Applejack's Tempest

by MiniHorse


Applejack's Tempest

A storm unlike any other that Sweet Apple Acres was used to raged right over their heads that night. The basement, however, was engulfed in a disparate stillness. The Apple family was hunkered around a little lantern on the floor, its flame swaying contentedly. It was a fragile thing, and it was the only thing bright enough to remind them that were all still together.
 
Applejack was lying on her side, but her head was held up attentively. Big Macintosh sat on the other side of the lantern, stretching a protective gaze over her. Of course, Applejack wasn’t going to leave a look like that unreciprocated. Big as her brother might have been, those winds could probably knock down bull twice his size. They stared at each other in silence.
 
When thunder crashed, however, Applejack felt Apple Bloom’s hooves tighten around her chest. She abandoned her brother for a moment and let her eyes fall upon the little filly that had been clinging to her for the past hour. Applejack reached out with her hoof and began stroking her back.
 
“Aw, it’s just a lil’ noise, sugar cube,” she whispered. “We’re safe.”
 
“B-but what if the house blows over?” She squeaked. “What if there’s a twister?”
 
The winds sounded somewhat muffled down in the safety of the basement, but the howling was no less unnerving. Even all the way down here, Applejack could hear other sounds mixed within the winds. Certainly, she could recognize the flurries of rustling tree leaves, but as for the rest, she couldn’t tell whether those occasional thwacks she kept hearing were just snapping branches or something more dire. For the millionth time, while she was trying to soothe her little sister, she mentally cringed imagining the cost of cleanup.
 
“C’mon, Apple Bloom,” she whispered again. “Y’all ain’t gotta worry. Try to get some sleep; it’s late anyway.”
 
Applejack let her eyes swing back up for a moment. They fell upon Granny Smith, curled up in a deep-sleeping heap near Big Macintosh. Applejack laughed lightly. “Granny’s got the right idea.” Then her sights dropped back to Apple Bloom. “Sweet dreams, all right?”
 
Another burst of thunder made the filly flinch, and she clung even harder. Applejack’s neck too had darted upright, but she still had a caring hoof stroking her sister’s coat. She found herself looking all around the dim basement. The bricks on the walls were only gray lines against shadowed corners, however.
 
She finally looked back at Big Macintosh, whose normally stony demeanor was lit with concern. “We got a long night ahead of us, Big Mac.”
 
“Yup.”
 
The two of them knew their responsibilities. Those responsibilities were tested in situations like these. So Applejack stayed awake with her brother, following the roar of the storm even while the gusts and the thunder secretly made her heart skip. After a while, she began to feel her sister’s grip slacken. She looked down at the filly and breathed in relief when she saw her face composed with sleep. She was off safe in dream land, thought Applejack. Only the grownups needed to face the storm.
 

 

&&

 
 
Applejack wasn’t sure what her imagination was trying to tell her. Lying on her belly under a tree in the high of noon, her eyes were floating over a very surreal-looking Sweet Apple Acres. It wasn’t just the destruction—broken branches and uprooted trees strewn all over each other—but also just the whole picture. There was a hazy stillness in what she was looking at. They didn’t look like trees: they looked like objects that were painted arbitrarily across her line of sight.
 
Boy, she was thinking up some weird stuff, she thought. She dismissed it, however, shaking her head wearily. She was perfectly content blaming it on all the hard work she did that morning. It was pure mental exhaustion thinking about all of the damage caused by last night’s storm. Half the barn had caved in around the tree that had smashed into it. The house’s roof was all torn up. More than a dozen apple trees were lost, and the big fence on the west end of the property had been annihilated by what had to have been a tornado. When she stepped out of the basement that morning, she was afraid of what she would see. When she actually saw it, she immediately wished she had stayed asleep.
 
But what was a good word for what she was seeing right now? A dream? No, she dismissed. She couldn’t possibly be dreaming: she never let herself close her eyes before it was nighttime.
 
Applejack snorted, eyes plummeting to the dirt. Nopony was going to make her leave this spot, she told herself. Then, after giving it another thought, she smirked. She could always hope to be left alone, but it was only hope.
 
“Applejack!”
 
Her ear perked as if shocked, but she eased up when the voice registered in her mind. Applejack dragged her neck up and twisted it towards the filly running towards her.
 
“Applejack, you ain’t busy, right?” said Apple Bloom.
 
Applejack tilted her head to the side. “Not right now.”
 
The filly leaned her face as far forward as her hooves would let her. “Well, ya know how my school always puts on a play durin’ the spring?”
 
“Mm-hm.”
 
“Well, me and the other crusaders are plannin’ on tryin’ out to see if we can get our cutie marks in acting.”
 
“That so?”
 
“So do ya think you can give me some advice, some pointers or somethin’? I never acted before.”
 
Applejack’s neck slowly stiffened, and something akin to surprise crept into her expression. “Why would ya think I’d have that kind of advice?”
 
“Well, at first I thought Rarity would help, but then she told me I should ask you ‘cause you know way, way more about that kinda stuff than she does. Um…. That true, Applejack?”
 
The image of a loud, overly-flattering Rarity bore needles into Applejack’s imagination. She dragged a hoof out from under her and started rubbing the side of her head, as if doing that would make the thought go away. Regardless, she kept her face warm for her sister. “Well, Rarity might’ve been exaggeratin’ a lil’ bit.” She pulled out her other foreleg and used them both to drag herself around to meet her sister eye-to-eye.
 
Apple Bloom looked at her funny. “Well…what exactly did she exaggerate?”
 
“Well, when I was little I was in a couple of those school plays. I was…pretty good, if I recall. Me and Rarity were in the same class, so she likely remembers all that.”
 
Apple Bloom’s face lit up. “So does that mean you’ll help me get the part?”
 
“Sorry, lil’ sis. I ain’t no acting teacher. ‘Sides, it’s been so long, I wouldn’t be no help.”
 
“Please, Applejack?” Apple Bloom pushed her pout right into her big sister’s face. Applejack’s heart might have melted instantly if she had been a kinder pony, although at this closeness she could definitely feel it starting to trickle. She reacted quickly by rising on all fours.
 
“Look, it just wouldn’t work,” she said quickly, letting a self-deprecating grin slip onto her lips. “I might just tell y’all the wrong things and lower your chances.”
 
But Apple Bloom kept at it. “Please, big sis? I don’t think you’d mess up. You’re the best sister in the whole wide world.”
 
Well, Apple Bloom wasn’t going to improve her chances any by getting on her big sister’s nerves. “Even if I was of any use,” Applejack continued, “I just don’t have the time to be helpin’.” She turned away from her sister and started to walk out of the shade. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to start fixin’ that dang fence. That project’s gonna be a doozy.”
 
Apple Bloom darted in front of her so fast that she thought she was dreaming for a second. “Come on, Applejack, enough o’ that phony down-talkin’. When ya gonna be done?”
 
Applejack took her hoof and nudged her sister aside. “I dunno. Could take days. Now go help your brother pick up the branches.”
 
Applejack broke into a trot. Her destination was just behind the sun-shimmered hills. But then her little sister growled:
 
“Fine! Be selfish like that!”
 
Applejack missed a step, pausing. But the pause was brief, and she immediately went back on her way. Nope, nope, nope, she thought. She was not going to let her little sister trample on her nerves today.
 
Before running into the orchard, she swung by the shed to grab her toolbox. She had almost forgotten the thing. Then as she was trotting among the trees, she flinched when she realized she had left her hat at her resting spot. Her growl came out muffled through the toolbox’s handle. There was no way in a frozen summer that she was going to go back there and risk running into Apple Bloom again.
 
Trudging out of the shade of the apple trees, she gave a little wince at the clarity of the noontime sunlight. She looked to her left: she saw a long, long line of semi-uprooted posts and splintered wooden planks. She looked to her right and saw the exact same thing. She had yet to break a sweat, and she was already tired of this.
 
She dropped the box next the stacks of extra planks she had dragged over earlier that morning. She flipped open the lid and stared hard at her tools. Of all of the ridiculous tasks ahead of her, this was one she wanted to get a start on the most.
 
Hammer and nails clenched carefully in her teeth, Applejack made for the nearest plot of destruction and immediately got to work.
 
Sweat flew off her brow with each hammer stroke. Usually, big thunderstorms were followed by perfect weather. Today, for example, there was hardly a cloud in the sky. Just a nice temperate air and a lively sun. Unfortunately, in her family’s line of work, you could only really enjoy a few of those types of days out of the year. Out under the cloudless sky in the high part of the day, the sun was trying its hardest to sweat the life out of Applejack. The most labor she undertook was as simple as balancing the broken-off posts to their proper positions to be nailed back into place, and still her limbs were burning beneath the weight of the sun’s beams.
 
The fence was as far as Sweet Apple Acres stretched in that direction. Beyond that was a vast stretch of empty, fertile countryside. There was so much land out there, sparkling like a promise in the afternoon heat. The trees out there were just as still as the trees on the farm, but already Applejack was imagining another apple orchard rising from the ground.
 
She shook herself indignantly, as if pulling herself out of danger. No silly daydreams, she scolded herself soundlessly. The only sound she should satisfy herself with should be the sound of her hammer pounding these planks together. She carefully positioned another nail with her hoof and swung her jaw to complete the fitting.
 
Hammer thumps and bird chirps created a strangely fitting theme for the fence’s still backdrop. It was minimal noise that just seemed to echo over the fertile tableau. Whenever Applejack spared a moment to shake the sweat from her mane, she found herself staring idly at an invisible fire waving at her from the other side.
 
Huh?
 
Applejack had to shake her head. That was a weird way to think about the heat, to say the least.   Those were good fields, the sensible part of her fired back. Maybe not particularly economic for new apple trees, but still viable for more corn. Her head nodded, bits jingling on the inside. Before she knew it, she had lost sight of the supposed fires and was thinking about all the extra corn she and her family would be eating.
 
She gave herself another shake, this time growling behind the hammer. She craned her neck down on the bottom plank again and continued whacking away. Her head was soggy with all of its accumulated sweat. Applejack felt icky, but still she made herself toil. She didn’t stop to even shake off her sweat. Soon enough, she was feeling perspiration snaking between the hairs on her face.
 
Some of it finally dripped into her eyes, and she flinched at the subsequent stinging. She immediately flung her foreleg over her face, trying to rub the pain away. She put her leg down when she thought she got it, but something still burned. She tried blinking, and when that failed, she rubbed her eyes a second time.
 
“’Sup Applejack!”
 
She nearly shouted as her head flew out of her foreleg. Her heart had tensed from the initial surprise, but normalcy returned when she saw Rainbow Dash standing off to her left. Applejack had thrown her head in an uncomfortable angle, so she spat out her hammer and properly turned towards her friend. “Howdy, Rainbow!”
 
The casual smirk on the pegasus’ face turned into a confused grimace. “Um…are you okay, AJ?”
 
“Of course. I’m peachy!”
 
“But…your eyes are kinda….”
 
Applejack realized that she was blinking again. She gave her eyelids a few final flutters and flourished her foreleg over her face. “Aw, I ain’t got nothin’ to cry ‘bout. I just got a lil’ sweat in my eyes.”
 
Rainbow Dash’s grin returned, looking particularly crafty if Applejack could say so herself. She walked up to Applejack with her neck tilted mischievously to the side. “Looks like somepony’s been working her butt off all day, huh?” She punctuated her words with a head-tilt towards her, and a grin that was wider than previously.
 
“Yeah, for the most part.” Applejack gestured her head at the fence. “This ole’ fence here didn’t take last night’s storm too well. Hoo! I’ll be tossed like a pancake if I’ve ever seen one that strong!”
 
Rainbow chuckled. “Sorry ‘bout that. The weather team really outdid themselves that time.” She suddenly hopped in front of Applejack. “So, why’re you working, like, right now? Don’t you have a lunch break or something?”
 
Applejack shook her head, grinning. “I was takin’ a break, but Apple Bloom was…well, bein’ a pain in the flank. So needless to say, I got back to work faster than you can say cinnamon buns.”
 
“Well that bites. I’m glad I don’t have a family,” said Rainbow. “Nope. I’m my own pegasus, forging my own destiny.”
 
The pegasus struck a proud pose, and for one reason or another Applejack felt a sting of offense. It wasn’t too surprising; when it came to her family, all kinds of strong feelings would fill her mind. But as she looked at Rainbow Dash, head pointed high, she only let herself identify sympathy. Rainbow Dash and that brash tongue of hers, Applejack sighed inwardly.
 
In the back of her mind, a part of her was feeling particularly guilty for blowing off her little sister like she did. It wouldn’t be the first time she had to be blunt with Apple Bloom, but that last time was starting to look particularly unkind as she stood there in front of Rainbow Dash’s eternal smugness. She always liked to think that she was the most mature out of her group of friends. Acting like a mule towards her own kin just wasn’t who she was. Of course, an acting teacher wasn’t who she was either.
 
“Rainbow, you want a favor or somethin’?” Applejack finally asked, breaking out of her thoughts.
 
The pegasus’ eyes remained fixed to hers while her wings lifted her body off the ground. “Since Apple Bloom isn’t here to bother you, how ‘bout helping me with a new trick. Don’t worry: you don’t have to do anything too hard.”
 
Rainbow Dash had an awfully eager look on her face. Her wings were beating with a similar energy, tossing a breeze that Applejack would have killed for. Whatever Rainbow was planning, it had to be better than working with the sun right over her. “Alrighty, Rainbow Dash,” said Applejack. “I can spare ya a little while. A little while”
 
“Woo-hoo!” The pegasus barreled a backflip and rocketed straight up into the sky. Applejack raised a hoof over her eyes and tried to follow her. Rainbow Dash called, “Follow me!” and she darted off with haste.
 
Applejack quickly leaped into a gallop. “Hey! Wait up!”
 
Her friend didn’t lead her on a long journey. They wound up in a lonely, weedy lawn just outside of Ponyville behind a clump of overgrown trees. Applejack was thrilled when she spotted a huge cluster of clouds hanging over the grass. She stepped into the shade and sighed in ease.
 
Suddenly, a stray sunbeam fell onto her face. She looked up to see Rainbow Dash darting to earth through a hole in the clouds. “Okay, AJ, you ready?”
 
Smiling politely, she stepped back from the sunlight and replied, “Sure am, sugar cube. I’m already enjoyin’ this.”
 
“Great! Now, I need you stand somewhere over there.”
 
Applejack turned around and followed Rainbow Dash’s hoof to the sun-saturated field way beyond the shade. There were tall grasses and buzzing dragonflies on a lawn with only a few standing trees. Applejack couldn’t help rolling her eyes as she walked out of those clouds. When she thought she was far enough out, she spun around and cast her friend a fairly trodden look. “This good enough for ya?”
 
She popped out of the clouds and took a moment to stroke her chin. “Hmm…perfect!” She dug her forelegs into the billowy mass and pulled out a smaller cloud. “Okay, now I just need you to run around out there while I try to hit you with my cloud bolts.”
 
“Hold it right there, Rainbow Dash,” Applejack warned. “Would ya mind explainin’ what exactly you’re supposed to be doing?”
 
“Oh!” The pegasus giggled, her hoof reaching around her head. “Ya see: cloud bolts are these chunks of cloud that fly like lightning bolts when I buck them hard enough. I’ve been practicing making them, and I’ve got it down perfect. Now I just need a little target practice.”
 
Applejack gazed ponderously up at her friend, she and the little cloud she plucked looking so tiny against the big cloud looming behind them. She made an absent nod, letting her eyes wander over the empty blue sky surrounding the scene.
 
“Well, I’ll be!” Applejack burst. “You got every dang cloud left in Ponyville up in that monster, don’tcha?”
 
“Well, yeah!” whined the pegasus. “I kinda need them right now.”
 
“Is that allowed, Rainbow Dash?”
 
She shrugged.
 
Applejack sighed. “Alright, alright. So…is this gonna hurt any?”
 
“It’s just dust and water, Applejack. It’s not gonna kill you.”
 
“Why can’t ya just practice on those trees or something?”
 
“’Cause it’d be way more awesome if I could do it on a moving target!”
 
“It sounds awesome enough as it is, if you ask me.”
 
“Well, if you ask me, I think you can never be too awesome. Now get moving, Target!”
 
Rainbow Dash fluttered behind her cloud and readied her hind legs.
 
“Whoa, nelly!” Applejack immediately got running. She kept her eyes on the pegasus and nearly jumped out of her horseshoes when she saw a long white needle of cloud, jagged like a lightning bolt, race towards her. It splashed just inches from her tail. She continued running in circles watching Rainbow Dash kicking her cloud with endless tenacity. Cloud bolts were splashing all around her, yet Applejack had yet to actually feel one.
 
Rainbow Dash had finally whittled her little cloud into nothingness. Applejack noticed the frustration in her face before she turned to gather more ammunition. “Don’t get all frustrated, Rainbow!” She yelled back reassuringly. “You know I’m ‘bout as fast on the ground as you are!”
 
“Keep at it, AJ!” The pegasus screeched in response, gathering a new cloud in front of her. “I’m gonna hit you if it’s the last thing I do!”
 
The bolt storm raged on, and once again Applejack avoided every last one of them. Water exploded all around the running pony, so much so that it looked like it had been raining that whole time. At the rate that Rainbow Dash was expending her clouds, it very while might have counted as a rain shower under ordinary circumstances. When the pegasus had finished off her who-knows-what-numbered cloud, Applejack could see her visibly panting, her hind legs hanging limply from her floating form. The frustration on her face looked absolutely painful.
 
“Rainbow Dash?” Applejack yelled back carefully. “Yer an amazin’ flier. Why you need to get all worked up? I don’t think the Wonderbolt’s are lookin’ for expert marksponies.”
 
Rainbow Dash, however, obviously took that as a challenge, considering how she immediately drew up another cloud and readied her tired legs. “This is gonna be awesome, whether you like it or not, Applejack!” She bucked the cloud hard, and Applejack just barely darted out of the way.
 
“Dang it, Rainbow!” shouted galloping Applejack. “I wasn’t ready!”
 
“Well get ready for this!”
 
Cloud bolts started spitting out of the sky like sparks, and Applejack hurried on. She wasn’t going much faster than she had been the past half hour, but she was more than a little shook up by Rainbow Dash’s determination.
 
A wet blow to Applejack’s head sent her flying. Her sight dimmed into an aching, swirling blur. Suddenly, she felt every part of her body slam into the ground in rapid succession until she crashed on her side with a groan.
 
Applejack’s ears were buzzing. Worse, though, her head was throbbing horrendously. Suddenly, she thought she heard somepony’s voice. She slowly opened her eyes and saw a very worried-looking Rainbow Dash standing over her, her lips moving but her words inaudible.
 
“S-S-Say what now, Rainbow?”
 
“…’re…star?”
 
“Huh?” Applejack groaned, seeing her friend turn into two friends. “I ain’t no star! That’s crazy talk!”
 
“I s…see…’cars?”
 
“Car? The hay is that?”
 
The two Rainbow Dashes flashed a frustrated scowl, and Applejack was suddenly picked up under her shoulders and shaken harshly. Her brain rattled, and the two pegasi started spinning in her eyes. Yet somehow, the ringing in her ears stopped.
 
“I said, ‘are you seeing stars, Applejack?’,” Rainbow Dash yelled.
 
Applejack recoiled at the loudness, but quickly let her head fall back into its daze. “Not today, Rainbow.” She smiled weakly. “But I do feel mighty funny right now.”
 
Rainbow Dash finally let her fall back on all fours. Applejack felt quite wobbly just standing there. She looked at the world around her and saw everything spiraling out her vision. It didn’t help that her mane was soaking wet and only further agitating her aching skull. She blinked harshly and put a hoof to her forehead. However, she was forced to plant it back down when she felt something pushing her rump forward.
 
“Rainbow, what in tarnation—“
 
“You need to see someone, Applejack.” she heard Rainbow’s voice behind her. “You probably have a concussion, and that’s serious business!” She growled, exasperated. “I’m so sorry, AJ.”
 
Part of Applejack wanted no part in letting anypony push her around, but somehow she managed to swallow her pride and let her friend guide her into Ponyville. As all the buildings finally swam into her sight, she suddenly felt Rainbow Dash leave her. “So, uh…do you think you need a hospital, or what?”
 
Applejack twisted her neck back and looked at her friend. “Geez,” she chuckled. “Is one of y’all disguised as Fluttershy?”
 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
 
“I mean, yer actin’ unusually caring.”
 
“I can be every bit as caring as Fluttershy,” Rainbow Dash retorted. “Besides, I wouldn’t have to be if somepony weren’t so soft-headed!”
 
In her decidedly loopy state, Applejack was surprised that she didn’t burst out in crazed laughter. This was the great caring Rainbow Dash! Instead, Applejack just grinned and swung her head back in front of her. “That’s awfully sweet of you, but I don’t think I’m that hurt.” Head held high, she walked forward into the swirling blur her eyes showed her. “And ya don’t need to help me walk. I can take it from here—“
 
She slammed into something and heard a hollow, metallic clang. She looked up and saw something that looked like a gutter pipe sway to the side. She gave herself a quick shake, and suddenly it all became clear.
 
“Uh oh.”
 
The rusty old pipe severed from the gutter above it and tipped over into the street. A flock of chickens happened to be milling right where the pipe slammed into the ground. The impact sent them into a clucking frenzy, hovering wildly to the other side of the street where a pony with a wagon-full of tomatoes was doing business with—and Applejack cringed at the potential outcome as she saw—Rarity.
 
Rarity gave an ear-shattering screech as the chickens crowded in from behind her and started flapping over the tomatoes. The tomato salespony screamed, “No! My tomatoes!” with just as much horror.
 
The chickens flapped out of the way of the pony’s angry swipe and starting running down the street. While the he chased after them, Rarity turned around and saw Applejack staring at the scene. An indignant look took ahold of her as she approached her. “Applejack! Did you have something to do with that little scene?”
 
Applejack had no doubt the guilt on her face was saying enough. But still, she said, “Kinda.”
 
A quick flash of wind told her Rainbow Dash had darted beside her. “Oh, thank goodness, Rarity!” she gushed. “Applejack needs help. I kinda messed up her head a little while ago.”
 
The unicorn gave Applejack an appraising look. “I say. You look like you nearly got yourself drowned.”
 
Applejack chuckled. “Kinda.”
 
“Very well, then. Come with me.”
 
 Applejack’s steps had steadied somewhat. The clones of everypony around her had more or less disappeared. As she was led into Carousel Boutique, the voices of three little fillies pounded into her reeling head.
 
“Hi, Applejack! Hi, Rainbow Dash!”
 
Applejack turned to where Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo were sitting and waved absently. But soon she found herself in a different room, and the door behind her slammed shut. She recognized it as the big dressing room where she and the others had gotten dressed for the Grand Galloping Gala.
 
“Sit down, Applejack. I insist.” Rarity gave good advice, and Applejack fell on her haunches. She heard something that sounded like the whip of a large piece of clothing behind her. Then all the sudden, she felt a towel engulf her crown, rubbing her mane all around. When that was all done, she then felt a brush rolling down her newly-dried mane. “You simply must be careful around large bodies of water, Applejack,” Rarity spoke as she brushed.
 
“Um, Rarity?” Rainbow Dash was standing in front of Applejack, looking beyond her with a puzzled look. “How is this gonna fix her concussion?”
 
Rarity gasped. “She has a concussion? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I’m not a doctor!”
 
“Well, then what was the point of all of this?”
 
“I thought she simply needed her head dried. It isn’t healthy, you know. That’s how ponies catch colds.”
 
Applejack fell onto her stomach despite whatever might have been most courteous. She rolled her head around slowly, casting comforting looks at both her friends. “Look, girls, I’m fine. Just let me sit for a second. I’m just exhausted right now.”
 
She began to roll her legs beneath her, to lower her head onto the floor. Then a noise that sounded like small fillies being brutally tortured made her snap her neck upright. She looked towards the door where the sound, though muffled, was pouring in the strongest. Rainbow Dash was giving it a scowl, and she heard Rarity breathe a sigh.
 
“Pardon the noise. Sweetie and her friends are practicing for play tryouts.”
 
Applejack looked at the door doubtfully. There was still a little bit of ringing in her ears, but she could definitely catch some kind of dramatic dialogue coming from the other side.
 
“But mom!—,” Applejack cringed a little at the sound of Sweetie Belle’s cracking screech. “But mom, that not…fair!”
 
“There’s nutin’ to b’done ‘bout it…child. Now don—do not!—talk back t’me like that ever again, young lady!”
 
Apple Bloom wasn’t faring much better.
 
“Hey, Rarity,” Applejack twisted her neck behind her. “Why did ya tell Apple Bloom to ask me for actin’ advice?”
 
“Well, who better than you?” Rarity asked with a surprised glance. “I told them everything I knew, but I’m afraid it’s…not helped their chances in the slightest.” She sighed dreamily. “I can act like a lady, certainly, but that’s who I am, so it doesn’t really count. But you were always so versatile—so talented, I say—back in school.”
 
“Wait a minute,” burst Rainbow Dash. “You act, AJ? Like, besides the Hearth’s Warming pageant?”
 
Applejack was grinning and rolling her eyes. “Oh, I—.”
 
“Oh, it was her one true passion, believe it or not!” Rarity interrupted. “She was in all of the school plays, playing all sorts of roles. She always kept saying how she would end up in Manehattan and act on Broadway one day.”
 
Applejack was red-faced and feeling completely helpless. “Come on, Rarity, I—“
 
“And she really was wonderful. She was a shoo-in every time she tried out, and audiences just loved her.” She giggled. “No wonder she wanted to be an actress when she grew up.”
 
“Th-that was so long ago Rarity.” Applejack laughed a little uneasily. “I haven’t done anything like that in years. The pageant, sure, but that’s barely the same as a real production. ‘Sides, bein’ good at somethin’ doesn’t just make ya a good teacher by default.”
 
“Good day, chaps!” Scootaloo’s voice made Applejack’s ears flap back. She wasn’t even sure what kind of accent she was listening too. “Oh! Am I interrupting something?”
 
Growling, Rarity flew to the door. Sticking her head through the crack, she yelled, “Would you girls please lower the volume! You’re making Applejack’s headache worse!”
 
“Hey! Can Applejack come and tell us what she thinks?” cried back Apple Bloom.
 
“Yeah!” chimed Scootaloo. “She’s an honest critic, right?”
 
Rarity shook her head wildly. “Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary since—“
 
“I’m comin’, sis.” Applejack began to lift herself up. “Hold yer horses.”
 
Rarity moved aside to let her walk through the door, all the while looking at her skeptically. Applejack found the fillies right where she left them when she first walked in, all looking up at her with expectant glimmers in their eyes.
 
“Okay, girls! Do what’cha gonna do.”
 
“Um, should we start from the beginning?” Scootaloo pointed her eyes at Applejack, but her gaze flew over her friends as well.
 
Apple Bloom shrugged and Sweetie Belle looked at the little paper book on the floor in uncertainty. “Sure.” “I guess that’s okay.”
 
Apple Bloom, clearing her throat, looked at her own book and began reciting, “Now, young lady, you’ve have a lot of explainin’ t’do.”
 
Sweetie Belle’s response had enough drama to make certain she was related to Rarity. “Mother! Whatever do you mean?”
 
“Don’t ya dare gimme that excuse!” Apple Bloom’s voice rose. “I know that yer plannin’ to run off with that…uh…callous, uncouth colt.”
 
“How did you—you were snooping in my purse, weren’t you! How dare you!”
 
The two fillies continued their dialogue, and Applejack somehow was able to endure it. Of course these girls weren’t going to sound like professionals, but even for children she could not deny that they were stinking the place up. It wasn’t even hilariously bad. It was just bad, and worst of all really loud. Loudness is good in acting, sure, but this was overkill. No doubt Rarity’s advice had a role in this, she being Miss Dramatic in pretty much everything. Scootaloo joined in after a while, and she was no better. The trio of cute little harpies was making Applejack’s head start throbbing again. Her ears were torn between closing over her temples for sanity’s sake and staying open for the sake of politeness.
 
“So how were we, big sis?”
 
Applejack’s face flickered between supportive smiles and disgust. “Uh…. It was…not as bad is could have been for yer first time.”
 
The fillies looked at her full-toothed smile suspiciously for a moment. Scootaloo was the first one to drop her head and groan. “I knew it! We stink!”
 
Sweetie Belle sighed. “I guess we should try something else, huh?”
 
Apple Bloom stomped her hooves angrily on her script. “Geez Louise! Can’t we do anything right?”
 
“Hey!” Applejack took a fierce step towards her sister. “I don’t wanna hear that kind of talk. There’s no reason you girls can’t improve if you put yourselves to it.”
 
“But how can we improve?” asked Sweetie Belle. “We barely know what we’re doing in general.”
 
“Toss that script over here, Apple Bloom.”
 
Apple Bloom took the script in her mouth and tossed it. Applejack caught in in her own teeth and promptly dropped it open on the floor. She flipped to the front page and gaped at the title. She remembered being in this exact same play one year. She smiled. That would definitely help. She flipped through some more pages and stopped when she noticed several chunks of highlighted text.
 
“All right. I’m guessin’ you’re Mrs. High Falootin’, Apple Bloom?”
 
“Yep!”
 
“So then I guess that makes Sweetie Belle your daughter and Scoots the gardener.”
 
“Mm-Hm!”
 
Applejack took a deep breath. “Well, I’m no expert…but the big issue to me is that none of y’all sound believable in any sense of the word. It’s good that yer speaking loudly, but that doesn’t mean yellin’ every single line. Ya gotta sound sincere, real. Imagine how those characters would act in real life, and try to pretend that’s who you are.”
 
The three fillies were staring at her attentively. Her little audience. They weren’t applauding her, but she could see hope returning to them. But Applejack wasn’t done yet.
 
“Sweetie Belle, I know Rarity’s yer sister and all, but your character isn’t her. She’s actually a little like yours truly, so a little less screechiness. Scootaloo, I don’t know what Ms. Cheerilee’s policy is, but the gardener’s a male role. You comfortable with that, ‘cause the gardener actually tries making a move on Mrs. High Falootin’ at some point in the play.”
 
Scootaloo flashed a shocked looked between Applejack and Apple Bloom. “Really? Ew!”
 
Applejack chuckled. “That’s why ya gotta actually read the script.”
 
Finally, she turned to her sister. “Apple Bloom, the same pretty much applies to you as well. But, if you wanna have any hope of cinchin’ Mrs. High Falootin’, you need to try to sound fancy. Your family’s accent just ain’t gonna cut it.”
 
Apple Bloom looked shocked. “My accent? But I’ve talked that way my whole life. How do I just start soundin’ fancy?”
 
“Just gonna have to practice.”
 
Apple Bloom groaned. “Learnin’ the lines and how to talk? How’m I s’posed to do all of that by next week?”
 
“Applejack,” Rarity’s voice spoke behind her. “Why don’t you show your sister an example of ‘fancy talk’?”
 
“What?” Applejack’s neck twisted back furiously.
 
Rarity had spread her sights over the children. “Applejack was very good at playing high-stationed characters when she acted in her own school plays.”
 
“Oh yeah!” cried Apple Bloom. “And ya told us how you learned to speak all nice-like when ya lived in Manehattan!”
 
Applejack turned back to the fillies and tried to explain, “I—well I don’t think—it’s been a while. I’d probably sound silly and just set a poor example.”
 
“Oh, just try, Applejack,” Rarity urged her. “You’re always so humble when you shouldn’t be.”
 
“Heheh, yeah! I wanna hear this!” said Scootaloo.
 
Applejack searched vainly around with her eyes to buy time while she searched her brain for an excuse. When that failed, she dropped her head and sighed. “Okay….” She reached out a hoof and started flipping through the script again. “I guess, I’ll read some of High Falootin’s lines. Don’t get too excited, girls.”
 
Applejack cleared her throat and focused intently on the words on the page. Here goes nothing, she thought. She opened her mouth and became somepony else.
 
“Perhaps you did not understand me the first time. Now, I may not be well acquainted with your ways, but in my family that kind of talk is unacceptable. It is not proper behavior for growing pony. Habits like that need to be crushed, snuffed out completely! Of course, I know that I can’t control those things truly, but I most certainly can keep wrongheaded ponies like yourself from poisoning her so!”
 
That was good enough, she thought. She looked up from the script to see her little audience completely awestruck. Applejack felt a very uncomfortable silence, enough to make her eyes twitch between the fillies and the script several times.
 
“Wow, Applejack!” Apple Bloom breathed. “I didn’t know you could sound so…elegant.”
 
Applejack reddened and forced herself to laugh. “Aw shucks, that was hardly elegant.”
 
Applejack could feel her heart flutter at the looks the children were giving her. “So, yeah…most importantly, ya gotta keep practicin’. Practice makes perfect, as they say. Don’t expect to get good overnight, or even just hearing me prattle on an’ on.” She smiled cautiously. “Well, thanks for havin’ me, Rarity. If y’all excuse me, I should be fixin’ a fence.” She backed up towards the front door, smiling for her audience and hoping they were done with her.
 

 

&&

 

 
Applejack spent the next few days in relative comfort. She went on doing the same things she always did with little to no interruptions. Although, that darn fence was giving her conscience some grief. She was making progress towards its repair, but it was going so much slower than she would have liked. She had been trying to fix up the barn and the roof as well as performing her other typical farm tasks.
 
She was once again taking a break beneath the same tree where she always took her breaks. Her head was in its usual place—trees looking like dreams, shimmering air, general fuzziness. And also lying on the ground, of course.
 
“Applejack! I did it! I did it!”
 
Her head darted upright. She could hardly believe her ears. As she watched her little sister gallop towards her, she couldn’t help but be warmed by the big happy grin she wore.
 
“That’s great news, sis!” Applejack chimed. “I knew you could do it if ya tried.”
 
She nodded hardily. “I couldn’t’ve done it without ya, Applejack.” She looked at her hooves nervously. “So…do ya think you could help me some more? I got a lot of lines, and I don’t wanna mess up.”
 
Applejack made an uncertain look, turning her eyes upward in a searching gesture. “Well…I can’t make any big promises. I got that pesky fence to worry ‘bout, and I’ve been really slackin’ off there.”
 
Apple Bloom’s face fell.
 
“I’m sure we can get together sometime later today, though!” Applejack reassured.
 
Apple Bloom’s face burst back into smiles. “Thanks, Applejack!” She suddenly hugged her forelegs around Applejack’s neck. “I’ll be really good, and I’ll get my cutie mark!”
 
Apple Bloom let go and let her sister get onto her hooves. “I sure hope so. Now, I’mma go get back to work. You study yer lines, now. But do yer chores first.”
 
“Okay!”
 
It seemed that for every minute Applejack pounded her hammer, she would spend five more just staring down the length of what she still had to do. There was still a ton of devastation left for her to repair. It seemed to stretch on endlessly. Sometimes, Applejack could have sworn that it had grown longer.
 
Applejack always tried to shake herself out of daydreams like those, but they just kept pulling her in somehow. She would end up just leaning over the fence, drooping her neck hopelessly. She couldn’t blame the sun for her behavior now. After all the sweat she had poured out on the first day of work, she always made sure to bring her hat with her.
 
“’Sup, AJ.”
 
Applejack lifted her head and wound up nearly touching Rainbow Dash’s snout with her own. She was just hovering above her like it didn’t mean anything, with her own neck drooping to meet hers.
 
“I’m a little busy here, Rainbow,” Applejack said coolly.
 
The pegasus wheeled back a little bit. “Busy chillin’?” She laughed. “Same here!”
 
“What’s that funny-looking thing ya got there?”
 
Rainbow Dash had some strange rounded object tucked between her hooves. Grinning, she shoved them out in front of her and put the object on display. It was some egg-shaped object, colored black and white like a checkers board. “I’m glad you asked. This is a ‘hoof-ball’. It’s the hottest game in Equestria, and we’re going to test this baby.”
 
“Not on my head, I hope.”
 
“Ha ha ha,” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “I know you wanna try it, Applejack. You aren’t doing anything anyway.”
 
Applejack growled. “Well I should be doin’ somethin’. And you ain’t helpin’ me get it done.” She lapped up the hammer again and hauled another plank into place. “’Sides, I know I’ll be helpin’ my sis practice her school play later, so I really don’t think I should be havin’ too much fun with y’all today.”
 
“Gosh, are you ever free?”
 
“What can I say? Some ponies just work forever.” She shrugged. “Why don’t ya put that ball in the shed? I’ll admit, I do like me a game of ball every now and then.”
 
Rainbow Dash sighed and fluttered away. Applejack finally turned back to her work. She hardened her features, a look that said I’m gonna do this, and slammed her hammer again. But she had only swung it twice before she found herself gazing down the fence again, frozen in worrisome daydreams.
 
And so, another day of baby steps flew over Applejack. After supper was over, she honestly would’ve liked nothing better than to lie down and try to figure out how she would start making progress. But instead, she paid a visit to her little sister’s bedroom. She had to keep her word and help her practice.
 
She knocked politely. “It’s me, Apple Bloom. Ya ready?”
 
The door swung inward and the little filly was right there looking up at her. “Ya actually came!”
 
Applejack walked into the room. “Of course. Ya didn’t think I’d leave my own sister hangin’, did ya?”
 
Apple Bloom pulled up beside her. “I’ve been practicin’ just like ya said.” She frowned contemplatively for a moment. “So…what’re we gonna do, exactly?”
 
“Well, I guess I’ll listen to ya act, and then I’ll ya what you should do to sound better.”
 
“I’m real glad yer here, AJ.” Her face hardened in determination. “I really wanna get this right.”
 
Applejack took her place in the middle of the floor, dropping onto her haunches and beaming down at her sister. “We’ll get you there, Apple Bloom.”
 

 

&&

Applejack prided herself in being a focused, ready-set pony. The back of her mind was constantly scolding her for her daydreams these days. But technically this wasn’t a daydream. It was simple reminiscence.
 
It was one of the first plays Applejack had ever been in. Unlike Apple Bloom, though, she played Mrs. High Falootin’s daughter. She remembered it like it was yesterday. She had walked up onto the stage in a really frilly dress, ideal for a mare of high status. It didn’t bother her much, she recalled. It was all just pretend, and everypony in the audience knew that. Back in those days, her rugged dignity wasn’t quite what it was as a grownup pony. Back then, she just wanted everypony to know she was a darn good performer.
 
She remembered silently trembling while she awaited her cue. She sat in front of a vanity, waving her braid back and forth idly. Her teacher had told her try to look “demure”, which basically meant cute. Applejack had no way of knowing if she was doing that correctly, and already she was stressing. But she breathed deeply through her nostrils and repeated the lines in her mind for the millionth time. Fear was bad. She was a brave pony, and no stage fright was going to get her!
 
“Dear, I need just a moment of your time.”
 
Applejack’s eyes darted to where her sister entered the stage. She grinned. Not at her sister’s change of accent; she had helped transform it, after all. But hearing her acting fancy in that frou-frou getup was making giggles well up in her throat. So far so good, just like she practiced.
 
Applejack knew what the daughter would say next. As soon as Applejack opened her mouth so many years ago, everything became natural. “What is it, Mother?”
 
Apple Bloom strutted forward with all the pomp of a highborn lady, chin held high, speaking in clear haughty tones. Applejack was impressed, although her accent wasn’t quite perfect. “I heard that quite a few letters have been flying from this house lately. Now, I certainly have not had the need to write so many, and of course your father does all his mail from his workplace. Has it been you, darling?”
 
Sweetie Belle cast nervous glances at her hooves and towards the vanity. This wasn’t out of stage fright, Applejack knew. She had made similar gestures when she played that role. After all, the daughter did not want her mother to find out about the letters and never imagined having her silliness be put on the spot. “Well…yes. You see, I have been sending a few things to a journal in my free time, you see....”
 
“Oh? What kind of things?”
 
“Just some poetry.”
 
Apple Bloom demurely placed a hoof over her giggling mouth. “That sounds lovely. But why send it off? Oh, you shouldn’t get caught up in that publishing business. It makes you sweat when you have no business to, or even any hope.”
 
“But I’m not sweaty!” Applejack grinned at that. She had been sweating profusely when it was her up there, and she was worried that the audience would notice.
 
“Are you? You put so much work into frivolity, and when you publish you expect something meaningful in return. Well, you should know that you’d be relying on Fortune’s whims to get you what you want.”
 
“Have you ever even heard what I’ve written?”
 
“Oh, I’m sure it’s wonderful, dear. Feel free to write.” She walked up beside her daughter and placed her hooves on her shoulders. “You’re a beautiful creature. I’d just hate to see that beauty sullied by broken dreams. They are…fragile.”
 
Apple Bloom smiled kindly and exited the stage. It was at this point that Mrs. High Falootin’s daughter would give her first monologue. Applejack couldn’t remember what it was word for word. She remembered how she flew through her initial fright and poured out her lines as if she were merely practicing. To that day she had no idea how she did it, especially considering how she nearly started hyperventilating after she exited the stage for the scene after that. Hearing Sweetie Belle recite it, though, made Applejack imagine herself saying those words. The daughter’s plight, the conflict between the standards of her mother’s and her individual ambitions, is first hinted at in this scene. Here the audience catches a glimpse of the extent of her dreams as well as her frustrations.
 
It was a fun little performance. A good mix of story and humor for ponies of all ages. It was all about these different ponies who interacted with a high society family in one way or another, particularly with the daughter. Mrs. High Falootin’ was an overprotective mother who knew that one of three colts in the cast had romantic eyes for her daughter. Much of the humor and suspense in the play came from her many attempts to snuff them all out. The funniest part about it for Applejack, though, had been how all these colts were fawning over her in the play when they wouldn’t in real life.
 
In the end, the daughter finally got through her mother’s thick skull that her ambitions weren’t all nonsense, and that she had every right to pick a man outside her mother’s approval, risky as it might have been. All grudges shattered, subplots wrapped up, and future hopes established, all the foals in the cast lined up on stage and bowed to the applause. Applejack and her family cried out extra loudly for their little girl standing towards the middle next to Sweetie Belle. Applejack could sincerely say that she did a great job. And to think that she was moaning about not being able to do anything right barely a month ago.
 
 

&&

 

 
“All that work…for nothin’!”
 
Applejack sighed. It was quite miserable walking beside her despondent little sister that evening. She said those words as she was staring at her still-blank flank.
 
“Aw, sport,” Applejack said. “You should be proud how well ya did.”
 
“But I was supposed to get my cutie mark!”
 
“But you had fun, didn’t ya?”
 
“Kinda. But half of that was thinkin’ about my cutie mark.”
 
It wasn’t a long walk back to their house on the farm. The lanterns on the front door were already lit, so Big Macintosh didn’t have any trouble finding the doorknob. He opened the door like a gentlecolt for the three mares of the house. Granny Smith hobbled up the porch steps first, followed by unhappy Apple Bloom and her equally dismayed big sister.
 
“Apple Bloom.”
 
Applejack looked at her grandmother with surprise as she saw her rest her hoof on the filly’s shoulder.
 
“You should listen to yer sister. You put on a heckuva show, an’ y’all shouldn’t be sad just ‘cause ya didn’t get yer cutie mark.”
 
“If I was really so good, then why do I still have a blank flank?”
 
Granny sighed and put a hoof to her face. “I swear, you an yer friends…. Now listen here.” Her tone softened. “Yer gonna get yer cutie mark just like everypony else. No need to be stressin’ out about it an’ tryin’ out every single scheme possible, ‘cause everypony has a certain special talent, whether they want it or not.”  
 
The old pony yawned. “All righty. I’m gonna turn in fer the night.” She began her slow ascent on the stairs with Big Mac following close behind her. Applejack cast a conflicted look at her grandmother’s hunched, old back. Her big brother helped her up the stairs much quicker than she would have traveled on her own. They disappeared at the top, and their steps quieted.
 
“Then what am I supposed to be doin’? I don’t wanna graduate without my cutie mark.”
 
Applejack turned back to her sister and smiled reassuringly. “Ya just gotta keep tryin’, sis. That’s what bein’ a grownup’s all about.”
 
The filly hung her head low and walked up the stairs as well. Applejack cast a sad look at her back. It struck her when she thought about how determined she was. Applejack knew what she was going through. She went through it herself when she was her age. But Applejack wasn’t nearly as determined. Of course, she was generally more patient than Apple Bloom. Regardless, she had a will Applejack envied.
 
She walked up to the lonely lamp flickering on the wall, the only light on in the house. It really was a waste of time to be fussing over a cutie mark. Applejack didn’t know a whole lot outside of farming, but she knew that much was true. Her eyes lingered for a while on the tiny little fire, just barely sending a light across her somber demeanor. It was just like Granny said. She would get her mark, no matter her thoughts or actions, and she would be all set for life ahead. She blew out the candle, and night’s darkness engulfed her.
 
On the very next day, Applejack once again had to snap herself out of a dream. She stamped the ground in frustration. It had been a couple days since she got to work on the fence. She had been working on it on-and-off for the past month. Applejack liked to look down at the big stretch of fence that she had completed. But then there was all that still remained to repair, and her mind would reel hopelessly.
 
She readied yet another plank and turned her hammer-bearing jaw into a ready position.
 
“Oh Applejack!”
 
She pretended to not hear Rarity’s voice and proceeded to pound away. Darn distractions, Applejack felt like shouting. If it weren’t for the hammer in her teeth, she might have shouted something worse.
 
“Applejack?”
 
Rarity was standing right behind her, it sounded like. Applejack straightened her neck and nodded approvingly at the bit of work she just accomplished. Now she felt a little better about humoring another distraction. She spat out the hammer and turned to meet her friend. “Howdy, Rarity.”
 
“Do you know where I can find Sweetie Belle? I know she’s playing with your sister again today.”
 
“Oh. Well, their tree house is way out north of here, other side of the farm.”
 
Rarity looked where Applejack pointed and huffed miserably. “Other side?” She patted at the ground with a single hoof, grumbling, “That Sweetie Belle. Making me walk all over Equestria because she couldn’t be responsible.”
 
“Why ya need to find her?”
 
She jerked her head to her saddlebag. “Oh, I made something for her and her friends today, but she left it at my house. So, like a good big sister, I’m doing what she should have done herself.”
 
“I’ll take whatever it is to ‘em.”
 
“You would?”
 
“’Course! Ya always do so much for me, why can’t I do somethin’ fer you?”
 
Light sparked out of Rarity’s horn and engulfed her saddle bag. It flew off her back and landed at Applejack’s hooves. “Oh, thank you so much! I’ve been awfully busy today, and I certainly wouldn’t want to waste working minutes combing through your property.”
 
“No problem! I’ll get this to ‘em lickity split!”
 
Rarity turned her back and took a few steps as if on her way home. Then all the sudden she turned back around. “Oh, by the way. Apple Bloom was just wonderful in that play, wasn’t she?”
 
“She was, yep!” Being yanked out of work again was starting to irritate her, but she was trying her best not to show it. “Same could be said of your lil’ sis too.”
 
“I agree. They were both wonderful. But I admit: your sister surprised me the most. Whatever advice you must’ve given her worked wonderfully.”
 
Applejack chuckled. “Aw, what makes ya think I had anythin’ to do with it? She’s a talented pony.” She sighed. “I keep tellin’ her that, but she don’t seem to believe it, since she don’t got no cutie mark.”
 
“Yes. Sweetie Belle was acting the same way.” She shrugged. “I’m not too worried, though. Those girls will find something else to get excited about soon enough.”
 
“Heh. I wish could say the same thing. I mean, I’m sure Apple Bloom’s fine and all, but…I guess I was really hopin’ she’d actually get it this time. I mean, we worked so hard and all, and I haven’t spent this much time with her in a while. Having one little cutie mark drag all of that down, well—it kinda dragged me down too.”
 
“I’m sorry. I’m sure it must’ve meant a lot to the both of you.”
 
“It’s fine.” She sighed. “Kids! Why they always wanna grow up so badly?”
 
“Oh, Applejack! Doesn’t everypony want to know their purpose in life? It’s certainly better than being a confused little filly your whole life.”
 
“Yeah, but…ya still got somethin’ to look forward to. Somethin’ to dream about when life gets boring. Then when it’s all set in stone…well, what’s left to aim for? What’re the Cutie Mark Crusaders gonna do when they get their cutie marks?”
 
“There’s plenty to aim for after you have a cutie mark! Look at me! You know I have hopes of being a household name in fashion. And Rainbow Dash is always on about joining the Wonderbolts. And, oh!” She feigned surprise, twisting her head to her flank. “We both have cutie marks.”
 
“Well, not everypony’s talent’s exactly gonna take ‘em places. I mean, look at the Apple family. Odds are, Apple Bloom’s gonna spend the rest of her life buckin’ apples. When she sees that apple on her flank, it ain’t gonna mean anythin’ if she keeps havin’ crazy ideas like she does now.”
 
Rarity looked at her for a while. It was making Applejack feel a little bit awkward. The unicorn was giving her an odd, almost invasive stare. Then she spoke in a sweet tone. “Applejack, are you always working?”
 
“Uh, no, not always. Ya know I set apart time for my friends.”
 
“Do you have any hobbies?”
 
Applejack looked at her strangely. That was the kind of question you’d ask someone you barely knew. “No, not that I know of, unless ya wanna count my love of havin’ a good time.”
 
“And what exactly is your idea of a good time?”
 
Applejack scratched her chin. “Well…I do like a long nap after a hard day’s work. I love playin’ games, too—I ain’t picky on which kind. And ya know I’m always up for a rodeo, which is kinda like a game, ‘cept with everypony watchin’ ya.”
 
“Do you daydream often?”
 
“Hey, now! I know I was lookin’ awful lazy, but I assure you it ain’t no habit. I’m a hard-workin’ pony.”
 
 Rarity giggled. “Of course, of course! They must be some interesting daydreams, hm? You said you don’t gaze off like that very often.”
 
“That’s a little personal, ain’t it?” Applejack didn’t have anything to hide: her daydreams really were quite boring. But Rarity’s invasiveness was making her a little uncomfortable.
 
“Oh, I wouldn’t tell anypony!” Rarity chimed. “There’s just so much about you, my friend, that I don’t know. I know, I know, I am a pony of intimidating class, but I’m always here if anything’s wrong.”
 
“Is that why yer askin’ questions? ‘Cause ya think something’s wrong with me?”
 
“Heavens! I wouldn’t just come at you with that mindset right away.” Then she tossed her head back, flourishing with a crafty smile. “No, I am precise as a needle, prodding at you to check if there is something wrong.”
 
Applejack once again had to push down her frustration. “I’m fine. No need to check nothin’. I’m sorry, Rarity, but I need to fix this fence. Been drivin’ me crazy.”
 
Rarity sighed and began trotting away once again. For a moment, she stopped and swung her head over. “Don’t forget to get that bag to my sister!” Then she smiled smugly. “Oh! But what am I saying? You have the bag, and nothing’s stopping you from doing as you please!”
 
Applejack watched cautiously as Rarity traveled away through the trees. When she had finally gotten out of eyesight, she snapped up the saddle bag and flew off in a different direction.
 
Applejack could understand why Rarity wouldn’t want to go find the girls herself. Sweet Apple Acres was a large piece of property, even though Applejack couldn’t personally imagine getting lost in it at any point. She rounded through the trees, past the half-finished barn and the corn fields, and then through even more trees until she came upon that lonely area where the tree house—once hers but now her sister’s—stood.
 
Then she gaped. Most of the tree house was standing, but a huge chunk of the wall was missing. She didn’t understand. It was fine just yesterday, and the weather had been perfect today. It looked like it had been torn off. She placed her hoof over her face in exasperation. Those fillies were up to something crazy again.
 
“Girls?” she called out. She didn’t get any response. Now it looked like she had to search for them. She took off once again, this time heading for the house.
 
She was fortunate to find Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo sitting there on the front lawn. But instead of wondering why Apple Bloom wasn’t with them, her curiosity was fixated the…wooden monstrosity that the two ponies were hammering and sawing away on. “So that’s where the wall went,” Applejack muttered. But what in the world were they making?
 
Suddenly the front door flew open, and Apple Bloom came trotting up to her friends with a giant rolled-up quilt burdened on her back. Applejack recognized that quilt. It was the old one that Granny Smith had made a long time ago. She galloped up the scene.
 
“Apple Bloom!” she burst. “What’re ya doin’ with that quilt? And why’s half the clubhouse sittin’ in front of the house?”
 
“Oh! Hey, sis!” Apple Bloom chirped. “We’re buildin’ a boat.”
 
Applejack had to look behind her one more time. After another good look, she swung back with a truly confounded look. “That’s a boat?”
 
“Hey! We’re still working on it!” cried Scootaloo.
 
“We need a sail,” Apple Bloom went on. “And, well…” She let the bundle roll down the curve of her back and then bumped her rump skyward to send the quilt flying up and then down in front of her. “This is just gonna have to do.”
 
She hurried towards her friends while kicking the bundle in front of her like a ball. “We’re gonna be Cutie Mark Crusader Sailors!”
 
“Sailors?”
 
“Yeah!” chimed Sweetie Belle. “You know: sailing the seven seas, claiming new lands, and all that.”
 
“What would a sailor cutie mark look like?” asked Apple Bloom.
 
“Maybe a boat?” Scootaloo commented
 
“An anchor would look pretty cool,” said Apple Bloom.
 
“What about an anchor surrounded by seagulls and a rope?” asked Sweetie Belle.
 
That would look cool,” said Scootaloo.
 
 “Okay, ‘nough chit-chat,” Apple Bloom interrupted. “Ya made any progress on the boat?”
 
“You were only gone for like five minutes!” whined Scootaloo.
 
“It’s still a good question. So?”
 
The two of them threw glances at the big wooden heap beside them. It was vaguely in the shape of a bowl, but nopony would believably call it a boat upon first glance. Scootaloo sighed. “Not a whole lot.”
 
“Don’t get discouraged, girls.” Sweetie Belle poked her head over the other side of the monstrosity. “We’re not gonna find our destinies by doing nothing.”
 
“Right!” “I know!” Apple Bloom and Scootaloo quickly replied.
 
Applejack watched the children with a surprising fondness. She could’ve, and probably should’ve, told them to stop doing whatever they were doing before they hurt themselves. But their naïve determination made her warm and heavy deep inside her. Sweetie Belle’s encouragement, though trivial, especially made her feel that. Then Applejack suddenly remembered why she was there, and she hurriedly undid her saddlebag.
 
“Sweetie Belle!” she called out in a muffled tone. The strap was in her teeth, and when the filly turned to her, she flung it. “That’s from Rarity!”
 
The bag landed in the midst of the wood, making several planks shift and bend uncertainly. But none of the girls complained, and Sweetie Belle looked at the bag in shock. “I completely forgot about them!” She dove her head into the big pouch and came out with three little sailor hats in her teeth. She flung out two of them towards her friends while she tossed the last one over her head.
 
Apple Bloom nudged the hat in front of her curiously. “Did yer sister make these?”
 
“Uh-huh!” nodded Sweetie Belle. “I asked her, and she was nice enough to make them and bring them here when I forgot to bring them.”
 
“How are hats gonna help us become sailors?” Scootaloo asked with a little irritation.
 
“Well, they’re probably not going to help us too much. I just thought maybe we could try to look the part, and maybe get us in the mindset?”
 
Apple Bloom put a hoof under her chin took a good look at Sweetie Belle. Then she turned to Scootaloo and placed one of the hats on the pegasus’ head. “Ya know, they would look real nice with an anchor-shaped cutie mark.”
 
Applejack didn’t pay attention to the rest of their conversation. She had already turned around and began walking back to the house. She no longer had the drive to work. It pained her to think that way, but she didn’t want to go back out there only to waste even more time. Yet strangely, she didn’t feel all that miserable. She looked over her shoulder and found her little sister rolling on the ground laughing her head off while her hat-toting friends sat there laughing just as loudly.
 
Instead of going into the house, Applejack chose to walk onto the porch. She found the rocking chair where Granny usually sat, and climbed herself in it. Sitting there on her haunches, letting the chair rock gently, she spread her sights over where the fillies were trying to work. With all those tools they stole from the shed, they really did need somepony to supervise them. Thankfully, Applejack could do just that in this comfortable position in front of the house.
 
But, goodness, did she feel old looking at them!
 
“Applejack?”
 
For the millionth time, she was snapped out of her thoughts. She looked down to see Apple Bloom with a large yellow envelope in her teeth. Applejack gave it a strange look at first, but finally took into her hoof. “Uh, what’s this?”
 
“It was in Sweetie Belle’s bag. It’s addressed to you.”
 
“I see,” said Applejack as she read her own name in Rarity’s lovely handwriting (it was too fancy to be anypony else’s). “Thanks, sis.”
 
“No prob, Applejack!”
 
Applejack ignored her sister’s retreating hoof beats. She felt around the envelope. There was definitely something heavier than a letter sitting in there. Like there was a small book shoved in it or something. It seemed awfully suspicious that Rarity wouldn’t mention any letter. She must have had a good reason, Applejack thought, with she being her friend and all. She tore open the envelope and pulled out its contents. A piece of paper was lying over the object, garnished with more of Rarity’s writing.
 
I’m sorry if this seems presumptuous in any way. Anyway, I think you should look into this. I think you’re plenty capable. You don’t have to commit to it completely. Why, you could simply try out once to see how far you can go. It would be fun!
 
“What’s she talkin’ ‘bout?” Applejack muttered. She flipped over the paper and gaped.
 
She was holding a small flyer for the Ponyville Theater. It was an advertisement. Now accepting applicants for our rendition of Shakespony’s masterpiece. And in big fancy text beneath the theater’s logo sat the play’s title: The Tempest.
 
Applejack stared at the flyer for a while, just trying to process the madness that one of her best friends had just thrown at her. Her lips were parted in a disbelieving grin, ready to burst out in laughter, but some uncomfortable weight inside of her was making her suspect that this wasn’t just a joke.
 
Rarity was an awfully clever pony. She loved her like a sister, of course, but sometimes that cleverness really made Applejack dislike her. Even though it was usually to her friends’ benefits, Rarity had a manipulative tendency that really struck a negative cord with Applejack’s sincere nature. So now Applejack found herself being manipulated. Sort of. When she thought about it again, it didn’t seem quite like Rarity was actually pulling any strings. Her little note was pretty straightforward. It was just a simple suggestion. But there was definitely something deliberate in making her sister the message-bearer instead of simply telling Applejack herself.
 
All those questions she kept hounding her with earlier now made some sense. Although, it looked like Rarity had acted with her own version of the truth in mind. So, yes, it was very presumptuous. Applejack should have been angry. Well, she certainly would have been angry if Rarity had just gone up and told her outright that she had a sweaty, directionless existence. Instead, however, Applejack chose to continue watching the children. Their little voices didn’t have any tangible meaning. Applejack’s mind focused on the image rather than the subject. Their voices were bird chirps, melodious and meaningless. Everything around them was a still, hazy picture.
 
Applejack realized she was having yet another uninteresting daydream. Sighing, she glanced back down at the flier. It was such a silly thing to suggest. She had responsibilities to uphold. She groaned contemplatively. Like what exactly? There wasn’t a whole lot left to do to the fields. The fence that never got finished? Well, she had to be honest with herself: the time she spent not working out there could easily be converted into a whole lot of free time.
 
Applejack let herself rock back and forth on the chair. But she was ill at ease. She had responsibilities, but she felt mildly disgusted that she was putting them off again. She finally flipped the flyer behind the little book. Unsurprisingly, the little book was the script for the Tempest. She idly flipped it open and began reading. Her eyes were taken off guard by the text’s archaic nature. It surprised her that a small town theater would be tackling something as fancy as Shakespony.
 
On any other day, Applejack would have put the darn thing down. She didn’t like having to look at foot notes every other line when she read. But today, she felt far too down-trodden about her work ethic to let a silly old script make her feel like a moron. So she pressed on, letting the words beam into her imagination and letting the story take shape in whatever way she could understand it.
 
Like the title suggested, it began with terrible storm at sea, with a bunch of important ponies panicking about their ship sinking. Real suspenseful stuff, she had to admit. For a moment, however, Applejack’s eyes left the script and floated back to the fillies in her front yard. They weren’t working on their little scheme anymore; now they were just chatting and giggling among themselves with their backs on the grass and their faces staring at the sky. Their boat was no more seaworthy than it was when she last looked. Good, thought Applejack with a smug grin. No chance for them to get caught in any sea storm.
 
Pushing away those thoughts, Applejack carried on with the script. At first she had trouble focusing because she kept getting stuck at words and phrases that confused her. But determined as ever to not let this text beat her, she decided to just outright ignore the footnotes and go by what she understood up front. And as it turned out, she began reading through the story with no distractions whatsoever. And what a story it was turning out to be, she had to admit.
 
Applejack understood this much: apparently those ponies on the ship at the start were nobles or something. But that storm that sunk their ship was actually whipped up by magic from this old stallion on a desert island. It turned out that this old magician was actually a duke who was betrayed by his brother, and, incidentally, that brother was also on that ship. He made it so that that he, the king his brother allied with, and the king’s son, all survived the wreck and landed safely on the island. That way he could set his scheme into motion. Applejack was thinking it would be some kind of revenge, but it didn’t seem particularly sinister as it all winded down. He basically arranged for the king’s son and his own daughter to fall in love and thereby restore his lost status through marriage.
 
No doubt there was some really complex sub textual business going on, but Applejack felt somewhat accomplished for understanding the basic plot. Although, despite all the funny-sounding language, it certainly wasn’t some great arduous feat. She liked the play for its exotic yet magical setting, and for all the ways it interacted with the characters. It was like something out of a dream. A really interesting dream.
 
Regardless, she couldn’t imagine herself pretending to be any of these characters. The magician-duke? He was a schemer, a manipulator, a convincing speaker: he was like a meaner version of certain friend of hers. His daughter? Bleh, thought Applejack. Her overall ignorant demeanor, cute as it might have been, just didn’t make Applejack feel comfortable putting herself in her horseshoes.
 
Besides, her choices were definitely limited. The magician’s daughter was the only female character. Well, her and the spirit that was enslaved to her father. The cast list had a note next to that character: can be played by male or female. She liked the Spirit. Unlike the magician’s other servant, a foul-mouthed monster, the Spirit was quite majestic and well-mannered. He knew his role and moved the plot forward with his powers. He was technically a minor character, but his actions still had an integral role in the story. Small, humble, but clearly important. Applejack could sympathize.
 
There was a passage of his that was highlighted somewhere in the script. She flipped through the pages and stopped when a flash of yellow caught her attention. Highlighted passages were the ones that you could try out with. She wondered what kind of dialogue would be representative of this character.
 
All hail, great master! Grave sir, hail! I come
To answer thy best pleasure. Be ‘t to fly,
To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
On the curled clouds, to thy strong bidding task
I and all mine quality….”
 
There was more dialogue after that, of course. These were lengthy stretches to memorize. Shakespony was clearly no place for amateurs. Curious, however, Applejack flipped through more pages, looking for another highlighted section. She found another one that was also voiced by the Spirit.
 
You fools, I and my fellows
Are ministers of Fate. The elements
Of whom your swords are tempered may as well
Wound the loud winds or with bemocked-at stabs
Kill the still-closing waters as diminish
One feather that’s in my plume. My fellow ministers
Are like invulnerable…. But remember—
For that’s my business to you—that you three
From his home did supplant the good duke,
Exposed unto the sea, which hath requite it,
Him and his innocent child, for which foul deed,
The powers—delaying not forgetting—have
Incensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures
Against your peace!”
 
That was one heck of a threat, thought Applejack, coming from the lips of the mild-mannered Spirit. But, as she remembered, this was the part of the play where he and the magician decides to put on a little spectacle to scare his brother and the king into feeling guilty. It was all an act, in other words.
 
A strange idea crossed Applejack. She wondered what that passage would sound like in her voice. She forced herself to chuckle in attempt downplay the insecurity that pounded behind her eyes as long as she kept staring at the script. Despite how she consciously reviewed her list of excuses, she couldn’t help but read the text in front of her in a mental voice fitting for something this fancy.
 
Insecurity. While Applejack was sitting at the dinner table that evening, she realized that was exactly what was going on. The thought that such a girlish feeling resided in her made her insides blush. The sound of her family munching on their oats was just a dull hum in her ears. As she stared down at her own bowl, it contents just barely nibbled upon, the excuses came laughing to her rescue. She couldn’t let herself feel ashamed of what was so obvious in front of her. It was heaps better than lying to herself. Regardless, she only let herself envision snippets of the Spirit’s dialogue in the crinkles in her oatmeal. Something about an introduction, and something else about Fate.
 
When she went up to her room, she found the script and flyer lying on the bed where she left them. She crawled into her sheets and let her legs sprawl out in ease. Instead of reaching for her lamp switch, her hoof was drawn toward the papers.
 
A growl gurgled out of her. This whole thing was making her tired. So she leaned in and swiped up the script. A different kind of laughter filled her thoughts now. She was there in her bed, tired; but she hadn’t done squat that day. She opened the pages and resumed her place in Shakespony’s dream island. Her eyes revisited the familiar passage, beginning with the Spirit’s pledge of service. Once again, the words echoed in her imagination, and she imagined them coming out her own lips. But as she came towards the end, she realized that her list of mental excuses was ridiculous. Now her insecurities were really making her insides blush.
 
She was too proud to let that be, of course. Her eyes darted all over her room, all a cloak of shadows save for her little lamp-lit corner.  Her only audience, as far as she knew, was a single cricket screeching outside her window. Applejack breathed deeply and let her eyes rest on the text. The words sprung back into her imagination, but then they began to flow from her lips.
 

 

&&

 

 
She shut her mouth and pulled her thoughts back down to earth. All the while, she kept a blank expression on her face while she waited for the pony beneath the stage to pass her judgment.
 
The unicorn leaned forward on her little table, hooves folded pensively under her chin while a floating pen scrawled down notes on a nearby clipboard. Finally, the glow on her horn vanished, and she straightened herself to say, “Very good, Applejack.”
 
Applejack smiled cautiously. “Thanks. So…if I make it, you’ll send me a letter, is that right?”
 
“Yes, of course.”
 
“Alrighty!” Applejack descended the steps into the aisle. “Thanks for lettin’ me try.”
 
“Thank you for trying out,” the unicorn replied.
 
The sun nearly blinded her when she finally stepped out of that dimly lit theater. She breathed in satisfaction as the afternoon rays warmed her. For a moment, it felt like she was back in the real world. She trotted forward a few steps, but then her head jerked over her shoulder. The Ponyville Theater was a fine-looking building; probably one of the most interesting-looking ones in town. She stood in the midst of a wide flight of stairs that led to a porch held by concrete columns carved to look like something out of some far-off land. The building looked wide at this angle, but she knew that it stretched back even further. And the artifice that was worked into the columns was worked even moreso into the walls, painted to look like marble and fitted with ledges that seemed to come right out of antiquity. She never got to come down here often. It really wasn’t a big deal to her, but still she couldn’t deny herself a last look. Who knew when she would have a chance to do it again?
 
Just live for today, Applejack. It was yet another on-the-spot platitude that Applejack was trying to drill into her mind and hopefully into her hooves as well. She glued her eyes to stairs as she swung her hooves one in front of the other. Live for today, and actually do your job. Her hooves clopping against the steps were a reassuring sound. It was a steady, methodical, dutiful rhythm.
 
The rhythm was thrown into discord, however, when she heard another set of hooves coming from a distance. She raised her head and nearly leaped out of her horseshoes when she saw Rarity suddenly up in her face.
 
“So, how did it go?” she queried in a sing-song voice.
 
Applejack quickly snapped her jaw shut and gulped down her initial surprise. “Me? I did okay, I think.” It was strange of Rarity to just pop out of nowhere like she were Pinkie Pie. Applejack had as much incentive to laugh as she did to get irritated. Rarity had given her plenty of reasons to be irritated these past several days.
 
Rarity sighed. “Oh, don’t be so modest, Applejack. You always do your best, and you were no doubt fantastic.”
 
“Well.” Applejack took another quick look over her shoulder and swung back with a cynical look on her face. “Ya dragged me this far, so I guess I ain’t got no reason to doubt you.”
 
The unicorn’s eyes widened, and her hoof partway-rose to her chest. But her expression flashed into sympathy in another instant. “Applejack, you don’t really think that a delicate pony such as myself is somehow making you do this?”
 
“I’m sorry, but you seem awful eager for me to be in this play.”
 
“I already told you—I just put it out there as a suggestion.”
 
Applejack wanted to kick herself for thinking that any good would come out of beating a dead horse. She had been a busy pony those past few weeks, between working on the farm and occasionally practicing her lines. The few times she had gotten to see Rarity were the times she confronted her with the biggest confusion on her mind—why the heck she sneaked a script into Applejack’s hooves. Rarity never answered in any satisfying measure. I didn’t think you’d give it a chance if I were there waiting for an answer. Oh, I think you’d be quite good at it. It was just an idle suggestion. Of course, Rarity would then go on to ask if she was going to try out, and what she thought of the play. Applejack never replied with anything more than a, “maybe”, or an “okay.” There was very little that was said out in the open. But Applejack had to admit that it was her doing as much as Rarity’s. She wasn’t going to have any harsh words with her best friend over something so trivial, so she made sure that her smile always matched Rarity’s and that she never pressed her any harder than a question or two.
 
But then Applejack realized. She had already tried out, just as Rarity had suggested. If she had something to hide, she had no reason to keep it hidden now. So instead of smiling and changing the subject, Applejack looked Rarity right in the eyes.
 
“Ya know, you comin’ all the way up here like this when I never even told you I was gonna try out seems kinda fishy.”
 
“Well…” Rarity looked down awkwardly, and a nervous laugh popped out of her. “I guess I was hoping you’d be here.”
 
“Why? Ain’t this my business? Like I said: why d’you care so much?”
 
“Well, you weren’t exactly telling me if you were actually going to do it.”
 
Applejack didn’t respond immediately. Rarity’s eyes looked offended, and Applejack once again wanted to kick herself. She should have noticed them long ago, she realized. Her insides were blushing all over again. It wasn’t all that long ago that she was telling her sister the importance of sincerity. It was just yesterday that she was fussing in her mind over sincerity in her recitations. Applejack forgot her irritation now. She could only think to do one thing now.
 
“I’m sorry,” said Applejack. “I haven’t been my nicest to ya these days. The thing is…I guess I do wanna try. It’s just that I really don’t know why I should. I mean, it’s kinda a waste of time.”
 
When that smile—a sincere smile—curled onto Rarity’s lips, Applejack could feel her heart lighten. “It’s fine, it’s fine, really!” The unicorn giggled daintily into her hoof, as if to consecrate a rekindled goodwill. “I think I might’ve been a little unclear myself.” She sighed. “I know what I did was a little strange, but you’re just so stubborn. I didn’t think you’d like me expressing so much concern?”
 
“Could ya explain, so I don’t need to be all irritated no more?”
 
“You just seem so caught up in your little apple-bucking existence. Like there’s nothing else for you besides. It’s just so depressing, especially when I think back on how you used to be.”
 
“Like when I was a little girl?”
 
“Yes. So full of dreams and hopes that you could, somehow, wind up at the top of world and be seen and known on the biggest stages in Equestria….” Rarity trailed off for a moment, a dreamy look taking her out of her words. Then she blinked and went on. “I don’t think anypony ever gives up dreaming. I know I haven’t. And we all know that’s the only reason Rainbow Dash doesn’t just sleep all day. When you were helping your sister with her school play, I figured, perhaps, you might be interested in maybe seeing if you…well, still had it in you. I swear I wasn’t trying to pressure you; I was just…worried that you might not be…that some part of you was empty.”
 
Applejack’s eyes were low and searching right then. “That’s…sweet of you to be worried an’ all.” She was trying not to let her emotions show. Rarity was being presumptuous again. She raised her gaze once more. “But I’m just fine the way I am. Look…hoping over stuff like that ain’t for everypony. I’m set where I am right now, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I mean it!”
 
Rarity looked at her skeptically. “Are you sure? You’re not letting anypony down if you feel even a little unsatisfied.”
 
“Well…it ain’t always satisfyin’. But it ain’t about what I feel, in the end. I’m proud of gettin’ my family this far. More than anythin’ else, I savor a job well done.”
 
When Rarity’s face refused to soften, Applejack breathed and prepared another reply.
 
“You remember me tellin’ y’all how I lived in Manehattan for a lil’ while when I was little?”
 
“Of course.”
 
“I was sure that was where I’d find my destiny. My uncle Orange was a big Broadway producer. I begged Granny to let me stay there so I could learn how to act and maybe be one for real.” Applejack sighed. “They taught me how to act, all right. They had me walkin’ and talkin’ like a princess 24/7. My uncle told me that an actress always had to appear all good and proper. It was a lifestyle, if you were really serious ‘bout it. It was a lot of fun at first, but it wasn’t too long ‘fore I realized I couldn’t just act the way they told me to forever. It just didn’t feel right. I missed being a real pony. And, that was when I got my cutie mark and ran back home, as you know.”
 
“Applejack.” Rarity suddenly put a hoof on her shoulder. “You’re all grown up. You’re certainly more complicated than your cutie mark. Your dreams are your own to forge, darling. Nothing needs to go however your uncle or anypony else tells you it will.”
 
Applejack almost rolled her eyes. Instead, however, she walked right past Rarity. “I also got a brain, in case ya forgot.”
 
She heard an offended gasp out of her friend as she approached the bottom of the stairs. Applejack didn’t stop walking. She didn’t feel in a right mind to be humoring Rarity anymore.
 
“Well!” Rarity cried back, sounding uncertain. “As long as we can agree that I didn’t make you do anything! You’re the responsible one, after all!”
 
“Yup!”
 

 

&&

 

 
Applejack found herself staring at a familiar landscape, rocking on a familiar chair feeling familiar sensations. She was imagining all the things she did that day and the more things she had yet to do. It was, as always, a heavy to-do list.
 
She saw her big brother trotting up to the house with a letter in his mouth. As he climbed the front porch, Applejack couldn’t help remark, “Somepony sent ya somethin’, Big Mac?”
 
The big red pony spat that envelope right between her hooves. “Nope.”
 
Applejack swiped up the letter and held up in front of her gaping eyes. It was specifically addressed to her in a print she couldn’t recognize. “It couldn’t be….” She tore open the envelope and unfurled the letter inside. Her eyes likewise tore through each and every word.
 
She had done it.
 
“What’s that?”
 
Applejack jerked her neck sideways. Her brother was standing just a little off beside her, a curious gleam in his largely stony demeanor. Applejack couldn’t think of a better response than just a shake of her head. But then the big guy walked up right next to her, looking down at her in a way that said that he wasn’t satisfied with that answer.
 
Applejack turned her sights back to the letter that now lay crumpled between her hooves. “Well, laugh if ya wanna: I tried out fer a play some time back. Just to see how far I’d make it. And now, this letter’s tellin’ me I got the part.”
 
“Congrats.”
 
Applejack smiled. Her brother was polite to a fault. “Yeah, well, a darn shame they ain’t gettin’ me.”
 
“How come?”
 
“Look at these practice times. I mean…how would I make time for rehearsals and line practicin’ when I got so much t’do ‘round here?”
 
“Don’t look like ya gotta be there every day.”
 
“But I gotta be here every day. Feedin’ the pigs, checking on the trees, we’re gonna have to start plowin’ soon. And there’s still that corn-flippin’ fence.”
 
“Worried ‘bout plowin’? You just forget ‘bout that, lil’ sis.”
 
Applejack snapped at her brother with challenging glare. “And why should I?”
 
His response belied his stony expression. “’Cause we both know y’all only pull that plow to give me less to do.”
 
Applejack’s felt her features soften. Before she could retort, however, Big Mac kept talking. “I wouldn’t mind you goin’ off a few times a week. Granny wouldn’t neither. Shouldn’t have to be all or nothin’ when we got a big family like ours.”
 
She looked at her brother with mild skepticism. “You sure ‘bout that? Don’t be underestimatin’ yer workload, Big Macintosh.”
 
“I’m good. You work hard enough as it is.”
 
Applejack’s eyes lowered.
 
“Besides,” he went on, “it’s not often anypony ‘round here gets to do something they really wanna do. You still wanna do it?”
 
“I…don’t really know, to be honest with ya.”
 
“Well, nopony’s holdin’ ya back if ya wanna do it.”
 
Applejack looked back up at her brother. She realized that her list of excuses was growing lighter as he spoke. In fact, there was only one thing left that was keeping her in place. And of course, in her pride, she wasn’t going to let that one thing keep her down.
 
“I don’t know if it’s what I want…so, I guess I’m gonna have to go see if it is.”
 

&&

 

Applejack spent a long time looking at herself. She wasn’t one of those ponies who liked to fuss over themselves. Genuine fascination was keeping her glued to the mirror. She had been to every dress rehearsal, but she still couldn’t get over this otherworldly appearance the play had given her.
 
She fiddled with the little pink flower that was sticking out of her mane, unbraided and drawn down around her. It was as earthy as her costume would allow. From shoulders to flank, a nearly transparent white gown adorned her. And tied over her strong back were a pair of glitter-sprinkled fairy wings. With all of that, as well as the heavy dose of powdery makeup, she couldn’t deny that she was looking particularly Spirit-ed.
 
She let herself laugh at that one. Laughter was definitely a good thing in stressful situations like this.
 
“We’re on in five, everypony! Hop to it!” she heard somepony yelling.
 
Applejack pulled herself into focus. Her big night. Months of practice and exploration, all so she could be this particular pony for everypony else. She walked up towards the curtain where all of that night’s actors had assembled.
 
“You ready, Applejack?”
 
She smiled back at her fellow performer. A tall, regal, white-haired unicorn—he was ideal as the duke magician. “You know I can always break a leg or two!”
 
He and the other mare beside him laughed in glee. The mare—the magician’s daughter—replied, “Oh, knowing you, that won’t be a problem.”
 
The somepony she had heard yelling before finally came trotting up to their little assembly. “Great! So we’re all here? Great! Now everypony take their places! I don’t need to tell you again, do I?”
 
Applejack certainly didn’t need any repetition. As the sounds from audience died down, the players in the shipwreck scene began to line up near the curtain’s edge. On cue, the lights on the stage went dark, and thunder rolled ominously. The actors ran onstage under cover of darkness while Applejack, the magician, and the daughter replaced them at the edge. Now she could watch the beginning of the play from the closest possible angle.
 
A strong burst of wind came at her, making her mane sway in a way she wasn’t used to. At that point, the stage lights returned, although noticeably dim for the opening scene. Now Applejack could see the gigantic fan blowing full-force at the other end of the stage. Applejack was truly impressed by how the scene was set up. She especially liked how they used random flashes of blue light from above to simulate lightning.
 
A pony donned in a captain’s hat was pacing uneasily around the stage. “Boatswain!” he roared over the storm-sounds.
 
Another pony dressed in sailor’s attire galloped up to him. “Here, master. What cheer?”
 
“Good, speak to th’ mariners. Fall to ‘t yarely, or we run ourselves aground. Bestir, bestir!”
 
The captain dashed offstage past Applejack. Meanwhile, the four mariners flew onstage from the opposite side and took various positions on the mock-ship that was set up.
 
“Neigh, my hearties!” cried the Boatswain, casting desperate looks at all of them. “Cheerly, cheerly, my hearties! Yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to th’ Master’s whistle.” The blue light flashed and the pound of a drum beneath the stage signaled a thunder peal. He turned towards the ceiling with a raised hoof. “Blow till thou burst thy wind, if room enough!” he yelled at the accursed tempest.
 
Applejack moved aside to let the scene’s remaining actors—the king and his attendants—take the stage. This scene was one of the play’s shortest. It wouldn’t be long until she had to step onstage herself. She was set to appear in the middle of the next scene.
 
In the context of the plot, it was Applejack that was causing the storm to blow. Sure, it was the magician that planned it, but it was the Spirit’s powers that allowed it to happen. She sure was busy that night, Applejack joked in her thoughts. She was surprised that they let her be the Spirit. Normally, you don’t get placed into the role you actually try out for. They must have thought she made a pretty convincing storm-stirrer.
 
“All lost! To prayers, to prayers! All lost!”
 
At this point, the mariners leaped down from their posts and ran offstage, screaming in desperation. The remaining characters were saying their final lines, bemoaning the watery end that seemed to be inevitable. Suddenly, the blue light flashed one last time, and the stage went dark. The drum resounded and echoed ominously into a now windless auditorium.
 
Applejack heard the stage crew shuffling out of the curtains, pulling the ship pieces backstage. There was only about ten seconds of darkness between scenes. She looked beside her at the two ponies about to take stage next. She hoped they could see her confident grin. “Y’all break a leg, all right?”
 
The unicorn grinned back. “Of course!” The mare just nodded her head and said, “Thanks!”
 
When the lights returned, the two actors adjusted their postures and strode into the next scene. Applejack watched them attentively. After all, her cue would be in the magician’s dialogue.
 
It occurred to her that everything she practiced up until now was about to be put to the test. She was about to see if this was a good idea. Her back arched up in a violent twitch, and Applejack jerked her head back in surprise.
 
“Get it together, girl,” she muttered. “I can do this in my sleep.”
 
Applejack never had issues with stage fright. She had tons of smooth experiences in front of crowds. She had performed in front of hundreds at all those rodeos. Not to mention the Hearth’s Warming pageant in Canterlot. But her role in this play was an unusual circumstance. All those other times were Applejack feeling natural. Now, she was expecting something extra. Something about herself was going to be revealed by the end of the play. It made her imagination tingle with nervous anticipation.
 
The magician laid an affectionate hoof over his daughter as she curled up on the ground to sleep. Then he, at last, turned toward where Applejack was waiting. “Come away, servant, come. I am ready now. Approach, my Spirit. Come.”
 
Applejack forced her concerns aside and began her entrance. She walked forward slowly and softly. For a moment, her eyes winced. The lights overhead were especially bright in comparison with the dim backstage. There were no shadows cast beneath the lights. It looked like something out of a dream.
 
“Woo! Go Applejack!”
 
Applejack’s eye flashed to the audience for a moment where she caught a distant pink blur fall back into the crowd. Applejack could feel herself blushing beneath her makeup. Regardless, she couldn’t have had better friends. Even Pinkie Pie.
 
“All hail, great master!” Applejack intoned.  “Grave sir, hail! I come to answer thy best pleasure. Be ‘t to fly, to swim, to dive into the fire, to ride on the curled clouds, to thy strong bidding task I and all mine quality.”
 
“Hast thou, Spirit, performed to point the tempest I bade thee?”
 
“To every article.” And Applejack began gesturing dramatically. “I boarded the King’s ship; now on the beak, now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin I flamed amazement. Sometimes I’d divide and burn in many places. On the topmast, the yards, and bowsprit would I flame distinctly, then meet and join. Jove’s lightning, the precursors o’ th’ dreadful thunderclaps, more momentary and sight-outrunning were not. The fire and cracks of sulfurous roaring the most mighty Neptune seem to besiege and make his bold waves tremble, yea, his dread trident shake.”
 
“My brave Spirit! Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil would not infect his reason?”
 
“Not a soul but felt a fever of the mad, and played some tricks of desperation. All but mariners plunged into the foaming brine and quit the vessel, then all afire with me. The King’s son, with mane up-staring—then like reeds, not hair—was the first one that leaped; cried ‘Tartarus is empty, and all the devils are here!’”
 
“Why, that’s my Spirit!”
 
Applejack kept a straight face throughout, but she couldn’t help smiling on the inside. She really was doing everything she was supposed to be doing. No screw-ups so far. The scene went on with the magician asking the Spirit more questions about the shipwreck and the passengers on board. The Spirit answered likewise with an impressive combination of grace, confidence, and obedience.
 
Several lengthy verses later, Applejack’s role in this scene came to a close as the magician leaned into her ear and made whispering noises. She nodded slowly at the unicorn’s airy nonsense. This was the magician giving instructions to his Spirit to carry out. She had to follow his commands down to the letter. Only then would he set the Spirit free.
 
For her freedom, she became a musician and a charmer. In one scene, she stood discreetly among the false palm trees. She held a little pan flute to her mouth and swayed her head along with the music coming from backstage. The king’s son walked onto the stage, enamored by the Spirit’s song. Then he saw the magician’s daughter, and the daughter saw him. The seeds of love were sown.
 
She would reap various pieces of truth when she stood invisible (assumed to be invisible, anyway) among the different players who plotted amidst the island’s chaos.
 
“As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant, a sorcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me of the island.”
 
The sorcerer’s monster-slave spoke with a gruffness that was as ugly as his costume. The pony was wearing some kind of heavy fur-suit or something like that, ruffled and messed for extra monstrosity. He even had a pair of horns and a set of faux-fangs that made great use of his fiendish scowl. He looked ready to devour the two ragged-looking ponies in front of him. The Spirit, invisible again, walked up behind him.
 
“Thou liest.”
 
The monster turned toward the court jester, hoof pointing angrily. “Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou. I would my valiant master would destroy thee. I do not lie.”
 
His valiant master, the king’s butler—or, according to the monster’s primitive mind, the mare in the moon—promptly slapped the jester. “If you trouble him anymore in his tale, by this hoof, I will supplant some of your teeth!”
 
“Why, I said nothing!”
 
Applejack grinned as laughs rumbled in the audience. The Spirit was the one who had actually said, “Thou liest.” She had just imitated the jester’s voice so that his companions would snap at him. The Spirit had something of a sense of humor.
 
When that was all done, the monster and his new master returned to their plotting. “Within this half hour he will be asleep,” the monster grumbled. “Wilt thou destroy him then?”
 
The butler nodded. “Ay, on mine honor.”
 
The Spirit walked past them, completely unnoticed, and looked at the audience. “This will I tell my master.”
 
Applejack hurried into her harpy outfit. This would be her most important part in the play. She slipped off the fairy wings and exchanged them for a huge pair of bird wings. She hoped into a suit of faux gray feathers and even donned a beak. Red war paint was added to her face for extra intimidation.  
 
She took her place directly behind the curtain, keeping her ear perked for her cue. Right now, the king and his company should have been sitting at the feasting table laid out so conveniently for them. She followed the lines as they were uttered, every one increasing her anticipation. Then at last the thunder rolled, and she tore onto the stage from under the curtain and slammed her hooves down upon the table, at which point trap doors made the plates disappear like magic.
 
“You are three creatures of sin,” she yelled in the most unbelievably menacing tone anypony had ever heard her speak with in public, “whom Destiny hath caused to belch up you, and on this island, where ponies doth not inhabit, you ‘mongst ponies being most unfit to live.”
 
The ponies leaped to attention, glaring at her with convincing ferocity. But the Spirit railed on, roaring condemning words to the king, the magician’s brother, and all his subjects for usurping the magician from his dukedom. It was the same passage that Applejack had tried out with, and she tried her best not to think about how ridiculous she sounded, all scary and all. “Ministers of Fate,” this and “worse than any death,” that. She let her mind take her into the role, and let her lips subsequently take over.
 
Finally, the lights flashed dark and thunder rolled again. She fled back behind the curtains under the momentary darkness. She exhaled her longest breath yet when that was done. Now she had sown debilitating fear and guilt among her master’s enemies. They were now trapped and ready for the final scene.
 
The Spirit walked onstage with the king’s party following close behind, all their heads hanging low in despair while her head was held high. She led the captives into a painted circle where the magician stood behind with his staff hovering imperiously overhead. He slammed the staff dramatically to the floor, and the ponies in the circle suddenly straightened, looking around themselves as if they were woken from sleep.
 
“Behold, sir king, the wronged duke!” the magician intoned, gesturing his hoof over his own body. “For more assurance that a living prince does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body.”
 
He hugged the king, and the king promptly edged back afterwards. “Whe’er thou be’st he or no, or some enchanted trifle to abuse me (as late I have been) I know not,” he breathed in awe. “Thy pulse beats as of flesh and blood; and since I saw thee, the affliction of my mind amends, with which I fear a madness held me.” He bowed his head in shame. “Thy dukedom I resign, and do entreat thou pardon me my wrongs.”
 
Applejack watched the rest of the proceedings with fading tension. The magician forgave the king and his traitorous brother and proceeded to reveal that the king’s son was still alive, only now he had found love with the magician’s daughter, which delighted everypony.
 
The Spirit brought out even more delights. She came out next with all of the sailors from the very first scene. Nopony thought that they survived the tempest, but it was revealed that the Spirit had moved their ship to safety and put all of the sailors into a slumber until this very moment.
 
“These are not natural events,” mused the king. “They strengthen from strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither?”
 
The boatswain shrugged. “If I did think, sire, I were well awake, I’d strive to tell you. We were awaked, straightway at liberty, where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld our royal, good, and gallant ship, our master rushing to eye her. On a trice, so please you, even in a dream were we divided from them and were brought moping hither.”
 
The Spirit sneaked up to the magician’s side, grinning. “Was it well done?”
 
“Bravely, my diligence,” he spoke with a satisfied look. “Thou shalt be free.”
 
Those were her final lines, and Applejack’s heart leaped with victory.
 
Finally, she led out the final group—or rather, forced them out since she was whipping the monster and the two ponies who had conspired to murder the magician. The magician and the king promptly scolded the fools and ordered them offstage to gather his things for the journey home.
 
“I long to hear the story of your life, which must take the ear strangely,” said the king.
 
The magician waved his hoof in welcome. “I’ll deliver all, and promise you calm seas, auspicious gales, and sail so expeditious that shall catch your royal fleet far off.” Then he glanced at the Spirit beside him. “My Spirit, chick, that is thy charge. Then to the elements be free, and fare thou well.”
 
It was over at long last. She and the most of the other ponies subsequently exited the stage. The only one who remained was the magician, who would deliver a brief closing monologue to the audience. Applejack and her fellow actors waited patiently for the audience to give their applause. As the cheering began, they all flowed back onstage and lined up around him. Applejack took her place between the king and the magician’s daughter and looked ahead of her. All the ponies in the theater were stomping their hooves with glee. Her heart was all aflutter.  
 
Her eyes drifted towards the corner where her friends were leaping up and down. She could clearly hear Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie shouting her name while Twilight, Rarity, and Fluttershy were beaming and pounding with excitement. Then her eyes swung towards the front rows, where Granny, Big Mac, and Apple Bloom were hootin’ and hollering as much as they always did.
 
Right at that moment, she didn’t care how stupid her grin must have looked, or even how she did in the play as a whole. This moment felt perfect.
 
 

&&

 

 
Applejack had just walked out of the restroom—to get rid of all that makeup, of course—when she heard somepony galloping down the hall.
 
“Oh, Applejack, that was a simply marvelous performance!”
 
Applejack was actually looking forward to Rarity’s inevitable enthusiasm. The unicorn eagerly skid to a stop, grinning excitedly. As much as she wondered where the rest of her friends were, she was happily obliged to give Rarity her company.
 
“I’m glad y’all liked it so much,” she said. “I know I didn’t steal the show, but, yeah, I’m actually pretty proud of myself.”
 
“And you should,” Rarity said pointedly. “Goodness, all of those lines! And you didn’t hesitate once! And you just looked divine in that dress and with your mane let down like that.” She took the end of her braid in her hoof, looking at it disappointedly. “You should wear it like that more often. That’s hair to be flaunted.”
 
Applejack yanked her braid out her friend’s hoof. Rarity grinned sheepishly while Applejack gave her a warning look.
 
Then she broke out into another grin. “I had a lot of fun, Rarity.” She looked down, embarrassed. “I guess you were right ‘bout me bein’ good at this.”
 
Rarity leaped. “I knew you had it in you! You’re a natural! Oh, I can see it now.” She wrapped a foreleg around her neck and began making grand gestures with the other. “You’d light up Broadway! Producers would be begging you for their lead roles. And the Pony award for Best Performance goes to….”
 
Rarity gave a muffled squeak when Applejack’s hoof flew over her lips.
 
 “Whoa there, cowgirl!” she said. “Let’s not get any funny ideas.”
 
“But, Applejack,” she whined as Applejack removed her hoof, “you just admitted that this was something you’re good at. Don’t you want to get better?”
 
“Well, I don’t know how much better I’ll get. I don’t plan on doin’ this every day. Then it wouldn’t be fun no more!”
 
Rarity’s jaw dropped, “But—that’s—then what’s the—,”
 
“Hah! Me! On Broadway.” She laughed. “Hoo-boy! Somepony kick me if I ever get an idea like that!”
 
Rarity just hung her head. “You never cease to amaze me, Applejack.”
 
“Actually, Rar’, I think ya need to give yerself more credit.”
 
“Hmm?”
 
“Months ago, I would never have given this a chance, even if I did wanna do it. I wasn’t happy wit’ what was I was doin’ at home, but I kept forcin’ myself to be there, even though I just couldn’t do nothin’ for a while. But then y’all came along and supported me, and helped me embrace a part of me I thought I was too old for. And when it all came together like it did tonight, hoo, I haven’t felt accomplishment like this in months.
 
“I know I was hard on ya before, but…I’m real thankful now.”
 
Rarity’s eyes were glimmering with emotion. “Oh Applejack!” She promptly grabbed Applejack into a hug. “You are very welcome.”
 
Applejack chuckled and returned her embrace. Even in her forcefulness, Rarity was as generous a pony as she had ever met.
 

 

&&

 

 
Her hammer strokes flew like woodpeckers, focused and relentless. Nails were driven, and as soon as she was done with one, she moved on to the next.
 
The fence was coming along quite nicely. Applejack had finally gotten herself into gear with this whole project. She was certain she would be done by the end of the week.
 
“Applejack?”
 
She spun around and saw her sister and her friends looking up at her. She spat out her hammer. “What’s up, girls?”
 
“Well,” Apple Bloom started, “we’ve kinda hit a wall, so to speak.”
 
Sweetie Belle spoke next. “We don’t know what to do to try get our cutie marks.”
 
Applejack felt like rolling her eyes. If these kids were so desperate for something to do, she might as well have told them to fix the fence for her. But she smiled. A better idea had sprung into her thoughts. “I think I know just the thing.”
 
Applejack led the girls across the farm and tossed open the dusty old doors of the shed. Her eyes flew to a shelf in the corner where, thankfully, the object she was looking for was still sitting.
 
She walked back outside with it balanced on her back. Suddenly, she arched her back skyward, and the object landed right at the fillies’ hooves.
 
“What is it?” asked Scootaloo.
 
“That’s a hoof-ball,” answered Applejack. “I hear it’s a pretty big sport, and it’s mighty enjoyable wit’ friends.”
 
Apple Bloom gave the ball a tentative poke. “Ya think this’ll get us our cutie marks?”
 
Applejack shrugged. “Maybe. Who knows? Wouldn’t be bad if ya did, though. It’d be better than a fence-buildin’ cutie mark.”
 
Apple Bloom dug her muzzle beneath the ball and suddenly tossed it up. By the time she looked up, it bounced off her forehead and landed on Scootaloo’s muzzle. The little pegasus leaped, but then froze when she noticed that she was balancing the ball perfectly on her nose.
 
“Wow, that’s really neat, Scootaloo!” Sweetie Belle exclaimed. “Let me try!”
 
Scootaloo leaned in a little bit, then quickly launched the ball off her nose. Sweetie Belle got in front of the ball, but the ball immediately bounced off her face. “Ow!” she squeaked.
 
The ball subsequently flew over Apple Bloom, but Apple Bloom quickly bumped her hindquarters into the air and made it land comfortable on her back. She twisted her head around and eyed the ball in interest. “Ya know, this is pretty cool.” She looked at her friends again. “Whaddaya say? Cutie Mark Crusader Hoof-Ballers?”
 
“Cutie Mark Crusader Hoof-Ballers!” the two fillies echoed excitedly.
 
The girls quickly spun away from Applejack, hooves poised to gallop someplace else. “Thanks, AJ!” said Apple Bloom just before she turned her head forward and started running along with her friends.
 
“Good luck, y’all!” cried Applejack as she watched the girls run off to play with that ball.
 
She breathed a sigh of relief when they were finally out of sight. That would keep them occupied for a while. Applejack didn’t have the energy to play with those little ones herself. Or crusade, as they imagined themselves to be doing. Crusading, playing, it wasn’t like one was more important than the other. As far as Applejack was concerned, there was no shame in a little playtime every once in a while.