At the Gorge

by Jordan179


Chapter 1: To the Gorge

Applejack was only twelve, when her life changed forever.

She was walking with her parents beyond the Southwest Fields. This was technically still Sweet Apple Acres, but the hills rose too high here, and the ground was not well enough watered to make it worthwhile to plant apple trees; and it was too far from the main farm to make it worthwhile to plant anything else. The soil was stony, and the same river that drained the whole Vale of Avalon and flowed south of Ponyville upstream cut deeply through the hills, making a gorge hundreds of heads deep.

There was no practical way of drawing water from the river here; aside from the length of the required hoist, the river which was so gentle at Ponyville here raced between its narrowed banks and battered itself against granite rocks. River barges plied the stream no farther downstream than Ponyville for that reason; no boat could have lived in this white water, nor could any unfortunate Pony who happened to find herself its captive.

A rope bridge had been built here over the gorge, many decades ago by Dawnflower "Sew 'n Sow" Apple and her husband Acorn "Pokey" Oaks, as a quick way across to the Everfree from the White Tail Woods, at a time when it had seemed easy to expand the Acres further into the forest. The grant didn't actually cover the land this far south, but if they found any more useful exotic fruits on the southeastern side, it would be at most only a very technical violation of national parkland to take their seeds, and see if they might be grown on the northwestern. If they found any varieties even half as good as Zap Apples, the family might become not merely established, but seriously wealthy.

Ambition betrayed them. All Pokey found this far south was his death, at the claws and teeth of a manticore. The grief-stricken Dawnflower gave up on the attempt to harvest the Deep Everfree. Greenie had been lucky to have come back from the forest with Zap Apples and her life; the family had since been content with what they could find in the relatively safer near parts of the woods, or grow on their own land grant.

The bridge remained. The creatures of the Everfree showed little interest in using the structure. It was too light and narrow to comfortably bear the weight of most beasts large enough to threaten a full-grown Pony, and besides, most predators with any brains feared Ponies. They had weapons, traps, teamwork and magic: a beast which preyed on Ponies would have a short though interesting life. Even the things of the Everfree were wary of trusting their lives to anything of Pony manufacture.

Time passed. Green Apple, Dawnflower's eldest daughter and the discoverer of the Zap Apples, was now a bewitchingly-beautiful mare in her own right. She met and married Black Smith, and they took to calling themselves Green Smith and Black Smith Apple, uniting their names as they had their persons in wedlock. Greenie had many daughters and sons by her strong metalworking husband Blackie, and her eldest daughter was Melanie Rose -- "Melrose" -- Apple.

More time passed.

Melanie had a certain solemn, sober beauty of her own -- not the flamboyant marehood of her mother, but enough to attract the attention of her second cousin, Tangelo Orange, when he came to Ponyville from Manehattan. He had come to negotiate a deal with Melrose, now mistress of the farm, for Zap Apples, and he wound up negotiating with her entirely another sort of contract. It had been an arrangement unexpected, but one much to the mutual delight of the two cousins.

And the fruits of this deal had been two decades of marital happiness, and their three children: Macintosh Apple, who had his maternal grandfather's strength already apparent in his sturdy sixteen-year-old frame; twelve-year-old Applejack, who frisked happily between her parents, her disposition normally as sunny and sweet as the most delicious of apples, but with a kick to her like the hard cider after which she had been nicknamed; and little Apple Bloom, only a few months old, who had been left behind at the farm in the capable care of her Aunt Apple Leaves.


Applejack was sweet, but passionate, and in her passion full well capable of anger. She had come home from school angry that day, because she had quarreled with her friend, the precocious eight-year-old Rarity Belle. It had been over something silly, she saw that now, a matter of a costume Applejack had insisted on putting together herself for a school play, which Rarity had told her -- in front of her schoolmates -- was "dreadful." That audience had included Landscape Carrot, her best friend in all the world, somepony whom she had hoped to impress by showing him that her many talents included costume design.

Unfortunately, these talents manifestly did not include costume design. Applejack's concept of a costume suitable for Merry Apple, heroine of the First Albionic War of over a century ago, was both historically-inaccurate and downright ugly, as even its creator might have realized had she not been blinded by her own creative pride. Rarity's sin had been to tell this to Applejack -- at first trying to do so constructively and gently -- but Applejack had seen through Rarity's politeness and demanded the truth -- doing so in not entirely polite terms on her own part.

Rarity, despite being but two-thirds Applejack's age, had fire of her own to match her friend's, and that fire rose up in response to Applejack's angry words. Before long, the two fillies were screaming at each other, right in the midst of the schoolyard, with the rest of the students of Ponyville's one-room scholhouse staring on in fascination at the argument. And Landscape was there, at one point trying to calm them down and being shouted at by both of them. At that point, Landscape had wisely left the two angry fillies and moved back to a safer vantage point.

When Applejack had realized that Rarity had gotten her to turn on Landscape, she had gotten even madder. Her feelings for 'Scape were complicated, in a way that she had never experienced toward any other Pony. Sometimes he was just the pal he had always been to her since they had been really small, barely more than foals. Sometimes she felt stirrings of something else, something that she knew had to do with the ways her body and mind had begun changing. She had a good idea what it was she was feeling for him, too, but she had no idea how to express herself without giving him and everypony else all sorts of wrong ideas. But she did know that driving him away was a very bad idea, and in that moment of fury she blamed Rarity for this outcome.

But Rarity did not blame herself at all for this situation. And no more than Applejack would Rarity back down.

Had they been anything other than Ponies, indeed anything other than Equestrian Ponies, the two stubborn fillies would probably have come to blows. However, they were of a relatively gentle species, and came from a culture which mostly abjured the aggressive ue of force. Applejack was a natural scrapper, but her mother had taught her that it was wrong to strike first save in mortal peril; and Applejack very much wanted to do right rather than wrong. Rarity was not easily intimidated, and she had a dark side to her nature that ran deeper than the equivalent in Applejack's sunny soul; it also took more, though, to drive her to violence, and she was well aware in any case that the four-years older Applejack was her physical superior. Thus, neither of them resorted to the use of their hooves.

What they did, instead, was to continue their shrieking quarrel a bit longer. Then Applejack, tired of the whole thing and aware that their teacher Fair Play, drawn by the noise, was about to intervene, simply said "Yer wrong," snatched up her costume, threw it into her saddlebag, and marched away from Rarity, giving her one last contemptuous flick of her tail that stopped just short of touching her. She trotted right to the edge of the schoolyard and opened up into a canter as she hit the road to Sweet Apple Acres, ignoring the rising cries of Fair Play, who had just realized that Applejack was openly leaving the school.

Normally, Applejack was far more respectful toward a legitimate authority. But right now, there was a cold fury deep in Applejack's heart, which she did not want to unleash anywhere around anypony else -- especially not at fragile, kindly, loving Fair Play, who only wanted the best for her students. Not at Rarity, whom Applejack even now remembered was really her friend, rather than her foe. And certainly not at gentle Landscape, who was the best friend she had ever known.

Applejack maintained a brisk trot toward Sweet Apple Acres, gradually dropping her gait into a walk. By the time she actually saw the Northwest Orchard rising up around the bend, she was walking slowly and thoughtfully. Her anger had slowly drained away, and she was going over the points Rarity had made about what was wrong with her costume, thinking about them as rational objections rather than provocations to rage.

And the more she did so, the more her thoughts trended toward a certain unpalatable, and even upsetting conclusion.

But she had to check to be sure.


Big Mac, who was working in the North Field, caught sight of her as she approached on the main road.

"Yore out of school early," he observed. "Anything wrong?"

"Had a fight with Rarity," Applejack told him.

"Fair Play sent you home?" Big Mac asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Naw," said Applejack, "but Ah have to figger out something 'fore IAh see her again."

"What do you need to figger out?" Mac asked.

"If'n Ah was right," Jackie said.

"Well, if'n yew need help, Ah'm here," Mac said. "Grannie n' Gramps are in town shopping. Maw and Paw are makin' the rounds in the South Fields, Ah think."

"Thanks," said Applejack, nodding.

She made her way to the farmhouse. As Big Mac had intimated, it was deserted, save for Apple Leaves, snoring in the living room next to the equally-somnolent foal, Apple Bloom, who was dozing in her crib.

Applejack left her aunt and her baby sister alone. She had no wish to explain herself again, to somepony who might understand her less than did her big brother. She walked upstairs to her room.

When she was there, she spread out the costume on her bed. She examined it from every conceivable angle. She squinted at it, as if to see every possible detail. Then she stepped back and looked at the whole effect.

Then she sighed.

"Durn it," Applejack said. "Rarity was right."

She sighed again.

"What do Ah do now?"


Applejack left the farmhouse as silently as she had come, bringing with her the odious costume. When she left the house she went in the opposite direction from the one in which she had arrived.

On the northern side of the farm Sweet Apple Acres was warm and inviting, with only token fencing between the farm and the rest of Ponyville. From Ponyville came only friends and neighbors -- at worst, busybodies from some level of government, all fired up to tell the Apples what they could or couldn't do with their property, until Granny Smith showed them the land grant from Princess Celestia, which gave the Apples the right to do pretty much anything with Sweet Apple Acres they wanted, short of raising armed rebellion against the Realm, as long as they continued to ward the Vale against "that which might come out of the Everfree," the duty they had faithfully-executed now for some ninety years.

The southern side of the farm was different. Here, Sweet Apple Acres directly bordered the Everfree; here "that which might come out of the Everfree" would first make its appearance. Here, generations of Apples had raised high stone walls, thorn hedges, and wooden stockades, in a maze of defenses whose main purpose was to present as unfriendly and unappetizing as possible an appearance to anything which might consider coming out of the Everfree and menacing the Apples. Here, there were ropes and tripwires and telltales to let them know if anything had already entered.

No passive defenses could possibly keep out the monsters of the Everfree. Sweet Apple Acres was a working farm, not a military base, despite the weapons the Apples stockpiled in their house, and the fact that the typical adult Apple was a more formidable combatant than the typical member of the Day Guard. In fact, it was quite common for Apples to join either the Day Guard or its Night Guard counterpart, especially the elite Night Watch. But the farm normally lacked numbers sufficient to actually hold the defenses.

So it was necessary for the Apples to occasionally patrol the southern side of the farm, to make sure that nothing had breached those defenses. It was routine work for them, and they were woodscrafty enough and the terrain so well-known to them that it wasn't actually all that dangerous, not if one stayed on the inside rather than venturing beyond the defenses. But it was work best performed with a partner, in case one did get into trouble, and their parents usually did this job together.

Applejack was only searching for her parents, not for monsters; all she had to do was keep reasonably alert and she should be safe enough. Her mother and father had taken her on this route before, because the Apples believed that it was best for children old enough to be trusted in terms of fundamental common sense to know the lie of the land and the layout of the defenses, in case they might have to enter this zone for any reason.

Because Applejack wasn't actually patrolling, she could move much faster than her parents. Thus it was that, after a relatively short time spent walking the path, she came upon her mother and father.

She saw her mother first, looking around them, remaining alert for danger. Her mother's light brownish-peach coat and deep red mane were easy to spot, as was the brown Stetson hat she always wore. She was compact but very muscular. Her saddlebags were stuffed with practical supplies for the Near Everfree, and a machete -- useful multi-purpose weapon and tool in the hell-forest -- dangled by her side for quick and easy access. Melanie Rose Apple looked practical, and competent, and to her daughter's prejudiced eyes also the prettiest Pony in the world. Melrose was somepony born not to complain about problems, but to quietly and unassumingly solve them.

Her father bent to the ground off the side of the path, examining some sort of traces. Tangelo Orange was longer and leaner than his wife, with a strong but wiry build that spoke of his great agility. His wife was stronger, but Tangy was faster, and though born and reared in the brick and concrete warrens of Manehattan, over the last two decades he had adapted well to life on the farm. He was almost fifty, but powerful and healthy, still in the prime of his life. Applejack thought him the most handsome stallion she had ever seen, both in his appearance and his kind intelligence: it was obvious to her why her mother loved him.

They were the most good and honorable, the best and bravest Ponies whom Applejack knew, and she utterly worshipped them. She considered herself incredibly fortunate to have parents like that. They loved her, and she loved them in return beyond all measure.

She took a quick glance around to make sure that there was nothing dangerous nearby, then called out happily to them.

"Maw! Paw!" she cried. "Ah'm so glad to see you!" She ran over to them.

"Applejack?" said Melrose in surprise. "What are you doing home so soon from school?"

"Ah had a fight with Rarity," Applejack confessed. "And Ah think Ah was in the wrong. What am Ah gonna do?"

"You can tell me all about it in a moment," Melrose said calmly. "First, Ah've gotta see what Paw's found."

"I think these were Bushbullies," Tangelo said in his unmistakable voice, with its hint of the 'th' sounds being clipped off into Sea-Pegasus 'd' sounds, a trademark Manehattan dialect for Ponies of all Kinds. He straightened and pointed. "Look at the claw marks on that tree. Territorial claim, and see those long hairs they rubbed off against the bark? A pack of them -- but then Bushbulllies always travel in packs. Well, according to the books, anyway. I haven't ever for-real seen Bushbullies in the field."

"Ah have," said Melrose. "When Ah was just a filly -- not much older than you, Jackie --" she commented in an aside to her daughter. "They're more of a bother than a real danger to Ponies bigger than little children -- Jackie here would be a bit more than they'd care to handle. Any Pony beyond foalhood can just kick them into next week. A full-grown Pony could stomp 'em, though it's kind of mean to do that, as they don't really prey on Ponies.

"They're natural vandals -- spoil crops, wreck tools, chew through ropes, that kind of mischief." Melrose continued. "Little furry things, smart for critters -- they can even talk and understand Equestrian, something-like. We just got to find them, scare them a bit, make 'em know they ain't welcome on the Acres. If'n we don't, they'll mess with the apple trees." Her voice grew grim on that last sentence. Like all the Apples of Sweet Apple Acres, Melrose took apple trees very seriously.

"I see," said Tangelo. He fussed with his blue neckerchief -- a habit of his while thinking. "Well, it doesn't sound as if we'll need any heavy weapons for this," he said. Maybe a couple of crossbows with net-bolts, capture one or two of them and give the rest a warning, then drive them all back into the Everfree. Shouldn't even need to really hurt them." With that thought, Tangelo Orange unwittingly displayed the deep decency of his species. Farmers of many another race would not have cared if they hurt destructive vermin, even talking vermin.

Melrose nodded. "Ah'm with you on that." Then she turned to look at Applejack. "All right," she asked. "What was yore fight with Rarity about?"

Applejack told her.


"Ah see," said Melrose. "Well, seems to me that you and Rarity have some makin' up to do."

"We said such terrible things to each other," said Applejack sadly, her ears drooping. "Do you think she'll want to forgive me?"

"I don't see why not," Tangelo said. "After all, you'll be apologizing to her, and it's not as if she didn't say some pretty hurtful things herself ..."

"But what she said was true," Applejack pointed out. "Ah was in the wrong."

"Well yes," replied Tangelo, "but Rarity was rude in the way that she said them. There were nicer ways she could've told you about your design mistakes."

"She shouldn't have to," Applejack said. "She was my friend, and she was just telling the truth."

"Jackie," said Melrose seriously, "Tangy and Ah are both pretty honest Ponies, wouldn't you say so?"

Applejack nodded in total agreement. "You're the best!" she exclaimed.

"Right," said Tangelo. "We always try to tell the truth, especially to our friends. One of the reasons I got out of the fruit trading business and into the production end was that I got tired of the way you have to sometimes shade the truth when dealing with suppliers and buyers, especially when you're dealing internationally. I didn't like that at all."

Applejack beamed at her Paw. He was so amazing in his integrity!

"But," Tangelo added, "You can be honest without being brutally honest, if you see what I mean? Be nice in the way you say your truths, and other Ponies will be more willing to believe you. Don't word them to hurt, unless that's the only way to get them across."

Melrose nodded. "Ah always try to be honest, but Ah also always try to be nice as well."

"That," said Tangelo, "is what Rarity did wrong. And I'm really kind of surprised she did, because she's always seemed to me to be a very polite little filly."

"Well," Applejack said. "Ah didn't really want to believe what she said. So Ah might have been maybe a bit stubborn. And gotten mad at her first."

"Oh, you might?" asked Tangelo, grinning. "Just a bit stubborn?" His eyes twinkled at his daughter.

"Yeah," admitted Applejack. "Ah was a plumb fool."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, sugarcube," said Melrose, nuzzling her daughter. "You've just got the Apple stubborn streak. Ah have it too, as yore father can perhaps tell you ..."

"Oh, perhaps," laughed Tangelo, gently bumping his wife's cheek with his own.

Melrose giggled. "... and mah mother, Granny Smith has it in spades, and Ah know her mother Great-Granny Dawnflower did too, cause without it we never would have got Sweet Apple Acres in the first place. So you see, it's not always a bad thing!"

"And maybe I'm a bit stubborn too," said Tangelo, "cause I kept after your mama until she agreed to marry me. And if I hadn't you wouldn't be here, Jackie, so being stubborn can be a definite good thing!"

All three of them laughed together.

And suddenly, Applejack realized that she was happy again. Her parents always had that effect on her. She supposed that it was because they loved each other and loved her as well, and she could never be unhappy for long when surrounded by so much love.

So they ambled along the rest of the patrol, finding signs of various tests upon the defenses and the tracks and scats and other marks of various animals, and they were a happy trio, all together, Apples to the core, even the one of them who had been born an Orange. And everything was right with the world.

Until they drew within a couple hundred hooves of the Gorge.

And they heard the screams.

And they looked at the bridge and realized that one of the two main ropes had snapped clean through, and the other one looked none too strong. The deck was dangling from the secondary ropes. And, dangling from the single remaining main rope, and undestandably screaming in stark terror, was Rarity Belle.

The three Apples exchanged a quick glance. Then, as one, with no need for any further communication, they sprang forward and galloped for the bridge.