//------------------------------// // Cherchez la Mare // Story: Black and White and Red All Over // by SuperGiantRobot //------------------------------// Zecora returned to Sweet Apple Acres just as the sun was beginning to set, Applejack was still working alongside her brother in the grove. As she had when Zecora had set out, she took a short break, this time to welcome her back. Macintosh stopped what he was doing to lope over and join his sister. “Done enough travellin’, Zecora?” she asked. “Didja enjoy yerself?” “At first I enjoyed it, I have to admit, but I soon reached a point where I said ‘That is it’. At a point up the path, the ground turns to stone and though there were houses, I felt all alone. I then came upon three well-dressed ponies there: one friendly, one rude, the third seemed not to care. I frightened the friendly and angered the rude, the third one just watched, no change in attitude. I was clearly unwelcome so I chose to quit and return to your farm, that’s the whole truth of it.” Applejack sighed sadly. “Yeah, that was Poshton Estates you reached. I’ve been there once and that was one time too many. I still can't believe how rude them's that live there are; one of 'em actually referred to me as an 'inbred hick' to his friend an' made sure I 'accidentally' heard him, too. Had'ta physically stop myself from kickin' his face in. Turnin' 'round an' comin' back was probably fer the best. I take a path that avoids the place entirely if I ever need go that way. Takes me a bit longer to get where I'm goin', but spares me the grief as well." Applejack sighed again. "I’m sorry, Zecora; I should have warned you, but I didn't think you'd travel that far. S'no excuse, though. I ruined yer trip an' I'm sorry.” Zecora shook her head in refusal of Applejack's apology and gave her friend a small smile. “Don’t worry, my friend, I’d have turned back anyway. My plan was only to travel for one single day. Evening’s darkness approaches and furthermore, I admit that my hooves are becoming sore. So I return to my forest and my hut deep inside, but I traveled beyond it, and I can say this with pride!” “Well, I’m glad you got out fer a bit; never hurts to take a stroll from time ta time,” replied Applejack, smiling. Zecora was about to reply when her eyes suddenly widened. She turned her head slightly to the right and then raised it higher and higher still to take in Macintosh, who was suddenly standing beside Applejack. The stallion was even bigger than she'd thought, and he was already one of the biggest ponies she'd ever seen, even from a distance. His barrel was almost level with her eyes. She couldn't believe somepony so large could move so quietly, either; one moment she was talking with Applejack, the next a mountain of a stallion was standing beside her as if by magic. Macintosh looked down at her and gave a lazy but friendly grin. Without even turning her head, Applejack nudged Macintosh in the ribs. "Well, don't just stand there lookin' at her, y’big lug; introduce yerself." Macintosh shook his head slightly and spoke in his deep, calm voice. "Sorry, sis. Sorry, ma'am. My name is Macintosh, but you can call me 'Big Mac', or just 'Mac' if’n ya want. Everypony else does." Ewe mungu wangu.... They must feed him foals... Zecora stood agape, nearly as shocked as Pinebreeze had been at her appearance. A moment later she remembered herself; she was being as rude as others when they stared at her. "I’m sorry, Macintosh, I didn’t mean to stare, I'm afraid that you simply caught me unaware. I’ve not seen the like, nopony your size. Your appearance came to me as quite a surprise!" “Aw, don’t worry ‘bout it; I get that quite a bit,” replied Macintosh. “I am pretty big fer my age, after all...” He chuckled quietly. Applejack spoke up. “You say yer feeling a mite sore from yer travels? Well, shoot; why don’tcha jus’ stay the night? We got plenty enough room fer a guest, an’ Apple Bloom’d be happier than a clam at high tide to have ya here. Dinner’s ‘bout ready to start anyway an’ I bet yer hungry.” Zecora agreed to stay; her legs were sorer from her travels then she had admitted, she hadn't really eaten today and it would be rude to turn down an invitation once given. She also felt that strange interest in Macintosh when she’d first seen him return, this interest having grown in strength upon meeting him personally and learning his name. She wanted to explore this further, now that the option availed itself. Macintosh’s ears shot straight up when he heard Zecora accept Applejack’s invitation. He turned to his sister and gave her a look as the zebra headed to the house. Applejack winked. “Hey, I had ta give you an openin’, big brother; don’t say I ain’t lookin’ out fer ya...” Macintosh sighed, smiled slightly and followed their guest to dinner. After the Apple family gave their evening thanks and commenced eating, Zecora noticed Macintosh giving her furtive glances and, when she looked back, he blushed and tried to look innocent. Zecora smiled to herself. Suddenly, she felt another pair of eyes on her. The oldest pony she had ever seen, with a green coat and a bone-white mane tied up in a bun was giving her a steady and remarkably sharp-eyed look, belying her somewhat sleepy appearance. The old mare gave her a kindly smile, her entire face creasing up into a series of laugh lines and Zecora gave her a deep bow of her head. This was clearly the family matriarch and deserving of as much respect as she could give. “Heh. Pretty and well-mannered,” the green mare whispered to herself. Zecora cheeks went very slightly pink, her sharp hearing having picked up her comment. Speaking aloud, Granny Smith introduced herself to Zecora and welcomed her to her family’s home. Small talk was made as they ate, a great deal of it being questions from Zecora, who found the farm and the methods used to run it fascinating. Though she had a small garden of her own, tending such a massive field as Sweet Apple Acres must involve a thousand times more work and skill. The four having run out of things to share with her, Granny Smith turned her full attention to Zecora. “Well now, that’s enough ‘bout us. So how 'bout you? Mind telling us a bit ‘bout yerself?” The Apples waited for Zecora to answer – the zebra was almost a complete mystery and anything she shared would likely be fascinating. Zecora smiled and spoke: “My name is Zecora, as you’re all aware, among ponyfolk I’m a breed that’s quite rare. I’m a zebra from the land Marengeti and I live in the shade of the deep E…” Before she could finish, Granny let out a large yawn. “Oh fiddle-faddle.” She gave Zecora an embarrassed look. “I’m sorry fer that, dear. Didn’t mean to be rude an’cut you off like that. S’been a long day an’ this ol’ green mare just ain’t what she used to be.” She gave a short laugh. “I’m afraid I’ll have'ta call it a night or I ain’t gonna be much good to anypony come th’mornin’.” Already becoming drowsy, Granny Smith apologized once more and thanked Zecora for her visit before tottering away to her room. Apple Bloom followed close behind – dinner had been later than usual tonight, her class was having a field trip tomorrow and she wanted to be bright-eyed for it. Zecora offered to help clean up, but Applejack politely refused; as a guest, it wasn't her place to help. Zecora nodded to Applejack and Macintosh and slipped out the open front door to stand on the porch and enjoy the night air. As they cleared the dinner table, Applejack nudged Macintosh. “Well? Go out there and join her. If’n you wanna get to know her, you gotta get to know her. I’ll clear the table an’ handle the tidyin’, you just get goin’.” Macintosh slowly and self-consciously headed to the front door. As he was trying to decide whether to follow through on his sister’s suggestion or not, Zecora spoke, her eyes still watching the sky steadily. “The stars are beautiful and a rarely seen sight. The forest trees often block my view of the night.” Macintosh stepped onto the porch and stood beside Zecora, looking up as well. After a minute or two of considering the cloudless sky, he spoke. “Never get tired of watchin’ ‘em, myself; they always seem a bit different every night. It’s almost like they know they’re bein’ looked ‘pon and want to make it interestin’ so you’ll come back the next night.” Macintosh went silent again. A few moments later, he spoke: “Gotta say, though, they seem brighter an’ prettier than usual this night. Maybe it’s ‘cause of who I’m watchin’ ‘em with.” Zecora turned her head to look up at Macintosh, who was still intently stargazing. At his compliment, the odd feeling ran through her once more, even stronger than the second time. This time, though, the feeling was accompanied by a further sensation, one that was warm like the summer eve but with a tiniest touch of frost. It almost felt like fear, but in a good way – her heart raced oh so slightly and yet somehow it didn't worry her. This new sensation was pleasing to her even though she could put no name to it. It somehow reminded her of something; there was just the slightest twinge of familiarity... Macintosh felt something as well. He found that just standing beside Zecora made him feel warm and content. It just felt right to be there, standing on the porch and watching the sky with her. He was in the right place, at the right time and with the right pony. He lowered his head and looked to Zecora in turn and their eyes met. They gazed at one another, the sky momentarily forgotten. “Then let us watch the stars together, Macintosh.” Zecora replied. She moved to stand closer beside him. Macintosh could feel his side grow warm from Zecora’s body heat as their coats brushed against one another. They turned their eyes skyward again and watched in silence, their bodies lightly touching. The next day, Zecora continued her journey back to her hut. Her feelings from the last night were still confusing to her; when she and Macintosh had stood together on that porch and then looked into each other’s eyes, it had been as though the night sky and its shimmering stars had ceased to exist. All she could see at that moment was the depth of Macintosh’s green eyes as she looked up at him and all she could feel was the 'pleasant fear'. Zecora thanked Applejack and her family for their hospitality; the offer of her home for the night was most kind of Applejack to make. With a polite nod of her head, she exited Sweet Apple Acres and went down the path leading to Ponyville and her forest. As she trotted back to Everfree, she spontaneously began humming a song under her breath and then began to dance as she had on the cobblestone path leading to Poshton Estates. Right forehoof forward, tap hoof, slide right, tap hoof, left forehoof forward… Her earrings jingled slightly as she went through each position. She stopped as she realized what she was doing and looked around her self-consciously. No one had seen her display save a squirrel or two. And now suddenly I’m as happy as a filly. I wonder why? I must think on this further. She reached the forest and quickly made her way to her hut. Upon entering, she filled her brewing-pot with water and began to mix a simple potion to help focus her thoughts. She had long ago reached the point where some of her more common potions could be made almost reflexively and had found that her mind tended to clear of any residual fog in the doing. The water began to bubble. Herbs were reduced to powder with a mortar and pestle before being added to the pot. Zecora focused entirely on the previous evening and pondered as her potion brewed... Applejack turned to her big brother. “So?” “So what?” “You know exactly 'so what', Macintosh. Did you tell Zecora what you thought ‘bout her?” “Nope. Spent a good amount of time watching the stars together last night and nothing else,” he said as Applejack began to snicker. “To be honest, I was so happy just to be with her I flat out forgot to say a word. So I figure I gotta take matters into my own hooves.” “Whatcha got in mind, big brother?” “Tomorrow, I’m gonna travel to her hut an’ bring her a bag of our best apples as a gift. She sees I’m willing to go through the trouble of travelling there just to see her, she’d know I was serious an’ I could tell her how I felt.” Applejack paled. “You...you sure you wanna do that, Macintosh?” asked Applejack with concern. “I did tell ya she lives in Everfree, right? That ain’t the most friendly of places, an’ Zecora’s the only one I know who can live there safely. An’ you don’t even know where her hut is. Might be dangerous. Probably be dangerous.” “Eeyup,” replied Macintosh, “That’s the point, sis. Gotta prove myself to her. Gotta show her I'm willing to risk myself fer her. I’ll make you a deal, though – you promise to keep this a secret ‘tween us, and I promise to turn an’ come back if’n things get too hairy.” Applejack considered this carefully for a minute and then sighed. “Well I think this is a stupid idea an’ yer just lookin’ fer trouble, but if I can’t trust the word of my own kin…” She scowled up at his big brother. “Now you promise you’ll come right back the moment it starts getting’ troublesome? I don’t relish explainin’ this to Granny should the horseapples hit the fan, ‘specially the part about hidin’ this from her...” “I promise, sis,” replied Macintosh gravely. Applejack stood quietly for another moment and then appeared to come to a resolve. She spat on a forehoof and reached for Macintosh. Macintosh did the same and the two spit-shook to seal the deal. Breaking a spit-shake promise was nearly as bad as breaking a Pinkie Pie one. Nearly. “Don’t suppose I can talk y’out of it?” asked Applejack hopefully. “Nope.” “That’s what I was afraid of.” The next morning, Macintosh loaded up a saddlebag with apples and some apple blooms on top, which he added partly for their beauty and partly in honor of his youngest sister, who was Zecora’s first friend. Granny Smith and Apple Bloom wished him well, unaware of exactly where he was going. Macintosh had told Granny Smith and his youngest sibling that he had his eye set on a filly and wanted to make her acquaintance, but neglected to mention that the filly in question was Zecora. Granny’s eyes twinkled – she knew exactly who Macintosh was going to meet. The boy was as easy to read as a shopping list and she certainly hadn't missed the looks he’d given Zecora. If she had known that Everfree forest was where Zecora lived... Apple Bloom was oblivious to these sort of matters and was as unaware as to whom Macintosh was going to meet as Granny was about where he was heading, not being quite old enough to put two and two together in this respect. With a stretch of his legs, he said goodbye to the three of them and headed out. After about a half-hour of walking, Macintosh reached the point where the path split and led to Ponyville and the Everfree Forest. He turned towards Everfree and continued onward. Fifteen minutes later, he reached the outskirts of the forest. The scenery became noticeably darker and drearier; the shadows seemed to pull the color from everything. Macintosh half-wished he’d asked Applejack for a rough idea as to how to reach Zecora’s hut, but he'd told his sister that he needed to do this on his own, with no help from others. Steeling himself, he entered Everfree forest. The light immediately dimmed by almost half, and the air became humid and cooler. Macintosh stopped for a moment to let his eyes adjust. He heard the sounds of strange birds and forest creatures as he looked around to get his bearings. The trees surrounding him were as gloomy as the atmosphere of the forest: most of them were tall and skeletal-looking, with black glistening bark and branches that looked like talon-fingered arms. Many of them were covered in moss and some almost appeared to have faces. Vines hung from many of the trees and the shadows of small creatures could sometimes be seen leaping from branch to branch. The forest floor was covered in wet leaves and there was a slight smell of rotting vegetation. Large bushes shook when there was a breeze, making an ominous creaking sound. Macintosh saw what appeared to be a path through the forest and followed it. Eventually, it passed through a small outcropping of plants with bright blue-leaves. He walked through it and continued further into the forest. His legs tingled strangely for a moment, but he paid it no mind. A short time later, it felt as though his saddlebags and harness collar were becoming heavier. He put this down to all the walking he had done and the dreary atmosphere of the forest, which seemed to suck the light and life from everything. Nonetheless, the weight of his harness seemed to grow all the heavier upon his consideration as he trotted. Ten minutes or so after that, the harness felt like it weighed a ton and he could barely move. Macintosh closed his eyes and lowered his head to catch his breath. As he panted, his harness slowly slid from his neck and hit the ground with a hearty thud. Macintosh’s eyes shot open. He looked down at the harness and noticed his foreleg was almost stick-thin. The other was the same. He went cold with shock and he stumbled through the forest until he found a pool of water. He looked into it. A pair of large green eyes stared back up at him from a rounded, almost filly-like face. Macintosh backed away from the pool so quickly that he fell backwards onto his hindquarters. His normally calm nature, already strained to the breaking point by now, failed him completely and he let out a high-pitched cry of pure terror. He was a colt again.