• Published 9th Jul 2012
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Of Youth and Growth - ArcheonZ



A look into the childhood lives of the Mane 6.

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Applejack

Waiting

“Sit up properly, Applejack,” said Auntie Brown Betty. “Don't slouch.”

Applejack did as she was told, straightening her back and lifting her head. Auntie Brown Betty nodded her approval, but now Applejack found her oatmeal was out of reach. How was she supposed to eat breakfast and sit up straight at the same time? She thought about asking just that when she noticed that Big Macintosh was holding his bowl in his hooves. He sipped at it from the edge in small mouthfuls. Uncle Fritter was doing the same thing.

It didn't look too hard, but Applejack still wasn't very good at balancing things on her hooves. Well, this would just be a good time to practice, she reasoned as she picked up her bowl. It was slippery and wobbly, but she kept reasonable control of it and began to sip at her oatmeal. She did alright at first, but the more she tilted it, the faster the oatmeal flowed. She tried to slow the flow by tilting it the other way, but it started to slip. She overcorrected and the bowl tumbled into her lap, splattering its contents all over her chest and belly.

“Oops.” Applejack looked up to see Auntie Brown Betty frowning at her. “I'll clean that up.”

She got a rag and did her best to mop up the worst of the spill. It seemed a waste to throw away a nearly full bowl of food, but the oatmeal she wiped off herself had her hair in and she certainly didn't want anything that had touched the floor. Apple Bloom giggled from her high chair. She was just as covered in oatmeal as Applejack, but foals could get away with being covered in food.

“Sorry,” she said, sitting back down at the table. “Can I have some more?”

“You already had your portion,” said Uncle Fritter.

“But I spilled it. I didn't get to eat hardly any.”

“I didn’t make enough oatmeal for everypony to have seconds,” said Auntie Brown Betty. “There’s some fruit if you still want something.”

She passed a shallow bowl of grapes to Applejack, who helped herself to a small cluster. They were rather sour, but she didn’t complain about them. Auntie Brown Betty nodded at her.

“See? You still got your breakfast. And eating a little less won’t kill you before lunchtime, will it?”

“No, Auntie,” said Applejack.

“Thatta girl. And next time, don't be so clumsy,” said Auntie Brown Betty. “Now, go on out to the fields. Time for your chores.”

Applejack stood and left the kitchen, casting a jealous eye on Big Macintosh who was still happily enjoying his oatmeal. The back door banged shut behind her.

A visit from her aunt and uncle, who had retired from farm work a few years before, had been fun at first. But Auntie Brown Betty and Uncle Fritter didn't seem to be as nice as Applejack remembered them being in previous visits. Normally, they would only spend a day or two visiting the farm, but Granny Smith had recently had surgery on her hip. She had been recovering in the hospital for the last week and had asked the relatives to come in to keep an eye on Apple Bloom and the farm in general. Uncle Fritter worked out in the fields with the hired ponies and Applejack and Big Macintosh helped wherever they could, in between regular visits to Ponyville Hospital, of course. Although, Uncle Fritter didn't let Applejack join them when they went apple bucking. Now her job was merely moving baskets and picking up bruised apples and other simple chores.

Auntie Brown Betty spent most of her time fussing over Apple Bloom and teaching Applejack how to be 'proper.' She had mentioned that she didn't think Granny Smith was raising them with proper country manners or something. Applejack had learned plenty about being 'proper' while she had been in Manehattan and didn't want to know any more, especially since 'proper' meant not stomping through mud puddles, or playing with Dixie and her puppies or doing almost any kind of farm work. Worst of all was the fact that both her auntie and uncle had decided that snacks weren't 'proper' either. Applejack had had a big appetite since she had been a foal, and while Granny had been kind enough to leave out fruits and vegetables, and the occasional baked treat, her auntie and uncle had put a stop to her snacking almost immediately.

Well, inside the house anyway. They lived in an orchard; there was always plenty of food outside that nopony would miss. She made her way out to the western Russet orchard. The hired ponies who worked at the farm with them got up at sunrise and were already hard at work. They waved as she grew close.

“AJ, there you are,” called Taffy, one of the hired ponies. “Give us a hoof setting out these baskets, will you?”

“Sure thing,” she called, running over to him. One by one, she helped him set out the apple-catching baskets beneath the trees. She spent the next few hours doing that, along with sorting apples as they were bucked out of the trees. It was hard work and, combined with the fact that she had spilled most of her breakfast instead of eating it, Applejack was soon hungry. Once or twice, she nipped an apple out of the catching baskets; Taffy never saw her do it. More often, she'd find a slightly bruised one lying on the ground and eat it – she wouldn't get in trouble taking something they were just going to feed to the pigs anyway.

-=-

“Lunchtime!” called Uncle Fritter from the front step of the house, a few hours later. Applejack had been happily playing with the puppies once her chores were finished and had managed to work up quite an appetite, despite all the apples she’d eaten. She took the dogs back to the pen and joined Big Macintosh and the hired ponies as they happily trotted into the house. The colts reached the table first, taking their seats before a pile of grilled cheese and daisy sandwiches and a tray of vegetables. Applejack followed, but Auntie Brown Betty stepped in front of her.

“Proper ladies do not attend meals looking as if they have been rolling in the mud,” she said. “Go upstairs, wash your face and hooves and comb your mane.”

“I'm not that dirty,” Applejack protested. “'Sides, you didn't make the others wash up.”

“Don't argue with me, young filly,” said her auntie. “Off you go.”

Applejack ran upstairs to the bathroom and scrubbed off as much of the mud as she could see, then dragged a brush through her mane, frowning all the while.

By the time she came back downstairs, there was only one sandwich left. She pounced on it before Big Macintosh could gobble it up. She would have liked another one, but based on how they reacted at breakfast, it wasn’t likely her auntie and uncle would be willing go to the trouble of cooking up another sandwich just for her. Instead, she contented herself with a few helpings of vegetables. After a scolding from Auntie Brown Betty about eating neatly and daintily like a proper lady, Applejack scampered outside, eager to help again.

-=-

A farmer’s work isn’t done until the sun sets at the end of the day. On Sweet Apple Acres, it meant that the afternoon was just as busy as the morning, if not more so. The hired ponies, faithfully followed by Big Macintosh, headed off to the eastern orchards to buck down the Gala apples. Once again, Applejack did her best to convince them that she could help and once again, Uncle Fritter held her back.

“Your auntie doesn’t want you doing dangerous work,” he said.

“It ain’t dangerous,” she replied with a stamp of her hoof. “I’ve been buckin’ trees since I got back from Manehatten. It’s what I’m ‘sposed to do!”

“There’s lots of other work to be done to keep a farm running,” he said, tousling her mane a bit. “Somepony’s gotta take care of the pigs, after all. I’m sure you’ll be a great applebucker when you’re a big pony.”

Applejack glared at him. “I am a big pony!”

He paid her no mind. “The pigs need feeding, Applejack. Off you go.”

She turned and left, still grumbling to herself.

-=-

Twenty minutes later, Applejack was wrestling with the pigs in their pen. She had fed them first, of course, but watching them eat their slop wasn’t entertaining for very long. Thinking that she could train them like dogs, she had tossed apples for them to catch. She wasn’t a great thrower, though, and more often than not, the apples bounced right off the pigs’ heads. Then she thought she could get them to eat one right out of her hoof on command, but they wouldn’t listen when she told them to sit and had bowled her over in the race to get the food. One thing led to another and soon it became a game of seeing who could knock who over. But her fun was interrupted by Auntie Brown Betty calling her inside. She sighed as she climbed out of the pig pen, wondering what this was all about.

“Look at you! You're covered in mud!” exclaimed Auntie Brown Betty, seeing the filly approach the farm house.

“I was just playin' with the pigs,” said Applejack. Her auntie merely scowled.

“Upstairs and in the tub with you, young filly. March!”

Her auntie nudged her none too gently in the rump and Applejack headed for the stairs.

“Why do I need a bath in the afternoon anyway?” said Applejack. “I'm just gonna get muddy again.”

“Some of my society friends are visiting for tea,” said Auntie Brown Betty. “It'll do you some good to see how proper ladies behave, so you're going to join us.”

They reached the bathroom as she spoke. The tub was full of suds and Applejack reluctantly undid the hair bands that kept her mane and tail tied up. Before she could move, her auntie picked her up and plunked her in the tub and began to douse her with water.

“I can mind my manners just fine,” said Applejack, sputtering a little.

Auntie Brown Betty took the washcloth and began scrubbing at Applejack's coat. The filly fidgeted when her auntie rubbed too hard, but the mare took no notice.

“Hardly,” said her auntie. “Rolling around in the mud with dogs and pigs is no place for a little filly. It's time you learned about proper society manners – learn them again, I should say.” She huffed and pulled Applejack out of the tub and started toweling her off. “You spent a month in Manehattan, for goodness' sake! Don't you remember anything they taught you?”

Auntie Brown Betty paused a moment with the towel and Applejack took the chance to shake off the excess water. Her auntie stopped her abruptly by clamping the towel down around her.

“And no more of that, either!” she snapped. “Use the towel. I'm going to get your mane brush and your dress.”

“Dress? Why do I have to wear a dress?” said Applejack, blotting the water out of her coat. “I don't like wearin' frilly stuff.”

“You'll wear it because I told you so,” said her auntie, who began tugging the brush through Applejack's tangled tail. “You want to make a good impression on high society ponies, don't you?”

Tired of being told what she was going to do and going to like, she said what she really felt. “No. Sounds borin'.”

Applejack suddenly yelped. “Ow! You pulled my tail!”

“I'll pull it harder next time if you don't fix your attitude.” Auntie Brown Betty began to run the brush through her mane, only slightly more gently than she had through her tail. Applejack kept her mouth closed, not letting herself cry out as her auntie yanked her mane around. If she was just going to get in trouble every time she opened her mouth, it wasn't worth it.

After several minutes of brushing, pulling, pinning and curling, her mane was finally done. Auntie Brown Betty brought over a frilly yellow dress and pulled it over the filly's head before she could complain about the way it looked. At last, Auntie Brown Betty sat back and smiled for the first time all day.

“There we are! Oh, don't you look just precious?”

Applejack stared at her reflection in total disbelief. Her mane was pulled into looping ringlets and arranged like a crown on her head. Her tail had been braided so tightly she could barely move it. The frilly yellow dress didn't quite fit and didn't exactly match her coat or mane or eyes, or any part of her, really. The farm pony she knew and saw every day in the mirror had been replaced by one of those fancy fillies she saw around town; the ones that giggled at everything in too-high voices or the ones that complained if their carrot soup was too orange. This wasn't the look of a hard-working earth pony – she looked like some snooty, self-important unicorn, like that white one with the purple mane she'd seen around town who was always gabbing on about clothes.

“I look silly,” Applejack said. “And I feel silly.”

“Nonsense! You look like a lady,” said her auntie, beaming. “You look just like my Honeydrop the day she left for Fillydelphia. She owns her own art gallery now, did you know? She might even open a second one in Canterlot.” She sighed. “Can you imagine? My daughter, in Canterlot, where all the really important ponies are! I only wish I could have gotten so far at her age.”

Applejack frowned at her reflection, tugging at the dress with her teeth.

“This dress is kinda big,” she said.

“It was Honeydrop's, so it might not fit you very well. But not to worry – you'll grow into it!”

Applejack didn't like the sound of that – as if Auntie Brown Betty was going to stick around to see her grow up.

“When can I take it off?” she said.

Auntie Brown Betty rolled her eyes. “Later. Now come on, we need to make some tea and snacks for my friends.”

-=-

Applejack smiled fixedly at Daisy May and Lavender, the two fancied-up unicorns who had come to visit Auntie Brown Betty. They talked and talked about grown-up things while she sat still, trying not to yawn too loudly. She couldn’t help but fidget in her seat; the dress was itchy all over and she had yet to settle into a spot where it didn’t bother her. Auntie Brown Betty cleared her throat and the filly stopped moving at once.

They continued talking about nothing she cared about and Applejack felt her mind wander. Suddenly, a yawn caught her off-guard, overriding her fixed smile. She tried to hold it back, but the fact was, this was boring and she couldn’t deny it anymore. The ladies paused their conversation, and Applejack felt her face heat.

“‘Scuse me,” she said, once she’d finished.

Daisy May and Lavender shared an amused glance, but Auntie Brown Betty’s eye twitched.

“Applejack, dearest, why don’t you bring out that plate of cucumber sandwiches from the kitchen?” she said.

The filly did as she was told, grateful for even a moment away from all the boring grown-up talk.
A large plate of cucumber sandwiches, half the size of normal sandwiches, sat on the kitchen table, next to a few other plates piled high with goodies. Applejack dragged the plate to the edge of the table and began the careful process of balancing it on her head, trying not to upset her mane style.

A low voice chuckled at her from the back door. Applejack turned to see Big Macintosh standing in the doorway, grinning at her.

“You look like a pig in a wig!” he said.

“I do not!” she snapped, blushing.

“Someone's taken my sister and put a frilly, pretty pansy pony here in her place!”

“I am not a pansy pony!” She pushed the plate back onto the table, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks.

He chuckled. “'Course you are. No frilly pansy pony would do any farm work. Wouldn't want to chip a hoof from apple bucking!”

“Auntie Brown Betty made me dress up like this! I can still work!”

“Oh yeah? Then where've you been all day? Gettin' your mane done? Tryin' on pretty dresses?”

“I was not! She -”

He was laughing now. “You're just tryin' to get outta doin' your chores! Lazy, frilly pony doesn't want to do any work, 'cause she spends all her time bein' pretty.”

Applejack's fluster was turning to anger now. “That's not true!”

“Pansy, frilly pony! Pansy, frilly pony!” He sang.

“Stop it, Big Mac!”

He trotted out the door, still singing. “Make me, pansy frilly pony! Or are you too scared of getting dirty?”

She trotted out to the back step. “I ain't afraid of nothin'!”

“Pansy, frilly pony! Pansy, frilly pony!”

The frustration and confusion that had been simmering in her all day suddenly reached a boil. With a yell, she tackled Big Mac, sending them tumbling into the back yard. They landed with a splat into a mud puddle. She seized him around his broad neck, forcing him to reach up and pry her off and then they were wrestling with all their might.

Big Mac was big enough to hold her off, but he was hampered by his laughter at the sight of her, snarling at him in a mud-covered dress. She, on the other hoof, was quick and small, and her anger gave her strength. She slipped his grasp, over and over, ignoring the sounds of tearing fabric.

He tried to put her in a headlock, still grinning despite the fact that she was putting up a terrific fight. The fact that he was still laughing at her only made her angrier and she scrambled to get out of his grip . With a roar, she managed to pin him at last, flat on his back and totally helpless.

“Take it back!” Applejack shouted, mashing his face into the mud. “Say I ain't no pansy, frilly pony! No pansy, frilly pony could pin a colt twice her size with all the hired hooves watchin'!”

He glanced to the side to see Taffy and the others snickering at him. She noticed he wasn't laughing anymore. In fact, he looked a little embarrassed.

“Say it!” she said.

Big Mac rolled his eyes, took a deep breath and opened his mouth.

“SUMMER JACKLYN APPLE!” bellowed a voice from the front door of the farmhouse. All of them looked up to see Auntie Brown Betty glowering over the field, and especially at the mud pit where the two siblings had been wrestling.

Applejack flinched. Where in Equestria did she learn my full name?

“You get over here right now!”

Head and ears hanging low, Applejack slowly plodded back to the house. She was in deep trouble this time, and she knew it. Rarely had she ever gotten in trouble with Granny and even then, it wasn’t this bad. Guilt and fear tied her stomach in knots and she found she was sweating.

Auntie Brown Betty’s two unicorn friends were standing on the road, headed for the gate.

“You don’t have to go, you know,” said her auntie. “I’ll just handle this and then we can get right back to our chat.”

“Oh no, we wouldn’t want be underhoof while you’re getting this wild foal under control,” said Daisy May, smiling the same way. “We’ll be on our way now.”

They walked away, chuckling at something. Applejack turned to look at her auntie, already getting ready to apologize. But before she could say a word, Auntie Brown Betty seized Applejack’s ear in her mouth, pulling her inside.

“Auntie, that hurts!” Applejack yelped. “Stop pullin’ so hard!”

Her auntie didn’t let go, merely tugged Applejack back upstairs for another bath. Once they reached the tub, she let go and began to fill it, leaving Applejack to nurse her ear.

“I have been waiting for the chance to make a good impression on those two and you had to ruin it for me!” she said.

“I thought you were already friends,” said Applejack. “Or else, why did you invite them over?”

“And look at your dress!” said her auntie, continuing as if she hadn’t heard. “It’s ruined!”

Applejack stared at the once-yellow, once-finely-crafted dress. It was now a muddy, ripped, sodden rag. Carefully, she pulled it off.

“Sorry,” she said.

Her auntie jerked her head toward the tub and Applejack climbed in without another word, until she realized how cold the water was.

“Ah! It’s freezin’! Can you warm it up?”

“No, you can deal with it like a big girl.”

Her auntie grabbed a washcloth and began scrubbing the mud out. She rubbed even harder than her earlier bath and the filly did her best not to complain. At least this would be over quickly.

“You are the most stubborn little filly I’ve ever met,” said Auntie Brown Betty. “Every time I ask you to do something, you always question me.”

“But-”

She yanked the filly out of the tub and began scrubbing her down with a towel. “And you simply have no idea how to behave like a proper little filly. Eating like a pig, running around in the mud, wrestling with anything that will fight you - you’re unbelievable!”

“But-” The towel over her head muffed Applejack’s words.

“If you were my daughter, I would have put an end to this behavior years ago. You’d be a proper lady of high society, not some ruffian out on a farm in a backwater town.”

“But I don’t wanna be proper! I wanna be Applejack!”

The second the words were out of her mouth, she knew it had been the wrong thing to say. Auntie Brown Betty seemed to grow even taller in her anger and Applejack braced herself for another round of yelling.

It never came. Auntie Brown Betty just gave a heavy sigh, her eyes squeezed shut.
“Go to your room, Applejack. And don’t you come out until I say you can.”

Her voice shook a little as she spoke, as if she were struggling to keep control over it. Not knowing what it meant, Applejack obeyed immediately. She scampered off to her room and closed the door. Moving slowly to keep from making any noise, she carefully climbed into her bed and simply waited for her auntie to calm down.

-=-

A hour later found Applejack reading a book on the bed. She had fallen asleep for a while, then woke to the sound of hoofsteps in the hallway. She sat up, hoping it was her auntie on her way to say her punishment was over. Back straight, head up, withers square - she did her very best to look like a proper young filly. Any second now, her door would swing wide open and her auntie would walk in, letting her out to play again. Any second now. Any second...

The hoofsteps continued down the hallway without stopping. They paused for a moment, then returned toward her door. When they passed by a second time, Applejack flopped down on the bed, feeling even more awful. Her auntie must have decided that she was a very naughty filly to leave her in her room for so long.

Hours passed. The shadows in the orchard grew longer and longer, until the sun sank below the horizon. And still, Applejack sat in her room, bored out of her mind, waiting for her auntie to let her out again.

Her bedroom door clicked open. Auntie Brown Betty walked in, balancing a bowl on her head. Applejack sat up immediately. At last! Now she could apologize and everything would go back to normal.

“Auntie, I’m sorry-” she began, but her auntie didn’t react. She didn’t say a word; merely placed the bowl on the dresser and walked out again. She didn’t even look at her.

Applejack took the bowl down and sipped at the lukewarm vegetable soup it held, the lump in her throat making swallowing difficult. She sniffled and scrubbed at her eyes, but she couldn’t fight it off. When was Granny coming home?

-=-

Later, much later, when the farm was quiet and the house was asleep, Applejack tossed and turned in her bed. She couldn’t sleep, not when she felt as if she was starving to death. Her stomach had been aching and growling for hours, despite the soup she’d been given. She rolled over again, onto her belly, trying to shut it out.

Why was Auntie Brown Betty so mad at her? Was the dress she had ruined extra special or something? Had she insulted her Auntie’s friends somehow?

As she lay there thinking, the pieces slowly came together. Auntie Brown Betty had told her several times that day, ‘That is not how a proper lady acts.’ In fact, she’d been saying that ever since she and Uncle Fritter had arrived on the farm. Applejack had been doing her best to try and be ‘proper’, just like her Auntie wanted, but no matter how hard she tried, she could never pull it off. She just couldn’t seem to make her Auntie happy. Did that make her a bad pony, not only disobeying whoever was in charge, but not being able to obey in the first place? The realization shook her to her core.

“I-I’m a bad pony…” she whispered. “No wonder Auntie doesn’t like me.”

A bad pony, one who couldn’t be proper enough to make her Auntie happy, one who couldn’t eat properly without spilling food all over herself, one who would never be allowed to work on the farm or get dirty ever again, one couldn’t chase the dogs or play with the pigs, one who tried to obey all those rules and hated every one of them; she was a bad pony, because she couldn’t do what she was told no matter how hard she tried.

Her stomach growled again, making her whimper. On top of all these awful realizations, she had to somehow try and sleep with awful hunger pangs. All part of Auntie Brown Betty’s punishment for her, no doubt. Bad ponies didn’t deserve food. They broke the rules and deserved to be punished.

On the other hoof, if she really was a bad pony and couldn’t do anything to change it, would it matter so much if she broke one more rule? The house was quiet and everypony but her was surely asleep by now. She could sneak downstairs and get something to eat from the kitchen and be back in bed before anypony heard her.

She sat up in bed, suddenly energized by the idea. Never in her life had she chosen to actively break a rule. And not just any rule, but disobeying her punishment. Auntie Brown Betty would be furious if she found out. Then again, it didn’t seem like her Auntie could really get any madder at this point.

Applejack glanced over at her night stand. Her clock read 1:15, surprising her. She had never stayed up this late before. Nopony did, which meant that the kitchen was bound to be deserted. Nopony would ever know she had even been out of bed.

She slipped out from the covers and onto the floor, moving slowly and carefully. Her hooves didn’t make a sound on the floorboards and she made her way to the door. She opened it just wide enough to slip through and moved into the hallway.

It was dark and quiet there too, the only sound came from Uncle Fritter snoring at the end of the hall. She crept softly toward the stairs, keeping low, making her profile less obvious. Actually, in a way, it was kind of thrilling. It reminded her of hide-and-seek tag, though, the stakes were much higher than being made ‘it’ for the next round.

Apple Bloom shuffled in her crib as Applejack passed the door to her room. It stood open so the grown-ups could hear her cry, and she took extra care to keep quiet here. One wrong move and she’d wake up the whole house.

The stairs loomed before her. Her quest was halfway complete, but now she had to find a way down without making any noise. The seventh stair creaked the loudest, she knew, but she couldn't remember if the others did. She hesitated, trying to decide the best way to make her way down, when a new idea came to her.

Moments later, Applejack dropped off the banister without a sound. She made her way into the kitchen, looking around for a bowl fruit. Moonlight filtered across the table, illuminating her goal, but also revealing something else. A plate, filled with some kind of treats. She sniffed at them.

Gingersnaps! Auntie Brown Betty must have set out the leftover treats from her party that afternoon for dessert. They smelled delicious. Her mouth watered and her stomach growled and she leaned on the table to eat one before she could stop herself. It was delicious! Sweet and spicy without being too much of either, it brought back memories of the last few days of fall, just before the snow came.

Applejack climbed up on the table. There were so many cookies that nopony would probably notice if two or even three went missing. She giggled to herself as she imagined Auntie Brown Betty coming down to find her sitting on the table, gobbling up cookies. She'd be horrified, and would start lecturing her about how cookies and sitting on the table and snacks weren't 'proper.'

Disappointing her Auntie didn’t seem so upsetting anymore, Applejack suddenly realized as she munched another cookie. After all, she’d gotten this far without her Auntie knowing. How much madder could she get, anyway? And why did she never yell at Big Mac? Was it because he was a colt? Did colts not have to be proper? Grown-ups seemed so strange. Oh well, at least the cookies were - Applejack looked down at the plate when she didn't feel another cookie. It was empty.

Oops.

She had eaten them all. There had to have been a dozen cookies on that plate and she had eaten every last one. There was no way she could make more without them hearing her, so that wasn't a good plan. But maybe if she put the plate away, they might not notice. They might forget ever having put out the cookies in the first place.

Applejack hopped down from the table and took the plate with her. She thought about just putting it back in the cupboard, but one of the rules of the kitchen was never put a dirty dish with the clean ones and she just couldn't bring herself to disobey it. Instead, she carefully set it in the sink and headed back to her room. There was no way to slide up the banister, but maybe if she kept right to the edges of the stairs, they wouldn't make much noise.

They didn't, but she was still careful to avoid the seventh step entirely. No point in taking chances now. She slipped past bedroom doors until she reached her own and softly closed it behind her. Her bed was waiting for her and she snuggled under the blankets, feeling very satisfied.

At least I ain't hungry no more, she thought to herself.

Belly full and eyes heavy, she was asleep moments later.

-=-

The next morning, she headed down for breakfast only to find her auntie, uncle and brother all seated around the table, and Apple Bloom in her high chair, gurgling and cooing. There was no breakfast in front of them. The only object on the table was the empty cookie plate. Applejack gulped, trying to keep the guilt off her face.

“Mornin', everypony,” she said. “What's for breakfast?”

“I haven't made anything yet,” said Auntie Brown Betty.

“Seems we got a mystery on our hooves,” said Uncle Fritter. “This here plate was full last night, but when we got up this morning, there was nothing on it.”

“I didn't eat any cookies!” Applejack blurted. She clamped her mouth shut, but it was too late to stop the words. Auntie Brown Betty raised an eyebrow at her.

“He didn't say anything about any cookies,” said Auntie Brown Betty.

Applejack felt sweat prickle under her forelock. “Wh-what I meant to say was, I didn't eat any cookies, but I saw what happened to 'em!”

“Did you now?”

“Uh, yeah! It was... it was mice! Dozens of 'em! They all ran into the kitchen and grabbed the cookies and balanced them on their heads like they was wearin' hats and ran back out again.”

“We don't have mice in the house,” said Big Mac. “Dixie keeps 'em from gettin' inside.”

Applejack glared at him. He was her brother – he was supposed to be on her side. She racked her brains for a solution.

“Well, Dixie's got puppies to look after! Garth, Travis and Winona can get into a heap a'trouble if she ain't watchin' them. But she barked at 'em and they all ran outside into the fields.”

“I didn't hear any barking last night,” said Uncle Fritter.

“She, uh, she barked real quiet-like. Walked up to the table and went 'woof' like a whisper and they all ran.”

“And how do you know all this?” said Auntie Brown Betty. “You know you're not supposed to get out of bed once you're in it.”

“I – I heard everythin'! The mice were pretty loud when they were runnin' around. And I got good hearin' too. That's how I heard Dixie.”

“So how did you know they ran off into the fields unless you were watching them?”

Applejack could feel sweat running down her head now. She swallowed again and tried to come up with a response. It wasn't easy at all with them all staring at her.

“Applejack, what did your granny tell you about lying?” said Uncle Fritter.

He knew! He must have figured out when she didn't answer after so long. She glanced up again to see their disappointed faces and looked down at the ground. Her head hung low and her ears drooped against her head.

“That she didn't raise no liar,” she finally said in a small voice. “I'm the one who ate all the cookies. I'm sorry, and I'm sorry about sneakin' out and I'm sorry about lyin' about it.”

The look on Auntie Brown Betty’s face made Applejack want to run and hide in shame, but she stood her ground.

“Well, you should be sorry, young filly,” said Auntie Brown Betty. “When I tell you to do something, I expect you to obey me. Just because you don't like a rule doesn't mean you can ignore it. You have been nothing but trouble for me since I arrived.”

“But Auntie,” Applejack protested, “I was so hungry I couldn't fall sleep! My tummy wouldn't stop rumblin' and I had to do somethin,’ ‘cause you didn’t give me enough soup! Why’re you bein’ so mean to me anyway?”

“That is enough out of you!” said Auntie Brown Betty, rising.

“Betty-” said Uncle Fritter, but she glared him into silence.

“You treat me with the proper respect, young filly. Do you understand?”

“No I won’t!” shouted Applejack. Tears leaked down her face, but she didn’t stop. “Not until you start bein’ nice!”

“What's all the ruckus in here?” called a voice from the living room. Everypony turned to look at the door and there stood Granny Smith, trembling on four legs but stable otherwise. Nurse Gurney stood just behind her, one hoof on a wheelchair and an annoyed look on her face. Applejack and Big Macintosh ran over to give Granny a hug.

“Granny!” said Applejack, anger completely forgotten. “You’re home!”

“Durn right I am!” she replied, nuzzling them. “They got so tired of me askin’ to go home that they let me out a day early.”

“Is that a good idea?” said Uncle Fritter.

“Doctor Lancet said it was fine,” said Nurse Gurney, “so long as she stays off her hooves as much as possible over the next week.”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course I will,” said Granny Smith. “I’ll heal sooner if I’m at home anyway. Thanks for the lift, Nurse.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll drop by tomorrow with your medicine.” With that, the nurse turned and left, closing the door behind her. Granny Smith tottered over to the sofa and carefully sat down.

“Now, who wants to explain to me why a little filly was yelling at her auntie when I walked in?”

“She didn’t give me enough dinner last night,” Applejack started. “I was hungry all night, so-”

“Your granddaughter has been nothing but stubborn, rude and disrespectful all week,” said Auntie Brown Betty, cutting the filly off. “She eats like a pig, starts fights when she’s bored, steals food out of the kitchen in the middle of the night and has generally made herself out to be a perfect nuscience! I did my best to teach her how to be a proper lady, but there is simply no hope for her. My Honeydrop would never have behaved so atrociously.”

“Ain’t your Honeydrop a grown mare by now?” asked Granny Smith.

“Well, yes, and she’s a perfect lady, too! Never so ill-behaved as Applejack.”

“I-” Applejack tried to protest, but she realized that her auntie was right. She had eaten all the cookies, she had started that fight with Big Mac and she had ruined the dress. Granny always said to always tell the truth, no matter what. If the truth was that she was a bad pony, then she had to face it.

“I’m sorry for bein’ so bad, Auntie,” she said. “And I’m sorry for not obeyin’ like I should have.”

“There, was that so hard?” said Auntie Brown Betty. “You’ll learn how to respect your elders yet.”

Granny Smith narrowed her eyes. “Jackie, take a walk. I need to talk with your auntie.”

Applejack, despite her shame, made one last attempt to explain herself. “Granny, I didn’t mean to eat the whole thing! I just wanted one cookie-”

“You’ll get your chance to explain your side soon enough,” said Granny. “Now get.”

-=-

Twenty minutes later, Big Mac was calling for his sister from the farmhouse porch. Applejack rose from where she had laid under a tree, staring up at the sky, and headed toward the house. Granny Smith was waiting inside, still sitting on the couch. Her expression didn’t seem to have changed from earlier and Applejack didn’t meet her eyes. Auntie Brown Betty had probably told Granny exactly why she was such a bad little pony, and now Granny had no choice but to punish her too.

“Alright, young’un,” Granny said. “Let’s hear your side of it.”

Applejack nodded once, then began to recount most of everything that had happened that week. She didn’t really want to accuse Auntie Brown Betty of being mean to Granny. After all, she was still family. But Applejack was nothing if not honest and so she told the truth, as best as she could.

“- and then you came home,” finished Applejack. “I know I’m s’posed to love her no matter what, and I tried - I really did! - but it was so hard and she was always upset because I always did somethin’ wrong and I guess she was just mad at me for bein’ a bad pony. I tried not to be, but I guess I can’t help it!”

Tears welled up in her eyes again, but before they could escape, a hoof lifted her chin.

“Jackie, you are not a bad pony,” said Granny, staring into her eyes. “Brown Betty just misses her daughter and she thought you could take her place. You were just bein’ yourself. It weren’t right for her to get mad at you for that. She made a mistake and believe me, she’ll be apologizin’ for it soon enough.”

Applejack could only stare. Her grown-up, older, not-to-be-disobeyed auntie was wrong? Not only wrong, but owed her, a little filly, an apology?

Granny chuckled. “Sometimes, even grown-ups make mistakes. She’s got a lesson to learn.”

“So, I really ain’t a bad pony?” asked Applejack.

“Well, shoot, Jackie, o’ course you ain’t! You’ve got a heart o’ solid gold and you’re as good a pony as there ever was. And don’t let nopony ever tell you otherwise. Not even yourself.”

Applejack sniffled, but the tears that came out now were happy ones. Love stirred in her soul, bathing her heart in warmth and light. Of course she wasn’t a bad pony. Granny said so and Granny never lied. The filly hugged the elder mare tight, and the elder mare nuzzled the filly affectionately. They stayed like that, just holding each other, for a long time.

Comments ( 3 )

I love these stories. :heart::heart::heart:

Awesome

Very sweet, I want to see the reconciliation between AJ and her aunt though.

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