//------------------------------// // Horse // Story: Horseshoes // by Peter Yellowhammer //------------------------------// Celestia's sun slowly rose behind the valley walls, coating the sky in a gentle rose palette. Rousing groggily from their sleepy haze, all the creatures big and small ventured into the fray to push themselves into the timeless momentum each day demanded. A few apple trees began to bear their sweet fruit, yet the time for harvest was still too soon. A dry, cool breeze belied the dew still heavy on each blade of grass. A moment in the day so measured and relaxed could only mean one thing: Frustration. Caramel squinted at the sun's rays tickling his closed eyes. He opened them. Regretting it instantly, he turned over to snuggle the big red lug next to him. Any second more like this would be worth putting off the hellish chore the both of them had to perform. Why couldn't he just stay like this, embracing the one pony who made his life bearable? Each light snore that shook his body was appreciated much more than just a funny quirk at that moment frozen in time. Big Macintosh snorted. Well, so much for peaceful slumber. Caramel groaned to himself. “Oh, hells...come on, get up, Mac.” As he understood it, Big Macintosh usually woke himself up before Caramel started living with him. Now the sleepy pony was content to use the other, lighter sleeper as his alarm clock. Hard worker or not, it was steadily becoming annoying. All that drivel about being in love with every single flaw a pony's special somepony had seemed to be just that. “Hey.” He nudged his boyfriend. “Boyfriend. Up and at 'em. I wanna get some food in me and get started, and without you there, it's kind of pointless.” Big Macintosh shifted a little on his side of the bed, smacking his lips. Just the sound of it made Caramel shudder. Focus...you can kill him later. “You'll get to play with the haaaaaay baleeeeeeeees...”, he sang. “I mean, you never do, but you can do it thiiiiiis tiiiiiiime...” He felt Mac's tail flick against him, but still nothing. He leaned in to speak directly in the pony's ear. “Get up before I shove you off the bed.” Smack, smack, smack. The idea was genuinely compelling to him now. Maybe then Mac would keep his mouth shut. He pushed both hooves on Big Macintosh's big back, straining to move him. Nothing. He grunted and cursed as he tried again. Not one inch. Desperately, he planted his hooves on the bed and used his head to budge the suddenly much larger and heavier pony. After fifteen seconds of spectacular effort, he just gave up and tried to catch his breath. “Did Granny...feed you steel...when you were...a foal?” As if hearing him, Caramel heard Immobile Macintosh chuckle in his sleep. He was ready to use everything ounce of strength he had to put the treacherous pony in his place. But suddenly, the door to the room flung open, making both of them start. “Both y'all git up right now! Ah want you two out there and outta this room today!” Sleepy Macintosh slowly sat up in the bed with Caramel and rubbed his eyes. The latter wondered just how little processing was going on in the stallion's head. He had to admit that flaw was cute...if for no other reason than its entertainment value. His rumbling morning voice had its charm as well. “...Whut now?” Applejack sighed before explaining: “Ah'm sick o' this wallowin' you two have been doin' for the past couple o' days. Ah know it's frustratin' to deal with it all, but it hasta be done! Now come on down and get yer breakfast.” She almost walked completely out of sight before she returned with a sheepish face. “Oh, an' Twilight will be joinin' you today. Ah'm not sure whut she plans t'do, but jus' humor her, okay?” After she trotted away, the two wallowers shared a conversation in a glance. Today was going to be memorable for a reason they couldn't divine, it just had to be. Mac yawned big and low enough to make some of the floorboards rattle. “Um...mornin'.” “...Morning. Sleep well?” “Eeyup...sorta.” Caramel saw him rub his back. As guilty as it made him feel, the motion itself drew attention to how well Mac was...proportioned. It was a nice perk that he had enjoyed more than once in places far, far away from Applebloom; in times of comfort and voluntary oblivion; in ways they continually invented each time... He felt itchy. Unfortunately. “Good, good...I guess we should get going.” “Eeyup.” “I'll get the shoes, you get the hay? After breakfast, obviously.” “Eeyup.” “...You going to start talking to me again? It's like your vocabulary shriveled up over the summer.” Mac pulled Mel in close and kissed him, morning breath and all. Mel hoped it wasn't too repulsive; then again, it wasn't ever before. And then again, as the kiss deepened, it was clear how meaningless it was. Who cared if a pony's breath was rank when said pony was caressing the other so thoroughly, so gently? He was completely awake by the time they parted. “Um...I guess some things don't need to be said.” Mac smiled, his eyes alight and engaged. He got a small lick under his chin. “Nnope!” Reluctantly, both of them got off the bed, went through the morning ritual side by side, and made to go downstairs as demanded. Before walking out the doorframe, Macintosh winced loudly and sat down to rub his back. Caramel tried to attend to his boyfriend before said boyfriend suddenly stopped and looked at him, with an accusing glance. He suppressed his thoughts and looked at the window. “...I tossed and turned a little.” Caramel lazily twirled a yellow shoe around his front right hoof, tossing a blue one from his tail aimlessly across the fallow field they were using for that day. He was forcing himself to keep trying at this, as much as it drained him. Macintosh would bring the rest of the hay bales over; Macintosh would watch him ruin the bales with no progress being made, no insight gained. He knew nothing would change, and why would it? That was his lot in life. Smile, Caramel, just smile. The one clue they got from the Princess just seemed to mock him. The only way they knew to go about it was to have them in the area when they experimented. Shoe tricks while laboring just sounded ridiculous. But then again, by this point, he would try all of them backwards just to learn something to make it all less terrible. “It's a nice day today, isn't it?” Caramel came to his senses at the sound of Twilight's voice. He hoped she could do something about...well, him. But he wasn't in the mood for small talk. “Sure.” Twilight frowned, then continued scribbling on her clipboard. The tired pony spotted Mac toting the damn bales over to him from the renovated barn, made possible by the money he accrued when he still had a job. The Apples had to rebuild it from the foundation: new wood, new red and white paint, new supporting structures, new everything. It looked gorgeous from where he stood, mostly because it contrasted so nicely with the dried, cracked mud of the field right next to it. His old shelter was a real barn now. BAM! BAM! BAM! Mac really seemed to like chucking the bales dangerously close to him. Maybe the big lug was trying to tell him something...? “Alright,” Twilight said as she looked up to both of them. “let's get started. I don't need to see you disintegrate a bale normally, Caramel; your description told me enough. But I'd like to try something specific with the shoes here.” Wait, she had a plan? A real one? Caramel's legs felt slightly lighter suddenly. Big Macintosh said nothing. “Okay, shoot,” said Caramel. “Take that one next to you and push on a bale with it. Do it slowly so I can see what happens, if you would please,” she ordered with an eager smile. Doing as told, the now optimistic pony picked up the silver-colored shoe and walked over to the square bale on his right. He placed the shoe between his hoof and the tightly packed hay, focusing his gaze purely on both. He pushed ever so slightly... I can do this. This could really be the answer...! ...then a little more... You're not actually sinking, it's just nerves. Come on, come on...! ...then a little more... Oh geez oh pony this is so nervewracking don't fall apart don't fall apart please! ...until he cleared a few inches in front of him. The bale moved as one unit. He did it. He was free. “...I did it. I-I DID IT! I REALLY DID IT! I ACTUALLY MOVED A DAMN BALE WITHOUT KILLING IT! HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAA!” He leapt backwards into the air for a somersault, loving the rush of wind against his whole body... ...when he landed into a shallow basin that wasn't there before. It wasn't just any basin...it was huge and filled with grey, sandlike powder. It must have formed behind him as he pushed. Instantly, he was reminded of when he discovered his affliction as a foal. Little Macintosh was shaking the more stubborn apples out of the trees, and so he decided to mimick him. He pressed all his measly strength into the bark for a good shake...but he couldn't even budge it. He took a deep breath and just smiled. But when he looked down, he saw a grey patch of shredded grass and dirt beneath him. Horrified, he quickly covered it up with fresh dirt, which thankfully stayed fresh. He ran home to tell his mother. He did it. But he wasn't free. Of course he wasn't. “...Mel?” Mel looked around him. The hay bale stood silently over the edge of his 'accomplishment'. His boyfriend looked completely floored, and even Twilight had stopped scribbling to gape at the gaping hole. He hated their faces. “...Well, that's a 'grey' way to start,” he joked. They didn't laugh. He wanted to believe that was because it was a bad joke. “That...”, Twilight spoke in a tiny voice, “...was remarkable. It has to be twenty yards wide! This could mean your condition has directional properties, depending on--” “Twilight?” “Not now, I need to--” “Just stop.” Both of their faces slowly turned worried. He resisted the urge to plant his own into the dust just so he couldn't look at them. He settled for sitting in the dust instead. “Mel, let her help you. If'n whut she says--” “Mac, I can't do it,” said Caramel. “Not when stuff like this can happen. I don't want to...to decimate your farm...” He swallowed. “W-We gotta git past this,” Mac pressed. “Just do the same with all yer hooves, an' that should do it...right?” Twilight scribbled some before saying: “I...believe so! Yes! That should do the trick!” That was the single stupidest thing he had heard all day. “All four?! Are you two crazy?! The only way that would work is if I affixed the shoes to...” “...to...my hooves...” Of course. Why did nopony else think of it? Of course it was that simple. It had to be. It. Had. To. Be. --- He had to open his big mouth. “Miss Sparkle, Ah think you should leave.” “What?!”, Twilight complained. “But we're so close to--” “GIT OUTTA HERE!” Big Macintosh stared the curious mare down, making sure she didn't sneak her way back. What he wanted to say wasn't for anypony but himself and Caramel. Neither of them needed this sort of thing to be spread around town. As far as he was concerned, however, it was going to stop here. Caramel walked out of the depression in the field as he asked: “So why did you bark at her to leave? I mean, I'm guessing you had good reason for it, but--” “Yer not doin' it.” As he expected, the misguided stallion was confused. He was usually charmed by that confused face, but not now, not for this. “What? You mean shoe myself, right? Not something weird you just thought up?” Exasperated, he answered: “Why the hells would Ah mean somethin' else? Of course Ah mean you cain't shoe yerself. An' that's non-negotiable.” As he also expected, Caramel looked like he was ready to rip off his face. If he had to fight for his mandate, then so be it. He would win. “...Assuming that it would work, you have no right to deny me and you know it.” Here we go. “First of all,” he said with his chest puffed, “that's a mighty big 'assumin' there, babe. Second of all, Ah don' recall havin' no say in whut you do with yer life at all. And third of all...Ah said yer not doin' it, so yer not doin' it.” Caramel looked dumbfounded...but this was nowhere near the end. Not even close. “...Okay,” his defiant little colt grunted through clenched teeth, “then let me ask you something, Mr. Doesn't Understand Free Will: why the hells cain't Ah do it?” “Two reasons,” Macintosh illustrated with two shoes next to him, pointing to one after another. “One: yer not a horse. Two: YER NOT A DAMN HORSE.” “OH REALLY?!”, Caramel threw back, getting a shoe to twirl as he spoke. “That's really funny, then, seeing as my talent is HORSE-shoes. I guess I'm just a mindless wannabe.” “Shoes,” he insisted. “An' nopony wants t'be a horse. Those days are long gone, an' good riddance.” “...Mac. Call them what they are. Horseshoes. To be honest, I don't know why ponies don't call them that anyway.” He couldn't believe what he was hearing. “After all, it's not like--” “Are you SERIOUS?! Didja just SLEEP durin' yer school days?!” “I flunked. Remember? You were there when I attended my last day.” Mac flustered at the thought. He did flunk, didn't he? That just fit the situation so perfectly. “...Ah thought that wuz you switchin' t'homeschoolin',” he suggested anyway. “...In a way,” Caramel offered. “My dad took me out to investigate my condition and start me in job hunts. He sorta taught me then.” Caramel, Caramel, Caramel...what all has that pony done t'you? “...So I guess I should just ask then: what exactly is a horse, anyway?” “Now why in Equestria are you askin'...WHUT IN TARNATION?!” Applejack stopped in front of the gaping hole in the middle of the fallow field, eyes as wide as they could go. A few horseshoes dotted the perimeter and the inside. “...If'n this is normal fer you, Caramel, Ah don' really want you researchin' on mah farm. Land sakes...literally.” Despite how it probably appeared to his boyfriend, Macintosh knew this was the perfect opportunity. History lessons were always better with a personal touch, after all. “Caramel...”, he drawled, “wants t'shoe himself. He thinks it's a good idea.” His sister made no expression at the news, but instead started scanning the sky. “Keep in mind he missed some schoolin',” Mac commented. “But...you know.” “...AJ?”, the clueless pony questioned anxiously. “Whaddya think?” Applejack kept examining the sky. “Um...what are you doing, exactly?” She looked straight at Caramel and said: “Looking for hordes of ancient pegasi warriors. Looks like they didn't get the memo.” Mac made a point of laughing at the joke; it rumbled richly and obnoxiously, carrying all across the ruined field. Mel looked miserable as his ears drooped...but dammit, it was for his own good. “Okay, okay...I take it 'shoeing' has a reputation I didn't know about, and it has to do with what a horse is.” “Eeyup,” both brother and sister confirmed. “And that means a horse is probably some...Earth Pony warrior from ancient times.” “Eeyup.” “...Actually, just a pony warrior in general,” AJ clarified. “Okay. Sooooooo me getting shod would be like...a declaration of war, even though nopony's fighting.” “Well, whut you missed in school, you make up fer in smarts,” said Applejack. As Caramel's misery deepened, Mac couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret. The poor pony really didn't know any of this, but he needed to make the correct impression. If he didn't... “So what?”, said Caramel. ...Whut? “I mean, it's not like we're in a war right now.” Whut?! “And I'm sure ponies would be understanding, since it's an old ritual anyway.” WHUT?! “So history or no history, I don't see--” “HOW CAN YOU...Ah mean,” Macintosh forced out, “Ah think yer bein' too nonchalant 'bout this. AJ, back me up here.” AJ looked conflicted. Why did she look conflicted? What conflict could there possibly be? “Well, when he puts it that way...Ah dunno, big brother.” Ah have no sister. Well, 'cept for Applebloom. “Ah do,” Big Macintosh insisted. “You shoe yerself an' we'll all have ponies losin' their minds like in the cataclysm. These things are weapons when they're lodged in hooves. You know how strong Ah am now?” Caramel didn't seem concerned. Mac could pull houses by hopping, and Caramel didn't seem concerned. He was beginning to feel the little pony had spent too much time with him. “Yeah, what of it?”, said Caramel. “Imagine if'n Ah had metal on mah hooves," said Macintosh. "Ah could easily kill a pony with that.” “Shoot...,” Applejack interjected, “not even a kick. Jus' a vague gesture would do th' trick. Them shoes were hung back in th' day as good luck charms fer battles. Now, they're jus' decorative or tossed 'round. Ah think even th' royal guards ain't shod jus' t'prevent any mishaps.” Mac nodded. “You shoe yerself,” he reiterated, “an' yer actions could be deadly fer somepony.” Now Caramel just seemed confused, scratching his chin in what Mac hoped was thought on how shoeing was wrong. But he had a feeling the fight wasn't finished. “Well, you'd kill a pony because you're HUGE. I mean, come on. What would it really matter if I did it?”, the little pony objected with a laugh. “I'm just a regular stallion, nothing that special.” “Even a little colt like you could be a weapon with those,” Macintosh elaborated. Right then, he imagined Caramel buying food in the town market, when he would innocently stick his hooves out trying to reach his purchase and knock some poor sap unconscious. “...I don't really buy that.” “It's true, an' yer gonna hafta trust me. It's a hard fact Ah don' wanna prove.” “Well...”, a stubborn Mel continued, “I'll just be careful. Even if I mess up, it's not like I have giant hooves to bore anypony, right?” “An' that's the other problem,” he rebutted bitterly. It was the last thing he wanted to imagine...but Mel just wouldn't quit. He closed the distance between them and picked up one of the pony's hooves, pressing it against one of his own. He had to fight the silliest urge to nuzzle him, as infuriating as it was. “Oh?”, Caramel said with audible unease. “W-Whaddya mean by this?” “Look at yer hoof...then look at mine. See the problem?” He watched his colt examine both hooves, looking none the wiser afterward. How could he not notice? “Where is there a problem?” “Yer sole's bare,” he answered anyway. “Mine's got a wall here as you can see. If'n Ah got shod, it'd be fine...maybe a little tingly. But you'd be shoving nails into yer legs, Caramel. Didja think 'bout that at all?” “Oh, heavens t'Betsy, Ah didn't even think 'bout that!”, AJ commented. “S-Shoot, jus' th' thought of it...Caramel, you'd be nothin' short' o' crazy t'do that! Most ponies would, really, since only a few still have that part o' the hoof. Ah reckon some ponies jus' stopped comin' with 'em after it stopped.” “Ah'm not even sure it could be done without breakin' yer bones, babe. So...all that's why you cain't shoe yerself.” After he said that, however, it suddenly sounded slightly hollow to him. But why would it? Nothing he had said was false. Just to be safe, he brushed Mel's hair a little to remind the pony of his intent. Caramel's face was neutral now. Mac knew his mare made that face when she was about to rip his argument to shreds. He was ready for whatever she had to throw at him, even if it took all day to debunk. He was not going to lose this. “All I have to say to that,” the stubborn pony started with a gesture to the crater, “is this.” As Caramel said it, a gust of wind picked up some of the dust in the basin and swept it off to some strange corner of the world. The hole looked even bigger now. Mac sat down and cradled his face in his hooves. He hated this. He hated this so very much. “I try not to complain about my condition. Really I do. But the fact that I'm capable of this is so awful sometimes I can't breathe. And you know...? Something just occurred to me.” Macintosh just sat there silently, too anxious to ask what Caramel meant. “...This pit happened when we had a few horseshoes around. At the stadium, we had dozens of them. My curse is directly affected by these, it has to be. A-And I know full well the shoes themselves don't make the problem when I use them. So...it's the only real solution. It has to be.” “...Nnope.” “I have to shoe myself to keep whatever this is...contained.” “Nnope.” He exaggerated standing up and pressing his face to Mel's. Mel pushed back as defiantly as the last time. “Mac, you just stop it. This is my decision. I wasn't kidding when I said you have no right to stop me.” Off toward the apple trees, Mac heard hoofsteps headed away from the site. “Nnope!” Caramel looked ready to attack him as he blocked the pony from leaving. It was all he had left. “Now, big brother, jus' calm down...,” his sister objected from somewhere in the distance. “Yeah, if you'd stop being a JERK for one second, then you'd SEE why I need to--” “NO, CARAMEL!” The ground trembled as he stomped it. “AH SAID NO! YER NOT DOIN' IT, AN' THAT'S THAT!” The little stallion was speechless. Good. It was time for this to end. “...Ah'll pin you down if Ah hafta. An' you don' want me t'do that, trust me.” His brain was on fire. This was wrong. Everything he was doing was wrong, but he had no choice. Caramel couldn't go and do that to himself...to him. “...Do it.” ...Oh, no. Mac couldn't escape the dead-eyed expression Mel was giving him. That was the ugliest Mel had ever looked, even as the pony laid down in front of him like so many times before. “Go ahead and pin me down. I don't care. It's nothing you haven't done before, anyway.” “Ah'm gonna go now. I-It's clear Ah'm not needed,” Applejack announced as she galloped away. He glared at the traitor, making her run away faster. “Goodbye, Applejack. Or...,” Mel teased darkly, “should I say goodbye to everypony? It's up to you. If I can't get this because you won't let me...” Don' say it. Don' you dare say it. “...Then I might as well be dead.” You little...! “I'm ready to fight for this, babe. I have plenty of weapons at my disposal. Come on. Let's do this.” He stood purposefully over Caramel, staring down the reckless pony. “...Yer not doin' it.” “Not doing what? Not getting shod, or not getting...not getting...oh, pony, what am I doing?” There's mah babe. Welcome back. “I...I just...I just want out. I want out of this; it's all I've ever wanted. I-I don't...think that's unreasonable...!” In an instant, tears started to flow down Mel's face. Big Macintosh felt his purpose crumble before him. His might was gone, his voice was weak, his eyes burned, and he just felt meek. The sight of this silly pony in the grips of despair...it just wasn't right. He bent down to be the comforter he wanted to be. ...Oh, pony, what have Ah done? Caramel...oh, mah sweet baby, why cain't Ah fix you? Why am Ah so helpless?! “Mel, baby, please...” he soothed as he embraced him. “Ah jus' don' want you to hurt yerself like that. I mean, if'n it didn't work...you'd be stuck with it. You'd be stuck with ponies bein' afraid o' you and you bein' afraid o' yerself. Ah don' want that fer you, you gotta believe me...” Caramel sniffled. “I...I get that,” the tragic pony said weakly. “I don't get why you won't let me do it. It's the only way and you know it!”, he finished with an angry crescendo. “Mel...” “I'm...I'm begging you, Mac. Please...let me do this. If it doesn't work – even though it will...then that'll be my problem.” If'n it were only that simple...Ah shoulda just offered t'support him mahself. Too late now, with how he's actin'. “It'd be mah problem, too, babe,” he corrected. “Ah'd...Ah'll...” ...Ah cain't believe Ah'm doin' this. Dammit, you play me like a fiddle without even tryin', Caramel. “Oh, damn it to the six hells.” Caramel's eyes widened. “You mean...?!” “...It's not worth makin' you miserable t'keep you from doin' it,” he conceded. “So...so you can...*sigh* you can go on an' hammer nails in yer hooves if'n it makes you happy.” Ah'll never forgive mahself fer this, will Ah? His introspection was quickly cut off by Mel's thankful tongue. Each generous lick suspended his misery just a little...until he shared his own tongue in a blissful caress. Mac found himself hoping that if he kept Mel there long enough in the kiss, eventually all the ponies willing to shoe him would die so he could relax. Or if they weren't dead, he could just...displace them in convenient locations, slip them some bits to keep them quiet. And if that didn't work... ...When did Ah start havin' evil thoughts? T'ain't like me—oh yeah, right there...If'n every argument ended like this, horses wouldn't even have existed. The two parted far too soon. Caramel had that gentle fire in his eyes again, thank Celestia. “Well then,” his colt began, “I have some letters to write. I know a few doctors that would probably do it--” Oh really? Whut are their names? Really, Ah'd like t'know... ...Dammit, stop that, Macintosh. “--and they should really read it from me. It'll be a coin toss, sure, but it'll be worth it.” Macintosh flashed to a scenario of Mel beside himself with grief in front of a shredded pile of drafts. If that's what the pony wanted...sheesh. He felt itchy. “Mmhmm.” “Hey, come on”, Mel soothed. “It's all gonna be okay. I promise. Now let's get outta this field.” Mac snorted as he pulled Mel up slowly. He was doing everything in his power to fight off the image of the sweet pony at the mercy of some deranged practitioner, shoving in nail by nail. He refused to believe it really came down to that...but there wasn't anything he could do. Baby, it's gonna hurt...in more ways than one. Ah sure hope yer right. Twilight analyzed her data for the fifth time, absolutely convinced of what it meant and what she had to do. Horseshoes and disintegration...the Princess had to know about this.