It wasn’t like there was no death in Equestria. Everypony knew that only the Princesses and Discord lasted forever. It had just felt like this day would never come. There was no forewarning, and yet, she’d had all of the time to see it. She was just too bling to know.
She didn’t even remember why she was here, truly, why she was lying down beside the old picket fence in the summer burned grass. She had no reason too, no reason to do anything at this time of day, any day. Her legs had barely carried her far enough to be out of sight of the barn, but that was further than she walked in the house, most days. Her creaking joints had sighed with relief, her back groaning, as she had settled down here, at the place to be.
There wasn’t an ounce of strength left in her old body, not a morsel of muscle still inept enough for use. Just tired, broken, aching, worked joints of the oldest mare anypony knew outside of the Princesses.
It was almost comedic, really, that just when everything had gone right with the world, just when ponies seemed to feel safe in their own homes again, she would find herself leaving it all behind. She didn't want to go, but at the same time, a nice, long nap didn’t sound so wrong to her. She’d had a good life, if hard from time to time but then again, life wasn’t life without those tough parts.
She remembered herself once telling Apple Bloom that life was an apple tree. Apple trees were inherently good, and if they were treated right and given the right care, would stay good. Now, a tree that wasn’t cared for could easily become bad, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t become good again.
Granny Smith’s life had been a good apple tree life. Sure, she’d had her few rotten apples, but that was the fault of the worms and fruit bats of the world, and not the tree. Heck, Celestia had literally blessed her family with one of the most fertile plots of land from Las Pegasus to Manehattan.
She remembered to count her blessings, momma had taught her that. She also remembered that blessings only came to those who worked for them. That was poppa’s teaching, and she’d passed it on to her baby, and her baby’s babies. And now here they were, all grown up and moving along in life, just like she had. Big Mac had a lovely wife now, Applejack was working happily and stronger than ever, and even little Apple Bloom had become one of the primary assistants, along with her friends, at the School of Friendship.
All grown up, she mused silently as she leaned her side back against the fencing. It’d been too long since he’d lain in the grass, she realized. Her stomach had missed the feel of grass against it, or the way the sun warmed her back and her lower side kept cool. She sighed. It was a tooting shame she wasn’t going to be able to relish that feeling much longer.
Oh well, life was life, and it came to an end when the season came. And she could see the storm clouds, dark with rain. She was sorry she was going like this, sorry that she would be going without her family beside her, but then again, she didn’t wish the last memory of their Granny to be of a withered old maid coughing in bed. Darn it, she wouldn’t let them know death first hoof until they had to sleep themselves.
Actually, she couldn’t keep that oath, seeing as she was going herself now. Grumbling incoherently, as her voice was too quiet to hear, and the words coming out of her mouth were from the tongue and not the head, she stood again. The mid-morning sun shone on her path, and she smiled with an equal brightness. She silently thanked Celestia for the bright sun in the sky, and the cloudless day. She wished that she could last long enough to watch the moon rise as the sun set, but she knew she had no strength left to stay.
Even now, as she began slowly trodding away from the fence and towards the more wily part of the grove, she could feel her eyes wanting to close permanently. Her hooves had no strength to carry her weightless body, her aching body moving so slowly, yet so tediously. Her slow plodding led her down a relatively new path in the orchard, one made for the purpose of Mac and Sugar Belle’s wedding. She smiled as she remembered the day not so different from today.
The sun slowly became more and more blotted out by wilder apple trees as she slowly moved along the path that ran beneath their canopy. She watched as the distant clearing became gradually less distant, until she was finally trodding into it.
She stared up at the tree before her, the entangled branches and large, split bases. Roots stuck above the ground here and there, rich emerald moss topping them. The old mare smiled as she settled herself at it’s base, stroking her hoof over the place where the two trunks converged.
“Hello again, littl’ns,” she murmured. “I’m hopin’ ya don’t me joinin’ ya so late.”
The branches creaked slightly as a soft wind blew through the apple-pear tree. She took it as a yes, so she scooted in closer.
“I’m sorry ‘bout leavin’ ya without me fer so long, Bright,” she apologized, leaning against the tree softly. “Yer kiddos needed me still, so I had ta stay. They're all grown up now, ya see? There all strong ‘n smart like th’ both a’ you, nice sturdy Apple-Pear trees. I think they’ll be doin’ just fine without me.”
Granny Smith aloud her old eyes to close as she smiled softly, leaning her head against the tree planted by her two babies. She didn’t fear dying here, without so much as a bird to bid her well off, not anymore. All she needed was right here.
“Ya know,” she muttered to the two young ponies, “I think it’s high time fer a nap. Just like old times, when you’d be sleepin’ with yer basket a’ apples and I’d tuck ya inta th’ hay. Other than this time, I b’lieve I’ll be tucked inta th’ leaves by you.” She yawned contently, sliding deeper among the roots of the tree. “Well, G’night, my dears. I’ll see ya in th’ mornin’.”
Granny Smith closed her eyes, a subtle, eternal sleep taking her. Her face relaxed, the smile falling with her head, until finally, she lay against the grass.
In the far off distance, an apple tree fell.
Applejack smiled in bittersweet memory of the oldest tree in the orchard. Granny would be sad to see it go.
