Apple Hospitality

It takes a few awkward moments to get used to stepping with your stick at the same time she steps with her cast. You'd probably laugh at the two of you fumbling around if not for the sharp pain in your legs whenever you make a mistake. Still, once you get used to it, the two of you are able to hobble along at a reasonable pace. You aren't sure you'll be able to make it all the way to the farm, though. It's only been a few minutes and your legs are already protesting.

You're still worried about Applejack after what happened at the Hayburger, so you decide to risk bringing up what happened... though, if you're honest, you're mostly just trying to take your mind off the burning in your legs.

"Hey Applejack?"

"Yeah, Anon?"

"...Are you okay?"

Her ear twitches, "Didn't ya ask that one already, partner?"

"Yeah, but I mean really. You were awfully, uh... emotional today. Is something wrong?"

She doesn't respond. You wait a moment, wanting to let her answer at her own pace, but the lack of a distraction means your mind immediately focuses back on the fire in your legs, so you quickly add, "I don't mean to pry and I really hope I'm not upsetting you by asking, I'm just... I'm worried about you." Her ears flatten but she still says nothing. You continue, "Look, if you want me to drop it, just say--"

"Yes."

Caught by surprise, you freeze, mouth still forming your next word. Truth be told, you weren't expecting her to actually ask you to drop it like that. Still, she respected that you didn't want to talk about what happened with Dash, so the least you can do is extend her the same courtesy.

You sigh, "Okay, Applejack. I'm sorry. I won't bring it up again."

She looks at you confused for a second, then shakes her head, seeming a little tense. "I mean yes somethin' is wrong, Anon."

"...Oh."

"Somethin's wrong with me, somethin's wrong with Twilight, and somethin's wrong with all them buckin' ponies that can't see you as nothin' but a threat." She huffs a little and stomps with each step as she continues, "Me an' the girls do our best to teach everypony that 'friendship is magic,' then I look around and see there's still all this pointless hostility an' bickering, 'specially around you."

Your foot catches and you grunt in pain. Guess you were a little too distracted by what Applejack is saying--you had no idea she was so frustrated with everypony.

"An' our Princess of Friendship ain't exactly takin' it too well, either. It's like she just has to keep everypony perfect friends, an' if she sees somepony ain't gettin' along, she goes a little mad tryin' to live up to the title she chose for herself."

You stumble painfully again and suddenly realize Applejack is walking a lot faster and your poor legs can hardly keep up.

"Uh..."

"An' it feels like all this manure's comin' to a point right when I'm in the middle o' this buckin' heat that's messin' with my head so bad I can't hardly even talk like normal, nevermind figure out how to help my friends!"

"Applejack? Hey!"

You jerk to a halt and lean heavily on your stick. Applejack slows to a stop just ahead and turns around, looking confused.

"Ugh... you were nearly trotting by the end there." You slump heavily to the ground, wincing at the pain in your legs. "I guess you tend to walk faster when you're upset."

She sighs and sits in front of you. "I'm sorry, Anon. You're right, I tend to work myself up an' get carried away. I just wish--"

"Hey, there y'are!"

Apple Bloom's happy voice interrupts her as the filly trots up from the edge of town. Applejack does her best to make her expression pleasant, but either she fails to do so or you must look worse than you thought, because Apple Bloom pulls up short, looking worried.

"Uh... y'all okay? Ya look pretty beat up."

Applejack sighs, "Don't you worry 'bout it, sugarcube. What're ya doin' in town?"

The filly stares for a second, then smiles uncertainly at Applejack, "Ah was lookin' for you! Y'all've been gone for hours an' the sun'll be settin' any minute now."

You ask, "Did Granny send you or did you come looking on your own?"

"On my own! Ah was worried 'bout you two!"

You look to Applejack, who grins proudly, then you turn to give the filly a reassuring smile and say, "Well, don't worry. We're on our way back now... my legs are just even more sore than yesterday, so we're going pretty slow."

The filly relaxes and nods happily, "Alrighty! Imma just head on back t'help Granny with dinner."

She hops up but Applejack reaches out with a hoof to stop her, "Simmer down, sally, I don't think Anon's comin' to the farm tonight."

"Huh, what?" You say, confused.

Applejack turns to you and says, "Well, it's just... beggin' your pardon, Anon, but y'all really don't look too good. How's about 'stead of tryin' to make it all the way back to the farm, I just help you to your place, then trot on home myself?"

You chuckle softly and say, "Right, right, I have a house of my own. I've been spending so much time on the farm, It's starting to feel like I live there."

Apple Bloom covers her mouth and giggles, then blurts out, "Home's where the heart is!"

Applejack shoots her a nasty glare and she scurries away, giggling even harder.

"Anywho... Look Bloom, just head on back an' tell Granny that Anon won't be comin' for dinner tonight."

"Okay!" Apple Bloom turns and walks a few steps, then shouts back over her shoulder, "Betcha won't be comin' home tonight neither!"

She immediately gallops away as Applejack responds, "Huh? Apple Bloom!? Hey! YOU COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW, YOUNG MARE!"

Applejack snorts angrily and scrambles to her hooves, but you snatch her tail and hold on tight as she rears to give chase.

"Whoa girl, hold up! Applejack!" She whips her head around and glares at you, making you cringe, but you don't let go, "C'mon, don't look at me like that. You know you can't gallop on that leg."

She rolls her eyes and grumbles, but she steps back and sits again. You release her tail and it immediately starts twitching with annoyance.

"She knows full well I can't chase her right now..."

"Next time we see her, I'll hold her down and you can tickle her for ten minutes straight as punishment."

She cracks a smile despite her sour mood, "Now yer just bein' cruel, Anon."

You chuckle and try to struggle to your feet, leaning heavily on your stick. She hastily stands up so you can lean on her and the two of you continue walking in silence. A moment later, and just as you are turning the last corner to your house, the sun begins to smoothly lower into the horizon. In the fading light, you and Applejack notice a large package in front of your door.

"Huh?""

"Y'all order a delivery or somethin'?"

"No..."

You carefully lean over to open the note on the package, trying not to upset your legs too much. There was a surprisingly long block of text written in a slightly messy flowing script.

'Dear Anon: I thought about what Applejack said and talked to my filly... and I wanted to say I'm sorry for my behavior earlier today. The more I think about how you've acted since you came to Ponyville, the more embarrassed I feel that I ever doubted your intentions, especially since Applejack calls you her friend. Please accept this gift as a token of my apology. My filly and I would like to meet with you and Applejack to get to know you properly. Sincerely, Lily.'

You look up at Applejack, who sat patiently while you read--you're still pretty slow at reading Equestrian.

"So who's it from?"

"It's signed a name I don't recognize: Lily."

She gasps, "That's the mare I told off at the Hayburger! Y'know, Petal Bow's dam?"

Your eyes widen and your gaze falls back to the package. Applejack shuffles a little closer.

"Lily Valley runs the Ponyville Florist along with Daisy an' Roseluck. They're friends of the family, since we grow all their flowers... 'side from what they import, o'course."

"Wow, and you just smacked her upside the head and yelled at her in front of everypony?"

She rubs the side of her head awkwardly, "Well... she was actin' pretty foalish... an' I was pretty upset. I know her an' she oughta know better'n that, which just made her behavior seem even worse." She shakes her head and stands, "But anywho, what're we doin' just sittin' out here? Let's get inside an' see what's in the box. Bet it's just a bunch o' flowers..."

You open your door and Applejack shoves the package over the threshold and into your barren living room. You wobble over and collapse onto your couch, sighing deeply as your battered legs finally get to relax and stop carrying your weight.

"Wanna open it now or wait 'til later?"

Without lifting your head from the back of the couch, you can just barely see her when your eyes look down. You shrug your hands in a weak shrug, "May as well open it now. I'm not getting up for a while if I can help it."

Applejack pries the top of the box open, popping the tape with ease. She pulls out a small blue pouch, which she tosses into your lap, then pulls out half a dozen more pouches of different colors.

You open the pouch and lift it to your face to see a colorful blend of crushed leaves and dried flowers with a sweet, fruity scent. Applejack also pulls out a white kettle with pink and yellow flower-print, a pair of matching tea cups, a simple tea strainer, and finally a small card, which she passes to you. Aside from a simple, 'Hope you enjoy,' scribbled on the side, it's just a list of what color pouch is what kind of tea.

"Well... I guess it really is just a bunch of flowers."

Applejack snorts at your dumb joke as she peers closely at one of the tea cups. "This is pretty high quality stuff... Lily must feel just awful for her to get ya somethin' so nice."

"Guess so..."

You trail off and Applejack looks at you curiously, "Bit for yer thoughts?"

"It's just... Isn't it kinda sudden? I mean, she was absolutely terrified of me, now suddenly she's giving me some expensive gift and saying she wants to hang out and is even gonna bring her filly along? Why such an extreme change of heart?"

She carefully picks up the two tea cups and a few pouches of tea, then takes them to your kitchen, saying, "Well like I said, they're friends of the family, but Lily an' I are especially close. She knows I'm goin' through my cycle an' my emotions are runnin' hot, but even so, she knows I only get that upset when I really care about--"

She freezes suddenly as she places the teacups on your counter, then her ears fold down and she steps back, blush spreading across her face.

You search desperately for a change of topic before your own ears start burning. "You know, this uh... this tea actually smells pretty good. I didn't know ponies even drank tea."

With a poorly concealed sigh of relief, Applejack walks back to Lily's gift box, "We do, but it ain't really all that popular. Most ponies like everythin' either real sweet or mild an' salty. Ain't too keen on bitter." She carefully picks up the kettle and scoops up the rest of the pouches.

"I was wondering about that... Ponies eat so much cake, sweets and candy, but what little else you eat is kinda bland, like what I had at the Hayburger. Doesn't anypony want something with real flavor?"

She slides the kettle onto your counter and shrugs as she returns to you. "Ain't sure what ya mean by 'real flavor.' The Hayburger is said to be pretty darn tasty 'round town. There's a reason it's so popular, y'know."

You sigh as she hops up onto the couch beside you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see her turn sideways so she sits facing you.

"Man, I wish I was better at cooking," You say wistfully, "If you could taste one burger the way they made 'em back home... well, actually, I guess that'd be pretty terrible."

"Why's that?"

"Well, burgers back home aren't made with hay, the patty is made of ground meat, and it--"

"Hold up, you sayin' y'all can grow meat right outta the ground?"

You lift your head to give her a confused look, then suddenly snort with laughter, relieved to feel barely a twinge of pain in your abdomen, "Oh, no no no, ground as in grinding. We grind the meat up into a sort of paste."

You expect her to react with disgust, but instead she just raises her eyebrow, silently asking the question. You relax again, head rolling back into the cushion.

"It smooths the texture and you can mold it into any shape. It means you can make a round patty and every bite will have the same taste and texture. Then you toss the patty into a pan and the heat liquefies some of the fat so you can fry it in its own grease."

"Isn't the fat gross?" She murmurs faintly.

"Hell no! The more fat the better, that's where all the flavor is! The best cuts of meat have the fat spread evenly through the whole slice." You swallow and mutter, "Fuck, what I wouldn't give for some bacon right now..."

"Bacon?"

"Oh man, bacon. It's like... get a really good fatty cut of pork belly, rub salt and some seasoning into the meat, then let it cure for a few days. The salt dries out the meat and over time the flavor of the seasoning permeates it." It's been so long since you've had anything really savory, you describe the meat you've been craving with hardly a thought of how Applejack might react. "After a few days, you rinse off the excess seasoning and smoke it for a few hours. You'd think smoke wouldn't taste good, but actually it enhances the savory, salty flavor of the meat wonderfully. After the meat is dried and smoked, it can be stored for a long time without spoiling." You swallow again and your stomach growls audibly. "Then you slice it into thin strips and throw them into a frying pan or the oven and it fries in it's own grease like the burger meat I was talking about before... except bacon grease tastes so much better. It's one of the most wonderfully salty and savory meats ever. The only thing I like more is a nice cut of steak cooked juuuust right."

You sigh wistfully, then lift your head again to look at Applejack. Her mouth snaps shut and she quickly looks away, shuffling her body to turn away as well. Her ears and tail are twitching constantly and she just stares blankly ahead with wide eyes.

Abruptly realizing how horrible and disgusting that must have been for her, you are suddenly terrified you may have just ruined your friendship. The possible consequences flash through your mind: Not only is Applejack your closest friend, the pony you get along with best out of all you've met, but more than that, nearly all your other friends you've made were made through her. If you scare her off, it'd probably mean losing the entire Apple family, you'd lose any chance of making amends with Lily Valley... you might even lose Rarity and Twilight, too. Not to mention how much more difficult it would be to convince the townsponies you mean no harm if you alienate probably the most loved pony in all of Ponyville!

Losing Applejack would be a disaster!

You try to keep your hand from trembling as you gently reach out and touch her shoulder with your fingertips, "Hey... you okay?"

Her head droops and she groans softly. You force yourself to sit up and shuffle around to face her, "Oh, AJ... I'm so sorry. I didn't even think about how that might make you feel. I never meant to upset you."

"N-No, it... it's--"

"Please, you're my best friend. I would never dream of hurting your feelings. I don't know what I'd do if I scared you away. Just say the word and I'll never mention meat again, I swear."

"That's n-not..."

She lays down and covers her face with her forelegs. You lay a hand on her withers, hoping to comfort her, but she shudders so violently you jerk your hand back.

"A-Applejack?" Your voice is trembling slightly.

You can barely hear her reply, "I... I like it."

Confusion adds to the turmoil of emotions in your head.

"You like... like what?"

She shivers slightly, then shakes her head.

"AJ, please talk to me. What's going on?"

She takes a long, deep breath, then mumbles from under her forelegs, "I like when ya talk about meat."

You open your mouth, then shut it again, wondering if you heard that right. "...Wait, really?"

"It's..." she sighs, then uncovers her head and stares at the ground, blushing furiously, "It's buckin' hot, okay?"

You blink.

Your eyes widen.

"You... huh?"

Her ears droop and she begins to talk, staring at her hooves, "Most ponies don't eat meat. We can, but it's some sorta huge taboo, like we ain't 'sposed to be... I dunno, savages or somethin' no more. Ain't told nopony this, not even Granny... but I've always been a mite curious about it anyway. Then you come along an' describe it like it's the best food y'ever ate..." She rubs the cushion nervously with a hoof. "On top of that, I'm always eager to jump into danger. Goin' through the swamp or the Everfree forest... hay, just thinkin' about it gets me a bit giddy... makes me feel alive. Then ya sit there an' just casually talk about cuttin' meat like carving up some animal's flesh is just everyday life..." Finally, she looks up and meets your eye. "Then you smile an' I see those buckin' teeth that plainly belong to a carnivore an' a part of me wants to just bolt in terror, but another part of me wants to... uh, well..."

She closes her eyes, lowers her head, and shivers again.

When she doesn't continue, you slowly say, "So... just to make sure I got this straight... Me talking about meat makes you want to try it even more, and when I talk like some dangerous predator or you see my sharp carnivore's teeth, you feel a bit scared like you're in danger... but you actually kinda like it?"

"Eyup."

Relief abruptly floods through your chest as you realize that, if anything, you just made your friendship even stronger somehow. You take a deep breath as the tension flows out of your body. You'd never realized just how important her friendship was to you.

Now that you're past the initial shock and surprise, it's actually kinda funny. You stare at her silently for a moment. Eventually, she looks up, and you give her a big toothy grin. Her ears fold back and she bites her lip.

"Good thing the big scary predator is too weak to chase you!"

"K-Knock it off, Anon!"

You laugh, then suddenly whip your hand up and lightly touch her neck just under her chin with a finger. She winces and shoves your hand away with a hoof, but you lash out with your other hand and gently boop her snout.

She jerks her head back and wiggles her muzzle. You chuckle again and she lowers her head and growls, "Gon' be like that, huh?"

She rears up and aims a hoof at your forehead, but while your legs might be sore and useless, your arms have had all day to recover and are mostly fine. You casually grab her fetlock and straighten your arm, lifting her foreleg and pushing her upper body back. She yelps and waves her cast at you, but the back of the couch gets in her way on that side, so all she does is awkwardly tap your upper arm.

She yanks on your grip around her hoof and, when you don't let go, hangs from your hand, lifts up onto one hind hoof, and aims the other at the side of your torso. You hurriedly grab it with your other hand as it jerks forward and you are surprised at the force behind it. That would have actually hurt!

Her eyes go wide and her hind leg thrashes in your grip. With a deep grunt, you lift her by the foreleg and throw her hindleg out in front of you. She neighs wildly as she twirls on the spot and, once she faces away from you, you shove your palm into her back just above her tail, causing her to swing forward as you pull her foreleg down and toward you.

She whinnies as she falls backward, but you catch her head with your free hand before it slams into your thigh and, just as her rump hits the cushion, you release her foreleg and bring your arm around so you can pin the foreleg with your elbow. Then you grab her cast and pull it toward the side of her head so you can pinch her neck between your wrist under her chin and your other hand on the back of her head.

Now she's laying on her back in your lap, her head between your hands, her good foreleg pinned between your elbow and the back of the couch. She curls her body to try and get her hind hooves under your forearm, but your elbow is squished into the back of the couch and protected by its thick cushion, and with your forearm so close to her neck, she can barely reach, so all she does is scuff your arm with her hooves.

You look down at her and she snorts in your face, straining her neck, foreleg, hindlegs, anything she can against your hold, but as strong as she is, she lacks the leverage to really do anything but wiggle.

You grin wickedly.

Her hindlegs plop to the couch as she falls limp in your arms. Her enormous green eyes stare up into yours as her chest heaves, mouth slightly open, her breath hot against your face.

"So, you give--"

Her rear hooves thrust into the couch and her upper body swings around your grip on her forelegs.

Her lips press against yours.