved with. Please feel free to ask me any questions you may have.” With a final tilt of her bowl, Octavia finished her soup and went to her mashed potatoes.

“That’s mighty gracious of ya, Octavia,” Applejack said. The waiter came by to take her order, and she asked for a sandwich, some fruit, and a slice of pie. The food came quickly, and soon Applejack was eating her fill. Macintosh held back a sigh and simply chewed on a lettuce leaf to distract himself from what was to come.

“So Octavia, you live in Canterlot right?” Applejack began. “If you two were gonna get married would ya move down to Sweet Apple Acres?”

Macintosh coughed violently as the lettuce leaf threatened to go down the wrong way. He quickly drank a glass of water and answered Applejack before Octavia could. “Ah think it’s a bit early to—”

“Best to get this stuff outta the way early on,” Applejack said. “If you get it all out on the table now then it won’t lead to problems once things get serious.” Macintosh glared at her but said nothing more. Applejack gave him a smile and turned back to the cellist. “You think of ever having foals, Octavia?” The plates and glasses clattered again, this time by the force of Macintosh’s hooves on the table. It was a reflex, anything to distract Applejack from going any further. When the mares stared at him he slowly removed his hooves and cleared his throat.

“Applejack, we ain’t—”

“I completely agree, Applejack,” Octavia interrupted. “It’s best to make our priorities clear.” She finished her mashed potatoes and pulled the caprese salad to her. “As for your questions, well,” she paused to take a bite from a slice of mozzarella, but as soon as it reached her mouth she spat it out in disgust and pounded a hoof on the table. “This isn’t buffalo mozzarella at all!” she cried out. “Excuse me, I need to go complain to the manager. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Uh, sure,” Applejack said, “but it seems a lot of trouble just for some cheese.”

“Nonsense,” Octavia said, “if it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right. Macintosh, would you come with me? I need an intimidating figure.”

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said, quickly realizing Octavia’s intentions. The two stood and fought through a crowd of ponies to get inside the restaurant. Octavia led him to a quiet corner near the facilities and turned to face him with a raised eyebrow.
“Octavia, Ah’m really sorry. Ah didn’t think—”

“Macintosh please,” Octavia said, raising a hoof to stop him. “You can either spend this time apologizing or we can use it to slip away. I saw an exit toward the back of the building. Shall we?”

Macintosh smiled. “Eeyup.”

-*-

“It’s peaceful here,” Octavia said as the gentle breeze caused her mane and tail to sway back and forth. “I’m surprised how much it smells like apples. I expected as much, but never so sweet and fragrant. I could write a suite to this smell.” Octavia took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “How many trees do you have? It seems like they go on forever.”

“Ain’t enough to tell ya,” Mac said with a smile. He led the way through the tree-lined path. “Ah know a good spot where you can see almost the whole farm.” Octavia tilted her head with interest and followed him. Mac stuck to the path only for a few feet and then turned into the orchard. His memory guided him along until they arrived at a large hill bare of any trees.

“You want me to carry yer cello?” Mac asked.

“No,” Octavia said, “and don’t even think abou—“

They were up the hill in no time, Octavia’s shrieks fading away across the orchard.

Once Octavia regained her footing and gave Mac a few half-terse words, she stood beside him and stared down at the huge expanse of apple trees below and around them. They stretched for what seemed like miles, and in their branches were hundreds upon thousands of apples, big and ripe and soon ready for harvesting. The wind blew through the tree limbs and filled the orchard with movement. The Apple family homestead and a few fields could be seen in the far off distance.

Octavia whistled at the expanse of greenery. “All of this is your farm?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said with a smile. “Spent my whole life here, and almost all of it working from sunrise to sundown.”

Octavia nodded absently. “I have to say, Macintosh, I’m really impressed. Honestly I thought the whole ‘rustic farmer’ was simply a persona you use to seduce mares.”

“Sorry to disappoint ya,” Mac said.

“So you’re taking a break from this and picking up painting?” Octavia asked, moving her gaze away from the trees and to Big Macintosh.

“Eeyup,” Mac said.

“It won’t work, you know,” Octavia said, going back to looking at the orchard. Her eyes took on a peculiar expression that Macintosh had never seen from her before. They were narrowed, almost a glare, but still soft with sadness. It only lasted a moment before she went back to her trademark smirk. “Obsessions can’t be displaced.”

Macintosh looked at her for a moment, wondering if he should pry. He decided not to. Her smug smile told him all that he needed to know. Whether it was a slip in her persona or if she meant for him to see that bit of vulnerability, the fact remained that it was a glimpse. Nothing more. So with a casual shrug he only said, “Worth a shot.”

She smiled at him. “Why the decision to take a break from your work?”

“My sister thought Ah was workin’ too hard, so I decided to take it easy.”

Octavia chuckled at him. “You decided, or your sister?”

“Big Mac!” Applejack’s yell turned both of their attention to the bottom of the hill where the farm mare was barreling up to them.

“Perfect timing,” Octavia said. “Watch this.” Her sneer made it absolutely clear that he didn’t want to watch whatever stunt she was about to pull.

“That was one mean trick!” Applejack shouted. She reached the top of the hill before Macintosh had a chance to dissuade Octavia. “Worse yet you dragged Octavia off before she could answer any of my questions.” She arrived a bit short of breath which gave Mac the best opportunity to control the conversation before either of the mares could make the situation uncomfortable.

“You deserved it,” Macintosh said, happy to let Applejack think it was his idea to leave her with the bill, “maybe that’ll teach ya to mind yer manners.”

“My manners?” Applejack spat, “last Ah checked dine ‘n dash ain’t exactly good etiquette.”

“Honestly, Macintosh,” Octavia added with a smirk, “just what were you thinking?” Macintosh tried his best not to visibly wince as Octavia took a step toward his sister. “So sorry, Applejack,” she said. “I just told Big Macintosh how much I wanted to see your farm, and one thing led to another.” Octavia shrugged, left it at that, and changed the subject. “I have to say the sheer size of your farm is very impressive.”

“Hey, thanks,” Applejack said, pride apparent in her voice. “Practically the largest apple farm in all of Equestria. Ah think so, anyway.” The edges of Mac’s mouth turned up into a cautious smile. This didn’t seem so bad after all. Heck, they might actually get along.

“I’m surprised Macintosh maintains it all by himself,” Octavia said. Mac attempted to correct her, but he wasn’t fast enough.

“Mac, you been telling her lies to impress her?” Applejack asked with a tilt of her head. He tried to answer, but Applejack apparently wasn’t looking for one. “Whatever he told ya, it ain’t true,” she said to Octavia. “Matter of fact, he’s been taking it easy lately. If anypony’s been workin’ hard it’s me.”

“Really?” Octavia said. She glared at Mac, but her subdued smile told him she was only playing a part. He didn’t know where this was going, but he certainly didn’t like the possibilities. “Macintosh, how dare you relax when your sister is working so hard? What kind of decent stallion would do such a thing? Is this how you’re going to act in our relationship?”

“Woah, hold on there Octavia,” Applejack said quickly. “It ain’t like that. Ah practically had to force him to not work so hard. He practically did all the hard labor ‘round here. Plowing, mowing, building, and clearing the orchard. It ain’t like he all up an’ decided to leave all the work for me.”

“I see. Sorry for jumping to conclusions. So you two split the duties fifty-fifty?”

“Well, not exactly,” Applejack said as she rubbed the back of her neck. “Ah’d say more eighty-five and fifteen.”

“Oh,” Octavia said. She patted a hoof against her chin. “But if I may ask, Applejack, why did you want him to work less? It can’t possibly be easy for you to maintain almost the entire farm all by yourself.”

“Ah ain’t doing it by myself. My little sister and grandma help out too. They take care of makin’ preserves and such with the apples. And Big Mac still does a couple things around the farm, just not as much as he’s used to.”

“But most of the hard labor falls on your shoulders?”

“Ah suppose so,” Applejack said. “But it ain’t a problem, Ah can handle it.”

“I see,” Octavia said, “but Applejack, isn’t it a little hypocritical to expect your brother to cut back on his work only for you to go and do the exact same thing you wished him not to do?” Little by little the sweetness and airiness of her voice soured and darkened. “I can’t imagine your reasons for asking him to take a break from farming, but I don’t believe the situation has been bettered, only reversed.”

“Uh, Ah,” Applejack stuttered, “well, Ah guess—”

“C’mon Octavia,” Macintosh said, drawing her eyes to him, “Ah wanna take ya somewhere before ya gotta go.”

Octavia shrugged and turned back to Applejack with a smile, her voice back to its previous sweetness. “Bye Applejack, it was a pleasure meeting you.”

“Uh, uh-huh,” Applejack mumbled. She stared at Octavia, no doubt wondering what had just happened. It was all the more reason for Macintosh to rush his farewell and lead Octavia through the orchard, leaving his sister far behind as they traveled through the apple trees.

“You were gonna call her out?” Macintosh asked.

“It just seemed strange to me,” Octavia said. “I wanted to dig into her motivations. She must have something to gain from doing this.”

“Applejack?” Big Mac said with a chuckle. “You know she’s the Element of Honesty, right? She ain’t the kind of pony to have some sorta ulterior motive.”

“Honesty has nothing to do with the truth,” she said. “She could believe that dogs come from eggs and so long as she believes it true then she could say such a thing honestly. Likewise, everypony has an ulterior motive to their actions, no matter how much they believe themselves to be altruistic.”

“That so?” he asked. “So what’s my ulterior motive for takin’ ya out on a date?”

“Same as mine for accepting: a release from boredom, fear of dying alone, showing off, sex, a free meal…well, I suppose that one doesn’t apply to you. Oh wait, I suppose it does,” she said with a smile.

“Kind of a cynical way to look at things,” Macintosh said. They were just exiting the farm, and Ponyville was bright with the light of early afternoon. He didn’t focus too much on it, and instead locked gazes with the mare beside him. “What about somethin’ like love? How’s that fit?”

“It’s not cynical, just realistic,” Octavia said. “And it’s not as if I don’t believe in love, but I prefer to think of it in biological terms rather than the metaphysical. Chemicals in the brain rather than feelings in the heart. All that ‘shnooky-wookims’, ‘one and only’ garbage makes me want to vomit.” They entered Ponyville, and she looked around at the buildings. “So where are you taking me?”

“Nowhere,” Mac said, “Ah just wanted to get outta there so we could talk and maybe get some time alone. So far this doesn’t feel like much of a date.”

“On the contrary, I’m enjoying myself. Are there any other ponies you don’t want me to meet? Perhaps other Elements of Harmony?” She saw the grimace on his face and chuckled. “Or we can talk about your sister. How long are you going to humor her?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well she obviously wants to prove something to somepony, why else would she do so much work?” Octavia hummed in thought. “Macintosh, when you started working on the farm, did you do so alone?”

“For the first year or two Ah think. Applejack was a little young to help back then, not like Ah wanted her to work anyway. Far as Ah was concerned Ah wanted her as far away from farm work,” he said without much thought. “That didn’t really last long, though,” he added with a chuckle. “You sound like you got a theory.”

Octavia shrugged. “Perhaps this is her way of compensating for her uselessness back then, or maybe she sees this as a challenge against you. A way to see if she could have done the same if your roles were reversed.”

“Sounds like a nice guess,” Mac said, “but there’s no reason she’s gotta think she’s in my debt or something. Heck, if it wasn’t for her there’d be no farm to take care of. If anything Ah owe her for all the times she’s pulled through for Sweet Apple Acres’ sake.”

“Do you have any ideas then?” Octavia asked, a challenge more than anything. Macintosh only shrugged, but she saw right through it. “You do, don’t you? Well then spit it out.” Mac stayed quiet and after a few minutes Octavia gave up on waiting and narrowed her eyes at him. “Well whatever your theory, I actually have a very elegant solution to all of this.”

“Do ya now?”

“That I do,” Octavia said. “Try to keep up, I’ll be using very complex concepts. Why don’t you two simply divide the work equally amongst yourselves? There, problem solved.”

Macintosh smiled. “Yer one heck of a genius, Octavia.”

“I know,” she said, “but it’s still nice when a pony says it out loud.” She gave him a smirk and sauntered ahead of him, adding a bit of sashay to her walk. Macintosh watched her for a few seconds until he managed to regain his focus with a shake of his head. He caught up to her with a trot, and the two silently walked down the cobblestones with no real destination in mind.

Macintosh had to admit, splitting the work evenly sounded like an obvious solution, but he didn’t think it was that simple. Nowadays his workload was decided by Applejack. She gave him the list of chores for the day and he did them, usually taking him a couple of hours. The only way for the work to be split even would be for him to do more, and every time he tried to get Applejack to give him more work, well, it didn’t go so well.

“Do you do that often?” Octavia suddenly asked.

Macintosh blinked and met her gaze. “Do what?”

“Stare off into nothing like a bird about to take flight.”

“Ah guess it’s just what I look like when Ah’m thinking,” Macintosh said. He had never heard himself be described like that before. He didn’t even know birds had a certain look before flying. But if he thought about it then—

“There. You’re doing it again,” Octavia said. By her smile, Macintosh knew she was only teasing him. He smiled back, and they continued their walk. She stepped a little closer to him, their sides almost touching. Macintosh didn’t mind. In fact, he started walking a bit closer to her as well.

“I’ll tell you one thing, Macintosh,” Octavia said. “If you want her to give you back your job, then find out her true, perhaps subconscious, reason for doing so and then use it against her.”

“And how should Ah go about doin’ that?” Mac asked.

“I could teach you how to do it if you like.”

“No thanks,” Mac said. “Me doin’ that sorta thing would be like you playin’ a game of tag.”

Octavia quirked an eyebrow at him. “And just what makes you think I wouldn’t play tag?”

Macintosh shrugged. “You just don’t seem like the type of mare. Ah don’t blame ya. You look pretty slow on your hooves.”

Octavia only smiled and trotted up a few steps ahead. She looked back at him with a smirk before taking a few more steps forward. Mac smiled and chased after her. Maybe she had a point. It would be nice to know exactly why Applejack was keeping him from working more. At first it was about him working too hard, but he had realized his mistake and was willing to work less. Now it seemed that she was keeping him from working just for the sake of it. He wanted to know what she was thinking, but Celestia knows she wouldn’t tell him straight.

Maybe there was another way to find out.

-*-

“Have you kissed her yet?”

Macintosh rolled his eyes at yet another one of Rarity’s questions. “No, Rarity,” he said, focusing on the blank canvas in front of him. He picked up his pencil in his mouth and tried to start the first line of the outline of a nearby apple tree. He needed to make sure this line, the line of the trunk, was exactly perfect. It would be what all succeeding lines were angled on. If he got this line wrong then he would get his draft wrong. Slowly, he brought the sharp point of the pencil lead onto his pad of paper.

“I see,” Rarity said, turning back to her own pad of paper on the ground. A pencil, eraser, and a stick of charcoal floated in the air around her. “And may I ask how many dates you two have been on?”

“Three,” Macintosh said, lifting the pencil away without leaving a mark. All this talk wasn’t helping his concentration. He dropped the pencil and picked up a piece of charcoal instead. “And we already told ya that we’re taking it slow.”

“I know,” Rarity continued, “but there’s taking things slow and there’s being afraid of commitment. No offense to Octavia, of course, but have you ever thought that she isn’t the type to settle down.”

Macintosh blew a strand of his mane out of his face. “You know, Rarity, my uncle used to say ‘Never trust a mare to lead ya when there’s a stallion in her line of sight.’”

“That seems awfully sexist,” Rarity remarked.

“Not really,” Macintosh said. “Ah always thought the opposite was true too.”

“Be that as it may, I’m just looking out for a dear friend,” Rarity said. “It isn’t as if I have some ulterior motive.”

Macintosh smiled as he remembered his conversation with Octavia. He rolled his charcoal between his front hooves, smearing them with deep black marks. “Rarity, have Ah ever told you what a nice shade of white yer coat is?” he asked.

“Oh?” Rarity said, taken aback. “Well, no, Macintosh. I appreciate the compliment.”

“Eeyup,” he said. “It’s almost the same shade of white as this piece of paper.” He smiled as Rarity’s eyes went to his now blackened hooves, one of them raised in the air between her and Macintosh.

“You wouldn’t,” Rarity said, giving him a hard glare.

“Do what?” Macintosh asked innocently. He wiped his hooves on the grass, but it didn’t do anything to ease Rarity’s glare. With a huff, she turned back to her work.

“Well excuse me for looking out for your wellbeing,” she said. “All I’m saying Macintosh is that you should be aware of possible problems in the relationship. I don’t think it would be as uncomplicated as you may hope it to be. For example, are you two monogamous during your ‘testing the water’ phase?”

Macintosh shrugged. “Ah don’t know, and honestly Ah don’t think its worth worryin’ about. Ah don’t wanna think about this too much.”

“Macintosh, sweetie, if there’s anything you should really think about it’s a relationship. What if you two aren’t compatible? What if you want different things? What if—”

“Rarity, you could ‘what if’ this into the ground,” he said. “It feels like Ah’ve been doing nothing but thinkin’ and worryin’ for the past few months. Ah’m done trying to figure things out. All Ah wanna do is just relax and have a bit of fun. Maybe get my mind off the farm like Applejack wanted.”

“That makes sense, I suppose,” Rarity said with a smirk. “There’s nothing like a mare to distract a stallion.”

“Don’t gotta tell me,” Macintosh said with a smile. “Ah’ve been distracted by mares since Spring. Ah really gotta find friends that are stallions or at least get into a fight or two. Haven’t broken a bone in a while.”

Rarity chuckled. “How about you focus on your drawing for now. Remember, learning to draw is less about learning to manipulate your tools, and more about learning how to see what’s right in front of you.”

“Ah think Ah can see just fine, Rarity,” Macintosh said dryly.

“Oh hush,” Rarity scoffed. “I’m being serious.”

Macintosh shrugged, settled down, and went back to his empty piece of paper. It only took a couple of minutes of staring at the tree for Macintosh to understand exactly what Rarity meant. He could see the apple tree as clear as day, but when he tried to recreate it on a piece of paper he failed miserably. He spent ten minutes just trying to accurately represent the curve of a trunk, though he never got it just right. First he drew it too steep, then too shallow, then too steep again.

Mac dropped his charcoal. “Guess Ah just need more practice.” He stared at the only line on his pad of paper amongst a small pile of eraser residue. He sighed at his lack of skill and turned to Rarity, who gave him an encouraging smile. It didn’t help matters. “Maybe I just ain’t cut out for this.”

“It’s only your first lesson,” Rarity said, rubbing his shoulder. “Give it time.” She brought a hoof to her chin and thought for a few moments before continuing. “Let’s take a break.”

Macintosh nodded. He looked over his shoulder at the apple tree behind him, then looked upwards to a couple of ripe apples hanging just above. One precise kick was enough for a couple of apples to fall and land on the soft grass right in front of him and Rarity. With a small grunt he rested on his stomach and stared at his apple. Maybe he would have an easier time drawing it. It seemed simple enough, simpler than drawing an entire tree at least.

The scratching sound of pencil on paper made his ear twitch, but he otherwise ignored it. Rarity was no doubt continuing her drawing. Fine by him, he didn’t feel like talking anyway. Instead he continued to stare at his apple, trying to trace every contour with his eyes. Over and over again until he was sure he could draw the apple with his eyes closed. He was about to pick up his pencil to try just that when Rarity pushed her drawing toward him.

A rendering of his image in graphite greeted his eyes, an exact replica of his pose while staring at the apple. The intricate shading impressed him most. Rarity even captured the gleam of his eyes as they stared at the piece of fruit. It surprised him how much effort she put into drawing him in such a small amount of time.

“Well,” Rarity said with a giggle, “I did say I would paint you one day, didn’t I? Granted, this is only pencil, but I think it’s good practice. I think I’ll call it ‘Mid-day’.” She smiled and levitated the sketch in front of her eyes. She tilted her head and frowned, just slightly. “Tell me, Macintosh, what do you expect from your relationship with Octavia?”

“Rarity…”

“I’m only curious,” Rarity said with an innocent smile. The sketch floated softly to the ground, and Rarity fluttered her eyelashes at him. “I know you don’t want to think of the particulars, but surely you have a hope of how things between you develop. Where do you want it to go?”

Macintosh rolled his eyes but answered her anyway. “Ah honestly don’t know, Rarity,” he said. “All Ah know is that Ah have fun when Ah’m talking to her, and Ah want to get to know her better, and every time she looks at me she’s got a glint in her eye like she’s daring me to stump that wit of hers. Ah’m gettin’ close to doin’ just that; Ah know it.”

“Really?” Rarity said. “And what do you think when I look at you.”

“If we had foals would they turn out pink,” he said.

Rarity lowered her eyelids. “That’s not funny, Macintosh.”

“Ah’m sorry Rarity, but havin’ pink foals is an important life decision. Pink ain’t an easy color to pull off. Sure Pinkie Pie looks cute with it, but she’s a hard act to follow.”

“Nonsense,” Rarity said. “If they were my foals they would be able to pull off any color their coat and mane may be. I would make sure of it.”

They both had a good chuckle and Macintosh again tried to draw his apple. “It’s gonna take a lot of practice for me to get any kind of good at this,” he said.

“It’ll take time,” Rarity said. “You can’t expect skill and talent to develop overnight.” She stood up with a stretch. “I should be getting back to Carousel Boutique. I have a pile of work that needs to be done. What do you say, Macintosh? Same time the day after tomorrow? That would give you plenty of time to practice.”

“Sounds good, Rarity,” Macintosh said absently, making his first line of his paper. He darted his head up when a thought suddenly came to him. “Before ya go, Rarity. Have you talked to Applejack lately?”

“Of course, I was talking with her just yesterday about Rainbow Dash and her recent training schedule,” Rarity said. “Why do you ask?”

“Ah was wonderin’ whether she said anything about me...and the farm,” Mac said. He focused back on his sketchpad in an attempt to look disinterested in her answer. It didn’t fool her, and Mac felt his cheeks grow hotter when Rarity pressed her cheek against his.

“I thought you said you were done trying to figure things out,” she said with a smile. “There’s no need to worry. I’m sure Applejack only has your best interest at heart. You’ve changed so much for the better. No need to spoil it now.” Macintosh sighed and gave her a nod, unwilling to argue her point. Rarity gave him a peck on the cheek. “If that’s settled then I should get going. Good luck, Macintosh, and take your time.”

“Always do,” he said. She gave him a nod, levitated her pencil, pad, and apple, and headed to the farmstead where the path to Ponyville awaited her. Mac watched her go, and decided to put the conversation out of his mind in favor of drawing his apple. He picked up a piece of charcoal, heeded Rarity’s advice, and took his time. No small detail escaped his eyes.
The sun hovered closer and closer to the horizon as Mac’s drawing tools made hesitant marks and his eraser made his mistakes disappear. Finally, after a few hours, he was done. He pushed his sketchbook away, and placed the apple beside it to better judge his drawing. The top half was drawn at an entirely different angle than the bottom, probably caused when he moved the apple to get a better feel for the shape. His shading was rough as well. Too much gray, he decided. The highlights weren’t all that bright, and the shadows weren’t all that dark.

Macintosh shook his head and flipped to the next page. He touched pencil to paper and started doodling, no real intent in mind. Things certainly have changed, haven’t they? He couldn’t even remember the last time he tucked his sister in. Mac smiled. Definitely a long, long time ago. Before his injury, before even the Elements of Harmony, before Applejack got her cutie mark. Big Mac looked down at his sketchpad, and found that in all his reminiscing he had drawn a crude representation of Applejack, back when she was a little filly. She stood there, hatless and happy. Mac sighed, and turned the page. That was enough drawing for one day.

He ate the apple—enjoying a bit of spiteful joy as he ate—and loaded his supplies on his back before heading back home. All in all, drawing seemed like a good way to waste time, though he wasn’t sure if it would go anywhere. Now he had to figure out what to do with the rest of the day and some of the night. Maybe he could do something a bit more physically demanding, something that would ensure a good night’s sleep.

As he came to the porch the front door opened and Rainbow Dash stepped through. They stared at each other for a few seconds, Macintosh waiting for her to speak first as she often did. She didn’t, and instead only looked at wherever Mac’s eyes weren’t. It reminded him of the small competitions of silence they had when they first got to really know each other. Finally, Mac decided to break the silence.

“Lookin’ better than when ya went through my window.” It was the truth. Her mane didn’t look as unkempt, though still uncombed as always. Her coat looked a lot softer and cleaner as well. “Smell better too,” he added.

“Uh, yeah, Applejack let me use your shower after I woke up,” she said before kicking the door close with a hindleg. “Uh, sorry for falling asleep on your bed.”

Mac chuckled. “Ain’t like ya to worry about a little thing like that.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dash said, “but Applejack talked to me, and I figured I should probably say sorry or something.” She shrugged her shoulders and walked down the stairs. “I guess it wasn’t a good idea to pretend I spent the night, but you should’ve seen the look on her face,” she laughed quietly, and Macintosh gave her a small smile. “So you want to hang out or something? Maybe watch me train?”

Macintosh walked beside her as she headed to one of the empty fields of grass nearby. The Apple family always made sure to maintain a couple of fields in case two certain mares wanted to go head to head in a contest of strength and skill. It happened quite often.

“Ah rather train with ya,” Mac said. “Ah’ve done enough watching for the day.” An idea suddenly struck him and a smirk crept onto his face. “How ‘bout we race?”

Dash’s wings twitched at his proposal. She narrowed his eyes at him. “A race, huh? Name your terms.”

“A runnin’ race, of course,” he said. “Five laps around Sweet Apple Acres.” Dash’s eyes widened for just a second before a more cocky expression took over. Mac easily saw past her bravado. Sweet Apple Acres was several miles around, and five laps would be no easy feat. If it was one lap then Dash would easily win with her speed, but with five laps endurance became an important factor to winning. Suddenly the odds were a bit more even.

“Alright, let’s do it. Where do we start?” Dash asked.

Macintosh led the way to a dirt path. It was the same one that led to Ponyville, but a fork nearby branched toward a particularly thick section of the apple orchard. He pointed to it. “You take that path and it takes ya all around the orchard.” He drew a line on the ground. “This’ll be our startin’ and finish line.” Already Dash was crouched at the line, ready to go. Mac smiled, dropped his sketchbook and pencil, and crouched at the line as well. “You ready to lose?” he teased.

“I can beat you in my sleep,” Dash said.

“You could only beat me in yer sleep,” Mac said. “In yer dreams.”

“Big talk, Big Mac, let’s see if you can back it up. Go!”

They were off.

Dash took an early lead, as what was expected, but it didn’t shake Mac’s confidence. Not even when she was just a speck in his vision. The first lap wasn’t even halfway done; he needed to pace himself. Even so, he made sure to never lose sight of her. Last thing he needed was for her to put an entire lap between them.

The air rushed through his mane and cooled the sweat on his body. His thoughts were immersed in loud hoof-beats. The whistle of wind. The smell of apples. The rustling of leaves. The golden light of the late day sun. They all came together and painted the perfect afternoon.

Dash looked over her shoulder and smirked at the gap between her and Mac. He didn’t mind, the race had just begun. It was much too early to get cocky, and Mac still felt good enough to run a hundred miles. He made sure to stay behind her at all times, keeping the same distance between them and letting her think she held a commanding lead. All the while he was conserving energy.

But he wasn’t completely impervious to the strain. Once the first lap was completed the constant running started to get to him. His breath became haggard and his joints began to ache, but he pressed on. His suffering didn’t seem so bad when he noticed that Dash was starting to slow down as well. He kept to his strategy.

The fifth lap came as the sun dipped down below the horizon, and it was during the last couple hundred yards that Macintosh made his move. He galloped as fast as he could and slowly caught up to Dash until he was right beside her. Dash wasn’t about to give up her lead and ran ahead by just a hair. She smirked at him, and he gave her one in return. They gave each other hard stares, trying to psych the other one out. Mac couldn’t help but notice how bright her eyes shone.

Neither of them saw Twilight walking on the path.

The collision was a mass of hooves, manes, books, and tools all tumbling over each other amongst yelps and shouts of surprise and pain. Once the dust settled Macintosh was covered in dirt, books, and a rather large metal instrument that resembled an amalgam of a telescope, a drafting compass, and a sliding protractor. He was on his back and on top of Rainbow Dash and Twilight Sparkle, both groaning from his weight. He quickly rolled away and helped both mares up to their hooves.

“Y’all okay?” he asked, patting the dirt off of his coat. They both assured him they were fine, though stumbled a bit as they tried to keep on all fours. Twilight adjusted the strap on her saddlebags and levitated her books and metal gadget. Thankfully nothing was damaged, only dirty.

“Sorry, Twi,” Dash said. “Me and Mac were racing and we didn’t see you.”

“It’s alright, Dash. I should really stop reading and walking at the same time,” she said with a smile.

“So what brings ya to Sweet Apple Acres, Miss Sparkle?” Macintosh asked.

“Stargazing,” Twilight said, “I can see a lot more stars the farther from Ponyville I get. There’s a lot less light out here. Hey, you guys want to join me? I would really like some company to talk to.”

“Sure, I’m in,” Dash said. “As soon as I finish my race with Mac.”

“What’s to finish?” he asked, pointing to the ground. To Dash’s horror, Mac was past their finish line—barely visible through their hoof-prints—and she was not. “Ah won.”

“Hey wait, but Twilight got in the way! I want a rematch.”

“Don’t be a sore loser now,” Mac said with a smile. “’Fraid the race really tuckered me out and looking at the stars sounds mighty peaceful. You mind if Ah come along, Twilight?”

“Of course you can,” Twilight said. “Actually, I was wondering if you knew any good spots to stargaze. Something away from any bright lights or any trees that could obstruct our view.”

“Ah know just the spot.”

“I still want a rematch,” Dash said with a scowl.

Mac smiled. “How ‘bout instead Ah share with ya the last bottle of applejack Ah got?”

“Applejack?” Twilight asked.

Dash’s frown softened a bit. “It’s a start,” she said. “I’m pretty tired too, you know. Not sure if I can walk all the way to a stargazing spot.”

“Is Applejack coming too?”

Macintosh didn’t mention her wings, which seemed to be in tip top shape. “Well if ya don’t mind all the sweat yer welcome to hitch a ride on my back.”

“Like that’ll stop me,” Dash said with a smile. With a flap of her wings she took to the air only to land on Mac’s back. He grunted at the new weight, but quickly recovered. He took his sketchpad and pencil and handed it to her to carry.

“So where are you hiding your applejack this time?” Dash asked.

“Will someone answer my question? Why do you guys keep talking about Applejack?” Twilight asked.

“Not Applejack the pony,” Dash said with a laugh. “The drink she’s named after.”

“A drink? Is it made with apples?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said. He started to lead them to his favorite stargazing spot as he spoke. “You can have some too, Twilight. It’s a bit of work to make it, so Ah like to hide it where Applejack and Granny Smith can’t get to it. You wouldn’t believe how fast applejack disappears around those two. It’s a family favorite. Heck it’s why my dad named Applejack Applejack. Least that’s how the story goes.”

“Wow, it must be delicious,” Twilight said.

“It sure is,” Dash said.

Macintosh suddenly stopped beside an apple tree, almost indistinguishable from the others. He went to the base of the trunk and started to dig. Soon he revealed a small burrow that hid his last bottle of applejack. He took it out, cool to the touch, and gave it to Dash who took it gladly. He then went back to retrieve three squat glasses and gave them for Twilight to levitate.

“Pretty lucky that there’s three,” Dash said.

“Ain’t luck. Ah always hide a few glasses in my hiding places. Six with cider, four with applejack. Mostly for family reunions. Ya never know when a couple of cousins want to drink and talk in peace without little ones beggin’ for a sip. But seein’ as how this here’s my last bottle, Ah’m gonna have to ask my cousins to bring their own.”

“Sorry,” Dash said.

“Don’t worry about it, sugarcube,” Mac said. “Rather share it with friends than cousins Ah only see once a year. C’mon, my stargazin’ spot ain’t too far from here.”

Macintosh continued to lead them until they came upon the same large hill that he had taken Octavia to earlier in the day.

“Hey Mac,” Dash said, “When’s the next Apple family reunion anyway? Isn’t it held about this time of year?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said. “RSVPs are already comin’ in. It’s all set to be held here in about a week.”

“A week?” Twilight said. “That doesn’t give you a lot of time to prepare.”

“It’s plenty,” he said. “Not a lot of ponies are comin’ this year. Least not as much as we’ve had in years past. We should be all right.”

Once the trio arrived at the top they settled down. Twilight picked a spot to rest on her stomach and opened and spread her books all around her. Macintosh followed suit and took a spot near Twilight, and Dash slid off his back to sit between them.

Dash handed him the bottle of applejack and started blowing the dirt off of the glasses with her wings. Macintosh unscrewed the bottle’s cap and began pouring out generous amounts. Dash gave Twilight a glass and then took a good sip from her own. Macintosh did the same.

Not wanting to be left behind, Twilight took a sip as well and immediately started coughing from the strength of the drink. Dash held back a laugh and patted her friend on the back until her coughing fit ended. “Why didn’t you tell me it was alcoholic?” Twilight asked, her eyes watering.

“It was funnier this way,” Dash said. “I know you don’t drink much, but try some more. It’s really good, you just gotta get past the burn.”

Twilight stared at her glass, contemplating whether to take another sip. She tipped the glass and took a much smaller amount of the amber liquid. She grimaced for a moment but then found the taste and smiled, just a little. “I guess it’s not that bad.”

“So what are you doing staring at stars for anyway?” Dash asked, taking another sip.

“I wanted to try making a star chart for fun. See? I even brought a sextant.” She levitated her gadget and Mac could clearly see the small eye piece a pony was supposed to look through as well as the moving parts meant to fine tune measurements. Dash, meanwhile, giggled at the name of the instrument.

“A what-tant?” Dash asked.

“Sex. It’s a sex—“ Twilight covered her mouth as a blush started to tinge her cheeks. She glared at Dash, but it only succeeded in making the pegasus laugh harder. Mac couldn’t help but smile, even if the joke was a bit less than clever. He took another taste of his drink and quietly looked up at the twinkling dots of light.

Meanwhile Twilight and Dash started their own conversation, mostly about their friends. How Rarity seemed a bit distracted lately, how Pinkie Pie had been hit by a pretty bad flu bug, and how Fluttershy was diligently caring for her while the Cakes tended to Sugarcube Corner and the twins, and how Applejack busied herself with preparations for the coming Fall.

The bottle of applejack was slowly taken of its contents as the night wore on. Mac and Dash did most of the work, while Twilight only had her single glass. It didn’t take long for the mixture of alcohol, the waning night, and her sleep deprivation over the last few days to take its toll on Dash. With a loud yawn she leaned against Mac, ready to fall asleep.

“Looks like it’s time to turn in,” he said.

“You kidding?” Dash asked, “we’re only halfway through the bottle.” Despite her words, she fell asleep soon after. Mac smiled and wondered if she was actually sleeping. It wouldn’t be the first time she was faking it.

He looked over at Twilight and held a hoof to his lips. Slowly, he stroked her forelock until it was nice and tidy. Twilight giggled, but even that wasn’t enough to wake the pegasus. Upping the ante, Mac pointed to the tie around his mane and then to Dash’s mane, and Twilight immediately understood. She took the band out of his hair with her magic and fitted it on Dash. She looked pretty good with a ponytail.

“She’s a really deep sleeper,” Twilight said with a giggle. Macintosh nodded though didn’t reveal his suspicions. Her smile suddenly vanished as she looked closely at Dash’s face. “She’s been training nonstop for days. I’m really worried about her.”

“Applejack said pretty much the same,” Mac said. “When we went to the airshow we got to meet Spitfire and Soarin. They gave her a pretty…honest critique about her flying.”

“No wonder she’s been training so hard,” Twilight said, sighing softly. “I know Applejack’s talked to her about overtraining, but you know Dash.” Her eyes suddenly brightened with an idea and a smile crossed her face. “Hey, that’s it! You know Dash. Maybe you can convince her to take a break.”

“You sure that’s, uh,” Mac stuttered, trying to pick his words carefully. The last thing he wanted was to get into some debate about when it was appropriate for ponies to get into their friends’ business. He turned up nothing and so, after failing that endeavor, he decided to simply weasel out of it. “Ah mean, y’all know her better than me. If her best friends can’t change her mind then what hope do Ah got?”

“You’re selling yourself short, Macintosh,” Twilight said. “Sure you haven’t been friends for as long, but she really admires you. Just yesterday, when she crashed on my balcony, she said that if she was half as strong and determined as you she would already be a Wonderbolt.”

Mac quirked an eyebrow at Twilight before his gaze fell on Rainbow Dash sleeping next to him. “She must’ve been pretty down on herself if she said that,” Mac said. It was the only way he could ever imagine the cocky mare admitting any shortcomings.

“I’m not sure, but she did look completely exhausted. So will you talk to her?” Twilight asked.

“Eeyup,” Mac said, holding back a sigh. He stared up at the stars and hoped that he could spend a few minutes in silence. All the while he kept thinking of what he would say to Dash, and when he would say it. The sooner the better, he decided. “Guess Ah’ll talk to her when Ah walk her home.”

“Thanks Macintosh,” Twilight said. “I should get home too.” She remained still, however, and looked through her sextant up at the stars. Macintosh wondered if she really planned to go home anytime soon. He gently nudged Dash’s shoulder and stirred her awake. Her eyes fluttered open, and with a groan she buried her face into his coat, refusing to get up.

“C’mon, it’s time to get ya home,” he said firmly.

Dash gave him a grunt and, without a word, climbed on top of his back. Big Mac rolled his eyes, but didn’t even attempt to shake her off. He stood up and said goodbye to Twilight before walking in the direction of Dash’s house.

“Say Dash,” he said to the pegasus on his back, hoping to keep her awake with a bit of conversation. “Has Applejack talked to ya lately, besides today Ah mean?”

Dash snorted at the name of one of her best friends. “Sure she has, she won’t shut up. ‘Dash don’t train so dang hard’, ‘Yer gonna get yerself hurt, Rainbow’. If that wasn’t bad enough now she’s got all our friends against me too. Fluttershy, and Rarity, and Twilight. At least Pinkie’s too sick to tell me anything.”

Macintosh nodded. “Eeyup, Twilight and Applejack’s been tellin’ me how much you’ve been training too,” he said. The breeze started to pick up, and the air filled with the quiet croon of the wind as it traveled through the branches. There was no moon tonight, and so the stars shone brilliantly against the black expanse of sky partially visible through the canopy of leaves.

“Are you going to tell me to stop too?” Dash asked, her grip around his neck weakening.

Macintosh stared at the grass for a few seconds until, finally, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “No, Ah ain’t.” He could feel her weight shift as she perked up from his answer.

“Y-you sure?” she asked.

Macintosh found the path that would lead them to her house, but he stayed beside it. He wanted to keep the feel of grass on his hooves. “Dash, Ah know what’s it’s like to want something. Want something so much you’d break every bone in your body to get it. So much that yer willin’ to work all day and night just to get a little closer to it. So much that the words ponies use to stop ya—words like ‘obsession’, ‘exhaustion’, and ‘stupidity’—start soundin’ less like words of concern and more like excuses so they can tell you how to live your life.”

Macintosh took another deep breath to quell the heat burning his throat, and waited for Dash to say something. She didn’t say a word, but her grip around his neck tightened and her nose pressed against the back of his neck, so he decided to continue. “But those ponies honestly love ya, and care for ya, and only want ya to be happy, and sometimes they’re the only ones that can knock some sense into ya.”

Dash’s home appeared in the far-off distance, and Macintosh paused again. He wanted desperately for her to say something, anything. At least then he wouldn’t feel as if he was rambling to the air. Still, her forelegs around his neck was more than enough for him to keep going, if reluctantly. Before he could open his mouth, however, Dash finally spoke.

“What would you do if you were me?” she asked. Her voice was quiet and soft. “I don’t want my friends to worry about me, but if I don’t train harder then I’ll never get into the Wonderbolts.”

“What Ah would do, huh?” Macintosh hummed. “If Ah were you Ah’d wake up, have a big breakfast, start training, and never, ever stop.”

“Is that what you want me to do?” Dash asked.

“Nnope,” Big Mac said as the pair finally arrived at Dash’s house. He shook himself and managed to plop Rainbow Dash beside him. “Ah want ya to take it easy so ya got time to hang out with yer friends. Especially me, so Ah ain’t gotta feel bored outta my skull all the time.” His words didn’t seem to cheer Dash up, instead she looked at the ground for a few moments until she stood, walked up to him, and gently struck her forelock against his chest.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said.

Mac tried to smile, truly he did, but all he could do was wrap a hoof around her in a hug. “Sugarcube, Ah wish Ah could tell ya, but I don’t know the answer. So far, Ah think the only thing to do is what feels right. Long as you do that everything is gonna be okay.” Dash didn’t say a word and only stood on her back legs and wrapped her forelegs around his neck in a hug, her head leaning against his. They stayed there for a few minutes. Macintosh didn’t mind, allowing her as much time as she needed.

“You’re the best, Mac,” Dash said, releasing her hug. She took a couple steps back and gave him a smile. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Mac said. “Yer cuter with a smile anyway. Best to get some sleep now.” Dash nodded and with a last goodbye she took to the air and went inside her cloud home. Mac saw her go before walking back to the farm. He didn’t get far before he felt something light hit the back of his head. It fell to the floor where Mac recognized it as the hairband he and Twilight tied around Dash’s mane.

“I still want that rematch,” Dash’s voice called down from her house. Her head poked out from behind the cloud. Mac smiled and gave her a nod, and Dash vanished inside her home once again. He was alone for now and he was glad for that at least. It certainly had been a busy day. A date, a drawing lesson, a race, and stargazing, all right after the other. Not exactly his usual doings, that was for sure.

Macintosh sighed as a cool breeze blew through the outskirts of the farm. Without meaning to he found himself back at the stargazing hill. Twilight was still at the top looking through her sextant at the stars. He had to go up there to fetch his sketching supplies and the bottle of applejack anyway, so Mac decided to head up the hill, not minding the possibility for conversation. For once, he actually wanted to talk to her.

“Did you talk to her?” Twilight asked, setting down her instrument. Macintosh nodded. “What did she say?”

“She needed to think about it,” Mac said simply. Twilight opened her mouth to ask more, but decided against it. She looked back at the stars. Big Mac decided that now was as good a time as any to ask a question he had been pondering for a while. “Twilight, do you think a pony can change who they are?”

“Sure a pony can change,” Twilight said happily. “Take you for example. I can’t imagine you asking me a question like that a couple of months ago.”

Macintosh smiled despite himself. No truer words were ever spoken. He shifted his weight for a few seconds, and looked up at the sky and the stars above. He noted the constellations he knew, and went through the stories of the ponies associated with each. A couple of them were members of the Apple family—if Granny Smith was to be believed. All the while Twilight looked at the same stars through her sextant. After each gaze she took notes and drew some lines and dots on a sheet of paper.

“So you think Dash is training too hard?” Big Mac asked.

“Of course I do,” Twilight said. “Applejack noticed first. Apparently Dash crashed through the barn when Applejack was clearing out straw. She tried to tell Dash to take a rest, but she wouldn’t listen. So she asked the rest of us if we could talk to her, but...well no luck.”

“What did Applejack tell you?” Mac asked.

Twilight tapped her chin in thought. “Applejack said she was worried about her, and that she was working herself to death just like…you…” Twilight trailed off and looked up at the stars without her sextant. Macintosh looked up as well. They were silent for several minutes until finally Twilight sighed and looked at him. “Applejack loves her friends and family, Macintosh,” she said.

“Ah know,” Mac said.

“I better get home,” Twilight said. “It’s getting kind of late.” She stood up with a stretch and started gathering her things into her saddlebags. Macintosh nodded and stood as well. The sun had set a few hours ago. Applebloom and Granny Smith would be in bed by now, and Applejack was probably getting ready to hit the hay herself.

“I’ll walk with you,” Macintosh said.

“Don’t worry,” she said, “I’ve been practicing my teleportation spell, specifically my range. I’m pretty sure I could get to my house without a problem.” Her horn glinted briefly before the light grew stronger and enveloped her horn. “Bye, Macintosh. It was fun.”

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said with a smile. Twilight disappeared in a flash of light, but Macintosh didn’t move for a few moments. Just in case she had teleported to the wrong place and came back. When he did head toward the farmstead, it was with his drawing supplies balancing on his back.

He didn’t head directly home at first and opted instead to take a quick look around the farm. The fields with summer vegetables were weeded and watered. Windfall apples were nowhere to be found, cleared and gathered and on their way to become applesauce. The grass was mowed and the last of the season’s apples were gone from their storage, no doubt sold. There was, however, one field that remained unplowed and barren, and it sat right beside Woody the Tree. Macintosh spent quite a while staring at the untilled dirt, deciding just what to do. In the end he walked away and went home. Despite that one field, Applejack was doing a diligent job of maintaining and caring for the farm. He couldn’t help but be proud.

When he entered the farmstead he found it as cool and breezy as outside. Almost all of the house’s windows were open to make sure the house didn’t get too stuffy. It was quiet inside except for the subtle clinks of glass coming from the kitchen, so that was where he went. Applejack was in the middle of making a sandwich. Cheese, onions, tomatoes, and various condiments surrounded a plate holding two slices of bread. Two eggs, sunny-side up, sizzled on the stove. Applejack herself still had her hair ties and hat on.

“Pretty big sandwich for a midnight snack,” Macintosh said with a smile.

Applejack smiled back, though less enthusiastically. She could hardly keep her eyes open. “It’s more of a late dinner,” she said. “Ah’m just gonna eat and start plowing that last field out by that tree that looks like it got hit by a train.”

“Ya look awfully tired, sugarcube,” Mac said gently. “Ah could do the field while you get to bed. It ain’t like it would be any trouble for me.”

“Thanks, Mac, but Ah can handle it,” she said before retrieving the eggs and turning off the stove. With a flick of her head she launched the eggs to land perfectly on the waiting slices of bread. “You had a big day, so go ahead and get some sleep.”

He nodded and went out of the kitchen to head upstairs. Mac knew full well that rehashing the same old issue wouldn’t do him any good. Now he had to think of how to get to sleep. He didn’t feel tired at all. In fact, he felt like he could run another five laps around Sweet Apple Acres. Maybe he could go see Dash and schedule that rematch for tonight.

The thought was quickly forgotten as Mac opened his bedroom door and was greeted by a wave of heat. Unlike the rest of the house, his window remained closed causing the room to become hot and stuffy. He quickly opened his window and left the door open, allowing air to circulate. Now, on top of everything else, he had to try to get some sleep in this heat as well.

He sighed as he looked at his neatly made bed, wondering who had fixed his sheets since he had left the farmstead that morning. It wasn’t just the heat and his untapped energy that would make it difficult to sleep. As soon as he closed that door, enveloping his room in darkness and silence, his doubt and confusion would well up, and his mind would race as it tried to think of a solution. He needed something to fill the air, something he could really concentrate on so that nothing else could intrude upon his mind.

Macintosh looked around the room, and his eyes stopped at his closet’s handle. Could he? It had been so long, too long, but maybe now was as good a time as ever to fetch the old thing. He opened his closet and the trunk inside it and grabbed the small yet thick wooden box with the windup key. In the past, seeing this box always filled him with bad memories, but maybe now it could bring him some comfort.

His mother’s singing always had that effect on him.

Carefully, Mac placed the wooden box on the floor and rested on his stomach in front of it. He opened its hinged lid, and he could see the small, delicate teeth of the music box, the spring that powered it, and the governor that controlled it. The assembly was dusty, but free of rust. It would play just as it was meant to without a doubt. Big Mac wound the key and pulled it away to let the music start.

The bass notes rang clearly first. A two part pattern of note-chord-note-chord. Smooth and steady like a heartbeat. Low and then just a bit higher. The melody came in a few bars later. It was in the upper range, and its rounded sound resonated proudly. It was a serene melody, relaxed as it flew into the highs before coming down into the midtones. And yet, there was something sad about that melody. A small bit of dissonance that colored the bright rings.

The melody had just repeated when Macintosh saw, from the corner of his eye, Applejack standing by the open door frame. She peered inside, curious, and with a nod Mac beckoned her over. She came in and stood beside the music box until she decided to lay down beside Mac on the floor.

“Why does this sound so familiar?” she asked him.

He smiled. “It’s mom’s music box. She used to sing along with it when she was tucking us into bed.”

“What are the words?” Applejack asked. Her eyelids started to become heavier, and Mac could see that sleep would soon take her.

“Ain’t no words, sugarcube,” Mac said softly. “She used to just hum along. Like this.” Mac gently hummed a combination of the harmony and melody, creating a little song backed up by the chiming music box. It wasn’t exactly like how his mother used to do it, his voice was much deeper after all, but it didn’t take long for the tune to lull Applejack to sleep. Just as it did all those years ago.

The music box, and Mac’s humming, lasted several minutes more until they both faded into the air. With soft and careful movement, the eldest Apple lifted his sister on his back and headed for her room.

A cool breeze blew in through Applejack’s open window. Big Macintosh slid her onto her bed, and pulled the covers over her before taking off her prized hat. He placed it on her nightstand, and with a final kiss on her cheek he left her room, closing the door behind him with a gentle click.

At least he would always be her brother. That would never change. A simple fact inherent in their shared blood. It didn’t matter whether he worked on the farm or not. It didn’t matter if he went on dates, learned new hobbies, or had fun with good friends. Sure, they didn’t need him as much as they used to, but that didn’t mean he was completely useless to them. One day they might need him, and he would always be there. Always. So long as he had that foundation to build upon, he could be happy.

So with a smile, Macintosh went to his room, rested on his bed, and fell asleep. The music box silent on the floor.