//------------------------------// // No Last Chances // Story: The Apple Family // by ladydestinae //------------------------------// The Apple Family Chapter 1 No Last Chances It was a beautiful, sunlit day in the young town of Ponyville. She was a beautiful young filly with a green coat and long blonde mane kept tame in a braid. She wore a bonnet, and walked with a sense of purpose wherever she went. She was a member of the family that helped found this little up and coming town. It didn’t make her arrogant or particularly self important. It just gave her confidence as she moved about town, today she was selling some of her famous Zap Apple jam. It wasn’t going to take long, the stuff pretty much sold itself ever since Stinkin’ invested in it. It made her day easier than most, since she barely had to make a pitch to get her product moving anymore. She was quiet as she set up her stand, and the moment she stood behind it and opened up for business it was all she could do just to keep ponies from knocking the whole thing over with enthusiasm. She was nearing the last of her stock for the day when a young gentlecolt approached the stand with a few bits in his mouth. He was looking to buy the last of the jam, and it was a good thing he was in line at his place or he wouldn’t have had the opportunity. He stopped in his tracks, and his gaze went blank as he looked at Miss Smith. He had never seen such spirited eyes before; they were fiery orange and full of life. He admired her golden locks which flowed majestically down her bright green coat. He admired the delicious looking apple pie that adorned her flank. He was absolutely lost in her presence. He couldn’t remember what he was going to say, or why he had even shown up at this whatchamacallit stand in the first place. “Ya okay there…?” she asked, her voice was quite strong. She might have looked like a delicate young thing, but that betrayed her natural resilience and determination. She was not the least bit fragile, and he could hear all of that in those three words. He was taken with her, all at once, and he had to find a way to speak again or else he may never get another chance. “Oh, yes.” He replied. He was better than okay, he was in love. He set his bits down on the stand. “I’d like whatever you have left, please.” He said with an air of false confidence in himself. At this moment, he wasn’t the least bit sure of himself and he was more than certain she was out of his league. She smiled, and happily obliged him with the remaining five jars of Zap Apple jam and a warm smile. “Enjoy!” she said, filing away the newly earned bits. She then started to pack up the Jam Stand. “Excuse me?” he said in as manly a tone as he could muster. “Would you like some help?” “Oh, well thank ya kindly. I surely won’t turn down the offer.” She replied, with the same warm smile. He felt his heart flutter as he proceeded to help her, and as soon as she was packed up completely she started pulling the cart back to the farm. He watched her go, and smiled stupidly to himself. • • • Well, he was certainly a nice stallion. It was kind of him to help her; nopony ever did that for her before. It was quite refreshing for her to receive some kindness during the day. For such an important mare in town, she certainly wasn’t the best at making friends. She was much too inward for that, invested in the family’s business and always figuring out new ways of doing things. It was no small accomplishment, as an earth pony, to so clearly understand the mystifying properties of a magical harvest such as the Zap Apples. Earth Ponies typically left such matters to the Unicorns, as it was their particular area of expertise. Miss Smith was never such a pony; she didn’t resign to limits simply because somehow they had become unwritten rules in society. She was more than happy to take on the challenge. Any challenge would do; really, she was that kind of pony. She dared to defy whoever told her something wasn’t possible, and she usually proved them completely wrong. She had become lost in these thoughts, wondering if that was keeping her from making real and lasting friendships. Well, she was very focused on her work at the farm and exploring the Everfree Forsest most nights. It was certainly plausible that this was impacting her social life something fierce. She reckoned she ought to tone it down a bit. • • • It was only weeks into their friendship, but he had seen a distinct drop in her demeanor. She wasn't the same mare he had met at the roadside Zap Apple Jam stand earlier; she wasn’t even close to that. She seemed, well, quite distant recently. “Lady Smith, what’s the matter…?” he asked, hoping this conversation wouldn’t be a struggle. He wanted her to open up and just talk freely, but she almost never did. “Well… Ya see… Ah don’t rightly enjoy sittin’ still or none of that… I’m a might more at home doin’ excitin’ stuff and… y’know… having adventures.” She confided in him, far easier than he had anticipated. “Oh, so why don’t you go and have adventures…?” he asked. “See… Ah jus’ made this real nice friend… and I wouldn’t wanna leave him behind…” she said. “What makes you so sure you would have to?” he asked with a smile. “What?” she returned, confused. “Lady Smith, I would love to share adventures with you. I’d follow you to the ends of Equestria and far beyond that.” He said, it came out perfect and he was very pleased with himself. Even more so upon seeing her eyes spark with that same fiery enthusiasm he had fallen for in the first place, she was happy and excited. “Oh! Really? You ain’t pullin’ ma chain or nothin’?” she asked. “Of course I’m not pulling your chain. I mean every word.” He said right back. He was excited to see where her adventurous spirit was going to lead them. Out there was an entire world to explore and understand, and he wouldn’t want to share that with any other pony in the world. She eyed her friend, his well groomed deep red coat and gentle green eyes betrayed an adventurous spirit as wild and restless as her own. She could see this was going to be a truly wonderful friendship now; she didn’t have to be somepony she wasn’t in order to make him happy. And that made her happy. “Gentle Hooves…” she began “Thank you.” • • • It was in a desert land far from home that she and Gentle found their way into a peculiar encampment. Neither of them knew what to expect here. It was very hot and very dry here, and they were absolutely parched. She had to stop and ask for some help, there really was no choice now. The arid climate was simply too overpowering not to. She moved slowly towards one of the larger tents, and cleared her throat as she began to speak slowly. “Mah name is Lady Smith… Ah’m here with my husband, Gentle Hooves… We were wonderin’ if’n anypony here would be kind enou-“ The flap of the large tent she’d been speaking near suddenly flew open. Out from this tent stepped a black and white striped creature, built similarly to an earth pony but just a bit larger. She hadn’t seen anypony like this before. She stood, quiet. She didn’t want to upset this creature, she only wanted some help. “Yes, it is water you seek? Perhaps you would benefit from our creek.” Spoke the creature, pointing her just past the opposite end of the encampment, where a small patch of fertile green trees and shrubbery sat. It really had no earthly business being there. “Go on now, and have a drink. It will help you to clearer think.” The creature ushered her off. She, and Gentle, trotted off to the lush vegetation and each took a good helping of the cool clear water held in the tiny creek. It was amazing how it stayed so full, and there was no discernable source for this water. She trotted back to the encampment, more than a little curious how this was possible. “I trust you found our water there, and now you wish some time to share?” asked the creature. “Ah… Well, Ah have a question fer ya…” she began, “What… what are ya?” “A question I will answer true, if you will answer one about you?” spoke the creature. She had a strangely deep voice; it was curious how soothing her voice was. Especially for how little she knew about these creatures. “Uh, I sure will!” she replied. “A Zebra, dear, is what we’re called. Why is it you are so enthralled?” returned the Zebra. “A Zebra? Ain’t never heard a’yer kind. You seem a right friendly sort though.” She offered. The Zebra nodded. “Ah’m-…” “Lady Smith, you have already said. I am Zekreh, this tribe’s chosen head.” Lady Smith smiled, and they traded questions and stories throughout the night. Gentle Hooves couldn’t help but admire her tenacity. She might have been a bit uneasy at first, but she treated this Zekreh like she was no different from herself. He knew a pony or two who wouldn’t have been half as nice or brave as that. The evening passed into morning, the sun stretching out over the arid desert land. In the morning light it was clearer that there were patches of vegetation sprinkled throughout the landscape, and the zebra tribe became that much more impressive to her. She started to understand some of their traditions and symbols, like the masks that hung from the individual tents that expressed an invitation to their homes. What a marvelous culture this was. She talked to Gentle about it, and it didn’t take a lot to get him to agree to stay. So they did stay, and they learned much about the zebra culture. Every last bit of it was fascinating, from their curious brews to their penchant for speaking in rhyme. She learned that Zekreh had a granddaughter who had become interested in ponies while Lady Smith was staying with them. She admired that young zebra’s spirit right off, and wished her well. They had stayed with them, all told, for nearly a year before they were on the way to the next great adventure. • • • “It’s a girl” said the doctor, and Lady Smith was elated. “A girl, ya say?” she asked. “Yes ma’am.” He said, placing the bundle in her arms. “Looks like Orange Blossom got herself a little sister, eh?” she smiled, looking into the face of this little cream colored filly with a shock of red mane. “What do I call ya, hm?” She looked into the enormous green eyes of this tiny little filly, and smiled “I think Apple Blossom will do.” She sighed, content to just hold Apple Blossom for the remainder of her life. She had made a promise to Gentle Hooves not to slow down or stop adventuring because he was gone. She’d never forgotten the day they came back to Ponyville. She was with child and the adventuring seemed not the best lifestyle for a young’n. So, they decided it was finally time to settle down after ten years of exploring Equestria and all of the lands beyond. She had learned of her father’s passing when she returned, and she was to inherit the family farm. It was a blessing of sorts, since it meant she would have a proper place to raise her young’n. If only Orange Blossom had been more inclined to enjoy the life style of the farm, but she was bored sitting around that quiet seventy acres of land and she wanted someplace less quiet. Someplace busier and more alive during more of the day. Miss Smith sure didn’t understand that, where was the fun in living in some crowded city somewhere? She remembered the last time she saw Gentle Hooves. He had never stopped smiling, not once in all the time they had been together and shared their lives, but that day he was weak from illness. He couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, and she was once again with child. She didn’t fancy the idea of facing the world without him, but she sure didn’t reckon she couldn’t handle it. He spoke for the final time on the final night of a Zap Apple Harvest. He only had three words to share before he drifted off into eternal slumber. “I love you” he said through weakness and strain to his beloved Lady Smith. • • • Well, Orange Blossom came of age and departed the farm without a second thought. She was determined to make it in the city. All well and fine, thought Miss Smith, I hope yer happy out there, and don’t ya hesitate to come on back fer a visit. On the other hand, Apple Blossom was a growing filly with an appetite for adventure much like her own. It amused her to see what troubles the filly would get herself into, and even more to help her out of those jams. She loved both of her daughters, but she related much more to Apple Blossom. Miss Smith didn’t know it, but Orange Blossom took after her father, Gentle Hooves. He was a city pony himself, who had only visited the countryside on business. He had no idea he was going to meet his true love that day. Neither did he have any idea that he was going to throw his former life away, and start on this new adventure. Still, whatever Orange Blossom wanted to do with her life, she had her mother’s blessing. It was not her wish to mold her children, so much as to help them shape themselves. • • • It was a strange occasion the day that Apple Blossom brought home Rough Stuff. He was a big stallion, but he was mighty respectful of Mrs. Smith. She had no trouble at all warming up to him once he started talking and she could get an accurate measure of his character. She found out he was a hard worker with a very strong back, and that he was more than willing to help out around the orchards. He wasn’t particularly business savvy, but he was definitely ambitious. He was part of a huge family, many of them apple picking ponies themselves. She was glad to find somepony who was already like family before he even joined it. He saw potential in the apple treats that Mrs. Smith baked, moreso than she realized there was herself. However, each attempt he made on his own to market and push the fine product usually ended up wildly backfiring. Apple Blossom, on the other hand, had a knack for handling it. She wasn’t quite as ambitious as Rough was, but she was supportive of him. It warmed Smith’s heart to see that her daughter was truly happy with this stallion. • • • The wedding had been very lovely, and she felt honored to walk Apple Blossom down the aisle. She reassured her daughter that there was no way that Gentle Hooves had missed this wedding. It made the day feel that much more special to think that she was sharing it with both of her parents. She looked at her stallion with loving eyes, he wasn’t much in the brains department but he still had a lot of drive and energy. He put all of that to use on the farm full time after the wedding, and she often found herself watching him work in the hot summer sun. The sheen of his orange coat and shine of his sandy colored mane made his green eyes pop much more vividly. Mrs. Smith could see her daughter getting lost in thought, and found herself much of the time having to snap the girl back into reality. “Now come now ya lazy daisy, pick up the pace.” • • • She thought she had experienced the greatest joy in the world the first time she held Orange Blossom in her hooves, but she had been wrong. She felt the same immense joy the day she held Apple Blossom in her hooves. How could that possibly be topped? It was when she was introduced to her grandson, a colt her daughter had named Big Macintosh for his size and color, that she felt it once again. He was big, like his father, but he looked more like his grandfather. She wondered what kind of a pony he would turn out to be. He looked at her with enormous green eyes, and freckled cheeks, and yawned. She felt her heart melt many times over. She was starting to show age now, her blonde mane was taking on bits of grey and her coat was dulling in the prolonged hours in the sun during the harvest time. She had taken to wearing her mane in a simple bun nowadays, so it wouldn’t get in the way whilst she bucked apples out of trees. But looking at this colt, she glowed. She supposed Gentle would have told her it was like she had forgotten to age, and she would have blushed at that. For now, she was lost in her grandson’s eyes, they reminded her so much of Gentle’s. • • • It finally came, the day she would have to say farewell to her daughter. Apple Blossom wanted a different life for Big Macintosh, and for whatever siblings he might have. She decided to leave Sweet Apple Acres and raise her family somewhere a bit different. Somewhere that wasn’t in Ponyville, and didn’t involve a load of farm work. She had chosen a life not unlike her sister’s, but in Phillydelphia. It was a busy town, with plenty to do and jobs to be had. Rough Stuff was quick to find work and keep a roof over his family’s heads, and Apple Blossom found herself a bit of work as well. She had a talent for selling the pastries down at the corner pastry shop. • • • Mrs. Smith spent a lot of her time working the farm, her age was catching up to her and she felt it in her joints every day. She was slowing down and it was becoming obvious. She had to let a lot of the farmhands go because she couldn’t afford to keep them around. She was shouldering more of the workload every day, and it was becoming an awfully dull routine. Perhaps it was time she retired from this; then perhaps she could rest her weary bones and reflect on her life. She wished her daughters would visit her more often, but she understood that they were each far off and the travel was not the best for her grandchildren. Yep, she had been blessed with another grandchild. A filly, who looked a lot like her father with an orange coat and a blonde mane, but with her grandfather’s eyes. She had only seen this filly once, when she travelled out to Phillydelphia to help take care of the children whilst Blossom recovered from the delivery. It was of great concern to Mrs. Smith that Apple Blossom was so worn out from this delivery. She didn’t fuss about it too much, and Apple Blossom didn’t want to talk about it either. She found it more productive to fuss over her grandchildren, and that she did. She was very fond of them. • • • It was years later that Mrs. Smith heard the news; she was being blessed with a third grandchild. It was sad to her though, that this little one would never meet their father. Rough Stuff had started to run the trains out of Phillydelphia, heading through Dodge Junction and to places beyond. It was during a particularly rough night; a sandstorm had kicked up and made it very difficult to run the engine. It wasn’t like seeing was entirely necessary; they ran on a track so the direction was set and never varied other than the difference between coming and going. Nevertheless, if you were moving too quickly you risked jumping the tracks at points where they curved. Rough Stuff was a strong stallion, who could move very quickly, and he was moving that engine through the storm as quickly as he could in order to reduce the amount of time the crew was spending in it. He didn’t see the curve of the track, and he didn’t realize how fast he was going until he felt the engine lean sharply to the right, he would swear the wheels had lifted from the track. He tried to slow it down and get it to stabilize, but it was too late for that, it had already begun its descent along the other side of the tracks. He resolved to do the only other thing he could do, and save the rest of the train. He had the engine disconnected from the rest of the train, and then he promptly ran it off the track himself. He had the other stallions bail out of their harnesses, and he moved quickly to keep the thing going. It had enough momentum that pulling it wasn’t so hard. He knew already that he couldn’t possibly stop the thing on his own, and he was going to have to stop galloping sooner or later. He couldn’t free himself from his own harness though, and he could see he was approaching the town. He gritted his teeth, and with every last bit of strength he had left in his body he pulled that thing off its course. It moved lazily to the north, and he kept it going towards a plateau in the near distance. He ran the engine right into the plateau in order to stop it, sacrificing his life to save everypony else’s. He was the only casualty of that accident, other than the engine. He was considered a hero for it, but Apple Blossom decided to just let it die down, keeping a clipping of the first article to print. • • • It was a terrible night, there was a distinct chill in the air and the rain was falling especially heavily. Mrs. Smith was waiting at the edge of her farm; she’d heard some terrible news and was told to expect somepony to deliver something to her. All she knew for sure was that it had to do with her daughter. A flash of lightning revealed the sturdy stallion pulling the carriage behind him toward the archway of Sweet Apple Acres. It looked worn and overused, signs of age and disrepair evident even in the haze of the storm. “What’s happened? Where is she?” she cried, she was panicked but calm enough to manage the questions and hear the answers. “She didn’t make it, I’m sorry.” He replied, still pulling that slightly damaged carriage behind him. “But… Her daughter did.” He added. “Oh my dear… Let me see.” She said, walking weakly around the carriage and peaking inside. There, in silence, lay three young ponies. Big Macintosh lay in such a way that he was protecting his sisters while he slept, if indeed he knew he had another little sister. Applejack was between Big Macintosh and her little sister, her orange coat was not dulled even by this weather. It was the littlest of them, the newborn filly, which interested Mrs. Smith the most. She looked just like her mother, and a quiet little yawn revealed that she had her grandmother’s fiery eyes. “Mrs. Smith” he began “What are you going to do?” She took a deep breath, and stepped back from the carriage, then she looked at the old barn house and the sprawling farmland. “I’m going to take care of ‘em, that’s what.” She replied, as though the question were utterly foolish. How could she not? These were her grandchildren. He stepped out of the harness, and helped her fasten it so she could take the children the rest of the way. Tonight, she would take her grandchildren with her. Tomorrow, she would bury her youngest daughter. When she would ever tell them what happened, she didn’t know. For now, they had to grow up healthy. • • • As the sun rose into the morning sky to greet the ponies who were preparing for their days, Mrs. Smith couldn’t bring a smile to her lonely face. In her house, there were three sleeping young’n’s who had no idea what had happened. And here she was, in the lonesome dew laden cool of the burgeoning day shoveling the last bit of dirt onto her daughter’s grave. She hadn’t shed a single tear, or even let a single hint of her real feelings manage their way to the surface. It wouldn’t do to dwell on, so she said a few words. “Farewell kiddo. Ya lived a good life, and ya enjoyed it. Sorry ya had t’leave so soon. Say howdy to yer Pa fer me.” She took a deep breath, and dragged the worn bottom of an apple barrel over the mound of dirt and carved a simple message into it. May Celestia Guide You. That’ll do. She had led quite a full life, and it did break her heart to think that her child wouldn’t have the same opportunity. Well, it wasn’t worth thinking about too long. She had three young mouths to feed and that meant she had to start working again. • • • As the days carried on, she got back into the rhythm of working the farm. It wasn’t something that should have come to easy to her, but she was driven to take care of her grandchildren. It just made it easier to put them at the forefront of her mind and forget all else. She kept count of the trees as she hammered into their trunks with her rear hooves. She needed to manage at least 75 of them to get the bushels she needed. She would take all but one of them into town in order to sell them. The one she didn’t take, she would bake into some foods for her grandchildren. That was her entire day, up before the sun and kicking the trees that still had apples. It would take awhile, but she’d manage the entire crop in a few weeks time and that would be a welcome respite. She didn’t exactly like to think of enjoying a break, but then she could spend some proper time with her grandchildren during one. • • • Sales hadn’t gone very well, the night wasn’t absent of them altogether, but she felt she could have done a lot better. She was well enough respected in town to be heard when she made her pitch, but that didn’t seem to make much of a difference anymore. It was true that Sweet Apple Acres provided the very sweetest and juiciest apples, but then it took her so long to harvest them that roughly half the bushels had turned before she had a chance to start selling. Unfortunately, one bad apple spoils the bunch, and even bunches that hadn’t completely turned didn’t meet Mrs. Smith’s approval. So she took with her only 5 full bushels and 1 half that was the most recently harvested. She didn’t have much product to sell, and using them in treats was going to wear out her supply in literally no time at all. She had to sell them whole, and unfortunately they weren’t as popular that way. In fact, most ponies wondered why Mrs. Smith hadn’t baked up a bunch of her special treats; they would have bought those happily. She was completely exhausted as she made her way back to the farmland, and up to the worn down house. She stopped, hearing something familiar off in the distance. It was late, who would be kicking trees at this hour? She changed direction, and headed for the west field and as she drew upon it the noises became louder and more distinct. She stopped when she saw that red-coated colt banging away at one of the trees, but he wasn’t meeting with much success. She sighed and rolled her eyes. Well that was fine, the whipper snapper was going to get himself sucked into this life now, was he? She marched up behind him, and cleared her throat before speaking “And just what in blazes do ya think yer doin’?” she bellowed. She was a tough lady, and Big Mac knew that from the start. He hadn’t gotten to see much of her before now, his mother never really came to the farm much but when they did visit you could be sure that Granny Smith had a story or two to tell. He was never sure how much truth there was behind any of them, but that never stopped him from marveling. “I… uh… Well, I was jus’ tryin’ to get the apples o’ this here tree…” he said quietly. When she talked about work, she was the most intimidating mare in the world. “Well, ya ain’t gonna make a dang one of ‘em fall thatta way.” She said stiffly. “You ain’t that strong yet.” “But…” “Yet.” She repeated. Big Macintosh wasn’t sure how to take that. He just started backing away as she approached him. “Ya see, ya gotta work out them hind quarters of yers… Gotta learn to tense up them leg muscles o’ yers and pound the daylights out of the tree. Treat the dern thing like it just spoke ill o’ yer family.” She said. He hung on to every single world, realizing that she wasn’t reprimanding him, she was instructing him. “But it’s late now, colt. Go on now; get on back to the house. I’ll be there lickity split.” She watched him gallop off to the house, and sighed, looking at the tree he had been kicking. “Colt barely caused ya to tremble, huh?” she asked the tree, eliciting a response nopony but she could hear. She shook her head, and sat on her haunches and gazed at the night sky. Is that colt really going to do this? He is the right size to be working the fields, after all. I… I could use the help around here.. She felt guilty for thinking that way; her grandson was not to be thought of in terms of labor. She couldn’t help it though, she wanted all of her grandchildren to feel like they were helping out and being productive, but at the same time she wanted them to lead their own lives. In much the same way her father let her lead her own, and if it weren’t for that, Ponyville might not even be around. It was a tough couple of weeks leading up to this moment, and she was exhausted. She looked out over the fields littered with apple filled trees, and sighed to herself. Well, he’ll learn to work it. I’ll start with him tomorrow.