//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: The Arbitrage of Moments // by GaPJaxie //------------------------------// Applejack sat at the kitchen table, the flickering light from her candle casting long shadows over the farmhouse. It was late—late enough that all the other members of the Apple family had long since gone to bed. The entire farm rose before first light, and so as a family, they were not partial to the wee hours. Tonight though, Applejack couldn't sleep. Instead, she read by firelight, the old journal held open on the table in front of her. December 15, 965 Father’s condition continues to degrade. His lucid moments are becoming less frequent, and on any given visit to the hospital, it is not certain he will be conscious. The doctors insist that surgery will only burn the time he has left, and that we should focus on making him comfortable, but I have refused them. They think I am being selfish—ignoring his pain because I cannot stand the thought of his passing—but they are incorrect. I know this is what he would want. Pain never troubled him, and he knows mother needs him. And she does need him, badly. I return home every weekend, and Flash Dance visits as often as she can, but it is clear that the house is not being cared for in our absence. It is often a mess, and Flash Dance informed me that when last she arrived, she found Mother still in bed well past noon, and that she was not in a fit state. She always was a fragile creature. Kind and caring, but weak. I do not know what will become of her if Father passes, but I have asked the university if I may have time off to visit her mid-week. She will need somepony to take care of her, and I know Flash Dance is struggling to make the time as it is. I remain unsure what to think of it all. My father is dying, and I’d be within my rights to be paralyzed with fear or grief, but I feel flat. He was always there for me. I suppose I can’t imagine a world without him in it. I am not writing him off yet though. He is stubborn, and determined to be there for his family. At times he seems more earth pony than I am. If there is a way he might survive, he will find it. I worry for Flash Dance, but while I am certain she is in pain, she hides it. She takes after Father that way. I should be lucky— A creak of wood made Applejack jump, and she shot to her hooves, a burst of adrenaline rushing through her. She soon realized it was only Big Mac however, his distinctive outline coming into view as he stepped off the rear stairs into the kitchen. Applejack sighed when she recognized him, and she slid her rear back to the floor, although her body remained stiff and tense. “Hey there, Big Mac.” “Applejack,” he greeted her in turn, with his usual calm, slow tones. “You’re up late.” “Yeah,” Applejack said, glancing at the book and candle. Her hoof actually left the ground, moving to cover the book and hide what she was doing, before she suppressed the urge and returned it to the floor. “Couldn't sleep,” she added, when the resulting silence grew too long. “What’s that you’re reading?” he asked, nodding at the table, his eyes flicking to the book and then back to his sister. “It’s, uh...” Applejack glanced at the book as well, hesitating before she answered. “It’s Tick Tock’s journal. Ah found it when Ah was cleanin’ up the library.” “About what happened with Twilight?” Big Mac asked, showing no reaction to the news, his face as flat and stoic as ever. “No. Ah mean, maybe that’s later, but Ah’m startin’ at the beginnin’,” she said, glancing down at her hooves. She felt pinned to the spot, guilty like a foal caught with her muzzle in the cookie jar, and her ears folded back. “Right now it’s mostly just personal stuff: how he got his artificer’s cutie mark, his first job at Canterlot University, that sort of thing. His dad’s sick, right now. Cancer.” “Mmm,” Big Mac said, a sound between a murmur and a grunt. “Sounds like an interestin’ book.” “Not really,” Applejack said, shrugging, though her eyes remained on the floor. “It’s mostly day-to-day stuff. Job, family, projects. He draws little mechanisms a lot.” For a time, nopony spoke. To Applejack, it seemed an eternity—she just stared at her hooves, feeling her brother’s gaze, wishing, willing him to say something. Big Mac only stood there however, looking at her with an impassive expression. “Applejack,” he finally spoke. “Why are you reading that?” “Ah jus’...” She paused to swallow, struggling to find the words. “Ah need to understand why.” “There ain’t no why to these things, AJ, ‘cept that some ponies are sick in the head,” Big Mac answered, firmly shaking his head. “There ain’t gotta be a reason behind it.” “Ah knew that, Big Mac, but Ah... Ah jus’...” Applejack opened and closed her mouth a few times without a sound. “Ponies are startin’ to ask where Twilight is, and... and we’re gonna have to tell them somethin’. And when we do, there’ll be questions. Ah’m not sure the girls will be able to deal with it. Rainbow Dash is barely holding together; Fluttershy’s even worse. Ah know they won’t be ready when the time comes, and I’m gonna have to explain to everypony what happened and...” She drew a breath, finding her throat so tight the air would barely come. “Ah’m not really sure myself.” Big Mac stepped forward, and the two embraced quietly, understanding each other perfectly without a word. “Ah’ll be up soon, Big Mac,” she said, her voice rough and choked. “Ah jus’...” “You want some company?” he asked, and Applejack laughed, a joyless sound closer to tears than humor. “Yes,” she said, squeezing him tight as they hugged. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” Eventually, they disentangled themselves. Big Mac got a cloth to wipe away the tears that dotted Applejack’s face, and they lit a lantern to replace the sputtering and dying candle. She tried to resume her reading, but her eyes would not focus on the page. She wasn’t sure if it was the tears or the conversation or Big Mac sitting next to her, but the text simply could not hold her gaze. After several failed attempts to force her way through, she took the pages in hoof, and let them flip ahead. The dates marched forward before her eyes—forty years ago, thirty years ago, ten, five, four, three, two. One. It was a drawing that stopped her. It was an ink drawing—Rainbow Dash in flight. Applejack had seen Rainbow fly many times, but this picture was not like any of them. It did not show her diving or climbing or turning, but floating, making her way through the air on the gentlest currents. It was an intensely detailed illustration, and Applejack could see every gust of wind in the way Rainbow Dash’s body relaxed and tensed to catch it. It was like she was twisting herself through the air, as a swimmer in the water. It showed her smiling, but the smile was again not like any Applejack had seen her wear before. It was gentle, but extended all the way up to her eyes—contentment. Applejack studied the drawing in silence for some time. She doubted it was made from life—she couldn't imagine Rainbow Dash ever assuming such a pose. Despite that, there was something about it: a certain familiarity. It felt like her friend. She turned the page. May 9, 1005 I do believe that mare has stolen my heart. At first, I thought I was just physically attracted to her. She is quite beautiful, and it’s not hard to interpret the way I’d get tongue-tied around her, but I thought that the extent of things. I knew that our friendship was more important than some passing infatuation, so I made a point of trying to hide my feelings. She did catch me staring at her once or twice, to my great embarrassment, but I pretended it had never happened, and she did the same. Lately though, I can’t keep her out of my head. There’s something about her that makes the world brighter when she’s near—that makes me happy just to be around her. I’ve been trying to ignore those feelings—I’m not sure if she’d be interested, and even if she is, she is not a mare who gives herself by parts. If she agreed to be with me and my feelings turned out to just be a passing crush, I do think it would break her heart. I couldn’t bear that. Such thoughts have been enough to keep me from pursuing the matter. But now... I saw her today. She was in the market near Sugarcube Corner. I was running errands when I noticed her. She seemed upset, and I asked her what was wrong. Of course, she wouldn't say, but I didn’t expect her to. She hates crowds when she’s brooding, so I knew there had to be a reason she was in the market instead of in the sky. With her so close to Sugarcube Corner, it was not hard to figure out she’d had a fight with Pinkie Pie and was trying to work up the nerve to admit she was wrong. I thought I’d cheer her up, and for a while, we talked about nothing: how her Wonderbolt trials were doing, life in Canterlot, that new stallion Rarity fancies. I thought that after a while, she’d work up the nerve to move and talk to Pinkie Pie. But she didn’t. She told me what was bothering her. She’s afraid. She said that Pinkie Pie made a joke about staying in Ponyville forever, and that that was enough to set her off shouting until the Cakes told her to go. She said that she’s scared—that she can see her friends starting to settle down: Rarity with her career, Pinkie Pie with her cake shop, me. She said that she can see all her friends turning into these responsible adults while she stays just where she is. I was about to tell her that she was being ridiculous—that she’s the winter wrapup team leader, and a future Wonderbolt, and of course she’s growing up. Then she looked right at me. I have never wanted to shield a living creature so much as I did her at that moment. She was on the verge of tears, but couldn't tell me why, and I longed to wrap her up and tell her it would all be okay. She wasn’t afraid of her friends moving on; she was afraid that a time was coming when we could move on—when we wouldn't need her anymore, and she wouldn't need us. She was afraid that one of us would leave her, or worse, that she would go, and we wouldn't care. I was instantly struck mute, of course, my jaw frozen as I mentally screamed at myself to say something— Applejack paused, rereading the previous paragraph. Her eyes focused on a few words. We. Us. Me. Her stomach started to turn, and she felt bile rising in her throat. She flinched away, like the words themselves caused her feelings simply by proximity, and she quickly flipped the pages forward. The entry went on for pages and pages, more writing in that single entry than in the last week combined. Finally, she reached the next day. May 10, 1005 She said yes. “Oh...” Applejack said, the churning in her stomach turning to full nausea. “Oh, ponyfeathers.” She slammed the book shut, shoving it away and forcing herself to draw slow, even breaths. Big Mac departed for a moment to find a bucket, and then laid it to rest in front of Applejack before returning to her side. There he sat next to her, holding her shoulder with a hoof as she struggled to calm herself. “What was it?” he asked, when the tremors in her gut had subsided. She leaned down to spit into the bucket, wiping away the traces of water at the edge of the mouth. “Ah don’t want to say,” Applejack answered, trying to swallow the taste of bile away. She drew a sharp breath after that, then a deep one, hanging her head low. “What are we gonna do, Big Mac?” she asked, her voice trembling faintly. “What are Rainbow Dash and Twilight gonna do?” “Move on,” he said, with a faint shrug. “What? That’s it!?” she snapped, turning her head up to glare at him. He showed no reaction, which only made her shout louder. “That’s all you got to say!? You can’t just shrug and—and pretend it never happened! You can’t just tell me to move on. It ain't that easy!” “Nope,” Big Mac answered her shouting, like a rock in a storm. “But it’s what’s next.” “Ah don’t... Ah...” Applejack started, but Big Mac gestured with a hoof for silence. Their ears twitched and turned at one to face the stairs, and they both heard the sound of little hooves on the wood—the creak of the old beams. “Come on out, Apple Bloom,” Applejack said after a moment, forcing herself to stand up straight. Apple Bloom slunk down the steps, silently making her way into the kitchen. She wasn’t a foal any longer—her awkwardly long legs, uneven voice, and the trio of stars upon her flank all spoke to that. But when she entered the kitchen, she looked like a foal, ears folded back and head lowered. “I heard shouting,” she said quietly, like that were somehow her fault. “Sorry,” Applejack said, sighing quietly. “We were uh... your big brother and Ah were jus’—” “About to call it a night,” Big Mac supplied, and Applejack nodded and forced her expression into something like neutral, commanding her voice to steady. “That’s right. It’s late,” Applejack said with a firm nod. “You go on back up, Apple Bloom. We’ll be right after you.” Apple Bloom nodded back gently, but she didn’t move, standing her ground and looking at the floor. She flicked her tail this way and that, and after a long silence asked, “Applejack? Why is Twilight gone?” “She’s in Canterlot on—” “On Princess buisness, you said.” Apple Bloom sighed. “But... Ah mean. Ah’m not blind, Applejack. Ponies are starting to wonder.” She scraped over the floor with a hoof, letting it catch the knots in the wood. “Is she okay?” “She’ll be back the day after tomorrow, Apple Bloom,” Applejack answered, drawing a breath and letting it out. “The girls and I are all taking the train to Canterlot to get her, remember? Now go to bed.” “Y-yeah, Ah know,” Apple Bloom said, raising her head. “But, is she okay? I mean, was she hurt, or—” “Go to bed, Apple Bloom,” Applejack repeated, her voice growing tenser as the stiffness in her jaw grew. Apple Bloom didn’t react, save to lower her gaze back to the floor. When Apple Bloom didn’t move, Big Mac stepped up to her, nudging her back towards the stairs. “You heard your sister. Go on up,” he said, emphasizing the words with a little push. She turned, slowly trotting back up the stairs. After she was gone, Bic Mac turned his attention to Applejack again, “Ah should go have a word with her. Ah’ll be right back, and—” “No.” Applejack shook her head, rising. “You were right. Ah’ll... be up in a bit. Should get to bed.” Big Mac nodded, and climbed the stairs after Apple Bloom. Not long later, Applejack went upstairs as well. She took the book with her.