An Apple Family Hearth's Warming

by Quixotic Mage

Miraculous Visitors

Over the course of half an hour the noises grew quieter and quieter until Applejack was reasonably sure everypony had left for the night. At some point Apple Bloom had come into the kitchen and rested a hoof on Applejack’s shoulder before trotting over to the sink to take care of the last few mugs. Seeing her little sister step up like that was almost enough to make her smile.

Applejack was debating the merits of cleaning up against simply falling asleep face down on the counter when she heard a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it,” Apple Bloom said, shutting off the water and placing the last of the mugs in the dish rack. Applejack was more than content to let her handle it, sure that somepony had merely decided they needed an extra blanket or something.

The front door creaked open and there was a moment of silence. “Well you’re clearly Apples,” Applejack heard Apple Bloom say, “but I’m afraid I don’t know who you are.”

“We’ve come a real long way, sugarcube. Mind if we come in for a spell?” The voice was masculine, warm and deep. And yet, somehow, it was more than that. It wrapped around Applejack in a comforting embrace and she felt safe and protected for the first time since she was a filly. It put her in mind of deep roots and tilled earth. Foundational, that was the word for the voice.

“Why don’t you gather up Granny Smith, Big Mac, and Applejack? I think they’ll want to see us too.” A second voice spoke, this one feminine. Sweet and musical it fell on Applejack’s ears like rain to the parched earth. Love. The voice was love itself. The love of leaves for the warm sun and the blue sky above. A love of growth and life and wonder.

Distantly, she heard Apple Bloom lead the strangers into the main room and seat them by the fire. Her little sister’s hooves clip-clopped up the stairs as she went to gather Big Mac and Granny Smith. Moving as if in a dream, Applejack raised her head and drifted toward the kitchen door. Slowly she peeked her head around the corner and took her first look at the visitors.

Seated before the Hearth’s Warming fire were her parents, Bright Mac and Pear Butter.

Pear Butter saw her first and her face lit up with pure joy. Bright Mac caught sight of his wife’s expression and he turned and saw her too. His grin was so wide it threatened to split his face in two. Both held out their forelegs for an embrace.

Applejack stumbled forward. “How? You can’t be here. It ain’t possible.” And then she took that last step and she was wrapped in her parents’ tight embrace.

“My dear dear daughter,” Pear Butter whispered. “My strong little pony.”

“Sugarcube,” was all Bright Mac said, but he held her tight enough to convey all the words he didn’t say.

They were warm against her fur. There was that smell that always reminded her of mother that she only now recognized as the scent of pear blossoms. And there was the smell of apples and hay that had always, always meant home.

“You’re here. Ma, Pa, you’re really here.” And the tears that Applejack had held inside her all evening, the tears that she had refused to cry ever since their funeral all finally found their way out.

“We’re here, Applejack,” Bright Mac said, rubbing her back in soothing circles. “You’ve had to be strong for the family for so long. But you’re safe here in our arms.”

Footsteps on the stairs and then Granny Smith saw just who it was that was visiting.

“My son, oh my son,” Granny Smith cried, rushing forward with Big Mac close behind. Pear Butter and Bright Mac’s embrace expanded to hold their family.

A small voice came stairs. “Applejack, is that really Mom and Dad?” Apple Bloom asked. She didn’t know, couldn’t know because she’d been too little to remember when they’d died, and she looked to the closest pony she had to a mother for confirmation.

The family looked back at her, eyes all shining with tears. Somehow, Applejack managed to swallow past the lump in her throat. “It’s them,” she said. “Mom and Dad have come home.”

Apple Bloom took a running start and leapt to join the group hug. The family, whole for the first time, sank to the floor by the fire, laughing and crying in equal measure.

It was a long time before anypony calmed enough to talk. Finally, the tears dried and laughter died down to the occasional giggle. Applejack asked the question that was on everypony’s mind.

“But how, how can you two be here?”

Bright Mac sat up straight and spoke in an imperious tone. “When the stars align with the paths of the apple orchard, when the family gathers near the zap apple grove, then the sands of time shall turn back and – ow!”

Pear Butter had swatted him upside the head and knocked him over into a nearby pile of pillows. “Quiet you. Stop tellin’ stories.”

Bright Mac came up pouting as his family chuckled at him. “I was just trying to make it interesting for them.”

His wife rolled her eyes, then turned to the family. “The truth is we don’t know. Maybe it’s magic, or mystery, or maybe one of the pies was off and this is a weird dream. We do know that we’ll be gone in the morning, so let’s make the most of the time we have.”

How do you fit a lifetime of the moments parents should have with their children into a single night? It’s impossible, of course, but the Apple family did the best they could with the time they had unexpectedly been given.

The night remained a happy blur to the living Apples, but a few moments stood out:

Big Mac sharing a cider with his father and hearing his father say, “I’m proud of who you’ve become, my son.” Telling his mother about the nice mare he’d met and receiving her advice on how to woo and win her heart, and what to do when he’d settled down.

Apple Bloom peppering her parents with the questions that had plagued her all her life. Hearing the story of how her parents had met in their own words. Showing off the cutie mark she’d finally earned and drinking in the approval she’d never thought she’d receive. Laughing as her father placed his Stetson on her head just in front of her bow.

Granny Smith receiving the thanks of her son and daughter-in-law for raising their children in their place. Reassuring her that the love she’d showered on the children, though it could never take the place of a parent’s love, had been exactly what the children needed. Whispering to her in words too quiet for the children to hear that when her time came they’d be waiting for her on the other side.

Applejack catching her father’s smile as his eyes darted to her Stetson and he said in words heavy with meaning, “so you kept it after all.” Shaking her hair loose and sitting by the fire as Pear Butter did up her braid just as she had when Applejack was a foal. Telling her parents about the evening's ups and downs and hearing their reassurances that she had done well with the celebration and that the family would forgive her for her small transgression.

They stayed up through the night, because how could you sleep those precious impossible moments away? And when the dawn neared the family bundled up against the cold and trotted out to the orchard’s hill to watch the sunrise.

As the night grew brighter the shapes of Pear Butter and Bright Mac, nestled in the heart of their family, grew fainter. The family kept speaking and laughing together, but the words were unimportant compared to the feeling behind them.

At last Bright Mac shook himself and stood. “It’s time,” he said.

There were no pleas for them to stay a little longer. All present knew that this night had been a gift unlooked for. To ask for more would have been so greedy as to render them unworthy of the given time. Instead, they simply offered tearful farewells.

Bright Mac and Pear Butter hugged each of their family in turn.

“We love you all,” they said together.

Applejack’s heart felt full near to bursting from the love of her family, as her parents turned and walked off into the rising sun.

There would be challenges in life, she knew, and perhaps the most immediate of those were early rising and irate members of her extended family. Ruffled fur would have to be soothed and apologies made.

She could handle it now.

No that’s not fair to say. Applejack was a strong and determined pony. She would have been able to handle it regardless. Now, though, after that miraculous night, she could handle it with a spring in her step and lightness in her heart.

Smiling broadly, she turned to Granny Smith, Big Mac, and Apple Bloom and gave voice to the feeling that filled her.

“Come on Apples, there’s work to be done!”

Author's Note:

This story was inspired by this pmv (Link) and the album Roots by Woodlore (Link), especially the song "Shining Star".

I wanted to write an over the top happy story about family and togetherness for the holiday. More, I wanted to write about something utterly impossibly wonderful happening. I think as an author I often end up feeling like I'm putting characters I like in difficult situations for my own amusement and I wanted this story to be the opposite of that. Namely, a character placed in a happy situations regardless of the quality of the story produced. I think it's possible a better story would have left out Applejack's parents entirely and been about the challenges of handling families expectations, but that wasn't the story I wanted to write.

Happy holidays and I hope you have a wonderful new year!

Comments

[Xena Skywalker]

This was a very good story. I cried on the last chapter.