By 6:16 AM, Applejack was already halfway up an apple tree with a red ball trap in hoof.
Most ponies thought that all farmponies needed to get through their work was brute strength. Strength to pull the plow, strength to lift the bales, strength to fix the heavy equipment with nothing but elbow grease. And heck, Orchards and Farms were the same thing to them, really. Orchards were clearly nothing but apple farms, with all the same principles to match.
Clearly.
Applejack snorted derisively as she hung onto the trunk of the tree with her hind legs, leaning almost parallel to the ground as the rope at the end of the ball trap dangled around her foreleg. A different ball trap dangled in front of her muzzle; already, it smelled vaguely of rot.
One, two…
With practiced grace, Applejack curled up and grabbed the trap by the string with her free hoof, looping it over and around the branch it dangled from and sliding it down her foreleg. Applejack uncurled, relaxing for a second before curling up again and sliding the fresh trap onto the branch in the old trap’s resting place.
Huffing softly, Applejack shimmied down the tree again and turned towards a tub of soapy water next to the tree. Her forehoof flicked, ever so slightly, and the trap slid off of her foreleg and plopped down into the tub.
“One down.” Applejack leaned over, bit the string of another fresh ball trap and carried it towards the next tree in the row.
Only a couple hundred left to go this morning.
By 9:03 AM, Applejack was gargling mouthwash in front of the bathroom sink. Swish, swish, swish, spit—and it was done. With a slight shake of her head, Applejack wiped her mouth with the back of her foreleg and looked in the mirror.
She looked...okay. A little baggy-eyed, but that was what coffee was for. A little dirty, but that was what a bath was for. Her mane…
Okay, she needed a longer bath than usual.
Wait. What was she saying? Baths were supposed to be a functional deal—you got rid of the grime so that you wouldn’t carry anything around you that might make somepony sick. They weren’t supposed to be a luxury, regardless of how everypony else used them. That was a plumb foolish idea.
...So why did she want to feel foolish?
“Applejack?” Applebloom called out from the kitchen. “Breakfast is ready!”
“Sorry, Sugarcube. Ah’m coming.”
By 1:16 PM, Applejack was standing in front of Carousel Boutique with a saddlebag full of ledgers and bits.
The long bath was a dumb idea. Oh, sure, it felt great, but sitting around in a bunch of water while there was work to be done was a waste of time. Switching the bait traps, weeding all the vegetable gardens, finding product sales and distribution records and burning out the wasp infestations was necessary work that needed to be done to make things work, while…
...
...She would have been asked to bathe anyway. Then again, it probably wouldn’t be enough. And normally, knowing Rarity, there was no point in trying because nothing would ever be good enough. So, if this was just for Rarity’s sake, she wouldn’t have tried at all.
Sighing, Applejack pushed the door open.
“Why, hello Applejack!” Rarity beamed at Applejack from across the Carousel Boutique’s sales counter. “How nice of you to arrive!”
“Ah’m late. Ah get it.” Applejack strolled over to Rarity and opened her saddlebag with her mouth.
“Well, it would be late if you had decided to take the full spa course instead of just the body scrub, dear. And I suppose it is your choice to select one of the three options instead of making sure that all of your bases are covered. Even if—”
Rarity’s speech was cut off by the sudden, loud thump of dozens upon dozens of pages of legal documentation hitting the counter.
“Speakin’ of having bases covered,” Applejack replied.
Rarity blinked, peering down at the notes. “Applejack, dear, what are these?”
“Copies of all th’ tax stuff that I got paid out last year. Complete with exceptions an’ exemptions an’ sales breakdowns an’ all that. Written in general format, mind. I ain’t givin’ away all my private money information to you, no offense.”
Silence hung in the air.
“You’re havin’ trouble with costs. Money, an’ all that.” Applejack spoke slowly, raising her voice the necessary one or two notches louder. “There’s plenty of tricks in here that’ll help you save money. I can talk about it more with you when you want.”
“Applejack, that…” Rarity trailed off as she stared at Applejack, mouth slightly agape. “I don’t know what to say…!”
“If you don’t think it’ll be useful, fine. Maybe you got a better handle on all this than I thought. I ain’t sayin’ i know better than you.” Applejack shrugged. “Just thought that it’d help. Hope it helps.”
“Well, I…” Rarity peered at the documents. “I suppose I could try and find the time to—”
“Like I said, it’s a copy. Take your time. I don’t need it back for a while, an’ you’ve got two businesses to manage, networking, a social life to attend to and mebbe a chance to actually eat food an’ sleep sometime between all that.” Applejack fixed Rarity with a wry smile. “Honestly, I’d rather be out in the fields pullin’ weeds all day than doin’ what you do, but I guess that’s why I’m me an’ you’re you.”
Rarity cracked a smile as she looked back at Applejack. “I suppose that’s one way of looking at things, yes.”
“I think I should be good for th’ chores right now, though. Barring any unexpected surprises, I can—”
A scroll popped out of the sky in a burst of pink flame and smacked Applejack in the face.
“Gah!” Applejack grabbed at the photograph. “What the hay…?”
Her complaint smothered itself in her throat as her jaw dropped open.
Nine days ago, at 8:19 AM, Applejack laid in her bed, tucked against the crush of her life.
“Love of her life” was a plum foolish phrase to apply to somepony—or somedragon, rather—who she’d only just talked to the day before. It was doubly plum foolish to apply the phrase to somedragon whose initial appeal was, truthfully, entirely physical. Triply plum foolish in light of the fact that Applejack would have chastised somepony else for “being led by the tail,” to put it vulgarly, and knew full well that being honest with her emotions didn’t mean she couldn’t be a huge hypocrite at the same time.
But if a crush felt like love, then it was a heck of a crush that Applejack had.
Applejack wanted to tell herself it was for good reasons. She wanted to tell herself that Ember was a good dragon, that she had plenty of admirable traits, that there were far worse folks to crush on with far worse personalities and that it was completely sensible to crush on a dragon like her, out of platonic reasons. But that changed neither Ember’s position nor her body.
Ember’s position, besides that of the lord of all dragons, was nothing more than an artful capitalization on one simple fact: Dragons lactated, and their milk was intoxicating to ponies. It was a biological fact older than recorded history, but the history of dragons and ponies interacting positively with each other was only a few years long, if that. The bearers of the Elements of Harmony were instrumental towards ensuring peaceful relations and making it clear that dragons could seek ponies out if there were problems that ponies may be able to help with.
Cue the emergence of a dragon in her fertility cycle, looking to discreetly manage her painful overabundance of milk. Cue the discovery of said alcoholic properties by the pony helping with the dragon’s issue. Cue the rapid, simultaneous realization that there was a large and entirely untapped market for this sort of beverage, and the establishment of an enterprise that lead to Equestria growing increasingly inebriated and the pony-dragon team growing increasingly rich.
That pony was Rarity, an astute businessmare with a knack for brokering favorable deals, mingling with the right crowds and finding the right markets to advertise to. The dragon was Ember, the dragonlord who seemed outwardly accepting of having her body kept in a perpetually productive state if it meant wealth and the sensation of control over her customers.
A dragon with breasts that were quite generous even by dragon standards. Compared to the little mosquito-bite bumps that most mares in ponyville had, they were massive. And every time Applejack saw them, her knees went a little weaker and the area under her tail grew a little warmer.
At 1:18 PM, Applejack’s face went beet red.
Scrolls were supposed to contain important messages, or at least meaningful ones. You used regular letters and regular paper if you were just planning on sending something frivolous to somepony else, not scrolls. Especially not scrolls delivered by magic.
Especially especially if, instead of a message, the scroll just had a taped-on photograph wedged inside. A photo of Ember, winking and smirking as she crossed her arms behind her head, with the camera focused directly on her enormous jugs.
“Applejack?” Rarity said. “What does it say?”
“Bwuh! I, ah, I mean—ain’t nothin’ important. Jes’ a letter.” Hooves trembling slightly, Applejack began to roll the scroll back up again. “Nothin’ worth worryin’ about.”
“Oh? That’s a bit of a shame.” A faint smile played around Rarity’s lips. “It’s not every day that somepony gets a scroll. One can’t help but be mildly curious about the contents.”
“Like I said, it ain’t nothin’ worth worryin’ about.” Applejack finished rolling up the scroll and jammed it roughly into her saddlebags. “Trust me.”
“Of course, dear. I wouldn’t want to make any sort of disingenuous assumptions about what sort of mail you happen to recieve. Not in the least.”
“Good.”
Applejack stared at Rarity, blush finally starting to recede. Rarity stared back, a strange expression playing about her lips.
Rarity cleared her throat. “You know, I don’t normally see scrolls appear out of thin air. And the only sort of flame I’m aware of that accompanies a delivered scroll comes from Spike, and his flames are green.”
Applejack frowned. “And? What’s your point?”
“Well, I suppose that if there was a dragon who learned how to send scrolls by breathing fire, their flames might have to be that color, wouldn’t they?”
“Just happenstance.” Applejack’s brow furrowed further. “I’m tellin’ ya, it ain’t anythin’ worth knowin’ about.”
Rarity paused. Then, with a gentle sigh, she leaned against the counter. “I suppose it isn’t, no.”
“Good.”
Silence settled once more. Applejack’s frown slowly slipped back into neutrality, while Rarity’s smile took on a hint of sadness in equal measure.
Rarity took a breath. “Well, I should—”
“Why’s it matter, anyway?” Applejack interrupted. Under most circumstances the phrase might have been considered an angry one, but Applejack’s tone bore less frustration and far more fatigue than normal.
“Why does what matter, dear? The contents of the letter?”
“Jes’...you wantin’ to get involved in stuff. I don’t see…” Applejack shook her head. “...I don’t see how that helps you at all.”
“Helps me with what? My businesses? Of course it doesn’t.” Rarity shook her head. “If business was the only thing I cared about, I wouldn’t bring up anything at all. But if business was the only thing I cared about, do you really think I would bear an Element of Harmony at all?”
Applejack’s body sagged. “I...I reckon you wouldn’t, no. No offense.”
“None taken. Though I suppose if you don’t want me to pry, then I shouldn’t pry.”
“...What if I had a...a friend with a problem. Would you be willin’ to help them with it?” Apppejack blinked. “Like, that wouldn’t be Element of Harmony business. That’d be you jes’ talkin’ to somepony, despite your schedule an’ all that, that maybe you ain’t got no idea where they’re comin’ from or what their problem is. That ain’t...that ain’t your obligation to deal with, is it?”
It was an obvious lie. Rarity could really stare at a pony if she wanted to: the sort of discerning, appraising stare that came with years upon years of socializing. Under her stare, the surface level of a pony shone through as easily as if Rarity had opened a set of window curtains; under that stare, secrets pulled themselves up to the surface with the slightest pushes in conversation. Even if Applejack was a good liar, her little bit of misdirection would —
“Of course I’d help them, dear.” Rarity smiled. “If she’s the friend of a good friend of mine, well, what are friends for?”
Applejack blinked. “Huh?”
“Assuming your friend wants somepony like me to talk it over with them, of course.” Rarity’s eyes sparkled, and Applejack couldn’t get a read on exactly what was going through Rarity’s head. “Perhaps you could tell me a little about what might be troubling them?”
“Well…” Applejack scratched at the side of the neck. Her gaze flicked towards the door, then back at Rarity again. “It’s…”
Rarity said nothing. Instead, she leaned forward ever so slightly, crossing one hoof over the other. Her interest, or the appearance of it, spoke volumes.
Applejack sighed. “It’s relationship stuff.”
Silence.
“Thing is, they got...they got somepony they love, y’know? Head over hooves about ‘em. An’ they’re sort of...with them. Close to ‘em. But only sort of, ‘cause they never got around to asking that pony if they want to be somethin’. Y’know, like the in-love sort of thing. So it just seems like they’re, y’know…”
Rarity cocked her head. “Friends?”
“Yeah!” Applejack took a step towards Rarity. “An’ it just seems like to everypony else that they’re just friends. An’...an’ my friend thinks that the — the pony they’re in love with prolly just thinks they’re friends, too. An’ maybe that’s the way it should be. But my friend just ain’t sure, y’know?”
“And your friend thinks they really could…?”
“Oh, my friend would do anythin’ for it. An’ it aint, y’know, my friend doesn’t think it’s impossible that the two of them could be a thing. But she wouldn’t know for sure, an’ if my friend...if my friend asked an’ she was wrong, if there really wasn’t anythin’ to it…” Applejack trailed off.
The corners of Rarity’s mouth twitched, and her smile slid from patient to sad as smoothly and quickly as drawing breath. “Being in love is hard, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. It really is.” Applejack froze, eyes bulging. “W-wait, I didn’t — ”
“For your friend, dear. I know what you meant. But...yes, there isn’t a safe answer here.” Rarity straighened up slightly. “Let’s not mince words. Your friend knows that asking the question and getting a negative response is tantamount to social suicide, yes?”
The bottom fell out of Applejack’s stomach. “It, uh...it is?”
“They might not be the subject of laughter, but they’d likely alienate their friends and the friends of their romantic interest, and certainly alienate the interest itself. The whole thing would come crumbling down like a poorly-made house of cards, and even the relationships that pulled through would never feel quite the same in light of everything else.” Rarity’s hoof drifted towards Applejack’s stack of business documents. “Of course, that’s the worst-case scenario. Things might not be quite so bad, but I’m not going to talk down to them and say dismissive phrases like ‘it won’t be so bad,’ ‘what’s the worst that could happen,’ ‘you’ll never know until you try’ and so on. I might not know precisely what your friend’s going through, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t care.”
“Well, I...it’s good you’re takin’ things seriously, Rarity.” Applejack gulped and scratched the back of her neck. “I reckon my friend would appreciate that.”
“If I didn’t take interpony interactions as seriously as I do, would I really be fit to call myself a socialite?” Rarity chuckled. “So, yes, there’s a significant risk for your friend if they choose to reach outward. How that compares to the potential reward and the losses in other options is up to them to calculate, ultimately.”
“An’ I reckon that bein’...y’know, a thing would be pretty…” Applejack trailed off. “Wait, what was that about ‘losses in other options?’ ”
Rarity blinked. “Why, Applejack, I’m surprised. Do you seriously think that things will remain the same if your friend never talks to her crush?”
“They won’t?”
“All creatures change over time, Applejack. They get bored doing one thing all the time, discover new passions and interests and move on. I’m not saying your friend will fall out of love, but the one they love might find somepony else to fall in love with, or they might move away, or any number of things.”
“Oh.”
“It can’t be helped, really.” Rarity shrugged. “It just means that your friend needs to ask themselves what they’d prefer: Should they risk their social and love lives on a gamble, or should they try to stay content with what they have until it eventually goes away?”
“Well, uh…” Applejack pointed a hoof at Rarity. “What would you do?”
Rarity cracked a wry smile. “Dear, just because I’m a romantic doesn’t mean I’m interested in actually having a relationship. I’d much prefer a torrid two-week fling in the tropics than any sort of domestic life, thank you very much. But this isn’t about me, it’s about your friend. Is that the sort of commitment she wants? Is that what she’s looking for?”
“I guess…” Applejack took a deep breath. “I think she—”
“Whoever it is, I think she’s missing out. You two are lucky that you’ve got somedragon as good to look at as I am.”
Applejack and Rarity looked up. Ember strolled casually forward from the staircase, tail swishing playfully as her massive bust jiggled with each step. At that moment, the heat beneath Applejack’s tail could have melted an entire tray of ice cubes.
Rarity rolled her eyes. “Ember, dear, I don’t suppose there’s a reason why you’re not wearing any clothing?”
“Didn’t feel like it. Besides, I figured it’d be appreciated if I didn’t wear anything. Right, Applejack?” Ember added with a wry grin.
“Bhhhhhhggg” Applejack mumbled.
“See? She agrees with me.” Ember sauntered over to Applejack with an almost casual sway in her step, but the way she walked was undeniably calculated, from the way she stared at Applejack to the way her perks bounced just so on her mammoth bust. By the time she drew even with Applejack—her massive, teal breasts hanging right in front of Applejack’s face—Applejack was barely able to stand up straight, let alone offer a rebuttal.
“I doubt she has the capacity to disagree with much at the moment,” Rarity replied sourly. “Anyways, isn’t it about time for you to milk yourself? Preparing another batch of product aside, you need to get ready for—”
“Sure, but I’m not the only creature that needs draining right now. Right, AJ?” Ember rested a claw on Applejack’s withers. “You need to get ready for something later on, too, right?”
Applejack whimpered, nodding as a small dribble of saliva trickled out of the corner of her mouth.
Rarity groaned. “Oh, for goodness’ sake. Take it to the guest bedroom, please? I’d prefer not to have you distracting any potential customers in some fashion or another.”
With a hungry grin, Ember turned and headed for the stairs. With a faint whine, Applejack followed Ember by the tail, completely oblivious to the exasperated look on Rarity’s face.
By 3:30 PM, Applejack was hatless and standing in the waiting room of the Ponyville Spa, shivering and quietly waiting for her name to be called.
It wasn’t the first time she’d been in the spa. Far from it; this sort of thing was all but expected of the Elements of Harmony, since her friends were all fairly keen on this sort of thing. It wasn’t just a frivolous waste of money, it was a frivolous waste of time, and time and money were two things that Applejack couldn’t normally afford to spare. But “normally” was the key word here; normally, there wasn’t anycreature that she was trying to impress. Normally, there wasn’t anycreature she was willing to make herself a fool for. Normally, she wouldn’t be grabbing at advice like it was the rope on a ball trap, trying to get her badness out of the way and put on a healthier front. Normally —
“Miss Applejack?”
Applejack’s ponytail swung wildly as she whipped her head to the side. Aloe...or was it Lotus? Whichever one had the blue mane and pink coat, anyway...looked at her, holding a clipboard, the corner of her mouth twitching in mild amusement.
“Eeeyeah?” Applejack replied.
“You are scheduled for zee...ah, deluxe body treatment?”
“Yeah! I, ah, I sure am.” Applejack forced a pained smile. “Totally ready to get my body treated all...deluxe-like, yeah.”
Nonplussed, the spa pony nodded and turned around. Applejack followed her down one hallway, then another, letting the increasingly awkward silence between them linger unchallenged. Finally, the Spa pony turned left and pushed open a door, gesturing for Applejack to enter; with a nod of her head, Applejack ducked inside.
“Hello, Professor Applejack!”
For the second time in five minutes, Applejack’s head snapped up fast enough to give a lesser pony whiplash. “Yona?”
The yak grinned. A broad, sunny grin told Applejack that Yona was more than happy to help out; the white gown that hung around her like bedsheets and hair cap that could have passed for a sofa cushion belied any sense of suitability for the task. With a soft click, the door swung shut behind Applejack, hiding the expression on the spa pony’s face from view.
“Yona take Principal Starlight Glimmer’s advice on helping out at different places in Ponyville! Yaks not place importance on big work record, but Yona not mind trying new things.” Yona slapped a massage table next to her, which buckled slightly from the weight, and the more memorable parts of Applejack’s life began to flash before her eyes.
A dim little voice in the back of AJ’s head chided her for thinking about Ember’s breasts.
“That’s, ah...that’s a mighty fine attitude to have, Yona!” Applejack chuckled weakly. “I, ah, I sure am lookin’ forward to, ah…”
“Vigorous sea salt scrub and deep pressure massage with apple and orange oil extracts! Followed by full-body drenching and mud-and-seaweed full body wrap. Snug as changeling in coccoon!” Yona puffed out her chest with pride. “Yona practiced saying those lines. Ponies are too fond of using too many big words in a row, but Yona indulge.”
“Great.” Applejack gulped, gingerly laying down on the slightly buckled bed and hoping that she’d be able to walk out of the spa without a wheelchair. “Welp, here goes nothing.”
“Professor Applejack sounds happy.”
Applejack sighed blissfully. “Mmmmmmh. Can’t say I’m eager to leave anytime soon.”
“Yona practiced a lot for this! Getting right amount of pressure was difficult.” Yona’s hooves worked down Applejack’s spine firmly and evenly. “Not first time Yona has tried being more delicate. Yona had to practice lots, though. Yaks better than ponies at not getting hurt.” Yona paused briefly as she worked over Applejack’s back. “Yaks better than ponies at plenty of things, but especially not getting hurt.”
“That’d explain why you’re so fearless in class.” Applejack chuckled. “Or are yaks better than ponies at being brave, too?”
Yona pulled her hooves away. “Nope!”
Applejack turned to face Yona. “Nope?”
“Nope.” Yona’s smile didn’t falter as she trundled over to a sink and began washing her hooves. “Most yaks not scared of anything. Yaks can’t overcome fear if yaks have no fear in first place.” Yona paused. “Wait. Professor Applejack taught this in class.”
Applejack chuckled. “Guilty as charged.”
Yona began filling a rather large bucket with water. "Yona not expecting pop quiz. Honesty professor is surprisingly sneaky.”
“There ain’t never a bad time to learn, sugarcube. Ain’t never a bad time to get a lil’ refresher on what you know, either.”
Yona rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Professor Applejack is starting to sound like Headmare Twilight.”
“Trust me, if I wanted to sound like Headmare Twilight, I’d go on and on about books an’ studyin’ an’ all sorts of other impractical know-how. You’re lucky that I’d rather be sensible than be some kind of high-flyin’ egghead.”
Snorting, Yona set one full bucket on the ground and began filling up another. “Yona is thankful.”
In the absence of an ambiant soundtrack, the sound of Yona filling water buckets was the only thing that broke the silence. After a couple of moments, Applejack’s unspoken thoughts added themselves to the mix, polluting the serenity with a sloppy pile of cacophanic apprehension.
The whole thing would come crumbling down like a poorly-made house of cards, and even the relationships that pulled through would never feel quite the same.
All creatures change over time, Applejack. They get bored doing one thing all the time, discover new passions and interests and move on.
It can’t be helped, really.
Then Yona upended a water bucket over Applejack’s head.
“Yona! What in the-”
Yona upended a second water bucket over Applejack’s withers. “Does Professor Applejack have problem?”
“Of course I— ”
Applejack blinked.
“Ohh, right. Full body drenching. Sorry.”
Yona chuckled as she continued to upend buckets over Applejack’s body. “Professor Applejack is silly. Why else would somecreature pour water on her?”
Applejack snorted. “You’d be surprised what Rainbow Dash gets up to when she’s in one of her foolish moods. Replace ‘water bucket’ with ‘entire dang raincloud’ an’ you get a lil’ lesson in why it’s a bad idea to let Dash be bored for more’n an hour in the summertime.”
Yona laughed. Not a conversational titter, but a full-bodied bout of mirth; the sort of laugh that made others smile by reflex and brightened days by proximity. Only the young, or at least young at heart, could really have that kind of laugh. It was the sort of laugh that reminded Applejack of summer days before she really knew Rainbow Dash, or any of her other friends. Before she started feeling like she was all grown up, with grownup-sized responsibilities to match.
Before her body made her feel weird.
“Yona keep forgetting how silly Professor Egghead can be!” Snorting in amusement, Yona upended one last bucket over Applejack’s hind legs. “Yona not think loyalty professor would act like laughter professor.”
“Yeah, they were a real couple barrels of fun.” Applejack turned to stare at Yona and rolled her eyes. “Trust me, a joy buzzer’s just as funny the tenth time as it is the first time: it ain’t. At all.”
“Yona fear the day when Silverstream discover them” Yona replied, briefly holding one hoof over her heart and dipping her head in mock solemnity. “Can Professor Applejack turn over?”
“Oh! Right, sure, the seaweed thing.” Applejack readjusted herself until she was back down, belly up, staring at Yona with a mild smile on her face. “I figure Rarity knows better when to do this whole spa thing than I do.”
“Yona not know! Yona not work with Professor Rarity yet.” Yona shook her head, then turned back towards an unappetizing pile of kelp. “Yona not have time for everypony.”
“I suppose you wouldn’t, no. ‘Sides, I imagine that you’d want to hang out with your friends, too.”
Yona nodded. “Yona want to make the most of time in Ponyville while Yona has it.”
“Makes sense.” Applejack watched Yona prepare in silence. Then a question sprang to Applejack’s lips, spilling out before she had a chance to contain herself.
“Have you ever had a friend you’ve been worried about spending too much time with?”
Yona shook her head. “That sound like silly question to me. Why worry?”
“In case, well...in case you worried that if you tried to be too close a friend with somepony that they wouldn’t want to be your friend anymore, or somethin’. Y’know, worryin’ that tryin’ to be a better friend with somepony might not be the best thing to be?”
Yona paused. “Why would Yona want friend who did not want to be friend?”
“It ain’t like that! I mean, I...don’t figure it’s like that. I dunno, that prolly sounds like a whole lotta hogwash to you.”
Yona shrugged. “If friend does not want to be friend, Yona not make make them be friend. If friend want to be friend, Yona happy to be friend.”
“But what if you didn’t know whether or not they’d want to be your friend?”
“Yona ask.” Yona turned around, and Applejack tried not to look her in the eyes.
“An’ what if asking ‘em might make things...not right as rain?”
“Then being friend with not-friend is dumb. Yona find better friend elsewhere. Why spend time with not-friend while wanting them to be friend?”
Applejack’s only reply was the sort of silence that filled itself with unspoken worries and barely-concealed implications. Unfortunately, both children and yaks tended to not be fluent in the language of silence, and Applejack’s effort was doomed from the start.
“There. Friendship questions answered!” Yona responded cheerfully. “Time for Professor Applejack to get all wrapped up.”
By 5:00 PM, Applejack’s muscles felt wonderfully loose. Her brain, on the other hoof, felt uncomfortably untethered to anything whatsoever.
Once again, she was in the waiting room of the Ponyville Spa. This time, however, she was anything but unclothed. A certain somepony was supposed to leave Applejack’s stetson at the front desk so that she’d be able to pick it up before she left.
Theoretically, it was supposed to be just the hat. Nothing else. In theory, she wasn’t supposed to have received a hat, the fashionable ensemble that she had worn at Rarity’s fashion show—complete with boots and saddle-like coat—and a little note with “Best wishes, darling!” written on it in elegant cursive hoofwriting. She probably looked only slightly underdressed by Canterlot standards, which was enough to make her feel simultaneously irritable at the silly, unnecessary modest getup she’d practically been shoehorned into wearing and uncomfortably self-aware that she was trying to make a good impression in the first place.
Which was silly. Trying to make good impressions was silly and dishonest. It was better to not worry about dressing up at all unless you were doing it for somepony else’s sake, and that all things considered it would be —
“Hey, Applejack!”
Applejack turned her head and immediately wished Rarity had sent over some clothing even more silly and unnecessary modest.
Ember strolled through the waiting room with a wry, incautious smile, and Applejack was abruptly reminded of the difference between “not wearing clothes” and “nude.” Ponies didn’t wear clothes most of the time, and that was perfectly normal. Dragons didn’t wear clothes most of the time, either, and that was also perfectly normal. But most dragons didn’t have, for lack of a better phrase, massive tits.
Ember did. Her bust grew increasingly hard to pretend to ignore as she drew closer to Applejack, though not through any particular effort on Ember’s part. That was simply how things were with Ember these days: there wasn’t any way to look at her without mentally registering the size of her breasts.
And sizeable they were. They jiggled with every step Ember took. They wobbled when Ember raised a claw in greeting. They jutted out of her chest, free and bared to the world, big enough that a pony could bury her head between them. Or fondle them while they kissed. Or bent her head down to one of Ember’s perfect nipples and—
“You okay?” Ember peered at Applejack, idly toying with one of her perks, and it took all of Applejack’s effort to stare at Ember’s face. Not other parts of her anatomy, even if Applejack really wanted to look at them, but Ember’s face. Just the face. Just—
“Hey.” Ember snapped her fingers in front of Applejack’s face. “Hellooo, Applejack. You awake?”
“Bwuh!” Applejack started. “I, ah, I’m awake. Yeah. Real...real awake.”
Ember grinned, sliding her claw beneath one of her breasts and hefting it up into the air. Applejack’s face flushed as she barely managed to suppress an eager moan. “Of course you are. Hey, want to just skip dinner, head back to Rarity’s and f—”
“Nah I reckon dinner’s just fine let’s go”
Doing her best to ignore the stares of other ponies, Applejack grabbed Ember’s free-hanging claw and tugged her out of the spa.
By 5:30 PM, Applejack and Ember were sitting at a table, scanning identical menus with different levels of enthusiasm.
Normally, the idea of a “gourmet dinner” would have bored Applejack to tears. The novelty of the new restaurant just outside of city limits — a fancy-looking place called L'épicurien Énigmatique — and its promise of a “multicreatural dining experience” was the sort of frou-frou affair that would normally have been more to Rarity’s tastes. The fact that it catered to non-pony diets was largely lost on Applejack, who’d survived for at least two years of her life solely on apples and apple-based products. But, sadly enough, it was the only restaurant that specifically catered to dragons, which left Applejack up the proverbial strawberry creek without an applewood paddle.
Applejack scanned the menu, desperately trying to find some kind of food that was in a language that somepony outside of the Canterlot upper class could actually understand. Most ponies didn’t need to know the difference between an apéritif and an entrée or which one served more than two mouthfuls of food, and the fact that everything written under those categories was full of gibberish words like “balsamic” and “ricotta” didn’t help.
Ember looked at her menu for two seconds, shrugged and set her menu down. “Done.”
Applejack looked up. “What d’you mean ‘done?’ You actually understand any of these words?”
“Nah.” Ember leaned over the table, grinning impishly at Applejack as her breasts squished against the elegant tablecloth. “What about you? Did you figure out what ‘any of these words’ mean?”
“Well, uh…”
“Good evening.”
Applejack almost bolted out of her chair. To her left was a batpony in an impeccable tuxedo, smiling warmly at both of them and looking completely unfazed by Ember’s sizable assets.
“My name is Mangue Parfaite, and I’ll be your waiter for the evening. Would you care for anything to drink?”
The batpony’s smooth, if pointy-fanged, smile didn’t waver even slightly as Applejack struggled to remember the name of any drink that ever existed. “Guh. Well, ah.”
“Water.” Ember sat up a little, and the waiter nodded.
“Yeah. Uh, Water” Applejack mumbled. The waiter nodded, informed them that he would be back shortly and strode off. It took a couple of seconds for Applejack to remember to look back at Ember; by the time she did, Ember was leaning forward again, licking her lips and staring at Applejack the way a predator stared at prey.
“You know that I’d be annoyed by any other pony acting awkward, right? I’d think it was dumb. But with you, I know where the awkwardness is coming from.” Ember’s grin widened. “And it’s positively adorable.”
Applejack felt herself twitch. “I, uh, I. Yeah. W-well, ah, you’re pretty, ah...y’know…”
“ ‘Adorable,’ I’m guessing.” Ember pulled herself off of the table and leaned back against the chair, quite intentionally giving Applejack a perfect view of her bust, and Applejack fought back the urge to shove the table aside, walk over to Ember and introduce Ember’s tits to every part of her body. “I know what you’re really thinking about, don’t worry.”
“I—I mean,” Applejack sputtered, “I reckon I should probably focus on gettin’, y’know, food first. Not that I ain’t—”
“Oh, hey, food guy.”
The waiter had returned, smiling smoothly and continuing to show no signs of registering any sexual tension at the table whatsoever. “Good evening, Madame. Would you care to hear about tonight’s special?”
Ember looked over at Applejack. Dimly, Applejack nodded, and the waiter launched into a long-winded explanation full of phrases that Applejack was pretty sure didn’t actually mean anything. After thirty seconds of pointless pontification, Applejack remembered that the honest thing to do in this situation would be to stop the waiter and ask him to repeat what he was saying in actual words that made sense. Then Applejack remembered that acting even more honestly on her emotions would involve doing things with Ember that Applejack didn’t really feel comfortable doing in public, and subsequently decided that living a lie and listening to the waiter until her eyes glazed over was the better decision.
The next thirty seconds were torturously dull, and only slightly better than the honest alternative.
“...So what would madame care to try?” The waiter finally concluded, looking expectantly at Applejack.
“Oh! Uh...this.” Applejack jabbed at a random spot on her menu. “I’ll have that.”
“The Salade de Pamplemousse aux Fraises? Of course.” The waiter nodded, then turned towards Ember. “And for you, madame?”
“Basket of sapphires.” Ember made a vaguely offhanded gesture with her claw. “And a basket of citrines. I had a big day.”
“An excellent choice, madame.” With a polite nod, The waiter collected the menus and bustled off towards the kitchens. Applejack watched him disappearred toward the back before turning back to Ember, who met her gaze with an arched eyebrow and a smirk.
“Look at you,” Ember purred. “That guy goes on and on about some mango dish like he’s got an addiction that needs feeding, and you go and pick something else entirely.”
“That, uh...that ain’t all that strange, is it?”
“I just figured that disagreements weren’t something that most ponies generally did. Casually, I mean. Most of you seem like the type to blindly accept suggestions and advice.” Ember shrugged. “No offense.”
Applejack shook her head. “None taken. Trust me, if he’d said somethin’ about apples, I might have been interested. But most of all this is jes’...fancy.”
“I know, right? As if they expect me to learn a whole new language just to get something to eat. Screw that.” Ember rolled her eyes. “Still. You really like apples, huh?”
“Wouldn’t work in the family orchard if I didn’t.”
“So what is it you do all day? Just, like, eating apples, polishing apples, selling apples…?”
Applejack shook her head. “Ain’t nothin’ like that. I got plenty of practical stuff that needs doin’ every day.”
“Like what?”
“Uh…”
Ember was staring at Applejack a little too intensely for Applejack’s comfort. Or maybe it wasn’t that—maybe it was just that Applejack’s job duties seemed, abruptly, inadequate for somecreature whose job was…
Was…
Ember sighed. “Hey. Are you just gonna zone out, or…?”
“Nothin’ fancy.” Applejack sighed. “Jes’...switchin’ the bait traps, weedin’ the vegetable gardens, findin’ some stuff for Rarity an’ distribution records and torchin’ the wasps. Nothin’ fancy, jes’…”
If she was talking to anycreature else, the plain facts would have suited Applejack just fine. As it was, the mundanity of her life abruptly made her want to turn invisible. “Y’know, jes’...”
“Wait. Back up.” Ember sat up a little. “What do you mean by ‘torching the wasps?’ Do you mean actually setting them on fire?”
“Uh?” Applejack sat up a little. “Well, how else are you gonna get rid of ‘em?”
“I dunno, trap them in comfortable cages and let them free somewhere else one by one? That seems like a more pony-ish thing to do.”
Applejack snorted. “Nah. Mebbe Fluttershy would do somethin’ like that, but a dangerous pest is a dangerous pest. You wanna deal with stings an’ dead bees, then go ahead an’ coddle them. You wanna be sensible, then you burn ‘em all out.”
Ember leaned forward ever so slightly. “So how do you do that?”
“Bait. A big pile of bait - sweets, protien, vinegar to keep the bees away an’ whatever else you need. Mebbe lace it with some kind of secret ingredient, though I wouldn’t say what it was if I made a promise to keep that secret ingredient a secret, though. Just sayin’.” Grinning faintly, Applejack readjusted the brim of her hat. “Anyways, leave it out in a big patch of bare ground an’ the nasty buggers go absolutely wild. Huge swarm in minutes. Then you break out the chemical thrower.”
“What.”
“Highly pressurized flammable liquid in saddleback tanks, a hose, a fuel tube, a valve and an open flame. Ain’t that complicated. Just need a firm grip and an ounce of grit, an’ when you turn the valve — Fwoosh.” Applejack sat up and made a sweeping gesture with her forehooves. “ ‘Course, you eventually need a water hose to put it out eventually if you don’t wanna burn your orchard down, but you can take out a whole lot more of the buggers than you’d get with dinky lil’ traps if you know what you’re doin’...”
Applejack trailed off. Ember stared at Applejack, mouth slightly open and wings half-splayed.
“...You can use it on the nests sometimes, too, if you’re feelin’ bold an’ you’ve got a partner to work the hose so you don’t burn down your barn an’ whatnot.” Applejack continued, her smirk fading.
Ember remained silent. Applejack stared back and tried to pretend that nocreature else was looking anywhere near their direction.
Finally, Ember blinked and closed her mouth. “I...you’re insane, you know that?”
Applejack’s gaze fell to the tablecloth. “I guess it sounds kinda foolish, yeah.”
“Heck no. It’s awesome.”
Applejack looked up again. Ember was leaning over the table like a foal listening to his uncle’s tall tales, grinning like Hearth’s Warming had come early.
“That’s the least ponylike thing I’ve heard in weeks,” Ember gushed. “It’s...I can’t think of any dragons who do anything remotely like that, much less ponies. It’s easily the most awesomely insane thing I’ve heard a pony doing ever! Are all your chores like that, or…?”
“Uh...”
“What other pests do you have to deal with? Do you use fire? Please tell me you use fire. Or explosions! Or both!” Ember’s eyes sparkled. “No no no no no, I’m getting ahead of myself. You tell me. Pick a pest and tell me how you deal with them.”
“Well…” Abruptly, Applejack grinned. “I s’pose I could tell you how to deal with mice…”
“...Slap a strong enough winch on your modified slingshot an’ boom!” Applejack thrusted her hoof out, almost knocking over her water glass in the process. “Twigs go flyin’ like tenpins an’ that’s one less timberwolf!”
Ember leaned back in her chair, laughing and mimicking the gesture. “Boom!”
“Exactly!” Grinning, Applejack readjusted her hat. “I reckon you might have the makings of bein’ a proper farmer, Ember. Y’know, if bein’ queen of the dragons ever seems too boring.”
Ember snorted, clearly suppressing another bout of giggles. “Well, things are certainly going to be more exciting next time I head back. The whole kingdom’s going to want to be rock farmers after I tell them everything you told me.”
“Shucks, that’s just the glamorous bits. If I told you ‘bout all the non-fancy stuff I do—”
“Here you are, Madame.”
Applejack looked up. Smiling back at her as if she wasn’t causing a ruckus in the middle of the restaurant, the waiter smoothly laid a plate down in front of her, before delicately placing two baskets in front of Ember and striding back towards the kitchens.
Wincing slightly, Applejack picked up a fork and prodded the plate’s contents. “Huh.”
“What’cha got there?” Ember raised an eyebrow. “Fruit?”
“Grapefruit an’ pears.” Applejack sighed. “An’ to think fancy ponies like this sort of stuff.”
“I’ve said it a zillion times and I’ll say it again: Ponies are weird.” Ember grabbed a sapphire out of a basket and popped it in her mouth, crunching it down for roughly two seconds before swallowing. “Ahh. Now this is good food. Want one?”
Applejack arched an eyebrow.
“Oh. Right. My bad.” Ember reached for a citrine. “Anyway. Are you seriously telling me that most ponies keep their work a lot more simple and boring than you do, then insist on trying to eat inedible fancy stuff like what you ordered?”
Applejack prodded the multicolored mess on her plate and scrunched her muzzle. “I guess? Kinda foolish if you ask me, but…”
“There isn’t really a ‘kind of’ about it. If you don’t like what you’re doing, then why do it? Especially if it’s something you don’t have to do. Seems awfully pony-like to get fixated on how things ‘should be done’ because everycreature else is used to it.”
Applejack paused. Then a smile spread over her face. “Yeah. You know—”
“Never change, Applejack.” Ember chomped down on the citrine, swallowed a healthy bite of the gem and grinned. “Seriously.”
The smile stayed on Applejack’s face long enough for her to look back at her food. Hopefully, it was enough to pretend her discontent was caused by what was on her place.
“Ugh. Yeah, let’s get rid of that.” Ember raised her claw to flag down a passing waiter. “And while we’re at it, I’m gonna get us a bottle of something to get hammered on and see if it matches up to what I make for a living.”
“It doesn’t compare.” Ember snorted. “At all.”
“That explains why you drank half the bottle.” Applejack leaned across the table, grabbed the wine bottle planted squarely on the tablecloth and chuckled. “Make that more’n half. Is there anything left in here at all?”
“See? Not nearly enough for it to compare properly.” Ember stretched, jutting out her chest so far that it blocked out the light over her plate. “Now, with a couple of taps like mine, you’d never run dry, and it’d taste better. Which I guess is why everycreature wants some of me, huh?”
“Quantity over quality, y’big ol’ moo cow.” Applejack set the bottle down and jabbed a playfully accusatory hoof at Ember’s breasts. “You could taste like a rock farm an’ I reckon there’d still be a couple lushes that’d find you the grandest.”
“And you think I’m just gonna let a couple random ponies get the privileges you do? Please.” Ember snorted. “They’d have to be as cute and squirmy as you are before I’d even think about it.”
Applejack grinned sheepishly. “Aw, shucks, Ember.”
Ember’s lips parted for a sharp, fanged grin. “And they’d have to make those cute little squeaking sounds you do whenever I get you to orgasm without even touching you.”
“Aw, shucks, Ember.” Applejack’s blush darkened as she covered her face with her hoof. “I figured you weren’t gonna bring that up in public.”
“Why? You figure this frou-frou bunch cares?”
“Would madame and madame care for anything else?”
Applejack’s head jerked up. Once again, their waiter had slid silently over to their table, still wearing an inscrutable grin and the pretense of being entirely fixated on their satisfaction.
“Yeah. I’ll take a small thing of sapphires for the road, and Mrs. Blushyface wants something else for dinner. Something apple-related. A pie, or something, whatever you’ve got.” Ember gestured idly at Applejack as she looked over at the waiter. “Rarity’s covering for it, right?”
“The mare who scheduled your reservation did state that she would pay for your meal, yes.”
“Sweet. Think we’re all good, then. Right, Blushyface?” Ember nodded in Applejack’s direction. “Did you want anything else?”
“Nnnnnh.” Applejack replied.
“Very good, madame.” With a slight nod, the waiter bustled off again. Applejack pulled her hoof away from her face, still grinning sheepishly and looked at Ember. And if there was one thing about Ember that looked better than her enormous breasts, it was her warm and utterly unironic smile.
It was a good smile. It was the sort of smile that made Applejack think that she couldn’t possibly ask for more.
All creatures change over time, Applejack.
Applejack did her best to keep forcing her smile and push Rarity’s voice out of her head.
Ember crossed her arms behind her head, arched out her back and stretched, unintentionally thrusting her chest out into the night air. “That was a good idea.”
“You mean dinner?” Applejack turned towards Ember as the two of them walked back towards Ponyville. The sun still hung in the sky, minutes from sunset, and it cast Ember’s features in the sort of demi-shadows that highlighted the curves of her body even more.
“Yeah. Dinner, the spa, everything.” Ember sighed. “You know, I legitimately sort of figured this wasn’t gonna work out.”
Applejack blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, this sort of planning things out ahead of time and doing multiple big things in a row? I’d say that’s totally Rarity, but I think it’s mostly just ‘totally pony’ in general. You guys have to make a big deal out of everything, but not in a bad way.” Ember turned towards Applejack and grinned. “I had a lot of fun today.”
“Same.” Applejack tried to keep her smile up, but she could feel it start to falter.
Why spend time with not-friend while wanting them to be friend?
It can’t be helped, really.
“Y’know, I don’t think Rarity had anything else planned. Rest of the night’s free, and I can probably put off getting milked until tomorrow.” Ember’s grin turned impish. “Whaddya say we head back and screw each other blind for a few hours?”
“That’s it?”
Ember blinked and lowered her arms. “Huh?”
“You didn’t want to do anythin’ else special today?” Applejack readjusted her hat. “Jes’ make love an’ put everythin’ else behind us?”
Ember arched an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah? Did you have something else planned? Were you planning on making an even bigger deal out of the whole thing?”
“Would it matter if I was?”
Ember stopped walking. “...Are you okay?”
“I think so. Unless I ain’t. I dunno. Maybe everythin’ ain’t okay. Maybe...consarn it.” Applejack stopped walking and readjusted her hat again, feeling uncomfortably and unpleasantly warm.
“What’s gotten into you? Is it your time of the month?” Ember scratched just above one of her perks. “Do ponies even get those?”
“Ain’t that. Bigger deal.” Applejack took a deep breath. “I had a real good time today, Ember.”
“Yeah? And so did I.” Ember sighed. “Why, is that a bad thing?”
“Only if it never happens again. An’ I reckon I don’t want that to happen. Not if there’s an alternative. I…”
Applejack looked Ember dead in the eyes and forced herself not to blink.
“I wanna make this an official thing, Ember.”
Ember blinked. “...Okay? You mean, like, recognize today happened?”
“Not today. Us. I want us to be a thing.”
Ember stared at Applejack silently, not moving.
“Like, jes’ you and me, an’ nopony else. Having these...moments. Bein’ there for each other. Bein’ together, and...close. Close as close gets.” A genuine smile began to spread back over Applejack’s face. “I know this won’t have t’be the only day we have like this. We can do many more together, jes’ the two of us bein’ the greatest couple of...greatest couple there ever was. We’d get each other like nopony else, ‘cause we do get each other, but the two of us could be like that all the time—”
“No.”
Applejack froze. Ember crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“...Come again?” Applejack said.
“Nope.” Ember sighed. “Damn it, Applejack, I thought I told you to never change.”
“I don’t…” Applejack’s voice cracked. “Didn’t you…?”
“Think tonight was great? I do, yeah. Think you’re great? I do, yeah.” Ember jabbed a finger at Applejack. “Think that I want this to be a routine for the rest of my life? No. Never.”
Something ugly twisted in the pit of Applejack’s stomach. “So you didn’t like today, then. Thanks for lyin’ to my face about it.”
“Are you even listening to me?” Ember snapped. “Do you remember why I started doing this? Why I let Rarity drain me and do this dumb business thing with her and let my tits swell up like I’ve been holding in my milk for a decade?”
The answer bubbled up in Applejack’s mind, and she pushed it out of her head. “ ‘Cause it was fun. ‘Cause it felt good. ‘Cause that’s all you care about, isn’t it?”
“Because it made me feel less freakish, asshole.” Ashen trickles of smoke began to waft up from Ember’s nostrils. “Because now I own what my body’s like. I’ve turned something that would have been embarrassing back in my kingdom into something that empowers me. You guys crave what’s in my body. Heck, you crave my body, and if you seriously think you’re the only one then you need to get your head examined.”
“Horse apples,” Applejack spat. “You ain’t got nopony else that feels like I do.”
“Do you think Rarity would have agreed to do this if she hadn’t liked what was going on here?” Ember jabbed her breast with an accusatory talon. “So there’s her, for starters. Then there was a fling I had earlier this summer, which is none of your damned business. And Rarity wouldn’t be so concerned about taxes and growing the business if she didn’t think that I could sell more than I’m doing now. But she figures that I’ve got enough appeal to draw in a lot of ponies, and I mean a lot of ponies. I’m kind of a hot commodity, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Is that all you fancy yerself to be?” Applejack’s tail flicked. “A bottle of booze an’ a couple of tits to be sold out willy-nilly?”
“If I’m selling it on my terms? Yes. And fuck you.”
The ugly thing in Applejack’s gut twisted, hard. Pain spiked through Applejack’s body, hard enough to make her wince.
Ember bared her sharp, fanged teeth. “Isn’t that what you want, anyway? To own me?”
“It ain’t that.” Applejack’s vision started to blur, ever so slightly. “It ain’t like that at all.”
“Of course it is. It’s a pony ritual. You’ve got to dress everything up in formal trappings and do things in one particular way until everything’s suffocating. And if I wanted to feel bound to all that, I’d still be home. But I don’t. Which is why I’m here.” Ember flared her wings. “Actually, it’d probably be better if Ieft. Don’t let your barn door blindside you once you’re back home.”
Applejack fell silent. The blurriness got worse.
Wings spread, Ember stood there, waiting. Seconds passed as the sun continued its inexorable descent, and neither spoke a word.
“Well?” Ember snapped, breaking the silence. “You’re not going to even try to get a last word in? Not even going to put any weight behind your demand to cage my social life like I'm some kind of farm animal?”
“Do you remember why I got interested in you?” Applejack mumbled.
“For my body.” Ember crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“ ‘Cause you made me feel less freakish. ‘Cause I didn’t know what to do with how I felt, an’ you made me feel okay with it. ‘Cause now I can be...I can be open with how I feel, like I don’t have to be ashamed of likin’...something that ain’t traditional. I don’t have to feel like that at all.”
Ember didn’t stop glaring, but her shoulders sagged ever so slightly. “And you need me to be locked into a verbal contract why, exactly? Why does that have to be a thing?”
“It doesn’t.”
Ember rolled her eyes. “If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t have brought it up.”
“The point ain’t that I don’t want you to be bound to me an’ only me.” Applejack closed her eyes for a bit longer than a standard blink.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“I’m serious.” Applejack sniffed. “If other folks make you happy—”
“They do. They do for the same reasons you do. It’s not all about you.”
The ugly thing in Applejack’s stomach lurched, sending another spasm of pain up her spine.
Ember sighed, expression softening. “Look, this ugliness aside, it’s not like I hate you. It’s not like I’m never gonna laugh at your jokes or hug you if you’re sad or listen to you if you need to talk. But we don’t need to be an official thing for that to happen, and it doesn’t mean you get to dictate what I do or who I do it with.”
Applejack stayed silent, trying to force back something worse than bile.
“Besides, this clearly isn’t about being official. If it was, you’d look angry, but right now you look like a whipped hatchling.”
“I…”
“What, exactly, is the problem with you?” Ember’s tail flicked. “Why did you take a perfectly nice day and try to use it as a way to make things exclusive? Why’d you have to go insult me like you did? Is this seriously all out of jealousy that you’re not the only one that wants me?”
“I ain’t jealous, bonehead. I’m scared.”
Ember froze. Applejack stared up at her, gritting her teeth, trying to ignore the bead of sweat trickling down her cheek.
“It ain’t a matter of you likin’ other folks at all, it’s a matter of you likin’ ‘em so much better that I ain’t gonna even be an afterthought to you anymore. It’s a matter of when you’ve got everythin’, you not even havin’ the slightest inclination to be with me when you can get so much better out there. So much hotter that ain’t so screwed up in the head an’ easily embarrassed an’ hard to talk with an’ bogged down by thinkin’ of all these dumb pony rules.”
“Applejack…”
“It’s not like you ain’t got a right to do what you want an’ love what you want. Jes’ a matter of...the thought of not...of not bein’ anywhere near as good as Rarity or your summer fling or all them other ponies an’ everycreature else that likes who you are an’ what you look like an’ all that.”
Applejack’s voice cracked.
“It hurts so bad that it feels like I’m breakin’ to pieces.”
Ember didn’t respond for a few seconds. Then she sighed, rubbed her eyes and looked back at Applejack without even a hint of rage. “Shit. Today seemed like it had ‘Rarity’s idea’ written all over it, but it was really your idea, wasn’t it?”
Applejack nodded.
“You’re genuinely in love with me, aren’t you?”
“I guess so.” Applejack wiped her eyes. “Otherwise, I ain’t got any idea why this whole conversation hurts so bad.”
“Applejack…”
Applejack sighed. “I know. I know. Plum foolish of me to say that an’ put you on the spot like this. I shouldn’t make you feel like you gotta reply one certain way or another.”
“I mean, I don’t feel obligated.” Ember scratched the back of her head. “Just kind of...bad, I guess. That things ended up like this.”
“Yeah.” Applejack took a deep breath. “This ain’t the first time I wish I didn’t feel a way that makes other folks uncomfortable.”
Silence settled once more. The sun, unnoticed by the two, crossed the last iota of distance and began an unmistakeable sunset.
“Thanks for lettin’ me be part of this,” Applejack concluded. “You, your business, this evenin’, the whole nine yards. I guess I don’t regret it.”
Applejack readjusted her hat one final time, turned around and walked away.
