Love Letters Written on the Back of a Star Chart

by Dawn Stripes

The Stubborn and the Persistent (part 1)

Applejack sat up in bed when morning first poured over the hills like banana bread fresh from the oven. It took one swift motion to kick down the covers and roll onto her hooves.

Her morning routine was short. Normally she would brush her teeth, splash the rest of the washbasin’s contents on her face, and tap on set of thick three-nail horseshoes—the kind a pony needed for kicking trees all day. If she was feeling unusually self-conscious, she might drag a couple snags out of her mane with an old comb. Snap on a hair tie, grab her hat from the bedpost, and she was ready to face the day before the rooster roused his lazy self.

But on this particular morning, there was no rousing cock-a-doodle-doo to meet her as she opened the door. Instead there was an ear-splitting twang. Applejack’s ears went criss-cross.

She took a deep breath before deliberately stepping back to her bedroom window. At first, she couldn’t see the source of the awful sound. It was barely light out! Since when had he taken to showing up this early? For that matter, how? Those Gate contraptions didn’t even fire up until eight o’clock. Or had that part of the world changed on her while she wasn’t looking, just like everything else?

There was a human sitting on her front lawn. He was underneath the wild tree whose branches always had to be pruned away from the porch. His topmost guitar string had snapped—Applejack could see the wire curlicue even from the second story of the house. But as luck would have it, he’d brought a spare. He was patiently re-tuning the instrument now, which at least provided a short respite from any actual music. Applejack got all her glaring done, and then ducked back inside before she ran that risk that he would catch her looking in his general direction.

She tried to fumble her way down the stairs as if it were any other day. The walls of the old Apple home were sufficiently thick that she could manage, with just a bit of willpower, to pretend that the human’s strumming was only part of the daily floorboard-creaking. She lit the stove from last night’s embers, grabbed an apron, and had hay pancakes steaming in no time. The hay bin was running low, but Applejack managed to buck old habits and emptied the whole thing into her mixing bowl. There was another block in the barn loft.

Applebloom followed her nose downstairs around the time her older sister was setting the table. At the filly’s little yawn, Applejack couldn’t help but crack open a smile. Dawn was finally getting in under the eaves, making the dining room light enough to walk around in, but AJ lit a couple candles anyway just to make extra-sure that Applebloom wouldn’t trip.

“G’morning, darlin’.” She shuffled a wooden plate in front of Applebloom with two pancakes, taking the opportunity to sneak her sister a nuzzle and a kiss.

“Mornin’, sis,” Applebloom said sleepily. AJ sat back and watched her eat for a short quiet, idly pouring a second batch onto the tiny stove. She savored sleepy pride. When she regularly busted her flank for a season growing apples that would be ruined by one early frost from the Everfree, it was the little things she appreciated most. Like a sister burying her muzzle in a home-cooked meal. When Ma and Pa passed on, Applejack had been so scared for little Bloom. But here she was: safe, happy, and waking up to a hot breakfast, thanks to her big sister Applejack.

Then Applebloom had to go and ruin the fuzzy feelings by pricking her ears, and then fixing her sister with that curious grin Applejack knew too well. “Hey! When I grow up, will I have a coltfriend to sit outside my window and sing about me too?”

Applejack didn’t get a chance to answer before Granny Smith stirred from her rocking chair in the dark corner of the fireplace room. “Why, of course, dear!” she whinnied, stretched, and then began to nod again as if she’d woken up only to answer the question.

Nopony could see Applejack’s ear twitch in the melty morning shadows. She made a point of focusing on breakfast. Once the cooking was done, however, and everypony’s mouths were full, she couldn’t help but hear the resumed twanging outside—and even worse, make out some of the lyrics. He was singing something about frogs in a hollow somewhere. It made no sense. But Applejack tried to tell herself that it could have been worse. At least he’d eventually moved on from songs about apples.

Granny was the first one finished eating. She usually didn’t put down more than half a pancake, though when Applejack was in a better mood she would coax and nuzzle her into taking a whole one. Today, Granny Smith trotted a barely-dirtied dish over to the sink and Applejack chewed while staring straight ahead with cow-glazed eyes.

“Land sakes, Applejack!” said her grandmother. “You have a visitor! Aren’t you goin’ to go say hello?”

Applejack buried her head closer to her plate. “I’m a mite busy, Granny. Maybe in a minute.”

She did no such thing. Once Applejack had cleaned up, she snuck out the back door to the shed with the leftover pancakes. Big Macontish was there, just coming in from his pre-dawn rounds. There were bags under his eyes; he’d probably slept out there on his hooves last night, because he liked to think that he could go for days without proper sleep and never slow down. Applejack made a mental note to take a trowel and straighten any of the furrows he plowed today. Then she traded the pancakes for his help getting a yoke on her back and loading it up with empty apple baskets.

The only time she had to pass the human was when she was going out to field. It was the east orchard that needed her right now, and the shortest route took her right down the path in front of the house. She could have made a far loop around the hills if she’d wanted to avoid him completely, but she refused to let the human disrupt her day. She marched right past as he was finishing up his song about the frogs

“Good morning, Applejack!” he called out in a voice like amber. “Your mane looks wonderful today!”

Applejack hurried on without looking his way. She maintained that her mane was so long because she didn’t fuss over it enough to cut it frequently—never mind that it took longer to wash a long mane, or that flowing manes were the stylish look among the mares in Ponyville.

She could feel the human waving from behind her. “You have a wonderful morning, AJ!” he said, as cheerily as if she hadn’t ignored him.

There was nothing to be done about it. She certainly wasn’t going to be the rude one and ask him to leave. Sweet Apple Acres had always made hospitality a point of pride. The gates were open to anyone who wanted to visit, even that city slicker Trenderhoof. And if she was going to be honest—which she was—Trenderhoof had been a lot more annoying, even if he had only lasted for a few days. Applejack never did suss out if he was a racist or if he’d honestly never seen an earth pony before.

Elliot was a polite human, she couldn’t deny that. Too polite. He always asked permission before putting his feet on the family soil—which was a sight more respectful than Rainbow Dash, and, for that matter, any pegasus. Somehow he seemed to have a sense of what land meant to an earth pony. From the way he wandered around barefoot all the time, Applejack even wondered if he wasn’t trying to feel it sing, as if he thought he was an earth pony himself. And he usually bought a couple apples. You had to appreciate that.

When they first met Elliot had struck her as a decent sort. In fact, she’d rather liked the fellow. They’d gotten to be friends. Back when there were only a few humans in Ponyville, running around like foals in a candy store, it had all been kind of charming. The way they gushed over her pies was so flattering and at the same time so utterly ridiculous that she couldn’t help but laugh.

Charming. Sure—right until Elliot got up out of the blue and announced that he was in love. Why did folks always have to go ruining perfectly good friendships that way?

It wouldn’t have been the first time this had happened to Applejack. Normally it would have been dealt with efficiently. Applejack had always been able to keep away Big Mac’s unwanted suitors, and since she seemed to have a knack for attracting pushy males, he’d always returned the favor. They didn’t have to say a word for each other to understand when a little nudge was needed. Never even had to make a sign.

But this one. Of all stallions, Elliot had to be the clever one. He’d come to Granny almost before Applejack and asked permission to ‘court’ her, with a bushel of walnuts under one arm and six friends in bow ties testifying to his character. Seeds, saddles, flowerpots full of dirt from Ohio—the whole nine yards. Where in Tartarus he even found out about such old earth-clan traditions was beyond Applejack. But that’s when things had gotten sticky. Because Granny got involved.

Now, she’d always had odd spells, but usually they only lasted a few weeks. She’d bug Applejack about how she was ‘getting to that age’ and kept asking if she’d ‘found a nice stallion’. As if they still lived in a decade where ponies married at her age. Applejack wasn’t worried about turning into an old spinster, but when Granny got it into her head there was no reasoning with her. And apparently this interloper now qualified as a ‘nice stallion’. Of all the meddlesome ways!

Big Mac’s hooves were tied. He wouldn’t go against Granny for anything in the world. So it was up to Applejack to make the human give up. She took meticulous care to avoid giving him the time of day. If he wanted to set himself under that hickory, he could very well stay there. Applejack would go take care of the day’s chores, thank you very much.

By this point, as far as Applejack was concerned, Elliot could drown when it rained and starve when it shone—but everypony else always fed him. She’d caught Applebloom sneaking out of the house with pie and sitting at his feet to ask for stories about Earth. That had worried Applejack just a bit. But after chewing it over for a while she’d let it go. Hadn’t she been just as curious about the wide world when she was that age? She’d run off to Manehatten, and that was as far as a body could go at the time. As long as Applebloom didn’t gallop off to Timbuktu, she’d be alright. Applejack had to admit that Elliot wouldn’t steer her sister wrong.

Sure, it was sad that she didn’t talk to Elliot anymore. It wasn’t like she wanted things to be this way. But he simply refused to get the message. Nothing seemed to discourage him. Each and every day it grew harder to believe. Elliot must have been out here for almost a month now. Any sane stallion would have gone through three infatuations by now. Didn’t he have a job? Was there just something off about humans?

Might’ve been. According to Dash, all the girls had hordes of fans just like him on Earth. But aside from the diplomatic trip they might have to make as the Elements of Harmony, Applejack never thought about that. She didn’t care. The humans who came by kept fussing over it and wringing their hands—Elliot excepted, of course—but Applejack just rolled her eyes. She didn’t care two bits and a carrot stick what a bunch of folks on some far away world thought about an imaginary version of her.

Well…she hadn’t until one of them started hanging around.

One pair of apple baskets wasn’t hardly anything, so Applejack filled up her yoke in no time. That done, she went down a couple of the largest rows in the orchard, turning over leaves to look for spots that might mark disease or unwanted critters. She also grabbed a water pail and splashed a few gallons from the river on any tree that looked thirsty. The weatherponies had done a spotty job last time they sent a miniature cloudburst this way. As much as Applejack would have liked to blame Rainbow Dash, she knew that the Central Weather Commission just hadn’t given Ponyville as much water vapor to work with this year. The Apple clan didn’t really have a voice in Canterlot anymore, so it was at the mercy of the government for rain. A less proud Apple might have gone begging at the palace, using the Element of Honesty as clout to plead for more water. Applejack made up the difference with sweat and elbow grease.

Elliot showed up again after lunch. Applejack sniffed him a mile off, since he came from upwind. But she decided that, as always, there was nothing to do about it. She got on with her watering, so that when he caught up she was occupied enough to ignore him. He took one look around and went straight for the apple baskets.

Applejack went on watering, only keeping a watch out of the corner of her eye. Elliot wrapped his arms around one full basket and tried to lift it while she quietly snickered.

He collapsed against the rim, huffing. “A…Applejack! This looks like a lot of work. Can I help you buck these apples?”

“Y’all’d just hurt yourself, Elliot.” Applejack nosed her way under with the yoke, lifting both baskets with a barely noticeable grunt. Elliot was pushed aside as the basket rose into the air.

“Whatever you say.” He fell into step behind her, as if, like Winona, he didn’t think twice about following wherever she went. Which was a shame. Applejack was only bringing these apples in on the hope of ditching him. If she’d been serious about harvesting she would have brought a wagon.

“Maybe I can help with some of the other chores, then,” he said. “The pigs still need feeding today, don’t they? I can take care of that.”

Applejack tossed the words over her yoke. “No thanks, Elliot. Patsy likes her slop just so. You don’t know how to mix it.”

“Okay.” He followed her up the lane with his hands behind his head. “I could sort these apples if you want. Applebloom showed me how, so I’m pretty sure I could do it.”

“That’s Applebloom’s chore,” she said a little more darkly. “She needs to learn to handle her own responsibilities, so no thank you.”

“What about the back fence? It’s been sitting unpainted for a week since the last windstorm. I painted houses for a whole summer back on Earth, so I know I could help with that.”

Applejack swayed in front of the barn doors, searching for an excuse for several moments. “Elliot. Thank you. But no. I don’t need your help. That’s all.”

Elliot looked into her eyes, sighed—his shoulders drooped just little. Then, to Applejack’s surprise, he put his dopey smile back on. The smile like sunny-side up eggs. “Okay. Can I stay on the lawn and sing for you?”

It was Applejack’s turn to sigh. “Y’all can sing to your heart’s content.” And she swished her tail dismissively as she entered the barn to look for a brush and paint.

Elliot launched into his next song when she was on her way out. Applejack tried not to listen, since Granny Smith was sitting on the porch. But it had the phrases ‘fair lady’ and ‘glowing mane’ in it, so she still had to duck her head and scurry to get away without letting anyone see her blush.

Comments

[Ignaltus]

Cool art.

[Frazzled Pony]

That is the stupidest way I have ever seen anyone handle an unwanted admirer. The only way that makes sense is if AJ doesn't truly mind, because otherwise, she should tell him to get lost. Their friendship is apparently already ruined, so there's no "don't want to ruin friendship" or awkward "not sure if I'm misreading signs.