Big Macintosh is a very stoic pony. His emotions are carefully guarded, and his laconic gaze somehow says everything and nothing for him.
He can be aptly summed in a single word.
“Eeyup.”
A lazy nod confirmed Applejack was indeed at home. The stallion’s face held a bland, almost apathetic expression, but ve saw the hidden gears turning behind his mask as he stood in the doorway. Quiet eyes took a measure of me most changelings take years to learn, yet they also slowly roved in careful observation of his whole environment—barn, road, pony at the door, orchard, morning weather....
I waited in awkward silence for some larger form of response. When it was clear none was forthcoming, I tentatively tried again. “M-may I speak with her?”
Another few seconds of standing in the giant’s shadow earned me a response. “Maybe.”
The stallion—one Big Mac, ve learned through a quick glance in the Hivemind—turned and strolled inside. I stood in the doorway, unsure if permission to enter had been granted or not until he stopped and turned around at the end of the hallway. He stared at me for a long, awkward moment, his eyes searching me with an unasked question, and I quickly stepped in so as not to keep him waiting.
The kitchen was small, but cozy. A simple wood stove stood in the corner with a number of pantries and cupboards surrounding it. They were all well-worn with age and just chock full of love, approaching that rare state that comes from oversaturating an item with emotions. Someday, that little stove would be a Harvester’s dream—cooking love right into the food so they wouldn’t need to rely on direct feeding as much.
On the other side of the kitchen was a small circular table laden with the most heavenly pancakes I had ever smelled. Ve placed them in the top ten, but all the other cooks who came close were long, long dead.
The Apple family and Rainbow Dash were quite sensibly inhaling the pancakes as fast as possible, and it was morbidly fascinating to watch the gusto with which they tore into their food. Both Rainbow Dash and Applejack halted abruptly as they noticed me, though, and the sticky-sweet honey in the air suddenly had a bitter aftertaste.
“What’s somepony like you doing here?” The farmer’s eyebrow arched.
That was the cue for the rest of the Apple Family to stop, and I could feel the weight of Big Mac’s gaze increase at his sister’s tone. I had to lock my plates in to stop myself from squirming at the extra attention.
What was the point of a Pinkie Promise if she was going to act like that? Ve didn’t care how binding Twilight claimed they were. In the end it was just words between friends. It’s not like there would be any long lasting consequences.
“You could lose a friend for-EVER! Ever… Ever… Ever… Cookie… Ever…” An explosion of cotton candy colored fur shot out of the oven as Pinkie’s tracer from the day before suddenly jumped from several miles in town to right next to me. I barely had time to react to the Pink Menace before she was gone, diving back into the oven as she mumbled something about needing to fix her echo again.
“By the Azure Veil.” My mask slipped for a moment. Earth ponies do not teleport. This was a fact. This was a very important fact, and ve repeated it to ourself over and over in a desperate attempt to quell my racing heart.
“Applejack…?”
I was broken from my inner mantra by Big Mac’s inquiry.
“Don’t you worry about it none, Big Mac. Ah’ll tell ya if Ah need to, Pinkie Promise or not, but not until Ah need to.” Applejack waved him back to the table before returning to glaring at me. “So, care to explain why your here?”
Ve suppressed the urge to shrink back, weighing our words until ve were sure ve wouldn’t stutter. “There’s not much to say. I heard your little bet with Rainbow last night while we were all at Twilight’s.”
Orange juice dominated the emotional smorgasbord coming from the rest of the Apple family, and I savored their fresh curiosity at our response. Curiosity was always a favorite of mine, and a nibble here or there wouldn’t do anything more than make the rest of the family find the conversation less interesting.That would be a convenient bonus.
Ve gestured to myself. “I admit I may not look as hale and hearty as the average Ponyvillian, but I assure you I could at least last a day on the farm.”
That was a loaded sentence if there ever was one. Ve had kept my tone measured and cultured—a clear sign of high society and upbringing. Combine that with the slightest upturning of the snout, and to the rest of the family we were the picture of a standard Canterlot snob who didn’t know any better.
To Rainbow and Applejack, however, it was a clear challenge. They knew I wasn’t just some random Canterlot noble. Ve could already taste the flickering flames of righteous anger. They were hot and spicy, yet only small embers amidst kindling.
“How about we turn that bet from a two-way street to a three-way?”
That fanned the Elements’ anger from embers into sparks, but that was exactly what ve needed. The funny thing about anger—about all emotions really—is how interconnected it is. Context is just as important to the one feeling the emotion as it is to the one reading it.
A little push in the right direction and joy can become anger.
Anger can become fear.
Fear can become loathing.
And loathing had put all of us on the precipice of extinction.
I wasn’t following in the footsteps of Mother or the rest of the Hive, though. Spitting into my hoof, I held it out. “What say you to starting fresh? I make it through a day on the farm, and you give me a fair shot instead of the cold shoulder.”
That got the desired result. Latent fury transformed into a healthy competitive drive. The sensation of flames on my metaphorical tongue was cooler yet with a long lasting spicy aftertaste. Bitterness still abounded, but a tempered flame was better than the uncontrolled firestorm from yesterday. They weren’t ones to turn down a chance to crush a potential rival no matter who he was, and that was going to be our way in.
The family matron—Granny Smith her file claimed—chuckled. “And you had me worried that some highfalutin’ fellow was putting the moves on our little Twilight with how you were ranting yesterday. Mighty strange, though, Ah thought you were a pink pegasus….”
Thankfully a green blush can also be mistaken as nausea. Ve really needed to remember to shift blood color.
“Snow Flurry and I are what you might call distant family. We’re so far removed from Twilight as to not actually be related, but we are family none the less.”
It was a technicality, but, even if one had to trace it all the way back to the primordial sludge from which life began, it was true. Applejack still frowned, though. At least she didn’t say anything.
Granny Smith cackled. “Ah see. Nice to see some city folks take family as important as any Apple. It don’t matter how far removed you are. Kin is kin.”
Ve wisely kept my mouth shut on the Canterlot nobles and their obsession with genealogy and bloodlines.
Rainbow stood up. “You know, I should really get going. I can get my work done in ten seconds flat and be back to help.”
Her smile was forced for the most part, but it briefly flickered into the genuine thing as she plucked a feather from her wing and stuck it in Applejack’s mane.
I internally smiled at the surge of honey in the air. It seemed my little mistake was healing quickly with no lasting damage—for them that is. The acrid emotions cutting into my heart were all ve needed to know what the couple thought of me.
As Rainbow left, ve continued to stand there with my hoof covered in my own spit.
After a few moments of us stubbornly staring at one another, Applejack snorted at and got up to meet me. “Alright, you’re on, but we’re doing honest to goodness applebucking. Don’t think you can get away with doing the easy chores.”
Saliva covered hoof met saliva covered hoof, and I allowed my fangs to show through in a grin only Applejack could see. Applejack and Rainbow Dash weren’t the only ones who enjoyed a challenge, after all.
Ve closed our eyes to get a better feel for the tree. Drawing together a pool of my limited earth pony magic, I stopped as I felt the tingle that was the contract’s warning. Taking deep breaths ve sent the magic out in waves. With each exhale it traveled down my hooves and pulsed outward, barely reaching the tree in front of us. With each inhale, the magic returned, rising back up my hooves back to the core of my being.
Each pulse fed us an incredible amount of information upon return—an overwhelming amount for those who didn’t practice regularly. Everything the wave interacted with changed its shape in some minute way. Applejack, the barrels beneath the tree, even every blade of grass. Only by sorting through all those changes could ve isolate those of the tree.
As ve readjusted to the influx of new information, our breathing normalized. Tremor sense was not a magical muscle I flexed often, and ve were starting to think that was a mistake on my part.
Ve were dealing with a crop of Twenty Ouncers, clearly chosen for their incredible weight. As the name implied, they were commonly more than a pound apiece. Ve wouldn’t last a day hauling those back to the barn. However, with careful study ve could potentially do the applebucking, if not the heavy lifting involved in carting the apples to storage.
“Standing there ain’t gonna buck any apples, partner.” Applejack’s drawl washed over me but didn’t break our concentration.
Ve ignored her and walked down the first row of the orchard. A larger sample size was needed to determine the general area of the antinode—that unique sweet spot guaranteed to resonate fully with a pony’s buck.
All the trees in the row were in relatively equal health. Their growth rate and general structure were similar enough. The same amount of love had been poured into raising them, and an even amount of magic had encouraged their growth. There were no favorites nor outliers I could see.
That was good. Less disparity meant it was safer to work under the assumption that there actually was a general area I could narrow my search down to for future trees. Individual differences did occur – as was bound to happen – but there seemed to be enough commonality for us to focus on an area slightly to the left of the center of each tree’s trunk.
That was where ve needed to strike.
Ve’d need to correct on a case by case basis, of course, but quick small pulses were perfect for such a job. Ve needed accuracy here, not a general acre-wide awareness.
Applejack stomped a hoof in impatience, and I felt the incredible wellspring of her magic radiate into the earth and up my legs. It was like watching a live volcano with my tremor sense.
Unlike my own carefully controlled and conserved stock of earth pony magic, hers kept pouring into the planet causing the plants near her to flare with life – whether she knew it or not. As her magic settled and cooled, it built up on herself and everything around her. The entire farm was nurtured and protected from the run off, while Applejack herself was a towering mountain of strength and heartiness years in the making.
Meanwhile, I was stuck with my pitiful oscillating rhythm in what was clearly a one sided competition. Not that I needed to keep up with Applejack to win the bet, but earning any sort of respect from her would help.
Perhaps… perhaps a demonstration was needed to tip circumstances in our favor.
Holding out a hoof, I shushed Applejack’s newest wave of complaints. “Be quiet and let me concentrate. You’ve been working these fields all your life. It’s only fair I get a feel for them myself.”
Setting a hoof on each tree as I walked back along the row, ve narrowed the general area I needed to focus on further, picking out each resonant point for this row in particular. Reaching the end of the row, I kept my eyes closed and said one word.
“Watch.”
Ve started the simulation ve’d prepared, and matched my body’s movements to the ones our simulation drew out upon our mental map of the row.
I turned, kicking the first tree in the spot our calculations claimed was best. Fruit rained into the baskets, but I couldn’t stay to check for completion. It would ruin the illusion if I stopped to wait for the apples to fall. Sprinting from tree to tree I repeated the process without giving a thought to the trees behind or the farmer watching. At every tree another pulse allowed me to quickly correct for the physical error between my performance and our simulation. Only when I reached the final tree in the row did I pause to catch my breath.
And stunned silence met my ears.
Turning, I opened my eyes to view my hoofwork. It was acceptable. There were clearly a few minor errors, but error was to be expected. Most of the fruit was out of this particular row, and I paused on my way back to Applejack to knock the last few fruits free wherever I’d made a mistake. The farmer and Rainbow Dash—who I hadn’t seen arrive—were staring slack jawed at me.
“Well Ah’ll be darned,” said Applejack. “Ah sure as hay wasn’t expecting that.” She sheepishly rubbed the back of her head, and I shrugged.
“That’s what I can do when I have time to prepare. I can clear the rest of the field without issue, but only if I don’t have to lug the apples back and forth.” I wriggled my rather thin limbs at them self-deprecatingly. “I’m not exactly strong. I just know where to buck.”
“Bull.” Rainbow snorted after finally composing herself. “That had to have been a fluke.”
I shrugged again. Applebucking wasn’t exactly her chosen profession. “It wasn’t a fluke, but if you want proof, I can teach Applejack efficiency as well as power.”
The result would be massive overkill, of course, but there were consequences to willfully ignoring the facts. This was something Rainbow seemed ignorant of, and the easiest way to relieve said ignorance was to show those consequences—in controlled conditions, of course.
I shook my head. “It shouldn’t be hard too hard. I’ll need to see how you applebuck a few trees first, and then I’ll need to examine the target tree of your choice.”
Applejack hummed. “That sounds fair to me. What do you think Rainbow?”
Rainbow looked at Applejack like she had grown a second head.
Applejack cocked an eyebrow at the pegasus. “Don’t be like that, sugarcube. We’ve seen he could handle the applebucking, and it took a heap of humble pie to honestly admit he couldn’t handle the heavy lifting.”
The arch turned its gaze upon me, taking on a much more imposing light. “Even if it was just him puttin’ a bow on a rattlesnake and tryin’ to call it pretty.” She looked back to Rainbow as I squirmed. “Ah’m not saying we trust him, but we need to give him an actual chance like we promised Twi. You can’t say that’s what we were planning on doing, can you? Ah know Ah sure as hay can’t, and it ain’t right to hold him to a standard he can’t meet.”
Rainbow silently glowered at me, and the extra rush of bitterness was so sudden ve couldn’t process the context. All ve could get a read on was that it wasn’t Rainbow’s standard distrust. It was… itchy….
“Fine….” She sulked.
Watching Applejack proved very educational us. The archives were surprisingly lackluster in their coverage of the traditional bucking techniques with how impractical they were for changelings, so I needed to watch a whole extra row of the orchard to observe Applejack’s technique enough for the demonstration.
All with Rainbow Dash almost-but-not-quite breathing down my neck the entire time.
The pegasus was hovering a little behind me, and ve could literally feel the glare causing an itch on the back of my head. Ve still weren’t getting enough context to identify it, but ve weren’t going to risk lowering the filter to get any more.
“Alright, that’s enough,” ve declared, as Applejack bucked one last tree. Moving to the next row, ve set my hoof on the trunk and released a quick pulse to find what ve needed. Running some calculations in our head, ve pointed to a particular point on the ground.
“Stand there.”
“No, one step to the left.”
“That’s a little too far. Go back to the right.”
“Now take a step forward.”
“Perfect! Now buck straight backwards with all your strength!”
There was the crunch of splinters, and half of the tree quickly began its first and only flight lesson.
“Big Bertha!” Applejack wailed, running up to the stump that was left behind.
I winced at all the wine and whiskey splashing through the air from her. “Wasn’t expecting that. Ve— I mean, I didn’t think the results would be so irreversible. I should have considered that an earth pony might need to hold back their strength.”
I sheepishly scratched the back of my head. My carapace was still itchy from all of Rainbow’s glaring. “I don’t suppose either of you would be willing to accept an apology, would you? I’d rather not do another demonstration. At this point, action seems to be saying all the wrong things.”
Rainbow said nothing as she continued to glower at me. She was definitely trying to, though. I could hear the beginning and end of various sounds trying to form a coherent sentence, but it seemed she was incapable of expressing her current level of loathing.
