• Published 2nd Nov 2014
  • 3,289 Views, 78 Comments

I Hate Apples - Shahrazad



If Celestia endorses Sweet Apple Acres, the Apple family can start living the good life. There’s just one little problem: Celestia… um… dislikes apples.

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And the Day Started Off so Well…

URK!

I, Princess Celestia, perhaps the most powerful and intelligent being on the planet, ruler of Equestria, the sun’s guide, solar diarch—

GLURG-URP!

—am about to projectile vomit onto one of the Elements of Harmony, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

And the day started off so well…


Squinting, I pulled the great, burning orb a little higher. The clock struck five thirty-six in the morning, and I sighed with a smirk. I’ve been a few seconds late the last few days, but not today. Nopony notices, but I do. Details like that are what make the difference between the smooth running of the state and—

“Gooooood morning, Princess! A fine day today, isn't it?”

“Discord…” I tilted my head away from the daylight. He was the only thing, besides the sun, floating in the sky. He crunched something noisily in his mouth. His chewing had a particular brick-grinding quality to it, much like his presence on my nerves. “Aren't you usually asleep at this time of day?”

He swooped out of the sky like a kite to alight on the railing of the marble balcony I stood upon. He stood on his head, literally; with a pop, he took his own cranium off and balanced on top of it, like a demented circus act. His impressive ability to perfectly balance on the polished marble didn't overshadow the fact that his mouth kept chewing... and talking.

“Why, I’ve had a wonderful night’s sleep. I did feel a bit put out, not getting a friendship throne of my very own, but your delightful sister snuck into my dreams last night and let me try it out. Having a friendship throne is fun for about five minutes, but then all those ponies showed up and wanted advice on friendship. So I turned them into giant marshmallows and ate them all! So tasty… On an unrelated note, do you know where my pillows went? I couldn't find them this morning.” He finished his little story with a flourish and a flip, despite his bulging stomach. Landing on the balcony next to me, he picked up his head and screwed it back on. I’m being literal when I say that; it even squeaked a bit near the end. “Hmm… I suppose I’ll need some grease for that. Perhaps some elbow grease? I've never heard of neck grease…”

“Discord! What do you want?” I said with an edge in my voice. I don’t like using that voice, but it’s that or the Royal Canterlot Voice, and the latter tends to make my subjects quake in fear and the guards burst into whatever room I’m in.

“Nothing,” he replied, nonchalant. “Well… maybe a few more rubies. You see, I tried a few gems that Spike enjoys. I have a bit of dragon in me, and I've never tried eating gems before,” he said, as he reached behind himself and pulled out an emerald the size of my hoof. He crunched down on it, breaking it in half. Spraying shards of emerald with every word, he said, “A bit nutty, but I like the texture. Want some?” He picked himself up by the scruff of the neck with one paw, while offering the other half of the scintillating emerald with the other, still dripping with his slobber. He floated in the air without any leverage to keep him there. He continued to float in the air after me, exactly the way bricks don’t.

I tried to keep a calm facade; I couldn't help but grimace before I replied, “No, thank you.” I could barely stomach eating meat, and here he was eating a rock. I hadn't even eaten breakfast yet, and already my stomach was turning. Keeping one eye on Discord, I trotted through my bedroom, past the four-poster bed with its snow-white canopy and the mahogany armoire, then down the hall. My golden shod hooves clicked with each step over the ancient, veined marble. The guards, stationed in regular intervals on each side of the great hall, bowed low, while Discord hovered behind me. He waved to everypony as if they were bowing for him. One of the guards gave a quiet snort when Discord waved, and smiled at me when he picked his head up. Discord glared as we continued down the hall. I felt like admonishing him, but as he continued to float above me, he accidentally ran (floated?) right into a low-hanging archway. He sat crumpled in a heap, rubbing his head, while I strode into the dining room. I couldn't help but wear a smug smile as I sank into the high-backed, red velvet chair at the end of the table. The great bronze door closed with a dull boom, blocking my view of the irritating creature. This day looked a little brighter already.

“Good morn, sister,” Luna called out with forced cheer. She sat on the other end of the long, polished, oak table. The improbable length of the table, combined with the rest of hard marble surfaces in here, made her voice echo. I smiled over the silver candlesticks set at the midpoint of the table, and without a word, moved to sit next to her. It took half a minute just to reach the other side of the dining hall. It’s useful when there’s a full gathering of ambassadors or nobles, but when it’s just me and my sister, it feels quite lonely and empty. Luna raised an eyebrow as I once again took a seat, just to her left. “Your proper seat is at the opposite head of the table,” she croaked through a sluggish mouth and bloodshot eyes.

I chuckled before I replied, “I won’t tell the others if you don’t.” I gestured to the non-existent ‘others’ at the table.

She gave me a weary smile and nodded. “We are glad you are in good spirits.”

“Rough night?” I asked. Just then, the servants’ door opened, and a grey earth pony stallion named Proper Attire trotted out with two silver chargers, covered with domes, on the cart harnessed to him. Although I would never say so, Proper Attire might be my favorite footpony. He’s always on time, as far as I can recall (and my memory goes back more than a millennium), and he usually wears a pleasant smile for me. Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day, so having Proper Attire serve me breakfast—on time—well, let’s just say the only thing that could make this day better would be a friendship report.

“Indeed, Our duties were unexpectedly difficult last night,” Luna said, as Proper set down our mystery breakfasts without breaking stride. I’m sure it made his job easier to serve the two of us at one end of the table, rather than trotting a half-mile to the far end. Luna and I are so busy we often let the royal chef decide what we eat. Like this morning, I didn't know what would be served. Judging by the aroma coming from under the lid of the charger, everything was coming up ‘Celestia’ today. “I had to fight off a half-dozen nightmares last night, two of which were Nightmare Moon. Dost thou know how passing strange it is to fight oneself?”

As Luna’s speech grew more archaic, so too did my unease. It signaled she didn't have the mental resources to speak with modern colloquialisms. “I’m sorry, Luna; did you at least win those fights and banish the nightmares?” I asked, as Proper withdrew the charger over Luna’s breakfast. Prench toast, with a confectioner’s sugar dusting and syrup; coffee, with two sugar cubes and spoonfuls of cream; half of a grapefruit, sliced along the sections and sprinkled with more sugar; and—

Luna groaned and rubbed her eyes. “Indeed, but that isn't what troubles Us. We felt drained after Our struggles and wished to see a pony with a pleasant dream, so we decided to enter the dreams of an Element of Harmony.”

My gaze tore away from her breakfast and its delightful smell. I would have a duplicate of her meal, and I couldn't help but feel my mouth water. Swallowing, I asked, “Whose dream did you look in on? Was it pleasant like you hoped?”

“I entered the dream of—“ Luna started.

“Apple tart?!” I exclaimed, as Proper withdrew the dome over my charger with a flourish. The dessert was an apple tart. It looked freshly baked, with a light dusting of cinnamon, and just the right amount of browning along the crust. I’m sure the crust would have flaked in my mouth, and the filling would have melted beside it, if I tried to eat it. The chef should have known better!

“No, her name is Applejack, We believe,” Luna answered, without missing a beat. She lifted the coffee to her lips with her hooves, not her magic, and took a sip. “Hmmm— excellent, Our compliments to the Royal Chef.”

Proper Attire’s smile went from polite to genuine. He nodded and said, “I shall tell him so. The combination of sweet and—“

“TART. APPLE. TART!” I breathed out each word like a curse, pointing an accusing hoof at the offensive dessert. Luna groaned quietly and glanced over breakfast for the first time with open eyes. Her horn lit up, and my apple tart floated off my plate, then into her mouth. She ate it in one bite, chewed, and swallowed. Proper Attire looked at us with wide eyes; his smile retreated.

With a smirk, Luna sighed and said, “One more nightmare slain.” She shooed Proper Attire away with a dismissive hoof. He nodded and bowed out, leaving through the side passage without a sound. Luna turned to me, took another sip of her coffee, and continued her story. “We fear Applejack is jealous of the other Elements. Her dreams centered on Miss Rarity’s successful fashion line when Fancypants endorsed her, and her own failure to sell her produce to the Canterlot nobles at the Gala. The dream had a green scarf, a green apple, a green dress, and green eyes.”

I leaned away from Luna until she had another sip of coffee. I took my own cup of the pungent beverage and held it in front of me, like a warding talisman. “Aren't Applejack’s eyes green already? Remind me, what’s the meaning behind the color green again?” I took a sip of the coffee and a bite of my toast. The coffee stayed near my muzzle.

“Green is representative of envy, my dear sister. Something I know a thing or two about,” Luna said, while she peered over breakfast with one open eye on me. I swallowed— this could be a touchy subject, but I needed to know if one of the Elements was about to do something rash. “In the dream, the green eyes belonged to Miss Rarity, but it’s nothing to be concerned about. The dream was unpleasant, but we believe it’s just a passing fancy.” The day was rapidly going downhill; I truly wished for—

A green flash of light flared into being just above and in front of my head. I caught the scroll that tumbled down in my aura, just before it plopped into my syrup. “Ah, a letter from Twilight. Or perhaps one of her friends?” I asked hopefully. I set down my toast and coffee; few things pleased me more than a friendship report.

“What does it say?” Luna asked as I unrolled the scroll with my magic and drank in the words. My smile started like the sunrise, but by the end of the page, that sunrise had turned to dusk.

“It seems Applejack is determined to make some headway selling her apples to the nobles here. She’s going to meet with Fancypants, I suspect with the intention of getting his endorsement. It seems you’re right, sister. I’m glad she’s taking a more constructive approach, rather than…” I let the rest remain unsaid. I heard Luna’s sigh from the other side of the letter.

“It seems we still have more to atone for,” Luna said gravely. “Should We stay awake today and take care of this?” Luna asked, as I rolled up the scroll and set it aside.

I shook my head and replied, “No, you've performed your duty. If Fancypants tries to influence me, I’m sure I can handle it.”

“He has a meeting scheduled with you today, yes?” she asked. The aroma of breakfast won out over conversation for a full minute. We both ate with gusto, stuffing down the fluffy toast along with triangles of grapefruit. Without anypony watching, we didn't care about decorum. It tasted even better than it looked.

“Yes, he’s trying to get the contract to build another ship in Fillydelphia. Something tells me he’s going to try and get the Royal Equestrian Navy to include apples with every sailor’s lunch.” I sighed, then continued, “I suppose that wouldn't be so bad. Do you think I can slip this past the media without getting called corrupt?”

“Didn't you pass a law requiring government contracts to favor small businesses? Doesn't Sweet Apple Acres qualify as a small business?” Luna asked. I smiled as she finished her coffee with closed eyes. She rarely gave much away from her expression, but I knew she felt smug. So did I; outmaneuvering the press was a special treat.

“Why, I do believe you’re right, sister. I could hardly refuse the request of Fancypants to include a small business sub-contract for food. After all, doesn't everypony deserve a chance at the government’s coffers?” I grinned as I set down the remains of breakfast and stood. Luna sighed, leaned back in her chair, and closed her eyes. “Thank you, Luna,” I said, as I nuzzled the top of her head. “I’m so glad you’re here again. I don’t know how I managed the kingdom without you.”


“And how, pray tell, are We supposed to manage that?” I asked with a quirked eyebrow. Using the royal ‘We’ sounded odd coming out of my mouth, but I didn’t know what else to do. Fancypants drove a hard bargain. “I don’t believe the kingdom can afford eight-hundred million bits for another ship.” I folded my forelegs and reclined into the throne.

I allowed the sun to slip closer to noon when Fancypants, decked out in his best black tuxedo, entered the Solar Court and flung himself into his proposal. Only the regular media ponies hovered outside the throne room doors, looking bored and taking fewer notes than usual. Luckily for me, as I detest having to explain myself. It isn’t that I can’t, it’s just bothersome having to defend every decision I make when I’m doing the best I can for everypony. Getting grilled by media ponies always makes me feel like I’m being accused of corruption or impropriety. I sighed at the thought of another article written about a misspent bit when the nation’s budget exceeded four trillion bits. Most ponies can’t even comprehend such a sum; I worked with it daily.

Sunlight filtered into the throne room through the stained-glass windows, spraying multi-colored shards of light from the east side of the room to the west. Fancypants stood on the long, plush, red carpet in between two of these kaleidoscopic segments. The golden thread at the edge of the carpet acted like a barrier to the other ponies in the room. The guards stood impassive, as always, while a skinny, teal unicorn mare, the clerk, recorded every word said by anypony present. Today, she recorded what Fancypants said, which was: “The cost of a new Cadance-class ship will cost a paltry eight-hundred million bits.”

This came as a shock, since the previous ship cost half that much. The cost of government contracts creeping up isn't news, but an extra four-hundred million bits? “I don’t think so, Mr. Fancypants. What could possibly justify a doubling of the cost of this project?”

“Well, Your Highness, the cost of labor has gone up since we constructed the last one,” he said, without breaking a sweat. Nobles usually got their way when they appealed to a populist agenda. He glanced at the clerk and asked, “You’re getting all of this, right?” She nodded. “Capital performance,” he said with a smile.

“It’s only risen by three-and-a-half percent over the last two years, according to census data,” I replied, without looking it up. Yes, I’m that good.

Fancypants straightened his tie and swallowed. “Yes, that’s true, but the cost of labor in Fillydelphia has risen significantly more than the national average.”

In a flash, I saw how I could steer the conversation into the trap he was trying to set up. “What did I say last year when we negotiated the labor contract for the shipbuilders?” I asked. I already knew the answer, but I wanted to avoid saying it out loud. The public backlash from that quote nearly drove me to tears. The pawn moved into position.

“Let them eat cake,” Fancypants replied. His eyes widened slightly as he glanced at the clerk. She continued to scribble the transcript at a lightning pace, without looking up. I took a sip of water from the crystal goblet set near the hoof rest as Fancy broke out in sweat, then smiled inwardly. Check!

“And they ARE eating cake. The shipbuilder’s union’s contract requires they eat cake every day for lunch, provided to them by government bits. Let’s not forget to mention that dental costs on the contract have risen thirty-two percent in the past year alone. Probably because they keep eating cake! Perhaps if we served something healthier in the government-provided lunches…?” I let the suggestion hang in the air. If Applejack had visited Fancypants this morning, as her letter suggested, I left him the perfect opening to slip in the sub-contract. I grinned to myself; it might be unfair, but that’s the benefit of playing both sides of the table. You win no matter what happens. Checkmate! Just a matter of time...

“Capital idea, Princess. I’ve found just the mare to provide something healthier. What could be healthier, more honest, than an apple?” he asked, as he gestured to the gold-inlaid doors at the south end of the room. “An apple a day keeps the doctor, or in this case, the dentist, away,” he sing-songed, pleased with himself. The doors burst open, and Applejack high-stepped into the room. “I’m sure you know Miss Applejack; her proposal should solve our troubles.” I played chess, while Fancy played checkers. I gulped, and watched as the game board flipped over.

Applejack’s high-stepping trot hesitated as she got closer to the throne. I don’t think she’s ever been in here by herself during open court. The skylight illuminates me from behind; the guards and architecture are all placed so that the pony sitting on the throne is the largest, most intimidating thing in sight. I’m so tall, I no longer qualify as a pony; I’m a horse, of course. Combine all of that with the raised dais, the lighting, the crown, and the guards, it’s no wonder ponies get intimidated when standing where Fancy is now. Applejack’s nose pointed almost straight up as she trotted by Fancypants. Ponies are supposed to stop at the base of the dais to speak to whichever diarch is present. Applejack took three steps up the dais before the cart she dragged behind her hit the first step and stopped. Blinking, she glanced over her shoulder, unhitched the cart, and bucked it open. It exploded into a display of apple-based treats, right next to Fancypants. He smiled and swiped an apple off of the cart. He held it up and opened his mouth to speak.

I blanched. It’s impossible to tell with my coat, but I assure you, all of the blood drained from my face. My pupils shrank to pinpricks as Applejack snatched the apple away from Fancypants and said, “Thanks, Ah got it from here, Fancy.” His eyes went wide and his mouth hung open limply; Applejack ignored him. She turned, with the shiny, red apple in hoof, and ascended the dais. Normally, the guards would violently tackle anypony who did such a thing, but Applejack isn't just anypony; she’s the Element of Honesty. My eyes flicked left and right to see the guards’ ears perk up and their eyes follow Applejack, but they made no other moves.

“Umm, Miss Applejack, it isn’t proper decorum to approach—“ Fancy started.

“Pshhh.” Applejack blew a raspberry. “Ah’ve met Princess Celestia plenty o’ times. We’re old friends.” She gave a quick bow and took off her cowpony hat, holding it to her chest, smiling at me. “Ah just didn't realize ‘til now, she’s never had a delicious Sweet Apple Acres apple. Well, Ah’m gonna fix that today,” she said, as her eyes locked right on me, “and yer gonna love ‘em so much, you’ll be willin’ ta buy enough fer them hungry stallions ‘n mares in Fillydelphia.”

I have never been close to Applejack. Don’t get me wrong, I like her. Honesty is a wonderful and important virtue. I mean to say, I have never been physically close to Applejack. This isn't an accident. Whenever Twilight and her friends have come by, I always make sure to stand a relatively safe distance from this apple farmer, because even the smell of apples is enough to make me sick. The decor in the throne room may have impressed Applejack, but I didn't, not anymore. Maybe it’s true what ponies say: ‘familiarity breeds contempt.’ “Applejack, you don’t need to—” I never finished that sentence.

Horrible, filthy, disgusting…

Apples! I could smell them. Breakfast roiled in my stomach. I tried to breathe through my open mouth so I wouldn't smell her, or the Tartarus-damned fruit she carried. I used every facial muscle I could to pinch my nose shut, when Applejack stopped right in front of me…

...and stuffed the entire apple into my mouth, with a smile.

URK!

I, Princess Celestia, perhaps the most powerful and intelligent being on the planet, ruler of Equestria, the sun’s guide, solar diarch—

GLURG-URP!

—am about to projectile vomit onto one of the Elements of Harmony, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.