18. No Need for Goodbyes
No Need for Goodbyes
Pizzicato. The word floated, as if on a breeze, into Macintosh’s mind on such a lazy Sunday. The hesitant plucking would start at a low pitch and then step higher and higher slowly, hesitantly. Then it would crawl back down, like a pony going down a steep hill, pausing every so often to secure unsure footing. Scales.
Mac blinked. Had he spent the night at Octavia’s again? No. The sound did not come from a professional’s hooves, certainly not Octavia’s. It lacked the resolute certainty, the confidence and the daring. He blinked again. The familiar wood paneling of his room came into focus, and last night’s events came rushing back. He groaned and tried to get up, but being awake for thirty-six hours straight took a toll on his body. It felt heavier, and rebelled against his early rise. The warmth of his bed only made waking much more difficult. His bed was a magnet, and he an unrefined chunk of iron helplessly drawn to it. Unwilling to succumb to laziness, Macintosh rocked from side to side until the gathered momentum dropped him to the floor, blankets and all. He stood, enjoyed his victory for a few seconds, and then left his room to journey downstairs where the cello-sounds originated. Mac hoped that whoever was playing Octavia’s cello asked for permission first, especially at such an early hour.
He was a bit weak in the knees and took the stairs at a slow pace. With each step down he heard Octavia speak between each scale.
“Again.” The notes rose and fell.
“Again.” Up and down.
“Again.”
Mac entered the living room and came upon a strange sight: Applebloom stood behind the cello, her right foreleg wrapped around the neck, while the other kept the large, wooden body steady. Her hoof traveled down and up as she plucked the strings. When did Applebloom get so big? Her hoof easily reached the top of the cello’s neck.
Octavia glared at Applebloom’s hooves as well as the cello strings, a predator hungry for any minor mistake. Granny Smith, meanwhile, was sitting on her chair half-asleep and clicking her hooves to keep the beat. A beat that Applebloom failed to keep.
“Octavia,” Applebloom said. She leaned the cello against her shoulder so that she could rub her hooves together. “My hooves hurt.”
“That means you are developing callouses, which you will need if you are to become a competent cellist,” Octavia said. “Now enough dallying and play an E major scale.”
Applebloom ignored her instruction. “Shouldn’t Ah be learning to use a bow? Why do Ah have to keep pluckin’ scales?” she asked.
“You have not yet earned the privilege to play with a bow,” Octavia said. “Why, when I was your age I was playing on street corners, entertaining ponies to earn enough bits to afford a meager carrot, and I played on a cello with a single string with nothing but my hooves. It was only after several months that I found a bow, and I had to string it with strands of my own tail.”
It was the perfect opportunity. Macintosh sauntered into the room and rested his chin on top of Octavia’s head. “But now it’s all root beer floats and apple pies for ya, huh?” he said with a smile.
Octavia grunted, annoyed but unmoving. “That doesn’t matter,” she muttered. “Please, Macintosh, you are ruining my credibility as an artist.”
“So what’s going on here anyway?” Macintosh asked as he removed himself from Octavia.
“This one kept begging to play my cello,” Octavia said, “and I finally agreed on the condition that she dedicate one full hour to actually learning how to play it properly. We still have twenty minutes left, and I intend to–“
“Breakfast is ready!” Rarity’s voice called out. She peeked out of the kitchen into the living room. “Hurry before it gets cold. I worked very hard on it.” Granny Smith awoke with a snort and, after a nice long yawn and stretch, hopped off her chair. Macintosh tilted his head at Rarity, wondering why in Equestria she decided to cook breakfast. Applebloom was more accepting of this strange occurrence, and as soon as she heard ‘breakfast’ she leaned the cello against the couch and started trotting to the kitchen. Octavia quickly stepped in front of her.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Octavia said.
“Um...to breakfast?” Applebloom said.
“You still have practice,” Octavia said, waving her hoof at the cello. Applebloom looked at the instrument, her ears pinned, then looked over at Mac.
“C’mon now, Octi,” Mac said. “Forty minutes is enough for a little filly, don’t ya think?”
Octavia narrowed her eyes at him, and in the silence, Applebloom found her opportunity to slip away into the kitchen. Octavia frowned. “No wonder she doesn’t have her cutie mark yet,” she muttered, “the little thing has little persistence. Not that you were any help.”
Mac smiled. “Let her be. Little ponies are supposed to be interested in a lot of things. There’s no point in forcing her to focus on one. Besides, Apples always get their cutie marks a bit late.”
“Lucky lucky,” Octavia murmured. “You’re very fortunate that I am tired and there is food waiting for us, or else you would have drawn a bigger fight from me. I just can’t think up any good words right now.” Octavia walked past him, and Mac followed. Truth be told he was feeling a mite peckish himself.
“How was sharing a room with Rarity?” he asked.
Octavia chuckled, and for a moment it sounded sincere rather than sarcastic. “A great opportunity to sharpen my wit.” She flattened her lips into a thin line, as if pondering whether to continue, but soon she stepped into the kitchen and the conversation dropped. Macintosh didn’t mind.
So much food burdened the dining room table that Macintosh thought it a small miracle that the table legs didn’t buckle under the weight. Syrup soaked pancakes and waffles gleamed in the light. Scrambled eggs, as soft and fluffy as cashmere, steamed in a large bowl. The smell of citrus wafted from another bowl filled with a fruit salad of orange wedges, apples, grapes, and chunks of pineapple.
Applejack placed utensils and plates around the table, and Rarity placed a large serving dish of oatmeal drizzled with honey and garnished with blueberries. Octavia licked her lips and took a seat. Macintosh sat beside her; Rarity, beside him. Applejack sat across from Mac with Applebloom taking a seat beside her. Granny Smith took the head of the table.
“Yer such a dear for going through all this trouble, Miss Rarity. Takes me back to when my daughter used to cook breakfast for us, sweet thing,” Granny Smith said. Rarity bowed her head, and Granny Smith smiled at her. She then looked over at Octavia and squinted her eyes, considering her for a moment. “Did Ah ever tell ya you remind me of mah dear husband, Cedar?”
Octavia quirked an eyebrow. “Do I?”
“That ya do.” Granny Smith smiled. “Ya got that same hungry look in yer eyes, an’ Ah ain’t talking about breakfast, missy. Why, Ah remember when we first met, told me he was gonna show the world what a dirt-born earth pony could do.”
“Uh, Granny?” Mac cleared his throat and caught his grandmother’s attention. “If we don’t eat soon we’re all gonna get a hungry look in our eyes.”
Granny Smith nodded. “Best eat before the food gets cold, Ah s’pose.”
With that, everyone reached toward the center of the table to get their share. They passed around plates until everyone had what they wanted. Mac scooped a small helping of fruit into his empty bowl. It would be enough to last him the day, he decided. Octavia, meanwhile, piled food high onto every dish in front of her. By Mac’s estimate, she took about a solid quarter of the food. Thankfully, Rarity prepared just enough to fill everyone’s stomachs.
Only Applebloom stared openly at the amount of food Octavia served herself. If Octavia noticed, she didn’t let on. Instead, she busied herself with eating. They all did soon enough, and the first half of breakfast passed in silence.
Mac finished his small serving of fruit, and the silence broke.
“So, Mac, yer really leavin’, huh?” Applejack asked.
“Eeyup, still haven’t decided on a date yet.”
“Rarity told me Canterlot. Pretty expensive over there. Where’re you staying, and how’re you affording it?”
Macintosh said nothing at first. He scraped the bottom of his bowl to get at the sweet juice that collected there. He stuck his spoon into his mouth and, as the citrus tickled his tongue, he tried to figure out how to tell her the truth without telling her the truth. He knew that both Applejack and Rarity would react less than positively about the particulars of his moving. Mac took the spoon out of his mouth and took a quick glance at Rarity, and then at Octavia. They both stared at him, waiting for an answer.
“I’ve been hoarding a pretty large savings. There’s an empty apartment above Octavia’s place. I’m moving in there.” Those three statements were all true. He’d just neglected to mention that Octavia owned both apartments, that she was letting him move in for free, and, most damning of all, that the two apartments were connected; therefore, technically, he and Octavia were moving in together.
His answer satisfied everyone at the table, and he only had to deal with Rarity’s silent scowl.
Applejack nodded at his answer and moved on to another subject. “Got any plans for today?”
Macintosh scraped the bottom of the bowl again. He found it bone dry, but he placed the spoon in his mouth anyway. “After I walk Octavia to the train station I gotta take care of some things before I leave for Canterlot. Plus I got some engagements I need to plan for.”
Octavia ate the last bit of egg off her plate. “I’ve decided to stay here for a while longer. Rarity’s offered to create a dress for me, and I’m never one to take such generosity for granted.”
“That so?” Mac asked with a tilt of his head. He looked over at Rarity, and she gave him a nod and a smile that didn’t put Mac’s nerves at ease. He had his suspicions, but he really couldn’t complain about Rarity and Octavia spending time together. A possible friendship between them would disarm a lot of landmines in his social circle. Instead of pressing the subject further, Mac shrugged, stood, and took his dishes to the sink.
Applejack stood as well and rolled her shoulders. Her eyes widened for a split second. “Oh Applebloom, Ah almost forgot to tell ya.” She turned to her little sister. “Sorry, sugarcube, Ah’m gonna have to miss watchin’ the butterfly migration. Ah’m planning to add a couple of new fields for the farm.”
“Oh,” Applebloom said, staring at her plate. “Th-that’s okay. Ah’ll still have loads of fun with Fluttershy and the crusaders.”
“I’m sure Fluttershy knows a whole lot more about butterflies than Applejack anyway,” Big Mac said with a smile in an attempt to cheer up his baby sister. “No offense, AJ.”
“Aw heck, it’s the truth,” Applejack said with another smile aimed at Applebloom.
Applebloom gave each of them a weak smile, excused herself from the table, and thanked Rarity for breakfast. She left through the backdoor, leaving behind an uncomfortable silence. Mac hurried to change the subject.
“You want me to walk with you to Rarity’s?” he asked Octavia. “Doesn’t seem right for me to bring you down to Ponyville and then leave you to fend for yourself.”
Octavia opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say a word Rarity wrapped a foreleg around her neck and pulled her close enough for their cheeks to squish together. “Macintosh, sweetie, you have nothing to worry about. She’s under my watchful care. I’ll be sure to keep her happy and entertained.”
Octavia tensed her jaw and pushed Rarity away. “Needless touching and possible innuendo aside, I’m perfectly fine being on my own, Macintosh. This isn’t the first time I’ve been behind enemy lines, so to speak. Shall we leave then, Rarity?”
“Of course, darling, I’ll lead the way.”
Rarity sashayed out of the kitchen, and Octavia, a deep scowl chiseled into her face, followed behind her. The front door opened and closed, leaving Applejack, Granny Smith, and Big Macintosh alone in the kitchen.
“So which one’s gonna come back alive, you reckon?” Granny Smith asked. She sipped at a mug of black coffee.
“My bit’s on Rarity. Ah’ve seen her send a pack of diamond dogs whimpering the other way,” Applejack said.
“Ah dunno about any diamond dogs,” Granny Smith said, “but Octavia’s got that inner rage, it’s clear on her face. Betcha she just needs a reason to bring it out.”
“Will you two crazy ol’ nags quiet down?” Mac said with a huff. “For all we know they could be startin’ a nice friendship. Maybe they got to know each other and found out they had more in common than not.”
Applejack and Granny Smith met gazes and burst into laughter. They laughed for a long minute, and Mac frowned the entire time.
“Yeah sure, Mac,” Applejack said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Ah’m sure they’re gettin’ along all hunky-dory.” Applejack sipped at her mug. When she brought her cup down, her smiled had vanished. “Truth is, Mac, Ah think you should choose one or the other before things get...bitter.”
Macintosh blew a few strands of his mane out of his eyes. “If they can’t at least pretend to get along, then I ain’t gonna choose either one. It’d probably be best for us to just be friends. Keep them in separate circles and away from each other. So far it looks like they’re putting in an effort, and I really appreciate that.”
Applejack sighed. “Yeah, Ah hate to say it, but ya might be right, big brother.” She swirled her mug. “So much for pickin’ bridesmaid dresses.”
Mac chuckled. “You never know, you got plenty of other friends I can date.”
“Shut up,” Applejack said with a small smile. She downed the coffee left in her mug and stood from the table. “Ah better get started on my chores. Ah know yer busy, Mac, but would ya mind doin’ the dishes?”
“Sure thing,” Mac said.
Applejack gave him a nod and trotted out the door. Macintosh watched her go. He gathered the dirty dishes, packing away any leftover food for later, and stacked them into the sink.
“Leave the dishes to me,” Granny Smith said. She got up and pushed Big Mac out of the way. Despite the mare’s age, she still had the strength to jostle her biggest grandchild. “You get started on yer errands, and Ah’ll get these dishes. Beats takin’ a nap.”
Mac knew better than to argue with his granny. He gave her a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and gave her a heartfelt thanks.
-*-
Macintosh flicked his ponytail back and forth to each side of his neck. He stared, freshly showered, at his bathroom mirror. A frown crossed his face. Washing, combing, drying, and tying his mane and tail proved a greater hassle than he ever wanted to deal with. Back when he worked on the farm he kept them short so that he needed little time to prepare for the day. However, the stallions in Canterlot always kept their manes and tails long, usually styled and gelled into slick designs. If Mac wanted to fit in, he would need a long mane as well, though he didn’t feel a need to go over the top with styling. Not yet, anyway.
He opened the bathroom door and allowed the steam to waft out in swirls. Mac went into his room and swung his saddlebags across his back. He stared at his harness hanging on its hook for a second. His gaze wandered to the shelf beside it, and the Miss Smarty Pants doll slouched on top. He took the doll gently in his teeth and tucked it into his bags. It was time to return it.
He trotted down the stairs and through the front door, and he smiled as he felt dirt beneath his hooves. Mac took a deep breath of the brisk autumn breeze, taking in the sight of the red-tinged leaves rustled by that breeze. The grass reflected the sun in shimmering bands that moved with the wind. He sighed and started his walk into Ponyville.
He was leaving this all behind. He would miss it, there would be no doubt about that, but it was for the best. The farm didn’t need him anymore, and it was in Applejack’s capable care now. It was time to let go and move on so that he could create his own path in life. Doing what, he wasn’t quite sure yet. Maybe he would find out in Canterlot, maybe not. Either way, it wasn’t as if he would never be back.
Lost in his thoughts, Macintosh arrived at the library sooner than he realized. Though like most libraries it was closed on Sunday, he still hoped Twilight might be home. He raised his hoof to knock, but a sudden hesitation stopped him.
He didn’t know exactly how Twilight would react to him giving back her doll. It wasn’t much of a secret anymore, but she never approached him about it. He didn’t know whether she didn’t mind or if she wanted him to return it of his own volition. Worst case scenario: she had waited all this time for him to return it and would have quite an earful to give him once he handed the doll over. Mac clenched his teeth at the thought. What if he seriously damaged their friendship? He had left the farmstead with a steely resolve but now, in front of the library, that resolve shriveled away.
Mac shook his head. Whatever happened, happened. He wanted to return this doll, and he would do just that. He knocked. Seconds passed and no answer came. He knocked again, a bit louder this time. Still no answer.
Macintosh actually felt relieved. Thankfully, it seemed he wouldn’t have to worry about it today.
Mac turned to leave, but as soon as he had his back to the door it opened.
“Hey Macintosh, come on in,” Twilight said.
Mac quickly turned around again and smiled to hide his sudden nervousness. “Morning, Twilight.” He entered the library. The books and notebooks opened on the table didn’t surprise him. He looked around for any sign of Spike but found none. Twilight ushered him to the table. He sat and placed his saddlebags behind him. Twilight disappeared behind a door and came back with a cup of tea for him. She returned to her seat at the messiest part of the table.
“Sorry about taking so long to answer, I kind of forget myself when I’m reading,” Twilight explained with a blushing smile.
“No problem,” Macintosh said. “Where’s Spike?”
“He went to see the Monarch butterfly migration.”
Macintosh nodded. “You didn’t go?”
“I felt like staying in today to read and enjoy some tea.” Twilight shrugged. “So what brings you here, Macintosh? Did you want to talk about obtuse subjects and abstract philosophy?” By her wry smirk, Macintosh knew she meant only to tease.
“Actually I was hoping to talk about somethin’ new. Maybe learn a bit of something about everything,” Macintosh said with a chuckle. “How about physics?”
“You wouldn’t like being a physicist,” Twilight said. “They don’t even know where ninety-five percent of the universe is. Become a mathematician. You’ll know everything about the world, just maybe not this world.” She took a sip of her tea.
“Is there anypony out there that knows everything?”
Twilight flipped through her book. “Of course not. Not Starswirl the Bearded, not Princess Luna, not even Princess Celestia. That’s why ponies have to work together. A pony alone can’t know everything, but if everypony pools they’re knowledge, then we get pretty close. The more a pony learns, the more they have to contribute.”
Macintosh raised his cup and allowed the tea to burn his lips. “Sounds like you thought a lot about it.”
“I had to...thanks to you,” Twilight said.
“Me?”
She nodded. “I don’t know if I ever told you this, Macintosh, but I’ve always thought a pony should always try to learn as much as they can. If they didn’t, then they were wasting their mind. That’s why I tried to so hard to make you interested in learning new things. If you didn’t, then you would never reach your full potential.” Twilight sighed and closed her book. She stared at the cover, her lips in a tight line. She didn’t look up when she spoke. “But you’ve been through hardships I can’t even imagine for reasons I deeply understood. All this time I approached you with my own perspective, not yours. It’s no wonder we’ve always butted heads.” Twilight finally raised her head to meet gazes. Her eyes watered. “Just because a pony has a different perspective doesn’t make that perspective less valuable. I’m sorry.”
Macintosh smiled softly, he had worried that someone would react like this. “Twilight, I got my own theory about ponies. You wanna hear?”
“Uh, sure,” Twilight said, her eyes squinted in confusion.
“We all have our own challenges, Twilight. Whether you’re an Element of Harmony protecting Equestria, a dirt poor farmer earning his land, or a street foal getting by on a chunk of plywood. A pony can go through hell and back, through worse things than what I’ve gone through, and survive. They may come out dinged and worse for wear, but that ain’t nothing love, care, work, patience, and time can’t buff out a bit. I was lucky enough to have all five. My past ain’t so bad when you look at it like that.”
Twilight took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I guess it doesn’t.” She managed a smile, and Mac’s own became stronger as well.
“Before I forget,” Mac said as he reached into his saddlebags, “the reason I came here was to give you this.” He pulled out the doll and held it out to her.
Her eyes lit up like a starry night. “Miss Smarty Pants!” Twilight pulled her out of Mac’s grasp and held her close to her cheek. She touched the doll’s dangling button eye. “She’s exactly like I remember her.” Twilight squeezed Miss Smarty Pants to her chest and looked at Mac. “Thank you but...I’m curious why you took her in the first place.”
Macintosh’s cheeks burned. “Aw well, she reminds me of the toys I used to play with when I was a colt. Having her around sort of let me remember the good days of my foalhood.”
“You had dolls when you were little?”
“Sure did,” Mac said. “Though I’m not sure ponies would consider what I had dolls. Dolls are usually made outta fabric and cotton and the like. I carved mine outta wood, and made ‘em look like ponies I knew and read about. I had a little Applejack one, an Applebloom one, a Daring Doo one, all kinds.”
“Really?” Twilight asked. “I’d love to see them.”
“I’d love to show you,” Mac said, “but I burned them over a decade ago.”
Twilight’s eyes widened. “That’s terrible. What happened?”
Macintosh shrugged. “It was back when I was a colt, before Moonshine showed up at the reunion but after my parents passed. It was in the middle of spring. One night it snowed and snowed and snowed, almost a blizzard. We used up our firewood in the winter, and didn’t expect we’d need more so soon after Winter Wrap-Up. We had to burn anything we could find.”
“But to burn toys that you made yourself?”
Macintosh shrugged. “Look around you, Twilight, and imagine having matches but no wood. You need to feed a fire or freeze. What would you burn? What would you save? Granny Smith burned a patch of the family quilt. Applejack burned her lasso. I burned my wood toys.” Macintosh chuckled as a long buried detail rushed into his memory. “If I’d known where my mother’s harness was back then I would’ve burned that instead. I found out after the fact that there was a mix-up at the weather factory. It rained in the mountains and snowed over Sweet Apple Acres.”
Twilights eyes watered again, and she tightened her hold on Miss Smarty Pants. Macintosh looked away from her. He hated telling stories from his childhood, mostly because it made his listener glum.
“Twilight,” he began, facing her again, “I don’t tell these stories to make ponies sad. It happened a long time ago, and the experience made me a better pony. When it all comes down to it, those wooden dolls were just chunks of wood. I could always make them again if I wanted to.”
“But they held some sentiment for you, didn’t they? I can’t imagine burning Miss Smarty Pants now, let alone as a filly back when she meant the world to me.”
“I ain’t saying they didn’t hold any meaning for me,” Big Mac said. “Let me put it like this. Imagine your mom, your dad, your brother, every pony you love in your heart of hearts. Would you burn Miss Smarty Pants for their sake?”
Twilight bit her lip, but it only took a second for her to nod her head.
“You know what I know,” Mac said. “That your doll, my toys, and these books can all be replaced. Even lost knowledge can be found again if enough time passes. A pony, once they’re gone, ain’t coming back. It hurt to burn those toys, but I’d burn much more if it was for my family.”
Twilight took a deep breath and nodded. “I’d never want to make that choice, though.”
“No pony should. A pony needs to have fun, to have friends, and to have a passion to work toward. I think that’s all a pony needs to be happy through all the ups and downs. That’s why I’m glad to see Applebloom and Applejack have all the things I didn’t when I was little.”
“You have all those things now,” Twilight said with a smile. “And you’re happy, right?”
Macintosh sighed. “I have friends, and I have fun, I just need to find some fulfilling work. For the longest time working the farm was my passion because I was helping my family, but my family doesn’t need my help anymore so...well, you know the story.”
“The missing piece of the puzzle,” Twilight said. She tapped her chin in thought. “I hope you find it soon, Macintosh. I truly do.” She placed Miss Smarty Pants on the table, and adjusted her to make sure she was comfy. “Thanks for opening up to me.” She looked down at her book, hoof on the cover, but didn’t open it. She only stared at it for several seconds of silence. “Can I open up to you about something?”
“Anything,” Mac said.
“I’m really worried about Applejack. I’m worried she’s working too much on the farm. I’m terrified that after you’re gone she’s only going to get worse. At least if you were around she could ask for help. She’s doing the same thing you did, and with Applebucking Season coming up...”
“It’s different for Applejack,” Mac rushed to say. “She wants to work at the farm. That’s her thing. So she’s spending more time on the farm, that’s normal. I’m sure once she gets her rhythm, finds her schedule, she’ll be able to spend more time with you and the others.”
Twilight frowned. “I don’t know about that, Macintosh. Sweet Apple Acres is huge. It’s impossible for a single pony to do everything that needs to be done, I know, I’ve done all the calculations. I’ve talked to her about this and she refuses to hire any help. I don’t know what else I can do.” Her voice cracked, and she turned away to clear her throat. “Please talk to her.”
Macintosh thought about his breakfast, and how Applejack told Applebloom she would be too busy to go with her to see the butterflies.
“Maybe you got a point,” Mac said. “I’ll talk to her tonight.”
Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Big Macintosh. That means a lot to me.”
“It’s no problem, but I want you to keep in mind that it’s possible she’s not gonna spend as much time with ya even if she does hire on help. Things have been quiet for a while, right? Maybe she’s just focusing on her work now that she doesn’t have to worry about saving Equestria.”
“If that were the case I wouldn’t mind,” Twilight said. “But I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
Macintosh nodded and then stood to go. “I should get going. I need to go into our cellar and decide what I’m taking with me to Canterlot.”
“What’s in the cellar?” Twilight asked.
“Just some old things from when I was a colt. Things Granny Smith wouldn’t let me burn. I haven’t rummaged through it in years.”
Twilight jumped to her hooves with the force of a sudden idea. “Hey, I know! How about we look through your things and see if there’s any clues there for what you can be passionate about?”
Macintosh raised an eyebrow. “How would that help?”
“Mac, you probably have a trunk full of things from when you were a foal. Things from before you started working on the farm. Who knows, there might be something you forgot about. Something you were really passionate about. Maybe it’ll lead us to discover what you can do to feel more fulfilled.”
Mac tilted his head. “I guess it’s worth a shot. You comin’ with me then?”
“Sure, it’ll be like doing research. You go to your sources, see what you can find, and come up with a hypothesis, which we can then test to form a theory.”
Macintosh chuckled. “Twilight, if we went to school together there’d be no way we’d be friends.” He slung his saddlebags across his back and walked out the library before Twilight could respond. As he stepped onto the cobblestone street, Twilight rushed to his side.
“Why not?” she asked as the two made their way back to the farm. “I’m sure if I had gone to school in Ponyville I would have been friends with you.”
“Nah, I don’t think you would.” Mac thought for a moment. “Well, I take that back. You shouldn’t have been friends with me. I was a mean little colt who slept during class and got into lots of fights.”
“You were bullied?”
Macintosh shrugged. “Wouldn’t call it bullying exactly. Ponies at school liked to mess with me, sure, but they only did it once. I was small, but I could bite and buck somethin’ fierce. After a while everypony just left me alone. Looking back, it was all for the best. Made leaving school an easy thing to do once I was rebuilding the farm.”
Twilight squinted her eyes at the ground, her mind working. “I wonder how we would have turned out if our lives got switched around. How would we have turned out?”
Macintosh laughed. “Could you imagine that? You a strong, dumb farm pony, and me a scrawny, little bookworm.” He shook his head with a smile. “No point in thinking about anything like that. I wouldn’t change anything about my life anyway.”
“Agreed,” Twilight said. “I wouldn’t change anything either.” They walked in silence for a long while. They left Ponyville in silence, and they entered the outer reaches of Sweet Apple Acres in silence. Only when they saw the farmstead on the horizon did Twilight speak again. “You’ll love it in Canterlot. I already sent a letter to Princess Celestia, and she said that you should feel free to visit the castle whenever you want.”
“I hope she doesn’t mind if I bring company.” Macintosh smiled at the thought of bringing Octavia to meet the princess. He’d love to see how much of her diabolical and tyrannical ambition remained when she came face to face with her competition.
“I’m sure she’d be happy if you did.”
They reached the cellar door an hour or two after noon, and Mac swung it open to reveal the stairs leading down into its cool depths. Mac descended the steps and flicked the light switch on the way down. Twilight followed. Several large shelves filled with baskets of root vegetables stood throughout the room. A pile of junk littered one of the corners, and boxes filled with unorganized treasures lined the back wall. Macintosh scanned the wall, looking for his own box. He found it tucked away in a corner and pulled it out without any difficulty. A combination of cards, books, notebooks, sketchbooks, and loose papers filled the box to it’s brim.
“Well, here it is. Dig in.”
Twilight examined the contents. She plucked a notebook from the box and opened it to a random page. Her eyes flitted through the page, and she tried to hold in a laugh. Twilight read aloud. “Rodeo Red and Nightmare Moon paced around each other in a big circle. Nightmare Moon didn’t see where she was going, so she stepped on some train tracks and a train ran her over. ‘Rodeo Red you are the bravest hero ever,’ the townspeople said. And from then on he was remembered by the entire world. The end.”
Mac’s cheeks burned. “Gimme a break, I must’ve been younger than Applebloom when I wrote that.”
Twilight chucked and placed the notebook beside the box. She continued her rummaging and pulled out a worn stack of paper bound with thick leather cord. She opened the homemade sketchbook and revealed the charcoal rendered landscapes within. Years of rubbing against each other blurred the drawings, but a few remained pristine by some divine luck.
“Macintosh these are really good,” Twilight said, carefully engulfing a particular sketch of the farmstead in her magic. Her horn flashed, and the glow disappeared. She ran a hoof through the charcoal, but it did not smear. “You really put a lot of detail into drawing the grain of the wood.”
Macintosh shrugged. “If you say so, Twilight.”
Twilight went through each page, magically protecting every sketch that could be saved from every sketchbook she found. The spell itself only took a split-second to cast, but with every sketch Twilight took a minute or two to scrutinize every detail. She went through every single sketchbook, and for what seemed like hours Mac could only watch her. The last sketch, and the one she stared at the longest, was a drawing of a leaf. The sketch took up the entire page, with every single vein and stem and textured surface rendered.
“Wow, Macintosh, I didn’t know you could draw so well. You have some amazing talent.”
“Talent?” Mac repeated with a disbelieving scoff. “Ain’t no talent, Twilight. I can’t even draw like that anymore,” Mac said. “Truth be told I really couldn’t draw much back then either. I could only draw what I could see, and it would take me hours just to finish a single one of ‘em. Doesn’t sound like talent to me.” He looked at the charcoal drawing and ran a hoof across its surface. The lines remained sharp and distinct. “Do me a favor and don’t tell Rarity about this. She’ll end up thinking I’ve got talent, just like you did, and get her hopes up about this whole art thing.” He shook his head with a sigh. “I wouldn’t wanna disappoint her after all that time she used up tryin’ to teach me.”
Twilight quirked an eyebrow and placed the sketchbooks aside. “Fine, I won’t tell her.” She rummaged through the box again. “But how about this?” She pulled out a Hearts and Hooves heart made of woven straw. Time had frayed the edges, making quite a few strands of the straw stick out at all sorts of angles.
Macintosh smiled. “I made that for my mom.”
“And it’s impeccably made,” Twilight said with a smug smile. “I bet when you first made it, it was absolutely perfect.”
“Well sure, but what you don’t see is the twenty times I failed weaving it properly, or the weeks I spent trying to figure out how to do it in the first place. That ain’t talent, that’s just stubbornness and a bit of luck.”
Twilight rolled her eyes. She topped the sketchbooks with the straw heart and went for the box again. “Fine, then how about...Oh! Macintosh, look at this!” She brought out a little chunk of wood carved in the poor facsimile of a pony, it’s four legs attached to a wide, solid base for balance.
Mac’s eyes widened as he recognized one of his old carvings. He grabbed it from her hooves like a delicate glass figurine. “Whaddya know. Looks like Granny Smith kept this one.” He turned the figure in his hooves, and a rush of warmth sprung from his chest and spread to the rest of his body. He smiled, and wiped his eyes with a foreleg. He couldn’t recognize whose likeness he had in mind when carving, but even so, he tucked the old toy into his saddlebags.
“Looks like I found what I’m taking,” Mac said. He looked into the box. Nothing but more papers and a broken pitch pipe remained. He looked up at Twilight. “So Miss Smarty Pants, what sorta hypothesis can ya take away from this old box?”
Twilight smiled. “It’s pretty obvious actually. Macintosh, you’re right, you have very little talent.”
Mac frowned at her, his heart dropping. It was one thing when he said it, quite another when she did.
Twilight chuckled. “But you have an amazing amount of focus. Sure, it might take you longer to do something, but if you take that time you can guarantee your success. I honestly believe, Macintosh, that you can be pretty amazing at just about anything if you really put your mind to it.”
Mac smiled. “That’s mighty sweet of ya to say, Twilight. It means a lot comin’ from you.” He looked at the pile of his things and started to place them back into the box. “I guess it’s just a matter of finding the right work.” He sighed as he dropped the last of the notebooks in place and shoved the box back toward the wall. “I hope I find it soon.”
“Maybe you should keep drawing,” Twilight said. “That looks promising.”
“Drawings great but...” Mac trailed off as he tried to find the right words. “I just don’t get that same feeling I got when I worked the farm. It feels like something’s missing. Same with everything else I do. It just doesn’t feel right.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out in Canterlot,” Twilight said.
Macintosh nodded but couldn’t be sure. He knew that talking about it further wouldn’t help him. With a wave of his hoof he beckoned for Twilight to follow him as he led the way back to the surface. They left the cellar, and Mac closed the door behind him.
The afternoon sun already hung so close to the horizon. Each day was becoming shorter. Mac stared at the reddening sky for a while, thinking about his future in Canterlot. Sure, there probably wouldn’t be as many gold-brushed leaves to see in Canterlot. The sounds of crickets and cicadas would more than likely become a distant memory, but surely Canterlot had it’s own sights and sounds to offer. The glimmering glass and stone of skyscrapers and palaces, the deep dulcet tones of a cello, all those fancy ponies wearing their silly frills. Heck, maybe amidst all the art galleries he might get enough inspiration to change his opinion about being an artist. Wouldn’t Rarity love that?
“Oh look, there’s Applebloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle,” Twilight said. She waved at the Cutie Mark Crusaders, and Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle waved back. Applebloom only smiled, but even from so far away Mac could see how much effort that smile took. The three of them talked amongst each other for a bit before going their separate ways: Applebloom to the farmstead, Sweetie Belle to Ponyville. Scootaloo stayed put and watched both of them leave. Once Applebloom closed the door behind her, and once Sweetie Belle became a speck on the horizon, Scootaloo trotted toward Macintosh and Twilight.
“Uh, hey Big Macintosh,” Scootaloo said, her hoof rubbing the back of her neck. “Can I...talk to you?”
Mac and Twilight exchanged worried glances. Mac cleared his throat. “Of course, sugarcube. What’s wrong?”
Scootaloo kicked the dirt for a couple of seconds before speaking again. “It’s about Applebloom. I think she’s upset about Applejack not being around. She tried to look happy but...” She trailed off and stared at the ground. “I dunno what to do, but maybe you can...maybe...”
“Don’t worry, sugarcube. I’ll take care of it,” Mac said. “Now run along home, I’m sure your parents are worried about you.”
Scootaloo gave Mac a smile and nodded. She turned and trotted the path home. As she walked, Macintosh suddenly remembered something.
“Scootaloo!” he called after her. The filly stopped and turned around. “Did you talk to your parents?”
“Yeah!” she yelled back at him. “They came with us to watch the butterflies.” With that she left, and Macintosh watched her go.
Macintosh took in a deep breath, as much air as he could take, and exhaled for several seconds. Twilight just watched him, and placed a hoof on his shoulder.
“Let’s go find Applejack,” Mac said, and Twilight only nodded.
Their search took them through the apple trees. Every one of their boughs held the weight of dozens of apples. Some branches bent toward the ground, unable to support the burden. To the normal pony, the apples looked ready to harvest, but to Mac’s trained eye they would need a few more days. Just a few. Perhaps only three by the looks of it.
They found Applejack in the southern fields placing wooden stakes in the ground and wrapping a long piece of twine around them. She had marked out the boundary of two large fields, all that had to be done now was to plow and seed them. Applejack had her back toward Twilight and Mac, and she yawned as she examined her work. Macintosh stepped forward first, and Applejack turned at the sound of the approaching hoofsteps. She saw her brother and smiled.
“Hey there, Mac. Whaddya think?” Applejack asked, gesturing to the bounded patches of dirt. Mac looked at her and saw the dark bags beneath her eyes.
“Looks good, sugarcube,” he said, “but you look awfully tired. You sure you don’t wanna take a nap or something?”
“Of course not,” Applejack said. “All Ah gotta do is till and set the fields and Ah’ll be done for today.”
Mac nodded. “Sure, but if you ain’t in top shape ya might make the field crooked and have to do it all over again.”
Applejack pressed her lips into a thin line. “Ah can do it, Mac.”
“I know you can, but even I wouldn’t make a new field lookin’ as tired as you.”
Applejack sighed and hardened her jaw. “You might be right,” she said, but she gave her brother a hard stare. “Ah’m gonna take a nap, but Ah want ya to promise me that you won’t touch that plow.” She pointed to the shining, new plow that stood beside the soon-to-be fields.
Mac shrugged. “I promise I won’t touch that plow.” He said it with no hesitation.
Applejack’s stare softened, and her frown turned into a small smile. “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, Ah’m gonna take a quick nap.” She walked past Mac and caught sight of Twilight. “Oh, evening Twi, Ah didn’t see you there. You need something?”
“No, no,” Twilight said quickly. “I just came here to spend time with Big Macintosh.”
Applejack narrowed her eyes at Twilight for a second and then shrugged. “Alright then, stay outta trouble. Last thing Ah want is to clean up after another paper dart incident.”
Twilight’s cheeks flushed. “N-nothing to worry about, honest,” she said with a nervous smile.
Applejack smiled back and returned home. Macintosh stared as she disappeared amongst the apple trees. He sighed and turned away only to get his gaze caught in Twilight’s eyes.
“You’re going to break your promise, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
Macintosh looked away from her. “What if Applejack really is making the same mistakes I did? I didn’t have time for her, and now she’s doing the same to Applebloom. She’s gonna wake up one day with Applebloom all grown up, and she’s gonna feel the same regret I did.” A smile crossed his lips. “If there’s one thing you gotta know about me, Twilight, is that I’m an honest pony. I don’t break promises. Course, if the need arises, I might just go ahead and find a loophole or two.” Mac looked over at the shining plow beside the field. He didn’t need it. He knew where to find another one.
“I’ll help you,” Twilight said. Mac raised an eyebrow at her, and she explained. “I never made a promise, and I have experience in the field. Plus, you’re a bit out of practice, right?” Her eyes traveled down to his deflated chest and legs. “You could use my help.”
Mac chuckled. “You said it yourself, Twilight. I can do anything I set my mind on. I think it’s best if you go home. It’s getting dark, and I wouldn’t want you to get between me and Applejack’s squabbling.”
Twilight bit her lip and looked around the farm. “If you think that’s best,” she said. She sounded exhausted. “I hope everything turns out okay.” She waved and walked away, taking another path through the apple trees to get to Ponyville.
Mac sighed. “Yeah, me too.”
-*-
Big Macintosh retrieved his old, rusted plow from beneath a blanket at the very back of the barn. He lifted it up with his teeth. It weighed him down a lot more than he remembered. It took a few breaks for him to take it all the way to the southern fields. Things weren’t looking too good so far. He was already breaking a sweat from carrying the damn thing. At least getting his harness proved much easier, all it took was a bit of sneaky hoofwork.
In less than twenty minutes he was ready. He set the plow at the edge of Applejack’s twine border, and visualized the path he needed to take. He strapped himself to the plow, and padded the dirt with his hooves. He took a deep breath and stared down the patch of dirt. He was scared, but he clenched his teeth and began.
His loose harness placed great strain on his neck, but he ignored it as the plow screeched along the dirt. His heart felt fit to burst, but Mac fought against the pain. By the end of the first line, sweat soaked Mac’s body. He wiped his eyes, which only made them sting. Damn it, when did he become so weak? He only managed a tiny fraction of the work, and he already felt close to collapse. His muscles burned and cried for him to stop.
With deep, heaving breaths Mac continued his work. When he finished the first field his legs started to shake. He felt light-headed, and the world began to spin a bit. Macintosh ignored the pain beginning to well up in his legs and chest. He grabbed the plow and moved it to the start of the other field to continue. He didn’t bother to catch his breath. He didn’t have time. He needed to finish before Applejack found him. But, even with all the exertion, he actually felt...content. He’d even say happy.
Each step felt like a drumbeat. Every aching muscle another note to a symphony, all measured in bars of gritted teeth. He stopped only when his front hoof stepped outside of Applejack’s marked boundary for the last time. The work was finished. He unhitched himself from the plow and allowed the harness to slip off his neck. Mac collapsed on his side, rolled onto his back, and grinned at the sky.
The wind picked up and pierced his wet coat. There were no clouds today, and the sky blazed red as the sun started to descend beneath the horizon. Mac’s grin faded as he realized how good he felt, how utterly complete he felt. He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. He took another deep breath as a sudden realization overtook him. So that’s how it was, huh?
“Big Macintosh Apple!” Applejack’s yell echoed throughout the entirety of Sweet Apple Acres.
Damn. He had hoped for a bit more time to rest before Applejack woke up. By her hoofsteps, she was at a full gallop toward Mac. She appeared in his field of vision a second later, a scowl twisting her face, teeth bared.
“I can’t believe this,” Applejack started. “Ya broke your promise and–”
“I didn’t break my promise,” Mac said. “I never touched that plow.” He pointed at the steel plow still gleaming in the last rays of the sun. “I touched that plow.” He gestured a hoof to the rusted iron on the other side of the field.
“You know what I mean!” Applejack said. “Now stand up so Ah can yell at ya properly.”
Mac sighed and rolled over on his hooves. He shook a bit as he stood, but ignored it. “Applejack, I’d love to argue with ya. The yelling, the name calling, the whole nine yards. But this ain’t an argument, this is me telling you the truth. You can’t handle the farm on your own, and Twilight tells me you ain’t open to getting any help, so I’m not going anywhere. I can’t.”
Applejack took a step back, completely disarmed, but she soon found her glare and came forward again. “You’re wrong. Ah can handle this farm just as well as you can.”
“I had you, Granny Smith, and Applebloom helping me,” Mac rebutted. “Let’s get down to brass tacks, AJ. Granny Smith is getting too old to help, and we both know Applebloom ain’t showin’ any interest in farm work. You can’t take care of the farm all by yourself.”
“You did!”
“Sugarcube–”
“Don’t you ‘sugarcube’ me, you ol’ snakebite,” Applejack interrupted. Her eyes watered. “Three years, Mac! Three years you were on this farm doin’ everything by yourself. Ah begged ya to let me help, but you wouldn’t have none of it. It got to the point where Ah didn’t want to be on this stupid farm anyway, but this place is my home, and Ah had to show you my cutie mark and yell at ya in order to even work here. You want brass tacks? Then how ‘bout this: you can’t handle me takin’ over yer precious farm. You don’t think Ah’m good enough. You never thought Ah was good enough.”
Mac stared at her for a long time, and humor bubbled up in his stomach. He laughed, loud and long, at the very thought. He laughed so hard his eyes watered. He wiped his face with a foreleg.
“Not good enough?” he repeated, and just saying the words made him chuckle. “Sugarcube, you’re too good to work on the farm. Back then, if I had my way you’d still be in Manehattan with Aunt and Uncle Orange, but when you came back I figured since it was your choice to work I should let ya.” He shook his head, still unbelieving of what Applejack said. “For the love of Celestia, the day you became the Element of Honesty was the happiest day of my life. Every single one of my regrets vanished that day. Every. Single. One.
“Applejack, when the ol’ palace scribes write your story there ain’t gonna be a farm. Ah’ll be lucky if they even mention a brother, but that’s fine by me. Because in some small, little way I helped you do what I could only dream of. You showed the world what a small pony with a funny accent from a hodunk patch of mud could do. You made it. The shining star mom always knew you’d be.
“That’s why you need me to stay. The last thing you need to be doing is runnin’ yourself ragged over this stupid farm. Your family, your friends, Equestria, they all need you. That’s your work, surgarcube. It’s where you belong. Me? My place is where the plow cuts the dirt, that’s where all my meaning is. That’s what I’m good for. Plain as the cutie mark on my backside. That’s my destiny: to take care of the farm so you can take care of Equestria.”
Macintosh laughed again, but it lost its energy and its mirth. It was a hollow laugh, a forced one, as he pieced everything together and realized what that truly meant for him. He turned away from his sister and looked up at the sky, now lit up with stars.
“Seems like an awfully cruel thing for destiny to do, don’t it?” he said. “To have me live a life I could’ve had, to make me learn all these new things, meet all these new ponies, make all these new friends, just to take me ‘round in circles. But I don’t mind. At least now I ain’t got a doubt where my place is.”
Macintosh turned back to his sister, and a hoof smacked him hard across the cheek, almost bringing him to the ground. Applejack stared at him with a tearful glare, her hoof still raised.
“You thick-headed, numb-skulled, soft-brained idiot!” she yelled at him. “What kind of hogwash are you spoutin’? ‘That’s my destiny’? That’s the dumbest damn thing you ever said and you’ve said some really dense things over the years. Ah’ve got plenty of friends who don’t think things through, so Ah’ve seen stupid done six ways from Sunday, but you, big brother, are a bona fide moron!” Applejack waited for Mac to get himself steady on his hooves before continuing. “You’ve been talking to Twilight, right? And how Ah can’t do everything on the farm myself? Well, if it’s got you talkin’ like this then Ah’m gonna hire a couple more Apples to help around here, and if Ah ever hear you talkin’ like that again, Ah’m gonna sell this damn farm. Then we’ll see if you still think you gotta be forced to work here. Ah’m serious, Mac. Ah’ll sell it, and we’ll have enough bits between us to never work another day in our lives, then we can go stir-crazy together.”
“But sugarcube, you love the farm.”
“Damn straight Ah do, but Ah love you a hundred times more. Now look me in the eyes, and tell me what you’re gonna do.”
Macintosh smiled, still rubbing his cheek to numb the pain. He looked her directly in the eyes. “I’m gonna move to Canterlot, maybe get lucky enough to live happily ever after.”
Applejack took a deep breath and smiled, an honest to goodness smile. “Good. Now move outta the way, Ah gotta inspect your work.” She pushed past him stared at the lines in the dirt for several seconds. “Not bad, all nice an’ straight. Gotta hand it to ya, Mac, Ah thought you might’ve lost yer touch.”
Mac gave her a playful scoff. “Me? Lose my touch? I could plow straight lines with a blindfold on.” He smiled, but it slowly dissolved. “Applebloom was really disappointed when you didn’t go with her to see the butterflies. You understand why that’s important, right?”
“Yeah, Ah know,” Applejack said, still staring at the new fields. “Guess Ah got so caught up with doin’ a good job Ah was making the same mistakes you were. Ah’ll make it up to her tomorrow, take a day off and go for a hike or somethin’. Sound good?”
Big Macintosh’s smile returned. “Eeyup.”
“Mac!” A pony sized force of nature slammed into Macintosh, sending both of them rolling through the dirt. When’s Mac’s eyes stopped spinning, he found himself on his back with Rainbow Dash standing on his stomach. The mare was beaming like the sun. She was drenched in sweat, and her mane looked an absolute mess. She had her forelegs wrapped around his neck before he could say a word.
“I made it, Mac. I made it. All that training paid off!” Dash spoke a mile a minute and hugged him so hard he couldn’t breathe.
Applejack ran up to them. “Rainbow, what the heck are ya–”
Rainbow Dash leapt off Mac and tackled Applejack to the ground with a hug. “I made it, Applejack! I’m a Wonderbolt, a real Wonderbolt. Well, after I complete a year of intensive training, at least. But I’m in! It’s a sure thing!”
“Whaddya mean yer in?” Applejack asked. “How do ya know? Where even were ya today?”
“I’ll explain everything later,” Rainbow Dash said with a laugh. “I gotta go tell the others. Party at Twilight’s place tonight! See ya!” She broke the sound barrier as she rushed to Ponyville. Mac and Applejack looked at each other.
“Go ahead,” Mac said. “I know you wanna chase after her.”
Applejack nodded. “Thanks, Mac. Ah’ll see ya later.” She galloped after Rainbow Dash, leaving Macintosh to his own devices. Left all alone on the big, wide farm, Macintosh decided to do some more stargazing on the usual hill. He grabbed his saddlebags, which he tossed beside the fields, and headed in the hill’s direction. He’d been thinking way too much today, and a bit of idle staring would put him at ease.
The only sounds around the farm belonged to insects giving their last hurrah before winter reclaimed the land. The biting wind could make a pony think it already arrived, but there were still several weeks of autumn left.
On his way, Mac spied a silhouette at the horizon approaching the farm. Forgetting the hill, he went to investigate. The pony came closer, and he quickly realized it was Octavia making her way back to the farmstead. She was alone, and so Mac rushed to her. She smiled when she saw him, and Mac felt his body become lighter.
“I missed ya,” he said with a smile. It was the truth, but he didn’t realize how much he meant it until the words left him. It had been a long day for him, and he missed the ease of existing around Octavia. The way she could care less about dramatic decisions and deep talks of fate.
“I missed you too.” She chuckled and looked at the ground with a shake of her head. “I must be going soft, but it’s true.” She walked past him toward the farmstead. “Walk me to my cello, won’t you?”
Macintosh nodded and walked alongside her. “So how was your day with Rarity?”
“Fine, just fine. I was surprised to learn that we have so much in common. That said, she’s a personality I can only take in...limited doses.”
“That so?” Mac asked with a raised eyebrow. “What’d you two talk about anyway? Hope it wasn’t about me.”
Octavia laughed. “Our conversation, I imagine, was similar to those had by any other pair of mares who share a love interest: we made business proposals and personal wagers. Some about you, others not.” She waved a hoof to dismiss the subject, and moved on to other gossip. “Did you know she refuses to move to Canterlot or Manehattan where almost all her clients come from? I called out how much of a stupid decision that was, and I still don’t understand her answer.”
Macintosh pricked his ears. “What’d she say?”
“Some nonsense about staying close to her friends,” Octavia said with a scoff. “As if moving a town over would threaten her friendships. For a mare that holds her friends so dearly, she doesn’t seem to have much faith in them. By the way she talked you would have thought they would disappear the moment she got on a train.”
“I don’t think that’s what it is,” Mac said. “When you spend so much of your time with a friend, you start to love ‘em like family. You love ‘em so much that the thought of being away from ‘em starts to hurt.” Mac smiled and shook his head with a laugh. “But you’re right. Those bonds are strong enough to handle some distance. Maybe once she realizes it ain’t goodbye she’ll leave. Or heck, maybe she’s found her place and has got no reason to go. My money’s on that.”
Octavia shrugged. “If she wants to stay here, then better for me. Less competition that way.” She shot a predatory smirk at Macintosh, and he pretended not to notice. The two climbed the steps of the front porch. They entered the farmstead, and Octavia found her cello in the middle of the living room between Granny Smith sleeping in her chair and Applebloom reading a book on the couch.
The sound of the door caught Applebloom’s attention. She dropped her book and trotted up to Mac. Octavia ignored the little filly and went straight for her cello.
“Can Ah talk to ya, big brother?” Applebloom asked.
Mac tilted his head. “Sure, sugarcube, anytime about anything.”
“Ah was thinking about how Applejack couldn’t come with us to see the butterflies because she had too much work. Applejack used to always have time to hang out before when you worked on the farm too. So Ah thought that if you go back to work, things’ll go back the way they were before. Applejack wouldn’t have to work so hard, and she could hang out again.”
Mac smiled. “Actually, sugarcube, I–”
“I’m sorry, did I hear you correctly,” Octavia interrupted, her cello on her back. She glared down at Applebloom, and the filly pinned her ears back. Mac tapped Octavia’s shoulder in an attempt to force his way back into the conversation, but Octavia pushed his hoof aside.
“Listen well, little filly. This morning you had a choice: spend time with your friends or spend time with your sister. You made your choice, just as your sister made a choice, and just as your brother made a choice. Now you want your brother to work so you won’t have to make another? That’s not how things work.”
Mac cleared his throat, placed a foreleg across Octavia’s chest, and gently pushed her back. “As I was sayin’, sugarcube,” Mac said, reasserting himself into the conversation. “You ain’t gotta worry about a thing. I talked to Applejack, and she’s agreed to bring in a couple more Apples to help out around here.”
Applebloom gasped. “More Apples? Do ya think she’ll hire Babs?”
“I don’t see why not, so long as she can handle the work,” Mac said. “You should talk to Applejack about it, I’m sure she’ll be glad to have some suggestions.” He stooped down to give Applebloom a hug and a quick goodbye. He went to Granny Smith, did the same, and whispered in her ear. Granny Smith gave him a slow nod and patted his head.
He turned to Octavia and beckoned toward the door. “Let’s go home.”
Octavia grimaced but followed Macintosh out of the door anyway. They walked side by side toward Ponyville with a lot more space between them than Macintosh would have liked.
“Something wrong?”
Octavia huffed. “You’re too easy on her, on both of your sisters. You make things too easy for them, and they end up taking you for granted as a result.”
“They ain’t gotta grow up like we did,” Mac said. “If I can make their life as easy as possible, then I will. Besides, it ain’t like they got it easy. They both got their own challenges to get through, especially Applejack. As for Applebloom, well, a little filly like her has to explore. Try new things, explore new places. Best to do it when you’re young. It’s much harder when you get older.”
Octavia shook her head. “That may be true, but just be warned, Macintosh. If you keep putting the needs of other ponies before your own, then you’re never going to be happy.”
Mac smiled. “That’s okay. I already know I wouldn’t be happy if I didn’t.”
Octavia sighed and ran a hoof through her mane. “That’s exactly what Rarity said.” She took a few steps and then her eyes widened, and she stared at Mac with a tilt of her head. “You said we were going home?”
“Eeyup,” Mac said.
Octavia gave him a challenging smirk. “Does that mean you’re coming with me on the train? Coming with me down the streets of Canterlot and into my building and up that elevator and through my door?”
Mac shrugged. “You could say it like that. All I know is I’m going where you’re going.”
Her smirk changed into a genuine smile, and it appeared almost kind in that starlit path between Sweet Apple Acres and Ponyville. She closed the gap between them so that their sides almost touched.
“Then does that also mean you plan to share a room with me?” Octavia asked. She was daring him to answer her.
“Depends,” Mac said, just as capable in asking daring questions. “Am I sharing a room with my marefriend?”
Octavia blew a puff of air to move a stray strand of her mane away from her face. She remained silent, and they both had their answers. That was fine by Macintosh. He would never push Octavia into a decision, yet he was ready to move on and hoped she would make up her mind soon. She seemed so willing to take their relationship to a more intimate level, but shied away from any sort of commitment and formality. In the end, he simply shrugged, knowing full well that a pony’s mystery was their own, and it was quite rude to try and decipher it.
On the way to the train station they passed by the library. Music blasted from within, and through the lighted windows Mac could see the silhouettes of dancing ponies. It looked like Dash’s impromptu party was in full swing. He wondered if he should pop in to say goodbye, but ultimately decided against it. There was no need for it. He would be back in Ponyville soon enough, amongst his friends and family. He knew where to find them, and he knew that they would always be there to help him.
He hoped they knew he would be there for them as well.
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Wow this story updated good times. I am slightly disappointed that he did not get to say goodbye to Pinkie Pie. It always seemed like they had a good connection in this story. Hopefully she will come to visit him.
... Okay, so after pinching myself a few times, I'm sure this is not a dream.
So that's awesome.
just a couple days ago, I was looking at this and wishing it'd update, and here we are.
The update is as good as usual, but it's clear the time away has faded the story slightly.
Still, and as always, looking forward to the next chapter.
An update! *happy dances*
The one time you decide not to say goodby,
Is usually the time you never get a second chance.
An amazing update, and heck of a complicated situation.
Yes, update. I think my heart skipped a beat.
Mac please get your body back to Big Mac status. I don't like how you're being described physically. That's not the Mac I know.
And way to go Dash! 
Oh, Mac.
Stubbornness and a bit of luck is exactly talent.
Become a genius of hard work, Big Mac-san.
A child is born into the world with no thought of the many years that lie before them… It is only as the years unfold before us that we begin to see with greater clarity our lives and how we must spend them. With time we all eventually come to accept who we are, and who we are is determined by the way in which we conduct ourselves from day to day. The journey of life is both as ancient as the stars and as fleeting as a child's fancy - to make the most of what we have is ultimately all we truly do have, in the end...
This was the first story I ever read on this site. It is also still considerably the best, if only for the profound message it has to offer on what it means to live. I am overjoyed to see a new chapter, and while the signs of it finally drawing to a close are evident, I can only eagerly await what lies ahead in the future.
After all, the only truth of life that all men agree upon, is that time marches on.
Little Big Mac sure has grown, hasn't he?
It's such a pleasure to see this story update and see the progress he has made.
IT LIVES!
It's always nice to see a new chapter. Month after month you see no update you start to think it's dead.
Eh, I've read worse fanfics.
Rarity and Octavia are going to be the death of him.
6635087 I wholeheartedly agree with your statement!
Wow i just read the last chapter yesterday seems christmas came early
6635166
But what a way to go!
Ah, I love it when a story is updated after a long period of time. I always feel that I have to reread the previous chapter or two to get back up to speed, so one update usually turns into a few chapters of reading.
... which is why it's now 4 AM.
I'm an idiot.
if everypony pools they’re knowledge
their
filled the box to it’s brim
its
it’s four legs attached
its
a rush of warmth sprung
sprang
Drawings great but
Drawing's
Canterlot had it’s own sights
its
That’s your work, surgarcube.
sugarcube
Awesome. A new update!
It almost felt like an ending chapter. Thank god it didn't end.
Did this undergo a rewrite?
Kinda like stories like this sometimes. With the slow updates, you have to reread the whole story because you forgot wth is going on and it reminds you of the reason you liked the story anyways.
my initial reaction once knowing this updated after so ... so long.
HHHOLY SHIIET
no...
i feel as if the gradual hinting that mac is losing... or has lost his muscle mass is like an allusion of him losing his identity.
but hey, this chapter ended on a happy note and im really happy about that.
Kudos to you mr author dude man sir. another chapter well done and here's to hoping for another awesome chapter in the future
Every time I see an update on this chapter have to stop and read it and every time I'm always amazed by how you write it so well that it leaves me wanting more
Yay~! I have been waiting for this story to update for so long. Its just that good. I mean.
You know what I mean!!!
I just love this chapter so much! Mac telling Applejack how much he wished that she had never come back to work on the farm, and her threatening to sell it, reminding him that this never was about the farm in the first place. I love how those moments turn the whole story on its head and then right back over again.
And then that ending. Octavia has been worming her way so well into his heart but there is still a limit on what she is willing to give to win him. Mac gives her his own conditions and she hesitates. Octavia has made tons of progress and I love her character, but my worry that she won't be able to fulfill Mac's need for commitment are back full swing. He needs to be dedicated to her as his new 'family' in order to live. I love it!
Oh, hey, look! A new chapter!
...I'm gonna have to read the previous chapter first so I can recall the previous events...
edit...
I freaking lost it.
He didn't say goodbye to Winona.
Another wonderful chapter. Octavia is a bit sharsh... but I bet she's just hiding something deep within. Else it'd be really shallow.
So... another almost a year until the next chapter?
It was great to read Applejack and Big Mac's confrontation, that had been a long time coming. It really does look like he's going to move away from the farm forever, maybe become an artist in Canterlot. I suspect Rarity will move up her time table to get a franchise location in Canterlot now.
I noticed this isn't marked complete. It certainly feels like this would be a perfectly fine ending. Is this done and you forgot to change the tag, or is there more coming?
God, I had so many ships for this story. Rarity and Mac seems like the most obvious contender. However I was rooting for the dash/Mac pairing. I really liked the way they interacted. Finally at the least likely end, but still hinted at was the intellectual pairing of Twi/Mac. It's pretty interesting to think about how different his life might have been depending on his choice their.
Though I don't know why he wouldn't go to the party, it's a little cold when you know they would want to see him off and dash is celebrating.
This story goes nowhere very quickly, and somewhere very slowly. And I can never quite tell which one is what, or what thing is which, at any given moment. And I adore it.
As someone who compulsively has to stop himself from analyzing where a story is going or could go or might go or will go, this is one of the only works I've ever read that's shut that portion of my brain almost completely off. Because it doesn't really matter. Every single page and chapter makes it very clear that the journey is so much more important.
A lot of other stories and authors try it, but there are very few that make it work so well.
It updated...
And now I need to re-read the entire thing because I can't remember anything that happened in the 16 oldest chapters.
I've been reading fanfiction for... four years? Has it been five? I've lost track of the time. Days, months, years, after a while they just all begin to blend together. I've written for just as long, or at least I dare to pretend I have. I've come across many fictions that have moved me, made me stop and think, and above all else feel emotions. It's a great thing, wonderful even, that such a thing can move us. Me. I've had my fair share of run ins with fics, but this one. This fic, takes the cake.
Honestly, by how this chapter ended, I had feared, and hoped that maybe this was the end. That doesn't make sense, does it? While I both long for this story to continue, I almost dared believe it had also ended. The end of this chapter gives you enough closure to see that hey, you know, things are okay and pones are gonna pone. Since the completed tag is not on, I am excited to see what else is in store for this story. Since I first discovered this story way back when, with ever chapter release I re-read the entire story. This is the only fic in which I do so. Why?
I just... don't know. Why is it this story of all the thousands on this site that makes me feel this way? I'm giddy when I need to be. Sad when I need to. Heartwarming when the time is right. Is it your writing? Your characterization? I just don't know... and honestly I don't need to be told why. The point is every time I read this story I feel something, and that's what matters to me. It's been a long time coming for an update, and you know what? I don't mind. I can't say crap when it comes to update speed, so I feel ya when life just gets in the way. Either it's actual work, inspiration, mood, etc.
That being said, ten months is quite a while between chapters... and you know what? I'd gladly wait double that time for the next chapter, if it meant getting this same quality and effort into the work.
Now if you'll excuse me, I got a bottle of whiskey to kill, a beer to finish, then I gotta get myself ready for work. Good luck, and I eagerly await the next chapter, whenever that time may be.
Yee haw.
6673237 the same here, but i only have one more thing to say. It is always better a short ( yeah i know, this one is not short) that a long not ended story
I love this story. The character developments, the interactions, the details, the pacing, it is all great. I loved how you wrote Big Mac and I love your interpretation of Octavia. My time was well spent on this FIC. It has my David Crespo stamp of approval.
Decided to finally read this story and so far I'm far from being disappointed. Definitely looking forward to future updates, so keep up the amazing work.
Still reading it. Still loving it.
My mind is still chewing on that last chapter. I keep second guessing where I think the story is going, but then I go right back to the same theories. What could it be, Ivory? Whaaaaat is it...
YES! YES! YES! Mac's finally found it!!!
Wait wha-!? No you idiot don't... wha... what are you doing!!??
...............no.......
I swear every time I read another chapter I have new cause to wonder at how masterful this is!
You are in the field of professional writing now yes? And if not, why not? You could be and should be!
You must hear this all the time but this story is just that good! All Mac's steps forward and steps back! I have no idea what's best for him anymore. And trying to work out where this is going is a fools errand to say the least!
All we can do is wait and see.... wait oooooooh so long!
6644991 And then suddenly, Disco-Mac! Because chaos!
Twilight thought differently about not changing anything after her reunion with Moondancer.
On a different note I am glad that Applejack has been made to realize she was making the same mistake as her brother. I also think that Octavia is being too hard on hard on Macintosh about his sisters life doesn't have to contain a lot of hardships after all. Besides what she went through is nothing compared to what the Royal Sisters went through for a Thousand years.