John Sampson's Story

When the alarm goes off, AJ ‘keeps up with us’ with little effort. Can ‘til can’t is a common farm schedule. I want her with us because I want to expose her to the family life of the Guard. If she joins us, she will be joining the Guard too.

Wanna guess who was waiting for us when we get to the cafeteria? “AJ, this Colonel Steel Will, my boss. Colonel, this is Applejack of Sweet Apple Acres.”

The Colonel stands and gestures, “Have a seat Ma’am. I must confess that I am here to meet you. Your family has been supplying us with apples since I was a raw recruit and we’ve never seen anything but the best. Thank you very much for that.”

“Are you trying to flatter me, Colonel?”

“Call me ‘Steel’. And only as much as you deserve.

“Major, why don’t you and the Captain go get the food while I entertain the Lady.”

I look at AJ, “Any preferences?”

“Can I get a fruit salad with lots of apples?”

“Of course. We’ll be right back.”

I get three eggs with toast and apple slices in addition to AJ’s order. When we return AJ is looking very serious.

“John, Steel has made me a very interesting offer. I won’t consider it unless both of you approve but I think we need to take a good look at it.”

Steel explains, “John, the Guard will do almost anything to accommodate a union between you and Applejack. You both deserve it and the Guard desperately needs more ponies like you. The first thing that comes to mind is building a facility in Ponyville for you to work out of and be able to go home to the farm at night. All of your foals will have Guard funded full scholarships waiting for them.”

“Steel, it’s not a done deal yet. We still have to go spend some time with her family. And we have to finalize some legal issues. But it looks more like fate every time I turn around.”

“Legal issues, John? The Guard has some very smart lawyers.”

“It’s not that level of problem. When you own a farm like AJ’s, you can’t let it fall into conventional patterns of inheritance. If you do, four generations later it will degenerate into a hundred zero point two percent undivided interests and be sold off to strangers. Nor can we simply disinherit foals. So we have to structure a system of trusts to own the assets of the family and protect everypony.”

A very satisfied looking Steel says, “It sounds to me like you are taking care of business in a proper and timely manner. Please notify me of the date of the ceremony. Miss Applejack, please allow me to extend all possible courtesy to you during your stay with the Guard today and in the future.”

As Steel walks out the door to his own day, AJ remarks, “I like him.”

We eat quietly and when we are done I laid out what AJ would see, “This is a piece of my magic and it is more than likely that any foal I sire will inherit it.”

AJ sits calmly and watches while I go through my usual routine with weights. Swift sits with her for most of the time. When we are done and showered I suggest, “I think it would be a good idea to visit Twilight next. We have been studying this and have some ideas.”

AJ is somber, “John, I knew you were ‘unusual’ but this is a little more than I expected. Could I have a foal that could literally hug my head off?”

“In a word, NO. The reason for the whole honeymoon debacle was that even though Swift and I were thoroughly married and much in lust, we didn’t consummate until we had been in a lab with Twilight and Doctor Red. I had to be convinced that I wouldn’t accidentally hurt Swift. This is what Twilight will explain to you in detail. My kind of magic has a built in safety factor. I can’t hurt anypony without a full formulation of an intent to hurt.”

“Is she expecting us?”

“Yes. And AJ, be kind to her. She has a terrible case of parapraxis whenever this band is brought up.”

The doorpony let us right in. Twilight is seated downstairs this time looking quite scholarly and serious. “Hello, AJ, Swift, John. Since we are all here, can I assume that we are moving forward?”

I explain, “We’ve all been given a lot to think about this morning. Please forego all privacy considerations and give AJ as thorough and exact a truth about me as you can.”

Twilight looked to AJ, “What do you want to know?”

AJ thought a moment, “How dangerous is he, really.”

“To you? Not at all. In fact, you’re far safer with him than without him. I really wouldn’t want to be anypony caught trying to harm you or Swift, though.”

“What about his foals. Will they be as strong as he is?”

“Probably. A Unicorn foal might grow up to be as strong as Celestia.”

“And knowing all that ya know, if ya were me, would ya go through with it?”

“Yes I would, absolutely and unequivocally. By accident or by design, he is the best stallion in Equestria right now and you are at least a top ten mare.”

“Thank you, Twilight. He still has to spend some time with the family but Granny is ready to band him herself after what he taught me about using trusts to keep the farm intact and Big Mac liked him from day one. We’ll probably have the ceremony on the farm on the day the family officially approves.”

“Are you going to heartbond like Swift?”

“Yes. Do ya have any advice on a three way?”

“I don’t see any way to do it wrong. It’s basically a good cuddle with a special kind of oath and we all know how good he is with Oaths. Just focus on your love for each other and let ‘er rip.”

We send AJ home on the noon train and hunker down to wait for the lawyers to justify their fees. I have time to learn a lot about Equestria and Swift networks like a fool. It is a pleasant time with nights toggling between mad passion and sweet grooming.

Then ‘The Letter’ came. The papers are ready to sign. When could we be in Ponyville?

We rush through PT the next morning and head for the Clerk's office. I am about halfway through filing out the leave request form when Colonel Steel opens the door and says, “Effective immediately, Major John and Captain Swift are granted one week leave for the express purpose of visiting Ponyville. Any additional time requested will be granted on a week by week basis.”

And we head home to pack.

As the train pulls into the Ponyville station we grab our bags and prepare to debark. AJ had come to Canterlot for our first date so now we are going to her farm for the second and possibly final date. There has been much correspondence and legal negotiation in between but we are coming down to the finish line.

Swift’s saddle bags and my pack are loaded with gear and trail supplies. It is our plan to spend some time with the Apple family then camp in some isolated woods on the backside of the Apple farm. If we choose to go ahead the heartbonding would likely take place while we are camping. There is little chance that we would make it back through town without Pinkie throwing us a reception but that was the price of life in Ponyville.

I was hoping that AJ would meet us in town for lunch but the stationmaster has a note from her informing us that one of her wholesalers in Manehattan has filed for bankruptcy owing her for a year’s apples. It is show up and make a claim right now or forget about a year’s profits. She will be back in a couple of days. It isn’t like Big Mac is a stranger and I will get a little extra time to play with Fred. And we have already waited months for this moment so an extra day or two won’t matter.

Sugarcube Corner gives us a chance to eat and face Pinkie in one quick move. She seems to accept that the date for the banding isn’t set yet but you can never be sure with Pinkie. A quick hike up the road brings us to the front gate of the Apple farm. Every field I can see has been plowed and is set up for planting in spring. That kinda disappoints me. I want to try my back at pulling a plow. I have friends that do it and I never have, at least not the Equestrian way..

Granny Smith is rocking on the porch. She motions us to approach. “Put your stuff in the last room down the hall on the right. Bathroom’s across the hall. Big Mac is in the west four hundred and twenty acres.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” We drop our luggage in the bedroom and go looking for Big Mac.

As we crest the hill on the west road, we run into a filly headed the other way. “Anypony with a mane that color has to be related to Big Mac,” Swift said.

“And being dead up in the middle of Sweet Apple Acres couldn’t possibly have anything to do with it?” she fired back.

So I pick it up, “I’ll bet it’s Apple Bloom.”

She looks at me and says, “And I’ll bet you’re that human trying to steal AJ.”

Uh oh. “You, my darling filly, are confused. AJ is trying to trap us on the farm.”

“Really?” apparently she likes that idea. “If you’re looking for Fred and Big Mac, they’re about two hundred and fifty yards that way.” pointing west on the road.

“Thank you, Milady.”

She goes on her way giggling and we continue on ours.

Sure enough, just down the road and behind some trees is Big Mac and Fred plowing a field. ‘Plowing a field’, oh boy, I get to try it after all!

“Hello Fred. Hello Big Mac.”

They both shrug out of the harness and come at a full gallop.

“Hey, John! AJ had ta go ta Manehattan. She’ll be back in two days.”

“Yeh, we got her note. We got a week and more for the asking. Did she tell you how the Guard feels about this whole thing?”

“Eeyup.”

“So we’re here for a vacation too. I’ve even been thinking about trying my shoulder against a plow.”

“So pick one, big stallion.”

I strip my shirt off and pass it to Swift. “By the way, we ran into Apple Bloom on the way up here. She is mad at me for stealing AJ but I assured her that AJ is actually trying to trap us on the farm. She likes that idea.”

“John, be careful. She can talk ponies into anything. You may find a bear trap in your bed tonight.” Big Mac warns.

“Okay. I’ll try your plow first.”

I trot over to the single bottom plow Big Mac favors and shrug myself into the harness. It fits fairly well. I take aim on the far side of the field and lean into it. It is a soft bumpy trip because this is a second pass, made at an angle to the first. I am coming back when Big Mac shouts at me.

“Slow down, John. You’re throwing the dirt too far.”

So I stop next to Fred’s three bottom plow and move over into his harness.

It’s a little big on me. But I wrap my arms around the collar so it is against my upper arms and tighten up. I take a step but the dirt just moves back under my foot. I take a deep breath and concentrate, feeling my muscles and my strength flowing down my legs and into the ground. And just walk forward. It isn’t hard and it feels good.

I’ve made eight passes down the field and back when,

I laugh, “Fred, because I love you, I’m going to teach you a valuable lesson. On the strength of your evaluation of me as a ‘show off’, I am going to stop doing your work for you.

“Big Mac! What have you been teaching my horse? I’m shocked.”

Breakfast is apple fritters at six AM in the family kitchen. Granny might be old but she’s no slouch in the kitchen. I am extra hungry. Using my magic has that effect on me.

I quiz Big Mac, “I’d like to find a good camping spot. We can set up and come back here for any work that needs doing. Where do you think we should start?

Big Mac thinks for a moment, “From where we met yesterday, follow the fence line north. In about six hundred yards you’ll cross a creek. Follow the creek east and you’ll find a clearing. It’s a pretty place.”

I get up and started gathering dishes when, “Don’t you touch that!” it was Granny. “I’ll say who touches my dishes and when!”

“Yes Ma’am.” Setting them carefully back on the table.

“Damned stallions. You gotta keep on top of them every minute.” Granny grumbles.

I look at Big Mac. He shrugs, “Eeyup.”

Leaving a few clothes behind, we gather our gear and slip out the back door. It is a pleasant morning with just enough chill to be invigorating. I’ve got my mare by my side and we’re heading out to live wild and free for a while. This is how life should be lived.

We follow Big Mac’s directions and there it is, a little pocket pasture with the creek flowing through it and trees all around. This is where I want to spend eternity with sweet grass, clear water, and protection from the miseries of the world.

I throw the pop tent and anchor it between two trees so we will have shelter if the weather turns but I leave our sleeping pad in the open in front of it. Swift puts our groceries in the tent to discourage curious critters and I strip down to get in touch with my inner pony. We walk out into the grass and just graze for a while. My neck doesn’t let me graze like I want to but I can pick tender blades to chew as I stand beside my mare in our little domain.

I find a spot that looks oh so comfortable so I lay down and roll. Of course, I end up with little bits of crushed grass all over me so Swift comes over and starts picking them off and eating them. I lay there and doze in perfect contentment. After a bit I feel a push between my shoulders. “My turn lover,” Swift says. We trade places and after she rolls, I pick.

Coming up on noon we decide to go back to the house and check in. I start back down the creek when Swift spoke up, “It really does feel like home, doesn’t it?”

I stop, confused, “Well, yes, but why is that significant right now?”

“You haven’t put your pants back on.”

“Do I need them? The trail is clear.”

“What about Bloom?”

“She’s lived her whole life around Big Mac. I’m sure she’s seen balls before.”

“But Big Mac doesn’t walk around at half mast all the time.”

Oh. I had forgotten that. “You’re right. She needs some time to adjust to the human side.” So I go to the tent and put my cargo shorts on.

“Have you realized, John, that this is the first place where you have felt completely comfortable outside? I’m used to the fully natural you but it’s not something you show to many ponies.”

I’m thinking on that as we walk along the fence line. My inner pony is conflicted about hiding anything from ponies I called friend. When we pass the field where Fred and Big Mac were working, I notice that the plows are standing alone. It is definitely lunch time when we get to the house.

Granny is on a tear, “Well now. You seem to have lost some of your clothes in the woods.”

“Granny, I don’t wear clothes at home. I lost all of them for a while.”

Granny eyeballs me carefully, “But you had to put some on to come here?”

“I almost forgot to but Swift reminded me that some of my human idiosyncrasies disturb ponies that are not used to them. If what you are asking is ‘does this feel like home to me?’ the answer is ‘Yes!’”

“Good, then you can wash the dishes.”

That’s Granny. The smallest and weakest in body and always in charge.

Swift puts the dishes up after I wash and Bloom dries. Granny is impressed with how quickly hands can reduce a complex task to a completed job. After all is done we head back up the road after Fred and Big Mac. I spell both of them on a plow while Swift keeps the cool water flowing. I just feel so right with the world working the land with my band. My inner pony is in heaven.

We are nearly done but it is time for dinner and, as it was explained to me, there is no ‘late for dinner’ with Granny. If you are late, there is no dinner. And that would have been truly sad. We have roasted corn, stewed carrots, garden salad, and extreme apple pie.

Granny put me on dish detail again but I make quick work of it. I tell Big Mac that we are going to spend the night in the tent and would probably eat breakfast there then meet him and Fred in the field. He just grins and nods.

As we walk up the road toward the setting sun, side by side with my hand caressing my mare’s withers, I reflect on just how lucky I am.