//------------------------------// // Chapter Eight - Epilouge // Story: A Dash of... // by Mr Merritt //------------------------------// Applejack opened her eyes, blearily looking at the growing sunrise out her bedroom window. With a sigh she got out of her bed and stretched the kinks out of her back, mentally readying herself for another day of work. As she crept out the door of her room, the scent of cooking food met her in the upstairs hallway. A powerful sense of déjà vu came over the Element of Honesty. It had been three days since the events between Peppermill and Saltpeter happened in downtown Ponyville. It took a bit off effort, but Saltpeter had finally been caught. He had suffered serious burns to his head and back from the magical flames. But what appeared far worse was the affects to his mental state. He had flew into a rage while at the local hospital, injuring some ponies. It got so bad that some professionals from Canterlot were called in to officially declare him mentally dysfunctional. It was strongly believed that he would be spending the rest of his life in an institution, forever screaming about fire, crazy ponies and “that turncoat of a brother’. For those same three days Peppermill had locked himself in the guest room at Sweet Apple Acres, refusing to come out. But today the unmistakable aroma coming from the farmhouse kitchen revealed the colt’s location. Applejack crept to the doorway of the kitchen, and found the grey colt busy manipulating pots and pans on the stove. There was, in Applejack’s mind, a difference this time. There was something about his stance, the way he held himself. This was not the same Peppermill had that first stumbled into the lives of the Apple family. This one was no longer haunted by the shadow of his jealous brother, nor the guilt of being responsible for his life being turned upside-down. But Applejack would be darned if he still wasn’t still an incredible cook. “Go ahead…and find…a seat.” said Peppermill over his shoulder to the mare. Applejack, surprised that he knew she was there this time around, obeyed. As she sat at the table and Peppermill continued to fuss over the food, the colt spoke. “I was…counting on you…on being…the first one awake. I…wanted…to talk to you.” “Ahm all ears sugarcube…” “I…wanted to…officially thank you…and your family…for everything…you have done for me.” “Well, yer welcome. But we would of helped you no matter what the situation might have been.” “Yes, I…know that now.” The colt gave a sigh. “Now…that I’ve had…time to think…I realize…my brother had…already started…to be a bad influence…on me.” Applejack gave a start, but Peppermill turned and gave her a pointed look that riveted the mare to her chair. “He…would tell me…that the only…reason anypony…liked me was…because I could cook…or that I was…cute…well, that’s…what all the mares…he would bring home…would say…when they met me.” “Sugarcube, yer brother was jealous and nothin’ more. He thought he wasn’t getting what was rightfully his, when he should of realized he had it the whole time.” The grey colt gave a non-committal shrug, and Applejack fell silent. “My point…is that I believed him. I…loved my brother…no matter how…angry he seemed…to be with me. But what…he did…is unforgivable. I just…hope…he gets some…help now. Speaking…of help…how is…Miss Pinkie? Is…she still bothering…Miss Rarity…about…edible headwear?” “How did you know about that? You were in yer room when Rarity came wailin’ at mah door lookin’ fer a break from that.” This won the orange mare a small smile (really, just a brief lifting of the corners of his mouth, but Applejack still was pleased to see it). “I…figured out…which floorboard…doesn’t squeak in…the upstairs hallway. Besides…a grey coat…and black mane….make it easy…to hide…at the top of the stairs.” “Well,” laughed Applejack, “Pinkie Pah is still the same as always. I can’t believe that fire actually baked that batter right to her head like that. She’s been begging Twi for some of that fancy fire, goin’ on about ‘instant bake cakes’ and such…” Peppermill nodded his approval as he began to plate up food from the stove. Applejack immediately noticed that he was only serving two plates, and she gave him a questioning look as he slipped a plate piled high with food to her. “I…wanted just…you and me…to enjoy…a meal. Besides…I have…a important…question to ask you.” Sure enough, he set the second plate down beside the mare and pulled up a chair. He had just about bowed his head down to start eating when he glanced up. The intent gaze levelled on him by the mare made him realize he should of mentioned his intent after the meal. With a sigh, he straightened up and looked Applejack square into her green eyes. “I…hate to…impose…on you…and your family…any more…than I have…” he began, but he found himself cut off by Applejack’s firm voice. “First off you ain’t imposing. And second, yer welcome to stay here with us for as long as you need.” “That…might be a long, long time Applejack. The…sad truth…is that…well, I…have no one.” This statement made the mare blink, and the colt could clearly see her chewing her bottom lip anxiously. “Both…my parents…were only foals. And I have…no grandparents. I…have nopony…other than you…and Big Mac…and Applebloom…and Mrs. Smith.” “Granny Smith…” corrected Applejack firmly. “Mrs. Smith…” insisted the colt, just as firm. Silence reigned in the kitchen for a few moments until Applejack actually backed down. “Fine, but there is sucha thing as too polite.” “Not…in the…restaurant…business.” “Listen sugarcube. First off you have a lot more than just me and mah kin watching over you. We’ve had all sorts of ponies coming to the farm askin’ about you. There are some who have even offered to take you in as their own. And, ah know they are all good ponies…and I know you’d be happy with them…” Applejack’s voice began to grow tight. As much as she knew the other ponies were sincere, she was far too attached and far too invested in the colt to willingly let go. “You’d really…just take…a stranger…into your home…and treat them…like family? Just…like that?” Peppermill’s words hit like arrows to the mare’s heart. But to her genuine surprise she had an answer for him. “Yes. Yes we would. And Celestia help me ifin’ that is not the honest truth.” The colt was silent as he digested these words. “I…am a city colt. I…know that…I’m not…built for…farm work. Heck…Applebloom…could probably…out-muscle me. And…being chief cook…and bottle-washer…wouldn’t cut it. I’d feel…like I was…a burden…” Peppermill’s lament was abruptly shut down by Applejack flying out of her chair, and placing a fore hoof on either side of his face. “Don’t you ever think that way! You have never been a burden and you never will. You have a talent that most ponies would give up their cutie-marks for. You are smart, yer kind, Rarity’s always going on about how charmin’ you are…” “I sound…like somepony…scraped my throat…with a spoon…” This simple comment, spoken with such a dead-pan expression, broken whatever resistance the mare had. The next thing the colt knew, he was being crushed in a tight hug. He could feel her body shaking, but realized from the muffled chuckled she buried into his mane that she was anything but sad. “Ok…maybe…I have…a…dry humor…to go along…with my dry voice…” he admitted. This only set the mare to more laughter, and Peppermill found himself feeling a slight blush creeping along his face. Finally, Applejack released the colt from the embrace wiping the tears from her eyes. “The point, “ she managed after catching her breath, “is you are not alone. If it means you might as well become a member of the Apple clan, then so be it. Do you understand?” “…” “…” “…well?” “…our food…is getting cold.” Applejack’s green eyes blinked. Peppermill’s dark ones blinked as well. “Are you gong to be crackin’ jokes like this from now on?” “Maybe…” “…fair enough. Now sit.” Peppermill obeyed as Applejack cleared the table of the now cold food. “Ahm going to show you how we Apples make a breakfast.” With twinkling eyes she began to work at the stove, leaving the little cook to sit and ponder his future. … … … The future looked good…smelled pretty good too… FIN Mr. Merritt Sez: I admit to being overwhelmed by the positive response to this story. It has been something I wanted to write for a long time. I find myself liking my OC Peppermill, and I think I will continue to use him. Thank you all for your kind words, and keep watching for a new story soon!