Auntie Adagioby Rune Soldier DanChaptersLet's Try Something NewThe Passing of LeavesBattle of the Band MomsLet's Try Something NewA thousand years on Earth was a long time. Too long for the defeated sirens to keep what little loyalty once bound them together. Adagio had wandered alone for many decades and did not feel lessened for it, starting petty fights to sup the emotion then disappearing to a new bar, city, or country. Like those bats who drink blood from unwitting cows, a silent parasite in an oblivious throng. It wasn’t a comfortable existence. Rage and bitterness sustained her health, but she couldn’t put them in her gas tank. Her primary source of funds was seducing dupes into privacy and robbing them at knife-point, with their betrayed anger only sweetening the deed. A long stint in Seattle had begun to draw attention, and so some hours ago she decided it was time to move on. A stolen car, a CD burned with the few human songs she enjoyed, and a long, rainy drive to Canterlot. Adagio heard the crash before she saw it, above the piano music and the cascade upon her windshield. The desperate, futile screech of brakes on wet pavement, the explosive scream as steel wrapped around steel and flesh. She didn’t intend to stop. It was none of her concern. But the semi truck had teetered and tipped, sprawling across both lanes and into the poor sedan coming the other way. The road was blocked, and Adagio didn’t trust her clunker in the muddy swamp to each side. Her initial plan to grumble and wait fell away when she heard the screams and felt them upon her tongue. The despair of children – unformed, immature. Nourishing, but like an under-ripe banana the taste left much to be desired. Something else was mixed in, though. Fear of a more intense, mature variety. It was enough to lure her from the car. Trapped this far from anywhere, there was no telling when her next meal might come. Adagio held up an expensive umbrella and approached calmly. Two human brats wailed in the back seat, with one corner of the semi occupying most of where the front used to be. Adagio peered in and flinched. Ageless monster she might be, but she was a dainty one and gore churned her stomach. She looked past what used to be a man to the woman next to him. A pretty thing, at least from the chest-up. The rest was gone, and it was clear she was not long for this world. Brilliant blue-green eyes watered, her mouth unable to bring in more than little gasps as the strength to do any more fell away. She beheld Adagio, eyes wide and crying. Adagio looked back to her with cool indifference. The woman’s voice was shrill, pressed out by the last effort of ruined lungs. “Please look after my children.” It wasn’t safe in there. Adagio brought the brats to her car, airily promising that their parents would be fine. The boy gave her a look that showed he did not believe her, but for some reason he followed her lead. Though crying himself, he busied himself comforting the smaller girl. Adagio eyed them in the mirror. Both had more freckles than face, certainly adorable to those who cared. Sirens appeared through the rainy dark. Just as well, someone had to clear the road for her. Hopefully they wouldn’t check her license – a plan was forming in her mind that didn’t involve any dead policemen. She turned in the seat, feigning a kindly smile to the children. The girl stared past her with mouth half-open, so she looked to the boy. “What are your names?” His throat worked, and his glassy eyes trembled. A desperately brave face that only barely held in the scream. “Macintosh ‘n Applejack.” “What about your parents? The police will be asking.” The questions actually seemed to help, giving him a bit of distraction. “Pear Butter and Bright Mac. Lady, I–” “Shush, dearie.” Adagio reached back and stroked a hand along his cheek. “I’ll need your address in case your parents aren’t able to drive you home.” The boy bristled. “I know that they’re–” “Shush, shush.” Adagio tilted her head to Applejack, and that did the trick. The boy fell quiet. Slim pink arms reached over to wrap around his sister. “Two Applewood Lane.” “Thanks, sweetie. I’ll talk to the police, you two wait right here.” Adagio passed back the little snacks she pilfered at the gas station, a bag of gummies and a canned tea. Then she left and approached the sirens, this time leaving the umbrella in the car. A little running of the makeup would add to the effect nicely. The cops didn’t even look at her license. To them she was just a bystander, and a useful one. With a wavering voice she confirmed the identity of the couple in the sedan. She was a family friend and would take the young children to their home. Yes, she knew the address. No, she didn’t know the truck driver and didn’t care that he was dead. Maybe the police would have been more thorough if it wasn’t raining so bad. She fed them a little line about the children being traumatized and they agreed to leave them alone. A truck arrived during the chatter and pulled the semi off the road. Adagio returned to her car to find Macintosh feeding his sister gummies, one at a time. She stared forward throughout it all, only chewing when he told her to. “I’ll be taking you home,” Adagio said. Neither answered. The police gave her an escort. Maybe they weren’t as trusting as they seemed, but it was just as well. She loitered outside as they broke the news to the old granny with the baby in her arms. The wails carried to Adagio outside as she silently waited her turn. The grief was sharp and tangy on her tongue. A rare treat, much harder to engineer than other emotions. Even the grief of funerals was nine-tenths expended, but here here and now… well, the detour was already worth it. She brought in the kids – that was important, for the granny to see her bringing them in. The woman didn’t question her presence, embracing the children as they cried in each others’ arms while the police awkwardly stood in wait. Adagio slipped her introduction into that vulnerable moment – “A friend of Pear Butter, but don’t worry about me right now.” – and set herself to work. Fixing a snack for the kids and helping their tear-stained faces through the necks of pajamas. Diaper changes for the baby she caught was named Apple Bloom. By the time the police were gone and children were in bed, Adagio had thoroughly ingratiated herself to the woman, now formally introduced as Granny Smith. The old matriarch had recovered enough to be curious, but without suspicion of the stranger helping so willingly in her hour of need. Adagio fed the baby formula as she fed the woman lies. She was an old friend of Pear Butter, though alas not a close one. Pear was her rock, her calm voice at the end of the phone when Adagio’s life was falling apart. Adagio had finally hit rock bottom, and Pear invited her to stay at the house. She was on her way when she saw the accident. “This isn’t a coincidence,” Adagio said urgently. Humans loved to believe things weren’t coincidence. “I can help, Miss Smith. The kids, the farm, whatever you need me to. It’s all I can do for her now.” More tears. A warm embrace. Adagio’s cool gaze looked out past the hug, taking in the living room of her new home. A soft, lived-in kind of place, with furniture worn enough to be comfy and hand-sewn decorations. It would do nicely. A sound came from above their heads. The wailing of children. “I’d hoped they were tired enough to sleep.” Granny sighed and turned to the stairs. Adagio followed. “Let me help.” Granny was tired, herself. “Alright. You take Applejack, I’ll take Little Mac.” Adagio pressed open the door she pointed to. A clean little room, with toys returned neatly to a wooden box. Applejack pressed herself to the pillow, shaking and crying. Her six year-old brain was finally digesting the reality of what had happened. Adagio sat on her bed. With one hand, she began stroking the girl’s back. And she began to sing. The language was that of the sirens. Even with her magic waned low after a long thousand years, the words themselves had power. Bars and parks across the world had heard them whispered to the air, picking at the rough edges of hearts to spark brawls and break-ups. But these were different words. They balmed and soothed, filling the soul with contentment instead of anger. In the past Adagio used them to dodge trouble or access clubs; here, the light hypnosis calmed the young girl’s heart, and those of the two in the neighboring room. It did not erase the grieving love, but warmed and comforted it. The crying stopped, the sobs became still. Adagio watched Applejack’s sleeping face a moment longer. Adorable, even with her eyes red and puffy. Really, they were all cute in their own way, even the baby. Strictly optional, but it would make the coming years pass more pleasantly. She slipped downstairs. The granny had fallen asleep to her song, laying in bed with Macintosh. Adagio could explore the house for a guest room later. The couch would do well enough for tonight. Actually, it was wonderfully comfortable. Far more so than the cheap hotels she usually flopped down in. She stared at the ceiling, willing herself to stay awake long enough to review the day in her head. Then, finding it to have gone perfectly, she smiled. One day, some biologist might learn sirens and changelings held a common ancestor, though their evolutions took vastly different turns. Changelings adapted to life on the crowded land by becoming parasites for affection, while the unforgiving ocean turned sirens into predators who drank on fear, despair, and hate. Love was strange to the siren palate, and not in a good way. While changelings tasted negative emotions as uncomfortably sour, love to sirens was like reheated mashed potatoes and plain chicken. Yet negative emotions are short-lived, despite themselves. Even the deepest hate fades over time to a thing thought rather than felt. This transient nature mattered little in the darkness beneath the waves where all was transient, nor when the empowered sirens simply raised havoc wherever they pleased. Those days were gone. Feeding now took preparation and care. Adagio was tired of acrid, smokey bars and restaurants where even the anger tasted like grease. Crappy motels that devoured most of her income and left her pathetically going to hospitals to remove bedbugs. The endless cycle of resentment growing in city underbellies towards the woman who always seemed to start fights, leaving Adagio silently judging when would be safest to skip town, starving for a few days to set up somewhere new. She was ready for something more reliable, more comfortable. Love wasn’t tasty, but it was consistent. These dupes would sustain her for decades if she played her cards right, and so far she’d been perfect. So Adagio woke up first, beating the family’s farmer instincts to rouse them with smells of eggs and frying meat. The first little tastes of their budding love went down fine with her bacon. She listened softly as the family reminisced, distracted the children as Granny began calling family to spread word of the terrible news. It didn’t take long for Applejack to drop Adagio’s new nickname which the others quickly took up. More than a nickname – a symbol, a confirmation of her place in the family. She was theirs, now, or so they thought. They were hers. “Auntie Adagio.” Author's Note Just a lil' thing that came to mind while chatting with PaulAsaran about possible AUs where the sirens encounter Rainbooms at a much younger age. Gonna be about three chapters total. The Passing of LeavesAdagio was a godsend in the difficult weeks that followed. Diapers, bedtimes, cooking. Mostly she minded the children while Granny Smith plugged gaps in the farm and business. Plenty for the old woman to do regardless, and Adagio wasted no time in learning the simpler tasks to help ease her load. The siren dribbled information for the old matriarch, continuing to play her hand well. She had no home or family of her own to go back to. It was strange, yes, but Adagio didn’t and wouldn’t want her name on any wills or bank accounts. Nor did she want payment for business errands or anything like that. Food and the guest room was enough, along with the chance to repay the invented kindness Pear Butter once showed her. The funeral was perfunctory, but they always were. Distant relatives arriving out of obligation, their annoyance salty on Adagio’s tongue. She heard a few whisper warnings to Granny against the convenient stranger, but seeds of trust had already sprouted. Adagio watched the children at home while Granny attended to the burial. The shock had worn off by then – they toured her around the orchard, proudly showing off short cuts, bird nests, and chores she soon would be helping with. They sat down for lunch in a particularly pleasant clearing and she sang to them with the baby in her arms. No magic this time, that was saved for sad evenings and scary nights. A few weeks later, Granny deemed them ready to visit the grave. It was more serious than sad, with the dry-eyed children stepping up to speak as though their parents could hear. ...And perhaps they could. During their long journeys through Equestria the sirens had seen ghosts and visions of afterlifes both heavenly and otherwise. Adagio did not doubt such things existed on Earth. ‘A stolen life.’ She rallied. ‘Not stolen. I did not take this from them.’ It became Adagio’s turn to stand before the tombstone, and a thrill of silent fear went through her heart. ‘Please look after my children.’ An out, an excuse. An offering for any vengeful ghosts who might be watching. “I’m doing what you asked,” Adagio said. Granny was escorting the kids to the car, perhaps to give her privacy. “They need me, and I’m here. There’s nothing wrong with me getting something out of it, is there?” The stone offered no reply. Not even a breeze or cloud gave any sort of omen as she turned back to the others. It didn’t take long for the early buds of love to blossom fully, for Adagio made herself easy to love. Eager to learn, eager to help. Happy to sing at the children’s request so long as they ate their peas, happy to hold Apple Bloom all night during her fits of colic. The cynicism of running a business came entirely naturally to her, letting her take more and more of the load to let Granny focus on the farm. The preference was only noted with amusement by Granny, who didn’t let her dodge quite all of the farm work. Nor was it all sappy feelings with the family. One day while Granny was driving a delivery, Adagio found herself called in to Applejack’s school, thence to summon Applejack to the dining room. “Reading lesson, squirt,” Adagio set a letter down in front of her. “Out loud. I’ll help you with any of the hard words.” A demerit for picking on another kid. Specifically, shoving a worm in another girl’s face three times. Applejack’s constellation of freckles twisted into a scowl. “That’s Rarity. I hate her.” “You’re being a bully,” Adagio said. That proved a magic word. Good lessons from her family (most of all her kindly elder brother) had instilled Applejack with a marvelous aversion to becoming a bully. She howled for forgiveness, breaking down so badly Adagio turned to magic song to calm her down. It all resolved well enough from there. Macintosh was happy for Applejack to do all his chores that evening, and a call to Rarity’s parents showed the girl cried over every little thing and they were more interested in gossiping with Adagio than holding a grudge. Applejack got it in her head the same night to be extra nice to Rarity the next day. Adagio helped her write an apology letter that went to school with a fistful of picked dandelions. She returned home with a blue ribbon tied into a bracelet around her wrist. “Rarity gave this to me. I like her.” Rarity proved the first friend little Applejack brought over, though they quickly learned to stick to indoor activities on muddy days. Mac’s friends proved an unruly mob, wolfing down the food Adagio served (albeit with many polite ‘thank yous’) thence to run off for boyish games of running and yelling. Applejack tended to play with one friend at a time, likely owing to their differences. With Rarity, it was odd games of Action Jacks married to Bobbie dolls. Rainbow, racing and swimming. Sweet Fluttershy, playing with the chickens. Adagio mused on her adopted family one day, holding Apple Bloom up high to look down on her. “Mac’s a boy, and Applejack is… basically a boy. No one but you to pass on my feminine siren wiles to, but that’s alright. You’ll grow up to be a girly girl who’ll go perfume shopping with her auntie, won’t you?” Apple Bloom beamed down at her. “Gra’na.” She called everyone ‘Gra’na,’ much to Granny Smith’s delight. Adagio would go on to lose second place to ‘Mackee.’ ‘Ajee’ was Apple Bloom’s third word, ending that little race in a draw between her and Applejack as they couldn’t tell who the baby meant. And then she had ten words, twenty, fifty. Macintosh joined a little league. Applejack began writing in cursive, and when the teacher saw what she wrote about Rarity they sent another letter home. “I hate her,” Applejack groused. Two weeks later, Adagio walked in to find her making a Christmas card for the girl. “Rarity let me try her lipstick,” Applejack explained. “I like her.” December didn’t look too merry at first. There was no getting around that the farm lost its two most productive workers. Granny Smith had braced the kids for a quiet Christmas. Instead, Adagio sold her car and made it a loud one. A good baseball bat and cleats for Macintosh, an army of Action Jack figures for the little tomboy, a DVD player and full Golden Girls collection for Granny. Apple Bloom’s cut was saved for when she could form an opinion. Adagio, to her full surprise, got a pair of name-brand pumps courtesy of Granny’s own secret funds. Somehow she had noticed that Adagio missed the finer things in life, just a bit. Nothing she ever spoke out loud. Just sighing looks as they passed fashion stores on the way to secondhand shops, and models on magazines at the pharmacy. Adagio… didn’t quite know what to make of it. She fiddled with the shoes, running her hands along their shiny purple spikes, long into the night of Christmas Day. It felt uncomfortable, somehow, trying to ponder how she felt. So she stopped, and went to bed. The cash flow had stabilized by next Christmas. A heady, fun day of apple liquor with Granny and watching the children run around like maniacs. Sappy as it would be to admit, even the love tasted spicy and warm that day. Yet that was not singularly unique anymore. A year of living off love had taught Adagio to sense its subtitles. Not tasteless at all, but hearty and filling. Like how a human addicted to processed sweets would think a well-made cake bland until they take the time to slow down and enjoy it. Love could be peppered by hard work, marinated by play, sweetened by time spent in relaxed affection, made just a bit vinegary when there were scoldings or fights. Adagio became such an expert that she could sense when there were hard days at school, or guilty secrets being kept. These would lead to questions and answers, leaving the humans to marvel at how sharp their auntie was. The next Christmas came. Then the next, the next… Adagio’s hopes for Apple Bloom to be a girly ally were dashed as soon as she could walk. Applejack had mimicked and inherited Mac’s affection for younger siblings, and the two happily took her out on adventures through the orchard during the day, then to war with their Action Jacks before bed. Apple Bloom took pride in her red hair, though, which at least gave Adagio something to work with. The pink hair bows she gave one birthday proved the biggest gift-win of her life. Long hours in the office, broken up by Granny Smith reminding Adagio to eat. T-ball games for the growing Apple Bloom. Junior track meets for Applejack, watched by the young, prissy Rarity sitting in the bleachers. Poor Mac’s first breakup. Adagio took him out for ice cream, and sang to him on the way home. Her powers were weaker than ever. Some days she didn’t even feel any magic in the words, yet it calmed the others all the same. Strange. Songs to Applejack after a bad fight with Rarity. Songs to Granny in the hospital, recovering from her hip replacement. “I’m getting old,” Granny grumbled. “Aren’t we all?” Adagio laughed. Granny gave her a curious look at that, for among them all Adagio had been unchanged. Granny’s steel-gray hair was turning slowly to white, the children were growing as children do. But Adagio had only been with them for five years (five years?), and the lack of change was not yet worth commenting on. Give it ten, fifty, a hundred, and there would be no denying it. Strange, though. The five years passed by so… slowly. The rest of Adagio’s immortal life was a blur, yet she could still feel the infant Apple Bloom in her arms. She could recall so clearly the myriad little games they played in the orchard, the long evenings of drinking and penny-poker with Granny Smith. Ten, fifty years. What then? Adagio supposed the gig would be up. She would have to Disappear. Move on to another family for ten or fifty years. The experiment was a success. No more need for bedbug hotels and greasy bars. A new way to live. So why did she hate to think of it? A few weeks later, Granny made her a chocolate cake and Macintosh swept the house without being asked. Applejack made apple chicken saute, a dish Adagio loved because Applejack poured her own love into it (made a little spicier today, because she was thinking about Rarity). Apple Bloom drew a picture of all five of them together. They had noticed Adagio was feeling down. No siren-sense required. “Anything you want to get off your chest?” Granny asked after the kids went to bed. They sat out on the porch, sipping apple liquor. Adagio opened her mouth and half a truth tumbled out. “I wish this could last forever.” “Nothing does,” Granny replied. “Not even you, young miss.” Adagio looked sharply at her. Did she know… no, she couldn’t. Granny settled down on her rocker. “You won’t be young forever. I won’t be old forever. Hopefully by the time you’re my age, one of the kids will be ready to take over and you can retire properly.” “Do you wish you could retire?” “I wish my son was still alive.” Granny shrugged off the old wound. “But if wishes were fishes and yadda yadda. The work is keeping me young, honestly. If I had nothing to do I’d sit in this rocker til Judgment Day. I’m just glad you’re around to chase these kids.” “They’re a delight,” Adagio said. Another truth. She shivered. “I wish they would stay small.” Then she wouldn’t have to go. “No luck there,” Granny chuckled. “They’re Apples. They’re gonna be tall as trees before they’re twenty.” Her face changed, wincing with tightly closed eyes before giving a wan smile. “Hell, twenty… I might make it there for Mac, not so much Apple Bloom. It’ll probably be on you to walk ‘em down the aisle when the wedding bells ring.” A knife twisted in Adagio’s gut. She laughed. “Don’t say that. You’ll outlive all of us.” “No chance. I’m next. I better be, after I had to...” Granny paused, shook her head, smiled stubbornly. “I’m just glad we got you, girl, in case they’re still growing when I go. You were an angel back when things were rough. You still are.” An angel, a guardian angel. It was more than irony that tugged up Adagio’s lips into an honest grin. “Of course I’ll stay. As long as I can.” She hadn’t meant to let the last part slip out. “Got somewhere to go?” Granny asked. Adagio dodged. “We all do, in the end.” “Reckon so.” Granny let the rest slide. They sat in silence a little longer, listening to the nighttime sounds of their orchard come alive. “By the way,” Granny said with a twisty little grin. “You’re young and all so I doubt this is a problem. You’re okay with Applejack being gay as a gaybird, right?” “Was worried you weren’t.” “Heck, us Apples don’t have time for nonsense.” Granny downed her drink and scowled. “They tried to warn me off’a you back then, at the funeral. But look at them, not one other Apple has visited since then save ones as old as me. Way of the world now, I guess. But you, girl. If you’re here digging gold, you’re doing a bang bad job of it.” “I don’t want your gold, Granny.” Adagio shrugged, staring off into the darkness. “Don’t care. You deserve it.” Granny refilled her glass. “You’re in the will now, so deal with it.” That weekend they visited Granny’s lawyer, signed a few forms, and that was that. Adagio was an Apple in the eyes of the federal government. It changed nothing, and everything changed. She taught Macintosh how to drive, Applejack to shave her legs, Apple Bloom how to pitch a ball (Adagio had learned a few tricks on that end after the first two kids). Both Mac and Applejack started spending free time away from the farm, running with different circles of friends. Apple Bloom began bringing over a duo, and the three got into more mischief than all the others combined. Eight years, going on nine. Plenty of time, no need to think about leaving. Applejack looked so scared, her face still the child’s face Adagio once sang to sleep, though now she stood tall as Adagio’s chin. She twisted her shirt like a dish towel, her freckles burned in shame and fear. “Auntie, Granny, I...” “We know you’re gay, finish your peas.” Granny nodded. “Yep.” Mac nodded. As did Apple Bloom, who was in a phase of mimicking his every move. “Eeyup.” Adagio took Applejack out for ice cream the next day, and imparted a few lessons in being a proper ‘gentleman’ to any dainty purple-haired ladies who happened to catch her eye. They went out again three months later. Some teen drama happened and Applejack burned her bridges with all her friends. Adagio could have handled this one better. “Friends come and go, AJ. But your brothers, your granny, and I will always be there for you.” Applejack remained inconsolable. Adagio sang her to sleep that night, though the magic had long left her voice. At the time, she thought she made the right move. For the next year, evenings Applejack used to spend with her friends were turned to the farm, growing her into the labor and business. Only after Applejack reconnected with her friends did a certain light return to her face, and Adagio grasped she had been wrong to steer the young woman away. It happened right when magic returned to the world – at least a silent, subtle wave of magic that any human would sense as a mere shift in weather. Nothing changed, except for the everything that was always changing. Mac studied how to take their business online, Apple Bloom broke an arm learning to skateboard, Applejack reclaimed and doubled her old friend group. Adagio worked all afternoon to cook for their parties in the barn, for which Applejack was always duly grateful. Her pink friend commented that Adagio looked like a high schooler herself. Adagio laughed it off as a compliment, then stared into the dark that night. This time, no one joined her on the porch. Granny now preferred an early bed to liquor and cards. Change, change, everything changed. Except Adagio. Someone had noticed, and someone would again and again until it was obvious to all. Then it would be her turn to change. Another city, another family. Not too soon, though, with luck. If she could keep the scam going until Apple Bloom was a grown woman, that would be good enough. At least, it would have to be. So her thoughts turned, padded by the gentle nighttime noise of crickets and birds. Then a new sound came. She gazed to the city though she could not see it through the trees. Memories rose up of prey in dark oceans and seedy bars. No human could hear it at this distance, nor did Adagio with her ears. She sensed it like a thrum under the water, yet a thrum marked with the predictable rules of music such that her instinct pulled her to sing along and add her own embellishment to the frugal chorus. Adagio did not sing. Yet she stared, for there was message in the music, this familiar song from familiar sirens. A song of dark hope, fueled by the fury it sparked in those humans close enough to hear. The source of its renewal was close. A font of power, and when it was theirs, they would hunt across this world with no wizards or heroes, and never go hungry again. And Adagio realized she was out of time, after all. Battle of the Band MomsNeither Applejack nor her friends – bless their hearts – were particularly intelligent in hiding their secret plans against the sirens. A few afternoons loitering outside the barn door taught Adagio all about Princess Twilight, the chaos the siren duo raised in their school, and the Rainbooms’ deeply misguided plan to write their own musical counter-spell. It was so foolish. Teenagers perhaps could be excused, but this Princess Twilight should know better than to challenge ancient virtuosos of music at their greatest strength. Adagio… did nothing, said nothing. They all thought she was a human, blissfully unaware of the peril about to be unleashed. What, was she to confess to being not only a monster, but one of the very sirens they steeled themselves to face? An end to the trust, the sustaining love. She would have to leave, far sooner than she hoped. Perhaps word would spread after her and the next family would be wary of such a convenient angel. She watched them head out for the Band Battle. Applejack grinned goofily when Adagio kissed her in front of her friends. Their cheer was palpable, their hearts full of righteous will and the supreme confidence of adolescence. It would, she mused, be fine. The victorious sirens would prey on cities, not a little farmhouse. And if Applejack was lost, the remaining three’s love would be more than enough to feed Adagio. The girl was was a spare, in the end. Superfluous. The thoughts didn’t stop Adagio from climbing into their car, nor did they slow her as she buckled in. She met her own eyes in the mirror. “So it was you who changed, after all.” To the cruel, ancient minds of Sonata Dusk and Aria Blaze, the spirited and incompetent resistance of their alleged enemies was just part of the hunt. No different in anything but setting to the dark seas they once called home. It was the chase, not the kill, which gave them sustenance. Prey would be hounded for days – mocked, injured, fed false hope only to replace it with terror and despair. They could have used the hypnotized faculty to eject the Rainbooms. But to sabotage then save them, to attract scorn and jealousy from the school such that the sirens themselves weren’t the ones to trap them beneath the stage? Delicious. Adagio could taste it all even from outside the venue. Anger, spite, envy, malice. It was an explosion of sensation, coming on all the harder for her diet of bland, filling love. An addict’s first hit after ten years clean. She did not pause, even now. It would be so easy to join in with the other sirens. To reclaim their powers and feast until the burning of the world. Instead she kicked down the door to the backstage closet. Applejack and the other once-trapped girls stared at her. “Auntie?” Applejack asked, then squinted and shook her head. “Wait, how come you ain’t off your rocker like everyone else?” Adagio hadn’t thought of an alibi. “Power of love, I don’t know. You kids get out of here while I go have a talk with those two. Auntie’s got this.” Twilight stood up at once, followed a hair behind by Sunset. “We can’t do that! This whole city is in danger!” “Miss Adagio, these guys are sirens. I know it sounds crazy but they’re trying to regain their magic so they can spread chaos across the world.” Adagio grit her teeth. “Pretty crazy, yeah. All the more reason you should leave it to me.” “Our music has magic power,” Applejack said, meeting her gaze with honest green eyes. “Please believe us on this. We can stop them, but there ain’t much time.” “Of course I believe you, but...” Adagio interrupted herself with a sharp breath, and a bit of her old manipulative skills returned. “You called them sirens, right? Matching music against a siren sounds like a losing plan. It’s the exact thing they’re incredible at.” That gave them all a second’s pause, broken by Sunset. “You have a better idea?” “Yeah, kind of.” Adagio bounced her finger between them as though counting. “You know what, we can do this together. There are eight of us and two of them. Sounds easy enough to me.” They didn’t seem to understand, so she punched her palm with a satisfying clap. “Oh, wow. Okay.” Rainbow grinned and nudged Applejack. “Dude, your aunt rocks.” Twilight kicked a little at the ground. “I don’t really like the idea of ending this with violence.” They were cutting it so damn close. Adagio growled. “How do you like the idea of ending this with losing?” “Fair point. Let’s go.” It seemed like a good idea at the time. The sirens were singers, not fighters. Sonata looked to her with confusion. “Adagio?” A few of the Rainbooms exchanged glances. A lie could be fed to them later. “Hi, girls.” Adagio reached into her purse and pulled out a purple high-heeled shoe Granny bought for her their first Christmas together. They charged. Eight against two. The sirens were overwhelmed in seconds. Then green light glowed from the duo’s gems. Magic cracked the air, and in a burst of existence a pair of ten-foot serpentine sea ponies appeared, blasting the Rainbooms back. An oversight. Long centuries had made Adagio used to them not being able to transform. Not without magic… and now they had it. The pair lunged, bowling over their human aggressors. What looked like a sure thing one way turned the opposite. Two huge predators among unarmed teenagers. Their last trump, and the Rainbooms had no answer. A blue tail toppled Adagio. Stars exploded in her vision. She staggered upright, seeing the disorganized girls trying to help each other retreat. But the sirens were faster, stronger. They bullied and herded the Rainbooms, could have killed half of them by now if they tried. But that wasn’t how sirens hunted. It would be long and messy. Still, so much prey was hard to handle. An early kill was wasteful, but would cause so much delicious terror in those who remained. All the better if it was the tallest and strongest of them. Sonata swung her tail at Fluttershy. Applejack ran right for it, taking the blow square on. The dazed girl sat up to find both looming tall above her, swaying like snakes ready to strike. Aria was the older one, and got first dibs. She lunged, with teeth as long as a human hand opened for the bite. Something scaled and yellow slammed her from the side. It all felt so natural, like Adagio had been a proper siren yesterday and not a thousand years ago. Her hooves gripped perfectly to twist and throw Aria onto her back. They hissed to each other. Sirens did not fight on even terms – they hunted the weak cruelly, or they fled. Aria snapped her teeth on instinct, seeking to injure or scare. Adagio brought both hooves down squarely on Aria’s head. The eyes rolled up and the purple form went limp. It was done in five seconds. Her gaze snapped to Sonata, who wore fear before it hardened into rage. Adagio was not the only one changed by this world – in the ocean, sirens would flee an equal fight. Today, the stakes were too high. Both lunged. Sonata slithered to her left and bit hard into Adagio’s neck. But their teeth weren’t built for each others’ thick scales. Adagio grunted with pain and a spurt of blood flew out. Nothing more. Then Adagio wrapped one leg around Sonata’s neck and punched her solidly in the face. The second was enough to knock her out, and the blue siren fell to the stage. The adrenaline faded, leaving Adagio able to think again. She hadn’t consciously meant to charge them, or even transform. Like her body had moved on its own. Her huge body. The Rainbooms looked so small, staring up to her with shock. Tall Applejack, who even at sixteen had grown an inch taller than Adagio, could not be seen save for the hat covering her head as she approached to arm’s reach. A soft hand rested on Adagio’s scaled tail. “Auntie.” The hat grew closer. Adagio’s vision lowered like she was on a Ferris Wheel. Her siren form vanished into the air, leaving her hand pressed to Applejack’s. The girl gave an unsteady smile. “Wow, your neck ain’t even red now.” “Wounds heal with the transformation.” Adagio threw out her curls, averting her gaze… ...For the last time. “But the miasma these two created will need to be dispelled by some good vibes before the school can snap out of it. Seems like a job for the Rainbooms.” “Of course,” Applejack said. “You’ll wait for us, right?” Adagio shrugged, still looking away. “Yeah.” “Promise me.” Another shrug. “Auntie.” A smile curled at the ends of Adagio’s lips. “You saw right through me, huh?” “I’ve know you for ten years,” Applejack said. “Reckon I can read you okay by now.” “Fine, fine.” Adagio pushed her gently away. Maybe it was just as well: a chance to come clean before the end. “I promise to stick around til after the show. I’ll tell you everything. You deserve it.” She lurked around the edges of the crowd as the Rainbooms performed. They weren’t siren-good, but they were… great, even. More than good enough to counter the sirens’ lingering magic. Maybe their little band battle would have worked, after all. They packed up their instruments while the rest of the school went home. Then they returned from behind the curtain to find Adagio seated on the stage, facing the now-empty stands. It was Twilight who spoke first. “Star Swirl’s writings said there were three sirens.” “That’s correct.” Adagio told them the story, all of it. The sirens’ defeat and exile to Earth, where they blamed each other and parted ways. The long time spent surviving in the underbelly of society, hunting from city to city. The crash. The cruel idea to slip into the Apple family and live off love instead of fear. To Adagio, that was the end of the story. Not to Applejack. “You’re still coming home tonight, right?” “No,” Adagio said, looking up. With the stage lights off, the stars could be seen. “It’s time for me to find a new family. Presuming your pony friend doesn’t force me back to Equestria.” She kept her eyes on the stars, only smiling as Twilight’s voice came from behind. “No need to glare, AJ! I’m not forcing her anywhere. We would have been doomed without her.” “I wonder,” Adagio breathed, then spoke up. “Are you taking the other two with you? No offense, but Equestria throwing its trash here caused this whole mess.” “Of course,” Twilight said. The other sirens were still unconscious, now tied up in the back. Booted feet stepped forwards, drawing Applejack’s voice nearer. “Fine, done. Now what’s this about getting a new family?” “If I’m going to keep living peacefully among humans, I’ll need love to sustain myself.” “Ain’t mine… no, wait a second.” Applejack hopped off the stage, then turned to stand directly in front of Adagio. No dodging the gaze now as the girl looked up to her with hurt and expectation. “Ain’t my love good enough?” Adagio gave her a wan smile. “I’m an ancient emotion-drinking monster, in case you weren’t paying attention.” Applejack’s green eyes grew shiny with unspent tears. “Monster my foot, you’re our guardian angel! Your sang me to sleep when I cried, brought in money, taught me how to handle my own dumb feelings...” “I told you,” Adagio said softly so her voice wouldn’t crack. “I just needed you.” “And we need you! You said you’d always be there for me. Don’t make yourself a liar.” “Little late for that,” Adagio mused. “But it’s not just a choice, sweetie. I need the love.” Applejack gave a snort and crossed her arms. “Don’t buy me? Fine. Proof is in the pudding. Taste me, or however you do it. See if the love’s dropped off any.” Adagio swallowed. Then trembled, for there was more love than ever, and the taste was the most wonderful thing she had ever known. Applejack saw the realization in her eyes. “See? I love you, just as you love me.” Adagio shot her gaze away. “I don’t… I mean, I don’t know what love is, really. I don’t want to lie. I don’t know if what I feel for you really is that.” “Heck, no one knows what love really is.” Applejack reached up her hand. Adagio accepted, then hopped from the stage into an embrace. “But I know what it looks like. It looks like a yellow siren sea monster charging in for the rescue, because that’s what it takes to save her family.” Adagio confessed the truth to the other Apples that very night. It became news, then old news. Most days it wasn’t worth bringing up with everything else going on. Harvests, business decisions, Christmases. Time passed so wonderfully, so terribly. She wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Graduations. Hospital visits. “What are you gonna do?” Granny asked, so slim and wrinkled in her hospital gown. “Appease an old woman’s curiosity. You gonna stay on as the Apple guardian angel for my grandkids’ grandkids and beyond, or you gonna pick a time and move on?” “I really don’t know,” Adagio confessed. “No shame. You’re young.” Granny coughed and laughed. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re saddled to the farm. Stay if you end up wanting to stay, go if you end up wanting to go, same if you ever want to come back. It’ll all be fine, girl. I love you, you know.” Adagio held her hand. “Yes, I do.” Granny was stuck in the wheelchair by the time the first of her grandchildren got married. It became Adagio’s duty to walk them down the aisle. “A crooked tie on your own wedding day.” Adagio plucked at Macintosh’s neck as they waited behind the last curtain. He giggled nervously under the attention. “Quit fussin’, Auntie.” “Hush, you. After today you’ll be Sugar Belle’s to fuss over, this is my last chance.” Adagio paused. Fifteen years, twenty? It was getting hard to keep track. She embraced him, rested her head below the tie. He was so tall now. “Mac, my big strong boy.” He wrapped his arms around her, just for a moment more. Then they walked down the aisle and the happy day went on. The other siblings got married in that same church, each in their own time. They stood behind the same curtain, obediently still as Adagio fixed their ties. “Why did you go with an ascot?” Adagio chided as she undid Applejack’s entirely. “You’ve never worn ascots.” “Rarity wanted it,” Applejack said with a goofy little smile that spoke of firm wedding-night plans with her beloved. “Always with the ascots,” Adagio grumbled to Apple Bloom three years later. “Pink ascot, pink hair bow.” Apple Bloom stuck out her tongue, grinning cheekily. “I think it looks right cute.” And then there were no more weddings. No crayon drawings on the refrigerator, no fresh cookies as they studied, no jam sessions in the barn. Gone, yes, but replaced. Then came vacations which they never had money for before. Meet-ups for holidays, football games, or no reason at all. Working together for harvests and floods. She was their auntie, and they loved her. They still did, even as Adagio stood one day before three gravestones. The Apple family had a whole lot to their own. Pacing the line would bring her from mother to grandmother to great, and back again. All buried so close to those they loved in an unbroken chain. She smiled to Pear Butter’s name, now resting with her husband on one side and mother-in-law on the other. No more guilt or fear. If Pear’s ghost appeared, they would be the best of friends. “Auntie?” Applejack approached her, tall and nearly as broad as her brother. A lifetime in the sun had turned her skin a dusky tone, and now cracks and grooves ran along her weathered face. Gray had entered her long blonde hair, yet still she spoke with that soft, deferential tone she used for no one else. “Being here got me thinking. I just want to ask: are you going to be okay?” Adagio raised one eyebrow with an indulgent smile, prompting Applejack to continue. “When I’m gone. When we’re gone. What will you do for love?” “Tell you a secret?” Adagio asked, her face alight with benign mischief. Applejack gave a grin of her own. “You got any left?” “Just one.” “Fire away.” Adagio turned away from her, to the newest grave next to Pear Butter’s. “I still feel her love,” Adagio whispered, then her voice grew strong. “It tastes like apple liquor and smells like old playing cards.” Applejack put a hand to her mouth as tears sprang to her eyes. The world grew glassy and Adagio wiped her own. “Even now she loves me, wherever she is. So yes, I will be okay. You won’t stop loving me when you die.” Adagio took hold of her niece’s weathered hand and gave it a squeeze. “Just as I won’t stop loving you.” Author's Note Thank you for reading.
Let's Try Something NewA thousand years on Earth was a long time. Too long for the defeated sirens to keep what little loyalty once bound them together. Adagio had wandered alone for many decades and did not feel lessened for it, starting petty fights to sup the emotion then disappearing to a new bar, city, or country. Like those bats who drink blood from unwitting cows, a silent parasite in an oblivious throng. It wasn’t a comfortable existence. Rage and bitterness sustained her health, but she couldn’t put them in her gas tank. Her primary source of funds was seducing dupes into privacy and robbing them at knife-point, with their betrayed anger only sweetening the deed. A long stint in Seattle had begun to draw attention, and so some hours ago she decided it was time to move on. A stolen car, a CD burned with the few human songs she enjoyed, and a long, rainy drive to Canterlot. Adagio heard the crash before she saw it, above the piano music and the cascade upon her windshield. The desperate, futile screech of brakes on wet pavement, the explosive scream as steel wrapped around steel and flesh. She didn’t intend to stop. It was none of her concern. But the semi truck had teetered and tipped, sprawling across both lanes and into the poor sedan coming the other way. The road was blocked, and Adagio didn’t trust her clunker in the muddy swamp to each side. Her initial plan to grumble and wait fell away when she heard the screams and felt them upon her tongue. The despair of children – unformed, immature. Nourishing, but like an under-ripe banana the taste left much to be desired. Something else was mixed in, though. Fear of a more intense, mature variety. It was enough to lure her from the car. Trapped this far from anywhere, there was no telling when her next meal might come. Adagio held up an expensive umbrella and approached calmly. Two human brats wailed in the back seat, with one corner of the semi occupying most of where the front used to be. Adagio peered in and flinched. Ageless monster she might be, but she was a dainty one and gore churned her stomach. She looked past what used to be a man to the woman next to him. A pretty thing, at least from the chest-up. The rest was gone, and it was clear she was not long for this world. Brilliant blue-green eyes watered, her mouth unable to bring in more than little gasps as the strength to do any more fell away. She beheld Adagio, eyes wide and crying. Adagio looked back to her with cool indifference. The woman’s voice was shrill, pressed out by the last effort of ruined lungs. “Please look after my children.” It wasn’t safe in there. Adagio brought the brats to her car, airily promising that their parents would be fine. The boy gave her a look that showed he did not believe her, but for some reason he followed her lead. Though crying himself, he busied himself comforting the smaller girl. Adagio eyed them in the mirror. Both had more freckles than face, certainly adorable to those who cared. Sirens appeared through the rainy dark. Just as well, someone had to clear the road for her. Hopefully they wouldn’t check her license – a plan was forming in her mind that didn’t involve any dead policemen. She turned in the seat, feigning a kindly smile to the children. The girl stared past her with mouth half-open, so she looked to the boy. “What are your names?” His throat worked, and his glassy eyes trembled. A desperately brave face that only barely held in the scream. “Macintosh ‘n Applejack.” “What about your parents? The police will be asking.” The questions actually seemed to help, giving him a bit of distraction. “Pear Butter and Bright Mac. Lady, I–” “Shush, dearie.” Adagio reached back and stroked a hand along his cheek. “I’ll need your address in case your parents aren’t able to drive you home.” The boy bristled. “I know that they’re–” “Shush, shush.” Adagio tilted her head to Applejack, and that did the trick. The boy fell quiet. Slim pink arms reached over to wrap around his sister. “Two Applewood Lane.” “Thanks, sweetie. I’ll talk to the police, you two wait right here.” Adagio passed back the little snacks she pilfered at the gas station, a bag of gummies and a canned tea. Then she left and approached the sirens, this time leaving the umbrella in the car. A little running of the makeup would add to the effect nicely. The cops didn’t even look at her license. To them she was just a bystander, and a useful one. With a wavering voice she confirmed the identity of the couple in the sedan. She was a family friend and would take the young children to their home. Yes, she knew the address. No, she didn’t know the truck driver and didn’t care that he was dead. Maybe the police would have been more thorough if it wasn’t raining so bad. She fed them a little line about the children being traumatized and they agreed to leave them alone. A truck arrived during the chatter and pulled the semi off the road. Adagio returned to her car to find Macintosh feeding his sister gummies, one at a time. She stared forward throughout it all, only chewing when he told her to. “I’ll be taking you home,” Adagio said. Neither answered. The police gave her an escort. Maybe they weren’t as trusting as they seemed, but it was just as well. She loitered outside as they broke the news to the old granny with the baby in her arms. The wails carried to Adagio outside as she silently waited her turn. The grief was sharp and tangy on her tongue. A rare treat, much harder to engineer than other emotions. Even the grief of funerals was nine-tenths expended, but here here and now… well, the detour was already worth it. She brought in the kids – that was important, for the granny to see her bringing them in. The woman didn’t question her presence, embracing the children as they cried in each others’ arms while the police awkwardly stood in wait. Adagio slipped her introduction into that vulnerable moment – “A friend of Pear Butter, but don’t worry about me right now.” – and set herself to work. Fixing a snack for the kids and helping their tear-stained faces through the necks of pajamas. Diaper changes for the baby she caught was named Apple Bloom. By the time the police were gone and children were in bed, Adagio had thoroughly ingratiated herself to the woman, now formally introduced as Granny Smith. The old matriarch had recovered enough to be curious, but without suspicion of the stranger helping so willingly in her hour of need. Adagio fed the baby formula as she fed the woman lies. She was an old friend of Pear Butter, though alas not a close one. Pear was her rock, her calm voice at the end of the phone when Adagio’s life was falling apart. Adagio had finally hit rock bottom, and Pear invited her to stay at the house. She was on her way when she saw the accident. “This isn’t a coincidence,” Adagio said urgently. Humans loved to believe things weren’t coincidence. “I can help, Miss Smith. The kids, the farm, whatever you need me to. It’s all I can do for her now.” More tears. A warm embrace. Adagio’s cool gaze looked out past the hug, taking in the living room of her new home. A soft, lived-in kind of place, with furniture worn enough to be comfy and hand-sewn decorations. It would do nicely. A sound came from above their heads. The wailing of children. “I’d hoped they were tired enough to sleep.” Granny sighed and turned to the stairs. Adagio followed. “Let me help.” Granny was tired, herself. “Alright. You take Applejack, I’ll take Little Mac.” Adagio pressed open the door she pointed to. A clean little room, with toys returned neatly to a wooden box. Applejack pressed herself to the pillow, shaking and crying. Her six year-old brain was finally digesting the reality of what had happened. Adagio sat on her bed. With one hand, she began stroking the girl’s back. And she began to sing. The language was that of the sirens. Even with her magic waned low after a long thousand years, the words themselves had power. Bars and parks across the world had heard them whispered to the air, picking at the rough edges of hearts to spark brawls and break-ups. But these were different words. They balmed and soothed, filling the soul with contentment instead of anger. In the past Adagio used them to dodge trouble or access clubs; here, the light hypnosis calmed the young girl’s heart, and those of the two in the neighboring room. It did not erase the grieving love, but warmed and comforted it. The crying stopped, the sobs became still. Adagio watched Applejack’s sleeping face a moment longer. Adorable, even with her eyes red and puffy. Really, they were all cute in their own way, even the baby. Strictly optional, but it would make the coming years pass more pleasantly. She slipped downstairs. The granny had fallen asleep to her song, laying in bed with Macintosh. Adagio could explore the house for a guest room later. The couch would do well enough for tonight. Actually, it was wonderfully comfortable. Far more so than the cheap hotels she usually flopped down in. She stared at the ceiling, willing herself to stay awake long enough to review the day in her head. Then, finding it to have gone perfectly, she smiled. One day, some biologist might learn sirens and changelings held a common ancestor, though their evolutions took vastly different turns. Changelings adapted to life on the crowded land by becoming parasites for affection, while the unforgiving ocean turned sirens into predators who drank on fear, despair, and hate. Love was strange to the siren palate, and not in a good way. While changelings tasted negative emotions as uncomfortably sour, love to sirens was like reheated mashed potatoes and plain chicken. Yet negative emotions are short-lived, despite themselves. Even the deepest hate fades over time to a thing thought rather than felt. This transient nature mattered little in the darkness beneath the waves where all was transient, nor when the empowered sirens simply raised havoc wherever they pleased. Those days were gone. Feeding now took preparation and care. Adagio was tired of acrid, smokey bars and restaurants where even the anger tasted like grease. Crappy motels that devoured most of her income and left her pathetically going to hospitals to remove bedbugs. The endless cycle of resentment growing in city underbellies towards the woman who always seemed to start fights, leaving Adagio silently judging when would be safest to skip town, starving for a few days to set up somewhere new. She was ready for something more reliable, more comfortable. Love wasn’t tasty, but it was consistent. These dupes would sustain her for decades if she played her cards right, and so far she’d been perfect. So Adagio woke up first, beating the family’s farmer instincts to rouse them with smells of eggs and frying meat. The first little tastes of their budding love went down fine with her bacon. She listened softly as the family reminisced, distracted the children as Granny began calling family to spread word of the terrible news. It didn’t take long for Applejack to drop Adagio’s new nickname which the others quickly took up. More than a nickname – a symbol, a confirmation of her place in the family. She was theirs, now, or so they thought. They were hers. “Auntie Adagio.” Author's Note Just a lil' thing that came to mind while chatting with PaulAsaran about possible AUs where the sirens encounter Rainbooms at a much younger age. Gonna be about three chapters total.
The Passing of LeavesAdagio was a godsend in the difficult weeks that followed. Diapers, bedtimes, cooking. Mostly she minded the children while Granny Smith plugged gaps in the farm and business. Plenty for the old woman to do regardless, and Adagio wasted no time in learning the simpler tasks to help ease her load. The siren dribbled information for the old matriarch, continuing to play her hand well. She had no home or family of her own to go back to. It was strange, yes, but Adagio didn’t and wouldn’t want her name on any wills or bank accounts. Nor did she want payment for business errands or anything like that. Food and the guest room was enough, along with the chance to repay the invented kindness Pear Butter once showed her. The funeral was perfunctory, but they always were. Distant relatives arriving out of obligation, their annoyance salty on Adagio’s tongue. She heard a few whisper warnings to Granny against the convenient stranger, but seeds of trust had already sprouted. Adagio watched the children at home while Granny attended to the burial. The shock had worn off by then – they toured her around the orchard, proudly showing off short cuts, bird nests, and chores she soon would be helping with. They sat down for lunch in a particularly pleasant clearing and she sang to them with the baby in her arms. No magic this time, that was saved for sad evenings and scary nights. A few weeks later, Granny deemed them ready to visit the grave. It was more serious than sad, with the dry-eyed children stepping up to speak as though their parents could hear. ...And perhaps they could. During their long journeys through Equestria the sirens had seen ghosts and visions of afterlifes both heavenly and otherwise. Adagio did not doubt such things existed on Earth. ‘A stolen life.’ She rallied. ‘Not stolen. I did not take this from them.’ It became Adagio’s turn to stand before the tombstone, and a thrill of silent fear went through her heart. ‘Please look after my children.’ An out, an excuse. An offering for any vengeful ghosts who might be watching. “I’m doing what you asked,” Adagio said. Granny was escorting the kids to the car, perhaps to give her privacy. “They need me, and I’m here. There’s nothing wrong with me getting something out of it, is there?” The stone offered no reply. Not even a breeze or cloud gave any sort of omen as she turned back to the others. It didn’t take long for the early buds of love to blossom fully, for Adagio made herself easy to love. Eager to learn, eager to help. Happy to sing at the children’s request so long as they ate their peas, happy to hold Apple Bloom all night during her fits of colic. The cynicism of running a business came entirely naturally to her, letting her take more and more of the load to let Granny focus on the farm. The preference was only noted with amusement by Granny, who didn’t let her dodge quite all of the farm work. Nor was it all sappy feelings with the family. One day while Granny was driving a delivery, Adagio found herself called in to Applejack’s school, thence to summon Applejack to the dining room. “Reading lesson, squirt,” Adagio set a letter down in front of her. “Out loud. I’ll help you with any of the hard words.” A demerit for picking on another kid. Specifically, shoving a worm in another girl’s face three times. Applejack’s constellation of freckles twisted into a scowl. “That’s Rarity. I hate her.” “You’re being a bully,” Adagio said. That proved a magic word. Good lessons from her family (most of all her kindly elder brother) had instilled Applejack with a marvelous aversion to becoming a bully. She howled for forgiveness, breaking down so badly Adagio turned to magic song to calm her down. It all resolved well enough from there. Macintosh was happy for Applejack to do all his chores that evening, and a call to Rarity’s parents showed the girl cried over every little thing and they were more interested in gossiping with Adagio than holding a grudge. Applejack got it in her head the same night to be extra nice to Rarity the next day. Adagio helped her write an apology letter that went to school with a fistful of picked dandelions. She returned home with a blue ribbon tied into a bracelet around her wrist. “Rarity gave this to me. I like her.” Rarity proved the first friend little Applejack brought over, though they quickly learned to stick to indoor activities on muddy days. Mac’s friends proved an unruly mob, wolfing down the food Adagio served (albeit with many polite ‘thank yous’) thence to run off for boyish games of running and yelling. Applejack tended to play with one friend at a time, likely owing to their differences. With Rarity, it was odd games of Action Jacks married to Bobbie dolls. Rainbow, racing and swimming. Sweet Fluttershy, playing with the chickens. Adagio mused on her adopted family one day, holding Apple Bloom up high to look down on her. “Mac’s a boy, and Applejack is… basically a boy. No one but you to pass on my feminine siren wiles to, but that’s alright. You’ll grow up to be a girly girl who’ll go perfume shopping with her auntie, won’t you?” Apple Bloom beamed down at her. “Gra’na.” She called everyone ‘Gra’na,’ much to Granny Smith’s delight. Adagio would go on to lose second place to ‘Mackee.’ ‘Ajee’ was Apple Bloom’s third word, ending that little race in a draw between her and Applejack as they couldn’t tell who the baby meant. And then she had ten words, twenty, fifty. Macintosh joined a little league. Applejack began writing in cursive, and when the teacher saw what she wrote about Rarity they sent another letter home. “I hate her,” Applejack groused. Two weeks later, Adagio walked in to find her making a Christmas card for the girl. “Rarity let me try her lipstick,” Applejack explained. “I like her.” December didn’t look too merry at first. There was no getting around that the farm lost its two most productive workers. Granny Smith had braced the kids for a quiet Christmas. Instead, Adagio sold her car and made it a loud one. A good baseball bat and cleats for Macintosh, an army of Action Jack figures for the little tomboy, a DVD player and full Golden Girls collection for Granny. Apple Bloom’s cut was saved for when she could form an opinion. Adagio, to her full surprise, got a pair of name-brand pumps courtesy of Granny’s own secret funds. Somehow she had noticed that Adagio missed the finer things in life, just a bit. Nothing she ever spoke out loud. Just sighing looks as they passed fashion stores on the way to secondhand shops, and models on magazines at the pharmacy. Adagio… didn’t quite know what to make of it. She fiddled with the shoes, running her hands along their shiny purple spikes, long into the night of Christmas Day. It felt uncomfortable, somehow, trying to ponder how she felt. So she stopped, and went to bed. The cash flow had stabilized by next Christmas. A heady, fun day of apple liquor with Granny and watching the children run around like maniacs. Sappy as it would be to admit, even the love tasted spicy and warm that day. Yet that was not singularly unique anymore. A year of living off love had taught Adagio to sense its subtitles. Not tasteless at all, but hearty and filling. Like how a human addicted to processed sweets would think a well-made cake bland until they take the time to slow down and enjoy it. Love could be peppered by hard work, marinated by play, sweetened by time spent in relaxed affection, made just a bit vinegary when there were scoldings or fights. Adagio became such an expert that she could sense when there were hard days at school, or guilty secrets being kept. These would lead to questions and answers, leaving the humans to marvel at how sharp their auntie was. The next Christmas came. Then the next, the next… Adagio’s hopes for Apple Bloom to be a girly ally were dashed as soon as she could walk. Applejack had mimicked and inherited Mac’s affection for younger siblings, and the two happily took her out on adventures through the orchard during the day, then to war with their Action Jacks before bed. Apple Bloom took pride in her red hair, though, which at least gave Adagio something to work with. The pink hair bows she gave one birthday proved the biggest gift-win of her life. Long hours in the office, broken up by Granny Smith reminding Adagio to eat. T-ball games for the growing Apple Bloom. Junior track meets for Applejack, watched by the young, prissy Rarity sitting in the bleachers. Poor Mac’s first breakup. Adagio took him out for ice cream, and sang to him on the way home. Her powers were weaker than ever. Some days she didn’t even feel any magic in the words, yet it calmed the others all the same. Strange. Songs to Applejack after a bad fight with Rarity. Songs to Granny in the hospital, recovering from her hip replacement. “I’m getting old,” Granny grumbled. “Aren’t we all?” Adagio laughed. Granny gave her a curious look at that, for among them all Adagio had been unchanged. Granny’s steel-gray hair was turning slowly to white, the children were growing as children do. But Adagio had only been with them for five years (five years?), and the lack of change was not yet worth commenting on. Give it ten, fifty, a hundred, and there would be no denying it. Strange, though. The five years passed by so… slowly. The rest of Adagio’s immortal life was a blur, yet she could still feel the infant Apple Bloom in her arms. She could recall so clearly the myriad little games they played in the orchard, the long evenings of drinking and penny-poker with Granny Smith. Ten, fifty years. What then? Adagio supposed the gig would be up. She would have to Disappear. Move on to another family for ten or fifty years. The experiment was a success. No more need for bedbug hotels and greasy bars. A new way to live. So why did she hate to think of it? A few weeks later, Granny made her a chocolate cake and Macintosh swept the house without being asked. Applejack made apple chicken saute, a dish Adagio loved because Applejack poured her own love into it (made a little spicier today, because she was thinking about Rarity). Apple Bloom drew a picture of all five of them together. They had noticed Adagio was feeling down. No siren-sense required. “Anything you want to get off your chest?” Granny asked after the kids went to bed. They sat out on the porch, sipping apple liquor. Adagio opened her mouth and half a truth tumbled out. “I wish this could last forever.” “Nothing does,” Granny replied. “Not even you, young miss.” Adagio looked sharply at her. Did she know… no, she couldn’t. Granny settled down on her rocker. “You won’t be young forever. I won’t be old forever. Hopefully by the time you’re my age, one of the kids will be ready to take over and you can retire properly.” “Do you wish you could retire?” “I wish my son was still alive.” Granny shrugged off the old wound. “But if wishes were fishes and yadda yadda. The work is keeping me young, honestly. If I had nothing to do I’d sit in this rocker til Judgment Day. I’m just glad you’re around to chase these kids.” “They’re a delight,” Adagio said. Another truth. She shivered. “I wish they would stay small.” Then she wouldn’t have to go. “No luck there,” Granny chuckled. “They’re Apples. They’re gonna be tall as trees before they’re twenty.” Her face changed, wincing with tightly closed eyes before giving a wan smile. “Hell, twenty… I might make it there for Mac, not so much Apple Bloom. It’ll probably be on you to walk ‘em down the aisle when the wedding bells ring.” A knife twisted in Adagio’s gut. She laughed. “Don’t say that. You’ll outlive all of us.” “No chance. I’m next. I better be, after I had to...” Granny paused, shook her head, smiled stubbornly. “I’m just glad we got you, girl, in case they’re still growing when I go. You were an angel back when things were rough. You still are.” An angel, a guardian angel. It was more than irony that tugged up Adagio’s lips into an honest grin. “Of course I’ll stay. As long as I can.” She hadn’t meant to let the last part slip out. “Got somewhere to go?” Granny asked. Adagio dodged. “We all do, in the end.” “Reckon so.” Granny let the rest slide. They sat in silence a little longer, listening to the nighttime sounds of their orchard come alive. “By the way,” Granny said with a twisty little grin. “You’re young and all so I doubt this is a problem. You’re okay with Applejack being gay as a gaybird, right?” “Was worried you weren’t.” “Heck, us Apples don’t have time for nonsense.” Granny downed her drink and scowled. “They tried to warn me off’a you back then, at the funeral. But look at them, not one other Apple has visited since then save ones as old as me. Way of the world now, I guess. But you, girl. If you’re here digging gold, you’re doing a bang bad job of it.” “I don’t want your gold, Granny.” Adagio shrugged, staring off into the darkness. “Don’t care. You deserve it.” Granny refilled her glass. “You’re in the will now, so deal with it.” That weekend they visited Granny’s lawyer, signed a few forms, and that was that. Adagio was an Apple in the eyes of the federal government. It changed nothing, and everything changed. She taught Macintosh how to drive, Applejack to shave her legs, Apple Bloom how to pitch a ball (Adagio had learned a few tricks on that end after the first two kids). Both Mac and Applejack started spending free time away from the farm, running with different circles of friends. Apple Bloom began bringing over a duo, and the three got into more mischief than all the others combined. Eight years, going on nine. Plenty of time, no need to think about leaving. Applejack looked so scared, her face still the child’s face Adagio once sang to sleep, though now she stood tall as Adagio’s chin. She twisted her shirt like a dish towel, her freckles burned in shame and fear. “Auntie, Granny, I...” “We know you’re gay, finish your peas.” Granny nodded. “Yep.” Mac nodded. As did Apple Bloom, who was in a phase of mimicking his every move. “Eeyup.” Adagio took Applejack out for ice cream the next day, and imparted a few lessons in being a proper ‘gentleman’ to any dainty purple-haired ladies who happened to catch her eye. They went out again three months later. Some teen drama happened and Applejack burned her bridges with all her friends. Adagio could have handled this one better. “Friends come and go, AJ. But your brothers, your granny, and I will always be there for you.” Applejack remained inconsolable. Adagio sang her to sleep that night, though the magic had long left her voice. At the time, she thought she made the right move. For the next year, evenings Applejack used to spend with her friends were turned to the farm, growing her into the labor and business. Only after Applejack reconnected with her friends did a certain light return to her face, and Adagio grasped she had been wrong to steer the young woman away. It happened right when magic returned to the world – at least a silent, subtle wave of magic that any human would sense as a mere shift in weather. Nothing changed, except for the everything that was always changing. Mac studied how to take their business online, Apple Bloom broke an arm learning to skateboard, Applejack reclaimed and doubled her old friend group. Adagio worked all afternoon to cook for their parties in the barn, for which Applejack was always duly grateful. Her pink friend commented that Adagio looked like a high schooler herself. Adagio laughed it off as a compliment, then stared into the dark that night. This time, no one joined her on the porch. Granny now preferred an early bed to liquor and cards. Change, change, everything changed. Except Adagio. Someone had noticed, and someone would again and again until it was obvious to all. Then it would be her turn to change. Another city, another family. Not too soon, though, with luck. If she could keep the scam going until Apple Bloom was a grown woman, that would be good enough. At least, it would have to be. So her thoughts turned, padded by the gentle nighttime noise of crickets and birds. Then a new sound came. She gazed to the city though she could not see it through the trees. Memories rose up of prey in dark oceans and seedy bars. No human could hear it at this distance, nor did Adagio with her ears. She sensed it like a thrum under the water, yet a thrum marked with the predictable rules of music such that her instinct pulled her to sing along and add her own embellishment to the frugal chorus. Adagio did not sing. Yet she stared, for there was message in the music, this familiar song from familiar sirens. A song of dark hope, fueled by the fury it sparked in those humans close enough to hear. The source of its renewal was close. A font of power, and when it was theirs, they would hunt across this world with no wizards or heroes, and never go hungry again. And Adagio realized she was out of time, after all.
Battle of the Band MomsNeither Applejack nor her friends – bless their hearts – were particularly intelligent in hiding their secret plans against the sirens. A few afternoons loitering outside the barn door taught Adagio all about Princess Twilight, the chaos the siren duo raised in their school, and the Rainbooms’ deeply misguided plan to write their own musical counter-spell. It was so foolish. Teenagers perhaps could be excused, but this Princess Twilight should know better than to challenge ancient virtuosos of music at their greatest strength. Adagio… did nothing, said nothing. They all thought she was a human, blissfully unaware of the peril about to be unleashed. What, was she to confess to being not only a monster, but one of the very sirens they steeled themselves to face? An end to the trust, the sustaining love. She would have to leave, far sooner than she hoped. Perhaps word would spread after her and the next family would be wary of such a convenient angel. She watched them head out for the Band Battle. Applejack grinned goofily when Adagio kissed her in front of her friends. Their cheer was palpable, their hearts full of righteous will and the supreme confidence of adolescence. It would, she mused, be fine. The victorious sirens would prey on cities, not a little farmhouse. And if Applejack was lost, the remaining three’s love would be more than enough to feed Adagio. The girl was was a spare, in the end. Superfluous. The thoughts didn’t stop Adagio from climbing into their car, nor did they slow her as she buckled in. She met her own eyes in the mirror. “So it was you who changed, after all.” To the cruel, ancient minds of Sonata Dusk and Aria Blaze, the spirited and incompetent resistance of their alleged enemies was just part of the hunt. No different in anything but setting to the dark seas they once called home. It was the chase, not the kill, which gave them sustenance. Prey would be hounded for days – mocked, injured, fed false hope only to replace it with terror and despair. They could have used the hypnotized faculty to eject the Rainbooms. But to sabotage then save them, to attract scorn and jealousy from the school such that the sirens themselves weren’t the ones to trap them beneath the stage? Delicious. Adagio could taste it all even from outside the venue. Anger, spite, envy, malice. It was an explosion of sensation, coming on all the harder for her diet of bland, filling love. An addict’s first hit after ten years clean. She did not pause, even now. It would be so easy to join in with the other sirens. To reclaim their powers and feast until the burning of the world. Instead she kicked down the door to the backstage closet. Applejack and the other once-trapped girls stared at her. “Auntie?” Applejack asked, then squinted and shook her head. “Wait, how come you ain’t off your rocker like everyone else?” Adagio hadn’t thought of an alibi. “Power of love, I don’t know. You kids get out of here while I go have a talk with those two. Auntie’s got this.” Twilight stood up at once, followed a hair behind by Sunset. “We can’t do that! This whole city is in danger!” “Miss Adagio, these guys are sirens. I know it sounds crazy but they’re trying to regain their magic so they can spread chaos across the world.” Adagio grit her teeth. “Pretty crazy, yeah. All the more reason you should leave it to me.” “Our music has magic power,” Applejack said, meeting her gaze with honest green eyes. “Please believe us on this. We can stop them, but there ain’t much time.” “Of course I believe you, but...” Adagio interrupted herself with a sharp breath, and a bit of her old manipulative skills returned. “You called them sirens, right? Matching music against a siren sounds like a losing plan. It’s the exact thing they’re incredible at.” That gave them all a second’s pause, broken by Sunset. “You have a better idea?” “Yeah, kind of.” Adagio bounced her finger between them as though counting. “You know what, we can do this together. There are eight of us and two of them. Sounds easy enough to me.” They didn’t seem to understand, so she punched her palm with a satisfying clap. “Oh, wow. Okay.” Rainbow grinned and nudged Applejack. “Dude, your aunt rocks.” Twilight kicked a little at the ground. “I don’t really like the idea of ending this with violence.” They were cutting it so damn close. Adagio growled. “How do you like the idea of ending this with losing?” “Fair point. Let’s go.” It seemed like a good idea at the time. The sirens were singers, not fighters. Sonata looked to her with confusion. “Adagio?” A few of the Rainbooms exchanged glances. A lie could be fed to them later. “Hi, girls.” Adagio reached into her purse and pulled out a purple high-heeled shoe Granny bought for her their first Christmas together. They charged. Eight against two. The sirens were overwhelmed in seconds. Then green light glowed from the duo’s gems. Magic cracked the air, and in a burst of existence a pair of ten-foot serpentine sea ponies appeared, blasting the Rainbooms back. An oversight. Long centuries had made Adagio used to them not being able to transform. Not without magic… and now they had it. The pair lunged, bowling over their human aggressors. What looked like a sure thing one way turned the opposite. Two huge predators among unarmed teenagers. Their last trump, and the Rainbooms had no answer. A blue tail toppled Adagio. Stars exploded in her vision. She staggered upright, seeing the disorganized girls trying to help each other retreat. But the sirens were faster, stronger. They bullied and herded the Rainbooms, could have killed half of them by now if they tried. But that wasn’t how sirens hunted. It would be long and messy. Still, so much prey was hard to handle. An early kill was wasteful, but would cause so much delicious terror in those who remained. All the better if it was the tallest and strongest of them. Sonata swung her tail at Fluttershy. Applejack ran right for it, taking the blow square on. The dazed girl sat up to find both looming tall above her, swaying like snakes ready to strike. Aria was the older one, and got first dibs. She lunged, with teeth as long as a human hand opened for the bite. Something scaled and yellow slammed her from the side. It all felt so natural, like Adagio had been a proper siren yesterday and not a thousand years ago. Her hooves gripped perfectly to twist and throw Aria onto her back. They hissed to each other. Sirens did not fight on even terms – they hunted the weak cruelly, or they fled. Aria snapped her teeth on instinct, seeking to injure or scare. Adagio brought both hooves down squarely on Aria’s head. The eyes rolled up and the purple form went limp. It was done in five seconds. Her gaze snapped to Sonata, who wore fear before it hardened into rage. Adagio was not the only one changed by this world – in the ocean, sirens would flee an equal fight. Today, the stakes were too high. Both lunged. Sonata slithered to her left and bit hard into Adagio’s neck. But their teeth weren’t built for each others’ thick scales. Adagio grunted with pain and a spurt of blood flew out. Nothing more. Then Adagio wrapped one leg around Sonata’s neck and punched her solidly in the face. The second was enough to knock her out, and the blue siren fell to the stage. The adrenaline faded, leaving Adagio able to think again. She hadn’t consciously meant to charge them, or even transform. Like her body had moved on its own. Her huge body. The Rainbooms looked so small, staring up to her with shock. Tall Applejack, who even at sixteen had grown an inch taller than Adagio, could not be seen save for the hat covering her head as she approached to arm’s reach. A soft hand rested on Adagio’s scaled tail. “Auntie.” The hat grew closer. Adagio’s vision lowered like she was on a Ferris Wheel. Her siren form vanished into the air, leaving her hand pressed to Applejack’s. The girl gave an unsteady smile. “Wow, your neck ain’t even red now.” “Wounds heal with the transformation.” Adagio threw out her curls, averting her gaze… ...For the last time. “But the miasma these two created will need to be dispelled by some good vibes before the school can snap out of it. Seems like a job for the Rainbooms.” “Of course,” Applejack said. “You’ll wait for us, right?” Adagio shrugged, still looking away. “Yeah.” “Promise me.” Another shrug. “Auntie.” A smile curled at the ends of Adagio’s lips. “You saw right through me, huh?” “I’ve know you for ten years,” Applejack said. “Reckon I can read you okay by now.” “Fine, fine.” Adagio pushed her gently away. Maybe it was just as well: a chance to come clean before the end. “I promise to stick around til after the show. I’ll tell you everything. You deserve it.” She lurked around the edges of the crowd as the Rainbooms performed. They weren’t siren-good, but they were… great, even. More than good enough to counter the sirens’ lingering magic. Maybe their little band battle would have worked, after all. They packed up their instruments while the rest of the school went home. Then they returned from behind the curtain to find Adagio seated on the stage, facing the now-empty stands. It was Twilight who spoke first. “Star Swirl’s writings said there were three sirens.” “That’s correct.” Adagio told them the story, all of it. The sirens’ defeat and exile to Earth, where they blamed each other and parted ways. The long time spent surviving in the underbelly of society, hunting from city to city. The crash. The cruel idea to slip into the Apple family and live off love instead of fear. To Adagio, that was the end of the story. Not to Applejack. “You’re still coming home tonight, right?” “No,” Adagio said, looking up. With the stage lights off, the stars could be seen. “It’s time for me to find a new family. Presuming your pony friend doesn’t force me back to Equestria.” She kept her eyes on the stars, only smiling as Twilight’s voice came from behind. “No need to glare, AJ! I’m not forcing her anywhere. We would have been doomed without her.” “I wonder,” Adagio breathed, then spoke up. “Are you taking the other two with you? No offense, but Equestria throwing its trash here caused this whole mess.” “Of course,” Twilight said. The other sirens were still unconscious, now tied up in the back. Booted feet stepped forwards, drawing Applejack’s voice nearer. “Fine, done. Now what’s this about getting a new family?” “If I’m going to keep living peacefully among humans, I’ll need love to sustain myself.” “Ain’t mine… no, wait a second.” Applejack hopped off the stage, then turned to stand directly in front of Adagio. No dodging the gaze now as the girl looked up to her with hurt and expectation. “Ain’t my love good enough?” Adagio gave her a wan smile. “I’m an ancient emotion-drinking monster, in case you weren’t paying attention.” Applejack’s green eyes grew shiny with unspent tears. “Monster my foot, you’re our guardian angel! Your sang me to sleep when I cried, brought in money, taught me how to handle my own dumb feelings...” “I told you,” Adagio said softly so her voice wouldn’t crack. “I just needed you.” “And we need you! You said you’d always be there for me. Don’t make yourself a liar.” “Little late for that,” Adagio mused. “But it’s not just a choice, sweetie. I need the love.” Applejack gave a snort and crossed her arms. “Don’t buy me? Fine. Proof is in the pudding. Taste me, or however you do it. See if the love’s dropped off any.” Adagio swallowed. Then trembled, for there was more love than ever, and the taste was the most wonderful thing she had ever known. Applejack saw the realization in her eyes. “See? I love you, just as you love me.” Adagio shot her gaze away. “I don’t… I mean, I don’t know what love is, really. I don’t want to lie. I don’t know if what I feel for you really is that.” “Heck, no one knows what love really is.” Applejack reached up her hand. Adagio accepted, then hopped from the stage into an embrace. “But I know what it looks like. It looks like a yellow siren sea monster charging in for the rescue, because that’s what it takes to save her family.” Adagio confessed the truth to the other Apples that very night. It became news, then old news. Most days it wasn’t worth bringing up with everything else going on. Harvests, business decisions, Christmases. Time passed so wonderfully, so terribly. She wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Graduations. Hospital visits. “What are you gonna do?” Granny asked, so slim and wrinkled in her hospital gown. “Appease an old woman’s curiosity. You gonna stay on as the Apple guardian angel for my grandkids’ grandkids and beyond, or you gonna pick a time and move on?” “I really don’t know,” Adagio confessed. “No shame. You’re young.” Granny coughed and laughed. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re saddled to the farm. Stay if you end up wanting to stay, go if you end up wanting to go, same if you ever want to come back. It’ll all be fine, girl. I love you, you know.” Adagio held her hand. “Yes, I do.” Granny was stuck in the wheelchair by the time the first of her grandchildren got married. It became Adagio’s duty to walk them down the aisle. “A crooked tie on your own wedding day.” Adagio plucked at Macintosh’s neck as they waited behind the last curtain. He giggled nervously under the attention. “Quit fussin’, Auntie.” “Hush, you. After today you’ll be Sugar Belle’s to fuss over, this is my last chance.” Adagio paused. Fifteen years, twenty? It was getting hard to keep track. She embraced him, rested her head below the tie. He was so tall now. “Mac, my big strong boy.” He wrapped his arms around her, just for a moment more. Then they walked down the aisle and the happy day went on. The other siblings got married in that same church, each in their own time. They stood behind the same curtain, obediently still as Adagio fixed their ties. “Why did you go with an ascot?” Adagio chided as she undid Applejack’s entirely. “You’ve never worn ascots.” “Rarity wanted it,” Applejack said with a goofy little smile that spoke of firm wedding-night plans with her beloved. “Always with the ascots,” Adagio grumbled to Apple Bloom three years later. “Pink ascot, pink hair bow.” Apple Bloom stuck out her tongue, grinning cheekily. “I think it looks right cute.” And then there were no more weddings. No crayon drawings on the refrigerator, no fresh cookies as they studied, no jam sessions in the barn. Gone, yes, but replaced. Then came vacations which they never had money for before. Meet-ups for holidays, football games, or no reason at all. Working together for harvests and floods. She was their auntie, and they loved her. They still did, even as Adagio stood one day before three gravestones. The Apple family had a whole lot to their own. Pacing the line would bring her from mother to grandmother to great, and back again. All buried so close to those they loved in an unbroken chain. She smiled to Pear Butter’s name, now resting with her husband on one side and mother-in-law on the other. No more guilt or fear. If Pear’s ghost appeared, they would be the best of friends. “Auntie?” Applejack approached her, tall and nearly as broad as her brother. A lifetime in the sun had turned her skin a dusky tone, and now cracks and grooves ran along her weathered face. Gray had entered her long blonde hair, yet still she spoke with that soft, deferential tone she used for no one else. “Being here got me thinking. I just want to ask: are you going to be okay?” Adagio raised one eyebrow with an indulgent smile, prompting Applejack to continue. “When I’m gone. When we’re gone. What will you do for love?” “Tell you a secret?” Adagio asked, her face alight with benign mischief. Applejack gave a grin of her own. “You got any left?” “Just one.” “Fire away.” Adagio turned away from her, to the newest grave next to Pear Butter’s. “I still feel her love,” Adagio whispered, then her voice grew strong. “It tastes like apple liquor and smells like old playing cards.” Applejack put a hand to her mouth as tears sprang to her eyes. The world grew glassy and Adagio wiped her own. “Even now she loves me, wherever she is. So yes, I will be okay. You won’t stop loving me when you die.” Adagio took hold of her niece’s weathered hand and gave it a squeeze. “Just as I won’t stop loving you.” Author's Note Thank you for reading.
