Rain thundered down on Sweet Apple Acres, slicking Rarity’s hooves with mud. She couldn’t find it in herself to care. She was beyond mud at this point. Her drenched mane clung to her neck and stuck to her legs, and still she couldn’t spare the energy to be bothered. In this instance, only one thing occupied her mind.
“How could you?!” Rarity shrieked across the storm. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! Do you even care?!”
Her answer returned across the muddy road, weak with despair. “I did what I had to,” Applejack replied. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Wouldn’t…” Applejack’s words only made Rarity angrier. “No, you don’t understand. You’ve ruined my life!” Her words fell on deaf ears. Applejack simply turned and took a few steps towards the house. Outraged, Rarity raced to get in front of her, shouting, “Don’t you walk away from me!”
As Rarity appeared before her, Applejack reared up and took a step backwards. “Back off, Rares,” she warned.
“Don’t you call me that,” Rarity snarled. “Don’t you dare. You don’t get to--”
“No, Rares, you don’t.” Applejack’s voice grew louder as rage began to well up inside of her. “You don’t come into my home and start trouble, not now. You got no idea what me and mine are going through, so don’t you start throwin’ around--”
“Well, I’m sorry the destruction of my future is so inconvenient for you!” Rarity shouted. Tears streaked down her face, racing the spatters of rain to the ground.
“This ain’t about you, Rarity!” Applejack fired back. “This was never about you!”
“No,” Rarity agreed. “It was always about you. But you don’t even care how many lives you destroy, do you?! So long as you get what you want, you don’t care who withers and dies in your--” Before she could finish, a guttural cry of anguish erupted from Applejack and Rarity quickly found herself on her back.
Rarity quickly threw her front hooves up to shield her face. Applejack pressed her down in the mud, pinning her with her superior strength. The terror in the unicorn's eyes was matched only by the dawning horror in Applejack’s own as her senses began to return to her. She turned her head to the side and looked at the hoof she held raised, ready to stomp down at Rarity.
Applejack pulled herself off of Rarity, rage turning quickly back into the hurt from whence it came. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Sorry?!” In turn, Rarity’s fear gave way to outrage. “You…you unconscionable brute…” She pulled herself off the ground, mud clinging to her back and mane.
“Go home, Rarity,” Applejack offered weakly. Shame wrestled with heartbreak, draining her of the strength to fight anymore. She turned to the farmhouse, using the strength still in her legs to carry her away from everything that didn’t matter anymore.
But Rarity was not satisfied. “Fine,” she answered snippily. “I’ll go. And I will never set hoof in this wretched place again.” She cried loudly and openly as she screamed, but emotion had carried her too far to back down now. “You are a heartless beast, Applejack, and I hope you spend the rest of your days miserable and alone, fruitlessly wiling away the hours until--”
“Oh my, Applejack, this is gorgeous!” Rarity’s horn glowed with magic as she levitated a small emerald broach. Three emerald apples inlaid with gold trim sat at the center of an intricately woven golden chain. “Wherever did you get this?”
“It belonged to my Mama,” Applejack explained. “My Daddy counted his bits for a year and a half to buy it, but he told Granny there weren’t nothin’ worth more to him in all Equestria. He gave it to Mama when they...” She took a deep breath, glancing around the boutique. Rarity had rarely seen her quite so nervous. Mustering her courage, she clarified, “This is Mama’s weddin’ broach. I’ve been wonderin’ what the cost might be to have this made into a horn ring.”
Rarity thought about the request for a few seconds, staring at the gorgeous broach, before the hidden meaning of the question dawned on her. “You intend to give this to Twilight!” she gasped. “Oh, Applejack, don’t you think it’s a bit soon?”
Applejack blushed. “I know it is. I ain’t plannin’ anything soon. I just want to know in case….” She drifted off, staring out the window for a few seconds and searching for the right words. In case of what? In case the desire ever struck her to tell Twilight just how much she loved her? In case the stars align just right? “In case it ever feels right,” she settled on.
Rarity smiled. The sincerity in Applejack’s voice warmed her heart. “This kind of jewelry is hardly my area of expertise, but I know a couple of ponies in Canterlot who might be willing to take on the job. I already have a meeting with Ruby Dream scheduled, so I should be able to get a price quote while I’m there. May I keep this for a few days?”
“Course,” Applejack answered. “Just be careful with it.”
“Absolutely.” Rarity levitated the broach and carefully folded its chains, wrapping them around the emerald apples. She placed it carefully in a small box, then laid the box into a small, intricate chest with a key sticking out of it. Closing the lid, she twisted the key once, then removed it. “There. Wouldn’t want Spike getting into that.”
“Speakin’ of, thanks for offerin’ to take him tonight. Don’t it ever bother you, him actin’ like a dog in heat when you’re around?”
“It can get to be too much sometimes,” Rarity admitted. “Still, it’ll be good to spend some quality time with him if he is ever to get over this little crush of his.”
Applejack blinked. “I don’t follow.”
“Spike has placed me on a pedestal,” Rarity explained. “He sees me as this heavenly vision of grace and beauty.” She giggled. “It’s quite flattering, but if we are ever to disabuse him of this notion that he and I will one day fly away into a romantic sunset without breaking his precious heart, then he first must learn to see me as a pony. That simply cannot happen if every time he sees me is a rare and special occasion.”
“Don’t know it’ll work like that,” Applejack replied, “but I get what you’re fixin’ to do. Long as the creek don’t rise, it might just work out.” With a wry grin, she asked, “And you’re sure this aint’ got nothin’ to do with you enjoyin’ having the ground you trod on worshipped?”
“I…” Rarity hesitated to answer the accusation. She blushed lightly and casually looked away from Applejack, insisting, “You have no evidence of that.”
“Uh-huh.” Applejack stepped forward and reached out with a hoof, giving Rarity a light hug. “Thanks for everythin’, Rares. I don’t know where I’d be without a friend like you.”
Rarity instinctively tried to pull away from the physical gesture of affection, but consigned herself to it and gave Applejack a couple cautious pats. She was careful to let as little of her hoof touch the ever-present sheen of dust caked into Applejack’s coat as possible.
Answering Applejack’s hypothetical, Rarity said, “Well, you’d have had to suffer through Twilight’s first few slumber parties all by yourself,” she jested. Then, more seriously, she added, “Though perhaps that would have been for the best, as you seem to still be having them.”
Applejack laughed. “We’ll try to remember to invite you one of these nights.”
Rarity stepped back. “Oh, no, the less I know of what transpires in your pillow forts, the happier I’ll be.”
Applejack chuckled. She started for the door, but she felt the sting of old wounds hold her back. She stared at the door for a few seconds as her jubilance turned somber. “Still ain’t quite like it was before,” she admitted.
“I know,” Rarity agreed. She looked out the window, watching a group of fillies playing with a kickball. “It likely never will be. We may forgive but we never truly forget, Applejack. An emotional scar is no less permanent than a physical one, and the voids we create never fully close.”
“I know. Rarity, I’m--”
Rarity cut her off, repeating her words from the Crystal Ball without giving Applejack so much as a glance. “Don’t apologize to me. Just be better. Oh, and Applejack?” The warm, friendly smile had returned to her face by the time she turned to look at her friend. “Have a pleasant evening tonight.”
The sun had just touched the horizon when Applejack arrived at the library, carrying a basket in her teeth. The door was slightly ajar on her approach. She peeked through the crack, and a smile crossed her face when she spotted Twilight sitting with Apple Bloom at the center table.
Apple Bloom’s schoolbooks were laid out on the table. She gnawed on her pencil’s eraser, staring intently at the sheet of paper place inside one edge of the book. Twilight was saying something to her, and she reached over with one hoof and pressed it against Apple Bloom’s back as she gestured to the book with the other.
Applejack eased the door open just in time to hear Apple Bloom cry, “I don’t know!”
Setting her basket down on the table, Applejack asked, “Ain’t goin’ well, I take it?”
“This ain’t makin’ any sense. I’m sorry Twilight.” Apple Bloom hung her head. “Maybe I just ain’t meant to know this stuff.”
“Hey!” Applejack chided. “Ain’t I ever told you--”
“I know, I know, can’t never could,” Apple Bloom replied, rolling her eyes.
“I know it’s difficult, but just give it some time. I’m sure you’ll pick it up.” Twilight looked up at Applejack. “She’s doing really well; she’s just having trouble with roots.”
“Roots are tricky,” Applejack agreed. “Can never quite tell how deep they go, but they’re the most important bit. Miss ‘em and you’re just gonna get new sprouts before you know it.”
“Square roots. She needs to find the root of thirty-six.” She lightly rubbed Apple Bloom’s back. “It’s okay, just don’t lose patience with it.”
Applejack thought for a moment. “It’s four, ain’t it?”
“What?!” Twilight’s eyes shot up to her partner, seated on the other side of Apple Bloom. “Why would it be four?”
Applejack leaned her head to the side, scratching at her ear with her hind hoof. “Well, for squares, ain’t you supposed to take a number and times it by itself?”
“Yes,” Twilight agreed, not sure where she was going with this.
“Well, you times four and eight and you get thirty-two. Then you’re just one four away from thirty-six.”
Twilight stared at Applejack for a few seconds, trying to find words and uncertain of whether she should dignify that. One question nagged at her, however. “Where did the eight come from?”
“Well, that’s two of the fours.”
Twilight immediately regretted asking. She stared speechlessly at Applejack, her mind brain racing to make sense of the formula that had just been created. That math wasn’t ‘’wrong’’ and she’d certainly used all the fours, but it was so far from what it was supposed to be. Worse, the multiplication in the middle of it actually made the formula more complicated than it even needed to be.
It was Apple Bloom who spoke up. “So it’s four?” she asked Twilight.
Slowly, Twilight shook her head. “No, it’s…no. Excuse us a moment.” She plugged her hooves into Apple Bloom’s ears, then hissed at Applejack, “You are not allowed to do math in front of your sister anymore.”
“Did I miss a four?” Applejack asked.
Ignoring the question, Twilight removed her hooves from Apple Bloom and explained, “The easiest way to find a root is to take common squares you already know and extrapolate from there. Choose a number.”
“Uh, five?” Apple Bloom asked.
“Don’t ask me. It’s your number.”
Apple Bloom nodded. “Alright, then I’m doin’ five. So it’s five times five, right?” She looked up to Twilight, who nodded approvingly. “That’s, uh…that’s twenty-five, so that’s too low--oh! It’s six! Six and six makes thirty-six!”
Twilight smiled. “That’s right! Good work, Apple Bloom!”
“Way to go, sugarcube,” Applejack complimented her beaming sister. She reached a hoof around Apple Bloom’s neck and pulled her into a hug. After a few seconds, she released, then told Twilight, “I’m gonna get started on dinner.” She bit down on a cookpot in her basket and carried it over to the fireplace.
Twilight watched Applejack go, then looked down at Apple Bloom. “Let’s do a few more equations before I have to send you home, okay?”
Apple Bloom’s eyes were already scanning over the next problem in her book. “I think I can do this one on my own,” she told Twilight.
“Very well. Let’s see it.”
By the time Applejack finished dinner, Apple Bloom had gathered her books and began walking home. Twilight had offered to walk her home, but Apple Bloom insisted with a wry giggle that she didn’t want to intrude on the pair’s special night.
To Twilight’s surprise, Applejack seemed gloomy as she stirred her pot. “Is something wrong with dinner?” she asked.
“It ain’t the spaghetti,” Applejack admitted, letting go of the ladle to speak.
“Is it me?” was Twilight’s next question. Applejack hesitated to respond, the silence answering Twilight’s question with more certainty than any words could have.
Applejack stared into her pot, watching the noodles boil. She thought about how to explain what she was feeling. She wanted to express her hurt without causing any on Twilight’s end, so she picked her words carefully. “I’m hurtin’ ‘cause of what you said earlier ‘bout me not doin’ math in front of Apple Bloom. I wanted to help her with her learnin’ and you made me feel dumber than a stump for it.”
“I’m sorry.” Twilight stepped forward and placed an assuring hoof on Applejack’s shoulder, watching her special somepony take the ladle in her teeth and begin stirring again. “Your math really was terrible, but I shouldn’t have said it like that. That was thoughtless of me.”
Applejack released the ladle again and shifted her weight to face Twilight, placing a gentle hoof on top of hers. “It’s just a hang-up of mine. Ponies been callin’ me dumb or stupid for years and normally I don’t let it get to me but….” She drifted off, losing the carefully chosen words she’d wanted to use.
“But it’s different when it’s me,” Twilight finished for her. “I didn’t mean to hurt you and I’m sorry I touched a nerve.”
“It’s okay,” Applejack answered her with a warm smile. “I forgive you. And you ain’t wrong; there’s some stuff I ain’t no good at, and I’m glad Apple Bloom has you to help her too. You mean the world to me, sugarcube, ain’t no two ways about it.”
“Here, I want to show you something.” Pulling out of the embrace, Twilight glanced out the window, then walked to the table and began. With the sun halfway down the horizon, Twilight summoned her magic and began to levitate candles, which floated out from various secret placements on the library’s bookshelves. Applejack looked up from her pot to watch the display as, one by one, the candles joined into a slowly rotating circle just a foot over the table.
A light bolt of energy shot up Twilight’s horn, causing the next candle that passed her to light. Each candle followed suit, its wick catching fire as it passed by Twilight, until the entire room was illuminated by their circling course. Then, at once, the candles stopped moving. Half expanded out across the chamber, finding their places in candleholders placed on tables and windowsills away from the books, while the other half settled down into a pair of candelabra on either side of the table.
“Well, I’ll be,” Applejack whispered. “If that ain’t the prettiest sight I ever saw, then I don’t know what is.”
Twilight took a careful look around the room, eyeballing the candle placements to make sure they were adequately spaced for light coverage. “It’s a variant on one of the first spells I learned,” she explained. She moved her inspection to the candelabra, using a hoof to measure their distance from each other. She gave the one to her right a slight nudge forwards. “Proper manipulation of candlelight to ensure proper reading light without getting wax or worse, fire on the pages was very important.”
“Ain’t talkin’ ‘bout the candles,” Applejack told her. She grabbed a potholder in her snout and used it to remove the pot from the stove, walking it over to the table and setting it on a wooden pedestal she’d placed earlier. When her snout was freed, she continued, “I meant you.”
“Oh.” Twilight blushed. She realized her hoof was still on the table when Applejack covered it with her own. A jolt of emotion shot through her foreleg from the touch.
“Course, your magic’s still as impressive as ever,” Applejack assured her. “You’re a new miracle every day.”
Twilight could feel Applejack’s breath on her snout. She was amazed by the way her heart still fluttered when her special somepony was so close. Her extensive vocabulary began to fail her, leaving her at a loss for words to properly express the emotions pouring through her. She settled on a simple, “I love you,” but the words didn’t seem quite fit to do her feelings justice.
“Love you too,” Applejack answered. “Happy anniversary, sugarcube.” Those words behind her, Applejack leaned her snout forward a few inches and pressed her lips to Twilight’s. She swept forward as she kissed Twilight, laying her backwards against the floor beside the table.
Twilight felt the hard floor behind her back. It wasn’t very comfortable, but she was beyond the point of caring now. She felt Applejack’s lips against her neck and closed her eyes, sinking into the moment. There was only one thing left on her mind, keeping her anchored to the world. “What about dinner?” she asked quietly. “It’s going to get cold.”
“Let it,” Applejack answered. “Needs time to cool anyway.” Twilight gave no response and simply tilted her head back, the ability to form words leaving her. She surrendered herself to love, to desire, to this moment where no one else in the world existed.
A few hours later, Applejack lay on her front beside Twilight on the unicorn’s small bed. Her hat hung on Twilight’s telescope. Her eyelids heavy with sleep, she let out a long yawn and nestled her head against Twilight’s, prompting a giggle and protest of, “Stop that, you’ll make me sleepy. We’re about to get to the best part.”
“Can’t help it,” Applejack protested. “You’re comfy.” She draped her neck over Twilight’s and closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth of her partner.
Twilight let out a long yawn of her own. With mock indignance, she criticized, “See that? That was your fault.” Applejack replied merely by wrapping her front hoof around Twilight’s nearest. “Stop that! You’re making it worse.” Despite herself, Twilight made no attempt to extricate herself from this position.
A malevolent grin crossed Applejack’s lips. Her sinister plans to achieve bedtime were working.
“Fine,” Twilight teased. “I guess you don’t want to hear this one. I’ll just have to read something else.” Her horn glowed in the dim candlelight, lifting the cover to Hard Work and Pudding: The Life and Times of Smart Cookie.
Applejack’s eyes shot open. Twilight had found just the right thread to pull to push her from success to failure in an instant. “What? No, I like this one!” In the time they’d been together, it hadn’t taken Twilight long to discover Applejack’s weakness for biographies and historical fiction.
More seriously, Twilight offered, “I could let you borrow it. I mean, this is a library.”
Lifting her head off of Twilight’s neck, Applejack looked down at the text of the book nestled between her partner’s hooves. “I like the way you read it,” she answered, giving the unicorn a gentle nuzzle on the side of her face. “Ain’t never met nopony reads with as much passion as you. You even try to do little voices for everypony.”
“I do?” Twilight asked.
“It’s cute,” Applejack assured her. “I ain’t never read too much by myself. Too busy, and when I had time to myself, there was always somethin’ else I’d rather be doin’. I’d be glad to go through the whole works of Quiver Quill, though, if I could hear ‘em in your voice.”
“Thank you,” Twilight answered with a blush. “I’m glad you appreciate it. And thank you for dinner, too. Your spaghetti is more delicious every time I eat it.”
“Even cold?” Applejack asked wryly.
“That was as much my fault as yours,” Twilight answered with a giggle. “But really, thank you. I try to remember to say that, but I forget. I’ve always had someone to cook for me, but it was usually part of their duties. The chefs at the castle or Spike or…huh.” She looked up for a second, thinking. “Perhaps I should have been thanking them too.”
“You should have,” Applejack agreed. “Equestria’s built on the backs of its workers. Weren’t just a pony wrote that book. There’s a pony printed it and a pony bound it. A pony made the wax for your candles and a pony sculpted the metal for their holder. This whole library didn’t carve itself into this tree; was a pony somewhere did that too.”
Twilight looked down at the book between her hooves. She hadn’t thought much about the ponies who came before her, except for the big names like Clover the Clever, but Applejack was right. Equestria wasn’t just a nation. It was a living organism. Everything she’d ever taken for granted was produced somewhere by a pony just like Applejack, diligent and hard-working.
“There’s still so much to learn,” she whispered.
Applejack continued, “Wouldn’t be an Equestria without its chefs and builders, its singers….” She reached her free hoof over and tilted Twilight’s chin up. “Its farmers and librarians. We all try and find our place in Equestria, and then we do our part and serve our Princess. Well, Princesses now there’s three of ‘em. Point is, don’t knock somethin’ just ‘cause it’s a pony’s job. Be grateful there’s a pony does that job. Wouldn’t be an Equestria without ponies doin’ jobs.”
“You’re right,” Twilight agreed. The sincerity in Applejack’s voice touched her heart. She loved seeing her like this. She often struggled to put it into words, but underneath the humility, there was a wisdom to Applejack that she admired. “I’ve learned so much since coming here and you….” She rested her head against Applejack’s and closed her eyes. “You’ve been there from the start. You welcomed me into your family without even hesitating. You put so much faith and trust in me, and you didn’t even know me. I can’t thank you enough.”
“You thank me every time I see you with Apple Bloom,” Applejack replied. “She’s what matters most in my life.” Applejack turned her head to stare out the window at the stars twinkling in the night sky. “She ain’t never got the chance to know Mama, not really. Big Mac and I do what we can to fill in, but you saw me today. I ain’t no good with numbers. But now we got you, and Apple Bloom’s really come to see you like a part of the family.”
Twilight smiled. “I’m flattered. Her grades aren’t just me, though. She’s much more clever than she gives herself credit for. She needs a push here or there, but she’s very intelligent. I think that if she keeps up her studies and puts in the effort, she might just be the first Apple ever to attend one of Equestria’s universities for higher learning.”
Applejack blinked, trying to stop a tear that welled in her eye. “Nothin’ would make me prouder,” she answered earnestly.
“So what’s gotten into you?” Twilight asked. “You’ve been surprisingly retrospective lately.”
“Retro….”
“You’ve been thinking a lot about the past. Is something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, sugar, and you’re wrong. I’ve been talkin’ ‘bout the past ‘cause I’ve been thinkin’ a lot about the future lately.” She turned her gaze to Twilight, locking eyes on hers. She could feel the love burning from her special somepony, and every time she did, it made her feel warmer and more comfortable than she had in a long time.
A part of her wanted to ask the question that would change everything in their lives right then and there but she knew better. It was much too soon; she agreed with Rarity on that. She wasn’t ready and she was sure Twilight wasn’t either. It was a hard and rocky road that brought them to this point, and on some level, she knew they were both still getting used to the other’s increasing presence in their lives.
As much as Applejack wanted forever, she knew it was worth waiting for. So instead, she simply said, “You mean a lot to me, sugar. I want to do better by you.”
“You do fine,” Twilight answered. “There’s still so much to learn about us, too. All we can do is keep moving forward.” Twilight gave Applejack a quick peck on the lips to accentuate her words, then added, “Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”
“So, it went well?” Spike asked Twilight. It was the following day and he’d just returned from Rarity’s to find her enthusiastically reorganizing the bookshelves.
“Well?!” Twilight shrieked with a small hop. “It was perfect! There were candles and romance and she made dinner even though it got cold because we started kissing and then--”
“Okay, great!” Spike interrupted. “We are quickly racing towards too much detail.”
More calmly, Twilight explained, “Oh, Spike. Last night was everything I wanted it to be. Applejack is everything I wanted her to be.” She sat down next to the table as words spilled out of her, unable to be contained. “I mean, I never really thought much about what I wanted for a special somepony, but now it’s hard to imagine my life without her. She’s thoughtful and sweet and smarter than she gives herself credit for and okay, she’s not very good at academic subjects but she tries.”
“Uh, Twilight?” Spike asked. “Did something happen last night?”
“Yes!” Twilight shouted. “I mean, no, I just…it’s complicated.”
“What is it?”
“There was a moment,” Twilight explained. “It was brief and nothing really happened, but there was this moment where I was certain she was about to ask me to marry her!”
“Are you serious?!” Spike asked excited. “That’s incredible!”
“I know!” Twilight shouted with delight. “I can’t wait to tell my brother! And Princess Celestia! And I should probably tell Cadance when I tell--”
“Wait, slow down,” Spike urged the exuberant unicorn. “She hasn’t actually asked you yet, right?”
“No, but she’s going to!” Twilight jogged in place. “This is so exciting! I’ll need a dress. Rarity can probably make one for me, so that’s taken care of, but I’ll need a….” She paused for a moment, realizing she didn’t know how to end that sentence. She turned quickly to Spike. “Spike, how much do you know about earth pony wedding customs?”
“What, you mean besides zilch?” Spike answered, but Twilight wasn’t listening. She’d already begun pacing the library.
“I mean, you would think they’d wear rings, but they don’t have horns to put the rings on, so maybe they put them somewhere else? Like on their hoof?” Twilight raised her hoof and stared at it for a couple seconds. “No, that’d be weird. It would slide back off the moment you put your leg down.”
“Maybe they don’t wear rings,” Spike offered.
“So if they can’t put the ring on their horn, then maybe there’s some kind of fake horn that they…no, that’s stupid.”
“You could always ask Granny Smith.”
“If the ring is big enough, it could slide right over her hat and then the brim would…wait, what did you say?” Twilight stopped, looking at Spike.
“Surely, Granny Smith’s been through plenty of weddings. She’d probably know how it works.”
“You’re right!” Twilight shouted. “I’ll go ask her right now! Oh, but wait, if I ask her and Applejack hears me then she might find out that I know she’s going to propose to me, and that might ruin her plans. She might feel really down about it and then not want to ask me, and then we’ll never get married and Shining Armor will resent me for not inviting him even though I meant to invite him if we ever--”
“Twilight?” Spike asked. “Try to save some of that excitement for the proposal, if it’s actually coming.”
“Oh, sorry.” Twilight smiled as large as she could, feeling the adrenaline flowing through her. She couldn’t remain still for more than a couple seconds before her legs demanded to be moving again, and before long she was pacing the library once more. “I just have so many questions. Where do you think we’ll live?”
“What do you mean?” Spike asked.
“Well, we can’t stay here,” Twilight insisted. “Applejack’s chores start at dawn, and she can’t be walking out to Sweet Apple Acres every morning. If she’s going to do that, we might as well just live at the farm, but then who would take care of the library?”
“I think you’re getting ahead of yourself again,” Spike suggested.
“Perhaps we could find a place somewhere inbetween?” Twilight asked. “No, that might just make more trouble for everypony.” She grunted in frustration. “Spike, what are we going to do?”
“You could just keep going back and forth like you do now,” he suggested. “It seems to be working out.”
“We can’t do that if we’re married,” Twilight chastised. “We’re supposed to live together in one place. That’s how marriage works. You don’t see Shining Armor living in Canterlot, do you?”
“Does it have to work a certain way?” Spike asked.
“Of course it does,” Twilight insisted. “Everything has a proper structure to follow. Marriage isn’t any different. There’s rules for how you’re supposed to carry out the proposal, for how to behave during the engagement, wedding customs and traditions. You can’t tell me you don’t think Applejack is the kind of pony to want to uphold tradition, now can you?”
“I’m pretty sure that, traditionally, there’s only supposed to be one bride,” Spike retorted. As soon as those words left his mouth, however, he instantly regretted them.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Twilight asked. Spike mentally slapped himself.
“I don’t know!” Spike said quickly. “I just always thought it was kind of weird that Applejack likes mares, given that she’s all about family.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean? Applejack and I can’t have a family?”
Spike took a panicked step back, trying desperately to figure out how to defuse. “I’m just saying that…you know, physically, you and her--”
“Yes?” Twilight tapped her hoof impatiently.
“Never mind,” Spike grumbled. “Look, forget I said anything.”
Twilight sighed. “I do know what you’re saying Spike, and you’re not wrong. I’ve thought about it too. The farm is her whole life, and I just don’t know how good of an Apple I’d make. There’s a lot of things I can’t do.” She idly kicked a hind leg, stretching it. “I’m not just talking about foals, either.”
Twilight took a few steps towards the table, then sat down on her haunches beside it. “What if I never find a place that I can fit into the family dynamic?”
Spike rolled his eyes. “The Apples adore you, Twilight.”
“Yes, now, but that can change! I mean, what if they expect me to take Applejack’s name? I think that’s something Earth Ponies do. The Cakes share a name and so do the Riches, and the Apples are the Apples so I have to imagine that taking the Apple name is probably customary. Would I have to be Twilight Apple? Because that doesn’t sound very good.”
“Maybe Applejack could take your name?” Spike suggested.
“What? So she’d be Applejack Sparkle? Or Applesparkle?”
“I like the sound of Sparklejack,” Spike suggested.
“It does have a nice sound to it,” Twilight agreed, “but I think replacing the Apple in her name would be a very effective method for earning the family’s resentment.”
“Oh, right.” Spike thought for a second. “What if you combine names? Applesparkle could work as a second name. Twilight Applesparkle?”
“Wouldn’t that make her Applejack Applesparkle? Two Apples would be redundant.”
“Yeah, but we like Big Mac anyway!” Spike answered with a grin. The room fell completely silent, but for a couple meaningful hoots from Owlowiscious. After a few seconds, to punctuate his joke, he waggled his eyebrows, but Twilight’s silent stare wouldn’t abate. Finally, he threw his arms down in surrender. “It’s not as funny when he’s not here to react to it.”
At that, Twilight giggled. “Speaking of, you two certainly seem to have hit it off. How’s that going?”
“What, hanging out with Big Mac?” Spike paused, trying to figure out what she was asking. It felt like a weird way to phrase the question. “It’s going good, I guess. Back when you broke your leg, he started coming over after his chores were done sometimes and we’d talk and play games. I’ve always just hung out with your friends. It was pretty cool making a friend of my own.”
Twilight smiled. “So you could see yourself spending more time with him? That would be okay?”
Spike raised an eyebrow. “Sure, I guess? Where are you going with this?”
Twilight looked distantly towards the window behind him. “Where do you see us in ten years?”
“Older?” Twilight fixed a stern gaze on Spike. “I don’t know! I figured I’d just go wherever you go. All of our friends are here, plus you did what the Princess was grooming you for already, so there’s no reason to leave.”
Twilight looked down at the table. She lifted a hoof and gently touched it, slowly trailing her hoof around the wood grain. There was a strange permanence to it she’d never noticed before. For so long, she’d thought of this library and this town as the next chapter of her life. The idea of moving on was never something she wanted, but always felt like a distant certainty. It had never occurred to her that Ponyville might actually be her last stop.
“So, you think it might be a good idea to settle down?” she asked Spike. “To make this place our home?”
“I thought we already did. Isn’t that why you wanted to stay here? To, uh…’study the magic of friendship’?”
Twilight shook her head. “When we defeated Nightmare Moon, I saw this as an opportunity for a new learning experience. I wanted to enhance my studies. I wasn’t thinking about permanence. I always assumed that someday, when the time was right, I’d move on to whatever my next set of lessons might be.”
“And that’s changed?”
Twilight took a few steps towards the window, looking out at Ponyville. “Everything’s changed. Spike, if I get married, then that means…I guess that means it’s real. That we’re really staying here. That this town is our future. That…that I’ve learned everything I need to learn.” She lifted a hoof and pressed it against the wall beside the window. “Am I ready for that?”
Twilight’s concerns were answered by a nonchalant shrug from Spike. “Or it just means Applejack likes you a lot. I mean, that is what you want, isn’t it?”
“I want a lot of things.” Twilight kept watching Ponyville through the window, thinking aloud. “I want to see Apple Bloom get her acceptance letter to the university of her choice. I want to see how Rarity’s business grows. I want to be there when Rainbow Dash becomes a Wonderbolt. There’s been a construction project on the other side of town that’s been abandoned since before I got here that Mayor Mare still hasn’t decided what she wants to do with, and I want to see what becomes of that.”
Twilight turned away from the window, approaching Spike. “If we ever left Ponyville, I’d miss Pinkie Pie birthdays and cider tasting and yes, even Fluttershy’s panic attacks.” She giggled. “It’s not just that I love Applejack. I love Ponyville. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am here, and whenever I try to think of where I’ll go next in my life, every train of thought becomes about the reasons why I should stay.”
Twilight sat down next to Spike. “That’s why I’m asking you. The choices I make for my future affect you too, and Applejack said some things last night that made me think I take that for granted.” She put a hoof around Spike and pulled him in for a hug. “You’re family, Spike. You’ve been with me since I started my apprenticeship in Canterlot. So what do you think? Is it time for us to settle down?”
“That’s a weird question, because I really thought we already had. I know Princess Celestia was training you for some big purpose but I’m pretty sure that came about with the Elements of Harmony. I think you’re done. I mean, she wouldn’t have let us stay here if there was more for you to do, would she?”
“I don’t know,” Twilight answered, releasing Spike. “She still sends me lessons and gives me tests to complete. She still has me and my friends serving Equestria from time to time as well, like we did with Discord or King Sombra.”
“Yeah, but that might not be a lesson,” Spike suggested. “That might just be your job. You can get married and we can still run off to the ends of Equestria to deal with whatever new problem Princess Celestia sent you. I mean, it’s not like Applejack isn’t going with us when we do.”
“That’s true,” Twilight agreed. “Then I guess that settles it.” She felt her body surging with energy again when she thought about what was to come. “I’ll do my job, I’ll keep learning where I can, but we’re staying in Ponyville and I’m going to marry Applejack! Ponies of Ponyville, get ready to meet Twilight Applesparkle!”
“Just as soon as she asks you, you mean?” Spike asked.
“Right. That. Of course.”
Spike stretched his arms and started towards the stairs. “Anything else to talk about? Because I spent last night helping Rarity find gems and right now there is a bubble bath with my name on it.”
Twilight giggled. “No, that’s all. Thank you, Spike.”
“It’s what I do.”
“No,” Twilight stepped in front of him, keeping him from his ascent. “I mean it. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”
“Hey, don’t mention it.” Spike gave Twilight a light jab in her foreleg. “It’s like you said. We’re family. That’s what family does.”
A few hours later, Twilight was pacing the library, her mind still wracked with thoughts about what she would do about Applejack’s impending proposal. Her train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Maybe it’s her!” she thought quickly and raced to the door.
On the other side was a gray courier pony. His white mane was partially obscured by his blue hat, as he was dressed in the blue uniform of the royal postal service. “Package for you, ma’am,” he offered, holding out a small, brown parcel.
Maybe she sent her proposal by mail?
Twilight took the package and closed the door, forgetting in her curiosity to sign for the delivery. She levitated the package with her and approached the stairs, reading the front. It wasn’t Applejack, she quickly realized, but it could be something just as intriguing. The shipping instructions marked it as being from the royal palace. Princess Celestia had sent her something new to study.
Opening the package, Twilight found a small brown-red notebook and a letter.
Dear Twilight Sparkle,
The spell contained on the last page of this book is Starswirl the Bearded’s secret unfinished masterpiece. He was never able to get it right and thus abandoned it. I believe you are the only pony who can understand and rewrite it.
Princess Celestia
Twilight trilled with excitement. This was a bold new opportunity that the Princess had laid before her, and her mind exploded with possibilities for what this new spell could contain. Thoughts of weddings and family-building faded quickly from her mind, pushed aside by curiosity and eagerness to explore this new magic.
There would be time to figure all of that out later. After all, Applejack hadn’t even asked her yet. This unassuming notebook and its mysterious contents, for now that would be her next step into a future yet unwritten. She opened the book and set to work.