The Sweet Taste of Apple

by Icecane

An Old Friend

Trader opened his eyes to see himself steadily drifting toward the back of the seat in front of him. Fixing his posture on his own seat, he looked around at where he was, gazing out the window to see the train was no longer moving. Having dozed off due to the smooth ride of the train, then stirred as the hulking machine came to a sudden stop, he had slept through the trip from Manehattan to Ponyville.

All of the other passengers were already rising from their seats and exiting their car one by one. Shaking away the drowsiness he felt, the young pegasus did the same, trotting through the aisle and departing from the train.

Eyes wide with amazement and brimming with excitement, the stallion left the station and trotted deeper into the small town. Immediately, the different sights and sounds made themselves clear. No longer was he looking at stone walls and streets, but soft, grassy ground and wooded, straw-roofed houses. Trader had to pause to breath in the crisp, clean air, drinking it in with a look of satisfaction written greedily on his face. A pleasant sigh left him as he finished, already feeling his spirits lifting with the much needed change in scenery.

Trader's sights were soon set skyward, eyeing the sky that still held a brilliant shade of blue. But he knew it wouldn't be like that for much longer, seeing the sun nearing the far off horizon, preparing to be replaced by Luna's moon. Thankfully though, there was no set time that he was supposed to locate his possible employers, leaving the time of his arrival his choice. Judging he had enough time before it became too late to explore, he trotted off to go sightseeing and judge how much Ponyville had changed since he last saw it.

To his surprise, there wasn't much in the way of differences. Sure, there was a new house here and there, occupied by a happy family who had made the quaint town their home, a new business or two that had cropped up over the years, and many unknown faces that he came in contact with throughout the town, much of Ponyville looked much like it did when he was a young foal. Of course, everything wasn't quite as tall as it used to be, a fact that he couldn't help but chuckle over.

Eventually, Trader made his way to the market street, where ponies sold their wares to any creature with a need to buy or a wandering eye. Stalls lined both ends of the street, some as simple as an old table with a fine cloth draped over it, while other ponies occupied massive tents of colorful fabrics and fanciful designs, as though they were previously apart of a circus.

Waves of nostalgia washed over him in droves as he passed the stalls, old memories of his youth fluttering into his mind. Many of the ponies who were either buying or selling held expressions of warm greetings as they saw the pegasus walk by them. Barely any of it was noticed by him however, his mind set elsewhere as he thought about a very specific spot that was fast approaching.

Soon enough, he stopped dead in his tracks as he looked at a stall that was near the far end of the market. At the very spot where the stall stood, he could recall a different one was held some time ago. He remembered it well, being the one that his mother ran, selling her own goods to the citizens of Ponyville. Now, the stall was long gone, with a new one in its place.

“Can I help you, sir?”

Trader blinked. “Huh?” he murmured, being jolted back to reality. He looked back to the stall, seeing a mare with a magenta and pink colored mane. A small variety of flowers were presented on the table, each one looking more colorful than the last.

“Would you like something?” the mare asked, holding a warm smile towards the potential customer.

Looking over the floral assortment once again, Trader managed a shrug as he reached into his saddlebag and tossed a single coin onto the table. The mare took the coin with gratitude, and selected a bright red rose for him. Accepting it, the stallion brought the flower to his mouth and chomped down onto it, tasting the petals of the simple treat.

As he left the stall and continued down the street, he noticed that many of the sellers were closing up for the day. Their wares were being packed up and their tables being stripped. The sight brought his gaze upward, looking into the sky as it shifted to a shade of orange.

“I should probably go now,” he murmured to himself, leaving the market street and trotting through the town.

Trader's head turned back and forth at the scenery around him, looking for a sign or a any other indicator as to where he was supposed to go. Remembering the directions that Mrs. Orange had given him before he left, he was supposed to find a dirt road that led out of town. It took several minutes of aimless walking, regaining his sense of direction as he tried to find the path he wanted, for him to finally come across a dirt road that ran off out of town.

“What else can be out there?” the white-coated pegasus asked himself, remembering the road well and only being aware of it leading to one thing.

Ignoring his own questioning mind, Trader took off down the road, keeping his eyes open. Eventually, as the houses of Ponyville became distant blurs, he could see large fields of trees. Each one looked as tall and strong as the one next to it, with bright red apples sticking out against the green leaves. The field of trees seemed to stretch on forever, making an endless sea of green and red. A white painted fence bordered the field from the road.

Then suddenly, he stopped abruptly, his eyes wide as the white fence eventually ended to form a tall archway covered in vines and flowers. Hanging on the archway, a sign swung in the soft breeze, a juicy apple painted on it as a welcome. Beyond that, he could see a farm, as humble as one could be and as familiar as the rest of the town.

Trader looked around wildly, double checking to make sure there was nothing else around him. “No way...” he murmured in disbelief. “There has to be something else.” But it soon made sense to him as Mrs. Orange's description of manual labor and her apparent secrecy ran through his mind.

The pegasus knew full well where he was, Sweet Apple Acres. A long standing farm known for its delicious apples that was forever run by the Apple family. It was a place he visited often as a foal, though he wasn't fully sure if he had ever mentioned that to Mrs. Orange before.

Taking a deep breath, Trader stepped through the archway and headed for the home that was straight ahead. The towering house looked much like a barn on the outside. Of course, obvious differences were seen as he saw the curtained windows, and a small, inviting door that beckoned in any and all visitors with open hooves.

A chuckle escaped him as he looked out to the orchard that started nearby, seeing all of the thick trees and their apples that were just waiting to be picked. His thoughts turned to a certain stallion, coat as red as an apple with a steeled sense of a hard worker. “Must be hard for the big guy,” he thought aloud. “Doing so much all by himself, no wonder they've been looking for help.”

Approaching the front door, the young pegasus hesitated to take in another deep breath. Then, settling his nerves, he put on a large smile as he knocked his hoof against the door.

Shortly after, he could hear the sound of hooves striking a wood floor, coming from just behind the door. Added to it, there was a voice speaking as well. The feminine voice of a mare, holding a noticeable country accent to it.

“That must be him,” the voice said, sounding more than a little displeased. “Don't know what Aunt Orange was thinkin', sendin' somepony out of nowhere like this.” Despite the tone and attitude the mare was showing toward him, Trader didn't notice either of them. His own mind was struck by his own wandering thoughts, swearing that the voice was familiar, but he was unable to add a face to it.

Then, the door opened, revealing the source of the voice. A young mare, close to his own age, with an orange coat, blonde mane and several white freckles on her cheeks. A light brown stetson hat sat atop her head, while her tail and mane were tied in a ponytail.

As he first saw her, Trader was frozen in place, turned to stone as he gaped in shock at her. He had immediately recognized the mare, but in spite of where he was, it was the last face he had expected to see. “A-Applejack?” he breathed.

Applejack herself held a very different expression. Her greens eyes squinted as she looked the stallion over, leaning toward him in a look of deep thought. As the pegasus stood there, rooted in place by the surprise of it all, the mare didn't see the stallion at her door. Instead, all she could see was a young colt, wearing a pristine, snow-white coat that was comically marred by a messy mane of dusty-black hairs.

“Trader... is that you?” she asked, her voice but a simple murmur.

Several moments passed as they held their unofficial staring contest continued. It was quickly broken as Trader's lips parted into a wide grin, an excited laugh forming in his throat. “Yeah, it is me. Wow, Applejack, I can't believe it's you!”

“Me neither!” Applejack replied, her own confused stare ending as she smiled warmly toward him. “ “Boy howdy! How long has it been? Must've been years, Ah'm sure.”

“Far too many,” the pegasus replied. His gaze ran up and down his old friend, having last seen her when she was much smaller. “And look at you, all grown up.” Looking up at her head, a smirk formed at the corner of his mouth. “Nice hat by the way.”

Applejack looked up as well, eyeing her own hat as she chuckled. Suddenly, her eyes widened as she realized they were talking through her doorway. “Where are my manners?” she muttered embarrassingly, stepping out of the doorway and beckoning Trader inward. “Come on in and welcome.”

Obliging her, the pegasus trotted into the house. Taking his first steps through the home, he was immediately hit with more old memories. Little of the humble abode had changed, still looking as rustic as it always had, with many apple themed decorations hanging on the walls and atop furniture.

Applejack gently shut the door behind them, unable to look at the stallion without an expanding smile. “So it was you who our Aunt Orange was talkin' about,” she said in surprise. “Ah wish she was a bit more specific about you, not just saying you were a pegasus lookin' to help.”

A soft chuckle escaped the stallion as he found himself in the same boat. “I know,” he replied, “she was just as vague with me. And she's your Aunt, huh?” It shocked him how he had never made the comparison before.

Heavy hoofsteps approaching them from the side caused their conversation to stop and their heads to turn in the same direction. The creator of said noise soon stood before them. A stallion, nearly twice as large as Trader, with a red coat and light-orange mane. Looking at them both, he held a constant expression of aloofness as his eyelids stayed drooped down halfway.

Trader smiled lightly as he felt the stallion's gaze linger on him. He recognized him straightaway, being the one who he had first expected to answer the door. “Hey, Big Mac,” he greeted with a tone of familiarity. “You remember me?”

A long silence surrounded them both, for some time as Big Macintosh's eyes looked him over. After a few, awkwardly quiet moments, the large stallion matched the smile given to him. “Eeyup,” he replied with a kind nod. The pegasus couldn't help but beam happily, remembering the stallion as a pony of few words.

“Is that Aunt Orange's friend?” an excited voice called down from the nearby stairway. Without waiting for an answer, the source of the voice came scuttling down the steps with a youthful glee.

A young filly with a bright red mane and even brighter yellow coat stopped at the foot of the stairs. Her large eyes were even wider as she stared quietly at the strange pegasus who was in her home. Trader tilted his own head slightly as he had no idea who she was.

“And who are you supposed to be?” he asked, lowering his head to bring himself closer to her level. Though he wasn't quite sure on her age, he already had an idea as to who she might be, causing a smirk to appear as he looked back at Big Macintosh. “Huh, didn't know you had it in you, Big Mac,” he murmured as he turned back to the filly. “You must be his-”

“I'm their sister, Apple Bloom,” she said, with a note of pride in her voice.

Trader choked on his last words, suddenly cutting off his own sentence. “Of course you are,” he squeaked, forcing a smile and mentally slapping himself for his stupidity.

A smothered laugh could be heard beside him, coming from both of the older Apple siblings. It didn't take him but a second to know they had apparently guessed where his train of thought was leading him. Ignoring them, he turned back to the youngest.

“It's wonderful to meet you, Apple Bloom,” the pegasus said. “I'm Trader. Believe it or not, I'm an old friend of your sister's.”

Apple Bloom's face lit up like a bulb. “You know Applejack?” she asked.

“That's right,” Trader nodded. “Way back when we were little foals, we both shared a classroom together.”

“Wow,” the filly gasped suddenly, “that's just like me and my friends!”

Trader chuckled lightly at her excitement. “Play your cards right, I might just tell you an embarrassing story or two about her,” he promised with a wink. Though it seemed impossible, Apple Bloom's smile stretched even further.

The attention on the young filly was soon diverted however, as Applejack cleared her throat forcibly, causing all eyes to land on her. Without a word, she gestured off to another room of the house. Following her, Trader entered the living room, where Big Macintosh and Apple Bloom both trailed behind them.

Rocking back and forth in a chair at the far end of the room, an old, green-coated mare slept. A small trail of drool dripped from her lip as a thick snoring could be heard emanating from within her throat. Applejack sat beside her, nudging her hoof lightly.

“Granny Smith,” she said, trying to wake the mare, “Granny Smith, the pony from Manehattan's here.”

“Huh? Wuzzaht?” Granny Smith murmured, coming to and looking about the room in a dazed confusion. “The pony from Manehattan ya say?” Her eyes soon fell onto Trader, who smiled expectantly. “Oh, well it's nice to meetcha, Mr...”

The pegasus' smile deflated slightly as he realized she didn't recognize him. “Don't you remember me?” he asked. “It's me, Trader.”

Granny Smith blinked several times as she continued to eye the stallion. “A trader? Oh well, just what are ya sellin' today?”

“No no, Granny Smith,” Applejack tried to say. “His name is Trader. You remember him, don't you? He came by a lot back when we were little.”

As it appeared she still wasn't fully aware of what she was being told, an idea came to the stallion as he lied down on his stomach. Scrunching his body up as well as he could, he lowered his head even further, trying to give the vague appearance of being much smaller.

After a moment of staring at the stallion, Granny Smith took a pair of glasses that hung around her neck on a small chain and placed them over her face. Looking back at him, and his new position on the floor, a smile came to her as she got off of the chair. “Oh, well howdy there, Trader. How long have you been here?”

“Just got here, actually,” the pegasus replied with a sigh of relief.

“Well that's good, that's good,” Granny Smith muttered. “So, you're supposed to be the one from Manehattan? The 'hard workin' stallion' we were told about?”

Trader nodded, if not somewhat modestly. “I believe so, though I'm still not quite sure on the specifics of anything. Mrs. Orange told me all of you were having trouble with work.”

“Ah guess it's kind of like that,” Applejack replied. Sitting down in front of him as she explained. “We once talked about how work keeps gettin' bigger on the farm to them last time we saw each other. It just seems that every year the fields get a little bigger, we get one or two more animals to take care of, or some other part of the farm needs to be fixed or repaired.” She nodded toward her sister and grandmother. “Granny Smith's too old to do any of the manual work, and Apple Bloom's far too young for most of what we do.”

“Hey!” the young filly protested. “I'm big enough to do lots of stuff!”

“Anyway,” Applejack continued, smiling at her sister but otherwise ignoring her, “most of the time we get run ragged keeping up with it all. Ah guess Aunt Orange figured we'd need an extra hoof around.”

“Well, why not?” Trader asked. “I'd be more than willing to work for a pittance, it's why I came here. To get away from the crowded streets to something more simpler. I'm sure you'd rather have somepony you know, rather than a complete stranger. The same goes for me, I'd much rather help out old friends when they need it.”

Applejack looked at him with a skeptical smirk. “And you think you can do the demanding work a farm has?”

“Of course,” Trader said with determination. “Perhaps it'll be a little more down and dirty than a lot of my previous lines of work, but I've always liked more hooves on challenges anyway.”

A long pause soon formed around the five ponies. Applejack met the eyes of her family as smile formed and copied one another, all having a silent discussion. Trader didn't even notice as they all nodded in unison, having come to a decision.

“Alright,” Applejack said, “Ah guess we can give you a chance. There's no sense in turning down a hard worker.”

“Eeyup,” Big Macintosh added, smiling in agreement. Apple Bloom beamed happily as well, seeing great prospects in befriending an old friend of her older sister, especially with the promise of embarrassing stories.

“Great!” Trader said with joy. “Thank you all! I won't let any of you down.” Standing up, he looked out the nearby window, frowning as he saw the orange in the sky darkening. “Hm, well, it's getting late. I hate to leave already, but I need to get back to town now if I'm going to find a room to rent for the night.”

“Nonsense,” Applejack quickly replied, standing up herself and blocking the way out. “You're an old friend, and old friends don't just sleep in old motels or anythin'. You can stay in the guest room as long as you'd like.” Gesturing for him to follow, Applejack led the pegasus further into the house. Through the kitchen, a door opened that continued down into the basement.

The walls were thick stone, like that of a dungeon or prison. Several wooden beams were placed about the room, holding up the house firmly. The floor itself was covered in soft rugs, covering the cold stone underneath. But most noticeable about the room was the furniture. With a large, comforting bed, a nightstand set beside it with a candle resting on top, and a dresser on the far wall for the clothes of who ever was staying.

“Wow,” Trader breathed, his voice holding an air of wonder. To him, in comparison with his old home, it might as well be a five star suite.

“It used to be an apple cellar,” Applejack said, showing him around, “but it got too small so we made a new one just beneath the barn. Then, we decided to make this into a guest room, just in case anypony visitin' needed a place to stay.”

As he looked around, Trader was suddenly filled with a sense of unease. “Uh... Applejack, are you sure you want me staying here? I really don't want to impose.”

A sharp giggle immediately left the mare in response. “Don't you fret none,” she replied. “You're an old friend in need of a place to stay. It wouldn't be right, or hospitable, to do anythin' else.”

“Well... thank you,” Trader said.

Applejack held a cheerful smile. “Think nothin' of it. Now, you need to get some rest. We gotta get up early tomorrow if Ah'm gonna teach you what it's like to work on Sweet Apple Acres.”

---

Little did Trader know, Applejack was right when she said they would get getting up early. To him, it felt as though the moment he shut his eyes to sleep, he was already awoken by a hoof shaking his bed rapidly.

“Come on, Trader,” Applejack said, repeatedly pushing against the mattress. “Up and at 'em, it's time to get to work.”

“Wha?” the pegasus murmured, his head rising slightly from beneath the blankets. “Wha... what time is it?”

“Just a few hours before sunrise,” the orange-coated mare replied, her own drowsiness looking nonexistent.

A heavy groan escaped from within the covers as the stallion shifted in his place. “If Celestia's not even awake, why do I need to be?”

“We gotta get to work extra early if Ah'm gonna show you the ropes,” she replied.

Another groan of defiance left the stallion. Though he was prepared for an early rise, this seemed unreasonable. “Just a few more minutes,” he begged like a foal not wanting to go to school, “please!”

Applejack's eyes narrowed into a glare toward his attitude, but it was only held for a few moments as it shifted into a devious grin. Trader felt the rocking of his bed cease and heard Applejack's hoofs striking the wooden stairs as she ascended them, figuring she had relented to him.

The farmpony didn't go very far however, as he could hear her voice coming from the top of the stairs. “Alright, Big Mac, he ain't gettin' up! Get the crop!” Trader's eyes flared open as he heard the shuddering sound of a whip cracking.

“I'm up, I'm up!” he cried out, frantically kicking his legs to quickly get out of bed. Toppling out of bed, he collapsed onto the hard floor in a heap, taking the covers with him. As his racing heart slowly returned to its normal pace, he could hear the faint sound of snickering coming from the top of the stairs.

Comments

[High_Wind]

downhillwalkers.co.uk/communities/1/004/008/315/281/images/4538391771.jpg

all the motivation you'll ever need

[Majk]

Yeh, now that is one way to get ones attention in the morning. Solid oc, believable interactions with the cast and general, happy feels so far. Good stuff.