//------------------------------// // Applejack: Heart of Gold // Story: Her Song of Jubilation // by Impossible Numbers //------------------------------// Coloratura stopped dead. She stared. Applejack was just as she last remembered her: Stetson hat placed on her head with the comfort and command a king couldn’t achieve with a crown; ponytail draped across the back of her neck; the earthy colour of her fur, clashing with the mane and tail, giving the impression of straw rising from clay-rich soil. Same few freckles flecked on her cheeks. Coloratura realized she hadn’t moved for almost a whole minute, yet Applejack had long since leaped out of her seat and lunged for her, crying out her name. Her friend pulled back from a hug that she’d barely noticed through the shock. “Of all the places to find you!” said Applejack in a rush. “As soon as Ah got the letter from Cherr –” Her eyes darted over to the desk, where Coloratura just had time to see Cherry Jubilee lower her forelimbs. The old mare glanced hurriedly at the ceiling. “Ah mean,” said Applejack, “Ah’d been wonderin’ for weeks what the hay happened to you. Ah heard everythin’ an’ believed about half of it, because my word! Ah jus’ had to come see for myself.” In anyone else’s mouth, Coloratura thought, I’d say that was almost gloating. Not in hers. “AJ?” she managed to breathe at last. “You OK, Rara?” said Applejack quietly. Finally, the shock began to dissipate. Senses came oozing back. First, the smell of apple pie baking in the oven, of acidic cider brewing in the vats, and of the sheer overwhelming sweat and musk of a pony who’d bucked trees all week and clearly hadn’t taken a bath afterwards. Second, she could feel the steady beating in Applejack’s chest when she reached forwards, grabbed her by one forelimb, and yanked her close. “Letters,” she said quietly, “are nowhere near good enough. We need to meet up more often.” They drew apart, her beaming, Applejack grinning. “Sure as sugar we do! When we’re not outing slimy managers, that is, aheheh. Ah got a family reunion comin’ in a few moons that’d make a fine excuse to meet up an’ catch up.” “But…” Along with her five senses, a cold reality came crawling back to her. “What are you doing here? All the way out in Dodge, I mean. You can’t have known –” “Ah wanted,” Applejack said, stepping back and placing her Stetson on her chest, “well, to say sorry. For what Ah did, Ah mean. Yeah, Ah know what you’re gonna say” – she raised the be-hatted hoof when Coloratura opened her mouth – “you’re gonna say it was the bes’ thing that ever happened, that without me you’d still be Svengallop’s puppet, that Ah know the real you an’ helped you find it too, an’ all that stuff. An’ Ah ain’t apologizin’ for all that. But look where you are now. There’s no gettin’ around what pie Ah made out of that fruit basket.” “Applejack,” said Coloratura quickly, “you’re not making sense! That wasn’t your fault!” “It was,” said Applejack, so plainly and quietly that Coloratura fell silent again. “Ah din’t mean it, an’ Ah never, never woulda wished anything bad on you even if my life was at stake doin’ so. But Ah’m still responsible for it. It’s as simple as that.” “Then you’re forgiven! I’m not giving up on my dreams whatever it takes. You believed in me, and that’s enough.” Applejack sighed and replaced her Stetson. “It ain’t. Ah’m sorry. It jus’ ain’t.” Beside the pair, Cherry Jubilee had her usual inscrutable half-stare. She was standing by one of the firefly jars, and dim as it was, it seemed to cast a notable shine around her lower corneas like flames shining on a film of water. It was hard for Coloratura to tell. “That’s why Ah’m here.” She watched as Applejack sat down on the boards. “Ah wanna make up for it.” “There isn’t –” Coloratura willed herself to calm down. Whatever skull-boring headache had gone away earlier was now digging its way back in. With a softer voice, she continued, “You don’t have to make up for anything. So Manehattan doesn’t see what you see. I don’t need fame. I don’t need to be number one in the charts. I just need to sing the way I love to sing. Applejack, you remember that day back in Friendship Camp, when you first encouraged me to sing the old Equestrian anthem?” “How could Ah forget?” Applejack turned to Cherry Jubilee. “Ah won’t ever forget somethin’ that special. Her cutie mark was shinin’ like the sun that day. Now there’s a moment when Ah wish Ah had a camera.” Cherry Jubilee smiled and nodded. It could have been genial acknowledgement or just a polite gesture. “Well,” continued Coloratura, feeling the warmth sneaking into her voice and trying to hold it back calmly, “do you think I liked it because it made me the talk of the camp? That’s what I thought. That’s why I went to Manehattan instead of staying at home. It was a mistake. I like being popular, but I love being good. I love being popular because I’m good. Svengallop was good at” – she choked at those words, but forced herself to continue – “spectacle, pizzazz, popularity. And ponies like that. Well, they’re welcome to it. But that isn’t what’s behind the singer’s power. He just saw enough to know he’d make a buck off it, but you saw everything.” This much speech wore her out from the lungs to the throat. She glanced at the firefly jar, ignoring Cherry Jubilee’s impassive face. “Before we met at the charity concert,” she finished, “I hadn’t seen my cutie mark shine in years.” She ignored the way Applejack’s foreleg moved up to her snout, and the slight sniffs that followed. Suddenly, she wanted to turn around and go back upstairs. Oh no, did I really just say all that? Why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut? She’s going to be so embarrassed, and she’s already worked herself up to a guilt trip. “This is so much like Friendship Camp,” Applejack said, with such self-control that Coloratura looked round at her again. She gestured to the lobby around them. “You know? Ah remember you always said exactly what you were thinkin’, sometimes without thinkin’. That’s what makes you who you are. Heck, we’re even in a timber lodge again. That’s downright spooky.” Oh, I don’t know, thought Coloratura, and her mind wandered back to her written song under the bed. Not that spooky. “So what are you doing here, exactly?” “An’ here’s me, tryin’ to get you to sing again…” Applejack seemed to wake up, giving herself a quick shake. “Sorry? Oh. Well… Ah was thinkin’… what with me gettin’ you into trouble an’ all… Aw heck, Ah might as well jus’ come out an’ say it. Rara, Ah wanna help you out, one Apple to another.” “But I’m not an Apple pony.” Coloratura felt her cheeks squeezing against the blush she knew was creeping in. “I’m not even a real farmer.” “You sow songs and reap admirin’ fans.” Applejack winked. “Close enough for me. An’ you’re as good as kin to me, anyway.” This time, the armour cracked: Cherry Jubilee gave a loud sniff and dabbed at her eyes with her neckerchief. The two pretended furiously not to notice. Coloratura’s neck muscles throbbed with the effort. “So me an’ my friends in Ponyville were wonderin’ if you’d like to come back an’ sing for us. We could put on a show, or set up another charity fundraiser for everyone in town. Ah know the Mayor’d be thrilled to host a show by you, an’ the Cakes an’ my Granny an’ some of the other farmers already offered to provide the caterin’, an’ Ah jus’ know Pinkie and Twilight between ‘em would have it ready an’ waitin’ faster than a cow turns grass to milk. We could be your managers for a bit – Rarity’s got a heck of a head for numbers – an’ Dash, ‘Shy, an’ Spike could do some promotin’ around town with banners an’ announcements an’ stuff. We got it all covered. A chance to make it up to you. Get you back on track. All you gotta do is say yes.” Everything seemed to slip by, except Applejack’s far too cheesy grin and the final words. All she had to do was say yes. The excitement raced on before she’d even taken stock. Just like the stage at camp! My word, was it really that many years ago? The song shining with my cutie mark… Everyone going ‘Wow’ and talking like they’d just met the Princess herself… All she had to do was say yes. Right here, right now, while she was still stinking of cherries and bad breath. It wouldn’t happen twice. But it has happened twice already! She remembered galloping across the fields – no, away from the fields – ignoring the cries of her parents far behind her. Back then, the only cheers she’d heard were those of the annoying birds she’d chased away from the fields over and over and over again. Any tool involving a handle had made her feel like she’d been punched in the mouth. Then she’d fallen in the mud one time too many, and something haughty and careless and brash had shouted NO! They’d brought her back. She’d been carried back, kicking and screaming and yelling how much she hated farming. When they backed off or cried or pleaded, she still refused to do any chores. When they tried grounding her, she just laughed and slipped out the window to hit the night clubs in the next town over. And then they’d sent her to Friendship Camp. It was a compromise. Besides, she’d been dying to get away; when they asked her, she couldn’t say “Yes” fast enough. At least until she saw the mud pits, and then tried to leap out the cabin window under the moonlight. I could go back to when it all started, she thought. Way back at camp. “Uh…” Applejack’s voice briefly surfaced through the sea of thoughts, “are you feelin’ OK, Rara?” You were right, AJ. This IS exactly like camp. We were mucking in the mud, doing all kinds of fun things, meeting all kinds of nice ponies over lunch. And you heard me trying to sing myself a lullaby one night, and you said “Good gravy, girl! Let’s put on a show. You’re too good to leave doin’ nothin’ but chores with a voice like that.” “Only you’ve been standin’ there starin’ at nothin’ for a while,” Applejack continued. Vaguely, Coloratura could tell the mare was blushing. One show would be enough. She’d spread word among the campers, who’d told their parents, who’d told one of the Rich family, who’d gotten her a gig as part of his promotional campaign for his new line of chain stores. From village to town. From town to city. And then, Manehattan… “Ah could give you some time to think, if you like?” Applejack’s face widened with worry now. …where the likes of Svengallop had told her what a big girl she was, what an image she carried. The hauteur. The disdain. The cold comfort of the cynically aloof. Oh, she’d been the Countess he could only have dreamed of before. Coloratura blinked back into the present, and was mildly amused to see her friend actually flinch at this. “Rara? Seriously, you OK?” Applejack half-crouched, weighed down by some private misery. “Ah din’t want to put any pressure on you, Ah swear! Ah thought you’d jump at this.” “I’m fine, AJ,” Coloratura said, her voice steady as a rock. “It was a bit out of the blue, but…” She looked across at Cherry Jubilee, who waved a hoof airily. “Don’t look at me, sugar. This is your show. I jus’ wanted to talk to AJ once you’re done.” That’s not totally the truth, is it now? Aloud, she said, “But what about you? I can’t just up and leave. You heard what AJ said, didn’t you?” “Sugar,” said Cherry Jubilee, shrugging, “over the years I’ve seen ponies come an’ go, sometimes on the same day” – she glanced at Applejack when she said this – “but still the plantation lives on. Ah don’t stop feedin’ it, you see. You think you’re needed elsewhere, then Ah ain’t gonna stop you. You jus’ gotta be sure that’s what you really want. Anyway, you’re a lousy sleeper.” Both Applejack and Coloratura suppressed a chuckle, and just like that the thoughts in her head stirred against the pebble thrown in. “I am just a pony,” came the words unbidden from her mouth. “Ain’t we all?” Cherry Jubilee glanced up at the ceiling for a moment. “Savin’ the griffons an’ the cows an’ the critters an’ the minotauruses an’ things, but they’re honorary ponies in my book.” Applejack barely heard her. Stretching up, she raised an eyebrow and cocked her head, one eye narrowing suspiciously. “Jus’ what are you sayin’, Rara?” Coloratura swelled where she stood. For a moment the Countess’ cold stare flashed across her face; she could feel the iron gates of her jaw closing and her eyes become stiletto daggers. “I’m saying –” she began. “Y… No.” And now she could imagine Applejack’s friends, some poised to raise banners, some looking up at a stage, some ready to adjust the lights overhead, but all of them frozen in place, waiting for a Coloratura-shaped hole that would never be filled. She wanted to be there. She wanted the explosion and the cheers and the first booming beats so badly she almost burst out into song there and then. But if that meant turning her back on the sweat and the soil, if that meant heading back into Manehattan to get knocked down again, learning nothing, then there was no other answer. “No!?” Applejack burst out. “Jus’ like that?” “AJ, we made a promise when we were at camp,” said Coloratura. There was no going back; she’d leaped out of the highest branches and now was not the time to wonder what was waiting below the leaves. “I would never hide who I really was if you wouldn’t, either.” “Well, yeah,” said Applejack, whose gaze darted across her face as thought trying to find a twitch of a clue where this was going. “And you know who I am, don’t you?” she continued. “What I am?” “Yes. You’re a singer.” “No. I’m a farmer.” “Oh, Rara!” Applejack chuckled with realization. “No, don’t think that. You don’t have to be tied down by where you come from. My friend Rarity –” “I mean right now, I’m a farmer. Cherry Jubilee offered me work and pay, and I intend to stick to it.” Cherry Jubilee opened her mouth, but then backed off a couple of steps out of the light and closed it again. “I’ll keep working for her until I’ve saved enough to spend my money my way. If I’m going to sing for all of Equestria, then I owe it to all of Equestria to know them better. I’ll travel for a bit. I’ll learn new kinds of music. I’ll never stop stretching myself, never let myself get put in a basket and be told to stay there. There’s a place for the Countess, but I’m more than that. I’m a farmer now, but I’m going to be an artist. The artist I’ve always wanted to be.” She saw their eyes flicker towards her cutie mark. Let them look, she thought with a thrill. A star, five musical notes, and five colours of the rainbow. I know what it means. “Ah’ll come visit ya,” said Applejack at once. “If ever you wanna stay still for a bit. Ah weren’t kiddin’ when Ah said we shouldn’t have lost touch.” Coloratura shook her head. “I’ll come visit you. It was my fault we stopped writing.” “No, it was my fault. You sent the last letter.” “I should have sent another!” “Ah shoulda replied to the firs’ one!” Cherry Jubilee waved a hoof and guffawed in such an unladylike way that they both turned and stared at her. “Tell you gals what. Let’s agree you both messed up, an’ I’ll make sure Miss Coloratura’s letters get to the mail pony when he comes in on the Monday. How’d you like that?” Coloratura nodded at once, smirking despite herself. “You drive a hard bargain, Miss Jubilee.” “Don’t I know it? That’s what my third beau said.” Both Applejack and Coloratura laughed, but nervously, because they weren’t sure if she was joking or not. And finally, after what felt like an eternity of aching and waiting, they both reached towards each other and tightened their grip on each other’s shoulders. Once more, Rara could feel AJ’s heart beating through her own pressed chest, and knew her own was drumming a faster beat back, replying through her friend’s chest in turn. Almost all the old memories came back: of pine forests stretching into the distance, of foals chattering excitedly about them, and of the echoes of guitar music and her own voice lingering in the musty air… They drew apart with some effort. Neither had wanted to let go, and Applejack was instantly all business again: “Ah’m so glad we got to see each other like this.” Something nagged at Coloratura’s memory. “So how did you know where I was exactly?” Applejack had never been good at secrets. Coloratura simply had to follow the errant eye twitch to Cherry Jubilee, who was inspecting the desk’s surface with far too much pout in her innocent expression. Apparently noticing them for the first time, the boss of Cherry Hill Ranch pawed at the wooden floorboards. “Uh, well… I heard things through the grapevine, an’ I might have put two an’ two together here an’ there…” “Moonlighting”, she’d said. She’s smart enough to know what that means, and just the sort to let it slip too. “Have you been reading my songs, Miss Jubilee?” Now her boss’ face was turning redder than even her famous cherries. “Uh… maybe… when I was cleanin’ up the rooms a bit… well, I know about all the secret boards an’ things… it’s not like I told anyone… and they were kinda good, you shouldn’t be ashamed of ‘em…” Coloratura narrowed her eyes, but part of her was rolling on the floor giggling. She’d never seen her boss look so much like a school filly caught by the teacher. Why, she even crouched more shamefully than Applejack had ever managed at her most bashful. “Uh… I suppose I could… leave the cleanin’ of that room to you nex’ time?” Cherry Jubilee ventured. “If you’d be so kind. Even at camp, I liked my privacy.” “Well, that’s that, then.” Applejack jumped in hastily, her hoof steering Coloratura back to their mutual conversation. “But since Ah’m here now, Ah suppose we got a lot o’ catchin’ up to do. Train don’t leave again until the mornin’, anyway.” “Of course! Come upstairs. Just be quiet as you go.” Coloratura let Applejack steer her to the steps beyond the open door. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do, AJ. You’ll never guess who else is here, for a start…” For a few seconds after the two had left, Cherry Jubilee listened to the blundering hooves going up the stairs and shook her head. Definitely Applejack, she thought grimly. Fine worker, but about as subtle as a herd of elephants in season. The crack of wood and the brief yelp cut it off for a moment, and then the galumphing resumed. She sighed and shifted the firefly jar back into position. “Well, that coulda gone better. You ol’ fool, Cherry. Why didn’t you jus’ let ‘em get on with it? You’re growin’ sentimental. Gotta think about the business firs’. I thought you’d have learned after that stunt AJ and her friends did.” She screwed up her mouth at the memory. Heck, did I have to scout fast after that li’l hitch. Yawning a little too theatrically, she rubbed both puffy eyes with the back of her hock and took two steps towards the exit. As she did so, she found herself imagining the cry of an excited announcer, the hubbub of the arena, and herself stepping towards the curtain, feeling young again… …when she heard a clatter of hooves against wooden steps behind her. “What in the hay –” she mumbled, turning around. Someone almost rammed into her. Before her mind had caught up with her front, she found herself seized in a tight hug around the neck. “Thank you,” whispered a quiet voice in her ear. Then Coloratura spun around and galloped out of the lobby again. Cherry Jubilee stared after her. Long after the thundering hoofsteps had died away, she raised a hoof to her neckerchief as if to check it was still there. She blinked a few times. A smile crept up her lips. When she turned back and strode through the exit doors, she began nodding to herself, and her cheeks burned with the blushing. Well… she thought sheepishly, you can say what you like about my methods, but the job does have its perks.