//------------------------------// // Tatterdemalion // Story: No Longer Lost // by KiroTalon //------------------------------// The two mares conversed for several more minutes, discussing classical music, fine dining, and Octavia's unique taste in mates. "It took some time for me to think of her even as just a friend," she remarked, smiling down into the cup of tea Rarity had just placed in front of her. "She was so brash, so obnoxious, and just so...unusual. Initially, I think it was probably my sense of propriety that encouraged me to engage her in conversation to begin with. I was so astounded that anypony could be so openly tactless that I thought for sure I could teach her how to be a proper mare." She blushed faintly, the smile broadening. "As it turned out, I was the one who ended up learning a few lessons, mostly about letting my mane down and not worrying so much about what other ponies thought. Obviously," she said, gesturing to her bowtie and her smoothly brushed mane, "I do still take care of myself, and I do maintain some level of decorum, but, well..." The earth pony chuckled softly. "Sometimes you just have to have a flour fight in the kitchen with someone you love." Rarity laughed and took a sip of tea from the cup hovering in front of her. "Well, having never partaken myself, I'll have to take your word for it." "It's exactly as filthy--and as much fun--as you might expect." "You are quite fortunate to have found someone you care so much about. Are you married?" Octavia blushed. She had never been asked that question twice in one day. She couldn't even remember the last time anyone had bothered to ask at all. "No, we aren't. Not that we never will, but we've simply not made the...decision, I suppose." Rarity smiled knowingly. "Far be it from me to comment on a matter with which I have admittedly little experience, but I must say you sound as though you have found your perfect match. Perhaps it is time to...decide." "Maybe," the earth pony coughed uneasily. "Anyway, it's been lovely, Miss Rarity--" "Oh, please, darling, call me Rarity. 'Miss' is for customers and admirers, not for friends." The unicorn smiled warmly, looking suddenly more genuine and personable than she had yet that morning. "Alright, Rarity. It really has been wonderful, but I must be going. I have an errand or two to complete this afternoon before I must be home to take Scootaloo off of Vinyl's hooves." "Of course. Oh, but before you go!" The unicorn's horn glowed with telekinetic magic as the record still playing quietly in the corner was suddenly interrupted and floated over towards the pair. A quill floated out of a nearby desk, and Rarity was suddenly wearing an expression of deepest sycophancy. "If you would do me the sincerest honor..." Octavia had, feeling just a little foolish, but elated just the same. Afterwards, she had nodded politely at Rarity's insistence that they meet up again soon, perhaps for a spa date, but left with no firm plans. She had to admit a spa day sounded like great fun, and it would certainly feel more...distinguished if she were to go with Rarity than if she went with Vinyl, whom she suspected would spend most of the time surreptitiously eating the cucumber slices intended for the mud masks. She made a mental note to get back in touch with the friendly--if a tad bit superficial--fashionista. Now, though, Octavia realized she was swiftly heading in precisely the opposite social direction as she trotted down the path towards Sweet Apple Acres. The pristinely groomed dirt roads of the town gave way to a rocky, rutted trail that was only distinguishable from the surrounding area by the rough-hewn wooden fences on either side of it. The indistinct but pleasant scent of a crisp spring afternoon gave way to the much more intense and specific aromas of a fruit and flower farm. The bright, clean scent of lemons wafted across the stronger, sweeter essence of oranges. Almost lost in the powerful citrus bouquet was the much more delicate combination of young daffodils and the heady, succulent perfume of freshly blooming magnolia trees. This struck the earth pony as odd, considering she was approaching a farm called "Sweet Apple Acres," but as she got closer to the barn, she realized that while the bulk of the farm did appear to be covered in an apple orchard, there were several plots that contained other varieties of plants, including the lemon, orange, and magnolia trees she'd already identified, as well as large beds of daffodils, phlox, and snowdrops just barely peeking out of the loamy earth. The scent of the apple trees was barely noticeable, as the vast plantation had yet to bloom, the early spring frost keeping the timid flowers from blossoming. Octavia smiled broadly, pausing in the middle of the road to take a deep breath through her nose, the sultry aroma flooding her senses with a euphoric giddiness. Her mouth watered at the prospect of tasting any of the vegetation, with a special consideration for the tender, minute blooms of the snowdrop, her personal favorite. Octavia's stomach suddenly growled furiously. Breakfast had been several hours ago, and whilst walking all over Ponyville, the only additional sustenance she'd had all day were a few light biscuits that Rarity had brought out to share with the tea. With a pang of hunger, and just a hint of guilt, the silver-coated mare glanced anxiously up and down the path before gingerly walking over to the nearest bed of snowdrops and taking a closer, deeper sniff. "What the hay do you think yer doin'?" Octavia started so violently at the rustic voice that she almost leapt into the bed of flowers and hid. Instead, she simply whirled around to face the speaker, shouting, "I wasn't going to eat any! I just wanted to smell them!" A bright orange earth pony mare with a worn brown leather hat perched atop a long straw-colored mane pulled back into a ponytail stepped back, holding up a hoof in a defensive posture. "Whoa there, sugar cube. Didn' mean t' startle ya. I jus' wanted t' make sure ya weren't gonna take anythin' without askin', is all." "Oh," Octavia straightened, brushing the edges of her bowtie self-consciously. "No, I was just...entranced by their aroma. You have grown a lovely bed of snowdrops here; it's been some time since I've seen any in the wild, and these are particularly beautiful." "Well, thank ye kindly, miss..." the orange pony smiled broadly as she trailed off. "Oh, Octavia. Octavia Philharmonica," she responded to the prompt. The farmer chuckled softly. "That there's a mouthful. Mind if I jus' call ya Octy?" Octavia did mind, but she decided not to say so. It was a minor irritation, one she had had to cope with many times before, as most ponies found her name somewhat of a chore to enunciate in full. At least she had chosen 'Octy' instead of her friend Lyra's personal favorite, 'Opie.' "I suppose not. And what might I call you?" The mare doffed her hat and grinned. "Name's Applejack, proud proprietor 'n' part owner a' Sweet Apple Acres--only th' best plantation anywhere in Equestria." She gestured at Octavia with mock ferocity. "An' don' let nopony tell you otherwise, y'hear?" Octavia smiled. "I wouldn't worry about it. I believe you." She glanced at the vibrant trees and flowers all around her. "I can see for myself that you run a beautiful farm." "Well thank ye kindly," Applejack repeated, beaming with pride. "I saw y'all eyeballin' the snowdrops there. It's a little early for 'em, but did ya wanna try a couple?" "Oh, no, I'm not hungry," Octavia lied. Her stomach suddenly growled again, catching both ponies' attention and bringing a light blush to her cheeks as it betrayed her deception. Applejack grinned and chuckled. "Ah think yer stomach might have a diff'rent opinion on that. Here, I'll grab ya a bunch to snack on while ya find yer way to brunch." "That's very kind of you, but I don't have any money on me right now. I'll certainly come by again another time, though." "Oh, ponyfeathers," the orange mare scoffed, trotting over to the bed and deftly snapping several of the flowers from their stems with careful, practiced bites. "Don' even worry about it." She gathered the bouquet into her hooves and offered them to Octavia. The silver mare shook her head fervently. "Oh, no, I couldn't possibly--" "Nonsense. 'S the least I c'n do fer a new friend. Take 'em, Ah insist." Octavia was about to refuse again when she caught the hard edge in the other mare's eye that suggested there was no conversational path that ended in Octavia leaving without the flowers. The silver pony sighed shallowly and smiled, taking the bouquet from the farmer. "Well, if you insist. I really do appreciate it, and I promise I'll pay for them eventually." "Now, Octy, you know I cain' accept payment fer a gift. I saw you lookin' at those snowdrops an' I knew you wanted to have a few. I jus' wanted ya t'ask, tha's all." She smiled. "'Sides, one bouquet ain't gonna hurt us none, an' you look like a classy sort ah pony who can appreciate nice flowers." Octavia sighed again, this time combining the exasperated sound with a shake of her head. "Oh, very well. They are beautiful, Applejack. Thank you." "Try one!" The silver mare did as she was ordered, carefully selecting and nipping off one of the larger blooms that was just barely opening. The icy fresh flavor immediately chilled the tip of her tongue and spread swiftly through her mouth, the slightest hint of sweetness cutting through the sharp bitterness of the young flower. She closed her eyes and savored the morsel for a moment or two before swallowing it with a level of satisfaction well beyond what the tiny flower should have provided. When she opened her eyes again, Applejack was grinning widely at her. "Whatcha think?" Octavia beamed. "They are sublime. Thank you so much." The other mare waved a hoof dismissively. "Aw, shucks. 'Tweren't nothin' ay'tall. Now, did y'all come by jus' ta browse, 'r were ya lookin' ta place an order?" "Oh," Octavia said, awkwardly shifting the flowers from hoof to hoof, "actually, neither. Not that your orchards and flowers aren't wonderful," she gestured to the bouquet, "but I honestly came by just to talk." "Talk, huh?" Applejack tilted her head curiously. "What'cha wanna talk about?" "You're Apple Bloom's sister, correct?" "Sure am. Why? Don' tell me she's gone and gotten herself in another scrape," the earth pony lamented in precisely the same tone that Rarity had used earlier in the day. "No, no, nothing like that. I actually only ask because I'm trying to collect some information about one of her friends. Do you know Scootaloo?" "Her little pegasus pal. Yeah, I know 'er." Applejack's eyes suddenly narrowed. "Why? What d'ya think ya need ta know?" The sudden change in tone and expression startled the silver pony somewhat. "Nothing bad, I promise! I just was trying to get some details about her past, possibly fill in some of the blanks about her present, and maybe figure out what her future might look like. I was concerned--" "Well," Applejack suddenly cut her off, her tone frosting even further, "not that it's any ah yer bus'ness, but she lives here, with th' Apples. She has fer as long as anypony's concerned, and she'll continue t'do so fer as long as she needs. Anythin' more'n that an' yeh'll have'ta ask her, 'cause I ain't betrayin' her trust in me, if'n you don' mind." The mare suddenly turned around and started back down the path towards the farmhouse. "No, no, wait!" Octavia shouted, dropping the flowers and running around in front of her. "I'm sorry, I think I gave you the wrong impression. I'm not just some random stranger asking, I...okay, I know Scootaloo is--was, an orphan. I know she's been living in the clubhouse and surviving on the kindness of her friends and their family." Applejack's face registered a modicum of surprise, but she maintained her frosty demeanor. "Well, if'n ya knew all that, why'd y'ask?" Octavia sighed. "I'm still trying to figure out how to address this, but...my partner and I have decided that we'd like to adopt Scootal--" The mare was suddenly silenced as Applejack dove forward to embrace her in a rib-cracking hug. "Oh, thank Celestia! Ah cain't even tell ya how happy Ah am t'hear somepony say that! When ya started askin' about her past an' her future, I thought...well, she won' tell us much--wouldn' even tell us she was livin' in the clubhouse, but shucks, we know this here farm like th' back of our hooves; ain't much goes on here we don' know about--we figured she must'a been hidin' from somethin', so we didn' ask too many questions. Are ya really plannin' on adoptin' her?" Octavia tried to respond, but Applejack's hug was still stifling her. She made some strangled whimpers to alert the powerful earth pony to her plight, and the zealous mare released her, sitting back and brushing her off with a sheepish grin. "Hehe, sorry about that. Guess I got a li'l excited." Octavia panted as delicately as she could muster, trying to catch her breath. "It's...it's quite alright. I understand completely." She straightened her bowtie and ran a hoof through her mildly disturbed mane. "To answer your question, nothing is set in stone yet, but yes, that is the plan. We...I would prefer to get some sort of official recognition first, but that requires some more details that I simply can't get from her, details like where she actually came from, and--if at all possible--whether her parents are still alive, and where they might live now. Barring that, I suppose we would at least need to know where she used to live--what orphanage she came from--so we can get their official consent, lest they come and try to claim her again someday." Applejack nodded. "That makes sense, Ah s'pose. An' Ah wish Ah could help ya, but, well, it's hard t' get a straight answer outta that filly. If y'all know Scoots, then ya know how stubborn she can be." "Oh yes," Octavia agreed, nodding somberly. "We know quite well. I think that's part of her charm, though. At least, that's part of what makes her so charming to me. She's rather like my marefriend in that regard. They're both quite bullhead--" "Wait, yer marefriend?" Applejack suddenly cut her off with a look of surprise. "Yer partner's a girl?" "Um...yes?" Octavia said. "Why, what difference does that make?" "Well...none, Ah guess. Ah jus' though when ya said y'all were gonna adopt Scoots, I just figured you musta been married." "Well, we could be," Octavia bristled slightly. "We simply haven't decided to cross that bridge yet. But even if we didn't, I don't see how that would affect our ability to raise a filly." Applejack shook her head, not exactly smiling, but no longer visibly disturbed, either. "Ah suppose. Well, whatever makes you happy, Ah guess. An' I don't reckon it matters much, so long as Scoot's got someplace to call home." "I'm so glad you approve," Octavia deadpanned, somewhat miffed. The orange earth pony sighed and smiled wryly. "Ah, shucks. Don't y'all mind me none. Ah guess Ah'm just ol' fashioned, that's all. If yer happy, that's all that matters, right?" "I should certainly hope so," Octavia spat, and then immediately regretted her venomous tone. She took a deep breath and tried again. "I mean, yes, once upon a time, I might well have agreed with you. I used to be of a rather old-fashioned mindset myself, but...well, falling in love has a strange way of making you reconsider your stance on a lot of things." Applejack chuckled softly, rubbing the back of her neck with a hoof. "Yeah...Ah've heard as much from some ah mah friends, too. Anyhow, if'n y'all really want ta know more 'bout Scoots 'n' her past, ye'll wanna talk to Rainbow Dash. Li'l filly follows that crazy pegasus all over the place. If she's told anypony anythin', RD'd be the one." Octavia sighed shallowly in disappointment, having hit yet another dead end. "Oh well. Thank you for your help, anyway, and especially for the flowers. I...hope I didn't offend you, snapping like I did." "Shoot no. If anyone should be apologizin', it's me. I was outta line, an' 'tweren't none a mah business." She held out a hoof to the other mare. "Bygones 'n' all that." Octavia smiled as she shook the proffered hoof. "Quite." "Great! Now, we best hurry if we're gonna make it to brunch before Big Mac takes all the best parts an' leaves us nothin' but the seeds and skins." Applejack was suddenly behind her, leaning a shoulder against her flank and pushing her towards the farmhouse. Octavia could just barely hear a the unmistakable clanging of a worn iron triangle echoing through the orchard. "Wait, what?" Octavia said, utterly bewildered but unable to resist the stronger pony's shoving. "I can't stay, I have to--" "Fiddlesticks! Nopony should work through lunch, an' it's the least I can do, since I cain't help you with Scootaloo." "But you already--the flowers--and yelling!" Octavia struggled to muster a coherent and sufficient argument, but her stomach suddenly growled again, indicating her appetite had only been whetted by the flower she'd sampled moments ago. She sighed in defeat and acquiesced to Applejack's shoving, allowing herself to be led to the farmhouse. "Fine, fine...but just a sandwich or something. I refuse to take advantage of your kindness...no matter how much you may want me to." Applejack grinned and winked. "Whatever you say, Octy."