//------------------------------// // Saturday evening // Story: The Refrigerator Light // by Petrichord //------------------------------// Applejack curled her hoof around a cup of hot chocolate, saying nothing. Ember copied her in a nearly perfect mirror, occasionally taking a sip and letting out a satisfied sigh. “You weren’t kidding. This is really good.” Applejack didn’t say anything. Instead, her slightly unfocused eyes were fixed on a spot vaguely to the right of Ember, cocoa virtually untouched. “...Hey, Applejack.” Silence. “Dragonlands to Applejack, are you there? Hello?” Ember waved a claw in front of Applejack’s face. Startled, Applejack jolted back a bit, just barely avoiding spilling any cocoa onto the table. “Ah! Sorry, that…sorry, sugarcube” Applejack replied. “Jes’...thinking. You know how it is.” “Kinda? But I don’t know what you’re thinking about. Something on your mind?” Applejack chewed her lip, then took a sip of her cocoa, readjusted her hat, and took another sip. “...I dunno. It’s…” Ember arched an eyebrow. “It’s…what? What’s ‘it,’ anyway?” Applejack lifted her head. “...You liked the clearing, huh?” “Yeah.” Ember grinned. “Worth the walk. Definitely a shame we had to come back, but better to do that before it gets dark. Fumbling around in this part of who-knows-where without a flashlight sounds like a good way to trip over a tree root.” “Or get attacked by Timberwolves.” Applejack drained her coca, set her cup down and stood up. “Want me to top you off on cocoa?” “You better believe it.” Ember sat back in her chair. “And hey, you’re forgetting again—dragon, remember? Timberwolves are basically just kindling waiting to happen.” Applejack snorted in amusement as she walked towards a saucepan on the stove. “You realize that sounds like a couple of stray sparks away from ‘the whole dang forest’s kindling waiting to happen,’ right?” “Not my fault you live in the middle of a fireplace.” Ember poked her tongue out at Applejack playfully. “Speaking of, want me to go out and get more wood? Or do you figure what we brought in was enough?” “It should last the evening. I wouldn’t object to a smidge more kindling, though.” Applejack chuckled softly. “Consider it the cost of the cocoa?” “How mercenary of you.” Ember stretched, then stood up. “You’re sounding more like a proper dragon every day.” “Learned from the best!” Applejack replied, grabbing the saucepan and carefully pouring its contents into her cup. “Darn straight you did.” Miming tipping an invisible hat, Ember spun on her heel and headed out again, grabbing the shovel by the fireplace as she left. The chill air was there to greet her as she crossed the threshold, and the sun lingered only to bid her adieu. With a discontented sigh, Ember headed out towards the treeline, shoveled up a load of twigs, leaves and detritus, and headed back inside as quickly as possible. She didn’t notice what Applejack looked like as she stepped inside with the shovel. She didn’t see Applejack’s expression as she dumped the kindling into the log-filled fireplace. But when she set the shovel down near the fireplace and turned back towards the table, she saw Applejack sitting there, staring off into space again, cocoa cup by her hoof completely unattended to. With a soft huff, Ember waved her claw in front of Applejack’s face. “Hey! Wakey-wakey.” “Ah! Sugarcube, you really gotta stop doin’ that.” Applejack started in her seat, blinked, then took an almost forced-looking sip of her cocoa. “Thank you for fetchin’ that, though.” Ember sighed. “Okay, do we need to have a talk?” “A talk?” Applejack paused. “About…” “Look, I’m aware that this is a pony and/or a teen thing. There’s clearly something that’s taking up all of your headspace, you clearly want to talk about it, but you feel like for whatever reason you can’t talk about it—” “I don’t need—” “Sure, whatever. You’re grown up, I’m grown up, we both know what to do with ourselves.” “We do, don’t we?” Ember stared at Applejack, who was affecting a curiously strained smile. “Uh…yeah. We do.” “Right, right, ‘course…right.” Applejack took another mechanical sip of her cocoa and forced the smile again. “I guess I’m just…fatigued. The cold weather, y’know? Sucks the life outta you.” Ember snorted, leaning back in her chair. “If I didn’t like you as much as I do, I’d order you to spill the goods.” “Ah don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” “Okay! Sure! Whatever.” Ember turned around, took a deep breath and spat a gout of flame into the fireplace, turning it from solemn wood into a crackling blaze in seconds. “It’s going to spoil the night, though. You sure you want—” “Ah!” Applejack stood up. Ember looked up at Applejack, who abruptly looked sheepish. “Criminy, I just realized…the mix should be just about ready.” Applejack trotted over to the refrigerator. “Hol’ on real quick. Got to get dinner in the oven afore it stops homogenizin’ and starts to get all sour.” “Sure you do.” Ember leaned back in her seat again. “This had better be good.” “This…whoof.” Ember set her fork down and pushed her plate away. “Anycreature ever tell you you’re an amazing cook?” Applejack chuckled. “Well, you do, for a start.” “It should be more than just me!” Ember gestured vaguely. “It should be all your family, and all your friends, and all your friends’ family, and…everycreature, seriously.” Applejack’s body relaxed slightly. “Shucks. Thanks, Ember.” “Hey, I offer compliments when compliments are due. Never earlier, never later.” Ember took a sip at the remnants of her cocoa. “And my only regrets are that I don’t have the physical stomach capacity to ask for thirds.” “I can bundle up the rest for you” Applejack scooted out of her seat and stood up. “Give you somethin’ to enjoy later on.” “Eh. You said this…mystery mash, or whatever it was…was just as good for ponies as it was for dragons. I loved it, don’t get me wrong, but the less I have to carry back tomorrow the better.” Applejack winced as if she’d just been lightly slapped. “Ah…right. Makes sense.” Ember stared at Applejack. Applejack quietly sat back down, then looked back at Ember. “...Hey, funny story.” Ember started. “You said you wouldn’t know until tonight whether or not something you did was perfect.” “Uh? I…did I?” “Yeah.” Ember arched an eyebrow. “Sooooooo…” “I’d…say it went well.” A little puff of smoke drifted out of Ember’s nostrils as her shadow danced in the firelight. “You don’t sound like you’ve convinced even yourself, much less me.” “It’s…shucks. It’s about the clearing, that’s all!” Applejack sat up in her chair and spread her forelegs. “That was what I meant. I wanted to know whether the time we spent there was perfect, that’s all.” “Oh.” Ember leaned slightly over the table, plunking her elbows down near the silverware she hadn’t touched. “So…final verdict on that, doc? Everything you wanted?” “That’s the thing! That’s the question, I…” Applejack shook her head. “I can’t think of a way it coulda gone better. It was everything I was hoping for. Even the weather cooperated, if just for a smidge! If that ain’t the definition of perfect, I don’t know what is.” “Well…if it’s honestly everything you wanted, then I dunno what to tell you. You still seem like something’s up, though.” “I know! So I should feel like everything’s right as rain, shouldn’t I? Everythin’ came up all kinds of roses, an’ all that. But it just feels like somethin’s…missing, I guess.” “I see.” Applejack gulped. “I swear on my hat that’s the truth, Ember.” “Oh, I don’t doubt that statement was true. Honestly, I buy it one hundred percent. That said…” Ember pointed a talon at Applejack. “I know dinner was great and all, but could you do me a favor?” Applejack swallowed again. “I reckon that depends on the favor.” “I’m gonna need to…sorry, I mean, would it be okay if I borrowed a pencil and some paper? I’m not gonna waste or trash it, I promise.” “Oh! Sure, sure.” Applejack blinked and stood up again. “What for?” “Personal stuff.” Ember’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Nothing insulting to or bad about you, but nothing you’d enjoy, either.” “Uh…okay. Sure.” Applejack turned, opened up a shelf next to her, pulled out a pencil with her teeth and set it on the table. “How much paper?” “Five pages or so? Not tons, but more than two or three.” Ember leaned over and grabbed the pencil. Silently, Ember waited until Applejack pulled out a small mouthful of papers and set them on the table where the pencil had been, then grabbed the papers as Applejack turned back one last time to shut the shelf. Quietly, Ember got to work: starting with what looked like an outline, an abridged table of contents, and headers for each page. Her eyes flicked from one sheet to the next, scribbled something out on one page, jotted down something else, then turned back to the first page and added more notes. “Hey, I know I said I wasn’t going to waste paper, but can I grab it from the drawer if I need more?” “Sure.” Applejack paused for a couple of moments as Ember continued to take notes, before speaking up again. “Hey, Ember?” “Yeah?” “I’m…sorry about actin’ out of it earlier. That weren’t…that wasn’t good of me to do, was it?” “No.” Ember sighed. “But there’s a question at the end of the apology, isn’t it?” “Shucks.” Applejack chuckled, softly and without any sort of cheer. “...What’cha writing?” “I really don’t think you want to know.” Applejack’s brow creased. “Why wouldn’t I? If it’s somethin’ I did wrong—” “It’s not.” Ember leaned back and set her pencil down on the table again. “It’s a draft of laws and edicts I’m going to need to flesh out when I get back.” “Oh.” “There’s a lot of fleshing out that needs to be done when I get home, but it’d really help me to have a cursory draft so I can expand on it more while I’m in the Dragonlands.” Ember’s tail twitched as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Plus, while I know they’re probably going to be close to useless, getting at least some feedback from my subjects while I’m there is going to be important. Y’know, because what’s the point of a ruler who can’t actually rule responsibly? I’d be no better than my former thick-headed contender for the crown.” “Uh huh.” “Point is, there’s a lotta work to set up there. And that’s just for end-of-year prep, since I’m also gonna need to—” “Y’know, hon,” Applejack cut in, “You said they’d all be close to useless, right? Talkin’ to your subjects?” “...Yes. I did, in fact, say that.” Ember ground her tailtip against the floor. “Your point?” “My point is that it seems like it wouldn’t be a bother for you to work someplace more comfortable—” “I knew it” Ember snapped. “I knew you were getting at this.” “At what?” “Oh, don’t try to play innocent with me. Look, a schedule is a schedule—” “I’m just sayin’ that it might be more efficient—” “Is this how we’re going to have the conversation?” Ember stood up. “Because I was wondering if we should have had it some time ago, but then I just figured you had everything under control.” “I have no idea what you’re gettin’ at.” Applejack stood up, glaring at Ember. “But I reckon that throwin’ blind accusations at your host ain’t good—” “Blind? There’s nothing blind about it. Look.” Ember grabbed the first page off of the table and waved it in the air. “Get home. Start basic summary of kingdom analysis as a whole. Survey subjects. Draft tentative reforms and revisions to pre-existing law. Prepare end-of-year goals and speech—” “I get it! Work’s work, lands’ sakes, I know that!” Applejack snapped. “You ain’t gotta continue.” “—Give speech, signal end of year, begin processions to roll in new year, search for supplementary regent candidates, divide administrative responsibility—” “Things you could do remotely, with letters—” “—observe measurable schedule of changes, organize administration for rulership in absentia, outline further reforms if necessary—” “An’ still you keep on with torturin’ yourself—” “This isn’t about me!” Ember slammed the paper down on the table, hard enough to rattle the remaining silverware. “I’m doing this for everydragon else, which is my responsibility—” “Responsibilities that your good ol’ predecessor never worked on!” Applejack fired back, glaring defiantly at Ember. “Don’t get on your high horse with me. You could be just the dragon he was—” “He was garbage at this!” Ember spread her arms. “I’ve inherited nothing but jingoism and rubble! I’m not trying to just be as good as he was. I’m not trying to measure up with dragon standards at all! I want to actually be good at running things, good by pony standards, which is something I figured you’d appreciate.” “I’d appreciate if you didn’t spend all your energy on a buncha slackjawed lizards who wouldn’t lift a pebble to build a road if they didn’t feel like it!” Applejack snarled. “The work’s not making you happy, and you know it.” “You know what isn’t making me happy? Life.” Ember spat, walking right up next to Applejack. “Either I break my back for a bunch of flame-happy ingrates, or I break bread with them and pass up a chance to do something meaningful. I wallow in their ignorance or I wallow in the ruination I failed to do anything about. The difference between wearing the crown or not is that I get to make that choice, and I am not going to stand here and have somepony tell me my goals are hopeless and stupid.” “I never said that!” Applejack craned her neck up towards Ember’s face. “You implied it.” “I didn’t imply diddly squat, okay? Don’t make this be about yourself.” “Wha—how is this not about myself?” Ember sputtered incredulously. “That’s the whole reason you invited me up here, isn’t it?” “So I could get a chance to see you for a last coupla days!” “Because I have work to do.” “How in the danged blazes are you actin’ like this is just casual work?” Applejack’s sudden, much louder outburst shocked Ember into silence. “You think I’m the only one who acts like they’ve got things up in their headspace? You think I’m the only one bein’ cagey about how this plays out? Horse apples, Em!” Applejack roared. “You’re just hidin’ all your feelings behind ‘I gotta do this, I gotta do that, this ain’t no issue, this don’t mean nothing.’ ” “Because I have things I need to do—” “Beecus I have feengs I gotta do” Applejack parroted back, tone flipping from angry to snide and back to angry again. “An’ those things mean that you’re gonna flap off to some craggy buttcheek end of the world, and who knows when we’ll get to see each other again?” “I—” “Yeah, yeah, you got plans. Plans change, ‘specially when you care mightily about somethin’. Maybe you’ll be gone for…what, until Winter Wrap-up? Months later, if things get slightly complicated. Maybe years later if things get more than slightly complicated. Or maybe you’ll have some big accident, or get wrapped up in a world-changing shindig, or some other calamity will happen beyond your control, and then ‘months’ turns into ‘never.’ An’ don’t try to pretend to me you ain’t at least thought of that.” Ember answered with damning, deafening silence. “Thought so.” Applejack exhaled, abruptly looking much smaller. “But I gotta be the villain here ‘cause I can’t blame things endin’ on account of other folks countin’ on me. I don’t get that excuse.” “We can…” Ember started, blinking a little harder than was necessary. “It’s not over.” “Can you guarantee that?” Ember shrunk back. “Thought so. Again.” Applejack’s voice cracked. “Y’know, it’s kinda funny. In the past, we had ignorance, an’ in the future we’ll have answers. But the only thing we got now, the only thing I can see? Uncertainty. Ain’t a whole lot to build a pairing on, really.” “I don’t…” Ember gulped. “Want that. I’m trying to make things concrete so—” “You’ve got a perfect idea for how things should be. You can picture it in your head, I know that.” Applejack’s voice cracked a little harder. “But you don’t know exactly how all the steps go. An’ because you don’t know all the exact steps, it ain’t a foolproof plan, and since it ain’t a foolproof plan there’s always gonna be something that can throw you off that you ain’t accounted for.” “I know” Ember pleaded. “Do you think that I would be trying as hard as I am to make things foolproof if I didn’t care about coming back?” “I…” Applejack wiped an eye with her hoof. “I know.” “Yeah, I…I know you know.” Awkward, heavy silence hung between them. “This whole thing…I wanted it to be perfect so dang bad” Applejack finally said. “But it never coulda been, could it? ‘Cause things would always…we’d always have had to talk about this, one way or another.” “Acknowledge this whole thing was…” Ember trailed off. “Yeah…” The silence returned. Ember took a deep breath, picked up the first page again and took another look at it. Then set it down again. “Six months. It’s just supposed to be six months. I want to try really, really hard to make it be just six months.” “I know.” “And…it’s hard to think about. Especially with the…” This time, it was Ember’s voice that cracked. “I thought you had things so under control that we wouldn’t need to have this stupid fight about it.” “It ain’t a fight.” “Then why are we both ticked off?” Ember sputtered. “I am. You are. We both know it.” Applejack took a deep breath, but said nothing. “And now I get to be the bad guy. I…I hate that so much, you know that?” Ember tried to mimic Applejack’s breathing, but her effort was shaky and hardly even a breath at all. “I get to be the one at fault, and I…I can’t even disagree with that idea.” “Maybe you aren’t.” Ember laughed; a short, sharp bark with no warmth in it at all. “Then, what, you think it’s you?” “Maybe it ain’t either of us.” “Then why does this hurt?” Applejack didn’t reply. Briefly, she reached up, as if trying to comfort Ember; then her hoof drooped back down again. Abruptly, Ember snorted. “Maybe if we said goodbye for real it would be easier. At least we’d know everything’s done for sure.” “Do you want that?” Applejack replied softly. “No.” Ember shook her head. “Never.” It was Applejack’s turn to snort derisively. “Maybe if we’d never said hello in the first place, things woulda been happier. At least we’d never have to talk like this.” Ember’s tailtip twitched. “Do you really believe that?” “Nope.” Applejack shook her head slightly. “Not even a smidge.” Ember walked back over to her seat, slumped down quietly and stared at the table with her head in her claws. “I hate this. I hate everything about this.” Softly, Applejack took a step back from the table. “I do, too.” “I’m sorry.” Ember sniffed. “I’m…so, so sorry about how this feels right now.” Applejack coughed, then snorted. “It’s…I mean, it’s…not like I shouldn’t have expected it.” Ember looked up, trying for a moment to make eye contact with Applejack, before realizing she lost any energy she might have had for it minutes ago. “...If you need to cry, I won’t judge.” “Not on the outside. Not in front of company, anyway.” Applejack took another breath. “ ‘course, if you want to…” “A dragon, crying in front of other ponies about something as silly as love?” Ember smiled bitterly. “I’d never hear the end of it. Especially from my own puffed-up ego.” “Heh.” Applejack cleared her throat. “Fair enough.” “I can…” Ember paused. “...I can get this done with as fast as we can, if you want. So we could play a game, or cuddle, or drink, or…” Applejack shook her head. “It’s been a day. It’s ‘specially been an evening, an’ you’ve got important work to do. You should focus on doin’ it right. And I…reckon I’m feeling kinda exhausted and should probably sleep.” “Oh.” Ember paused. “You…you do that. That’s a good idea. I’ll get this finished, put out the fire, then maybe tomorrow…” “Yeah.” Applejack turned and started trotting down the hallway, before looking back up at Ember. “Em…” “Yeah?” “...Guest bedroom’s the next one over from the bathroom, if you wanted to sleep alone tonight. I can respect that.” “...Thanks. I…I appreciate you offering that.” Ember picked up the pencil and squeezed it between her talons. “We’ll see how I’m feeling after I get this properly written up.” Applejack nodded, finished her trek down the hallway and opened the door to her bedroom. Ember looked away and tried her best to focus solely on her notes as she heard Applejack shut the door. It took Ember a couple of minutes to start writing again.