Apple Bloom's Family

Chapters

Sweetie Belle's Story
Manehattan
Orange Counter
Foal
Scootaloo's Story
Chalk
The Cliffs
Free
Family
What did you say about my mother?

Sweetie Belle's Story

Scootaloo was waiting for Apple Bloom when her detention finally finished the next day. "Hey Apple Bloom!" she greeted her, handing her her helmet. "How was detention?"

"I must not kick other students," droned Apple Bloom, then she shook out her mane. "It wasn't so bad. Cheerilee and I talked. I told her what Diamond Tiara said, and she agreed – the Apple family has always been really important in Ponyville." She paused, contemplative. "I know I make a lot of mistakes, like when I tried to help Applejack sell apples in the market. Are my family disappointed in me? I don't work as hard as Applejack, and I'm not as strong as Big Macintosh. If I really am an Apple, how am I going to live up to what they can do?"

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom looked at each other for a few moments, Apple Bloom looking as if she were about to cry. Then they both brightened and grinned. "By finding your cutie mark, of course!" said Scootaloo. Apple Bloom laughed and hugged her friend. "Of course! Silly question."

Scootaloo beat her wings and the scooter took off towards Sweet Apple Acres. "Sweetie Belle is already at the clubhouse. She's found something she thinks is a really big clue! Come on, let's go!"

Scootaloo dragged an old apple crate into the middle of the clubhouse and draped a tablecloth over it. "The first meeting of the Cutie Mark Crusaders Investigation into Apple Bloom's Parents is now in session! Sweetie Belle, do you have evidence to present?"

"Yes I do, Madam Chairpony!" pronounced Sweetie Belle, and she drew an envelope from her saddlebags with a great flourish, and deposited it on the makeshift table. "Exhibit A, a letter to Applejack from one Mister Orange Counter, dated five months before Apple Bloom's birth. Also Exhibit A1, a stub from a cheque from the Steeplechase Manehattan Bank, made out to Applejack. Madam Chairpony, shall I read the evidence?"

"Now wait just a minute," interjected Apple Bloom. "You mean we're going through Applejack's mail now? Applejack's private mail? She always said she'd tan my hide for her new boots if I did that."

Sweetie Belle pouted. "Do you want to find out who your parents are or not? I think I know already, just from reading this letter!"

Apple Bloom's doubts evaporated at once. "You do? Well, what are y'all waiting for, let's hear it!"

Sweetie Belle grinned and cleared her throat dramatically. "The reading of Exhibit A!

"Dear Applejack,

I am pleased to report that the final details of the loan from the Steeplechase Manehattan Bank to Sweet Apple Acres have been settled. You and Big Macintosh will be able to draw monies from your loan account at the Ponyville branch office. I am certain that, under your management, this loan will be more than sufficient to recover from this year's blight and restore Sweet Apple Acres to its regular successful business state.

Please also find enclosed the first of my personal cheques, as we discussed. If you should find that this amount is insufficient, please let me know and I can send more. I would hate the thought of not fulfilling my responsibilities to my family.

Yours Sincerely,

Orange Counter"

Sweetie Belle folded the letter back into its envelope. "Don't you see what this means, Apple Bloom?"

Apple Bloom nodded eagerly. "Yes! Yes, I... um... no. What do you think it means, Sweetie Belle?"

Sweetie Belle dragged an old armchair over and settled into it, striking a storyteller's pose. "Alright. Here's what I think happened."

Applejack looked over the apple orchards, or what remained of them after the blight had passed through. Four out of five trees bore the horrific black-tainted leaves that showed the passage of the blight, and the apples on the branches were rotten to the core. She and Big Macintosh had just finished bucking down the apples from the trees that had been spared, and half of those were still green from being harvested too early. Some of them would only be good for cooking, but she wasn't sure she'd be able to sell so many baked goods. The only bright side was that the price of apples would go up after this blight, but with so little volume to sell, that was little consolation.

"I don't know what to do, big brother," she sighed, turning to look at the larger pony beside her. "I just don't. Pa would have known what to do."

"Eyup," commented Big Macintosh. "Wish he were still here."

"Well, he ain't," said Granny Smith matter-of-factly as she trotted up slowly behind them. "But my colt didn't raise no lolly-gaggers. Y'all gonna make this work."

"But how, Granny?" Applejack asked, starting to pace around the front yard of the farmhouse. "Half of these trees are gonna have to be pulled down to stop the blight from spreading again. It'll take years for new seedlings to put out enough fruit to recoup our losses. I just don't see how we can recover from this."

Granny Smith shook her front hooves at Applejack. "Don't you give me that, young filly. This family's been through more blights, droughts, wildfires, floods and earthquakes than you've had hot apple pies. We're Apples, we can git through anything. Now I reckon you know just what you gotta do, you just don't wanna do it!"

Applejack sighed and looked from her grandmother to her brother. "Well... we can sow some of the fields with seeds, and buy some saplings for others. That'll cost us a pretty pile of bits in the short term, but it'll get us back turning a profit sooner. After this year's sales, though, I don't see how we can afford to buy saplings at all. Even the labour for clearing the blighted trees is gonna be more'n we can afford."

Granny Smith nodded. "So we got us a plan, but we don't have the money to make it happen. What do we do about that?"

"Well, we go talk to the bank about a loan, I guess... oh, hay no." Applejack shifted her hooves nervously, tossing her head. "I ain't goin' back to Manehattan. I plum hate that place! Ponies won't look one another in the eye, there ain't no trees to see nor birds to hear, they all look at you sideways if'n you don't eat from the right plate at dinner... I done learned my lesson 'bout the big city. Big Macintosh, how about you go?"

"Nope."

Granny Smith shook her head. "It's gotta be you, Applejack. I can't go all that way. Big Macintosh could go, but they'd just talk circles around him in the big city. You've got the business savvy, Applejack. You'll know what you gotta do."

"But I'm too young!" Applejack almost whined, giving Granny Smith a pleading look. "They'll think I'm just a filly playing at being a mare! They won't listen to me!"

"They will, young mare. I've seen the way you've run this orchard this last year, and I know we're in good hooves. And you know Manehattan better than we do. Our cousins liked you last time you were there. They'll make sure the bank listens to you. Now go find your nice city dress and git yer rump to Manehattan!"

Manehattan

When Applejack arrived in Manehattan, it was just the way she remembered it from her visit as a filly. The streets were narrow and crowded, the buildings were huge and without personality, and the ponies in the street rushed by without a second glance for their fellows. This time, Applejack felt homesick as soon as she set hoof in the city. Already, she missed the wide open fields of Sweet Apple Acres and the friendly community of Ponyville. She had no illusions of finding a home or a life to suit her here, now – she was here strictly on business.

Applejack became conscious of more and more eyes on her as she made her way towards the Orange's neighbourhood. Her orange coat was grimy with the dust and dirt of the road, and her hat hardly met the standards of attire for this area. All around her, well-dressed ponies were giving her a wide berth, and muttering to each other as they glanced sidelong at her. She wondered whether she'd simply been too young to notice those looks the last time she was here. At last she reached her aunt and uncle's apartment building. Even this small piece of familiarity was enough to put her at ease, and she trotted happily up the stairs to knock on their door. The Oranges were distant cousins – third or fourth at least – but that was enough to be considered family, whether you were an Apple or an Orange.

Aunt Orange was just as Applejack remembered her – elegant and graceful, but also warm and kind-hearted, greeting Applejack with a smile. "Applejack, dear! It's been so long, look at how you've grown! Come in, come in!" The orange-maned mare led Applejack into the sitting room, calling out to her husband. "Darling, guess who's come back to visit us?"

Within minutes, Applejack and her aunt and uncle were comfortably ensconced in the sitting room, with hot tea and orange scones being served by the Orange's unicorn butler. "Will we have the pleasure of your company for a while, dear cousin?" asked Uncle Orange. "We still have some of your old things stored away – I can have Hoof set the guest bedroom up for you again if you'd like."

Applejack smiled softly and looked down at her teacup, embarrassed. "That's awfully kind of you," she murmured, finding that her cultured Manehattan accent was coming back to her after all this time. "I think I may be here for some time. I wish I could say that this was a social visit, but I'm afraid it's business that has called me to Manehattan this time."

Aunt Orange nodded gravely. "I expected so, dear. We received Granny Smith's letter about your poor parents. I understand you've been managing Sweet Apple Acres since then? Such a task for a filly your age! I hear you've done a most commendable job, though. And just the cutie mark to match it, too."

Applejack sighed and nodded. "I just do what I know my father would have done. Last year went reasonably, but this year... well, there's been the blight. Half of my crop is ruined, and we need to tear down the diseased trees to make way for new saplings. We can handle the work, but the expenses are going to be beyond us."

Her aunt nodded and smiled. "I understand completely. How much do you need?"

Surprised, Applejack shook her head. "Oh, hay no, I ain't lookin' for charity!" She flushed and placed her hoof over her mouth. "I mean, I'm not... certainly, that is generous, but I couldn't possibly..."

Uncle Orange reached over and patted Applejack's shoulder. "Relax, dear. We're the last ponies in Manehattan you need to impress. We're family."

Applejack relaxed a little, and nudged her head against her uncle's hoof. "Thanks. And really, thank you for the offer, but I couldn't accept any charity. I was hoping, though, that you might be able to help me out in talking to one of the banks for a loan."

"Of course you couldn't, darling, and I shouldn't have offered," replied Aunt Orange. "A loan would be the wisest course here, I think. Our cousin Orange Bloom and her family handle all of our investments. Darling, doesn't Orange Bloom's colt work at the Steeplechase Manehattan?"

"Orange Counter? So he does," agreed Uncle Orange. "Why don't we ask them both to tea tomorrow? We haven't had Orange Bloom over for weeks, have we?"

Uncle Orange disappeared into his study to write the invitations, while Aunt Orange showed Applejack to the guest bedroom. The room had already been fitted out just as Applejack remembered it from her previous stay, down to the same blankets on the bed and her small collection of stuffed animals on the dresser. "Oh, Aunt Orange, you didn't need to go to all this trouble," said Applejack as she embraced the older pony. "I'm a mare now, you don't need to look after me like a filly leaving home for the first time."

"Oh, but we do, dear. You know we don't have any foals of our own... Doctor Crescent says we probably never will... so what can we do but care for the rest of our family? We'll always be here for you if you need us. Now you've come a long way today, so get some sleep. I'm sure my cousin can help you tomorrow."

Applejack climbed into bed, smiling wistfully to herself. Silly aunt and uncle, she thought, treating me like a little filly. It's so good of them to take me in, though. I'm starting to think I can actually make this work.

Before she closed her eyes, she reached out and drew her old favourite stuffed dragon into the bed with her, cuddling up to it as she drifted off to sleep.

As the first rays of dawn stole through Applejack's window, her eyes popped open. Where was her rooster's crow to welcome the morning?

Slowly she sat up and remembered where she was. At least she hadn't slept in. She yawned once and sprang out of bed, rushing to her window to watch the sun rise. "Cock-a-doodle-doo!" she called quietly, thinking of the work that Big Macintosh and Granny Smith would be up to at this hour. Big Macintosh would have started on the work of pulling down the infected trees to be burned, and Granny Smith would be taking care of the day's housework, since she wasn't as young as she once was. She hoped Big Macintosh would be able to keep up the pace on the farm while she was living the high life in Manehattan, and resolved to be back home as soon as her business was concluded.

She turned back to her bedroom, and rummaged through the saddlebags she had brought with her from the farm, checking that all of her documents were where she left them. The most important document was the farm's deed, currently in Granny Smith's name. Lacking any other major collateral, she would have to put the farm itself down as security for the loan. The prospect frightened her, but the farm would be finished without this loan anyway, so they had little choice. Next to the deed was a pile of papers documenting the size and financial history of the farm, to show the bank proof that they could, indeed, pay back the loan once they were over their current difficulties.

Even after reviewing the documents, the sun was still low in the eastern sky. Applejack's stomach was rumbling by this hour, accustomed as she was to eating early in the day. She wandered out into the hallway and made for the dining room, and was surprised by the quiet of the place. A quick peek down the hall showed that her aunt and uncle were still soundly asleep. A faint clattering could be heard from the kitchen, though, so she poked her head in there to find the unicorn servant, "Hoof", hard at work preparing a large omelette for the Oranges' breakfast.

"Good morning, miss!" he called cheerfully as Applejack slipped into the kitchen. He was older than her aunt and uncle, in his middle years, with a dull grey coat and a cutie mark of a hoof bearing a silver platter. "Couldn't sleep past dawn?"

Applejack chuckled nervously as she found a place to stand out of Hoof's way. "It feels strange, not having a day's worth of chores ahead of me. Feels like I've got so much time on my hooves I don't know what to do with it."

The unicorn grinned, his demeanour much softened from the formal visage he presented around the Oranges'. "I know that look when I see it. You can squeeze this morning's orange juice if your hooves are itching to be busy. And if you happen to know anything about baking, Mister Orange wanted some fruit tarts ready for tea with Mrs Orange Bloom this afternoon."

Applejack took to slicing and juicing the oranges at once, glad to be keeping herself occupied. "You sure you ain't gonna get in trouble for this?" she asked as she worked. "My uncle won't think you're treatin' his guests wrong?"

Hoof laughed. "He told me what to expect from you, lass. If it were anypony else, he'd have me flogged for letting a guest dirty her hooves in the kitchen." At Applejack's horrified look, he continued. "Oh, not literally. Mister Orange is the gentlest pony I know. Besides, I worked for his father. It's hard to be afraid of a pony when you remember him learning to walk. Don't tell him I said that."

Applejack drained the orange juice into a porcelain jug and turned her attention to the baking supplies. "It sounds like you're set up all nice here, then. Is your name really Hoof? That sounds like your folks had you all planned out to be a butler since the day you were born."

The unicorn shrugged, expertly levitating the frying pan and tipping the omelette out to be served. "Full name's Arthur Hoofington the Third. Yes, the third, my father worked for your uncle's grandfather, it runs in the family. And maybe they did. It's my special talent, after all," he continued, tilting his head towards his cutie mark. "I love the Oranges, and I love taking care of their guests. On that note, breakfast's up."

Uncle Orange smiled as Applejack sat down for breakfast, and Hoof poured the orange juice. "Sleep well, dear?"

Applejack nodded. "I slept enough. I'm just hoping Granny Smith and Big Macintosh are managing alright without me. Can't help but thinkin' about what needs doing back there."

Aunt Orange helped herself to a large slice of omelette. "You'll be back there soon enough, I'm sure. We know we won't get to keep you. We are both so very proud of you, though. We knew when you first came here that you would do great things."

Applejack blushed and took a long sip of juice. "Aww, 'taint nothin' so great. I'm just doin' what needs doin', is all."

Her uncle shook his head. "A lot of ponies say that while they're doing something no other pony is doing, or wants to do, or can do. I know your mother and father would be proud of the work you're doing."

Aunt Orange sniffed the air and, to lighten the mood, announced, "The fruit pastries for tea this afternoon smell simply divine, Hoof! Have you done something different this time? You've really outdone yourself!"

Hoof bowed his head deeply to Aunt Orange. "I thought that a little apple would be very helpful in the kitchen today, ma'am." Uncle Orange gave Applejack a wink, and she busied herself about her omelette, grinning.

The rest of the morning passed slowly, too slowly for Applejack's liking, as she fretted over the farm's documents or leafed through books in the Oranges' library. After lunch, she took a brief stroll outside, wandering down to a nearby park to watch ducks play in a tiny stream, but it still wasn't the same as the quiet serenity of the farm. She stayed out for as long as she could, then trotted back up to the apartment just as Hoof was setting out the trays for tea.

Applejack barely had time to don her good dress before the guests arrived, and she met them in the sitting room. Orange Bloom was a mare a little older than Aunt Orange, with a bright rose-coloured mane and a light orange coat. She had a pair of glasses perched on her muzzle, and her cutie mark was an orange sitting next to a pile of bits. She rose and offered Applejack a very polite curtsey. "Applejack, it's lovely to meet you. My dear cousin has told me all about you. I hope we can help you. This is my colt, Orange Counter. Say hello, dear."

The stallion seated on Orange Bloom's left was perhaps a year older than Applejack herself, and looked to have been waiting eagerly for the chance to greet her. His coat was a light olive in colour, a striking contrast with the rest of his family. His tail and mane were a handsomely bright orange. He wore a red and white striped tie fastened delicately around his neck, and his flank bore a mark of a book and a pile of oranges. He smiled brightly at Applejack as he rose from his seat and offered her his hoof. "Orange Counter. Lovely to meet you. Mother's told me all about your farm. I'm sure we can get things back to normal within a few years."

Applejack took a seat next to Orange Counter's, as her aunt and uncle exchanged family news and discussions of the economy with Orange Bloom. She was rather relieved to find that her "advisor" was her own age, and not some elderly businesspony who wouldn't be able to relate to her position. Come to think of it, Applejack rarely had the chance to speak with stallions in her age group, since most of her trips into Ponyville lately had been solely to sell apples and buy supplies at the market.

"One thing that may work against us is the fact that so many other farms have been affected by this blight," opened Orange Counter as the tea was poured. "It hasn't just been apples, mind you. My mother's been frantic with making sure our own orange producers come through this blight intact, too. She's drawn funds from our other investments to make sure that nopony skips the work needed to destroy the infected trees and prevent another outbreak next year."

"Wait, you know about this stuff?" asked Applejack, impressed. "I thought you Oranges were all business and high society all the time."

Orange Counter chuckled. "Most of us are. Exhibits A and B, my aunt and uncle. Well, cousins, but they're really such good aunts and uncles to everypony, aren't they? Fine ponies, throw wonderful parties, charming hosts, but I wouldn't put them in charge of an orange juice stall." He smiled graciously to Aunt Orange and passed her the tray of biscuits. "But my mother handles investments for the whole family, and that's a lot of ponies. We all made our fortune in the orange business, and she knows just how to make sure a farm turns a profit. As for me, well, she dragged me around on her farm visits since I was just a little colt, so I know a thing or two."

Applejack nodded and took a sip of tea. "But you don't actually work the land yerself. I can tell from your hooves."

The young stallion laughed. "Oh, my goodness, no. Can you imagine me pulling a plough? I'd break my back before I moved it ten feet. I tried bucking an orange tree once, and I swear it kicked me back. No, I think you'll find I'm quite useless outside Manehattan."

"Aww, come on now, I wouldn't say that," Applejack reassured him, even though she'd said exactly the same thing about the entire Orange family more than once at home. "I'm sure you're right useful. I could have used somepony with your talents doin' all the paperwork for the farm this last year. Ma used to handle all that, and I always thought I'd have plenty of time to learn from her." She shook her head. "Sorry, I don't mean to..."

He nodded sympathetically. "It's alright, I know how it is. I lost my father a few years back. That pony was a financial genius. I used to sit and watch him work his figures and place his investments when I was little. Our family never enjoyed such prosperity as it did under his management. And now I have to live up to his legacy, but I know I'll end up disappointing the family – I'm just not as good as he was."

Applejack held her breath as Orange Counter talked, hearing him say the exact same things she'd felt since her parents' death. "That's just why I'm here. I don't know if I can work as hard as Pa did, or run things as well as Ma, but I gotta try. My family's been growing apples on that land since Ponyville was founded, and I don't want to be the pony to ruin all that."

Orange Counter grinned. "I think disappointing one's parents is traditional. Mother always speaks about her father's brilliance and how she'll never live up to his example. Perhaps it runs in the family. In that case, I know I can live up to at least one expectation!"

Applejack cocked her head to one side. "You don't make a whole lot of sense, y'know."

"I do when I'm working, though. And I'll make sure you get the chance to keep your family's business going. And that's my family's business, to do that. So we both get to win."

Orange Counter

Orange Bloom had arranged an appointment with one of the bank's loan managers for the next day, just before lunch. Orange Counter and Applejack spent the morning going over the farm's papers, making sure that they had all of the information they would need to present to the bank. Again, Applejack was impressed by the depth of knowledge that this seemingly city-bound pony displayed about the highs and lows of agriculture. By late morning, they were sitting in an office in the bank, facing a middle-aged unicorn with a stern demeanour and a large stack of paperwork.

Applejack crossed her front hooves nervously in her lap as she sat in front of the desk, feeling helpless. This conversation would determine the future of her farm, of her family, and it was all in the hooves of this unicorn who looked like he'd never worked a day in his life. She knew that she could easily kick this old stallion through the wall behind him, but that wouldn't get her family the money they needed. It was frustrating.

Orange Counter, in contrast, sat calmly next to her, his paperwork arranged neatly on the desk in front of him. His front hooves rested sedately on the desktop, and he gave the unicorn a polite smile that even seemed genuine.

The unicorn had a golden coat and silver mane, and bore a mark of a sealed vault door on his flank. The nameplate on his desk identified him as one Penny Saved. "So, Miss Applejack," he began, peering down the length of his muzzle at the young mare. "I understand that you are seeking a loan to pay for supplies and labour for your apple orchard. What assurance can you give the lenders of Steeplechase Manehattan Bank that you will be able to bring your business up to the level where you can repay this loan?"

Applejack's temper rose almost as soon as the unicorn started talking. She could tell he was speaking down to her because of her age, or her lack of Manehattan sophistication, and now he was questioning her ability to work hard enough to repay the loan? "Now listen here, Mister Penny Saved, I've been working this here farm for..."

She trailed off as Orange Counter placed his hoof on hers, and let him cut in. "Miss Applejack has a sound business plan for the recovery of Sweet Apple Acres. If you examine the financial records of the ten years previous to this year's blight, you should find that the property's natural profit is more than sufficient to cover the repayments of this loan."

Applejack nodded emphatically. "Darn right. I'm going to ship in a few rows' worth of saplings for short term profits, then fill the remaining fields with half seedlings, half a medium-growth rootstock like Moon-Mare 106. That'll get us back up to peak production in eight years at worst, and give us the quick profits we need to get back on our feet and pay you fine gentlecolts back."

Applejack grew in confidence as she spoke, and the unicorn listened attentively, making notes with a floating quill. Orange Counter started to withdraw his hoof to move his papers, but Applejack placed her other hoof on top of his, squeezing his fetlock gently as she explained the finer details of her plan for the farm's recovery.

"You make a persuasive case, Miss Applejack," replied Penny Saved once Applejack had finished. "If you can truly accomplish everything you say you can, then I have no hesitation in recommending this loan to my superiors. Now, as to the productive output of your property, I shall peruse your financial records."

The unicorn levitated page after page of Applejack's documents across his desk, frowning at the first page, growing intrigued at the second, and snatching up the third in both hooves to examine closely. "This can't be right. So many bushels per acre per year, for ten consecutive years... is this accurate?"

Applejack grinned and raised her hoof as if to tip her hat, before she remembered she was dressed for the city. She let her hoof fall back into her lap alongside Orange Counter's. "Sure is, buddy. That's the Apple family for ya, we know everything there is to know 'bout growing apples."

Penny Saved floated the farm's deed over to the centre of his desk, and scanned up the list of owners. "Apple family, you say... Granny Smith... Ginger Gold... Golden Russet... Paula Red... Red Streak... am I to understand that this property has been owned and cultivated by your family since it was first settled? And that your entire family have had apple-related names and, one must infer, cutie marks?"

Applejack frowned. "Well, sure, I guess... all the family I know is apple growers... but what's that got to do with it? It ain't like we have unicorn magic, we're just simple earth ponies."

Orange Counter and Penny Saved shared a look that Applejack didn't like one bit, and she quietly kicked her cousin under the table. "What? What are you two looking like that for?"

The unicorn smiled condescendingly at the young mare. "Miss Applejack, I'm not sure how you could have missed this, but farms cultivated by earth ponies consistently produce higher yields than equivalent properties managed by unicorns or pegasi. The current estimate is a factor of 40%, am I right, Orange Counter? This is your area of expertise."

"Closer to 50%, although it varies by industry. The tables are in Agricultural Investment Statistics."

"Thank you. Now, a pony's cutie mark is undeniably correlated with their success at related endeavours – that's a self-evident truth. That accounts for another 60% increase over the average for ponies with unrelated cutie marks. Whether you want to call that 'earth pony magic' or 'special talent' or 'we just work really hard', the magic is evident in the market. The true magic, though, comes from the old families, the dynasties. I'm sure Orange Counter here has already bored you with the history of the Orange family – the orange production of his family's holdings is really rather astonishing. The Carrot family accounts for 85% of Equestria's carrot harvest. Even the rock farming industry would collapse if not for the efforts of the Cliffs and the Pies. The influence of the truly old families is difficult to judge, but conservative estimates place most of them at 80% increased yield over younger families."

Applejack's eyed had glazed over slightly while Penny Saved was speaking, but she nodded eagerly at the conclusion. "50% and 60% and 80%? Then the old families are making 130% more apples or carrots or whatever from their land?"

Penny Saved rolled his eyes, while Orange Counter just squeezed Applejack's hoof sympathetically. "Yes. Well," the unicorn continued, "the point is, your family's holdings produce a rather astonishing output of bushels of apples per acre per year. If you can bring your production up to these levels again, then you should be able to pay off this loan in short order. I shall refer this application to my superiors with my full recommendation. You should be hearing from us again soon."

The three ponies stood, and Applejack performed her best curtsey before they left. Outside the bank, Orange Counter put his forelegs around Applejack's shoulders and hugged her tightly. "You were amazing in there, Applejack. Your plan for saving your farm is brilliant. It's in good hooves."

Applejack whickered softly, hugging him back. "Aww, shucks, 'tweren't nothin'. I couldn't have done it without you standin' up for me first. I just can't get the hang of Manehattan ponies."

He chuckled. "You seem to get me alright." He swung his pocket-watch out and flipped it open. "Just in time for lunch, too. Come on, let me take you somewhere nice."

The process took longer than that, of course. There were more interviews to undertake, more negotiations on the size of the loan, the interest rate, and the repayment schedule. Apparently it took the bank a week just to make sure that yes, Granny Smith really owned Sweet Apple Acres and it wasn't actually one of Princess Celestia's private grazing reserves or something. "Oh, I could tell you stories," laughed Orange Counter when Applejack told him about this. "Stranger things happen in this city every day."

When she wasn't dealing with the bank, or visiting the offices of agricultural suppliers to arrange for the rootstock and scion combinations the farm would need to jump-start new production, she took some time to see the sights of Manehattan. Most of what ponies considered the "attractions" of the big city were just places full of noise and bustle to her, but Uncle Orange managed to drag her out to Broadmane for a few nights at the theatre, insisting that she get a "cultural education". Aunt Orange and Orange Bloom brought her along to a society charity dinner to raise funds for better education in rural Equestria, and while Applejack couldn't understand why anypony would pay over a thousand bits for half a plate of carrots and lettuce, no matter how fancily it was cooked, the generosity of the ponies attending impressed her no end. And Orange Counter came to see her as often as he could after work, showing her the city's parks and museums, and generally just keeping her company. It wasn't the same as what she had in Ponyville, but it was worthwhile all the same, and she would be home soon enough.

A few weeks into her visit, Uncle Orange announced that they would be attending a ball being hosted in a few nights' time by Dame Silverhooves, one of Princess Celestia's distant but favoured relatives. "It won't be a huge event," explained Uncle Orange, "only a few dozen Manehattan families, but we can bring a guest, and I think you'd enjoy the company."

"A ball?" asked Applejack, sceptical. "I dunno... those charity dinners were one thing, but a ball? Everypony's going to be all dressed up fancy, and with the dancin' and all... I'm just your poor cousin from Ponyville. I'll say somethin' stupid and embarrass y'all. And I don't have anything to wear, not to dance in."

"Your aunt can arrange a dress for you in no time, dear. And you needn't worry about embarrassing us. You'll do just fine. And even if you do... well, we're proud of you, and we're proud to have you with us, and we'd love our friends to get to know you the way we have. No matter what you do, we would never be ashamed of you. Nopony should be ashamed of his family."

It was against Applejack's better judgement, but she didn't want to let her uncle and aunt down, not after they'd been so kind to her. And she'd always had fun at the dances at home, even if they would be a far cry from any Manehattan event. Still, she was reluctant...

"Besides, it's not as if you won't know anypony. Orange Bloom and her colt will be there, of course."

Applejack perked up. "Orange Counter'll be there? I mean, uh," she stammered, not having meant to make her interest in the young stallion quite so clear, "He's always good conversation, I reckon he can keep me from gettin' too bored. Sure, I'll go."

Her uncle smiled indulgently, patting her on the shoulder with one hoof. "Glad to hear it. Now you should go with your aunt and find a dress – that's all very secret mares' business, so I'll stay right here."

The ballroom was in a large hall overlooking one of Manehattan's large parks. The building itself was impressive – old architecture with pillars in the Cloudsdale style supporting the atrium. Applejack felt overwhelmed by the stately majesty of the hall as a servant pony took her coat and showed her into the ballroom with her aunt and uncle.

Even though Uncle Orange had insisted on arriving early, there was already a small crowd gathering in the ballroom. Ponies were clustering around an elderly silver-coated unicorn, decked out in a light grey dress and silver jewellery. Some young ponies drifted out of the Oranges' way as they approached, and the unicorn greeted them enthusiastically.

"My dear Oranges. So glad you could make it! Not that there was ever any doubt, I don't believe you've missed a ball for as long as I've known you both. And who is this darling filly you've brought with you?"

Applejack was wearing a green dress with red trim and horseshoes. She felt awfully overdressed, but everypony else looked about the same. She executed her best bow to the unicorn before her, bending her right legs and dipping her head.

"Dame Silverhooves, may I present Applejack, a cousin on my mother's side," said her uncle as she stepped forward and bowed. "Applejack, this is Dame Silverhooves, who's been a friend of our family for longer than any of us care to admit." The unicorn and the Oranges all laughed, and Applejack joined in nervously, still feeling overwhelmed.

"Lovely to meet you, dear. Any cousin of the Oranges is a friend of mine. Pray tell, where are you from? Your cousin has mentioned the Apple side of his family, but I don't believe I can trace the connection."

Applejack swallowed nervously before speaking. "Well, Ah'm from mah... I mean... I've come here from my farm outside Ponyville. The Oranges have been so very generous in showing me around and helping me with the bank."

Dame Silverhooves raised an eyebrow. "Ponyville? I'm afraid I've never heard of the town, but it sounds lovely. You are in good hooves with the Oranges, of course. Please, enjoy my hospitality, meet your peers. The first dance will be starting soon."

Applejack drifted away into the crowd as her aunt and uncle caught up on gossip with their host. She was feeling isolated again, the crowd proving no consolation as she caught whispers around her. "Ponyville? I've never heard of such a place. Where in Manehattan is it?" "A farming community, I believe. She must be a landowner like the Oranges." "No, no, look at her hooves, and her mane. She's a farmer." "Really? Well, what in Equestria is she doing here with us gentleponies?"

The young earth pony couldn't help but step into the last speaker's vicinity when she heard that particular jibe, her temper starting to rise. "Now, it seems to me," she said to the speaker, a middle-aged pegasus lady in a light red dress, "that without us farm ponies, you 'gentleponies' wouldn't have a scrap to eat."

The pegasus looked down her muzzle sharply at Applejack. "And it seems to me that you give your opinion very decidedly for so young a pony." The pegasus and her companion turned up their noses and glided away into another knot of ponies. Applejack fumed silently, grinding her horseshoes into the floor of the ballroom.

She was saved from any further attempts at conversation by the string quartet playing the opening notes of the first dance. Aunt Orange had schooled her in the basic steps of the dances she would be expected to know, and she was light enough on her hooves that she thought she would manage well enough. And being left out of the first round of dances would merely expose her to further ridicule. To make matters worse, Orange Counter was nowhere to be seen.

The older couples had already formed up for the first dance, and the younger mares and stallions were pairing off at an alarming rate. Nopony seemed to want to dance with her. At home, she would have shrugged it off and danced by herself or with one of her mare friends, but it was different here. The last thing she wanted as to stand out, alone.

"May I have this dance?" asked a stallion as he glided up next to her. He was a unicorn, several years her senior, with a light red coat and blue mane. Applejack turned to face him, gratefully, and nodded in relief.

The stallion guided her out onto the dance floor, and while a few ponies turned to stare at them, most kept their attention on their own partners. The first few steps of the dance involved merely prancing alongside each other, stepping to the beat without coming into contact with one's partner. Applejack matched the stallion's careful tread easily, her hooves light and sure.

"I had my eye on you since I heard you were from Ponyville," murmured her partner as they trotted past one another in the second stage of the dance. "I've met plenty of fillies from the country. They all come to Manehattan sooner or later, full of country liveliness and charm."

Warning bells started ringing in Applejack's head, and everything her mother had told her about stallions came to mind. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, sir," she replied, making an effort to keep her voice calm and cultured. "I'm really only in Manehattan on business, and I shall be returning to my property once it is concluded."

The unicorn glided alongside Applejack as the third stage began, putting his right front hoof out to meet her left. "Well, then, you'd best take your chances while you still can. Have your fun before you're back and leashed to the plough again, if you know what I mean? Come on, everypony knows you country fillies are always ready to go."

This was definitely the sort of stallion her mother had warned her about. "I don't like your tone, sir," she said quietly, keeping her eyes on the ponies around her, not wanting to create a scene. "I'm merely here to socialise and keep my aunt and uncle company. I'm not looking for any sort of..." She cut off and her eyes went wide as the unicorn's hoof came to rest rather intimately upon her rump.

Her mother had told her exactly how to deal with stallions who did that.

Without thinking twice, Applejack planted her front hooves on the dance floor and kicked the unicorn squarely in the chest with both rear hooves. His shout was quickly covered by the sound of shattering glass as he was propelled through the balcony doors and over the railing.

The musicians froze, holding their bows in readiness as they waited to see what happened next. Everypony in the ballroom turned to look at Applejack, or at the glass tinkling to the floor in what remained of the balcony doors. The only sounds were the muffled cries of the stallion and the sound of breaking branches as he tried to extricate himself from a gorse bush on the ground.

Applejack wanted to disappear. She wanted to keel over and die. Any moment now would come the laughter, and the shunning. She had caused a scene, she had embarrassed her aunt and uncle even after they had assured her that she wouldn't. Everything was going terribly, terribly wrong.

"Well, well. Looks like somepony has had one tequila sunrise too many."

An olive earth pony stepped lightly out of the crowd, and diverted everypony's attention with a few well-placed quips. "You know, a pony should really learn to trot before he tries to canter." He peered out onto the balcony and at the bushes below. "Or fly." The crowd laughed and the music started again, and ponies moved back into the steps of the dance as servants arrived to clear away the broken glass.

Orange Counter stepped up in front of Applejack and gave her a deep bow. "My apologies for being so late, dear cousin. If I'd been here on time, I would never have let old Grabbyhooves anywhere near you. May I have this dance?"

Applejack breathed a sigh of relief and moved quickly into position, hooves moving in perfect unison with Orange Counter's. "That were a mighty fine thing you did just there," she thanked him, abandoning her Manehattan tones. "You done saved me."

Orange Counter shook out his mane as he trotted alongside Applejack. "Really? It looked to me like you saved yourself. Every mare in Manehattan has wanted to do what you just did, they just never had the courage to do it."

Applejack felt herself blushing, and kept quiet for the rest of the dance, contenting herself with enjoying the movement and the proximity to Orange Counter. After the dance came another, then another, and then they excused themselves from their hosts to take in some fresh air.

Applejack regaled Orange Counter with anecdotes from Ponyville as he picked up her coat from the cloakroom. "And that last apple just wouldn't fall no matter how hard I bucked the tree, so Big Macintosh came and tried, but it wouldn't fall for him either, and then he kicked it so hard that the whole tree uprooted and fell down! It took us until supper to get that one planted again, and it turned out somepony had nailed that apple to the branch! We never did figure out who was behind that one, but I reckon it was that weather pegasus, Rainbow Dash. The look on Big Macintosh's face when he heard the roots ripping out of the ground was worth all the work, though."

They had strolled out into the park, and Orange Counter paused under a large tree, laughing. "Ponyville really sounds like a great place. I've got to come and visit you there someday." He looked up at the tree he was leaning against. "Oh, it's a plum tree. In season, too. Pity it's council land, we're not allowed to pick the fruit ourselves."

Applejack peered up into the leaves, then gave the tree's trunk one swift kick with her right rear hoof. Two ripe plums dropped off the branches, landing in her outstretched front hooves. "I don't see none of Celestia's guard watchin' us, do you? Dig in, this is some good fruit, just properly ripe." She sank her teeth into one of the plums, tossing the other to Orange Counter.

Orange Counter stared at Applejack in admiration as he caught the fruit. "You're amazing. In fifty years I'll never learn to do half of what you can."

Applejack shook her head, swallowing the last of her plum. "Ain't nothin' special. I just got a..." she began, but cut off as she felt Orange Counter's mouth against hers.

Applejack was startled, but only paused a moment before slipping a foreleg around Orange Counter's neck and returning the kiss, closing her eyes. Her mother had also told her what to do about stallions like this one, but she decided to make an exception, just this once. It may not have been precisely how she imagined her first kiss, but it was perfect nonetheless.

After several long moments, Orange Counter broke the kiss, and brushed a hoof against Applejack's cheek. "You're... um... yes. Amazing." He looked at the ground, a faint blush rising to his muzzle. "Um. Is... is that alright?"

Applejack smiled and took his hoof in hers. "It's more'n alright, sugar cube. It's... it's real sweet. You're real sweet. You... wanna walk a bit further?"

They walked on through the park, leaning their flanks against each other, sharing jokes and stories, stopping every few minutes for another kiss and a lingering embrace. They came to a clearing where they could sit and watch bats fly across the sky by the moon's light, holding each other's hooves and simply enjoying one another's company.

As the moon reached its zenith, Orange Counter clambered to his feet. "Well, it's been a wonderful night... in so many ways... but I guess I should be walking you home now."

Applejack stared at Orange Counter, her heart racing. Her mouth felt dry from excitement and nerves. Her mother had been extremely clear on moments like these, but right now, she didn't care. She wasn't going to let this moment slip away.

"Well, it's a... a long walk back to my uncle and aunt's place. Maybe I could... stay at your place? If'n you don't mind, that is."

Orange Counter looked as nervous as Applejack felt, but he offered her his hoof and pulled her upright. "I would... that would be... yes. Yes, that is I don't mind, I'd love to... yes."

It was only a short walk to Orange Counter's apartment, and soon they were safely inside, away from prying eyes and disapproving tongues, with only each other's comfort and happiness to consider.

"And then what happened?" asked Scootaloo, leaning forward on her hooves, her face radiant with excitement. Apple Bloom was perched in a chair, listening attentively, but unsure that she liked hearing about her sister kissing a stallion.

Sweetie Belle looked embarrassed. "Well... you know," she mumbled. "Adult stuff."

Scootaloo tilted her head to one side. "What, like working and paying bills and stuff?"

The unicorn filly shook her head. "No, like... like Cheerilee was talking to us about last month?"

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo both looked blank.

Sweetie Belle persisted. "With the diagrams?"

Realisation dawned, and Scootaloo giggled. Apple Bloom, on the other hand, looked disgusted. "Sweetie Belle! That's my sister! I don't want to think about Applejack doing... having... being... eww! What do you know about that stuff, anyway?"

Sweetie Belle shrugged. "Rarity keeps her romance novels on the top shelf where she thinks I can't reach them."

Scootaloo stuffed a hoof into her mouth to keep herself from giggling any more. "Mmf. Okay, so... what happened after that?"

Foal

The next several weeks were like a dream to Applejack. She knew that she was working very hard, negotiating with the bank, consulting with Orange Bloom, and ordering supplies for the farm, and yet she felt as light as a feather. She spent two evenings out of three with Orange Counter, in fancy restaurants and theatres, taking long, quiet walks through the city's parks, or just spending time together at his apartment, or in her aunt and uncle's company.

They did their best to keep their relationship discreet, but the occasional knowing look from her aunt or indulgent smile from her uncle showed that her efforts were mostly in vain, and Orange Bloom was always suspiciously welcoming whenever she came to visit. It occurred to her that maybe this was what her parents would have been like, the first time she brought a colt home. She resolved that she would go to her aunt if she needed any advice regarding Orange Counter, but for now, everything was just perfect.

Finally, Orange Counter informed her that everypony involved had signed off on her loan, and the money would be available to her as soon as a transfer could be arranged to the tiny financial office in Ponyville. "Those Steeplechase Manehattan ponies sure do like to put out a bunch of obstacles for me to jump over," commented Applejack as they walked from the bank to Orange Counter's apartment. "I never would have gotten over them all without your help, you and your ma both."

Orange Counter leaned against Applejack's flank and nuzzled her neck. "It was my pleasure," he murmured. "Quite apart from giving me plenty of chances to share in your company, it's my special talent to help good farm ponies like yourself get the money they need to do their work. Some ponies forget that we'd all starve without you, but I'm not one of them."

Applejack stopped against a corner to kiss him, and then they walked in silence for a few minutes, neither of them wanting to talk about what would have to happen next. Finally, Orange Counter broke the silence. "So, I imagine you'll be going back to Ponyville now that your work here is done?"

She sighed and nodded. "I guess I will. There's no tellin' what Big Macintosh will have done to the place without me to keep an eye on him. And my hooves hurt walkin' on these paved roads all the time." She smiled and nuzzled his flank. "But it's been sure nice, too. My aunt and uncle, and your mother, and... and you."

Orange Counter smiled sadly to her. "It's been nice. More than nice. I... I'm going to have to visit Ponyville one day, meet your brother and your grandmother and all your friends, and see all the good work you're doing."

Applejack nodded silently, chewing her lip.

Orange Counter spoke again. "I love you."

"I love you too, sugar cube," replied Applejack, resting a hoof against his. "It's just... you belong here, in the big city, and I just plain don't. I reckon we'd just make a mess of things if we tried to change that."

"You're right. And I will come and visit, I promise."

They embraced outside Orange Counter's apartment building, then went their separate ways. Applejack trotted her way back to her aunt and uncle's home, her heart heavy but still content. It had been a wonderful time, and she had done everything she came to Manehattan to do. Besides, she really was missing Ponyville deeply, and it would be good to sleep in her own bed and wake up to the rooster's call in the morning once more.

A few days later, the day before Applejack's farewell dinner and subsequent departure for Ponyville, Uncle Orange was surprised to find that Applejack wasn't at breakfast. "Darling, where's Applejack?" he asked his wife, who seemed equally perplexed. "I'm sure I heard her come in last night, but she's usually up before us."

Aunt Orange nudged open Applejack's door and looked in on her. Applejack was curled up in bed, groaning gently. "Applejack, what's wrong?" asked her aunt, immediately concerned. "Are you ill? It's past ten in the morning!"

Applejack stirred and raised her head. "What? Nah, I'm fine, I'm gettin' up..."

Aunt Orange quickly trotted to Applejack's bedside and nudged her back into bed as she tried to rise. "No, you most certainly are not, young mare. You're going to lie right there and Hoof will fetch Doctor Crescent."

Applejack simply groaned and rolled over again, closing her eyes.

The Oranges waited anxiously in their sitting room until Hoof returned with Doctor Crescent, an elderly white unicorn with a bright red crescent moon cutie mark. He proceeded directly to Applejack's room, and the Oranges spent another tense half an hour waiting, hearing him murmuring soft questions and seeing the occasional glow of his diagnostic spells from under the door.

Finally, the door opened and the doctor trotted out, giving the Oranges a polite nod. "Your niece is perfectly healthy," he assured them. "She will be back on her hooves after a little rest."

Aunt Orange frowned. "But she was certainly unwell this morning," she insisted. "She slept far later than she usually does. Something must be wrong."

Doctor Crescent shook his head. "You will have to ask her yourself, old friend. You know I can't talk about my patients."

The Oranges thanked their doctor for his prompt attention, and Hoof showed him out while Uncle Orange looked in on Applejack, who was already on her feet, looking agitated. "Applejack? Are you sure you should be going out? You still don't look very steady."

Applejack shook out her mane and stepped into the hallway. "I'm just dandy. I have to go see Orange Counter."

"Orange Counter? He'll be at work, dear. Come, now, stay and have breakfast with your aunt and me, at the very least." He stood out of her way nonetheless, letting her go as she would.

"This is real important. I reckon he'll make time for me. I'm real sorry I can't stay for breakfast, but I... I gotta go." With that, she almost galloped out the door, not even stopping to close it behind her.

Orange Counter passed some papers over to the pegasus sitting in front of his desk. "Here are the details of the loan we're offering, Miss Sky. Now, of course I don't want to pressure you at all, but the property market is favourable towards buyers at the moment, especially in the field of cloud estates, and so I would advise you to settle with your agent sooner rather than later, before the market shifts again."

He cut off as the sound of a familiar gait approached his desk, and looked up in surprise. "Applejack! It's lovely to see you, but... what are you doing here? I don't finish until six tonight..."

Applejack shuffled her hooves anxiously, fixing Orange Counter with an intent gaze. "I'm sorry to bother you at work, sugar cube, but I really need to talk to you."

Orange Counter looked from Applejack to the pegasus sitting opposite him, then back to Applejack. "I'm actually really in the middle of something, honey, so maybe we could meet up tonight?"

Applejack edged away from the pegasus mare, giving her an apologetic grin and shifting her hooves again anxiously. "I think... you're really gonna want to hear what I've got to tell you, Orange Counter, and I don't think you want me to say it in front of all these nice ponies."

Orange Counter nodded solemnly, sensing the rising panic in Applejack's voice. "Alright. I'm very sorry, Miss Sky, but I just need to take care of an urgent personal matter. I'll be with you again very shortly, and somepony will be along with a cup of tea." He stood and gave the pegasus a bow, then led Applejack into the kitchen.

"What's on your mind, darling?" he asked as he closed the door behind them. "What's going... wait, is something wrong at home? Is Uncle sick?"

Applejack shook her head, leaning against the kitchen bench. "No, it ain't nothin' like that. I just... need you to listen to me for a minute. This is real important."

Orange Counter stood very still, watching Applejack carefully. "Alright, I'm listening. What is it?"

Applejack shook out her mane and took a deep breath.

"Orange Counter, I'm pregnant."

"WHAT?" shrieked Apple Bloom.

"Sweetie Belle, what are you saying?" demanded Apple Bloom, rising to her hooves. "Applejack can't be pregnant! She just can't be! It don't make any sense!"

Sweetie Belle swallowed nervously and shrank back in her seat, wondering if she'd let her imagination go too far. "It... might?" she hazarded, her voice trembling. "I mean, we're trying to figure out who your parents are, and..."

"Applejack's not my mother!" cried Apple Bloom, stomping her hooves angrily. "She's my sister, and she loves me, and... and I won't listen to your stupid story anymore! This was a stupid idea! I'm going home!" She galloped out the door, crying, and the others could hear her hooves clattering down the ramp, fading as they trailed off towards the farmhouse.

Scootaloo looked awkwardly at Sweetie Belle and shrugged. "I liked the bit where Applejack kicked that pony off the balcony. That's what I'm gonna do if any colt puts his hooves on me."

Sweetie Belle giggled. "Oh, Scootaloo, you don't know anything about romance, do you? I should lend you some of Rarity's books."

The pegasus filly pouted. "I do too! I read some books when I was helping Spike tidy the library last weekend. Wait 'til you hear my story!"

"Mine ain't quite done yet." Sweetie Belle looked out the window, towards the farmhouse. "If Apple Bloom still wants to listen to it."

Apple Bloom cantered into the kitchen, panting heavily. Applejack was standing by the kitchen table with Big Macintosh, making repairs to a pile of leather harness straps while Granny Smith cooked dinner. Apple Bloom rushed to Applejack's side and laid her head against the older mare's flank. "Applejack!" she cried, clinging to her sister.

"Apple Bloom, what's wrong?" asked Applejack, leaning down to nudge her head against Apple Bloom's neck. "You're shakin' like Bloomberg in applebuck season."

Apple Bloom looked up at her sister, her eyes red from crying. "Applejack, I... I just want you to know that I love you... an' I know you love me, an' I don't care who my mother and father were, 'cause you an' Big Macintosh and Granny Smith are my real family an' that's all that matters."

Applejack's eyes grew wide as she listened to Apple Bloom's frantic exclamations, her ears going back in surprise. "Of course I love you, sugar cube. And so do Granny Smith and Big Macintosh. And we always will. Now why don't you go wash up, dinner'll be ready in a jiffy."

Big Macintosh looked at Applejack as Apple Bloom trotted away. "I reckon it's time we told her, don't you think?"

His sister sighed and shuffled her hooves. "I want to. You know I do, big brother. But I don't want her to find out before she's old enough to understand properly. She could get the wrong idea if we just tell her now."

Big Macintosh swung his head towards Apple Bloom's bedroom. "Worse than if she figures it out by herself? She's a curious filly, is Apple Bloom. Better that we tell her first."

Applejack nodded sadly. "Alright. Soon. I promise."

The next day, after morning classes, Apple Bloom came to find Sweetie Belle, her head hanging penitently. Sweetie Belle was stretched out on one of the schoolyard benches with a novel, watching Scootaloo teach two younger fillies how to play hopscotch.

"Sweetie Belle?" squeaked Apple Bloom, looking remorseful. "I just wanna say I'm sorry for spooking out on you last night. I asked you and Scootaloo for help figurin' out who my ma and pa were, an'... it weren't right of me to get angry when you just did what I wanted."

Sweetie Belle sat up and put her forelegs around Apple Bloom's shoulders. "Oh, Apple Bloom, I'm sorry too," she told her friend. "I was treating this whole thing like a game, or like I was writing my own romance novel. But these are real ponies, and it really matters to you." She let go of Apple Bloom and took a bite of her alfalfa hay sandwich. 'So do you wanna hear the rest of it at lunch, or should we give up on it?"

Apple Bloom smiled and nudged her friend's shoulder. "I wanna hear the rest. If... if Applejack really is my ma, then... well, that's okay. It won't mean she loves me any less. It'll just be... weird, is all. But I reckon it's gonna be weird no matter what, and... Applejack would be just as good a ma as she is a sister. So it's okay."

The classes between recess and lunch seemed to drag on for hours for both Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom, impatient to finish the story. Finally they were free to grab Scootaloo and find a vacant corner of the schoolyard where they could talk in peace.

"Pregnant?" Orange Counter looked shocked, shuffling back on his hooves. "Are you sure?"

"Doctor Crescent says he's sure," confirmed Applejack, her nostrils flaring in agitation. "An' I believe him. I wasn't feeling myself this morning, neither."

The young stallion tossed his head nervously. "And... are you sure that it's..."

"Of course I'm sure it's yours!" interrupted Applejack. "What kind of a filly do you think I am?"

"I'm sorry, I just had to be sure," replied Orange Counter. "So... what are you going to do?"

"I don't know!" Applejack nearly shouted. "I was hopin' you'd have an idea! I'm too young to be having a foal! You think I know what to do? You think I was expectin' this?"

Orange Counter threw up his front hooves helplessly. "I don't know what to do either! You're the first mare I've ever... felt this way about! I don't know what I'm supposed to do!"

Applejack stomped her hooves in frustration. "Fine, then! You go back to work and be useless, and I'll go figure this out myself!" Snorting angrily, she shouldered open the kitchen door and trotted out of the bank.

Her aunt and uncle were still in the sitting room when she returned to their apartment. Uncle Orange greeted her quietly, then retreated into his library while Aunt Orange gestured for Applejack to join her at the table for a cup of tea. Even Hoof was nowhere to be seen, since Aunt Orange was gripping the teapot between her own teeth as she poured Applejack a cup.

"Now, Applejack, dear," began Aunt Orange once they had both taken a sip of tea, "you know I don't want to pry into your personal life, so do forgive me if I am too forward... but has Orange Counter gotten you into... trouble?"

Applejack pushed her teacup away and sighed. "Trouble? Not trouble, really... just... I'm... he... I'm pregnant. With his foal."

Her aunt reached over and placed a front hoof over Applejack's. "I'm sorry, dear, I'll dispense with the euphemisms. Did you manage to speak to him at work?"

Applejack nodded, tears starting to brim at the corners of her eyes. "He doesn't know what to do... I don't know what to do..."

Aunt Orange drew Applejack into a hug and simply held her there, letting her cry. "What can I do?" the young mare sobbed, clutching her aunt tightly. "I don't know how to look after a foal. I'd be a horrible mother. I can barely look after the farm without making a pig's ear of things. How can I do all that and raise a foal too?"

Applejack slowly grew calmer as her aunt held her and groomed her mane, just like her mother did when she was a filly. "Don't sell yourself short, darling," she murmured as Applejack's sobs subsided. "I think you'll be a wonderful mother. I can't remember the last time I was so impressed with a young mare of our acquaintance as I am with you."

Applejack sniffed and looked up at her aunt. "Really? You think I'd be a good mother? Like my mother was to me?"

Aunt Orange nodded. "I do, Applejack dear. I think you'll do fine. If that's what you want to do. You have a few choices open to you. You should talk things over with Orange Counter. I'm sure my husband will be giving him a talk quite similar to this one."

Applejack chuckled at that, and dabbed at her tears with a napkin. "I bet he will. I'm not... angry at him, y'know. I mean, I yelled at him at work, and I probably shouldn't have done that. It ain't his fault any more than it's mine. We just gotta... figure how we're gonna deal with this. Together."

Later that afternoon, Applejack was leafing through a newspaper in her bedroom when there came a knock at the front door. She heard Orange Counter's voice, then the low tones of her uncle in one of his rare serious moods. She put aside her newspaper and did her best to compose herself, sitting up on her bed.

After a short time, Orange Counter knocked at her bedroom door, and entered as she invited him in. He looked subdued and thoughtful, and came to stand next to her bed. "Hey," he greeted her, chewing his lower lip nervously.

"Hey," she replied, smiling up at him. "Sorry I shouted at you today. I wasn't thinkin' straight."

"And I'm sorry I didn't have any answers for you. I should have thought about this possibility back when we first started. But I've done a lot of thinking..."

"You mean my uncle talked at you, right?" she interjected with a slight grin.

"That too," he admitted. "But he didn't say anything I wasn't already thinking. So. Well. What I decided was, well... given what's happened... if it's what you want... I'll..."

Applejack raised her head and glared at him. "Spit it out already, sugar cube. No need to dance around with your fancy words."

Orange Counter nodded, then took a deep breath. "Well, I want you to know that, if you want, I'm prepared to do the honourable thing."

Applejack looked blank. "The honourable thing? And just what is that?"

He tilted his head to one side, smiling nervously. "I mean... that I'll make an honest mare out of you."

Applejack leaned forward, eyes widening. "An honest mare? What do you mean? I ain't honest enough for ya already?"

Orange Counter shook his head. "No, no, that's not what I meant. I mean..." He stopped to take another deep breath. "I mean that I'll marry you."

Applejack sat back against the wall again, looking stunned.

"If that's what you want to do," he continued hurriedly. "Um... say something, please?"

"Marry me?" Applejack repeated, blankly. "You... want to marry me."

"Yes," insisted Orange Counter, his cheeks flushing. "I mean... I want to do what's right. Whatever's best for you, and for our foal. I don't know what that is yet, but if you want to... to stay with me, and we can raise our foal together... then I'll do that."

Applejack shuffled to the edge of the bed and leant her head against Orange Counter's shoulder. "Oh, sweetheart, that's the most noble thing I've ever heard anypony say. I shoulda known better than to doubt you. I know we'll make this right."

Orange Counter turned his head and kissed Applejack's cheek. "So what do you want to do?"

She sighed. "I still don't know yet. Making a family out of the three of us does sound mighty dandy, but I don't reckon I'll fit here in Manehattan any easier just 'cause I've got a foal to take care of, and there's still the farm to think about. Same if you tried livin' in Ponyville. But... maybe. I dunno. I reckon I'd better sleep on it. Come back tomorrow and I might have an answer for ya."

He brushed her mane with one hoof, then nodded. As he walked to the door, Applejack stood up and embraced him again. "I love you," she whispered, holding him tightly.

"I love you too, my darling," replied Orange Counter. "I promise I won't let you down."

Once Orange Counter was gone, Applejack made her way to the kitchen, thinking that spending an hour or two baking might help her calm all of the thoughts buzzing around in her head. Hoof was already there, mixing a carrot and alfalfa sprout salad for supper. He said nothing as Applejack took a bag of flour and a rolling pin to the second bench, going through the soothing motions of preparing a large apple pie.

Once the pie was safely in the hot oven, she turned to the elderly unicorn stallion. "Hoof? Can I ask you something?"

Hoof paused in his preparations to look at her with a sympathetic smile. "Ask away, miss. I'm here to be helpful."

Applejack smiled at the unicorn's unconditional friendliness. "Thanks, it's much appreciated. Hoof, have you ever been married?"

Hoof set his mixing spoon down on the counter, relaxing his magic as he spoke with Applejack. "I was, once, yes."

Applejack drew up a chair and made herself comfortable. "Oh. Did she leave you?"

"She did. But I've no doubt I'll be following her myself in a few years."

"Oh. I... imagine you loved her very much, then."

Hoof smiled wistfully. "I did, and I do. More than I love your uncle and aunt, and that's not easy. We were about your age when we met, and we've loved each other ever since."

Applejack toyed with the oven mitts on her front hooves, her eyes directed to the floor. "You don't regret it, then? Marrying her?"

Hoof shook his head. "I don't, miss. Certainly, there were times when it seemed like we'd be better off apart, but we always got through them, and it was always worth it. But," he continued, fixing Applejack with a speculative look, "plenty of couples aren't so lucky. I've seen couples torn apart by jealousy, stress, money, or simply not being right for each other. It's hard on them and harder on their foals."

Applejack looked up at Hoof at the mention of foals. "Did y'all have foals of your own, Hoof? I mean, they'd be adults now, of course..."

"We did. A colt and a filly. Our colt works as Dame Silverhooves's butler, following in his father's hoof prints. Our filly's an opera singer. Three grandchildren now, one of them will likely take over from me here one day." He sighed deeply. "They all make me so proud."

"I'm sure they do, Hoof," Applejack agreed. "Can you tell me... what's it like being a parent? Is it hard?"

"The hardest thing I've ever done, miss. And the scariest. But the most rewarding, too. Watching my foals grow up, into the finest mare and stallion I could hope them to be, was the most satisfying thing I've ever been part of."

Hoof looked Applejack in the eyes, and spoke quietly but seriously. "You'll be a good mother, miss. Don't be afraid that you won't."

After dinner, Hoof took the plates into the kitchen while Applejack sat at the table with her uncle and aunt. Her aunt smiled at her over a cup of tea while her uncle spoke. "Have you thought any more about your options, dear?"

Applejack pursed her lips, but nodded. "I have... but they all seem pretty lousy. I can try to raise my foal myself in Ponyville... while running the farm, and finding the money from Celestia knows where. I could let Orange Counter raise it... but he's got even less time to spare than I do. We could get married and do it together... but where? And how long would we last together?"

Uncle Orange nodded slowly. "I'll admit that they aren't great options, any of them. There is another possibility, though. You could let another family adopt your foal, to raise themselves."

Applejack tilted her head to one side, considering this. "Hmm... maybe," she pondered. "I'd hate to not be there to see my foal growin' up, but... if that's what was best for him or her, then maybe it'd be best. Who'd do that, though? Who'd be willin' to raise a foal that's not their own?"

Uncle Orange said nothing, but reached across the table to link his front hoof with his wife's.

Applejack blinked. "You... you'd do that? Take my foal and raise it as yer own kin? Give it a good life here in Manehattan?"

Her aunt nodded, smiling sadly. "I'll never have a foal of my own, Applejack. We've tried, for so long... and whatever the reason we couldn't then, I'm too old now. If we had a foal... from anypony... we'd raise him or her the best we could. We don't have to work, we could give it all the time it needs. And we are kin, to you and to Orange Counter. It would... be a great honour if you trusted us with your foal." She squeezed her husband's hoof as she spoke, blinking rapidly.

Applejack was taken aback, and it was several moments before she could speak. "That's... mighty generous of y'all. I don't know what to say. I'll... definitely think about it. I still don't know what to do. I... might. It might be what's best. I... gotta think about it."

Her uncle pressed his hoof against her shoulder. "Do what's right for you and for your foal, dear. Just remember that this is another option you've got."

She nuzzled the hoof gently. "I will. Thank you."

Applejack sat on her bed that night, clutching her stuffed toy dragon and gazing out the window at the moon and stars. "What am I gonna do?" she asked the night. "I don't know if I can give this little one the upbringing it'll need all by my lonesome... but how can I give it away? My own kin? My own flesh and blood?"

She shifted awkwardly on her bed, unable to get comfortable. "Orange Counter would do his best, but he's barely more than a colt himself, and he's got his bank career to think about. Aunt and Uncle... they're rich, they could give it a better life than I ever could. Just... without its ma."

She pulled the blankets up under her chin and closed her eyes, her thoughts chasing each other around her head until she finally drifted off to sleep.

"Cock-a-doodle-doo!"

Applejack jolted awake as the sound of a rooster crowing cut through her dreams. Was she back at Sweet Apple Acres already? She tumbled out of bed and rushed to her window, where the first rays of dawn were just flooding into her bedroom.

She was still in Manehattan, but she had definitely heard a real, live rooster waking her up. She poked her head out of her window and saw a large, proud-looking rooster on the balcony of the Oranges' master bedroom, perched on the railing.

Applejack stared at the bird in wonder, then turned her gaze towards Ponyville and Sweet Apple Acres, where she had seen the rainbow guiding her home, years ago. Home. That was what she learnt the last time she came to Manehattan, that Sweet Apple Acres was her home, the place where she belonged, and always would belong.

She thought about her brother, who would be hauling diseased trees out of the ground to be burned now. She thought about her grandmother, still doing her part around the farm despite her advanced years, and lending her wisdom to Applejack and her brother, keeping them working and living the way her parents taught them.

She thought about her parents. The way they had raised her to be resourceful and strong, honest and industrious. The way her mother had always had time for her, no matter how hard she was working. The way her father would take her out to watch him buck apples and pull the plough, teaching her everything he knew.

She remembered the family they had together, the five of them, before death had reduced that number to three. She thought about the family she still had, and how they would stand by her no matter what. How there was no better family in all of Equestria.

As it had the day she saw the rainbow, everything became clear.

She met Orange Counter in the hallway, surprised that he was even awake at this hour, let alone already here. She smiled at him, then noticed the telltale scratches of a rooster's claws on his neck and back. "Orange Counter, did you..."

He grinned, then yawned loudly. "You wouldn't believe how far I had to walk to find somepony who even knew what a rooster was, let alone would lend me one. Mother told me how you missed waking up to your rooster last time you were here, so I thought..."

Applejack threw herself at the young stallion and wrapped her front legs around his shoulders. "You stupid mule. You did all that for me? Consarn it, why'd you have to be so sweet?" She kissed his cheek and neck as she hugged him tightly, laughing.

"Because you're worth it," he replied, nuzzling against her. "These weeks with you have been the happiest of my life. I'll always remember you, no matter what you decide you want to do. Speaking of which..."

Applejack nodded. "I've made my decision. Are my aunt and uncle awake?"

Orange Counter nodded and led her into the dining room, where her aunt and uncle were waiting for her, along with a large plate of pancakes. The four of them spent some time in idle chatter over their morning meal before Applejack took a deep breath and began to relate her decision.

"First, I wanna thank y'all for the offers you've made. It's good to know that I've got so many choices in this matter, 'cause it ain't easy. I reckon it's the toughest decision I've ever had to make.

"Family's the most important thing in my life, even more important than growin' apples. I loved my ma and pa more than I know how to say, and I wouldn't be the pony I am today if I hadn't grown up with them. And that's why I can't imagine not being around to be a mother to my own foal, to be the best parent I can be, like my parents were for me.

"So... I'm gonna go home and raise my foal myself, in Ponyville. I'll have Granny Smith and Big Macintosh to help me, so I don't reckon it'll be as hard as it might've been. He or she is gonna grow up knowing what it means to be an Apple, and will get all the love that an Apple needs.

"Aunt, uncle... I'm real grateful for your offer, and I'm sorry you won't get the foal you wanted, at least not from me. You've been like parents to me the whole time I've been here, and I really wanna see you both happy."

Uncle Orange leant his hoof against Applejack's shoulder. "We are happy, dear. We've had you here for longer than we deserve. We always hoped you'd come back again after your first visit, and now you have, and it's meant more than you can imagine to have somepony like a daughter to us, even for a little while. You'll both come and visit some day, won't you?"

"Of course we will. And Orange Counter... I love you. I never knew I could feel this way about a stallion before I met you. You make me feel beautiful, and valued, and loved. But I..." She lowered her head and sighed deeply. "But I can't marry you. I can't leave Ponyville for you, and I can't ask you to leave Manehattan for me. Even though I know you would if I asked. You're brilliant working for the bank, and you're gonna do great things here. I can't take you away from that, and I don't want our foal growing up knowing that you gave that up on his or her account."

Orange Counter nodded solemnly. "I think you're right, Applejack. There's just no way we could make it work, but I had to give you that choice. So I'll do the other honourable thing instead. Raising a foal isn't cheap – food, horseshoes, medicine, education... I get a lot of struggling families coming to see us, and I want to make sure you never have to struggle to pay for everything our foal needs."

Applejack chewed her lip awkwardly. "Oh, now, I couldn't let you... I can't stop you, can I?" The young stallion shook his head. "I shouldn't try. I can't say I wasn't worried about how we were gonna make ends meet with another mouth to feed, so... thank you. You've been so noble through this whole thing, even when I've shouted at you... how can I thank you enough?"

Orange Counter leant over to kiss Applejack's cheek. "Just be a good mother for our foal. And make sure it knows it's got a father, who wants to be part of its life too, one day."

Applejack left Manehattan the next day, a much different pony from the one who had arrived months earlier, seeking nothing more than a bank loan. She had found love and left it behind her, and learned about being a daughter, a lover and a mother.

She arrived back at Sweet Apple Acres in the early evening, when her brother and grandmother were sitting down to dinner. "Evenin', y'all," she greeted them, as if she'd only been making a day trip to Ponyville. "Got good news from the bank – they're lendin' us all we need to get things running again around here. I, ah, also got some other news."

Big Macintosh sat and listened to her story while Granny Smith laid out a third setting for dinner, reminding Applejack of just how much she missed her family's cooking. Granny Smith shook her head when Applejack finished. "Oh, you silly pony," she chided her lightly. "Didn't your mother warm you about these smooth Manehattan colts?"

Big Macintosh nudged Applejack's shoulder. "Don't you worry, little sis. We'll all bring your foal up to be a proper Apple. We'll always look after our kin."

Applejack sighed and relaxed, breathing in the cool, fresh air of home. She knew she had made the right choice.

"And then Applejack gave birth to a filly, and decided to name her after Orange Counter's mother, Orange Bloom. And that's how we got Apple Bloom, our best friend."

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo were huddled against one another, both crying softly. "That's so sad!" exclaimed Apple Bloom. "Poor Applejack, having to leave my pa in Manehattan when she loved him so much!"

Scootaloo looked up and realised that the story was over, and hastily drew herself upright. "Oh, you're done? Um... yeah, nice story, Sweetie Belle, but did you have to make it so sappy? Hang on, I think I've got something in my eye..."

Sweetie Belle cantered forward and hugged them both before Scootaloo could escape. "Don't be such a silly filly, Scoot. So what do you think, Apple Bloom? Think I might be right?"

Apple Bloom nodded thoughtfully. "The facts all fit. And Applejack always said that my mother loved me very much... I guess the only way she could say that for sure is if she is my mother. I... I reckon I couldn't ask for a better ma than Applejack herself."

Scootaloo hugged her friends, then extricated herself from their limbs. "Well, my story's gonna be much more exciting! But we'd better get to class. I'll tell you my idea after school!"

Author's Note:

Scootaloo's story will begin next chapter! For those who are interested, I've rather shamelessly stolen the personalities of the Oranges (and Hoof) from Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility and Northanger Abbey. Also, since this might be a point of contention, Applejack's "aunt and uncle" are something like her third or fourth cousins, and Orange Counter is her fifth cousin twice removed or so. They may seem closer, but that's only because the Apple and Orange families are very tightly knit, and treat even distant relatives as cherished family.

Update: I don't know what to say! Somepony has drawn art inspired by this chapter! This is a drawing of Applejack as she tries to make her decision of what to do with her foal. I can't thank the artist enough for this!

Scootaloo's Story

Author's Note: At the end of Sweetie Belle's story, I explained that her story drew heavily on the works of Jane Austen for inspiration. In a similar vein, Scootaloo's story is inspired by the works of the Brontë sisters, particularly The Tenant of Wildfell Hall and Wuthering Heights. As such, it contains themes and discussions of domestic violence. While there is no actual depiction of such violence, I would like to advise caution for those readers for whom this is a sensitive topic.

Scootaloo rode straight to the Crusaders' clubhouse when they arrived at Sweet Apple Acres, while Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle stopped at the farmhouse to pick up supplies. Applejack was always happy to have Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo around to play with Apple Bloom, as it had broken her heart to see how isolated Apple Bloom had been until she formed the Crusaders. Rarity sometimes tried to slip Applejack a few bits for all the food Sweetie Belle ate, but Applejack would have none of it.

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle trotted happily up to the clubhouse, their saddlebags laden with apples and oat cakes. The late spring sun was still shining brightly in the western sky, so it was a great surprise to the two fillies that the interior of the clubhouse was as dark as twilight. The curtains were drawn to keep out the sun, and a single oil lamp on the table illuminated a black-cloaked and -hooded figure sitting in the armchair. As the two Crusaders edged warily into the clubhouse, the figure pushed back her hood to reveal a scowling Scootaloo, her orange coat gleaming eerily in the lamplight.

"Are you prepared for a tale of woe?" asked the pegasus filly, pitching her voice unusually low. The other two fillies sat back on their haunches, unsure of what to make of Scootaloo's dramatic introduction. "A tale of love and loss, toil and terror, blood and vengeance, life and death?"

Sweetie Belle nodded eagerly, while Apple Bloom looked sceptical. "Blood and vengeance, life and death? In Ponyville? Scootaloo, Twilight's been lettin' you read too many scary books."

Scootaloo pouted. "Do you want to hear my story or not? I found some old records in Applejack's office that I think are a clue about your mother." She drew a few sheets of paper out and laid them on the table. "The year of the blight, Big Macintosh hired a lot of ponies to clear the diseased trees out of the orchard, but there's one worker who stuck around a lot longer than the others, called Chalk Cliff. I think she might be your mother, Apple Bloom!"

Apple Bloom leaned forward intently, fixing Scootaloo with her full attention. "Okay, I'm all ears! Let's hear it!"

Big Macintosh and Granny Smith stood together and watched Applejack disappear down the road towards Manehattan, then sadly turned back to the gloomy halls of Sweet Apple Acres. The expanse of fields surrounding the farmhouse suddenly seemed silent and lifeless without Applejack's cheerful presence.

"Well, no time to waste moping, grandson. You'd best get to recruiting the ponies we're gonna need to get these trees cleared." Granny Smith's voice cut through Big Macintosh's reverie, bringing him back to the reality of their situation.

"Eeyup," muttered Big Macintosh, turning to survey the fields. He and two other ponies would have been able to clear the infected trees in only a couple of months, but the work needed to be done sooner than that, both to clear the land for fresh seedlings and to prevent the blight from spreading. If he could hire a dozen solid ponies, they could have the work done in just a fortnight.

The problem was, that meant he'd have to go to Ponyville to advertise the work. Big Macintosh was hardly fond of the crowds and noise of Ponyville, and much preferred the company of his family and the quiet of the farm. He spared a thought of sympathy for Applejack, on her way to the noisiest city in all Equestria. His sister had always been much better with crowds than he was, though.

Big Macintosh trudged back to the farmhouse and wrote out an advertisement for two weeks of work, instructing applicants to come to the farm to see if they were suited to the job. Ponyville was mostly inhabited by earth ponies, so he didn't expect he'd have trouble finding ponies for the work. Slipping the advertisement into his saddlebags, he set out for Ponyville at about noon, giving the apple trees another wistful look as he walked out of the farm and into town.

Ponyville was bustling when Big Macintosh reached the town square, with ponies rushing about on their daily business or meeting each other to socialise. The market was as lively as ever, and not for the first time, Big Macintosh was thankful that Applejack handled selling apples in the market. Big Macintosh knew he had a powerful voice, but he found it difficult to raise his voice about a low mumble when around strangers, just as he was reluctant to use his great strength outside the farm.

He walked up to the notice board on the edge of the town square and nailed his advertisement to the board with a few swift blows of a front hoof. He muttered to himself as he stepped away from the board. "Now all I have to do is hope that enough good, hard-working earth ponies see that and want the work."

"I'm an earth pony, and I work hard! Hi, Big Macintosh! What'cha got there?"

Big Macintosh jumped almost a foot in the air as a pony spoke to him right beside his ear. He twisted his neck around as he landed, turning to look at the pink mare who had spoken. "Oh, it's you, Miss Pinkie Pie," he murmured, afraid to raise his voice. "I, uh... I was just puttin' it out that there's some work to be done on the farm and we're looking to hire a few ponies for a little while."

"You want earth ponies with nothing better to do?" asked Pinkie Pie, hopping around to squint at the advertisement. "That's easy! Let me go round up some ponies! Don't go anywhere!" With that, she dashed off into the streets of Ponyville, leaving Big Macintosh a little dazed. He knew that his little sister was quite fond of Pinkie Pie and her parties, but the way she had described them sounded far too crowded for his tastes. He sidled off to one side of the notice board and waited for Pinkie Pie to return, trying to avoid making eye contact with passers-by.

After only a few minutes, Pinkie had returned, leading a group of five sturdy-looking earth ponies, three stallions and two mares. They all had the look of farmers or labourers about them, and Big Macintosh vaguely recognised a couple of them from the other farms around Ponyville.

"I'm back!" exclaimed Pinkie unnecessarily, and gestured to the ponies behind her. "This is Timber, and Haystack, and Hazel, and Oak-hoof and Digger," she said, pointing to each one in turn. "Timber and Haystack are from the clover farm up north, and the others are from all over the place. They were all here for the big agricultural fair last week, and they liked Ponyville so much that they decided to stick around for a while!"

Big Macintosh took a step back and looked the ponies up and down. "Well, y'all look like you can handle the work. I guess you'll... uh... follow me to Sweet Apple Acres and we can talk pay and then get started." He peered back at Pinkie Pie. "There was a fair last week?"

"Well, duh!" answered Pinkie Pie, prancing from side to side. "Only the biggest party for all the farming ponies from miles around! You know, Big Macintosh, you should really get out more. Okay, I gotta run, I think my oven is on fire!" The pink pony dashed away in a blur, leaving Big Macintosh uncomfortably at the centre of attention of his new workers.

Big Macintosh opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The other ponies looked at him expectantly. Finally, he simply nodded his head and started walking back to Sweet Apple Acres, trying to avoid looking at the ponies following him.

Big Macintosh strained at the ropes attached to his work harness, feeling the weight of the diseased apple tree on the other end. He shifted his hooves forward an inch at a time as the tree's roots popped out of the ground one by one, finally giving way in a tremendous shower of dirt. He dragged the fallen tree over to the pile with the others, where Haystack released it from his ropes.

Turning to start on the next tree, he saw Granny Smith waving a hoof to him. He weaved through the other ponies working in this field and trotted over to her. She scowled at him and pointed up towards the road to Ponyville.

"There's another pony up there who wants to work, unless I miss my guess," she admonished him. He looked where she was pointing, and could make out the shape of a large white pony lingering at the Sweet Apple Acres sign. "I had to go and greet the last four new ponies myself, and ain't you supposed to be runnin' the farm while yer sister's away?"

"Me do the hirin'?" Big Macintosh rumbled, chewing his lip. "But Ma always..."

"Your ma ain't here no more," Granny Smith interrupted him bluntly. "I'm too old to be runnin' around after workers, so until Applejack gets back, you're the face and the voice of this family. Now go on. Git up there. Be frien'ly. Smile! Or else!"

"Yes, Granny," mumbled Big Macintosh as he plodded up the slope to the farm entrance. As he approached the sign, he could see that the pony was a mare, with a dusty white coat and bright red mane. She was almost as tall as Big Macintosh himself, similarly muscled, and perhaps five years his senior. Following Granny's instructions, he gave the mare a polite smile, dipping his head to her.

"Afternoon, miss," he greeted her. "Would you be here about the tree-clearin' job?"

The mare took a step backwards as Big Macintosh approached her, but smiled back at him. "Hello. Yes, I am. I've just arrived in Ponyville and I'm looking for work. Are you Big Macintosh?"

The stallion nodded, and turned to walk back down the slope towards the fields. "That I am, miss. The trees are down here, and we need to get all the diseased ones out of the fields before we can start replantin'. So," he continued, doing his best to be friendly. "What's your name? Where are you from?"

The white mare trotted faster to keep up with Big Macintosh. "My name's Chalk. Just Chalk," she insisted in response to Big Macintosh's questioning look. "I'm from... well... from Hoofington! I worked there as a rock farmer, so hauling old trees should be no problem."

There are six Hoofingtons in Equestria, and that's just the ones I know where to find, thought Big Macintosh. What's she trying to hide? No business of mine, I suppose.

"Well, Miss Chalk, welcome to Sweet Apple Acres. I reckon there's about two weeks' of work to do here. The pay's not great, but we'll feed y'all as best we're able, and nopony puts out a spread like Granny Smith does."

Chalk looked relieved not to be answering any more questions, and looked down at the trees, sizing them up. "That sounds like a good deal to me. Although... as I said, I've only just arrived in Ponyville. By any chance, might I exchange some of my pay for a place to sleep? I don't need much, just somewhere out of the wind and rain."

Big Macintosh looked down at the fields, then back to Chalk. "If the barn's good enough for you, I won't charge you nothin' to sleep there. There's plenty of hay, and the roof don't leak, so I reckon it'll do you alright."

Chalk nodded gratefully. "Thank you very much, Mister Macintosh. I will start work immediately." Big Macintosh bowed his head to her and returned to his tree-felling. Once he had turned away, Chalk raised her right foreleg and coughed delicately into her fetlock, then trotted down the slope to join the team breaking the trees into wood for burning.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Big Macintosh gave the workers their wages for the day, and let them go on their way. In the sky, he could see a team of pegasi dragging storm clouds over Ponyville and the surrounding farms – he had forgotten that there was a storm scheduled for that night. He made a quick trot for the farmhouse, ducking under the front porch just as the first drops of rain started to fall. Strong winds began to whistle through the cold granite arches of the farmhouse as he slammed the door closed against the elements.

Granny Smith had lit a fire in the hearth of the chilly sitting room, but the sound of wind and rain lashing against the shutters put a chill in Big Macintosh's bones that no fire could drive out. He started reviewing the farm's accounts at his desk near the hearth while his grandmother prepared the evening meal.

"I see that new white mare got on alright," commented Granny Smith as she brought a bowl of carrot and leek stew over to Big Macintosh. "Did you make her feel welcome, like I said?"

Big Macintosh lowered his muzzle to the bowl and took a long slurp of stew. "Eeyup. Even asked her her name and everythin'. She's a rock farmer from Hoofington, or at least so she says. She's new in town, so I'm lettin' her stay in the barn while she's workin' here."

Granny Smith turned from the stove in the kitchen, the serving ladle still wrapped around her fetlock. "Big Macintosh. Do you mean to tell me that that young mare is shiverin' away in that leaky old barn, with nothing but a pile of hay to keep her warm, while you're all cozy next to our fireplace, with your nose in a hot meal?"

Big Macintosh bowed his head, ashamed. "Sorry, Granny."

Granny Smith waved her ladle threateningly. "I ain't interested in 'sorry', grandson. I thought my colt raised his foals better than that. Now you go and bring that mare back here while I go set up Applejack's room for her."

"But Granny, it's half a mile to the barn, and then the same back, in this rain... sorry, Granny. Leavin' now, Granny."

Chalk huddled in the midst of a pile of hay in the barn, shivering. Her shaggy coat trapped enough body heat to keep out the worst of the chill, but the night was very cold, and the strong winds blew cold, moist draughts through the cracks in the walls. She wanted to sleep, but the howling of the wind kept her awake, as did the cough that only intensified with the cold and damp. Still, it was better than what she had left behind.

Suddenly, there came a pounding at the barn door. Chalk immediately shrank away from the door, then cautiously trotted closer. "Who is it?" she called fearfully.

"It's Big Macintosh!" came the reply, shouted over the deafening winds. "Can I come in?"

Chalk drew back the bolt fastening the barn door and hauled the door open, letting in a blast of wind along with the massive stallion. Big Macintosh was wearing a huge oilskin cloak, and a second one hung from his neck, along with a shuttered oil lantern. "Evenin, Miss Chalk. Were you expectin' somepony else?"

Chalk shook her head as she drove the door closed with her shoulder. "No... nopony at all."

Big Macintosh set the lantern down on a barrel and unwrapped the second cloak from his neck. "Granny says... that is, I figured that... I mean..." He shook his head and started again. "It's too cold for anypony to sleep all the way out here. If'n you... we've got some room in the farmhouse. Granny would be much obliged if you'd sleep there tonight."

Chalk looked from Big Macintosh to the oilskin cloak on the floor. "You'd do that, Mister Macintosh? Even though you and your family barely know me?"

"Well, sure we would. That's just Apple hospitality. It don't take much to be treated like family around here. I should never have put you up in this barn when there's plenty of room in the house, anyway. That ain't the Apple way. You ready to head on over there?"

Chalk had draped the cloak around her body and fastened the hood around her head. She nodded and started to draw the door open again. "Thank you, Mister Macintosh. You and your family are very generous."

Big Macintosh muttered something about her saving her thanks for Granny Smith instead of him, and then they were both galloping across the desolate, windswept moors separating the barn from the farmhouse, trying to make it to the safety of the house before the driving rain soaked them to the skin.

Scootaloo grinned excitedly at her friends as she finished her description of Big Macintosh and Chalk reaching the farmhouse and being treated to Granny Smith's tender hospitality. "So, what do you think so far?" she asked them, her dramatic gothic demeanour forgotten in her excitement over the story.

Sweetie Belle was leaning forward eagerly, clearly engrossed in Scootaloo's tale, but she pursed her lips at the question. "Scootaloo, you know the farmhouse is made of wood, right? Not granite? And the barn is about a hundred yards from the farmhouse. We were there, like, half an hour ago! I know you want your story to be scary, but Sweet Apple Acres is probably the least scary place in Equestria!"

Scootaloo twiddled her front hooves awkwardly. "Yeah, well... it's called dramatic licence! That means it's okay to make things up as long as it makes the story better."

The young unicorn shrugged and grinned. "I guess I used plenty of that myself. What did you think, Apple Bloom?"

Apple Bloom had been deep in thought while her friends argued. "I think Big Macintosh ain't as friendly in your story as he really is. He works hard and he don't talk much, but he don't mind goin' into Ponyville and spendin' time with ponies."

Scootaloo nodded. "I'm doing that on purpose. I think he might have been different when he was younger."

"Yeah, I guess he could have been." Apple Bloom nodded in agreement, then sat deep in thought for several moments longer.

"Do you think Big Macintosh is my father?" she asked finally.

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo exchanged a glance. "Well... everypony kinda assumed he was your father the first time he met you at school," explained Sweetie Belle. Scootaloo nodded in agreement.

"Yeah. An'... when I hear ponies talk about their fathers at school, that's just like how I talk about Big Macintosh. He might as well be my pa. I like this Chalk mare, though, if she's supposed to be my ma. Why couldn't she stay around, though? Did she have to leave?"

Scootaloo looked momentarily guilty, staring at her hooves. "Well, um... you'll have to wait for that part of the story."

"Get on with it, then!" exclaimed Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle in unison.

Chalk

Big Macintosh was awake at dawn the next morning, as always, but Granny Smith and Chalk were already gossiping in the kitchen when he came out for breakfast. He caught the scent of hot porridge in the pot and corn fritters on the griddle, and raised his muzzle interestedly. "Mighty fine breakfast you're puttin' on, Granny. Special occasion?"

Granny Smith gestured to the dinner table, and Big Macintosh and Chalk took their seats. "Special occasion, grandson? Maybe ya'll didn't notice, but we've got a guest! Chalk here need fattenin' up, she's just a sack of bones!"

Big Macintosh looked at the white earth pony sitting opposite him, whom he had seen uprooting large trees by herself the previous day. "You look fine to me, Miss Chalk, if'n you don't mind my sayin'." Now that he looked more closely, though, her coat looked loose on her body, as if she used to have a lot more fat over her muscles than she did now. She looked as though she hadn't eaten properly for some time.

"You said you only got into Ponyville yesterday, Miss Chalk," continued Big Macintosh as Granny Smith brought three bowls of hot porridge to the table. "Have you been travelling for long?"

Chalk nodded as she lowered her muzzle to the bowl of porridge, devouring it eagerly. She licked her lips clean before answering the stallion. "About three months, Mister Macintosh. I made some bits at the carrot farms near Fillydelphia, but there wasn't enough work there for me to stay long. I imagine I'll stay in Ponyville for as long as there's work, and then move south again. I've had enough of rock farming for quite a while, I think."

Big Macintosh raised his head from his bowl at that last statement. "But ain't rock farming your special talent?" he asked, nodding towards Chalk's flank. Against the dusty white of her coat, there sat an image of a light grey boulder, split into two jagged halves.

Chalk smiled ruefully. "So it is. Perhaps I should say that I've had enough of rock farmers, then."

"Is that why you left... Hoofington, then, miss?" Big Macintosh asked, but was interrupted by Granny Smith placing a tray of corn fritters on the table.

"You leave off with your questions now, grandson, and let the young mare eat. I figure you've both got a long day of work ahead of y'all, so you'd best eat up while you can."

Big Macintosh nodded and turned his attention back to breakfast. He had to admit, it was nice to have some company over breakfast. He and Applejack really only ever talked about the day's work. And Chalk did have quite a pleasant voice, and a way of speaking that was at once cultured and down-to-earth. Perhaps having her live in the house was a fine idea after all.

After breakfast, Granny Smith set about her household tasks, while Big Macintosh and Chalk walked down to the blighted fields for another day of tree extraction. The previous day's storm had blown itself out overnight, leaving the trees and the grass shining in the morning sunlight. "This really is very beautiful country," murmured Chalk as they walked together. "My old home has its own beauty, but it's very... stark compared to all this greenery. And Ponyville itself is gorgeous. If I hadn't been on the road for so long, I would have stopped at the Carousel Boutique. It's unusual for such a small town to have its own fashion boutique."

Big Macintosh blinked. "Ponyville has a fashion boutique now?" he rumbled, raising his head to look in the direction of the town.

Chalk turned to Big Macintosh and smiled, her bright red mane rippling in the breeze. "Why, yes! I'm hoping to spend a couple of days seeing the sights of Ponyville after the work here is done. Perhaps you'd accompany me? Having a familiar face around would be most appreciated."

The red stallion looked taken aback, staring at his hooves as he walked. "Me? Well, I... I suppose I could. I don't reckon I could show you much, is all. I mostly just help Applejack carry things to and from the market, and pick up supplies from the store."

"Well, you have a beautiful town, Mister Macintosh," said Chalk with a grin, picking up her step. "You should experience more of it."

The morning of tree clearing proceeded as the previous ones had. The ponies with the greatest raw strength pulled the trees out of the ground, roots and all, and the ponies with greater stamina hauled the trees across the ground to the pile where they were to be burned. It grated at Big Macintosh to let so much wood burn without being used as furniture or even cooking fuel, but if they didn't burn every stick of every infected tree, there was the chance that the blight could spread and destroy next year's crop as well.

Just after midday, Big Macintosh was straining at a tree which simply refused to come out of the ground, no matter how hard he pulled. He sweated and grunted as he dug his hooves into the soil, and was finally rewarded, not with the sound of roots popping out of the ground, but of the roots actually snapping. He hastily stepped back, not wanting to break the tree off and leave its roots stuck in the ground, which would mean an afternoon of back-breaking labour with shovel and crowbar to extract. He stepped up to the tree and pawed at the dirt around its roots with a front hoof, inspecting the problem.

As he investigated, a few of the other workers crowded around, to see what kind of tree could be giving the sturdy Big Macintosh trouble. "Well, there's yer trouble," Digger pointed out after he and Big Macintosh had cleared away the dirt around the roots. "That tree's gone and wrapped itself around that boulder there." Indeed, the tree's roots were tangled around a large grey rock embedded in the ground, and some roots had even grown into cracks in the rock.

Big Macintosh sighed heavily. "It'll take all day to dig that out. Well, somepony better go get the shovels. Digger, you and I can..."

"Perhaps I could help?" offered Chalk as she stepped up to the tree, her light voice cutting through the rumblings of the gathered stallions. "You say there's a rock giving you difficulties?"

Big Macintosh nodded, stepping aside to show the problem to Chalk. "It's too big to get out of the ground easily. Maybe y'all know a good way to get it out of there without too much..."

As Big Macintosh was speaking, Chalk stepped up to the rock and reared up high on her hind legs, whinnying softly. Then, with a loud snort, she brought her forelegs down on the boulder, with such force that Big Macintosh expected to hear her fetlocks snapping from the impact. Instead, a pair of cracks ran through the rock from her hooves, and the boulder fell apart into several smaller pieces.

"... hassle," finished Big Macintosh, his jaw hanging open. "How the hay did you do that? Uh, pardon mah language, miss."

Chalk climbed out of the hole and stamped her hooves, shaking loose a piece of rock stuck in one. She smiled at Big Macintosh's disbelieving expression. "Just an old rock farming trick. It runs in the family. Shall we?" she inquired, nodding her head towards the tree.

Big Macintosh shook himself and stretched out his ropes again, easily pulling the tree from the ground with its roots intact. He breathed a sigh of relief as the trunk crashed to the ground. "Well, however you did it, I'm much obliged to you, Miss Chalk. You done saved us a whole day's work. It's much appreciated."

Chalk looked taken aback, then smiled at Big Macintosh. "Thank you, Mister Macintosh. It's very nice to feel appreciated again."

The next two weeks passed as anypony would expect. The work of clearing the fields was long and back-breaking, but Granny Smith's cooking took the edge off everypony's exhaustion. Evenings at the farmhouse passed more pleasantly now that Big Macintosh had somepony to talk to over dinner. They spoke of work, Ponyville, the Apple family. Soon, Chalk felt as though she knew Applejack without ever having met her, and was trading stories of life on the farm with tales from her own rock farming work. She had very little else to say about her family or her hometown, but Big Macintosh decided not to pry.

Finally, the last tree was extracted, and the final bonfire was built to burn away the last of the blight. The workers gathered around the fire, watching sparks crackle up into the evening sky and trading jokes and congratulations with each other. Chalk sat down on her haunches next to Big Macintosh, giving the huge stallion a smile. "This is good work we've done here, Mister Macintosh. Thank you for letting me be a part of it."

"Well, shoot," replied Big Macintosh, giving the mare a nod. "You've been right helpful all this time. Would have taken another two days without you around, I reckon." He accepted a pair of skewers full of marshmallows from Pinkie Pie and passed one to Chalk, then neighed in surprise. "Miss Pinkie Pie, when did you get here?"

"Just now!" exclaimed the young pink mare, grinning and passing bottles of ginger ale to the gathered workers. "I could tell you were having a bonfire party down here, so I figured, what's a bonfire party without marshmallows and ginger ale and apple fritters and apple pie and baked apples on a stick? So I helped Granny Smith in the kitchen all day today, and here she comes now with the food!"

Soon the gathering of farmers and labourers had turned into an impromptu party, all revelling in the satisfaction of a job well done. The locals were talking about their plans for the money they'd earned and what they were going to do when they got back to their own farms, while the out-of-towners discussed where they planned to travel next. Pinkie Pie did her rounds of the revellers, spreading laughter, good cheer and good food. When she came to sit with Chalk and Big Macintosh, she gasped and jumped three feet into the air.

"You! Big white mare! I don't know you! Actually, you look kind of familiar, but I can't figure out where from. You mustn't be from around here at all! And that means you don't know anypony in Ponyville! Except for Big Macintosh, of course, and all the other ponies here. You should come to my party tomorrow! It's to celebrate Sugarcube Corner's new kitchen refurbishments, but really it's just about getting ponies together to have fun! You should come and meet everypony else! And you should come too, Big Macintosh, since you hardly know anypony either even though you've lived here all your life!"

Big Macintosh chewed his lip uncomfortably at having his reclusive lifestyle highlighted so bluntly. "Well, now, I dunno," he rumbled. "I've still got a lot of work to do here, and..."

"We'd love to come, Miss Pinkie!" interrupted Chalk, extending her front hoof to Pinkie Pie and shaking hers eagerly. "I've been looking forward to getting to see Ponyville and meet its lovely residents ever since I arrived."

"Ooh, you're going to come together! That's even better!" giggled Pinkie Pie, bouncing eagerly. "I'll see you both there!" She trotted away again, singing to herself, while Big Macintosh looked bewildered. "What just happened?" he asked Chalk.

The white mare smiled and nudged Big Macintosh's shoulder with her muzzle. "We're going to Miss Pinkie's party tomorrow afternoon. After you show me around Ponyville tomorrow morning. Don't look at me, it was your grandmother's idea. She said you needed to meet more ponies."

Big Macintosh narrowed his eyes and looked across the bonfire at Granny Smith, who grinned back at him innocently. "She did, did she? Well, I guess I'd better, then. Not that I mind, o'course."

The two earth ponies set out for Ponyville at mid-morning, after taking care of the bare minimum of chores that couldn't wait until the next day. Big Macintosh felt an odd sense of lightness as he stepped away from the farm. Now that he thought about it, the last time he had actually left the farm for recreation rather than work had been before Ma and Pa died. Back then, while he had still worked hard, there had always been time for him and Applejack to go to school, and then to spend some time being social with the other young adults of Ponyville. After their parents' deaths, though, Applejack had taken over the management of Sweet Apple Acres, while Big Macintosh had shouldered the bulk of the farm's heavy labour. Thinking about their parents was still too painful, and the solution, as he saw it, was to work harder. He knew his father would have approved.

Today was a day for leisure, though, and Granny Smith had instructed him to relax and enjoy himself. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to manage this task, but Chalk seemed to think it would be quite straightforward. With the large white mare trotting along beside him, he could imagine himself actually enjoying his day off.

They began with a tour of the streets, taking in the colourful wooden buildings of the town, with their delicately carved gables and fences. Chalk chattered on about the architecture and landscape of her home, which seemed to consist of stone buildings and stony moors. At midday they stopped in one of Ponyville's many parks and lay down on the grassy bank of the river, dining on cold apple turnovers Granny Smith had baked for them. As they ate, they watched a family of ducks float downriver, along with a small yellow pegasus mare.

Big Macintosh and Chalk turned their heads to watch the pegasus float past with her waterfowl charges. Every so often, one of the ducklings would founder and flail around in the water, and the pegasus would reach a hoof under the young bird and help it settle in the water once more. The two earth ponies simply sat and watched the rather bizarre procession pass by. "Is this the sort of thing that happens often in Ponyville?" asked Chalk.

"Hmm?" replied Big Macintosh, turning his attention back to his companion. "Oh, that's Miss Fluttershy. She's real good with animals. She comes around to the farm sometimes to help us with the dogs and the pigs. Wait, where are you going?" he asked, as Chalk jumped up and trotted downstream towards the group.

"Hello? Miss Fluttershy?" called Chalk as she caught up to the young pegasus. "I was wondering if..."

Fluttershy squeaked and ducked her head under the water, her pink mane floating on the surface. Big Macintosh trotted up behind Chalk, looking concerned. "Miss Fluttershy's a mite shy around new folk," he explained, peering down at the ducks who were gathering around the pegasus. "I'll calm her down. It's alright, she's like this with everypony." Chalk lowered her head in chagrin, and walked alongside Big Macintosh as they waited for Fluttershy to surface.

A few moments later, Fluttershy's eyes and nose broke the surface of the water, and she took a deep breath, looking around. On seeing Big Macintosh, she drew the rest of her head up and floated to the shore. "You go on ahead, dears," she whispered to the ducklings. "Do what mamma duck says, and I'll be along to help you with your swimming later."

The ducklings quacked softly and paddled off to their waiting mother, and Fluttershy grasped Big Macintosh's outstretched hoof and dragged herself ashore, beating her wings to maintain her balance. Her pink mane clung limply to her neck as she stamped her hooves to shake water out of her coat. "Thank you, Big Macintosh. I'm so sorry I was startled by your friend – I hope I didn't make her feel bad."

"It's... quite all right, Fluttershy," the big stallion mumbled, looking at the ground. "This is Miss Chalk. She... um..." He trailed off, looking nervously from Fluttershy to Chalk.

"It's lovely to meet you, Miss Fluttershy!" beamed the white mare, bowing her head in greeting. "Big Macintosh tells me that you help him with the dogs at Sweet Apple Acres."

"Oh, yes!" replied Fluttershy, her body language becoming more relaxed. "Big Macintosh's dog Tracy had a litter of puppies just last spring, and I helped to find homes for most of them. Is little Winona doing well?"

Big Macintosh chuckled, the conversation about farm animals helping to overcome his own shyness. "Eeyup. She's doin' just fine, but she misses Applejack. She's taken quite a shine to Miss Chalk, though. Applejack says she's going to teach her to herd critters just like her ma when she's older."

Chalk smiled excitedly at the mention of Winona. "She's a lovely puppy. She reminds me of the sheepdogs back at home. I used to love watching the herdsponies round up the sheep when shearing time came around."

Fluttershy gave a tiny squeal of excitement, flapping her wings as she turned to face Chalk. "Oh, you have sheep? I love sheep! There aren't many near Ponyville, though – it's too warm for them, with their big fuzzy coats. I wish I could travel and meet more cute animals, but I couldn't leave my animal friends here for too long."

The three ponies talked about dogs, sheep and other animals over lunch, all of them relaxing and enjoying each other's conversation and company. As mid-afternoon approached, Chalk stood up and looked towards Sugarcube Corner. "Are you coming to Miss Pinkie's party, Fluttershy? I'm told they are the social highlight of Ponyville."

"Oh, of course! I wouldn't miss it for all of Equestria! I'll see you there later, though – I should catch up with the ducklings before they miss me. It was really nice meeting you, Chalk!" With that, she ran along the bank and took to the air, gliding above the river in search of the duck family.

Big Macintosh waved to Fluttershy, then turned back to Chalk, to see her grinning at him smugly. "What?" he asked, a smile growing on his own face. "What are ya'll grinning at?"

Chalk chuckled, nudging Big Macintosh's shoulder with her head. "You, of course. I told you it would be worth spending a day being social in Ponyville, and you can't say you didn't enjoy that talk with Fluttershy. She's an adorable filly, isn't she?"

The red stallion nodded. "Eeyup. Applejack's right fond of her, too, and she's mighty helpful with all the animals on the farm. And you're right, it's been good to get out and spend time with other ponies again. Speakin' of which, we'd best be gettin' to Miss Pinkie's party."

"Hello! Hi there! Glad you could make it! Welcome to Sugarcube Corner!"

The party was just hitting its stride when Big Macintosh and Chalk arrived at Sugarcube Corner. The interior of the shop was decked out with balloons and streamers, and happy ponies were chattering in small groups or prancing across the floor in time with the music from the phonograph in one corner. Pinkie Pie was standing near the door, alternating bites of a large frosted cake with greeting her guests.

"It's lovely to be here, Miss Pinkie. I've heard so much about your parties." She looked around at the crowded shop. "You really do know everypony in Ponyville, don't you?"

"I sure do! That's how I know when there's somepony new in town, like you! Although I'm sure I've seen you before somewhere. Come on, let me introduce you to everypony!"

Chalk allowed Pinkie Pie to lead her all around the party, and dragged Big Macintosh in her wake. At first, the huge stallion kept to the edge of conversations, speaking enough to be polite but letting Chalk do most of the talking. As the afternoon went on, though, he found himself drawn into more and more discussions. He hadn't realised how many friends his little sister had, yet everypony seemed to want to know how Applejack was and where she had gone.

"You sister is quite the figure around Ponyville, Mister Macintosh," commented Chalk when they had a moment to themselves. "I hope I get the chance to meet her before I leave Ponyville."

"I hope so too," Big Macintosh replied. "I think she's gonna be in Manehattan for a while yet, though." He looked around the party, realising that he was actually enjoying himself. "Not that I mind if'n you stick around for a mite longer."

Chalk smiled sweetly and butted her head against Big Macintosh's. "That's very kind of you. I really would like to stay longer, if there's still work for me. I... what are you looking at?"

Big Macintosh's gaze had drifted away from Chalk and to Pinkie Pie, who was trotting along the dance floor in a strange shuffling gait, thrusting her head forward and striking at an imaginary target with her front hooves. Everypony had paused in their conversations to watch the pink filly in her dance, which was unusual even for Pinkie Pie.

Chalk, however, laughed and leapt into the dance alongside Pinkie Pie, her huge stature dwarfing the smaller earth pony. Pinkie grinned and danced with her, laughing. "This is great!" she exclaimed. "I didn't think anypony else knew this dance!"

They shuffled along the dance floor together until the end of the song, then caught their breath as ponies gathered around them to congratulate them on their performance. Chalk was just stepping away to visit the punch bowl when Pinkie called out to her.

"Hey, I know who you are now!"

Chalk's mane and tail stood on end sharply, and she slowly turned around, her eyes wide with trepidation. Pinkie was grinning at her madly, oblivious to her fear.

"I made up that dance when I was a tiny filly, and I taught it to everypony near the Pie family rock farm! You're Mrs Cliff! I sang at your wedding!"

Chalk tilted her head to look at Pinkie Pie, her hooves trembling nervously. "Little Pinkamena Pie? I didn't recognise you all grown up!" The white mare took a step towards Pinkie, grinned, and then galloped out the front door of Sugarcube Corner.

The Cliffs

"Chalk! Wait!"

Big Macintosh galloped through the streets of Ponyville after his large white friend, calling her name. Chalk never paused, thundering along the riverbank, head lowered as she ran. Ponies and animals scattered out of the way of the mare's desperate dash.

The red stallion could feel sweat forming on his flanks as he ran after Chalk. His frame was perfect for long hours hauling weights on the farm, but not for long-distance running. He thought that Chalk was going to escape before he could ask her what was wrong, but when he rounded the corner of the town's windmill, he found her lying on her side by the wall of the building, her chest heaving. He skidded to a halt, kneeling beside her.

"Chalk? What happened? Are you alright?"

Chalk shook her head and pushed her hooves against the ground, trying to stand up. "Have to get away... can't let them find me," she muttered, before slumping to the ground again, coughing.

"Stay there, Chalk," instructed Big Macintosh. "I'll get you some water." He found a bucket by the windmill, filled it from the river, and brought it over to his friend, who quickly dipped her muzzle into the water and slurped loudly. "Now what are you running from?" he asked as she drank.

She raised her head and shook the water from her muzzle, letting Big Macintosh take a drink himself. "If Pinkamena writes back to the Pies about meeting me, they'll tell the Cliffs. And when my husband's family finds out where I am, they'll come and take me back to Cliffside. My husband's dead, they have no right, but they'll do it anyway!"

Big Macintosh pushed the bucket aside, not wanting to drink too much so soon after such a run. "Maybe you'd better start from the beginning. You think you can sit up?"

Chalk nodded and eased herself up into a sitting position, leaning heavily against Big Macintosh's flank. "Well, I'm from Cliffside. Not Hoofington as I told you, I'm sorry. Cliffside is a town up in the northwest, right near the ocean. It's mainly a rock farming town. The Cliffs are the major landowners up there, although my mother's family, the Caves, own a few large farms too."

She stopped for another long draught of water. "I don't even remember why I married my husband. He was handsome, I suppose, and I was young and foalish. And it made sense for our two families to make a union that way. The Cliffs only wanted me for my land, though. And my husband... my husband was not a good pony, Mister Macintosh."

Big Macintosh furrowed his brow sternly, pursing his lips. "He didn't treat you right? Pa was always real clear about how a mare should be treated. Did he shout at you?"

"He hit me, Mister Macintosh."

Big Macintosh was taken aback. He simply stared at Chalk, not comprehending what she was saying.

"You mean you'd butt heads sometimes, like I do with Applejack? Or maybe he'd knock you over with his shoulder if he thought you weren't working hard enough? Pa did that from time to time," he babbled, trying to make what Chalk was telling him fit into the Equestria that he knew.

Chalk shook her head, slowly rising to her feet. "I mean he would beat me with his hooves. Because the harvest was late, or he didn't like the way I spoke to him, or simply for no reason at all. Sometimes I tried to make everything just the way he wanted, but it was never enough."

Big Macintosh shook his head, still trying to find a way to make what Chalk was saying not be true. "You're a mighty strong pony, Chalk, and mighty big..."

"He was bigger and stronger," she replied bitterly. "Sometimes I fought him, and sometimes I won, but it never did any good. When I won, I knew when to stop hitting. He didn't."

The red stallion lowered his head, snorting in agitation. "I'm real sorry, Chalk. I didn't know any stallion was capable of treating a mare that way. Least of all his wife."

Chalk gently butted Big Macintosh's flank with her head. "I don't blame you, Big Macintosh. I don't blame anypony but my husband. And his family. And the mayor for letting it go on for so long. He was in the Cliffs' saddle bags, I just know it. Together, they've got the legal clout to drag me back to Cliffside. I don't know what your mayor is like..."

"She's a good mare. She'd never let something like that happen here in Ponyville. If your husband's family shows up here, they won't be able to take you anywhere. The mayor won't allow it, and... well... I won't, neither." Big Macintosh turned his gaze from Chalk to stare at the ground. "If you want to stay in Ponyville, that is."

Chalk swung her head from Big Macintosh to the road leading out of Ponyville, then back to Big Macintosh. "You'd keep me safe from them? You'd be putting yourself at risk... and the work's done. I couldn't earn my keep if I stayed."

Big Macintosh looked back at Sweet Apple Acres. "I reckon we can find something for you to do, especially while Applejack ain't here. And besides, I..." He trailed off, chewing his lip.

"You what, Big Macintosh?" asked the white mare, leaning forward to listen to the stallion.

"I, uh... I want you to stay. If you'd like. I've kind of... gotten used to seein' you at breakfast. I reckon I'd miss you if'n you left."

Chalk laid her neck against Big Macintosh's, smiling. "I'd miss you too, Big Macintosh. I would love to stay here. Ponyville is the first place I've lived since Cliffside that has really felt like a home."

The two earth ponies stood together for a few moments more, still catching their breath after their run, the scent of each other's sweat filling their nostrils. Finally, Big Macintosh shifted around to look back towards Sugarcube Corner. "I reckon we'd better head on back and tell the nice ponies that everything's okay."

"Mrs Cliff, you're back! Are you okay? When you ran off like that, I thought somepony had put chilli flakes in the cupcakes again!"

Chalk laughed and accepted the milkshake Pinkie Pie had mixed for her as soon as she arrived back at Sugarcube Corner, while the guests kept dancing and chattering around her. "No, no, nothing like that. The cupcakes are delicious. I was just surprised to meet somepony from home."

Pinkie Pie grinned and hopped around Chalk excitedly. "You were surprised? I was surprised too! I haven't met another pony from home – up north home, I mean, not Ponyville home – since I got here! I like it better here, but I sometimes miss the rock farmer types. And my family, of course." Her usually cheerful grin dipped a little as she became more sombre. "Have you seen the Pies lately? How are they doing?"

Chalk gave Pinkie a reassuring nudge of her head. "They're doing fine, Pinkamena, at least the last I saw them. Clyde and Sue were in Cliffside not long before I left, and they seemed happy. They talk about you a lot, you know. Everypony does. You changed everypony's lives. My wedding was the happiest day of my life, because of the way you made everypony smile."

A sad smile formed on Pinkie's face as she remembered her home. "Things were pretty different before I got my cutie mark, yeah. But... you would have been happy, anyway, right? Because you loved Mister Cliff?"

Chalk hung her head, unsure of how to handle such a delicate subject with the innocent pink filly. "These things don't always work the way we expect them to, Pinkamena. And Mister Cliff is dead now. Could I beg a favour of you, though, and ask you not to tell anypony at home that I'm here? Things are... very difficult between me and the Cliffs right now, and I need them to leave me alone for a while."

Pinkie Pie looked at the floor for a moment, downhearted. "I'm sorry it didn't work out for you and Mister Cliff, Chalk. But okay! I promise I won't tell anypony that you're here. Are you going to stay for some cake?"

Chalk shook her head. "I'm just a little shaken up still. I've had such a fun time though, Pinkamena – I'd forgotten how wonderful your parties were! I'll be sure to catch your next one! And I'll bring Big Macintosh too, of course."

Pinkie threw her front legs around Chalk's shoulders and hugged her tightly. "I'm so glad you've had a good time! I just want everypony to be as happy as I am." She bounced over to Big Macintosh and hugged him too, then pressed a napkin-wrapped slice of cake at him. "Here you go. Thank you so much for coming!"

Big Macintosh looked surprised by the hug, but nudged the pink pony gently with his head. "Thank you for inviting us, Miss Pinkie. I don't think I've had this much fun in years. I'll see you at the next one!"

Pinkie Pie watched the two older ponies trek back towards Sweet Apple Acres, waving to them with a deeply satisfied grin on her face.

Life went on in Sweet Apple Acres, as it had since the earliest days of Ponyville. As the late autumn passed into winter, Big Macintosh and Chalk prepared the farm for the upcoming snow. There were still many healthy trees left on the farm, and it would not do for any of them to be scarred by frostbite. Big Macintosh showed Chalk how to wrap the fruit-bearing branches in coarse-woven cloth to keep the worst of the snow from the vulnerable blossom sites. Chalk took in all she could learn with great interest, commenting on how rock farming went on all year round with little heed to the seasons.

On the first day of winter, Chalk and Big Macintosh visited the nearby Whitetail Woods to watch the Ponyville pegasi lead the migratory birds south to warmer climates. Once the flocks were underway, Chalk found herself helping Fluttershy ensure that the burrowing mammals were comfortably ensconced in their dens to hibernate, using her masonry skills to make sure that their burrows were warm and safe from the snow. Big Macintosh joined the other farming ponies on their tour of the local fields, ensuring that all of the annual and biennial plants that had reached the end of their life cycles were churned up and returned to the soil.

By the end of the day, everypony was exhausted, and grateful for the feast that the Mayor and the Cakes had organised in the town hall. Pinkie Pie somehow still had energy left after a day of shaking old birds' nests down from trees, and bounced around the hall bringing food and hot drinks to the tired workers. When she found Big Macintosh and Chalk curled up in a corner of the hall, grooming each other's manes and stealing a kiss when they thought nopony was watching, she squealed softly to herself and simply set down a plate of fruit pastries without disturbing them.

Life in the farmhouse settled down once the winter snows set in, and the three earth ponies had more time to spend on domestic chores. Granny Smith busied herself with tinning and preserving fruit, while Big Macintosh took care of repairs that had gone undone during the busier months. A few weeks into winter, Chalk moved her few belongings into Big Macintosh's room, though not without comment from Granny Smith.

"You'll be sure to treat that mare right, won't you, grandson?" she quizzed him in the kitchen, while Chalk was folding sheets in what was now their shared bedroom. "She's had a hard life, harder than you or your sister have ever known."

"Of course, Granny," Big Macintosh protested between mouthfuls of hay. "Pa done taught me better than that, and so did you. I ain't never gonna treat her the way her husband did."

"See that you don't," replied Granny Smith, but her gentle smile showed that she had faith in her grandson. "And if you get her into trouble..."

Big Macintosh whinnied in embarrassment. "Granny! I... we're... eeyup. I'll do the honourable thing." He sighed softly, a fond smile on his muzzle. "I might just do that anyway. I'm mighty fond of her, you know. You did a good thing, making me be all friendly to her."

Granny Smith nudged Big Macintosh's shoulder with a hoof. "You weren't doing yerself no favours hidin' yerself away from the world. You're a good stallion, and I'm right proud of you. And so are your ma and pa, wherever they are now."

The weeks passed into the dead of winter. The shortest night of the year was approaching, and extra orders of snow were shipped in from Cloudsdale to blanket Ponyville's fields and buildings. It was the time of year when the Apple family would bar their shutters and pile the fireplace high, staying indoors until the worst of the season's storms were spent.

On the night of the solstice, Chalk and Granny Smith were in bed while Big Macintosh stayed up late in the farmhouse's workshop, making repairs to his plough and harness. The wind howled and beat against the shutters, wuthering through the eaves. He could hear the snow piling up against the walls, and was thankful once more for the roaring fire that kept the house warm.

Against all expectation, there came a knock at the farmhouse's front door. Big Macintosh raised his head from his work, thinking that he must have imagined the noise, when it came again – not a knocking, but a pounding, a series of heavy hoofbeats against the door.

"How could anypony be out on a night like this?" he asked himself as he hurried towards the door. "It might be Applejack back from Manehattan, but she knows better than to travel in midwinter. Whoever it is, I'd better let them in – a pony could freeze to death out there."

The hoofbeats came again as Big Macintosh reached the front door and unhooked the heavy bar, which secured the door against the wind more than against intruders. The door blew open with a swirl of wind and snow, revealing a huge coal-black earth pony stallion in a grey oilskin cloak, rearing back on his hind legs.

"Are you Big Macintosh?" demanded the stallion, as his front hooves dropped onto the wooden floor of the balcony with a crash.

"Eeyup," replied the farmer, taken aback by the stranger's aggression. "You're in Sweet Apple Acres. Who are you?"

"I'm Hoof Cliff," stated the newcomer, his voice heavy with rage, "and I'm here for my wife."

Free

Sweetie Belle screamed.

"Mister Cliff is alive?" she shrieked, grabbing hold of Apple Bloom with her trembling front hooves. "I thought Chalk said he was dead!"

"Sweetie Belle, it's just a story! Take it easy!" exclaimed Apple Bloom, hugging her unicorn friend, although she seemed rather shaken herself.

Scootaloo had reared up dramatically onto her hind legs, beating her wings to keep her balance. "Wow, Sweetie Belle... I didn't mean to scare you so much." She brought her front hooves back down to the floor, hard enough to jostle the oil lamp off the table. The wick of the lamp blew out as the lamp was upended, plunging the clubhouse into darkness.

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle screamed together, clutching each other tightly. Scootaloo groaned. "Come on, you guys! So we didn't notice how late it was. Nothing terrible is about to happen!"

Just then, a string of heavy hoofbeats pounded against the door to the clubhouse. Scootaloo vaulted over the table and huddled with her friends as all three of them screamed in terror.

Moonlight flooded into the clubhouse as Big Macintosh shouldered open the door, rushing inside. "Apple Bloom? Girls? What's goin' on?"

All three fillies pressed themselves against Big Macintosh's legs, clinging tightly to him. "Big Macintosh! It's you!" gasped Apple Bloom, pressing her head against his flank.

"Well, of course it's me," drawled Big Macintosh, peering down at the fillies with a quizzical look. "Who else would it be?"

Scootaloo managed to look guilty, and disentangled herself from Big Macintosh's leg. "I, um... might have been telling some scary stories... um, what time is it?"

"It's past suppertime. Come on, you two had better run on home. Your parents will be worried."

Sweetie Belle peered out past Big Macintosh, to the lonely farmland illuminated by the moon. "Um, Big Macintosh? Do you think maybe you could walk me and Scootaloo home?" Shadows were moving in the fields, which were probably just apple trees blowing in the wind, but any of them could have been a crazed rock farmer stallion.

Big Macintosh looked over the fields, thinking about his warm, comfortable bed, and then back at the fillies. "Eeyup."

The next day was Friday, the last day of school for the week. Apple Bloom trotted into the school yard about half an hour before the morning bell would ring, deep in thought. The idea that there were ponies like Hoof Cliff in Equestria had shaken her to her core. She remembered Nightmare Moon, of course, but she was a monster – Princess Luna turned to evil, and locked in the moon for a thousand years. Applejack had told her about Discord, too – another ancient monster, responsible for the day of chaos on the farm that she tried to forget. But Hoof Cliff was just a pony. He looked like any other pony. There could be a hundred ponies just like him in Equestria, or even in Ponyville.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to hear the sound of hoofsteps behind her, until something cold and slimy landed in her mane. Shrieking, she spun around, shaking her head frantically. Pipsqueak, the new colt from Trottingham, was standing behind her, his teeth gripping a paper bag that had contained the frog that was now clinging to her mane, croaking indignantly. Behind him, Snips and Snails guffawed loudly. "Way to go, new colt!" called Snips, while Snails stomped his hooves approvingly. Pipsqueak only grinned apologetically around the paper bag in his mouth.

Apple Bloom snorted angrily. "Pipsqueak!" she snarled, rearing back on her hind legs. "What the hay was that for?"

Pipsqueak dropped the bag and flattened himself against the ground. "I'm sorry, Apple Bloom!" he babbled, tripping over his words in his haste. "Snips and Snails said I had to do it because I'm the new colt and I'm really sorry and please don't kick me!"

Apple Bloom brought her hooves down in front of Pipsqueak with a crash. "Then make sure you don't..." she began, then looked down at the quivering colt in front of her, and at her own hooves.

Suddenly she felt very small.

"... I have to go," she squeaked, then galloped off towards Cheerilee's office. The frog hopped out of her mane and wandered off in the direction of the river, while Pipsqueak slunk back to his unicorn friends.

"Miss Cheerilee? I really need to talk to you," gasped Apple Bloom as she burst into Cheerilee's office. The teacher was gathering papers for the day's lesson, but stopped when she saw Apple Bloom's distress.

"Of course, dear. Sit down, have some water. Did somepony put something in your mane?" asked the older earth pony, doing her best to make Apple Bloom comfortable.

"What? Oh, yeah, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. I was listening to a story last night, about marriages that go wrong. Like... hitting kind of wrong."

Cheerilee blinked in surprise, walking around her desk to press her head against Apple Bloom's. Even without her cutie mark, the filly seemed to be growing up at a remarkable rate. "You know you mustn't let stories scare you. I don't know who would be telling a young filly such tales. But... I won't say that I haven't heard of such things. Not in Ponyville, but I've heard of it in Manehattan. I suppose you want to know how to avoid being in that situation?"

Apple Bloom nodded, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. "Yes, please, Miss Cheerilee," she whispered.

Cheerilee nodded solemnly, keeping her voice to the tone she used for private conversations rather than her teaching voice. "The most important thing you have to remember, Apple Bloom, is that you are a very special and worthwhile pony. A bad stallion might tell you that you deserve whatever he does to you, but you must remember that you don't. Nopony deserves to be treated that way. And if you need help, you have so many ponies who will do anything to help you in a situation like that. Your brother and sister, the Crusaders, your other friends... I'm sure Applejack could even get word to Princess Celestia if you were in a truly dire situation. And..." Cheerilee paused, nudging her head against Apple Bloom's again, "even once I'm not your teacher anymore, all you'd have to do is call on me and I'd be there to help you. So never forget that there are ponies who can help you."

Apple Bloom had started crying quietly as she listened to Cheerilee, leaning against her. "Thank you, Miss Cheerilee... that's... that's real good to know... but that ain't what I'm afraid of."

Cheerilee drew her head back in surprise. "It's not, dear?"

Apple Bloom shook her head. "I... I know I'm the strongest filly in my class... an' I'm stronger than all the colts, too, and I did kick Silver Spoon the other day, and this morning Pipsqueak thought I was going to kick him, and... am I a bad pony?"

Cheerilee threw her front legs around Apple Bloom's shoulders, holding her close. "Oh, Apple Bloom," she assured her, feeling tears welling in her own eyes. "You are the most kind-hearted filly I've taught in years. Miss Zecora told me about how you went to see her in the forest when nopony else would go near her. You help Twist with her mathematics and Snips with his reading, and I've even seen you help Diamond Tiara with her craft projects when she lets you. And the way you stand together with the Crusaders is... I've never seen anything like it in all my years as a teacher. You are a wonderful filly, and you're going to be a wonderful mare, and I will be so proud to have been your teacher.

"But you do think with your hooves too often," she continued, drawing back to regard Apple Bloom critically. "Fighting with Scootaloo is one thing, it's to be expected when she's aspiring to be like Miss Rainbow Dash, but I think you should be gentler with Sweetie Belle. She wasn't brought up to be as rough and tumble as you and Scootaloo, and I think she only goes along with it because you're her friends. As for Silver Spoon, you simply must remember that nothing a pony does means that she deserves for you to kick her." She sighed, looking out of her window towards the playground. "When you spend your whole life with a pony – a parent, a child, a sister or a husband – that pony will do things that will make you want to kick them. There will be times when that pony aggravates you more than anything else in Equestria, but that can't mean that you stop loving them. And you should never hurt the ones you love. And even the ponies you don't love don't deserve violence. Do you understand all that, dear?"

Apple Bloom nodded, wiping her eyes with Cheerilee's handkerchief. "I think so, Miss Cheerilee. I'll try to be less violent from now on, I promise. Thank you, Miss Cheerilee."

Cheerilee smiled. "Well, of course, Apple Bloom. If I couldn't help fillies like you become better ponies, I wouldn't deserve this." She gestured to the smiling flowers on her flank. "Now come along, class is about to start."

The Crusaders gathered at the clubhouse again that afternoon, having obtained permission for a sleepover that night. Sweetie Belle brought enough blankets for everypony, while Apple Bloom rustled up enough hay and snacks to keep them happy until noon the next day. Scootaloo packed a second oil lamp for the clubhouse, wanting to avoid a repeat of the previous night's terror.

"I think I'll cut back on the scary stories for a while, once we're done with this one," mused Scootaloo as they walked up the clubhouse ramp, laden with their supplies for the sleepover. "I'd forgotten how easily scared you two are."

"Us?" objected Sweetie Belle, dumping her pile of blankets on Scootaloo's head. "You wanted Big Macintosh to walk us home just as much as I did!"

Scootaloo staggered into the corner and shook off the blankets. "Alright, but you'd better not tell anypony about that, especially not Rainbow Dash! Anyway, Cheerilee doesn't want me reading any more horror stories until I'm older."

Apple Bloom looked guilty. "Oh, sorry. I think that's my fault. I told Cheerilee I'd been listening to some scary stories and I reckon she must have guessed who was telling them. I didn't get you into trouble, did I?"

Scootaloo shook her head, her purple mane swishing from side to side. "I'm not in trouble, but I think Miss Twilight might be. Guess that means no more of those books. And I was just about to borrow The Necromancer of the Everfree Forest, too..."

Sweetie Belle had already arranged the blankets so that she and Apple Bloom could lie down with a good view of Scootaloo, who was given pride of place in the armchair. It occurred to Apple Bloom that their storytelling nights had gone on for almost a week, without the possibility of a storytelling cutie mark coming up in conversation. She was about to suggest the idea when Scootaloo draped her black cloak around her shoulders and began her story once more.

"Your wife? I don't know who you mean. Ain't nopony here who's anypony's wife."

Hoof Cliff pushed his way into the farmhouse, shoving past Big Macintosh as he stood in the doorway, seeming rather dazed. "Don't give me that, you tree-kicker! I just hired a stallion for my winter harvest and he told me he'd seen my wife Chalk living here. Where is she?"

Big Macintosh snorted in anger as Hoof Cliff mentioned Chalk's name. "You're Chalk's husband? She said you were dead! If you ain't, then you ain't welcome here. She don't want to see you."

Hoof Cliff had trotted into the kitchen, his head swinging from side to side as he looked for his wife, but turned to face Big Macintosh as he spoke. "She's my wife! I've a right to see her and a right to take her home! Are you going to stand between a stallion and his lawful wife?"

Big Macintosh looked the intruder up and down. Chalk hadn't exaggerated his physique – he was taller than Big Macintosh, with muscles like horseshoe iron, particularly in his front legs. Beneath his oilskin cloak, Big Macintosh could see the mark of a hoof smashing a boulder to pieces on his flank.

Big Macintosh fixed his front hooves on the floor under him, meeting Hoof Cliff's gaze resolutely. "Eeyup."

"Then may the Nightmare take you!" snarled Hoof Cliff, raising a hoof to strike Big Macintosh. He stopped abruptly, though, and Big Macintosh heard the sound of hooves shuffling into the kitchen behind him. He turned to see Chalk standing in the doorway to the dining room, with Granny Smith behind her in a dressing gown and slippers.

"Hoof Cliff!" exclaimed Chalk, her eyes white with fear. "Why are you here? I'm not going anywhere with you!" She stood her ground, not backing away from her husband even though her hooves trembled.

"And I'm not going anywhere without you!" retorted Hoof Cliff. "You're my wife and you'll do as I say! Put this foolishness to rest and come home!"

Big Macintosh growled softly, starting to scrape his front hoof along the wooden floor of the kitchen. "She said she ain't goin' nowhere with you, Mister Cliff. She don't belong to you no more."

Hoof Cliff snorted in anger, then darted forward, pushing Big Macintosh aside with his shoulder as he lunged for his wife.

An almighty crack rang out through the kitchen as Big Macintosh threw his weight onto his front hooves and thrust his back legs out with all of his might. His hooves struck Hoof Cliff's chest and slammed him against the rear wall of the kitchen, shaking the plates on their shelves. The blow would have shattered the bones of a pegasus or stopped the heart of a unicorn, but the huge earth pony stallion was left gasping on the floor, struggling to stand.

"I SAID, SHE DON'T BELONG TO YOU NO MORE!" bellowed Big Macintosh, whirling around to face the other stallion. "She's her own pony, and if she don't want to go nowhere with you, then she ain't going nowhere with you!" His ears lay flat against his head, and he snorted in rage as he raised his front hooves, glaring at the pony on the floor before him.

Hoof Cliff dragged himself up onto his knees, and turned his gaze from Big Macintosh to Chalk. "That's it, then, wife? You're going to abandon your home and your duties, everything you swore to when you married me?"

Chalk stepped up to Hoof Cliff and brought a hoof down in front of his muzzle. "Sweet Apple Acres is my home now, husband," she spat, looking down on him with contempt. "You can go back to Clifftop Grange and spend the rest of your life there for all that I care. And if you show your face around me again, I'll split it like a pebble."

Hoof Cliff looked from the hard face of his wife to the furious stallion who stood by her, hooves poised to strike. "The Nightmare take you both, then!" he snarled, hauling himself up onto his hooves. "May she bring you as much misery as she brought me!" Under the baleful glare of the inhabitants of Sweet Apple Acres, he limped into the hallway and out into the howling blizzard. The front door slammed behind him with a thud that echoed through the farmhouse.

Chalk stared at the door as it slammed shut, an expression of disbelieving wonder on her face. "He's gone. He's really gone."

She turned to Big Macintosh and pressed her head against his shoulders, sighing happily. "You kept me safe from him, just as you said you would. I can't thank you enough, Big Macintosh... Big Macintosh?" she asked, looking up at him when she realised he wasn't embracing her in return.

Big Macintosh looked back down at Chalk, his mouth set in a hard line. "You told me your husband was dead," he stated dully.

Granny Smith hobbled over to the pair. "Don't you be starting with that nonsense now, grandson," she began, but Big Macintosh cut her off.

"No, Granny, this is important. Pa wouldn't have approved of this none." Turning back to Chalk, he continued. "You told me your husband was dead. You lied to me. You're a married mare, and that means what we did weren't right."

Chalk looked crestfallen, her ears drooping dejectedly. "But I... if Hoof Cliff found out where I was... I had to keep myself safe."

"Did you think I would send you back to him?" asked Big Macintosh, taking a step back from his lover. "Did you think I would make you go home to be a 'good wife'?"

Chalk cast her gaze down. "I did. Everypony in Cliffside would have done the same. Once I knew you were different, I... I was afraid that what we have would end... that you'd end it."

Big Macintosh nodded grimly. "Eeyup. I would have. Pa taught me not to lie to other ponies, and not to fool around with a married mare. I can't do this no more."

The large stallion turned and walked from the kitchen, settling himself in Applejack's bedroom and closing the door. The two mares looked at each other, with nothing to say.

The next morning dawned bright and clear, the previous day's allotment of snow now blanketing the ground. Big Macintosh opened the shutters and groaned as he squinted out over the brilliantly white landscape, thinking about the events last night's storm had brought. Hoof Cliff, every bit the dangerously unstable stallion Chalk had made him out to be, except that he was still alive. Which made Chalk an adulterer, and him...

Well, Pa would never have approved of it, he knew that for sure.

Was what he had with Chalk over, then? It had to be. It wasn't right to carry on with a married mare, and she'd lied to him. He had trusted her, and then this had happened. It simply wasn't right.

Sighing heavily, he hauled himself out to the kitchen, where Granny Smith was stirring a pot of porridge over the hearth. "Morning, Granny," he muttered, looking around the kitchen. "Chalk not up yet?"

"I thought I'd let her sleep," replied Granny Smith, turning from her work to regard her grandson. "After everything that happened last night, I didn't reckon I should be the one to wake her up. I'll leave that to you."

"Granny," Big Macintosh objected, hanging his head. "What else could I have done? We were doing the wrong thing, and she knew it and she didn't tell me."

"And can you blame her?" asked Granny Smith. "Can you put the blame on her for wanting to leave that no-good husband of hers behind, to forget about the biggest mistake she ever made? For wanting a new life away from that rotten stallion and that rotten town she came from?"

"But that don't make it right, Granny. Pa wouldn't have –"

"Your pa was a darned foal of a pony, Big Macintosh."

Big Macintosh stared at his grandmother, his mouth hanging open. "Granny! How can you say that?"

"Because he was my colt. I foaled him, and I raised him, and I loved him, and I buried him, and I'll say what I like about him. He was a good stallion, and he found a good wife and raised two good children, but he was a darned foal sometimes."

Big Macintosh blinked slowly, shaking his head. "But he taught me everything I know! He taught me how to be a good stallion. A proper stallion."

"Did he teach you how to be happy, grandson? Way I remember it, he taught you rules and he taught you how to work yourself to death. You and your sister both work too hard, and you take too much weight on your own backs. That's fine when it comes to the farm, that's how we keep our noses above water, but you work your hearts too hard too. You're too keen to do everything the way your ma and pa taught you, and they done taught you well, but you've got to be your own ponies now."

"But I..." began Big Macintosh. "I gotta... do what Pa said... gotta be a good pony. I don't wanna let him down..."

The big stallion lumbered over to his grandmother and pushed his head against her mane, finally crying the tears he had been holding back since his parents' death. "I just miss them both so much, Granny. I don't know what to do now that they're gone, except be the stallion of the house the way Pa taught me. But I'll never be the stallion he was. I miss him..."

Granny Smith ran her teeth through her grandson's mane, nickering soothingly to him. "I miss them too, grandson. Your ma was like a filly to me, after your aunt moved out west with her husband. She and your pa were all I had after your grandpa died, and burying your own foals is the worst thing in the world a pony can have to do.

"And it's good that you're trying to do what your pa wanted. But what he wanted more than anything else was for you and Applejack to be happy. And you ain't been happy this last year except for when Chalk came and made you happy. And letting her walk out of your life ain't what your pa would want, no matter what he said when he was alive."

Big Macintosh nodded slowly. "You're right, Granny. I can't let her go now. Not after everything we've been through. Especially not after last night. She's just made her own life right, now I gotta let her make mine right too."

Granny Smith watched her grandson proudly as he walked from the kitchen, towards the bedrooms. A minute later, though, he rushed back with a piece of paper between his teeth.

"She wasn't there, Granny. Just a note from her." Big Macintosh laid the note on the kitchen table, and the two ponies read it in silence.

"Dearest Big Macintosh,

I have made so many mistakes. I have lied to you, more than once, and made a dishonourable stallion out of you through my deception. You have been nothing but kind and generous to me, and the hospitality of your household has made these past months the happiest of my life.

I love you, Big Macintosh, and I want you to be happy. I don't deserve the happiness you have brought me if it comes at the expense of your own. You are the best stallion I have ever known, and you deserve better than a broken mare like me. I hope you can spend your life with somepony who deserves you.

Yours,

Chalk Cliff"

Big Macintosh stared at the letter, then out towards the door. "She could be anywhere by now, Granny. She probably left in the night." He shook out his mane, agitated.

"Simmer down, grandson," muttered Granny Smith. "She ain't taken nothin' from the larder, so she's gonna have to buy food in Ponyville if she wants to go anywhere. You might be able to catch her in town still. You'd better hurry, though. She oughtn't be out in this cold by herself."

Big Macintosh had galloped out the front door almost before Granny Smith finished speaking. She sighed and turned back to her cooking.

"Especially in her condition."

Big Macintosh thundered across the snowy ground, through Sweet Apple Acres, into Ponyville. There were no stalls in the market at this early hour in the middle of winter, but the scent of baking bread and cake drifted from Sugarcube Corner, whose door was closed against the cold but clearly marked with a bright purple "OPEN!" sign.

The bell above the door jangled as Big Macintosh pushed his way inside, and the bright yellow proprietor greeted him cheerfully. "Welcome to Sugarcube Corner! How can I... oh, Big Macintosh, it's you!" continued Carrot Cake. "It's a good thing you're here."

"Is Chalk here?" gasped Big Macintosh, leaning against the door frame. "I thought she might have stopped in to buy food on her way out of town..."

"She's upstairs, with Cup and Pinkie," replied Carrot Cake. "You should get up there."

Carrot Cake looked concerned, but Big Macintosh didn't stop for long enough to ask why, as he clattered up the stairs to Pinkie Pie's bedroom. Chalk was sitting up in Pinkie's bed, coughing into a cloth that Pinkie held to her mouth. Mrs Cake was in Pinkie's tiny kitchenette, brewing a pot of tea.

Big Macintosh rushed to the bed, kneeling on the other side from Pinkie Pie. "Chalk! What happened to you?"

Chalk looked up at Big Macintosh as he moved into her field of vision. Her eyes seemed to shine with the sweat streaking her face, which Pinkie mopped up as best she could. "Big Macintosh?" she murmured, blinking in surprise. "What are you doing here? I thought you wanted me gone! After I lied to you so much..."

Big Macintosh pressed his head against Chalk's neck, sighing in relief to have found her again. "I don't want you to go, Chalk. You're... that is to say, we're... I love you," he finally blurted out, turning his head to gaze into her eyes. "I love you and I don't want you to go. You're the best thing that's ever come into my life, and I don't want to lose you."

Chalk nuzzled Big Macintosh's neck gently, then sat up straight to drink the mug of herbal tea that Mrs Cake had brought to her. "I love you too, Big Macintosh. Even without all of the wonderful things you've done for me – given me a home, sent my husband on his way – I would still love you. You're everything I've ever wanted in a stallion." She paused and shook her head, then took another slurp of tea. "No, you're everything I should have wanted. I married what I thought I wanted, and look where that got me. I am so sorry that I lied to you, my love... what can I do to make things right?"

Big Macintosh pressed his lips against his beloved's cheek, noticing how hot her flesh was. "Just be honest with me, that's all I want. And come home with me and be... well... you know I'd make you my wife if I could. But we can be... together, and that's what matters." He pressed the back of one fetlock against Chalk's forehead. "You're burning up, Chalk. What's wrong?"

Chalk sighed and turned her head so that Pinkie could mop her forehead with a damp cloth. "I took ill not long after I left Cliffside, Big Macintosh. I don't know if it's from the cold, or the damp... it strikes me when I run too far and have to breathe too deeply. It started to recede when I settled down at Sweet Apple Acres, but it hasn't gone away."

Big Macintosh gave a grateful smile to both Pinkie Pie and Cup Cake, bowing his head to them in thanks for the care they were taking for Chalk. "We'll look after you, Chalk," he promised. "We've just passed through the worst of winter, and things will only get warmer from now on. You're in good hooves here in Ponyville."

Chalk smiled blissfully, reaching up to lay her hoof against Big Macintosh's face. "I know I am. I never want to be anywhere else. And... there's one more bit of news you should know. It's good news, though, or at least I hope it is."

Carrot Cake and his latest customer looked up at the ceiling of the shop, hearing Pinkie Pie's delighted squeal through two intervening floors.

Chalk spent the night in the loft at Sugarcube Corner, with Big Macintosh and Pinkie Pie taking turns to care for her. At midmorning the next day, when the sun was high in the sky and shedding what light it could through the clouds, they went home to Sweet Apple Acres, to make their new life away from the spectre of Chalk's past, and to look forward to the new life that would be joining them soon.

Winter passed into spring, only two days behind schedule. Applejack returned to the farm in mid-spring, with documents from the bank detailing their loan, and orders for half of the orchard's worth of saplings already on their way. Applejack and Chalk took to each other immediately, recognising in each other a kindred spirit knowing the value of hard work. The idea of having a new sister certainly appealed to her, and the idea of becoming an aunt even more so.

After the new saplings were planted, the three young earth ponies stood and watched the local bees take to the new blossoms growing on the branches. "Spring is so beautiful in Ponyville," commented Chalk. "Up north, spring just means new grass for the sheep, and a little more rain. Here, it's a whole new world after winter. There are so many colours everywhere, green and red, and white for the apple blooms. I could stand and watch the blooms for hours. So beautiful. So much new life."

Big Macintosh pressed his head against Chalk's, sighing in contentment. "It is beautiful. Don't you miss your own work, though, the rock farming? It must be rough not being able to use your special talent."

Chalk nodded solemnly in agreement, but then Applejack interjected. "Well, there's a field out past the southern cornfield that we were just going to leave fallow for a couple of years. You could set up a little rock farming field down there! Won't hurt the soil none, I'm sure, and it'd be a little bit of extra revenue for the farm."

Chalk brightened up at the idea, and she and Big Macintosh spent the afternoon rolling rocks into the new field, and arranging them in just the right fashion. The theory of rock farming was still a mystery to Big Macintosh, but Chalk assured him that her family had made their fortune in the practice, as had her husband's. When they were finished, the field stood dotted with boulders and smaller rocks in a sort of pleasing, stark symmetry.

Something was missing, though, until Big Macintosh remembered that there was one sapling left in the last shipment that they hadn't been able to fit into the orchard. Soon enough, the young tree was planted as the centrepiece of Chalk's rock garden, its browns and greens providing a warm contrast from the grey, stony field.

"It's perfect," murmured Chalk, leaning against her lover's flank. "This truly feels like the home I've always wanted. I want to live in Sweet Apple Acres for the rest of my life."

"You will, my love," replied Big Macintosh, lipping at her mane. "We all will. You, me and the little one. We'll be a family."

Spring gave way to summer, and the first round of apple harvesting. The weather grew hotter with each passing week, but instead of responding favourably to the warmer, drier air, Chalk's cough grew worse, and her fever kept her in bed one day out of every four. She still worked when she could, though, drawing the cart full of apples that Big Macintosh and Applejack had bucked down. She walked down to her rock garden at least once a week, to shift the stones around and watch the apple blooms blowing in the breeze.

Summer turned to autumn. Granny Smith did her best to keep Chalk's strength up with the very best vegetables and grains, but between her illness and her pregnancy, she could not help with Applebuck Season, finding herself confined to the farmhouse for most of the season. The most she could do was walk down to the fields where Big Macintosh and Applejack were working, and bring them the food that Granny Smith had prepared for them. Her garden still brought her joy, even though she could do little but walk among the stones and watch the growth of her tree.

By the time Chalk was ready to foal, her fever had risen and was refusing to break. Applejack had fetched Nurse Redheart from town, and Pinkie Pie had joined them on the way back, as if she had somehow known that the foaling would be that night. Big Macintosh and Pinkie Pie took turns keeping vigil by Chalk's side in their bedroom while Redheart tended her as best she could. When Chalk slipped into a shallow sleep, the nurse drew Big Macintosh aside.

"I believe your foal will live, Big Macintosh," she said without preamble. "All of the signs are for a healthy foal. I don't think Chalk's illness will pass to her child, either, as long as she doesn't nurse it herself. She has the strength left for a successful foaling."

Big Macintosh nodded slowly. "What about Chalk, then?"

Nurse Redheart shook her head.

"I am so sorry, Big Macintosh. This rot has been consuming her lungs for over a year, by my estimation. If she had found good medical attention when it first took hold of her, she may have thrown it off. But now... I suspect that there was nothing to be done for her since before she arrived in Ponyville."

The large stallion blinked. "She was a dead mare walking all this time? Everything we did together... that was all the time she had left? Did she even know?"

Nurse Redheart shrugged sadly. "Probably not. She is very strong. A pegasus in her condition would not have lived this long, nor would an earth pony without her stamina and otherwise good health. She has fought the infection very well, but... even without the foal, I wouldn't have expected her to survive another winter. And the foaling will be the end of her, I'm afraid."

Big Macintosh was about to ask the nurse another question, but Chalk stirred on the bed and called out to him. "Big Macintosh? Are you there?"

He knelt by the side of the bed again, pressing a cool, damp cloth against Chalk's sweat-stained muzzle. "Right here, my love. I'm not going anywhere."

Chalk gazed up at her beloved stallion, her eyes shining with sweat and tears. "What does the nurse say? Will our foal be alright?"

Big Macintosh nodded. "Fine and healthy, she thinks. It'll come soon, and we'll be ready." He cradled her head as she coughed into another rag, leaving it a bloody mess.

"And what about me, darling? Am I dying?"

The stallion looked across the bed to Nurse Redheart, then over to his family and Pinkie Pie, clustered outside the bedroom door. If there was one thing his father had taught him that he'd never put aside, it was the importance of honesty, especially at a time like this. "Eeyup," he told her, tears starting to fill his eyes.

Chalk tilted her head to butt it against Big Macintosh's. "Don't cry, my love. I don't have any regrets. This year, here, with you, has been the best year of my life."

"Mine too, Chalk," murmured Big Macintosh, leaning his head against hers. "Mine too."

Chalk began to whinny in pain, and Nurse Redheart bustled him out of the bedroom, leaving her and Granny Smith to tend to Chalk as the foaling began. In spite of Redheart's assurances, it was the most anxious half hour of Big Macintosh's life, and neither Applejack's company nor Pinkie Pie's tea could soothe his nerves. After what seemed like a hundred years, the nurse beckoned Big Macintosh back into the bedroom.

Chalk sat up in the bed, gazing at a foal with a soft yellow coat, which Nurse Redheart was cleaning with a fresh cloth. The foal's mane and tail were a brilliant red, just like Chalk's. Both ponies looked up at Big Macintosh as he approached the bedside.

"Come and meet our filly, Big Macintosh," Chalk greeted him, smiling weakly. "Look at her. Isn't she perfect?"

Big Macintosh knelt down and placed his muzzle next to his new filly, letting her bat at him with her tiny hooves. He barely remembered Applejack's own foaling, and so the sight of this new life stirred something unfamiliar in him. "She's beautiful, my love. What's her name?"

Chalk turned her head to the bedroom window, looking out over the fields of Sweet Apple Acres. "She's everything I love about this place. Everything beautiful in my life. My little Apple Bloom."

She sat back against the head of the bed, reaching out one hoof to nudge her filly. "You raise her well, Big Macintosh. Help her grow up strong, and tell her that her mother always loved her."

Chalk closed her eyes and curled up on her pillow, drifting off into sleep. Big Macintosh cradled their new filly and sat by her mother, watching her until he could no longer hear her breathing.

Apple Bloom was crying. Not weeping quietly as she had at the end of Sweetie Belle's story, but sobbing out loud, her breathing coming in ragged gasps.

Scootaloo tilted her head towards Apple Bloom, a guilty feeling gnawing at her heart. "Um... Apple Bloom? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I KILLED HER!" wailed Apple Bloom, throwing her front legs around Sweetie Belle and crying into her mane. "My mother died foaling me and it's my fault!"

Sweetie Belle hugged Apple Bloom tightly. "It's not like that, Apple Bloom!" she reassured her. "Mares die in foaling sometimes... it's not the foal's fault, and she was sick anyway, right, Scootaloo?"

Scootaloo looked anguished, then gestured for Sweetie Belle to keep comforting Apple Bloom as she dashed off towards the farmhouse, wings pumping to drive her scooter as fast as it would go. A few minutes later, she returned leading Big Macintosh and Applejack, who rushed up the ramp into the clubhouse.

Big Macintosh picked Apple Bloom up by the mane and swung her onto his back, where she clung desperately, still sobbing. Applejack gave the other two fillies a stern glance. "Are you two fillin' Apple Bloom's head with crazy ideas about her parents again?"

Scootaloo stared at her hooves. "Maybe," she admitted. "But she really wants to know, Applejack! Why can't you just tell her? Isn't she old enough yet?"

Applejack sighed heavily as she followed Big Macintosh down the ramp. "I don't think she is, but I can see she ain't gonna stop trying to find out, not now that she's got the idea in her head. I reckon it's high time we sat her down and got the whole thing straightened out. Tomorrow mornin', I think. You two might as well come sleep in the farmhouse tonight."

Scootaloo nodded eagerly and started packing their supplies into the trailer, while Sweetie Belle looked up at Apple Bloom, still whimpering on Big Macintosh's back. "Is she going to be alright? I've never seen her like this before."

Applejack trotted alongside Big Macintosh, lowering her head to brush against Apple Bloom's. "She'll be right enough once we get her home. She's with her family, after all."

Family

Apple Bloom woke up even before the rooster crowed the next morning, unable to contain her excitement. Today was the day that Applejack and Big Macintosh were finally going to tell her the truth about her parents! She leapt from her bed and trotted out into the kitchen, hooves tapping excitedly.

The idea that her mother had died foaling her still weighed on her mind, though. Even before she had heard Scootaloo's story, the possibility had occurred to her. Why else would her mother not be here with her? Sweetie Belle was probably right, though – it wasn't her fault. Foaling was dangerous, even with modern medicine. And what if Applejack were her mother instead? She'd had to make a really hard decision, and it can't have been easy on her father either.

She wandered around the kitchen, too excited to think about breakfast. Was this the door where Applejack had come in and told her brother and grandmother that she was pregnant to a Manehattan banker? Maybe. Was this the wall where Big Macintosh had almost killed her crazed stepfather? Maybe.

But it was definitely the kitchen where Granny Smith had made her supper every single night of her life. It was the farmhouse where Big Macintosh had taught her to use hammer and saw to keep the old building in shape. It was the farm where Applejack took her out to fetch apples, crush grapes, herd sheep and do all the other tasks that kept Sweet Apple Acres running.

Apple Bloom stood at the kitchen window and watched the sun rise over the eastern fields, deep in thought. When her fellow Crusaders came in to greet her, she hugged them silently and waited for her family to arrive.

Applejack trotted into the kitchen a few minutes later, and stood in front of Apple Bloom while Big Macintosh and Granny Smith busied themselves about breakfast. "Well, Apple Bloom," began Applejack, "I gotta say, you're a mighty persistent filly. And stubborn, too. Just like me. I should have known you'd get to the bottom of any secrets about this place, whether I liked it or not.

"Your friends are right perceptive, too. They told me their ideas as I was gettin' them settled for bed, and there's an awful lot of truth in both of them. I don't know how you three managed to piece together so much of the story from just a few bits of paper." Scootaloo beamed happily, shaking out her mane proudly.

"So I reckon you've earned the right to know what really went on. You gotta understand why we didn't tell you sooner, though. It'd be real easy for a filly your age to take the wrong lesson from what we're about to tell you. But it's high time we did anyway. So, y'see..."

"Wait!" interjected Apple Bloom, leaning forward. "There's somethin' I wanna say first.

"I used to think that I didn't need to know who my parents were, because ya'll are the only family I need." She swung her head to encompass her brother, sister and grandmother, all of whom were watching her intently. "No matter who my mother and father are... or were... it's you three that I'm growing up with, and you're always going to be a bigger part of my life than anypony else will ever be.

"But then Diamond Tiara said something that made me think about that some more. She said that nopony should be ashamed of her family, the way Mrs Silver is of hers. And she said that I'm definitely an Apple, both born and raised. And I ain't ashamed of bein' an Apple – I reckon we're the best family in all Equestria."

Apple Bloom paused and looked at her friends, then out over the fields again. "But I've got another family out there somewhere. Whether it's the Oranges or the Caves or somepony else altogether. Whether they're bankers or rock farmers or... or if my pa is Cousin Braeburn and my ma's an outlaw, I dunno. But whoever they are, I reckon I shouldn't be ashamed of them either. And if I ain't ashamed of them, then I should want to know who they are, and let them be part of my life.

"And my parents themselves... I know you three are the ponies who raised me, and that'll always be the most important thing... but whoever my parents were, they gave something up for me too. Whether it was..." she turned to Scootaloo, feeling tears forming at the corners of her eyes again, "whether it was my ma dyin' to bring me into the world, or my pa who was willin' to change his whole life to be there for me, but let somepony else raise me instead... they gave up something for me, and I should know what that was, and be able to thank them for it.

"So that's why I want to know who my mother and father are."

She took a deep breath.

"But not today."

Everypony else in the kitchen looked startled. "What? I thought you said you really wanted to know!" exclaimed Sweetie Belle, cantering forward to stand near her friend.

"I do! I really do," replied Apple Bloom. "It's important, and I wanna find out soon. Just... not today. I just know that when I find out who my other family is... well..." She leant against Sweetie Belle and looked up at Applejack, sighing. "Things are going to change. It'll change how I relate to the three of you, and then there'll be more family in my life. I'll want to spend a lot of time finding out about them.

"But I wanna spend more time learning about you, first. About us, the Apples. I never even thought about what life was like on the farm before I was born. Diamond Tiara says the Apples were part of the founding of Ponyville, and we're one of the most important families in town, and... I just don't know anything about that. So I really want to learn more about being an Apple before I learn about what else I might be."

Applejack rushed forward and gathered Apple Bloom up into a tight hug. Big Macintosh and Granny Smith moved in to press their heads against her, while Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo leant against one another, touched by the scene of family unity.

"You're such a clever little filly," murmured Applejack as she hugged her beloved sister. "I wish I'd been half as wise as your age. Come on, we'll tell you all about what it means to be an Apple. You can ask us about your other family any time you want, of course... but no matter who they are, wherever you go to meet them, you'll always be an Apple."

"That's all I want to be right now," replied Apple Bloom, embracing her family.

Author's Note: Hello, fimfiction.net! I started writing "Apple Bloom's Family" long before I realised that this website existed, so now that I've finished writing it, I thought I'd publish it here.

This chapter concludes "Apple Bloom's Family". I realise that I haven't revealed a "true" version of Apple Bloom's parentage. I used the framing device of the Crusaders' storytelling in order to present two different stories that I wanted to tell about the same subject. Neither of these stories is finished, though!

I will be writing at least two more stories, one where Apple Bloom is the filly of Applejack and Orange Counter, one where her parents are Big Macintosh and Chalk, and possibly others. Naturally, the focus of these stories will be on Apple Bloom meeting the other half of her family and discovering how she fits in with them, and how she grows as a pony in the process. As she said in this chapter, things may change a lot for her.

So, stay tuned for these new stories! I will place a link to the new stories within this Author's Note when the first chapter is published, or you can follow me, or just ask to be informed when the new story is up.

Which story will I write first? I have ideas for both already, so I'll be guided by what my readers want to see first. If you have an idea for another possible parentage, by all means, suggest it and if I like it, I'll write it! I can't make any promises, though.

Thank you, everypony who's made it this far! I hope I can keep you entertained in the future.

What did you say about my mother?

“Alright, my little ponies, we’re going to be studying the history of Princess Celestia’s reign in History today. Keep working on your mathematics problems until I get back with the first volume of textbooks.”

Cheerilee slipped out through the door behind her desk, hoping that the children would behave themselves for five minutes this time. Sadly, this day was no better than any other in that regard.

“Excuse me, Apple Bloom?” called Silver Spoon from her desk on the left of the classroom, putting her rear hooves up on the chair in front of her. “I can’t read the blackboard from back here – what does it say?” She had the cultured, gentle voice of her mother, enough to put Apple Bloom off her guard long enough to fall into her trap.

“On the board?” replied Apple Bloom, craning her neck to peer at the front of the classroom. “Um, I don’t see anything on there, I think it’s blank.” Behind her, Scootaloo buried her face in her hooves.

“Oh, you’re right, it is blank!” purred Silver Spoon in a mocking, sing-song tone. “Just like your flank!” Diamond Tiara laughed uproariously, joined more modestly by a few of the other students.

Apple Bloom ground her teeth in embarrassment and frustration, then tossed her mane carelessly. “Oh, very funny, Silver Spoon. I’ve never heard that one before. At least when I get my cutie mark, it’ll show people how great I am, not just how rich my mother is.”

There was a thud as Silver Spoon pushed her chair back and stood up on her hind hooves. “I’m not ashamed of my cutie mark, blank-flank. It shows how much my mother loves me. Although...” she continued, a crafty look crossing her face. “Maybe you do have your cutie mark after all, and it’s about how much your mother loves you! She loved you so much that she gave you away!”

The laughter and muttering around the classroom fell silent. Everypony turned to watch Silver Spoon and Apple Bloom, and nopony dared to move. The sound of Apple Bloom’s chair scraping across the floor sounded ten times louder than it was, and then Apple Bloom was standing on all fours, staring directly at Silver Spoon. She didn’t even raise her voice, simply addressing the other filly in her usual squeak, dangerously calm. “What did you say about my mother?”

Sweetie Belle crept to Apple Bloom’s side, tugging at her tail. “Apple Bloom, we really don’t need to do this,” she whispered desperately, but Apple Bloom ignored her, focusing resolutely on Silver Spoon. Meanwhile, Diamond Tiara had risen from her chair and was addressing Silver Spoon. “You should take that back now, that’s too far...”

But Silver Spoon had just gotten started. “You heard me!” she shot back at Apple Bloom. “Your mother never loved you and that’s why she gave you away to Applejack, and my mother says that your mother was probably no better than she ought to be, and I don’t know what she means by that but hey stop get away from me aaaiiee!” As Silver Spoon was speaking, Apple Bloom had walked straight up to her, rage in her eyes, and had spun around and kicked her with both back hooves, shoving her bodily into the opposite wall of the classroom in a move that would have made Applejack proud.

This time, the shocked silence lasted for all of half a second before the classroom erupted into chaos. Apple Bloom leapt at Silver Spoon, hooves first, and pinned her to the floor before she could get up, biting at her flank. Diamond Tiara tried to pull Apple Bloom off her friend, but Scootaloo charged across the classroom and shoved her away to collapse in a tangle of desks. Sweetie Belle pranced around the edge of the fight, not sure whether to help Apple Bloom or try to restrain her, figuring that she probably couldn’t do either. Some of the other students were on their hooves, cheering Apple Bloom on, while others appeared to be trying to make themselves invisible.

“CHILDREN! That is ENOUGH!” bellowed Cheerilee as she rushed back into the classroom, the textbooks in a forgotten heap on the floor. She shoved her way into the melee and picked up Apple Bloom with her teeth, depositing her on the other side of the classroom. Diamond Tiara and Scootaloo quickly disengaged from each other, and Silver Spoon slowly hauled herself upright, breathing heavily.

“Apple Bloom!” Cheerilee admonished the small earth pony. “I expected better of you. Brawling in my classroom, again! I’ll see you in my office after school.”

Apple Bloom stared at the floor, scuffing it awkwardly with one hoof. “Yes, Miss Cheerilee. I’m sorry, Miss Cheerilee.”

Silver Spoon chimed in from the other side of the classroom. “It was awful, Miss Cheerilee, I was just sitting at my desk working on my mathematics, and...”

“You too, Silver Spoon!” Cheerilee interrupted her. “Don’t try to play the innocent with me. I’ll know what this was all about soon enough. Now, everypony, back to your desks and we’ll try to learn something today, shall we?”

Cheerilee gestured to the chair in front of her office desk, and Apple Bloom sat down, hating herself for losing her temper and making Cheerilee angry with her. Oddly, though, the teacher didn’t seem nearly as upset as she’d expected.

“Apple Bloom, I’ve just spoken to Silver Spoon, and she’s told me everything she said to you. And quite frankly, I am appalled. You were wrong to kick her, of course, but I am so sorry that you had to hear her telling those lies about your mother.”

Apple Bloom clasped her hooves together in front of her, mumbling, “They’re not lies.”

Cheerilee blinked, then looked back at the classroom where she’d set Silver Spoon to writing out lines of “I will not insult other ponies’ families”. “I beg your pardon, Apple Bloom? What was that you said?”

The filly raised her head and spoke more clearly, but her eyes were downcast. “They’re not lies. She’s telling the truth. My mother did give me away.”

Cheerilee was stunned, and could say nothing for a few moments. She looked at Apple Bloom as if she’d never seen her before.

“I’m very sorry, Apple Bloom, I had no idea. Everypony spoke so highly of Mr and Mrs Apple.”

Apple Bloom almost managed a smile at that. “Yeah, but they died two years before I was born. Applejack told me, she wouldn’t lie to me.”

Cheerilee looked down at the filly’s file in front of her. “Oh. So they did.” Her expression softened considerably. “Is this something you want to talk about, dear? That was still a terrible thing Silver Spoon said, even if there was some truth to it. I’m sure your mother loved you very much, and wished she didn’t have to give you up.” In fact, she was sure of no such thing, but one had to say such things to children.

Apple Bloom shook her head. “It’s alright. Applejack and Big Macintosh are all the family I could ever want. It doesn’t really matter who my parents were.”

Cheerilee reached across her desk and patted Apple Bloom’s shoulder. “You should run along home, sweetheart. I can see this has been a very rough day for you.” Apple Bloom brightened up at that, and almost skipped out of the classroom, before Cheerilee called after her, “We can have your detention tomorrow instead.”

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were waiting for Apple Bloom on the path leading through the schoolyard. Apple Bloom had been lost in thought as she left the school, wondering, and not for the first time, about the truth about her parents. Her expression brightened as she saw that her loyal friends had waited for her. They quickly crowded around her, Scootaloo prancing at her side as Sweetie Belle hugged her tightly.

“So what happened?” asked Scootaloo as she fished the Crusaders’ helmets out of her scooter’s trailer. “We thought you’d be in there for hours! Didn’t you get detention?”

Apple Bloom smiled happily now that she was back with her friends, as they strolled out towards the school gate. “Yeah, but Cheerilee let me do it tomorrow. She thought I’d be upset – she didn’t know I was adopted.”

Sweetie Belle nodded. “Silver Spoon shouldn’t have said that about your mother. I don’t suppose Applejack’s told you anything about her yet?”

Shortly after they became friends, Apple Bloom had told the other Crusaders as much as she knew about her parents, but that still wasn’t very much. “Nope. She keeps saying she’ll tell me when I’m ‘old enough to understand properly’. I ain’t a foal anymore, I should be... oh, what in the hay is she doing here?”

Diamond Tiara was perched on the schoolyard fence, tossing a glittering, gem-encrusted disk from hoof to hoof in an effort to pass the time. At the sound of Apple Bloom’s voice, she looked up at the three friends, and slipped the disk into her saddle bags. “Oh, it’s you three. I’m waiting for Silver Spoon to finish with her detention. What?” she asked, glaring, when Apple Bloom looked sceptical. “You think you blank-flanks invented the concept of loyalty?”

Apple Bloom tossed her head and strapped on her helmet. “Whatever, Diamond Tiara. See you tomorrow.”

“Wait!” called Diamond Tiara as Scootaloo climbed onto her scooter and started beating her wings. The pegasus filly stopped and glared at Diamond Tiara, but she paused before the scooter could start moving. “What? This had better be good.”

Diamond Tiara looked back at the schoolhouse, then directly at Apple Bloom. “I just want you to know that what Silver Spoon said in there wasn’t alright.”

“Hay yeah it wasn’t!” snapped Apple Bloom, but then she paused. “Wait. Are you apologising? To me? For her?”

The diamond-bedecked filly nodded. “We’ve got plenty of reasons to make fun of you – you’re poor, you have a silly accent, you’re clumsy, you have no dress sense, you don’t have your cutie mark yet... but not your family. Family’s too important to make fun of. Especially yours, Apple Bloom.”

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle were looking at Diamond Tiara as if she’d grown a second head, complete with its own tiara. Apple Bloom, though, climbed out of the trailer and went to stand next to the fence. “My family? But I’m not an Apple. I’m adopted, everypony knows that now.”

“Wow, like, I’ll add ‘kind of slow’ to that list too, huh? You might not be Applejack’s sister, but you’re her cousin or something. You’ve totally got the same colours as Applejack and Big Macintosh, you’ve got the Apple nose and the Apple shoulders. My mother says your mother was probably a cousin who died young. Silver Spoon really shouldn’t have said what she said. She doesn’t understand family. Her grandparents were wheat farmers before her grandfather found a silver mine on their land, and now her mother’s ashamed of who her family was. Nopony should be ashamed of her family.”

Apple Bloom shook her head in surprise. “That’s just what Applejack says. I didn’t think Diamond Ring even knew my family existed.”

Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes. “For real? Do you, like, pay any attention to the world outside your farm at all? When the Mayor says ‘Ponyville was founded by earth ponies’, what she means is ‘Ponyville was founded by the Diamonds and the Apples’. You’re below us on the grazing order, but your parents – well, Applejack’s parents – were pillars of the community. I wasn’t even born then and I know that. You’ve got every reason to be proud of your family, and I’ll bet my tiara to that scooter that your parents are closer to Applejack and Big Macintosh than you think.”

Apple Bloom blinked and looked thoughtful. “Well... gee. Thanks, Diamond Tiara. I feel a lot better now.”

“Good. Now why don’t you three blank-flanks go find out if your special talent is, like, ‘getting out of my mane’?” Diamond Tiara turned back to her jewelled disk, while a stunned-looking Apple Bloom climbed back into the trailer, and Scootaloo trundled off, beating her wings.

“Didn’t see that coming,” muttered Scootaloo. “Weird to see her being so nice. Well, nice for Diamond Tiara, anyway.”

“Do you think she’s right, Apple Bloom?” asked Sweetie Belle quietly, making herself comfortable in the trailer. “That you really are an Apple, like a cousin or something?”

Apple Bloom was quiet for much of the trip to the Crusaders’ clubhouse. “I think she must be,” she said finally. “She seemed really serious. So if my mother isn’t the same pony as Applejack’s mother, then who was she? What if she’s still alive? And who’s my father? Gosh darn it, now I really wanna know!”

Scootaloo unhitched the trailer as they reached the clubhouse, and collected the ponies’ helmets. “But Applejack won’t tell you yet, will she?”

Apple Bloom shook her head. “Still says I ain’t old enough. But that won’t stop us! There’s gotta be a letter or something from my parents if they left me with Applejack and Big Macintosh. We could find out for ourselves!”

Sweetie Belle grinned. “It’s a mystery! Let’s all split up and look for clues. Your house is really big, we’ll all look in different places for the secret. And we might even get our cutie marks as we go!”

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle slipped their forelegs around Apple Bloom’s shoulders in the Crusaders’ traditional group hug. “Cutie Mark Crusader genealogical detectives! Yay!”