//------------------------------// // One: Surprises // Story: White Apple, Red String // by Nom dePlume //------------------------------// Breep, breep, breep! Bra-breep, bra-breep, bra-breep! Breeeep! "Fine, fine, just shut up!" Applejack rolled heavily out of bed and brought a hoof down on top of the alarm clock. A huge yawn tore out of her mouth as she stretched and pushed her mane out of bleary green eyes. Morning already? Feels like I hardy slept. Though that's really nothing unusual, I s'pose... The mare glanced out the dark window as she tugged her brush roughly through her locks and wrapped the ends loosely in a red band. Yep, she thought to herself, sunrise is a long way off. Plenty of time to work before breakfast. As she wandered downstairs, Applejack sorted out the day's schedule. Let's see... It's the twenty-fifth, so we're harvesting the South Orchards today. Mac said he and Gran are taking care of the new farmhooves we need. That's one less thing for me to worry about, I s'pose. She raised a hoof to knock on Applebloom's door, to make sure she was awake, but the door popped open before she could. "Hi, AJ!" Bloom was as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as ever, her bold red mane sticking up in all directions. Applejack chuckled and mussed her sister's hair. "Mornin', kiddo. Get that mess under control and get ready to work. We're harvesting in the South Orchard today. You're on Fetch-and-Carry." Applebloom drew herself up and saluted smartly. "Understood, Commander!" To Applejack's surprise, Bloom managed to hold the pose for a beat or two. Then it was lost in a fit of giggles. Bloom took a few deep breaths, and waved as she eased the door shut. "See ya later, Sis. I'm gonna go 'get this mess under control.'" Applejack grinned. "See that ya do, Private! Be fit to report for duty in fifteen!" "Fifteen what?" Applejack only laughed in reply and cantered down the stairs, towards the back door and the fields. Mac would already be awake, she knew. He was always up long before she was, and asleep long after, watching the stars from his favorite hill. And woe betide the fool that woke Granny Smith up before she was ready. Applejack took a deep breath, and spent a moment enjoying the late August morning. The fall air was crisp and full of energy, even at this early hour. A soft wind blew through the groves, rustling the leaves and making the grass wave and tickle her hooves. She could smell rain on the air, but knew there was nothing scheduled except sun and light breezes for the rest of the week, so that was likely drifting over from the Everfree. A few early-rising birds twittered soft melodies in the treetops, and Applejack closed her eyes and listened before setting to work. Soon, Applejack was lost in the familiar rhythm. Thock! Her hooves hit the trunk. Wshh-- Thmp, thmp, thmp The apples slid through the leaves and hit the baskets. Applebloom would be along to get them and bring them to the cart soon, and Mac would haul them in for storage. I wonder how the cherry harvests went... A perfect system was set up here, a perfect balance. I wonder if Miss Jubilee ever finished those sweetheart groves... I was supposed to help with that. Working together, smooth as clockwork. Everything was just how it was supposed to be. A year ago last week... So why was she so sad? Thock! Why did it feel like something was wrong? Thmp, thmp, thmp. Why couldn't she just bury her mind in her work anymore, and forget her guilt? It worked so well last time... Tha-crkk! Applejack yelped as she felt the tree give. She stumbled, and fell face-first into the dirt, one back hoof still stuck in the newly-widened squirrel-hole. A bitter sob grew in her throat, but she forced herself out of this familiar spiral. Angry, she picked herself up, yanked her hoof free, and proceeded to strike every apple from its branch in the South Orchard. No quarter was granted, and Applejack refused to think of little but the task at hoof. A few hours later, the sun hovered lazily above the distant Crystal Peaks, turning the sky into a gorgeous pale-blue-and-lavender gradient. Suddenly, a metallic jangling shattered the early-morning peace, and woke Applejack from her trance-- The meal bell. Suddenly the orange mare realized just how hungry she was. Her stomach grumbling, she excitedly trotted down to the farmhouse. Warm, sweet smells filled the little oak-paneled kitchen. Granny had breakfast laid out already -- crispy hashbrowns, scrambled eggs, and huge pancake stacks smothered in maple syrup and butter. Applejack smiled gratefully and slid into her seat at the heavy mahogany table. Mac was already in his accustomed place across from her, and Bloom bounded down the stairs and hopped into her own chair. No one took a bite until Granny Smith had eased herself into her old, rickety rocker (she refused to sit in any other chair in the house) and set into the food herself. Applejack cut into the pancakes greedily and stuffed a sweet forkful into her mouth. They were fluffy and thick, tasting more like clouds of maple syrup and butter than bread. A smile crossed her face. Just like Ma used to make. Gran must've finally figured out her recipe. Wait, are those-- Almonds? I haven't had almond pancakes since... Since the cherry ranch. Laurel, Stone's little cousin, sure liked 'em, though. I wonder what Bloom thinks of 'em? Applejack glanced to the end of the table. Noting the excited look on her little sister's face, she swallowed and raised an eyebrow at the filly. "So what's the plan today, Bloom? After school, you're heading out with Scoots and Sweetie again, right?" "Yep," Applebloom replied brightly. "We're gonna try and get cutie marks in swashbuckling today." Applejack frowned, not sure she'd heard her sister right. "Swashbuckling?" She got a mental image of Bloom sitting on a rowboat, toy sword in the air, while a fish leapt out of the river to pluck the treasure map from her other hoof. Applejack had to bite her tounge to keep from laughing. Applebloom nodded. "Yep!" She took a few more bites before a thoughtful look crossed her face. "Sis? What's a 'swash,' and how do ya buckle one?" Applejack laughed and shook her head, spearing the last bite of her pancakes and swirling them in the syrup. "Well, if I tell ya, ya won't learn anything, will ya?" Applebloom frowned and glared at her sister. "You don't know, do ya?" Applejack snorted. "I do too." Since Cherry Cola explained it to me, that is. "I just don't wanna tell ya, that's all." The filly's expression shifted into a teasing smirk. "If ya don't know, AJ, it's okay. We're not gonna make fun of ya." "I do too know!" What did Cola say? Something about hitting shields with... Something else? But how does that loop back around to pirates? Ugh. Barbados would know... "Then explain it!" Bloom's voice snapped her back to the breakfast table. "No!" "Why?" "'Cause I said so, and I'm the big sister, so there!" Granny Smith rapped the end of her fork against the table. "Now, both of ya hush and eat yer breakfast. There's chores and school fer you, Bloom, and plenty for you ta get done, Applejack. Get yer food ate so you can get to yer work. Mac and I need the table to interview a new farmhoof this mornin'." Applebloom decided to push the envelope. "I'll eat. As soon as AJ tells me what a swash is." At this point, Applejack had had enough; it was leave or yell. She stood up from the table abruptly, startling her three family members. "I'm not hungry. I'm gonna go sort the apples we harvested this morning." Mac glanced between the three mares, at a loss as to what had just happened. "Jack? Jack, come back here!" A slammed kitchen door was all the answer he got. ~*~ The storage cellar was cool and dim, lit by a simple electric lantern hanging from its hook in the ceiling. Canned vegetables and fruits stood three-deep on the wraparound shelving, and an assortment of Granny's cooking and medicinal herbs hung drying on the far wall. At the workbench, Applejack sifted aimlessly through the cartload of fruit, thinking. Maybe I was overreacting... Bloom didn't mean any harm. She just... Doesn't always know when to quit. I'll have to apologize later. Shaking her head, she grabbed a bushel and dragged it over to the bench, where an assortment of empty barrels stood waiting. Hm... This one would be a good baking apple. Here's one that's pretty bruised... It belongs with the cider apples. Ooh-- A gala! Gala apples were Applejack's favorite snack, and she hadn't eaten much more than those pancakes at breakfast. But she wasn't supposed to eat the apples she was working with. She glanced up at the door above her. It was so shiny and rosy and sweet-smelling... Surely one small apple wouldn't hurt? Hungrily, she took a bite-- And spit it right back out. The apple tasted bitter and sour, with a nasty grainy texture that made her tongue twist. What in the hay?! Ugh! Disgusted, she flung the remains of the apple into a corner of the cellar, and sullenly returned to her task. Baking apple. Cider apple. Snack apple. Baking apple. Roasting apple... Some time later, the sound of a hoof knocking drew her attention back up to the door. Still grumpy, she stomped up the stairs and shoved the door open. "What," she snapped. Mac sighed and took the anger without comment. "Jack, I'd like ya ta meet the new farmhoof Gran and I just hired. I'm puttin' you in charge of him, since he said he knew ya." "Hey, Jackie." Stone smiled sheepishly and waved a forehoof. "So... How've ya been?"