“Junior, it's your turn to pick out a bedtime story,” said Ma.
Little Mac – or Junior, as he was sometimes called – eyed the bookcase in his bedroom before turning to look at his ma. “Do you reckon I'm – well, too old for bedtime stories now that I got my mark?” He rubbed the oversized green apple half on his flank.
“Well now, when it comes to bedtime stories, all that matters is if you think you're too old,” answered his mother. “But I was gonna read to AJ anyway, so I might as well read to both of ya.” She rested her hoof on Applejack, pale against the filly's darker orange coat.
“When ya put it that way, I s'pose it makes sense.” Little Mac felt relieved. After all, getting a cutie mark was a big enough change by itself. No need to go switching his life around all at once.
Little Mac walked over to his bookshelf and read through the familiar titles. There was Little Homestead on the Prairie, which was one of his sister's favorites, and next to it was the collection of ancient legends from the early days of Unification that he tended to come back to. However, for reasons he couldn't quite put his hoof on, he wasn't exactly feeling it that night. Maybe it was because of his new mark, but he didn't think that was the only reason.
“Sugar cube, are you stallin' or are you really havin' trouble decidin'?” Ma stepped closer to him.
“I can decide if'n he can't.” AJ grinned.
“Shush, AJ. Let Lil' Mac say his piece first.”
“I'm havin' trouble decidin',” answered Little Mac. He hooked the tip of his hoof on the top of a book spine and pulled it out. The cover showed a dashing unicorn stallion wearing a crown and chain mail, surrounded by armored unicorns and pegasi . . . and a single earth pony dressed as a bard. Maybe that was what felt off.
“See, I wanna hear an old fantasy legend, but none of 'em have earth pony heroes. Least, none of the ones we have. Earth ponies are always the sidekicks.”
“Why does it matter what tribe the hero is if it's a good story?” His mother tilted her head.
“I just . . .” Little Mac struggled to put his feelings into words. “I just need to see that an earth pony like me can be a hero.”
“Oh. Well now, I can understand that.”
“Little Homestead on the Prairie has an earth pony hero,” said Applejack, pointing to the book.
Rolling his eyes, Little Mac said, “What did Laurel do that was heroic?”
“Why, she . . .” His sister trailed off as she crinkled her brow. “All right, I see your point. But what about the story of Mattie Hoss and Cog Burn bringin' the murderin' outlaw Chainy to justice? Now them were some heroic earth ponies.”
“Eyup. But that story doesn't have any fantastical magic. I want somethin' more like the old legends.”
“Old legends, huh?” Ma brought her hoof to her chin. “I reckon I got a story you'll both like. I just gotta go find it. Wait right here.” She trotted out of Little Mac's bedroom.
The siblings looked at each other.
“Do you s'pose Ma bought a new book?” asked AJ.
Little Mac shrugged. “Maybe, but why hide it then?”
When their mother returned, the book she carried in her mouth was not new. It had a weathered cover of cardboard and fabric.
“Ma, was you hidin' that book the same place you hide the Hearths Warmin' presents?” asked Applejack.
Their ma sat down between them and took the book in her front hooves. “Sure, we'll go with that.”
Little Mac narrowed his eyes, but before he could voice his suspicions, his mother spoke again.
“This story was read to me when I was about your age, Junior. It's called Robin Hoof and His Merry Mares.”
“I've heard o' that story, but I never read it,” said Little Mac. “Didn't Robin Hoof steal from the rich to give to the poor?”
“What?” Applejack's jaw dropped. “This story's about a thief? What kinda story is this?”
Ma giggled. “Just like your pa. Don't worry, hon. See, Robin Hoof only stole back what the evil Prince Con already stole from the ponies.”
“Oh.” AJ visibly relaxed. “That's all right then.”
“Who names their kid Prince Con?” asked Little Mac.
“It was short for Zircon. Y'all wanna hear the story?” She cracked open the book.
“I never got the impression that this story has a ton o' magic.” He hopped up onto his bed and peered over her shoulder.
“I doesn't have any magic ladies poppin' out o' lakes and throwin' mystical swords at unicorn princes, no. But it does have an earth pony out-smartin' an evil unicorn prince and his corrupt pegasus sheriff.” Her lightly freckled cheeks crinkled her eyes as she glanced up at him.
“Okay, I'll give it a chance,” said Little Mac with a nod.
Applejack snuggled against Ma's side as she began the story.
“About a century after the three tribes united under the alicorn Princess Celestia's rule, she was called away to deal with a threat from Griffonstone. She put her distant cousin, Prince Zircon, or Con as he was known, in charge o' the nation while she was away.”
“Was he kin to Princess Platinum too?” asked AJ, craning her neck to stare up at her ma. “Was she still alive?”
“None o' the original Founders were still alive, no. I believe he was Platinum's grandson, but this book doesn't say. Now then, Princess Celestia kept on raisin' the sun and moon from Griffonstone, but sent no messages back to Equestria. Everypony expected her to be gone for a few moons, a year at most. But one year turned into two, and then three. Prince Con began to think he was the real ruler o' the kingdom. And he began raisin' taxes to an unreasonable amount, and kept all the coin for himself. He didn't even put it into programs that could help ponies. Worst of all, if ponies couldn't afford to pay their taxes, they were sent to prison.”
“That's awful,” said Applejack, snuggling closer to their mother.
“So Robin Hoof decided to do somethin' about it. He gathered together a group of adventurous outcasts to steal back the gold. I hope you don't mind that there are some earth pony sidekicks, Little Mac, but there are unicorn and pegasus sidekicks too.” Ma winked at him.
“That's fine,” said Little Mac.
Since it was a long story, their ma didn't finish it that night. She read only the first two chapters.
After she reached a good stopping point, she asked, “What do you think of the story so far?”
“It's good. I don't know if I like it better than Prince Sword Fighter, but I'll give it a chance.” He laid down on his bed.
“I like it,” said Applejack. “I wanna find out what happens at the archery contest.” She yawned and rubbed the corner of one eye.
“Best get you to bed now, hon.” Ma rubbed AJ's back before turning to Little Mac. “What about you, Lil' Mac? Do you feel too old to be tucked into bed?”
He thought for a second. “Nnnope.”
His ma drew his covers up to his chin and tucked them in around his sides. Then she kissed his forehead.
“Good night, sugar cube. Sweet dreams. Don't let the nightmares run wild.”
“Why do you always say that? It ain't like I have any control over my dreams.”
Ma blinked. “I don't rightly know. It's just somethin' my p–” Her voice caught in her throat and she suddenly looked like her favorite hen had died. “It's . . . somethin' I was told growin' up.”
“Ma, what's wrong?” Little Mac lifted his head to stare at her with concern.
“Oh, nothin' you need to worry about, hon.” Her smile didn't reach her blue eyes. “Good night.”
“Well, if you're sure.” He knew something was bothering his mother, but it was plain that she didn't want to talk about it. “Good night, Ma. Good night, AJ.”
“Night, Mac.” His sister yawned again.
“C'mon, baby girl.” Ma scooped her up and set her on top of her back like she weighed nothing at all.
Little Mac waited until she turned off his light and her hoofsteps retreated down the hallway. Then he turned on his bedside lamp and picked up the book his mother had left on the side table. He idly flipped it open and found a note written in block letters inside the cover.
TO: PB
I HOPE YOU LOVE THIS STORY AS MUCH AS I DO.
LOVE, PA
Little Mac frowned in confusion. Who was PB? Maybe the B could stand for Buttercup, his mother's name, but what in the world could the P stand for? Was this from her pa or did she get the book second hoof with the note already written to somepony else? And why didn't Ma ever talk about her ma and pa, anyway? Had they . . . died?
Mac read the note again and then closed the book and shut off the lamp. Maybe he'd ask Ma about it in the morning, but he doubted he'd get a straight answer. Ma was a tough nut to crack.
He fell asleep dreaming of hiding out in the woods from the Sheriff of Trottingham and his ponies.
THE END
Author's Note
I had this scene floating around in my head for almost a year, mostly as a way to provide context for Big Mac's apparent horn envy. “The Perfect ~~Pair~~ Pear” gave me the spark I needed to finally write it down and add some extra feels.
If Mac seems talkative in this ficlet, it's because I was trying to find a balance between his standard personality and his demeanor in “Where the Apple Lies.” Hopefully it works.
