//------------------------------// // Chapter 1: Sweat and Feathers // Story: By Any Other Name // by Cola_Bubble_Gum //------------------------------// The morning had been taut like a guitar string. After Applejack worked herself to exhaustion, she flopped herself into bed and stared at the ceiling and forced her breathing to slow down. With the family gone, she had none of the usual distractions to help shut out the nagging thoughts. Apple Bloom was off with her class on for a weekend camping trip, and although Applejack had agreed to be a chaperone, she ended up not being able to go. A late order had come in for Galas, and the easternmost Gala orchard still needed to be harvested to fill it. Then, more bad news: Winona needed more help. She had come down with something bad a few days ago, and they’d taken her to Fluttershy. The mare had informed them after a day of treatment that it was more serious and needed antibiotics, and possibly magical treatments as well. Granny knew AJ and Mac needed to work, so she’d taken the late train to Canterlot after dinner, and likely wouldn’t be back for at least another day after that. Then Mac found out the Spartan Stallion Competition in Appleloosa was happening a week earlier than planned (or rather, he he had misread the schedule and would have missed it completely if he hadn’t noticed Bulk Biceps on the way to the train.) Mac had done half of the orchard -- his share of the work -- late last night and took the first train to Appleloosa in the morning. AB wasn’t going to be home for another day. Granny Smith was staying in Canterlot until Winona was cured or she got bad news. Mac was gone for at least three days. The house was silent, and AJ hadn’t woken up to a completely empty house . . . well, she couldn’t remember how long. The eerie homesick-while-home-ness had set in at the breakfast table. Her cereal was practically a thunderstorm in her mouth, because it was the only sound she could hear. Everything, somehow, was still. That was okay, because she had work to do. She barely finished her cereal before getting out the door and throwing herself into clearing the orchard. She figured it would take all day, and then she could sleep easy and her family would be back tomorrow morning. It had taken only a few hours. Now, laying on her bed, muscles sore, heart still beating fast, breath finally relaxing, her eyes drew to the window and the noonday sun shining through it. She saw a rainbow painted in the upper corner of the sky, and she tilted her head to get a better look. There wasn’t any rain scheduled today . . . No -- not a rainbow. It faded, from one end to the other, gone. Dash. AJ chewed on the inside of her cheek. There was paperwork to do, surely. She’d just head downstairs, check in the little office in the back, and surely there’d be receipts to put inside ledgers. There weren’t. Granny wasn’t always on top of the books, but she’d had a very good week as far as her faculties were concerned, it seems. All the sales ledgers were stacked in the shelves, and the inbox for pouches of receipts was empty. The window in the office was like a picture. A perfect, sunny day was outside, but in here she couldn’t hear any insects likely in the grass or trees. She sleeps in the trees. “Dammit.” The day was only half over -- what now? What could she possibly do to distract herself from thoughts of Dash for half a day? Applejack was on the road into Ponyville proper before she realized it. Shopping, sure: You could never have enough food on the farm. She could get some cabbage for sauerkraut and cucumbers to pickle, that would take at least half a day’s worth of work. Maybe more. The produce market was shut. Of course it’s shut. AJ groaned to herself. It’s shut every damn Friday. She rolled her eyes at herself, and caught sight of another rainbow trail above. She grit her teeth. Something. I’ve got plenty of bits. I can spring for something, I’m sure. The shops were open, generally, but nothing caught Applejack’s eye. She didn’t need new clothes -- her work clothes for the messiest farm activities were still in good condition, and fancier stuff was basically handled by the handful of dresses Rarity had made for her at one time or another. Antiques were a waste of money -- she had plenty of old stuff at home. She didn’t need any musical instruments, and didn’t want any more candy in the house (Apple Bloom was eating too much of the stuff, anyway.) She came to the second largest bakery in Ponyville: Muffins Galore. Her mouth watered. Muffins ain’t candy. Maybe I can spoil myself a little, I did work for it. . . besides, it’ll be a nice treat for everypony when they get home. She turned her head to walk into the shop, and in turning her eye caught the flower shop across the street from the bakery. Roseluck’s. Applejack stopped. She tilted her head, looking between the two. Flowers?  From Roseluck? That’s just an extravagance. Stick with the muffins. Her eyes slid back over to the flower shop. Roseluck’s had expanded from a stand in the market, so now it was open during a greater range of hours than most of the other shops in town. Roseluck’s business had flourished, even though a large part of her inventory was too expensive to get for food. And, of course, there were the rumors of the Starlight Rose. Applejack, you know better’n that. Rumors are for fillies and foals, don’t take any notice of that stuff. She knew what she was going to do. One option was practical, level headed, and inexpensive. The other was silly, frivolous, and pointless -- even if the rumors were true. A holler above Applejack got her attention, Dash howling out as she made another long rainbow trail across the sky. That pegasus can paint colors in the air, Applejack mused, feeling a smile try to develop on her face. She looked again between Muffins Galore and Roseluck’s. Her mind was relentless: AJ, this isn’t hard. Flowers don’t last, they don’t fill you up, and you can’t freeze’em like muffins. A few dozen muffins will settle breakfast for most of next week! Twenty minutes to get home, ten minutes to pack some of the muffins in the freezer, two minutes to eat the muffin she bought for herself and then -- the entire evening, alone with her cravings. Go get the muffins and go home. She nodded. The answer was obvious. The door to Roseluck’s shut behind her and a bell jingled. “Oh! Hi, Applejack.” Roseluck’s head came up over the counter, and then she stood properly. “Welcome to Roseluck’s. What can I help you with?” “I, uh . . . “ Her mouth jammed. C’mon, Applejack. You walked in here under your own power, and not telling the truth is just a lie in disguise. Go on.  “I’m . . . look’n for flowers,” she finished. It sounded weak to even her, but it was true. The smile on Roseluck’s face didn’t even falter. “My pleasure! Did you want some daisies and baby’s breath again? I have some really nice dandelions, too. Very fresh, they just came in today.” Applejack considered her options. Well, it’s not like I couldn’t have a big salad tonight for dinner, right? She took a deep breath. “I’d like a dozen daisies, two dozen dandelions, some baby’s breath, a couple of violets but only if they’re fresh.“ She hesitated. “And the Starlight Rose, if ya’ll still have one today?” Roseluck was writing the order down, and when that last part came out, she blinked a few times, then tilted her head a little. “Did you say the Starlight Rose?” Applejack swallowed and nodded. “I did.” Roseluck’s brow furrowed for a moment, but then she nodded. “I can fill all of that, today. The violets are fresh, I wouldn’t sell them if they weren’t. And, as it happens, I have a Starlight Rose.” Now it was Applejack’s turn to blink. The rumors of the Starlight Rose said that Roseluck only ever had one in stock on any given day, and it was nearly evening. How could it not have been sold already? The last thing Applejack had expected was to be able to get the thing. Now it was a real possibility, and that was terrifying. “They, ah . . . well, I know how much the daisies and dandelions are, and I can guess the violets, but how much is the Rose? I’ve heard about them plenty, but no pony ever seems know what the price is.” Roseluck’s smile became wider but faltered slightly. “They’re free to the first customer who asks.” Applejack tilted her head. That’s a lie. Why is she lying about that? She frowned. “You’re . . . not makin’ a joke at my expense, are you?” Roseluck hesitated, then shook her head. “No, this rose is no charge.” That, somehow, was the truth. Applejack cleared her throat and bit her lip. “I’m . . . sorry, I just assumed they’d be pretty expensive, since they’re apparently so pretty and all.” This thing with Dash was scrambling her eggs, and now she was getting false positives on lies. Roseluck shrugged. “It’s okay.” She smiled and leaned down again, looking at the lower racks of flower buckets. She brought up wax paper wrapped packages, one marked ‘daisy’, two marked ‘dandelion’, a smaller package marked ‘baby’s breath’ and two whole violets. “Do you want these two cut?” “Whole is fine. And, the, uh . . .” “Oh yes. One moment.” There were a few moments while she rummaged down behind the counter. “This must be your lucky day. It seems like some days all ponies come in for is the Truest Desire. Let’s see . . . here!” She brought it up. Applejack had never seen the flower before, but she had to agree the nickname fit. The rose was a blue so deep it was nearly jet black, but all over the petals there was a shimmer, most of it white but little flashes of color here and there in the light. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, blinking. She’d never bought a flower that looked nearly so pretty, and wasn’t sure she’d ever seen a flower that seemed to twinkle as if it were the night sky in petals of a rose. Roseluck nodded. “It really is, but they’re so rare.” The florist hesitated a moment, letting Applejack get a better look. “Wait. I asked for a Starlight Rose, but you called it a ‘Truest Desire’?” “Yes. The species is actually named ‘Truest Desire’, by a horticulturist who claimed they were as rare as true love.” Roseluck giggled and shook her head. “A hopeless romantic, apparently. He found a single one on the edge of the Everfree, but couldn’t confirm the species because the one he found was lost before it was catalogued. It was decades before anybody confirmed their existence, so they were thought to be extinct, or mythical.” Roseluck paused and shook her head. “Sorry, I get carried away sometimes.” “Well, I can’t claim I really understand some of the nuance, but I think I get the broad strokes.” Applejack shrugged. “Flowers ain’t my bailiwick, but it sure is beautiful.” Roseluck smiled, then laid the rose in a large paper sheaf, and then put a single daisy in the sheaf around it. “There. One ‘Truest Desire’, colloquially known as the Starlight Rose, free of charge. I even added a snack in case you get peckish on the way home, so you don’t have to open up the bulk stuff on the way.” She packed all the bundles into a larger bundle. Applejack hesitated. This was the real moment. The rumors were clear. When you first pick up the rose, think of who you want to visit your bed the most, for whatever reason, and they would be in your dreams. Some said it was that evening, some said it was days or weeks later, but all of them confirmed you had to be sleeping alone. She took a long, deep breath, then reached out. She scooped up the bundle and stuck it in her saddlebags, then started to reach for the rose. “So I heard Mac left this morning for the Spartan Competition?” Roseluck asked, Applejack froze mid-reach. It unnerved her, but she nodded. “Yeah, he had the date wrong. Poor guy.” Applejack produced a nervy little chuckle, one that couldn’t possibly come off as completely genuine. “How’d you know?” Roseluck gave a shrug. “A friend said that he was at the train station this morning. Will the three of you have a girls’ night, perhaps?” The questions were getting stranger. She shook her head. “No, it . . . Granny’s taking Winona to a vet, and AB’s on a camping trip.” Applejack shrugged. “I’m doing okay, though. Everything’s fine, sure is.” She stared down at the rose. “Just gonna . . . relax, for a while, I guess.” “Uh huh.” Roseluck’s smile flexed and shifted, amusement creeping into it for a moment, but the florist was polite enough to let the lie slide. “Well, I . . . I guess I should get the rose and be going,” Applejack pushed out. Her throat was dry, and she swore her hoof was shaking a little by this point. She reached out and let her mind wander to the rainbow trails in the sky, to the smell of sweat and feathers, to the goofy confident grin on that damned mare’s face, to thoughts of running her own hoof through Dash’s mane. No -- not that, not first. Something else. Applejack knew that Dash was as rough and tumble as she was, but it didn’t matter. She wanted to put that rose in her hair and get a wide, happy smile, or even a content glow from her cheeks. Applejack wanted Dash, and while she knew the best way to keep a secret was to keep it off her mind, indulging in it for a few moments was delicious and strange. Unreserved, impractical, ticklish and warm. She curled her arm around the little pseudo-bouquet. She let herself think about a rainbow mane spread out on her pillow, a warm blue pegasus in her bed with a cocky grin that glistened, the feeling of snuggling, warm and spent and blissful -- “Are you okay?” “Oh!” Applejack opened her eyes. Roseluck giggled. “You seemed a little distracted.” “Uh, yeah, I -- I was. I should get going.” She held up the bouquet for a moment. “Got the flower.” She grabbed the other packages. “Flowers. Right. So, um, thank you.” “Applejack, wait!” She froze again. The jig was up. Surely, she had let something slip. “The Desire is free, but . . . the rest of the flowers aren’t.” Applejack felt hot embarrassment creep up her neck and cheeks. She turned to the florist and counted out the bits she owed without another word. Roseluck thanked her with a smile and she nodded, turning to leave. “Oh, and Applejack?” Applejack’s breath caught again. What now? She turned back. Roseluck smiled. “Sweet dreams.” Applejack nodded and fled before she could embarrass herself further. The lone daisy was gone by the time she got home to that utterly silent house, a casualty of a forgotten lunch. The violets and daisies were put in the fridge. Putting the flower into its own vase took up all of five minutes, and most of that was finding the vase and running some water in it. Dash is different than you. True. Dash was Dash, and Applejack was Applejack. The pegasus was an able competitor, perfectly willing to rise to a challenge, and a hard worker, despite being a four-legged, hyper-enthusiastic, nap-taking machine. But Dash was destined for greatness, and Applejack was destined for the farm. It’d been a long, long time since the house seemed large and the farm seemed small. Her parents had passed away, and she was just a filly. She’d headed into Manehattan, and found she didn’t fit there. Then she came home and found herself welcomed with opened hooves, and she smiled and looked at her home and . . . It’d been that long. Applejack took a deep breath. Her parents had been so happy. By Celestia, they’d been happy. Of course, they’d had fights now and then, heated discussions that boiled over, but those events were followed by making up and family dinners and love, absolute and unmistakable. Applejack would have known if one of them was lying about it to the other. She rubbed at her mane with a hoof, and trotted to the window. “Guess eventually it’ll be me and the farm, and . . . that’ll have to be good enough,” she murmured. A dinner for one, flavored with fresh violets, came and went. The sky became dark, stars glowing in the night sky; the moon came up, and Applejack was suddenly aware of how much energy she’d spent fleeing the pegasus who never even gave her a second glance. Well, not in that way. She sighed and shook her head, letting her eyes stray to the rose in the vase for a moment. No flower could match the night sky, but the rose seemed to have its own austere, strange type of beauty all its own. It’s not the night sky, but if you could have a drop of night as a flower, thats what it would look like. Applejack leaned in to sniff, and the scent tickled her nose more than it poked at her stomach, somehow. She tilted her head, gave the rose a wary look, and then shook her head. It was a pretty flower, but no more. “Ponies tell the strangest rumors,” she muttered. Perhaps an early bedtime wouldn’t be so bad after all -- and of course, it would make tomorrow come sooner, along with the chance that Granny would be home with Winona. Applejack went up to her bedroom, noting a fly on the wall which would no doubt be gone tomorrow. She tucked herself into bed, wrapped her legs around her pillow tight, and tried not to think about the scent of sweat and feathers. “Applejack.” A voice, in a lonely house and a particularly lonely bedroom. “Hey, AJ.” Applejack opened her eyes. Dash tilted her head. “C’mon, sleepyhead. Move over. I can’t get in if you’re hogging the middle.” Applejack felt air in her mouth, on her tongue, but no words came out. Her brain grappled with a completely impossible thing happening. Dash’s forehead furrowed. “Applejack, you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” “What are you doin’ here, Dash? I -- “ Applejack cut off as a hoof covered her mouth. “Did you have that dream again, where you were all lonely and nobody else was home?” That didn’t sound right. “That . . . that wasn’t a dream.” Dash’s mouth tightened a little, and she shook her head. “AJ, you work too hard. You always get bad dreams when you do that.” Her brow furrowed and her smile spread out again. “You’re not alone now, are you?” “I’m not?” It sounded good. It sounded too good, actually. “Well, are you sleeping right now?” Dash chuckled. “If you want, I’ll pinch you.” “I -- that -- “ AJ struggled for words. “Even in the dark, it’s so cute when you blush. Move over, c’mon. I’m cold.” Dash nudged at AJ’s side. Applejack didn’t feel like she was sleeping. Was she sleeping earlier? She could check. If she was sleeping earlier, she wouldn’t have the rose downstairs, would she? She shifted over with the nudging, her thoughts trying to focus through the gauze of sleep. There was a warm, soft, scent-of-sweat-and-feathers Rainbow Dash next to her a moment later, and a moment after that there were lips on hers, and a moment after that she couldn’t imagine anything realer than that feeling right there, the touch of the mare she’d tried to hard to deny for so very long. A hoof slipped around her neck, the other one moving down to her rear haunches, rubbing along near her cutie mark. Dash broke the kiss. “If you really want to prove it’s not a dream, I can make it a really good night for you.” The words came out in a whisper, soft and breathy, with a little squeak in the middle of ‘really’. That’s Dash. “I love you, Rainbow.” Applejack didn’t dare take her eyes away from Dash’s, lest somehow it break whatever this was, dream or reality. Dash’s eyes shined for half a moment in the dark. “I love you too, AJ.” Applejack let go of the dream that had apparently been the loneliest day of her life and took hold of the mare of her dreams. Sunlight was warm on her face. Applejack opened her eyes, yawning. She felt exhausted, but considering what she had been doing instead of sleep, she was fine with that. “Mornin’, Dash.” She pawed with her hoof to find the pegasus. “Dash?” No pegasus. Applejack was alone in the bed. “Dash?” No answer. Doubt crept into her mind, dreadful like rot, and then the pieces fell into place. No feathers in the bed, no scent of Dash on the sheets, no warm pegasus yelling back to her. Last night had been the dream, not the lonely day. Wet warmth on her cheek told her she was crying, and there was really only one other thing to confirm. She came down the stairs, careful with bleary wet eyes and a lump in her throat, and there on the table was the Starlight Rose, still in the vase. Of course it was a dream. She whimpered and shook her head, sitting for a few moments on the stairs, trying to make the tears stop. It was a dream because it couldn’t ever be real. Applejack couldn’t make a move on Dash. What would happen to their friendships? Was it worth it to risk breaking the six of them up? There was no guarantee that Dash even felt that way about mares. And certainly no guarantee that even if she did fancy mares, that she’d be the mare to win her heart . . . Dash would’ve made a move by now, if it was ever gonna happen. And she hasn’t. Which means it ain’t. “Except in dreams.” She hated that she’d even said the words, but they felt true, and she hated that more. The crying stopped, and she sighed, rubbing her face somewhat dry. Applejack knew she’d made a mistake. She couldn’t go back now, not to what she’d been doing. She wanted Dash, she knew that before -- but she wanted to be with Dash, and that was impossible. She took the next few stairs down to stand in front of the Starlight Rose, half wanting to eat it, half wanting to tear it up and throw it away. She raised her hoof to do one or the other. I love you too, AJ. The words stuck in her mind, and she froze. That’s what she’d wanted, right? To know what it would be like. To have a night of a life with Dash, even if it was a dream, even if it couldn’t ever be real. What a dream it had been. Applejack, after a long few minutes of staring at the rose, turned around and went back to her room. On the bookshelf she found the thick tome of Green’s Fairy Tales. It was the first book she could remember being read from, and the easiest way for her to remember her parents -- Daddy Cortland cuddling her, Mama Winesap reading from the book. Applejack flipped to the story in the middle, her favorite -- “The Happy Prince” -- and read first passage. The Prince cried, ““If this is real, don’t let me sleep! If this is a dream, don’t wake me!” A few moments later she took the rose out of its vase, set the rose on the page, then closed the book on it. She wished she hadn’t bought it, but she could not help treasuring it. Morning light came in through the greenhouse windows, transforming the natural warmth into humid air. Which was the purpose of the thing, as all green things need moisture to grow. There were potted plants, ferns, water lilies and hanging vines, all of whom silently feasted on the sunlight and water. There were lots and lots of flowers. Roseluck walked through the small jungle wearing a robe and a glazed smile, holding a small, open cardboard box filled with a dozen white roses. “How are my lovelies today?” She nuzzled an orchid that had just blossomed before setting down her box on one of her counters. She looked around her workshop approvingly: Fridge, sink, work tables. Glue. Blue paint. Glitter. Brushes. Scissors. And, of course, her flowers. She smiled, gazing at the white roses. “When I’m done with you all . . . you will shine like Luna’s sky.”                  The clock chimed eight, and she sighed. “Later, when there’s time.” She quickly turned on the faucet, half filled the sink with water and gently dropped the roses in. “Drink up, darlings.” She opened the fridge, rubbing her eyes. Every shelf had vases. Every vase had a rose. Every rose was dark blue, nearly jet black, with shimmering petals and flecks of white. She selected a rose and closed the door. Walking into the front of her store, she placed the rose underneath her sales counter and trotted to the front door. Taking a moment to look around, she smiled and breathed in the menagerie. The combined scent of all the flowers mingled with the happinesses of the ponies who’d bought flower after flower, for their beloved ones. She flipped the sign on the front door to show the ‘open’ side, and waited for her clients.