//------------------------------// // Tailoring the Conversation // Story: The Rustic and The Romantic // by TheLastBrunnenG //------------------------------// The little yellow filly wiped two dripping-wet hooves on her oversized red bow, sliding the last clean supper dish into the drain. “Sure was nice o’ Miss Rarity to help fix dinner tonight, weren’t it, big sis?” Applejack patiently removed the dish, dried it, and slid it into an overhead cabinet, smiling all the while. “Sure was, AB! Mighty nice o’ her.” “Miss Rarity’s been havin’ dinner with us almost every night, ain’t she?” Applebloom asked, glancing at her sister. “Yep. That ain’t a problem, is it, AB?” “Nope!” The filly added as a massive grin took over her muzzle, “And you been smilin’ a lot more, too. Ever since Miss Rarity started comin’ over all the time by herself, not just with all your other friends, you been happier’n a pig on clean-out-the-cupboard day! Is that ‘cause she’s gonna have yer foals, sis?” Though the evening meal had long since ended, Applejack’s craw found something somewhere deep down to dredge up and choke on. “W… What? AB, that ain’t how it works!” “How what works, sis?” “Foals, ya little… foal! It – you just don’t – oh, sweet Celestia, I gotta sit down fer this one.” The orange mare sank back into a chair at the unadorned wooden kitchen table, panting heavily and eyes wide. Applebloom pulled a chair up next her sister, perched like a vulture who’d spied her next meal. “Is it time for the birds an’ bees talk, Applejack? ‘Cause Alula asked ‘bout where foals come from in class last week an’ Miss Cheerilee said we should ask our parents about havin’ the birds an’ bees talk.” Her bow and her eyes drooped a little as she continued, “I asked Mac but he got all quiet an’ stopped movin’ for like an hour, then he mumbled somethin’ and it sounded like ‘Ah’m gonna have to owe ya one, AJ’. I tried askin’ Granny too but she thought I was askin’ bout chickens an’ bugs. You’re my big sister, Applejack, but you’re the closest thing I got to a momma, so – can I ask you?” Sweat trickled down the farmer’s temples. “You sure ‘bout this, AB? ‘Cause I can put it off ‘till another day, if’n you like.” “Nope! Chores’re done and so is my homework, and Granny’s done settled in fer her evenin’ nap, so this here’s the best time I got. Is Miss Rarity gonna be in our family too, sis? Am I gonna get a new big sister? Or is she gonna be my new momma? Does that mean she’s gonna be your momma an’ Mac’s too?” “Hoo-wee,” Applejack sighed as she wiped her brow, “is it a dang sight hotter in here, Applebloom? I cain’t quite think straight.” Red bow flailing as she shook her head, the filly responded, “Breeze feels fine to me, sis! Now are you gonna tell me ‘bout where foals come from, an’ what Miss Rarity has to do with it?” Applejack started slowly, voice low and eyes glazed as she stared off into the distance. “Well, you see AB, when a mare and a stallion really love each other, they kinda - well , they, uh…” “They do a special hug, right? And then a lotta months later a foal or two comes outta the mare.” The elder sister seemed to perk up and she started to bolt from the creaking chair. “Well, AB, sounds like you sure know yer stuff! Guess we’re done here, okay?” “No way, sis! I wanna know about that there special hug! ‘Cause I hug lotsa ponies I love, and ain’t none of ‘em ever had a new foal afterwards. So what’s so special about that hug? If that’s where foals come from, does it work if there ain’t a stallion, just two mares? Is it like the hugs you been givin’ Miss Rarity in the barn? Applejack, is Miss Rarity really gonna have yer foals in a couple o’ months?” A twitch began to develop in Applejack’s eye, a peculiar facial tic she’d only ever seen on a certain white unicorn when the Cutie Mark Crusaders offered to help her with dressmaking. Her drawl slowed to a crawl and she turned to look at her diminutive sibling as if she were a coiled viper. “Okay, let’s take this real slow and real easy, AB. Yep, it takes a stallion and a mare to make foals, and it does involve that, uh, special hug. It ain’t the kinda hug you’re givin’ to folks at the family reunion, or to them Crusaders – at least, I dang sure hope not. No, two mares cain’t make foals. Don’t go askin’ Miss Twilight ‘bout that, ‘cause she’ll probably say magic can do some funny stuff, but normally, the answer’s no.” Drawing in a sharp breath, she put her forehooves on the table and leaned in a little closer to the rapt filly. “So that means no matter what kinda hugs you think you saw me tradin’ with Miss Rarity in the barn, she ain’t gonna have my foals, you got that?” Getting a slow and deliberate nod from the yellow pony, she exhaled for what felt like the first time in hours. “Now, just ‘cause two mares cain’t have foals o’ their own, don’t mean they cain’t fall in love, or get married, or none o’ that.” Applebloom furrowed her brow and stared at the time-worn tabletop for a few seconds before looking up expectantly. “So, um, sis? Are you an’ Miss Rarity marefriends, like… like all romantic an’ stuff? Like havin’ a coltfriend, but… but she just ain’t a colt?” It was the orange mare’s turn to deliver a slow and deliberate nod of her own. “Are you in love with Miss Rarity, Applejack?” Applejack’s eyes grew wet for a moment and a grin wider than the North Orchard graced her muzzle. “Sure am, AB! Sure as sunshine.” The little filly took Applejack’s hooves in her own and began to bounce in her seat. “So are you an’ Miss Rarity gonna get married? Is she gonna be my sister too? Can I be in the weddin’? Can we invite Sweetie an Scootaloo an’ Babs? Can - ” “Whoa, there, filly! Slow down. Yep, one day, ‘fore too long, I’m gonna make Miss Rarity into Miss Rarity Apple. She don’t know it yet, an’ I gotta pick just the right time, ‘cause I wanna do it real proper-like. An’ when we do, we’ll find a place in the weddin’ for everypony , don’t you worry your pretty little head.” She drew the hopping filly into a warm embrace and kissed her forehead. “Now if I’m like a momma to you, AB, then that’s how I want you treatin’ Miss Rarity, hear? An’ if I catch you callin’ her Momma Rarity ‘fore I’m ready, I’ll toss yer hide in the creek, got it?”