“So what's next?” Spike asked, sprawling out on the fainting couch and glancing over to Rarity who sat across from him on a plush red chair.
“Contacting Applejack so we can order the refreshments,” Rarity answered, turning a peice of paper around to reveal the still rather lengthy list of things they had yet to do.
“Ahh yes, number twenty of two hundred,” Spike muttered.
“Oh it's not that long, you’re just being silly. It's only a hundred and eighty seven things,” Rarity replied, sitting back in her chair and pushing the reading glasses further up her nose.
“You know you don't actually need those, right?” Spike replied. “I have perfect vision.”
“Yes but it's a force of habit,” Rarity replied, tapping the side of her glasses. “Plus, these aren't even prescription, though they are quite cute.”
Spike groaned. “Augh. I don't think my manliness will ever recover from such a beating.”
“Well your manliness is a silly thing to care about in the first place so I don't think you’ll lose anything when it's gone,” Rarity retorted.
“Aw come on. Now that's just mean. You don't see me constantly bothering you about being overly feminine,” Spike shot back.
“I suppose it has been a while since you’ve chided me for being delicate, but that doesn't mean I’m not still right you know,” Rarity exclaimed. “Your urge to be all rough and manly is simple barbaric silliness.”
“It is not,” Spike retorted. “You like it when I get all masculine and protective. Heck it's one of the reasons you agreed to go out with me in the first place.”
“Yes well, now that I’ve been living with you it's become quite a chore. Furthermore I wish you had used my nail kit more often. It's taken me days to get them just right,” Rarity exclaimed, raising her hand up to reveal that she had flattened, and painted her nails.
“What? But you said I wasn't allowed to do anything to you!” Spike shouted.
“Oh don't be ridiculous. The second we get switched back you can just as easily get it removed,” Rarity replied.
Spike snorted, and stood up from the couch. “You will be going to Applejack’s by yourself. And I would throw the extra blanket through the wash if I were you.”
“Wait, why is that?” Rarity demanded.
“Because you’re going to need it when your sleeping on the couch tonight,” Spike finished, the male turning up his nose and trotting out the room.
“Spike, wait! Come back, you’re being ridiculous,” Rarity called. “Come now, even you must admit that a little nail polish isn't that big of a deal.”
The room was quiet, and the dragon’s call was left unanswered.
Rarity sighed. “Fine. I suppose I’ll go to Applejack’s alone then. It's not like you were the one that insisted on having an open bar and getting the Apples to fill said bar in the first place.”
The dragon stood up from her seat, deposited her glasses and list on the table before turning towards the exit. She didn't make it to the door however, as she stopped and glanced back to where Spike had disappeared a minute earlier. Her mind whirrled with possibilities, and for a moment she considered seeking him out and apologizing.
“That's silly. I’ve done nothing to warrant apologizing,” Rarity muttered to herself before walking away.
Rarity walked through the orchard at a quick, yet unhurried pace, her gaze wandering across the many trees. A walk through the Apple family farm was always a relaxing one, and this time was no different. Why even just being here was enough to make Rarity’s shoulders fall slack and for her worries begin to leave her. They never left completely however, and a small voice at the back of her mind reminded Rarity of how upset Spike had been.
“Hmmph, he's just being ridiculous,” Rarity muttered.
The dragon paused, and walked around a small puddle, giving it a wide berth before getting back onto the path. She then pressed on to the apple family farm house, where Applejack sat outside, a pair of reading glasses dangling on the end of her nose. In her grip was a large manilla envelope filled with papers, important ones too judging from how focused the earth pony was.
“Good afternoon Applejack,” Rarity greeted as she approached the porch.
“Oh hey Spike- I mean Rarity,” Applejack replied, closing the folder and letting her glasses hang around her neck by a thin bronze chain. “What can I do for ya today?”
“Can I not just come to see adear old friend?” Rarity teased.
Applejack chuckled. “Well shoot. If I knew you were coming over for tea I woulda put the kettle on.”
“Maybe later, dear. For the moment I was hoping to talk business,” Rarity exclaimed.
Applejack leaned forward and raised an eyebrow. “Does this have to do with your wedding with Spike?”
“It does indeed,” Rarity answered. “Spike and I, though mostly Spike. Were hoping you could provide the refreshments for the reception.”
“Refreshments for the…” Applejack’s eyes went wide. “Oh you mean booze. Ya I suppose we could do that. We just finished bottling all the cider from last season so the cellar is stuffed to the gills.”
“That would be wonderful,” Rarity exclaimed. “I was hoping you could provide us with a wide array of ciders, and a cask or two of your famous Apple whiskey.”
“Oh you really want it all don't ya?” Applejack pushed her hat further up her head and rubbed her scalp with a hoof. “I suppose we could do that for ya. We got plenty down in the basement just waitin to be used after all.”
“Oh and I was curious if you had made any of that apple wine you had us a try a year or so ago,” Rarity inquired.
“We could whip some up in time. I thought you said you didn't like it though,” Applejack asked.
“Oh I enjoyed it. I’m just a little stuck in my ways, is all. You drink cab sauv for as long as I have and nothing quite tastes right,” Rarity explained.
“No kidding. You probably ain't got no taste buds left, what with how dry that junk is,” Applejack remarked, sticking her tongue out in disgust.
“It's not that bad,” Rarity retorted. “It's merely… an acquired taste.”
“Acquired like a bad rash maybe,” Applejack chuckled. “But I’m a bit busy so I’m going to have to cut the teasing off here if that's alright with you.”
“What, and deny me the chance of a witty retort?” Rarity exclaimed in an exaggerated fashion, hand spread across her chest.
Applejack rolled her eyes. “Well go on then. Let's hear it.”
Rarity hummed thoughtfully. “Something something uncultured something.”
“Yer losin yer edge,” Applejack remarked. “Don't worry though, I wont tell Spike you’re gettin senile already.”
Rarity giggled. “Why thank you darling.”
“Now then, like I said. I’m a might bit busy, but I know for certain that Big Macintosh will need a bit of help with all the stuff your askin for,” Applejack began, standing up and stretching, causing her back to pop. “Most of it is down in the cellar like I mentioned, and we’ll need to stage it in the barn so we can load it into the cart. After that we cna easily send it off to wherever your big fancy wedding is.”
“I’ll let Spike know that he should come help…” Rarity caught herself. “I suppose that is off the table for the moment.”
“I mean you can still lend a claw,” Applejack offered.
“I suppose…” Rarity muttered. “Though I’d really prefer not to. I just got a mani pedi and I don't want to ruin it.”
“Well then I’m not sure if we can give ya what ya want,” Applejack replied with a shrug. “Mac ain't as tough as he used to, and the doc would kill me if he found out I’m helping to lift those big things so soon after blowing out my back.”
Rarity briefly wondered if there was a way she could get Twilight to do it, as the unicorn was likely powerful enough to lift them all. She was busy with Trixie however, nevermind the fact that the unicorn had also volunteered to help send out some of the invitations. Asking anything more of her would be rude, Rarity realized, leaving the dragon with only two real options.
Abandoning the entire thing, or lending a hand herself.
“I suppose it's not like I had anything else planned today,” Rarity muttered.
“Atta girl,” Applejack exclaimed. “I’ll go fetch Mac, you just sit tight for a sec.”
Rarity waved a dismissive hand at the earth pony, her gaze swiftly becoming distant as she stared off into space. She really didn't want to do anything so degrading, but she also couldn't stand to go home and tell Spike that she was the reason they wouldn't have an open bar. With that thought firmly in mind, Rarity set her shoulders and stood patiently at the front of the porch.
A few minutes later a slightly greying Big Macintosh appeared from the orchard, his yoke having been replaced with clothing. The simple white undershirt and brown vest complemented his short, and rather neatly combed mane of wheat colored hair. He was also not quite as large as he had been when he was younger, though he was still a mountain of a stallion.
“Right then, y'all know what to do. Bring up two casks of the good stuff, and I’d say a full four cases of the cider,” Applejack exclaimed. “We can tuck em in Mable’s pen at the end there since she’s going to be stayin at the vet’s for a while longer.”
“Eeyup,” Big Macintosh declared.
“Now Rares, all you gotta do is carry the other end of the barrel while Mac has the front,” Applejack exclaimed. “Normally I’d just tell ya to sling one under each arm but I doubt y'all quite got the hang of having arms yet.”
“I am rather clumsy at the moment,” Rarity admitted somewhat reluctantly.
“Don't you worry, none. Mac here will do most of the heavy lifting. You just make sure he ain't doing all of it and you’ll be just fine,” Applejack exclaimed.
“Eeyup,” Big Macintosh agreed.
“Why exactly must this be done right now?” Rarity pressed.
“Cus yer wedding is real far away, and we’ll have to send things out sooner rather than later,” Applejack replied. “‘Sides, Mac’s gonna be busy soon, what with his kid comin, and you’re here right now.”
Rarity sighed. “I suppose I can't argue with that logic.”
“You could sure try,” Applejack trotted back to her chair and plunked back down. “Now then. Y'all give me a holler if you need a hand holding a door or something. I’m gonna get back to figuring out this mess.”
“Eeyup,” Big Macintosh exclaimed.
The stallion gestured towards the back of the farm house, and continued on in that direction without waiting for Rarity. Who was quick to follow after the male, dodging around the puddles which frequently littered the pathway. In only a few seconds the pair had traveled around to the other side, and were standing before the cellar entrance.
Big Macintosh leaned down and reached for the handle, but paused, wincing in pain.
“Allow me darling,” Rarity swiftly offered.
The male grunted, and took a step off to the side, saying nothing as Rarity pulled aside the simple lock. With a heave of her newfound muscles, the dragon pulled open the heavy oak door, flipping it up against the building. She then took a step back and gestured to the stairs leading down, a wide smile crossing her face.
“After you,” Rarity offered.
Big Macintush nodded his thanks to the dragon before trotting down into the dimly lit cellar. Lit only by what meagre light that managed to pierce a trio of basement windows, Rarity found that she could see clear as day. While Big Macintosh didn't quite have the same advantage, he did have experience, which was enough to guide him through it with ease.
Around barrels, past a rack of jarred apples floating in some manner of opaque liquid, Big Macintosh continued on into the dark. Rarity lagged behind somewhat, taking a moment to appreciate just how much food the Apples had stored away. There was easily enough to support a family of considerable size through the winter, and to eat well no less.
Even if it was rather musty, slightly dusty, and altogether quite unpleasant down in the old rocky cellar.
“Where exactly are these… oh there they are,” Rarity exclaimed.
Big Macintosh grunted as he dragged a large keg out from under the stairs leading up to the first floor of the Apple family home. Once out in the open, the stallion wiped the sweat from his brow and took position near the end pointing back the way they came.
“Ahh thank you darling. I don't think I’d be able to do the whole backwards thing at the moment,” Rarity remarked.
Big Macintosh nodded, and leaned down, a hoof ready to reach under the barrel. Rarity walked around the other end and mimicked the action, hefting the barrel as Big Macintosh did the same thing. Rarity expected it to be heavy, and though it was, Rarity had managed to lift it rather easily. The feeling of power was nearly overwhelmiung, and in an instant the former pony realized why Spike enjoyed weight lifting so much.
Big Macintosh snorted.
“Oh um, right. Sorry about that darling. Lead the way,” Rarity replied, quickly escaping the haze which had overcome her.
Together they began to walk, or trot, towards the stairs, their pace slow and deliberate.
“So,” Big Macintosh began. “You and Spike eh? How's that goin.”
“The wedding has been a bit hit or miss in the planning,” Rarity replied, pausing to give a rack of jarred fruit a wide berth. “I admit this whole situation has left me a little rattled but I think we’ll come out the other side a stronger couple.”
“That's good,” Big Macintosh remarked. “How's Spike takin it all?”
“Fine,” Rarity quickly replied. “He doesn't much appreciate being in a less athletic body, but it could be worse. At least I jog and do my stretches.”
“Sounds like a big change,” Big Macintosh offered, angling the barrel towards the stairs.
“Oh it was, and though this entire debacle is his fault I don't think it's all bad. At least now Spike will come to appreciate all the effort it takes to maintain a lady’s appearance,” Rarity exclaimed.
Big Macintosh silently raised an eyebrow as he began to back slowly up the stairs.
Rarity followed suit, allowing most of the weight to be angled back against her. The sudden increase was enough to make her almost panic for a moment, only for her muscles to save her once again. It took a bit of extra effort but like before, she found herself more than able to support the extra liquid which sloshed to the back of the barrel.
“I fear Spike has never truly grappled with all it takes to keep one’s appearance presentable,” Rarity explained as she waddled up the stairs, careful not to drop the cask. “Why the other day I thought he was going to leap out the window and all I had done was his mane.”
Upon reaching the top of the stairs, the cask, as well as the weight, levelled out and Rarity trotted out onto flat ground.
“Why? Ain't it his body for the moment?” Big Macintosh pressed.
Rarity scoffed. “You don't understand darling. I have an image to uphold, and expectation placed upon me. I know it isn't very fair, but that's simply how it is. Society expects me to look a certain way even if it isn't really my body anymore.”
The pair ambled out around the corner, with Big Macintosh stopping just long enough to adjust his one hooved grip before continuing on.
“I know it may sound silly to you but I’m unfortunately something of a public figure. If I, or my body didn't look their best the tabloids would eat me alive darling,” Rarity continued, releasing a soft, exasperated sigh. “Opinion of me would fall, as would business and I can't have that happening.”
Big Macintosh glanced down at Rarity’s hands expectantly.
“Oh this? Just a minor touch up to bring out Spike’s eyes,” Rarity replied. “He wasn't a fan of it but honestly his look could use a mare’s touch if you know what I mean.”
BIg Macintosh shook his head and snorted.
“Come now darling, even you must admit it was somewhat lacking,” Rarity pressed. “Why, he barely wore anything more than that ratty vest of his.”
That didn't seem to dissuade the stallion’s disappointment however and as they rounded a corner Rarity noticed the frown on his face.
“Like I said. I know it isn't exactly fair, but I explained this all to him, and he said he was perfectly okay with it all,” Rarity continued.
Big Macintosh shook his head as they rounded the final corner and began to make their way towards the barn in the distance.
“I really think you are blowing this out of proportion,” Rarity stressed. “It isn't for long, and it's not like I’m doing anything against Spike’s will.”
“It seems to me like you ain't-” Big Macintosh’s hoof splashed through a puddle, and a second later three things happened one after another.
Big Macintosh kept walking straight, Rarity leapt to the side in order to avoid the puddle, and the barrel sloshed due to the sudden movement. In an instant Big Macintosh found that the person who was supposed to be helping him was no longer doing so. Worse still, he was left overcompensated with his face over a large mud puddle.
One he became intimately familiar with a moment later when he fell directly into it.
The barrel landed first, causing a great wave of dirty water to shoot up into the air, and narrowly avoided Rarity. Who swiftly backpedaled out of the splash zone, returning a few seconds later to find the barrel undamaged. She also found Big Macintosh laying face down in the mud, his forehooves splayed and his clothes soaked.
“Oh goodness. I’m so sorry about that dear. Allow me to help you,” Rarity quickly exclaimed.
The former unicorn reflexively attempted to use her magic, but upon failing to lift the earth pony out using a spell, reached down. Gripping the back of his shirt, Rarity hoisted Big Macintosh out of the mud, allowing her to see his intensely frowning face. Though perhaps frown wasn't strong enough of a word, as he wore more of a scowl, the stallion’s forehead deeply wrinkled by his expression.
“Would you like a towel?” Rarity asked weakly.
Big Macintosh placed his hoove back under him, took a step back, and after wiping the mud from his face, walked forward. Then before Rarity had the chance to utter another question, the stallion rose up onto his back hooves and stared the dragon in the face.
“What I want is for you to get your head out of your keister,” Big Macintosh stated.
“What in Equestria are you talking about?” Rarity retorted.
“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” Big Macintosh replied. “You're real dang smart, and plenty kind, but it seems to me like your getting a bit too wrapped up in all that junk.”
“I don't know what it is your referring to,” Rarity muttered.
“You do,” Big Macintosh stated. “You know that makin the poor guy dress and act a certain way ain't right, and you know that not havin the same set of rules for yourself ain't right either. But I’ll tell ya something only I know.”
He leaned in close.
“If you don't start playing as a team, you’re not going to have a team,” Big Macintosh exclaimed. “Got it?”
“I…” Rarity frowned. “I think I understand.”
“Well think a little harder then,” Big Macintosh demanded, clopping a hoof upside the dragon’s head. “Yes us guys can be a might bit silly, but being a goof ain't sex specific. A fact you’ve proved right here today.”
“B-but,” Rarity began, only to be interrupted.
“But nothing,” Big Macintosh declared. “You’ve gotten a bit wrapped up in the job, and the wedding, and what you think it means to be a lady. Furthermore, you fear the loss of your femininity and are overcompensating. I mean pink? Come on, that doesn't work with Spike’s colors at all.”
Rarity sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Damn straight I am,” Big Macintosh exclaimed. “Your business has survived plenty of other things. Do you really think this is going to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back?”
“No,” Rarity admitted, shoulders slumping.
“Right, so here's what's going to happen,” Big Macintosh stated. “Yer going to stop trying so hard to act all prim and proper. Then yer going to carry those barrels to the barn yourself. And when yer done yer going to go home and apologize to Spike.”
“You are absolutely right,” Rarity murmured. “I suppose the stress of it all has made me fall back on habits I thought I kicked years ago.”
“It's alright to fall, just so long as we get back up again,” Big Macintosh finished.
Rarity smiled faintly. “Thank you Big Macintosh.”
“No problem,” replied the stallion.
“Though something tells me I am going to need a shower when I get home,” Rarity murmured, glancing at the mud covering her shoulder and dripping down her chest. “Not a problem. It's just mud.”
Big Macintosh smiled. “Eeyup.”
Rarity stepped out of the barn, and placed her hands onto her lower back, pushing just enough to make it pop. Wincing briefly, Rarity’s pained expression quickly turned into one of utter satisfaction. That was despite the fact that she was covered in sweat, grime, and more than a little bit of dried mud.
The door to the large outbuilding closed with a thunk, Big Macintosh giving it a jiggle before walking over to Rarity.
“How ya feelin?” asked the stallion.
“Like a million bits,” Rarity exclaimed. “I think I understand Spike a little better now, and not only his love of the gym.”
Big Macintosh nodded slowly.
“I don't suppose you have anything else you need moved by chance do you?” Rarity inquired.
Big Macintosh blinked, and glanced briefly to the setting sun then back down to the dragon.
“Err right. I suppose I should be getting home. It has been a few hours since I left,” Rarity exclaimed.
The stallion chuckled.
“Either way before I go I must thank you for your help,” Rarity exclaimed, extending a hand. “I really needed someone to kick me out of the funk I’ve been in. It feels like I’m seeing clearly for the first time since this entire debacle began.”
Big Macintosh nodded, and placed his hoof in the dragon’s grip, shaking the offered limb vigorously.
“Perhaps I’ll even keep up with Spike’s routine,” Rarity mused.
“One thing at a time,” Big Macintosh warned.
Rarity chuckled and took a step away, dropping the stallion’s hoof. “Quite right darling. And that first thing is to find some nail polish remover.”
Big Macintosh smiled.
“Though perhaps a shower is in order first,” Rarity murmured, lifting an arm. “I never knew dragons could even get this stinky.”
The stallion rolled his eyes.
“Well enough dragging my heels. Thank you again darling, and have a wonderful rest of your day,” Rarity exclaimed.
“You too,” Big Macintosh replied, watching as Rarity began to walk away.
After the dragon was out of sight, Big Macintosh trotted over to the front porch, where Applejack sat quietly. After plunking down in the available seat, Big Macintosh took the extra mug and sipped the warm cider.
“Ya get through to her?” Applejack asked, though it was clear she already knew the answer.
“Eeyup,” Big Macintosh replied.
“Think they’ll make it?” Applejack pressed.
Big Macintosh shrugged. “Maybe.”