Seeds of Life

by Freglz


Us

It was April when I met you.
Butter-yellow coat, bright red mane, eyes like amber and sweet as honey.  You were nine pounds, thirteen ounces — a little underweight, but nothing to be concerned about.  You were quiet as well, even when the midwife took you away from me, but you also had the most adorable yawn I ever did see.  And your hooves were so tiny, and your nose… I could’ve sat there all day tapping it with the edge of my hoof, listening to you giggle and squirm.
You were perfect.
Never in all my years have I seen a foal so beautiful.  I’m sure every mother can say that about their children, but there was something about you that made me burst into tears the second I saw your pretty, little face.  And you were mine. All mine.
Big Mac was there, as well as Granny, smiling from either side of the bed as they watched me run a hoof through your hair and trace the outline of your ears.  We were in my room, in the house. The midwife — a veterinarian and close friend of the family — had already left. You were bundled up in a lilac towel, gazing back at us, mumbling to yourself and blowing raspberries every so often.
“Aw, ain’t she a darling?” Granny fawned.  She never found out — was too upset I’d let this happen at such a young age to ask who it was with.  But you wouldn’t have guessed it that evening, the sunlight beaming in through open shutters and framing her grin in a golden halo.  “Gosh darn cutest thing I’ve seen in close to fifteen years.”
“Eeyup,” said Mac.
I just smiled and nodded.  There weren’t no need to kick up a fuss.  Not when I had you cradled in forelegs. “Looks just like Pa, don’t you think?”
She leaned in a little closer, squinting.  “I think you might be right, Applejack,” she agreed, her face brightening like the summer sun.  “Missing his green eyes, though, but a spitting image aside from that.”
And you were.  You are. Every time I look at you, I see him.  And I love you all the more for it. And I remember promising myself right then and there I’d never let anything happen to you, because if I did, it’d be like losing him all over again, as well as losing you.
You were just too precious.  And you were everything I needed.
“Thought of a name yet?” Mac asked.
I shook my head.  Of course I hadn’t.  I just couldn’t get over how lovely you were.
“Now, hold your horses,” Granny calmly interrupted, sharing a look between me and him.  “Before we start setting things in stone, let’s remind ourselves of something first.”
We waited expectantly, but we’d both been given the lecture enough to know what she was on about.
“As far as Ponyville’s concerned, this here young’un’s your new baby sister.”
A pang of regret struck me.  I couldn’t help it. I knew why we had to keep it secret — to protect the family name, as well as you and me — and to this day, it’s the only lie I’ve been comfortable telling.  We’d kept to ourselves since Ma and Pa passed, Mac and Granny only heading into town for essentials, so news of a third child wouldn’t have seemed too out of the ordinary, so long as we timed it right.  But thing was… I’d never have the chance to be your mother.
I’d make believe at home, for a time; feed you, change you, bathe and play with you, the way a mother should.  Laugh and cry like mothers do. But as soon as you could speak, even make believe had to end. I was ‘Applejack’, ‘AJ’ and ‘big sis’.  Never ‘Momma’. And it was silly of me to hope otherwise.
But none of that had happened just yet.  At the time, I was sad, but I was happy — happy to be surrounded by ponies who cared for me.  And I had you. Nothing could’ve brought me down after seeing the look in those dear, little eyes.
“I can live with that,” I said, and I meant it.  Even though my voice was shaky and caught at the back of my throat, I really, genuinely meant it.
“Eeyup,” Mac agreed.
Granny nodded slowly, chewing on her bottom lip.  And then she lowered her gaze and rubbed her chin.  “Now, as for a name…”
All our attention turned on you, and you seemed to know it.  You tittered and burbled, and looked at all of us so eagerly, as if you knew how glad we were to see you.  As if you knew how special you really were.
“Apple… Tart, maybe?  No, wait, how about, uh… Apple… Seed?  Yeah. Apple Seed.”
I shook my head with a smile.  That didn’t suit you at all. Seeds are stagnant, always waiting for, but never quite living up to their potential.  And apple seeds need very particular conditions to grow, so fussy and high-maintenance, even with a farmer’s tender hoof.
But you?
You’d sprout.  You’d blossom. You wouldn’t care if the soil’s too hot or too cold; you’d sink your roots in and make it your own, just like me, just like Mac, and just like Granny.  And you’d grow so tall. You’d make lots of friends, and you’d do amazing things together, and you’d be so much more than I could’ve ever imagined.
You’d be a pony the world would come to love.
And that’s when I had it.
I gently leaned down and gave you a soft kiss on the nose.
You giggled again and tried to hug my snout.
And I couldn’t have been happier.
“Welcome home, Apple Bloom.”