How About Because I Love You
As Granny Smith exited the kitchen, the voices became more clear, their words more distinct. Which wasn’t exactly a good thing, since the young mares’ voices were set to break the good china as it was. Still, she kept the tray balanced on her walker as she entered the front room, keeping her calm in the face of this latest storm through untold years of practice.
“Dammit, Twi, can’t you just be straight with me this once?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot my marefriend is a mind reader who can tell me all about what I’m feeling!”
“Brought ye some tea,” Granny offered.
“That ain’t what she was sayin’--!” Apple Bloom started.
“Don’t you go speakin’ my mind for me,” Applejack snapped. “Been enough a’that already!”
“Nice an’ hot,” Granny added.
“And just what did you mean, ‘this once?’ So, I’m a liar, now?!?” Twilight shouted. “Oh, well, let’s all bow down to the Element of Honesty, the only honest mare in the world!”
Applejack made a frustrated noise. “Oh, come on now, that’s outta line…!”
“Oh, so I’m the one out of line? Excuse me, I’m not the one demanding to know things that are none of her damn business!”
“Made it with sarsaparilla,” Granny said. “An’ echinacea.” She put the tray on the table, grunting softly with the effort.
“I ain’t demandin’, I’m worried! I love you an’ I care about you!” Applejack cried. “Don’t that count fer anythin’ anymore?!?”
“Plus valerian,” Granny nodded. “An’ a few other things.”
Apple Bloom stepped halfway between the two mares. “Twilight, you know that ain’t what she meant! Applejack, she ain’t sayin’ it don’t count—”
As one, both of them rounded on Apple Bloom, shouting, “SHUT UP, APPLE BLOOM!”
For a moment, there was quiet as the three stared at one another. All three of them breathing hard, each blinking back tears.
Stifling a sob, Apple Bloom spun and ran up the stairs. Applejack stared after her, then looked at Twilight. Both mares looked at each other with equally stricken expressions.
“Twilight, I…”
Twilight nodded. “Go.”
Applejack hesitated for only an instant, torn between her marefriend and her sister. Then she spun and galloped up the stairs.
Twilight sighed, staring at her hooves.
Granny Smith, meanwhile, was pouring tea into two old, brown mugs.
“Always liked a cup a’tea now an’ then,” she mused. “’Specially after a quarrel. Allus helped me cool down, start seein’ straight agin.”
She looked up at Twilight kindly. “I recall yew takin’ yours with honey. That sound right?”
Twilight sighed. “Actually, maybe I should just go.”
“Well, have some tea first,” Granny nodded, stirring in a generous amount of honey. “Yew leave without some hospitality, yew might start thinkin’ yew ain’t welcome ‘roun’ here.”
She looked up at Twilight again and smiled. “An’ I kin tell ye, there ain’t nuthin’ further from the truth.”
Twilight looked up a little, a small, sad smile tugging at her mouth. “Thanks, Granny.”
“Well, yer welcome. Which is kinda th’ point.” Granny sat in her old rocker and gestured Twilight to take a seat as well. Reluctantly, Twilight did, picking up the teacup Granny had made for her.
“Wow, this smells delicious.”
“That’d be th’ valerian,” Granny nodded. “Means ye need it, like as not.”
Taking a sip, Twilight had to admit it was pretty good. About half a cup later, her throat felt a bit more relaxed, and knots along her withers she hadn’t noticed before had started coming undone.
“Alright then. Now, since I’m old, I git ta talk as long as I want. Which means I’m gonna pry a li’l,” the old mare said, topping off her own cup. “Hope ye don’t mind.”
“Uh,” Twilight started.
“Don’t worry,” Granny winked. “I ain’t gittin’ in yer business much. Jus’ a li’l.”
“Well… I guess,” Twilight said. After all, it had been Granny’s living room that she and Applejack had been fighting in. “But may I have some more tea first?”
“Much as ye like. Shoot, there’s even some spice cookies in the cabinet. Go right nice with this, too. Kin I tempt’cha?”
Despite everything, Twilight grinned. “Oh, you can so tempt me.”
“Well, it’s the last one over, up top. Yep, right there. An’ I do declare,” she added as a large tin of cookies levitated its way to the table, “that is a dern handy talent ta have. Bet yew were an early bloomer, weren’t’cha?”
Twilight dipped her cookie into her tea, then started munching, feeling content. “Mm-hmm.”
Granny nodded. “Thought so. An’ a right imp ta keep up with, too. No,” she added with a sly look, “don’t try ta deny it. Been aroun’ too many a’yew young’uns ta be fooled by good manners later in life. Applejack, she was a right hoofful too, an’ no mistake. Apple Bloom ain’t much better, but she’s got more eyes on ‘er, so she kin git up ta less.”
Twilight blinked, trying to imagine describing the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ escapades as ‘less.’
“Really,” she managed.
“Yep. S’a fine line with gals like them,” Granny mused. “Give ‘em too much lead, they run wild. But try ta rein ‘em in too much, an’ they’re gonna buck. It’s that dern middle ground that’s so hard ta find…”
She considered for a second, lost in her memories, then shook her head. “Anyhow. Them two jest about run me ragged, each of ‘em. But Applejack’s a fine mare, an’ Apple Bloom’s comin’ inta her own, at last. An’ I’m right proud a’both of ‘em.”
Twilight looked into her teacup. “Granny, I am so sorry about what happened…”
“What, that? Shoot,” Granny gave a dismissive wave. “These here walls’ve seen worse, an’ likely will agin. ‘Specially if Mac or Apple Bloom ever have foals a’their own.”
Then she broke into a chuckle. “Heck. If anythin’, you gals were remindin’ me a’ Johnny an’ me, when we first got hitched. Only quieter, an’ with fewer flyin’ dishes.”
She shook her head, rocking back and forth. “Daaaang, that was a time. Like ta blow out th’ winders, more’n once. ‘Course, they was paper back then, so it didn’t take as much…”
Granny chuckled, sipping contentedly. “I do declare. Never knew a stallion with a heart so big, nor a head so hard. Though I’ll allow maybe Big Mac comes close.”
Then she looked at Twilight fondly. “Mac ain’t the only stubborn one in the family, neither. But I reckon you know that.”
Twilight looked down again, smiling and blushing as she did. “Yeah.”
“Well, alright then. Yew two had yerselves a blow-out. Dint sound like it was the first, an’ I’ll wager it won’t be the last. So, don’t let it git’cha down. Yew jest work through it, an’ in th’ meantime, always remember yer welcome here. Fair enough?”
“I suppose,” Twilight sighed. “I just… I don’t know if we will get through this. I don’t think we can.”
“Well, now, I’ll allow that ain’t up ta me,” Granny said, scooping more sugar into her own cup. “But I do know that yew two were friends afore anythin’ else. An’ I know that friendship’ll git yew through th’ fire, when romance an’ such cain’t even. So, I’m thinkin’ the smart money’s on yew two.”
Twilight smiled. “Thanks, Granny.”
Granny smiled back, then paused, listening. Finally, she forced herself up, made her way back into the kitchen. “Sounds like they’re finally talkin’,” she said. “Time ta make another pot. Yew comin’ up?”
Reluctantly, Twilight shook her head. “No, I think I’d better head home. I’ll apologize to Apple Bloom next time I see her.”
Granny put the ancient kettle on the stove and lit the fire beneath it. “Well, alright then. You be careful goin’ home, y’hear?”
Twilight hugged her from the side, while Granny squeezed her arm. “I will.”
Then, there was a flash of violet light, and she was gone.
For a moment, Granny Smith contemplated the spot where Twilight had just been standing.
“Huh,” she said. “Well, cain’t git much more careful that that, I guess. Lessee now…”
She reached up, started rummaging through small jars of herbs.
“Sarsaparilla, about three spoons… mint, about one, no, let’s make it two,” she muttered, measuring ground leaves into the water. “Apple Bloom’s gonna have an upset tum from all this foo faw raw. Echinacea, jasmine, hmm...” She paused from adding ingredients to examine the last container.
“Valerian, lessee now…” She peered into the earthenware jar. “Two spoons? Three?”
Suddenly, the voices above her burst into angry shouts. The living room chandelier rocked slightly as an old picture on a nearby wall tilted, then fell to the floor.
Granny shrugged. “Aw, heck with it,” she said contentedly as she upended the entire jar’s contents into the pot. “We was runnin’ low anyway…”
“Apples,” Applejack uttered miserably. “Get’cher apples here.”
“Now see here, young lady,” came a familiar, teasing voice. “Have you a permit for this business of yours?”
With difficulty, Applejack pulled her gaze up from her hooves and into Rarity’s eyes.
Rarity was one of the most beautiful mares in Equestria, and that was a fact. And not just physically. She was sensitive, generous, loyal, kind… the list went on. Small wonder they’d dated.
Well, okay, Applejack allowed to herself, A pony could wonder that Rarity ever said yes. Her sayin’ no later on? Not so much.
An’ now, it’s happenin’ again, she thought miserably. An’ this time, I don’t even get ta know why. Someday I’ll get smart, or at least get tired of feelin’ stabbed.
“Applejack?”
Applejack snapped back into focus. “Hm?”
“My goodness, you are in a state,” Rarity said. “I’d asked how you were doing, darling, but I think I can guess.”
“Aw, I’m okay,” Applejack sighed. “Jus’ feelin’ a little down, is all.”
Rarity gave her a look.
“Okay, maybe a lot down,” Applejack admitted. “But I’ll be fine. I just need a little time, is all.”
“No, with all due respect, you do not just need time,” Rarity said primly. “I hope you’ll forgive the intrusion, but I took the liberty of speaking to Apple Bloom, and I happen to know it’s been over a week since you and Twilight have spoken.
“Furthermore, anypony can see that you’re plainly miserable, and I for one cannot bear to see you this way. You need to do something.”
“Like what?”
“Well—”
“What am I supposed to do?” Applejack asked. “She’s been avoidin’ me, not th’ other way around. If she don’t want to see me, that’s pretty much it, ain’t it?”
Rarity sighed, looking away.
“Aw, dammit. Rarity, I’m sorry. I—”
“No.”
Applejack blinked, startled.
“I know very well that I am not an expert on matters of amore,” the unicorn said into the air. “And I fully appreciate that this may not be what you want to hear, and that I may not be the mare you want to hear it from. But it remains, just the same: sometimes ponies do not know their own minds. And when they do not, it is that confusion that keeps them away, not deliberation.
“Now, of course I’m not advocating stalking behavior,” she went on, her voice cracking slightly. “If the lady says no, then obviously that means no. But until that point, if you have questions to ask, if in your heart you have anything to say to her, regardless of what you may have said before, then it is imperative that you say it! Because believe me, silence involves no less heartache.”
Turning away completely, Rarity squared her shoulders, adding, “I therefore beseech you, as a friend, to please not repeat my own mistakes. Leave nothing unsaid. Speak what is in your heart, all that is in your heart, before it’s too late. And only then, if she still seems to crave solitude, grant it to her.
“Anything less simply adds a poignancy to your pain, and a lifetime of regret.”
Stunned, Applejack could only stare as Rarity walked away. The unicorn’s head was held at the perfect height, her tail in perfect poise. Anyone who knew of her, even by reputation, would expect nothing less.
But sometimes, it was easy to forget that Rarity was the Element of Generosity for a reason. And Applejack knew that nopony else was seeing the well-spoken fashionista as she was at that moment, even if they had heard the entire exchange between them. They would only see what Rarity wished them to see. A lady with class and style. A lady who was controlled. Serene.
The very picture of a mare of elegance who had not, in fact, just re-opened the wounds on her own poorly-healed heart to help a beloved friend in need.
“Rarity!”
But the unicorn mare did not respond. Applejack watched as she vanished into the thin noonday crowd.
“Thank you, Rarity,” she whispered.
Applejack looked down, wiping the tears from her eyes as she did. Then she glanced around herself, at the apples she had brought for market that day.
They’d be fine, she told herself. And even if not, right then there were more important things than business.
Applejack quickly folded up the stall, hung out the Out to Lunch sign, and ran through the crowd towards the Ponyville Library.
Book trees were a rare breed in modern days, and as such things went, the one in Ponyville was a fairly small one. But right then, at that moment, it seemed positively monolithic. Dark. Silent. And completely foreboding.
“It’s just th’ library,” Applejack told herself. “You been in there plenty a’times before. An’ this is Twilight’s house. You know you’re welcome.”
She swallowed. “You can do this.”
But standing in front of the door to the great tree that served as both Ponyville’s library and Twilight Sparkle’s personal home, Applejack found that she wasn’t completely certain of that. After all, while Twilight had caught up with Apple Bloom after school the next day and mended fences with her just fine… Applejack hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her marefriend since their last fight.
But there were questions that had to be asked.
Applejack got about halfway up the path leading up to the place, then hesitated. Yeah, there were questions, alright. And she was pretty sure she didn’t want to hear the answers.
But just staying away, and not knowing?
Applejack’s eyes narrowed.
No.
Gritting her teeth, Applejack made herself march up to the huge door and give it a good, sharp knock. She might get her heart broken. She might even die alone, after all was said and done. Likely both, by the looks of things. But damned if she was going to do either one as a coward.
The door opened slowly.
Applejack looked down, then stared. “Spike?”
To say that Spike didn’t look good was an understatement. Dark purple bags under his eyes, gaunt lines running along his face, he was plainly a drake who hadn’t slept in days, probably hadn’t been eating much, either.
In short, he looked a lot like she felt.
“Oh, hey, Applejack,” the hatchling mumbled. “What’s up?”
“I dunno, maybe I should be askin’ you that,” she said, staring. “What happened?”
He just looked down and shrugged.
“You, um…” Applejack gave a helpless gesture. “You wanna go somewhere an’ talk? Maybe get a bite ta eat?”
“Nah.” He sighed. “I think I’ll just head out for a while. You here to see Twilight?”
“Yeah.”
“’Kay.”
He left the door open for her, started walking past her.
“Spike, wait.” Applejack put a gentle hoof on his shoulder. “You sure there ain’t nuthin’ I can do for you?”
But the drake wouldn’t even look at her.
“Just… see if she’ll talk to you, okay?” He sighed. “She won’t talk to me anymore. I mean, technically she talks… but she doesn’t say anything.”
For a moment, Applejack stared after him as he made his way slowly down the street. Then, she went into the library, closing the door behind her.
“Twilight?”
There were no lights. Everything was where it ought to be otherwise, but… the curtains were drawn, the light crystals dark and cold. She flipped the wall switch, wincing slightly as the chandelier overhead blazed into life.
No Twilight.
Carefully, feeling very much the intruder, Applejack made her way up the stairs. “Twilight? It’s Applejack…”
Twilight’s bed was perfectly made, hospital corners as usual… but this time, it had the distinct look of a bed that hadn’t been used in a while.
Nearby was Spike’s smaller bed, neatly made and maybe more recently used… not that that said much.
No Twilight, of course. But then, what was she expecting?
Applejack crept back down the stairs, and headed into the back of the house and down, towards the lab.
The door opened silently under Applejack’s hoof, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting within. The tapers had long since burned out, the only light source the faint, many-coloured glow of various beakers, bottles, and enchanted jewels collected across the lab’s tables.
Slumped over a stack of crumpled notes was Twilight, her head suddenly jerking up.
“Oh, Spike, you’re back! Good. I think I’ve just about isolated the effects of short-range timeflow spells on local neutrino activity. I think with this we could cast a speed amplification spell without ageing as a side effect, which would be great for… um…” Twilight faltered, her head drooping slightly.
Hesitantly, Applejack crossed the threshold into the darkened lab. “Twilight?”
The alicorn’s head snapped up again, eyes wide as she went on with new intensity, “…well, anyway, it’ll be good for something!”
Her head wobbled uncertainly, and she continued, “And I just finished calculating the most probable effects of vicarious gravitational eddies on… on…”
“Twilight, it’s me.”
Twilight started, then stared at her.
Applejack forced herself to step closer, to look into her marefriend’s exhausted, terrified eyes.
“Twi?” She swallowed, then said, “Twi, I know maybe you don’ want ta talk to me, an’ I get that, I guess. An’ I’ll leave if you want. I just…”
Closing her eyes, she forced the words through her tightening throat, “I just want… if’n you’re gonna send me away, I’d at least like ta know why. ‘Cuz whatever I did…”
Her throat closed completely, blocking any further words, and suddenly she was grabbed and squeezed in a desperate embrace, the bedraggled Alicorn shaking her head furiously, hugging Applejack as hard as she could.
“No!” Twilight cried, “No, no, it isn’t like that, it isn’t, I swear it isn’t…”
They held one another in the poorly-lit lab for a long time, until their tears had run their course.
“It’s about that whole princessy thing, ain’t it?” Applejack sighed at last.
Twilight squeezed harder.
“I ain’t critisizin’, Twi, honest,” Applejack said sadly. “I guess I was thinkin’ you’d figgered that out. An’ I guess that was my failin’. If I’d payed more attention…”
“Yeah, well, if I’d talked to you about it, instead of getting defensive…”
“You did,” Applejack interrupted glumly. “Back just afore the princess summit. An’ like a dang fool, I thought we’d worked it all out.”
“I know,” Twilight groaned. “I talked to everypony about it I could. You and the girls, Celestia and Luna, Spike, Cadence…”
Applejack nodded. “I’d figured she woulda made it okay, if anypony could’ve.”
“And you were right. If it could be made okay, talking to her would have done it,” Twilight replied sadly. “She told me about how she became an alicorn. I can’t go too much into detail – it’s not my story to tell, and it’s really complicated – but basically, there were time shenanigans, and she ended up kind of having two childhoods, as two different ponies.”
She sighed. “And in each one, she lost everything and everypony around her, in the most nightmarish way possible. But somehow – and believe me, I don’t know how – she came out of that able and ready to love unconditionally, but without attachment.
“And with that, she and Shining Armor, they… make it work. They both know what’s going to happen one day, what has to happen, and they’re both using it, somehow, as a way to treasure the present even more.
“And that’s great. It makes sense. It’s completely logical. And that’s what I should be doing. But I… I can’t do that.”
The alicorn looked at Applejack, completely miserable. “She’s so full of optimism, so filled with hope. And I’ve tried, I swear I’ve tried, but I’m not like her! And I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I just can’t…”
Applejack squeezed her gently, caressing her mane.
“Shhhh. It’s alright, sweetheart,” she said. “Ain’t nopony expectin’ you to be somethin’ you ain’t.”
“I’m just so scared,” Twilight wept. “I love you so much, I’m so scared of losing you, so I end up getting angry and pushing you away. And then at the same time somehow I keep avoiding you, almost hoping that you’ll just let it go, even though I don’t know how I’ll live without you…”
Applejack squeezed harder. “I’m right here, hon.”
“…and then I have think of how ironic that is, how stupid, because of course I’ll live without you someday, I’ll have to! You and everypony else that I love, or ever will love! It’s all going to go away, you’re all going to die, and I’m just going to keep on going, forever and ever, while everypony else just…”
“We don’t know that.”
“And then,” Twilight cried, “through it all I just keep telling myself you’d find someone better…”
Applejack’s voice was quiet but determined. “There ain’t nopony better.”
“It’s all so stupid! I’m the one who’s scared, and I know it’s selfish, but I keep telling myself it’s for you, and it’s so stupid! I’m not used to feeling stupid…”
“You ain’t.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you…”
“You ain’t,” Applejack insisted. “You haven’t, an’ you won’t. Not ever.”
“…I just don’t know what to do, so I don’t do anything, and then everything just keeps getting worse and worse…”
“Shhhhh…”
“I’m just so sorry,” Twilight sobbed, “sorry for everything…”
For a time, Applejack didn’t reply. The silence lasted long enough that Twilight even had the thought, This is it. This is where she leaves me.
But instead, Applejack said, “Twilight, would you do me a real solid?”
Confused, Twilight sniffed a little. “If I can.”
“Well, I guess this is a little unfair, but it’s a two-parter.”
“Okay.”
Pulling away just enough to make eye contact, Applejack said, “First part is, get some sleep. Some real sleep, in a real bed.”
“Okay.”
“Promise me, now.”
Despite herself, Twilight smiled a little. “I promise.”
Giving a satisfied nod, Applejack said, “Second, meet me at the farm ‘round five, afore the sun comes up. I’m thinkin’ I might know somethin’ that could help sort this out.”
Puzzled, Twilight frowned. “Like what?”
But the earth mare only shook her head. “Jus’ gonna have ta trust me, hon.”
Twilight had to smile, then. “You know I do.”
Applejack returned her smile, as though everything was already resolved.
“Then I’ll see you in the mornin’,” she said. “’Till then, you get some sleep, y’hear me girl?”
Still smiling, Twilight closed her eyes, already feeling better than she had in days.
“Yeah,” she said. “I hear you.”
Seems like these floors git colder every mornin’.
With determined patience, Granny slowly made her way down the stairs the same she did every morning, stiff as always, before her old joints gradually loosened up proper. She could move downstairs anytime, of course. She knew that if she asked, Big Mac and the girls would clear out some space, or even add on a whole new room.
But that just seemed too much like surrender. And danged if she was gonna go gently.
The lights were already on in the kitchen, the stove fires already lit. That was about as expected; Applejack had still been in school when she’d started getting up earlier than everypony else to take care of breakfast, so Granny wouldn’t have to.
Wasn’t necessary, of course. Not even a little bit. But, Granny had to admit, she appreciated the help.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Granny released her death grip on the railing and grabbed her walker, leaning on it heavily while she caught her breath.
After a minute, she looked up and saw that they had company.
Well, she amended to herself, not exactly company. More like family who hadn’t been back for a spell.
“Mornin’ Twilight,” she smiled. “Jus’ getting’ my wind back.”
Twilight nodded, as though the most natural thing in the world was for climbing down a staircase to be an exhausting event.
“Applejack’s making breakfast,” Twilight said. “I offered to help, but…”
Granny nodded. “Yep, I hear ya.” She scooted slowly towards the table, and Twilight quietly pulled her rocking chair out for her.
“Much obliged, Twilight,” said Granny, lowering herself carefully into the seat. “Glad t’see ye agin.”
Twilight smiled. “Good to see you too. How have you been?”
“Oh, mean, nasty, hard t’git along with.”
“So, pretty much the usual.”
Granny grinned. “Yep. An’ you?”
Twilight’s smile became more pensive. “Better.”
Granny nodded. “Good t’hear.”
“Say, Granny,” Applejack said over one shoulder, “I was wonderin’ if you could tell Twilight about Ponyville’s foundin’?”
Twilight gave Applejack a quizzical look.
“Nuthin’ simpler,” Granny said. Then, addressing Twilight, “Y’want the short version or the long?”
“Uh,” Twilight blinked. “I guess the short version now, and the long version later, when I can take proper notes?”
Granny nodded again. “That’s fine. Not many younguns take a proper interest in their history, allus been glad ye did.
“Now, lessee, it was… yep, it was three hunnerd an’ thirty years ago this Planting, give or take a year or two. We Apples were toolin’ along, as we did back then, lookin’ fer some good land t’settle. Y’know, someplace where we could make green things grow. An’ we was leavin’ a trail a’new trees as we went. ‘Specially apple trees.”
Twilight nodded, allowing herself to become completely absorbed in the story Granny had to tell.
“Come t’Canterlot, an’ ended up gettin’ an audience with th’ Princess herself. Remember, back then, there was just th’ one. Well,” she amended, “Just th’ one we knew about, anyway. No offence t’Princess Luna.
“Anyhoo, she gave us Apples deed t’the land we got today, Celestia I mean. But an orchard don’t grow overnight, an’ so food got pretty scarce. But the zap apples were already there, brought up by the magic of Everfree.
“I reckon the zap apples were part a’th’ reason we settled in, really. An’ they helped bring in other ponies, what with th’jam we kin make from ‘em, an’ all. So, one thing led to another…”
“Hey, Granny,” Applejack interrupted, “How come you ain’t sure about th’ zap apples? Y’know, them bein’ th’ reason y’all settled down here?”
Granny glanced at her granddaughter with a mild irritation. “Well, shoot, Applejack. Yew know I weren’t but a lil filly at th’ time.”
Twilight did a double take. “Wait. What?”
But Granny just nodded. “Sure. Poppa handled all the negotiations back then. Ain’t like anypony asked me about it.”
“Um,” Twilight heard herself say in a faint voice, “Granny, would you excuse AJ and me for a minute?”
“Yew two go ahead. I’ll finish up breakfast.”
“Thank you.”
A few moments later, Twilight and Applejack were outside the old house, the sun just starting to rise in the East. As soon as they were essentially out of earshot, Twilight grabbed Applejack by the face, spinning her around as she did.
“What do you mean Granny was alive when Ponyville was founded?” Twilight demanded.
“Well, she wazh, izh all,” Applejack managed through compressed cheeks. “You can check the Ponyville recordzh, you’ll find her name dere…”
Twilight released her marefriend. “But that means she’s over three hundred years old!”
Applejack grinned. “Yep. Pretty spry for her age, ain’t she?”
Twilight sat down where she was, hard.
“We all call her Granny, partly outta respect, and partly ‘cuz that’s miles easier than includin’ all the greats we probably aughtta be tackin’ on,” Applejack explained. “Shoot, I dunno how many greats she’s even got. Prob’ly a lot.”
After that, Applejack waited silently, giving Twilight time to process. Several minutes passed, the sun rising higher in the sky, spreading fiery colors across the horizon as it did.
Eventually, Twilight spoke, her voice quiet, her eyes wide and staring.
“So… you mean, you might live as long as…?”
But Applejack just shrugged. “Who knows? We Apples don’t get sick as often as other folks, and well, we keep our looks longer. Some folks figger it’s a healthy lifestyle, others maybe it’s got to do with the zap apples. An’ Granny, if she knows, she ain’t talkin’.
“So, yeah. Maybe.
“Then again, maybe we ain’t any more long-lived than other ponies. Seems like Apples generally die from accident or fightin’ somethin’ off afore we can find out for sure, so there ain’t no real way a’tellin’.”
Applejack looked out towards the rising sun. “An’ for that matter, maybe you’ll live like the Two Sisters, jus’ goin’ on forever. But then again, maybe you won’t.”
She looked back at Twilight. “Or maybe we’ll both get ourselves perished tryin’ ta help folks out somewheres tomorra. Ain’t no guarantees, Twi. Never have been, never gonna be.”
Twilight looked away. “I know that! I just… I hate the unknowables! How am I supposed to solve for x, when I can’t even find the values that surround it?”
Applejack sighed. “Yeah, I know. An’ here I am, offerin’ more uncertainty instead a’ solid answers. An’ I’m sorry about that, I guess. But ain’t everythin’ supposed t’be solved, hon.”
Twilight gave her a look that made it abundantly clear how much everything was, in fact, completely solvable.
Applejack laughed, and after a moment, Twilight couldn’t help but join her.
“Alright then,” Applejack amended. “How ‘bout this: since you ain’t got no guarantees in the meantime – includin’ outlivin’ me – how ‘bout ‘til you get it solved, we see how much info we can gather about it together?”
She moved a little closer, adding, “I ain’t got no pressin’ plans.”
Twilight bit her lower lip and looked down. “Are you sure? I mean, I would totally understand if you found somepony better. Somepony you knew you could grow old with, somepony who could, you know, be more responsive to your needs…”
Applejack’s shoulders dropped in sheer frustration. “Aw, dammit all ta Tartarus, Twi!”
Startled, Twilight took a step back. “What--?”
“Dammit, girl, this ain’t about who I wanna go t’bed with!”
Then softer, Applejack added, “This is about who I wanna wake up with.”
She cupped Twilight’s face in her hoof, gently brought her face up again, eyes pleading. “An’ I wanna wake up with you. Every day, for however many days we got.”
Twilight’s shoulders sagged, and she smiled through her tears. “Aw…”
They embraced for a long time. The wind blew gently through both their manes, carrying the spring scent of apple blossoms.
Eventually, Twilight spoke.
“I am an idiot,” she said happily.
“Naw, you just overthink things a li’l.” Applejack paused, then added, “Okay, maybe a lot.”
While Twilight giggled, Applejack went on, “But, hey, lissen, Granny’s mindin’ the eggs an’ toast, an’ I make a mean pancake. So… whatcha think, you think you might be up fer breakfast together?”
Then, taking a deep breath, she went for broke. “Like, maybe from now on?”
Twilight squeezed harder.
Applejack smiled, whispering, “So, that a yes?”
Twilight nuzzled into her mane. “Uh-huh.”
“So, I guess… your place or mine?”
Twilight grinned. “Why not both?”
One of Applejack’s ears went sideways. “Um… both? Y’mean, like takin’ turns?”
But while Twilight smiled, her mind was already calculating fifth-dimensional matrices.
Kissing Applejack’s nose, she teased, “You’ll see.”
Applejack smiled as she looked into her marefriend’s beautiful eyes, smoothing her tri-colored mane back a little as she did.
Yeah, she thought. I sure will.
Every day, from now on.
Author's Note
.
.
.
.
.
.
For those who are curious, Cadence’s story can be found here.
This timeline continues in Murder at the Rarity Boutique.
And, of course, the seminal story that starts it all begins here.
