It was a promising start to a fresh fall morning. The night’s brisk chill was washed away in the warm light of Celestia’s sun spilling out over top of acres upon acres of apple trees. The growing season had been kind, and the branches slouched under their burden, great shimmering lumps of ruby, topaz, and emerald. A gentle breeze carried more of the sun’s gift of warmth from its eastern home. The sky was clear and blue, not a cloud in sight– a favor from Rainbow Dash. If it was going to be a long hard day, it might as well be a gorgeous one, too.
It was officially harvest season, a fact apparent to anypony with eyes to see the bountiful fields that formed Sweet Apple Acres. It was harvest season, and Applejack knew she was in for a tough one. Things had changed a lot around the farm these past few years.
Mac had gone off and gotten himself married, and while he helped on the farm where he could, he was increasingly responsible for the business end of it all. Sugar Belle’s sweet-talking resonated with Big Mac’s stoic certainty, somehow producing a fearsome sales duo. This was nothing to complain about in theory, apple business was booming, but it meant she had fewer hooves to help with work that was more important than ever.
Worse yet, Granny had taken ill. Apple Bloom had her hooves full just keeping her in good health and better spirits, which ultimately left the full responsibility for the apple harvest squarely on Applejack’s shoulders.
Still, it could be even worse. Had been even worse in the past. Somepony had volunteered to help, after all. Not her first choice, not really even in her very predictable top five choices for help, but it was help nonetheless.
And right on cue…
“Good morning…” A voice called from down the road, trailing into a yawn before trying it again, “Good morning, Applejack!”
Applejack looked up from the apple cart she was readying for work. It was Starlight Glimmer, trotting sleepily towards the gate. Despite her mane being in perfect shape, the unicorn carried herself like a pony that had only just rolled out of bed. It was an open secret that Starlight was not a morning mare in the least.
“Mornin’, Starlight,” Applejack greeted her as she neared the gate, “You're sure lookin’ chipper this morning.”
The answering smile was only a little embarrassed, “This is even earlier than classes start.” She covered her mouth with a hoof as she loosed another yawn, “Coffee would've made me late.”
Applejack smiled amicably as she pulled open the fence gate for Starlight, then beckoned her towards the house, “Well come on then, we've got a lot of work to do and we'll get it done faster if you aren't falling asleep on your hooves.”
Starlight followed, but there was a frown at the edge of her mouth, “If you're sure, I wouldn't want to disturb Granny Smith.”
“So long as you aren't your usual rowdy self,” She winked at the unicorn, “Then I trust she'll sleep like the dead.” That was the wrong phrasing. It tangled around her a half moment too long, and by the way Starlight's frown deepened, she had noticed. Humor had left Applejack by the time she found her words again, “I'll fix ya some coffee.”
The door opened preemptively in front of Applejack, the handle wreathed in the faint shine of Starlight's magic. They made their way to the kitchen, and Starlight quietly settled into a seat as Applejack went about making coffee.
Applejack didn't want to think about the conversation that had just fizzled between them, so instead she thought about Starlight Glimmer. She had a strange relationship with the School of Friendship’s headmare.
Through Twilight, they were friends of a sort, friends of a friend, really. They weren't close, and Twilight's departure to Canterlot had only made that clearer. They both had their own friends, and without Twilight, they had been distant from each other. It wasn't through active dislike by either pony, but simple apathy, a lack of connection.
However, matters were further complicated by Starlight's recent change in occupation. As a professor at the school, Starlight was technically Applejack’s boss, though the unicorn didn't press that position on Applejack or any of the other Elements that still staffed the school. By the same token, Applejack was part of the council that ruled over all of Equestria with Twilight at its head, but she wasn't about to demand Starlight treat her that way. She hardly wanted anypony to treat her like high falutin’ royalty in the first place.
So it was awkward. That was the word on Applejack's mind as she handed the steaming hot mug of coffee to thin air, the unicorn’s aura of magic completing the hand-off. Awkward, as Applejack poured a mug of coffee for herself– it was already done, so why not– because she didn't know why Starlight was here or what she really wanted.
Applejack watched Starlight take a long sip of the coffee and set it down, a contented smile sprouting on her lips as she appreciated the taste behind closed eyes. It was unfair to suspect some ulterior motive from the unicorn. It had been years Starlight had reformed from villainy, but Applejack couldn't stop seeing her as the scheming sort. A simple offer to lend a hoof could never be that simple with her, could it?
“Good coffee,” Starlight remarked with a smile, punctuating it with another sip.
Applejack smiled back as genuinely as she could, “It's the good stuff I hide in the top cabinets. Hafta make sure Apple Bloom can't reach it, or else she'll waste it thinking today's the day she finally gets a taste for coffee.”
Starlight laughed and knocked the rest back like it wasn't even warm. Applejack took a sip of hers and lurched at the heat. With a sly smile, Starlight’s magic shimmered around the mug, and the temperature change was obvious on Applejack’s hooves. Starlight had used her magic to bring it to a drinkable temperature.
The unicorn frowned when Applejack set the mug aside without a single sip.
“We best get a move on,” Applejack announced, “Like I said. Long day ahead.”
“Sure, burning daylight, or whatever,” Starlight agreed, obviously put out. She stood from her seat and the pair trekked back out into the crisp morning.
“I'd appreciate it if you didn't go magicking any of the apples around,” Applejack lectured as she helped hook Starlight up to one of the apple carts, “Promise it's nothin’ personal, I'd give Twilight the same talk if she were here, just prefer to get it done with hooves alone.”
Starlight nodded, still obviously glum, “I know, Applejack, I know. I think it's weird how insistent you Ponyville ponies are about that sort of thing, but I've helped wrap up Winter here before, I get that's how you like to do things.”
“Right, so don't go thinking you can sneak it. Twilight pulled a stunt like that at her first Wrap-Up an’–”
“I know, I know,” Starlight’s voice was testy now, she was glaring, “I hear the story every year, I know. No magic on the apples! Got it! Can we get this over with now?”
Applejack hesitated, then nodded, moving to get herself hooked up to the other cart. She hadn't meant to upset Starlight, but you had to put your hoof down with unicorns sometimes. Magic was their hammer and every problem was nails, it wasn't their fault, just how they saw the world.
Intentional or not, though, she clearly had upset Starlight. Where the mare had showed up sleepy and smiling, she was now fully awake with a frown, trudging every hoofstep out into the field. Applejack twinged with guilt, but she couldn't force herself to regret setting a clear boundary. She would have to make it up to the mare somehow. Maybe that paperwork…
It was paperwork that they had been discussing when Starlight had offered her help. They had been in the faculty lounge, and Starlight asked, as she often did, about the paperwork that Applejack was behind on. Applejack didn't see the point.
Why bother to write down and sign all the things she'd done with students in her class? They knew what they'd done, and she knew what they'd done, and if anypony wondered, they could ask. Starlight insisted it was for the future, in case ‘prospective employers’ would come to demand ‘transcripts and curriculum,’ things that apparently mattered when you weren't guaranteed a lifelong employment on the family apple farm.
The first class of the school would graduate soon, an event that would coincide with Applejack and most of her friends stepping away from their tenure. They just didn't have the time anymore, and seeing off the outgoing students from Equestria’s neighbor-nations– Gallus, Ocellus, Smolder, Yona, and Silverstream– was the perfect way to wrap up the school’s first era of existence.
That was all well and good, exciting, even, but Applejack didn't see how paperwork could matter at this point.
Still, as they hauled their wagons to the quarter of the orchard that was their goal for the day, Applejack couldn't help but wonder if that was the scheme. Offer to help so Applejack would owe her a favor, then press her into all that overdue paperwork. She wouldn't put it past the unicorn.
By the time they stopped to set up, Applejack had managed to squish her guilt into a tiny kernel of frustration and suspicion instead. She wasn't about to owe anypony a favor, not unless that pony could prove herself to be a farmhoof worth a hoot.
Which Starlight quickly proved to be anything but.
“Come on, Starlight, it's real simple. You just give it a nice, hard–” Applejack grunted with effort as she whipped her hindlegs out and planted her hooves hard against the tree, “Buck!”
Starlight glared from her tree, across the narrow gap between planting rows. Her once-perfect mane was now a frizzing mess, her coat caked with dirt and sweat. They had been at it for hours now, and Applejack had been pushing the mare as hard as she'd expect from any Apple helping out on the farm. Harder, maybe.
“Like I said twenty trees ago,” Starlight paused, panting for breath, her whole body heaving, “It's simple for you.” Her hind legs kicked out, bucking, and only a spare few apples dropped into the buckets around the tree. Applejack tried, failed not to look smug. Any moment now, she expected the unicorn to beg to use her magic.
She had been expecting that moment for the past couple hours. It still hadn't come.
“There's gotta be something more useful for me,” Starlight huffed out, her rear sinking to the ground, “You're strong enough to punt me from here to Canterlot. I'm lucky if I can get a jar of jam open on my own.”
“You wanted to help. This is helping,” Applejack replied, serene, “I won't owe nopony nothin’ if they can't put in the hard work.”
“Owe you what?” Starlight cocked her head.
“Drop the act, Starlight, I figured it out hours ago. The paperwork?” Applejack tilted her head forward, an eyebrow raised, a look to tell Starlight she’d caught on to her little scheme.
Starlight just blinked back, “Paperwork…?”
Applejack sighed and scowled, “Y’know, the paperwork? The stuff you've been on my flank for weeks over? The reason you're helpin’ me here?”
She just blinked again, looking confused. Starting to look annoyed. “Is… Is that what you think this is about? That’s why I've been embarrassing myself trying to buck trees for hours now?”
Applejack looked away, her cheeks warming up. It began to occur to her that she might have made some incorrect assumptions about Starlight's character.
“Well?” The mare was standing now, “Spit it out, Professor of Honesty!”
Applejack tugged her hat off and rubbed one hoof behind her head, “I, uh, mighta assumed some ulterior motive on your behalf.”
“Yeah, you just ‘mighta!’” Starlight was exasperated. Her rump dropped back to the ground, sitting while she heaved a sigh, “Is that really what you think? After all these years, you still think I'd be as underhoofed as that?”
“I just couldn't see any other reason for ya ta…” Applejack trailed off.
“To help? Maybe because we're friends, or I'm trying to be! Maybe because you said your brother is busy!” Starlight's voice fell softer, gentler, “Maybe because your grandmother is sick and that's terrifying and you shouldn't have to be alone with that.”
Applejack’s heart dropped in her chest. She hadn't been thinking about that, didn't want to think about that, but of course that was it. Their conversation had started with the paperwork, but Applejack had excused herself as busy. When Starlight pressed for why, Applejack had explained. It had been immediate after that. Starlight hadn't hesitated even a second to offer her help.
Applejack wanted to jam her hoof into her mouth. She settled for slapping it to her face instead.
“Starlight… Oh sweet Celestia I owe you a real proper apology.”
“You do,” Starlight agreed as she stood and trotted the distance between them, settling herself next to Applejack, “But maybe we can worry about that later. Can we talk about this right now? When you mentioned she was sick, I was really worried, but you seemed so casual about it.”
Applejack hung her head low, still avoiding Starlight’s gaze, “Been tryin’ not to think about it much, honest.”
“I wish I knew what to say, or else I would've said something by now. My dad’s been last-pony-standing for most of my life, so I can't say I've been where you are right now. Maybe I'm not the best pony for this.”
Applejack shook her head, firm and certain, but still looking away, “You are the best pony for this. You're the pony that's here right now.”
“Is, um, this recent? Or…?”
“Used to be just every once in a while, give her a couple days and she's right as rain again. Then the years got away from me, and now once in a while is every coupla months, and gettin’ worse.”
“The years are getting away from all of us,” Starlight agreed, “Ponyville has changed a lot even just in the time I've been here. It must be overwhelming for you, sometimes.”
“Overwhelming, sure, that's one word for it. Scary seein’ Granny start to wear her age, for sure. But excitin’ too. My brother got hitched to a wonderful mare, my baby sister's growin’ up. Sad too, though, when friends move away.”
There was a beat of silence between them. They were both thinking of the same friend.
“I miss her too.”
“I’m always lookin’ forward ta seein’ her, but the only time we see each other these days is, well, I'm sure I don't gotta tell you.”
“Business.” They sighed in synchrony.
“Okay, maybe I do have a confession of my own,” Starlight didn't look half as contrite as her words made her sound, “I did have my own reason for asking to help, but I swear it had nothing to do with the paperwork.”
Applejack finally looked her way, eyebrow raised.
“I've been missing her a lot, and I guess I've been lonely. I haven't really felt like I could talk to my other friends about it,” Starlight’s smile was sad and embarrassed in equal measure, her cheeks just the faintest red, “But then I thought, there's other ponies out there who get it. Other ponies who probably miss her just as much as me.”
“Other ponies who might appreciate the chance to talk about her,” Applejack agreed.
“Or anything else those ponies might want to talk about,” Starlight nodded, still smiling, “She wouldn't want us to see it as a loss. She would want us to see it as an opportunity. We both know we weren't exactly the closest ponies before, but maybe we can come together rather than drifting apart.”
Applejack hung her head, “Goodness, Starlight, I can't apologize to you enough. I got so wrapped up in not thinking about my own problems, I started havin’ all sorts of ridiculous ideas about you.”
“Apology accepted, Applejack,” Starlight put a comforting hoof to her shoulder, “As long as you don't make me buck one single more apple tree. Please.”
Applejack started to laugh, and Starlight quickly joined in. “Shucks Starlight, I don't even drive Mac half as hard as I was driving you. You can rest those twigs you call legs, we’ll put you on basket duty. That's what Apple Bloom usually does.”
Starlight flopped to the ground in relief, “Oh thank Celestia.”
“You can even use that fancy horn of yours– baskets only, not the apples. I swear it makes em taste funny.”
Starlight gave a half-hearted salute from where she lay sprawled. Her horn lit, snatching one full basket of apples, one empty. With careful percision, she dumped the full basket perfectly into the empty basket, no apples held in the haze of her magical field. Applejack nodded her approval.
Applejack stood, but she didn't hurry Starlight along, and Starlight didn't seem eager to follow. There were still trees nearby to buck, and Starlight could take the hint and do her work from on the ground anyways.
“Sooo,” Applejack began as casually as she could between grunts of exertion, trees being bucked, “Does this mean I don't need to do that paperwork?”
Starlight gave her the laziest look of annoyance possible, “I don't want to trick you or force you to do the paperwork. I want you to understand why it's so important, so you'll do a good job.”
“So walk me through it.”
“Sure, maybe it'll stick better than the last dozen times.”
Applejack smirked, “Not much to think about while buckin’ apples.”
“Fine,” Starlight hauled herself halfway upright, eyes on Applejack, “You know this school is completely unprecedented, right? It's bad enough it's unaccredited by the EEA– you remember Neighsayer– but it's not like any other school in all of Equestria, period. When our students graduate, the only accolade the school will have is that the Princess’s name is on it. Our students are untested, unproven, there's no track record.”
“And that's what Neighsayer woulda done? Given it a track record?”
“Something close to it. If the group that runs all these schools ponies know are good and reliable says another school is good and reliable, that carries weight. Their regulations are rigid, and their curriculums… Leave something to be desired, if you ask me, but the consistency is something ponies can count on when they're looking to hire graduates.”
Applejack nodded, following along, “And those ponies don't know what to expect out of our students.”
“Right. Hardly anypony knows what we actually teach in the school or why any of it could matter. Plus we've got our students from the other nations. They're practically test runs, and who knows for what? Ambassadors? Governing officials?”
Another tree was bucked clean. The baskets were lazily stacked into the cart, traded for empty ones at the next tree in a fluid dance. Working her magic didn't even seem to distract Starlight from her rambling.
“So we need to be clear about it. Everything they've done, and why those things matter, how the skills they learn can be used for the benefit for all creatures in all nations. I don't run your class, I can't write it out for you. That's why I need you to do it. That's why I need you to care enough to do it well, for the sake of our students. Well, and for my own sanity.”
“Alright, Starlight, I'll get it done.”
The mare pumped her hooves in victory, “Thank you, Applejack. I don't need you to rush it, there's still moons to go before graduation, I'm just glad I could convince you.”
The conversation subsided into thoughtless pleasantries as their work began to form a well-oiled machine. Starlight would whisk the baskets down the row of unbucked trees, Applejack would proceed down the line with practiced ease, and the baskets would smoothly deposit their contents in the cart.
It was late into the afternoon by the time they called it quits. They hadn't gotten the whole quarter done, which would likely put Applejack behind, but she found she didn't mind that so much. Sure, on her own she would have gotten it done in a day, but she’d be twice as tired and much more bored.
Then, Starlight surprised her.
“So, same time tomorrow morning? Still got three quadrants and some change, if I'm guessing right.” Applejack hadn't noticed the mare smiling at her.
“I appreciate the help, but you don't gotta waste your whole weekend workin’ for me. I'm sure you've got your own chores to take care of.”
Starlight bumped her, shoulder to shoulder, “It’s not wasting a weekend to spend time with your friend. Besides, we’ll make better time if I don't waste the morning trying to buck trees. We were pretty quick by the end there.”
Applejack rolled her eyes and bumped Starlight back, “Alright, same time tomorrow, you just bring that chipper morning attitude, I'll have some coffee on when ya get here.”
“Thanks, Applejack, I'll see you then.”
“I'm the one who should be thanking you, Starlight. For a lot of things. So, y'know, thanks.”
Starlight smiled, turned, and trotted away, humming quietly to herself.
Applejack watched her go. There was a weight off her shoulders. It had helped to share the burden with a friend.
Turning to the door, she caught a glimpse of green in the rocking chair by the window. Granny was out of bed.
This apple season wouldn't be so hard after all.
