The dinner table was usually set for five.
With the Acres, it was just about automatic. The Apples had always had friends, you never knew when a relative might be passing by and over the last few years, the extra place had mostly represented Rainbow's well-honed ability to stretch out her income through mooching eighty percent of her meals, which incidentally allowed her to also avoid dealing with the horror which was her own kitchen: Applejack had gotten one look at the thing after Twilight's cloudwalking spell had put the seasonal poker game in that house, and had missed the next three rounds due to gagging. (The pegasus had mandatory cooking classes coming in a week, and it would be Pinkie's responsibility to bring the biohazard team visits down by thirty percent.) You made extra food because somepony might come by and if they didn't -- well, Mac was a big pony, Applejack needed extra fuel for the longest work sessions, and Apple Bloom was just entering puberty: leftovers were seldom a problem.
So typically, there would be five places prepared, and it could easily be more. During the runup to cider season, the old wood table might see double digits just from the number of friends who were absolutely not dropping by to see how the process was coming along while hoping to get some early samples, which pretty much proved why none of them were bearing Honesty.
But on four nights of every year, the same four nights every year, ones which always passed without guests... the table would be set for six. And two benches would remain empty.
It wasn't one of those nights, although the calendar had such a date steadily marching towards them. (At the very least, it didn't happen during that.) Instead, the rest of the family had come into the sitting room, they'd all been so happy to see her with the hat again and that joy had meant nopony had actually mentioned it. Instead, it had been Granny gruffly stating that the dumplings were getting cold, and everypony knew cold dumplings were something very close to a sin. They'd trotted with her into the dining area (with Apple Bloom just about cantering around her big sister's legs), the food had been distributed, they'd all strained their ears to listen for the last-second sound of somepony landing (or, if the weather coordinator had decided Moon was the perfect audience for trying something new, crashing), and then it was time for dinner.
Applejack's bench had been established for years: it was the one in front of the chew marks in the wood. Very young ponies were known to chew wood, which some books claimed was nature's way of letting the parents know that their foal wasn't getting enough fiber. Nopony had written down the story of how everypony else had come in from work to find the then-youngest out of her crib and getting a personal snack, but it had been told enough times to effectively emboss itself into the air.
Mah bench, next t' my place...
She was starting to become aware of just how closely she was looking at everything. At just how much she'd been reviewing her life on the Acres. Everything she saw led to a memory, and every recollection was another claim. As if she was trying to put everything in order, just before she --
-- mah land.
Home cooking always tasted better after a time away. The unicorn -- the stallion -- Quiet's castle -- had served some pretty good food, but none of it had been made by her Granny.
They ate. And they talked. They were, in Applejack's estimation, talking more than usual -- and the dinner table was where reviews of the day usually took place, so it took a lot to create a noticeable increase. It was possible that they simply wanted to hear her voice again.
"-- an' Ah'll go in t'morrow," Apple Bloom carefully said. "Since there's still a little time before school. Ah know that means Ah'm missin' mah chores, but Big Mac said it was okay an' y'weren't here --"
"-- it's fine, Apple Bloom," Applejack smiled. "Ah'm not gonna argue, 'cause Ah think it's jus' fine too. You jus' be at Ratchette's shop when she's expectin' you. On time, or a little earlier than that. Make a good impression." Because there were still a lot of bad ones to overcome, and that was just with the mechanic.
But she took AB on. She apprenticed her.
Things had happened while Applejack had been away, and one of them had given Apple Bloom what might have been her first real chance to free her mark. But there had been a price to pay for that, one which might see the installments dolled out in drag-hoofed steps and dimmed orange eyes which too frequently seemed to be looking through the table. In part, Apple Bloom had time to be apprenticed because Mac simply wanted to see his little sister find her place. But some of that time was available because the Crusade itself had broken -- or rather, Apple Bloom had torn herself away, finally realizing that three years of failure, stretched out into the future, had the potential to become a lifetime. And in quitting...
Because of the Crusade, Apple Bloom had possessed exactly two friends: the quest had consumed some of the chances she would have had for making more while driving other ponies away from the ongoing madness. But for her, the Crusade was over. And with nopony else of her own age to reach towards...
Mac had received the first account of the failed stable sale, and passed it along. Scootaloo wasn't talking to Apple Bloom, had been furiously streaking through town as a rolling miniature juggernaut of flapping rage. And Sweetie, so often the shyest and most passive of the three, was afraid of losing everything by picking a side and discovering it had been the wrong one.
Apple Bloom had a chance. She also had to deal with a town full of ponies who'd been hurt by the Crusade, had heard false apologies a few too many times, and weren't exactly ready to believe this was the real thing. And until something else changed, she had a family who loved her and a shop owner who was somehow willing to take her on as a student --
-- a hybrid, a pegasus with unicorn essence, an' she doesn't know --
-- but no friends.
It meant her little sister needed some extra attention.
"Now Ah don't want t' embarrass you by droppin' in," Applejack went on. "It's one thing when Ah supervise your work on the Acres, 'cause that's family business. But in her shop, she's in charge. An' Ah ain't bad with the cart and little repairs. But the stuff you're gonna be learnin'? That's you. So Ah won't get in the way when you're there. But..." She'd been thinking about it for a good part of the day. "...you're gonna need a place t' practice outside the shop. An' it ain't like we don't have the space..."
The trailoff had been deliberate, and was designed to let her watch the growing wonder on the youngest's face.
"...so maybe if Mac an' Ah put some of the tools in a barn corner, give you a little workshop of your own t' try things out in?"
The little pony didn't teleport: she couldn't, and her siblings had already told her the reasons for avoiding having it done to her. She simply darted off her bench, rushed around the table, reared up next to Applejack and pressed her snout into orange fur.
The older sister shifted a foreleg, gently rubbed the yellow coat.
She's lonely right now. She needs us. She needs all of us. Ah could stall a little, makin' sure we're all t'gether on this...
No. Longer Ah wait, worse it's gonna be.
Ah love you, Apple Bloom. But this has t' be tonight --
-- how's she gonna take it?
Because the youngest Apple had a voice, and wasn't always shy about using it. How would Apple Bloom see things?
It was that thought which made the contact stretch out, the orange foreleg pressing tightly. But she had to let go, and her little sister returned to the other bench. Four Apples around one table, the way it had been for years. Something which seemed as if it should have gone on for years to come. Her brother, sister, and Granny. They loved her, and they would continue to love her until she --
Tell them. Ah have t' tell them...
She looked at them all in turn. Memorizing each detail. The crinkles in Granny's snout. Crumbs from a demolished dumpling. Chew marks in the wood.
Tell them the truth.
But not all at once. Jus' -- lead into it.
"So Ah talked t' Twi today. Jus' before Ah packed up." A small snort. "An' sorry, everypony. It was a slow sales day, an' Ah pushed too hard tryin' t' get the last bits. Ah was jus' 'bout the last one out. Nearly went full Gala there."
"How is she?" Mac carefully inquired. "Any better?" He didn't know what had happened during the mission. He was fully aware that Luna had been to see all of the other Bearers in their dreams, telling them to keep a close eye on the tree, because the sound of Applejack scrambling for the ramp had woken him up and she'd had to tell him where she was going.
"Gettin' there," Applejack answered. "Ah think the worst of it is over. Still gonna need some extra time with her, though." Mac nodded.
Because Ah broke the Secret. Because alicorns have earth pony magic. Because somepony's gotta train her, an' Ah'm the only one who could: that's what some of the extra time is gonna be for. Somewhere, sometime, you've gotta hear that. An' this ain't the night, because... It was if her very soul had taken a deep breath. ...one nightmare at a time.
"But Ah went an' did it, long as she was at the cart," Applejack sighed. "It's official, everypony -- an' Apple Bloom, this ain't your fault. We kinda figured it wasn't gonna be a farming mark for a while now. It's jus' that -- knowin' you were gonna be in the shop a lot from now on, an' hopin', really hopin' this was gonna be it for you --"
Ah touched you with that 'snitcher' device. Ah know your magic is on the rise. But how do Ah tell you 'bout that, when it could lead t' everything else?
"-- Ah asked Twi t' go into the library exchange program, get us the agronomy books." Pointedly ignored the little gasp from the youngest. "We're goin' science, everypony." More hastily, "Not all at once. We've got fall an' winter t' study up, an' it won't happen in one spring. But we're gonna need it eventually an' t' keep it from bein' too much at once, 'eventually' starts next year."
Given her age and occasionally-dubious lung capacity, Granny Smith had a rather loud snort.
"Science," the eldest declared, somehow managing to give it the same intonation as 'manure'.
"Ain't like we weren't talkin' 'bout it for a while," Applejack protested. "Y'knew we might --"
"-- an' then y'did it," Granny snorted. "Name me one Apple that's using science t' farm. Jus' one --"
"-- Braeburn," Mac cut in. (It wasn't particularly smooth. As verbal cut-ins went, it was mostly like asking somepony to dance by kicking their previous partner across the room.) "He's using irrigation systems, Granny. He had to, with the river water that was available. Even with the Effect, the trees we sent would have died without that. I know y'don't want anything happening to Bloomberg --"
"-- because he's in the desert an' the pegasi ain't shown up yet," the eldest huffed. "He ain't got a choice."
"Lots of earth ponies ain't got a choice in the first years," Applejack quietly said. "It's usually jus' us, when a new settled zone starts. Can't count on the Weather Bureau until the pegasi get there. An' in a desert -- Granny, Ah talked t' Rainbow, got the gossip. Humidity's so low out there, Bureau can barely hold a cloud house t'gether. They're tryin' to work out new techniques, an' that may take a while. Braeburn's gonna be on that irrigation system for a few seasons. Ain't no shame in it. Sometimes magic jus' ain't enough. Sometimes..." and she paced the words, made them a little slower. "...it ain't even necessary. Think about all the people out there past Equestria, the species who don't have the Effect at all. They still farm. We get the imports, for the stuff which nopony can be bothered t' grow, or where the climate's too much trouble. Nothing wrong with the food."
"Tastes different," Granny steadfastly declared. The white tail was lashing.
It did, at least with apples. She had a very finely-honed sense of taste when it came to apples. They tasted...
Sharper. Sweeter.
"We'll work with it," Applejack stated.
"But --"
"-- it's mah decision, Granny." And would have prayed for that to be the end of it, if she'd just had something she could have prayed to. "Mac an' Ah talked it over: y'heard us. Maybe y'thought we wouldn't go through with it. Ah did. We've gotta move forward. Ain't like Mac or Ah are plannin' families jus' yet, an' countin' on Goldie t' raise a big group on the border an' boost us that way..." Golden Harvest had multiple ponies pursuing her, and none of them had proven capable of actually catching up. "We're goin' for it. An' that's final."
Granny took a rather slow breath. It was the sort of inhalation which was very precisely measured, just in case it turned out to be the last.
"So y'say."
"Ah did."
"Then," the eldest declared, "do it right." And looked to the youngest. "Apple Bloom?"
"More studyin'," the filly groaned. "Aw, come on..."
"You'll have all winter," Mac reminded her.
"Winter's for puzzles an' popcorn! Ah'm already gonna have --" which was when it might have truly hit her. "-- work." Wide-eyed, "Ah'm gonna be workin'. In the fix-it shop, all winter..." And now it was more of a mutter. "Mark means workin' in winter. Somepony could've mentioned that."
After some thought, Applejack decided to see it as having just heard her sister admit to the existence of a long-term plan, and saw her brother's smile echoing some portion of that idea. Okay. One down...
"Oh, an' one other thing held me up."
"Oh?" Granny still looked somewhat disgruntled: her tail hadn't quite come to a halt yet. "What's next? We're gonna go off the Bureau schedule an' let the Everfree send in the rain?" But the next part came with a smile. "Could be a little more reliable than your friend..."
They were words Granny would have said in front of Rainbow, and the pegasus would have been offended for exactly two seconds less than the time when that visible offense would have risked missing out on dessert. They poked and prodded each other across the generations, and Granny gave as good as she got.
(She would spend so many hours looking back on that night. Wondering if anything could have changed things. Rainbow's presence might have done something. She would have had an ally...)
"Asked somepony out," Applejack casually stated. "Got a yes." Paused. "Well -- agreed, put it that way. Ain't set the time yet. Ah was thinkin' 'bout having the date in a few days, maybe a week --"
They were staring at her, and the open delight hurt almost as much as their hope.
"Y'asked somepony out?" Apple Bloom excitedly asked. "This time of year? Y'didn't wait? Y'always do winter --"
"-- time was right," Applejack tried.
"'bout time y'switched your schedule," Granny decided with a smile. "Long as he said yes." Paused. "It's a he, right?"
Applejack nodded. Historically, the Apple family didn't have any objection to mare-mare relationships -- well, the last few centuries of history, covering the time of the Most Special Spell: when part of the goal was to get a next generation, a working which allowed two mares to have their own foals (fillies only) had removed the main barrier. But for her own tastes... well, she'd cuddled with mares, and a nice warm cuddle was perfectly fine at the end of a long day. And there had been opportunity beyond that, but -- if it was a choice between mares and stallions, she would take a stallion and if that left a nice-but-disappointed mare, then that was a pony who needed matchmaking. Not that Applejack was any good at that, but since she was the one who'd created the disappointment...
"Anypony we know?" Mac not-so-casually asked. "Because there's been a lot of new ponies moving into town." Paused. "Well, that's been true for a while. But the last moon, after Twilight --" a little more awkwardly "-- y'know... it's been speeding up. So if it's a newcomer, I'd just like to know."
An' find out where he works. An' maybe drop by, get a look at him. An' maybe Ah should take the 'maybe' out, 'cause this is mah dumb big brother an' of course he's gonna scout.
She wished for more time. For an interruption. For her parents.
"He's been around for a while. Couple of years."
"Really?" Apple Bloom asked, and visibly thought it over. "Did he jus' break up with --" and stopped cold, eyes briefly squeezing shut. Apple Bloom didn't want to think about breakups.
"Nah. Jus' available." Please, help... And looked at Mac. "Matter of fact, y'know him."
She could see the herd beginning to march behind his eyes. A herd without a single feather in it. "If he's been around that long? I probably do. So what's his name --"
"-- an' Ah always thought you respected him," she broke in. (She could feel her ear muscles twitching, and realized they were trying to press themselves against her skull.) "Not that the two of you really talk, because -- neither of you is much of a talker. But Ah've seen y'pass each other in the streets. Little nods. Like y'kind of understand each other, at least a little."
The phantom herd abruptly shrunk. Then it vanished.
He was her big brother and in many ways, this automatically made him stupid. But he wasn't that dumb.
"A pony I know," Mac slowly said. "But not one I talk to. Who've been in town for a couple of years. A pony you're not naming." The thick neck moved forward, and the big head overshadowed the nearly-empty plate. "I know you like to give us surprises sometimes. I don't think this is one of them. AJ, what's --"
Get. It. Over. With.
"-- Snowflake."
She'd had her position at the table for her whole life. A place which allowed her to see everypony else. To see what they did.
Granny took a breath and held it. Apple Bloom's entire body went through a single huge twitch, something which put her at the back edge of her bench for a split-second -- and then she rather majestically fell off. And Big Mac said two words.
"Applejack Malus --"
There might have been more. (There would be more.) But that was all she felt like hearing.
"We are goin' out," Applejack shot back. "Ah asked him, he agreed! He wants t' --"
Which was when the heavy red body moved.
He was on his hooves in a second (and she knew he would hurt later: he wasn't meant to move so fast). Reared up, planted forehooves on wood. The stallion making himself look larger in the face of a threat, and he was so big to start with...
"-- Ah don't care what he wants!" It was almost a shout. "Lots of stallions wanted you over the years, unicorns and pegasi both! Ah've had words with a few of 'em! Guess Ah missed one!"
Part of her was noting the strength of his accent: it was always thickest when he was angry. A portion of the rest was wondering just who he'd dissuaded, and was comparing it to a list of abrupt departures. "Ah asked him! Mah decision, Mac! Mine -- "
In a way, she'd seen the next part coming, right down to the sudden drop in decibels. The near-whisper.
"-- take off the hat."
Which was when she reared up. (It still left her so much smaller than he was. She was on the tall side for an earth pony mare, with a muscular build, and her brother overshadowed her.)
"No."
Softly, "That's our Daddy's hat. You say you're going out with a pegasus? Then you don't wear that hat. Maybe you don't even live --"
Her left forehoof slammed down. And when the echoes faded, the chewed wood was gone.
"-- Daddy's dead, Mac. For years. Acres ain't his no more. An' Ah think y'forgot this part: they ain't yours." Fighting to keep her ears rotated forward, the tremble away from her forelegs, and it didn't seem to leave any strength for keeping her lips over her teeth. "They're mine."
She knew the next words couldn't be taken back. She knew it was something they avoided discussing, knew how much it hurt him. But he had used her full name, demanded her hat. Nopony could hurt family like family -- and that went both ways.
She knew where to kick him.
"Remember that now?" It was almost a hiss, and Apple Bloom, who was just starting to get up, pulled back as if a snake had lanced fangs towards her forelegs. "How they revised the will, jus' before? 'cause y'were going t' college, Mac. Never did, but that was the plan. Kept the textbooks, sent back the letter 'cause they'd died an' y'felt like y'couldn't leave no more. But before they died, they thought y'wouldn't be here. So they changed their will, an' they left the whole thing t' me. It was in trust for a while, 'til Ah came of age -- but Ah've been old enough for a while. He left me this hat, and it was his hat for years, Mac. Didn't really take it for mah own for a long time. But it's mah land. Mah house, come t' that. Ah ain't takin' mah hat off an' Ah ain't leavin' my property. Not for this, not for anythin'. Y'can't tell me to. Y'can't tell me anything. But --"
She should have stopped there.
(She would wish she had.)
"-- Ah could tell you lots of things, if'fin Ah wanted to. For starters, Ah could tell you that maybe your application's still good. Sure, you're a little older than the usual freshpony -- but Ah'm not leavin', y'can't make me, but Ah could tell you that it's mah life an' if y'don't wanna be part of it --"
"-- Apples don't do this! Not with a --"
It was the last chance.
(She failed.)
"-- you can get out."
Her words reached her own ears, and that was what sent them back.
It wasn't their first fight. They were big brother and younger sister: of course they fought. But she'd just said...
Ah jus' told Mac t'...
And before she could reconcile that, his own soft words came.
"What would they say, Lady Malus? What would they do if they were here right now?"
She had been focused on his eyes, and that broke. It was only for a second, and it was a moment where she looked at vacuum.
For a pony Ah haven't even been out with yet, not for real.
A pony Ah'm not sure how Ah feel 'bout.
Somepony where this might not even work out.
Ah jus' said all that for what could be nothin'.
But he'd asked the wrong question.
"Daddy loved Pinkie."
His eyes went wide.
"What does that have t' do with --"
More quietly, forcing the words to keep coming, "It's everythin'. He loved Pinkie for who she was. Mommy was a little weirded out sometimes, but she loved Pinkie too. They both loved her, Mac. They welcomed her into our -- mah home. An' since Ah know what they did with her, Ah say they would have welcomed Snowflake. It's jus' a date --"
He reared back. Huge forehooves dropped to the floor.
"Goin' out," he said. The big body turned, giving the tail more room to lash. Hoofsteps echoed against the old floor.
"Where?" asked the last remnants of a lifelong bond.
"'Out' is enough."
And he was gone.
Applejack dropped down. Stood on her own ground, helplessly staring at the newest vacuum.
"Granny --"
The elder also got up, only much more slowly: it wasn't a good day for that hip.
"Ah'm goin' t' bed," she said. "Assumin' y'think Ah still have one. We'll talk in the morning."
Two more spaces now.
Applejack's eyes closed, and the tremble began in her right hind leg, just above the hock. Raced up and across, made her flanks quiver, her mane shake as the room began to blur, moisture distorting the world as all four knees began to bend --
-- and the little body was pressing against her. Holding her up.
"The mission..." Apple Bloom swallowed. "...it was a bad one, wasn't it?"
Applejack had been given hints of what Twilight was going through. Knew stress built up in the former unicorn, rebounded within the slender form, picked up speed and did its best to destroy. Because Twilight took things in, and there were times when she held onto them too long. Thought about them over and over. Couldn't stop. But that was Twilight. And when it came to stress, to the mission, Applejack had --
-- everything.
Ah went through everything an' it's... it's all still here...
She barely managed the whisper.
"Worse than anythin', Apple Bloom. Worse than... worse than Nightmare. Worse than Discord, 'cause he got put back an' now... he ain't quite the same no more. This one... Ah ain't the same. Ah..."
She blinked, closed her eyes again. The lids pushed some of the tears away.
"...do y'hate me?"
The silence lasted for three heartbeats, and it was still the longest of her life.
"No." The little body (which wasn't quite so little any more) adjusted position, took more of the weight. "Do y'wanna talk 'bout it?"
"There's only so much Ah can say. So much anypony can say..."
"So tell me that. Maybe..." Hopefullly, "...maybe it'll be enough?"
It was a while before the youngest got her sister to the couch. It wasn't long enough for the shaking to stop.