Where Rock meets Earthby SipiocChaptersHonest WorkHappy TrailsThe Road ends at HomeOur DayHonest WorkI stride the path. I keep it steady, but it weaves naturally in a wave around the shape of the land. I feel every stone, every hard patch of mud, but it all yields on to me in my stride. The yoke holds firm the plow parts the earth. I am Rockhoof, Shield bearer to the Mighty Helm, and the Pillar of Strength to old Equestria. Titles I hold with pride; mean nothing in this work. This honest work. I can’t help but smirk to myself at the realization that despite this lack of excitement, this is not a bad life for an Earth stallion at’all. It has been a over a thousand moons since the Pillars and I were set into our enchanted vigil over the darkness. So much has changed in the land we once called home. Even my old village, barely recognizable to mine eyes. Still, I find comfort in the glimmers that come to the surface. It is in the faces of these new country folk, I see it. Flashes of culture and tradition, as well as the sturdiness of their forebears that would do their ancestors proud in this new world they made for themselves. But the land? The rock, the very soil itself? It remains the same. A familiar calling that only the Earthen tribe can truly understand. The construction of the tall metal and stone structures compare little to that of the wonders the good earth provides. It is here I hath found myself yet again in this, the ‘modern’ age. The morning hath waned to early afternoon, and though I have been at this task for hours, my mettle remains stalwart and my strength holds true. Taking a moment from my labors, I survey the bounty they hath brought. Row upon row, of well plowed fields. Neatly and primmly waiting to be cultivated by loving hooves, to grow strong and true. To cover this new world in an all too familiar green. A swell of pride takes me, in this purest of trades. Not a month past was this but a tangled assortment of rocks and scraggly trees. The task of clearing the forest was done with care and thought, no heedless smashing, no desecration. Rocks crushed to manageable stone for the neat wall around it. Lumber stocked and cut, for the upcoming winter, with the following winter to be covered as well. Stumps likewise removed and given to those with the passion and the artisan skill to mold them into a new form, be it furniture or other craft. Though I sweat, the heavy band upon my brow diverts the stream of exertion from my sight. With a shake of my long mane I cast beads of toil about, returning it to nurture the very ground in which I work, and thus making our bond that much stronger. To the north, I see the vast expanse of green that will soon mirror what I make now. Row upon row of Apple trees. Apple. Ambrosia of old, a symbol of nourishment then as it remains now. But for me a reminder of where my newly awoken life hath led me. Not long after the defeat of the pony of Shadows, and our reconciliation with good Stygian, did I set out with the other Pillars to discover what wonders this new world had to offer. Adventures anew were had, stories of our feats were etched into long-unused memory, and new songs to be sung for the new halls of the royal court as well as the mead houses of today, or ‘coffee shops’ as they say. Still, there were times I found myself lost in this new world. When the path of the Pillars brought us back to the Kingdom of Friendship; back to our comrades and descendents, the Elements of Harmony. A ragtag bunch of mares, only equal to ourselves in our unique fellowship, I would imagine. ‘Twas only natural for us to find kinship with them and their ilk. But ‘twas Honesty what bewitched me. Strength she had, not unlike my own, but a strength of heart and spirit is what alighted me to her from the moment I laid eyes upon her. Though a mountain of a stallion I am now, I lived much of my life as but scrawny whelp. ‘Tis’ no shame in being one if one had the grit and savvy to speak one's mind, but old habits do tend to carry over. But perhaps that worked in my favor. Upon our return to humble town of Ponyville, Pinkamena Pie of Laughter, took it upon herself to organize a night of merrymaking for the lot of us. Starswirl, the old billy goat as he was, attempted to head her off. The pink precocious one would not be denied as one by one, she soon conscripted myself, Flash, Mist, Somm, Meadow, even Stygian to her cause. The old codger soon had little choice to partake in the festivities, and in turn that soon spilled out into the streets. A ‘block’ party as they call it. All of the citizens of Ponyville, young and old, rich and poor, celebrating the reunion of the champions, old and new. One could not help but feel the warmth in the very streets that night. It would on its own been intoxicating enough, but old habits die hard as well. The memories of my folly to the mighty Cherufe, then likewise temporary expulsion from the Helm may have been centuries ago, but tis a failure that still has bite on me. ‘Tis why, when a drinking contest was laid before me, I politely declined. Then came Honesty. Applejack of Honesty. Generations of good and dependable mares and stallions shone true in those emerald eyes, as did their unmistakable sense of pride. The greave cast against me, I set aside my fear of shaming my namesake for the opportunity to show this young filly how pride could get you into trouble. ‘Twas a teachable moment, as Starswirl would say. Now, one should know, the modern taste of drink does little to compare to the now antique pallet I doth possess. I hath lost count of the draft, but judging by the others stallions and mares about, it must of been more than a little. Yet, sweet Honesty, held her wits, and her drink strong, even if the redness in her speckled cheeks said otherwise. Another draft came and went. Than another. I can’t be sure what happened between that and the next, but I do know I was the victor in the contest. The next waking memory was sunrise. In a bed not my own, to sight of a golden haired goddess laying pressed to my chest. Applejack of Honesty, I imagine awoke with the similar shock to the sight of myself. As awkward as it should of been I couldn’t help but shake the sense of serenity in being with her. I hath caught the eyes of more than a few of the members of the fairer sex; by my spade, after a few glasses of her favorite wine even Mistmane would attest to the pleasence of my form. Still, back then my sights had always been set upon the road, adventure, and standing with the Pillars. Even in this time, I had felt lingering eyes upon me, passes of fancy being brought to me. I paid them no heed. But in that moment? In that moment, I wondered. Did she feel the same? Bah. Listen to me. Waxing like a bard of thoughts of fancy when there is work to be done. Daylight waits for one, and I am not she, I return to the pull of the yoke. But I would be fooling myself if my face didn’t betray a hint of what my heart felt as a came to the next bend. Author's Note I used to be a shipper like you, till I took a Rockhoof to the AJ. Enjoy! Applejack perspective next Happy TrailsWaking up with a headache and a sick stomach ain’t enough to stop me. Too much work to be done. Too many ponies counting on me. I’d sooner hang up my hat then let folk think Applejack was a belly acher. Besides, once I got going, and out into that crisp air, I was right at rain. Usual chores to be done: The pigs needed sloppin’, the milk was being sent off to the dairy now. Regular wear and tear around the farm? Refreshed and mended. That left me with a bit of breathing room. Not much. But enough to kick up my heels and take a jonce about the homestead. Like an old friend, the orchard was calling to me. Long rows of trees stand tall and strong, their roots holding deep to the earth to reap a great bounty come the falling of the leaves. Quiet moments like this is what gets me out of bed. What gets me out of bed every morning. A familiar flutter in my stomach reminds me that those times may be numbered. With Macintosh off to start his own orchard, and likewise his own family out east, the burden of the farm felt heavier on me. Applebloom was practically a mare now and though she would stay on if I asked her, I would much rather she explore and come to her own conclusion on what she wanted. Be it here, or out in the wide world. There was always Granny and Grand Pear, but each season brought them more aches and a few more pains that kept them out of the fields, though they would be too stubborn to admit it. To me or to each other. So that left me. Yet, despite the farm being in the midst of a great shift, I still felt at peace. The work that was to be done, got done. The wolf was seldom at the door (that’s the bank I’m referring to) and the perils of the Everfree still held back (actual wolves and then some.) It probably had a large part to do with that very night and what came the morning after. Hah! I woke up at the crack of dawn that morning, head splitting, yet ready to mosey. Yet, when the night came back to me... Pa had always told fanciful stories of Rockhoof the Strong since I was old enough for pigtails, and you bet your biscuits I’ll pass them on. But imagine actually getting to meet the legend himself? Now imagine waking up with him in your bed, with his arms around you. The party. The contest (that I won). Then...the ‘after party’. Poor colt didn’t stand a chance against my sturdy pallet, must of invited him back to look after him, only to ‘look after him’ in the process. I remember just laying there, feeling his body all around me. I have never now, nor ever been the kind of gal who needed to be cuddled, though I am more than happy to give it out to a friend or family in need. But this feeling, the warmth of his body, the steady breathing, the smell of him. A mare could get used to that. Didn’t have much time to dwell on it as he began to stir. It was then that a twinge of panic began to set in. I mean, what does one say to a friend in this situation? I think I may have settled for a ‘Howdy’ come to think of it. His reaction weren’t much better, ‘zounds’ or something. The old boy, was ever the gentle colt as a filly would hope, but was redder than a Gala all the way to his ears. We spoke about what happened. Mended fences, agreeing that things were still ‘okay’ between us and neither of us shared any less respect for one another for our transgressions. Hadn’t tried to sneak a stallion out of the house since I was sixteen, and now I had do so with one the size of two combined. To his credit, Rock was light on his hooves. Made it all the way to the porch before getting caught. Granny had been ‘waitin’ fer the paper’ but that smug grin on her face told a different story. Chores were a breeze that morning. I was only a little sore...from the cider...mostly the cider. Ahem. Anyhow; the girls and I were gonna see the Pillars off before they hit the road again and I didnt want to be late. Walking into Twi’s castle, I took my place at the map. From across the way, Dash didn’t resist smirking at me for what happened, even caught Shy giggling a bit at my expense. My hat proved an adequate tool for avoiding their gaze. Pinkie on the other hoof, had this odd compulsion of stacking a rock on top of an apple and giving me weird looks. Must be a rock farmer thing, I reckoned. Mercifully, the Pillars were ready to move out again by eight that morning. Good old Ponyville, just as friendly in its welcoming was just as kind enough to see them off to. Following Twilight’s lead we too said our goodbyes. When it came time though? Shoot. I just didn’t want Rockhoof to leave. I kept it to myself, gave him a hoof bump, and wished him-all of them, happy trails. That should of been enough. But it weren’t. Not a stone's throw away later did I let my hooves take over. Walked right up to him, pulled him down to me, and kissed him full on the lips. “Hoo-weeee.” Is all I will say about that. Old boy, looked shocked for a moment before he smiled and pulled me into a kiss of his own. World stood still for bit. After finally pulling ourselves apart, and I gave him a playful smack to the mark, I was ready to send him off. Of course I then had to face a gaggle of slack jawed friends, a Dragon, and a town to own up for what I just did. Kept my head high, I tell you what, giving them nothing more than a tip of the hat as I sauntered back into town. Author's Note The Road ends at HomeThat kiss. By the eight shoes of Sliepnir; that kiss. The sun further wanes. Celestia readies to end her glorious day for her midnight sister to take the reigns of heaven. A good day it was. The ache in my shoulders, breathes easier when the yoke is removed. With a shake, I can feel the day’s work upon me. An ache of good work fulfilled. As I have said; not a bad life for an earth stallion. My times with the Pillars continued on for a few more quests, often our paths crossing with the Elements, and of course; sweet Honesty. Our meetings grew more frequent as our bond grew stronger. Till one day, the road of valor and adventure seemed to have outstretched me, and instead I found myself yearning for the quiet life. In a small town, where there would be work to be done, and where somepony waited for me. It took more courage than I expected, far more than what it took to face the Fear Phantoms off the Horseshoe coast, or even facing the Rogue Dragon horde of Persephone isles. No. My demon was myself and my doubts. Our past endeavors strengthened our connections, or unintended night of bliss in one another’s embrace forged a spark, but to speak plainly? To tell her how I felt. How she made me feel like a was but a skinny whelp again, trembling in her presence. Friendship was scale of tipping, or treachery. An evening reunion at the Crystal Castle of Friendship was the place it happened. The Pillars and I came to meet with the Princess of Magic and her Elements about a matter of utmost importance. My enthusiasm was contained, but not enough fool the others as I caught them smirking at me, and my supposedly ‘chipper’ trot to the throne room. The Pillars came from one end just as the Elements came from another. Applejack the Honest was walking proudly with her friends. The most endearing blush cut through those sun kissed cheeks when our eyes met. It took a moment to recover from my own fluster, but through the haze I found the Crystal table to be set with dinner. Not unusual, the road was long a good meal with friends was welcome. What proved vexing at that moment was the placement. Set only for two, complete with candles. Odder still was how alone I suddenly felt on my side of the room. Turning back I was privy to a slew of winks and ‘kissy faces’ from my insidious comrades before the doors magically sealed me in. Treachery abounds it seemed, Honesty too was usurped by her own fellowship; complete with jibes. My co-victim in this sprung trap was none to pleased at being ‘hoodwinked’. The mare of the house Apple has a pair of lungs on her, let me tell you. I’ve heard valkyries bellow war cries into battle against the hordes of the Darklands, that pale in color and volume of what was said. Who knew many of them were the progeny of snakes and skunks? Jesting aside. We found ourselves in forced proximity and solitude with one another for the evening. With some begrudged hesitation we sat down to our meal and basked in each other’s company. It weren’t long before we shared old stories, but not of adventure or deeds done, but stories of ourselves, our true selves. Though a mare of family and homestead, she yearned to sail open the sea again, to explore even further past the shores to the open waters and the lands beyond. It brought to mind my old langskip, the great boat of the Helm I built from the oaks near the Anijor forest. It saddened me to think that it had no doubt been given away in my absence or worse, rotted away to mulch. It was sweet Honesty who put the pieces together and made an offer. She had the trees, I had the knowhow. A boat, new and pristine made from the great applewood of her livelihood. It would be altogether fitting in her eyes, until she looked sullen. Figuring I would be too busy on my adventures with my companions. No better segway was to be had, using it to its fullest I admitted I was ready to be done wandering, ready to focus on other things, not unlike ship building, or...farming perhaps. I admit I may have been a bit forward with that remark, but her speckled cheeks seemed to only glow in response to it. It was she who opened her door to me. Taking in a poor wanderer such as myself. At first it was just that. A room in exchange for services. Dare not impugn my honor with insinuation of impure acts! For true the work was honest. Plowing. Applebucking. Seeding. Sweet Yggdrasil, I impugn myself! I nearly broke the handle on the well pump as I bring my hoof down upon it, cooling my burning face. Let it be known, that proprietary held the day...for a time. But it wasn’t long before I went from resting my head in a guest bed to the prospect of sharing one with her in the homestead of her forebears. Ever the mare of honor, she insisted marriage first, to which I obliged. A rather unique switch on tradition even for my time, but from the start it was her fire that ensnared me. Preparations were made for our union. A simple ceremony, presided by the Pillars and the Elements together, in the hallowed orchard she loved so dear, under the very shade of the tree her own mother and father pledged there love. On that day I too pledge my own love and faithfulness for her, and she to me. Mine eyes, utterly lost in those eyes of emerald in the moonlight. Our DayAuthor's Note Here I almost forgot how to publish. Shame on me. Our Day I ain’t ever one to want to be the center of attention. I’m happy to play my part somewhere quiet and out of the way. Well, ‘cept for a good ol’ rodeo. A twinge in my back, mocks me a bit, reminding me that I ain’t no spring chicken anymore. ‘Hogwash to that.’ I say as I push through it, more keen to walk it off than let it get me down. The pigs are eager for the Apple cores and slop I give them, the empty bucket lighter in my grip. The sun has gone down and this should hold them over till the morning. In the distance I can hear the call of the crickets through the grass and Luna paints her veil. Ain't a night goes by that I'm not reminded of that... me of that day; standing up at that altar, in that simple white dress and my sweet beau standing before me. Shoot, the whole world could have fallen down around me and I wouldn’t have so much as flinched. Our wedding. Gosh, never thought I would have gone for such a thing. Never knew there would be anypony who would put up with me. Yet, the whole thing was magical, and despite the veritable sea of ponies that came to see us hitched, all I could think about was him. My Rockhoof. My husband. Just the thought of it rosies my cheeks to this day. Poor old boy looked mighty nervous even in that helmet he wore. Ceremonial garb of the Helm rattlin’ as he took my hoof. Looking over, ah see that the girls are all misty eyed, even Rainbow can’t help it. I still tease her about it, but I’d betray my element to say I didn’t feel a might choked up then. The walk up was the hardest. Part of the reason I never wanted the whole thing was that... Pa wouldn’t be there to walk me. Grand Pear was there with me though, and I was proud to have him do it. I could tell, it was just as hard for him too. I nearly broke. But my Rock was there, just as sturdy and just as happy to be there. The Mayor presided, as I wouldn’t have anypony else do the honor. When the ‘I do’s’ came though, all I felt was joy. Joy of the moment, and joy of what was to come. What followed was one heck of a shindig. Putting our weddin’ on the same day as the Apple Family Reunion was meant to take attention off of us and have this just be a small part of the festivities. Turns out, folk saw it as the very reason for celebratin’. Cider flowed for that whole night and when the sun came up it kept going. There was endless food, dancin’, songs, and each night Princess Luna treated us to an unmatched view of the heavens. The whole time, we hardly left each other’s sight. When the little ones of the party refused to rest, lest they miss more fun, it was my Rock that saved the day. It only took him a moment, after setting down in the grass, to lead the little ones into Luna's domain with a tale of fantastic adventure and wonder, with Pinkie Pie's Li'l Cheese settled in the massive crook of his fetlock. Seeing the big fella like that makes a mare swoon; we had some work to get to. It was on that second night, when folk started to filter out back to their homes that I whispered in his ear, something that took me almost a month to learn. ”Thoir mi dhan leabaidh agad agus dèan mise leatsa.” further punctuating the words with a nip at his chin. If the blush on his face wasn’t enough, the follow up of him sweeping me off my hooves was a good sign that I got it right. Only, we didn’t go back to the farmhouse. The scoundrel had other plans, taking me out to where the river was deepest off the farm. Much to my surprise, he had made good on his word to make a new boat for himself, and had done so in near solitude. Part of me was a might miffed that I was left out of this until he placed me down and said I was to be the captain. I gotta admit, that floored me. If that weren’t enough he then proceeded to tell me that the ship was casting off now and we were already packed. The girls, having played a role in this surprise, came forward to see us off, with a promise to help look after the farm while we were gone. To set sail, with the wind to our backs and nothing but the stars to guide us. An adventure of a Honeymoon. Sounded amazing. And it was. With me at the helm and he managing the oars and sails, we hit the open sea in a day. Sailing down the coast, hopping in between islands. Meeting knew ponies and creatures of all walks. Each night, we’d stand out on the decks and watch the stars before going below and...doing what newlyweds ought to do. We hit a rough patch here and there. Bad seas, scoundrels looking for trouble, him refusing to ask for directions. But through it all, I had my Rock, and he had me. When the time came, we set course back home. As much as I enjoyed being with my hubby on this long summer adventure, the orchard was calling me back. I am taken out of my warm and fuzzy memories with the bellow of a horn. It rumbles deep and low but enough to make my head tingle. I turn my head to the top of the hill and I’m rewarded with the sight of my stallion silhouetted in the glow of the setting sun. “Dang, I picked a good one.”
Honest WorkI stride the path. I keep it steady, but it weaves naturally in a wave around the shape of the land. I feel every stone, every hard patch of mud, but it all yields on to me in my stride. The yoke holds firm the plow parts the earth. I am Rockhoof, Shield bearer to the Mighty Helm, and the Pillar of Strength to old Equestria. Titles I hold with pride; mean nothing in this work. This honest work. I can’t help but smirk to myself at the realization that despite this lack of excitement, this is not a bad life for an Earth stallion at’all. It has been a over a thousand moons since the Pillars and I were set into our enchanted vigil over the darkness. So much has changed in the land we once called home. Even my old village, barely recognizable to mine eyes. Still, I find comfort in the glimmers that come to the surface. It is in the faces of these new country folk, I see it. Flashes of culture and tradition, as well as the sturdiness of their forebears that would do their ancestors proud in this new world they made for themselves. But the land? The rock, the very soil itself? It remains the same. A familiar calling that only the Earthen tribe can truly understand. The construction of the tall metal and stone structures compare little to that of the wonders the good earth provides. It is here I hath found myself yet again in this, the ‘modern’ age. The morning hath waned to early afternoon, and though I have been at this task for hours, my mettle remains stalwart and my strength holds true. Taking a moment from my labors, I survey the bounty they hath brought. Row upon row, of well plowed fields. Neatly and primmly waiting to be cultivated by loving hooves, to grow strong and true. To cover this new world in an all too familiar green. A swell of pride takes me, in this purest of trades. Not a month past was this but a tangled assortment of rocks and scraggly trees. The task of clearing the forest was done with care and thought, no heedless smashing, no desecration. Rocks crushed to manageable stone for the neat wall around it. Lumber stocked and cut, for the upcoming winter, with the following winter to be covered as well. Stumps likewise removed and given to those with the passion and the artisan skill to mold them into a new form, be it furniture or other craft. Though I sweat, the heavy band upon my brow diverts the stream of exertion from my sight. With a shake of my long mane I cast beads of toil about, returning it to nurture the very ground in which I work, and thus making our bond that much stronger. To the north, I see the vast expanse of green that will soon mirror what I make now. Row upon row of Apple trees. Apple. Ambrosia of old, a symbol of nourishment then as it remains now. But for me a reminder of where my newly awoken life hath led me. Not long after the defeat of the pony of Shadows, and our reconciliation with good Stygian, did I set out with the other Pillars to discover what wonders this new world had to offer. Adventures anew were had, stories of our feats were etched into long-unused memory, and new songs to be sung for the new halls of the royal court as well as the mead houses of today, or ‘coffee shops’ as they say. Still, there were times I found myself lost in this new world. When the path of the Pillars brought us back to the Kingdom of Friendship; back to our comrades and descendents, the Elements of Harmony. A ragtag bunch of mares, only equal to ourselves in our unique fellowship, I would imagine. ‘Twas only natural for us to find kinship with them and their ilk. But ‘twas Honesty what bewitched me. Strength she had, not unlike my own, but a strength of heart and spirit is what alighted me to her from the moment I laid eyes upon her. Though a mountain of a stallion I am now, I lived much of my life as but scrawny whelp. ‘Tis’ no shame in being one if one had the grit and savvy to speak one's mind, but old habits do tend to carry over. But perhaps that worked in my favor. Upon our return to humble town of Ponyville, Pinkamena Pie of Laughter, took it upon herself to organize a night of merrymaking for the lot of us. Starswirl, the old billy goat as he was, attempted to head her off. The pink precocious one would not be denied as one by one, she soon conscripted myself, Flash, Mist, Somm, Meadow, even Stygian to her cause. The old codger soon had little choice to partake in the festivities, and in turn that soon spilled out into the streets. A ‘block’ party as they call it. All of the citizens of Ponyville, young and old, rich and poor, celebrating the reunion of the champions, old and new. One could not help but feel the warmth in the very streets that night. It would on its own been intoxicating enough, but old habits die hard as well. The memories of my folly to the mighty Cherufe, then likewise temporary expulsion from the Helm may have been centuries ago, but tis a failure that still has bite on me. ‘Tis why, when a drinking contest was laid before me, I politely declined. Then came Honesty. Applejack of Honesty. Generations of good and dependable mares and stallions shone true in those emerald eyes, as did their unmistakable sense of pride. The greave cast against me, I set aside my fear of shaming my namesake for the opportunity to show this young filly how pride could get you into trouble. ‘Twas a teachable moment, as Starswirl would say. Now, one should know, the modern taste of drink does little to compare to the now antique pallet I doth possess. I hath lost count of the draft, but judging by the others stallions and mares about, it must of been more than a little. Yet, sweet Honesty, held her wits, and her drink strong, even if the redness in her speckled cheeks said otherwise. Another draft came and went. Than another. I can’t be sure what happened between that and the next, but I do know I was the victor in the contest. The next waking memory was sunrise. In a bed not my own, to sight of a golden haired goddess laying pressed to my chest. Applejack of Honesty, I imagine awoke with the similar shock to the sight of myself. As awkward as it should of been I couldn’t help but shake the sense of serenity in being with her. I hath caught the eyes of more than a few of the members of the fairer sex; by my spade, after a few glasses of her favorite wine even Mistmane would attest to the pleasence of my form. Still, back then my sights had always been set upon the road, adventure, and standing with the Pillars. Even in this time, I had felt lingering eyes upon me, passes of fancy being brought to me. I paid them no heed. But in that moment? In that moment, I wondered. Did she feel the same? Bah. Listen to me. Waxing like a bard of thoughts of fancy when there is work to be done. Daylight waits for one, and I am not she, I return to the pull of the yoke. But I would be fooling myself if my face didn’t betray a hint of what my heart felt as a came to the next bend. Author's Note I used to be a shipper like you, till I took a Rockhoof to the AJ. Enjoy! Applejack perspective next
Happy TrailsWaking up with a headache and a sick stomach ain’t enough to stop me. Too much work to be done. Too many ponies counting on me. I’d sooner hang up my hat then let folk think Applejack was a belly acher. Besides, once I got going, and out into that crisp air, I was right at rain. Usual chores to be done: The pigs needed sloppin’, the milk was being sent off to the dairy now. Regular wear and tear around the farm? Refreshed and mended. That left me with a bit of breathing room. Not much. But enough to kick up my heels and take a jonce about the homestead. Like an old friend, the orchard was calling to me. Long rows of trees stand tall and strong, their roots holding deep to the earth to reap a great bounty come the falling of the leaves. Quiet moments like this is what gets me out of bed. What gets me out of bed every morning. A familiar flutter in my stomach reminds me that those times may be numbered. With Macintosh off to start his own orchard, and likewise his own family out east, the burden of the farm felt heavier on me. Applebloom was practically a mare now and though she would stay on if I asked her, I would much rather she explore and come to her own conclusion on what she wanted. Be it here, or out in the wide world. There was always Granny and Grand Pear, but each season brought them more aches and a few more pains that kept them out of the fields, though they would be too stubborn to admit it. To me or to each other. So that left me. Yet, despite the farm being in the midst of a great shift, I still felt at peace. The work that was to be done, got done. The wolf was seldom at the door (that’s the bank I’m referring to) and the perils of the Everfree still held back (actual wolves and then some.) It probably had a large part to do with that very night and what came the morning after. Hah! I woke up at the crack of dawn that morning, head splitting, yet ready to mosey. Yet, when the night came back to me... Pa had always told fanciful stories of Rockhoof the Strong since I was old enough for pigtails, and you bet your biscuits I’ll pass them on. But imagine actually getting to meet the legend himself? Now imagine waking up with him in your bed, with his arms around you. The party. The contest (that I won). Then...the ‘after party’. Poor colt didn’t stand a chance against my sturdy pallet, must of invited him back to look after him, only to ‘look after him’ in the process. I remember just laying there, feeling his body all around me. I have never now, nor ever been the kind of gal who needed to be cuddled, though I am more than happy to give it out to a friend or family in need. But this feeling, the warmth of his body, the steady breathing, the smell of him. A mare could get used to that. Didn’t have much time to dwell on it as he began to stir. It was then that a twinge of panic began to set in. I mean, what does one say to a friend in this situation? I think I may have settled for a ‘Howdy’ come to think of it. His reaction weren’t much better, ‘zounds’ or something. The old boy, was ever the gentle colt as a filly would hope, but was redder than a Gala all the way to his ears. We spoke about what happened. Mended fences, agreeing that things were still ‘okay’ between us and neither of us shared any less respect for one another for our transgressions. Hadn’t tried to sneak a stallion out of the house since I was sixteen, and now I had do so with one the size of two combined. To his credit, Rock was light on his hooves. Made it all the way to the porch before getting caught. Granny had been ‘waitin’ fer the paper’ but that smug grin on her face told a different story. Chores were a breeze that morning. I was only a little sore...from the cider...mostly the cider. Ahem. Anyhow; the girls and I were gonna see the Pillars off before they hit the road again and I didnt want to be late. Walking into Twi’s castle, I took my place at the map. From across the way, Dash didn’t resist smirking at me for what happened, even caught Shy giggling a bit at my expense. My hat proved an adequate tool for avoiding their gaze. Pinkie on the other hoof, had this odd compulsion of stacking a rock on top of an apple and giving me weird looks. Must be a rock farmer thing, I reckoned. Mercifully, the Pillars were ready to move out again by eight that morning. Good old Ponyville, just as friendly in its welcoming was just as kind enough to see them off to. Following Twilight’s lead we too said our goodbyes. When it came time though? Shoot. I just didn’t want Rockhoof to leave. I kept it to myself, gave him a hoof bump, and wished him-all of them, happy trails. That should of been enough. But it weren’t. Not a stone's throw away later did I let my hooves take over. Walked right up to him, pulled him down to me, and kissed him full on the lips. “Hoo-weeee.” Is all I will say about that. Old boy, looked shocked for a moment before he smiled and pulled me into a kiss of his own. World stood still for bit. After finally pulling ourselves apart, and I gave him a playful smack to the mark, I was ready to send him off. Of course I then had to face a gaggle of slack jawed friends, a Dragon, and a town to own up for what I just did. Kept my head high, I tell you what, giving them nothing more than a tip of the hat as I sauntered back into town. Author's Note
The Road ends at HomeThat kiss. By the eight shoes of Sliepnir; that kiss. The sun further wanes. Celestia readies to end her glorious day for her midnight sister to take the reigns of heaven. A good day it was. The ache in my shoulders, breathes easier when the yoke is removed. With a shake, I can feel the day’s work upon me. An ache of good work fulfilled. As I have said; not a bad life for an earth stallion. My times with the Pillars continued on for a few more quests, often our paths crossing with the Elements, and of course; sweet Honesty. Our meetings grew more frequent as our bond grew stronger. Till one day, the road of valor and adventure seemed to have outstretched me, and instead I found myself yearning for the quiet life. In a small town, where there would be work to be done, and where somepony waited for me. It took more courage than I expected, far more than what it took to face the Fear Phantoms off the Horseshoe coast, or even facing the Rogue Dragon horde of Persephone isles. No. My demon was myself and my doubts. Our past endeavors strengthened our connections, or unintended night of bliss in one another’s embrace forged a spark, but to speak plainly? To tell her how I felt. How she made me feel like a was but a skinny whelp again, trembling in her presence. Friendship was scale of tipping, or treachery. An evening reunion at the Crystal Castle of Friendship was the place it happened. The Pillars and I came to meet with the Princess of Magic and her Elements about a matter of utmost importance. My enthusiasm was contained, but not enough fool the others as I caught them smirking at me, and my supposedly ‘chipper’ trot to the throne room. The Pillars came from one end just as the Elements came from another. Applejack the Honest was walking proudly with her friends. The most endearing blush cut through those sun kissed cheeks when our eyes met. It took a moment to recover from my own fluster, but through the haze I found the Crystal table to be set with dinner. Not unusual, the road was long a good meal with friends was welcome. What proved vexing at that moment was the placement. Set only for two, complete with candles. Odder still was how alone I suddenly felt on my side of the room. Turning back I was privy to a slew of winks and ‘kissy faces’ from my insidious comrades before the doors magically sealed me in. Treachery abounds it seemed, Honesty too was usurped by her own fellowship; complete with jibes. My co-victim in this sprung trap was none to pleased at being ‘hoodwinked’. The mare of the house Apple has a pair of lungs on her, let me tell you. I’ve heard valkyries bellow war cries into battle against the hordes of the Darklands, that pale in color and volume of what was said. Who knew many of them were the progeny of snakes and skunks? Jesting aside. We found ourselves in forced proximity and solitude with one another for the evening. With some begrudged hesitation we sat down to our meal and basked in each other’s company. It weren’t long before we shared old stories, but not of adventure or deeds done, but stories of ourselves, our true selves. Though a mare of family and homestead, she yearned to sail open the sea again, to explore even further past the shores to the open waters and the lands beyond. It brought to mind my old langskip, the great boat of the Helm I built from the oaks near the Anijor forest. It saddened me to think that it had no doubt been given away in my absence or worse, rotted away to mulch. It was sweet Honesty who put the pieces together and made an offer. She had the trees, I had the knowhow. A boat, new and pristine made from the great applewood of her livelihood. It would be altogether fitting in her eyes, until she looked sullen. Figuring I would be too busy on my adventures with my companions. No better segway was to be had, using it to its fullest I admitted I was ready to be done wandering, ready to focus on other things, not unlike ship building, or...farming perhaps. I admit I may have been a bit forward with that remark, but her speckled cheeks seemed to only glow in response to it. It was she who opened her door to me. Taking in a poor wanderer such as myself. At first it was just that. A room in exchange for services. Dare not impugn my honor with insinuation of impure acts! For true the work was honest. Plowing. Applebucking. Seeding. Sweet Yggdrasil, I impugn myself! I nearly broke the handle on the well pump as I bring my hoof down upon it, cooling my burning face. Let it be known, that proprietary held the day...for a time. But it wasn’t long before I went from resting my head in a guest bed to the prospect of sharing one with her in the homestead of her forebears. Ever the mare of honor, she insisted marriage first, to which I obliged. A rather unique switch on tradition even for my time, but from the start it was her fire that ensnared me. Preparations were made for our union. A simple ceremony, presided by the Pillars and the Elements together, in the hallowed orchard she loved so dear, under the very shade of the tree her own mother and father pledged there love. On that day I too pledge my own love and faithfulness for her, and she to me. Mine eyes, utterly lost in those eyes of emerald in the moonlight.
Our DayAuthor's Note Here I almost forgot how to publish. Shame on me. Our Day I ain’t ever one to want to be the center of attention. I’m happy to play my part somewhere quiet and out of the way. Well, ‘cept for a good ol’ rodeo. A twinge in my back, mocks me a bit, reminding me that I ain’t no spring chicken anymore. ‘Hogwash to that.’ I say as I push through it, more keen to walk it off than let it get me down. The pigs are eager for the Apple cores and slop I give them, the empty bucket lighter in my grip. The sun has gone down and this should hold them over till the morning. In the distance I can hear the call of the crickets through the grass and Luna paints her veil. Ain't a night goes by that I'm not reminded of that... me of that day; standing up at that altar, in that simple white dress and my sweet beau standing before me. Shoot, the whole world could have fallen down around me and I wouldn’t have so much as flinched. Our wedding. Gosh, never thought I would have gone for such a thing. Never knew there would be anypony who would put up with me. Yet, the whole thing was magical, and despite the veritable sea of ponies that came to see us hitched, all I could think about was him. My Rockhoof. My husband. Just the thought of it rosies my cheeks to this day. Poor old boy looked mighty nervous even in that helmet he wore. Ceremonial garb of the Helm rattlin’ as he took my hoof. Looking over, ah see that the girls are all misty eyed, even Rainbow can’t help it. I still tease her about it, but I’d betray my element to say I didn’t feel a might choked up then. The walk up was the hardest. Part of the reason I never wanted the whole thing was that... Pa wouldn’t be there to walk me. Grand Pear was there with me though, and I was proud to have him do it. I could tell, it was just as hard for him too. I nearly broke. But my Rock was there, just as sturdy and just as happy to be there. The Mayor presided, as I wouldn’t have anypony else do the honor. When the ‘I do’s’ came though, all I felt was joy. Joy of the moment, and joy of what was to come. What followed was one heck of a shindig. Putting our weddin’ on the same day as the Apple Family Reunion was meant to take attention off of us and have this just be a small part of the festivities. Turns out, folk saw it as the very reason for celebratin’. Cider flowed for that whole night and when the sun came up it kept going. There was endless food, dancin’, songs, and each night Princess Luna treated us to an unmatched view of the heavens. The whole time, we hardly left each other’s sight. When the little ones of the party refused to rest, lest they miss more fun, it was my Rock that saved the day. It only took him a moment, after setting down in the grass, to lead the little ones into Luna's domain with a tale of fantastic adventure and wonder, with Pinkie Pie's Li'l Cheese settled in the massive crook of his fetlock. Seeing the big fella like that makes a mare swoon; we had some work to get to. It was on that second night, when folk started to filter out back to their homes that I whispered in his ear, something that took me almost a month to learn. ”Thoir mi dhan leabaidh agad agus dèan mise leatsa.” further punctuating the words with a nip at his chin. If the blush on his face wasn’t enough, the follow up of him sweeping me off my hooves was a good sign that I got it right. Only, we didn’t go back to the farmhouse. The scoundrel had other plans, taking me out to where the river was deepest off the farm. Much to my surprise, he had made good on his word to make a new boat for himself, and had done so in near solitude. Part of me was a might miffed that I was left out of this until he placed me down and said I was to be the captain. I gotta admit, that floored me. If that weren’t enough he then proceeded to tell me that the ship was casting off now and we were already packed. The girls, having played a role in this surprise, came forward to see us off, with a promise to help look after the farm while we were gone. To set sail, with the wind to our backs and nothing but the stars to guide us. An adventure of a Honeymoon. Sounded amazing. And it was. With me at the helm and he managing the oars and sails, we hit the open sea in a day. Sailing down the coast, hopping in between islands. Meeting knew ponies and creatures of all walks. Each night, we’d stand out on the decks and watch the stars before going below and...doing what newlyweds ought to do. We hit a rough patch here and there. Bad seas, scoundrels looking for trouble, him refusing to ask for directions. But through it all, I had my Rock, and he had me. When the time came, we set course back home. As much as I enjoyed being with my hubby on this long summer adventure, the orchard was calling me back. I am taken out of my warm and fuzzy memories with the bellow of a horn. It rumbles deep and low but enough to make my head tingle. I turn my head to the top of the hill and I’m rewarded with the sight of my stallion silhouetted in the glow of the setting sun. “Dang, I picked a good one.”
