I’ve never told anypony this. But... sometimes, I feel like a tiny glass statuette instead of a real pony. Brittle, fragile, not really good for all that much. An imitation of the real thing, rendered in miniature.
In my mind, this little statuette looks like it’s made out of solid, finely detailed glass. Hard, tough, tricky as the dickens to break. But it’s nothing but a clever little illusion; in truth, it's filled up with liquid, mixed just so, so that when it’s full, it looks just like me.
On real bad days, I imagine there’s a tiny hole drilled into the base of this statuette, and all the color and vibrancy that makes it what it is, is just draining out of it. Slowly, steadily, drip by drip. Once it’s all gone, it leaves behind something hollow and transparent. Empty.
Ugly.
I stumbled sideways, and leaned heavily against the side of the farmhouse and tried to control my breathing. The letter fluttered to the ground from my nerveless grip, and I absentmindedly put a hoof on it to keep it from blowing away. No sense catching the third degree from Applejack about it later.
I lay down and buried my head in my hooves, secure in the knowledge that I wouldn't be seen. There were no windows in the farmhouse kitchen that looked out on me, and Mac and Sugar Belle were deeper in the orchard, and would be for another hour or so.
A glance down at the letter—now scuffed and dirty—yielded a second lance of pain through my heart. Before, I'd been able to convince myself that maybe I had misheard, misinterpreted, maybe just had my eyes play tricks on me. But now the truth lay plain and clear before my eyes.
Dear Apple Bloom,
I finally got confirmation from the agency: my tour is officially over! Scootaloo and I are coming home to Ponyville as soon as possible. Sorry for the delay; a bunch of stupid stuff came up around the last show. We should be there in about three days. I'm so excited! Scootaloo is too, but she's trying to play it cool. I'm trying not to tease her about it, but she makes it pretty hard sometimes.
We also have some exciting news, and an important question for you. We want to talk face-to-face though, because it's all pretty big. It's nothing bad though, so make sure you don't worry too much!
See you soon!
Love,
Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo
Things had been so simple at first. We all left Ponyville around the same time, mostly by coincidence. I'm pretty sure I surprised the others by bringing it up first. But I'd been feeling like a plus-size hoof in a half-size shoe on the farm for a while, especially since Granny—rest her soul—passed away.
I decided to go on a kind of tour of Equestria to try to learn more about tinkering. I figured that I was already pretty handy with my hooves, so I may as well use that to help out around the Acres, right? I ran it by Sweetie and Scootaloo, and I guess they'd been thinking along the same lines. Neither of them quite knew how to bring it up 'till I said something though.
Sweetie had been thinking about trying her horn at the Gifted School up in Canterlot for lack of any better ideas. I told her to go for it because even if it didn't pan out, she could always talk to Twilight to ask for advice. Sweetie wasn't so sure, but ended up going anyway.
Scootaloo decided to join her parents on... whatever adventures it is they go on. I don't think either Sweetie or I were too surprised. Lofty and Holiday are great, but I think she just missed her mom and dad.
She was the one who came up with the idea to send each other weekly letters. I'm pretty sure that she was afraid of missing us more than she let on. We all thought it seemed like a good idea. It wasn't too much later that we all parted ways, and started getting awful good at writing.
Dear Apple Bloom,
I hope this letter reaches you. I'm sending it to your last return address from Las Pegasus, but I know you said you weren't going to be there for much longer. Did you ever find Flim and Flam? I still can't believe that you went looking for them first, but I guess their machines were pretty impressive. Just don't let them swindle you into buying anything!
Things are going fine over here. I'm still settling in now that I'm done with my first week of school. Everything is kind of overwhelming. Did you know that Twilight instituted some reforms for the Gifted School? Now it's Celestia's School for Gifted Spellcasters—I have a few kirin and changeling classmates! It's kind of weird though—a lot of these Canterlot unicorns seem really uncomfortable with them. I guess living right next to the Friendship School for all those years sort of inoculated us to all that, huh?
Living away from home is weird, but at least Rarity will be up in Canterlot every once in a while. And I guess if I really miss Ponyville, it's only a train ride away.
Let me know if you hear from Scootaloo. I don't have an address for her yet, and I'll bet that it's going to change at least as often as yours.
Yours,
Sweetie Belle
Hey Apple Bloom!
Sorry it took me so long to write! It took forEVER to track down my parents, and even longer to figure out a good place to get my mail sent to. I think I've got it all squared away for now though. This return address should be good for at least another month, and I'll try to nail down the next one when I know more about where we're going next.
I'm actually super excited about what I'm doing right now. You remember Daring Do and the Ring of Destiny, the book where Rainbow Dash helped out Daring Do? Well I'm actually helping explore the ruins of the Fortress of Talacon!! Mom and Dad are cataloguing some of the rare species of animals that lived in the Fortress. And I guess all that time hanging out with Rainbow Dash paid off. I was a big help in spotting and disarming traps in the ruins.
Anyway, I gotta go. We're gonna explore the inner ruins today, and I need to be on top of my game!
Later,
Scootaloo
Dear Apple Bloom,
Good for you! I have to admit, I'm a little surprised that you decided on the Manehattan University of Applied Engineering; I still remember your tirade against "gol'danged book learnin'" back when we were still in Miss Cheerilee's class. I'm proud of you though! It sounds like you learned a lot from exploring Equestria and talking to all those tinkerers and engineers. I'm impressed you managed to track down that old inventor out by Sire's Hollow—you were so sure he'd vanished in your last letter!
Things aren't so great over here though. I thought things were bad before, but I'd mostly gotten used to my snooty Canterlot classmates ignoring me. But then, I went to have a lunch with Twilight and now it's even worse! Now they're all sucking up and pretending to be my friends just because they hope I can get them "in good with the Princess". Ugh. The other out-of-towners are fine, and probably the only reason I'm still keeping my head on straight.
I actually talked to Twilight about it a little bit (which made the problem worse, ha-ha), and she said that even one or two terms at the Gifted School is pretty prestigious, and lots of unicorns, sorry, spellcasters don't graduate. She even admitted that a full degree isn't the right choice for everycreature.
She was gritting her teeth when she said that though.
I went out to karaoke with a few of my friends here at school the other night and I had a great time. I wonder if I could be a singer? It is a part of my cutie mark...
Anyway, it sounds like Scootaloo is living it up. I'm glad that the two of you seem happy at least. Hopefully this is just a passing cloud.
Yours,
Sweetie Belle
Hey AB and Sweetie!
Thanks a bunch for sending that double-writer doohickey, Apple Bloom. It works great! I'm using it now to write this letter. I'm gonna try to use it to write to both of you from now on, because I noticed that I was telling some stuff to one of you, and some stuff to the other, and I could never keep it all straight. Now I can just write one letter and tell you both everything!
I may also be looking forward to cutting my letter writing in half. Mouth cramps are no joke.
Soooo... as you can probably tell from my return address, we're still out in the deserts around Somnambula (the town, not the pony). This is the first time we've been back in town for like, a month, and we're really just here to stock up. Gonna be sleeping out in the tent again tonight.
I never thought I'd say this, but I'm starting to really miss my bed.
Sweetie, how's music school going? I didn't even know Las Pegasus had schools. Except for Flim and Flam's bunk friendship school, I guess. Makes sense though. All those resorts' entertainers gotta train somewhere, right?
Apple Bloom, you knocking 'em dead with all your cool junk? You said your instructor was really impressed with the double-writer, right? Maybe you could sell a bunch of them! You could get totally rich!
Hope you're both doing good.
Scootaloo
Dear Apple Bloom and Scootaloo,
Oh my goodness! Congratulations, Apple Bloom! You're a bona fide graduate now! I'm sure Applejack, Big Mac, and Sugar Belle will be glad to have you back on the farm. Rarity tells me that Applejack and Rainbow Dash are still totally-not-dating. She also says that they're getting totally-not-married any day now, so brace yourself for that.
Scoot, are you okay out there? You've sounded kind of... tired, I guess, in your last few letters. You can talk to us, okay? Crusaders forever, remember? ♥
Thanks for all the encouragement, by the way! I'm doing a lot better out here in Las Pegasus than I was in Canterlot. I don't have ponies brown nosing me every minute of the day, and my classmates actually care about getting their work done. The upper-level classes in the Gifted School were like that too, but I don't think I'm really cut out for high level magic. Do you remember when we wished ourselves into adult bodies back when we were foals? And I teleported Biscuit out of the way when their pet, Bloofy, went nuts?
Well, turns out that if you get teleportation wrong enough you can arrive in more than one piece. Or merge with something else. I guess I just got really lucky. Singing has way fewer chances for accidental mutilation, so I'm pretty happy with my change in career so far.
It's weird—when they admitted me to the school, I had to take an entrance exam. Based on my performance, they said I was good enough that I could skip most of the practical classes. So pretty much all of my courses are going to be theory, with a few remedial classes in vocal training. My advisor says I'm probably looking at no more than one or two semesters for a degree. He may also put me in touch with an agent—he says I'm good enough that he thinks I could do "something special" for my capstone project. I'm not totally sure what he means, but it sounds like it could be exciting.
Hugs and Love,
Sweetie Belle
OH MY GOSH
I'M GOING ON TOUR
THAT WAS THE "SOMETHING SPECIAL"
I'M SO EXCITED! I included the tour schedule with this letter! It's going to be all over the place!
AAAAAAAAAA,
Sweetie Belle
Hey girls,
I guess I was the last one to notice, huh? Both of you called me out on it. In separate letters. So, I finally sat down and did my least favorite thing: thought about it.
(I also talked with my parents about it, but that's not as funny)
I think I'm gonna take a break from exploring the world. I've had a good run for these past few years, but I miss helping other ponies with their cutie marks, and I especially miss you two. (I also miss beds and hot meals, but don't you dare tell anypony I said that)
Sweetie, I'm actually pretty close to Dodge Junction right now. How would you feel about an extra groupie for the rest of your tour?
Love you both,
Scootaloo
Dear Apple Bloom,
Scoot and I have been talking, and we both think that it's high time we came back to Ponyville. I'm going to talk to my agent about heading straight there after the tour is over. I definitely don't have to worry about my grade—both my advisor and my agent have been pretty clear about that. I don't think it'll be a problem, but there's always logistics stuff to deal with.
Either way, I should know more by the end of the month. Worst case scenario, I have to head back to Las Pegasus to clear some things up first, and it'll take us an extra week. I'll let you know as soon as I know more!
We both miss you lots and lots. Can't wait to see you again.
Lots of love,
Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo
And that had been the last letter I'd gotten. Until today.
I packed the last few pieces of the market stall into the wagon, and helped Applejack into the harness. The sun had been merciless today, and I wiped a streak of sweat off my forehead before it could drip down into my eyes. "I think I'm gonna swing by the hardware store and pick up a few things before I head on back," I said. "I had a great idea about how to get the sortin' machine workin', but I wanna pick Gear Head's brain about it a little. Y'all gonna be all right without me?"
"Pshaw," Applejack replied, grinning as she finished shrugging the harness into place. "I been cartin' this stall around all by my lonesome since I had to carry you in it too."
"I dunno!" I said cheerfully. "You been getting' kinda rickety lately. I think I just about out-bucked you last harvest."
Applejack snorted. "In your dreams, squirt."
I grinned and gave her a friendly nuzzle. "Squirt? You've been hanging around Rainbow Dash too much!"
She just rolled her eyes and heaved forward, the cart creaking into motion behind her. "You're just gonna have to get used to that!" she called back.
I rolled my eyes back and turned away, shaking my head fondly. Everypony knew that she and Rainbow were fixing to tie the knot any day now. Shoot, even Sweetie Belle knew it, and she hadn't been home to Ponyville for more than a week at a time in years.
As my thoughts turned to Sweetie Belle, my expression slowly fell into a frown. The last letter I'd gotten from her and Scootaloo had been a little over a month ago. I wanted to assume the best, but after getting—mostly—weekly letters for years, it felt a little bit like being abandoned.
I trotted into the shadowed eaves between two buildings. It was a slightly longer route to the hardware store, but it would keep me in the cool for longer than the faster route.
I hadn't seen either of the other Crusaders face-to-face in three years. Scootaloo hadn't been back to Ponyville at all, and Sweetie and I kept missing each other by days—either our schools had different holiday schedules, or one of our families was out of town. But the letters had been constant—at least one a week, usually from both, but almost always from at least one. I knew for a fact that Scootlaoo was away from towns (and mail service) for weeks at a time, so she had to be building up a backlog of letters, then instructing the post office to send them out in batches. Her letters had always been a little slow to respond to things that Sweetie and I sent, so the evidence matched.
A fond smile snuck onto my face as I thought about Scootaloo, laden from head to hoof with a bag full of letters, sternly commanding some beleaguered postal pony that the letters had to go out "one a week, and no more!" I giggled as I pictured her expression; intense, focused, violet eyes flashing.
Scootaloo had never bothered trying to send letters to me directly when I was wandering from place to place around Equestria, tracking down all the tinkerers and engineers I could get my hooves on. She just sent them straight to the Acres, and Applejack would send them on to me. It was easy keeping Applejack apprised of where I'd be on any given week because she didn't move around constantly like the three of us kept doing.
Sweetie, on the other hand, did her best to keep up with where I was. It didn't always work out—sometimes I'd have a letter finally make its way to me, travel stained and covered in CHANGE OF ADDRESS stamps, months late. I kind of liked those—they felt like little time capsules, and usually let me piece together bits of missing context from the letters that I'd already read. It sort of felt like living a detective novel.
Getting a letter from either one of them always set my heart to racing, and my hooves a-prancin'. My classmates at school always made fun of me, because they could always tell I'd gotten a letter. Kept asking me if I was sure I wasn't a pegasus, what with the way I floated around the rest of the day.
I was so darn excited to see the two of them. They had to be feeling the same way too. Maybe they'd just been too excited to write. Or were just stuck traveling back from... uh... wherever Sweetie's last tour location had been.
I turned a corner, came to the end of the alleyway, and frowned. Some fool pony had left a huge pile of boxes blocking the other end. Unless I felt like climbing, I wasn't getting out that way. And with this darn heat, it was just about all I could do to lift one hoof and put it in front of the other. I groaned and turned around and began trudging back to the market square.
As I approached the mouth of the alley, I heard a pair of very, very familiar voices. My heart gave a single bone-jarring thump that I felt all the way up in my throat before it started fluttering like a hummingbird's wings. My ears perked up and my tail gave an involuntary swish as I sped up as much as I dared. I peeked around the corner of the alley and...
...there they were. Almost exactly as I remembered them.
Sccootaloo was a little taller, a little leaner. Actually, scratch that, I thought as I peered closer, a lot leaner. She'd put on some serious muscle while she'd been gone, and not a bit of it was wasted. She was toned, and angular, and sleek, like a sprinter. She looked ready to burst into motion even while standing still. She'd grown her mane out too—she wore it in a braid that dangled down one side of her neck.
Sweetie had somehow grown even more beautiful in her absence. Her bubblegum-and-berry curls framed her face—subtly more developed than the last time I'd seen it—with an artistry I'd never seen on her before. Her frame, in contrast to Scootaloo's, had filled out, notably around the flanks and shoulders.
They were standing together where the apple stall had been, talking in quiet voices to each other. They were facing away from me, their faces only partially visible from this angle.
Given that they were right on top of the apple stall's usual location in the market square, I'd bet they were looking for me. Maybe I could give them a little surprise, and pop up between them. I crept forward, planting each hoof carefully, ears poised for any little noise. As I did, their conversation faded into clarity.
"...wouldn't she meet us at the train station?" Sweetie Belle asked, rubbing one foreleg with the other.
I stopped. Were they talking about me? Sweetie sounded worried.
Scootaloo shrugged. "Maybe she hasn't gotten the letter yet. We left at pretty much the same time it did, and well... you know Derpy."
Sweetie Belle sighed. "I've been so worked up about telling her. I'm tired of waiting!" She gave a little stomp.
Telling me what? What was going on? I crept back into the shadows of the alley, quiet as could be.
"Hey, relax," Scootaloo said, draping a foreleg around Sweetie's withers. "Everything'll work out. Let's go grab something cold to drink, get outta the heat for a bit, then head up to the Acres. Betcha anything she's up there."
Then Scootaloo drew forward and gave Sweetie a gentle, intimate nuzzle, and an affectionate peck on the cheek. Sweetie blushed, returned the nuzzle, and said something in return.
I didn't hear what it was. My hooves felt numb. Slowly, quietly, I sat down on my butt and stared as they walked away—together. I swallowed, feeling strangely lightheaded and tried ignore to feeling of sour bile churning in my stomach. I lay down in the dirt, and closed my eyes, and took deep breaths.
Were... Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle... together? That sure wasn't the sort of kiss you shared with just-a-friend.
And why was I reacting like this?
I stood up and shook my head. I peered out of the alley—no sign of the other two. Maybe... maybe I'd just take a walk on up to the Acres. That was where they were expecting to find me, and I could take the chance to clear my head.
Of course, when I arrived at the Acres, that was when I'd found the letter.
We also have some exciting news, and an important question for you. We want to talk face-to-face though, because it's all pretty big. It's nothing bad though, so make sure you don't worry too much!
It was pretty obvious what Sweetie had meant, in retrospect. She and Scoot were together. Dating. An item. Romantically involved. They wanted to fill me in, because I was important to them.
But not important in the same way.
...was I jealous?
I scooped up the fallen letter, took a deep breath and went inside. The least I could do was deal with this in the cool of the farmhouse, instead of the sweltering afternoon sun. The familiar smells of spiced apples, old wood, and hard work immediately soothed my nerves. I didn't quite share Applejack and Mac's devotion to the farm, but there was still nothing like coming home.
I didn't feel jealous. There was none of that hot resentment, or sour regret that usually came with it. Instead, I just felt like I'd lost something precious. Like I'd been looking forward to a fresh, hot, homecooked meal after working all day, then got home just in time to see it get mistakenly served to someone else.
Jumpin' jackrabbits, did I just compare Sweetie and Scootaloo to a homecooked meal?
"–pple Bloom! Hello! Anypony home in there?"
I jumped and whipped around to stare at the unexpected voice. Oh. It was Applejack. Right. "Uh. Sorry! Just got something' on my mind, is all. I'm fine!"
Applejack squinted at me for a long moment, then turned back to the pot simmering on the stovetop. She stirred it a few times, tasted it, then nodded to herself, satisfied. She opened the oven, and transferred the pot from stovetop to oven, then doffed her oven mitts and turned to me resolutely. "Right. That's sorted for now. Come with me." She made her way to the living room at a brisk trot.
I followed uncertainly. "Uh, sure. What for?"
"Because I ain't heard you tell me a whopper like since you were little. Remember when you tried to convince me that it was Big Mac who wet your bed?" I stammered something in response, but Applejack ignored me. "So, we're gonna sit down, and you're gonna tell me what's wrong."
My hooves nailed themselves to the floor. "Uh. And what if I don't really wanna talk about it?"
Applejack settled onto the couch and arched an eyebrow at me. "Then I reckon you'd tell me so. Do you wanna talk about it?"
Maybe not all of it. But... gosh, did I ever need to talk about some part of it. I flopped down onto the couch with a sigh. I opened my mouth, and paused, uncertain where to start. "Have you..." I trailed off, uncertain. I tried again, "Have you ever seen somepony have something you want? Something that makes 'em real happy? But instead of being happy for 'em, you're just... sad? And... does it make you a bad pony if you are?"
A pair of strong legs enveloped me, and crushed me tight against a chest that smelled like apples and cooking spices. "Oh, sugar cube," she said, her voice hitching slightly. I could feel it rumbling through her chest, and I momentarily allowed myself to be transported years into the past, when I was smaller and this was the safest place in the world. "I know exactly what you mean. And no, you ain't a bad pony. Just means you're equine like the rest of us. In fact," she said, pulling out of the hug and sliding off the couch, "let me show you somethin'."
She trotted over to the bookshelf and pulled a photo album off one of the high shelves. She returned to the couch and settled in next to me, and opened to the first page. It was filled with photos from years ago—a gawky preteen Applejack herself featured prominently in many of them, all legs and neck. Teenaged Big Mac also made an appearance, struggling to fill his father's too-large yoke. And Granny Smith often joined them, holding a much tinier, wigglier version of me.
The first few photos were of the entire extended Apple clan, all bearing grim expressions, and wearing somber, formal clothing. Later pages in the album revealed only the Ponyville Apples, often posed in front of the farmhouse and with a visiting guest—usually also an Apple.
"These photos are from right after Ma and Pa passed away." She turned the page. "Lotta folks came by, 'round then. 'Just visiting', they said, but I think we all knew it was because we were barely keeping things together." She turned the page again. "You notice anything about me in all of these?"
"Uh..." I took the photo album from her and flipped back and forth a little, looking for some common factor. I saw a lot of tight smiles that grew gradually more genuine over time, and a lot of weary eyes, but nothing stood out in particular.
Applejack took the album back, and turned back to the beginning. "I ain't smilin'. Not in a single one of these. In fact, I'm frownin' in most of 'em. I was angry." She snorted. "And stupid. For a real long time. Don't think I need to tell you the story of how I tried," and her accent morphed into that of a high socialite's, "living the life of a respectable gentlemare in Manehattan." She snorted.
I took the album back from Applejack and paged through it again, paying attention to her expression in the photos this time. She was right—the happiest expression I saw from her was a furrowed brow and pressed lips.
"I'm still not sure I understand," I said, frowning. "Why're you showin' me these?"
"Well," Applejack said, looking away, "eventually, I stopped bein' quite so angry. The hurtin' never quite left, though." She looked down and took a deep breath. "It still comes up sometimes, when I ain't expectin' it. Just a few months ago, I was over at Twilight's for her birthday, and all the girls were there, and Twilight's family too. I was crabbier'n a beach at sundown. Had to step outside for a bit before I blew up at everypony. It wasn't until Pinkie came out and talked some sense into me that I finally realized that I wasn't mad—I was hurtin'. Seein' Twi with her folks like that got me all twisted up inside and I didn't even realize it." She turned back to me and laid a hoof on my shoulder. "Seein' somepony else enjoy somethin' you can't have hurts, and there ain't no shame in that. You just gotta realize it, and do your best to avoid hurtin' anypony else."
"Um," I said, biting my lip, "I dunno if my situation is quite as big a deal as... all that."
Applejack closed the photo album and shrugged. "Maybe not. Point stands though—you ain't a bad pony if you see something you can't have, and it hurts. Grievin' for something you lost—even if it ain't all that big a loss—is natural. I did it, Mac did it, even Granny, rest her soul, did it." Applejack slid off the couch and trotted over to the bookshelf and returned the photo album. She turned back to me and returned to the couch, "I ain't gonna pry into your business if you don't want me to. Just thought that knowin' this might help you out with whatever's troublin' you." A conspiratorial grin slid onto her face and she continued, "But mostly, I did it because I thought going through an old photo album where you get to see your older sister making a darn fool of herself makin' funny faces would cheer you up a little."
In spite of myself, I let out a little involuntary bark of laughter, then clapped my hooves over my mouth, embarrassed. I lowered them after a moment, still smiling. "Okay, you got me."
Applejack gave me one last hug, then glanced over at the kitchen. "I'd best go check on dinner. You gonna be all right?"
I nodded. "I think so. Holler if you need me?"
"You betcha."
Then, just as Applejack was on the threshold of the kitchen—"Applejack?"
"Yeah?"
"How'd you know when you were in love with Rainbow Dash?"
She turned all the way around, and gave me a long searching look. "Well," she said at length, smile growing on her face, "I'd say it was around the time she kissed me smack on the lips with no warnin'. I just about walloped her good and asked her what the hay she thought she was doing. Then I realized it felt awful nice, so when she finished, I gave her a big ol' smooch of my own. Never seen her look so confused before, or since." She chuckled.
Applejack was on the verge of opening the oven when a heavy knock came from the front door. "Now who in the world could that be?" she muttered. "I'll get it," she called to me.
I nodded my thanks, deep in thought on the couch.
So maybe I wasn't jealous after all. Maybe I was... grieving? The other Crusaders and I had always had a special connection. Something so unique that it was permanently etched onto our flanks, visible for the whole world to see.
So... to see them being intimate like that, in a way that I couldn't be... maybe I was grieving for an opportunity lost. They were going somewhere I couldn't follow, together.
Could I even love one of them? I'd sure thought of both mares and stallions that way—hard not to figure that one out real quick in a place like the Manehattan College of AppEng. Had plenty of fun one-night things, but nothing that ever really felt right. I'd never even thought of the other Crusaders that way. But was it because I wasn't interested?
Or was it just because I'd just never considered it?
"Apple Bloom? It's for you," Applejack called, a note of uncertainty in her voice.
A sliver of dread slipped into me. I stood up. "Coming."
Applejack met me before I reached the door, my view of it still obscured. "I gotta take care of dinner. You... just lemme know if you need me, sugar cube." A quick hug, and then she was gone.
And standing just outside the door, were Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle.
"Apple Bloom!" they both chorused, then immediately smothered me in a pair of simultaneous crushing hugs. I returned them with just as much enthusiasm, and took a deep breath—Sweetie's lilac-and-vanilla shampoo, and Scootaloo's mélange of preening oil with an undertone of something sharp and coppery. A wave of relief and familiarity washed over me. I had missed this.
Then, I remembered the letter, and the feelings of comfort vanished.
"Uh, hey girls!" I said, pulling free and giving a shaky smile. I slipped out the door and closed it behind me. I decided not to waste any time beating around the bush. "I uh... I got your letter."
Both their eyes lit up. "Oh!" Scootaloo said, "Then why weren't you at the train station to meet us?"
"Yeah," Sweetie said, her face rapidly morphing back into concern. "We were a little worried."
"Oh," I said, "well. I, uh, didn't get it until a little bit ago, just after we finished up sellin' for the day."
Scootaloo bumped Sweetie's shoulder with her own. "See? We just missed her by a little bit. No big deal."
"Are you sure?" Sweetie frowned at Scootaloo, and turned to me, leaning closer.
I leaned back and looked away. Growing up with the Element of Honesty herself had trained me out of most forms of lying, the little white ones included. I sighed. "I saw you two in the market earlier today." I glanced up, only to be met by a pair of confused stares.
"...so?" Scootaloo said, one eyebrow raised.
My face twisted up in a frown. Seriously? "...and I saw you kissing?" As their expressions turned to embarrassment, I continued hurriedly, "I ain't mad, or anything like that! I was just..." I shuffled a little and looked down. "...surprised. I was actually gonna sneak up on the two of you and give you a little scare, but when I saw that I didn't want to... y'know. Intrude." I knew I should stop, but for some darned reason, my mouth kept on running: "And I guess I was a little sad? Because... being together like that, the two of you have gotta be awful close. And I missed the two of you a lot, and seein' you be close like that in a way I can't be... well, it's, uh. Well. I'll be okay, but... it hurts." My voice dropped into a whisper, and I felt the corners of my mouth begin to tremble and turn down involuntarily. Darn it, why was this making me all emotional?
There was a long, meaningful silence, as I continued to stare at the dirt, and did my best to control my breathing.
There was a tentative hoofstep toward me. "Apple Bloom?" came Sweetie Belle's voice. "Were you maybe wishing that... you could've been the one doing the kissing? Or maybe being kissed?"
It was all I could do to nod. "Yeah," I said in a hoarse whisper.
Another moment of tense silence, before there came a second, single hoofstep. This time from Scootaloo. "Well... you remember how our letter also mentioned that we also had an important question?"
I actually had forgotten that. But what could Scootaloo have—
My eyes shot open in shock as a weathered hoof pulled my face up, and a pair of lips roughly pressed themselves against mine. My vision was filled with a shock of orange, then a splash gorgeous lilac purple as Scootaloo opened her eyes. "Wh—" I managed, before Scootaloo withdrew, only for Sweetie Belle to take her place, wearing a soft smile. She gave me a gentle, lingering kiss of her own, then withdrew as well.
I blinked rapidly, then looked back and forth between two of them as my brain shorted out. "B-but I thought–the two of you–all three of–me too? Can you do that?"
Scootaloo's soft smile morphed into a more familiar smirk. "Pfft. When have we ever cared if we can or not? Let's do it anyway!" She darted forward, and roughly nuzzled my left cheek.
Sweetie Belle wore a soft, content smile and nodded. "Cutie Mark Crusaders forever, remember?" She stepped forward and added her own gentle nuzzle to my other cheek.
My sputtering died down into silence, and Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo pulled back slightly, but remained nearer than they had been. Apparently, my blank, forward stare lasted a little too long, as their expressions faded into uncertainty.
"Uh... Apple Bloom? That was... okay, right?" Scootaloo asked.
I took a deep breath and shook my head rapidly. "Yes!" I said, far too loudly, then cringed at the volume of my own voice. "Yes," I said more quietly. "I. Um. Just surprised. Still. Again?" Oh no, I was babbling.
Sweetie Belle rubbed the back of her neck. "Oh good. I thought we messed up for a second there."
Seemed it was time for a second deep breath, and an attempt to actually compose myself this time. "So, um. How'd all this happen, anyway?" Good, I was asking coherent questions. Progress!
Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo exchanged glances. Scootaloo nodded at Sweetie who shrugged, and nodded back. They both turned back to me, and Sweetie spoke. "It was Scoot's last letter to me and you that made me think. She mentioned that she missed helping other ponies with their cutie marks in it, remember?" She waited for my nod, then continued, "When I read that, it hit me like a ton of bricks—so did I. I'd had a chance to help a few ponies out in Canterlot, and again in Las Pegasus but not that many. Once I realized it, I couldn't get it out of my head—I really missed it."
"When I finally caught up to Sweetie's tour," Scootaloo said, taking over, "I met her backstage after the show, and we got to talking. I told her that I really missed it too, and she," Scootaloo emphasized the word and gave Sweetie an affectionate noogie, "comes back with 'And I also really missed you,' and kisses me!"
Sweetie Belle blushed furiously and ducked out from underneath Scootaloo's hoof, then puffed up her cheeks in indignation. "I was lonely! Being on tour is stressful, and everyone around you is like.... either an acquaintance or your boss. But, um," her blush intensified, "I still think it was a really good kiss."
"It was!" Scootaloo said, and my stomach did a little flip-flop. "But," she continued, turning to me, "we both realized right away that it was... wrong somehow."
"That it was missing something," Sweetie added. "We both just sort of looked at each other and made a face. I told Scootaloo that we'd do a countdown-confession; we'd count down from three, then both say what we thought was missing at the same time."
Scootaloo grinned and turned back to me. "We both said your name."
That did it. The dam finally broke, and I gave one huge, wracking sob before wrapping both of them up in my legs and squeezing them as tight as I could. I buried my face between their chests and wept wildly for a moment. Then, with tears and snot streaming down my face, I pulled back and did my best to look them both in the eye, blurry though my vision was. "That's the sweetest thing I ever heard," I blubbered, then went back to crying all over the two of them.
The other two wrapped themselves around me and waited until eventually, with one final honking snort, I cried myself empty. I extricated myself from their combined hug, and wiped my eyes, a little embarrassed. "Thanks," I mumbled. Then, more clearly. "You girls are the best. You know that, right?"
"Heck yeah! We're awesome!"
Sweetie Belle smiled. "So? How about it? Are you..." she rubbed one foreleg with another and looked down momentarily. "Are you willing to try a relationship with all three of us? Together?"
I was struck breathless for a moment, hearing Sweetie lay it out plainly like that. But I knew my answer—had known it since I'd spent several minutes crying into their chests: "Yeah! Yeah, I sure am. I dunno how it's gonna work, but I wanna try."
"I'll bet anything Twilight has some books about this." Scootaloo said, elbowing Sweetie gently.
Sweetie didn't seem to notice, and looked pensive. "I can almost guarantee that Rarity has some. Though I'm not sure if we'd be able to hear her advice over all the squealing..."
"Y'know," I said, "I reckon we got plenty of time to figure this out at our own pace. How do you girls feel about stayin' for dinner?"
Both of them immediately lit up at the idea—a homecooked Apple family meal was always a treat, and the two of them had gone without for three years. I grinned, opened the farmhouse door and stuck my head inside. "Hey Applejack!"
"Yeah?" she called back.
"We got enough food for two more?"
"Sure, but you're cookin' tomorrow!"
"Deal!" I swung the door wide and turned back to Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo. "C'mon in, girls. And..." I darted forward and stole a tiny kiss from both of their lips before pulling back with a grin. I pranced in place a little, enjoying their dumbfounded expressions. "…we can share the good news."
After a moment, the spell broke, and the two of them lunged forward, laughing, and swept me inside on a storm of affectionate nuzzling. As they carried me toward the wonderful smells and warmth of the kitchen, I felt my heart swell with joy and, for the first time in three years, felt truly complete.
The thing about that little glass pony though, is that she’s not really meant to stand alone. She’s meant to be accompanied by other things that’ll protect her from her own fragility. Things that’ll make her seem beautiful even if she’s hollow on the inside.
Things to remind her that hollow ain’t the same as empty.
Author's Note
Interested in my ramblings about this story? Check out the blog post.
