2. Bit by Bit
Bit By Bit
The usual damn song wren woke up Macintosh before dawn, and his shuffling nudged Octavia out of a comfortable sleep. Macintosh yawned and nuzzled his nose into Octavia’s mane. She sighed into his neck and wrapped her forelegs around him. Living so far away from his farm meant that he had to get up hours before the sun rose, practically the middle of the night, just to get all his work done and come back in time to prepare breakfast. He talked often of how much easier things would be once he built his homestead on the land.
Macintosh pulled away, and Octavia pulled him back. His resistance broke with the slightest pull. She always won these little tugs of war. Whether because he went easy on her or because he couldn’t help but get closer to her, she didn’t know. She hoped for the latter. Octavia pulled his head into her chest and clamped his sides with her back legs.
“No,” Octavia mumbled, still half-asleep.
“Sugar, we go through this every morning,” Macintosh whispered into her neck, and his heated breath made an enticing shiver caress her back. “Either I stay until morning, and you go without breakfast and lunch and I gotta pour concrete for the homestead’s foundation in the sun, or I go now and you wake up to a nice breakfast in bed. Ain’t a hard choice to make.”
“I care only for the present, Macintosh, and presently I’m freezing my flanks off, and I need you to heat them up for me.” Octavia placed her hooves on top of Mac’s head and pushed gently. “With your breath. Besides, we don’t have any food.”
Macintosh helped roll her on her back. “So? I’ll just go get groceries.”
Octavia wrapped her legs around his neck. “Unless you’re going to steal them, don’t bother. We don’t have any money.”
Mac’s eyes widened and he lifted up his head, dragging Octavia down the bed along with him. “What? Completely out?”
“Spent the last few bits paying this month’s bills. We won’t have more until you get paid again,” Octavia explained, her voice sharpening into an annoyed edge. This was exactly why she didn’t like giving up control in the bedroom. “Macintosh, your empress is getting impatient.”
“Octavia, this is a big deal,” Macintosh said, his voice still not muffled by her thighs. “I don’t get paid for another month, and the stipend I get ain’t even close to paying off all our bills, especially not for this apartment.”
“Macintosh, what did you expect?” Octavia said with a roll of her eyes. “I told you that without money coming in from playing venues, our financial situation would be a bit...strained. I even tried to spare you of it. But no, you decided to stay Mister ‘you’re stuck with me’.”
“Sugar, no matter what, I’m gonna stay with ya, but I honestly thought you had more bits saved up. Heck, I thought my savings would last us a little longer.” He ran a hoof through his short, soft mane. “We gotta think about what to do.”
“Macintosh, don’t trouble your cute, little freckles about it,” Octavia said. She hooked a leg around his neck and pulled him back to her. “I know you tend to worry, but there’s no reason to. I’ve survived worse, you’ve survived worse. We’ll be fine. I’ll think of something.”
“I...I guess,” Macintosh said, his head turning. He gazed at the door for a long second. “I...gotta get to work.” He unhooked his neck and silently stumbled to the door. “I’ll, uh, see you later, okay?”
“Macintosh?” Octavia called to him. He closed the door behind him without a sound. Octavia stared at the door with a scowl. She rolled over on her stomach and growled into her pillow. She fumbled in the dark for her nightstand and opened its drawer.
-*-
He didn’t return at breakfast, although she did find a stack of pancakes waiting for her on the dining table. Where he found the ingredients, she had no idea. A little note from Macintosh only told her that he would be back by sunset, and he had prepared her dinner as well. Octavia crumpled up the note and threw it away. She sliced into her pancakes and began to eat. She left one pancake uneaten purely out of spite, and she decided she would do the same with her dinner as well.
To think that Macintosh would leave her alone and able to walk. It just wasn’t done. It was a good thing he would be out until that night, Octavia didn’t know what she would do to him when he stepped through the front door. She wanted to yell in his face, she wanted to tackle him to the ground, she wanted to tie him to the bed and make him regret ever walking out on a bedroom tussle with her.
She sighed and slid the plate of pancakes away. Maybe, just maybe, her unsatisfied libido was making her overreact. After all, Macintosh went to work on his farm. If the situation were reversed, and if she had decided to practice her cello, Macintosh would have understood. Still, this was the first time he had left her high and dry. Usually, he would be more than happy to oblige. Octavia tried to push the train of thought out of mind, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t the type to just let things go, especially when it came to ponies she actually kind of cared about. Octavia shook her head. She needed to practice.
It festered in her—the questions, the rejection, the base desire—as she played her cello. She couldn’t keep her notes steady, and her strokes became harsher and faster the longer she played. A couple of bow strings snapped. Octavia stopped. She undid the broken strings and replaced them with strands from her own tail. She took a deep breath and tried her best to calm down. It worked, for about a second. Once she put bow to strings, all her emotions came thrusting to the fore.
She tried and tried for hours until the sun finally set. Her playing didn’t get any better. If anything, it became much worse. She couldn’t get into her ideal state of mind. Usually everything around her would fade away until she was no longer consciously playing, but these feelings and thoughts would not disappear into the background. As the sun tipped into the horizon, setting her bedroom aflame with orange light, Octavia plunked her cello back onto its stand with no progress made.
She went back to the kitchen, and ate the soup, salad, and pasta Mac had made for dinner. Once she ate all but a few bites, she set them aside with the unfinished pancakes. She looked at the front door, and slid the plates so that they would be the first thing Macintosh saw when he walked in.
Octavia waited. She waited the same way ponies waited to board commercial sky yachts. Hours passed, and Octavia’s eyelids grew heavier. Where the hell was he? She rested her head on her foreleg upon the dining table, determined to only rest for a moment or two.
When she woke up, Macintosh had her on his back, heading for the bedroom. She buried her nose in his mane. It smelled of sweat and sawdust. Strange, wasn’t he pouring concrete today? Octavia’s eyes snapped open. Wait, what time was it? He was supposed to be back hours ago. She took his mane in her teeth and pulled back in an attempt to get him to stop, but he didn’t.
“Just a few more steps, sugar,” Macintosh said with a smile. “Then I’ll make up for this morning, I promise.”
Octavia rolled her eyes and hopped off his back. Macintosh stopped and turned to her, eyebrow raised.
“I don’t care about that,” Octavia said. “No, that’s a lie. I care very much about that, but that is not what this is about. What is going on today? You never leave when I want you, and when you do leave in the morning you always come back before breakfast, not in the middle of the night.”
Macintosh rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. “Aw well, I was gonna tell ya tomorrow mornin’, but I guess since you asked...I...This morning when I left I went out looking for a job.”
“What?” Octavia said through gritted teeth.
“Eeyup, walked around and found a construction site. Asked if there was any work and the foreman took one look at me and gave me a shot. Nothing too fancy. I just push stuff, lift stuff, put it back down, that sorta thing.” His smile widened into a grin. “I figured it all out, Octi. I’ll put the homestead on hold, ‘cause it ain’t like we got the money to build it anyway, and if I work the same hours I did today, taking every other Sunday off, and combine that with the stipend from the royal palace, we’ll have just enough to pay our bills and buy groceries. Things’ll be a little tight for a while, but we’ll be okay. It’ll be fine.”
Octavia tensed and looked at Macintosh, really looked at him. There were bags beneath his sunken eyes. His shoulders slumped with fatigue. No, not just his shoulders. It looked as if his whole body buckled beneath a heavy weight. And yet he looked so happy, so damn proud of himself. Why?
“No, absolutely not,” Octavia said. She struggled to keep her voice quiet and steady, but a tremor sneaked out of her lips. “You are to quit that job tomorrow, and you are not to worry about our financial situation any longer. I’ll be the one to worry about it.”
Macintosh’s face fell. “But, sugar, if I don’t do this, then what’re we gonna do?”
“I’ll play on the streets again. It’ll be good practice.”
“We both know that ain’t gonna be enough,” Macintosh said, taking a step forward. “I can do this, Octi. I know I can.”
“I know you know you can,” Octavia snapped. “Just because you know you can do something doesn’t mean you should. What you should be doing is working on your farm and tending to my every need. That means providing me with good food, good sex, and good banter.” She rubbed her aching temple and tried to think of what to do. Damn it, but he was right. Even if her pride would let her go back to busking, it would hardly be enough to afford the most meager apartment in Canterlot. “There has to be something else.”
“You know, if we can’t afford the apartment, then maybe we should...give it up,” Macintosh whispered.
Octavia hissed in a breath. “We...can’t.”
“Why not? Does it mean that much to ya?”
“Other than a symbol of status? Not really,” Octavia said. “But this apartment was made by renovating several condos together. It cost me a pretty bit, lots of them. As a result, well, this apartment is so upside down that it would take a very gullible sucker to pay what I put in.”
Macintosh smiled. “That’s not so big of a deal. We’ll get a good amount for it and set up payments for what’s left.”
Octavia shook her head. “Even if we do, unless we get a very good offer, or negotiate a very low payment, there’s no way we could afford a lease or a mortgage along with servicing the debt. We would still be homeless with nothing but a debt payment to keep us warm.”
“Well,” Macintosh drew out the word and added an upward lilt, earning him a suspicious gaze. “We could, and it’d just be until we get our hooves under us mind ya, move in with my family. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind none.”
Octavia’s heart stopped beating for a quick second. Spending an indeterminate amount of time amongst Macintosh’s meddlesome family did not seem like a wonderful time. Just the thought of dealing with his obnoxious sister, not to mention all of his friends still in Ponyville, sent her spine into shivers. But if it would keep Macintosh from working himself to death, then she would gladly deal with all of them.
“Fine,” Octavia said. “Send a letter, or whatever you have to do to arrange it. The sooner we move out the sooner we can count on three square meals a day.” His grin was much too wide for her liking, as if completely unaware of her impending misery. Even so, she liked this smile a lot more than the previous one. She shook her head with a little smirk of her own. She was getting much too soft. Octavia widened her eyes as Macintosh pressed his lips against hers, but she settled into the kiss and closed her eyes to fully enjoy it. It ended much too soon.
“Thanks sugar, I know you ain’t too fond of ‘em, but they absolutely love ya.”
Octavia choked back a laugh, she could name at least one Apple that absolutely hated her guts. “Yes, well, now that that’s all settled, go take a shower and get some sleep. I know you’re too tired for any hip cuddling tonight, so I expect you to put in extra effort in the morning.”
Macintosh chuckled. “I will.”
And he did.
-*-
It was strange to stand upon such a lush and fertile farm whose very existence would not be possible without the stallion beside her. As Octavia walked beneath the brown, red, and yellow leaves of the apple trees of Sweet Apple Acres, she felt a small kindling of anger flicker in her gut. She tried to douse it, reminding herself how much Macintosh’s family meant to him. Right now, she just needed to figure out how much scorn she could freely show. The Apple family were opening their home to them. If the situation were reversed, she would be the first to slam the door in their faces. Octavia supposed she should be grateful. Perhaps she could hold back for a day or two.
Octavia tugged at her cello case’s strap across her chest. The farmstead, a wooden home large enough to house several ponies, came into view. The setting sun hid behind the building, giving the house a warm glow that belied what waited for Octavia inside. Macintosh sped up his pace as soon as he saw his old home; Octavia slowed down. When Macintosh reached the front door, she was still beneath the trees. He looked back, smiled, and waited for her to catch up. Once she finally arrived, Macintosh wrapped a foreleg across her withers and brought her close to him, the cello case jostled into his side. He knocked on the front door, and Octavia held her breath.
The door opened slowly. No one was on the other side. Macintosh and Octavia exchanged confused glances, and Macintosh retrieved his foreleg and headed inside with Octavia following.
The house was dark and still, the only sound was the creak of the floorboards as they walked in. A small bit of candlelight flickered from the kitchen. A small smile eased onto Macintosh’s face. He beckoned for her to follow him into the kitchen. Octavia rolled her eyes but followed him anyway. Might as well get it all over with.
“Surprise!” the Apple family shouted, the kitchen brightening to reveal a large, towering cake in the middle of the dining table. Octavia licked her lips. It looked downright lovely. Pearl white frosting coated the cake so evenly Octavia could almost see her reflection. Plump, juicy strawberries lounged upon the top, sliced precisely into the shape of rosebuds. Shavings of milk chocolate curled across the sides like bark. This was no homemade concoction. This was professionally crafted decadence.
As Macintosh’s grandmother and two sisters greeted him and chatted away, Octavia snuck to the table, set down her cello, and grabbed the cake knife. Of course they wouldn’t mind if she had a slice or two. After all, this cake was bought to celebrate her coming here. Octavia cut a sizable wedge, a good quarter of the cake, for herself and slid it upon one of the plates laid out on the table.
No light reflected off the deep, dark brown of the chocolate cake. Four layers, with a rich golden caramel between them, made Octavia gasp in delight. As annoying as the Apple family was, at least they had decent tastes. She took a fork, stabbed a little bit of everything, and ate her first bite.
The bitterness of dark chocolate, the creaminess of the caramel, the airiness of the frosting, the sweet vibrancy of the strawberries. Oh, it was a beautiful concerto. It was bliss. It was like the coming of long awaited vengeance. It was perfect. Octavia wolfed it down like sweet ambrosia, and all too soon she was done. She licked the crumbs from her plate.
Octavia spied a glance at the other ponies. The Apple family were still engrossed by Big Macintosh telling them of everything that had happened to lead him and Octavia to this predicament. He was kind enough to leave out any...unnecessary details. All of them completely ignored her and the cake.
Well, what was another slice between acquaintances? Octavia grabbed another quarter of cake and tucked in. She finished that slice all too quickly, and Macintosh and his family were still catching up. Octavia took another slice without much thought, and she didn’t even hesitate to eat the last slice after that. Octavia sighed, her cake-lust finally sated. She leaned back on her chair, and sucked on her teeth to dislodge crumbs stuck between them.
“Octavia!” Applejack was the first to take notice of her. “You polished off the whole dang cake?”
“I absolutely did, and it was delicious. Thank you very much,” Octavia said.
“Well we’re glad you enjoyed it, dearie,” Granny Smith said.
“You didn’t save any for Big Mac?” Applejack asked, eyes narrowing.
“Aw heck, you know I ain’t one for sweets,” Big Mac said with a smile. “I was gonna give her my slice anyway.”
“And what about Applebloom?” Applejack snapped. “Ah know for a fact she was lookin’ forward to–”
“Wow, you ate the whole cake all on your own?” Applebloom asked, wide-eyed. “Don’t ya feel sick?”
Octavia chuckled. “Sick? From just one cake? Of course not. The only pony that can surpass me in eating sweets is Pinkie Pie. Though in my case it doesn’t all go to my rump, for better or worse. I always did wonder what it would be like to have extra cushioning back there.”
Applejack slapped her hoof against her forehead. “Thanks for that, Octavia.”
“Extra cushioning?” Applebloom repeated with a tilt of her head. “Why? Does it hurt when you sit?”
“Only in the mornings.”
“Octavia!” Applejack rushed forward, grabbed Octavia’s hoof, and dragged her out of the kitchen. Octavia barely had time to grab her cello. “How ‘bout Ah show ya where y’all'll be staying while yer here.” Applejack took her up the stairs to the second story, far away from the others. Applejack shoved Octavia away and glared at her. “Have you lost yer pony-pickin’ mind? Ah don’t care if you wanna pat yourself on the back for being so gosh dang clever with yer dirty jokes, but not in front of my baby sister. You ain’t gonna be the one to explain the birds and the bees if she gets too curious.”
Octavia shrugged. “What is there to explain? Just a matter of rubbing sensitive bits with other sensitive bits until you don’t want to anymore. Simple.”
Applejack rubbed her temple. “Celestia help my future nieces and nephews. Just follow me.” She went to the end of the hall and opened one of the doors. “Applebloom’s taken Mac’s old room, and Applebloom’s old room is too small for the two of ya, so y’all are gonna stay in our parents’ room.”
The first thing Octavia noticed as she set down her cello were the pictures. The framed photos were everywhere: on the walls, on the dressers, and on the nightstands. There were dozens, and each of them depicted another member of the Apple family, deceased and living. Octavia estimated it would take at least twenty minutes to flip them all. At least the bed looked big and comfy with a thick quilt laid over the mattress sheets. Octavia hopped onto the bed. Nice and firm with no annoying squeaks, just like her stallion.
“It’ll do, I suppose,” Octavia said. “Though I’m not too sure about sleeping in the same bed where you and Big Macintosh were conceived.”
“And delivered,” Applejack added, “but don’t worry, we washed the sheets.”
Octavia grimaced and hopped off the bed. “Well that’s a lovely thought. Are the walls soundproof?”
Applejack sighed. “Yeah, it is. Story goes that Pa soundproofed the room after Mac blubbered about not getting any sleep ‘cause he heard ghosts wailing in the middle of the night.”
Octavia chuckled. “Ghosts, the oldest excuse in the book. Still, it doesn’t sound like Macintosh to blubber about anything.”
“Aw well, he used to be a real crybaby back when our parents were alive,” Applejack said with a shrug. “But that was a long time ago.” Applejack shuffled her hooves. It was obvious she wanted to say something but was holding back her tongue. Fine, if she wouldn’t say it, then Octavia would have to.
“I know what you’re going to say,” Octavia said. “You don’t like me.”
“Ah wasn’t gonna say that.” Applejack rubbed her foreleg with the other. “Ah mean, that wasn’t all Ah was gonna say, an’ Ah certainly wasn’t gonna say it like that. Look, we don’t like each other. That’s fine, but since we’re gonna be living together, and since you're practically family, Ah’m willing to just...play nice, a’right? So, Ah won’t get on yer case so long as you try not to be so...blunt with yer words. How’s that sound?”
Octavia rolled her eyes. Truthfully, it sounded as if Octavia was a troublesome little filly and if she behaved she wouldn’t have to suffer a lecture from her older sister. Octavia clenched her jaw. She hated this arrangement. It made her indebted to a family she wanted nothing to do with, but she supposed it was inevitable now. She just had to remind herself it was for Macintosh's sake. So instead of saying anything she only held out her hoof for Applejack to shake. She did, and that was the end of it.
“You wanna come back downstairs? We just finished making zap apple jam, and it’s pretty dang tasty this time around.”
Octavia didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Sure thing.” Applejack left, closing the door behind her, and Octavia wasted no time in flipping every single photograph over.
It took less time than Octavia first thought, only about ten minutes to shove almost all the pictures into an empty dresser drawer. The last was a picture of Little Macintosh with his mother in a plain wood frame on a desk beside an old oil lantern. Little Macintosh beamed, wide eyed, at his mother who had a plow hitched on her harness. Octavia couldn't help but smile a little. They both looked so happy. Octavia kept this one where it was.
With nothing else to do, she slid open the large window behind the desk and leaned forward to gaze into the endless orchard of Sweet Apple Acres. The red, orange, and yellow leaves were all that swayed in the trees. There were no apples left on the boughs, yet the air still smelled so sweet.
A soft whistle wafted through the trees, but it slowly became louder and sharper until it pierced the air. Octavia’s ear twitched, and she raised her head to look for the source. A blue streak slammed into her. She tumbled to the ground and on her back. A lithe, cyan pegasus stood over her, her pink eyes looked down, eyebrows raised.
Octavia blinked to get her eyes back into focus. “Rainbow Dash?” Octavia smirked and wrapped her forelegs around Dash’s neck. “If you came here to introduce our cutie marks to each other, I’m afraid Macintosh and I agreed to illicit trysts only if we both participate.” She looked down Dash’s body. “And I don’t think you’ve done the proper stretches to prepare yourself.”
Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Ha ha ha, you should do stand up.” She pulled herself free and stepped away from Octavia. “Sorry about that, though. It was dark and I thought you were Mac. Wanted to say hi before everypony else came.”
“Everypony else?”
“Yeah, you know, the usual. Twilight, Pinkie, Fluttershy, Rarity. Those guys.”
Octavia got to her hooves and rubbed her forehead. “Oh good, I was hoping to visit the circus today.” A few feminine voices came in from the open window. Octavia looked out and saw a few figures making their way down the path to the farmstead. “Looks like they’ll be here in a minute or two.”
Rainbow Dash’s eyes widened. “Jeez, already? I thought I had a huge lead on ‘em.” She hurried to the door. “Mac’s downstairs, right? I wanna see him before he gets avalanched.” She swung the door open and rushed out, only to hit her head against Big Mac’s broad chest. Rainbow Dash stumbled back, and they caught each other’s gaze. Neither of them said a word. Neither of them moved for several seconds.
Dash tackled Macintosh. The momentum forced him to his hindlegs, and Macintosh laughed as he wrapped his forelegs around her. They twirled together, and they buried their noses in each other’s necks.
“You two should get a room, preferably with me already in it,” Octavia said as they finally released each other.
They both ignored her and delved into their own little conversation just as Macintosh's family did before. Octavia rolled her eyes. Fortunately, she only had to suffer their talk for a short while before there was a knock from downstairs followed by a myriad of voices. Big Macintosh and Rainbow Dash hurried their little hooves downstairs to join the whirlwind of excitement, and Octavia kicked the door closed behind them. The last thing she wanted was to be a part of their touching reunion, as if he had been away for years when it had only been a month or two at most.
Octavia slumped onto the bed and rolled over to stare up at the ceiling. The voices downstairs became so loud that the muffled talk managed to penetrate the soundproof room. She looked over at her cello. She knew she should be practicing, but doing so now wouldn't help at all. She felt too entrenched in thought and emotions. She wouldn't be able to enter her ideal state of mind. And so she stayed there on the bed as the minutes passed by.
Finally, after a couple of hours, the door creaked open. Macintosh sneaked into the room with a manilla folder between his teeth and a pink pastry box on his back. He set both on the desk and turned on the lantern, dimming it to a small spark of light. Octavia watched him. He didn't notice her; he probably thought she was asleep. Macintosh shuffled through the papers in the folder, examining them for a second or two before flipping them over and putting them aside.
"What are you doing?"
Macintosh tensed and looked over his shoulder at her. He gave her a sheepish grin. "Sorry, sugar. If I'd known you were up Ah woulda offered you a cupcake." He pushed the pastry box closer to Octavia, though it stayed on the desk. "As for the papers, well, they're just the finances for Sweet Apple Acres. Don't tell Applejack, had to swipe them from the safe."
Octavia raised an eyebrow. She hopped out of bed and sat beside Macintosh. She opened up the box of cupcakes and took one of them, admiring its rainbow frosting for a moment. She bit in. It was delicious, spiced and sweet with a mysterious little zip at the end, as if a little spark ignited every single tastebud at once. The sensation was odd but pleasant, like a tickle on her tongue.
"This year's dessert competition winner," Macintosh said with a smile.
"Where we first met," Octavia muttered. She looked at the confection, its sweet cake an orange cream with specks of red. "I take it Pinkie Pie made these?"
"The one and only," Macintosh said, going back to his paper.
Octavia polished off the cupcake and grabbed another. She looked at the small pile of documents Macintosh had put aside. She shuffled through them and saw several financial statements going back almost a decade. Profit and loss statements, quarterly balance statements, harvest reports.
"I didn't think a farm would need all this," she said.
"Farming's a business," Macintosh said. "Like any business, you don't keep track of the money it's gonna die."
Octavia nodded and continued to nose around the papers. She caught something strange in last quarter's balance sheet and compared it to the most recent one. Where it listed the stakeholders of the company, Macintosh's name had been removed.
"They took away your share of the company?" Octavia asked, resisting the urge to crumple the paper in her hooves.
Macintosh shrugged. "Eeyup. I ain't helping out on the farm anymore, ain't got no money tied up into it. Heck, I got my own farm now. We figured it was best if I gave up my share."
"We?"
"Me an' Applejack."
Octavia rolled her eyes. She had learned a long time ago that when Macintosh and Applejack were involved, 'we' usually just meant the latter. But fine. For the sake of keeping the peace between Octavia and her new 'family', she'd keep her mouth shut. After all, what was the big deal? What did it matter if Macintosh gave up his childhood to save this farm? What did it matter that Applejack took his share of that same farm as soon as he stopped working on it? What did it matter if she was treating her own brother like a common farmhand?
"You okay sugar?" Macintosh asked.
Octavia hadn't realized how hard she clenched her teeth, nor how much her body shook. She took a deep breath and nodded. Octavia focused back on the financial statements and flipped through them. A pattern leapt out at her.
"The farm brought in less profit this season," Octavia said.
Macintosh shrugged. "It's a bit of a transition I gotta imagine. We–"
"They."
Macintosh smiled. "We couldn't harvest as many apples, and that affects cider season, and that affects profits. Besides, Babs is still gettin' used to workin' here."
"Babs?" Octavia asked.
"Little filly about Applebloom's age, Applejack hired her to help around the farm after I left. You'll probably meet her soon, she's takin' the autumn break to go visit her parents."
"A filly?" Octavia said with a raised eyebrow. "Applejack hired a child to replace you? No wonder she's failing." She threw the papers back onto the desk and went back to the bed. Macintosh yawned, turned off the lamp and joined her. He lay beside her and nuzzled the top of her mane.
"It's really sweet to see ya worryin' about the farm like this," Macintosh said with a laugh.
Octavia puffed. "What do I care of the farm? I just live to point out the mistakes and flaws of others."
Macintosh chuckled, but said nothing more on the subject and instead changed it altogether. "We missed ya down in the kitchen. Everypony was askin' where ya were."
Octavia rolled so that her back was to Macintosh. "Really? Because all I can imagine are them bludgeoning you with their doe eyes. 'Oh Big Macintosh, we missed you so.' 'Oh Big Macintosh, your muscles are so firm.' 'Oh Big Macintosh, sire my foals.'"
Macintosh sat up on the bed and looked at her. "Are you jealous, sugar? 'Cause you know I'd never–"
"Oh do go on, Macintosh," Octavia said dryly. "So long as you invite me, I don't care what you do with them. I'm not jealous of your relationship with those mares. I'm jealous of..." Octavia trailed off and dug her head beneath her pillow. "I'm jealous of you," she muttered.
Macintosh softly stroked Octavia's back, and the sensation made her sigh her tension away. "What do you mean, sugar?" Macintosh asked.
"I don't know, I..." Octavia lifted her head out from under her pillow and rolled on her back to stare at the ceiling again. Thank goodness it was so dark; it hid the blush reaching up to her ears. This was so embarrassing, why was she even telling him? She could just say she got into a cask of cider and was blubbering in a drunken stupor. And yet, it felt good to lay out her feelings like this. Really good. As if getting rid of an ache in her chest that had been weighing her down.
"They admire you," Octavia continued, "and not just when you're doing something for them or performing for them. They admire you simply for who you are. And not just them, almost everypony you meet, besides Blueblood, who's not even worth the time anyway. Meanwhile, I just have...you, no offense meant of course."
Macintosh chuckled softly. "Sugar, that's the easiest problem to solve. All you gotta do is be yourself."
Octavia rolled her eyes. "Oh, what a novel idea!" Octavia said, the sarcasm dripping from her lips. "Next I'll try sharing my toys and simply talking to my bullies so that we may reach a new level of understanding. My goodness, the world seems so open and colorful and teeming with magic."
Macintosh gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Glad you agree."
Octavia narrowed her eyes. "Give me another one of those cupcakes. I want to smash one in your face."
"I didn't know you were into food play," Macintosh said with a grin.
Octavia rubbed her temple. She had taught him too well. "The fact remains. As much as I detest these next words to come from my mouth, I still have a desire to have your friends...worship me."
"Well, I don't know about worship, but my advice still stands."
Octavia hummed in thought. "Your advice is not completely terrible, but if I want them to admire me then I simply must show off my skills, and not only that, I must use my skills to do something for them. Then they will feel so grateful and guilty that they will be forced to admire me. But what?"
"Applejack's goin' to see Filthy Rich tomorrow to renegotiate the zap apple jam contract. You're really good with those sort of things."
"Zap apple jam?" Octavia repeated. "Applejack mentioned that earlier. What is it?"
Macintosh smiled. "Why it's one of Sweet Apple Acres exclusive products. The jam's made from zap apples which only grow about once a year, and let me tell ya, they ain't easy to grow. You actually already tasted it. Pinkie uses a bit of it for that rainbow frosting, the zap apple's what gives the frosting its color."
"Oh," Octavia thought back to the cupcake. "Is that what makes that zing? That small buzz on your tongue?"
"Eeyup. You should try the jam by itself. Like a bolt of lightning hit ya right in the mouth, an' I mean that the best possible way."
Octavia nodded. "Interesting, but why would I want to help Applejack?"
"'Cause yer a caring, loving pony that would do anything to help my family," Macintosh said with a teasing quirk of an eyebrow.
Octavia laughed. "I mean besides that."
"Well, Applejack's the most reliable pony in Ponyville. If ya help her out, she's definitely gonna tell all her friends. She'll admire you, they already admire her. You put some math on that and now they admire you." Macintosh shuffled on the bed and drew her into a hug. Octavia didn't resist. "And they'll feel the same way about ya as I do."
"I suppose you have a point," Octavia said. She yawned into his neck. "It would be nice of them to not so easily dismiss my advances as crude jokes. But I'll have to study the contract if I'm to be any use."
Macintosh rubbed her back. "Don't worry, I got a copy you can look over tomorrow morning. I'll talk to Applejack an' let her know you'll be helpin' her out."
Octavia grunted. "Do you really think Applejack will see my presence as a help? It's much more likely she'll see me as nothing but a hinderance. I'm sure she'll hate all of my suggestions on principle alone."
Macintosh kissed the top of Octavia's head. "Applejack likes ya a lot more than you give her credit for. Just talk to her, and let her know what you think. She'll listen to ya."
Octavia rolled her eyes but said nothing. She found it a little endearing when a bit of Macintosh's naïveté shined through, and yet a little, tiny, deeply-buried part of her hoped he was right.
-*-
The next day Applejack and Octavia walked silently beside each other on the path to Ponyville, neither of them very eager to break the silence. Applejack had reluctantly accepted Octavia's offer to go with her to renegotiate the contract, though it took some rather impressive linguistic gymnastics for Applejack to do so with a straight face.
Octavia had spent the entire morning looking over the zap apple contract. It...wasn't terrible. Granny Smith had recounted the tale of Ponyville's founding to Octavia, and through that historic lens the contract made sense. Of course, they were no longer in the past. Sweet Apple Acres was much larger now, and its situation much less desperate. Consequently, Octavia definitely saw a few outdated clauses that could be done away with. Namely the first, the last, and all in between.
She had a few daring ideas, but hadn't brought them up with Applejack yet. Octavia would have loved to simply stay quiet and allow Applejack to do whatever she thought was best. However, Macintosh's words rang in her mind. She supposed the least she could do was tell Applejack her ideas. She reached into the saddlebags Macintosh had lent her and took out a copy of the contract she had marked with red ink.
"Applejack, I had a few ideas about the contract. The deal you made with Filthy Rich wasn't awful, but considering where the farm is now you could easily–"
"Octavia, Ah'm real glad yer takin' an interest in the family business," Applejack interrupted, "but there really ain't much for ya to worry about with this. We've had this contract with the Rich's since Granny Smith's day. Whenever the terms come up for renegotiatin' all we do is adjust for inflation."
"I noticed," Octavia said dryly. "But the farm has grown; it's productivity has grown. You don't have to deal with mildly successful general stores. You could easily go into the high brow boutiques in Canterlot or Manehattan. There are hundreds of bored, rich ponies that would pay hundreds of bits for a novelty like this, and when they taste it they'll pay a hundred more. And that's just your jam. You could have a whole line of apple products: apple sauces, apple cider, apple juice, apple and nut protein bars. Then there's apple distribution! If anypony orders a waldorf salad anywhere in the tri-city area it'll be made with your apples."
Applejack tried her best to give Octavia a smile, but even phony expressions counted as lies, and so Applejack's face twisted with the attempt. "Octavia, this deal and the Rich's have treated us fine for almost fifty years. There ain't any reason to go behind Filthy Rich's back just to look for better pastures somewhere else. Heck, this contract is practically a tradition."
"Go behind his back? A tradition?" Octavia clenched her jaw and stopped in her tracks. Applejack stopped as well, tilting her head in confusion. Octavia took a deep breath. Calm down, there was no need to escalate things.
Octavia tried to put on her best smile, but hers was much better than Applejack's. "Applejack, don't you think you might be putting a bit too much sentiment into this relationship your family has with Filthy Rich? This is business. I'm sure he'll understand if you field your options."
"We do things different here in Ponyville," Applejack said. "This is more than just a business relationship. It's an agreement between two families that has lasted for as long as Ponyville. Sure, we might make some more money with somepony else, but we ain't ever gonna have this sort of partnership."
Octavia ground her teeth together. Her body shook and her fake smile melted away to reveal a deep scowl. "Are you insane? This is a business. You cannot make business decisions based on sentimentality. Your first priority should be the farm's growth, and let me tell you, Filthy Rich is nothing but a little weed, content with sucking whatever potential profits he can to sustain his meager wealth. Do you honestly think, for one second, that he values this relationship as much as you do? He doesn't. All he sees is a big fat paycheck. You're in charge. Act like it."
Applejack glared at Octavia. "You're right, Ah am in charge. Which is why Ah'm gonna renew this contract." She blew a puff of air from her nose and continued on.
Octavia grit her teeth and galloped ahead of Applejack, forcing her to a halt. "What is wrong with you? These are perfectly sound ideas! Is it because they're mine? Do you dislike me so much you'll dismiss all of my ideas no matter how great?"
Applejack ran a hoof through her mane and scowled at Octavia. "You wanna know why Ah don't like your ideas? It's 'cause they all put money over ponies. That all you care about? Money ain't important, Octavia."
Octavia bared her teeth into a twisted sneer. She stepped closer to Applejack, so close their noses touch. Applejack didn't back down, nor showed any sign of surprise or fear. Instead, she steeled her glare.
"Listen, carefully," Octavia said. "In five years when you've run this farm into the ground and left your family destitute, I hope that twisted, misguided thought keeps you well fed as you wait for Macintosh to save you yet again." Octavia spat in front of Applejack's hooves and walked past her, back toward the farmstead. Applejack said nothing and only continued on her way toward Ponyville.
Octavia slammed open the front door and stomped up the stairs into her bedroom. Macintosh sat at the desk, wistfully staring out the window with half-lidded eyes.
"Didn't even make it outta the farm," he said with a sigh.
Octavia grit her teeth and stared at her hooves. "I'm sorry, but it seems that I can't stay here. I really thought I could. If you want me to leave then I'll completely understand. I'll move back to Canterlot, get a job, and perhaps find a little rent controlled apartment in old town."
A warm foreleg wrapped around Octavia's withers, and Macintosh brought her close. Her head leaned against his chest, and he rested his head on top of hers.
"If you're goin' somewhere then I'm goin' with ya," Macintosh whispered. "But there ain't any reason for that. Why don't you tell me what happened."
Octavia buried her face into his neck. "I don't want to."
"Why not?"
"Because if you knew what I said to her, you would..." Octavia trailed off. She knew full well that Macintosh had seen one of her worst moments at the Manehattan fiasco, and yet he stayed. In some ways, however, this was much worse. She had bared her teeth and lashed out at his sister, and Macintosh valued his family more than anything else in his life. "I said something horrible to Applejack," Octavia said. "So horrible, I think you'll hate me for it."
"Do you regret saying it?" Macintosh asked.
"No." Octavia answered with no hesitation. "Not one bit."
"Then I won't either."
Octavia rolled her eyes. "You have a bad habit of oversimplifying everything."
"What can I say? I'm a simple pony."
Octavia chuckled. She backed away from him in order to meet his eyes. "Fine, I'll tell you, but you won't like it." She told him every word exchanged between her and Applejack. All the while Macintosh looked thoughtful, but nothing else. He never showed anger or sadness. Octavia would hate to play a game of poker against him.
It only took a few of minutes for Octavia to recount it all, but even after she finished she still had more to say. "And she just dismissed me over and over again! I just don't understand her thinking," Octavia said as she paced around the room in a huff. "Sweet Apple Acres could easily reach the national level with the right leadership, yet Applejack is just content to keep it stagnant. Which is all fine and good, but there's no guarantee that what works now will work tomorrow. New competition could spring up, or there could be a bad harvest, or a million other things could go wrong for no reason."
Macintosh tilted his head. "So what're you really worried about?"
Octavia scoffed and waved away his accusation. "Please, Macintosh, you know me well enough. I'm nothing but brutally honest a hundred percent of the time." She scowled out the window. Macintosh came to her and rubbed her back.
"Listen, sugar, Applejack didn't do a great job listenin' to ya, and I'll have a talk with her about that, but when it comes to Applejack runnin' the farm, there's nothin' you can do but have faith in her. There's a reason Granny Smith and me chose Applejack to be in charge." Macintosh kissed her cheek, and a bit of red from his lips spread to tinge her cheeks. "But I want ya to know that I trust ya, and if there's something you feel you gotta do, then I'll support ya. So long as it ain't illegal."
The corner of Octavia's mouth lifted in a smile. "Thank you, but I honestly don't know what to do. I just feel..." Defeated. Octavia didn't want to say it out loud, didn't want to give the final word any substance outside her own thought.
"It'll be okay. Maybe some food'll help. I'll be downstairs gettin' lunch ready." Macintosh went for the door, but only took a few steps before looking over his shoulder. "Oh, and you should probably get ready for the lecture Applejack's gonna give ya. She's probably gonna be boilin' up about the whole thing 'til she get's back."
Octavia rested her head on the desk. "I'll keep that in mind."
Macintosh nodded and left, and Octavia stayed still for several minutes. She raised her head as she fought back the water that blurred her vision. When she could see clear again, her eyes rested on the photo of Macintosh with his mother. She grabbed it, gently, as if it were made of the same stuff as her. She smiled at the old sepia tone, but her smile quickly faded.
The world could be a harsh place, couldn't it? But that was fine, because Macintosh had survived its cruelty. She had survived its cruelty. But Macintosh was far stronger than her. He had made it through while remaining soft and kind. Octavia returned the photo and opened one of the desk's drawers to get parchment and an inkwell. Life had made her hard and mean, but that was fine. It meant she could fight.
Octavia dipped her quill into the ink and busied herself with writing a contract. She wrote furiously and with great purpose, not a single stroke wasted. Not a drop of ink spilled. In one half hour she finished. She lifted her quill from the last serif, and Applejack kicked the door open.
"Who the heck do you think you are?" Applejack yelled. "We opened our door to ya, called you family, but you're here just one damn day and you think you could butt in and act like you run this place? And then you go an' spit in front of me? Ah swear to Celestia it took all the will Ah had not to slug ya across the face. You're lucky your Mac's mare or Ah swear Ah'd buck ya back to Canterlot where you came from. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Octavia looked over her shoulder at Applejack and said nothing. She took the contract she wrote and presented it to Applejack. Applejack raised an eyebrow and took it.
"What's this?" she asked.
"A contract," Octavia said. She turned to face Applejack fully. "You can read it if you like, but it basically lays out the terms of my and Macintosh's living here."
Applejack scanned the one page agreement. "You're...paying me rent. A lot of it..."
"Yes, I thought it only fair considering the shared meals and utilities. In exchange, Macintosh is not to work on Sweet Apple Acres unless given a proper wage: a hundred bits an hour for consultation, a hundred fifty for labor, a hundred if I get to watch."
"What? Why do Ah gotta pay to get my own brother to work on the farm. It's a family business, he's family, and if it does well then that means good things for 'im," Applejack said.
Octavia chuckled. "Oh no, neither Macintosh nor I have any stake in the farm. Its success or failure is no concern of ours. We simply rent a room here, that's all."
Applejack shook her head. "Ah don't get it. Is this supposed to be some kind of apology? 'Cause you don't need to give me bits every month, a simple 'sorry' is good enough."
Octavia glared at her and stepped closer to her. "No, this is not an apology. It is a statement of two simple truths. The first, that you make a better landlord than a potential sister-in-law. The second, that Sweet Apple Acres will fail under your leadership, and, when it does, I'll be damned if you drag Macintosh down with you. So sign it, and be done with it."
Applejack's face darkened into a vicious snarl. She tossed the contract to the ground and stomped on it. "You know what, Octavia?" Applejack brought her nose to Octavia's. She spoke in a harsh whisper. "What's the point? You ain't gonna last long here anyway. 'Cause sooner or later Mac's gonna figure out just how mean and petty you really are, and Ah can't wait to help him kick ya out on the street."
"You mean the street you'll soon be living in?"
They glared at each other for several seconds, neither of them backing down.
"Lunch is ready." Macintosh poked his head through the doorway.
"Be right down," Applejack and Octavia said simultaneously, both wearing fake smiles. Macintosh frowned, obviously not buying it for a second, but showed better judgement and went back downstairs anyway.
With the intrusion gone, both of them went back to glaring at each other.
"Sign the contract," Octavia said.
"Ah got a few changes Ah wanna make," Applejack sneered. "Don't bother payin' me any rent. Ah ain't gonna take my own brother's money. All you gotta give me is quiet. You don't talk to me, ever, and you can stay for free for all Ah care."
Octavia pulled the contract from beneath Applejack's hoof and took it back to the desk. She crossed out the offending clauses and made the proper revisions. She presented the new contract to Applejack, who scanned through it. Octavia held out the quill to her, and Applejack took it. She signed, and Octavia did as well.
Without another word Applejack left the room and slammed the door behind her. Octavia released a breath she didn't know she was holding. She collapsed onto the bed and stared at the desk, at the only photo left in the room.
She won.
Stats
Page generated in 0.027 seconds
Total duration
1,044 users online
1,681,710 hits today, 2,561,572 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Applejack VS Octavia!!!
Octavia's biting whit was a fantastic way to wake up this morning. Though times seem tough now, I'm really looking forward to seeing where this goes! It has me wrapped up worse than Keeping It Simple did!
Octavia keeps behaving like a selfish jerk. Has not learned her lesson yet?
7457592
It's a symptom of deeper problems. She cares about those she's being a jerk to, but she's not being very good at acting or expressing that presently. This is a character-driven story; if you're going to judge the protagonist's actions you should also try to understand them.
She's going to get fat before she gets nice.
Octavia needs to find somebody to talk to outside of Mac just to give her an outlet. She is already friendly with Pinkie so I hope she goes there. Pinkie and Mac already have had some good conversations in the last story so I really hope with adding Octavia we can get some more with them all. Remember Pinkie is the one who introduced Octavia to Mac.
Does anybody else think it odd that Octavia seems to mention trying to get some of Mac's friends involved in their relationship several times. Most of the time it is that Mac is not allowed to stray unless she is involved with it too but that is still odd. I wonder if that is some sort of foreshadowing? If it is who would be first? We know that Dash and Rarity are very interested but those are the ones that Octavia would be most uncomfortable with I would imagine. Pinkie would probably be easier for her but just because I think Pinkie would be interested in Mac does not mean she would feel comfortable with that, though she could be of course (this is also true for all the other characters as well). It could be just a joke as well.
Why does this simply fill me with dread?
I feel for Octavia honestly, just a bit, I know what it's like when you care about someone and you think you know better but they just can't understand you. And it's gosh darn infuriating.
Have I posted this already? Oh well. Bears repeating--especially since it gets more and more apposite with each chapter:
That primp-up petty floozy!!!
Interesting. The last story was spent watching Big Mac lose absolutely everything. Now Octavia gets the same.
Well, the stage is set. Also, AJ and Octavia probably haven't heard of something called compromise. There's probably a better way to revise the contract after generations, yet also still on pretty friendly terms.
Oh well, let's see how this progresses with time.
Those two definitely have a good start /sarcasm. In a way though, it will be good for the both of them. AJ will learn that in business, being friendly is not 100% of what is needed. Octavia will learn that ruthlessness is not always needed either. And become more tempered, hell, maybe even happy with time.
But as always, another chapter, another amazing time well spent reading it
After reading the previous story I could not imagine that Octavia can be so horrible (and money-hungry). She acted almost like a real asshole. She really must have some serious issues in her past to be so bad at socializing with and trusting anypony.
This is priceless, so true, short and eloquent.
Maybe I consider using this line on my future children.
I may get some hate for this but... I'm siding with Octavia. Tradition is the death of business. I also have a burning hatred for Applejack. I mean... a Vesuvius-level white-hot hatred for Applejack. I don't like her much.
7457643 This. People and by extension characters think on different terms from each other. Applejack sees the traditions that she ties her own and her family's identity to, while Octavia sees the dispassionate reality of a business. Neither of them really seem to want to compromise yet, but Octavia comes out of it looking worse because she doesn't have the benefit of appealing to emotion the way Applejack's traditions and unwillingness to change her ways do. To Octavia, it's a math equation: X change + Y asset= z growth, z growth=safety and stability. To AJ, changing the way she lives risks not only the traits she assigns herself as part of her identity, but a business relationship that is as much a friendship as it is a contract, and as such AJ sees attempts to change this dynamic as a personal insult to her values, while Octavia sees a character who cares more about tradition than the well-being of her own family in the future. Neither are really strictly 'right' or 'wrong' about it, but Octavia's lack of tact and dispassionate stance makes her seem the villain.
Grandpappy when Is their going to be more story? Well you see young one, sometime in the future when the great gods have forgiven....oh dear lords grand son, I just can't stay strong "sob" why has he abandoned us!
After reading the previous story and this one over the past couple days. I'm now a might bit invested. It's been a good read over all.