A Jug Of Apple W(h)ine And Thou...by Mr MerrittChaptersChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter OneHaving been an Apple pony for a while now, Peppermill had managed to learn quite a few things he would have never had in Canterlot. He knew that he had no right to even think about trying to buck apples like Big Macintosh or Applejack. He learned just how far he could tease Applebloom before he had to apologize and/or make a run for safety. He knew just when to pay rapt attention to Granny Smith’s ramblings and when he could afford to let his mind wander. He also had, by this point, a fairly good idea of what foods tended to make a good impression at the Apple dinner table. While the little cook appreciated and took to heart any and all new techniques, recipes and so on he could not forget his roots. Home-style cooking was all well and good, but he always felt more comfortable when preparing more…upper class fare. Despite the insistence, bordering on complaints, that they didn’t care for ‘fancy vittles’ the grey Earth colt could tell he was slowly but surely winning them over. Because of this, it meant that Peppermill could occasionally go all out with a feast fit for a princess and maybe seen only in a high-end eatery in Canterlot or even the Crystal Kingdom. He was determined to prove, if at the very least to the notoriously picky Applejack, that high-class food could be just a fulfilling and tasty as country cooking. And if it meant he could shake off any rust in his memory or skill set then he was doubly intent to do a good job. This was the scenario the colt was facing as he busied himself one late afternoon in the kitchen of Sweet Apple Acres. He had been given after a generous amount of begging, promises and debts to be named later permission to make whatever he wanted for the evening meal. And Peppermill had decided that he was going to go for the gusto, searching his memory for every detail he could recall from his previous life at his parent’s restaurant. Thanks to a bit of help from some of his older friends and a bit of scrounging he was able to arrange for a full-blown five course meal. He was even able to set up the big table the family ate at just like a setting back at the restaurant. He had polished silverware, folded napkins, spread a tablecloth and even managed to borrow a candleholder from Rarity. Despite all of the hard work and continuous offers of assistance from his elder siblings Peppermill had insisted on doing it all himself. And in the end he felt he had done a pretty impressive job, if he did say so himself. So impressive was all the work he had put into the dining experience he intended for his surrogate family, they felt it only fair to go all out themselves. It amused the little chef to no end when he found his grandmother, elder brother and elder sisters waiting patiently in the living room to be seated. All of them to a pony were in as formal of clothes as her had ever seen them. Between Big Macintosh’s collar and tie and the dresses his female family members were wearing it brought back powerful memories of patrons waiting patiently to be seated. “Apple party for…five?” asked Peppermill, his voice light with mirth. “Eyup.” Big Macintosh spoke for the family, a bemused look on his face. He wasn’t the kind of pony one might have expected to be willing to ‘play along’ as it were, but whatever made his little brother happy… “This way…please…” Peppermill led the way to where he had managed to maneuver the dining table so there would be room for all five of them. It meant having the piece of furniture straddling the kitchen and the living room, but it was a small price to pay. Appreciative murmurs were made as Peppermill pulled out and seated each of his family members. “Land sakes. This brings back all sorts of memories sugar cube.” remarked Applejack. “I reckon Aunt and Uncle Orange couldn’t have done better…” “Ah don’t think ahv seen anything so fancy in mah life.” agreed Applebloom. “I reckon you put a lot of work into this sugar britches.” smiled Granny Smith. “It is mighty impressive.” nodded Big Mac. “Ah cain’t wait ta see wut you got planned fer the meal.” “Well, I admit…it was a bit of…work to remember every detail. But…I am pretty sure this…was a common five course….special that we used…to offer. I had to…make a few…substitutions but…you are going to experience…a true Aperitif/Digestif classic.” explained Peppermill. “So wut exactly is a five course meal? Do ya mean five different things?” asked Applebloom. “An appetizer…a soup…a salad, followed by the…main course and a dessert.” explained the colt. “Don’t worry if…it sounds like too much food. Most of…the starting stuff is…quite small.” “Golly…” As the young filly absorbed this information, the colt went to the kitchen counter where a large colored glass bottle sat. He removed the already loosened cork from the top and carefully carried it to the table. “Shall I pour…some wine for everypony?” With impressive dexterity for having hooves, Peppermill managed to carefully pour a small amount of the fermented beverage in four long stemmed glasses around the table. As he went around the table, you could sense excitement radiating off of Applebloom. This was quite possibly the most grown-up thing she had ever taken part in, and she wanted in the worst way to show how mature she was. When her little brother reached her glass however, he promptly stopped pouring and placed the now half-empty bottle onto the table. “Ahem…” The little filly cleared her throat and gave Peppermill a very pointed look, her gaze going from him to her empty glass and then to the wine bottle. The colt looked at her in surprise. “Are you…implying something Applebloom?” queried Peppermill. “Don’t ah get some of that stuff too?” she asked. “I’m not sure…if I like the idea…of letting you have any wine…” Immediately after he said this, the colt knew he made a regrettable mistake. He had learned quite quickly that one of the things that really brought out the worst in the red-maned filly was trying to tell her she shouldn’t do or try something. Sure enough, her face twisted into an angry scowl. “Oh, so it is okay fer you to have that stuff but it ain’t okay fer me?” “Have you ever…had wine before, Applebloom?” questioned Peppermill further. “Ah reckon not, unless she ain’t been honest with us.” responded Applejack emphatically. “Oh, and ah suppose you’ve drank that stuff yerself.” Applebloom ignored her sister, her ire solely on the grey colt. “I’ve had…a glass or two…in the past.” admitted Peppermill, beginning to feel a bit of annoyance at all the venom directed at him by Applebloom. This revelation proved to be a surprise to his family, who all looked at one another. “Ah reckon your maw and pa were around to watch over ya…” said Big Macintosh, to which Peppermill nodded his agreement. “Eh, a little of the hard stuff ain’t gonna kill ya. Of course, this is wine we are talkin’ about.” commented Granny Smith, deciding to add her two bits to the conversation. “ Ifin you young’uns were to try some of Granny’s…er…special tonic ah would hafta take a willow switch to ya. And don’t think yer too old fer that, cause ya ain’t.” “Ifin Peppermill can drink wine, ah get to!” Peppermill looked desperately to his elder siblings and grandmother for help. But all he got was shrugs and apologetic looks, for they knew as well as he did that Apple stubbornness was almost legendary. “All right Applebloom…if you really want some.” With a resigned shake of his head the colt poured only half as much of the alcoholic beverage as he did for the others in the glass in front of the red-head. As he made his way to serve the appetizer course Applebloom picked up the glass carefully by the stem between her forehooves and peered into the deep red depths. “Doesn’t smell all that good if ya ask me.” she murmured. “But if this is wut all the fancy adult ponies drink…” She immediately tipped the glass back and drained the contents in one gulp, to the shock of the assorted ponies. “Hoo boy, this is gonna get ugly…” Applejack was already grabbing a napkin, while Peppermill raced to his sister’s side. “You don’t just…chug down wine! You sip it!” he scolded her. But the damage, so to speak, was already done. The filly’s face went as red as her mane, her cheeks began to bulge out and she leapt clear across and over the table and into the kitchen. The fact that she managed not to upset a single glass or plate was dimmed slightly by the retching and spitting noises coming from the other room. “Huh, it didn’t seem that bad ta me…” muttered Granny, sniffing at her own beverage. “Oh…bother…” groaned Peppermill. Author's Note I'm not a wine drinker at all, so I emphasize with AB...:P Chapter TwoNormally whenever Applebloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo got together their days were spent pondering what kind of cutie marks an Earth, Pegasus and unicorn filly might want. That would be followed by a misadventure that usually resulted in no cutie mark and some sort of mess to clean up. Even so, they would not be deterred from comparing notes and looking forward to another day and another chance at gaining their marks. But not today… Today found the young Apple pony lying in one corner of the Cutie Mark Crusader Clubhouse on her back, with a cool cloth draped over her face and all sorts of miserable sounds of self-pity being heard from her. A little ways away, at a small table sat her two best friends and fellow Crusaders trying (and failing) to ignore her misery. “So, what do you think it was this time?” asked Sweetie Belle, chin in her hooves and trying not to look at her prone friend. “I mean, this is like the third time in two weeks she’s been complaining about something Peppermill fed her.” “Who knows…” grumbled Scootaloo. “All I know is that she can’t possibly be as hurt as she is acting. Applebloom has a cast iron bottomless pit for a stomach.” “Urgh…” was the pitiful wail from the corner. “You don’t suppose Peppermill is doing all of this on purpose, do you?” “Nah. He isn’t the type. Chances are Applebloom probably demanded he do it.” “Cain’t you girls see ahm sufferin’ over here?” Applebloom snapped, lifting the cloth off of her face long enough to glare daggers at the other fillies. “Maybe if you told us what you ate that is hurting you so much we would know how to make you feel better.” explained Sweetie. “Ugh, ah don’t wanna think about it.” Applebloom rolled onto her side, her back to her friends, and muttered darkly to herself. “Well then don’t expect any sympathy from me. If you aren’t up for crusading then I’m going to go and hang out with Rainbow Dash.” snorted Scootaloo. “Don’t go…please…” came a sad request from the corner. “It was…” “Yes?” “Was…” “Yes?!” *** A few hours earlier… “Are you…really sure you want…to go through with this?” This was the unhappy question posed by the grey Earth colt to his female sibling as she sat at the kitchen table with a ferocious scowl on her face. “Ahm sure.” The pure intensity of the filly’s glare at the object in the center of the table made Peppermill wonder if he shouldn’t just make a run for it. But he also knew that there was no way he could out-run Applebloom, especially in the mood she was in. Ever since her adverse reaction to the glass of wine a few nights earlier, Applebloom had fallen into a foul mood. Peppermill attempted to explain how having been raised in a restaurant meant he had access to foods some ponies didn’t like high end wine. As well, because his father believed in catering to any and all patron regardless of species, it meant the colt had the unique opportunity to experience food that most herbivores with flatly run away from. Just because he could handle this sort of thing and she couldn’t didn’t make him any better than her. The apple filly did not buy this one bit. As a result, she had begun a single-minded crusade (outside of cutie marks) to prove to herself and her little brother that anything he could do, she could do just as well. Peppermill, much to his dismay, found himself searching back into his memories of the various meals that had been a staple of his family’s establishment to see what he could offer the filly to try. No matter what he found, and no matter how tame it seemed to him poor Applebloom simply could not stomach any of it. Today Peppermill had decided to try and simply scare his sister into forgetting about this desire to toughen her tummy to exotic cuisine. He came up with what he felt would be something even Applebloom would refuse to try. It took a bit of work and some promises to a certain grey filly with impressive gourmet tastes herself to procure this tidbit, but he hoped and prayed to Celestia and Luna that it would do the trick. “Have you ever…heard of Caesar salad?” asked Peppermill of his sister. She took her burning gaze from the object of her ire long enough to glare right in the colt’s dark eyes and shake her head in the negative. “It’s a special salad…found all over Equestria. Nopony remembers…who this ‘Caesar’ pony might…have been but this…dish was named for him.” “Huh, that don’t look lahk any salad I’ve ever seen…” “While there are…many variations of…this salad, there is only…one true recipe that…any chef worth their salt…would follow to be…authentic. The proper…version of it contains…greens, cheese…egg…” “Ahv had eggs before, thought they ain't mah favorite...” “And these…” Peppermill motioned to the object in the center of the kitchen table. Applebloom stared with intensity and perhaps just a hint of trepidation at the container before her. It was, for all purposes, a small metal can. It had rounded corners and a metal key placed at one end, which appeared to be for the purpose of peeling off the lid and revealing its contents. With a resigned sigh, the colt reached over and slowly turned the key over and over. … … … “Hrmm…” The noise from Applebloom’s throat was a pretty solid indicator to the colt that this was going to get interesting in a hurry. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest that it was a direct result of the pungent aroma wafting from the can as he opened it up fully. The filly began to chew her bottom lip anxiously as she peered into the can at… “Fish? Ya gotta be kidding me!” “Actually they…are called sardines. But you…have the right idea.” “Why would any pony in their right mind eat a salad with a fish in it?” “Few ponies actually…know about sardines being…a part of the…traditional recipe. In fact I think…my father was probably the only…chef in Canterlot that…put them in it. Of course…he always made sure…not to mention it too often. Believe me Applebloom…the difference between this salad…with and without sardines…is very noticeable.” “And yer tellin’ me you actually…eat…those things?” Applebloom’s face began to take on a slightly green hue, a stark contrast from her yellow coat. “I’ve been known…to crave the occasional one or…three.” Deciding the time was right to go for the proverbial knockout blow, Peppermill began his ritual. It was completely true that the colt had eaten sardines in the past, and while they were most certainly an acquired taste for an herbivore, he genuinely liked them in small numbers. He had developed a unique eating style that was as much for show as it was for consumption. The grey colt carefully grasped one of the tiny fish by the tail between his forehooves and lifted it high above his head. Applebloom’s amber gaze was locked on the tiny creature as Peppermill tilted his head back, opened his mouth, and… *plop* *gulp* …down it went. He chewed for a moment, savouring the salty oil that the sardine was packed in, and then swallowed. The entire time Applebloom could only stare in growing horror at what her little brother was doing. Finally the colt gave the filly a satisfied smile. “This particular…brand is always…very good.” For a long few moments there was absolute silence in the room as Applebloom looked at Peppermill, then to the can of sardines, then back at him. The apple filly seemed to shake with unbridled rage, then she lunged for the can, grabbed a sardine between her forehooves… …held it over her head… …the sardine swayed in her grip… …a single drop of oil glistening on the end of the fish’s head caught the colt’s eye… …she opened her mouth… …the drop of oil fell… … … … “YEARGH!!!” *** “Ah tossed that dang fish across the room and ran fer the bathroom. By the tahm my stomach stopped flippin’ out Peppermill and those *shudder* sardines were gone.” Applebloom, having been forced to relieve her traumatic experience, laid back down with the cloth back on her face and a forehoof rubbing her agitated stomach. “That’s probably the grossest thing I have ever heard.” remarked Sweetie Belle with a shudder of her own. “All it took was one drop of…whatever those fish were covered in and you are still suffering?” quipped a skeptical Scootaloo. “Are you sure you aren’t just looking for sympathy because you found something else that Peppermill can eat that you can’t?” “You’re supposed ta be mah friends. You’re supposed to feel sorry fer me…” answered a sullen Applebloom. “Not when you brought all of this on yourself.” The Pegasus filly stomped over to where Applebloom lay, and frowned down at her. “You aren’t telling us everything. There has to be more to it than just what you can’t stomach.” “You wouldn’t understand…you are an only pony.” was the rather dour answer. “I’m not an only pony. Maybe I can understand.” offered Sweetie hopefully. “But you ain’t an older sister!” snapped Applebloom, who suddenly sat up and tossed the cloth against the wall. “You jus’ cain’t understand. Just…just leave me alone.” With that the Apple filly stormed out of the clubhouse leaving Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo to watch in dismay and confusion. Author's Note I have been wanting to write that 'sardine scene' for such a long time. And so help me I love writing dialogue for Applejack/Applebloom (even is the spell check doesn't :) Chapter Three“More tea Mr. Peppermill?” Pinkie Pie, in a top hat and monocle, waved the teapot in front of the sullen colt. Peppermill, in a derby (not by his own choice, but having to follow the apparent formal dress rule enforced by the Element of Laughter) sighed. “Yes…please…” The grey chef watched as the pink mare poured him a measure of green tea into his cup. He glanced around Pinkie’s bedroom, the place he had been spending a considerable amount of time lately. This was due to the fact that it proved to be the one place where Applebloom could not seem to find him. Whether it was because she didn’t think Peppermill would hide in such a random place or that she simply wasn’t trying that hard was unimportant. All Peppermill needed right now was time to think about the problem at hoof. Of course when you found yourself surrounded by inanimate objects plus one baby alligator having green tea and ginger snap cookies with a certified party animal, trying to focus was rather trying… “Was it…something I said? I’m positive I…didn’t say anything…like I was better than her…” Peppermill had found that for the last few days he had been spending with Pinkie Pie that she seemed content to let him vent his frustrations rather than offer advice. In truth, the mare seemed more interested in having small talk with the other ‘guests’ around the table. “It’s always sad when brothers and sister fight, isn’t it Rocky?” questioned Pinkie of a small pile of stones with a party hat on top. “Yeah, it’s a cryin’ shame.” The fact that Pinkie was nudging the pile, performing a rather questionable ventriloquist act and using an accent that reminded the colt of his cousin Babs Seed was devoutly ignored. Peppermill had seen and heard enough about his eccentric friend not to be completely freaked out by it. At least her…mane isn’t all flat like…how Rainbow warned me about… “It’s not my fault…I am used to…strange foods. Well, strange…for a pony at…any rate.” “You mean like zee hot sauce on zee cupcakes mon petite?” questioned Madam Le Flour. “No, I think…even I wouldn’t be able…to deal with that.” Peppermill took a half-hearted nibble of his cookie. Not even his favorite Pinkie Pie baked good could shake him from his gloom. Pinkie, who had been staring at the colt for a few moments, suddenly gave a big sigh. She removed her top hat and monocle, placed her forehooves onto either side of the colt’s face and stared hard into his face. “Peppy, I know that there is nothing you could ever do to make Applebloom hate you.” “Well, then…what exactly is making her…bring all this suffering…on herself?” demanded the colt. “Hmm…” For a few seconds, Pinkie’s face went blank in thoughts. The fact that she continued to hold the colt’s face in a rather tight grip was unnerving, if not completely unexpected. In an attempt to break her out of her thoughts, the colt spoke up. “Scootaloo mentioned…something to me…the other day about…it being about being…a big sister.” “Of course!” The exclamation came so suddenly that Peppermill found himself knocked backwards onto the floor. Before he could regain his composure, the mare was looming over him with a triumphant grin. “It’s about being the absolute bestest big sister in the history of big sisters! It’s so obvious!” “Obvious?” groaned the chef skeptically. “Ever since you became the youngest Apple, Applebloom has wanted nothing more than to be as good of an older sister to you as Applejack, right?” “Yes…” “And whenever she does anything she can’t stand to lose or fail or anything like that, right?” “She gets that…from Applejack…” “And,” Pinkie’s face turned into a sad smile, “she does end up not succeeding she tends to get really, really unhappy. Kind of like a certain colt I know…” “Oh…bother…” The realization of the truth hit the colt in the heart like a tenderizing mallet. He was well aware of his tendency to become upset with himself whenever he failed at something, and he also knew just how depressed Applebloom could get after a failed cutie mark crusade. “But…but she’s a great older sister. I mean…yes she can be…a bit over-protective at times…” “She is like that because she doesn’t want to see you get hurt. But…” “But…?” “It can be kind of tough when your younger sibling seems to be so good and you aren’t, you know? Like, how the little sister gets her cutie mark for making ponies happy but your older ones can’t seem to find theirs and then they get all angry and…what’s the word, resentful?” There was a genuine hurt behind the mare’s baby blue eyes which surprised the colt. Maybe Pinkie…does understand more…than she lets on… “I do know…how that is like. I know all…too well.” A sudden, horrifying thought caused the colt to throw off the mare and leap to his hooves. “No…no no no! I am not…going to have a…repeat of Saltpeter! I…I…” The colt’s frantic panic was silence emphatically by Pinkie pouncing on him once again, this time shoving a pink hoof firmly on his mouth. “No! Bad Peppy! Sit! Heel!” “Humph?” “Applebloom will never, ever be like your Meany McMeanpants brother. But getting upset isn’t going to help. You have to be calm and, well…mature. You are really good at that, just like you are really good at cooking. You of all ponies know that there is nothing a young pony wants more than anything is to be treated like a mature adult.” The mare carefully removed her hoof, ready to practically lie on top of the colt to keep him from over-reacting again. But she didn’t need to worry, for Peppermill’s face took on a serious cast. “I understand now…I know what I have…to do. Thank you Pinkie…” “You are very welcome Peppy.” The colt picked himself up off of the floor, took a cleansing breath, and left the mare’s room. For a while there was silence as Pinkie seemingly stared off into space. Then she brightened up as she faced Gummy. “That’s a super duper fabulous idea Gummy! I really should write a letter home and tell Inky and Blinky how much I appreciate them!” *** Meanwhile… “Are you really sure about this Applebloom? It would be a whole lot smarter to start off with something considerably less spicy…” “Nothing doin’ Silver Spoon. Ah aims ta try the hottest ya got. Ahm gonna prove to Peppermill I ken take it.” The two very different young fillies sat in the extravagant bedroom of the daughter of the second richest family in Ponyville. Silver Spoon, having been enlisted against her better judgement into the Apple filly’s personal quest to toughen up her tummy, looked decidedly nervous. The grey filly knew fully well why she had been approached by Applebloom, and it wasn’t entirely because it involved her close friend Peppermill. Silver Spoon was considered by more and more ponies as a gourmet prodigy, and her incredible sense of taste was steadily becoming more and more respected. She was probably the only other pony in the vicinity next to the Apple colt that had experience with more…exotic foods. “I just want to be on record as saying I am totally against this.” reminded Silver Spoon of her friend for perhaps the sixth time that afternoon. Having spent most of her young life actively trying new and different foods, most not typically consumed by a herbivore, she knew fully well it took years to develop the stomach for them. But Applebloom, as always, had little patience for that sort of thing. And just because she had the prodigious strength to out-buck (and outfight) any other pony her age, colt or filly, didn’t acquaint to a strong constitution food-wise. Even so, Applebloom had decided to try and deal with her food issues from a different direction, namely in regards to spice and heat. Most ponies tended to be adverse to hot and spicy foods, yet Peppermill and Silver Spoon (and even Pinkie Pie) seemed to be able to handle all sorts of fancy peppers that tended to be shipped from other parts of Equestria. And as much as Silver Spoon had begged and pleaded for the yellow filly to start off easy, the infamous Apple stubbornness and Applebloom`s natural impatience had her going to the top of the Scoville scale right off the bat. “All right Applebloom. This is what we call a Serrano pepper. For all intents and purposes this is a middle-of-the-road hot pepper. This is the only one I am willing to let you try, and no amount of threats is going to change that.” The grey filly motioned to a mound of long, red peppers sitting on a expensive-looking (naturally) dish. “Ah remember Peppermill telling me that the smaller the pepper, the hotter it is, right?” “That is true. There are smaller and hotter peppers than this. You also have to understand that the heat comes from the white seeds and other stuff inside the pepper itself. The red part is actually quite tasty.” “Ah ain’t here fer taste, ahm here fer heat. Hoof it over…” With a sigh, Silver Spoon gently pushed the plate of peppers to the yellow filly. For a long moment Applebloom studied her vegetable adversary. Then, to Silver’s surprise she grabbed one by its stem between her forehooves and held it over her head. “I hope you don’t think that Peppermill’s sardine system is going to work with peppers.” the wealthy filly quipped. “Shush! Ahm tryin’ to concentrate.” Silver clamped her mouth shut and watched at the pepper hung over Applebloom’s head almost ominously. …and waited… …and waited… … … … “It’s going to stay just as hot no matter how long you wait…” “Ah…cain’t…do it.” With a growl the Apple filly slammed the pepper down onto the table. It wasn’t so much the pulped pepper that drew a bead of sweat down Silver’s neck as it was the very noticeable crack in the solid wooden surface of the table under the yellow filly’s hoof. I suppose I should be glad it was the pepper and not my head… she thought nervously. The silence in the room, as Applebloom trembled put Silver’s teeth on edge. It was only when Applebloom’s withers finally slumped down and a look of utter defeat on her face struck the filly hard. “Ahm…ahm sorry fer getting’ you into this Silver. And, ahm sorry about the mess…and the table ah guess…” The sorrow in the filly’s eyes was far more distressing than any amount of rage, and Silver wanted in the worst way to try and comfort her friend. But before she could do so the apple pony trudged out of the room. “Oh Applebloom…” Chapter Four“Of course when…I actually need to…see Applebloom she…takes off to Celestia…knows where…” As soon as Peppermill had left Sugarcube Corner in search for his red-maned sister, he discovered that there seemed to be no sign of her. No sign, that is, until he caught up with a distressed Silver Spoon who had told him of the hot pepper incident at her mansion. “I’ve never seen her seem so…defeated. She really needs somepony to talk to.” With those words echoing in his head, the chef went for the one place he counted his sibling to go when she was upset: home. Sure enough, once he reached Sweet Apple Acres and raced up to the second floor where the bedrooms sat, he found a sorry sight indeed. Normally Peppermill would never enter one of his elder sibling’s bedrooms without explicit permission, or at the very least knocking first. But given that Applebloom’s door was wide open and the overpowering sense of despair coming from inside it made him shiver in dread, he decided politeness could be excused just this once. Inside the small but functional room was a bed, and on said bed with her back to the doorway was Applebloom. Her body language screamed sorrow, and Peppermill felt it like a stab in the heart even though he knew he wasn’t completely at fault. He approached the bed, and gently tugged at his sister’s mane. “Applebloom? Are you…feeling ok? Is your stomach…feeling all right?” “…” “Applebloom?” “…” “Applebloom Apple, if you…don’t turn around and…face me this instant…Celestia help me…I will get Twilight Sparkle…to remove any memory…of how to make apple soup…from my mind!” It was a hollow threat at best, though the colt was counting on the idea of being denied her absolute favorite meal would cut through her misery. “You ain’t gonna do that.” “Bother…I’ve never…been any good…at threats…” Despite having his bluff called, the filly still slowly rolled over to face her little brother. She looked like she wanted to cry, but she simply couldn’t manage to squeeze a tear out. Her usual boundless energy was gone, replaced by a listlessness that was almost enough to make the colt cry enough for the both of them. “Ah don’t know why you’d want to be seen with me. Ah ain’t even worth callin’ myself an Apple…” The uncharacteristic defeat in her voice caused a couple more stabs of sympathy in the colt. Do I ever…get this depressed when…I don’t succeed at something? “Applebloom…please don’t beat…yourself over this.” pleaded Peppermill. The filly gave a massive sigh and sat up on the bed, looking down at her little brother sadly. “Why not? I reckon it’s the only thing ahm good at. I can’t get a cutie mark, ah cain’t be a good big sister and ah cain’t even stomach the same food you can. Ahm just a big failure…” The self-pity party the apple filly was having was stopped emphatically when the colt reached up and pulled her face down to his own. Applebloom gave a genuine gasp of surprise as she gazed into Peppermill blazing dark eyes. “Don’t you ever, ever say that about yourself!” The fact that his impassioned plea came out not in his usual breathy rasp but a firm near baritone worthy of her older brother Big Macintosh stunned the filly into silence. “Applebloom, every day…I watch you go about…your life and…every day you never cease…to amaze me. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo…would follow you to…the ends of Equestria. You are so…incredibly strong not…just in your body but in…your confidence and mind. You were…willing to take in a perfect…stranger not just into…your home but your own…family. I can’t think of…any other pony, young or old…filly or colt that…could do that. You are a lot of…things but a failure…you are most certainly are not.” “B-but…” was all that the filly could manage, utterly dumbfounded by the emotion pouring out of Peppermill. “There are…no buts Applebloom. So what if…you haven’t discovered your…special talent? So what if…you are not…allowed to cook anything without…an adult pony watching? So what if…I can eat and drink…stuff you can’t stomach? There are…so many other things that…come so easily to you…that I can only dream…of trying.” “Hmmm…” Applebloom’s bottom lip began to tremble, overcome with the incredible love being poured out at her by the grey colt. “Until I came…to Sweet Apple Acres…all I knew about being a…little brother was…basically doing what Saltpeter told me…without question. But now I suddenly have…sisters to deal with. And while…I know I won’t always understand…what makes a filly or mare’s minds…tick I…well…” The slight faltering of the colt’s fiery speech caused Applebloom to tilt her head despite still being under the grip of her brother’s hooves. “I like…having sisters. Even older ones…Even ones who...at times probably...should have a cutie mark...for driving me crazy....” “Ah just don’t want to see you get hurt again…” “I know…I know…” the colt sighed. He finally released his hold (mostly because his forelegs were beginning to cramp up) and looked at his sister with unabashed fondness. “I don’t like…seeing you sad. If it means not…having sardines or…wine or stuff like that…I’ll give them all up if…you’ll stop being…so hard on yourself.” “…no. Ah…ah don’t want you to do that.” Applebloom’s eyes began to tear up again, but the sadness from moments earlier had been replaced with resignation and rueful acceptance. “Ifin you lahk that stuff so much I won’t make you give them up. And…and ahm sorry if I worried you. Ah guess you an’ me are a lot more alike than I thought. Ah guess we kinda both don’t like to fail at stuff.” “No, we don’t.” agreed Peppermill. “Do you remember the first tahm you and me laid eyes on one another?” The rather odd change in topic surprised the colt but he looked thoughtful for a few moments. As the memory came back to him, Applebloom spoke again. “It wuz not long after AJ an’ Big Mac had found you hurt out in the far fields. Ah had just came back from school to find find ya sitting on the couch looking like the world wuz out to getcha.” Peppermill nodded, the rather painful memories or his first few days with the Apple clan after the traumatic upheaval in his life thanks to his evil older brother coming back to him. “I swear on every apple ever grown on this farm that the first thing that crossed mah mind when I saw you wuz: whoever did this to that fella is going to pay. From…from the moment I first met you I wanted to protect you. Ah cain’t explain to you why I felt that way. I…just did. I ain’t never felt that way about anypony, not even Applejack or Big Mac or Granny…just you.” “I…I honestly had no idea…” Peppermill was utterly stunned by this admission. He knew, and still to this day, was amazed at just how quickly and completely the Apple clan had taken him into their family. But hearing the youngest of them at that time state it so plainly and, well, honestly was thunderous to say the least. What the little filly said next brought the colt to genuine tears. “Ah guess…ah guess you could say that loved ya the moment I saw ya. And when you ended up becoming mah little brother at the end of it all, well ah loved ya even more. Ah love you so much ah guess ahm willin’ to make a dang foal outta myself trying to prove mahself to ya.” “You know…my birth parents…always used to tell me they…loved me all the time. I figured out pretty quickly…that you Apples tend…to let your actions speak…more than your words. But having you actually…say those simple words to me…that means more to me…than anything right now.” By now both young ponies were freely crying, but there was not a sliver of sadness behind the tears. Peppermill didn’t think of himself as an emotional pony, but this was far too much to take. He gave a big sniff and continued. “Applebloom…I give you my word…that you never, ever have to…try and prove anything to me. You are my sister…and I will always love you…no matter what happens. Even if you and…me end up as old as Granny Smith I…will still consider you the best older…sister I ever had. Well…maybe tied for first with Applejack.” “And ah’ll always be proud of the best little brother a filly could ever ask fer…even if you eat weird stuff.” That simple little joke broke the tension in the room as the filly pounced at her brother from her bed and the two embraced tightly. In the end her forward momentum resulted in the two of them rolling on the floor, her on top of him and the both of them laughing. “I think I…like this rather than…Pinkie Pie on top of me…” chuckled Peppermill. “Pinkie Pah? On top of you? Wut are you talkin’ about?” “I’ll tell…you later. Please get off…of me, you…are a lot heavier…than you look.” The filly giggled and backed away to let her brother sit up. Just then… *gurgle* “Oohh…” Applebloom winced and put a hoof to her stomach. “Ah reckon ahm still feelin’ the effect of all those crazy foods. Ah swear if that is how fancy ponies eat ah’ll stick to good country cookin’ any day.” “I happen to know…that ginger ale is…good for stomach aches.” smiled Peppermill. “And I know…we have some…in the cellar…” “Finally, something ah know I can drink without losin’ mah lunch.” “And I’ll even…put it in….a wine glass for you. It…will be just like champagne.” “Sham…wut?” “I’ll explain…” Author's Note It's a love-fest!! But seriously I like giving both Peppermill and Applebloom the same 'hate to fail' personality quirk. If anything it is my way of putting some of me into my characters.
Chapter OneHaving been an Apple pony for a while now, Peppermill had managed to learn quite a few things he would have never had in Canterlot. He knew that he had no right to even think about trying to buck apples like Big Macintosh or Applejack. He learned just how far he could tease Applebloom before he had to apologize and/or make a run for safety. He knew just when to pay rapt attention to Granny Smith’s ramblings and when he could afford to let his mind wander. He also had, by this point, a fairly good idea of what foods tended to make a good impression at the Apple dinner table. While the little cook appreciated and took to heart any and all new techniques, recipes and so on he could not forget his roots. Home-style cooking was all well and good, but he always felt more comfortable when preparing more…upper class fare. Despite the insistence, bordering on complaints, that they didn’t care for ‘fancy vittles’ the grey Earth colt could tell he was slowly but surely winning them over. Because of this, it meant that Peppermill could occasionally go all out with a feast fit for a princess and maybe seen only in a high-end eatery in Canterlot or even the Crystal Kingdom. He was determined to prove, if at the very least to the notoriously picky Applejack, that high-class food could be just a fulfilling and tasty as country cooking. And if it meant he could shake off any rust in his memory or skill set then he was doubly intent to do a good job. This was the scenario the colt was facing as he busied himself one late afternoon in the kitchen of Sweet Apple Acres. He had been given after a generous amount of begging, promises and debts to be named later permission to make whatever he wanted for the evening meal. And Peppermill had decided that he was going to go for the gusto, searching his memory for every detail he could recall from his previous life at his parent’s restaurant. Thanks to a bit of help from some of his older friends and a bit of scrounging he was able to arrange for a full-blown five course meal. He was even able to set up the big table the family ate at just like a setting back at the restaurant. He had polished silverware, folded napkins, spread a tablecloth and even managed to borrow a candleholder from Rarity. Despite all of the hard work and continuous offers of assistance from his elder siblings Peppermill had insisted on doing it all himself. And in the end he felt he had done a pretty impressive job, if he did say so himself. So impressive was all the work he had put into the dining experience he intended for his surrogate family, they felt it only fair to go all out themselves. It amused the little chef to no end when he found his grandmother, elder brother and elder sisters waiting patiently in the living room to be seated. All of them to a pony were in as formal of clothes as her had ever seen them. Between Big Macintosh’s collar and tie and the dresses his female family members were wearing it brought back powerful memories of patrons waiting patiently to be seated. “Apple party for…five?” asked Peppermill, his voice light with mirth. “Eyup.” Big Macintosh spoke for the family, a bemused look on his face. He wasn’t the kind of pony one might have expected to be willing to ‘play along’ as it were, but whatever made his little brother happy… “This way…please…” Peppermill led the way to where he had managed to maneuver the dining table so there would be room for all five of them. It meant having the piece of furniture straddling the kitchen and the living room, but it was a small price to pay. Appreciative murmurs were made as Peppermill pulled out and seated each of his family members. “Land sakes. This brings back all sorts of memories sugar cube.” remarked Applejack. “I reckon Aunt and Uncle Orange couldn’t have done better…” “Ah don’t think ahv seen anything so fancy in mah life.” agreed Applebloom. “I reckon you put a lot of work into this sugar britches.” smiled Granny Smith. “It is mighty impressive.” nodded Big Mac. “Ah cain’t wait ta see wut you got planned fer the meal.” “Well, I admit…it was a bit of…work to remember every detail. But…I am pretty sure this…was a common five course….special that we used…to offer. I had to…make a few…substitutions but…you are going to experience…a true Aperitif/Digestif classic.” explained Peppermill. “So wut exactly is a five course meal? Do ya mean five different things?” asked Applebloom. “An appetizer…a soup…a salad, followed by the…main course and a dessert.” explained the colt. “Don’t worry if…it sounds like too much food. Most of…the starting stuff is…quite small.” “Golly…” As the young filly absorbed this information, the colt went to the kitchen counter where a large colored glass bottle sat. He removed the already loosened cork from the top and carefully carried it to the table. “Shall I pour…some wine for everypony?” With impressive dexterity for having hooves, Peppermill managed to carefully pour a small amount of the fermented beverage in four long stemmed glasses around the table. As he went around the table, you could sense excitement radiating off of Applebloom. This was quite possibly the most grown-up thing she had ever taken part in, and she wanted in the worst way to show how mature she was. When her little brother reached her glass however, he promptly stopped pouring and placed the now half-empty bottle onto the table. “Ahem…” The little filly cleared her throat and gave Peppermill a very pointed look, her gaze going from him to her empty glass and then to the wine bottle. The colt looked at her in surprise. “Are you…implying something Applebloom?” queried Peppermill. “Don’t ah get some of that stuff too?” she asked. “I’m not sure…if I like the idea…of letting you have any wine…” Immediately after he said this, the colt knew he made a regrettable mistake. He had learned quite quickly that one of the things that really brought out the worst in the red-maned filly was trying to tell her she shouldn’t do or try something. Sure enough, her face twisted into an angry scowl. “Oh, so it is okay fer you to have that stuff but it ain’t okay fer me?” “Have you ever…had wine before, Applebloom?” questioned Peppermill further. “Ah reckon not, unless she ain’t been honest with us.” responded Applejack emphatically. “Oh, and ah suppose you’ve drank that stuff yerself.” Applebloom ignored her sister, her ire solely on the grey colt. “I’ve had…a glass or two…in the past.” admitted Peppermill, beginning to feel a bit of annoyance at all the venom directed at him by Applebloom. This revelation proved to be a surprise to his family, who all looked at one another. “Ah reckon your maw and pa were around to watch over ya…” said Big Macintosh, to which Peppermill nodded his agreement. “Eh, a little of the hard stuff ain’t gonna kill ya. Of course, this is wine we are talkin’ about.” commented Granny Smith, deciding to add her two bits to the conversation. “ Ifin you young’uns were to try some of Granny’s…er…special tonic ah would hafta take a willow switch to ya. And don’t think yer too old fer that, cause ya ain’t.” “Ifin Peppermill can drink wine, ah get to!” Peppermill looked desperately to his elder siblings and grandmother for help. But all he got was shrugs and apologetic looks, for they knew as well as he did that Apple stubbornness was almost legendary. “All right Applebloom…if you really want some.” With a resigned shake of his head the colt poured only half as much of the alcoholic beverage as he did for the others in the glass in front of the red-head. As he made his way to serve the appetizer course Applebloom picked up the glass carefully by the stem between her forehooves and peered into the deep red depths. “Doesn’t smell all that good if ya ask me.” she murmured. “But if this is wut all the fancy adult ponies drink…” She immediately tipped the glass back and drained the contents in one gulp, to the shock of the assorted ponies. “Hoo boy, this is gonna get ugly…” Applejack was already grabbing a napkin, while Peppermill raced to his sister’s side. “You don’t just…chug down wine! You sip it!” he scolded her. But the damage, so to speak, was already done. The filly’s face went as red as her mane, her cheeks began to bulge out and she leapt clear across and over the table and into the kitchen. The fact that she managed not to upset a single glass or plate was dimmed slightly by the retching and spitting noises coming from the other room. “Huh, it didn’t seem that bad ta me…” muttered Granny, sniffing at her own beverage. “Oh…bother…” groaned Peppermill. Author's Note I'm not a wine drinker at all, so I emphasize with AB...:P
Chapter TwoNormally whenever Applebloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo got together their days were spent pondering what kind of cutie marks an Earth, Pegasus and unicorn filly might want. That would be followed by a misadventure that usually resulted in no cutie mark and some sort of mess to clean up. Even so, they would not be deterred from comparing notes and looking forward to another day and another chance at gaining their marks. But not today… Today found the young Apple pony lying in one corner of the Cutie Mark Crusader Clubhouse on her back, with a cool cloth draped over her face and all sorts of miserable sounds of self-pity being heard from her. A little ways away, at a small table sat her two best friends and fellow Crusaders trying (and failing) to ignore her misery. “So, what do you think it was this time?” asked Sweetie Belle, chin in her hooves and trying not to look at her prone friend. “I mean, this is like the third time in two weeks she’s been complaining about something Peppermill fed her.” “Who knows…” grumbled Scootaloo. “All I know is that she can’t possibly be as hurt as she is acting. Applebloom has a cast iron bottomless pit for a stomach.” “Urgh…” was the pitiful wail from the corner. “You don’t suppose Peppermill is doing all of this on purpose, do you?” “Nah. He isn’t the type. Chances are Applebloom probably demanded he do it.” “Cain’t you girls see ahm sufferin’ over here?” Applebloom snapped, lifting the cloth off of her face long enough to glare daggers at the other fillies. “Maybe if you told us what you ate that is hurting you so much we would know how to make you feel better.” explained Sweetie. “Ugh, ah don’t wanna think about it.” Applebloom rolled onto her side, her back to her friends, and muttered darkly to herself. “Well then don’t expect any sympathy from me. If you aren’t up for crusading then I’m going to go and hang out with Rainbow Dash.” snorted Scootaloo. “Don’t go…please…” came a sad request from the corner. “It was…” “Yes?” “Was…” “Yes?!” *** A few hours earlier… “Are you…really sure you want…to go through with this?” This was the unhappy question posed by the grey Earth colt to his female sibling as she sat at the kitchen table with a ferocious scowl on her face. “Ahm sure.” The pure intensity of the filly’s glare at the object in the center of the table made Peppermill wonder if he shouldn’t just make a run for it. But he also knew that there was no way he could out-run Applebloom, especially in the mood she was in. Ever since her adverse reaction to the glass of wine a few nights earlier, Applebloom had fallen into a foul mood. Peppermill attempted to explain how having been raised in a restaurant meant he had access to foods some ponies didn’t like high end wine. As well, because his father believed in catering to any and all patron regardless of species, it meant the colt had the unique opportunity to experience food that most herbivores with flatly run away from. Just because he could handle this sort of thing and she couldn’t didn’t make him any better than her. The apple filly did not buy this one bit. As a result, she had begun a single-minded crusade (outside of cutie marks) to prove to herself and her little brother that anything he could do, she could do just as well. Peppermill, much to his dismay, found himself searching back into his memories of the various meals that had been a staple of his family’s establishment to see what he could offer the filly to try. No matter what he found, and no matter how tame it seemed to him poor Applebloom simply could not stomach any of it. Today Peppermill had decided to try and simply scare his sister into forgetting about this desire to toughen her tummy to exotic cuisine. He came up with what he felt would be something even Applebloom would refuse to try. It took a bit of work and some promises to a certain grey filly with impressive gourmet tastes herself to procure this tidbit, but he hoped and prayed to Celestia and Luna that it would do the trick. “Have you ever…heard of Caesar salad?” asked Peppermill of his sister. She took her burning gaze from the object of her ire long enough to glare right in the colt’s dark eyes and shake her head in the negative. “It’s a special salad…found all over Equestria. Nopony remembers…who this ‘Caesar’ pony might…have been but this…dish was named for him.” “Huh, that don’t look lahk any salad I’ve ever seen…” “While there are…many variations of…this salad, there is only…one true recipe that…any chef worth their salt…would follow to be…authentic. The proper…version of it contains…greens, cheese…egg…” “Ahv had eggs before, thought they ain't mah favorite...” “And these…” Peppermill motioned to the object in the center of the kitchen table. Applebloom stared with intensity and perhaps just a hint of trepidation at the container before her. It was, for all purposes, a small metal can. It had rounded corners and a metal key placed at one end, which appeared to be for the purpose of peeling off the lid and revealing its contents. With a resigned sigh, the colt reached over and slowly turned the key over and over. … … … “Hrmm…” The noise from Applebloom’s throat was a pretty solid indicator to the colt that this was going to get interesting in a hurry. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest that it was a direct result of the pungent aroma wafting from the can as he opened it up fully. The filly began to chew her bottom lip anxiously as she peered into the can at… “Fish? Ya gotta be kidding me!” “Actually they…are called sardines. But you…have the right idea.” “Why would any pony in their right mind eat a salad with a fish in it?” “Few ponies actually…know about sardines being…a part of the…traditional recipe. In fact I think…my father was probably the only…chef in Canterlot that…put them in it. Of course…he always made sure…not to mention it too often. Believe me Applebloom…the difference between this salad…with and without sardines…is very noticeable.” “And yer tellin’ me you actually…eat…those things?” Applebloom’s face began to take on a slightly green hue, a stark contrast from her yellow coat. “I’ve been known…to crave the occasional one or…three.” Deciding the time was right to go for the proverbial knockout blow, Peppermill began his ritual. It was completely true that the colt had eaten sardines in the past, and while they were most certainly an acquired taste for an herbivore, he genuinely liked them in small numbers. He had developed a unique eating style that was as much for show as it was for consumption. The grey colt carefully grasped one of the tiny fish by the tail between his forehooves and lifted it high above his head. Applebloom’s amber gaze was locked on the tiny creature as Peppermill tilted his head back, opened his mouth, and… *plop* *gulp* …down it went. He chewed for a moment, savouring the salty oil that the sardine was packed in, and then swallowed. The entire time Applebloom could only stare in growing horror at what her little brother was doing. Finally the colt gave the filly a satisfied smile. “This particular…brand is always…very good.” For a long few moments there was absolute silence in the room as Applebloom looked at Peppermill, then to the can of sardines, then back at him. The apple filly seemed to shake with unbridled rage, then she lunged for the can, grabbed a sardine between her forehooves… …held it over her head… …the sardine swayed in her grip… …a single drop of oil glistening on the end of the fish’s head caught the colt’s eye… …she opened her mouth… …the drop of oil fell… … … … “YEARGH!!!” *** “Ah tossed that dang fish across the room and ran fer the bathroom. By the tahm my stomach stopped flippin’ out Peppermill and those *shudder* sardines were gone.” Applebloom, having been forced to relieve her traumatic experience, laid back down with the cloth back on her face and a forehoof rubbing her agitated stomach. “That’s probably the grossest thing I have ever heard.” remarked Sweetie Belle with a shudder of her own. “All it took was one drop of…whatever those fish were covered in and you are still suffering?” quipped a skeptical Scootaloo. “Are you sure you aren’t just looking for sympathy because you found something else that Peppermill can eat that you can’t?” “You’re supposed ta be mah friends. You’re supposed to feel sorry fer me…” answered a sullen Applebloom. “Not when you brought all of this on yourself.” The Pegasus filly stomped over to where Applebloom lay, and frowned down at her. “You aren’t telling us everything. There has to be more to it than just what you can’t stomach.” “You wouldn’t understand…you are an only pony.” was the rather dour answer. “I’m not an only pony. Maybe I can understand.” offered Sweetie hopefully. “But you ain’t an older sister!” snapped Applebloom, who suddenly sat up and tossed the cloth against the wall. “You jus’ cain’t understand. Just…just leave me alone.” With that the Apple filly stormed out of the clubhouse leaving Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo to watch in dismay and confusion. Author's Note I have been wanting to write that 'sardine scene' for such a long time. And so help me I love writing dialogue for Applejack/Applebloom (even is the spell check doesn't :)
Chapter Three“More tea Mr. Peppermill?” Pinkie Pie, in a top hat and monocle, waved the teapot in front of the sullen colt. Peppermill, in a derby (not by his own choice, but having to follow the apparent formal dress rule enforced by the Element of Laughter) sighed. “Yes…please…” The grey chef watched as the pink mare poured him a measure of green tea into his cup. He glanced around Pinkie’s bedroom, the place he had been spending a considerable amount of time lately. This was due to the fact that it proved to be the one place where Applebloom could not seem to find him. Whether it was because she didn’t think Peppermill would hide in such a random place or that she simply wasn’t trying that hard was unimportant. All Peppermill needed right now was time to think about the problem at hoof. Of course when you found yourself surrounded by inanimate objects plus one baby alligator having green tea and ginger snap cookies with a certified party animal, trying to focus was rather trying… “Was it…something I said? I’m positive I…didn’t say anything…like I was better than her…” Peppermill had found that for the last few days he had been spending with Pinkie Pie that she seemed content to let him vent his frustrations rather than offer advice. In truth, the mare seemed more interested in having small talk with the other ‘guests’ around the table. “It’s always sad when brothers and sister fight, isn’t it Rocky?” questioned Pinkie of a small pile of stones with a party hat on top. “Yeah, it’s a cryin’ shame.” The fact that Pinkie was nudging the pile, performing a rather questionable ventriloquist act and using an accent that reminded the colt of his cousin Babs Seed was devoutly ignored. Peppermill had seen and heard enough about his eccentric friend not to be completely freaked out by it. At least her…mane isn’t all flat like…how Rainbow warned me about… “It’s not my fault…I am used to…strange foods. Well, strange…for a pony at…any rate.” “You mean like zee hot sauce on zee cupcakes mon petite?” questioned Madam Le Flour. “No, I think…even I wouldn’t be able…to deal with that.” Peppermill took a half-hearted nibble of his cookie. Not even his favorite Pinkie Pie baked good could shake him from his gloom. Pinkie, who had been staring at the colt for a few moments, suddenly gave a big sigh. She removed her top hat and monocle, placed her forehooves onto either side of the colt’s face and stared hard into his face. “Peppy, I know that there is nothing you could ever do to make Applebloom hate you.” “Well, then…what exactly is making her…bring all this suffering…on herself?” demanded the colt. “Hmm…” For a few seconds, Pinkie’s face went blank in thoughts. The fact that she continued to hold the colt’s face in a rather tight grip was unnerving, if not completely unexpected. In an attempt to break her out of her thoughts, the colt spoke up. “Scootaloo mentioned…something to me…the other day about…it being about being…a big sister.” “Of course!” The exclamation came so suddenly that Peppermill found himself knocked backwards onto the floor. Before he could regain his composure, the mare was looming over him with a triumphant grin. “It’s about being the absolute bestest big sister in the history of big sisters! It’s so obvious!” “Obvious?” groaned the chef skeptically. “Ever since you became the youngest Apple, Applebloom has wanted nothing more than to be as good of an older sister to you as Applejack, right?” “Yes…” “And whenever she does anything she can’t stand to lose or fail or anything like that, right?” “She gets that…from Applejack…” “And,” Pinkie’s face turned into a sad smile, “she does end up not succeeding she tends to get really, really unhappy. Kind of like a certain colt I know…” “Oh…bother…” The realization of the truth hit the colt in the heart like a tenderizing mallet. He was well aware of his tendency to become upset with himself whenever he failed at something, and he also knew just how depressed Applebloom could get after a failed cutie mark crusade. “But…but she’s a great older sister. I mean…yes she can be…a bit over-protective at times…” “She is like that because she doesn’t want to see you get hurt. But…” “But…?” “It can be kind of tough when your younger sibling seems to be so good and you aren’t, you know? Like, how the little sister gets her cutie mark for making ponies happy but your older ones can’t seem to find theirs and then they get all angry and…what’s the word, resentful?” There was a genuine hurt behind the mare’s baby blue eyes which surprised the colt. Maybe Pinkie…does understand more…than she lets on… “I do know…how that is like. I know all…too well.” A sudden, horrifying thought caused the colt to throw off the mare and leap to his hooves. “No…no no no! I am not…going to have a…repeat of Saltpeter! I…I…” The colt’s frantic panic was silence emphatically by Pinkie pouncing on him once again, this time shoving a pink hoof firmly on his mouth. “No! Bad Peppy! Sit! Heel!” “Humph?” “Applebloom will never, ever be like your Meany McMeanpants brother. But getting upset isn’t going to help. You have to be calm and, well…mature. You are really good at that, just like you are really good at cooking. You of all ponies know that there is nothing a young pony wants more than anything is to be treated like a mature adult.” The mare carefully removed her hoof, ready to practically lie on top of the colt to keep him from over-reacting again. But she didn’t need to worry, for Peppermill’s face took on a serious cast. “I understand now…I know what I have…to do. Thank you Pinkie…” “You are very welcome Peppy.” The colt picked himself up off of the floor, took a cleansing breath, and left the mare’s room. For a while there was silence as Pinkie seemingly stared off into space. Then she brightened up as she faced Gummy. “That’s a super duper fabulous idea Gummy! I really should write a letter home and tell Inky and Blinky how much I appreciate them!” *** Meanwhile… “Are you really sure about this Applebloom? It would be a whole lot smarter to start off with something considerably less spicy…” “Nothing doin’ Silver Spoon. Ah aims ta try the hottest ya got. Ahm gonna prove to Peppermill I ken take it.” The two very different young fillies sat in the extravagant bedroom of the daughter of the second richest family in Ponyville. Silver Spoon, having been enlisted against her better judgement into the Apple filly’s personal quest to toughen up her tummy, looked decidedly nervous. The grey filly knew fully well why she had been approached by Applebloom, and it wasn’t entirely because it involved her close friend Peppermill. Silver Spoon was considered by more and more ponies as a gourmet prodigy, and her incredible sense of taste was steadily becoming more and more respected. She was probably the only other pony in the vicinity next to the Apple colt that had experience with more…exotic foods. “I just want to be on record as saying I am totally against this.” reminded Silver Spoon of her friend for perhaps the sixth time that afternoon. Having spent most of her young life actively trying new and different foods, most not typically consumed by a herbivore, she knew fully well it took years to develop the stomach for them. But Applebloom, as always, had little patience for that sort of thing. And just because she had the prodigious strength to out-buck (and outfight) any other pony her age, colt or filly, didn’t acquaint to a strong constitution food-wise. Even so, Applebloom had decided to try and deal with her food issues from a different direction, namely in regards to spice and heat. Most ponies tended to be adverse to hot and spicy foods, yet Peppermill and Silver Spoon (and even Pinkie Pie) seemed to be able to handle all sorts of fancy peppers that tended to be shipped from other parts of Equestria. And as much as Silver Spoon had begged and pleaded for the yellow filly to start off easy, the infamous Apple stubbornness and Applebloom`s natural impatience had her going to the top of the Scoville scale right off the bat. “All right Applebloom. This is what we call a Serrano pepper. For all intents and purposes this is a middle-of-the-road hot pepper. This is the only one I am willing to let you try, and no amount of threats is going to change that.” The grey filly motioned to a mound of long, red peppers sitting on a expensive-looking (naturally) dish. “Ah remember Peppermill telling me that the smaller the pepper, the hotter it is, right?” “That is true. There are smaller and hotter peppers than this. You also have to understand that the heat comes from the white seeds and other stuff inside the pepper itself. The red part is actually quite tasty.” “Ah ain’t here fer taste, ahm here fer heat. Hoof it over…” With a sigh, Silver Spoon gently pushed the plate of peppers to the yellow filly. For a long moment Applebloom studied her vegetable adversary. Then, to Silver’s surprise she grabbed one by its stem between her forehooves and held it over her head. “I hope you don’t think that Peppermill’s sardine system is going to work with peppers.” the wealthy filly quipped. “Shush! Ahm tryin’ to concentrate.” Silver clamped her mouth shut and watched at the pepper hung over Applebloom’s head almost ominously. …and waited… …and waited… … … … “It’s going to stay just as hot no matter how long you wait…” “Ah…cain’t…do it.” With a growl the Apple filly slammed the pepper down onto the table. It wasn’t so much the pulped pepper that drew a bead of sweat down Silver’s neck as it was the very noticeable crack in the solid wooden surface of the table under the yellow filly’s hoof. I suppose I should be glad it was the pepper and not my head… she thought nervously. The silence in the room, as Applebloom trembled put Silver’s teeth on edge. It was only when Applebloom’s withers finally slumped down and a look of utter defeat on her face struck the filly hard. “Ahm…ahm sorry fer getting’ you into this Silver. And, ahm sorry about the mess…and the table ah guess…” The sorrow in the filly’s eyes was far more distressing than any amount of rage, and Silver wanted in the worst way to try and comfort her friend. But before she could do so the apple pony trudged out of the room. “Oh Applebloom…”
Chapter Four“Of course when…I actually need to…see Applebloom she…takes off to Celestia…knows where…” As soon as Peppermill had left Sugarcube Corner in search for his red-maned sister, he discovered that there seemed to be no sign of her. No sign, that is, until he caught up with a distressed Silver Spoon who had told him of the hot pepper incident at her mansion. “I’ve never seen her seem so…defeated. She really needs somepony to talk to.” With those words echoing in his head, the chef went for the one place he counted his sibling to go when she was upset: home. Sure enough, once he reached Sweet Apple Acres and raced up to the second floor where the bedrooms sat, he found a sorry sight indeed. Normally Peppermill would never enter one of his elder sibling’s bedrooms without explicit permission, or at the very least knocking first. But given that Applebloom’s door was wide open and the overpowering sense of despair coming from inside it made him shiver in dread, he decided politeness could be excused just this once. Inside the small but functional room was a bed, and on said bed with her back to the doorway was Applebloom. Her body language screamed sorrow, and Peppermill felt it like a stab in the heart even though he knew he wasn’t completely at fault. He approached the bed, and gently tugged at his sister’s mane. “Applebloom? Are you…feeling ok? Is your stomach…feeling all right?” “…” “Applebloom?” “…” “Applebloom Apple, if you…don’t turn around and…face me this instant…Celestia help me…I will get Twilight Sparkle…to remove any memory…of how to make apple soup…from my mind!” It was a hollow threat at best, though the colt was counting on the idea of being denied her absolute favorite meal would cut through her misery. “You ain’t gonna do that.” “Bother…I’ve never…been any good…at threats…” Despite having his bluff called, the filly still slowly rolled over to face her little brother. She looked like she wanted to cry, but she simply couldn’t manage to squeeze a tear out. Her usual boundless energy was gone, replaced by a listlessness that was almost enough to make the colt cry enough for the both of them. “Ah don’t know why you’d want to be seen with me. Ah ain’t even worth callin’ myself an Apple…” The uncharacteristic defeat in her voice caused a couple more stabs of sympathy in the colt. Do I ever…get this depressed when…I don’t succeed at something? “Applebloom…please don’t beat…yourself over this.” pleaded Peppermill. The filly gave a massive sigh and sat up on the bed, looking down at her little brother sadly. “Why not? I reckon it’s the only thing ahm good at. I can’t get a cutie mark, ah cain’t be a good big sister and ah cain’t even stomach the same food you can. Ahm just a big failure…” The self-pity party the apple filly was having was stopped emphatically when the colt reached up and pulled her face down to his own. Applebloom gave a genuine gasp of surprise as she gazed into Peppermill blazing dark eyes. “Don’t you ever, ever say that about yourself!” The fact that his impassioned plea came out not in his usual breathy rasp but a firm near baritone worthy of her older brother Big Macintosh stunned the filly into silence. “Applebloom, every day…I watch you go about…your life and…every day you never cease…to amaze me. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo…would follow you to…the ends of Equestria. You are so…incredibly strong not…just in your body but in…your confidence and mind. You were…willing to take in a perfect…stranger not just into…your home but your own…family. I can’t think of…any other pony, young or old…filly or colt that…could do that. You are a lot of…things but a failure…you are most certainly are not.” “B-but…” was all that the filly could manage, utterly dumbfounded by the emotion pouring out of Peppermill. “There are…no buts Applebloom. So what if…you haven’t discovered your…special talent? So what if…you are not…allowed to cook anything without…an adult pony watching? So what if…I can eat and drink…stuff you can’t stomach? There are…so many other things that…come so easily to you…that I can only dream…of trying.” “Hmmm…” Applebloom’s bottom lip began to tremble, overcome with the incredible love being poured out at her by the grey colt. “Until I came…to Sweet Apple Acres…all I knew about being a…little brother was…basically doing what Saltpeter told me…without question. But now I suddenly have…sisters to deal with. And while…I know I won’t always understand…what makes a filly or mare’s minds…tick I…well…” The slight faltering of the colt’s fiery speech caused Applebloom to tilt her head despite still being under the grip of her brother’s hooves. “I like…having sisters. Even older ones…Even ones who...at times probably...should have a cutie mark...for driving me crazy....” “Ah just don’t want to see you get hurt again…” “I know…I know…” the colt sighed. He finally released his hold (mostly because his forelegs were beginning to cramp up) and looked at his sister with unabashed fondness. “I don’t like…seeing you sad. If it means not…having sardines or…wine or stuff like that…I’ll give them all up if…you’ll stop being…so hard on yourself.” “…no. Ah…ah don’t want you to do that.” Applebloom’s eyes began to tear up again, but the sadness from moments earlier had been replaced with resignation and rueful acceptance. “Ifin you lahk that stuff so much I won’t make you give them up. And…and ahm sorry if I worried you. Ah guess you an’ me are a lot more alike than I thought. Ah guess we kinda both don’t like to fail at stuff.” “No, we don’t.” agreed Peppermill. “Do you remember the first tahm you and me laid eyes on one another?” The rather odd change in topic surprised the colt but he looked thoughtful for a few moments. As the memory came back to him, Applebloom spoke again. “It wuz not long after AJ an’ Big Mac had found you hurt out in the far fields. Ah had just came back from school to find find ya sitting on the couch looking like the world wuz out to getcha.” Peppermill nodded, the rather painful memories or his first few days with the Apple clan after the traumatic upheaval in his life thanks to his evil older brother coming back to him. “I swear on every apple ever grown on this farm that the first thing that crossed mah mind when I saw you wuz: whoever did this to that fella is going to pay. From…from the moment I first met you I wanted to protect you. Ah cain’t explain to you why I felt that way. I…just did. I ain’t never felt that way about anypony, not even Applejack or Big Mac or Granny…just you.” “I…I honestly had no idea…” Peppermill was utterly stunned by this admission. He knew, and still to this day, was amazed at just how quickly and completely the Apple clan had taken him into their family. But hearing the youngest of them at that time state it so plainly and, well, honestly was thunderous to say the least. What the little filly said next brought the colt to genuine tears. “Ah guess…ah guess you could say that loved ya the moment I saw ya. And when you ended up becoming mah little brother at the end of it all, well ah loved ya even more. Ah love you so much ah guess ahm willin’ to make a dang foal outta myself trying to prove mahself to ya.” “You know…my birth parents…always used to tell me they…loved me all the time. I figured out pretty quickly…that you Apples tend…to let your actions speak…more than your words. But having you actually…say those simple words to me…that means more to me…than anything right now.” By now both young ponies were freely crying, but there was not a sliver of sadness behind the tears. Peppermill didn’t think of himself as an emotional pony, but this was far too much to take. He gave a big sniff and continued. “Applebloom…I give you my word…that you never, ever have to…try and prove anything to me. You are my sister…and I will always love you…no matter what happens. Even if you and…me end up as old as Granny Smith I…will still consider you the best older…sister I ever had. Well…maybe tied for first with Applejack.” “And ah’ll always be proud of the best little brother a filly could ever ask fer…even if you eat weird stuff.” That simple little joke broke the tension in the room as the filly pounced at her brother from her bed and the two embraced tightly. In the end her forward momentum resulted in the two of them rolling on the floor, her on top of him and the both of them laughing. “I think I…like this rather than…Pinkie Pie on top of me…” chuckled Peppermill. “Pinkie Pah? On top of you? Wut are you talkin’ about?” “I’ll tell…you later. Please get off…of me, you…are a lot heavier…than you look.” The filly giggled and backed away to let her brother sit up. Just then… *gurgle* “Oohh…” Applebloom winced and put a hoof to her stomach. “Ah reckon ahm still feelin’ the effect of all those crazy foods. Ah swear if that is how fancy ponies eat ah’ll stick to good country cookin’ any day.” “I happen to know…that ginger ale is…good for stomach aches.” smiled Peppermill. “And I know…we have some…in the cellar…” “Finally, something ah know I can drink without losin’ mah lunch.” “And I’ll even…put it in….a wine glass for you. It…will be just like champagne.” “Sham…wut?” “I’ll explain…” Author's Note It's a love-fest!! But seriously I like giving both Peppermill and Applebloom the same 'hate to fail' personality quirk. If anything it is my way of putting some of me into my characters.
