Keeping It Simple

by Ivory Piano

13. Friends in High Places

Friends in High Places

The smell of coffee filled the kitchen as Big Macintosh watched the dripping liquid fill the pot much too slowly for his taste. His headache wasn’t going to get any better. Seconds felt like hours, minutes like months. Normally he’d have a little drink to ease the pain in his head, but he had only one jug of applejack left and he wanted to save it for a special occasion, or for a time when he really needed it. He had gone through his usual supply quicker than usual this year, thanks in part to Rainbow Dash.

The rain had stopped but half an hour ago, and Macintosh was eager to get out to the farm and inspect the damage. From the kitchen window he could see a few branches torn off from the sheer force of the wind last night, but he couldn’t be sure how much of the orchard was in the same state. Not to mention the fields. That kind of heavy rain could undo hours of hard work in as little time as a minute.

Finally the pot was filled with the black liquid that could make his pain more manageable. When he went to fetch a mug he heard the front door open and close. Applejack walked into the kitchen a few seconds later. He was a bit surprised and wondered where she had gone so early in the morning. For that matter, he wondered when she had woken up. As he pondered his thoughts, Applejack pulled a chair from the table and sat, all the while giving him a hard stare.

“Mornin’ there, Mac. Ya mind tellin’ me why Ah woke up with Rainbow Dash sleepin’ next to me this morning?” she asked.

He hid his confusion and imminent laughter and focused on grabbing two mugs and pouring coffee. He added a bit of salt into one and a splash of milk and a cube of sugar to the other. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out how Dash ended up in his sister’s bed. He was absolutely sure he had placed her in the guest room. It was possible, he supposed, that she got up and moved, but the why of it was beyond his deduction. Still, he couldn’t pass up the chance to have a bit of fun at Applejack’s expense.

With a great sigh he placed her coffee in front of her and stared into his own while sitting across from her. His reflection was barely visible in the black liquid. He used it to get his expression just right: eyebrows furrowed in a troubled expression, and a soft frown that was neither angry nor sad. “Listen AJ, Ah know you an’ Dash are best friends, and you know Ah’ll always be yer brother.” He plucked Applejack's hooves away from her mug and interlocked his fetlocks with hers. “Ah guess it’s time some things got out in the open.”

“Mac, what’re you sayin’?” Applejack asked suspiciously, her glare hardening until it seemed she was ready to kill. “If yer tellin’ me that you an’ Dash-“

“Ah’ll always love ya, sugarcube,” he interrupted, “and if you wanna tell Granny Smith then Ah’ll be right there beside ya. Ah know she’s old-fashioned but she knows that sometimes ya gotta accept family as they are.”

Applejack was caught off guard, and her gaze went from one of fury to one of complete confusion. “Wait, what-“

“Truth be told Ah ain’t that surprised that you an’ Dash-“

“Big Macintosh Apple!” Applejack snapped, and it was the last push he needed to completely lose his composure and burst into laughter. It aggravated his headache, but it was worth it. Applejack took back her hooves and shook her head. “Ah oughta buck yer face in for that,” she said before taking a sip of her coffee.

“For what?” Rainbow Dash asked as she entered the kitchen while rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Macintosh smiled as he went to pour her a mug of coffee. “You’re not still mad at me for scaring you, are you? It took me forever to get back to sleep after you freaked out like that. Four sugars and no milk, Mac.”

“Ya didn’t scare me. Ah was surprised is all, and Ah think Ah got a bit of a right ta freak out,” Applejack said. “How’d you even end up in my room anyway?”

“Oh, well,” Rainbow Dash said as Mac placed her mug of coffee in front of her, “Mac thought it would be too obvious if you found me in his bed.” Macintosh tried to stifle a second round of laughter. He didn’t do a very good job and Applejack’s glare returned as Dash gave him a sideways grin.

“Oh no, Ah ain’t fallin’ for any of yer fibs. Mac already tried,” his sister said, placing her mug on the table with enough force to make a loud clunk.

“Yeah?” Rainbow Dash asked as she turned to him. “What’d you tell her?”

“He played dumb and implied that you an’ me were uh…well Ah ain’t gonna say it,” Applejack said.

“Aww, I should have thought of that,” Dash said. “Come into the kitchen all ‘Hey, AJ, I had a really nice time last night’.”

Applejack groaned into her coffee. “Alright, it’s too early in the morning for any more of this. Can y’all just tell me straight what the heck happened yesterday? Ah thought y’all were just gonna see a show for a couple of hours, not disappear for the whole day.”

“You wouldn’t even believe me if I told you. Okay so when we got to Cloudsdale-” Macintosh coughed to stop Rainbow Dash, and the two stared at each other for a brief moment. The last thing he wanted was for Applejack to worry about him, or to know that he had actually done a decent amount of work instead of relax at the airshow with Dash. Who knows what she would say about that.

“Something came up,” Dash said, her enthusiasm dissipating. “I’ll tell you about it later, or better yet I’ll show you the newspaper article when it comes out.” Dash grinned, and Applejack raised an eyebrow to her friend before shaking her head and taking a sip of coffee. “Anyway,” Dash continued, “after that me and Mac went to get some drinks, I had too much and fell asleep, so Mac let me stay in the spare bed upstairs.”

“Alright, Ah get that,” Applejack said, “but how’d you end up in my room?”

“I got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and got a little lost on my way back.” Dash noticed the skeptical look on the farm mare’s face. “I drank a lot. No hangover though. Lucky me, huh Mac?” Macintosh only grunted his response, not so fortunate.

“Well, Ah suppose if it were me instead of Big Macintosh Ah would’ve done the same, so Ah can’t be too mad at ya.” Applejack finished her coffee and stood up with a yawn. “You ready to go, big brother?”

Mac’s ear twitched. “Go where?”

Applejack tilted her head as if he had just asked where apples came from. “Out to the farm, of course. There’s tons of work that needs to be done. Ya haven’t seen it yet, but let me tell ya, it’s bad. Ah need yer help.”

“You really mean it?” Macintosh asked, almost afraid that he might still be asleep and this was all a dream.

“Eeyup,” she said.

“We better get started then.” It was hard to hide his excitement, but he managed to keep his smile tucked away. Applejack nodded and turned to the front door with Big Macintosh following along.

“Hey, you guys mind if I help out?” Rainbow Dash asked. The Apple siblings looked at Dash and gave her the same confused look. They then met each other’s eyes, and Applejack just gave her brother a shrug.

“If ya want,” Applejack said over her shoulder, leading the way outside.

The sun shone fiercely in the morning hour. The weather pegasi had done quick work and the sky was already clear of any clouds. The quiet plunk of raindrops falling off the porch roof and the trees in the orchard could be heard throughout the farm. Applejack had been right, the damage to the farm was widespread. Everywhere branches were on the ground and green leaves littered the farmland. Even a few immature apples had been knocked out of their branches. The fields suffered the worst of the weather. All of them had turned to mud to the point where they could no longer be told apart from the rest of the ground. All of their land that wasn’t held down by the roots of grass and trees was reduced to slush.

Applejack sighed and took the first steps off the porch. Her hooves sunk completely into the ground and it took a bit of force to free them to take another step. “It’s gonna take us a good day’s work ta get everything cleaned up and back in shape.”

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said, standing beside her. He tried to hide the smile threatening to cross his face as he counted up the hours he would be able to work. The fields were easy enough, he just had to square them out and plow them again before the ground got too dry. Though he wouldn’t mind if it did dry completely since it would make for a much harder time of it. Then the fields would have to be reseeded, since there was a good chance the previous seeds had been washed away. What would take the bulk of his time was clearing up every single branch that had fallen from the hundreds of trees that made up the orchard. If he was lucky there would be great big branches the size of a pony that only he could clear away.

Macintosh looked over to Rainbow Dash to see her reaction, but she was too interested with the mud at her hooves and busied herself with gathering a small mound in front of her. She caught his eyes and smirked as she buried her hooves in the mud, crouched down, and flared her wings. Big Mac chuckled softly. How couldn’t he play along when he was in such a great mood?

“Best ta get started,” Applejack said. Nobody paid her any attention. Mac slid a hoof through the slick mud, his eyes never leaving Rainbow’s. She was going for a lightning fast close-range attack, no doubt to get him as muddy as possible in as little time as possible. There was no way he could match her speed, but he didn’t have to be fast to sling mud into her face.

“High noon, Sheriff,” Dash said, staring him down, “and this field ain’t big enough for the both of us.” Applejack quickly turned her head, and all she could do was stare at the two as they stood across from each other.

“You best be gettin’ outta my town now, Dash, before ya get yerself hurt,” Mac said, returning the glare and rolling his sprig of wheat to the other side of his mouth.

“You sound like a hero, but there’s something you gotta learn about heroes, Mac. Heroes die!” Rainbow Dash tensed her wings and Mac raised his hoof, but before they could see who was the fastest slinger in the West a voice suddenly called out.

“There you are, Macintosh,” Rarity said, wearing her saddlebags as she came between him and Dash. The mud slowed her down, and she took each step gently and slowly as if that would keep the muck away from her hooves despite the fact that they were well protected by her rainboots. She noticed Applejack and Rainbow Dash and quickly exchanged hellos before focusing back on him and batting her eyelashes. “Macintosh, sweetie, I was looking for you all afternoon yesterday. I hoped to catch you coming back from Cloudsdale, but you and Rainbow seemed to have disappeared well into the night.” She cast a suspicious glance toward the blue pegasus, only to have a ball of mud hit her square in the face.

“Ugh, my face!” she said, quickly wiping away the mud, an effort impeded by her mud covered boots. “Rainbow Dash! Do you have any idea of the effort I put into my appearance? Hours of exfoliating, moisturizing, and hydrating ruined by a single swing of your hoof!”

“It wasn’t me,” Dash said, her cheeks puffed with held-back giggles.

“I saw you throw it,” Rarity retorted.

Dash dismissed her reasoning with a wave of a hoof. “You’re just seeing things, probably because of all that mud in your eyes.”

Rarity huffed her disapproval as she finally cleaned off the mud as much as she could. She gave Dash a steely gaze before turning to Macintosh with a sudden sweet smile. “I’m so sorry for the interruption, Macintosh,” she said. Mac had to try his hardest not to chuckle at her dirtied face. “I was hoping-” Another ball of mud interrupted her as it smacked against her backside. With a growl she turned back to Rainbow Dash with a look to kill. Dash only pointed to Applejack, the farm mare’s hoof raised and muddied.

“Ah was aiming for Mac,” Applejack quickly explained, “but yer butt got in the way.”

“Et tu, Applejack? Oh the equinity,” Rarity said, bringing her hoof to her forehead. “The finest ponies of my generation have betrayed me! But I am strong. I will overcome!”

“Don’t get yer mane in a knot, ya drama queen,” Applejack said with a laugh. “Don’t ya get mud on ya in the spa anyway? What’s the difference?”

Rarity rolled her eyes. “You sound just like your brother. Well then Applejack, I suppose you don’t want to hear the wonderful news I have for you.”

“Wonderful news, huh?” Applejack said with a tilt of her head. “Alright, Ah’ll bite, whaddya got?”

Rarity shook her head with a smile and a trio of clicks from her tongue. “I’d like an apology first. A kiss on my hoof will do,” she said, raising a hoof daintily into the air.

Applejack exhaled in contempt. “How ‘bout Ah don’t hit ya with another ball of mud?” she said.

Rarity didn’t lower her hoof. “Are you sure? Oh well, I’m sure when you hear my news you’ll be begging for the chance. You see, I recently went to Canterlot to peruse a few fabric stores. They have an amazing fashion district, there’s this one store in particular that has the most wonderfully soft silk. Anyway, while I was there I ran into Fancy Pants, he’s the pony in charge of organizing the summer picnic I’m taking Macintosh to this weekend, in case you didn’t know. He informed me, sadly, that the picnic had to be postponed because the caterer had suddenly taken ill, from food poisoning if you can believe it, and he couldn’t find another in such short notice.”

“Uh-huh,” Applejack said, bored. “How’s that good news?”

“You’re so lucky to have a friend with my connections,” Rarity said with a smile. Her horn began to glow and a folded piece of paper levitated from her saddlebags, “because, you see, I told him that I knew a caterer that would be happy to take the job, better yet I told him this caterer had made quite a name for herself by creating the desserts enjoyed at Princess Cadence’s wedding. Wouldn’t you know it, he so trusted my taste and opinion that he hired Sweet Apple Acres right there and then. Of course, I suppose your reputation as an Element of Harmony helped as well.”

“Yer tellin’ me ya got me a catering job?” Applejack said, a smile brightening her face. “Well heck, that’s great! Still ain’t gonna kiss yer hoof though. How much does it pay?”

“I dare not say it, the number is so large it’s practically vulgar and has no place in polite conversation. Here, all the information you need to prepare is on this paper, including an address where you can write Fancy Pants in case you have any questions,” Rarity said with a smile before floating the slip of paper over to her friend. The news only widened Applejack’s grin. Macintosh couldn’t blame her, since the prospect of a catering job made him pretty excited as well, and not just because of the money it would surely bring in.

“Well then, Miss Rarity,” Macintosh said, “Ah guess that means Ah can’t go to the picnic with ya, seein’ as how Ah’m gonna be busy catering it and all.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, Mac,” Applejack said, snuffing out his excitement. “Ah’ll ask Pinkie Pie to help out. It’d probably be good to have some food that ain’t made of apples there too. Besides, Ah’m gonna need her help if Ah’m gonna get everything ready by the weekend.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Rarity said. Mac hid his disappointment. It wasn’t just about weaseling out of taking Rarity to some upscale picnic (one that he assumed, would have little real resemblance to an actual picnic), but he also had been looking forward to working beside his family. He couldn’t feel too down about it, however. Not when there was plenty of work to be done.

“Ah’m gonna get started on the fields,” he said, eager to get to work.

“Actually, Macintosh,” Rarity’s voice quickly stopped him, “I was hoping you could come to the Boutique with me and we could get your fitting done.”

“Sorry Miss Rarity,” he said over his shoulder, “Ah got work to do here on the farm.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mac,” Applejack said. “Ah got the farm covered.”

His ears pinned back and he stared at his sister. “But Ah…you said…the farm?”

“Like Ah said, Ah got the farm covered, so go and have yer little date with Rarity,” his little sister said with an added smirk to the unicorn, who responded with a furious blush.

“But are ya sure?” he asked.

“Ah’m sure,” Applejack said, her voice taking a hard edge, “now get going.”

Big Macintosh didn’t even put up a fight. He only shrugged his shoulders and gave his little sister a tight-lipped smile that hid his gritting teeth. He couldn’t argue with her. He was quickly learning that it was just easier to go along and hope for the best.

“Psst, hey Mac,” Rainbow Dash whispered as she elbowed his ribs. He didn’t know when she had come so close to him. “Don’t worry, I’ll come by and think up some excuse to get you out of it.”

“Dash, I’m right here,” Rarity said, tapping the pegasus on the shoulder. “I can hear every word you say.”

“Just give me ten minutes,” Dash whispered to him.

Rarity heaved an exasperated sigh and began walking to Ponyville. She flicked her tail against his side. “Come along, Macintosh. Time is of the essence.” Macintosh gave Dash a small shrug before saying goodbye to her and his sister. With that he followed behind Rarity, every so often looking over his shoulder.

The farm was getting smaller and smaller as they walked away, but still Macintosh could see the apples hanging from the trees. He could still see the orchard hugging the farmstead. He could even still see Applejack getting the plow out of the barn. All of it bathed in the bright light of the morning.

It was during one of those long looks back that Rarity noticed what held his eyes. She stopped so that Macintosh caught up beside her. “Is there something wrong?” she asked, maintaining an easy pace.

“Applejack’s been takin’ more and more work away from me,” Macintosh said, breaking his gaze with a shake of his head. “Ah don’t think she wants me on the farm anymore.”

“Oh nonsense,” Rarity said, “I’m sure she’s just doing you a favor.”

Macintosh grunted. “Seems to me that she’s takin’ up all the work by herself.”

Rarity squinted at the ground for a few seconds, and she didn’t look up when she addressed him. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, the rest of the girls and I have noticed how busy she’s been lately.” She smiled and raised her head to meet his eyes. “I’m sure it’s just to prepare for the Fall. Isn’t that when Sweet Apple Acres is at its busiest?”

Macintosh nodded but didn’t say anything. She had a point. Late Summer and Autumn was when the Apple Family Reunion, Applebuck Season, and Cider Season took place, sometimes one right after the other. Maybe he was just still in his obsessive workhorse mindset, and the only reason it felt like he was doing no work at all was because he wasn’t used to doing so little around the farm. However, something about having more free time than Applejack seemed very wrong to him. Was this really okay?

Of course it was. He and his sister already aired out their grievances with each other, and Applejack made it clear that he was working too hard, too much. This was just part of the process, he was sure of it. Still, if that was the case then why did he feel like he was just going to the opposite extreme. From working too much to working too little.

Groaning, he shook his head and stared at the ground, hopelessly lost.

“Don’t worry so much, sweetie,” Rarity said, her voice soft and honeyed. “All you need is something to do to get your mind off the farm.”

Macintosh nodded. He was changing a habit he had learned since he was a tiny colt, of course it wouldn’t be easy. At least he was going to spend time with Rarity. She had a way to make his mind go blank, if only because she could push him beyond the limits of embarrassment. At least he had fun trying to do the same to her. Even so, he hoped she wouldn’t flirt with him while he was standing in the middle of the boutique while she poked and prodded him with pins, measuring tape, and her hooves.

They arrived at the boutique, and Macintosh had barely taken his first steps inside when Rarity levitated his harness off of him. A second later he felt the measuring tape wrap around his neck.

“Hah,” Rarity said as she squinted at the numbers, “your neck is smaller by almost a whole inch.” She gave him a smug smirk, turned to her drafting table and started scribbling. “See? I told you there was good reason to take your measurements again.”

“Ah thought my yoke felt a bit loose,” Mac said dryly.

“Laugh if you must, but just you wait. This will be the absolute best outfit I have ever created for a stallion.”

“So long as it ain’t some sleeveless cardigan with a pink sweater ‘round my neck.”

Rarity laughed. “Oh, sweetie, don’t be ridiculous,” she said while crumpling up the piece of paper she was drawing on and magically flinging it into a trash can. She grabbed a new piece, started sketching again, and levitated a bright blue fabric toward Mac.

“What do you think?” she asked, wrapping her measuring tape around his stifle.

“Ah think Ah wanna get back home,” he said, only half jokingly.

“Oh don’t be that way,” Rarity said with a small giggle.

Macintosh could only stand and wait as Rarity continued taking more measurements. Despite what the tailor’s tape said, he honestly saw no point in standing here in the middle of Carousel Boutique for a second time. Worse was the fact that Rarity had become much more familiar with him since the first time he had a fitting and now held no trepidation in touching him (if she had any the first time he had his measurements taken). On the bright side, now that he was more comfortable with her he could complain more about it.

“Yer hoof’s on my cutie mark,” he said. It had been there for the past minute.

Rarity just hummed to let him know she had heard him, but her hoof stayed where it was to provide balance as she stood on her hindlegs to read the tape as it measured the distance from the base of his neck to the base of his tail.

Macintosh only sighed and tried to think of something to say that would distract him from the lack of personal space. Hopefully something that didn’t lead to flirting. It would only make him feel awkward when she was this touchy with him. As a matter of fact, he had been mulling over a question for quite a while, and he thought now was as good a time to ask it as any.

“Mind if Ah ask ya a question,” he asked. Rarity hummed affirmatively as she stared intently at the tape measure currently wrapped around his lower back. “What would ya do if ya couldn’t do,” he tried to find the right word that would encompass everything the dressmaker did. He gave up and simply waved a hoof all around him, “this?”

Rarity seemed to catch his meaning, and she gave him a little laugh. “Why wouldn’t I be able to?”

“Ah dunno,” he said, “just…what if ya couldn’t anymore?”

“I have no idea,” she said. She removed her tailor’s tape and gently smoothed out the part of his coat that it had disturbed. “Thankfully I don’t have to worry about it. I’m sure I’ll be making dresses, dealing with customers, and creating for a long, long time.” Big Macintosh didn’t say anything, and only tried to ignore Rarity’s soft touch as he thought of her answer.

“So Macintosh,” she said, “are you excited to take such a pretty mare out on a picnic in Canterlot?”

“A pretty mare?” he asked, tapping his chin. “Ah thought Ah was takin’ you.”

Rarity lowered her eyelids, and his quip seemed enough to completely deflate her. She removed her side from his and draped her foreleg across her head, just above her eyes in a dramatic pose. “Oh such a tragedy that all my kindness and hard work be wasted on such a rude stallion who can’t even see the true beauty of the one whose efforts benefit him so.”

Macintosh chuckled at her theatrics. “Sorry, Miss Rarity,” he said. “Ah didn’t mean it.”

“Apology accepted,” she said, “now kiss my hoof.” She lifted up her hoof as she had done with Applejack and held it toward him.

Macintosh quirked an eyebrow. “What’s with you and hoof-kissin’ all a sudden? That some new thing over at Canterlot?” he asked with a smirk.

Rarity waved away his question with one of her own. “Are you excited to go to Canterlot? I know Fancy Pants is eager to meet you again, you left quite the impression on him the last time we went.”

Macintosh simply shrugged. “Wasn’t about two weeks ago last Ah went to Canterlot for the dessert contest. Week later Ah was in Cloudsdale. Feels like Ah’ve been spending more an’ more time outside Ponyville.”

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Rarity asked. “And just think that only a few months ago you had said you hardly traveled outside of Ponyville.”

Again he could only shrug and stand perfectly still as Rarity wrapped the measuring tape around his barrel. “So how big is this get-together anyway?” he asked.

“Oh it’s quite small,” she said, “only a couple hundred ponies or so.”

Mac’s teeth clenched for a split second. “That doesn’t sound small to me.”

“Believe me, when it comes to parties in Canterlot, two hundred ponies is small,” Rarity said, finally removing the tape. “All right, Macintosh.” Rarity flicked her mane and went to her drafting table where she began to scribble her ideas. “I think this time I’ll go with a suit made of a blend of silk and wool, something light that will breathe in the hot summer sun. Also I want to make it a lighter color, I think an earth tone would suit you well. Though I’d like to stay away from anything green. No sense in making you look like Hearth’s Warming, after all. Now as for accessories…”

Macintosh pretended to listen. As usual most of her words flew over his head, the topic completely unfamiliar to him. His thoughts began to wander to Canterlot. If someone had told him three months ago that he would soon go to Canterlot three whole times then he would have called them crazy. It was a beautiful place, to be sure, but he couldn’t help but feel a little out of place every time he went.

Rarity’s curled mane came into his line of sight, and suddenly he found himself staring into her sapphire eyes. He couldn’t help but notice how they gleamed in the light.

“How does all that sound, Macintosh?” Rarity asked with a small smile.

“Just fine, Rarity,” he said. “You know me, Ah ain’t got much of head for this sorta thing.”

“You seem distracted, sweetie,” she said while taking a step back. “Anything on your mind?”

“Ah’m just thinkin’ about goin’ to Canterlot again,” he quickly explained.

She smiled. “You’re not worried about going, are you?”

Nothing came out of the farm horse, and he only looked away to a far off corner of the boutique at a small mote of dust drifting lazily in the air. Finally he turned back to her, silently watching him with a small tilt of her head. He recognized that look. The look ponies had when their minds were conceptualizing and abandoning thoughts a hundred times a minute. A look usually reserved for brain teasers and puzzles. He didn’t like it.

Relief swept over him when she dropped her stare and casually stepped past him toward her table. The feeling didn’t last long. His muscles tensed as he felt her side press against his once again, and this time she even went so far to lean her head against his shoulder. He could feel her horn press lightly against his neck. “Macintosh, sweetie, darling, you have nothing to be worried about,” she said with an encouraging smile. “You did just fine the last time we went to Canterlot, and by what Pinkie told me you presented yourself well in the dessert competition. She even told me you had a little date.”

Macintosh could feel his cheeks burn. “She told ya that, huh?” he said, trying his best to play off his embarrassment. “So how many mares have you told? Last Ah heard yer the one with all the gossip ‘round Ponyville.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rarity said with a flick of her mane. “I never spread gossip when it concerns my dear friends. Besides, do you have any idea how many mares would go into a tizzy if news spread that Big Macintosh Apple had a date?”

The very idea forced a chuckle out of the workpony. “Ah might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, Miss Rarity, but Ah know enough to figure when yer stretchin’ the truth.”

“Believe it or don’t,” she said with a smile, “but I’ll have you know that there are many mares that have their eyes on you. And I do mean many mares.” She gave him a wink before walking back to her drafting table, and left Macintosh to stare after her. He finally shook his head with a small smile. That mare sure knew how to press his buttons. He had to hand it to her, she was really laying it on thick this time.

He decided against a comeback, and simply continued the topic at hand. “Ah just don’t belong in Canterlot with all those sophisticated ponies.”

“Nonsense,” she said, perusing her fabrics. “Canterlot isn’t some exclusive club where ponies either belong or do not.”

“Sure it is,” Mac said. “Ain’t nothing wrong with that. Some ponies are more comfortable on the farm, an’ some are more comfortable in Canterlot. Ah’m a farmer, yer more high class. That’s just the way it is.”

“I see,” Rarity said, “and what makes me more high class?”

Macintosh shrugged. “Ah dunno. Ya like good clothes, and you speak really well. Heck, Ah bet ya know more than one word for blue. Yer sharp as a tack, ya walk like the ground is made outta fine crystal that ya don’t wanna scratch, yer really pretty, and you can hold yer own when yer talkin’ with other high class ponies like at the art viewing.”

Rarity returned to his front with a swatch of soft fabric in a pale tan color. She pinned it to his chest with her hoof and examined the contrast of hues carefully.

“Listen to me, Macintosh,” she said without looking up from the cloth. “I know Canterlot may seem like a different world from Ponyville, and I can’t even imagine how different it must be from the farm, but…” she trailed off and levitated away the swatch to bring another on his chest, this one made of a much coarser material and colored a pale yellow. “It’s hard to put into words.” She gave him a small smile though her voice became quiet. Macintosh was caught off-guard by the sudden change of atmosphere. He didn’t say anything, holding a small desire for her to go on.

“Do you know what I did when I first met Fancy Pants?” she asked. He didn’t have time to think of an answer before she gave it to him. “I lied through my teeth in order to make a good impression. I thought that you would do the same when he asked you about the painting. Do you remember that? When he asked your opinion I was sure you would say something vague and general, just as I did. Instead you spoke your mind. Even when the whole room erupted in laughter you kept your composure and stood your ground.”

Rarity sighed and placed yet another swatch of fabric on his chest, this one a simple white. “I don’t think walking daintily or knowing the names for different shades of a color automatically makes a pony elegant and sophisticated. Neither does speaking or dressing well. That can all be learned. I would be hard pressed, however, to teach a pony how to stay collected when an entire room is against her.”

The room stood in an uncomfortable silence for a few long seconds, and Macintosh rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to think of a way to lighten the unbearable tension weighing him down. “Maybe Ah was just too dumb to know better,” he offered with a half-hearted smile.

She smiled back just as weakly. “Or perhaps too stubborn.” Levitating the cloth away from him, Rarity went back to her table to tease out a few more details. Macintosh exhaled softly in relief. He had no idea Rarity had been watching him so closely when they went to the art viewing. Looking back, he wondered if he would do the same now. He felt so different from the stallion that went to that art museum. He wondered if that was a good thing.

-*-

Applejack and Big Macintosh placed the last few baskets of apples into the wagon. The letter from Fancy Pants had told the Apple family that most of the basic supplies would be provided: flour, eggs, and most every fruit and vegetable they would need to make a variety of hors d'oeuvres. Even so, Applejack insisted on bringing a few baskets of apples and a bit of their own supplies along with them.

Macintosh stopped fumbling with the tie around his neck to take a look at the apples. “’Bout the last of last season,” he said.

“Uh-huh,” Applejack said. “Lasted longer than last year. With any luck we’ll run out right when the new crop comes in.”

With the loading done he brought his attention to his undone tie. Trying to manipulate the fabric proved maddening. The smell of sugar and vanilla didn’t help his concentration either.

Applejack laughed as she watched him. “Fancy get-up ya got there, big brother.”

A grunt was his only response. Truth be told he rather liked the clothes Rarity made for him. It was a simple fawn color with his tie, cufflinks, and handkerchief all in a bright shade of copper. Though right now all he was wearing was a white dress shirt and the tie Rarity had given him. He remembered a long time ago when one of his great uncles rambled on and on about how unicorns conspired to oppress earth ponies by inventing things only their magic could effectively hold and manipulate. Mac wondered if ties were such an invention.

“Big Macintosh Apple, what in Equestria are you doing to that poor cravat?” Mac’s head shot up at Rarity’s stern voice. Sure enough he saw the dressmaker coming toward them wearing her saddlebags as a plastic wrapped dress hovered several feet away from the dirt. She wasted no time in enveloping his tie in light blue magic and quickly knotting it in place. “There,” she said with a smile.

“Miss Rarity, Ah thought we were gonna meet up at the train station,” Mac said. He lifted a hoof to examine the tie only for her to quickly bat it away.

“I know, I know, but just as I was about to get dressed I decided to take one final chance to make sure everything was absolutely perfect. I still haven’t seen how our outfits look together.”

Big Mac rolled his eyes, but didn’t bother to mention the hours Rarity spent making sure the colors matched perfectly. Applejack chuckled quietly before looking around the farm.

“Pinkie should’ve been here by now,” Applejack said.

“She’s here,” Mac said.

“He’s right,” Pinkie added as she poked her head out of the supplies on the wagon.

“Hey there, Pinkie,” Applejack said, her greeting mixing in with Rarity’s. The farm mare looked around for a few seconds before coming back to her newly arrived friend. “Where’s all that sugar ya wanted ta bring?”

“I already put the sacks in the wagon,” Pinkie said as she bounced down onto solid ground.

“Sacks?” Applejack asked. She examined the wagon’s contents once again. There were indeed a few new bags that neither she nor Big Mac had loaded. “How much did ya bring?”

“One sack of each type,” Pinkie said. “Granulated, brown, powdered, vanilla, and raw.”

Macintosh shook his head with a smile and a quiet chuckle. “Ah’m gonna go back to my room an’ finish up gettin’ dressed,” he said to the three of them. Applejack nodded to signal that she heard him, and went back to Pinkie to ask if they really needed so much sugar. Satisfied, Mac headed to the farmhouse with Rarity close beside him. Before he could ask why she was following him, Rarity preemptively provided an answer.

“If you dress yourself as well as you can tie a cravat then I’m surprised you can manage to put on your harness every morning,” she said, eyeing his bare neck. “Except for this morning, apparently. Besides, I’d like the chance to style your mane since Celestia knows you won’t do it yourself.”

Big Mac took her comment silently in stride, and paid no more attention to the mare. There really was no point in insisting that he could dress himself just fine.

“So Macintosh,” Rarity said, pressing her side against his. “What-”

“Did you travel when you were a filly?” Macintosh interrupted as he opened the door to the farmstead for her.

Rarity was taken aback for a few moments, but soon thanked him and ascended the stairs without any prodding. “A little bit I suppose. Though I didn’t have as many opportunities as I do now. Which room is yours?” she asked. Her eyes scanned the doors that led to the Apple family’s bedrooms, as well as a guestroom and bathroom. Macintosh didn’t speak. He only walked to his bedroom door and entered.

“My it certainty is…cozy,” she remarked as her head swiveled from his bed to his nightstand and then toward the other side of the wall where she glanced over the solitary shelf holding his Miss Smartypants doll. Her eyes crept to the hook that held his harness, and she took a few hesitant steps forward. Macintosh was a bit surprised to see a bit of red tinting her cheeks. “It’s much neater than what I was expecting. Not that I was expecting you to be messy, but well…I’m not sure what I was expecting.”

“Didn’t expect ya to be nervous about goin’ into my room,” Macintosh said.

Rarity scoffed. “Well, I don’t know what you must think of me to imagine that I would be perfectly comfortable when entering a stallion’s bedroom.”

“Ah didn’t mean anythin’ like that,” he quickly said. “It’s just that if things were switched around and I was goin’ into your room Ah wouldn’t be so nervous.”

“Oh believe me, Macintosh,” Rarity said while laying her dress and saddlebags on the bed, “you would be. Now let’s get started. Where’s the rest of your suit?”

Macintosh pointed to a corner of the room toward a small door, cut out of the wall. Its natural wood color blended perfectly with the rest of the room. If it weren’t for the bronze handle it would be close to impossible to notice its presence at all. Rarity had no qualms with opening his closet and levitating his suit jacket gently on his bed. Though the closet seemed intent on holding her interest.

Rarity looked from the open door to Macintosh. With a small smile he waved a foreleg toward the closet, silently giving it up for her close examination. She gladly took the opportunity and inspected its trifle offerings.

The suit and harness Macintosh wore at the art viewing some months ago hung on a rack right beside his Nightmare Night costume. It held her attention for a few seconds until she levitated out the black coat and hat.

“I never would have expected you to wear something so flamboyant,” Rarity said, eyeing every dart and seam carefully.

Macintosh shrugged. “Ah liked it.”

“I’ll have to keep this in mind when creating your next outfit,” she said while hanging the costume back to its place. As she did, her eyes caught sight of a trunk taking up most of the floor inside the closet. “What’s in there?”

“Open it if ya want,” Mac said while putting on his jacket, “ain’t no big secret if that’s what yer hopin’ for.”

She scoffed at his accusation but still opened the trunk. She stared at its contents for a few seconds, and finally levitated the only two items inside: a small harness that greatly resembled the one Macintosh wore, and a thick wooden box with a windup key sticking out of its side.

“Ah’m only gonna talk about one thing,” Macintosh warned as Rarity opened her mouth. The unicorn looked back and forth at both objects, until reluctantly placing the box back inside the chest and holding the harness closer to the stallion.

“Is this yours?” Rarity asked.

“Eeyup,” Mac said. His focus was kept on his chest pocket as he tried to straighten his handkerchief. “Made it myself.”

“It’s so adorable,” Rarity said with a giggle, “but why is it so worn?”

Mac stared at her as if she had grown another horn. “Because Ah wore it,” he said.

Rarity rolled her eyes, “Well obviously, but why is it so scratched and pitted.” She stared at the small harness, and her eyes crept to the larger one hanging on its nail. “You didn’t wear it for work, did you?”

“Why else would Ah wear it?” Macintosh asked, straightening his cufflinks.

“Well, I imagined that you wanted to emulate your father and made this harness to wear just like him. I can’t imagine you working with this, I could imagine Sweetie Belle fitting into this.”

“First off, Miss Rarity, my dad never wore that harness,” Macintosh said as he nodded toward his yoke, “my mom did. Second, Ah was a bit older than Sweetie Belle when I started workin’. Ah was small for my age back then.”

Rarity didn’t seem to listen. She had dropped the little harness from her magic and held it in her hoof. She turned it over and over, examining every insignificant curve and scratch.

“Rarity?”

She jerked her head up to meet his eyes. “Forgive me, Macintosh, I simply…couldn’t stop thinking of Sweetie Belle wearing this.”

“Ah can’t really see it suiting ‘er, but if ya think she’d like it then go ahead an’ take it,” Macintosh said.

Rarity levitated the harness back into the chest, closed its lid, and shut the closet door. “No, I don’t think it would suit her. Honestly, I don’t think anypony so young should wear it.”

Macintosh rubbed the back of his neck. Sure, he didn’t have the best fashion sense, but he didn’t think it was that bad.

-*-

The gentle breeze carried small white tufts of fluff across the park. Macintosh smiled as he watched them fly by. It almost seemed like snow in the middle of summer. A few of them landed on the lake’s surface and bobbed up and down in the gentle waves and ripples. What made the park all the better was the surprisingly small amount of ponies. It wouldn’t last, Macintosh knew. They had arrived early since Pinkie Pie and Applejack were catering the event. Still, he couldn’t help but notice a few familiar faces amongst the thin crowd. He was even glad to see a familiar mare with a cello slung across her back near the lake.

“Where is all this cotton coming from?” Rarity asked as she wiped her face free of the fluff.

Big Mac smiled. “Yer close, Miss Rarity. They’re seeds from a Cottonwood tree.” He looked up at the leaves of a nearby tree and, just as he expected, he spotted the wide, round leaves that tapered to a point. Chains of the white fuzz were tucked away amongst the green.

“Whatever it is it’s getting all over your mane,” Rarity said. She started picking out the white down, much to Mac’s annoyance. He could only stand and put up with her fussing. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of how long it had been since his last haircut. He got enough of that back at the farm when she was mussing up his mane. His tail had gotten longer as well, and unfortunately she hadn’t used her magic when she applied whatever product she had used on his mane. Thankfully he was able to talk her out of any elaborate styling. He didn’t care how curly stallions in Manehattan were wearing their tails, there were just some things he would never be willing to try.

Rarity, meanwhile, had done little with her mane and tail other than what she did daily. Her cream-colored dress had all the pleats and lacing he had expected from her, and yet it seemed almost plain for the fashion designer. It took him the length of the train ride to place it, but he finally realized what was bothering him. While the design had every bit the style that he expected from her, it lacked any of the color or sequined flare he had seen on the dresses worn by the Boutique’s mannequins.

“Something catch your eye, Macintosh?” Rarity asked with a smile, finished with plucking the seeds out of his mane.

He quickly looked away with a blush. “Ya look awfully pretty as always, Miss Rarity,” he said, carefully choosing his words so he wouldn’t offend her with his next statement. “Ah couldn’t help noticing that yer dress doesn’t look as…sparkly as what ya usually wear.”

“Well of course not, sweetie,” Rarity said. “We’re going as a couple so we dress like one. It wouldn’t do if one outfit overpowered the other.”

Macintosh nodded though didn’t quite understand. He didn’t ask her to elaborate. He didn’t think it would help. They stopped by the lakeside where a long table was dressed with flower-filled vases. Ponies were still dashing to the glass and silver stands interspersed throughout to set down bowls of fruit and plates of cheese. Macintosh watched them flitter back and forth in order to make sure everything was absolutely perfect, even turning a few grapes to properly reflect the sun to the empty center of the table.

Rarity tapped his shoulder and pointed toward a couple of unicorns levitating a larger-than-life ice sculpture of a unicorn stallion. They rested the sculpture at the table’s center and left it to glitter in the sun. The sculpture looked a bit familiar. Almost as if he had met the model. Mac couldn’t quite place it.

“Strange how stallions always enlarge certain parts of their bodies in works of art,” he heard a familiar voice say. “Horns for unicorns, wings for pegasus, and always the chest and hooves for any kind of pony. Though I suppose you’d no need of that, right Macintosh?”

“Howdy, Miss Octavia,” Macintosh said. She didn’t greet him or even look at him, but simply walked right to the table, her attention on the statue instead. He followed her eyes and looked at the ice a bit more closely. She was right. He didn’t think even Princess Celestia had a horn that long. The more he stared the more he started to notice a bit more incongruities with the form. The chest seemed much larger while the pony’s stomach and back end were just a bit too narrow.

“He’s really outdone himself this time,” Octavia said, her eyes lowering to stare at the sculpture’s base. A golden plaque was attached to the ice, and Macintosh leaned in to read the bold lettering:

Self

A Sculpture by Prince Vladimir Blueblood

Now he recognized who the statue was supposed to be.

“Looks like our good prince is playing at being an artiste,” Octavia said. She placed her cello on the ground and, once certain it wouldn’t fall over, turned to Macintosh and gave him a smile. “A pleasure to see you again, and I told you it’s simply Octavia.”

“You playing for the picnic?” he asked.

“What gave you that idea?”

“Ah had an inklin’,” Macintosh said with a smile.

Octavia smiled back. “I might have some free time before ponies start storming in full force.” She took a step toward him. “Perhaps we can-“ Rarity’s throat clearing interrupted her, and she stepped forward and pressed her side against Mac’s.

“Oh sorry,” Macintosh said. “Octavia this is Rarity, and Rarity this is Octavia.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Rarity said.

Octavia raised an eyebrow and examined her carefully. “The Element of Generosity, correct?”

“That’s right,” Rarity said with a proud smile. “In fact I-“

“Are you his wife?”

Rarity’s face turned a bright red. “N-no,” she said. She cleared her throat once again and tried to regain her composure. “I’m his date.”

“Good,” Octavia said with a smile, “then it looks like we’ll have to share.”

“Is that so?” Rarity asked, her voice coming low. “Well I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not the sort of mare to share a date.”

“Not very generous of you,” Octavia said with a sly smirk.

“Generosity has its limits,” Rarity said, returning with her own glare.

“Oh I suppose so,” Octavia said in the sweetest voice Mac only heard once before. “I imagine that your looks get you the rest of the way.” Macintosh held his breath, morbidly curious of the unicorn’s reaction.

Rarity’s glare softened and her face took on a pleasant smile. “Oh, well a mare does what she can. Though I must say I envy your ability to just roll out of bed, put on a such a badly pressed bowtie, and not even care.”

Octavia’s smirk seemed to vanish for just a split second before coming back in full force. “Sadly I’m simply too busy developing actual talent instead of staring into a mirror for hours on end.”

“Talent?” Rarity asked. She tilted her head and raised a hoof to her chin. “Oh yes, your cello. I remember hearing you play at the Grand Galloping Gala.” She shrugged. “Medium talent.”

For the first time Macintosh saw Octavia lose her smirk and glare at Rarity. “What did you say?” she asked, her voice coming dark.

“Me-di-um talent.”

“Why you little broo-“

“Hey that looks like a mighty fine table over there,” Macintosh interrupted. He pointed to a nearby table beneath the shade of a Cottonwood tree. “How ‘bout we sit down and talk away from the heat?”

“That sounds like a fine idea,” Octavia said. Her voice lost its dark quality and went back to being overly sweet. Mac didn’t think it much of an improvement. “Obviously we have much to discuss.”

“Yes, we do,” Rarity added, giving Mac a sideways look that was not at all comforting to see. Macintosh swallowed, and wondered what in the heck he got himself into. He led the way to the table, and the mares made sure to stand on either side of him. A deathly silence followed them until they each sat beneath the shade.

“Nice to see ya again, Octavia,” Macintosh said, eager to break the tension engulfing the three.

“Same,” Octavia said. “It’s a shame you didn’t come alone.”

“I invited him,” Rarity said, “he wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me.”

Macintosh wished for the insufferable tension would just evaporate. If only they would solve their problem the way Apples did: with yelling and fighting and perhaps a bit of drinking if it was during a family reunion. Anything had to be better than bearing this undercurrent of dislike. Even now the mares were glaring at each other silently, waiting for one to speak so that the other could rebut. Finally, a shining light appeared in the form of a familiar regal voice.

“Apple, can’t I go to one gathering in Canterlot without running into you?”

Macintosh released the breath he didn’t know he had been holding in. He actually smiled before turning to face the prince. “Blueblood, thank Celestia yer here.”

Blueblood flicked his blond mane. “How I wish I could share in your joy, but a farmer in the presence of a prince can’t feel the same as a prince in the presence of a farmer. However, I am the co-organizer along with Fancy Pants, so it is my duty to greet our many distinguished guests…and you.”

Octavia coughed and caught Blueblood’s attention. “Ah, Blueblood, I’m actually glad you’re here as well.”

“Is that so?” Blueblood said, narrowing an eye in suspicion.

“Yes, I actually have some pent up frustrations that I would like to vent. So where should we start? Shall I begin by pointing out how your miserable attempt at self-sculpture reveals an effort to overcompensate for a certain physical deficiency, how your ego is so gigantic it could block out the sun, the moon, and most of the sky, or shall I just skip the pleasantries and simply imply your homosexuality?”

“Don’t insult my sculpture. I worked for hours on it.”

“So sorry,” Octavia said. “I’m sure your throat is still sore from barking orders at the ponies who ‘helped’ you.”

Blueblood scoffed, his face getting redder by the second. When he spoke, the words came slowly and carefully. “Well, I see I’m not welcomed here. Fine, I’ll leave you in peace. I just wanted to say, on behalf of Fancy Pants and myself, please enjoy our picnic.” With that and another flick of his mane, he left their table. Mac’s eyes followed him as he headed off to the far side of the lake.

“I feel much better,” Octavia said, and judging by her genuine smile Mac knew she was telling the truth.

“As much as I feel that was uncalled for,” Rarity said, “I couldn’t help but enjoy it a little.”

“Ah thought it was a bit harsh,” Mac said. “Looked to me like he was actually gonna break into tears.” Despite his objection, Macintosh had to admit that he was glad the mares didn’t want to go at each other’s throats anymore. At least now the three had something to talk about.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Octavia said, “he doesn’t have feelings. And if you ask me, I thought I treated him exactly as he deserved to be treated. I’m sure Rarity agrees with me. She’s had the most experience with him, I believe.”

“I, well,” Rarity said, caught off guard, “I suppose it was a bit harsh, but I can’t say I regret Octavia’s actions. No offense to Blueblood but it seems that whenever I spend time with him it always ends…less than ideal.”

“I can imagine,” the cellist said with a smirk.

“A little maturity please, Octavia,” Rarity said, scowling.

“A little fun please, Rarity,” Octavia responded.

“What do you two got against Blueblood anyway?” Macintosh asked.

“You know me, Macintosh, I don’t hold a grudge,” Rarity said, “but it doesn’t seem like he’s putting much effort to change ever since that fiasco at the Grand Galloping Gala. It’s almost as if he doesn’t even realize his behavior needs to change.”

“What about you, Octavia?” Macintosh said. “What do you got against him?”

“You mean besides the fact that he’s an arrogant ninny that thinks he rules everything the light touches and thus is allowed to treat everypony like something a dog excreted?” Octavia said.

“Eeyup?”

“No reason,” Octavia said. “Just know that me and Blueblood have never known each other that well, and in fact we would never run into each other if we didn’t belong to the same circles. But the prince’s actions and decisions have far reaching consequences, something that Blueblood hasn’t gotten through his thick, filly-haired, skull. Now can we please change the subject? You’re making me regret spending time with you.”

“Fair enough,” Mac said, positive that pushing the subject wouldn’t get him anywhere. “What would ya like to talk about?”

“Actually, as much as I enjoy the company, I need to find my quartet and begin rehearsing. It’s beginning to get crowded.” Octavia stood and slung her cello case around her back. Macintosh and Rarity said their goodbyes, which Octavia returned.

“You need any help carryin’ yer cello?” Mac asked.

“No, I’m fine, but if you decide to actually enjoy yourself today feel free to find me.” She gave him a wink, and sauntered off. Big Mac couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“The nerve,” Rarity scoffed. “I don’t know what you see in her.”

“She’s sure of herself,” Macintosh said. “Whenever Ah’m around ‘er Ah feel like this is a mare that knows what she wants, knows how to get it, and ain’t afraid to tell ponies to get outta her way.” A smile crept onto his face as a soft chuckle escaped him. “If she wanted to Ah’d bet she’d make a better farmer than me.”

“If you ask me she and Prince Blueblood have more in common than either would like to admit,” Rarity said.

“Ah guess Ah could see that, though Ah think Blueblood might be prettier,” Macintosh said. His joke managed to grab a small smile from Rarity. “You hungry? Ah could get some food for us.”

“Actually I am rather famished,” Rarity said. She looked over at the table with the ice sculpture. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, sweetie, I’d like something a bit more substantial than grapes and cheese.”

Macintosh stood up. “Ah’ll walk around an’ see if they put out any other food. Ah’m sure Applejack and Pinkie Pie managed to make a few things.”

“Don’t be long,” Rarity said with a smile. “I’d like to start enjoying myself.”

Macintosh nodded and walked off to find some food. Looking around, he saw that most of the tables were arranged in a circle concentric to the lakeside. Every couple of dozen yards or so he would find a new one, dressed almost exactly the same as the one he first saw minus the ice sculpture. Each one had a few empty plates where food would surely go once it was ready.

As he walked around the park, Macintosh noticed how many more ponies had appeared since he and Rarity arrived. Everywhere he looked there were ponies conversing at tables set up beneath a canopy of leaves. A few croquet sets had been brought out, and several unicorns were rolling colorful balls through wickets. Mac could even see a large putting green in another far off part of the park.

Thankfully, the park stretched for several acres, so Mac could breathe easy. It wasn’t at all like the dessert competition where he could barely move without grazing sides with someone.

The lake wasn’t too big around, and so he arrived at the other side rather quickly. Finally he saw a couple of well suited ponies place a few trays of food onto a nearby table. The clink of metal platters garnered the attention of other ponies, and Mac knew that he’d have to get at it quick before there was nothing left.

By the time he got to the table, a mare with an orange and gold mane and wearing a blue pressed jacket was already piling tarts and slices of apple pie onto a plate. Mac didn’t have to see her face to realize who it was.

“Howdy there, Miss Spitfire,” he said as he stood next to her and started making his own plate.

Spitfire turned her head with a cherry tart in her mouth. She quickly put it back on her plate. “Hey there, Mac. Didn’t expect to see you here. And just call me Spit, all my friends do.”

“Sure,” Mac said. “Soarin here too?”

“Nah, these gigs aren’t really his thing. He’s back in Cloudsdale training with the rest of the Bolts,” Spitfire said. “You here with Rainbow Dash?”

Mac shook his head, and wondered if Dash ever told her the truth about their relationship. He didn’t want to face the awkwardness of setting things straight now. If she asked then he would answer. No need to make things more complicated than that. “Ah’m here with Rarity. Ah don’t know if ya know her but-”

“Rarity? Sure I know her,” Spitfire said. She carefully placed her plate on her back, and Macintosh marveled at how she could keep the pile of pie, tarts, quiches, and cookies perfectly balanced. “I practically know everypony. You wouldn’t mind if I interrupt you two to say hi, would you?”

“Course not,” Mac said, placing his more modestly adorned plate on his back. “Heck, it’d be nice to have ya there.”

“Lead the way,” Spitfire said, and Mac gladly did. The two walked silently for a few seconds until she spoke up again. “You sure it’d be fine? I’m sure you two wouldn’t want a third wing around.”

“It’s fine,” Mac assured her. “Truth be told Ah’d like a third pony around.”

“Yeah? Why?”

Macintosh rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure if he should say or not. He didn’t exactly know Spitfire all that well. Then again, if there was anyone that could shine some light on the situation it would be Spitfire. “Soarin told me back in Cloudsdale that before you two got together y’all were just friends. Ah think he called it the friend zone.”

“Oh, it’s one of those things,” Spitfire said with a sagely nod. “You and Rarity, huh? Who’s doing it to who?”

“Ah wouldn’t go that far,” Mac said with a blush. “Heck, for all Ah know Rarity might just be having a bit of fun with flirtin’ with me. But sometimes Ah wonder if...”

“If she wants something more,” Spitfire finished for him. Mac nodded. “Would that be so bad?”

“She’s my friend,” Mac said, “and she’s one of my little sister’s best friends.”

“I get it,” Spitfire said. “So on top of the whole ‘don’t wanna ruin the friendship’ thing you also got a ‘don’t want my little sister to hate me’ thing. It’s a tough spot to be in, but this sorta thing doesn’t come easy. Sometimes the rewards outweigh the risks, and when that happens you gotta go for it.”

“How do ya know when that happens?”

“I’m a daredevil, knowing that comes naturally for me. I can’t tell you whether to go for it or not, I don’t know your feelings and I don’t know Rarity’s,” Spitfire said. “Though I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s thought about this as much as you.”

“When did ya decide to be with Soarin?” Macintosh asked. “Was it when he wrote that love letter for ya?”

“No,” Spitfire said. “I actually didn’t see the letter, by the time I finally noticed it the wind had moved the clouds around. But he was just so eager to impress me that I lied and said I did. No offense to the guy, but I was never the kind of mare to swoon over big over-the-top acts of romance, you know? I just sorta...knew it was right.” Macintosh quirked an eyebrow to the mare, and Spitfire hummed in thought. “It’s like doing a feint. If I rely on my head to tell me when to pull up I’m just going to do it too soon. Not as dramatic to a crowd. I have to rely on my gut. A feeling that lets me know it’s the right time.”

Macintosh nodded. “I get it.”

“So what’s your gut telling you?” Spitfire asked.

Mac chuckled. He thought it was a bit too personal, so he simply told her what he was comfortable with. “To keep things from gettin’ too complicated.”

“Good luck,” Spitfire said with a smile. “Life’s complicated. Thank goodness for flying. I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t get in the sky, feel the wind blow through my feathers, and let my mind go blank.”

Macintosh gave her a nod. “What would ya do if ya couldn’t?”

Spitfire stopped dead in her tracks, and Mac had to take a few steps back to keep next to her. “Geez Mac, you don’t have to be such a downer,” she said while getting back into her pace.

“Ah didn’t mean to be,” Mac said. “Ah was just curious.”

“To be honest I don’t know what I’d do,” Spitfire said. “Flying is something I can’t live without. I think I might go crazy. Like, imagine something you can’t live without doing, and then imagine what’d it be like if you couldn’t do it anymore.”

Macintosh nodded. “Ah think Ah’d go crazy too.” Soon Rarity appeared in the distance. She stood a bit away from the table and surrounded by ponies that all seemed eager to talk to her. Macintosh couldn’t help but notice how gracefully she gestured her hoof as she talked to them. She would speak and then the others would break into laughter. It all seemed to come so easily to her. She suddenly saw Macintosh and Spitfire, and politely excused herself from the crowd. The three joined up at the table.

“Brought some food, Rarity,” Mac said while placing the plate onto the table next to Spitfire’s. “And company,” he added.

“Hello, Spitfire,” Rarity said before grabbing a quiche. “A pleasure to see you again.”

“Same here,” Spitfire said. “Thought I’d stop by to say hi. So how are you enjoying the picnic so far?”

“The park is beautiful, and quite a few ponies are interested in buying some dresses,” Rarity said, “but I’m afraid my mood has been a bit dampened by a mare named Octavia.”

“The cellist?” Spitfire asked.

“That’s right,” Rarity said, surprised. “Do you know her?”

“Sure, she’s a friend of mine.”

“Really?” Rarity said. “If you don’t mind me asking, how do you...put up with her?”

Spitfire laughed. “Yeah, she’s got a mouth on her. I remember when I first met her she asked a pretty personal question about me, Soarin, and a cloud five thousand two hundred and eighty feet in the air.”

“Weren’t you offended?” Rarity asked.

“What? By Octavia? Nah,” Spitfire said with a smile. “I just laughed and gave her a friendly punch on the shoulder. After she stopped swearing I apologized and we’ve been friends ever since.”

Rarity shook her head. “Well I was. I just can’t imagine ever calling her a friend.”

“Take it easy,” Spitfire said with a smile. “Sometimes you make the best friends by swallowing your pride a little. Take me and Soarin for example. We met at our first preliminary tryouts. We both screwed up, and he offered to teach me how to do sharper turns if I taught him how to get better acceleration. Back then, if you wanted to offend me all ya had to do was critique my flying, but I thought he was kind of cute so instead of acting all high and mighty I decided to take his offer. Years later, we’re both better flyers for it and we’re as close as any couple.”

“That’s a very sweet story,” Rarity said, “but it’s entirely different from me and Octavia.”

“She’s not all bad,” Spitfire said. Suddenly the sound of far-off strings drifted lazily to their table, and all three ponies looked in the same direction. “You just can’t take what she says personally. I’ll tell you what, how about we go and watch her perform. She’s her best when she’s playing the cello.”

“I don’t know Spitfire,” Rarity said. “Perhaps I should simply let it go.”

“Aw c’mon,” Spitfire said. “You won’t even have to talk to her. Trust me, once you see her play the cello you’ll see her in a new light. Seeing a pony in their element is the best way to see what they’re all about.” Rarity didn’t say anything, so she continued. “If I could help one pony understand another I’d consider it my good deed for the day.”

“Well when you put it that way I suppose it would be rather wrong of me not to try,” Rarity said with a sigh.

“That’s the spirit. You can come too, Mac,” Spitfire said.

“Ah think Ah’ll join ya a little later, Ah gotta go to the little colts room,” Mac said.

“Do hurry,” Rarity said. “I’d feel better if you were there.”

Macintosh nodded, and the three went their separate ways. Truth be told he wasn’t looking for a bathroom, not that it was a particularly clever excuse to separate from the group. Spitfire’s words got him thinking about Prince Blueblood. Perhaps, much like Rarity and Octavia, all the two really needed to get along was to know each other better. The least Macintosh could do was reach out and meet the prince halfway. Besides, he felt that Octavia had been too harsh to him, and he wanted to apologize.

Before going on the search, Mac decided to quickly head for one of the tables laden with treats. He would need all the help he could get with this, and if there was any pony that could still be mean when given a slice of apple pie, well, that was a pony he didn’t want to bother with.

With a plate of apple pie on his head, Macintosh scanned the park for any sign of the prince. He finally saw him standing under the shade of a Cottonwood tree, quietly watching the white fuzz drift to the ground. Mac walked over to him, and Blueblood’s face hardened as he saw who approached.

“What in the world do you want, you hick?” he asked.

He ignored the insult. “Ah just came by ta see how you were doin’,” Macintosh said, lowering his peace offering to the ground and pushing it toward Blueblood. “Ah thought Octavia was pretty mean to ya and Ah wanted to apologize for her.”

“I don’t need your pity, you inbred hillbilly,” Blueblood spat, “so why don’t you take your peasant dish, leave me alone, and go back to your dirty little farm where you belong. Do you need directions? You look too stupid to remember the way back.”

Mac furrowed his eyebrows and glared at the prince. “Ah don’t like being called names, Blueblood.”

“What are you going to do about it?” the prince asked, standing and stepping forward to return Mac’s glare. “Call me a frilly-haired, arrogant ninny like everypony else?”

Big Mac took a deep breath, and forced himself to calm down. “No Blueblood. Ah ain’t that mean, and if a pony had come to see how Ah was feelin’ and brought me a slice of apple pie Ah would’ve at least said thanks,” he said, taking back the slice of pie. To his surprise, Blueblood took a step back and sighed despondently.

“Just leave me alone, Apple,” he said. Macintosh nodded and left the prince to his thoughts.

At least he had tried. Maybe some ponies were never meant to be friends. If Blueblood didn’t want anything to do with Mac then that was just fine. The stallions could go their separate ways and try to stay out of each other’s business. Hopefully Rarity would have better luck with Octavia.

Speaking of which, he supposed he should go find the others. Some gentle music would do much for his mood. He followed the sound of strings and, after apologizing to a group of ponies after walking into their croquet field, managed to find a rather large group of ponies standing around a raised platform where a string quartet played.

He soon found Rarity and Spitfire toward the back of the crowd, and managed to squeeze right next to them and placed his plate of apple pie beside him. Before he could say a greeting, Spitfire placed a hoof on her lips to keep him silent and pointed to Rarity. To his surprise, she actually had a smile on her face. Following her gaze, he understood why.

Spitfire had been right. Octavia in her element revealed much about her. Her eyes were shut as she felt her way up and down her cello’s neck. She stood tall and proud and completely at peace. She seemed almost regal. They stayed there listening to song after song for a couple of hours until Octavia announced a lengthy intermission.

“That was actually very delightful,” Rarity said as the quartet began to tweak their instruments and the crowd around them began to thin. Macintosh took a deep breath as he finally felt released from the crowd.

“I knew you’d like it,” Spitfire said with a smile. “So are ya ready to talk to her?”

“Let’s not rush into things,” Rarity quickly said. “Although, I suppose if she wished to sit at our table I wouldn’t mind. Of course I don’t know how we’ll ever persuade her to do so.”

“So if Ah invite her to sit with us at the table ya wouldn’t mind?” Macintosh asked.

“Why would you do a thing like that?” Rarity asked.

“Cause Ah wanna spend time with her without feelin’ like Ah gotta choose sides,” Mac said. “No better way to do that than gettin’ you two on friendly terms.”

“I suppose I can understand where you’re coming from,” Rarity said reluctantly. “If you want to invite her then I won’t mind. However, perhaps you could talk to her about... keeping the peace?”

Macintosh smiled. “Ah’ll talk to her.”

“Who knows,” Spitfire interjected, “this might be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. We’ll wait for you guys back at the table.” Rarity nodded in agreement and the two mares headed back the way they came. Macintosh, meanwhile, grabbed the plate of apple pie and headed for the platform.

Octavia and three other ponies warmed up their instruments, sometimes turning a peg to finely tune the strings just right. Octavia looked up from her cello and noticed Macintosh. She gave him a smile and beckoned him over.

“Got time to talk?” Macintosh asked.

“Does this mean you choose me over Rarity,” Octavia asked with a smirk.

Macintosh returned it. “It means Ah enjoy yer company and Ah wanna talk to ya.”

“In that case, I need to stay and rehearse,” she said.

Mac placed the apple pie on the ground. “Ah brought some food to tempt ya with.”

Octavia leered at the plate, and turned her head away from it. “Sorry, but I’m afraid your apple pie has ruined me for others. I hope you’re happy.”

“It’s my sister’s recipe,” Mac said, more than ready to defend Applejack’s baking, “pretty much the same thing except for an ingredient or two.”

“That ingredient or two makes all the difference.”

“Pretty please,” Mac said, giving her his best smile. “For me?”

Octavia chuckled before addressing the other musicians. “Start rehearsing Quartet Number Sixty-Two in C major. I’ll be right back.”

“Cocky of you to skip rehearsal,” one of the violinists said, a cream colored mare with a purple mane striped in a lighter hue.

“Symphony, the day I make a mistake is the day Princess Celestia presents herself to me in a translucent gossamer gown much too short for her. If I were you, I would spend less time questioning me and more time trying to remember that the second movement’s key signature changes to G major in cut time.”

Symphony responded with nothing but a glare before counting to four and leading the rest of the string quartet through the song.

“You’re lucky you’re so handsome,” Octavia said to Mac while settling her cello safely inside its case. She slung it across her back and began walking beside the lakeside. Macintosh didn’t hesitate to join her.

“Maybe Ah’m lucky yer so shallow,” Mac countered with a smile.

“If I was truly shallow I would be dating Blueblood right now, planning his ‘accidental’ death.” Macintosh quirked an eyebrow at her, which elicited another smirk from the cellist. “Arsenic in his food in almost insignificant doses given through years, perhaps decades. Practically untraceable except for the markings it leaves on the hooves. I would have to dispose of them separately.”

“Should Ah be worried that you know so much about that?” Macintosh asked.

“I read a lot of detective novels,” Octavia explained.

Mac chuckled and spent some time watching the white fluff fall onto the lake. The words he would say next had to be carefully chosen. “So,” he began, “Ah thought that you might like to join me at a table.”

“Will Rarity be there?”

“Eeyup.”

“Then I think I might need to go back and rehearse.”

“What do you got against her?” Macintosh asked.

“Nothing really,” Octavia said. “I feel she has something against me, and I’m sorry but I can’t be held responsible if she get’s offended by what I say. Besides, she called me medium talent. I simply can’t forgive that.”

“Should Ah remind ya that you were about ta call her the worst thing you could call a mare before Ah interrupted?” Macintosh countered.

“That’s exactly right. You interrupted. If I had finished my insult then we would be even. Since that wasn’t the case I’m afraid I can’t be around her without evening the score.” Macintosh groaned as he tried to think of what to say next. Before he could speak, however, Octavia continued. “Of course, there might be other ways to even the score.”

Macintosh narrowed his eyes at her, more than a little suspicious. “Like?”

“You give me a kiss,” Octavia said.

“How would that even things out?” Mac asked.

“It would give me something over her. Something I can hold over her head if she ever dares to call me a mediocre musician again. I can imagine it now. ‘Oh Octavia, you play the cello? I thought you were torturing a cat.’ Then I could simply respond with ‘I kissed your date. Our tongues flailed against each other like lovers in the throes of passion.’ That will shut her mouth.”

“Sorry Octavia,” Mac said, “but Ah don’t kiss mares so that they have a way to quiet one of my friends. Besides, Rarity was listening to ya and she was pretty impressed by yer playin’.”

Octavia’s eyes lit up. “Is that so? Maybe she has some taste after all.” She stopped walking and rubbed her chin for a moment. “I suppose if she apologizes then we can start with a clean slate.”

“Will ya try to pull a few punches when ya tease her?” Mac asked.

“One step at a time,” Octavia said.

Macintosh smiled, it was the best he could do. Hopefully things would work themselves out eventually.

“Need any help with yer cello?” he asked.

“Again, no.”

The two fell into an easy silence. The park had become much more crowded since he first arrived, and Macintosh was glad that he could stand with one side to the lake and the other to Octavia. He spotted a tree without many ponies around it and sat down beneath it right beside the lake. Octavia sat next to him, just close enough that their back legs touched each other gently. He didn’t mind. Closing his eyes for a minute he listened to the Cottonwood’s leaves, and he heard the sound of crashing waves. “Yer mighty sure about playin’ the cello, not even botherin’ to rehearse.”

Octavia smiled and her gaze seemed lost on the surface of the lake. “Macintosh, the cello is who I am. When I have a bow in my fetlock and when I play a suite or a sonata is when I am most sure of myself and my abilities. No pony can touch me, even criticize me. Not as a cellist and not as a pony. So yes, I am ‘mighty sure’ about playing the cello.”

Macintosh smiled, having seen her passion firsthand. He joined her in watching the lake. “What would you do if ya couldn’t play the cello anymore?”

Octavia blinked. “That depends. Have I conquered the world and now rule my subjects with an iron hoof?”

“Uh…nnope?” Mac said.

“Then suicide it is then.”

“Octavia!” he exclaimed, honestly surprised.

The cellist laughed. “It’s just a joke, Macintosh. Don’t take it so seriously. Actually I would pick up the violin, and when the soul-crushing humiliation of playing such a small, unsatisfying instrument proves too much then I would commit suicide.”

Macintosh shook his head. “Sometimes Ah don’t know if yer jokin’ or not.”

“Good,” Octavia said. “That way if I say something that offends you I can just say it was a joke.”

“Kinda strange that yer takin’ my feelings into consideration. Ya don’t seem to do that often for ponies.”

“I like you, so I’ll gladly filter myself a little. Though if you manage to get on my bad side then I can’t be held responsible for how you feel about what I say.”

Macintosh chuckled. “Deal.”

They laughed with each other and spent the next few minutes watching the seeds from the trees float and dangle in the wind. Macintosh idly wondered if throwing Octavia into the lake would get him on her bad side. It would be funny, though. Plus he’d like to see her reaction and see what kind of pony she was. Before he could think it through, however, a pony clearing their throat interrupted his thoughts.

Looking up, Macintosh was surprised to find Blueblood standing a few feet away. He wouldn’t make eye contact with either of them, and instead kept his eyes to the ground. Octavia was the first to stand and acknowledge him.

“Have you come to endure my words?” she asked.

Blueblood scoffed and raised his head. “I would like to speak with Apple in private.”

“Whatever you say to him you can say in front of me.”

For a moment Blueblood gritted his teeth until taking a deep breath to regain his composure. “Please.”

“It’ll be fine, Octavia,” Mac said, standing.

Octavia looked from Macintosh to Blueblood before giving the former a nod. “Make sure to call me if things escalate into a fight. I wouldn’t want to miss it. I suppose I should head over to the table where we first sat? Are you sure Rarity will apologize?”

“Eeyup, just make sure you ask nicely.”

“I’ll try.” Octavia gave him a smile, one that disappeared once she looked over at Blueblood. With a final pat on Mac’s side she went in the direction of the table, not bothering to look back.

“How do you do that?” Blueblood asked.

“Do what?” Mac answered with his own question.

“Make ponies like you,” Blueblood said. “Rarity and Fancy Pants at the museum, Octavia at the National Dessert Competition, the captain of the Wonderbolts at this very picnic. It’s not fair. I’m a prince, you’re just a farmer. They should be clamoring over themselves to be my friends.” The prince sighed and kicked at the dirt. “I don’t understand.”

Macintosh nodded. “Friendship’s a pretty weird thing, I’ll give ya that, but Ah’m pretty sure it’s got somethin’ to do with being nice to ponies. Heck, Blueblood, why do ya think ponies make friends in the first place? So they can get called mean names?” Macintosh couldn’t help but be reminded of Rarity and Octavia.

“Well…no,” he admitted, “but I’m a prince, certainly I’m allowed a bit of freedom in that regard. Think of all the connections I could provide.”

“Ah think yer gonna have a hard time makin’ friends if ya think that’s enough,” Mac said.

The prince scoffed. “I’ll have you know I have friends, Apple. I’m not some pitiful stallion left all alone in the world.”

“Prince Blueblood, there you are,” a voice called out to them. Macintosh looked and saw Fancy Pants coming toward the two. He couldn’t be too surprised at his presence. He did organize the picnic, after all.

“There’s one of them now,” Blueblood said with a smile. “Hello Fancy Pants, I just finished greeting the guests.”

“Good to hear,” Fancy Pants said before noticing the farmer, “Ah, Mr. Apple, wonderful to see you again.”

“Howdy, Fancy Pants,” Mac said.

“I’d like to thank Sweet Apple Acres for providing the catering.” Fancy Pants said. “The food is incredibly delicious.”

“No problem, it was our pleasure,” Mac said. “Though you should thank my sister and her friend for makin’ the food. Real masters in the kitchen, those two.”

“Uh, Fancy Pants?” Blueblood interrupted their conversation and took a step forward. “I was wondering, now that I finished greeting all the guests, I could have a bit of your time and show you the ice sculpture I made of myself.”

“Of course,” Fancy Pants said, “I’d be happy to see what you’ve made. Especially since you were so determined to have it displayed here. Would you like to join us, Macintosh?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said, “it’s right near where Rarity’s waiting for me anyway.”

“Perfect, I have yet to greet her,” Fancy Pants said.

Blueblood led the way to his ice sculpture while Macintosh and Fancy Pants walked beside each other a few feet behind the prince.

“Ya know,” Macintosh began, filling in the silence with a question he had been pondering, “Ah was kinda surprised when Ah found out that you were the one behind organizing the picnic.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t know,” Blueblood said, “but Fancy Pants is practically the social hub of Canterlot. If ponies gather within the city then it is most assuredly Fancy Pants that is behind it.”

Fancy Pants chuckled. “I suppose that is one perspective.”

“Must take up a lot of your time,” Macintosh said.

“It does, but I don’t mind at all,” Fancy Pants said. “You could say organizing social events is my hobby. Picnics, art viewings, charity events, auctions, that sort of thing. Canterlot is my playground and I enjoy sharing it with good friends.”

“Ah never thought of ya as the sort to do all that,” Macintosh said honestly.

Fancy Pants nodded. “Regrettably most ponies don’t. I know some ponies believe that all the wealthy do is lay about their yachts without a care in the world, but whether rich or poor a pony needs to belong somewhere. Don’t you agree?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said. “A pony needs to belong somewhere.”

“For me that place is the middle of a group of ponies, conversing, sharing ideas, sharing stories and common experiences. It’s what I most enjoy.”

Macintosh nodded, mulling over his words. Finally they had arrived at their destination, and Mac could see his table with Rarity, Spitfire, and even Octavia sitting and conversing peacefully. Rarity was the first notice and greet them.

“There you are, Macintosh,” Rarity said as the group of stallions approached Blueblood’s sculpture. Spitfire and Octavia soon joined her, and, for a moment, Macintosh didn’t know who he should introduce to whom. Thankfully the problem soon resolved itself.

“Lovely to see you again, Rarity,” Fancy Pants said, “and the same to you Spitfire and Octavia.”

“Hey there, Fancy,” Spitfire said.

“Fancy Pants.” Octavia offered her own greeting with a small bow of her head. She then addressed the farmpony. “Macintosh, you didn’t tell me you knew Fancy Pants,” she said. Macintosh only shrugged, not much in the mood to explain.

“If I could talk to you about my sculpture,” Blueblood said to Fancy Pants.

“In time, Blueblood,” Fancy Pants said happily, “but first let us sit down and converse. We have quite the interesting ensemble of ponies, wouldn’t interesting conversation surely follow?”

“I...” Blueblood hesitated.

“Yes, prince,” Octavia said with a smirk, “sit with us. It’s sure to be interesting. Then we could hear all about your art.”

Blueblood glared at Octavia. “I suppose if you insist,” he said through gritted teeth.

Fancy Pants didn’t seem to notice the percolating tension between the two, and gladly sat at the table. Thankfully, it was big enough to fit all of them, if a bit snug. Fancy Pants was the first to start off conversation and soon the table was abuzz with good humor, along with a few quips here and there. Macintosh was glad to see that Rarity and Octavia seemed to be getting along better, though noticed that they still sometimes slipped an insult beneath their pleasant conversation. It was better than nothing.

Try as he might, Macintosh couldn’t get too involved in talk. Distracted as he was by all the information he had gathered that day. Everybody needed a place to belong to. For Spitfire it was the sky. For Rarity, the boutique. Octavia, the stage. Fancy Pants, the social circles of Canterlot. Macintosh...nowhere.

No, he had a place. He had the farm, he had his family. At least, until Applejack took it away. Was that really fair? Didn’t he deserve to have a place to belong to? Who was Applejack to say what was best for him? Wasn’t he the eldest? Wouldn’t he know what would be best for himself?

Oh, what was he thinking? Applejack was doing all this because she cared about him, because she was worried for him. How could he possibly work on the farm when all it would do was make Applejack sad and angry because of him. Still, he needed to talk to her, and really find out if this was okay. Could Applejack really take care of the whole farm by herself? Sure she was looking out for him, but, even if he was working too hard, he couldn’t just take an extended break at the farm without knowing for sure his family could hold up okay without him.

“Macintosh, are you feeling alright?” Fancy Pants asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You have been awfully quiet.” The rest of the table looked at his direction, and he wondered if he ever felt more self conscious.

“Ah’m fine,” Macintosh quickly said when an idea suddenly came to him. “Actually, Ah really need to tell my little sister somethin’. Do you know where the catering kitchen is?”

“Of course,” Fancy Pants said and pointed in a direction that led away from the lake. “If you keep that way you’ll soon find a large white tent. That’s where the kitchen is, and your sister.”

“Much obliged,” Mac said, standing. With a quick trot he made his way to the caterer’s tent. He kept telling himself over and over again that he just wanted to be sure. That he was keeping his family’s best interests at heart. This wouldn’t just be another attempt to get back to work. He just wanted to know he could afford not to.

The white tent came into view and Macintosh thought about what he would say. He had to be tactful. As soon as Applejack even caught a whiff of him trying to get back in front of a plow she would shut down and block out all of his reasoning. Maybe if he acted as if he was going to ask what he should do now that he wouldn’t be working as much. That sounded like a good idea.

Stopping just outside the tent flap, Macintosh took a deep breath, steeled his nerves, and entered. Immediately he was overcome by the sweet aroma of baking treats.

“Hey Macky!” Pinkie Pie said before pushing a pan filled with quiches into an oven.

“Howdy, big brother,” Applejack said, busy stirring a bowl of batter. “You need anything?”

“Ah just want to talk to ya,” Mac said. Applejack didn’t say anything and only waited for him to continue. He took another deep breath and braced himself. “Ah wanted to ask ya, uh,” he paused for a split second as a sudden realization came to him. “What would ya do if you couldn’t work on the farm anymore?”

Applejack stopped stirring, and placed the bowl back on the table. She stared at its contents for a few seconds. “Pinkie, ya mind giving me and Mac a bit of time to talk.” For once, Pinkie didn’t say anything. She only gave her friend a nod and popped out of the tent.

Applejack walked around the table and toward her big brother. She placed a gentle hoof on his shoulder and sighed. “Ah know this is tough for ya, truth be told it’d be hard for me too, but ya know why Ah’m askin’ ya to lighten up yer workload, don’t ya?”

“Of course Ah do,” Mac said, “but it just feels like Ah’m just passin’ the work off to you. That ain’t what a big brother’s supposed to do. A big brother’s supposed to make sure that his little sisters are happy, an’ Ah think you’d be happier if we went back to how things were. You playin’ with yer friends while Ah took care of the farm so you didn’t have to worry about it.”

“Mac, what’ll make me happy right now is knowin’ that my big brother is takin’ it easy for a while. It ain’t like ya ain’t doin’ anything around the farm. You still got yer chores, just not as much.”

“Ah know,” Big Mac said, “but are ya sure you can handle all that farm work?”

“Course Ah can,” Applejack said with a wide smile. “This is your sister Applejack, remember? The loyalest of friends and the most dependable of ponies.”

“The last time ya said that ya sent half of Ponyville to the clinic,” Mac said dryly.

“Doesn’t make it any less true, big brother,” Applejack said happily.

“If ya say so,” Mac said. “But Ah still ain’t got anything to do with all that time Ah used to spend on the farm. What would you do?”

“Me?” Applejack asked. “Ah’d save Equestria.”

Macintosh chuckled. “Too bad we all can’t do that.”

“It ain’t no picnic,” Applejack said. “Mac, ya just gotta find something to do that you’ll love as much as workin’ on the farm. For me that’s spendin’ time with great friends. It could be like that for you too.”

“Ah guess so,” Macintosh said with a sigh. “Ah better get back to Rarity. She’s probably wonderin’ where Ah got to.”

“She confess her love to ya yet?” Applejack said with a smile.

“Nnope, and Ah don’t think she’s gonna do it today,” Mac said dryly. “Ah’ll see ya later, sugarcube.”

“See ya, Mac,” Applejack said with a wave goodbye. She went back to her mixing bowl and resumed stirring the ingredients. “If ya see Pinkie go ahead and send her in. Knowin’ that mare she’s probably taste testin’ a bunch of the treats we made.”

Macintosh gave her a small smile and stepped out into the warm, summer air. He didn’t see Pinkie Pie anywhere, and assumed that Applejack was right in her suspicions. Taking a deep breath of the fresh air, he headed in no particular direction.

Big Mac was glad that he was able to talk to Applejack, but a bit disappointed that nothing else had really changed. He still had the same featherweight workload, the same obnoxious amount of free time, and nothing to fill it with. Sure he could spend a bit of time with friends but nowhere close to take up every minute of boredom that was sure to overtake him.

Try as he might, he couldn’t help but allow his mood to fall. He wished he could figure everything out already. He idly wondered if life always had to be so complicated.

-*-

Macintosh didn’t know how long he wandered through the park, all he knew was that by the time he returned to the ice sculpture the sun hovered gingerly over the horizon. Blueblood was speaking to the gathered group about his sculpture only to be greeted by Octavia’s scathing critique.

“I put five entire hours into perfecting the form,” Blueblood said.

“You should have made it ten,” Octavia retorted.

Blueblood tried his best to ignore her. “Of course, I took some liberties with the proportions.”

“Some things aren’t meant to be liberated.”

This back and forth continued on for most of Blueblood’s talk until Fancy Pants noticed Macintosh approaching the group. “Ah! Mr. Apple, you’ve returned and in the nick of time as well.” Macintosh could only manage a nod and a weak smile. “Macintosh, what do you think of Prince Blueblood’s sculpture? You’re the authority on art.”

“Him?” Blueblood asked, completely appalled. “He’s less qualified to critique my sculpture than the damn cellist!”

“No need for that, Blueblood,” Fancy Pants said. “Go ahead, Macintosh.”

Mac sighed and looked up at the sculpture. He thought of getting it over with and agreeing with Octavia. The pained look on Blueblood’s face, however, made him reconsider. Poor guy, his hard work being scrutinized for every little flaw. He might be a pain in the neck, but he was a pretty good sculptor. It wasn’t like Mac could do any better. All he was good for was pulling a stupid plow.

“I think it’s social commentary,” Macintosh said. “When ya take everythin’ that ponies think make a stallion handsome and exaggerate ‘em like that, ya start realizin’ how silly it all looks.”

“That’s exactly right,” Blueblood quickly added. “I meant for the proportions to be...skewed.”

Octavia chuckled. “My, Macintosh, I didn’t know you were such a merciful critic.”

“Yeah, I had no idea you were into art,” Spitfire added. “Guess you learn something new everyday, huh?” She stretched her wings with a tired sigh. “Well, it was nice hanging out with all of you, but I gotta get back home and scrutinize a stallion of my own.” She flapped her wings and took to the air. Everyone else said their goodbyes, and Spitfire returned them before flying back home.

“It is rather late,” Fancy Pants said. “However, before I go I would like to talk to the two of you,” he said to Octavia and Rarity, “and ask for your services in another event I’m organizing.”

“Of course,” Rarity said, “another social gathering?”

Fancy Pants nodded. “A charity auction. We can discuss the details over some dessert. Shall we head to a table?” Octavia and Rarity agreed and the three left Macintosh and Blueblood alone to stare at the sculpture.

“I suppose you want me to thank you,” Blueblood said.

“Would be nice,” Macintosh said. Blueblood didn’t say anything and Mac reveled in the silence until a sudden thought came to him. “You really like sculpting, huh?” Macintosh asked.

Blueblood only shrugged. “It’s one of my many hobbies, like baking or reading. Simply something to pass the time.”

“Mind if Ah ask ya a question?”

“Apple, we’re conversing while staring out at a sunset over a lake, it’s too late to ask my permission to speak. Otherwise I would end this conversation now,” Blueblood said.

“Guess yer right.”

“I’m always right.”

“Except when yer wrong.”

Blueblood scoffed and glared at the farmer. “Are you going to ask your question or not?”

Big Mac chuckled quietly. “You got a hobby or anythin’ that means a lot to ya?”

“What do you mean?”

“Ah mean do ya have somethin’ that ya gotta do, or else life doesn’t seem so...worth it.”

Blueblood laughed loudly. “Don’t be an idiot, Apple. My life is always worth it. Besides, I much rather not be tied down to hobbies or work. It’s better that way.” Macintosh raised an eyebrow at the prince and he continued. “I wouldn’t expect a farmer like you to understand, but I suppose I should be generous enough to try and explain.”

Big Mac grunted his annoyance, but the prince ignored him. “I enjoy allowing my whims to go where they may and having the resources to fulfill them. It’s amazing how wonderful distraction is. I will read a book about a famous painter, for instance, and am suddenly struck by the desire to do better than him. Then I go to my painting studio and paint for an hour or two before getting bored and occupying my time with some other activity like sculpture or writing.”

“Don’t ya ever feel useless?” Big Mac asked.

“Of course not,” Blueblood answered. “I’m royalty, I serve no one but myself, and therefore I never feel useless. Amazing how much commoners value themselves in relation to their servitude of others.” Macintosh opened his mouth to disagree, but Blueblood never gave him a chance. “Believe me, Apple. A life of leisure and relaxation, of artistic and intellectual pursuits and self-improvement, is much more fulfilling than a life filled with whatever work you do on a pile of dirt you call a farm.”

Macintosh sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “You gave me a lot to think over.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Blueblood said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must be getting back home and start on my next artistic pursuit, and perhaps go for a midnight ride on my yacht.”

“You sure ya don’t wanna stay for a bit? Ah could talk to Octavia and tell ‘er to go easy on ya.”

“Nice of you to offer, but not on your life,” Blueblood said, walking away from the farmpony.

“See ya later, Blueblood,” Mac said to his back.

The prince turned and stared at Mac for a few long seconds, thinking intently about something. “I hope not,” Blueblood finally said, “but if we must meet again I suppose I could suffer through it.” He gave Mac a nod, and turned home.

Big Macintosh shook his head with a chuckle. Maybe he was being a bit optimistic, but he couldn’t help but feel that the good prince might be coming around. His thoughts were interrupted when he saw Pinkie Pie and his sister, hitched to the wagon, walking toward him and the other ponies. He could only watch as they came up to him.

“Hey Macky,” Pinkie Pie said with a wave of her hoof. “How did you like our food?”

“Tasty as always,” Mac said.

“Listen, Mac, before you ask Ah don’t need any help with the wagon,” Applejack said.

“Ah know,” Mac said. “If ya wanted my help you would’ve asked for it.”

Applejack tilted her head. “That’s, uh, right.” She stared at him for a few seconds before shaking off her disbelief. “Me and Pinkie are headin’ back to Ponyville, so enjoy the rest of the picnic.”

Macintosh sighed and nodded, and Applejack gave him a small smile. “Guess yer going to say bye to Rarity,” Mac said.

“Eeyup,” Applejack said, patting his shoulder. “Wanna come with?”

He chuckled. “Last thing Ah need is to listen to a couple of mares drag out a goodbye,” he said. “Ah’m gonna walk around the lake and take in the sights. Ah’ll see ya at home.” Applejack nodded and stepped forward to give her big brother a hug. Macintosh returned it, and wrapped a foreleg around her.

“Take care, Mac,” Applejack said while breaking the hug. With a last goodbye to Pinkie Pie, Big Macintosh walked past the two mares and started his walk around the lake.

The park was beginning to empty of ponies, much to Mac’s relief. Whole hectares of land were completely bare except for the grass and trees and the white fluff falling blissfully to the ground. He stopped to watch a few of the seeds drift into the lake before he lost sight of them. He sat down by the edge of the water, so close that the small ebb and flow of the waves lapped at his hooves.

The sun began its descent below the horizon, setting the lake on fire with orange and yellow colors that seem to meld into a blazing amalgamation that Big Mac couldn’t name, but he was sure Rarity could. It all reminded him of Paradise Loch. He couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not.

His thoughts were lost in the conversations of the day. What was he to do now? He blew out a long held breath to get his mane out of his face. He needed a haircut.

“Such a beautiful shade of saffron, isn’t it?” Rarity’s voice drifted over the almost-still water, and Mac’s ear twitched. The mare sat beside him and rested her head against his shoulder. From the corner of his eye, Macintosh saw a plate rest gently on the ground at his other side.

“I brought you some apple pie,” Rarity said.

“Thanks,” he said. “How’d talkin’ with Fancy Pants go?”

“It went well,” Rarity said. “Though after he left, me and Octavia started exchanging quips until she decided to get back to her quartet to finish her set. Though I have no idea who she plans to play to. I suppose she was hired to play for a certain amount of time whether or not ponies are actually listening.”

“How do ya like her?” Mac asked.

“Well,” Rarity trailed off and tapped her chin. “She’s very…outspoken, and I admire that, but I can’t help but feel as if I must always have my guard up. I simply can’t relax around her.”

“Ah’m sure she doesn’t mean ta make ya uncomfortable,” Mac said. Rarity narrowed her eyes in disbelief toward the stallion. “That uncomfortable,” he corrected himself. “It’s just like Spitfire said. Ya can’t take it all personally.”

“I’m fairly certain we’re talking about two different mares,” Rarity said with a chuckle. “I take it you like talking with her.”

“Eeyup,” he said quietly.

“Macintosh, I’ve been wondering. If you could only spend time with me or Octavia, who would you pick?”

“Neither,” Macintosh said. “My life’s complicated enough without adding a marefriend to it.”

“I never said marefriend,” Rarity said quickly.

“But you meant it.”

Rarity sighed. “Perhaps I did. Still, having one doesn’t necessarily mean it will complicate your life.”

“Having friends complicated my life,” Macintosh said, and he sighed deeply. “Now friends are all Ah got. Ah ain’t got much of a job, Ah ain’t got a farm, Ah hardly have a family. What good am I, Rarity, if there’s nothin’ for me to do, nopony Ah could be of use to. Might as well drown myself in this damn lake.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Rarity said. “Macintosh, sweetie, you always seem to rate yourself by how much work you do for others. There’s nothing wrong with that in-and-of itself, but when you value yourself solely for what you’re doing and not who you are then...well, you put yourself in a bad place.”

“Yer startin’ to sound like Twilight,” Mac remarked. “That all sounds nice enough, but it’s damn hard to figure out who ya are when ya spent yer whole life in front of a plow.”

“Not at all,” Rarity said. She raised her head from his shoulder. Seconds felt like minutes as the mare stared at the lake. “Look down, Macintosh. What do you see?”

“My hooves?”

“No,” she said, pointing at the water. “Tell me what you see in your reflection.”

Mac rolled his eyes but acquiesced. All he saw was what he always saw: a pony with half-open eyes and a neutral frown. The only thing different was his lack of a harness and a suit that he didn’t want to make a habit of wearing. His mane was a bit too long, and he looked a bit skinnier than he remembered.

“Just me,” Macintosh finally said.

“Yes, I see that as well,” Rarity said. “I see a kind, sweet stallion completely devoted to his family, and who would do anything to support them, no matter what the burden or sacrifice. I see a stallion that isn’t afraid to stand up to a prince, and makes easy friends with the wealthy and the famous. I see a stallion of worth. I see you, Macintosh. Just you.”

Big Mac couldn’t help but smile, and he quickly wiped his face with a foreleg. “Thanks, Rarity. Ah’m glad yer around,” he said softly.

Rarity smiled and stood back up. “Thank you, Macintosh. I needed to hear that.”

“But,” Mac continued, “Ah still got so much dang free time. What am Ah supposed to do if Ah ain’t workin’?”

“Surely there was something you did before you worked on the farm. What did you enjoy doing when you were a colt?”

Macintosh shrugged. “Ah did a lot of things. Ah ran around, Ah read books, Ah drew-”

“You drew? As in drawing?” Rarity asked.

“Eeyup. Landscapes. Ah used to like lookin’ at trees and ponds and sunrises and sunsets and tryin’ to catch ‘em on paper. Ah was never really good at it,” Mac said.

“Macintosh there’s a wealth of things you can do,” Rarity said, smiling in excitement. “Why, I would be happy to teach you how to draw, perhaps even paint.”

“You’d do that for me?” Macintosh asked.

“Oh of course, sweetie,” Rarity said. “This is so wonderful! I can start on a lesson plan on the train ride home. Let’s go, Macintosh, we have much to discuss.”

“Actually, Rarity, Ah’d like to stay a bit more. Get my thoughts together,” Macintosh said. “Maybe I’ll catch a late train back so ya don’t have to wait for me.”

“Take as long as you need. I’ll see you back at Ponyville,” Rarity said with a soft smile. “Before I go, Macintosh. If you had to choose between me and Octavia-”

“Rarity,” Macintosh interrupted “you got something you need to tell me?”

The two stared at each other for a long while. Dozens of times Rarity seemed ready to speak, only for her to shy away. Nothing was said between them as the sun made it’s final descent. Finally, after struggling for so long, Rarity spoke.

“N-no,” she said, her eyes to the ground. “At least...not yet.”

“Ah ain’t gonna wait for ya to get yer head together, ya know,” Mac said.

“Well excuse me,” Rarity said with a huff, “but I could say the same to you.”

Mac chuckled. “Ah suppose yer right. Still friends?”

“Always, Macintosh,” Rarity said with a smile, “and if Octavia comes by, tell her she’s a lucky mare.”

“Pickin’ out the wedding invitations a bit early, ain’t ya?” Macintosh said with a laugh.

“Possibly,” Rarity said. “Goodbye Macintosh. I’ll see you soon.”

“Eeyup.”

She gave him a small kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad we could talk.” She left, and Macintosh quietly watched her head out of the park. He looked over at his side and saw the slice of apple pie. With nothing better to do, he decided to eat his first meal since breakfast. He ate it slowly, savoring every bite as he watched the sunset. That along with the memory of Rarity’s words did much to raise his spirits. By the time he finished he felt…happy. Really happy.

He watched the sun set and disappear beneath the horizon. The sky darkened and the stars came out to light up the sky. Looking around, he noticed pairs of ponies walking in the moonlit grass and standing close despite the warmth of the night. Even he could appreciate the romance of it, even if he had no interest in that sort of thing.

Macintosh leaned back in order to get the fullest view of the sky. He kept leaning and leaning until he rolled onto his back and stared up at the first few stars. He took a deep breath, and for a single moment everything seemed at peace. Beneath the vastness of the sky he, and all his problems, seemed small and insignificant. Right now, that was exactly what he needed.

“Staring at the stars?” Octavia said. She peered down at him with her trademark smirk. As always she had her cello case slung across her back.

“What gave ya that idea?” Mac said with a smile.

“I had an inkling,” she said. “Mind if I join you?”

“Plenty of ground,” Mac said.

Octavia nodded and placed her cello steadily on the ground. She got on her back and joined Macintosh in staring at the stars. “Do you have any more surprises, Macintosh?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well on top of knowing Fancy Pants, the most prominent pony in Canterlot, he also thinks you an art critic. Apparently you’re friends with the Elements of Harmony, and the captain of the Wonderbolts. Not to mention you somehow managed to catch my interest. Not bad for a stallion with a funny accent.”

“Ah know ponies that know ponies,” Macintosh said dryly. “For some reason they all seem to like me.”

“I could imagine why,” Octavia said. “When a pony becomes rich or famous or both, an honest friend is difficult to come by. Most ponies are just interested in their wealth and fame. I suppose they see you as honest.”

“Is that what you see?” Mac asked.

“Of course not,” Octavia said. “I just notice your very impressive physique.”

Macintosh chuckled. “Ah’ll pretend that’s a joke. How was playin’ with yer quartet?”

“Fine,” Octavia said. “There weren’t many ponies to play to but it was nice practice.”

“Practice for what?” Mac asked.

Octavia yawned and ignored his question. “It’s been a pleasure laying about, but I’m getting bored.” She stood up and slung her cello across her back.

Mac smiled as he got to his hooves. “Need any help with yer cello?”

“Macintosh, for the last time, no. The only way I would ever allow you to help me carry my cello is if you were carrying me while I carried my cello.” Macintosh’s ear twitched, and he suddenly broke out into a grin. Octavia quirked an eyebrow. “You wouldn-” She was on his back before she could finish. Having the weight on him felt good, and he wondered how fast he could run with her on top of him.

“Okay, very funny, you can put me down now,” Octavia said, wrapping her forelegs around his neck so tightly he could hardly breathe. Mac smiled and bucked around a bit. Just as he expected, her grip only tightened. “Macintosh!”

“Hold on tight,” he said with a smile, and took off in a run. Her mouth was right beside his ears, and so her yells pounded against his skull. He endured the discomfort and used it as motivation to go faster. Finally he got what he was hoping for, and her screams of fear soon turned into squealing laughter.

“Move out of the way, peasants, your empress is coming through!” Octavia yelled out to any couple that was unfortunate enough to get in their way, and Macintosh was more than willing to join in her laughter. As his muscles burned and his breathing quickened everything else seemed to fade away. Nothing else mattered.

It all ended much too soon for him, but he thought that going another lap around the lake might be a bit much. He stopped right next to the plate Rarity had brought him, and took a moment to catch his breath. Octavia, as well, was out of breath from all her yelling and waited a few seconds before finally climbing off of him.

“That was the most fun I ever had on top of a stallion,” Octavia said with a smirk, and Macintosh smiled back. “What would have happened if I didn’t enjoy it and I kept screaming for you to stop? It would have caused quite a scene.”

“Then it was mighty lucky that ya did enjoy it,” Macintosh said. “An’ Ah think all yer shoutin’ made a big scene anyway.”

“I suppose you’re right. It was still fun,” Octavia said.

“Eeyup,” Mac said, “it sure was, wasn’t it?”

The two smiled at each other, and suddenly Mac’s gut told him that maybe having so much free time wasn’t such a bad thing. “Ya know it ain’t fair that we had two dates in Canterlot and you haven’t even come to Ponyville once,” he said.

Octavia smiled. “If you want to invite me to a date in Ponyville then just say so.”

“I wanna take ya on a date in Ponyville.”

“See?” Octavia said. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Nnope,” Mac said with a smile. “Nice and simple.”

Definitely not a bad thing.

Comments

[Jka22_419]

Drop everything! It's back!
20,000 words at 3 am? Hmmm....worth it.
EDIT: Powerfully written and thought provoking as always

[ShagDragon]

still no romance tag
sadness is within me
oh well
was not meant to be

[Drawdex]

Five proyects, two tests and one theatrical musical number, for this week. Haven't sleeped in two days straight.

10 PM finally able to get a decent *TING*

This story updated...

troll.me/images/yao-ming/well-shit-im-fucked-thumb.jpg

[Rust]

It awakens.

A mighty ship, long ago struck down by time and wind and water. Midst the deeps, the engines rasp to motion. Midst the darkness, a single light flickers faint. Midst the crushing fist of depth, silt and bone shakes free.

It rises.

Metal buckles and bulges as it rips itself away from the grip of the ocean floor. A titanic shape lunges -- forward and upwards, the only ways possible. At the helm, a confident hand once more charts a course.

It lives.

The ocean itself parts, mountainous waves sundered in twain as it spears the surface, corroded rivets and tarnished brass glimmering in a long-forgotten sun. Like a monolithic sea monster, it reaches an impossible height, before slamming itself firmly down again, spraying saltwater aside in a glorious shimmering cascade of light and noise. The ship settles, engines humming as it resumes an ancient voyage.

It begins.

[BobtheLurker]

2403187 Can it be?

...friendship!? Egads!

[cloudranger]

And Rarity strikes out...ooh good luck in another universe. Seriously, this fic evokes so many emotions so naturally. It's amazing. Mac is very compelling.

[ShagDragon]

2403254 eww gross

[Zaku Pony]

Satisfying, as always. I apologize for a lack of a review with greater depth, but the feeling of satisfaction is greater than anything else from reading this update. As per prior chapters, all characters have had a chance to emphasize their dimensions and the ending comes on a sober note.

Most impressive, as always.

[Taxus]

It lives! A wonderful read, as always!

[Vic Viper]

SCHOOL? NAH!!!!!!! SLEEP??? NAHHHHH!!!!!!!!! FOOD?? NAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! BATHROOM BREAKS???????????? NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! reading this story....um YESSSSSSSSSSSSgoogle.com/imgres?start=116&hl=en&safe=off&rlz=1C1CHFX_enUS437US438&biw=1680&bih=925&tbm=isch&tbnid=3NLrd-4OBXjd0M:&imgrefurl=http://www.portent.com/blog/internet-marketing/holiday-online-marketing-promotion-strategies.htm&docid=iVB4yhnLz_cmpM&imgurl=http://static.portent.com/images/2012/10/anchorman-holiday-marketing-meme-350x371.jpg&w=350&h=371&ei=utNkUYrSPMjE2QX6oYDIAQ&zoom=1&ved=1t:3588,r:28,s:100,i:88&iact=rc&dur=358&page=4&tbnh=170&tbnw=156&ndsp=42&tx=87&ty=58

[fanon44]

dont worry rarity spike will date you

[Zephyrion]

I always enjoy new installments of this story.

[Anonymous Assassin]

Oh my god... you finally updated! I have been waiting so long for this, you have no idea. I honestly had almost given up hope. So looking forward to reading when I get the chance.

[Themaskedferret]

2403237 Hey! If you've time to write beautiful comments then you've time to give poor Puppylove some interviews. Get back ta work! *cracks whip*

Another lovely update.

[Pulsar Glow]

2403237make it into a story, perhaps?...

[Silent Storms]

Oh this is a good day. What a pleasant birthday surprise.

[Axel IV]

Was having a pretty bad day, with week filled with nothing but studying and exams... when this story was updated, it immediately made things better for me. Thank you!

[Seether00]

Thus OctoMac was born!

[Undertone]

Mac is ultimate horse.

[Kandagger]

Huzzah and hooray, a new chapter.

You've picked an interesting turning point here, having Macintosh very slowly and very methodically coming to his own conclusions without some crazy hairbrained song and dance number--which I feel is very in character for him. However I am a bit concerned as I can't really tell where the story has left to go. Macintosh obviously hasn't entirely learned his lesson yet but I can't really deduce anything else we need to know before such a change takes place. And while at this point you've earned my trust in your abilities, I'm not sure how you'll stop the story from becoming redundant before you've said all you need to say.

On that note, the inclusion of Octavia into his life as a regular romantic interest is quite ingenious. I can't tell if this is going to be a permanent couple or a red herring of sorts but in either case it creates delicious delicious conflict for the established relationships with the Mane Six. I also approve on how Octavia allows Macintosh's snarky side to come out full force (something none of the other girls have managed yet). And while I have my personal preferences of course, I approve of this turn of events whole-heartedly.

That all said I'm beginning to grow worried about the "Big Mac wants to work on the farm, but Applejack isn't letting him" storyline, mostly because I'm not getting the sense that Macintosh is fulfilled by anything besides the work in question (and the subsequent benefit to his family). All these escapades he's been are marred somewhat by the ever-present sense that were Macintosh given any choice in the matter he would have NOTHING to do with any of it. He needs a moment to discover that it's NOT the work itself that motivates him, and rather something tangential to work (whatever that may be) is truly the reason he wants to return to "the way things were" so badly. And it needs to happen soon. I cannot buy "painting" as a suitable replacement (mostly because the stuff he is fulfilled by has some sort of physical component) and actually expect that eventual ordeal to go over poorly.

As a minor nitpick, the making of schedules and lesson plans feels a very Twilight thing to do--not Rarity. Although I can see the fashionista making one, I don't think she would actually tell anyone that she had done so--preferring instead to project the illusion that everything had come together effortlessly and was almost no trouble on her part.

I did enjoy this chapter a great deal and eagerly look forward to the next. Thank you for continuing to produce it.

[TheDoktor]

You... it's amazing. I can't tell if you inspire me to get back to work on my own fic, or frighten me into quitting because of the standards you set. We'll go with 'inspire.'

I don't think I've ever seen anyone capture Mac's philosophical side like you do, with all his reactions to the ponies around him. It brings out the depth without turning the fic into Mac gazing into his navel for 20k words. It's very natural, Macintosh himself is very natural here.

You're also the undisputed champion of ship-teasing... I won't even say it's going to be MacTavia, for certain yet. The really grand thing? if any of the pairings you've hinted at happen, I couldn't object to any of them. They're all different, but they all make sense. That's a virtuoso's touch, right here.

I'd stay up to gush more, but I'm up way past bedtime to read this monster, so I'll just thank you for another great chapter, and hope for more soon.

[Sky Bound]

IT UPDATED!!!!!?

PRAISE BE JEEBUS!!!

edit:

jeez mac, turn off your stallion swag once in a while,
just being around might get a mare pregnant (not that they wouldn't want that or anything)

also
I find the lack of Flutterbutt distubing still

[ZettaLux]

This story is frustrating and fufilling. I came for the slice of life/comedy, and stayed for the apparent romance.

[mrjerrio]

I haven't re-read a single pony fanfic before, but this might just be one that a second reading upon completion.

[Graf Zeppelin]

Holy cow I love this story so much!!!!

Nice to see Octavia again, hell, even Blueblood was a welcomed sight, and even though the chapter was very long, I really didn't feel its leght, and to be honest it left me wanting more, although most of the chapters do that (only two expentions, and even those still were great).

But best of all, it seems that finally there was a big character growth for Mac, or at least one that shouldn't be so easily brushed by the next chapter (that's my only problem with the overall story), hope it does stand next time.

Well, even if the next chapter takes longer, I damn well know that all the wait will be worth it! But of course, that doesnt mean I've lost hope regarding the return of the old monthly schedule.

[statoose]

Here I am again, at a loss for words in regard to how much I love this story. The characterization and dialogue are what make this so incredibly good; there's just no story to rival it. And where other stories that would have similar plot lines would be only a few chapters long, this one just goes on, with no end in sight. I love it so much...

[Akouma]

Been far too long since this updated, as usual. I'm not even talking about the time it took between 12 and 13. I mean 13 and now. I just finished reading the chapter and the wait is already killing me.

Seriously, this fic is fantastic. Poor Rarity though.

[RealityCheck]

Sort of dragging out the Mac Angst a bit, aren't you?

[ShadowFox]

It's been updated! Hallelujah!!!

I do feel a bit bad for Rarity now though.

[BookWyrm]

it never fails for this story to make my day.

[RazorWing_GB]

2403237 What is this from? I want to read it!

[Bronyhood of steel]

great chapter looking forward to the next one

[Zaid ValRoa]

By the time he finished he felt…happy. Really happy.

Sums up my feelings about this chapter.

[General Darth]

As usual this story does not fail to impress me every time.
And Blueblood continues to be the best written douchebag I have seen to date. Well done

[Verbose Soubriquet]

If anything, I have to praise the characterization of Blueblood here. At least in the Series 1 finale he was not going out of his way to be aggravating. Now, put up against Big Macintosh, the exact kind of pony that he looks down on, his unpleasant tendencies really come out.
He is not a complete smug bastard though, as he is a bit touchy about his artwork. Feeling insecure, perhaps?

[honeyhoneyhoney]

The dialog is so charming and witty.

*cries* So jealous!!!!!!!~!!
Anywhooo, thank you for this wondrous chapter.

[Azkhare]

Nothing came out of the farm horse

Nothing came out of the farm horse

Nothing came out of the farm horse

fireden.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/RIP-AND-TEAR.jpg

He's a PONY!

Just kidding, I love to see this updated.

[destinedjagold]

lovely lovely update.
it's really one of the best fics that I am eagerly waiting for an update.
and here it is, and the wait is worth it. :3

Big Mac and Octie are so cute together.
Blueblood slowly changing for the better is also a nice touch.

I find it weird that Rarity and Rainbow Dash have feelings for him though.
I ain't sure about Pinkie and Twilight.
I have no idea about Fluttershy.
Aw well~

Where this fic is leading is still a bit of a mystery to me, but hey, I ain't complaining. :3

eagerly awaiting for the next update.

[Sallythemanatee]

It is alive! Once again my favorite story solidifies itself in its number one spot. I love the many faces of Mac. I love how you can make Blueblood completely repulsive yet still make us want to see him redeemed. I love the snide, confident and flirty Octavia you have here and I love the conflict between her and Rarity. The scenery was expertly crafted, the story moved at an even pace that kept me engaged while bringing some rather deep and introspective thoughts and questions to light.

This story does not just entertain with its characters, comedy, or conflict. It also challenges me to reflect on my life choices and own self worth and image.
I Hope it is not another couple months before the next chapter but I am willing to wait many more than that for more of this quality. When the curtain finally draws and the complete tag is place on this story I will be saddened but I will be forever grateful for the story you have spun for us.

[Bookmarker]

Octavia, Rarity, Rainbow, Twilight, Pinkie, etc. Don't really know who I want Mac to end up with because he has such great chemistry with all of them and they with each other. Clever and witty dialogue, too. Good stuff.

[Theforrealdeal]

I've got friends in high places.

They just need a blunt and rolling paper to get there.

[Majk]

Good to see Mac getting out of the angst barrel.
Gotta say i did not expect Mac&Tavi and yet, you pulled it perfectly.
Now to sit back and hope that the next chapter comes out sooner. Great jon brony.

[I had no idea]

Oh. My. GOD! I waited so long for this! Rock on!

[Fanskapet]

damn big mac u stud lol

finally update and godamn it was long well worth the wait

[Aurora Dimmet]

Macintavia won't become a permanent thing. She's got her band, and I doubt his revelation will be the need to travel with a music pony. But I do like the inclusion for the conflict it brings, and changes it brings in him. He might end up with either Dash or Rarity, but Octavia'll be a key stepping stone to make it possible for him to hold a relationship - in my opinion.

[Tchernobog]

“Move out of the way, peasants, your empress is coming through!”

[Black Hoof]

An update!
I liked this chapter as much as the others : A lot. Wonderful job.

[Xenonic]

...Hm? No romance tag? Boo!

[BenRG]

I think Octavia was wrong. Blueblood wasn't compensating for anything in "his" sculpture, it was, in a way, a reflection of how he tries to see himself, the lies he tells himself to survive.

This was very much a split chapter between the characters of Blueblood and Mackintosh really. In different ways, they have the same problem - they're playing a role, a role they even like and want to be their lives. Nonetheless they are doing so with only a little idea (if any) of what they really want with their lives. I think that, only after he answers that question - take away the farm and who is he? - will Mac really be happy and he will know which of the competing mares is the one for him. I, personally, think that it's Pinkie although I suspect that Octavia is going to be a fun diversion before he realises that she is a bit catty for his tastes.

Poor Mac, though! Surrounded by strong-willed mares! Mares, it seems, who are not above a little double-entendre now and then that he is more than smart enough to understand. That cat-fight between Rarity and Octavia was hilarious!

[AeroFW]

2405412

Wow I agree with you totally regarding the issue that they seem to share, I can totally see Big Mac towards the beggining being almost the same as Blueblood, a little uncertain perhaps, at times, but almost fully sure of himself regarding his life and the role he is playing.

I can't wait for the next chapter and I hope that Big Mac can become friends with all of them and accept his new self.
I feel bad for Big Mac, despite all his accomplishments and friends he still feels... Useless... I guess I can relate what with me and my friends going through a similar situation with me, and bless my friends for helping me, especially one of them, who is now my girlfriend.
Anyways I was really glad to see Bluebood and Mac tryin to work it out, I just hope that Mac trying to be friends and stay like that with everyone works out, I'd hate to see him get into a situation in which he'd have to pick a side

Kudos to the amazing author and the amazing slice of life fanfic he has written, im hoping it will last quite a bit longer and with the current pace it has been taking regarding the development of Big Mac through almost all the characters in the fanfic, well I'm pretty sure it'll last for quite a long time. Not to mention he has to write a friendship letter too and what with rainbow dash, rarity, Octavia, and perhaps maybe fluttershy and twilight depending on how things go from now and how much more they bond well... He might have one heck of a letter to write to Celestia, 6 mare fight over Big Mac? Wowz!

Crossing my fingers and hoping that the next chapter won't take a month or 2 but it'll definitely be worth the wait if it is