Sea Dreams

by Odd_Sarge

5 - On The Farm

“Now, sugarcube, can I trust you with this?”

Applejack hefted the hammer up. She wasn’t gripping it, but as it lay in her hoof, she could tell the mare in front of her was more than ready to lay her open mouth on the hammer. Bits of saliva drooled down from Screw Loose’s gaping maw; it wasn’t much, but it was enough to unnerve Applejack a tad.

All the farmer mare could do was remember Screwy’s story.

Sighing, she pushed her hoof forward. When Screwy’s tight mouth-grip wrapped around the hammer’s handle, the circular sashay of the mare’s tail doubled in vigor.

“Alright,” Applejack said tentatively. “Just like I showed you a second ago, y’hear?” Once more, she leaned down, hefted her own hammer, and reached for one of the boards in the pile of wooden planks. Plonking it before her, she flipped it until it was nail-side up. A quick clean motion had the nail plucked from the board. She stepped back, and set the hammer back down. “Just like that. No fuss at all.” Applejack gestured with an open hoof. “Go on, give it a try.”

Screwy, still wagging, continued as if unbidden. Just as Applejack was beginning to question her own patience, the dog-hearted mare stepped forward and pawed out a board.

For some reason, Applejack felt her heart racing. “Nice and easy...”

Screwy nosed the board to face her.

“Nice...”

She reached down, unclenched her jaw, and wrapped her teeth around the hammer.

Applejack took a breath.

With a stretch of her surprisingly muscular neck, Screwy wedged the nail in the claw of her hammer. She set her hoof down on the board for support.

“And easy...”

The whole of Screwy’s body locked itself in place, and with a firm tug, her head popped upwards. She flexed in a strange disjointed way of stretching, before eagerly presenting the hammer to Applejack. Low and behold, the hammer came with company: the nail had been pried clean.

“Well I’ll be.” Applejack pushed at the edge of her stetson. “You really had me going there.”

The moment Screwy opened her mouth to start panting, the hammer fell, nail and all. It landed with a soft thud in the dirt between them. It at least wasn’t too coated in saliva, but the dirt that clung to it wasn’t exactly the grip Applejack was hoping to have turned back to her.

Picking the damp tool with a hoof instead, Applejack nodded. “I’ll go through a few more with you, sugarcube. We’ll have a good set of withers on you, yet.”

Screwy gave a joyful yip, and Applejack replied with an awkwardly slanted smile.

---

Big Mac wasn’t a stallion of many words.

Neither was Reckless.

There were many different kinds of apples grown on Sweet Apple Acres. This particular section of the orchard had a later harvest cycle than most of the farm. Despite being a small part of their annual growth, there was still plenty of work to be done.

But they’d done so much already, to the point that Big Mac couldn’t help but find himself enjoying a break. He certainly wasn’t planning on straining himself again... Although, if he did, he had it well ingrained by now that this new mare would certainly be the big pony the Ponyville Apples could rely on to get the job done.

So here he sat, plied with his back to an apple tree, straw in mouth, and eyes cast over the rolling hills of Sweet Apple Acres.

The view beside him wasn’t too bad, either.

For the longest time, Big Mac had fancied himself a pony predisposed to the littler ones. He’d always been ahead of the curve in his growth, and a good part of his actions came down to ensuring the ones smaller than him were safe and well. He was no stranger to bearing the weight of the world on his withers, if only for a moment.

It was plain for Big Mac to see, then, that Reckless carried similar burdens.

There were pains buried beneath the surface for both of them, and for the first time in a long time, Big Mac felt the urge to reach out to somepony beyond those closest in his care.

This mare may well have been family.

And while she was remarkably quiet, she could just as easily be wordy when her interest was piqued. She was even closer to his heart than he first realized: not just in actions, but in words. That left him wanting to know more about the mare he’d certainly be working with for the foreseeable future.

It was awkward, then, that the stallion of few words had to be the one to say something.

“So,” he started, his drawl thick with disuse. “Ponyville?”

Reckless’ reply was immediate, almost as if she’d been waiting for him. “Here some time.” She stretched, arching her neck toward the noon-day sun. “You live Ponyville long, yes?”

“Eeyup.”

She was silent again. His eyes traced her. Waiting.

The hard-working workhorse was tempting him into speaking something fierce.

“You know princess?”

Big Mac blinked.

“Sun princess, not moon sib,” Reckless elaborated, this time shaking out her front fetlocks. “She nice mare. Moon mare, too.”

“Eeyup.”

“She help me find friend. Family. Send me Ponyville, give me work.”

“The princess gave us Apples the land. You could say she gave me work, too.”

Reckless paused at the remark, then turned to face Big Mac. The white blaze striping down between her eyes was a bit sooty with dirt, but it didn’t dissuade her smile. “You like work, yes?”

Big Mac’s lips twitched into a tiny smile, and he nodded firmly toward the leaves of the tree overhead. “Eeyup.”

“Can tell. Work so hard.” For a moment, Big Mac felt the horse’s eyes rolling over him. Reckless rolled her withers, then looked away. “You know best part?”

“...Nope.”

“Can tell you not want me. Is good to work with stallion who not want foal.”

Big Mac’s eyes widened, half-expecting a laugh to leave the mare. But no such grace erupted. With each second, the silence somehow grew worse. His lack of a proper reply sent his mind reeling toward the edge.

“Ee-eyup.” He winced, and turned away; he’d failed to hide the stutter.

“Maybe when work slow, we do different fun.”

Big Mac began to sweat like the air wasn’t the cool autumn it was.

---

The boards creaked beneath Sea Swirl.

“Seems like somepony’s a bit nervous.”

The rocking chair mare creaked just as much.

“I guess,” Sea Swirl replied noncommittally.

“You guess?” the older mare hooted. “Well now, I haven’t seen a filly more nervous in all my time in Ponyville! You’re as nervous as a groundhog around their shadow!”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Only for so long as you keep teetering on my porch, filly.”

Sea Swirl stopped doing just that. Her hooves thud against the wood. “Thank you.”

“Aw hay, no need to thank me. Just remember that you’ve got four good hooves, and they were made for trotting! Keep yourself grounded, that’s what I say.”

Earth pony wisdom was something Sea Swirl found herself more and more attuned with. “Grounded. Got it. But really, thank you, Granny Smith.”

“Now what did I just say, filly?”

“...Sorry.”

“I’m just pulling your tail.” Granny Smith sighed pleasantly, and continued bobbing in her chair. “If’n somepony oughta be sorry, it ought to be me.”

“Why?”

“When you said you wanted to help, I should’ve known that you wanted help, too.”

Sea Swirl glanced back at Granny.

Spread out before them, the sprawling landscape of Sweet Apple Acres was a cozy sight to behold. Nearby, the sound of the coop and barn elicited sharp plucks along Sea Swirl’s ears, though she’d since become accustomed to them after all her time on the porch.

She’d initially stopped by to see how her friends were faring, but she’d had yet to see anypony else beside Granny Smith: Applejack and Screwy were definitely close by, but out of the way; Big Mac and Reckless were no doubt at work in the orchard; and the scarce Applebloom was off to the Ponyville Schoolhouse.

That left Sea Swirl to house chores with Granny Smith. Her use of telekinesis was a surprisingly welcome allowance, given that Granny had insisted on doing a great many things by hoof—Sea Swirl wasn’t entirely sure jars could be ‘jarred’ by ‘magical jarring’—but it had been an easy way for Sea Swirl to find comfort in doing something useful.

“What do you think I need help with?”

“Shucks, don’t go putting it like that, filly.” Granny Smith slowed in her rocking. There was an audible smack as she wet her lips. “You want a family, don’t you?”

“I... I’m sorry, but I don’t see—”

“It’s a yes or no.”

“...Yes.”

Granny Smith sighed. “I hope you’ll take this kindly, then, when I say that you’ve got yourself a happy troupe.”

Sea Swirl trot over, and seated herself rump-first beside Granny Smith. “But we have monsters in us.”

“What? Monsters? No, no. No monsters, filly, just nightmares. Everypony has nightmares.”

“Then how are we supposed to face them?”

Granny Smith slowed to a stop, Sea Swirl took every movement in.

“It starts with finding yourself a family.”

“And then?”

Granny leaned in conspiratorially, her chair and body creaking again. “Being a mite bit selfish.”

Sea Swirl tilted her head at the mare, her face contorting with confusion. “Selfish? Selfish how? And how’s that supposed to help?”

“Well, you’re already working on doing right by them, aren’t you, filly?” When Sea Swirl found no way to reply, Granny Smith hummed, and hewed on. “Now, I think you should show your friends your talents... and enjoy it, to boot. And I won’t lie, it won’t be easy. But it’ll be well worth it.”

For the tender quiet that passed over them, Sea Swirl raised a hoof, and laid it on one of Granny’s resting forelegs. “Thank you for your advice, Granny Smith... I think I know where to go next.”

“O’course! You’re welcome back anytime, filly.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer more often than you think.”

Comments

[NorrisThePony]

Really made my day to see this one update! It's nice and sweet to see all three of them making a bit of progress. It's a little, but a little bit is always something to be proud of when it's your own personal nightmares you're facing.

[redmar]

Sea Swirl got some good advice from Granny Smith.