Chapter Six
I watched the last of the day's prospective customers hurry home, eager to get out of the falling snow. I wasn't thrilled to be out in it myself, but during the winter, especially around Hearth's Warming Eve, ponies appreciated having fresh apples and warm apple-y treats available. I was one of the last produce vendors in the market this time of year, since few other ponies' crops kept as well as apples, months after picking.
I shuffled through the snow out from behind my cart and gave the little two-wheeled wagon a light buck to dislodge the fluffy white blanket from its awning. Rarity had replaced the old green and white striped fabric, faded from years out in the sun, with a deep crimson bearing a bold green block print around the hem. The apple-shaped bobble fringe had been stripped as well, replaced by a new, clever fringe shaped and colored to look like autumn leaves. The wood of the cart, a pale blonde before, was now a rich chocolate brown, stained and sealed against the weather. The darker color really let the bright color of the fruit pop, Rarity had explained, and I couldn't argue with her.
While the cart was definitely more attractive now, it hadn't done much to drive sales. A couple of out-of-towners had asked who had designed the cart, and ended up visiting Rarity's boutique as a result, without even buying any apples! That was about par for the course, I thought, as I packed up the cart and began the trudge home.
I thought back to last Monday, holed up in the library with Twilight. She'd gone over my books, but had found little she could suggest.
“I've re-read everything on my shelves about business and enough on agriculture to qualify as an amateur pomologist, but nothing I've learned would get your farm out of the red fast enough to save it without incurring massive debt!” The alicorn slumped muzzle-first into the book she'd been poring through. A purple hoof shot out to wave at a stack nearby. “I wasted my time on half the books in here, too. So many business texts fixate on managing employees instead of refining manufacturing processes! If there's one problem you don't have, it's employee management.”
I browsed the titles of the dozens of books spread across the table, and felt both better and worse at once. Worse because none of them had been any help and Twilight had worked so many hours absorbing their contents for nothing, but better because even with the benefit of more book-learning I may have ended up in the same straits. “Ah'm sorry Twi. D'you think Canterlot might have somethin' better suited to our situation?”
“It's possible. Spike? Spike! I need you to send a note to Celes—no, better make it Luna, this late. She can pass it on to the palace librarian.”
Spike stumbled downstairs, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Twi, you're still up? You need to sleep! You hardly got a wink last night, just like the night before!”
I squinted at Twilight. Only candle and lantern light illuminated the library this late at night, and the bags beneath her eyes had looked like shadows. Seeing them for what they were was alarming.
“Sugarcube, what's wrong? Don't tell me you've been losing sleep on mah account!”
She waved my words away like a puff of unpleasant smoke. “No, no, I...I didn't want to sleep.”
“More like was afraid to sleep. She's been having nightmares ever since she came back from that ocean voyage,” Spike said, hopping up on a free stool. He planted his paws on the table, leaning over a stack of books to get right in Twilight's face. “You wouldn't tell me what happened down there, but from all the moaning you do in your sleep I've got half the story anyways! Eels, misusing your magic, getting punished by Celestia?”
Twilight crumpled, Spike recoiling as she sagged to the table. “She, she should've taken my wings back. She should lock me up! I'm a monster!”
I darted around the table to slide my forelegs around her shoulders, while Spike clung to her side, trying to steady a body wracked with sobs.
“I c-can't close my eyes without seeing him, writhing, scorched and burning, confused!”
“Twilight, you saved all of us and the sea ponies from him, and you even got Achilles' problems solved in the end. Y'have to let this guilt go!”
She tried to push me away. “You think I haven't tried?! You think I haven't talked it through in my head, over and over? Logic has no place in this! It doesn't listen to reason!”
“Then just talk to us, Twi. Let it out." She finally stopped resisting my embrace. I stroked a hoof through her mane while she leaned into me, her panic-tinged breaths hot against my neck. "Spike's beside hisself, and needs to know how best to take care of ya. Come on, go on upstairs. Ah'll get us some tea.”
We'd talked it out for hours. I made Twi promise to tell Luna about her nightmares, though privately I'd wondered why the Princess in charge of dreams hadn't already intervened. Remembering the suffering and exhaustion on Twilight's face reopened the wound in me, letting fresh guilt well up. It was just another thing I held myself responsible for. Would I screw up all of my friends before I was done?
Fluttershy had finally found a site to relocate the fruit bats to, and just in time. They had already started to cluster for the winter, but with Twilight's magic, we had managed to shift them to a grove in the Everfree full of wild and overgrown peach trees.
Pinkie continued to send us meals, though just two a day now, as we were straining her resources a bit, even with one less pony in the house now.
My scarf and wool-lined jacket did only so much to keep out the cold, so it was a real relief to park the cart and hurry into the house, knocking my boots off on the door jamb first. I stood in the sitting room for a moment, listening to the soft tick of the clock, and hearing nothing else.
The sight of Granny's empty rocking chair brought a scowl to my face, and I kicked my boots off onto the mat beside the door with a lot more force than needed.
"You go to a hospital to get better, not worse," I muttered. Catching pneumonia had weakened her so much, we had nearly lost her again, and it was an uphill fight for Granny every day to regain her strength.
Apple Bloom had been absent from the house and the farm in general more and more. Mac had talked to Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, and they had told him she doesn't like to talk about home life. She just seemed to want to escape.
With Mac's taciturn nature and his need to turn in early every night with the extra chores he was having to do, the farm house had never been so quiet and empty. It felt wrong, like the very life had been drained from the house. I knew it was my imagination, but it felt like even the light was off in every room, too bright and glaring when it used to be gentle and welcoming.
I took off the rest of my winter gear, just in time to get blasted with winter air as Pinkie kicked open the door.
"Dinner time!" She skipped inside, saddlebags bulging, pausing just long enough to shake snow off of herself like Winona would. Relatively clean, she headed straight for the dining room. I followed, keeping my distance from the unpredictable mass of Pinkie's floofy tail, and wasn't surprised to see Mac dozing at the table.
Pinkie set out a few different parcels and opened them to reveal pot pies filled with veggies and savory gravy, buttery biscuits baked with herbs, and for dessert, a small chocolate cake. She did it all without a sound, managing not to wake Mac, then dragged me back to the sitting room by one hoof.
She settled on the couch, tugging me down beside her. "How are things?" Pinkie swung her booted hooves slowly, but otherwise remained rather sober, an attitude I was always grateful for when she asked me about this stuff. If she'd come on with her usual gleeful energy, as genuine as her concern might have been, I don't know if I could've read it as sincere.
"Well, Ah sure do appreciate everything you and the girls have done for us, Pinkie. Ah never should've hidden anything from you in the first place."
Pinkie rotated one forehoof around the other in a 'hurry up' motion. "You've told me that every time I've come over, silly fruit-filly! How are things?"
I shook my head. "Ah don't think it's going to make any difference. Not in time. Maybe if the timin' had been different, and y'all could've helped with the harvest and cider season, instead of now when there's not much a'tall left to do but care for the animals and sell what we've stocked up." I lifted a hindleg and rubbed it, willing warmth back into the limb.
Pinkie sighed, her head sagging towards the floor a bit. "What about you? Gotten your strength back?"
I flexed the leg I was rubbing, and nodded. "Ah'm gettin' there. Doc says Ah've gained weight back, and mah stomach isn't botherin' me near as much now, so Ah'm able to do justice to the meals you bring."
"And how's your mood been?" She looked me straight in the eye, and I knew it was no use lying. What purpose would it serve? Even if she couldn't help, at least I wouldn't have to exert the energy keeping up a mask around her.
"Not great. It's...getting harder every mornin' to get up and get to work. It doesn't seem like there's much point, y'know? Then Ah think of all the effort y'all went to, and are still going to, and Mac workin' himself so hard, and Ah can't bring myself to shut that all out and hibernate in bed like Ah want to."
Pinkie winced, and gave me a good squeeze, hugging me in against her side. Melted snow on her scarf dampened my coat. She released me from the hug, and caught my gaze again.
"Being powered by guilt isn't the best I could hope for, but you definitely don't want to make like a bear and ball up. Once you shut yourself off from the sun, from other ponies completely, it gets a lot harder to come back." She shook her head, shutting her eyes a moment. "I never did myself, it wouldn't have been allowed on the rock farm, but I made a friend here in Ponyville afterwards that did withdraw like that."
I guess I couldn't keep the surprise from my face, because Pinkie smiled, and gave my ponytail a bounce with her hoof. "Yes AJ, a lot of ponies get depressed. Not all of them are depressed for a looong time, but some are. There are tons of reasons for a pony to get depressed, and sometimes there doesn't seem to be a reason at all! They just feel sad, and...and wrong, and it never gets any better with the next day, or the next." She squinted at me. "Your counselor, Doctor—"
"Textbook."
"—Textbook hasn't mentioned any of this? Let you know you're not alone?"
I thought back to the sessions I'd had with Textbook Definition and couldn't remember anything about him mentioning depression being common. "He mentioned 'winter blahs' but otherwise? Ah guess it hasn't come up." The sessions since the first hadn't gotten any better, and my mind tended to wander whenever he got on a tear about one thing or another, so I kept missing instructions and exercises he wanted me to carry out. He never asked about the 'homework' at the next session though, so he hadn't caught on to my blanking out yet.
Pinkie's lips quirked downward when I mentioned the blahs. "I think you should check and see if there's anyone else there you can try. Do you feel any better after a session? Do you feel he's someone you can confide in?"
I didn't have to think about it at all to shake my head to both questions.
"There! He's no good!" Pinkie shouted, chin lifted and eyes blazing. A bang and a clatter of flatware from the dining room told us Mac had been rudely awakened.
"So yeah, dinner time. See you tomorrow, AJ. We're gonna beat this." She gave me another squeeze, nearly crushing my bones to powder, before darting out the door into the now-dark evening.
I nudged the door shut against the cold, snowy night, then dragged myself through the too-quiet house to the dinner table. Mac was waiting for me, blinking at his pot pie. He looked up when I plopped into my chair, dragging my own pie closer.
"Are we even treadin' water Mac?" I asked, fork slicing through the flaky crust, letting gravy and vegetables spill out. "Or are we just sinkin' slower?"
"We're doing all we can. The longer we keep from sinkin' the longer we have to figure out a way out of this mess. All of us are workin' on the problem now, AJ." He tapped his head with a hoof nearly the size of his plate. "We're bound to hatch an idea sooner or later."
We ate quietly, thinking, or maybe just too tired to speak sensibly any more. I kept catching Apple Bloom's plate out of the corner of my eye, and it was like a kick in the gut every time, seeing her seat empty.
I was about to get up and venture out to look for her when the door banged open, a snow-covered filly stumbling in. She stomped herself largely clean, unwound her scarf and spat it onto the coat rack.
"Dinner's waitin' Apple Bloom. There's some chocolate—"
"Already ate. G'nite," she mumbled, and started upstairs.
Mac eyed me, and I knew what he expected. We ate as a family, and this behavior from our little sister wouldn't stand. But bawling her out and forcing her to sit somewhere she didn't want to sit wasn't likely to make her want to start spending more time at the house, now was it? I shook my head at Mac, and cut him a slice of cake.
"Ah'll read her a story tonight, if she lets me." If tonight was like the others since I'd returned to the house, I knew how that would turn out.
I ate a slice of cake myself, then bundled the leftovers into the ice-box before heading upstairs. I tapped on Apple Bloom's door, and almost stumbled forward when it opened, not quite latched.
Apple Bloom was in bed, back turned towards me, a nightlight providing a fair bit of illumination. I took a few steps into the room, avoiding some crayon drawings and a barrel hoop on the floor.
"Apple Bloom?" I murmured, watching the red-maned blanket-lump. When she didn't respond, I drew closer and sat on the bed, just being there with her for a moment.
"Sugarcube, Ah know things have been real rough lately. Ah'm sorry to say we aren't out of the woods yet. Ah won't lie to you. You did rack up a lot of bills, but Apple Bloom, it only accelerated somethin' that was happenin' anyways. Can you trust me on that?"
I rested a hoof on the lump. It sniffled, and a wet "Uh-huh," drifted up to me.
"Okay. As for Granny, that was poor timin' Ah admit. She had to be told sometime though. It should've been me or Mac who told her, but neither of us had the guts to do it, 'cuz we were afraid she'd do exactly what she did. But if we'd broken it to her gentle-like, maybe things would've been different. It's our fault, your brother and sister, for not actin' our age and takin' responsibility. Don't go taking that on yourself. It happened, and bad things do happen, even to good ponies."
"But why do they happen?" Apple Bloom twisted around to face me, tears falling freely to the sheets. "Granny Smith is the sweetest old pony anywhere, and she's been so sick and miserable, wrapped in all those wires, so weak!"
I sprawled beside her, tucking the shuddering filly in against my chest. "Rain falls on the fair and the foul, Ah guess. Things...happen, good and bad, and sometimes a lot of bad things stack up in a short time. You can spend so much time fussin' over the bad that you don't even see the good, or worse, you miss out on it totally, so there's only the bad."
As true as the words were, I felt shame growing in my breast as I recited them for Apple Bloom. I knew these scraps of wisdom, but I'd forgotten them, or let the bad events that had piled up obscure everything else, even the memories that could have helped me.
"Mac and Ah miss you, sugarcube," I whispered, tears of my own leaking into her mane. I squeezed her tighter. "The house don't feel right without you here."
"I-it doesn't feel right without Granny either." Her crying and sniffling ebbed a bit. "It's been hard watchin' you too. You're so much quieter than you used to be. I haven't seen you play horseshoes, or practice your ropin' in forever. S'like someone came along and...pressed all the juice outta you."
Technically what was left after juicing was still an 'apple' but not one anypony would recognize or want to eat. I gave her left ear a kiss.
"T-the kids at school..." She sniffled hard, and rubbed at her nose with a hoof. "Some of 'em said you're crazy."
How right were they, really? "They wouldn't know crazy if it bit 'em on the flank."
"B-but, I told 'em you told me about that doctor you were seeing, talkin' to about your problems, and they said only crazy ponies have to do that."
I sighed, and squeezed my sister closer. "Ah'm just sick, not crazy, sugarcube. And Ah'm getting better. It'll just take time, okay?" Yeah, you sounded real convincing there, AJ. Can't you even put enough energy into it to stop your little sister from worrying?
"'Kay." She dragged her pillow closer, tucking it under her cheek.
"Ready to sleep now?"
"Yeah. 'Night big sis."
"Night night lil sis." I nuzzled a kiss into her mane, then slipped off her bed. After fixing her covers, I slipped out into the hall, and pulled her door shut. After a moment, I felt my mouth relax into a smile. At least one thing had changed for the better.
The next morning's routine was more of the same, and by seven-thirty I was in town square with my cart, hawking apples and fresh-baked pies. Business was brisk for a change, as the sun shone nicely all morning. When afternoon rolled around though, the weather team moved the clouds back in, and a chill enfolded my bones again.
A pair of earth ponies I'd never seen in town before were hanging around the square, occasionally talking to a passer-by or shop owner. Whatever they were offering, nopony in Ponyville seemed interested. Some rejected the pair very loudly indeed.
I realized that old-AJ would have confronted the pair, upsetting folks as they were, but I couldn't bring myself to intervene. I only had so much energy to spend in a day, and more and more I had to pick my battles.
As the day dragged on, I watched the two come and go, likely visiting other parts of town. Before I could really dwell much on the pair, I noticed a crowd growing at the other end of the square. It was lunch time, and ordinarily business would be brisk. Ponies were even leaving their stalls, pulled like iron filings to a magnet.
"I wonder what—no, I've got apples to sell. Whatever it is, it ain't apples, and they'll be back my way eventually." I did my best to quell my curiosity, and checked the cart's display.
A familiar multi-hued streak overhead drew my attention back towards the square. Rainbow Dash hovered over the thick of the crowd, waving a sack of bits and yelling.
“Okay, now I just gotta know what's happening.” I turned and trotted towards the small mob of ponies, passing stalls and carts that their owners had apparently deserted.
A familiar voice finally rose above the hubbub as I drew closer. “Mares and gentlecolts, please don't push! You will all get the opportunity to purchase cider reservations for the comin' year!”
My ears flicked flat to my head. “What? Apple Bloom!”
I began shoving through the crowd, but it was surprisingly tough going. Ponies were serious about this, and it wasn't until they saw just who was trying to get past them that they gave way, however reluctantly. After three minutes of wading through the milling mass of ponies, I gave up on any semblance of politeness.
“Make a hole! Cider police comin' through!”
Finally I made some progress and reached a makeshift stand precariously balanced atop the wagon Scootaloo used to tow her friends around in. Apple Bloom blinked up at me, then grinned, just a trace of unease warping the corners of her smile.
“O-oh, hi AJ.”
“What 'xactly is goin' on here, Apple Bloom?”
Sweetie Belle popped up beside her crusader sister. “We're selling cider reservations!”
Scootaloo appeared at AB's other elbow, the three crowded together behind the tiny stand. “There are a lot of ponies who don't get as much cider as they want during cider season, or any cider at all even, so we thought this could be a good way to...”
“To make some more money for the farm,” Apple Bloom finished, drumming her hooves on the stand.
I pulled a hoof down the length of my face. “Apple Bloom, we can't do that! It's first come, first served, and that's the way it's always been. We can't take any sort of orders in advance or make any kind of promises like this, especially for bits! We can never be sure what the harvest will be like!”
The three crusaders nodded. “We know. And so do they,” Apple Bloom pointed to the crowd. “We made it very clear that the reservations aren't a promise, just a, uh,”
“Preference!” Sweetie Belle chirped.
“Right, preference.”
Rainbow Dash flapped her way down to the ground, forcing the close press of ponies to make room for her. “AJ, c'mon, they thought it through pretty well! This way I'll finally get some cider before Pinkie buys half of it!”
I flicked my ear when I heard Apple Bloom whisper to Scootaloo. “S-should we tell her Pinkie bought 50 mugservations while she flew off to fetch her bits?”
Rainbow heard them just as well as I did, and her face crumpled. Actual honest-to-Celestia tears pooled in her eyes.
“Rainbow, just... Rrrgh, this has all gotten so complicated!” I stomped a hoof and tossed my head, feeling my mane whip the back of my neck. “Ah wish you'd talked this over with me first, girls.”
Apple Bloom dropped her eyes from mine, and ran a hoof along the edge of their stand. "Ah...Ah had to do something, sis. You and Mac are workin' so hard. Granny's still laid up." She set her little jaw and met my gaze again. "After all the times Ah screwed up, it's only fair Ah do somethin' to pitch in!"
Sweetie Belle gave my little sister a hug, tucking her muzzle in behind her ear. When she surfaced from the candy apple-colored mane, her eyes shimmered up at me. "Scootaloo and I just had to help. We felt awful when we heard our, um,"
"Hijinks?" I supplied.
"Yeah, those. When our hojunks messed things up for your family so badly."
"Dunno if you noticed, but we've been trying to cool it for a while now." Scootaloo shot me half a grin, her drooping ears broadcasting her guilt.
"That's mighty sweet of you girls, and Ah do appreciate you taking it easy for a bit. Ah just don't know about this cider business, though!"
Carrot Top nudged out of the crowd and spoke up. “Applejack, I can't speak for everypony here, but we aren't buying these things just because we love your family's cider.”
A generally positive murmur went up behind her. The farmer glanced back at the mob before continuing. “We're paying twice you know. The reservation doesn't pay for the cider, just assures us preference in getting the opportunity to buy it. We think your cider is worth paying twice for. We think Sweet Apple Acres is worth it, and we think you and your family are worth it.”
Carrot Top stepped closer, resting a hoof on my shoulder. “We're neighbors, and I've seen first-hoof the kindness, generosity, and honesty of the Apples. Your family may as well be neighbors to the whole town though, for all you do for us. From saving us from stampedes, to giving us great times on your farm, to lending a helping hoof without even being asked.” She dropped the hoof to thrust it at the crusaders. “I'm happy to do my part to help keep the Apples in Sweet Apple Acres! It wouldn't be nearly as sweet without them.”
A rousing cheer went up from the crowd, and I found myself fielding a seemingly-endless chain of hoofshakes, hugs, and hoofbumps from excited ponies. When the dust settled, a pile of bits the size of Apple Bloom sat in the wagon. I stared at it, conflict rampant within me.
Dash wrapped a foreleg around my neck, plopped my hat atop her own head, and tousled my mane. “Well AJ, it sorta looks like Ponyville might want to keep you around, doesn't it? Kinda even looks like it's because you're so awesome, not just because you're the only apple supplier around here. They're not even your close friends, so you can't say they're biased.” She practically leered at me, radiating so much smug I was surprised it didn't form a cloud she could walk on.
“Yeah, well, they could just all be cider junkies like you. Ah swear there's nothin' addictive about our cider, but ponies like you make me wonder, Dash.” I shoved her off and stole back my hat before she could get airborne and taunt me with it.
“Just remember this, AJ,” Rainbow said, expression settling into serious lines. She trotted over to the pile of bits, and swept her hoof over it. “You're not worthless. You never were. You're worth waaaaaaaay more than bits could ever cover, but as a token effort, this wasn't bad.”
Embarrassed heat and a flush of pleasure ensured I barely felt the cold for the next hour.
By the time I packed up the cart that night, I noticed I was alone in the square apart from the pair of unfamiliar ponies I'd noticed earlier. They were shivering in the lee of a building as wind blew flurries about and the sun began to think seriously about setting. The mare leaned on the stallion, while he tried to position their single travel-bag to better block the wind for both of them. I heaved a sigh, and wandered over.
"D'you two have somewhere to spend the night? Ah can offer you some room in mah barn if you don't mind sharin' it with some animals."
"That'd be swell, lady! My sistah and I have been looking for work since we god heah, but we ain't found nuffin' yet." The stallion gestured to his companion. "This is Tacks, and I'm Brass." Tacks' cutie mark was literal, a crossed pair of tacks with very sharp-looking points. Brass' flank sported a row of gleaming, yellow metal buttons. It was one of the biggest, boldest cutie marks I'd ever seen, nearly oversized for his body.
"Y'all from Manehattan? Ah've got some kin there." I waved them to follow me, and headed back to the cart, hitching myself up.
"Golly, you've been standin' out here all day sellin' apples? Lady, you need some advertisin' or something. If you've got the goods, why not make 'em come to you?" Brass shook his head, pale red mane shedding a puff of snow. "Beats comin' out here."
"The name's Applejack, by the way. Beats 'lady,'" I muttered, pulling the cart towards home. "Sometimes you have to go to where the customers are."
"That's just stupid," Brass said, not cruelly, just stated as a simple fact. "If you're out here every day, I bet d'ere all makin' measly lil purchases, ain't they? I betcha if you stayed home warm and snug, they'd wait 'til they couldn't stand the thought of anudder day wifout apples, come to your farm, and buy tons atta time."
Tacks trotted up on my other side, her red mane and bold yellow coat a perfect match for her brother's. In fact, the two reminded me of another pair of twins that had accosted Ponyville and Sweet Apple Acres specifically before, if only in color.
"Sorry about him," she winked, "we'ah both a little, uh, direct." Her ears drooped. "Our parents insisted it was a virtue, but really it's caused us nuffin' but trouble most of our lives."
"Tell me about it," Brass sighed. "Like that gray pegasus deliverin' mail. I tried to tell her she should get her eyes looked at, and then asked if there were any openings at the post office, and she just about knocked us over flyin' away!"
I groaned inside my head. No good deed goes unpunished. These two were going to be tons of fun to have around. "Well, a little more thought might've convinced you that if none of her friends here in town had told her about her eyes, that it was probably somethin' she's been living with for a long time, and could be powerful sensitive about?"
Brass pondered that a moment, almost running into the fence post beside the gate at the farm. "Nah, she woulda told me insteada just flyin' off."
I glanced at Tacks, who rolled her eyes and mouthed the word 'thick' at me. I smirked a tiny bit, and parked the wagon. I paused before the doors of the barn, looking back at the twins. "Uh, have you two eaten yet?"
Two heads shook, half-melted snow crystals flying from their manes.
"Alright, well, come on inside and Ah'll fix you some grub. Maybe we can figure out what kind've work you can do, and figure out who in town would be interested, later." I led them back to the house door and opened it for them.
"Thanks Applejack. You're the nicest pony we've met in this weird little town," Tacks grinned, slipping past me inside.
"Definitely. Real pretty too, aside from those funny white spots."
I pulled my hat down over my eyes, and followed them in. What had I just unleashed on the household?
Pinkie arrived with dinner moments later, and was surprised to find me cooking. That was nothing compared to her leap-in-the-air shock at the sight of two unfamiliar ponies sitting at the dinner table, chatting with a nonplussed-Mac.
"New ponies? And nopony told me?"
"Pinkie, meet Brass and Tacks. Tacks, Brass, this is Pinkie Pie."
"Yah kinda loud, lady," Brass mumbled, ears flattened to his head.
Tacks at least waved a hoof, but her ears mirrored her brothers'.
"I'm just excited! New friends! It's not every day I get to meet somepony new! Well, most days these days, since Ponyville's turned out to be such an exciting place, or frequently-damaged place, so it's either tourists or contractors or trauma surgeons or—"
I stepped up from behind and popped a stewed apple in Pinkie's mouth. "Taste this. More honey?"
She mulled the question and the morsel over for a few seconds. "No, more brown sugar, and three more cloves, but whole, don't grind those ones." She unloaded her saddlebags onto the table. "I didn't bring enough for five ponies, buuuuuut seeing as how you're new in town that qualifies as grounds for a party! And a party calls for cake, so," Pinkie whipped a three layer cake from nowhere. Literally, nowhere.
I was standing behind her, watching when she reached back to get it, and the cake simply, sneakily slipped into being.
"Emergency cake!"
"I'm a lil worried dis pink pony's gonna asplode," Brass muttered to Mac and Tacks.
Tacks gave her brother a shove. "Thanks for the welcome, Pinks. If we have our way, we hope to stay heah in town long-term."
Pinkie sat so swiftly, her chair spun around twice before coming to rest on two legs, backwards, against the table. Pinkie sprawled half-across the table towards Tacks, chin in her hooves, rapt. "Oh? Whatcha gonna do here?"
"Brass and I are cobblahs! We make fancy foot-wear for ponies, gryphons, pretty much anything what's got parts they walk on. We apprenticed in Manehattan, but our mastah brought his son into the business, so there wasn't a place fer us, in the end."
Brass mimed tossing something at the wall. "So we threw some dahts at a map to see where we'd go, and it was Ponyville!" He shrugged. "Well, actually dat scary forest next to it, but we figgered close enough."
Pinkie nodded about a dozen times, brow furrowed in thought. "We should introduce you to our friend Rarity. She makes fancy clothes, but I don't know if she's ever dabbled in cobblering. Hee, dabbled. Dabblers. Dabbling... Let's eat cake!"
By the time I finished cooking up enough food to supplement what Pinkie had brought, half the cake was gone, and streamers had appeared in the dining room. It was the closest thing to a party I'd been to since returning from the sea voyage, and it wasn't bringing back the best memories.
Apple Bloom slipped inside along with a gust of frigid air, and arrived in the dining room wide-eyed at all the noise. As soon as she saw Pinkie she relaxed. Finding Pinkie at the center of a disturbance was perfectly normal for our town.
"Oh, here's our little entrepreneur! I'd say she deserves an extra slice of cake tonight," I smiled, tugging her in close to deliver a hug and a noogie.
After Apple Bloom escaped my clutches, another round of introductions was made, party hats materialized and found their way onto heads, and dinner continued.
"If everyone's okay with their meals, Ah'm gonna slip on over to the hospital to see Granny. Ah missed seein' her yesterday," I said, shoving my chair back from the table. "Mac, would you settle our guests in the barn when they're ready to call it a night?"
"Eeyup," Mac nodded, leaning back to pick his teeth.
"Your gran's laid up? M'sorry to hear it. She gonna pull through?" Tacks asked, the concern on her face making up for the blunt question.
"The docs all think so, and she's been makin' good progress. Family's real important to us Apples though, so Ah'm gonna make sure Ah see her before she conks out for the night." I tipped my hat to the twins, then hurried to the door to get back into my winter gear.
Granny was asleep by the time I reached her room, the same one I had stayed in for a week after returning to Ponyville. I had never actually shared it with her because she ended up staying in the ICU so long.
I took her hoof in both of mine, balancing against the bed. "Sorry to wake ya, Granny. Didn't want to miss seein' you another day though."
She blinked awake, and gave me a big drowsy smile. "Applejaaaack. Good to see you, lil sugarbeet. How's life?" She gestured to the rather drab room. "Can't wait to get back to it m'self!"
I smiled, patting her hoof. "Life's good, Granny. Can't wait to get you home. Apple Bloom and Mac and Ah miss you bushels and bushels."
"How're them pies sellin'? You rememberin' to sugar the crusts up right?"
I rolled my eyes, but my smile didn't budge. "It's been years since that time Ah forgot."
She just eyed me until I groaned and nodded.
"Yes, Ah've been sugarin' the crusts 'til they sparkle."
"S'important this time of year. Makes 'em look like they're dusted in snow!"
"They haven't really needed much help in that lately," I groused, waving a hoof vaguely towards the window.
"Ohhh, come now Jackie, you used to love the snow! You'd make snowponies, and throw snowballs at Mac, and go sleddin' with your friends!"
"Snow's only fun for foals. When yer grown yer too busy workin' to have any fun with it."
"Well goodness gracious, I never expected to hear such sour words out of my sweet Applejack! You need to slack off now and then for some fun." Granny lifted my hoof and pressed it to her cheek. "Keep rope taut all day every day, rain and shine, and it's gonna snap."
I wanted to tell her I couldn't afford—we couldn't afford—me taking a single hour away from work for play, with ruin hanging over our heads, but I'd already forgotten one bit of wisdom from my elders. Maybe I shouldn't be so quick to say I knew what was best, even for myself. It wasn't as if I'd taken great care of myself lately.
"Alright, Granny. Ah'll take a little time off." I bent to kiss her on the forehead. "Can Ah getcha anything before Ah head home?"
"No dear, I'm fine. See you soon!"
I exchanged smiles with Nurse Redheart out in the hall, who slipped past me to tuck Granny in for the night after I left.
The hospital halls were never quite empty even late at night, of course. There was always a nurse or two, and a doctor drifting around on-call. Still, it was a lonely walk to the elevators and out through the lobby in the largely-quiet hospital, past normal visiting hours.
Outside the flurries had stopped, and the weather team had rolled back the clouds to reveal a gorgeous display of stars. I stood a long moment, the plumes of my breath torn away by the stiff breeze, to admire Luna's work. The stars were ice crystals, flashing in the moonlight as they sank into a pond so deep and black you'd never see the bottom.
I shivered, thinking back to our time under the sea. We came so close to doom in an abyss like that.
I saw a flash of movement against the stars, and squinted. A pegasus out for a late-night flight? It wasn't until enough moonlight fell on her that I realized it was Fluttershy, which struck me as very odd. It was hard to mistake her for anypony else though; her long mane and tail and butter-colored coat, nearly silver in the moon light, were distinctive.
I whistled between my teeth, and I saw her head move. She circled down in a lazy spiral, touching down in the snow with a delicate quartet of white puffs.
"Hi AJ. How are you doing?" she asked, eyes flicking over me.
I held back a smirk when I realized she was treating me like one of her animal patients, checking to see if I was gaining my weight back and all. "Improvin', sugarcube, thankee. What're you up to, out so late?"
She dug a hoof into the snow, lifted it and dug again, then lazily drew a stripe beneath the two holes to finish a smiley face. "I couldn't sleep. I kept...thinking."
"Yeah, thinking'll do that," I sighed, drawing a wobbly apple in a snowbank myself. "Anythin' specific?"
She was quiet such a long time I wondered if I was going to get anything out of her at all, but Fluttershy finally pushed the words out. "You. Sweet Apple Acres. Even Granny Smith being so sick. I...I guess I had gotten used to things being nice, after Twilight arrived and we all came together?"
I nodded. Fluttershy and Rarity had been friends before Twi's arrival, and Rainbow Dash and I had been at least friendly rivals when it came to local sports, and no one could really avoid being Pinkie's friend. It took Twilight as a catalyst to unite us, though.
"N-now, it feels like things are going to change. It scares me. I've been a lot happier since I've made more friends, even if it's meant a lot of scary things have happened." Fluttershy shuddered. "I started to feel like things were going to be better now, that the worst times were in the past. But with everything that's, um, happened to you—"
She stretched out a hoof towards me, and I was shocked at the power of the emotion in her eyes. There was sorrow there, and more than that, a need, but her jaw was set with frustration.
"There's no sure thing anywhere. And nothing lasts forever, good or bad. And I can't help you and it hurts AJ, I can't tell you how much." Fluttershy drew back her hoof and hugged herself, wings mantling as a fresh gust of wind rocked us both.
I raised a foreleg to her, and she came to me, stumbling once on cold-numbed hooves. We embraced, necks twining, and I spoke into the mass of her soft mane. "Y'can't fix my head or my heart like you can my scrapes and bruises, 'Shy, but you're still the Element of Kindness, and the gentlest pony, the gentlest friend I have. I know that if I reach the end of my rope, you'd be there to hold me, no questions asked, as long as I needed you to."
"As long as I remembered to put Angel outside first, of course," she whispered back, and we shared a sniffly little giggle. "I'm so sorry Applejack. You're the one with all these problems, and I'm crying on you."
"Not like we choose our moments of weakness, Fluttershy. We just gotta hope they don't coincide all that often, huh? Let's call it a night if ya don't mind though. It's a mite chilly out."
Fluttershy squeaked. "Right! So sorry, um, see you soon AJ!" She extended a wing, brushing it along my side, before jumping up into the air and slowly flapping her way home.
I stomped the snow hard a few times to get my blood pumping, then cantered back towards the farm, the winter wind at my tail.
The next morning at breakfast, Brass pushed again on the matter of the cart.
"For real, Applejack! Make the ponies come to ya."
"Ah'll give it some thought, Brass. We'd need some time to set that up though, and t'day Ah need to get out to market and—"
Mac cleared his throat, pushing his breakfast plate aside to physically interrupt the flow of conversation with a foreleg. "Mind if we swap t'day, actually, AJ? Ah'm a mite sore, and a day with just the cart'd be as good as a rest."
I winced, and nodded. "Of course, Mac."
Brass blinked, and twisted in his seat to face the big red stallion. "Hey Mac!"
Tacks giggled for some reason, but Brass ignored her and continued. "Would ya mind if I tagged along with ya to town? If I help ya out sellin' apples, maybe ya can introduce me to this 'Rarity' Pinkie mentioned last night."
Tacks turned to me. "D'you think I could help ya out today Applejack? Do this on a semi-reggalar basis 'til Brass and I get work an' our own pad?"
I rubbed my chin, mulling it over. We'd be losing some bits on food, but labor in return for room and board wasn't a bad deal. "Well, that's a generous offer Tacks, and Ah think we can try that out. D'you know much about critters? Or carpentry?"
I spent the rest of breakfast grilling Tacks on her repertoire of useful skills, and by the time the four of us left the house I had a plan of action in mind for the day. I led Tacks to a storage shed, and pointed out some sacks.
"Get yerself beneath a couple of those, and we'll go feed the animals. Then it's off into the orchard for pruning."
I loaded my own feed sacks up, then watched Tacks try to imitate the leisurely kicks I'd used to land the heavy bags atop myself. She managed to kick them across the floor of the shed instead.
"Here," I said, crossing to the bags and giving them a light buck, sending them in an arc onto her back. She winced and splayed her legs beneath the weight, but I was confident she could take it. She was another earth pony after all!
We made it to the animal pens without a problem, and while I began emptying the feed sacks into various troughs, Tacks bent my ear.
"So, I'm kinda getting the impression things ain't the best around here, are they?"
I cocked a brow, flinging an empty sack up onto my back with my teeth. "What gives you that impression?"
Tacks nodded at the barn. "Well, I could blow a bunch of hot air your way and act like some smaht detective, or I could just admit we saw the for-sale sign stored in the bahn, last night. When we asked Mac about it, he clammed up good, so it's not old hat that don't mean nothin' no more."
I finished dumping a second sack, grain hissing into the metal trough, and sighed, the two sounds blending. "No, you're right. The farm is in real trouble. Ah'm not a good businessmare, and we may end up having to sell Sweet Apple Acres in the near future."
Tacks spilled her own sacks onto the frozen earth. "What's yer biggest problem?" She planted a hoof on one sack to brace it before trying to tear it open with her teeth.
"Rising overhead, low profits. Aging equipment and structures." I explained about our two most profitable products and the problems that came with relying on them.
Tacks listened while she did her share of the feeding, then tossed her empty sacks across her own back. "Well, I can think of one thing that'd help. A new market for that zappity-apple stuff. I've never heard of it, so it must be rare, and if it's rare, then rich ponies will want it."
She nudged me and grinned. "Y'know what else 'rare' gets you? 'Expensive.' They'll pay through the nose to get it." Tacks tapped the side of her head with one hoof. "Where're all the richest ponies?"
"Canterlot. I dunno, Tacks. I've tried goin' up there and sellin' before, and no one would even look at me, much less buy somethin' from me."
"Dat's because of yer image, AJ. Yer just a bumpkin to them, and nothin' a bumpkin sells could possibly be worth much. How d'you package this jam a'yours?"
"In glass jars."
Tacks waited, and I could see her stumble mentally. "...That's it? Y'don't label it or nuffin'? No wax seal? No little hankie with apples printed on it wrapped around the lid, even?"
"Uh, no? That'd just drive up overhead, and it wouldn't make ponies here any more likely to buy it. They already know it's good." I frowned. "But the Canterlot ponies have no idea what it even is. And they're used to everything bein' all fancy-like."
"Not just fancy, but small. You could sell 'em smallah portions of the stuff for five, ten times the price if it looks good to 'em, and they'll scramble ovah each other to pay it!" Tacks pretended to be a crazed shopper grabbing at jars, whipping her head around, eyes narrowed and teeth bared.
I started to grin, but faltered. "Well, we already pledge quite a bit of our jam to Filthy Rich, who runs a chain of stores."
"Does he got any presence in Canterlot?"
"Uh, not that Ah know of—"
"Then there's no problem!"
"No, there is, because we'd want at least part of his usual share for this, uh, project. He won't be happy we're breakin' our usual agreement." I winced. Making the richest pony in Ponyville unhappy wouldn't have any pleasant consequences, I could be sure of that.
"Isn't it all in how ya present it? Say, 'Filthy, if I don't change the terms of our deal, Sweet Apple Acres goes under and you can kiss your jam goodbye.'"
We dumped our empty sacks in a barrel by the fence, and I led us back to the shed to fetch some tools. Tacks was making a surprising amount of sense.
While we made a beeline for the orchard I knew Mac had been working in, Tacks pressed me again. "What's another big problem you run into every year?"
I had to think about it, and finally grimaced. "The farm is, though it stings mah pride to say it, too big for just Mac and me to work, and we still need to expand it to increase profits. Apple Bloom is years away from bein' able to buck trees, still."
"Okay, so, labah. Ya need willin' hooves and ya need 'em fer free, or as good as." Tacks pondered that while I stepped her through the basics of pruning back the trees. It was far easier to do this work when the trees had lost all their leaves.
"Ah dunno. Where do ya get a bunch of free laborers ya really only just have to feed and maybe house, and not hafta worry about 'em robbin' ya? Aside from—"
We locked eyes. "Family."
"Ya got a big one, Applejack?"
"Boy howdy, do we! They live all over, though. But there's sure to be a cousin or nephew or somepony whose parents want 'em out of the house for a spell, and how's this for a change of scenery?" I gestured to the orchard, my brain starting to spin up, spitting out names. I'd need to write some letters when I got back to the house.
Tacks and I bounced more ideas off one another as the morning unfurled, and we worked our way through the orchard. By the time we stopped for lunch, I was...not excited quite, I'd been slapped down too many times lately for that, but cautiously optimistic. Back inside the farmhouse I scribbled down the things we'd discussed, before Pinkie arrived with our lunches.
"I dropped Mac's off with him at the cart. He looked pretty happy for a stallion knee-deep in snow!" Pinkie giggled, unwrapping the parcels she'd placed on the dining room table.
"With how hard Mac's been workin' lately, even if it was up to his belly it would be a vacation just standin' there and selling." I offered Pinkie an apple, then turned back to my cooking, rustling up a little something to fill in for Tacks' presence.
"You seem a little perkier today, AJ. I don't suppooooose you'd let me...?" Pinkie made some convoluted gestures for half a minute. I recognized only one of them, maybe, as being her firing her party cannon.
"Y'want to throw a party in honor of me cheerin' up some? Nah, let's not start pattin' ourselves on the back quite yet."
Pinkie's face fell, her ears wilting atop her head.
I tried to inject some optimism into my tone. "Tacks had some great ideas—"
"We both did. We were brainstorming out in the orchard while we worked. Applejack's a smart cookie when she isn't mopin' around." Tacks saluted me with half a daisy sandwich.
Pinkie's disappointment vanished, but it wasn't the instant, manic transition I was used to seeing from her. "Less mope and more hope is what I've been hoping to see!" Pinkie squealed, bouncing around the dining room. "When do we get to start helping with these new ideas?"
"Uh, well, not all of it can be done right away. Ah might actually have to take out a loan to tide us over until we can get a zap apple harvest in. I didn't want to go into debt, but with the promise of serious profits this time around and bein' able to keep the farm? I'd say it's a risk worth takin'." I tapped a hoof against my chin. "Gonna have to get with Rarity again, and design some packaging for the jam. She would know what those Canterlot ponies would want, if anypony here in town would."
"What about Twilight, though? She lived in Canterlot most of her life!"
I smirked, and shook my head. "Ah'm bettin' nine out the ten shops she visited were bookstores, in her time there. Plus her, uh, fashion sense is a little wantin' and that's comin' from me mind you."
Pinkie wrapped me up in a squeeze. "Well, as soon as there is something we can help you with, let us all know. And look, you made a new friend along the way!" She crossed the room at the speed of pink to nose Tacks' cheek. "You two have fun, and I'll see you later!"
The pink blur vanished, the door slammed, and Tacks let out a sigh. "She's exhaustin'. What're her real pahties like?"
"Oh, there's dancing, games, punch, music, alligators..." I waved a hoof. "The usual."
"Uh...huh. Ponyville ain't exactly the quiet lil village it looks like it oughta be, is it?"
I cleared my throat. "Ahem. Well, Ah'll put it this way. When you and your brother start making these fancy shoes for ponies? Make sure they can still flee in terror in 'em, 'cuz they tend to do a lot of that around here."
Tacks took a bite out of her sandwich and chewed awhile, seeming to think things over. I put an apple crumble in the oven to bake and joined her, scooping up a daisy sandwich for myself.
"So, what can we do in the short term to turn things around for ya?" Tacks gestured around with her sandwich-half.
"Well, maybe Brass was right and we ought to be selling out of the farm and not in the market, this time of year. We could certainly sell more pies, and they'd be fresher too."
"Good, good, that's a staht. What else? Any other big drains on the finances we can try to stoppah up?"
I thought about it, then remembered the tax, the memory bringing a wave of nausea with it. I glared at my sandwich, and took another bite anyways. I wasn't about to let my stomach rule my life.
"Oh. A new tax goes into effect next year that's really going to sock it to us."
Tacks rolled her eyes. "Royalty and its train of bureaucrats, hard at work. So what can we do about dat?"
"Well, some of the other produce vendors had mentioned holdin' a protest, but Ah never heard anythin' more about that."
"Enh, protestin' heah at the local level's not gonna getcha anywhere. Protestin' in Canterlot with fewah than a hundred ponies' gonna make ya look silly." Tacks stroked her chin.
I blinked, and considered. "Ah was gonna dismiss that out of hoof, but really, this is the slow season for us farmers. Ah mean, there's always work to do, and some like me are still sellin' stock that keeps after bein' harvested, but the tax will hurt all of us who make a living off the land."
Tacks knocked her hooves together, dropping her sandwich. "I think we'd bettah pay a visit to the Ponyville post office! We'ah gonna need a lotta stamps."