• Published 25th Oct 2020
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A Year in Equestria - Blade Star



Follow Bones and the Apple family through a year of life on Sweet Apple Acres.

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Chapter 1 - January

I’ve always loved snow. It’s a rare treat. When it has the discourtesy to arrive in December and hang around until March and make doing anything impossible, it becomes another matter, but that rare, brief dusting of snow that melts away a couple of days later has always filled me with a childlike wonder. It reminds me of the very rare white Christmases we had when I was just a boy. I certainly preferred it to the heat of the summer. If you got cold, you could head inside and warm up by the fire. There was no escaping the summer heat. It was also rather pleasing aesthetically. In those colder months, when rain was the default weather, the snow and frost would hide away the mud, leaving everything firm and crisp underfoot. No more slipping and sliding in the mud, just the sound of crunching snow under your boots. And if nothing else, it was just absolutely beautiful to look at, particularly out here, where there was nopony for miles around. There were no tracks, no ploughed and salted roads. For as far as the eye could see, there was just an unbroken blanket of pristine whiteness.

Sweet Apple Acres has many forms throughout the year. The changing seasons affect the farm in almost every way, seeming to change its very character. Right now, everything was peaceful, calm and serene. Everything was at rest as the winter slowly crept by. The trees in the apple orchard were bare of fruit and leaves, and were wrapped up to protect them against the cold. The fields were almost indistinguishable from the farm tracks, and it was only by carefully spotting the fence posts that jutted up through the drifts that you could tell where one ended and the other began. The only thing that broke the unending sea of white was the farmhouse and the surrounding buildings. The bright red stood out like a ship sailing on a strange sea, and come nightfall, when the cold temperatures would light the sky up as if it were filled with diamonds, the lights and fires of home could be seen from almost anywhere on the farm to guide you home.

It was early morning right now though, and most of those lights were off, although a thin grey plume slowly made its way up from the chimney. The fireplace in the living room had been burning almost non-stop, keeping the farmhouse, and the attached barn warm against the biting winter cold. I was certainly glad for my hide that kept the cold off, as well as the deep red scarf that was currently wrapped around my neck. Beyond that and my much loved stetson though, I had little need of other clothes. Applejack has however suggested I invest in some good boots for this kind of weather. If nothing else, having melted snow on your hooves when you come into the house is not a fun experience. Unless you consider freezing to be fun.

Standing on the threshold of the doorway that led out of the kitchen, I strained to listen with my much more sensitive equine ears. There was a little wind blowing at the moment, but nothing too harsh, more like a gentle breeze. You could hear the odd birdsong, and the gentle babbling of a nearby stream. But beyond that, there was nothing but beautiful silence. I still couldn’t believe how lucky I was, even after all these years.

I mean here I was, a human who found himself turned into a unicorn. That alone was weird enough when I look back on where I thought my life was heading before I ended up here. But since arriving here, I’ve found myself a job, a home, learnt more than I thought I could in a lifetime, and I even found love. So I guess strange interdimensional portals aren’t all bad. I certainly wouldn’t trade this place, Hell, even this moment, for anything.

As I enjoyed the tranquil silence, my sensitive equine ears picked up a sound coming from behind me. Turning around, I looked back into the farmhouse. The place was just what you might expect from a rural farm in the Midwestern United States; rustic and homely. The floor underhoof was mainly wooden floorboards, while the nearby walls, apart from the painted skirting boards, were wallpapered with an apple motif of some sort, or painted in earthy tones. Along the walls you’d find family photographs going back three generations at least. It was well kept, but hardly the lap of luxury. Then again, I doubt its owners would care for something so ostentatious. Everything was practical and simple, but at the same time held a sentimental value. The kitchen where I had just come from, and whose door led out into the snow covered farmyard reflected this. There was a basic sink and stove, with cupboards for storage, a simple wooden table with place settings for five. On the one wall were pans and utensils hanging and ready for use. And up one corner there hung a barometer, which was currently sitting at ‘fair’. It was your classic home country kitchen, from which all sorts of delicious home cooked meals came from.

There was however, one exception to all this plain and simple aesthetic, and that was the pony who now stood before me. She was an earth pony, meaning she had neither a horn nor wings, but was gifted with great endurance, and strength enough to make even Superman sit up and take notice. It would be a crime to describe her as plain. She was a touch shorter than me, but not by much and was quite able to look me in the eye, and her form showed that she was a mare who wasn’t afraid of a little hard work. Her coat was warm orange that stood in sharp contrast to the coal dust grey of my own. Her mane was a light blonde. She kept it long, but had styled it in, if you’ll excuse the expression, a pony tail, with a bright red ribbon keeping it tied together. This now hung loosely over her right shoulder. The rest was covered up by a stetson hat similar to my own, although hers was a lighter shade, verging on butternut. She had a soft friendly face, with three adorable freckles on each cheek. A kind smile and sparkling green eyes that held a look of self assured confidence rounded out the package.

This was Applejack; the love of my life.

I’d first come across her back when she was nothing more than a fictional character in a kids' TV show. I’d spent about a year watching episodes before we actually met in person. I always liked her character; honest, hard working, kind to everypony she came across, but still with her own flaws and foibles. She could be as stubborn as a mule and her protective big sister instincts had more than once annoyed her younger sister, and like a lot of the Apple family, she could be set in her ways at times. But at the same time, you could count on her to help you out when you were in trouble, and let’s face it, when I first got here, she and her family took me in, gave me food and a bed when they had almost no idea who I was. I owed her more than I could ever repay.

Still, I volunteered and tried to help out on the farm while my family and I were stranded here. I knew jack about farming, but Applejack taught me the basics; enough to help out at any rate. We’d quickly become friends. Applejack respects a pony who’s willing to work hard. She was intrigued by what I could tell her about life on Earth, and some of the commonalities between there and Equestria. She also helped me get used to the new pony body I found myself saddled (if you’ll excuse the pun) with.

After it became clear we would be stuck here longer than a couple of weeks, my residence on the farm became permanent. The family were more than happy for me to stay with them long term, to help lighten the load of farm work if nothing else. By then Applejack and I had become good friends, to the point that I actually felt relieved when it became clear that we wouldn’t be parting ways for some time.

However, it wasn’t too long after I got back to the farm that things began to change. It was subtle at first, and I hardly noticed it. But little by little, I began to think of Applejack as something more than just a friend. I’d made all sorts of friends in my relatively short time in Equestria. Twilight and I had naturally bonded due to our shared interest in magic, books, and a half dozen other things. I’d also been lucky enough to meet both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, with the latter and I eventually becoming close friends, developing a sort of mentor and student relationship. But Applejack was different. I found myself longing for her company when she wasn’t around, and happy whenever we had the chance to be together.

At first, I just disregarded it as a passing crush. After all, she was pretty, as far as magical technicolour ponies go, and the two of us had become close friends over the past month or so. But it didn’t go away. If anything it intensified. Now, at that point, I’d never been in love in my life. I was pretty much convinced and do somewhat maintain that I’m asexual. Even with this crush, I had little interest in jumping her bones. But I did find myself seeking that emotional closeness. Still, there was no way that she’d return my feelings, right?

So I buried my head in the sand like a fool for the next few weeks. Even when Applejack began to show signs of returning my affections, I still didn’t allow myself to take the plunge and act on my feelings. Looking back on it now, I feel like an idiot. I almost let The One get away. Had events not transpired as they did, Applejack may well have decided I was not interested. In the end, it took a certain romance loving fashion designer, and no less than the Princess of Love herself to give me the kick in the rear I needed. Rarity realised what was going on when the two of us happened to get to talking about Applejack. She actually smacked me when she realised I had no idea that AJ was interested in me. But it was Princess Cadence who finally drew back the veil.

I have to admit, before I wound up here, I never really liked Princess Mi Amore Cadenza . I always figured she existed just to sell more toys for Hasbro. Plus, I always thought her ‘love magic’ was way too close to the magic used by the changeling that tried to impersonate her. I thought she forced ponies to fall in love. But in that regard, I was mistaken. It’s a little hard to describe what it is. The best description I can give is that her magic causes the fog to lift. It doesn’t create any new feelings in ponies, it just makes them more apparent. And her intervention helped me realise that love I felt for Applejack, which I had previously been repressing under layers of claimed asexuality and mental dysfunction brought on by bad experiences in high school.

The two of us had talked that evening, and from there, entered into a most unusual relationship.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Bones,” she said as she adjusted her own stetson. “Ready to head out?”

“Sure, AJ,” I replied with a nod. “It doesn’t seem to be too cold out there now. The wind has really died down overnight. Should be quite nice to walk around the farm.”

“Just make sure you check all the trees, Bones,” she reminded me. “The last thing we need is any of ‘em comin’ down with disease or gettin’ gnawed on by varmints.”

Yes, while it was very pretty outside, the two of us did have work to do today. Ever since winter set in, the two of us have been making a circuit around the farm once a week, checking on all the apple trees to ensure they’re free of disease and that no pests are taking up residence nearby. Sweet Apple Acres isn’t that far from the Everfree Forest, a deeply unsettling patch of woodland whose flora and fauna operate on a different rule set from the rest of Equestria. So it wasn’t an impossibility that wildlife from in there, looking to get away from the timberwolves, cockatrices, and manticores, might venture onto the farm and take an interest in the apple trees. And there was always Angel Bunny, the King of Varmints, although the apple trees were a little large for him to bother, but we had other crops.

“Ain’t that the truth,” I agreed, turning back to the open doorway. “Come on, let’s head out before we let all the warmth out.”

And so the two of us set out on our trek around the farm. I quickly found myself envying the jacket and small green boots that Applejack had on to protect herself from the cold snow.


The snow, to be fair, wasn’t that deep, but metal horseshoes hardly helped matters. Still, at least the wind was pretty calm and a soft winter sun was shining in the clear blue sky. It reminded me of Lapland somewhat. Our breath turned into vapour, vanishing a moment later in the crisp morning air. We had a bit of a walk to start with.

You see, Sweet Apple Acres is divided up into various orchards, fields, and other points of interest. The farmhouse and barn from which we’d just come was at the near centre of the property, with paths and tracks extending outward like spokes on a wheel, with a single main thoroughfare that led to the edge of the farm and set you on the main road into Ponyville, the nearest town to the place. We’d be going through just the orchards today. The fields for other crops, such as carrots and grapes to name a couple, were all covered with snow at this point. However, while the apple trees were bare, they still needed to be checked regularly to guard against pests and disease. The orchards were divided up around the points of the compass, so you had a north orchard, north east, east, south east, and so on. Each one had hundreds of apple trees, and was subdivided into various sections reflecting the age and use of those particular trees. Some were newly planted this year and would be harvested this coming fall. Others had come to the end of their time and had been earmarked for felling next month, so be replanted with new stock in the spring. Then of course, you had special sections of the farm, such as the zap apple trees in the southern orchard, or the vampire fruit bat reservation in the north east orchard. All had to be checked and inspected.

Still, before we started any of that, we had to get there. The best way we’d found was to head to the north orchard, and from there work our way around the farm in a clockwise fashion, before heading back to the farmhouse. It would take the better part of a day, to the point that Applejack had brought along a pair of saddlebags filled with lunch and a thermos full of coffee.

For a while, the two of us walked in companionable silence. A lot of people say that silence is unsettling. And while in some cases that can be true, at times like this, it just adds to the serenity of our surroundings. The two of us didn’t need to say anything to each other as we walked side by side through the soft snow. The bond we have, odd though it might be to some, exists beyond mere words; it is an unspoken closeness and familiarity. I know for a fact that Shining Armor and Princess Cadence have something similar.

Eventually though, Applejack felt the need to chat a little. And while there may be nothing wrong with silence, it’s also nice to talk to your marefriend as you walk along together on a winter morning.

“It sure is beautiful, ain’t it, Bones?” she said, turning to me. I nodded.

“It sure is, AJ,” I replied. “I kinda feel guilty for walkin’ through the snow like this. Like I’m damagin’ it somehow.”

“Well, Rainbow says we’re due for another flurry tonight,” Applejack replied. “I reckon give it an hour or so, and y’all would never have guessed anypony walked here.”

“The school must look mighty beautiful as well with all this snow,” I added.

In addition to looking after the farm, Applejack is a professor teaching at Princess Twilight’s School of Friendship. The place just finished its first year and, apart from a couple of mishaps, had done a great deal in spreading the magic of friendship beyond Equestria and teaching ponies about the various creatures that lived beyond their borders.

It hadn’t been entirely plain sailing, mind you. In fact, one of its wannabe alumni had found herself arrested and imprisoned in Tartarus no less. Cozy Glow, a filly not yet ten years old, despite instruction from the mare beside me, Twilight, and her friends, had been unable to grasp the magic of friendship, and had instead sought to use it to somehow take over the realm. With the help of an evil centaur, Tirek, who Twilight and the others had seen off before, she tried to drain all the magic from Equestria. Fortunately, her fellow students managed to stop her before the damage she did had become irreversible.

Now, I’ve lived here a few years. I’ve been through insane centaurs, love stealing changelings, and even a mad monkey that tried to control the weather, but I never thought we’d be threatened by a little filly. Still, despite outward appearances, she had been very dangerous. Nonetheless, the revelation had surprised everypony. When magic started disappearing, they all figured Tirek was behind it. As it stands, I know they all, and Twilight in particular, were hurt by what happened to Cozy.

I shook that thought off. There were better things to ponder now. The other students had all graduated from their first year and would soon be returning to continue their studies, as would a whole new class of students.

“I sure am lookin’ forward to headin’ back in a month or so,” AJ agreed. “I know it means more work here, but it brings us a little more money, and it is great teaching everycreature about honesty.”

Honesty of course, is the element Applejack carries. I tell you, the mare is all but incapable of telling a lie. But on the flip side, she has a knack for spotting liars, say those irritating shysters Flim and Flam for example.

“I don’t mind,” I replied. “Particularly as I get to join you from time to time.”

After the semester ended, I broached the idea with Twilight of me possibly coming in to help out with the school too. While I do enjoy the farming life, my other hobby is magic. Finding myself a unicorn, from almost day one I was spending time with Twilight learning all I could. And I continue to do so today, in an amateur capacity at least. My interest lies in the relatively unexplored subject of dark magic, more specifically, how to counter it. I’m no Twilight Sparkle when it comes to magical might, but I can still contribute to the theoretical side of things, and there are plenty of spells that I can manage beyond that of your average unicorn. Twilight says I’m somewhat above average, I don’t hold a candle to her, but I pack more of a wallop than your average unicorn. The school has access to a huge library of resources, and in exchange for me doing my own research, I help cover classes from time to time.

Not today though. Right now, the school was locked up. The students had all gone home for the holidays and the teachers were busy with their other jobs. AJ here had her farm, Rarity her fashion business, Fluttershy her animal sanctuary, Pinkie had her job at Sugarcube Corner, Rainbow was an active Wonderbolt, and Twilight had her princess duties. Honestly, if it wasn’t for winter, closing the school and bringing life on the farm almost to a state of hibernation, Applejack would run herself ragged.

“The kids like you too,” Applejack added. “I know you and Gallus get on really well.”

That was one of the, shall we say, international students. He was a young griffon out of Griffonstone. By Equestrian standards, he came from a bit of a rough background. His parents were out of the picture and his only other relative was his cranky old bastard of a grandfather, who didn’t much care for him. Luckily, at the school, he had friends his own age, plus teachers who’d rally around him, myself included. He was a stand up guy too, considering he helped stop Cozy’s bonkers plan last autumn.

“Well, this place is still my first love. Well, after you anyway,” AJ chuckled at that and we both nuzzled for a moment.

Before too long, we arrived at our start point as it were. We were in the north orchard. Surrounding us were rows upon rows of apple trees, all bare now, their branches covered in snow and their trunks encased in protective covers, called trunk guards. They protected the bark of the tree against damage done by the winter sun, as well as stopping any animals from nibbling away in the cold winter months. In another month or so we’d be taking them off as the weather changed.

That wouldn’t be for a while yet though. For the time being, we were only doing a quick inspection of each tree, checking that the guard was still in place and ensuring that each tree was healthy and not being damaged by any wild animals. The walk here had warmed us up a fair bit, despite the cold morning.

“So, how do you want to do this?” I asked, turning to AJ again. “Divide and conquer?” She shook her head.

“I’d rather we stick together,” she replied. “Better to have two sets of eyes checkin’ each tree instead of one.” A fair point.

“It’ll take a lot longer that way,” I pointed out. Applejack shot me her signature look, raising one eyebrow.

“Got somewhere to be?” she asked in that soft drawl of hers. “Besides, it seems mighty un-gentlecolt-like of you to take a lady all the way out here and then just leave her all alone.”

“And I am nothin’ if not a gentlecolt,” I replied with a smile. I offered her the crook of my foreleg. “Shall we then?”

And with that, we set to work.


I won’t bore you with a blow by blow account of the next few hours. It wouldn’t make for particularly good reading, and I don’t think I have the skill to make inspecting thousands upon thousands of apple trees for damage or disease interesting. So, let’s have a bit of a highlight reel, shall we?

For the most part, the trees had endured the winter well, thanks to their protective shells. A few here and there had the odd minor ailment that would bear watching in the next few months, but there was nothing serious. Here and there, a couple of the trunk guards had come loose and partially fallen off, probably due to high winds we had when this snow first blew in. AJ and I used a combination of magic and pony power to put them back in place.

Not that Applejack needed my help in that department, mind. The mare is strong even by earth pony standards, surpassed perhaps only by her older brother, who I once recall, in the throes of a mishandled love poison, dragged a house clear off of its foundations and dragged it across town, bouncing all the way. Applejack’s most impressive feat in contrast, is probably the time she managed to catch and redirect a huge boulder that was...oh, no more than twenty times her size, which was about to land on a few other ponies. Needless to say, even if you count my magic, she had quite the edge on me. So you can imagine that she didn’t really need myself lifting the tree guards back into place. In fact, she could probably have lifted up the entire tree without too much effort. I certainly never want to find myself on the receiving end of one of her kicks. On that front, she outshines even Big Mac.

If nothing else though, it was nice to spend time together, effectively alone, as we worked our way through the orchards. We wound our way steadily around the points of the compass, checking the ancient trees that had been here since the founding of the farm, to the newest saplings planted last year, who needed to be carefully watched to ensure they survived this harsh winter.

Eventually though, we did come across something interesting, in a section of the farm that bordered the Everfree Forest. We weren’t too far from the vampire fruit bat reservation; the section of the farm that wouldn’t be harvested this year, but would be the following, while the bats would be shepherded to a new section of the orchards. The idea was by letting them have the place and eat the fruit, the next generation of trees would be hardier and produce a better crop. A short term loss for a long term gain. Anyway, this section in contrast, was still in use and come the autumn would be full of succulent apples ripe for harvesting.

At the moment though, there were signs of a potential problem on more than a few of the trees.

You see, the tree guards we had didn’t completely cover the trees. They covered a good portion of the trunk, sure, but as soon as this gave way to either branches up top, or roots down below as the tree spread out, the guard stopped. And around about half a dozen trees, you could see places where not only the bark, but also some of the tissue in some cases, had been nibbled away. Now, luckily, the damage on all of them was fairly light, certainly not being enough to warrant concern for the tree’s survival. However, the damage to the tree’s system would mean that the crop yield this year might be lower. And as on any farm, Sweet Apple Acres operated on somewhat narrow margins.

“Take a look at this,” I said, calling Applejack over. The mare frowned as she saw the damage.

“Dagnabbit,” she said crossly. “Darn varmints have been at it again.” I nodded in agreement.

“Eeyup,” I said, imitating her older brother. “Those rabbits are back.”

All through the winter, we’d been engaged in something of a guerilla war with a group of rabbits. Their warren had to be somewhere just outside the farm, near the Everfree Forest. Every now and then a band of them would come onto the farm and cause havoc, vanishing before morning. They’d nibble trees, dig up carrots and other crops, and sometimes even chew their way through fences. Up until now, we’d done our best to deter them, but with little success. Having read Watership Down as a child, I knew rabbits could be clever when they wanted to be. Were we in that story, I’d wager we were getting raided by the local Owsla on a Wide Patrol out of the Everfree. Putting beloved childhood books that I certainly, in hindsight, shouldn’t have given to a certain animal loving pegasus, aside, I turned my attention back to the injured trees. AJ has taught me a good deal over the years about looking after them. As I said before, the wounds weren’t too severe. Still, I always defer to the expert.

“What do you think?” I asked. “Should we leave them to heal on their own, or paint it over?” AJ joined me to take a look at the wounds.

“Well, it don’t look too bad,” she said after a moment. “If we just scrape away the loose bark, it should heal up fine.” I nodded in agreement.

“Fair enough,” I said. “But what about the rabbits? You know critters like that just keep comin’ until you get rid of ‘em. We gotta do somethin’.”

As an animal lover myself, I was loathe to do harm to rabbits, but if this kept up, they could do serious damage, and ultimately kill the tree by doing enough damage to its circulatory system that it couldn’t feed itself. Applejack had told how they had lost trees to deer many years ago, hence why they now used trunk guards every year.

Once upon a time, Applejack would have taken the direct approach to pest control. However, since the incident with the vampire fruit bats and the creation of the little reservation on the farm, she nowadays tends to favour more diplomatic solutions.

“Maybe we can ask Fluttershy to stop by,” she suggested. “I could get Winona to help us track the critters back to their homes, and then she could help us work things out.”

Fluttershy’s innate ability to communicate with animals has allowed her to serve as a mediator in similar situations, both here on the farm and elsewhere. After all, how else could she keep her animal sanctuary running peacefully, and have the lion, quite literally, lie down with the lamb? And, more to the point, have both get back up again unharmed.

“Sure sounds better than settin’ snares or puttin’ anythin’ down,” I agreed. “I was gonna go see Lizzie tomorrow anyway. Want me to stop by then?” Applejack nodded.


After that, the two of us paused in our journey around the farm for lunch. I don’t think the show ever really brought home just how large the entirety of Sweet Apple Acres is. It would take you the better part of five hours to walk from one side of the farm to the other as the crow flies. Going from the farmhouse to town isn’t as bad, but it’s still a good hour or so by hoof. As a result, it simply didn’t make sense to go all the way back to the farmhouse for lunch. By the time we’d have gotten back, had lunch and returned to where we’d been, it would almost be time to head home for dinner. So it made more sense to carry packed lunches, which Applejack had in the pair of saddlebags that were slung across her back.

Heading for a small clearing away from the trees, the two of us settled down on a log to rest our hooves. Celestia knows walking all day made them sore enough. We’d got coffee in a couple thermoses as well as a few dandelion sandwiches to snack on. Equestria hasn’t yet discovered granola bars or MREs. Still they were filling enough. I’d also brought my flint and steel with me. Bushcraft is one of the many things I’ve picked up living out here. After rooting around in the snow and gathering up some loose twigs and branches, I managed to get a decent fire going to warm us up. Fire spells are something I tend to stay away from, despite having my own horn. It’s easy enough to get it going, but much harder to control it to just make a small flame. Flint and steel was much easier.

The two of us sat side by side, the coffee and the campfire warming us up nicely. Still, I once again found myself jealous of AJ’s jacket and boots. We soon got to talking again after we’d taken the edge off of our hunger.

“It’s been a while since we both went out around the farm like this,” I commented, taking a bite out of my sandwich. “I’d forgotten how peaceful it can be out here.”

“Peaceful, sure,” Applejack agreed, extending her hooves out to the small fire. “But it sure is mighty cold this winter. I’m freezin’!”

It did seem to be getting a little colder. The wind had picked up a bit throughout the morning, making it feel noticeably colder than before. Aside from the fire, there was only one other way I could think of to keep warm, and it let me be a little romantic too. Shuffling over on the log, I wrapped a foreleg around Applejack and pulled her close. She was actually reasonably warm to the touch.”

“Bones!” she squeaked out in surprise. I chuckled.

“You said you were cold,” I replied with a grin. “Here.”

I unwound the scarf from around my neck and, with a bit of magic, wrapped it around her instead. It wasn’t doing me any good on its own anyway. AJ though, hates being made a fuss of, she likes to be independent and sometimes has trouble accepting help from others, a personality flaw we both share. Still, after resisting for a moment, she finally gave in and accepted the little gift.

“Thanks, Sugarcube,” she said as she leaned into me and rested her head on my shoulder, wrapping one of her own forelegs around my barrel.

That word still makes me cheeks blush and my heart flutter, even after all this time.


After lunch, we continued on our way around the farm. Luckily though, the rest of the orchards were all in good order, and it wasn’t too long before we were heading back to the farmhouse. It was getting on for early evening now. The wind had dropped, but so had the temperature. The winter sun hung low and bright in the sky, causing the soft snow to glitter as the light reflected through it. And while my teeth might have been chattering, I still loved how beautiful the winter was. That didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking of the roaring fire back at the farmhouse though.

And at least the snow wasn’t that deep. Big Mac and I had made homemade snowshoes a year or so back, after a snowstorm got out of control and dumped a good three feet on us before the Weather Patrol were able to shut it off and move it away. The world had a little more life in it now as we got closer to the farmhouse. Birds twittered and tweeted as they flittered from tree to tree as they settled down to roost for the night. The chickens we kept were doing the same, and were pottering around near their coop. And of course, you could hear the pigs grunting and oinking as they searched through the snow in their paddock for a last meal before bed.

Just as when we’d left that morning, the farmhouse, with its bright red paint stood out against the white of the snow that surrounded it. I could see a thin plume of grey smoke rising from the chimney, and picked up the smell of smoke and burning wood in the air.

“Whew, home at last,” I said to AJ as she walked alongside me. “I sure hope Granny’s got dinner nearly ready.”

“I’ll just be glad to get all this stuff off and warm up in front of the fire,” Applejack replied. “I just hope that...”

AJ’s words were cut off as I heard a dull thud close at hoof, followed by an angry cry from my marefriend. Turning around in surprise, I found AJ had had her hat knocked off, and a sizeable chunk of snow had now settled on the back of her neck. There were no trees above us, so there was only one other explanation.

“Apple Bloom!” Applejack called out in irritation as she searched for her little sister. I heard chuckling on the wind and a moment later spotted the little filly behind a snowdrift.

She’s still just a young filly, but was growing up fast. I quickly caught sight of the adorable pink bow in her mane, which was almost the size of her head. That led down to a light red mane and a yellow coat. As Applejack’s little sister, the two have a natural sibling relationship, although Applejack at times does act more like a mother to the little filly.

“Got ya, sis!” she called out from her cover.

After a long hard day of working on the farm, going from end to end, painstakingly checking each tree for damage or disease, you’d imagine that Applejack would be worn out, and it would be hard to blame her if she was cross with her little sister. But instead, Applejack leapt into the game with her younger sibling, quickly grabbing up a snowball and playfully hurling it back at her. The snowball sailed cleanly through the air, and the unprepared Apple Bloom caught it right on her pretty pink bow.

“Got ya back, Bloom!” AJ called back.

And as with all wars, with that first shot, things escalated. I of course, found myself in the proverbial no man’s land between the two warring sides. Not that any attempt at neutrality protected me from the snowy barrage, from both sides. In short order, I found myself pelted with snowballs and again regretted not bringing a warm jacket.

Before too long, the three of us had descended into a melee, with each of us throwing snow left, right and centre as we each ducked and dived to avoid the others. I managed to more or less ally myself with Applejack against the smaller filly. Despite the cold, and the long day, I found myself laughing and enjoying the simple pleasure of a snowball fight. It’s like old Mark Twain said; growing old is mandatory, growing up is optional. Eventually, we all came to a three way truce. The war had been short, but brutal, and all of us were now covered in snow. I was starting to feel a bit of a chill and my stomach was rumbling for food.

“Come on you two,” I said with a laugh and a smile. “Let’s head on in before it gets too cold.”

“Aww, c’mon, Bones,” Apple Bloom protested. “Can’t we stay out just a mite longer?”

“The snow will still be here tomorrow, AB,” I reassured her. “Besides, we keep this up all three of us are gonna catch a chill. Now come on. Granny’s gonna have supper on the table, and she’ll have my hide if y’all come in soaked and shiverin’.”

My words seemed to prompt Apple Bloom to remember that, with all the snow, she was now wet through and she began to shiver a little as the cold snow clung to her. It was more than enough motivation for her to head inside. Applejack followed behind us, trotting up alongside me as we made for the house.

“I had a real nice time today, Bones,” she said, taking a moment to shake the snow off of her hat. “Thanks for helpin’ out.”

“Ain’t no trouble, AJ,” I replied with a wave of a hoof.

As before, I extended out the crook of my foreleg for her. Applejack would never admit it, but she does admire little romantic gestures from time to time. With her on my arm...or...well, foreleg, we headed inside, enjoying the blast of warm air that hit us as we stepped inside.


It was indeed much warmer inside the farmhouse. Despite its humble appearance, wooden walls, and apparent lack of insulation, the place did a great job at retaining heat. In fact, it was more in the summer where it was a problem, because the house could get really warm at the height of summer, even with all the windows open. The kitchen was brightly lit as we walked in from the cold, pausing for a moment to knock the remaining snow from our hooves on the mat.

The first thing I noticed on walking in was the smell of dinner. Stood before the stove, stirring away at a large stew pot was Granny Smith, Applejack’s paternal grandmother and the last word on Sweet Apple Acres. She was getting on in years now, certainly almost eighty, if not a little older. But she continued to run the farm, albeit slowly turning over duties to her two older grandchildren. Despite her frail appearance though, she was still sharp as a tack when she wanted to be and was far from a frail old pensioner. Like her youngest granddaughter, she had amber coloured eyes. Her mane had always been a fairly white colour, and had faded little over the years, although these days she kept it done up in a bun. Her coat was a soft lime green and she wore a small orange and red polka-dot neckerchief around her neck. Her cutie mark, as with the other members of her family, was apple based, being an apple pie.

Officially, she’d been the one to give me the room and board I now enjoyed, and over the years I’d come to respect the older mare a great deal. A lot of ponies wrote her off as being a little kooky, but like I said, there was still plenty of grey matter up there. If you ask me, I think she enjoys playing dumb from time to time. But if you cross her, you’ll find out she is almost as smart as Celestia herself.

“Evenin’, Granny,” I called out as we all came in.

Everypony calls her Granny, regardless of whether they’re family or not. I can’t help but think how strange it must have been for her growing up. But that’s apple based names for you. When I first got here I used to call her Mrs. Smith, but the kindly old mare soon put a stop to that. She’s become just as much my dear old gran as Applejack’s.

“Oh, there you three are,” she said as she turned her attention away from the stove and dropped back down onto all four hooves. “We was just startin’ to wonder where you young’uns were comin’ back. I was ‘bout to send Big Macintosh here out to look for ya.”

She gestured to the final member of the Apple family that lived on Sweet Apple Acres; Applejack’s older brother; Big Mac. The name certainly fitted. I had an inch or two on Applejack, but Big Mac had plenty more than that on me, standing noticeably taller than most of the other stallions in Ponyville. He was famous for his impressive strength and size. At the same time though, he was a gentle giant, and despite his imposing size, wouldn’t hurt a fly. Despite that though, and the fact that he doesn’t talk all that much, when he does speak, ponies tend to listen.

At the moment, he was sitting down at the dinner table, somewhat like a dog would. His red coat had a few oil streaks on it here and there, as did the large yoke that he was wearing around his neck. His straw red mane also had a few spots. His cutie mark however, a large green apple, had escaped the slick.

“Sorry we nearly had you out in the snow, Mac,” I said apologetically. “We all got caught up in a bit of a snowball fight. Ya have any luck fixin’ up the cider press?”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac replied in that deep, somewhat baritone voice of his.

That was one of his two normal responses. The other being ‘Nope’. I’m still trying to convince him to add ‘that would be an ecumenical matter’ to his repertoire. Still, if you can get him talking, he can be quite eloquent and insightful. I can only presume it’s that quality that has caused half in mares in town to occasionally casually ogle him when he runs the market stall.

“Well that’s some good news,” Applejack said as she dusted the remaining snow off of her hat. “That darn thing’s been actin’ up ever since that year we saw off those Flim Flam brothers. I might go take a look at it myself in a minute.”

Granny however, was having none of that.

“Ah phooey, ya young whipper snapper,” she admonished her granddaughter. “Y’all have been in and out of them orchards all day. It’s high time ya stopped to get a good warm meal.”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac agreed, now with much more enthusiasm.

The table was set for five places, with Granny at one end and the rest of us on either side. I took my seat next to Applejack, while Apple Bloom went to join her older brother. Given how cold the weather had been these past couple of days, Granny Smith had kept us on a steady diet of piping hot stews, soups, and other filling winter staples. Tonight it was vegetable soup on the menu, with crusty bread rolls. I must confess, a part of me still misses my old grandmother’s corn beef stew. Despite being little more than potatoes, carrots, British Army bully beef, and Bisto gravy, it was filling and warmed you right up in the cold midwinter. However, my new equine body found the idea of meat quite unpalatable, despite my best efforts.

We all tucked into the dinner, chatting and catching up on what we’d all been up to today. Applejack filled Granny in on the rabbit problem we were having.

“So we figured it’d be a good idea to maybe get Fluttershy to help out,” she was saying. “After all, she really helped out with those vampire fruit bats. I reckon with her help, we can fix things in everypony’s favour, includin’ those rabbits.”

“Well, sure makes sense,” Granny Smith agreed. “Just so long as we don’t end up with another stampede of bunny rabbits.”

Granny was referring to an incident many moons ago, not long after we arrived here. Fluttershy had been doing her annual bunny census, with whole warrens gathered together, when Winona, the Apple family’s beloved border collie, had joined in on the fun. Alarming the rabbits, the dog had set them on an adorable stampede that sent them all through Sweet Apple Acres, at the height of Applebuck Season. The resulting vibrations may have meant that harvesting the trees was a lot easier, since all the fruit was shaken loose, but it also meant a sizeable amount rotted away on the ground before we could get to it.

“I’m sure nothin’ like that’s gonna happen, Granny,” I said reassuringly. “They’ve only nibbled at a dozen or so trees over the last couple weeks, so we’re probably only lookin’ at a small warren. Fluttershy ought to be able to convince them to either head some place else or go nibble on some other vittles besides our trees.” Granny nodded in agreement before turning to her younger granddaughter.

“And how ‘bout you, Apple Bloom? What have y’all been doin’ today?”

School was still out for the little filly, and while she helped out on the farm as much as she could, she was still just a young filly at the moment. However, along with her two friends, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, she has quite the venture of her own going on.

You see, everypony in Equestria has a cutie mark; a symbol on their hindquarters that signifies their special talent. A little before adolescence, ponies discover what this talent is, prompting the mark to appear. However, many foals find themselves in a seemingly fruitless search for some time, and this included Apple Bloom and her friends. So they formed their own little club; the Cutie Mark Crusaders. After the three of them discovered their own cutie marks a year or so ago, they started up a sort of consulting agency to help young and old alike discover and understand their cutie marks. The business had taken off like a rocket. The trio now used their clubhouse as a sort of office, but also visited ponies in town as well. This is what Apple Bloom had been up to.

“Me and the Crusaders have been helpin’ Skedaddle all week tryin’ to earn his cutie mark. Turns out his parents really picked a fittin’ name. We helped him get his cutie mark in runnin’.” Applejack started for a moment as she seemed to remember something.

“This better not have anythin’ to do with all that hubbub I heard about a cragadile nosing around near that camp of yours would it?” Applejack asked with no small amount of suspicion.

“What?! No! Of course not!” Apple Bloom denied. Applejack’s famous ability to spot a fib soon won out though as the filly sweated under her gaze.

“Okay, fine!” she admitted. “But it weren’t a real one. Just Rumble and Featherweight in a costume. It was the only way to get him to show how fast he really was.”

Applejack’s raised eyebrow said all that needed to be said on that one. Those three fillies certainly do have a knack for causing mischief. They could probably give Discord a run for his money on the chaos front. Still, while they can cause trouble, they also usually manage to sort things out in the end. In fact, to my knowledge, the only pony they weren’t able to help was that psychotic Cozy Glow. And as much as I hate to say it, I think she was beyond help by the time their paths crossed.


Dinner then continued, with a good helping of seconds, followed by dessert. It was now dark outside and the moon had risen high into the sky as Princess Celestia stepped down for the night and Princess Luna took the throne up in Canterlot. We all now had some free time to relax and chat together before bed. One downside of farm life is the early nights and early rising the following morning. In the high summer, we were going to bed almost as soon as the sun set.

Not that that was a problem for Granny Smith. Once dinner was done with and we’d finished with the washing up, she announced her intention to go to bed. As a mare getting on in years, she’s typically the first one to bed down for the night, despite her naps in the day. She wasn’t the only one though. Apple Bloom typically goes to bed fairly early too, although this is something enforced by her elders rather than by choice. I’m sure if left to her own devices, the little filly would stay up as long as she could. And as someone who’s done that back in college and seen those creepy shadow people in the corners of my vision, that was not something I was going to let happen, nor was AJ.

“C’mon, Apple Bloom,” she said in a somewhat authoritative tone. “It’s late, and high time little fillies went to bed.”

“But, Applejack!” Apple Bloom whined. “I’m not even tired. Can’t I stay up a little longer?”

Now, one of the odder things that I’ve noticed since moving in here, is the somewhat paternal shine I’ve taken to little Apple Bloom. If I’m honest, I’ve never been good with kids. I’m not exactly what you’d call a fun guy, being a bit of a bookworm like Twilight, and I just don’t connect with them, nor they with me. But with Apple Bloom...I don’t know, something just clicked between us. I found myself caring about her, to the point of flying into a paternal rage and picking Diamond Tiara up off the ground and dangling her upside down in my magic when I caught her bullying AB. And at the same time, she’d come to me for help and advice, just as she would to either of her siblings.

Of course, I knew I could never replace the redoubtable Bright Mac, nor did I wish to step on Big Mac’s nonexistent toes. But at the same time, I did nothing to discourage the filly’s affections. And in time, she became something close to a surrogate daughter to me. Hence why I now got to play the negotiator in the endless war over bedtimes.

“How about I take you upstairs and read you a story before bed, AB?” I offered.

Applejack smiled slightly as I said that. I believe Rarity once labelled the behaviour as ‘husband material’. It certainly seemed to work for Apple Bloom. So the two of us headed upstairs.


I followed Apple Bloom upstairs. There are a total of five bedrooms in the house. Granny Smith’s and Applejack’s on one side, along with the bathroom, and mine, Apple Bloom’s and Big Mac’s on the other, the latter having previously been his parents bedroom (Mac and AJ used to share the same room when they were younger). I followed the usual routines and first half led, half herded the entirely not tired Apple Bloom, who most certainly wasn’t yawning at all, to her bedroom door. Opening it, I used my magic to turn on the lights. Her room was about the same size as mine, although I must confess, much tidier. I headed over to the small bookcases that held around a dozen or so story books, while Apple Bloom climbed into her bed.

“So, what story do you want tonight, AB?” I asked as I looked through the available volumes.

There was a good mix of Equestrian books and a few from back on Earth that had found their way through the same portal that had brought us here. It had reopened briefly before being sealed up properly around the start of the new year after we arrived. All sorts of random stuff had come through; books, clothes, films, pretty much everything except electronics, which seemed to react badly to crossing the event horizon. Apple Bloom though had a special request.

“Can you tell me one of those Bible stories?” she asked.

Now, to be clear. I’m in no way a religious man, and certainly no God fearing cretin. I might have told Twilight about religions on Earth from an academic standpoint, but I in no way endorsed any of them, never mind try and propagate them here. I was eight when I came to the conclusion that the God of Classical Theism either didn’t exist or was a being of pure evil, mainly after asking several unpalatable questions of the local minister. However, while I did not believe in any of it, and while I might have always disapproved of organised religion and viewed it as a negative force, I never took a dislike to the actual message of most religions. Christianity preached a doctrine of peace and love, one of Islam’s core principles was universal charity, and Buddhism sought to understand the great mysteries of the universe just as much as any rational person did.

In particular, I always had a fondness for old bible stories, which my mother had told me as a child. God aside, they preached lessons of virtue and reward, care for one’s fellow man, and that good could come surprisingly unexpected places, and would always triumph over evil.

So, when Apple Bloom had asked me one night to tell her a human bedtime story, I had started telling her those same stories. I never pushed doctrine or faith on her, I merely let the stories stand on their own merit. She could take from them what she would.

“Alright then,” I said, taking a seat and perching myself on the edge of the bed. “Let’s see...”

I thought for a moment about which stories I could tell her. I’d told her a few, from both testaments. I’d told her about Moses and the exodus from Egypt, about David and his battle with Goliath, Jonah and the Whale (even though the book never actually calls it a whale, just a ‘great fish’), and Joseph and his coat of many colours. Well, there was the old standby.

“Once a man was travelling on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho,” I began. “That’s two big towns in that part of the world. Suddenly, he was attacked by robbers. They ripped his clothes, beat him, stole his money, and left him for dead. A little while later, a priest came by, and saw the man lying on the side of the road. He didn’t check to see if he was still alive, because he believed it was wrong to touch a dead body. So he walked by on the other side. A little after that, another man came by. He too saw the man hurt and bleeding, but he too simply passed by on the other side. But finally, a man from Samaria happened by. Now, Samaritans and Jews hated each other, so what do you think the Samaritan did?”

“He left that poor pony too,” Apple Bloom said, listening attentively to the story. I smiled and shook my head.

“Actually, no,” I replied. “He saw this stranger lying in the road, dying, and he took pity on him. He got off his donkey, bandaged the man’s wounds, put oil on them, and then put him on his own animal and took him to the next town. When he got there, he took the injured man to an inn, and told the innkeeper that whatever it took to care for him, he would pay on his return, and he did.

“So you see Apple Bloom,” I went on. “Good can come from all sorts of places, even those we least expect. A good pony doesn’t care about who somepony is. If they see someone in trouble, they just help. They don’t expect anything in return; they help because it’s the right thing to do. And I’m proud to say that I’ve seen you do that on more than one occasion with your friends.”

Apple Bloom smiled at that, and I smiled back.

With that, I tucked her in, checked under the bed for monsters, wished her a good night, and turned off the light, closing the door behind me. Tiptoeing, as much as you can with hooves, past Granny Smith’s door, from which I could already hear snoring, I made my way back downstairs.


I found Applejack and Big Mac sitting together. Mac had gone back into the kitchen and heated up a saucepan of milk and made us all a cup of hot chocolate. It was the perfect drink for a chilly winter night, apart from Bovril perhaps, but that doesn’t seem to have made its way to Equestria yet, and I’ve no idea how to make the stuff. I gladly picked up my own steaming mug in my magic and took a sip. The chocolatey drink warmed me up a bit, and the warm milk would help me get to sleep. The milk came from the cows that lived on the farm. Cows, along with sheep, sit in an odd middle ground in Equestria. They are sapient and capable of speech, but at the same time are still considered as something close to livestock, albeit ones that choose their own living conditions.

Let me explain; the cows live on Sweet Apple Acres, but they choose where to go to graze, when they want to be milked, and aren’t slaughtered for meat. They talk, and I’m friendly with most of them. But at the same time, they aren’t like ponies. Now, I’ll admit, on paper, that sounds like slavery. The thing is though...well, it’s a bit hard to explain. We have this line in the sand as human between human and animal. It’s the same for ponies. Cows and sheep are capable of speech, but they can’t look after themselves. Without ponies looking after them, particularly in the winter when they lived in the barns most of the time, they wouldn’t last long. I’ll admit, it is something of a moral grey area for me. But at the same time, none of them ever complain about their lives and are given everything they ask for.

Now, I could probably fill a book on the moral, ethical and philosophical quandaries all that entails, but that’s not why we’re here, so I’ll get right to my point. The milk Mac had used was milk the cows gave just before they bedded down for the night. It had various natural chemicals and hormones in it designed to help a woken up calf fall back asleep. So it made a great thing to have just before you went to bed. I certainly began to feel the effects as I took a few more sips.

“How’s Apple Bloom, Bones?” Applejack asked as I sat down in one of the chairs.

“Fine,” I replied. “Told her a story, checked under her bed for monsters, and she was out like a light. Granny too by the sounds of things.” Big Mac now stirred, having finished his own drink.

“I guess I may as well start lockin’ everythin’ up then,” he said in that low rumble of his.

The farm was pretty quiet once again now. The cows, pigs, sheep, and chickens had all been locked up for the night. The doors on the farmhouse would now be locked too. Not that you ever really needed to lock your doors in Ponyville. If anything it was more to stop snooping wild animals, such as the timber wolves that occasionally ventured out from the Everfree, than it was to stop ponies. Applejack got up too as Mac departed.

“I’m gonna hit that hay too,” she said. “You comn’, Bones?” I nodded in silent agreement. The two of us headed back the way I’d come.

Now, AJ and I have been in a relationship for quite some time, to the point that Granny Smith is wondering when I might pop the question to Applejack. However, the two of us typically sleep in our own rooms rather than together. This is partly old fashion values, as well as Big Mac having a bit of a time accepting that his little sister is growing up. But from time to time we do. While I may be asexual, that doesn’t mean I don’t need intimacy as much as the next pony. The same can be said of Applejack. She might not always be the most romantic pony out there, but she enjoys spending time with me, and that includes cuddling up to me at night. We typically don’t do too much besides that at the moment, unless we have the house to ourselves. I may be asexual, but Applejack isn’t, and I don’t mind being a good coltfriend to her from time to time. If nothing else though, an intimate moment with the pony version of Jessica Jones does tend to take it out of you, so we tend to be a little less active than most couples.

Still, tonight seemed to be a night AJ wanted to spend with me, as she stuck by my side as we came to the upstairs hallway. I turned back to her with a silent question.

“I’ll go back to my own room tomorrow morning before everypony else wakes up. What Big Macintosh doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

To be honest, I’ve been weighing up the idea of having a man to man talk with Big Mac. I’m a big brother myself, so I know that instinct. But we’d been dating for a couple years now. I’d shown I was a safe pair of hooves. We should be able to spend a night together without subterfuge or having to deal with a knowing look from either him or Granny. Still, that was a problem for future me. For now, I just opened my own door and led AJ inside.

I live pretty simply, just as the Apples do. My room consisted of my large bed, and desk, which was presently covered in papers relating to my latest little project, along with a couple bookshelves filled with a mixture of texts on magic, farming, as well as some good stories and history books. Mounted on one wall was a sabre from the days of the ancient Lunar Guard; a gift from Princess Luna. Finally, next to my bed was a small bedside table, which had my alarm clock and whatever book I was currently working my way through.

Crossing the room to the small paned window that overlooked the farmyard, I drew the dark green curtains shut. This room was originally a spare room. Which explained the comparatively bare wooden walls, with the exception of a few photographs, mainly me and AJ. I was toying with the idea of doing some DIY later in the year, and possibly laying down some carpeting. Applejack had set me up in here when I first moved in, and it had quickly become a mixture of bedroom and study.

Throwing back the covers, the two of us climbed into bed. It was going to be a cold night, but the thick covers and each of us would do a good job at keeping the other warm. I had barely settled in when Applejack snuggled herself up against me. She can be quite the romantic herself behind closed doors, just as much as I can.

The two of us talked a little while about our day as we drifted off to sleep. All in all, it had been pretty good.

And there were still plenty more to come.

Author's Note:

Proofread by Sweetolebob18.

Hello and welcome to my newest story. This will be the last one in a series I never expected to start writing, never mind turn into seven stories. I'm trying to be a little more original this time around, doing my best to skirt around episodes, since, for me, that's what made the earlier stories so fun to write and read.

With that in mind, then, let's jump forward to February, a month that took my five year old self almost a year to learn how to spell. Let me know what you think so far in the comments below, and I'll see you next week.