Thirty years later…
Clearing away the last of the dishes seemed to take longer than usual, no, it did take longer than usual. I wasn’t going to lie to myself, I was old. Most stallions were lucky to see their fortieth year, and here I was looking upon fifty and three...when winter came. For now, that left me to try to enjoy the summer sun streaming in through the window as I put the plates away. One at a time, from the crude sink to a cabinet, as they had traveled countless thousands of times before.
That morning had been one of the simple joys of an old farmer. Ever since my younger son had gotten married, we’d had to put a second wing onto the old farmhouse. I could barely keep track of all the foals bouncing around and giggling as they made their way through the halls and rooms. While my sons toiled in my fields, and their wives took care of the children, it left me with little else to do but wait and enjoy their company.
When Ember passed away and left me a widower, it hadn’t been the end; life always found a way to go on. It had seen fit to bless us with two strong and healthy sons; who we had named Wild Oats and Bramble. Bramble’s wife, Clover, was a unicorn of all ponies. It still amazed me that love was powerful enough to convince her to come live here, out on a farm. Today, she was in the town, selling our spare produce on a cart, like any common mare. That left Morning Mist to take care of the foals and do the cooking. She always insisted it wasn’t my job, and that I should just rest. A chill wafted in from the outside, and I shivered. Maybe I’ll take her up on that for today.
“Grandpa grandpa!” I heard the high pitched voice just in time to brace myself before Garnet ran into my hind leg. She wrapped her legs around it and squeezed, causing me to gasp before I smiled over the shock.
“What is it, little filly?”
“Mama says I ha’ ta pick da the weeds out of da spinach!”
“Did she now?”
“Yeah! But tat’s not fair!”
She hugged me tighter, so I leaned over slowly and picked her up. Her yellow eyes framed against her namesake red coat pouted at me. “Why not?”
“‘Cause I wanna play!”
“Well now…what if I told you that the weeds could wait until later?” I sat her back down and started to open the top drawer.
“Can dey pweese?”
Inside was a small, patched burlap bag, which clinked faintly as I took it out. Leaning over, I set it gently on her back. Even such a young earth pony could hold up that weight, and balance it. She knew what it was as soon as the bag met her shoulders, and grinned up at me excitedly. “Why don’t you tell mama that grandpa says you two should go into town today, and take all your cousins with you?”
“Oh don’t you go filling her head with ideas like that now.” Morning Mist hurried into the room, tisking as she saw me finishing off the dishes. “You should be resting, not working, and you young filly, you should be outside doing your chores, not keeping your grandpa up.” She was a blue as pale as the mist she enjoyed, but her temper was not so calm.
“Mist...actually you are right, I should be taking a nap now.” She glanced up hopefully. “And I was going to take my rainy day bits into town to look at some things, but since I’m going to rest instead, why don’t you take them and go shopping? I know the foals would enjoy it, and you’ve been working very hard. Go find yourself a new cloak, and some treats for them, will you?”
“Well I...I guess we can do that.”
“Wonderful, but do make sure to say hello to Clover for me.”
“I will. But you rest now, and I’ll be back in time to cook dinner. Don’t you even think about getting up and doing that again.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Now be off with you! It’s too nice of a day to not enjoy.”
She scooped up Garnet and the bag of bits, and hurried out the door to call the rest of the fillies and colts from their chores. They would still be there to do when they all got back in a few hours. Half an hour to walk to town, two or three hours to shop, and half an hour to walk back...should be long enough. I grabbed the last plate in my teeth, gleaming in the sunlight, and stuck it on the shelf, still shivering. Hobbling over to the front door, I chanced one look outside to make sure they had all left, before dragging myself over to my room. Just my room now.
For so many years, climbing into that bed was the easiest thing I did every day. One last effort to ensure that I could rest away all the stresses on my bones and muscles. Now, it took all those tired hind legs had left to push myself up far enough until I tipped over to land on the mattress, and shake until my mind possessed the wherewithal to draw the sheets over my form. Everything now relaxed, and with my head and neck lying upon the old feather pillow, those growls of pain quieted to release the whisper of thought and voice.
“You took your sweet time getting here.”
“Well, would it really be in my nature to be late...or to be early?”
“I can name just a few times you might have succumbed to the allure of the latter.” A harsh chuckle left my lips as Toll stepped out from behind the door. “But I suppose that doesn’t really matter all that much now, now does it?”
“More than you might think.” Toll stopped and sat down on the edge of the bed. He didn’t leave any indentation. “And I’ve got a little time to talk.”
“Well if you’ve got time, I’ve got time.”
Toll paused for a moment and looked at the floor. He took what sounded like an inhale through teeth before he began. “Look, Brook...I wanted to say that I am sorry. I sorrow for my actions and regret what I forced you into. I’ve had many years to look upon the merits and wrongs long past, and found that they helped me very little for much suffering on your part.”
Had the fire in my limbs burned a little brighter, I would have shrugged. “In the end it worked out...I’ve long since given up pondering what would have been in favor of what is. No amount of hatred for what happened can change the past, and hope came from giving up hope for a better past for myself. I can’t help but look forward to the future.”
“Perhaps I could have done better to ask you to be my teacher instead of my servant. Had I learned that lesson centuries, or even decades ago, it would have spared me much pain. Perhaps it is too simple of a yearning, but may I ask forgiveness for what I have done?”
“It must be my mortality speaking for me, but I see nothing wrong with that. I give you my forgiveness, though I hope that those who I meet above will be ready to forgive me when I come to ask them.”
“I have the feeling they will. But you will know for yourself soon enough. It is your time.” Toll stood up and reached out. For a moment I hesitated, and the moment passed. I’ve lived more than my fair share of years, and for the most of them, they were happy and prosperous. And now, this is my chance to see them all again. Mother. Father. Feather Waft. Thatcher. Ember. All those years of waiting had come crashing back down, and I knew I was ready. Shakily, I started to lift one foreleg out from under the sheets, and looked up.
For the first time I saw his face; old and wrinkled, bearing all the cares of the ages of the world. It was tired and worn, but smiling. Not a smile of malice or malevolence, but rather the smile one wears to greet an old friend. He stretched forward to meet my leg before I could exert myself any further. I took his hoof, and saw no more.