//------------------------------// // 12. And There's The Rub // Story: And The Stars Shine Forth // by archonix //------------------------------// "Oh this humidity is just impossible. Sable, I don't know how you keep your mane so perfect, mine is practically hanging to my hooves!" "Maybe she's born that way," said Twilight, from her seat half way between Rarity and Luna. Her voice sounded dead and flat when she spoke, lost in the endless bolts and rolls of fabric, half-finished works and racks of clothing that lined the walls of Rarity's home. "Please, Twilight, even the most vigorous of genes would falter in the face of this hideous heat." Rarity flicked a hoof at the immaculate tresses of her mane and sniffed dismissively in Twilight's general direction, before returning her attention back to Luna. "It's positively horrid! How do you cope?" The three, Luna, Rarity and Twilight, were each seated around the low table that formed the centrepiece of Rarity's sitting room – or, in Rarity's case, luxuriating on an elaborate chaise longue and idly toying with her mane. A plate of fancy biscuits, three ice-frosted glasses and a pitcher of chilled lemonade completed the scene. There were cocktail umbrellas. Twilight wasn't entirely sure why. She was careful to avoid tipping them out as she poured herself and Luna a drink. "I confess I have not given the styling of my mane a great deal of thought," Luna replied, accepting a glass of lemonade from Twilight. She peered into the drink for a moment and then set it aside. "For much of my life such things were simply not an issue, and when they became such I had little reason to concern myself with them." "But surely there must be some secret to it? A technique of those exclusive stylists of yours, perhaps?" Rarity rolled herself upright and leaned over the table toward Luna. "It will simply drive me absolutely potty if I don't find out. It's so full of body and life! Why I could believe it was caught up in the single perfect moment of a summer breeze—oh my." Rarity touched her lips briefly with her hoof and giggled. "That's rather poetic, isn't it? I must write that down..." She turned away, her magic seeking pen and paper from a nearby desk laden with receipts and work orders, and for a brief, blessed moment there was silence. Not that Twilight had ever had reason to complain about Rarity's voice or the things she said with it, oh no. Not in the least. She just liked things to be quiet sometimes. Rarity's pen flicked and flourished against a notebook as she finished writing. She looked up at Luna over the rims of glasses that had somehow come from nowhere to perch on her nose. "Have you both given any thought to what you're going to wear this evening?" "I had not." Luna frowned. She picked up her drink and stared into it again, as if she were seeking some divine solution to the mystery within its depths. "It is... a difficult matter, one fears. I do not wish to place undue weight to the occasion." "Nonsense, darling! Nonsense! Why it would be simply scandalous were I to let the pair of you spend a night on the town without something to help you stand out from the crowd. Scandalous!" Rarity tossed her notebook away and leaned forward, not even trying to hide the fervour in her eyes. "I already have quite the selection for you, Sable dear, if you'd be willing to try them on. As for Twilight, well I confess I was working on something already that I'm sure I could have finished if—" "I'm not going." Rarity's ears twitched. She turned her full attention to Twilight, fixing her with a stare that only Fluttershy might be able to outmatch. "Pardon me?" Twilight's hoof tugged at her mane. "I said I'm not going. It's..." "Complicated," Luna concluded. She finally took a sip of her lemonade, then set it aside again with a barely concealed grimace. "A personal matter, one that I feel I must settle with Applejack alone. I have err'd greatly these past days. I wish to set things aright once more." Rarity tapped her chin and leaned back. "I see... so you wish to dine alone with Applejack? Then what about Twilight? I understand you two have suffered something of a, shall we say, heated disagreement over the last few days. I'm at a loss to see how this might help resolve that." "It is quite simple," Luna replied, with just the hint of a frown. "I shall dine with Applejack on this eve, that I might compensate her for my acts, then henceforth shall I devote my time to Twilight and our studies of the night sky. Applejack no longer requires assistance in her work and it would be remiss of me to take up her time without cause, or to neglect others in my pursuit of—" Luna paused, her frown deepening. She rolled her lips around as if chewing on something, then closed her eyes and shook her head. "I do not believe I shall require any of your work this night, Rarity, as gracious as your offer may be," she continued, quietly. "I wish to... to emulate the sturdy simplicity of Applejack's life for one last night. It has been a most refreshing change." "And Twilight, you're content with this arrangement?" Despite her silence, Twilight couldn't stop her ears folding back against her head. Rarity's reaction was swift, and yet surprisingly restrained. None of the usual theatrics. She hopped from her couch and settled down next to Twilight to wrap her in a warm hug. "It's all right, darling," Rarity cooed. "You aren't the first friends to have a falling-out and I'm sure it won't be the last time it happens to you, either. I'm certain you and Sable will find a way to resolve this, given time." "Maybe," Twilight murmured. She looked toward Luna and tried to smile. "I mean, we'll always have Pistis, right?" "Of course," Luna replied, bowing her head. "I do not consider our friendship a mere trifle, Twilight. Without you I would have been lost in my obsessions and would have suffered greatly for it. T'would have been a dark existence indeed. There is little I would not sacrifice to keep your faith." She fell silent, looking expectantly at Twilight, though as the silence drew on her ears and face fell just a little. A moment longer and Luna bowed her head once more. "Pray both excuse me now, I must prepare for the evening. Shall I see you at the library on my return, Twilight?" Twilight's ears bobbed. She looked toward Luna, but couldn't quite meet her eyes. "Um, sure, I guess." "Then I shall bid you both farewell. Thank you for the refreshments, Rarity. They were most..." Luna pursed her lips. "Fruitful." She turned without another word and trotted from the room, closing the door behind her. In the silence that followed, Twilight reached for her glass of lemonade and took a small sip. "I knew I shouldn't have let Sweetie Belle make lemonade," Rarity muttered, once Twilight had finished retching. "She was so keen... but such is the way of fillies and fools." "Keen." Twilight leaned back, frowning, while Rarity busied herself tidying away the drinks. She disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later with another chilled pitcher. "Iced tea?" She waited for Twilight's answering nod, then poured two large glasses. "I do hope I wasn't too forward, earlier. It always pains me to see friends come to such lows, especially such close friends as you seem to be." "Close. I don't know about that." "Surely you must be! The day Sable arrived, you two were falling over one another like giddy foals! If I didn't know better I would have thought you and she were—" Rarity paused beneath Twilight's frigid gaze. She cleared her throat and leaned away. "Suffice to say the way you're both acting now tells me you're closer than you think." "I'm not acting! I'm—" "Jealous, darling. You're jealous." Rarity returned to her couch, where she sat taking petite sips of her tea, while watching Twilight fumble with a throw cushion. "Well so what if I am? She's my friend, she came here to spend time with me, to help me!" After another sip, Rarity carefully placed her tea on the table between them. She lay back in the couch with a languid sigh. "Twilight, it strikes me that you still have a great deal to learn about friendship, if that's how you see your relationship. Why, Sable herself said that she wanted to spend time with all of us over the coming weeks, and I must confess I have been rather looking forward to showing her the more civilised side of Ponyville life." "Yes, but—but I'd be there too," Twilight whined. She knew it was a whine; she sounded like Rarity when she was two thirds of the way down a tub of ice-cream. "We would have spent time together, doing things together. It was meant to be fun! She wasn't supposed to just go off and get a job!" "Far be it from me to contradict you, Twilight, but it sounds as if that 'job' was just the sort of experience Sable needed." Rarity sat up and rolled onto her belly to face Twilight. "She strikes me as a very physical mare, not one who would be content to spend her days cooped up in stuffy little rooms, compiling charts." "How can you tell that?" Rarity glanced toward Twilight, raising a single eyebrow. "I've had my tapes around enough ponies to know what goes on under the coat, Twilight. While at first glance she resembles your more academically inclined nature, in fact your friend has a very deceptive physique, one that's been giving me quite a design challenge, which is why I'd dearly love to get her into my workshop." Rarity paused at the sight of Twilight pouting. She let out a sigh. "But perhaps that's something to discuss another day..." Rarity lifted her drink for another sip, but the glass was empty. She stared at it for a moment and then set it aside. "In truth, Twilight, you must be careful that you don't let your jealousy of Sable's attention to others override your consideration for her own needs. Jealousy can lead to dark places. You wouldn't want to end up like Nightmare Moon, would you?" Twilight scrunched up her face, struggling against the urge to press her hooves to her temples. "This is hardly the same thing, Rarity." "I don't see why not. Princess Luna envied the attention others paid to her sister. She was probably also jealous of the fact that Celestia returned that attention rather than giving it to her. I see the same thing in Sweetie Belle sometimes." "It's still not the same," Twilight insisted, looking up again. "I admit it, I'm jealous. L—Look, we share a passion, I honestly expected Sable would be more interested in that. And yes the fact that she's—the fact that Applejack of all ponies... I just didn't expect things to turn out like this. But I'm not going to turn into Nightmare Sparkle or whatever crazy name you're already thinking up for me." "Are you sure? No temptation to plunge the world into eternal night?" Rarity's ears twitched in two tight circles. She smirked. "It would give you a lot more stargazing time." Twilight snorted as she tried to hold back a giggle. "Are you trying to make me turn evil?" "Certainly not! Although..." Rarity pressed a hoof to her lips and smiled. "Were you to do so, I could probably be convinced to run off a few costumes for you. A nice uniform and matching cape would make the climactic battle so much more atmospheric!" "Rarity, I am not going to become a villain just so you can make a new line of dresses." Rarity pouted. "Not even a little bit?" "No." "Well if you must so callously crush my dreams..." Rarity leaned back again  with a dainty little sigh. "Will you at least promise to bring Sable to a fitting? I can assure you I shall not attempt to steal her away." "I—" Twilight sighed and nodded. At least they'd both be there. "Sure." The sky was bronze and the air thick and muggy when Applejack settled herself at the gate to Sweet Apple Acres. Yet it was peaceful out here, on the edge of the farm, with the sun hanging ripe and golden over the western hills. More peaceful than home at any rate. While she had been dressing up, Applejack had considered waiting at the house for Sable, but a few well-placed barbs from Spritzer and Granny's constant snickering and pointed looks had put paid to that idea mighty quick. So she'd hiked up her britches and, while everyone had been bickering over what to eat for supper, she'd scarpered for the gate. Though it had to be said, she was regretting the tux, now she was out and about. Fancy duds and a humid evening did not a great combination make at the best of times. The inexplicable churning of her stomach didn't help matters either. "It's just supper," she told herself, tugging yet again at the collar of her tux. Why she'd worn a tuxedo. Why this tuxedo... but then Sable was a classy Canterlot mare. She'd probably turn up in something that'd make Rarity look dowdy by comparison. Maybe, Applejack thought, if she'd worn her gala dress instead. Or one of the other dresses Rarity had made for her. Or— She snorted her frustration and snapped at a stray blossom as it flickered past her face. It was bitter, but not overly so and it might hold back her appetite for a little while. Applejack looked up at the tree it had fallen from, a tree that had grown so old it had no idea what season it was in any more. She was still staring at it when she heard the crunch of hooves on the gravel path leading to the gate. "Well hey there," she said, turning to the path. "It—oh." Sable stood before Applejack, near-naked as a winter tree. In fact she was wearing nothing more than a slightly confused smile. "Well met, fair Applejack," she said, looking up and down while Applejack tugged at her collar again. She opened her mouth as if to speak again, but then shook her head as if thinking better of it and trotted to Applejack's side. "I shoulda listened to Big Mac," Applejack muttered as she accepted Sable's hug. "Told me I was overdressed, but I figured—" "Perhaps it is I who should feel underdressed, Applejack," said Sable. She stepped back to admire Applejack again. "It is a fine suit, though I am a little surprised that you chose such a garment over the many items of clothing I understand that Rarity has produced for you." "You an' me both," Applejack replied as she looked about herself. "I'll go change." "No, Applejack, please remain as you are. It is most becoming." "Well uh, if you say so." They set off down the path, Sable taking just the slightest lead. Despite the nerves that seemed to plague her and her lonely occupation, it seemed Sable was used to the idea that others would follow her. Perhaps that was why she'd been so forward the other day. "So." Applejack glanced a nearby hedgerow as they passed the first of Ponyville's gardens. "Is Twilight waiting for us in town?" Sable's legs twitched; almost a stumble, but not quite. "Twilight shall not be joining us tonight." "But I thought you said the three of us—" "This night was to be my apology, Applejack, not Twilight's. There is nothing for which she need apologise, whereas I fear I must compensate for a great many things..." Sable looked back briefly to smile at Applejack as they turned onto the main road into Ponyville. "I have wronged you both, and I must reconcile with you both by whichever means are most suitable. For Twilight, it is a case of granting that portion of my time which I had already pledged to her 'pon my arrival." "So you'll be spendin' your nights peeking at that there pastry and—and..." Applejack chewed at her tongue a moment as she tried to recall the names Sable had told her. "That, uh, that other one." Sable giggled. "Erato, the desired and lovely poet. And I believe you may mean Pistis, who personifies good faith and trust, a virtue in which I fear I may have erred." "Then that's time and book learnin' for Twilight," said Applejack with a firm nod. They were silent a few paces as she mulled the thought over. "And for me?" Sable's ears twitched. "I cannot give you my time, nor do you need it, and I cannot give you gifts, for I see you have all that you need. Nevertheless I have found that good food, strong wine and tall tales well told might mollify the most aggrieved of hearts." "Guess I'm bringin' the tall tales then." "I may have some of my own," Sable replied. Her pace slowed again as they made their way down the street; now and then she would glance at Applejack before just as quickly looking away, and before long they were walking at barely a snail's pace. "Something wrong, Sable?" Sable looked at Applejack again, though it felt as if her eyes weren't looking at Applejack at all. For a moment her face looked different. Older. Or just harder, like weatherworn canvas, stretched tight and baked stiff by the sun. Then she looked away. "It is no matter, Applejack. I was merely reminded of an old friend." "Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to—" "You are like him, just a little." Sable set off again at a quick trot. "I believe it is the suit. He was rather disposed to formal dress. I would not have taken you for the sort of pony that wore such things, though it does flatter you so." "I-I guess. Actually it was meant to be Big Mac's but he got to big for it afore he even wore it once, so I kind of ended up with it instead." Applejack smiled and shook her head. "Tween buyin' a shirt and takin' it home he'd grow out of it, every dang time. Boy sure knew how to bust a button." "Indeed. Your brother is admirably robust." "Yeah well don't get yourself any ideas," Applejack shot back. "He's already spoke for." "I assure you, Applejack, as admirable a pony as he may be, I have no designs on your brother. Ah! We have arrived." Sable halted before a large, brightly lit restaurant that Applejack had never really paid attention to before, on account of the fact that it was significantly out of her price range. A short flight of steps brought them to a terrace, where ponies were seated around slender tables piled high with flowers and decorations of all sorts. A Maître d' approached, beaming at them both. His smile broadened considerably when he recognised Applejack. "A pleasure to see you again, ms Moonshine," he said, bowing lightly to Sable, and then to Applejack. "And let me say it is an honour that you would grace our restaurant with so famous and noble a guest. If you had only informed us, we would have prepared a more fitting welcome." "It is well, good sir. We dine as friends, there is no need of such formality." "Of course, of course." The Maître d' bowed again, beckoning the pair toward a table on the terrace, before turning to clap his hooves at the nearby waitstaff. He bowed once again to Sable and then left, grinning and preening like a cat who had just found an entire trough of milk. Applejack reached to pull out a chair, but before she could even touch it the chair glowed bright with Sable's magic and slid away from the table. She rolled her eyes and sat. "Famous and noble, huh," she said as Sable seated herself opposite. "It is not an incorrect assessment." Sable smiled shyly, twisting her ears sideways for just a moment. "You and your friends have done much to deserve the accolade." "I ain't complainin', I just wonder why I ain't heard none about all this until now. Not like I get ponies linin' up at the stall for my autograph." Applejack rubbed the back of her head, then shrugged. "I'm nopony special. Just a farmer." Sable toyed with her knife, spinning it blade-down on the table beneath her hoof. "You are special to many, Applejack. Your family. Your sister loves you like no other. Your friends. In what time I have spent with them, they have been most positively disposed toward you. Many of this town appear to treat you with great respect and honour." "Twilight don't seem so disposed to me right about now." "It may seem so," Sable replied with a nod. "But consider also, were you not special to her, she would not feel so passionately about our relationship." "I don't think it's our relationship stuck in her craw, princess. You an' her are like two halves of an apple split apart, I reckon." "Perhaps." Sable set her knife down to give Applejack her full attention. She smiled again. "She expected things of our friendship that were unrealistic, I fear. I have suffered similar illusions in the past." "That sister of yours?" "My sister and others besides. My work is important to me. I expected it to be important to everypony and I was not wrong to believe so, yet the means by which they expressed that importance was not as I desired and it angered me greatly, and for a great length of time. When I think of the time I wasted and the friends I lost..." Sable closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. "But that is of no concern. Let this not be an evening of sorrow and mourning. We are two friends, sharing a meal. No more." "No less," Applejack chimed in. "I would raise a glass to that, fair Applejack, had I not neglected to order our wine in advance." "Oh I'm sure they'll be here in a minute. In the meantime..." Applejack reached for the water that had been left on their table. She poured into Sable's glass, then filled her own and held it up. "How's that?" "It shall suffice," said Sable, as she raised her own glass, mirroring the impromptu toast. "Thank you." Applejack smiled as she sipped from her water, which in truth was probably better tasting than any wine could be right at that moment. She set it aside and looked around the terrace for any sign of the waitstaff. As luck would have it a pony emerged from the restaurant's interior just as her eyes settled on the door. He had a basket on his back, overflowing with more steaming fresh bread than Applejack had seen in any single place that wasn't a bakery. The waiter dropped the basket on the table and retreated with a bow and a flourish. A few steps away he looked over his shoulder at the table, only to immediately turn away, a blush colouring his cheeks, when he saw Applejack was watching him. She pulled a bun from the basket and tore it open. A cloud of steam rose into the evening air, heavy with the buttery yeast and musty warmth. Applejack snuffled at the moist aroma before pulling a mouthful of bread away with her teeth. "I've been wantin' to ask," she said around half-chewed crust. "Bout them tree marks y'all made the other day." Sable's eyes fell, followed a moment later by her ears. She looked away. "If I was mistaken—" "Sugar, did I say you made a mistake? Y'all are so quick to think you done goofed." Applejack waved a roll under Sable's nose until she looked up again. "Hey. Don't go hidin' from me again. I ain't askin' because I want to catch you out. If I were upset I'd just say so, y'hear?" Sable stared at the bun, pouting and frowning, before taking it between her own hooves. She looked nervously toward Applejack and then nodded once. "Better," Applejack said, taking another bite of her bun. "Now, I gotta ask this, because it's been drivin' me crazy. Where did y'all learn to make them marks? Granny swears she had nothin' to do with it, same with everypony else back at the farm, and I sure as shucked corn never explained 'em to you. Which I shoulda done." Sable nosed at her bun and took an exploratory nibble. She set it aside a moment later. "I suspect you would not believe me if I claimed they were self-evident." "Because they ain't," said Applejack. "They're older'n my family round these parts, and my family is pretty dang old dependin' on who you ask." "I have heard such. Very well." Sable took a breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth. She raised her snout a fraction. "To explain in short, I asked the trees." "Really? Huh. Well... that ain't so strange I guess, though they ain't rightly able to read what gets writ on their trunks so well." Applejack tugged another bun free and dropped it on the table. She rolled it around under her hoof and watched Sable out of the corner of her eye. "Do you understand them?" Applejack's ears twitched. "I know what they mean on the side of a tree, sure. Can I read em?" She shrugged and tossed her bun in the air. "Pappy said they're a language, but he never told me what it was. I don't rightly think he knew either, 'cept that it used to exist." For a moment Sable was quiet, contemplating her drink. She gently swirled the water around her glass before setting it aside. "Your father was correct. They are a runic script, an ancient earth pony dialect called Malum—" "That there's old unicorn talk for apple, right?" "Indeed," Sable replied with a bow of her head. "Ancient Equestrian is often used in scientific nomenclature. In this case Malum is the name given to the language your distant ancestors spoke within their clan, although in their own tongue it was called æppelspræc. I am well familiar with it." Applejack nodded slowly, digesting what she had heard. Maybe she should look up that language in Twilight's library later, she thought as she sipped at her water, assuming the mare would ever let her through the door again. But that was tomorrow's problem. She set her glass down and leaned over the table. "That don't explain how y'all could know what they mean. None of them trees ever told me what I wrote on em." "Mayhap you care to ask and they might answer," Sable replied, with just the hint of a smile. Applejack shook her head. "You're a strange'un, Sable. You waltz onto my farm one day and the next you're talkin' to trees like you were born to it." "Perhaps I am truly more than I appear, as some have said." Sable smiled hesitantly, before looking away to reach for her drink. "Or perhaps I was merely granted the privilege of a superior tutor. You were taught such things by your father, and he by his parents. I assume that such knowledge is passed through your family to those that are likely to continue working in such a manner?" Applejack nodded. "Pretty much, though I had to teach Apple Bloom myself on account of her—she weren't old enough to learn the way I did. She's a smart kid too, took to it like a fresh cuttin' to a fat root. Still young to be buckin' regular like, mind, but I tell you, the first time she laid her hoof against a tree she had a smile on her face like you wouldn't believe. Brought the whole thing down too." "Perhaps one day I shall live up to her standard," Sable replied, quietly, still staring into her drink. Applejack sighed and rested her cheek on an upturned hoof. "There I go agin, yammerin' about work when I should be talkin about—well, anything else I guess." "I am not averse to listening to you discuss your work, Applejack." Sable rolled her glass between her hooves, swirling the water within as if it were the finest of wines." I find it most enlightening." "Ain't somethin' I hear every day." Applejack reached for her water and took a deep gulp. Celestia above but she could have used something stronger right then. She let her ears drop and shook her head. "Listen, Sable—" "If, as I suspect, you wish to apologise for your actions once again, Applejack, then please do not." Sable set her drink aside and leaned across the table. Every part of her face seemed taut and focused on Applejack. There was something about her eyes that Applejack couldn't quite bring into focus. "You have shown to me a world I had forgotten and a life I would dearly have lived, had I the choice." "Who says you don't?" Applejack waited as Sable fell back into her seat with a frown. She tipped back her hat. "Y'all got a talent for it, no pony would deny that, and there ain't nothin' says you have to stick around Canterlot just to please a bunch of stuffy old university professors or whatever it is you do. Didn't harm Twilight none to come live out here did it?" "Perhaps it did not." Sable lowered her gaze to the table and smiled again. "There are many things in this place to which I would be drawn. If circumstances were different, I feel I might be happy to remain here with you." "And every one of us would sure appreciate havin' you around, too. Twilight and Rarity especially." Applejack glanced toward the kitchens again. A server was approaching, pushing a trolley with a covered bottle or pitcher of some sort on it. "Rarity's probably got plans for you." Sable giggled, covering her mouth with a hoof. "She has told as much! I am also informed that I must submit to her ministrations, that she might sate her curiosity and overcome some sort of physical challenge..." For a moment Sable pondered the bare table cloth, tapping one hoof and then the other. "I fear she means to seduce me." Applejack rocked back in her chair and burst out laughing as the waiter arrived. After an ostentatious bow, he unveiled the largest bottle of wine Applejack had ever seen. The cork was already pulled and honey-clear wine already poured into two oversized glasses, which the waiter placed before them with a subtle flourish and a flap of his towel. The Maitre d' hovered close behind, twitching his forelegs in little stomps, one after the other, just loud enough that Applejack couldn't quite pull her attention from them. He moved in the moment the waiter had retreated, bowing deep and long to Applejack and Sable in turn. "For such distinguished guests, we took the liberty of choosing a wine we felt most appropriate to your situation, madames," he said, with a brief glance and a smile at Applejack's mirth. "The Chataigneroux seventy-six. A rather characterful vintage. I recommend the hazelnut and sauté chestnut en croute for accompaniment. The moment you are ready to order, simply let one of the staff know and we will do our utmost to serve you." A wave of his hoof brought forward another waiter, who placed menus before the pair before scuttling away. Then the Maitre d' bowed with a flourish and retreated back toward the kitchen in turn, leaving Sable and Applejack alone once more. Applejack peered at the Maitre d's back and then at Sable. She tapped the menu. "I thought I said no fancy stuff." "Indeed. Yet you have shown to me the pleasantries of your life. I felt I should in turn a taste of my own world present to you." Sable touched the foot of her glass, turning it this way and that as she stared into the surface of her wine. "In truth I fear I shall have no opportunity henceforth. You shall be busy with your work and I shall be engaged with Twilight's telescopes, and much else besides." "If I didn't know better, Sable, I'd think you were saying goodbye." "In a sense, it may be." Sable raised her eyes, to look at Applejack across the rim of her glass. "Sooner or later I shall leave this place and return to my own. Had I the choice, I might spend each moment until then by your side, but that choice is denied to me. Instead we must eke out mere moments together, in finery and indeed good companionship, but away from that which would please me most." "The farm?" "The farm," Sable replied, with a confirming nod. "It was most fulfilling. To remain would please me greatly. Yet I am bound to my duties." Her gaze drifted gently back to the wine's pale surface. At first Applejack had no reply, until the full meaning of Sable's words surfaced like so many bobbing apples in the water-barrel of her imagination. "Bullpucky," she grunted. "Only pony what says you have to do that is yourself, Sable. I'm surprised the last few days didn't learn y'all that." "But my promises to Twilight. My responsibilities..." Sable glanced down at her side and shook her head. "My mark. I am not—" "A mark ain't all a pony is, sugar," said Applejack, lowering her voice. "Apples is my blood, but apples don't raise barns and they don't plough fields or plant crops, and sure as all that they don't win rodeos neither." She paused, watching the tips of Sable's ears as they turned a slow, awkward circle in the air. Easier than reading a book, that was for sure. "Life ain't just doin' what other ponies expect of you." "I had not considered..." Sable raised an eyebrow. "Are you attempting to convince me to join you on your farm permanently, Applejack?" "Well now, that uh—that ain't exactly the sort of thing I had in mind—" Applejack pressed a hoof to her head. "I ain't about to come between you and Twilight none, but the way you're talkin' about never seein' each other like y'all are gonna be gone forever? It ain't right. I ain't goin' anywhere this next few weeks, so unless y'all plan on turnin' into a cloud right now and driftin away over the forest—" "I do not." "Then it ain't goodbye till you leave," Applejack insisted. She tapped a hoof against her glass. "Now are we gonna drink this here grape juice or what?" "Of course." Sable bowed her head and lifted her glass, opting for her hooves rather than magic, Applejack noticed. "Let us drink then, to friends and loved ones, and to the magic by which they enrich our lives." "Amen to that," Applejack murmured before taking a slug of her drink. Bitter warmth crashed to the back of her throat and for a moment she had to close her eyes, and wait until the wine's true flavour emerged. When she opened them again she found Sable watching her with a petite frown, little more than a wrinkle between her eyebrows. Applejack swallowed carefully, waiting for a bitter aftertaste that she was sure would follow, but all she could sense was a delicate sweetness and a heady glow that reminded her of the smoke from an applewood fire in the fall. "I could get used to this here fancy stuff," she muttered, setting her glass aside. "Now how's about we rustle us up somethin' to eat while there's still time." "Nothing would please me more, fair Applejack," said sable, with a smile that Applejack couldn't help but return. "What about this one?" Luna peered at the tree before her, towering into the sightless black canopy above their heads. The trunk bore a mark, an X with a vertical line to each side. Three shorter lines emerged from it; one to the right, two to the left. She sat down to ponder it. Their dinner had been unremarkable, save for the odd confession she had laid at Applejack's hooves, and the equally odd response it had earned. There had been discussion of their work – in Luna's case, couched in terms vague enough to disguise its reality, or so she hoped – and stories of great adventures of one sort or another, accompanied by food to ease both bodies, and perhaps more alcohol than was strictly necessary to ease both minds. The farm had never been far from either of their thoughts, however, and it was because of this that Luna now found herself deep amongst the far reaches of Sweet Apple Acres, staring at trees and the marks upon them, while Applejack clung to her side like an eager student. "Dæg," she murmured, pointing at the X. "It means day, or days, but is also the name for the sixth letter of the thaeorid, the Malum alphabet." She shifted her hoof to another mark at its side, a slash from the upper right to the lower left, with a horizontal above it. It was crude – the curling sweep at its end was missing – but it was recognisable even so. "This represents Frygen," she said, tracing in the missing curl. "The goddess of attraction and foresight. Presumably she was invoked for trees that were ready to be harvested at any time." In the still night, her voice carried far into the distance, echoing strangely from the trees. Luna pricked her ears, listening to the faint, alien whisper of her words as they returned to her. How familiar it sounded after so few days in her ears. "Pretty much what it means alone, yeah," Applejack replied. She tapped the mark. Behind her, an apple fell to the ground, unheeded. "Together they say it shouldn't be dropped less than six days after the start of the harvest. See?" Applejack drew her hoof across the first mark again, catching on each of the horizontals. "One four, two ones." "Such was my understanding." Luna peered close to the marks, until her nose bumped up against the bark. She drew back and rubbed a hoof against her muzzle. "I have not encountered a numbering system such as this for—for many years. It would seem I have much yet to learn of your ways." "You still could, if you wanted." Luna raised her eyes to the heavens, or at least to the canopy that hid them. "Applejack—" "Don't fuss yourself none, sugarcube" Applejack tipped back her hat and loosened the collar of her shirt. "I'm just happy you're takin' an interest. Twilight dang near had me convinced you were just out here for fun and games. Hobby farmin', she called it." "Really." Luna hummed and shook her head. "T'would appear she is as jealous of my affections as I was of my sister's." "That don't rightly sound like Twilight," Applejack replied. She moved to lean against Luna's side; her body positively glowed with heat, a side-effect of the overabundance of wine the pair had consumed. "She ain't the jealous type I reckon, except about Princess Celestia I suppose. Hey maybe that's it!" Applejack looked into Luna's face. Despite the warmth, Luna shivered. "What is?" "Way you sound probably reminds her of home. I reckon she sees a tiny little bit of a Princess in you, princess." "It is flattering that you might think so, Applejack, but this is neither the body nor the voice of a Princess," Luna replied. "In truth, jealousy may strike without warning, driven by naught that reason could comprehend." "As if she's got a thing to be jealous of between us." With great reluctance – and that was something to ponder in itself – Luna tore herself from Applejack's side and wandered the short distance to another tree. Her eyes caught on the marks it bore, tracing the same rune of foresight and the crossed-out circle at its side. "There's the rub," she murmured, idly drawing her hoof across the marks. "What roun doth bitterness unsheath..." She touched it with a hoof, then looked across at the next row of trees. All bore the same combination. "Æring," she muttered. "Applejack, the letter upon this tree is traditionally associated with dawn. Pray, tell this mark's meaning?" Applejack glanced over at Luna, but remained where she sat. "It means drop at next daybreak," she replied, before turning away again. There was a heaviness to the way she held herself that Luna had not seen before that moment. "No waiting." "Many trees hereabouts bear the same." Luna peered into the distance. Every tree was marked identically. "This entire grove—" "Was marked today," Applejack concluded. "They all came into fruit at once. Oh we could wait a few days, sure, but these goldens are finicky. They'd ferment on the branches if we don't get em cellared proper, so they all gotta come down at first light, and that's gonna cut into the time we need for thinning out the rest of the crop." "But you are capable of such a feat?" Applejack shook her head. "It'll be a stretch. I wouldn't say no to an extra pair of hooves around the place, but we found a few boys. Ain't as enthusiastic as you were, though." "Of course. Were I not bound by obligation—" "Shoot, I hear that." Applejack looked around the orchard and shook her head. "Guess I should get you back home before Twilight does something dumb again." "At least we shall not be singing this time," said Luna. She fell in step beside Applejack, both ponies ambling back toward the heart of the farm. Applejack snorted. "T'wouldn't be so bad if it were a song I could sing along with." "Then perhaps next time you shall choose the song," said Luna. Applejack didn't reply, but after a few steps, Luna felt Applejack's coak brushing against her own. She glanced over at her friend; Applejack looked down at her and smiled, but made no effort to move away again. Perhaps it was just the chill night air pushing them together. Luna wondered if she should try to believe that.