Warm Apple Pie

by Freglz

Homecoming

Ponyville. Strange to think of this place as a potential home. I’ve barely had any interaction with it, basically a backwater town that’s only notable for its apple orchards and more recently being the residence of one Princess Twilight Sparkle. How was I supposed to know at some point I might find myself settling down here one day?

“No, nope, that won’t do,” Applejack says to the seller. “We’ve got foals comin’, remember? Around a dozen, last I counted. Any fake greenery they’ll just think is food, so that’s a choking hazard waitin’ to happen.”

The stallion, whose name I didn’t catch – too gravelly an accent – arcs his bushy brows and nods fervently, then turns to the wooden crates stored behind him and shovels through the contents.

It had only been the second garland he’d shown her but she’d already started tapping her rear hoof against the ground, and upon noticing that I’m watching her, she stops and offers a comforting smile. “Sorry it’s taking so long, sugar. You can head on over to the homestead if you want, get yourself nice and cosy instead of standin’ out here in the snow.”

Instantly I shake my head and place a comforting wing on her back. “I didn’t fly all this way for the house, sister.”

She rolls her eyes with a quick sigh, but I can tell she enjoys the contact through her shiver. “Still, I’d rather you spend what time you have being comfortable, than taggin’ along for chores I can do on my own. Not like you know the ins and outs of Apple Family get-togethers anyhow.”

“Yet.”

“Sure, yet, but the point still stands, don’t it?”

“It does.” I gently bob as if weighing the option, but shake my head again with another smile. “And I’m still choosing to stay.”

Returning to us, the seller lays on the stall counter another garland – the real sort, authentic and fresh, or at least preserved through some kind of magic. Berries, holly and bows of red, gold and silver break up the greenery and almost seem to shimmer in the winter air.

Applejack takes it in her hooves, gives it a smell, tickles her nose with the soft bristles, which elicit a seemingly nostalgic grin. It’s the look she makes when stories of her family come up, especially her parents. “Perfect. Perfect, thanks. I’ll take thirty-six, please, but keep them on hold; I’ll swing by tomorrow morning for them with a couple of extra hooves.”

“Shr o’ thar ma’um,” the stallion replies with a nod. “Pein nao ’r leidr?”

“Would tomorrow be fine?”

“Fr iu, lesi, alweis.”

Still as impenetrable an accent to me as the first syllable.

Satisfied, Applejack sweeps away toward the farming side of Ponyville and beckons me to follow with a wave of her hoof. “C’mon, Spitty, that should be everything.”

I blink away my disbelief and obey. If any other Wonderbolt were around to see me take orders from somepony else, even if it’s a simple request, they’d never let me hear the end of it. “So much for keeping warm at the house,” I tease, bumping my hip into hers. “I’d have barely had a minute’s head start.”

“It’s the thought that counts, at least, alright? What’s wrong with wanting to make sure your holiday visit is worthwhile?”

“Nothing, I suppose.” My wings twitch as a breeze kicks up loose snow from the pavement, and now that we’re moving again I can’t help noticing how empty her saddlebags are. “But, wait, are we seriously not gonna bring anything with us? That was, what, half an hour worth of shopping across three different stores, and after all of that we’re still empty-hoofed?”

“Because I like to compartmentalise things. First you take stock of what’s available, then ya drag out the cart. Better than luggin’ it around the whole town just in case. And because I know these ponies, and they know me, there’s no doubtin’ whether I’ll stick to my word; if I say they’ll get paid, they get paid.”

And I wouldn’t doubt that she’s telling the truth: though she never lauds it over anypony’s heads, humble as always, she still has clout from saving the world, and being friends with a princess of Equestria. That’s gotta win goodwill in just about everypony’s books.

“Besides, I’m not saddling you with hard work on yer first day in Ponyville.”

“So I’m one of those extra hooves you mentioned?”

“Maybe.” She flashes a smirk. “If you want.”

Part of me wants to, if only to show that I’m stronger than she might think I am, but I also know that my trip all the way from Cloudsdale won’t be without consequences. “I’ll think about it. Might be too sore in the morning, though – that’s what happens when you don’t stretch before flying.”

“You could always take the train, y’know.”

“Too slow. And flying is free.”

She laughs and peers at me from the corner of her eye, that smirk from before now a permanent fixture. “I keep tellin’ ya, sometimes you sound just like Dash.”

“I. Do. Not!” I stamp my hooves and flare my wings. The outrage is fake but it gets the point across. “What, just because I don’t wanna pay for something that really should be free? And because, just maybe, I enjoy flying?”

“Exactly.”

A snappy comeback to shut me down, and without any actual adrenaline I deflate, defeated, then roll my eyes and continue following. “Whatever you say, I still maintain that she’s not ready for higher training. Soarin’ may have faults but at least he’s…”

“Familiar?”

That’s one word for it. “Sure.”

“You say that like Rainbow isn’t.”

“That’s not what I meant.” At first I think of how to better explain it, until a realisation dawns on me – one that every commanding officer should always keep in mind, no matter the context or present company. “I shouldn’t even be talking about this with you.”

“Right, right, official Wonderbolt business.”

“Not just that.” I sigh and shake my head, and lower my gaze to the path ahead; from paved and cobbled roads to packed earth and painted fences. “You’re her friend. A good friend. Such a good friend, in fact, that you two are the Element Bearers of Loyalty and Honesty. What does that say about me, then, if I’m talking about her to you behind her back?”

Her ears and withers stiffen as her stride falters a step. “Fair point.”

“I…” Guilt tightens my chest. “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to make this awkward.”

“Ain’t nothing to be sorry for, sugarcube.” Applejack peers over her shoulder and offers another smile, but smaller and empathetic – the kind she uses to help mend things. “No problem at all. We’re just… still new to this. Still navigating it. There’s bound to be a few hiccups every now and then.”

A stray thought suddenly pops into my mind, and I know her well enough that I wouldn’t be able to keep it hidden – even harder when it weighs on me, slows me to a crawl, then a halt. “You’re sure it’s okay for me to be here? Now? I mean, like… it’s not too soon, or gonna drive a wedge between anypony?”

The empathy in her eyes never wavers, even as she bolsters it with steadfast resolve, rounding on the path to stand directly in front of me. So bizarre, I’ve found, that somepony from such a seemingly simple background could rival any princess in how humbled they leave you – stalwart as a mountain, wise as the Sisters themselves. “For the last time,” she warmly affirms, “you’re welcome here. Ain’t nopony’s gonna have a problem with that, and if they do, they’re gonna have to go through me first. Not that I’m sure you can’t take care of yourself already.”

It’s true. And she’s right. Why wouldn’t she be? She always is. “Okay.”

A tender sigh escapes through her nose, and she plants a dainty kiss upon the tip of my snout that heats my cheeks with a burning passion. “You worry too much.”

It’s only her that does this. Only her who gets me hot enough that I could sweat within my winter coat. Only her who makes me feel as light as a feather, so light that I could float in the wind. But all I do, all I ever do, is sink into rising plumage and barely keep my lips from stretching ear to ear. “Comes with the job. You understand.”

“All too well.” She shuffles into place beside me and nuzzles under my chin, and I catch the faint yet unmistakable whiff of straw and cinnamon – her natural aroma, and naturally calming. “But let’s try and put that all behind us, hmm? It’s the holidays. We deserve a little time off.”

Author's Note:

This is rushed, I'm not proud and it will receive a proper ending as planned when I have time after the holidays.

Comments

[Short-tale]

Oooo I can’t wait to see where it leads! Thanks for writing and indulging in my crack ship interests.

[Alex_]

Don't think I've ever seen this ship before.