“Mighty kind o’ Princess Celestia to lend us her personal carriage for our honeymoon trip!” Applejack clinked her glass against Rarity’s, its champagne long since drained and refilled with Apple Acres’ finest cider. “One o’ many, I guess, but still a right nice weddin’ present. And them pegasus guards looked mighty fine, too! Gold armor gleamin’ in the sun an’ all. Sure was nice of ‘em to watch over the ceremony, too.”
Rarity smiled and arched an eyebrow. “Developing an eye for fine stallions now, my dear?” She traced a hoof across the gold ring dangling from her new bride’s necklace. “A little late for that, I believe.”
“Nah, I ain’t got eyes for nopony except over-dramatic small-town seamstress types.” Applejack reached down to kiss the flawless white hoof and set her glass aside. “Especially that hot one in Ponyville with the diamonds on ‘er flank.”
She began to kiss her way up the hoof, hot breath from her muzzle warming the soft fur of the perfect foreleg in her hooves, pausing only to ascend the alabaster neck whose every curve and contour she knew so well. A low moan from the unicorn was followed by a hoof to her own chest, pushing her slowly but firmly away. “Now, now, AJ, my love, be patient!” Rarity took a deep and shuddering breath while holding the farmer at arm’s length. “It’s but a twenty minute ride to the skyship port, you know. It’s a six hour flight to Prance for the honeymoon, and we’ll have a private cabin for the trip. We’ll have plenty of time for this,“ she said as she leapt into a brief but fiery and wine-tingled kiss, “later.”
Near breathless, the orange mare bit her lip and sat back, grinning. “That a promise, sugarcube? I’ll dang sure be holdin’ you to it, then.” She reached for her glass, lifting it in toast and added, “In the meantime, hon, if I ain’t said it before – welcome to the Apple family!”
“To family, then!” Rarity drained the little remaining in her own glass and lay back against the carriage’s gilded seats. A distant and wistful look shone in her eyes. “I’m glad the Apple clan could make it to the wedding. I was afraid asking them to gather again so soon after the last family reunion would appear too great a burden.”
“Naw, they’s all family, and that’s what we do. The Apples’re a close family, if a little spread out.”
“I am glad we could tie the knot while your dear Granny is still with us, AJ.” Rarity sighed and stared out the carriage’s half-shuttered window. “My own grandmother passed away some years ago. I doubt Grandma Finery would have approved of our union, though. She was a city mare through and through. Detested the ‘country life’ and earth ponies in general, I’m quite sorry to say. Now, Great Grandmother Filigree was a different story – wise and honest, no-nonsense yet always kindly. She lived in Manhattan almost all her life but I remember her telling stories about her father. We came from a line of miners, did I ever tell you that?”
“Miners, Rare? Seriously? That would explain part of the gem-findin’ skill, I guess. All farmers on my side. Granddad Baldwin died before Mac and I came along, but Granny Smith’ll tell the family story to any pony unlucky enough to ask. Lessee, how’d it go? Great Granddad Stayman and his dad Newton were ornery cusses, all mean streak and no give. Newton hisself was a bandit, they say, doin’ more robbin’ than farmin’. And his poppa Foxwhelp weren’t no prize, neither – a real pushover and gullible as a blind goat, if’n Granny told the stories right.”
Lights of passing stars above and passing towns below reflected in Rarity’s azure eyes as she continued staring out the window. She put a hoof to her chin and squinted a little as she said, “Well, I can’t recall tales of banditry from my own ancestors, or anything else exciting, for that matter. Great-Great Grandfather Steelton was one of the miners, you see. Great Grandmother Filigree was one of almost a dozen foals of his, and they saw him only infrequently. His own father, Cobalt Scratch, was a miner as well. Neither were well off, so I’m told, though they managed. They lost track of many of the uncles and aunts and the family tree is a bit muddy before that point.”
Easing an arm around the unicorn, Applejack chucked gently. “Funny you should mention muddied-up family trees, Rare. I do remember Granny tellin’ stories ‘bout the family line before Great-great-great Grandpa Foxwhelp. See, the way the old story goes, Foxwhelp’s daddy weren’t no Apple at all. What was the fella’s name? Spartan, that was it, and his poppa Redstreak. I heard long years ago that Spartan and Redstreak were from some other clan entirely, but their momma had a fallin’ out with her folk, and changed all their names to Apple. That’s where the Apple family began – kicked outta some other family for Celestia-knows-what, some seven or eight generations back.”
From ahead of them a strong voice called out, “Touchdown at skyship port in five minutes, repeat, ETA at port is five minutes.”
Rarity started to speak, stopped abruptly, then spoke slowly. “That’s odd. Aunt Demiglace once told me a similar story. Before Great-great-great Grandfather Cobalt, the line sprung out of nowhere because the family name was invented out of whole cloth. Before him came a stallion named Carbon or Graphite or something, and before him was a mare named Jacinth… something. Jacinth Clutter, maybe? Mother was Topaz, if I remember, and it’s the same story. Had family problems and left to start her own branch. Dreadful development, but so long ago, no pony alive remembers what the issue could have been.”
Applejack turned to face Rarity and furrowed her brow. “Rarity – how’d you know about Topaz?”
Confusion showed on Rarity’s face as her gaze left the window and locked on her wife. “How did I know what, dear?”
“About Topaz Clutter. That’s the mare Granny said started the whole Apple clan, when she left her old family and…” Applejack’s eyes grew wide and her voice dropped to a loud whisper. “Rare – did Jacinth Clutter’s momma come from a small town past th’ Appleloosan Hills, a village by the name o’…”
Their voices echoed in chorus, “Windy Pass.”
The rushing of air past the windows and the steady flap of pegasus wings fell away as an eerie, palpable silence overtook the carriage. Seconds dragged by like hours before the orange mare gulped audibly. “Rares, please say you ain’t thinkin’ what I’m thinkin.”
A twitch began in the unicorn’s eye. “That we may have just un-forked our family trees? I’m afraid I am thinking exactly that, dearest Applejack.”
“So that makes us, what, exactly?” Applejack reached for her near-empty glass but found it snatched away by a flash of magic.
Rarity drained it in a single shuddering swallow. “Eighth cousins, by marriage, twice removed. Twilight could check my math but I believe that’s the essence of it.”
“But no blood relations, right, sugar?”
“None. Though let us promise never to see this mapped out, shall we?”
With a gentle rumble the carriage alit in a wide, flat plain, where a large skyship could be seen lowering a boarding ramp in the distance. “Departure in sixty seconds,” called the pegasus drivers as the Royal Carriage began rolling to a stop.
“Done. Like I said, sugarcube – welcome to the Apple family! Or, uh, welcome back, anyway.”