Lady of the Night

Applejack woke up to the smell of a well made farmers breakfast. She sat bolt upright, and gave herself a very thorough look-over. There was nothing unusual about her form, just the traditional nightgown she wore covering her firm body, her womanly breasts well concealed. There were no marks from sleeping on the ground, and she felt...rather well rested.

What the hell?

The young woman stood up, and proceeded to stride over to her wardrobe. She had always worn the same sort of clothing her whole life, well except for that little excursion over to Manehatten. Applejack shuddered at the memory of those impeccable little imps.

"My heavens, what are you wearing, darling?" her aunt asked, staring in a sense of utter horror at her little niece. The look on the woman's face was shifting rapidly between some very mixed emotions, fluttering between concern, disdain, worry, and utter rage. "I will not approve of my kin acting in such a...such a...vile, despicable manner! Tis utterly uncouth!"

"Ah'm sorry, auntie Josaphine. Ah didn't mean ta getcha all riled up lahk tha'-"

"Now you're doing it again! You must stop such shenanigans at once, at learn to speak like a proper lady! We do not approve of such barbaric vernacular in this household, so please refrain from such dialect."

"But Auntie, ah don't know how ta do-"

"Then we shall teach you. I happen to know one of the best linguists and speech therapists in the world. A certain Henry Higgins is his name, and he has trained far worse than you..."

Applejack tried her best to set such thoughts about her other relatives aside. While her father had been from Manehatten, he had still fallen for the mare of his dreams and put up with her speech patterns, despite his upbringing. That was all that had mattered, and the young woman was glad her father had been so considerate, especially since it resulted in her existence, after all!

"Oh father, how ah have missed ya..."

"Applejack! The hash browns won't eat themselves!"

She stared off into space, trying to remember what her dream the night before had been. There was something nagging at the back of her mind, tickling at it like some kind of hidden secret, wishing to no avail to be dug up. Applejack sighed and threw on her clothes. The typical jeans and and leather jacket suited her just fine, especially once she threw on her trademark Stetson.

"Ah'm comin', Granny!"

Applejack bounded down the stairs, not caring about how the stairs creaked and groaned from the constant abuse that she had given them over the years. She was anxious to get some grub into her stomach, especially since she felt absolutely famished. "Ah'm comin'!" The young blonde literally hurdled over the railing on the side of the stairs, and bolted into the kitchen. "Ah'm com-"

She was suddenly cut off by her own shock at the sight in front of her. Granny Smith stood by the stove, distributing the bacon with the hashies that the kind old lady had always loved to make. Braeburn stood over by the sink, washing off the kitchenware that had been used to cook the magnificent breakfast in front of them. Big Mac and Applebloom were already seated, waiting eagerly for the next part of the meal. There was only one problem.

"Wha's wrong, dearie? Are you alright?"

Applejack doubled over to vomit, expelling all the contents that were left of the prior night's dinner. She looked up to see her grandmother, head hanging loosely on her shoulder, and blood seeping through her apparent arteries. One of the arms was missing, and blood slowly seeped from the messy, ragged stump of where her left arm had been. Granny didn't seem to notice this, though, and only adopted a look of concern in her glazed eyes.

"Applejack, are you alright?" Braeburn asked. His guts hung freely from his disemboweled corpse, and the deep, nasty gashes across his face seemed to open in time with his words, pouring blood profusely from them. The whole place reeked of bile and shit.

Applebloom stared up at her, the only thing marring the little redhead's face being the blood coming from her nose and mouth, and the split eyebrow that left the eyelid drooping over her right eye. She had obviously been beaten sorely. Then there was Big Mac, seemingly unharmed in all of this.

"What the fuck is going on?!"

"Don't you use that foul language, Applejack! We don't talk like that in here, especially in front of Applbl-"

"Listen to me, you stupid bitch, you're dead! GET IT?! NOW LEAVE ME ALONE AND GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!!"

Applejack woke up screaming. This was the fourth night in a row that she had had horrible nightmares, grisly depictions of what she had already seen...Big Mac was sitting up, looking at her with that concerned expression she had come to know all to well.

"Did you have another one, sis?" Macintosh asked, looking at her with those deep green eyes. He seemed to be feeling the same way about all of this, but there was no real telling with him. Applejack sighed. She wished she could be as strong as he was, but that just wasn't likely to happen.

"It was the same one as last night, Macintosh. I just wish that they'd still be here. I don't know what to do about all of this..."

They had finally adjusted to the different speech patterns, and even used Manehatten upper class style of speaking in practice. The focus on vernacular had given something for the siblings to do to keep their minds off of the whole mess that had started back on that now-infamous night.

The language was not the only thing that they had been practicing. During the last week, there had to be at least twenty hours of boxing and wrestling training that Macintosh had put her through. He hadn't shown her any mercy in their little training bouts, and she still had the welts and bruises to prove it. Sometimes she resented him for it, even though she knew why he was being hard on her. It wasn't in Big Mac's nature to take his frustration out on others, but she knew he wanted her to survive the fights they were heading towards.

"Just try and get some rest, Applejack. We have a long day tomorrow. We're only five days from Canterlot, and the next town ahead of us is where we'll get the proper attire. Maybe some muskets would help..."

It was late afternoon when they finally arrived at their destination, a small town called Saddleton. Applejack was still wondering why every town or city was named after something to do with equines...They walked down the dusty street that shot like an arrow towards the town. There were no cobbles, and the stores on either side of the road ahead of them looked somewhat decrepit from infrequent visits and little repair.

Big Macintosh perused his settings, ever watchful for anyone who might try and do his sister harm. Applejack mentally face-palmed. Her brother was far too protective, even when it wasn't really needed. At least she didn't have to worry about someone trying to break her hymen against her will. That would be really inconvenient...

"Are you okay, Applejack? You seem sort of disconcerted." She had to resist the urge to punch him. While the big guy had been testing his new vocabulary, that particular word had been used far too much recently.

"I'm fine. Can we get on with business now, Billy?"

They were still getting adjusted to using their alias's, and knew that now was a good time to get acquainted with them. Upon reflection, she decided that they should probably do the same thing when by themselves, so that they wouldn't screw it up.

"Sure, Alice. We should start with some clothes. And you should have left the Stetson..."

"NO! It's my one memory from my childhood. Let me keep it."

"That's what they'll be looking for. If they know anything about you, they'll be looking for it. Whoever they are, they understand that you'd keep it."

"No, it's mine!"

Big Mac simply gave her a look, knowing that she was just going through the motions. That left little options as far as the next step was concerned.

"We can't let our sister pay for selfishness. I know you'll miss it. But the time has come to move on...Let it go."

Applejack barely held back the tears that she was feeling well up in her eyes. It wasn't just a matter of the hat. She had lost her family, her home, her name, and her speech. All that losing that hat did was symbolize what she had already left behind. The only thing ahead of her was that sweet little sister that had been wrenched from her feeble arms.

She looked at it, and back to the town they were about to enter. With a mournful sigh, she set the hat on the ground. Poor Stetson, she thought. The pretty blonde figured that she might find it again, someday. She knew better, but there was always hoping.

The pair walked down the dusty road and into the withered old town ahead of them. There were several open shops ahead of them. They all had worn out signs hanging from sagging poles in front of their shops, and the names were rather...stupid.

"The Appetizing Apothecary? What the hell were they thinking?! I guess they've just grown a little inbred around here," Big Macintosh said, looking around with a sense of disdain. Applejack couldn't blame him; she was having trouble not laughing at the somewhat mindless choices for shop names. Finally found what they were looking for, after some frustrating moments trying to decipher what the title meant.

"Morgan & Mustang, the Plot, Mound, and Shaft Concealers Inc. What the hell does that mean?"

"Dunno. I'm supposing that it's for clothing attire. They wouldn't name it that if it were just a restaurant," Big Mac replied. He didn't wait for a response before walking into the little store. Applejack followed suit.

"Good day to you both, my name is Morgan. Is there anything interesting for you to find?"

Applejack reeled at the sudden introduction, especially before she even had a chance to establish what was in the business. After gazing around, she quickly established that it was, indeed, a tailor's shop. There were many dresses, suits, and other assortments sitting around on the mannequins.

"Um...yes," Big Mac replied, gazing at the shopkeeper with a look of curiosity. Applejack took a double-take after taking a good look at him. The old crone was a withered old man, with a kind look on his face. He bore the expression of one who truly understands someone other than just themselves, and accepts their flaws without complaint. He was also wearing a dress and wore some serious amounts of makeup on his wrinkled, old face.

"We would like to get some better clothes for our travels. These...clothes...are no longer necessary, and neither of us are looking to wear mere rags anymore. Can you tailor us some decent attire?"

"Why yes, but it's going to cost you a pretty penny. I hope you have the coin, or else get out of here. I'm a busy man, and don't have time for any nonsense."

"I understand," Big Mac said. He seemed unperturbed by what the man had decided was decent clothing for himself. Applejack was starting to understand why their father had been so proud of him...

Well at least he's capable of not staring at that...guy.

Their measurements were promptly taken, and the old man walked off into the back, no doubt creating some fine clothes. Applejack took a look at Big Mac, and decided to ask him a question.

"How are we going to afford this?" she whispered. "We probably don't have anywhere near the money!"

Big Mac looked at her with a devious smile. "Oh yes we do. Don't you remember where our father came from? Do you think he didn't have any money left when he came to our farm? I inherited it to take care of you and our sister. Never really thought it was worth much, but it sure as hell is now."

The giant of a man pulled out a very large bag of coin, probably several hundred gold bits. Applejack stared at it for a little while, before returning her composure. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I still remembered your little Manehatten incident, and didn't want to tempt you to resume that life. Besides, you'd have made a terrible snob. I'd rather keep my sister the way she is, thanks."

"Is this all we have?"

"Of course not! There is actually about four million sitting in the Manehatten bank, at least last time I checked. I had this sitting under my bed for in case of an emergency, such as this."

Applejack tried her best not to think to hard on it. She knew that if she attempted to picture how much money that was, her head would hurt. So instead, she decided to have a look around. There were items other than just clothing lying around, as she soon found out. Some of it was rather nice. However, one particular item caught her eye.

"What is this?" she asked her brother. Big Mac wandered over to where she was at, staring vacantly at a dark grey pendant with a large ruby in the center. The figure was of a unicorn with wings, and had a certain...appeal...to it. He looked over at Applejack, and decided that it would fit the dress she would be wearing. Well, probably.

After some considerable time, the tailor returned with his completed product. Big Mac had already explained to him the coloring he had wanted, given what nobility wore. The man had obliged, and voila! Attire fitting of the social elite. He knew that this was probably pulling it just a bit far, but they wouldn't be expecting inherently wealthy, would they? And it made the petition to a princess all the easier.

"Thank you kindly, Morgan. Here's your pay. Now about that amulet over there..."

After what seemed like an eternity, they left the town on horseback from some newly acquired stallions. The attire was based largely off of the colors of red and gold, which fit well with the blonde hair and green eyes that seemed to run in the family. They had stopped by several stores along the way through town, and had even purchased some pistols  for protection, and a pair of rapiers. While they had shot muskets before, the rapier was almost ludicrous on Big Mac's side, especially given his lack of experience.

They stopped nearby when Applejack looked back upon they little village they had just seen, and stared off in the general direction of where they had left her hat. She knew that if they left now, there would be no way to possibly retrieve it. But Applebloom needed her, and playing games with that hat wasn't going to save her.

For you, sister. For you, and only you.

They rode off, leaving behind a little piece of that young woman, now dressed in a fashion stating wealth and nobility, which, on her father's side, wasn't far off. Life would never be the same, but it would go on. They left the hat behind.

The brown Stetson lay there, and when the sun began to set, a breeze picked up. It was blown off into the hills, and continued to be swept along. Days and nights seemed to pass it by as it aged in the natural elements, and eventually reached the Everfree Forest. There it lay, caught in a bush for several weeks. Eventually, it began to decay, and fell into pieces. Scattered, the remnants blew through the wind, some here some there. One piece made a little snack for a hungry goat. Another made a little padding in a birds nest. But whatever the case, it was truly gone...