Guppy Love

by PaulAsaran


Chapter 4

Applejack and Fluttershy spent that evening forming a lesson plan, and for the next two weeks spent every available moment trying to teach Sweetie and Rarity how to speak English. Rainbow helped a little, but had to return to the mainland more often than not for practice and games. Fluttershy, being Fluttershy, was kind enough to offer to pay for Rainbow’s gas as she went to and fro. Yet Fluttershy herself still had work at the veterinary clinic in town, and they agreed that she had to keep going in order to not arouse any suspicions, so much of the teaching fell upon Applejack.

Not that this bothered her. Sweetie was a fast learner, though she struggled to understand articles and certain prepositions. Rarity, though not as adept, attacked the teaching with a fervor. Applejack imagined it was more due to wanting to stay with Sweetie than anything. Aside from that, Applejack enjoyed being with her. In a strange reversal of expectations, the talented Sweetie was less curious about the whole process, whereas Rarity asked questions constantly, inasmuch as she could. The way her face would light up every time she figured out a new concept made Applejack feel funny on the inside. Whatever it was, she wanted more of it.

“Hand.” One warm, cloudless day, they were practicing their anatomy

“Hand, that’s right.” Applejack leaned forward and touched her toes.

“Foot,” Rarity and Sweetie said in unison, both lounging on the sand opposite her, their tails resting in the water.

“Foot, good!” She pointed to Sweetie’s tail.

“Tail!” Sweetie flicked it, sending droplets cascading across the pond. She seemed very proud of having learned that particular word. Or maybe it was the tail itself she was proud of.

“Right, tail. Looks like you two have that down.” She spoke slowly, all the better for them to recognize the pronunciation. There was some concern that Applejack’s accent would confuse them, so she tried to limit what words she used and how.

“Know it!” Sweetie nodded firmly. “Hand, foot, tail. Arm, eye. Hair, finger, toe, fin!” She eagerly pointed to each body part in turn, beaming when Applejack applauded her correctness.

Rarity frowned, looking down at her own body. “Applejack?”

That strangely aristocratic sound, very different from Sweetie’s, sent a pleasant shiver down Applejack’s spine. “Yeah?” She coughed. “I mean, yes?”

Looking up with a questioning expression, Rarity cupped her bare breasts. “What this?”

Applejack’s cheeks grew hot as she stared at the perky things. A little smaller than hers, but not necessarily small. Why was she getting all anxious? It wasn’t like she hadn’t been seeing them constantly for the last few weeks. “Oh, uh…” She licked her lips, the pause serving the dual purpose of separating the word for easier understanding and buying time to get her head on straight. “Breast. Breasts.” As with anything they’d taught so far, she made sure to include both singular and plural.

Seemingly unaware of Applejack’s bout of awkwardness, Rarity hummed and eyed her breasts, still casually lifting and lowering them. “Breasth. Breasts.” Applejack did her best not to stare and failed spectacularly.

Sweetie repeated the terminology herself, running a hand across her own breasts. Hers were decidedly small, though Applejack couldn’t tell if that was due to age or she was simply flat-chested. The child eyed Rarity’s with a pout, which only grew when she turned her eyes on Applejack’s.

“What this?” Rarity scooted closer. To Applejack surprise, she reached over and pinched the fabric of her button-up shirt’s sleeve.

“Huh? Oh!” Applejack waved her back, then proceeded to gesture to her entire self. “Clothing. Clothes.” She waited for them to repeat the word back to her, Rarity tripping over the ‘c’ and ‘s’ sounds. A lot of consonants seemed to have no equivalent in their language, like ‘c’ and ‘k’ and ‘s’, making them much harder for the mermaids to speak. They apparently defaulted to digraphs like ‘ch’, ‘sh’, and ‘th’, instead (Applejack didn’t even know what a digraph was until she started these lessons). Sweetie was getting much better at proper pronunciation, but Rarity still struggled. All the more reason for Applejack to be careful about her own pronunciation.

Once they had the word right, Applejack began naming the different articles of clothing. “Shirt, shirts. Pants. Shoe, shoes.” They learned them, Rarity with particular eagerness. Once they were done, Rarity asked, “Why clothesh?”

“Clothes,” Sweetie corrected.

Rarity grimaced and tried again slowly. “Ch… Clothes.” Yes, definitely having trouble. At least she was getting better at speaking above water for longer periods of time. “Why clothes?”

“Uh…” If there was anything about all this Applejack didn’t like, it was when she had to explain some cultural topic. It hadn’t happened too much so far, and this was one she’d not been expecting. How was she supposed to describe the purpose behind wearing clothes? Especially now when Rarity and Sweetie lacked the vocabulary to understand her explanation? She scratched her head, fumbling for some kind of solution.

“Okay.” Going out on a limb, she made a sweeping gesture at herself. “Clothed.” She then made a similar gesture at Rarity and Sweetie. “Naked.”

Rarity cocked her head. “Nached mean no chlothes?”

“Yes.” Applejack nodded firmly, then gestured to herself again. “Humans don’t like being naked.”

This only confused Rarity, apparently. Sweetie, no less uncertain, spoke to her in their native language. This prompted Rarity to ask, “Why?”

Applejack cringed. As much as she liked Rarity’s inquisitiveness, there were fewer questions that could cause as much of a problem as that one. “Because… Because…” She groaned, realizing the words she wanted to use weren’t known to them yet. “We just don’t, okay?”

Sweetie giggled. “Humans stupid!” Ah, she’d picked up some of Rainbow’s language.

“Shvee-tzee-braille.” Rarity’s tone made the younger mermaid flinch. With a pout, Sweetie mumbled something that might have been an apology before sliding into the pond, disappearing beneath the surface. Probably to sulk, knowing her. Turning back to Applejack, Rarity bowed her head. “Sh… Shorry.”

Applejack smiled, an easy thing to do around her. “It’s okay. I’m sure she didn’t mean any harm.”

“Harm.” Rarity sighed, rubbing her hand along her injured tail. She did that often, usually when thinking on unhappy things. There remained an underlying melancholy in everything she did, though she was getting better at hiding it lately. Applejack longed for the day she could wipe that sadness away for good.

“Trusth hard.” Rarity looked to the water. “Shvee-tzee no trusth easy. No trusth human. She…” A pause, perhaps to think on how to say what she wanted. “She leave. I shtay?” Her finger ran in circles around her wound, an anxious motion.

What emotions had to be running through her head? Applejack could only imagine it, the sick feeling of thinking you might have to be abandoned by someone you cared about. She still wasn’t clear on what Sweetie and Rarity were to one another, but there was no doubting their closeness. The two of them were about at the level that they could explain the risks of the surgery and let Rarity make an informed decision, something Fluttershy absolutely insisted on. Applejack wasn’t sure the mermaids even understood why they were delaying, though they’d tried to explain that they needed to communicate properly before they could do it.

But every day they waited was another day Rarity had to question if she would lose Sweetie. When anyone suggested that Sweetie stay here permanently with her, Rarity always objected. It was like the very idea of being stuck in one spot terrified her. If that was the case, and Fluttershy succeeded in healing Rarity… She’d leave. The possibility left Applejack feeling hollow. It was a familiar sensation, one she’d felt keenly a year ago and which continued to haunt her whenever she wasn’t distracting herself with whatever she could.

The feeling spurred her into action; she reached out to grasp Rarity’s arm. “Safe.”

Rarity met Applejack’s gaze, her perfect blue eyes full of worry. “Safe?”

“If you stay, I’ll keep you safe.” Applejack whispered. “I promise.”

The spark of appreciation she’d hoped for never materialized. Rarity looked back to the water. “Shvee-tzee leave. Shvee-tzee safe? No. Not safe.” Then, as if in consolation, she squeezed Applejack’s arm with her free hand and whispered. “Thank you.”

It did little to ease Applejack’s heart.


Applejack stared at herself in the mirror of the bathroom. Turning her head left and right, she examined her face. Did mermaids get freckles? Did they find them attractive? She ran a finger along the side of her nose, wondering at its shape. Her finger was rough from a life of hard farm work. Rarity’s fingers were soft and smooth, like silk. Did that matter? It supposedly did. In human culture. But what about mermaid culture?

Her eyes drifted to the rim of the sink. A small collection of beauty products stood there. She had no idea what most of them were for. Fluttershy would know, but should she ask? She went swimming a lot nowadays. The makeup would run off. No point. She was herself, and she couldn’t mask that. She wasn’t sure she wanted to, but the fact she couldn’t left her feeling… uncomfortable.

She plucked up one bottle. Perfume, apparently. She tapped the top, making a small cloud of flowery aromas float in the air. It was a wonderful smell. Would Rarity notice if she used some on herself?

If she made the world smell like flowers, would Rarity stay?

The front door opened, and Applejack hurriedly replaced the perfume bottle. Turning on the faucet, she splashed cold water on her face, hoping to cool her cheeks a little.

Fluttershy called from the front of the beach house. “Applejack? Are you home?”

“In the back.” After wiping her face dry with a towel, Applejack hurried out and towards her room. She had a few shirts laid out on the bed, and began to set them on her arm. She adamantly refused to look at the Stetson on the vanity.

“There you are.” Fluttershy appeared in the doorway, sporting a backpack and a computer bag over one shoulder. “I’m surprised to see you. You’ve never wanted to leave Rarity and Sweetie alone before.”

“Wanted to get some dinner made, figured it was my turn. They’re familiar enough with the pond and all its little hiding places by now that they can hide if they need to.” Which was true enough; they’d had two instances where other island residents came by the pond, and on both occasions the mermaids had disappeared before Applejack or Fluttershy even knew what was coming. “How was work?”

Fluttershy went to her room as she answered. “Productive. I’m bringing my laptop to the pond today.”

“Oh? I’m sure they’ll like that. They usually find our technology interesting.” They’d already introduced them to cell phones, although the island’s service was abysmal. The pond was far enough away from the beach houses that it effectively had no signal at all. Still, they were able to show them some of the functionality, like taking pictures and playing games. The five shirts tucked under her arm, Applejack went to the kitchen where Fluttershy’s picnic basket was waiting, already filled with baked goods. The mermaids were very fond of bread, but today she’d be introducing them to apple fritters.

“Maybe.” Fluttershy was subdued as she returned to the kitchen, out of her work clothes and now sporting a yellow sun dress. “What’s with the shirts?”

Applejack grinned, recalling Rarity’s adorably curious expression. “Rarity’s become fascinated with the whole ‘clothes’ thing. She wanted to try wearing some. I think I’m pretty big compared to her, but I didn’t want to go digging through your closet uninvited.”

“Oh! Well, in that case…” Fluttershy dropped her computer bag on a dining chair and hurried back to her room. A few seconds later she’d returned with some clothes of her own. “I don’t know, I might be a little tall in comparison. No reason not to try.” She smiled, but there was something else beneath it. Something… melancholic.

“Something wrong, sugarcube?”

Fluttershy tucked her clothes under her arm and grabbed her computer bag, not meeting Applejack’s eye. “Not wrong, just… I’ve decided it’s time to really show them what’s at stake with the surgery. I think I’ve found a good way to demonstrate.”

Applejack nodded slowly. “And that’s why you’re bringing the laptop.” Her friend only nodded.

The walk back to the pond was quiet. Fluttershy kept twisting her hair between her fingers. Applejack wanted to comfort her, but she had her own clash of reality to deal with. Rarity was going to see the risks. She might make a decision tonight. And if it was to go through with the surgery…

I don’t want her to go. She forced her legs to keep moving, not wanting to attract Fluttershy’s attention. But I don’t want her to be a cripple for the rest of her life. The inner conflict soured her mood. Her eyes remained on her shuffling feet as she pondered some solution to the dilemma. Answers were woefully few, and the ones she did come up with were… not ideal.

When they reached the pond, it was devoid of any sign of occupation. This was perfectly normal. While Fluttershy settled atop the flat rock they’d used to examine Rarity – now Rarity’s favorite sunning spot – Applejack walked to the beach and tapped her toe in the water once, twice, three times. She needed only wait a few seconds before Sweetie’s head peeked from the shadows near the cliff to confirm who their visitors were. She ducked back underwater to alert her companion, and soon both mermaids were approaching from the pond’s depths. Applejack took that time to lay both Fluttershy’s and her clothes on a nearby tree limb for later use.

Rarity was very curious about the clothes, but Fluttershy explained that they had something more important to talk about. So, after some work arranging the mermaids into a proper viewing position on the rock, she set her computer up to play a video. The video was of a surgery in an observation setting, like at a medical school. The introduction explained with clinical aloofness that they were about to witness a hip replacement. Neither Sweetie nor Rarity understood what was going on… until a doctor started making an incision. Then they were glued to the screen.

As this was going on, Applejack leaned close to Fluttershy. “Are you sure Sweetie’s old enough to see this?”

Fluttershy, watching the mermaids for reactions, whispered back, “This is something that affects both of them. Sweetie needs to understand the ramifications of the decision every bit as much as Rarity does.” Having no argument against this, Applejack decided to keep her concerns to herself for now.

The video was more of a summary than anything, skipping forward every once in a while to get to key moments. Still, it showed them everything they needed to see, from the original hip being removed to the new one being put in place. It even showed the flesh being sewn back together, and after images of the patient undergoing physical therapy and making a full recovery.

Rarity and Sweetie were silent when the video ended, staring at the screen with expressions of awe. As Fluttershy pulled the laptop away and began typing something in it, Applejack asked, “Do you do surgery where you’re from?” She’d carefully selected her words based on what she knew they had learned.

It was Sweetie who answered. “No. I… Uwa…” She paused, her familiar scrunched face appearing as she concentrated. “We?” A firm nod. “We. We not do that. We not ‘surgery’.”

“No,” Rarity agreed solemnly. “No surgery.” She looked to Fluttershy, hope rekindled in her eyes. “Start?”

Fluttershy hesitated, casting an anxious look Applejack’s way, then turned the laptop to face the mermaids again. “One more.”

“But we know,” Sweetie replied with a frown. “We see.” Applejack watched the exchange, also wondering what her friend was up to.

Fluttershy shook her head. “You saw a good one.” She pressed play. “You need to see the bad.”

The video started, and the bemused mermaids settled to watch. This one was of some sort of bicep tendon repair on a woman’s upper arm. It was not a summary but the full procedure in real time, so Fluttershy did the skipping on her own. Applejack wasn’t sure why they were being shown this… until the end. The results video brought up several images and short videos showing the woman in pain and struggling. Applejack had no idea what she was looking at, but the ending left no doubt as to the impact: the woman lost her arm entirely.

Once again, the mermaids were in a state of silence, this time from visible horror. It was Sweetie who broke out of it first, pointing sharply at the screen as she turned to Fluttershy. “Why?”

“Infection,” she replied quietly. She met Rarity’s startled gaze. “Risk.” Then she clicked the mouse, and an image appeared of a man. He was dead, lying on a street. “Risk.” Another click, and a content, healthy couple were sitting on a beach together. “Risk.” She clicked again, and the couple was replaced with a woman walking with a cane, hobbled by a leg bent the wrong way. “Risk.” Click; the next picture was of the man from the first video looking perfectly happy. “Risk.” A final click, and a dead child, all skin and bones, was shown. “Risk.

A long, solemn silence filled the air. Rarity and Sweetie both looked as if they’d been slapped in the face. The elder was once more rubbing her hand gently over her wound.

Sweetie took a deep breath. “Surgery. Might work. Might not.”

Fluttershy nodded. “I will do everything I can to make it work.” She met Rarity’s gaze, face firm. “But it might not. It might go bad.” She reached out to take Rarity’s hand. “It’s up to you. Only you can choose.”

“N-no,” Sweetie’s attempt at self-control was ruined by the stutter. “Not safe.” She leaned towards Rarity, her face pleading. “No.”

Rarity swallowed. She didn’t look at Sweetie. After several seconds of blank staring at the dead child on the screen, she pulled away. Without a word, she slipped off the rock and into the water, disappearing in the waning light.

Sweetie trembled as she stared at the ripples in the water. She spun to Fluttershy, grasping her arms. “No. No! Not safe! Don’t. No surgery.” The desperation in her voice was enough to bring wetness to Fluttershy’s eyes.

Applejack leaned forward. “Sweetie? If Rarity wants it—”

A pale finger was thrust in her face. “Keep away! Mine!” The glare lasted less than a second before Sweetie was grasping at Fluttershy’s arms again. “Fluttershy, please. No surgery.”

Despite her sniffling, Fluttershy kept the tears at bay. She reached up to caress Sweetie’s cheek. “I’m sorry. It’s Rarity’s choice. I’ll go by w-what she wants.”

Sweetie’s face cracked, horror overtaking her features. She mumbled a few mermaid words under her breath before pulling back. “No. No. No surgery. No surgery! Will tell her, no! Will… Will…” With a wail, she dove off the rock and into the water.

Silence filled the air, interrupted only by Fluttershy’s efforts to suppress her tears. After a few seconds, Applejack shuffled closer and wrapped an arm around her. “It’s okay, Shy. You did good.”

Her friend's trembling arms squeezed her waist. “I d-don’t know if I can do it. I-I keep telling myself I can, b-but…”

“You can do it,” she whispered in her ear.

“But I tried it once,” Fluttershy replied, tears finally streaming down her cheeks. “I tried it once and… a-and I killed a poor dog! It hurt so much, Applejack. It was the most terrible thing ever, it still gives me nightmares. A-and now I’m promising to do it to a mermaid. I’m not qualified for this!”

The words stung like little needles to the heart. Applejack had never heard this story. Only now did she fully grasp just what Fluttershy’s offer meant to her. Had she known earlier she would have strongly urged against ever making it. She glanced at the laptop, still open to that scene of death, and quickly closed it before going back to holding her friend.

“Fluttershy?” She pulled back just enough to look into her face. Fluttershy’s eyes were clenched tight. This did nothing to stop the tears from making rivers down her cheeks. “If this is so hard on you, why’d you even offer in the first place?”

Cracking her eyes open, Fluttershy sniffed and rubbed at her nose with her arm. “I… I couldn’t just leave her like that. There’s nobody else. Nobody. If not me, th-then who? I had to at least give her a chance.”

The response was humbling. What other reaction could there be? Applejack smiled warmly and pulled her back into a tight hug, pressing Fluttershy’s cheek to her shoulder. “It’s very brave of you to do this, sugarcube. I’m proud of ya, and don’t ever think otherwise, okay? You’ll do the best you can, and nobody could ask for more.”

“B-but what if it doesn’t work?” Fluttershy murmured through the fabric of Applejack’s shirt. “What if I cripple her for life? Applejack… what if I k-k-kill her?”

“You won’t, Shy.”

“B-but—”

“You won’t.”


Applejack stayed up with Fluttershy that night, helping her stay calm and brave in the face of what she might have to do. The entire time, she held back mentioning her own inner turmoil and a closely guarded, guilty desire for her friend to back out due to fear. What kind of person did that make her? Such a selfish idea. So she spent the time being encouraging, building Fluttershy up, asking her pertinent questions that proved beyond a doubt she was capable of doing this.

At last, well after midnight, Fluttershy fell asleep. At first, this had been a relief; no more struggling to hide her true desires. But as Applejack lay in her own bed and stared at the ceiling, she couldn’t get over the things left unsaid. Things about Rarity. Things about her parents. Things about Fluttershy. She tossed and turned, desperate to escape the flood, but her brain refused to cooperate.

The frustration was too much. She threw off her sheets and left the beach house, not even bothering to change out of her pajamas. It wasn’t as though she was being inappropriate; people every day wore ‘swimsuits’ that made her loose cotton pants and sports bra downright conservative. Nobody would care anymore than she did right now.

The beach had a way of striking all the senses at once. She strolled along, the same familiar route as always. A half-full moon peered through fast-moving clouds to create looming shadows from the forest. Wet sand clung to her bare feet, soft and squishy and just a little grainy. The surf washed over her exposed toes, chilling them and giving her a fresh jolt of awakeness. The wind was stronger than usual tonight, warm and causing high, crushing waves that thundered in her ears while her untied hair whipped around. The ever-present scent of salty water filled her nostrils. Even her mouth wasn’t spared the air’s saline flavor. Yet all of this wasn’t enough to block out the thoughts streaming through her skull.

She had to face one fundamental truth: she didn’t want Rarity to leave. The idea of why tickled at the back of her mind, a shadow longing to take over her every thought. But it was a dumb idea. An impossible one. What basis did it have in reality? None. There were so many issues and flaws and problems in the short term of it that the long term was little more than a pipe dream. Applejack knew this. She was a practical person. Common sense told her to abandon it now and save everyone the trouble.

So why wouldn’t it go away?

“Damn it, Pa, why ain’t you here to help me with this?” She closed her eyes and listened to the rushing waves, the wind on the beach, and the occasional call of some night animal.

What are you talking about, Pa?

I’m talking about boys, apple seed. You know what boys are, don’t ya?

Of course I know! I’m not dumb.

Never said you was, sweetie pie. I’m just saying, someday you’re going to like them.

I don’t get it. I like Big Mac. He’s a boy.

Other boys. You’ll like other boys, and not in the way you like Big Mac.

…I still don’t get it.

Someday, you will. Which is why I want to make sure you understand: if any boy hurts you, you tell me, alright?

Hurt me? Come on, Pa. I’m strong! I can hurt them back! But why would any boy want to hurt me?

Because when you’re older you’ll have something all boys want, and some will be willing to do bad things to get it.

Like what?

Never you mind that right now. Just remember: when you need help with boys, Pa’s got your back. Understand?

…not really, no.

A chuckle tickled its way out of Applejack’s throat. “Guess I still don’t get it, all things considered.” She ran a hand through her blonde bangs with a sigh. “Where are ya, Pa? I don’t know what I’m doing. I need ya now more than ever.” Her eyes went to the sky, but the roiling clouds wouldn’t let her see too many stars. She wondered if this weather portended rain soon.

She was nearing the aquarium and marina. She could see the dilapidated docks struggling to stay in one piece against the waves. Her thoughts turned to Rarity. An idea came on a whim, was immediately attacked by doubts and arguments. Before she knew it, she was entering the forest, following a familiar pipe to the pond. The tall trees funneled the wind at first, but soon she was far enough within the forest that the mass of trunks shielded her. The canopy overhead twisted and writhed as though alive and unhappy with her trespass. But Applejack didn’t have a fancy imagination for such things, and paid the whispered threats of the leaves and limbs little mind.

The pond was quiet. Even this weather wasn’t enough to disturb its calm surface. No sign of the mermaids could be seen, which worked fine for AJ. She wasn’t here to visit. She just thought it might help her think. She went to that old, sturdy bridge over the creek and sat, her legs dangling through the railing. Her toes skimmed the cool water, sending ripples across the smooth surface. Arms hanging limp on the top of the rail, she leaned forward to stare at her reflection. Green eyes, weary and framed by her long, messy blonde locks, greeted her.

She sat there for some time, trying to force her mind to empty. To vacate her thoughts of Fluttershy and her fears, her parents and their absence, and Rarity and her beauty. Such a strange situation she’d found herself in. Maybe in a few years she’d look back on it and laugh.

She didn’t feel much like laughing right now.

More ripples. The sound of dripping water. Applejack raised her head to see the pale, perfect form of Rarity at the foot of the bridge on her right. The mermaid’s loveliness did nothing to hide her own weariness. Her diamond blue eyes met Applejack’s, and in that moment they shared a mutual understanding, an awareness that all was not right in their worlds. Applejack’s heart went out to her, and she could feel Rarity’s sympathies in turn. For just that moment, they were connected in ways Applejack knew she would remember for the rest of her life.

Without a word, Rarity raised her hand in offering.

Without a word, Applejack stood, lifted the young woman from the sand, and carefully set her down on the bridge.

Without a word, they sat side-by-side, staring across the pond.

Applejack found speaking strangely difficult, her throat blocked by some obstruction she couldn’t identify. Trying to look at Rarity proved fruitless; her neck, even her eyes refused to cooperate. But leaving this night to ‘without a word’ felt wrong, so she forced something out. “Sweetie?”

Rarity shifted, which at last broke Applejack’s eyes free of whatever was chaining them down. She watched as the mermaid placed her palms together and tilted her head atop them. Applejack nodded and said, “Sleeping.”

Glowing dimly in the darkness, the fins on either side of Rarity’s head spread slightly, which Applejack supposed was the equivalent of ears perking. “Sh… Sleeping. Yes. Sleeping.”

“Is she okay? She’s good?”

Rarity stared at the water, her tail floating just on the surface. Melancholy shadowed her features. “Not good. Not okay.”

Applejack had no answer to that. She went back to staring at the pond, feeling strangely guilty. The quiet crept over the two of them yet again, disturbed only by the canopy thrashing in the wind. A cloud rolled before the moon, casting the world into a not-quite blinding darkness. Applejack’s gaze fell upon Rarity’s tail in the water, mesmerized by how it seemed to glitter even in the shadows. How strange that it didn’t do so when dry.

“Why?”

She sat up to view her companion. Rarity didn’t return the look. The mermaid set a hand to her bare chest. “You help me. When hurt. Why?”

What an odd question. “Why wouldn’t I?”

The blinking stare Rarity returned suggested the answer was every bit as mysterious to her as the question had been for Applejack. “Risk.”

“Risk?” Applejack frowned as she recalled the ‘definition’ of that word as Fluttershy had offered it to them that day. Or yesterday, as it was. She shook her head. “It was the right thing to do. I couldn’t leave you to die.”

Rarity pursed her lips. It was unclear if she was trying to translate the answer with her limited awareness of English or the answer itself. “You chould.” A shake of the head. “Could. Should? For… for us. Should.”

A bit of pondering was required to grasp her meaning. “You mean… mermaids abandon their injured?” Realizing she’d used words Rarity hadn’t yet learned, she tried again. “You don’t help hurt mermaids?” Rarity shook her head. “Why?”

Risk.” Rarity spoke the word with firm finality. “Must help. Must help. Must help.” She gestured to herself. “Must help self.”

That sounded selfish, and Applejack almost said so, but restrained herself. She didn’t have enough context to do otherwise. “Can’t you bring them somewhere safe?”

Rarity spread her arms wide. “Where?”

Scratching the back of her head, Applejack asked, “Don’t have a city or something?”

“Sh… Cithy?”

“Many mermaids. Together.”

A shake of the head. “Not together, no. We don’t together. Two. Three. Maybe four. No more.” She waved her hands in a swaying, back-and-forth motion. “Move. Alwaysh move.”

A nomadic life. No big communities. No central place for care. It was a big ocean, with many big threats. Applejack understood the perspective, at least with her limited ability, but the idea of leaving a friend behind… She understood, but she didn’t want to understand.

“Shvee-tzee…” Rarity leaned heavily against the rail, rubbing her tail. “Shvee-tzee should leave.”

Even with a better understanding of Rarity’s cultural perspective, the statement ate at Applejack. She turned to the mermaid and asked, “Is she your sister?”

Rarity cocked her head. “Shishter?”

How to explain this concept? It dawned upon Applejack that they’d never taught Rarity or Sweetie anything about family units. A quick review shined light on how tricky it was to explain. “Sister. Uh…” She needed a visual aid. Pointing to the nearby beach, she asked, “Draw?”

Understanding the intention, Rarity nodded and allowed herself to be carried down to the sand. Applejack tried not to think of how cool her skin felt, how nice it was to have those lithe arms around her muscular shoulders. How her muscles probably made her less desirable. Did Rarity notice? Did she care?

“Applejack?”

“Sorry.” Lowering Rarity to the ground, Applejack settled beside her and began to draw in the sand. The clouds were kind enough to let the moon out once more, making the task easier. She drew three simple family trees: her own, Fluttershy’s, and what she imagined was Rarity’s. The figures were sticks and nothing more, but Applejack added bows to the females. Once she was done, she started with Fluttershy’s.

“Fluttershy.” She pointed to the bowed figure representing her friend. Then to her mother and father, whose figures were much closer together. “Parents.” Then to her brother. “Sibling. Brother.” Rarity clearly didn’t understand, but that was okay. Expected. She moved to her own family tree, starting with herself. “Applejack.” Then to her parents. “Parents.” Then to Big McIntosh. “Sibling. Brother.” Then to Apple Bloom. “Sibling, sister.” She looked to Rarity hopefully.

The mermaid studied the images, brow furrowed. She pointed. “Fluttershy.” Then again. “Applejack.” She looked at Applejack questioningly. “Sisthers?” A brief scowl. “Sisters.

Applejack shook her head. “Not siblings. Not sisters.” She pointed to Fluttershy’s parents with two fingers. “Parents…” Then moved her hand down to the children, spreading her fingers along the tree’s lines so she was pointing at both of them at once. “Siblings.” She then drew a circle around the whole tree. “Family.”

She repeated the process with her own family tree. “Parents. Siblings. Family.” She then pointed with each hand, one at her own stick figure and the other at Fluttershy’s. “Applejack and Fluttershy. Not family. Not siblings. Not sisters.” Then, with emphasis, “Friends.”

After examining both trees, Rarity gave a slow nod. “Family.” She pointed to Fluttershy’s parents. “Parents.” With a strange grace, she placed her hands on her stomach, mimed it growing large, then pretending to hold something small to her chest. Looking to Applejack hopefully, she repeated, “Parents?”

“Yes. Yes!” Applejack nodded excitedly. “Parents! Mother and father. Parents.” She pointed to Fluttershy’s parents. “Parents.” Then to the siblings. “Children of parents.”

“Children…” Rarity nodded once more, smiling warmly as she pointed out each group appropriately. “Parents. Children of parents. Siblings. Family. Friends.”

“Yes.” Beaming, Applejack brought Rarity’s attention to the third family tree. “Are you and Sweetie siblings? Sisters?”

Now grasping the true meaning of the question, Rarity shook her head and brushed away the small family tree. “Not shiblings. Friends.”

The gears in Applejack’s brain came to a sharp pause, but re-engaged as the meaning became clear. “Wait… No?

“No. Not siblings.” Rarity leaned forward and drew two new family trees, one for herself and one for Sweetie. “Friends.”

“Huh.” Applejack leaned back, palms to the sand, and let this sink in. She would have sworn… “Not sisters. Then why do you travel together?”

Rarity’s smile could have melted a glacier. It certainly did a number on Applejack’s heart. “Help. Team. We…” She hesitated. “We… are… better… together.” She grinned, perhaps proud to have achieved a full, proper sentence in English, if a simple one.

With curiosity spurred on by Rarity’s new vocabulary, Applejack asked, “And your parents?”

The grin shifted to uncertainty. “Whath…” A pause to consider her words. “What do… you… mean?” She grinned at Applejack’s approving nod.

As distracting as that smile was, Applejack tried to focus. “Where are your parents?”

Rarity shrugged. “Don’t know.” When Applejack only stared uncomprehendingly, she turned and drew lines away from her parents. “Gone.”

“Wait.” Applejack sat up straight and gaped at the image. “You mean your parents abandoned you?”

“Avhandon?”

“Abandon.” Applejack waved her hands in an attempt to indicate something going away. “Left alone. Leave. Give up. Bad.

“Bad?” Rarity shook her head. “Normal. I big, they go.”

That… didn’t sound so bad. Reining in her horror, Applejack tentatively asked, “And Sweetie?”

Another shrug. “Same.”

The horror came back. How old was Sweetie? Twelve? And her parents just left her to fend for herself? “N… Normal?”

“Normal.” Rarity tilted her head at Applejack. “Not normal?” She bent over and drew the same separating lines for Fluttershy’s parents before casting a questioning look her way.

“No!” Applejack swept the lines away and redrew the circle, then thrust her finger at it. “Family. Family normal.”

Still looking confused, Rarity bent over Applejack’s family tree and drew the lines again. “Applejack’s parents?”

A hot coal nestled itself within Applejack’s heart. Her breath left her as she stared at the lines suggesting her parents separate from their family and one another. Visions flashed through her mind. Her mother baking the perfect apple pie. Her massive father carrying baskets of apples into the barn. Apple Bloom sobbing in her grandmother’s arms. Big Mac’s door, closed and seemingly impenetrable, a silence every bit as solid emanating from it. The smell of apple blossoms and loose dirt.

“Applejack?”

She shook out of the reverie, but couldn’t shake off the fire bringing wetness to her eyes. “No.” Her trembling finger reached down to cut a line through the stick figures representing her parents. “Not normal. N-not…” A sniffle, unwelcome, unwanted. “Gone. J-just gone.”

Rarity was silent. Her eyes drifted from her to the slice across the stick figures. Back again. Slowly, as if picking her words carefully, she spoke. “Family. Normal. Important?” She shuffled a little closer. “Good?”

A shudder ran through Applejack, echoing in her deep breath. The coal’s heat stung her eyes. “L-love. I loved them so… so much.”

“Love.” Rarity shuffled closer, as best she could. She reached up, pulled Applejack close, held her tight.

Applejack stiffened. “W-wait, no. You don’t have t-to—”

She was shushed. Rarity held on tighter. “You help me. I help you. Pain not good. Let pain out.”

So many had asked. So many had offered. So many had failed.

Applejack sobbed openly against Rarity’s shoulder. She could hear her mother’s laughter, feel her father’s strong arms, taste her sweet apple pie, smell the sweat from his chest, see her curly orange hair. It was all so strong, like they were right there, but all she had to cling to was memories. Memories and Rarity, who whispered soothing words beyond her knowledge and patiently stroked her back.

She tried to regain control, but every time the waves receded a new one smashed into her and brought forth fresh cries. It was like an ocean carrying her along on violent currents, and her hopeless to fight it. She sobbed and sobbed, and when her throat was raw and her eyes should have run dry she sobbed some more.

After an eternity, the ocean calmed, taking with it the worst of the memories. Applejack was limp, realizing that at some point she’d laid down in the sand. Something soft and warm was pressed against her cheek, her arms wrapped about a soft, comfortable waist. Rarity, gently stroking her hair, hummed a gentle melody. Only then did Applejack realize she was hugging the mermaid, her face buried in Rarity’s stomach. This didn’t alarm her as much as she felt it should. The energy just wasn’t there.

Taking a heaving breath, swallowing to moisten her throat, Applejack pulled away and rubbed at her eyes. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

Rarity silenced her simply by holding her cheeks and lifting her head. Her warm smile brightened the universe. She gave Applejack a kiss on the forehead, and fireworks exploded in her brain. “Better?”

It was several seconds before Applejack realized she was gaping cross-eyed. “Y-yeah. Better.” She shook herself out of her stupor, instantly regretting it when those delightful hands left her cheeks. “I shouldn’t have done that, but… thank you.”

She really did feel better. The whole world seemed… lighter. It was as though she could truly breathe for the first time in a year. Everything was so clear, and now she felt guilty for letting herself linger on the pain for so long. The first thing she’d do upon returning to the farm was apologize to her remaining family, thank them for their patience, and make up for lost time. But first…

She lifted herself up on one arm to examine their surroundings. It was still dark, the wind still roiled, and only now did she realize that there was a sprinkling rain. She couldn’t have been out here more than an hour. Rarity lay beside her, watching her with a serene, pleasant smile. The fins on her tail, as well as those where her ears would be, glowed dimly in the dark. Her tail glittered with every raindrop, as if decorated with stars.

Rarity. Rarity came first.

Rarity would always come first. From now on.

She took Rarity’s hand in her own. “Have you decided?”

The serene smile faded. Rarity sat up, with Applejack’s assistance, and tucked her tail under her as she liked to do. Head bowed, but still meeting Applejack’s eye, she replied, “Yes. Surgery.”

Fluttershy might take it hard. She might have taken it hard either way. Applejack promised herself to work with the girl on getting ready emotionally. But Fluttershy came later. “Alright. And Sweetie? Does she know?”

Rarity shook her head. “Not know. Justh decided. When Applejack…” She hesitated, glancing away.

Ah. She’d decided in the midst of Applejack’s breakdown. A blush crept across her cheeks, but she ignored it. “As long as you’re sure.”

A moment of quiet passed between them. Applejack allowed herself a moment to examine Rarity in the rain. Her skin was riddled with tiny droplets, accentuating her petite frame and lithe curves. When the droplets streaked across her tail, they created a pattern of glittery purple lines unlike anything she’d ever seen. It was… lovely. The loveliest thing ever. Not just the tail, but all of her. Every inch of Rarity could mesmerize like a fantastic vision within a dream. Maybe that was all this was, a dream Applejack wished to never awaken from.

“Love.”

The word, spoken with a despondent frailty, pulled Applejack from her ogling. “Love?” She looked up to find Rarity staring at the pond, her eyes going beyond what was visible. Perhaps to Sweetie somewhere below.

“Love. Strong. Good, buth hurt. It’s…” Pursed lips, narrowed eyes. “I… understand what you mean…. by… love.” Only then did Applejack realize that neither Fluttershy nor she had ever defined love to them. “I… love… Shvee-tzee-braille. We are not family… but she is… my sister.”

Applejack was tempted to tell her she didn’t have to strive for full sentences. She held back. It had to feel important to Rarity that she speak this properly. So she said nothing and waited, ready to give every struggling word the attention it deserved.

Rarity’s head bowed. She pressed a hand over her heart. “We move… or risk. We are never shtill. Shvee-tzee-braille must move, must… keep moving. She must not wait… for me. That… would be… very bad for her.” She turned to Applejack. She wore a smile, but it was a thin thing unworthy of a creature as lovely as she. “Surgery. Surgery will heal me or… or end me. Both better for Shvee-tzee-braille.”

Her meaning struck like a sledgehammer to the gut. Applejack gasped, trembled, grasped Rarity’s shoulders. “No. It won’t be bad. Fluttershy can do it.”

Rarity smiled, but it spoke not of comfort. “Fluttershy waited. Fluttershy want Reh-Reh-Tzee to know risk. Fluttershy knows.”

How could Applejack argue that point? Rarity was right, Fluttershy had gone through all that extra trouble to emphasize the risks. She wouldn’t have done that if she were confident the surgery would work. The thought sent fresh trembles running through Applejack, chinking the armor that was her faith in her friend. “But… but you don’t have to take the risk. You could stay here. We would protect you. You could be happy here, right?”

With that same sad, kind smile, Rarity used her soft hands to pull Applejack forward, pressing their foreheads together. “You are good, Applejack. Very good. But not us to stay still. We musht move. Reh-reh-tzee not good here.”

“But… But I want you to stay.”

Rarity leaned back. Her expression turned perplexed. She brushed her finger along Applejack’s cheek, just under the eye, and pulled it back holding a fresh tear. She studied it, then asked, “What this?”

Sniffling, feeling like a child, Applejack asked, “Don’t you have tears? Don’t you cry?”

“Tears.” Holding the tear up between them, Rarity met her gaze. Her expression spoke of awareness and meaning. “We no tears.” She lowered her hand to the sand and offered another sad smile. “Sleep now, Applejack?”

Numbly, Applejack helped the mermaid back into the water. The touch of Rarity’s skin on her own burned like a fresh fire, the heat lingering even after she’d slipped beneath the pond’s surface and disappeared. Applejack stood there, water up to her knees, and thought for a long time about how mermaids had no tears.