“Come on, AJ! Why don’t you come with me for a change? You know in Los Pegasus they have a casino themed entirely around fruit? Cherries, oranges, and—” she drummed her hooves against the ground for dramatic effect, her mane bouncing as she grinned, “You guessed it, apples! Slot machines that dispense apples, apples as the chips, appletinis, apple spritzers, the cutest waitresses dressed as apples — man, AJ, I swear, it’s like your soulmate, if you could have a soulmate for a casino instead of me.”
“Uh huh,” Applejack said, her eyes still on the bushel of apples she was supposed to be washing. She was still knee deep in the water, scores of apples bobbing around her in the tub.
“Or Dodge Junction!” Rainbow chirped. “There’s all sorts of crazy farming contraptions in the fields out there, to make stuff grow better in the desert. I see ‘em when we fly over. You’d have a whale of a time talking to all those old whackjobs who grow carrots or whatever out of nothing but sand.”
“Hmm,” answered Applejack, watching the apples dance on the water around her, spinning aimlessly. No direction. Like ships come unmoored, drifting on the waves.
Life…life just made no darn sense, sometimes. You could spend a week working hard, tending to crops, mending fences, chasing off troublesome critters. Listening to the trees, feeling the soil sink cold and loamy right up to the frog of your hoof. And things would be going well, you would start to feel like life was making sense again.
And then your wife would blow back into town and turn things upside down all over again.
“AJ,” said Rainbow Dash, leaning closer. “AJ. Are you listening to me?”
Guiltily, Applejack flinched. “I…uh…yeah, sugarcube, I’m listenin’.”
Rainbow raised one eyebrow, a familiar devilish smile spreading over her features. “Oh, yeah? What was I saying, then?”
For one long, silent moment, Applejack studied her. Time was when that smile had taken Applejack’s breath away. Still could, when the mood hit her right. But the mood seldom seemed to come nowadays.
Did that…mean something?
“AJ,” Rainbow prompted, her smile beginning to fade.
Hurriedly, Applejack pulled herself together. “Right. No. You were saying…uh, you were saying somethin’ about the casinos? Did you head to one after the show?”
“Six shows, thank you,” corrected Rainbow. “And that was just in Las P! We hit every major hotel, every big stadium. And we sold out every one!”
“Right.” Applejack forced herself to nod. To smile. Even if it felt strained. “That’s real good, sugarcube.”
Preening for a second before remembering her original point, Rainbow shook her head. “But I wasn’t talking about that, anyway. I was saying you should come. We’re going to Manehattan next week. I see something you’d like in every place we stop, so I bet there’s tons you’d love in Manehattan.”
Applejack thought of the city, its towering edifices of steel and glass, monstrous against the fading light. Her uncle and aunt, laughing as she stumbled over her fancy new accent. The ponies, the endless crush of ponies, one huge unnatural forced herd.
She shuddered. “No, thank you, hon. I reckon I’ll stick where I am.”
Lower lip jutting out, her wife began to pout. “Why do you never want to come? All the other guys’ partners come along for the ride at least some of the time.”
“I just…”
But Rainbow could not be stopped once she was in full flow. “And hell, some of them you couldn’t shake if you tried! Flash has been on every tour Soarin’ has ever done. He’s always in the stands with all this crazy Soarin’ merch, cheering his head off.”
“Rainbow, I—”
“—He’s a supportive husband.”
Now that was a step too far. “Rainbow Dash, that ain’t fair. I can’t…I can’t just up and leave.”
Rainbow Dash glowered. “Not even for one measly week?”
“No, not even for a week!” Finally reaching the point of exasperation, Applejack clambered out of her tub. Cleaning the apples was usually relaxing; one of her favourite chores. But whatever relaxation she might have found there, it was fled now.
"I don’t see why not.”
“You know why not.”
“Honestly, AJ, I don’t.” Rainbow’s expression was souring now. “Mac’s here, he can hold the fort down. He’s got Sugar Belle and Granny to help. So it’s not the farm. And it’s not Apple Bloom, before you give me that old horsechestnut. She’s nineteen. Doesn’t need you to hold her hoof any more.”
“I just — I can’t, okay?”
“No.” Rainbow Dash widened her stance, a fighting pose. “I really don’t get it, AJ. I want a wife who’s interested in my work, okay? I want you to support me. I want you to come with me and see all the cool places I get to see — because they’d be cooler if you were there! And you keep saying no.” Her eyes widened slightly. Softened. “Why not?”
“Because — because you—” No, stop there. It wasn’t the right place to go there. “It just ain’t me, RD. Can’t you just let me be?”
Pursing her lips slightly, Rainbow let out a breath and hoofed Applejack an old rag to towel herself dry with. “When we first got together I read…a heck of a lot of egghead farming textbooks Twi lent me. They were…pretty dull, I won’t lie. But I powered through. I found some interesting parts.” She paused, letting the impact build. “I wanted to support you.”
Applejack almost smiled. “Guilt trips ain’t gonna change my mind, shuck.”
“Maybe not.” Rainbow almost smiled back. “Worth a shot though, huh?”
“I guess.”
“But doesn’t it get…boring, here? Don’t you wanna see the world a bit, spread your wings?” She chuckled. “Metaphorically, I mean.”
“Boring?” Applejack looked around at her farmyard. The house, fresh painted and red as a new pippin. The leaves, green and healthy and pure. The sunlight, filtering gold down in dappled patterns against the ground. “Is that what you think this place is?”
“Not…boring,” hedged Rainbow. “But…would you think about coming? Just on one little tour. Any one you like. You’ve got my schedule; take your pick.”
Finally completing the process of patting herself dry, Applejack let out a long, slow sigh. “I just…come with me a minute, huh?”
“Sure.”
Applejack led her wife around the house’s edge, stopping just underneath the porch. A wizened old mare the colour of a faded green crispin rocked slowly in a chair. Forward, back, forward, back.
“Granny!” Applejack raised her voice a little. You had to holler at the old girl if you wanted to be heard, these days.
“Eh?” said Granny Smith, peering around with rheumy eyes. “Whassat?”
“Granny!” bellowed Applejack. “Granny, can you do the rhyme? Say it for Rainbow Dash!”
“Whatchu say?” shrieked Granny Smith, as though under the impression that others were as deaf as she was. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Granny!” yelled Applejack. “It’s AJ! I wanna hear the Cob-bert Burns rhyme again! Recite it for us!”
“Oh!” Granny Smith said, a vacuous smile settling over her face. “Well, alright then. Why didn’t ya just say so to begin with?”
Applejack offered Rainbow a vaguely apologetic smile, and Rainbow just smirked back at her.
And then Granny began to recite the poem, and just as it always did, her voice took on that calm, melodic cadence. The strange accents of Old Ponish touched her voice, and she no longer shouted or quavered. Full of confidence, full of strength, she spoke, and it was like a mare decades younger sat in her place.
“What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin grey, an' a that.”
Applejack leaned forward, spellbound, and the world fell away.
“Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine;
A mare’s a mare for a' that.”
These were the rhythms that had shaped her childhood. These words, spoken among these trees, had taken root in her heart. And that little orange foal had blossomed, put out leaves to drink in the goodness of Sweet Apple Acres, just as the trees did. These were the sentiments that anchored her heart here, in this place.
If Rainbow Dash would listen, as Applejack was listening, then surely she would understand that too.
"For a' that, and a' that,
Their tinsel show, an' a' that.”
“What’s she saying, AJ?” Rainbow Dash hissed, and Applejack clapped a hoof over her mouth.
“Shhh!”
Granny leaned back into her seat, blind eyes tipped upward, as she almost sang her finale to the heavens.
“The honest mare, tho' e'er sae poor,
Is Princess i’ truth for a' that."
When it was over, while Applejack was still, drinking in the profound silence that always followed those sublime words, Rainbow wrinkled her nose.
“What the hay’s hoddin grey?”
With a small sigh, Applejack came back to herself. “I’m shucked if’n I know,” she replied. “But it holds true, don’t it? The honest mare, tho’ e’er so poor, is Princess in truth for a’ that.” She mangled the pronunciation a bit, but Rainbow didn’t seem to notice.
“I just…I don’t see why you can’t try a bit, AJ. And the poem…I mean, it was a nice poem, but I still don’t get it.”
I still don’t get it. Truer words had never left Rainbow Dash’s lips, and Applejack’s heart sank.
She had tried her best to explain it. That she wasn’t a city mare, that she never could be. The crowds, the chaos — it wasn’t her place. This was her place. Ponies searched their whole lives to find happiness, and Applejack had found hers. It would be complete, if…if her wife would quit roaming, just for a little while. If she would settle with her, here.
If.
When she failed to answer — again, a guilty little voice in the back of her mind whispered — Rainbow Dash’s ears tilted back and she shuffled her hooves.
“Right. Well…I guess…I guess I’ll go wash up, then. It was…a long flight.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Applejack watched her wife leave. Again. Prismatic tail bobbing up the steps. An absent-minded hug for Granny. A door swinging shut behind her. Again. Again.
And Granny’s lips were still moving, humming the last lines over again, just under her breath.
“The honest mare, tho' e'er sae poor,
Is Princess i’ truth for a' that.”
