Seasons

by I_Regret_Nothing

Chapter Two.

Author's Note:

Initially I had thought to this as a series of one-shot chapters but this chapter grew organically and it's a better read split into two halves. I hope you enjoy it!

1004 A.D., Autumn

Trotting through town always made the dusty cowpony nervous. You could tell that Ponyville wasn’t a planned city like Fillydelphia or Baltimare - the streets had a haphazard feel to them, lacking the order and organization that gave life structure. One minute, you were walking down the street between brightly-painted homes and storefronts. If you weren’t careful and didn’t mind your step, you’d end up in a dead-end alley or somepony’s front yard.

That’s not to say the little town lacked energy. Farmers like her and townpony merchants were bustling through the streets, hurriedly setting up shop for a day in the market. Everypony was busy and upbeat conversation pulsed through the crowd.

Talking, gossiping, laughing, and joking. The non-stop exchange of words and ideas had made her anxious as a young filly. She was a good listener, and always had been; patiently sitting through hours of family stories with her granny, coaxing a few words out of her older brother, always deep in thought. Eavesdropping on her parents’ plans for the future and the farm.

Applejack still liked to listen, but market day was a sensory overload. There was always so much going on, so many faces passing through the crowd. That’s partly why she loved her apple orchards so much; you could see for miles through them, every tree having been planted to-order and trimmed of barren low-hanging branches. It was quiet there, and though the trees spoke to her in their own way, it was a sanctuary for Applejack. She was grateful that Big Mac had market duty today, charged with selling pastries, apples, and apple pastries to hungry ponies.

So here she was, having finished her chores and rustled up her younger sister. Apple Bloom pranced next to her, keeping stride despite needing two steps for each of Applejack’s. The excitement in the crowd fueled the filly and made her chattier than usual, in spite of the small - but heavy - saddlebags she carried.

“Ah love when the harvest market is busy like this!” Apple Bloom squealed, her eyes dashing from one salespony’s wares to the next. They passed a cart full of bright yellow lemons and fresh green limes. The Apple family grew almost all of their own produce on the farm, but not everything took to Ponyville’s mild climate. Some vegetables grew better in cooler regions, and citrus like those lemons and limes needed a warmer environment.

Fishing out a hooffull of bits from one of her saddlebags, Applejack beckoned to her little sister. “Bloom, run over and get half a dozen of them fruits. Three yellah, three green. An’ be sure to thank the salespony.”

Apple Bloom paused before taking the bits. “Three lemons and three limes?”

Applejack nodded pleasantly and watched as her sister wove through the pressing crowd and made the exchange. Fruits safely in hoof, she stored them in her saddlebags and carved a path back the way she’d came.

Now why did I say the colors, Applejack asked herself. Her sister was still a filly, sure, but she was coming into her own more and more by the day. She knew what limes and lemons were, and didn’t need color-coded direction. Were she a little older, or maybe a little more proud, Applebloom mighta been insulted.

The tall pony sighed and continued to move through the crowd once her sister rejoined her. Little Apple Bloom was growing up, and nothing would stop that. Pretty soon she’d be bucking trees herself rather than running between baskets, tossing in the spares that initially missed their mark. But apple-bucking season was still a few weeks away, so they had at least another year to wait until Apple Bloom could really come off the sidelines and lend a hoof.

Their progress slowed as they got nearer to the town’s central square. The blocks immediately around town hall had been planned neatly, thank Celestia, and Applejack would have had a clear view from one street to the next if not for the thriving harvest market. They’d gotten the fruit sooner than expected, but now Applejack’s mental checklist was thrown out of order.

She needed someplace to think. She also needed to empty her own saddlebags before loading them up again with more groceries. Thankfully, she knew just the place to get both done.

Turning off onto a side street and out of the bustling crowd, Applejack looked over back her shoulder to check for Apple Bloom. She was a step behind but hustled to catch up, walking shoulder-to-shoulder in pace with her sister. Applejack couldn’t help but allow a little grin at the pony’s persistence.

Of course she was smiling for another reason. The Carousel Boutique towered over the both of them, ribbons tossed lazily in the wind. The polished bay windows looked out onto the street and Applejack briefly saw herself and Applebloom reflected in them.

She paused not far from the door and shook quickly, whipping her tied-off tail from side to side. A cloud of dirt and dust from their journey to town fell away from her flanks. Satisfied, she looked down at Apple Bloom with an expectant eye.

“Do we hafta?”

“You know Ah won’t hear tha end of it if we don’t, sugarcube,” Applejack replied. “Miss Rarity doesn’t track mud in our home, we won’t do any less to hers.”

Apple Bloom glowered but complied. She watched the motes of dust fall away, some shining in the light, and settle to the earth. “Ah don’t know why ya care so much. A little dirt never hurt nopony.”

“Ah don’t,” Applejack answered easily, but then she pursed her lips and went on, a little more slowly, “but it’s important to her, so it’s important to me.”

That seemed to satisfy the filly, who cocked her head off to the side, ears flicking in curiosity. Or maybe in mischief. “And she’s important to ya?”

Applejack looked at her sister steadily, her mouth set in a firm line. A smile tugged at the corner but she suppressed it. “She sure is. Just like your friends Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo are ta you.” Apple Bloom nodded innocently and started for the door, eyes averted.

She wouldn’t understand, Applejack mused, at least not ‘til she’s older. But another voice in her head asked uncertainly: Or would she? Would Big Mac understand, much less Granny? What about their friends and neighbors?

“Can I knock?” asked Apple Bloom, a hoof already at the door.

Applejack nodded, Apple Bloom knocked on the door, and after a few heartbeats a muffled voice from inside the boutique beckoned them inside. Rarity was usually open for business on market day, entertaining customers in the lobby while adjusting her apparel arrangements.

But today the only pony in sight was a bored Sweetie Belle, idly doodling with some markers and paper. The little unicorn looked up and halfheartedly greeted them.

“Hey,” she huffed, “Rarity’s in the upstairs workroom. There’s some fashion catastrophe or something, she won’t let me help.” Sweetie Belle’s frown deepened as she pantomimed Rarity’s inflection, “She says, it is too delicate, dear, even for your considerable talents.”

Applejack cut in before Apple Bloom could say something regrettable. Why did she assume the little filly would do that, though? Her studies with Zecora and Twilight, not to mention Bloom's upbringing among good ponies, had done wonders for her manners.

“Ah’ll check in on her. Just here to drop off some apples, but Ah’ll be quick not to get caught up in her hurricane.” Applejack smiled knowingly at Sweetie Belle. “Ah know how she gets with these fashion disasters of hers. Y’all play in here ‘til I get back.”

Rarity liked having refreshments set out for her guests, and that included apple slices fresh from the farm. So Applejack made the journey every week to deliver fresh fruit. All to support her business, of course. If a couple of choice selections or a mason jar of cider made its way to Rarity’s personal kitchen, it was hardly worth noting.

But Applejack didn’t understand the Canterlot-minded ponies that frequented Rarity’s boutique. They seemed to exclusively prefer the tart, almost-bitter green apples from the northern orchards. The sweet, crisp apples that Ponyville’s townponies cherished were always passed by. She’d asked Rarity about it, once, but earned an earful about “the aesthetic” for her trouble.

Saddlebags emptied into Rarity’s cupboards and a tasteful wood-carved bowl in the kitchen, Applejack turned her attention to the upstairs workroom. It seemed to be a maelstrom of activity; just as she had feared. She carefully climbed the stairs, turned the corner down a hallway, and arrived to a closed door. Something was banging against a wall in there, and the sewing machine’s whirring had not ceased since they had entered the boutique.

Steeling herself, Applejack nudged the door open and peered inside.

It was a chaos of industry. Fabrics, pincushions, measuring tape, ribbons, a shimmering cloud of sequins, and bits of clothing Applejack couldn’t begin to identify were all soaring through the air in a flurry of activity. She watched as the stitches and knobbed buttons detached from a thick winter coat, reducing it to neatly-trimmed fabric, then all were stored away. The sky-blue magic aura enveloping everything pulsed with energy.

Applejack gulped. She’d learned the hard way not to get too deep into that tangled mess of materials. One misstep had cost her half a day’s labor as Rarity’s model, the threat of a thousand pins, needles, and flashing scissors keeping her in place. It wasn’t an experience she was eager to relive.

“Rare,” she called out uneasily, trying to spot an ivory flank or violet mane inside the whirlpool of motion, “it’s me, Apple Bloom is downstairs with Sweetie Belle. Yah alright in there?”

There was a pause, maybe a hesitation before Rarity responded. “Fine, darling! Everything is fine!” A forest-green dress trailing fringed lace nearly caught in a buzzing sewing machine but was jerked aside at the last moment. “This is fine!”

Applejack snorted but did not enter the room, still talking through a crack in the doorway. “Sure it is, sugarcube. Anyway Ah I can help?”

“Oh, no, dear,” Rarity’s clipped tones answered. Applejack squinted and was able to make out the unicorn’s silhouette buried inside the mess. She continued: “I have everything I need upstairs!”

“Well, what about downstairs? Sweetie Belle’s holding down yer storefront?”

“The boutique is closed! Appointments only today and tomorrow, I’m afraid.”

That was surprising. Few ponies were as industrious as Rarity or as generous with their time. “So what’s the occasion? Looks like yer taking these fancy clothes apart rather’n stitchin’ things together?”

Rarity wailed. “That is the heart of my problem! All of my seasonal lines are created two seasons before they are due to hit hangers in my boutiques, yes?”

“Ah reckon?”

“You do! But the danger in planning so far ahead is that fads may arise and throw everything awry. That is the misfortune that plagues me,” Rarity’s voice turned venomous, “and it is all Charming Chic’s fault.”

“What now?” Applejack leaned harder into the door but kept her feet rooted to the floor. To cross that doorway was testing fate. A series of vacant metal hangers crashed and spun through her field of vision, making the earth pony jump in surprise.

“Charming Chic,” Rarity pronounced flatly. Applejack could hear the unicorn’s eyes rolling in disdain. “She is hardly charming, and her sense of chic is debatable. But that mare has the ear of influential ponies; Hoity Toity - you remember him, yes? - among them.

“Chic has it in her mind that silk is the lining of choice for this winter’s series. Regardless of the cost to ponies whose means are less well-off,” Rarity coughed demurely, but emphatically, “nor to the cares of suppliers all over Equestria. She believes the sheen it presents is irreplaceable, even if impractical.”

Applejack scratched her head in thought. “Ain’t none of this practical, if ya don’t mind mah asking?”

“That isn’t the point, dear,” Rarity replied in a lilting sing-song, “but now every winter coat, frock, jacket, and shawl that I have designed must have its satin replaced with silk! Every stitch and button removed, the satin returned to its bolts, new silk measured and trimmed to fit. On everything!”

“Sounds an awful lot like tha worst poss-”

“It is!” A hamper of spare fabrics fell over inside the room and Rarity shouted in alarm, but followed up with a brief, “I’m okay!”

“Well can’t Ah do somethin’ while you're all tangled up like this?”

Rarity paused in thought while her magic continued to the rapid assembly around her. “I suppose you could go to market for me. I shan’t escape the house while dealing with this.”

Applejack’s chin rose at that prospect. “Want me to take Sweetie Belle along? She an’ Bloom can lend a hoof. She seemed awful bored down in the lobby.”

Rarity sniffed in derision. Applejack wasn’t going to question how she heard it over the crash and din of Rarity’s workshop. “Sweetie was minding the foyer, darling. Hotels have lobbies,” she huffed, “not my boutiques.

“But yes,” she answered, “today’s only appointments have come and gone. I imagine Sweetie was at her wit’s end; I will have to make it up to her. But if you would not mind, escorting her to the harvest market would be very generous of you.”

“We’d be happy to,” Applejack began, tipping her hat. She stopped herself mid-salute - nopony would see it. “Ya got a list of groceries?”

“It’s on the kitchen counter!”

Taking Rarity’s rushed tone as her sign to get out of Dodge, Applejack shouted back her good-bye: “We’ll get right to it. Don’t go and overwork yourself in there, Rare.” She thought for a moment. “Don’t forget to drink lots o’ water.”

Rarity laughed and answered with something indecipherable, though it was lost beneath the sounds of her work.

Applajack trotted back down the stairs towards the kitchen, grinning in satisfaction.

Comments

[I_Regret_Nothing]

8129278
Thank you for reading and commenting! I haven't written many narratives lately so I'm out of practice, though I was trying to channel some purple prose through Rarity's perspective. I imagine she observes everything with an artistic eye.

That said, I took more time with the second chapter and will more thoroughly edit subsequent entries to find a smoother flow in the narrative. Thank you again!

[Rose Quill]

Following because AJ and Rares are my fave two ponies and this has a lot of potential...

[I_Regret_Nothing]

8129741
Thank you! It's been fun to write this and I hope I do the characters justice.

[Applety]

I love what you have and I'm so tracking this! Please don't abandon it and keep it going! Applejack and Rarity are great characters and I ship them harder than anything, so there's that, but you write them well and tell your story well.

I want more and I can't wait to get more! So please, keep up the good work!

Side note, I love the difference in tone from Rarity and Applejack. Rarity having more prose in her thoughts makes logical sense and adds a sense of whimsy to her that only she can provide. I also love how these stories could easily be connected sequentially, I hope they are too honestly. And I love that you can tell that AJ is already aware of her feelings to Rarity whereas Rarity probably hasn't figured hers out yet. I loooove it!

[I_Regret_Nothing]

8142432
Thank you for the kind words! I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I'm definitely going to keep updating it, just not sure how frequently. I'm working on the next chapter right now and have loose outlines and ideas for more in the works.

The chapters are running sequentially but I'm leaving the door open for flashbacks and time skips. Figuring out the unique tone for each perspective has been a fun challenge.

Thank you again, and stay tuned for updates!

[394VikingPinkiePie]

But Applejack didn’t understand the Canterlot-minded ponies that frequented Rarity’s boutique. They seemed to exclusively prefer the tart, almost-bitter green apples from the northern orchards. The sweet, crisp apples that Ponyville’s townponies cherished were always passed by. She’d asked Rarity about it, once, but earned an earful about “the aesthetic” for her trouble.

Oh dear, "the aesthetic" of course!

[394VikingPinkiePie]

Aww these two! It's lovely to see applejack knowing just what to do and say when rarity is so overworked :) cute chapter, I'm eager to read some more!