The world seemed dark. That might be because it was night. Applejack felt there was more to it than that.
Noises filled the Western Fields: frogs and their noisy chirps, fruit bats fluttering about, the occasional call of an owl. She listened to it all, trying to let the clamor of nature distract her. Yet no matter how eager the critters’ efforts, they weren’t able to overpower the niggling worries. Keeping the back of her head pressed to the wood of the old gazebo, Applejack raised her phone to stare at a blank screen. Her thumb shifted as if to touch it, paused, slipped back into place.
“It’s stupid,” she whispered, brushing her fingers under her eyes to get rid of the moisture. “You’re bein’ stupid.” Her eyes closed. A redheaded, ghostly apparition drifted into view, happy and brilliant and oh-so-unaware of the work collar it had dropped on Applejack’s skull. She’d tried to bear its weight. It had held her in this spot for a few hours now.
Her eyes opened to find the gazebo illuminated by the electronic torch that was her phone. She squinted against the brightness, eyes locking on the displayed time. A low groan left her throat. Should she go back home? No… yes. No.
She swallowed. The act did little to ease her dry throat. She flicked through menus, intentionally avoiding the shortcuts, buying herself time to back out. She would. She’d done it a dozen times already. There’s no way she’d pull it off this time. And that was for the better. It was all in her head, after all. Her stupid head, not smart enough to—
The screen shifted to signal the outgoing call, and Applejack felt her blood freeze. The quiet ringing from the speakers seemed to overpower every sound the orchard could make. Slowly, her stomach an empty void, she set the phone to her ear and waited. Don’t pick up. Don’t pick up…
A weary Sunset Shimmer spoke. “Hello? AJ?”
Applejack’s thoughts scattered in a million directions. She jerked upright with a curse that seemed horribly loud despite the whisper of it. “I woke y’all up. I-I shouldn’t have… Crud, I’m sorry, I’ll just—” She pulled the phone from her ear and ended the call. “Stupid. Stupid. Why did you do that, AJ? Got rotten apples for brains.” She almost dropped the phone when it buzzed. A picture of Sunset and herself posing for a selfie at the beach came up with Sunset’s name overlaid on top. Swiftly, as if wary of being stung, Applejack set the phone on the gazebo’s table and leaned as far back as she could.
The buzz, buzz, buzz continued. She crossed her arms, uncrossed them, bit her lip, bit her thumb. “Don’t make me answer, Sunny. Don’t you make me…” On and on it went, ignorant of the calls of the wild and the stars glistening overhead. Applejack wanted to run all the way back to the house. For all her squirming and self-directed curses and twisting insides, she was rooted to the spot. At last, the buzzing ceased.
She relaxed, only for guilt to wash over her. “Shoulda answered, ya coward.” With a sigh, she reached for the phone.
Which lit up just before she could touch it. A background of yellow and red flowers overlaid by a similarly colored, familiar sun. Words appeared beneath it. “AJ, what’s wrong?”
Slowly, as though to avoid frightening a dangerous creature, Applejack pulled her hand back.
The phone buzzed once. Twice. “Come on, talk to me.
“You wouldn’t wake me up at two in the morning for no reason.”
Applejack ran a hand down her face with a groan. “Lands’ sakes, I’m stupid.”
The phone went back to that regular buzzing, indicating an incoming call. One hand quivering in front of her mouth, the other arm wrapped about her stomach, Applejack watched the device in jittery anticipation. Her stomach twisted a little more. She couldn’t be sure she’d ever screwed up this badly before. She needed a solution, but what? Maybe if she ignored it for long enough…
The incoming call stopped, only for a new text to come through. Applejack kept her back pressed firmly to the wooden pole she’d been leaning against for the last few hours, willing herself not to read whatever was on that little screen. With every fresh buzz, she found her eyes darting to it once more. “Please, stop. Please…” At last she snatched up the phone.
“This isn’t like you, AJ.
“You woke me up. You’re goin talk to me.
“Please, tell me what’s wrong.
“You’re staring to scare me.
“Applejack?”
The ice from before crept back into Applejack’s veins. Her eyes kept shifting between two words: ‘goin’ and ‘staring’. Sunset had messed up her spelling. Sunset. Only Twilight Sparkle was more fastidious about correct spelling even in texts. Another quiet curse left her as she realized just how bad her screwup was. A third, louder one came out of her, because this was not a problem that would go away on its own. And yet the solutions… there were no solutions. She was too stupid to think of any.
The phone vibrated, and she jerked it to her face to read the next line. “If you don’t pickup this time, I’m heading oer there.” The phone promptly began its regular buzzing routine.
She moaned, she whined, she rubbed her temple and fought back a sob. Finally, after nearly a dozen buzzes, she tapped the screen and put the phone to her ear. “P-please don’t.” She winced at how her voice cracked.
There was no weariness in Sunset’s words this time. Her tone was alert, revealing relief and worry in equal measure. “Applejack? Hey, what’s going on?” There was a plea in there, desiring not so much to know but to be helpful. Applejack couldn’t help but smile at that oh-so-typically Sunset trait.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, leaning heavily against the table and staring out at the shadows of apple trees. “This was a mistake, I didn’t mean… I mean I did but—” Too fast. She was talking before her brain could form words. Closing her eyes, she took a few deep breaths and tried to think.
“This isn’t a mistake.”
Sunset somehow managed to escape all the fear in her voice with just a few words. Confidence. She knew how to pull it out at moments of crisis. Applejack thought this qualified.
“Talk to me, AJ. You wouldn’t have called me if you didn’t need to.”
Yes, that was true. Was this not the entire reason Applejack had walked out of dinner with her family, walked all the way to the Western Field, and spent the last several hours fidgeting and fretting and staring at her phone beneath the gazebo? She pressed her hand to her face. Closed her eyes.
“Just breathe, AJ. Breathe and calm down. I’m not going anywhere. Tell me when you’re ready. Just don’t hang up, alright?”
Don’t hang up. Yes, good. Don’t hang up. Ignore that urge like a jagged knife in the brain telling her to do that. It wouldn’t help anyone. Not her. Not Sunset. Not that Sunset needed help. Sunset was perfect. She was going…
Going home.
The words slipped out of Applejack’s mouth. “Please, don’t…”
A long pause.
“Applejack?”
She took one last, deep breath, swallowed what little was left of her pride, and fought to keep her voice from cracking. “I don’t want you to go to Equestria.”
She expected anger. Maybe some shouting. The last thing she anticipated was confusion.
“Okay. No Equestria. Why, did something happen?”
That wasn’t right. She didn’t understand. Why didn’t she understand? This was supposed to go by quickly. Applejack needed it to be over with so she could stop thinking about it. “N-no, nothing. I just…”
Silence lingered in the cool night air. Applejack tried to think through the crickets and the frogs. Her eyes drifted to that spot opposite her, a spot once occupied by her not-quite-girlfriend at the time. She remembered a nervous, fearful Sunset who so desperately wanted love. Applejack had never dreamed she’d be in the same boat.
Concern once again lined Sunset’s voice. “You’ve got to talk to me, AJ. I’m supposed to leave tomorrow. No, today. I need to know why this is so important.”
“I—” Applejack’s treacherous throat worked against her. She stood up, started pacing a circle around the gazebo’s table. The world beyond it was so dark, like it might swallow her up if she dared step off the old wooden floor. When her voice finally functioned she wasted no time using it. “Three months in Equestria, right? Three whole months.”
“That’s right. It’s not permanent. I’ll come back.”
Applejack paused at the stairs, chewing a little on her thumb and staring at the stars. “I-Isn’t that too long?”
“Too long?” A hint of impatience had wormed its way into Sunset’s voice. “You didn’t have a problem with it before.”
No, no she hadn’t. But that was before, when she hadn’t recognized all the potential consequences. So much to do, so much to see.
So many ponies to meet. She slipped her hand over her mouth and clenched her eyes tightly closed.
“Are you… crying?”
“I ain’t crying.” She rubbed her eyes with the back of her wrist. “I just… Y-you once told me you were a pony.”
“You’re crying. Applejack, what’s wrong?”
The desperation in that query wrenched Applejack’s heart out, making her feel like a cored apple. She leaned heavily against the standing beam by the stairs and silently cursed her weakness. “I d-don’t know. Nothing. Everything! I know it’s only three months and I know it’s important to Princess Twilight and I know y’all been lookin’ forward to it. I was cool with it, I was. It seemed alright at the time.” Stupid tears. She wiped them away once more.
“So what changed?” The patience returned to Sunset’s voice. It swam over Applejack like a soothing wave of water. If she imagined hard enough, she could almost feel her girlfriend hugging her from behind, just like she’d be doing if she were really there. Sunset was big on hugs. Applejack was too… when they came from Sunset.
“My stupid head started workin’,” she muttered, sinking down to sit on the top step, hunched over and shivering in a cool breeze. “I thought about ‘us’ before. Where we come from, where we’re goin’. I’ve had my happy ideas. But now all I can think about is… is the downs. I feel like a rotten apple, Sunny, because all my thinkin’s rotten too.”
The line went quiet for a while, interrupted only by faint background noises she could barely make out. She kept her mouth firmly closed, wary of making any more of a fool of herself than she already had. Sunset’s silence sent little tingles of anxiety down her body, but she wouldn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Even as she internally begged for that warm, confident voice to save her from the mess she’d put herself in, she refused to speak.
At last, Sunset answered her fervent prayers. “Alright, I’m listening. Walk me through it, okay? Whatever you need to say, AJ. Don’t hold back.”
Don’t hold back? And make things worse? “Easy for you to say,” she mumbled. If Sunset took any offense… but then she wouldn’t, would she? Sunset was perfect. “You remember the night we started dating?”
There was a light, pleasant hum in her ear. It sent an entirely different tingle down her spine, one that was almost enough to bring a smile back to her face. “How could I forget? The gazebo, the stars, the apple pie we made together. That was an awesome night.”
“Y-yeah, it was.” Applejack could picture it so easily, like it had happened yesterday rather than a year ago. Sunset had been so… flighty. Anxious. Self-conscious. How the tables had turned… “You told me then that you’re a… a pony. I mean, you’re human now, but on the inside, you’re a pony. Right?” Another gentle hum was the only response. “And ponies, ponies like you? You crave affection. O-or somethin’ like that?”
“Did I not give you all the details behind that?” To Applejack’s silence, Sunset explained, “Yes, ponies are affectionate. We grew out of herds, thousands of pre-Equestrian ponies moving together, living together, sleeping together. It was how we survived back before we became intelligent and independent, and that aspect of our existence lingers. That need to be close to others, to always have some sense of affection and belonging? It’s part of all ponies’ psyche.”
It made sense, or so Applejack supposed. And Sunset had shown no qualms about being affectionate. She’d jumped into their relationship feet first. It had nearly smothered Applejack in the first few months. Sunset had been, in a word, needy. And Applejack… “I’m not like that, am I?” She’d tried to put a little less emotion into the query, but it came out a sad whine.
She could see Sunset fidgeting in her mind’s eye. “Well, no. But I never asked you to be. I was just happy that I didn’t scare you off after a while.”
Applejack almost commented that she was too tough for that, but bit her tongue. After all, a tough person wouldn’t be where she was now, would she? Instead, she stared out at the darkness once more, teeth dragging gently along the knuckles of two of her fingers as she thought on her answer. “I… I admit, ya were a bit overwhelming. At first. B-but now it’s one of the things I like about ya.”
Sunset spoke in a dry tone. “I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming.”
A small smile crept its way onto Applejack’s lips. That girl knew her pretty well by now, didn’t she? “But, now I wonder about the problems. What if I can’t keep up? What if you want more than I can offer? Let’s even go beyond the pony stuff. What if I’m not smart enough, not good enough?”
“Applejack—”
“You’re so ambitious. You wanna do things. I just wanna be a farm girl. Am I draggin’ you down? What the hay have I got that makes me at all worthy of all your… all your you? I know that’s a crummy way to put it, but seriously, there’s no other way. It’s all the you. The Sunset Shimmer. She’s just so much better, and I’m—”
“Stop it.” Sunset spoke firmly, though her voice remained quiet over the phone. “You stop that right now. Don’t you ever think you’re not good enough.”
That brought out a feeble, choked laugh from Applejack. She covered her face with a hand and tried to keep it from becoming a sob. “Th-there you go again. Bein’ Sunset Shimmer. So confident, knowin’ just what to do in an instant. And look at me, I’m barely hangin’ on.”
“As if you’re never confident? Applejack, you’re—”
“Three months.” With a ragged breath, Applejack took control just enough to keep her eyes and throat clear, though both burned like fire. “Three months without me there. Three months as a proper pony amongst ponies. Those affectionate ponies. As an affectionate pony. Three months and I’m not there.” Back to chewing on her thumb, eyes closed tight and body hunched. Her chin was almost touching her knees. “I f-feel like one of those needy, sissy fruitcakes in one of Rarity’s crummy romances.”
Another long silence, this time bloated with the tension of her biggest fear at last brought out in the open. She was tempted to hang up, to not face Sunset’s judgement. Eventually, she’d respond, and they’d both have to acknowledge that, deep down, Applejack didn’t trust her. That’s what this was really about, wasn’t it? She just wanted to curl up in a ball and wallow in her guilt. Applejack always thought she’d be better than that. Better than this. But here she was, trembling and paranoid and wishing she’d never made this dumb phone call.
“I want you to stay right there.” There was something different about Sunset’s voice. Something firm. Final.
It took Applejack a few precious seconds to realize the meaning, and a fresh ball of ice formed in her gut. “Y-you can’t come here. Now. I mean, it’s two in the mornin’, and y’all got a journey to take tomorrow.”
“I’ve got an entirely different journey in mind now, and it’s far more important. Stay.” As if in afterthought, she added, “Don’t make me call Big Mac and tell him to hold you down.”
Applejack didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Fleeing into the orchard to live as a hermit seemed an enticing third option. “Whatever you wanna say to me, you can over the ph-phone.”
“No, I can’t. Not this. Don’t. Move.”
Sunset hung up, and Applejack stared at her phone with a steadily growing sense of dread. This was it, wasn’t it? She’d acted like a fool, and now Sunset was going to break up with her. Her hands shook, fingers raised to hit the redial button. But no matter how hard she tried, she just… couldn’t… do it. A feeble cry left her as she tossed the device over her shoulder, letting it get lost in the dark. Her heart might as well have been run through a juicer. It seemed like the only option left to her was to press her forehead to her knees and weep, so that’s exactly what she did.
What a pathetic sight she must have been, wailing into her arms like a child. The forest sounds disappeared, the creatures of the orchard going silent in deference to her misery. Or maybe not deference. Maybe they were watching and the silence was meant to be a mockery. Not that she deserved any less. After all, this was her fault. If she’d just held it in, not made that damn phone call, not revealed her inner fears…
Sunset would leave for Equestria. And without Applejack’s sorry hide to worry about, she’d be free to stay as long as she wanted. Free to be a pony, to make pony friends, to have some pony affection. And Applejack would stay on her farm, forever thinking about the night she screwed up so royally on the best thing to have ever happened to her. She’d become an old spinster woman, watching while Big Mac and Apple Bloom made their own families and took over the farm and lived happy, joyful, meaningful lives. And she’d have to watch. She’d be like Rarity, living out her romances through them. Except Rarity still had a good chance at finding the real thing whereas Applejack didn’t because she was nothing but a big, dumb, Grade-A screwup.
“Stop it,” she hissed, rubbing furiously at her eyes. “S-stop it. Y’all’re better than this.” Her breath hitched in her stinging throat. The tears kept coming. “Darn it, Applejack, you’ve been through b-breakups before!”
But not like this. Never like this. She’d never felt this gaping hole inside, never felt such a hideous sense of finality.
“T’ain’t fair,” she mumbled through her sniffles, giving up on her eyes and setting her chin to her knees. “Why’d I even think I stood a chance with a girl like that, anyway?” Maybe it would have been better if she’d denied Sunset outright a year ago. It wouldn’t have been the right thing, but if it meant avoiding all of this… She couldn’t have. There were too many happy memories for it to not have been.
The first time Sunset kicked down an apple. She’d done this cute little bounce, her face beaming as she held the fruit high like some adventurer displaying the prize at the end of an epic quest. She’d been so embarrassed to admit that the jump was some unintended imitation of a pronk. Wow, but her cheeks had lit up at the confession.
The frustrating all-nighters spent cramming for finals. Sunset hadn’t even been in that class. But she pulled out all the stops, learning the material herself and constantly coaching Applejack just to make sure she pulled through. She never would have passed without Sunset’s confidence and devotion.
That time Sunset surprised her with her very first personally made, no-help-required apple pie. She was covered in flour and batter, but the pie was delicious. Applejack had seen fit to reward her with their first kiss. She passed a finger across her lips, only the faintest touch, just like that first time. The times after were rarely so soft, but none like the first. She could still taste the dough…
She lingered in her memories, clinging to them for what seemed an eternity. Why go back to the house? Sunset would get there eventually. Nobody knew where she was. At least here, at the gazebo where the first memory could be found, she was safe from the finality. Sunset wouldn’t come all the way out here. Wouldn’t think to. Surely. Not for the sake of breaking up with her dumb country bumpkin ex-girlfriend. So Applejack just sat there, listening to the crickets and frogs and owls while chasing memories.
Then there came a new sound through the orchard. An engine, noisy and familiar. The four-wheeler. Must be Big Mac coming to check on her. Maybe if she ignored him he’d get the picture and go away.
It was several minutes before the vehicle came to a stop, its headlights washing over the gazebo from behind her. Applejack didn’t look up, hunching a little more tightly into her ball and pressing her forehead harder against her knees. Big Mac didn’t need to see her crying. The headlights died in her peripheral vision along with the engine. Grass crunched as he approached. Or… not him? Those steps weren’t her brother’s.
A sinking dread anchored her to the floor. She closed her eyes tight and grit her teeth, fighting back against the force trying to break out of her throat. The words were coming. Sunset would say them and it would all become real. Why did she have to be so cruel? Coming all the way out here just to take the jagged pieces of Applejack’s heart and grind them up a little more?
“I thought I’d find you here.”
Applejack flinched away, silently cursing herself for the whimper. This was it, then. She’d shown her weakness. Might as well… “Just get it over with.” She waited, sniffing with her nose pressed to her knee, eye glaring at the floorboards and away from Sunset. No words came. What was Sunset doing? Letting her fester?
Sunset’s words were softer than the night. “I never thought I’d ever see you so…”
When she lingered, Applejack felt the bubbling cauldron within threaten to overflow. “So what? Pathetic? Needy? Angry and confused and so… so…” Her hands balled into fists as she fought the foul words back down her throat.
“Vulnerable.”
Applejack nearly lost it again, tears starting to run their familiar paths down her cheeks despite her fervent effort to maintain calm. “S-so what if I’m vulnerable?” It was a petulant, weak response, but she couldn’t come up with anything better.
There came the recognizable clunking of Sunset’s boots on the wood. An arm wrapped about Applejack’s shoulder, squeezing her close. “It’s okay, AJ. Even you can be vulnerable sometimes.”
Applejack glanced at the hand on her shoulder, trying not to think about how good it felt to have the woman pressed against her side. “You ain’t gotta fake it or nothin’,” she muttered through the hitch in her chest. “Y’all wanna go, just go.”
Instead, Sunset held her all the more tightly. “I’m not going anywhere. I told Twilight the Study Tour would have to wait.”
“You did what?” At last, Applejack turned to her, unable to take this news without giving it a proper reaction. “How? Why? You and Princess Twilight have been planning that trip for two months. Y’all can’t just cancel it at the last minute!”
A flash of worry passed over Sunset, but it was gone as quick a it came, replaced by a smirk. “What’s she going to do, banish me? There will be other opportunities for the ponies in Equestria to learn about this world. And yeah, I might owe Twilight big time for this, but I’ll deal with that when the time comes.”
Applejack tried to sidle away, but Sunset held her firm. She’d gotten a lot stronger in the last year, no doubt from helping with all the farm work after graduation. “You can’t cancel somethin’ that big on account of me. I m-mean, you shouldn’t, and I…” She stared at Sunset, not sure what more to say. Now that she really looked, the woman’s hair was a mess and her clothes looked as if they’d been thrown on with no consideration for appearances. But Sunset’s smile was soothing and her eyes were as awake and confident as ever. “I th-thought you were comin’ to break up with me.”
Sunset’s eyebrows shot up. “What? You thought—no! Oh, AJ, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to interpret it that way. I just wanted to get here as fast as I could.”
“Really? Wait.” Cocking her head to one side, Applejack asked, “How’d you know I’d be here?”
With something between a scoff and a laugh, Sunset wrapped her arms around Applejack’s neck. “Where else would you be, you silly girl?”
“Girl?”
“Yes, girl. I am so much older than you.” Sunset rolled her eyes and grinned. It only lasted for a moment, then she regained her seriousness. “Now, about this whole ‘pony’ thing.”
“I’m sorry! I know I should trust you more, and I promise—”
“Stop.” Sunset pecked her on the lips, though her expression didn’t lose an ounce of firmness. “First of all, yes, all ponies crave affection. But if it was as simple as what you described over the phone, don’t you think every single pony would be cheating on every other pony? Nopony would ever trust their spouses to do anything, ever. We developed from herds, but that doesn’t mean we grew into a polygamous culture.”
Applejack blinked once, twice. Her cheeks began to burn. “Oh. I, uh, guess I didn’t think of that.”
Sunset gave a sharp nod. “Obviously. Second, I am indeed a pony and I do crave affection, but…” She regained her loving smile and pressed her forehead to Applejack’s. “You’ve given me everything I could ever ask for. I know how it looked when we first started dating, but that was back when I’d been stuck here for years going without. I was desperate, AJ. It was like being in a state of withdrawal. Now that I think about it?” She chuckled and gave another peck on the lips, the connection sending a familiar, beloved tingle down Applejack’s spine. “I might have been a little much back then. So sorry.”
“I can take it,” Applejack replied quickly, at last snaking her arms around Sunset’s waist. “I can take it all and then some.” She leaned in, really hoping she’d get another of those flighty kisses.
“I know you can.” Sunset leaned back with a wry smile, no doubt fully aware of what Applejack was after. “And honestly? I’m touched. You got yourself all worked up over the idea I could be with someone else?”
With a guilty and extremely relieved chuckle, Applejack allowed herself a moment to wipe at her drying cheeks. “Not my finest moment, I know.”
“It just goes to show how much you like me. And I…” The confidence wavered. Sunset licked her lips and averted her eyes. She pulled back a little more and pawed at her jacket, right where Applejack knew a pocket was hidden on the inside. “I was waiting for the right moment. Th-this qualifies, right?”
“Right moment for what?” At last feeling she was over her humiliating bout with jealousy, Applejack reached up to adjust a hat she wasn’t wearing. Only then did she remember she was in her bed shorts and shirt. She even had her hair down, which brought about a whole new heat to her cheeks. Had Sunset ever seen her with her hair down? She began fiddling with her golden locks and feeling for nonexistent pockets and their nonexistent hairbands.
“Oh, stop it.” Sunset reached out to touch Applejack’s hair, running her fingers through the long golden sheet with a soft smile. “You look wonderful. I’m the one who’s supposed to be nervous right now.”
Trying hard not to think about that hand making waves in her hair, Applejack refrained from biting her lip just long enough to ask, “What have y’all got to be nervous about? I’m the one what made a fool out of herself.”
For just a moment, Sunset’s expression twisted into a wry smirk. Applejack knew that look, it was the one that said “you just opened yourself up for some quality ribbing and I’m going to make you regret it.” But then, with visible effort and a prolonged breath, she lost that dangerous look. Instead, she took Applejack’s hand in one of hers. “We’ve been dating for a year, AJ. I, uh, have been wanting to do this for a couple months now. Maybe it’s not going how I thought it would, but I think you could use a promise.”
Despite how delightfully warm that hand was, Applejack raised an eyebrow at it. “A promise for what, exactly?”
Without taking her eyes off Applejack’s, Sunset tried to reach into her jacket. She missed the first time, and her hand fumbled with whatever was inside for several seconds. Her brow knitted, not out of agitation but rather a clear and open anxiety. At last, she pulled out a small object and placed it in Applejack’s palm. “A promise that I’m yours.”
It was a box, the outside dark brown and soft. Applejack frowned at it, not sure what she was seeing. A second too late, she realized she was expected to open it. It was a…
She could feel her eyes widening as the realization sank in. A silver ring was inside, capped by a decorative apple. The apple itself was divided by a single curving line and was surrounded by a ring of tiny heatwaves on either side of it. Sunset’s mark. Shaped into an apple. The two sides of the mark were decorated with a ruby and yellow topaz, respectively. “Sunset, this is… Are you…?”
Looking up revealed Sunset toying with her hair with both hands and keeping her eyes fixed on the ring. Her breath came in a slow, long rhythm and her eyes were wide. “R-Rarity said I should say some things. It’s, uh, all gone. Head’s kinda empty right now. Just. I. Yes?”
Applejack looked to her ring, then to her fidgeting girlfriend. Moving so fast she surprised even herself, she caught the back of Sunset’s head and pulled her in for much more than just a peck. This kiss, though chaste, was electrifying, and the two pulled at one another so tightly Applejack wondered if they wouldn’t be permanently fused. As Sunset’s hand caressed her neck, she wasn’t sure she’d mind that outcome. Her thoughts faded away, all attention going to enjoying the woman that was now undeniably, unassailably hers.
Alas, eventually they would need to breathe, and so they separated after a few years of bliss. Applejack wasn’t sure which to pay more attention to, the ring still in her hand or Sunset’s burning face and giddy, off-kilter smile. She looked like she was still mentally lost in the kiss, waddling from side to side like a tree in the wind. She snapped to attention, though, when Applejack raised the ring between them.
“Sunset, nothin’ in the world would make me happier. But, uh, are you sure?”
Giggling, Sunset took the ring from the box, then took Applejack’s hand. “Oh, stop being silly.” She held the ring at the ready, just at the tip of Applejack’s finger, then blushed. “I want you to know. We’re different, but it doesn’t matter. Yes, I’m ambitious. Yes, you’re tied to the farm. I’m a pony in human skin, you’re human through-and-through. We’re going to be separated at times, maybe for months, and we’ll disagree, and we’ll have different priorities. We’re people, AJ. Just because our destinations are a little different doesn’t mean we can’t make the journey together.”
She looked into Applejack’s eyes, her own filled with so many potential meanings and intentions that they overwhelmed and brought the heart to a standstill. “You once taught me that hard work can be its own reward. Now I’m ready to work hard for us. So…” She licked her lips and squeezed Applejack’s hand. “Will you marry me?”
Fresh tears tickling her face, Applejack grinned. “An Apple never shies away from hard work. You bet I’ll marry you.” She pushed her hand forward, slipping her finger into the ring rather than letting Sunset do it for her.
“That’s my girl.” Sunset let out a quick laugh and leaned forward for another kiss. Only a small one, but Applejack caught her up and pulled her back in for another, much longer one. Sunset obliged her for a moment, only to squirm back with a playful pout. “I had a witty line coming and you ruined it.”
Laughing, Applejack pressed their foreheads together and refused to let go. “I think the tradeoff was worth it.”
The pout cracked, slowly shifting to a fresh smile. “Yeah, you’re right. Kissing is way better.” They proceeded to test that declaration out. It took them some time, but Applejack figured it was only proper to be thorough. By the way Sunset’s reaction eventually moved beyond ‘chaste’ territory, she probably agreed.
After some indeterminate time spent on this project, the two found themselves lying on the floor, snuggling close with Sunset’s head on Applejack’s shoulder. Applejack stared at the stars, running her fingers through her fiancé’s incredible hair. Fiancé. She couldn’t stop grinning. And though weariness was starting to catch up to her – it was probably closing in on dawn, after all – she realized she still had one more thing to do. “Sunny?”
Sunset gave a hum in response, shifting and nuzzle against her side.
“If you told Twilight right away, could you still do that tour in Equestria?”
Silence. Applejack glanced at the lovely creature next to her to see Sunset thinking about her answer with a grim frown. At last, Sunset said, “Yes, I think so.”
“You should go.”
Eyebrows rising, Sunset shifted to better meet her gaze. “But what about you?”
“You made me a promise, and I need to show that I believe in that promise.”
Sunset smiled and shook her head. “You don’t need to prove anything to me.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Pulling her a little closer, Applejack turned her eyes back to the stars. “But you were right. About the hard work, I mean. If we’re gonna be wife and… uh… other wife?” Blushing at Sunset’s giggle, she pressed on. “I was in a panic tonight. It was… well, lookin’ back it was mighty stupid. I might not need to prove anything to you, but I do need to prove it to myself. I wanna make this work, Sunny. More than anything. Right now that means letting you go on your own leg of this journey we’re on, even if it means we’re taking separate paths for a little bit.”
She met Sunset’s gaze once more. Her mind went blank at the sight of those loving, concerned cyan eyes, but she fought down the urge to start another kiss test. “I’ve gotta let you be you and me be me. This won’t work otherwise, and I’m going to make this work. Maybe it’ll be hard. But… that makes it all the more worth it, right?”
Another pleasant hum from Sunset as she reached up to carees Applejack’s cheek. “I love you, you know that?”
Applejack chuckled. “I should hope so. I’d hate to think you planned to marry me for the farm. Were you after my apples the whole time?”
Sunset made a faux-groan and snuggled up all the more tightly to her. “Darn, I’ve been found out. Guess I’ll have to try seducing Big Mac next.”
An even louder laugh erupted from Applejack at that. “If you can pry him out of Fluttershy’s grasp. Good luck, you’ll need it.” She kissed her fiancé on the forehead, earning a fresh giggle, then yawned. “I love you too, Sugarcube. You’ll see. We’ll be perfect together, bruises and all.”
“I know we will be.” Tucking her head into Applejack’s neck, Sunset released her own long yawn. “Alright, AJ. I’ll contact Twilight. But not until after I’ve had a nap. Someone woke me up in the middle of the night.”
“Sounds fair.”
They said nothing after that, and soon Sunset had slipped away from consciousness. Applejack noted the gradually fading darkness in the east and wondered about what was to come. She’d really made a fool of herself tonight, hadn’t she? She’d have some apologies to make, particularly to Princess Twilight when the opportunity next came up. But that was alright. As she ran her fingers once more through those silky red-and-yellow locks, she could feel nothing but contentment.
She was so far behind. Sunset had started her journey a good two years ago, testing the waters and trying to find the right path. All that time, even when Sunset turned that path in Applejack’s direction, all Applejack had done was watch. Only now did she understand that Sunset had been trying to pull her along. If she didn’t start following, she’d be left behind. And as pleasant as it was watching her leave – Applejack couldn’t resist a small chuckle – the idea of Sunset moving on without her was what had frozen her blood today.
But now she knew it. She knew it, and she would have to run to catch up. But Sunset was patient. She’d offered to put her journey on hold, just for her. It was just like Sunset to do something like that. She didn’t have to. Applejack would have to run to catch up, but that was okay. She always relished a good challenge. And now Applejack knew that, should she stumble, Sunset would slow down and give her the breather she needed.
Because Sunset was perfect.
With one last yawn, she settled herself for sleep. The rest of her life was sunnier than she’d ever dreamed.
Author's Note
I originally didn’t plan to write a sequel to The Fourth Season, but then Oroboro surprised me by announcing a second Sunset Shipping Contest. At first I was all like “nah, I’m already releasing Bulletproof Heart, that’s good enough for this month.” But then I saw that sequels for previous contest entries were permitted. Which made me go back and re-read The Fourth Season for nostalgia purposes. Which got me thinking about what might happen next. Which got me thinking about potential ways to handle the scene, and then I got this image in my head of Applejack sitting all alone and scared at the gazebo, and then...
Here we are.
So, yeah. This is all Oroboro’s fault. Totally.
