Appledashery

by Just Essay


The Letter to End All Letters, Six

Down on the farm, Applejack trotted over to where Apple Bloom sat. The little filly was wincing, clutching a freshly scabbed right forelimb.

Squatting down, Applejack opened a first aid it and pulled out some disinefectant and a bandage. With gentle, sisterly grace, she cleaned and covered Apple Bloom's tiny wound. The little filly clenched her teeth the whole time. Even once the ordeal was over, she was having a hard time containing her tears.

Applejack saw it, and she only smiled. She leaned in and rested her chin atop Apple Bloom's head, meanwhile her right forelimb scooped the foal towards her.

Apple Bloom sniffled, letting loose a tear or two. Still, once she was in Applejack's embrace, she smiled—and buried her face softly into the older mare's chest.

Applejack hummed a gentle little melody, and its harmonic notes reached as high as the treetops above Sweet Apple Acres.


It's a love that keeps me awake in the daytime and snuggles me warmly at night.

It's a love that makes every tear worth shedding and each laugh worth waiting for.

It's a love that knows no shame, no regrets, even when life is dark and dreary because I'm far away from you.

When the problems pile up and my future looks grim, I just imagine that I'm talking to you... listening to you... seeing you. Everything instantly warms up. The shadows melt away. I've dreamt awesome, scary things. Awesome because they make me wake up with a smile. Scary because I didn't know my brain was capable of being so sappy. But I suppose that's what a mare gets for having her brain attached to her heart... and my heart's stolen by you, Applejack.

It's stolen by the way you smile, the tone in your voice, the air of authority that just sticks to your strong muscles like dew drops on an apple's skin. It's stolen by how safe I feel when you're in the same room as me, and how the scent of cinnamon lingers in the air even an hour after you're gone.

I hear you speaking so kindly of your friends, calling everypony "sugarcube" and "darlin'," finding ways to be endearing in the midst of how friggin' strong and cool you are. So often I've wished... I've longed to be the center of such attention, such loving and sisterly adoration. All the trophies and Wonderbolt uniforms in the world wouldn't come close to stacking up to a single hoof-bump from you, or a friendly nuzzle, or—Celestia help me—a cuddling hug.

I treasure the idea of being somepony you might care for. Somepony you might love. To be held or loved by you would mean the world to me, because—in the arms of the best pony there ever is—it would absolutely, finally make me feel like a winner. And oh how I wish I could win you. Win your respect. Win your love. And just what would be the trophy, then? Not you, because I wouldn't be worthy of claiming that, or brandishing it. But if somehow the world could see—if all of Equestria could see—that I was yours. That I belonged to you. That I deserved to be called your own. Your very special somepony. Your very own "sugarcube."

It's so much to dream and long for... but I know it's just me. And you are just you. And I'm sharing all of these things with you now—not because I want or expect these things to happen. I just want you to know... I need you to know what it is that has made me get past the rough patches in my life. I want you to know that you don't have to do a single thing for me, Applejack, but that I will always be indebted to you, regardless.