Chapters warm smell of home and soon to be and tired earlier is bouncing now and Sister chasing Ma pinches her cheek love her and quiet now but doesn't really mean that part and world rushing through her head and everypony bursting with smiles as they have been all day and she doesn't quite know why but it seems to make happy when she tries so she'll keep on going one hoof and then another and then a laugh and then Grampa and Gramma who's always smelly of wrinkle-nose smoke hugging her close and Pa who looks so proud and then
She'd been Dancing she'd been Prancing, it had all been Fun and Games till she'd tripped, and fell, and now her leg was hurted. Silly Old Root. Pearly had ran away, shrieking like Discord Himself was in her, and why, because she was All Right Really. The ground was warm and comfy so she'd lie there more looking at the branches and the clouds. The tree was tall and smiley, she called him Woody. After Ma picked her up she was talking scary to Pearly, and Pearly looked all sad so Smith hugged her. Then it was time for dinner.
Well they said that soon they were to be a-moving, and she understood enough to nod along, but not till all started being packed away did she figure really what they meant. That it was leaving, she’d heard the word and seen the faces, Pearly's scowl at the sound of it, and now Smith saw it actual was she didn't think she liked it neither. Well enough the cart when carrying to market-day, but here it smelled old and ugly like a woodwork skeleton, and she didn’t want to follow birds that bad no matter how her father said it.
‘O he called out to the maiden so fair ...’I’ll climb on up there and make you a mare! ’and make you a mare! ’
It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair.I’m sorry. I’m sorry. it ain’t , but no matter how long she stayed awake she never came.
‘Cmon!’ called Apple Rose, ‘come try it!’Bleh .
She was no good at sewing. It was terrible and awful and she hated the fiddly threads and she kept stabbing herself with the needle and ‘Maaaaaa... ’Did I say that out loud?
It had been a naughty trick, and she was a naughty filly.
Plant a little tree. Just every now and then, not often, maybe every month or three. Dig a little hole with her hooves and drop the seed in pretty as you like. Come back to water it, if she remembered, if she could find the spot again. An acorn or a plum or an apple or a hazel. Her secret something all her own. Sometimes she’d think about the other seeds, in other places, and wonder how they were doing for themselves.
And he’d touched her, hmm, her leg, and that had been what made her make a scene. The words she’d heard before, filed them away to figure out later, the look too, but the hoof... She’d told Pa, and he’d just grumbled, so she’d told Ma, and she’d explained a bit, but Smith knew pretty well when she was being lied to (‘even by omission ’—her hypocrite mother), so she’d asked her friend Tea Spout about it, and eventually got an answer. Now here she was, and it was night, and Apple Rose asleep, and the carrot looked suddenly quite intimidating.
Old Steampot was something of a storyteller, and sometimes at fire-nights he used to sit and wind them up some wild tale or other. His hooves shook as Gramma helped him off the chair, and remembered when she had been a filly how she’d never even thought about his trembling. Nopony else felt ready for bed just yet, and Cherry Leaf by popular demand took up his place and began her story. In the commotion, while Apple Rose was well distracted, Smith leaned over to her mother and whispered, ‘Sorry for shouting, earlier.’ Ma smiled, squeezed her shoulder, and released.
‘How was it for you?’Hmph . Something to tell Apple Rose about, at least. A memory rose up, of planting seeds beneath the shade, and she smiled to herself.
The cart had broken down (again), so Pa had gotten mad (again), so here they were up on the bank (again), watching the rest of the caravan go by (again). Pa was sweating, swearing, muffled under the cart, and she and Tea Kettle and Minty were sitting playing cards aroadside.
Running around, all commotion. Upsetting old and young alike. Annoying squalling little things. She said as much to Ma, when they were making dinner, and Ma chuckled. ‘Just like you, when you got your cutie mark,’ she said, and Smith blushed and stammered, ‘Not likely,’ and changed the subject.
So this was it, then. Princess Celestia (who was definitely the prettiest mare she’d ever laid eyes on), had said that this was theirs, their land, their own. It didn’t look like much. A couple fields, a tree or two, a run-down hut toward the forest. The weather was weird, a fine grain drizzle that seemed to soak her instantly, right to the bone, and made the whole world look sort of like a washed-out painting. Nothing special, really. But it was land! And it was Home! And it wasn’t going anywhere!
It would be nice to write a letter . Pa was out for market day and staying the night, and Ma was around but neither of them were really company to talk to. The air smelled of lightning and green things, and Smith wanted somepony to share it with. She wanted to run around and show Apple Rose the trees, the fences, the barn they’d thrown up last year, explain the proper way of harvesting Zapp Apples, all the secret places she liked and wanted to know what other ponies thought of, too.
‘It sounds like you’re makin a business offer,’ said Smith.Smith , my heart aches for you my darling , etcetera, etcetera.’there , but if she had to go with any stallion, she could do worse.
Minty said it was lovely and they should make a tradition of it and Bampot agreed and Tea Kettle thought the barn was swell, next time they should build another, and Gramma looked sad when Grandpa was mentioned but it was all cleared up by reminiscences and though her flan got rather more cries of ‘well-done’ than she’d have liked, the apple pie went down a treat, and the girls took her aside to start on some sewing thing or other, and finally Apple Rose came up to say hello and the two of them talked long into the night.
She’d fallen out of the bush just in front of her. The look in her eyes had been wild and confused. Her fur was all snarled with brambles and fluffed up in fright, and when she’d seen Smith she’d gone white as a ghost.
‘You need a name,’ said Smith, peering critically up into its branches. ‘Can’t call ya sapling forever.’
‘You’re a time traveller.’
Twilight would like it, Smith thought. She enjoyed that sort of thing. Ma and Pa were on ahead, and Apple Rose was wittering beside her, and none of them had seen the nest inside the tree trunk. Of course, Twilight would say how interesting it was to see them in action, pronounce their name in Pony Latin, and supply some fascinatingly obscure fact she’d read somewhere in a book—but everypony else walked on.
‘Can I ask why?’
There was, in truth, only so much ‘She’s teaching me my letters,’ could excuse. Smith was amazed it had lasted this long. It had gone off like a firecracker and Pa had swung to hit her but she’d stepped aside and maybe he’d seen the look in her eyes because then he’d just walked right out, her mother after him, with one last awful look over her shoulder. So. She was officially a disappointment. She wanted to laugh, she wanted Twilight, and most of all she wanted home, but that was all too difficult, so she started to cry instead.
She wasn’t sure if she was invited, but she’d be damned if she wasn’t going anyway. She hadn’t missed a family reunion yet, and she sure as hay wasn’t going to start missing them now. And here: familiar faces, everypony milling, talking, chatting, having a grand old time. ‘Come help in the kitchen, dear!’ and suddenly she was transported back to cooking, baking, frying, laughing—through all of it, nopony said a word. Did they not care? Did they not understand? She smiled, asked around, and in the end she realised that it was worse than that: nopony knew at all .
Gay was Twilight’s word. It sounded strange to Smith’s ears, like a horseshoe that almost fit, but didn’t quite squeeze on. She’d been a gay child: happy, frivolous, excited. The same didn’t seem quite so certain now: her happiness came with an asterisk, like one of Twilight’s old books, a but... on the end of the sentence. She didn’t feel like a gay mare. The word for mares like her when she was young was different, it wasn’t even homosexual , it wasn’t even talked about. But... here she was now, and what was an asterisk but little star, really. Gay .
‘This is wrong,’ said Twilight, after a moment, ‘I shouldn’t be here.’
‘It’s alright.’Isn’t, ain’t . Ma didn’t seem to notice, so Smith reached out and pulled her close, covering her shaking shoulder with a hoof. It wasn’t alright. She wished that there was something she could say, could do, but really, there was only this.
‘Here it is,’ said Twilight, opening the book. ‘Yep! Told you.’knew there was something familiar about that hut.’Their good farmland.’she got it from the buffalo...’
The quilt was getting on in years, and not terrifically much longer. Apple Rose spent her time half sitting and sewing, half minding the creche with other mothers—Bright Mac was too big to keep bouncing on her lap as past. They were talking on about Minty’s new place in Fillydelphia, when Ma appeared and sat down quietly and asked if she could join. Twilight and Smith exchanged glances; everypony moved over to make more room, and suddenly the quilt was dancing in their hooves.
‘Maybe I’ll move,’ she said, quietly, and Twilight shrugged.
‘I wouldn’t worry too much,’ said Twilight, ‘I don’t remember any Pears in Ponyville when I come from.’
‘And here it is,’ said Twilight, opening the door. They’d done as much to make the room warm and cozy as they could, strung up paper-chains and stuffed toys and filled the shelves with books. Smith had tried her damnedest to make it feel as much like home as possible, full of all the little things and smells that made the word, everything a kid could hope for, everything that she had hoped for, all those years ago.
‘How is it?’
‘Can I stay up and hear the bells?’Maaaa... ’most of his chores.’only if you really do clean your room tomorrow. Promise?’
‘Sweet Celestia, I’m exhausted.’
‘I swear, one day that Pear is gonna find himself a nasty accident.’crack! ‘Ma, I’m home!’
‘Does it get better?’ she asked, one night.great .’
It was a strong old tree now, roots as wide as half the field and branches thick with green. Twilight sat beneath it, reading. Her glasses caught the sun just so, sending it scattering across the bark. She liked to read inside, usually, but today...the sun ducked in and out behind the clouds, and when it shrank, it set a rather different mood. Smith wondered how much of it was reading, and how much was simply sitting, being, existing near the tree and farm and life around her. Dinner was ready, but Smith let her sit out a while longer.
‘I had a very serious thought, just then,’ said Twilight.
Twilight was practically bouncing. ‘B! That’s so good, a B, I’m so proud!’
It wasn’t a wedding at all like she’d expected, but after the poor dear had been thrown away by her father like that...really, what else could she do.
‘Granny Smith.’you calling me that.’
The sun was shining, the sky was clear, and the trees were a-rustling with apples. Wind whispered sweet nothings through branches above, singing songs to their fellows in breeze. Granny Smith wandered through them with care, talking back to the trees--gently when she found a target, sternly when they gave her lip--telling them all the things she remembered. These days would soon be a thing of the past, she knew, could feel inside her bones--ten years, maybe less, maybe more. Ah, well. For now, life was good. It was a bright and a beautiful day.
Life was good. Was good, was good, was once, was great. So many things done, undone, the effort to count them all up. A life lived in pieces, in parts and in graces, a life loved alive and loved yet aliven't. What a funny old world. Yes, there had been others this way, she wondered to see them all soon, but if they were late she knew she'd be fine. She used to not believe in purple mares. She used to... Going where the one had gone. Except there wasn't one, but many. Family, and Love, and Two...and now One
‘You’re sure it’s not too much to ask,’ Smith said. ‘We can always go find an inn, or something.’ She turned to Twilight, who shook her head. Oops .
‘So here’s an interesting thing,’ said Twilight, one day.
‘Eight years.’possibility . But...I’ve done the maths.’Twilight Sparkle: 1409-???
ba dum, heart beat, thump thump, warm safe, life dark, our world, shape feel, touch fed, low warm, love here, convulse, shift turn, all right, un steady, stay safe, good pleased, and knot, colour, strange and, settled why, leave here, red pulse pulse, throb safe? leave stay, love me, always, always, always, time to, far grow, live welling, moving air cold a, crawl back, can not help, safety move climb love please ah ah name tell what, blink blink eyes smile fur this way and that and safe? but white and light and lots of noise and
‘Cmere,’ said Pearly, breathlessly, ‘cmon,’ and they were off, leaving Pa and all his shouting red behind. Smith felt a little sorry for the broken wheel, but still she didn’t think that they deserved the row for it. ‘It isn’t fair,’ she said, when they were tired out. ‘No,’ said Pearly, quiet-like, ‘It ain’t,’ and Smith said that they should stay out here a while longer. ‘Alright,’ said Pearly, since they were getting trouble later anyway, so they played beneath the trees till Ma came and called them back, and Pearly took her hoof and smiled and said ‘Race you!’
‘What about Copper Cure?’
‘It’s not a good thing,’ said Apple Rose with a burp, ‘for a mare to go too long without marriage.’
‘Tea Kettle helped us write it.’
