Chapter 3
As ever, Applejack was awake just before the rooster crowed. Up and out of bed quickly, she tucked a blank piece of parchment and a pencil beneath her hat and made her way towards the guest bedroom ready to give a swift wake-up call to his royal highness. She had a list she needed to start writing.
He wasn't there.
Not only was he not there, the bed had been made immaculately. Every corner as sharp as a knife and every sheet folded with a precision that could only come from the military. It looked as though someone had taken a set-square to it.
The room itself was in impeccable order too. Shining Armor's saddlebags were stowed neatly at the foot of the bed, and every other item of furniture looked as though it had been placed at a slightly more ninety-degree angle than it had been the day before.
But Shining Armor was nowhere to be found. Were it not for the fact that his saddlebags were still there, Applejack would have assumed that he had snuck out in the middle of the night.
A faint noise from outside requested her attention, and she trotted to the window and looked out upon the flat patch of land at the front of the farmhouse.
And there he was, exercising. With the sun not even fully clear of the horizon, Shining Armor was out front running shuttles between the chicken coop and the water spigot, stopping every so often for a dozen or so push-ups before resuming his cantering. That earned him a measure of respect. Applejack wouldn't be putting 'lazy' on her list.
She called him to come inside and get breakfast. Ambling away from the window she made her way downstairs to the kitchen, only to find that breakfast was practically started already. Eggs, flour, butter, bread, oats, milk, jams, pots and pans were all arrayed ready for use, and as Shining Armor trotted in he didn't even break stride as he walked over to the counter-top and offered a friendly, "Morning. What would you like to eat?"
"Now you're just showin' off."
"Pancakes it is," he said with a smirk.
As breakfast was eaten, Applejack began listing all of the tasks they had to complete by the day's end. With applebuck season and cider season both over for this year, the chores mainly revolved around making the farm winter-proof before the first snows were due. Logs needed fetching and then cutting, bags of seed and grain needed to be stacked and stored so they wouldn't perish, farm equipment that wouldn't get much use in the coming months like plows, carts and harness-tractors needed to be stored out of the weather, and the general maintenance and fixing that was always needed had to be tended to as well.
And then there were the usual farming tasks that couldn't be neglected. Cows needed milking, pigs needed feeding, eggs needed collecting from the chickens...the list was a long one.
Shining Armor didn't seem fazed at all, listening attentively as they ate while Applejack finished her breakfast with a little more difficulty than usual. Shining Armor's pancakes were adequate, but slightly dry and irregular. Cooking clearly wasn't his strongest suit.
But he had made the effort and done the best he could. Applejack respected that. Nothing for her list there.
Breakfast over, the work began in earnest with Applejack and Shining Armor hauling and storing the heavy sacks of plant seed that would be needed once Winter Wrap Up rolled around in three months time. Shining Armor found that the labour, while tough, was strangely rewarding. There was a quiet satisfaction to be had and while he would be lying if he said he envisaged that this was how he would be spending his holiday, he was actually rather enjoying it. Though for some reason that seemed to irk Applejack slightly. He couldn't fathom why.
Well, if it was any consolation, he was certain he'd be aching tomorrow.
It took another hour to then round up the farm's collection of ploughs, tillers and dozers and store them safely from the weather, and once that was done it was time to fetch the firewood that would heat the home in the coming winter months.
Applejack and Shining Armor pulled a cart each down the narrow dirt track leading from the farmhouse about a hundred meters to the wood shed. On either side wide, soft grass verges greeted the treeline of the orchard, before giving way to the pitted, uneven path. It was only wide enough for the carts to pass in single file and the empty wagons bounced and jostled happily on their wooden wheels as they were merrily pulled along.
Once they reached the wood shed they each took to filling their carts with large, thick logs, ready to haul them back for chopping. Applejack insisted on filling both carts with nearly double the amount that they would usually take. Having the Prince pull an awkward, heavy cart back to the farm was sure to elicit a complaint or whine of some sort. In the end both carts were stacked almost farcically high and the weight was such that it took a fair effort to get them rolling.
They made their way back toward the farm proper, Shining Armor leading the way and Applejack pulling her cart close behind. She walked barely three feet behind the rear of the prince's wagon, urging him to keep up a brisk pace. The wooden walls of each cart creaked and protested at the excessive strain placed upon them, but they reached the half-way point without incident.
Then there was a crunch and a loud bang, Shining Armor's cart lurching violently as it struck a hidden rut in the track. As the cart's momentum carried it free the latch on the tailgate snapped, no longer able to cope with the sheer mass of wood shifting and pressing against it. The tailgate swung downwards and with a sound like furious thunder, scores of huge, heavy logs came crashing down straight at Applejack.
With no time to free herself from her harness, and with the weight of her own cart making it impossible to dodge or run, Applejack could only hunker down, shut her eyes tight and prepare for the worst.
This was going to hurt.
The rumbling subsided, but instead of the immediate and unrelenting pain of dozens of logs striking her body and burying her completely, Applejack felt only a pleasant, cool breeze ruffle her mane.
She dared to open her eyes and look up.
Suspended in the air inches from her, at least a hundred logs hung harmlessly in unnatural stillness. Then slowly they parted and descended to the ground, coming to rest quietly on the soft grass to either side of the track. It was only after the magical aura dissipated that Applejack realised it had been there at all, and her brain caught up to the reason why she had been spared a new bruise or three.
"Are you okay?" Shining Armor asked, genuine concern in his voice. He had already released his harness and walked hurriedly back to her, extending a hoof to help her up.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Ya got 'em all. Why don't you watch where you're pullin' that thing?"
"Sorry. These things are a little harder to pull than chariots."
Was that a complaint? Did that count for the purposes of the list?
Probably not, she decided. Especially given that he'd just saved her from being hurt, possibly quite badly, not to mention buried under a ton of wood. It would seem ungrateful somehow.
"Thanks." She looked up at him. "I appreciate it."
"Any time. Just glad you're alright," he smiled.
Shining Armor dipped his head and began gathering up the spilled wood one piece at a time, setting each log securely back on the bed of the cart. Applejack uncoupled her own harness and began to help him gather the wayward logs.
With both of them working together it didn't take long, and within sight of half an hour they had the cart filled again. A quick temporary repair to the latch secured the tailgate closed, and the two ponies pulled their cargo more carefully back to the farmhouse.
That was as good a time as any to take a break.
---
Twilight awoke to the sounds of more impromptu DIY wafting softly into her bedroom. He was still at it? It was unbelievable. For every little thing he fixed, he seemed to find three more jobs that needed doing. It was, frankly, ridiculous and Twilight had come to the conclusion last night that Big Macintosh was keeping himself busy so that he didn't have to talk to her at all. So she'd, rather huffily she admitted, left him to it and gone to bed.
She supposed it wouldn't do to start today on the same note as she'd left the previous evening, and she slowly roused herself and headed downstairs, ready to try and get things off on the right hoof. Big Macintosh was a tough nut to crack, but she'd think of something.
She made her way into the kitchen where she ate a quick breakfast of porridge and apple juice. Had she been a bit less bleary-eyed, she would have noticed that Spike still wasn't around, and yet the breakfast supplies were all out and ready.
Feeling a bit more chipper, she made her way to the library floor where Big Mac was now greasing the hinges on the front door.
"Good morning, Big Macintosh."
"Mornin'," he replied, not really diverting his attention from the task at hand.
"You haven't been up all night, have you?"
"Nope."
She'd forgotten that he was used to being late to bed and early to rise. Well, he didn't look tired so he must have slept. Although, she got the impression that Big Mac could probably go a week without sleep if he needed.
Big Macintosh finished with the oil can and gave the door a few motions back and forth to work the lubricant in. It made not a sound, and seemed much lighter on its hinges than it had ever been.
"That's...amazing," she blurted. "I've tried everything to get rid of that squeak!"
Big Macintosh merely dipped his head in a humble nod. Then he searched the room at large. Looking up at the ceiling, down at the floor, scanning each and every wall, shelf, fixture and fitting. Then he gave the tiniest of satisfied nods and looked at Twilight.
Twilight wasn't sure what she was expected to say. Evidently, Big Macintosh had run out of jobs to do. She didn't have any more to give him, and he still didn't seem in the mood for talking. She still didn't have a plan either, so she was at an awkward loss.
"Um...carry on, I guess. Whatever you would normally do."
Big Macintosh nodded deeply. He made his way over to one of the bookshelves and scanned it briefly. He had to stand on his hindlegs and reach with his teeth to retrieve the one he wanted. A blue-covered hardback, Twilight noted, but when she saw the title...
Aristotail on Philosophy.
Big Macintosh placed the book on the floor in front of him and flipped through as though looking for a specific page. Then he seemed to find it and settled himself, lying on his belly with his legs tucked underneath, and quietly began to read.
After a few moments he looked uncertainly up at Twilight. She was still standing there gawping, she realised. That book was one of her favourites on the subject, and it wasn't what you would call an easy read. Then she watched in horror as Big Macintosh developed a sheepish, apologetic expression, slowly closed the book and made to put it back on the shelf.
"Wait!" said Twilight, rushing over and practically flinging the book back open in front of him. "You're reading this?"
"Mine's at home," he said simply.
"But...you're reading Aristotail?"
Big Macintosh looked uncertain. It felt like he'd already answered that question. "Eeyup."
"That's amazing!" Twilight had never had anyone she could relate to philosophy with before. Pinkie Pie had tried once. It hadn't ended well. "What do you think of his theory on the disparity between a good pony and an honest one?"
Big Macintosh hesitated. He was going to have to answer that one, wasn't he? He drew a breath. "Just bein' honest don't make ya good. Needs more." Big Macintosh said, shaking his head slightly to emphasize the point.
"What? But what about..."
And so it began. A debate. Twilight was thrilled. She was talking and arguing philosophy with someone, and while Big Macintosh initially started with cagey, short answers, as she put forward more arguments he began to get more articulate, vocalising his own arguments to counter Twilight's, and Twilight would counter right back.
It went on for what seemed like hours, both ponies in full flow, and both with a full working knowledge of the subject. As they continued to match wits the topics of debate evolved in natural progression. The nature of honesty led to Truth, then Morality, Ethics, Hypothetics and even Jurisprudence were all considered at length and in detail. Yet somehow – which Twilight couldn't quite believe initially – they had differing views in almost every area. That was a first. She had, perhaps slightly arrogantly, believed that since she knew more about the subject than anypony else she knew, her views must logically have been the correct ones. But here and now, Big Macintosh was not only holding his own against her, he was – she couldn't quite believe this either – actually managing to get her to re-think some of her opinions and even change her mind!
It was wonderful.
Eventually, once the arguments had run their course, they reached a point upon which they simply opposed. They agreed to disagree and the argument finally ended. Twilight felt exhausted, as though she had just run a marathon with her brain. But she had actually learned. Her eyes had been opened to a new perspective and her views had improved. Thanks to Big Macintosh!
With the debate over, Big Macintosh turned his attention back to the book before him, threatening to retreat back into silence.
But Twilight wasn't ready to let him go. She had just started to get him to open up. They had had a real conversation. And while she was loathe to come between anypony and a good book, she felt she at least had to ask the one question that was now foremost in her mind.
"Big Macintosh?"
He looked up from the book.
"Why don't you talk more?"
Big Macintosh looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he spoke.
"Lotsa ponies talk. Ponies that talk the most're usually the ones least worth listenin' to."
"But if you don't talk at all...well...what if you need to tell somepony something?"
Big Macintosh smiled. "If somethin's worth sayin', usually ya don't need to talk to say it."
That sounded contradictory at first, then Twilight found his meaning. "You're...saying that actions speak louder than words?"
"Yup."
"Well, I suppose that makes...sense..." Twilight trailed off. As though on cue, her eye was drawn to the wall behind Big Macintosh, where a familiar crack was strangely absent. Her gaze travelled onward to the loose bookshelf she had been meaning to fix, now solid as a rock. Then her ears and her memory kicked in as she recalled the squeakless front door, and the creaky step on the staircase that, when she came down this morning, hadn't creaked.
Around and around the room she searched, her gaze travelling slowly upward in clockwise spirals, finding more and more subtle improvements. And then when she reached the ceiling, she stepped back and looked at the room as a whole.
And she saw it.
The library was immaculate. It hadn't been in poor repair before, that she'd noticed, but now it was absolutely pristine. And it wasn't just the cleanliness. Everything looked completely brand new, as though it had just been opened yesterday.
Big Macintosh hadn't done any one thing. In fact everything he'd done could easily have gone unnoticed. But every little detail – every nook cleaned and every hinge oiled – added up to make a huge difference that was a world away from the library she knew.
And the epiphany hit her.
This was her home. The place where she lived. The roof over her head that sheltered her and the walls that kept her warm. Where she had her most private thoughts and loudest tantrums. The site of her most accomplished successes and worst, tortured failures. When she was here she was happy. When she was here she was safe. When she was here she was the most content she could ever be.
Because it was home.
And what better way was there of showing somepony that you cared for them, than by doing everything you could to keep them safe. To keep them happy. To keep the roof over their heads, and the warmth in the walls. This was what Big Macintosh did. Yesterday she had said it was all he did, and she realised now what an unfair thought that had been. Because even if it only meant fixing a draughty window here, or a leaky pipe there, they were the most important jobs in the world.
And every day, morning, noon and night, he did it for Applejack and the rest of his family. Never stopping. Never tiring. He cared for them.
It suddenly made a lot more sense that Applejack thought him the best brother in the world.
Twilight looked in awe at Big Macintosh, who suddenly had a kind smile on his face, as though he knew exactly what she was thinking.
"I understand now," she said softly.
"Eeyup."
The elation that followed the epiphany made her want to shout, laugh and cry at the same time. She couldn't believe she hadn't seen it before. She had to tell someone. Scratch that, she had to tell Applejack!
"Nope."
"What?"
Big Macintosh walked over to Twilight and, placing his hoof on top of her rump, pushed gently but firmly down so that she ended up sitting. "AJ ain't quite done with yer brother. She'll get there. But when she gets stubborn, can take a while fer the blinkers to come off. She needs to see it on her own."
Twilight nodded. It was hard. She wanted nothing more than to go to Applejack and apologise over how silly she suddenly realised this whole thing was. But if Applejack was in for a revelation of her own, she would reluctantly wait it out.
As though prompted by Big Macintosh and Applejack being in her thoughts at the same time, her mind wandered back to the day before yesterday, and the beginning of this whole affair.
"Mind if I ask you a personal question?"
Big Mac shook his head.
"When you and Applejack fight...does it bring you closer together?"
Big Macintosh smiled kindly. He gave a slight nod, but then began, "'S not the fightin', it's more the forgivin'." He paused a moment. That wasn't quite the full explanation. Further elucidation was warranted. He looked down at Twilight.
"Me an' AJ've been through some tough times together. Long time ago...we both realised there was no fight in the world worth drivin' us apart. Can't change who we are though, so fights'll still happen time-to-time. But I'll always forgive her, because I can't stand to see her sad when I can make her happy. And when she forgives me...reminds me how lucky I am to have her for a sister."
Twilight looked at him. He was wearing the same faint smile she had seen the other day, as he and his sister had hugged on the verge of tears. She was quiet. Her brain processed. It made more sense now. It wasn't fighting itself that brought ponies together, but fighting was a pre-requisite. Why hadn't she made the connection before? She had the necessary modification to her theory, and she found the familiar sense of satisfaction that came from a problem finally solved.
But there was one more question.
"What...do you and Applejack fight about?"
For a moment, Big Macintosh's face became grave. "'S always different..." he said, a little weakly. Twilight began to manufacture a follow-up question but Big Macintosh must have noticed, because he then took a deep breath that was ever so slightly ragged, and began again.
"Honestly can't remember what the last fight we had was. But the fight before that...she comes home an' says she's gotta climb a mountain and fight a dragon with her new friends. I said no. We fought. She yelled. I yelled back louder.
"But she got that look in her eye she gets when there's no talkin' to her. She said you needed her help and there was no way she was gonna let you down. I...gave in. Put a brave face on. Even put the saddlebags on her myself." Big Macintosh's normally level voice was wavering, his face a picture of regret, and his eyes glistened with tears as he tried not to cry. "I sent her off, and honestly thought she wouldn't be comin' back."
There was a brief pause while he composed himself. Then he spoke again, his voice tinged with melancholic resignation. "AJ's always been one for adventurin'. She's always goin' off with y'all to fight manticores an' dragons an' demigods an' changelings. And so far she's always come back okay. But...one day, she won't."
His voice carried a quiet acceptance that Twilight found heart-wrenching. Big Macintosh's sole purpose was to keep his family safe...and he believed he was doomed to fail. That it was only a matter of time before he lost the most important thing in the world.
Twilight's memory began to engage. The journey up the mountain had been a long time ago, but one thing at least she remembered clear as a bell.
Everypony froze, no-one daring to move as Fluttershy's scream echoed into the distance. For a moment all was still, and Twilight nearly breathed a sigh of relief. Then...a dreadful, low rumble coursing through the very rock of the mountainside, causing the ground beneath their hooves to tremble. Instinctively she took a step back, and then another as the rocks began to fall.
Screams of fear issued from all around her as her friends frantically ran for their lives. Hundreds of boulders, some the size of houses, came crashing down the cliff face onto the mountain pass threatening to crush or bury any unlucky pony caught beneath.
Twilight ran, trying in vain to keep track of all of her friends as well as the falling rocks, barely managing to avoid several as they thundered down, throwing up clouds of blinding dust and causing the ground itself to crack and quake.
She looked up and saw it too late. A huge boulder tumbling towards her, blotting out the sky. There was nothing she could do. She had no time.
"Oh, No. NO!" she managed. This was it.
Oddly enough, though only a split second from certain doom, she felt no fear. Not really. Instead there was only an overwhelming sense of despondency.
She had failed. She had let her teacher down. She had let all of Equestria down. And her friends...her friends most of all. She had let them down.
She was going to miss them.
From nowhere, something warm and soft cannoned into her right flank, sending her flying sideways. She felt the impact of the huge rock close by, but she was tumbling now, spinning head over hooves, unable to see anything except a mass of orange and yellow.
She came to rest as a final few small stones careered happily down the mountainside to join their larger bretheren, and with much relief heard the sound of all five of her friends coughing and getting their breath. Directly opposite her lay Applejack, already looking around and doing her own pony head-count.
"Everypony okay?" asked Applejack before looking back to Twilight.
Twilight leaned forward and gave her friend a very grateful nuzzle.
"Thanks to you I am."
Applejack had saved her life that day, but Big Macintosh was right. None of her friends would even have been in danger if it weren't for her. "You wish she'd never met me...because I put her at risk..." Twilight concluded quietly. She'd never thought about it like that before.
"Nope." He shook his head firmly.
Twilight looked up with surprise at Big Macintosh. Tears were still in his eyes, but his smile was wider now.
"'M glad she met you. Bein' friends with you makes her happy," he said simply. Smiling he might be, but his eyes retained that sad look.
Twilight floundered, uncertain and morose for a moment. She wanted to be able to tell him that the days of taking her friends on dangerous adventures were over; that she would never again need Applejack's help in a risky endeavour. But she knew in her heart it wasn't the truth.
And then with sudden clarity she realised that, far from being the enemy, the truth was actually on her side. Twilight stood and fixed Big Macintosh with her most determined gaze. This was the truth:
"Applejack is special to me. I know how lucky I am to call her a friend, and I care about my friends more than anything in the world." Her face hardened, and steely resolve bolstered her tone. "And I promise I will never let my friends get hurt. I will never abandon them, or put them in danger. And I will always make sure they come home safely. Every. Single. Time!" She stamped her hoof to emphasize the point.
There was such conviction in her voice – such utter and total confidence – that Big Macintosh was taken aback with surprise.
He studied her closely for a moment. There were very few ponies who could keep such a promise, and had it come from anypony else he would have dismissed it as a hollow gesture. But here and now...
"Reckon I believe you."
Maybe he wasn't doomed to fail after all.