Survival Through Resignation

Applejack had lost count of how many days it had been since she arrived. It felt like months, but she was sure it hadn't been that long just yet. She'd eaten once before, and she couldn't go that long without food. In all honesty, that was doing more to her than the beatings. She could handle the strain, but boasting a fast metabolism meant she'd burned through her only meal long ago.

The door opened, and the slave mare walked in again, with the same scrubbing equipment she'd had the first day. More important than that, though, she had another basket of apples. "Can we start with those?" asked Applejack, nodding to the basket eagerly.

"No, mistress," trembled the mare. "I'm under orders not to feed you until after you're clean, this time. I know you're not happy with that, but I--"

"Start scrubbin' then," interrupted Applejack. "Ah won't fight ya this time."

With a nod and a "Yes, mistress," the mare rushed over to the tap and started filling her bucket with warm, soapy water, then brought that back over and pulled out a long-handled brush. "I was also instructed to smooth out your mane and tail," she said, "But there was a vagueness in that order as to when I was supposed to do that."

"Prob'ly best ta do that before the scrubbin'," sighed Applejack.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "It could keep you from your food for longer."

"Ah can wait a few more minutes. If it'll help ya out, Ah mean."

"Thank you, mistress."

"You can just call me Applejack."

The slave looked up as she pulled a mane and tail brush from her basket. "You've decided to let them have your name, mistre-- Applejack?"

Applejack shook her head. "Just you so far."

The slave bowed to the floor. "It is an honour, mist-- Applejack."

"What about you? What's your name?"

The mare froze for a moment, unsure how to answer. "I... I don't know."

"Oh, come on," chuckled Applejack. "You can tell me. Ah won't judge ya for it, Ah promise."

"I don't..." she fidgeted around with her brush, trying to focus on removing the knots and debris from Applejack's mane. "I don't remember what it was."

Applejack furrowed her brow. "What do they call you when they want your attention, then?"

"Whore, Bitch, Slave, Hey, You or Cocksock depending on what they want."

"You sure ya don't remember another one?"

She thought about it. "They used to call me "the pink one" years ago."

"How long have you been in here?"

"Probably more than twenty years or so."

The statement hit Applejack harder than she was expecting. Being treated like a piece of equipment for two decades would certainly cause a strain on one's mind. Not hearing your own name for that long would certainly allow you to forget what it was.

When Applejack finally had wrapped her head around the concept, the mare had finished with her mane and was working on her tail, trying to be gentle. "How about if Ah phrase it this way? What would Ah say to one of these guards if Ah wanted to know where you, specifically, were?"

"I'm sure one of the other slaves could help you."

Applejack shook her head. "In this hypothetical, Ah need you, and nopony else will do. What do Ah call you then?"

"I don't know, mi-- Applejack. I'm sorry I keep messing up."

"Don't even worry 'bout it, sugarcube."

As the mare moved back to the scrub brush in the water, Applejack had an idea. "Can Ah see your cutie mark?"

The mare gestured to her flank. "It's been painted over with stripes, which I'm not allowed to remove. The last time I tried to wipe you down with oil, my stripes ran, and I was subjected to the whip."

Applejack lowered her head. "Sorry 'bout that. Ah didn't know you was a slave at the time. Ah thought you was another of them zebras."

The mare lowered her head. "I have done terrible things to many ponies under their orders. I'm no better than they are."

"Bullshit," answered Applejack. "Somepony steals your wagon wheels. Do ya blame the socket wrench?"

"I don't know what a socket wrench is."

Applejack sighed. "Look, anything ya do under their orders is not your fault. In Equestria, we call that duress, and it's a form of self-preservation. Ya didn't have a choice, as ya don't now. You're not allowed ta feed me until Ah'm clean, right?"

"Right."

"Well, there ya go. What would happen if ya did?"

"They'd whip me again."

"And ya don't like bein' whupped, do ya?"

"No... Applejack."

"Right. Now, Ah still need ta know what ta call ya."

"You can call me Bitch."

Applejack raised her eyebrow. "You sure?"

She nodded. "I don't have a real name anymore. If you want to call me something, it's what I'm most used to. Besides, I like dogs, so it's less offensive to be compared to one."

"Ah still think it's demeaning..."

"That's okay. It's just me. I'm nopony special. It is an honour to serve you, Applejack."

Applejack was still uncomfortable with the idea, and as soon as she had a name that was less offensive, she would try to pitch it. "Ah suppose it'll do for now, Bitch..."

Applejack could see a swell of pride on the mare's face, soon swallowed by regret, then fear as she continued scrubbing. Applejack was almost clean, and the possibility of Zaka walking in and seeing the job unfinished was always a possibility. Though she had been working much faster today than previously, he could always say it wasn't fast enough. She wanted to feed Applejack and be ready to serve once again, as she was okay with just being given more work, rather than being punished for simply being in the middle of the last command given.

As promised, Applejack did not fight back this time, and the rest of her bath went smoothly. Before long, Applejack was spotless, with the possible exceptions being beneath her shackles. She even remained still while Bitch dried her off with a towel.

Now was the moment Applejack had been waiting for. It was time for the apples. Bitch rummaged around, and soon came up with a worried look on her face. "I forgot to bring an extension arm."

"Don't worry about it, sugarcube. Ah ain't gonna bite ya. You can use your hands. Ah don't wanna hurt ya no more."

Bitch picked one up and brought it over, holding it up to Applejack's face, closing her eyes and wincing as if she was expecting Applejack to go back on her word. There was a crunch, then some warm liquid ran down her hand to her wrist. She whimpered, too afraid to look up.

"That's a braeburn, for sure."

Bitch looked up at Applejack as she took another bite. "What?"

"The breed of apple. It's a braeburn. Not exactly one Ah'm fond of, but it does make a very nice pie. Are you allowed to decide what apples come in?"

"I... I can try to ask."

"See if ya can't convince the ponies in charge to bring in some honeycrisps or golden delicious. They make for better eatin'."

"I thought all apples were the same?"

Applejack shook her head. "Take a bite a' this 'un, then a bite of that there fuji and tell me they taste the same. If that don't convince ya, try that granny smith over there."

Bitch looked at the basket. "I don't know which is which. And anyway, I'm not allowed to eat your food."

"Just tell 'em Ah bit into 'em," smiled Applejack. "Ah won't tell if you won't."

With Applejack's directions, Bitch tried all three, and there was a very obvious difference. Over their meal, she became more and more comfortable with Applejack, until the door opened, and Zaka walked in. Instantly, all joy had left the room.