It should be arriving soon. Any second now. I told myself that five whole minutes ago, but I mean it this time. With a hoot of its steamy whistle, it’ll appear from around the cliff in the far-off distance and creep its way into the station. Applejack and I will board it, take our seats, and then be on our way to Ponyville. I can feel it in my gut.
…Or is that just the bruising?
I stretch my back and wince at the pain between my withers, but I don’t feel any tears start to come, so nope, definitely a hunch. Probably.
There isn’t much to do at the station except sit and wait and hope the train arrives. I could appreciate the scenery some more, because the view is pretty awesome, but I’ve already done that a bunch of times. But with nothing better to do, I suppose another look wouldn’t hurt. No more than the chimera had at any rate – I still have the bandages and stuff to prove it.
But ever since then, I’ve been feeling…
I blink and gently shake my head, forcing the agitation out with a quiet snort – quiet enough that Applejack doesn’t notice. I think she’s taking a nap against my shoulder, so I don’t want to disturb her. She’s already been through enough. I’m just happy I still have her.
It’s a clear day in the Southern Unicorn Range. Getting close to evening, but the sky hasn’t darkened or turned pink and gold just yet. No clouds to wander by, no wind blowing through the trees or forested valleys. Just us, this bench, the rickety wooden platform, and the mining town a little ways back. I can still hear the chug-chug-chug of that massive drill they built, or whatever it is, even from this distance. There are no paved roads or working lights, just dirt tracks and oil lamps; a real frontier settlement, Applejack called it, where the ponies get by on sheer determination and good, honest work.
But since they’re on the frontier, they have to battle wild weather and even crazier wildlife. And that’s apparently where we come in. Just this once.
That train can’t get here soon enough.
My hoof taps against the wooden edge of the bench, and my wings shift at my sides. It’s a pretty place, but I want out. I want to go home, back to Ponyville. I want to stop worrying that things might not be alright, or could head south in a matter of moments. I want to know that I’m safe – that we’re…
Applejack turns her head, putting her ear and cheek to my chest and breathing deep, close to nuzzling into my neck. I wouldn’t be opposed to that, but I wouldn’t want her thinking that I’m desperate for her to stay close. It’s not that I’m embarrassed about it, but she just doesn’t need to worry on my account.
“Your heart’s beatin’ like a drum, Rainbow,” she says, pulling away a touch and looking up at me. Her hat sits beside her, all the better to nuzzle with when nothing is in the way. “You doin’ okay?”
I nod, forcing a weary smirk. “Yeah. Just… eager to get home, I guess.”
“Me too, sugarcube.” She leans in again and sidles a little closer, flank to flank, shoulder to shoulder, bowing her head and huddling it under my chin. “Me too.”
Peering down the other side of her body, I can see some of the battlescars; singed and blackened patches of fur, some claw marks as well, one deep enough that it might turn into a bald spot when it heals over. The local doctor did what he could for both of us, but a couple of stitches, field dressings and an herbal tonic to dull the pain – three drops every hour – certainly isn’t enough. These might stay with us for quite some time, if not for life, and I’m growing increasingly aware of how precious it is.
How delicate it is. For me. For her. Anypony.
I stare off into the distance ahead of us, beyond the train tracks, beyond the steep incline, far into the main and most massive valley below. The lakes remind me of the ones by Applejack’s farm, where we’d go for the occasional swim on the hottest days in summer. “What do you wanna do when we get back?”
“Rest,” she answers, then lays a forehoof over mine and nuzzles in a little more. “A good, long, well-deserved rest. You?”
“The same, I think. It’s not every day you fight a chimera.”
“It’s not every day you survive gettin’ bitten by one either.”
My tail and wings tuck in, a stabbing pang pricking at my core, coming from my withers. The puncture marks are still sore, and the guilt is only making them fester and burn. “I guess you’re right.”
Of course she was. There’s barely a day when she isn’t. But that doesn’t change the fact, does it? Like it or not – which I don’t – it happened. I let it happen. And all I could think about afterwards, more than the searing pain, was…
My tapping on the wood gets a bit more urgent. “It should be here by now.”
“The ponies said late afternoon,” Applejack soothes, and I feel her shift to glance at the sky. “The sun ain’t settin’ yet. Just give it time, Dash, it’ll be here.”
“It should be faster.”
“Like you, huh?”
I open my mouth to speak, but the words catch deep in my throat, and when I feel the lump forming, I look left again, to where the train would be coming from. It can’t come soon enough.
“Rainbow?”
“Yeah?”
For a moment, she doesn’t say anything else, like she’s swilling a batch of cider to see if it tastes funny. But then she slowly draws herself back and peers up at me, and it takes all of my strength not to let my ears fold flat, even when I’m not looking directly at her. “Is something botherin’ you?”
She has a gaze that could bore a hole through a mountain if that’s what it takes, or cause a boulder to break out into a sweat. What she makes, she can unmake, and the same goes for me. Not that she’d actually do anything hurtful. “No.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
She watches me closely. Not harshly, but closely, almost like she’s begging for something. And then she sighs through her nose and lets her ears droop. “You know I can tell when you’re lyin’, Dash. You’ve never been very good at it.”
I feel my chest tighten, and the fur there puffs out just a bit. I hate how my body sometimes works against me. “Neither are you.”
She hardens her brows a touch and cocks one, angling her head with a sceptical, imploring look. Weird how she can make an entire argument with a simple expression, and a convincing one at that. Weirder still how I’ve steadily been growing worse at countering them.
But I know what she’s trying to say, and I purse my lips and stare down at the platform beneath us. We’d already promised that we’d be honest with each other, and I was dangerously close to breaking that vow. “Yes. Something’s bothering me.”
“What?”
I shrug, gulping quietly, and look up and gradually crane my head from left to right while I’m at it, taking in the sights, hoping it would help work out the strange knot in my stomach. “I wasn’t fast enough.”
She stays silent for a while, her brow remaining high, then glances right, like I hadn’t made myself clear enough. “That’s it?”
I gently frown, puzzled at her puzzlement, and peer at her from the corner of my eye. “What do you mean that’s it?”
“I mean that’s it as in… that’s it? I mean, don’t get me wrong, but don’tcha think there are bigger fritters to fry than whether you or not were fast enough?”
“No, I don’t, because if I was fast enough, none of this would’ve happened. I wouldn’t have gotten bitten by the thing, you wouldn’t have had to fend it off by yourself, and then we wouldn’t have had to drag ourselves all the way back into town. Except you were doing all the heavy lifting, because I was seizing up half the time, and paralysed the other half, and I barely remember any of it.”
I see the memory flicker in her eyes, and her steely gaze wavers, but it’s only for an instant. Her hoof gives mine a tender squeeze for assurance, and it suddenly feels like she’s draped a warm, fuzzy blanket over my withers. “It weren’t your fault, Rainbow.”
“Uh, yeah, it was.” I turn my head to face her properly. “Don’t you get it? I’ve never had to worry about anything biting me before, because I’ve always been faster than whatever it was, even when it had the jump on me.”
“Mistakes happen.”
“This was way more than a mistake, AJ. I got sloppy. I never get sloppy. I’m Rainbow Dash, the Element of Loyalty, one of the greatest, most famous heroes in all of Equestrian history, and I almost died. I got ambushed by a chimera. Not some magical supervillain intent on enslaving or destroying the world, but a chimera – a wild animal.”
“A dangerous animal.”
“Sure, but it’s still just an animal.”
Her brow rises even higher, and she glances up and down for a brief moment, seeming more sarcastic than concerned. “You’re gettin’ uppity because it weren’t impressive enough?”
“No.” I shake my head thoroughly, but the words latch onto my thoughts and don’t quite let go. “Well, maybe, but that’s not the point. At all. What I’m trying to say is that this was a minor problem in the grand scheme of things – we’re used to facing it.” And now my own words start to catch me up as well, echoing in my head like the voice of a lost foal in an empty cavern, and I stare past her like I’ve seen a ghost. “And if I can’t handle what I’m used to anymore…”
Her expression swings back to concern, but her jaw clenches behind her closed mouth, and her gaze lowers, almost as if she’s ashamed of something. Almost. “You made it through, Dash. You handled it.”
“No, I didn’t.” I pull my forehoof away from hers and swivel myself so I face the left a little more, ready to see the train approach, and so I don’t have to look her in the eye. Getting this off my chest is bad enough, but seeing what it does to her would be even worse. “Getting bitten was a shock, but that’s all it was. While I was grounded, watching you kick its butt should’ve been awesome…”
“…But it weren’t?”
“No.” I soberly shake my head again, and I feel the tightness inside rise to my throat. It’s like somepony has replaced all the bones in my body with a skeleton of heavy iron. “Not at all. I just wanted to get out of there – for us both to get out of there – because you were doing everything and I was doing nothing. I was scared, AJ.”
“Hey,” she coos, leaning forward a tad and peering up at me with upturned brows. “You’ve been scared before, sugarcube. Ain’t no shame in it.”
“This is different, Jackie.” Fighting the stiffness in my neck and the rumbling, prickly feeling in my stomach, I meet her gaze once more, but pleadingly, kind of like a hurt puppy. “I was scared. And it wasn’t just for my life.”
She lingers on me, then quietly snorts and beams a soft smirk. “Is this just a long and convoluted way of sayin’ how much you care for me?”
“No. Well, yeah, but mostly no. I mean, like… when I saw you step between the chimera and me, I was relieved… but I was also worried, because if it got the better of me… who’s to say it wouldn’t get the better of you? And the thing is that I know you’re capable of fending for yourself, but I couldn’t protect myself. And if I couldn’t protect myself… how can I protect you? Not just then, or now, but in the future too.”
Her smirk has vanished. She doesn’t say anything, but it’s clear that she’s thinking about this a lot harder than she was before. Or maybe she was already thinking about this, but didn’t let it show until now – until I brought it up.
It leaves me sick to the core, and the pain where it bit me on the side resurfaces. For a second, I worry if the effects of the antivenom are starting to wear off, because I only know basic first aid from the Wonderbolts. But if the doctor didn’t say anything, there was probably nothing to worry about.
Even so, I think my heart beats a little harder, and I start tapping on the wood again as I stare off into the distance, waiting for this damn train.
“You’re nervous, aint’cha?”
With a sigh, I hang my head and sag my shoulders. “Of course I’m nervous. Why wouldn’t I be? I almost died, AJ, and if it weren’t for you… I would be.”
“But you ain’t. That’s what matters.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I retort, frowning at her with a sideways look, “because if it happened once, it could happen again. I just finished telling you, didn’t I? It sets a precedent, or whatever Twilight would call it. And if it does happen again, which it most likely will... who’s to say we’re gonna be ready for it, or lucky enough that one or both of us survive it?”
Her brows knit together. “You’re talkin’ hypotheticals, Dash. It ain’t right to think like that.”
“Why not? Isn’t this something we should be discussing?”
She stares at me for a long moment, then blinks, then licks her lips and turns away, shifting in her seat to sit a little more upright. “I suppose.”
A dull, rusted blade scrapes along my insides. She’s normally too stubborn to back down and change her mind that easily, and that can only mean one thing: I’ve struck a nerve with her. And that scares me. Because if something scares her, then there’s a good chance that I should be worried too.
She’s supposed to be the grounded one when I’m the one who frets, but if we’re on the same wavelength… it can’t be some phoney concern. This is a completely real problem, and one we have to work out.
Question is, where do we start?
…The beginning, I guess. It’s as good a place as any.
“How long have we been doing this again?”
Applejack slowly returns to me with an eyebrow raised and a softer, more subdued gaze. Not even a minute in and we’re already getting tired looks. “Doin’ what?”
“This.” I bring a foreleg up and gesture to our surroundings – the platform and railroad, the town behind us and the mountains behind it, and the valley ahead and whatever lies beyond. “Being heroes. Travelling to distant lands to solve friendship problems and fight the bad guys.”
She pauses, thinking, then gives a slow shrug. “Quite a while. Nearly twenty years, I reckon.”
“Right.” I coolly nod, doing some math in my head, weighing up how I feel about it in my stomach. “And has it ever occurred to you just how dicey this whole thing is?”
“Dicey?”
“Risky. Deadly. Potentially life-threatening.”
“Oh. Plenty.”
I blink at her with widening eyes. “It has?”
She refocuses her attention on me, sharper and more pointed than if I’d said her hat was tacky and should be thrown away. Which is something I most definitely do not think. “It hasn’t for you?”
In retrospect, it definitely should’ve, and a pit of guilt opens up inside me. “No,” I gloomily admit, shaking my head and looking away once more. “I mean, yes, it did, but… it never really struck me until now, y’know?”
She nods thoughtfully. “We do learn more through experience, don’t we?”
“Yeah?” I glance at her, but feel too shamefaced to keep my eyes locked with hers. “What’s yours, then? When did you start feeling like this?”
“When I started lovin’ you.”
My ears twitch, then perk up, and then I turn to her in mute surprise.
Applejack watches me, peers into me, brows furrowed and ears flat, the green of her eyes gleaming like emeralds, earnest and heartfelt. She doesn’t smile, but her tone isn’t harsh either, just sincere. And warm.
And then she deflates with another quiet sigh, lowering her gaze. “From the moment I realised how things would pan out for us – how compatible we are and the like, and where that would lead – I knew there was a real danger in gettin’ too attached. I mean, I love all the girls, every darn one of ’em, and I’m glad they care for me as much as I do them… but it ain’t the same with you. And I know how bad it hurts to lose somepony you love.”
Another scrape of the rusty blade caresses my insides, reaching as far as my heart, and I quirk an eyebrow cautiously, certain I already know the answer to my own question. “Your parents?”
She nods again, but slower. “Things just weren’t the same without ’em. The house was empty. Me, Granny, my brother and sister, we recovered eventually, but… it took time. But…”
When I’m convinced by the distant look in her eyes that she’s disappeared inside her head, I give her a nudge with the tip of my wing, and wince a little when the pain of the chimera’s bite flares up in my withers. “But?”
She blinks a few times, glancing at me, then clears her throat and straightens herself up, though she never really meets my eyes. “…But I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
The rusty blade jabs upward and twists, and it suddenly feels like my whole entire body is tingling with pins and needles. I can’t tell whether it’s what I wanted to hear or didn’t want to hear, but the tremendous urge to hug her close overwhelms me, and I open the same wing and wrap it around her, and I drape my foreleg over her shoulders to pull her in.
However, my withers ache like another set of fangs have stabbed into me.
But, side to side again, shoulder to shoulder, neck to neck, she nuzzles herself back into that nook beneath my chin and breathes deeply. We weren’t about to cry and we sure as heck aren’t now, but it’s an absolute relief to feel each other’s warmth, and the rise and fall of our chests, and the beat of our hearts if we focus enough.
“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you either,” I mutter, staring ahead with a pensive frown, and I think I hear my voice break. “That was all I could think about, y’know? When you were fighting the chimera. When you were dragging me. At the doctor’s house. I didn’t wanna see you scared. I didn’t wanna see you cry. But you were. You did.”
“What was I supposed to do?” she asks, and despite the dejected tone, she manages a halfhearted chuckle. “Smile and sing and do a little jig? Ding-dong the Dash is dead?”
And despite myself, I snicker. “No. But I’d sure like to hear you try.”
And then she laughs.
Stars above, I love it when she laughs.
It has an almost melodic sound to it, I think, in an off-key, twangy sort of way, whooping at the start and throaty at the end, like it’s bouncing on a cloud to see how high it can go. It’s uplifting enough that no situation afterwards could ever seem too grim, and I’ve found myself kissing her on more than one occasion because of it – my thanks to her for being so amazing. For being there for me. For ever thinking that I deserve her.
But right now? I just tighten my grip and will her to stay with me, and bow my head to hug her even closer. “You know I love you too, right?”
“Of course I do.” Her forehoof finds mine and gives it another tender, heartening squeeze. “You see too much of yourself in me to pick anypony better.”
“Hey,” I playfully scold, giving her shoulder a firm rub, “I’m not that full of myself. Anymore.”
“I know you ain’t, I know. Just pullin’ your leg is all. And careful with the bruises on that side – they’re still pretty raw.”
“Oh, right.” I let go but keep the wing there. It’s light enough that I don’t have to worry about pressing any wrong buttons, and I know she likes the feeling of it. She’s never said so, but I can tell, especially whenever we stargaze on the roof of the barn, and she sinks into it. Into me. “Sorry.”
“Ain’t no harm done, sugarcube. Ain’t no harm done at all.”
Such a sound, that almost motherly tone of hers. I swear, I could cuddle up with her on an afternoon in the orchard and drift off while she reads aloud some childhood storybook. She has a good voice for that kind of thing.
Time passes, and now, with her against me, I can finally sit still. I still want to go home to Ponyville, and rest up and have a good nap where I know we’ll be safe, but the world seems just a bit more peaceful. A bit more sensical. A bit more right with her by my side.
Merciful Sisters, she’s as much a part of me as my wings. I’d never be the same if I lost them.
…That’s a scary thought.
I try not to think about it.
Taking another deep breath and scanning the environment for something else to nab my focus, I find nothing I haven’t seen before, beautiful as it all is. Maybe we could come out here for a little vacation someday. Rent a small cabin, hide away for a week with the girls – Rarity, Pinkie, Fluttershy… maybe even Twilight, if she could somehow wiggle out of her responsibilities as a princess.
Or maybe just us. Me and her. Alone.
That’d be nice, I think.
Someday.
But then my ears stand at attention as I hear the hoofsteps on wood coming from behind us, and I swivel my head to face the sound.
A mare climbs the last few steps to the platform, and a young colt rides on her back with a massive smile on his tiny, rosy-cheeked and freckled face, happy as happy can be. The mare also looks pretty happy, but more in the ‘I woke up on the right side of the bed’ kind of way – a constant state of contentment. She wears a hat like Applejack’s, and tips it toward us with a polite smile as she strolls on by for the other bench further down.
I continue watching them. They’re the first ponies I’ve seen come this way.
The colt hops off when she moves to sit, then begins exploring all there is to explore, which turns out to be not a whole lot. So, he joins the mare – his mother, I assume, and quite a bit younger than us – and sits on his haunches, peering around so he can see the tracks vanish behind the cliff in the distance, eager for the train to come. His tail flicks and wags on the seat, and his mother wraps a foreleg around him to draw him in and hold him close, perhaps so she can appreciate a little peace and quiet.
They whisper things. Hushed things. Excited things. But every now and then, I spy a faint trace of worry in her eyes, creasing her brows. The same kind of worry I was feeling not too long ago. And suddenly, the scene before me doesn’t seem so laid-back.
They’re waiting for somepony, I know that much. You don’t sit at a train station just because. The question is who they’re waiting for.
A spouse most likely, or a special somepony. A father to the child, even, or maybe another mare, and the kid has been adopted. Which is… something Applejack and I have talked about from time to time. Not with a huge degree of seriousness – at least on my end – but the cards have been laid on the table. And now I can’t help but wonder if…
I mean, the mare is an earth pony too…
It wouldn’t be that much of a stretch to simply…
…Would it?
I notice a pain in my brows, then realise that they’ve knitted themselves together, so I quickly look away and do my best to relax them. It helps, but I guess the leftover venom from the bite is making it harder for any pain to fade, and the unsettled feeling in my stomach, core and chest bubbles away like a boiling cauldron, or a stormcloud fat with rain and bristling with lightning.
I do not need to see that image again. At all. It’s bad enough to see Applejack in her place, but to imagine a foal in the picture too – our foal…
They’d never know I wouldn’t be coming back until the train arrived. Not for certain, anyway. They wouldn’t dare let it cross their minds. How could it be that the last they saw of the mare they loved… was the last they’d see of her? How would they cope? Could they even cope?
Applejack said she couldn’t.
I confessed that I couldn’t either.
Something needs to be done about that.
I know there’s a solution… but I’d never bring it up on my own. It goes against everything I’ve learned to stand for and everything I’m supposed to be, and I gulp down the guilt of even thinking that thought. I’m better than that.
And yet, the thought beckons. And the freshly bandaged bite marks in my withers are starting to sting and ache again. And I know it’ll grow worse the longer I keep it bottled up.
But still, it’s not my place to talk about that kind of thing.
“You don’t think…”
That is, so long as I’m not the one who brings it up first.
I peer down at Applejack and quirk a furrowed brow. “Don’t I think what?”
She stiffens a little. Hesitation, reluctance – whatever it is, she has it, because she takes after her brother in a way; she doesn’t normally start a conversation unless she thinks it’s worth having. But as for this one, there’s no easy way to go about it. “I… might be spoutin’ nonsense, and you’re completely free to ignore me – really, I won’t mind – but I just kinda… maybe sorta… had something of a thought.”
“What kind of thought?”
She doesn’t move for a short while, hesitant. But then, slowly, she draws back and sits up, meeting my eyes with a solemn gaze. She doesn’t really want to say what she’s trying to say, and I can sympathise with that on so many levels. “You’re worried for me, right?”
I give her a quick glance up and down, inspecting all the bumps, scrapes and other wounds and injuries. Most aren’t that serious, but the stitches on her brow and the stained fur around them poke and prod at the ever-present lump of guilt. “Right.”
“And I’m worried for you, right?”
“Right.”
“And we don’t wanna risk losin’ each other, yeah?”
“Of course.”
Applejack gently nods, then looks away with a sigh, ears folding flat against her mane and neck and shoulders sagging. “Well then, what if we… y’know…”
Steeling myself with a silent breath, I sit a little straighter and get ready for what I know she’s about to say; and I know because she’s so much like me. Like she said, I see too much of myself in her to fall for anypony else. And we’ve only grown more and more in tune with each other as the years have rolled on by.
She chews the inside of her cheek for a moment – she does that when she’s thinking deeply about something – but eventually looks up and meets my gaze again, a flash of wary determination in her eyes. “What if we stopped?”
I’m quick on the rebound, cocking an eyebrow. “Stopped?”
And then the confidence disappears, overshadowed by the weight of her own words, and she scuffs her forehoof on the bench. “Bein’ heroes.”
There. It’s finally out in the open. And I can at last shake my head at the obvious – a truth we both know. “We can’t, AJ. It doesn’t work like that. It’s a lifetime gig.”
She looks at me yet again with another, stronger flash of typical Applejack grit and straightforwardness. “You mean until we die? Like you almost did?”
I purse my lips and crease my brows, a spike of some unknown chill racing through me as a thunderbolt would. “Exactly,” I reply with a grim nod. “Equestria is counting on us. Heck, the world is counting on us. We can’t just… give that up because we feel like it.”
“Do you feel like it?”
I blink and shut my mouth, frowning harder as I glance away, that chill sinking even deeper beneath my fur, skin, hair and feathers. “Whether I feel like it or not, we can’t. We’re the Elements, Applejack. We’ve been doing this for years. We have to keep doing this because we’re supposed to. You can’t just buck something as important as this and hope it all turns out okay.”
“Why not?”
“Because it was chosen for us. It’s our destiny. You can’t undo something the universe throws at you. It doesn’t work like that.”
“Twilight chose to become a princess.” Applejack looked ahead, gazing off into the distance, beyond the horizon, maybe imagining the palace all the way in Canterlot. “Celestia said it was her destiny, but… it was her choice in the end.”
“Only on the surface level.” I sigh and shake my head again, lowering my attention to the platform. “I’m glad that she’s glad… but it wasn’t like she’d ever refuse anything from her anyway. And Celestia… had all the power in the world, so if she really wanted, she could’ve made Twilight agree.”
She peers at me from the corner of her eye, her expression stony and troubled, then groans to herself and lets her head sag once more. “We’re gettin’ off topic.”
“Yeah.” I nod half-heartedly, but then my ears perk up a fraction when I realise something. “But while we’re on the subject of Twilight… what do you think she and the girls would say?”
She chews the inside of her cheek. “I trust they’d be understandin’.”
“But would they be?”
A moment of thoughtful silence. “Understandin’, sure. Acceptin’, though…”
“No guarantee.”
Another nod from her, and she returns to sitting upright. “We’ve been a team for so long that it seems impossible to be anything but. It’d scare ’em. Twilight especially, I think, even though she’s doin’ her best to be this noble paragon of sagely wisdom.”
“It’d be like we’re abandoning them. Abandoning her.”
“Puttin’ ourselves before the kingdom. Before the world, even.”
“Exactly.” I shift my weight and sit more squarely on my rump, enough to fold my forelegs and hug an upset stomach. “We shouldn’t be thinking like that.”
Silence falls.
A soft breeze whispers through the valley.
The mare and her son share a giggle as she tickles him.
And all the while, the air feels thicker and harder to breathe, leaden with one irrefutable truth.
“But we are,” Applejack murmurs, facing me with upturned brows, “ain’t we?”
I meet her gaze and hold it, and do my best not to feel too guilt-ridden when I weakly shake my head. “I don’t wanna lose you, Jackie.”
“Nor I you, Dash.” She leans in and plants a long, sweet and yearning kiss on the side of my muzzle, which I savor like a sip of fresh lemonade in the middle of summer, then slides closer and nuzzles her cheek against mine. Body to body, temple to temple, the tips of our snouts almost touch, and her breath is warm and calming. “Nor I you.”
My eyes drift to halfway closed, and then completely shut as I relish the moment – this sense of peace and tranquility, I’m sure Twilight would say. Few things come close to it, and even flying has its limits. I’m just happy that we finally put that bullheaded phase of rivalry behind us, and that we’ve been thick as thieves ever since. I’m also happy for what it’s blossomed into, and how lucky I am to ever have met her, and for the rest of our friends and family to be so supportive.
But now, I suppose, comes the ultimate test.
“Does this mean we’re gonna…?” I gingerly ask, cracking my eyes open to watch for her reaction.
Applejack continues staring ahead, weighing up her thoughts and feelings. “I don’t think there’s any way of gettin’ around it,” she mumbles distantly, then glances over with a little more awareness. “The fear, I mean. It’s always gonna be there until we either stop carin’ for each other or… stop bein’ what the world says we should be. And we both know which is easier.”
I nod, then turn my head and press my face into the side of hers, breathing deep and taking in her natural scent, wrapping my wing tighter around her at the same time. “Doesn’t make it right.”
“Nope.” She bends her neck to give me a better angle, then emits a noise somewhere between a hum and yet another sigh. “But we need this, don’t we?”
“We might.” I casually shrug. “A break wouldn’t be so bad, I guess.”
“Just a break?”
“Yeah.” Despite the mood not moments before, I find myself smiling. “Let’s call it an extended holiday. A retirement trial run.”
“Where you go to live on a farm and grow old together, right?”
I pull back a fraction, then lean forward and give her a peck on the cheek. “Something like that.”
Her eyelids grow heavy, lowering to half-mast, and a sly but genuine grin of her own spreads across her muzzle. “I love it when you get sentimental.”
“I love it when you look like that. Right there. Bruises, stitches, freckles and all.”
The grin stretches wider with a huffed laugh through her nose, and she cocks an eyebrow. “And for the rest of the day, I’m just a tired old hoot?”
“Oh, AJ…” I gently shake my head. “You’re anything but.”
She peers into me.
I gaze into her.
The opportunity is too good to pass up.
I lean a little closer, inviting her to meet me halfway.
The corner of her mouth tugs upwards, and so do her brows, almost as if she’s teasing me – acting haughty at how mushy I’m being – but it doesn’t take long for the mock surprise to fade, and for her head to bow forward… and for her eyes to close… and her lips…
And then we’re snapped out of the spell by another sound.
A whistle.
We look to our left, and there, carefully veering around the corner, is the train. The smokestack billows a dark grey haze, but it’s a smaller engine than the one we’re used to. A consequence of going off the beaten track.
The mare and the colt notice it too, and she tries her best to keep him from getting too excited, giddily prancing about the platform like he’d already earned his cutie mark.
Although we’ve been interrupted, I can’t help but smile some more.
“Saved by the bell, huh?” Applejack remarks. “Just when things were gettin’ cosy.”
I chuckle, nudging her shoulder with mine. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. We’ll have plenty of time for that on the way back – nearly three whole days of nothing but countryside.”
“You spoil me.”
“Totally.”
The train gets closer, and I can feel the thrum of the wheels on the rails from even up here on the bench. There are only a pair of passenger cars, and I don’t imagine either of them would be full; there’ll be a decent amount of privacy as we stare out the window, watching the mountains and valleys all pass us by. It was a relaxing, scenic ride up here too, so I can only imagine what it’s like going down.
“Remember when you liked flyin’ everywhere?”
“I still do,” I hum, touching my head to hers, “just not as much.”
Her hold on me grows firmer.
Closer and closer it draws, until at long last the engine chugs up to the station with a soft rush of air and the high-pitched squeal of its breaks. The dusty, dry, lip-curling scent of burning coal arrives with it. Steam pours out from the wheels beneath the boiler, and the driver – a… zebra, of all creatures – steps out from his compartment in a coughing fit, rubbing at his eyes and swiping at the air in front of him. He must be pretty new to the job if he can’t take the literal heat.
But the colt and the mare don’t seem to mind, one rushing toward him in a flurry of hooves and rapidly beating wings, the other at a more leisurely trot. And when the colt tackles him, he tumbles over with a startled shriek, only to right himself and give the kid a bright, beaming grin and a noogie to boot. But as for the mare, she comes to a halt just out of reach and watches them both with a cordial smile.
This isn’t quite the family reunion I’d expected, if it’s even a family reunion at all. Maybe the stallion is really just a friend, and the colt has taken to him more than the mare has. They don’t look alike anyway, and the adults aren’t even in the same age bracket – he’s in his fifties or sixties, and she’s in her late twenties to early thirties.
I wonder what their story is…
But it isn’t my place to ask, and I’m not about to drag myself away from Applejack just because I’m getting a little curious, much less call them over and interrogate them. And besides, the kid’s pretty adorable. No need to spoil his fun.
“You’d be a good mother.”
I frown in surprise and look to my right. “You think?”
Applejack nods aloofly, too focussed on the trio to meet my gaze. “You’ve got that fire in your heart – that drive to succeed. Energy to spare too, so you’d easily keep up with ’em when we’ve both gone grey in the hair. And you’re fun.”
“Hey, you’re fun too.”
“Sure, but you’re the cool one. The awesome one.”
I give her a wry smirk, though I know she can’t see it, then rub my wing up and down her back. “Well, I think you’d be a good mother too.”
She lets out a single, dry laugh and turns to me with an equally wry and open-mouthed smile. “Why? Because I practically raised my little sister? Don’t forget that I had my brother and Granny to share the burden with, and let me tell you, we did not always get along as well as we do now.”
“But that’s exactly it!” I unfurl my other wing and ignore the pain as I reach around to tap her chest with the tip. “You have experience. Sure, maybe it isn’t the same as adoption, or foster care, or whatever, but at least you know what to expect. Sorta. Me, on the other hoof? I wouldn’t have a clue on whether I’m doing a good job or not. I mean, I could ask my parents… but if I want any advice, I’d want it to come from you.”
“You trust me more than your own ma and pa?”
As my wing folds back into place, I roll my eyes and shake my head with a sigh. “It’s not that, AJ. It’s more like… you’re the anchor to my balloon – or the roots to my tree, if you wanna get thematic.”
“I keep you grounded.”
“Yeah.” I chuckle again, realising how common and, for the umpteenth time, how ironic that phrase is for as long as we’ve been together. Rarity especially, the hardcore romantic, was quick to pick up on it. “Point is, you balance me out, and… not to get too sappy or anything, but I think I’d need that more than ever if I were gonna be a parent.”
She stares at me for a long while, her gaze about as sober as it is appreciative. It’s as if I’ve woken her up to something without meaning to, and she’s pleasantly surprised at how much she likes it. “You’re, uh… seriously considerin’ this?”
I linger on her, then return to the zebra, earth pony and little pegasus colt. And the faint but unmistakable twinge of curiosity seeps in and fills my barrel to the brim. “Maybe.”
Nodding idly, she tracks my gaze, then swings back with a softer, more sympathetic expression. “It’d be a pretty big change, Rainbow. You sure you’re up for it?”
“No,” I calmly admit, then smile at her with a sincere, inviting look. “But we’ll have plenty of time to make up our minds, won’t we?”
“I guess we will.” She pauses for a moment before cocking her head. “Three days, you said?”
“Almost three days.”
She nods once more, then glances at the trio by the train, and her grin seems to double in size and haughtiness when she meets my eyes again. “Then let me shave off some of that time: colt.”
My ears perk up and I blink. “What?”
“If we adopt, I want a colt.”
“…You’re sure?”
“Eeyup. I mean, takin’ care of a filly was hard enough when I’d barely grown out of bein’ one myself. If I’m to be a parent for a second time, I wanna see what it’s like raisin’ a boy.”
…And that’s a fair enough call in my books. Maybe a little selfish on her part, but it’s hard not to pick and choose when you’re essentially shopping for foals. I just hope we come to an agreement in the end, whatever we decide, but I think I have a good idea which way the wind will blow. We tend to know these things before we can even name them. More often than not, there’s simply nothing to argue about.
I’ve always liked that about us.
“It’d be easier if we weren’t adventuring,” I say absently, peering over my shoulder for the mining town itself, picturing the gully where it all went south so fast. “That’s something we could bring up with the girls.”
“Usin’ adoption to masquerade the fact that we just wanna stay safe?”
My brows lower and my lips purse and twist as I switch focus back to her. “I’m not saying that, AJ. But… now that you mention it, I guess it’s gonna be pretty bad no matter how we try to spin it; we’re giving into fear either way, and that’s something I’m sure they won’t accept.”
“Maybe.” She lightly bobs her head from side to side, sighing. “But we can only try, right?”
“Right.” I nod resolutely, but I’m certain that I don’t look the part. “Right…”
The hesitation isn’t lost on her, and her grip on me tightens. “It’s gonna be okay, Dash,” she coos with a consoling pat on the chest. “Whatever happens, it’s gonna be okay.”
“I know, I know, it’s just…” Drifting off, I find myself watching the trio again, and in particular how the mare is hugging the stallion, as if he’s getting ready to leave. “It’s tough, y’know? I’ve heard that love is the death of duty, but it never really hit me until now. I never thought I’d have to choose between loyalty to the realm and… loyalty to you.”
“You make it sound like I’m forcin’ you.”
“You’re not. This is my choice. I just wish I didn’t have to make it.”
“So do I, Dash. So do I.”
She tends to repeat herself nowadays – that’s something I’ve picked up on. Just a habit, I think, but maybe she thinks it makes her sound wiser. Don’t know why she’d feel the need to do that when I consult with her on just about everything anyway.
But it works. It’s a simple trick, but it works.
And I feel all the more assured for it.
…Huh. Maybe that’s why she does it.
“Seems like our time here is almost up.” Applejack nods toward the driver as he hops into the engine cabin again, waving farewell to the mare and colt, who eagerly wave back. “Think we should take our seats, or do you wanna wait for the next one?”
I snort and smirk. “The next one doesn’t come until the same time tomorrow.”
“Precisely.” She turns to me and smiles. “Better hop to it, don’tcha think?”
My smirk widens to a grin. “Yes, I think we should.”
She slides off the bench and stands on all fours, offering a foreleg and an upturned hoof, but she keeps most of her weight off the right hindleg – probably where she got thrown against that rock.
I accept the offer and slide off as well, but end up lingering on her eyes a little longer than I’d expected, her gaze so… soft… and warm… and affectionate… A tender kiss on the nose could only be the next logical step, so I lean in and plant one on her and beam like a lovestruck foal hearing their crush has a crush on them too.
She pecks me on the chin in return, and then, after snatching her hat from the seat and placing it on her head again, we walk together, side by side, for the passenger carriage at the end.
It’s a simple design, painted in an earthy shade of red with a black, metalled roof. We climb up the steps and round the corner, then stroll down the aisle in the centre, passing all the empty booths for one at the very back. The wooden stall creaks as we ease ourselves in, but soon Applejack leans against the wall and the backrest, and I rest against her with my head to her shoulder, and for the time being at least, I can barely bring myself to care about the lack of proper cushioning.
She hums contentedly when I’ve finished settling in, then raises her foreleg and carefully drapes it over my withers, wrapping it around my barrel. “It’s gonna be a long trip.”
I nuzzle into her, pressing my cheek against her neck. “It won’t seem like it when we get there.”
“True.” She gently squeezes, then peers out the window and sighs for the umpteenth time today. “At least we’re takin’ the scenic route. It’ll be nice while it lasts.”
“I know it will.”
A silence settles between us. Outside the carriage, thin, wispy clouds start wafting in from the northeast, and birds twitter away in a nearby tree, almost overtaking the hiss of the engine and shovelling of coal. The train will be moving soon enough, but in stark contrast to how I was feeling less than half an hour ago… I guess a part of me doesn’t want to leave, because this moment right here is perfect. Timeless. A little slice of heaven in a world too big to measure.
I shift my weight and snuggle up to Applejack some more.
“By the way,” she says, and I can feel her caring yet inquisitive gaze fall on me, “what about your fans? I’m kinda surprised you didn’t mention ’em before.”
I stare ahead with listless eyes, already in something of a daze. But strangely, I don’t feel guilty for not thinking about them sooner. “They’ll survive.”
“You ain’t worried they’re gonna think you’re… y’know… slown’ down?”
I quirk an eyebrow, toying at the idea like a cat with a ball of yarn, then smile up at her with a newfound sense of confidence. “Why be afraid of the honest truth?”
She grins down at me. “You’re adorable when you do that.”
“And you’re beautiful all the time.”
She gives me a squeeze, nodding idly, and when the whistle of the train blows, her ears stand tall, and she steadies herself as the coach yanks forward. Her self-assured expression falters for a moment, but with a deep breath and an adjustment of her hat, she seems a little cooler. “Well, this is it. No turnin’ back now.”
“As if we ever could.”
Applejack’s gaze wanders back to me with shrewd, heavy-lidded… stunningly gorgeous and caring eyes. “I love you, Dash.”
“Me too, AJ.” I let my attention drift past her, past the window, past the trees that pass us by, and further still beyond the mountains, to the dream that is our future. “But I love you more. So much more.”
