Year Three: Mother's Day
Year Three: Mother’s Day
Filthy Rich stooped over the priceless, hoof-carved coffee table in his living room. He busied himself with a small telegram machine and a list of Equestrian apple vendors. With a few harsh, uncouth words from Applejack, his irritation quickly churned into desperation. Zap Apple Jam season was but a few months away. A replacement was needed, and soon.
The stallion ignored the knock at his door. He kept his gaze glued to his machine, printing up multiple copies of his announcement and quickly going down his list. Surely, there must be somepony else who could grow Zap Apples, he thought. He barely registered a filly slowly trotting into his living room.
“Mister… Mister Rich?” a filly's voice asked.
“Yes?” he grunted, tapping his plea on the keys.
“Is Diamond Tiara alright?”
Filthy Rich looked up and found Silver Spoon watching him intently, her muzzle taut with worry. He answered, “Yes, she is fine. Grounded, but fine. Apparently, Applejack decided that the Apples were too good to be my supplier.”
Hissing through his gritted teeth, the stallion added, “Apparently, there were some ponies who teased her precious little sister and cousin enough to justify terminating our contract.”
Silver Spoon twirled her braid in her forehooves and stared at the floor.
“That’s right. Deviants or no deviants, those fillies just cost me a lot of sleep—all four of them. For now, I have no time for silly games. I’ve got business to attend to. Why don’t you two juvenile delinquents converse upstairs?” Filthy snarled.
He flared his nostrils and dismissed her with his disregard. The stallion furiously pounded out additional telegrams. Silver Spoon excused herself from the living room.
Trotting up the stairs, Silver Spoon let his words sink and drown into their depths. Sweet Apple Acres’ specialty crop provided a bulk of Rich’s sales. Diamond Tiara spoke highly of her father, practically falling to his hindhooves in worship. Now, it seemed that the princess had angered her king. No peace would be found in the castle tonight.
The princess’s hoof-maiden knocked on the door to her chambers, whispering, “D-Diamond Tiara?”
Diamond Tiara, her mane in disarray, her eyes bruised and bloodshot, angrily opened the door. “What do you want, Silver Spoon?!”
Surprised by her venom, she stumbled, “I… I was just wanting to make sure you were alright… your dad sent me away when I brought you home, don’t you remember?”
Diamond Tiara huffed. “Of course I remember! What kind of pony do you take me for?! An idiot?!”
“No! No! Of course not!” Silver took a tentative hoof-step backwards. “I was just making sure—oh, forget it. I’m just glad you’re alright.”
“Hmph. Whatever.”
“Can I please come in?”
With an eye-roll and a bellows-sigh, Diamond relented, “I suppose so.” She backed away from the door and allowed Silver Spoon to enter.
Diamond's room was perfectly circular, generously decorated, and contained far more treasures than anypony could dream to possess. The walls were painted shades of pink, purple, blue, and silver—the gentle tones of an overcast sunset. Silver Spoon had spent many a night here with her best and only friend throughout the years. The two alone kept the entire tabloid industry employed. Gabby Gums may have retired, but she reigned queen in the Rich household.
Both fillies sat on their haunches on the edge of Diamond’s plush, luxurious poster bed. On the nightstand rested Diamond's most prized possession. Thankfully, the bully from the East hadn’t taken her savage hooves to that as well. Though Silver Spoon abhorred herself for being so cowardly—even Apple Bloom managed to get a hoof in their tussle—she was grateful nothing was broken.
Diamond Tiara scowled, crossing her forehooves across her bruised chest. “I still can’t believe Daddy is grounding me!” she whined. “Me! And I didn’t even start this whole mess!”
“You’re right, Diamond Tiara,” Spoon soothed. “That is sooooooooooo not fair. How long is he going to do it this time?”
She flopped a forehoof in annoyance. “I have no idea. I’m hoping not too much longer than last time.”
“How long was last time?”
“A week, before he forgot. That was when we went and saw that concert in Canterlot.”
“Oh… right.”
“That could’ve been such a great concert if it wasn’t for… ugh… Could you believe those fillyfoolers in front of us?” Diamond scowled and rolled her eyes at the twisted recollection. Tiara and Spoon had mustered the finest tickets from the scalper they found find. Second row, dead and center. With two fillies all over each other in the front and best row. Of course.
Silver Spoon played with her braid again. “Heh… yeah. That was pretty… gross.”
“Pfft. Whatever. I just can’t believe the nerve of those two. Babs and Apple Bloom. Being like that. How can they…” Diamond Tiara paused.
Silver asked, “How can they…?”
“How can they find a special somepony—even if it’s each other--when I can’t?!” Diamond burst up from her haunches and down to her hooves. Stomping around her room, kicking discarded clothes or magazines carelessly to the side, she demanded, “What’s so special about them? Huh? Tell me that, Silver Spoon!”
Diamond Tiara spun around to face her friend. Her mane flowed behind her, waves of lavender and pink, perfectly styled. In spite of Babs's assault, she was lovely and radiant. A small smirk spread across her muzzle, rows of sparkling molars.
Silver Spoon suppressed her most immediate thoughts. Truthfully, she thought Diamond Tiara was beautiful. Beyond beautiful. It was a fact nopony could deny, no matter their evidence. Silver brushed aside her trickster consciousness, its whisperings threatening to venture into the land of the taboo and the unknown. Silver cried a mental, Hi-ho, and yanked the reins.
Diamond urged, “Well, Silver Spoon?”
Silver gasped. “Huh?”
“Were you even paying attention to what I said?!”
“Of course! S-s-sorry, Diamond!” Immediately, she blurted, “I don’t know! All I know is that you’re much more special than those two fillyfoolers.”
There it was, that word again. It rolled over her tongue and landed on the carpet. It curled up there, stuck, and pleaded to Silver Spoon, begging her not to abandon it.
It was different this time. It changed. Perhaps it was the way she pronounced it. More emphasis on the”fi” or the “ool” changed the whole course of its meaning. No. That couldn’t be it.
“Hey! Equestria to Silver Spoon!” Diamond pressed her muzzle against hers, barreling down upon her, blue eyes striking violet with fury. “What the hay is wrong with you?”
Blushing, Silver retreated, nearly falling off the bed. “S-s-sorry, Diamond!” Her repetition betrayed her, this utterance more trembling than its predecessor.
Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes. “I swear… it’s like you have somepony else on your mind half the time. You’ve been soooo spacey lately. It’s one of the colts in class, isn’t it?”
“Oh! Yes! One of the colts,” Silver Spoon agreed.
Silver realized with horror that she barely knew the names of their male classmates. Wishing to snap her own spine and send her head rolling somewhere beyond the desert of Diamond’s room—Celestia, just kill me now—she steered the conversation elsewhere. “Diamond Tiara… I was wondering something earlier today. After your dad sent me home.”
Diamond strode over to her nightstand and retrieved her tiara. She carefully ran a forehoof over its edges, delicate and smooth. Observing its craftsmanship, praising the brevity and intricacy of her design, Diamond smiled. One ear pricked and one closed, she said, “Go on, Silver Spoon.”
Silver asked, “Well… why exactly do you hate Babs Seed so much?”
The tiara slipped from her forehooves, landing safely on the nightstand.
Silver Spoon scrambled, her words slipping away, grains of sand in this blazing desert. “I mean! Don’t get me wrong! I understand hating on Apple Bloom and all. She’s a blankflank, for Celestia’s sake. Almost fifteen and still a blankflank? It’s unheard of. But Babs has her cutiemark , and she’s—“
Diamond snapped, “I just don’t like her, alright?”
Around the princess’s castle, the drawbridge snapped shut. The moat rose, thick, churning waters. Several guards-ponies drew their blades in challenge to anypony who’d dare to lay siege. The princess turned away from her hoof-maiden and said, “That’s good as enough reason as any, Silver Spoon. And don’t you forget it.”
~
Applejack’s word was her own law. She vowed competence and consistency in all her rulings. The Element of Honesty, after all, could speak nothing but the truth, lest she fade into gray and black. She knew that Babs Seed and Apple Bloom were right for standing on all four hooves against that awful filly and her little follower. She also understood the demands of the farm in the light of springtime. Finally, she recognized two fillies with far too much time on their hooves. Applejack utilized the fanciest of mathematics and solved two problems at once.
“Now, Ah talked ta Cheerilee, an’ ya won’t be suspended on Monday, Babs,” Applejack assured over breakfast the next morning. “Jus’ ta-day. Apple Bloom, yer fine fer school this morn. Once ya get off, however, Ah’m gonna put ya ta work. In the meantime, Babs, why don’t ya go help Big Mac plow some mo’?”
Babs grumbled into her bowl of oats, “What?! Am I the only workhorse ‘round heeya o’ summat?”
“Bite yer tongue, missy!” Applejack scolded. “Ah told ya already. Ah think ya did the right thing, both o’ ya, but yer still suspended from school. An’ Ah’ll be darned if ya jus’ laze ‘round all day.” She cleared the table of two plates, leaving the third to the scowling filly.
Apple Bloom reached across the table and patted her forehoof. “Don’t worry, Babsy! Ah’ll be home soon, an Ah’ll help ya.”
Dammit. Dat nickname ‘gain. “I-I’m fine,” Babs dismissed. The bowl of cold, soggy oats became the epicenter of her universe. Oats no good no mo’. Too cold. Room’s not hot enough ta warm ‘em. Yeesh.
“Sure ya are. An’ don’t worry,” said Apple Bloom. “Ah’ll take care o’ Silver Spoon if she gives me a hard time. After all, Ah punched a tiara—Ah think Ah can punch a spoon, too.”
“Nopony’s punchin’ anythin’—even utensils!” Applejack called from the kitchen. “Scoot yer boot, Apple Bloom! School’s gonna start soon!”
Giggling, she gathered her schoolbags and trotted out the door. Not, of course, before winking to Babs Seed, saying, “Ah’ll make ya proud, Babsy.”
Though her hunger dissipated in the wake of a strange tension and queasiness in her abdomen, Babsy ate her oats anyway. She’d reckoned she needed the strength. Room and cheeks loaning no heat, they were cold, thick, sawdust swimming in a bowl. She reluctantly finished them.
Applejack soon banished Babs Seed the juvenile delinquent to the fields. There, Big Macintosh waited, with his bags of seeds and his plow.
~
The school day flew by with enough force to rival the most daring of Wonderbolts. Apple Bloom caught Silver Spoon glaring at her several times from the corner of her eyeglasses, but otherwise was left alone. Cheeriliee’s class exchanged excited whispers behind the schoolteacher’s back. Yesterday’s fight had been the most action they’d seen all year, and they hungered for more. The majority agreed that Babs Seed had been the victor; the dissenters, of course, chose the minority for far more superficial reasons. Diamond Tiara was a beautiful filly.
Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle offered their spark and hover to assist Apple Bloom in the war against Diamond and Silver. Apple Bloom declined. Her savior made her point vocal and violent. She doubted that there would be much more to come. Nopony could be that foalish.
As promised, Applejack transitioned her sibling from one form of torture to the next. Physical trumped mental. Apple Bloom wished to be back in Cheerilee’s classroom, listening the mare drone into infinity about chromosomes and codons—“And this, class, is why every pony is so unique, just like everypony else!”—instead of under the spring sun, hauling dirt.
Dirt. Mounds and mounds of it. Mountains and molehills. Applejack assigned her cousin the plow, her brother the seeds, and her sister the cart. Applejack troubled herself with cleaning the farmhouse. No good deed went unpunished on Sweet Apple Acres.
“Youze alright, Apple Bloom?” Babs asked. Apple Bloom was soaked to her marrow, panting with exertion. Back and forth she went, one side of the farm to the other, cart full of fresh earth.
Apple Bloom snorted. “O’ course Ah am! Don’t ya worry ‘bout me, silly filly! Worry ‘bout yerself! Ya’ve been pullin’ the plow all day.”
Big Mac nodded in agreement. “Want me ta take over, Babs? Ain’t much mo’ ta do.”
“I’m fine. Youze two worry mo’ than Ma does!”
“Oh! That reminds me!” Apple Bloom exclaimed. “Applejack wanted me ta ask ya. Did ya want ta go visit Auntie Orange, Citrus, an’ Braeburn Sunday by yerself, o’ did ya want somepony ta come wit’ ya?”
“… Sunday? What’s Sunday?”
“Ma’s Day,” Apple Bloom answered.
“… Ma’s Day?” Babs repeated.
“Oh, c’mon! Ya really forgot?”
A stallion, gifted with seeming telepathy, replied for her. “Eeyup.”
~
Saturday came and went. Babs Seed served the remainder of her sentence. She’d become accustomed to the weight of the horse collar and the tug of the plow behind her. Like a bullet train, she rocketed through her labor, sunup until sundown. Mother’s Day looming on the horizon, she found plenty of time for quiet contemplation. In that haze, she made her choice. She would go to Appleloosa alone Sunday morning.
That Sunday morning, an iron forehoof stabbed her back, pulling her from dreams of endless rows of untitled soil. “Aah! Horseapples, dat hurts!”
“Babs! Are ya alright?” Apple Bloom pulled away from Babs, staring down at her hoof in shock. She’d merely nudged her… hadn’t she?
Babs Seed pushed up on all four of her hooves. Strong, powerful, she rose, feeling muscles ripple and tense, sinew and ligaments intact. Then, she stretched her back, and fell down to the mattress in pain. “Aaah! Apple Bloom, go get—“
Fetlocks tickled her spine and pressed down against her shoulders. Slowly, they traversed in slow circles around her withers and back. “… Applejack,” Babs finished, exhaling.
Apple Bloom leaned over her and whispered into her intact right ear, “Shh. It’s okay. Ah’ve had ta do this fer Applejack an’ Big Mac befo’. Does it hurt when Ah do this?”
Feverish, Babs closed her eyes and sighed. “No… Aah! Yes! Jus’… ugh. I thought I was doin’ fine… but I guess I overworked maself.”
“Silly filly. Ah asked ya if you needed ma help.”
“I didn’t wanna hurt youze. Dat was heavy.”
Apple Bloom giggled. “Aww, protectin’ me again? An’ gettin’ in trouble fer it, too. Ya must like me o’ somethin’.”
Babs deflected, “Heh. Speakin’ o’ protectin’, did Fork say anythin’ ta youze?”
Apple Bloom stopped mid-massage. “Fork?” she repeated, confused.
Gotta keep youze names straight. Not everypony gets a glimpse inside dis twisted mind o’ youze. “Uh, I meant, Spoon! Silver Spoon!”
“Oh.” Apple Bloom shook her muzzle and dug her a forehoof into a particularly nasty knot in Babs's shoulder. Chuckling, she assured, “Nope! She didn’t say a word. Guess she figured it out, finally.”
“Figured what out?”
“Don’t mess wit’ Apples.” Apple Bloom released Babs Seed from her grasp. “Try standin’ up now.”
Four hooves pushed back up and did not falter. Jumping from the bed and joining her on the floor, Babs Seed stretched and popped the kinks out of her joints. “Youze a miracle worker, Apple Bloom," she said, blood rushing to her face as well as her freed back and shoulder muscles.
Nuzzling her neck, Apple Bloom replied, “Not as much as ya are, hero.”
Applejack rushed up the stairs and crossed the threshold into the fillies’ room. “C’mon, Babs! We’re gonna be late if ya keep dawdlin’! Apple Bloom, can ya go start the mornin’ chores? Mac’s still sleepin’, lazy stallion,” she grumbled.
Babs Seed turned to follow a fleeing, irritated Applejack. A forehoof on her shoulder halted her. “Wait!”
“What is it, Bloom?” Babs asked, facing her.
“Say hi ta Auntie Orange fer me, alright?”
Babs confirmed her request with a nod and kept it at the forefront of her mind. Throughout the trek out of the farmhouse, to the Ponyville train station, and alone on the locomotive, she realized a curious thing. It made her shudder, thankful that she’d forsaken breakfast in her haste.
The morning of Mother’s Day, Babs Seed rocketed towards Appleloosa, debating the best way to tell “Auntie Orange” something more than hello.
~
Diamond Tiara slept late Sunday mornings. Today was no exception. Celestia’s sun rose to high noon and punished her laziness. Light blared through her window, prying her eyelids open without sympathy.
She yawned and rolled back into the covers. Below, she heard the telltale stomp of hooves against floorboards, the casual SLAM! of a heavy perimeter door. Her father memorized the calendar, his mind far surpassing hers in organization and recall. Someday, she hoped, she would reign over Barnyard Bargains and the Rich Family household with finesse that awed the stallion.
He’d barely spoken to her Friday or Saturday. Diamond Tiara doubted that this was due to her trespasses. For years, he’d been distant, aloof, burying himself in voluntary overtime and an endless string of meetings.
When she was younger, Diamond Tiara wished upon every star two things. The first was that her father would spend less time at the office. This was a worthless, throwaway yearning. The stallion knew bits like Pinkie Pie knew cupcakes, or like that bobtailed filly and her worthless cousin knew apples.
Diamond Tiara’s second wish was far more hollow and pointless. On this Sunday morning, she struggled not to remember it, nor the day the newest Cutie Mark Crusader sent her and Silver Spoon flying into the mud.
Nearly three years ago, Diamond Tiara began to hate Babs Seed. It was not the mud, nor the pig, nor the dirtying of her precious jewelry that prompted her disdain. No. That was far too superficial, even for a precocious liar such as she.
It was what Babs said.
~
“Ma!”
Babs Seed disembarked the train, dusk looming on the horizon. Quickly, she caught the sight of her mother impatiently waiting near the station’s ticket-booth. Crying out her name, she galloped straight into the mare's open forehooves.
“Babs! Honey, it’s been so long!” Libra exclaimed. She barely had to crouch on her hindhooves to see eye-to-eye with her youngest. Laughing, she nuzzled the filly, explaining, “Oh, I’m so glad to see you! I sent Applejack a letter asking if everypony would be coming down to see us last week, but I didn’t get a reply.”
“Heh. Sorry, Ma. Applejack gave me the option, an’, well… I guess… I jus’ wanted ta see youze by maself,” Babs answered with a smile. “Nothin’ ‘gainst AJ, Mac, o’ Bloom, ‘course. I jus’ wanted ta see youze an’ Citrus an’ Brae.” An’ talk ta youze… privately.
“That’s alright, sweetheart. This is the best Mother’s Day gift you could’ve given me,” Libra said, holding the filly tight.
Babs Seed returned the gesture. “Happy Ma’ s Day.”
~
“So, you’re leaving, huh?”
Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon trotted around the corner of the station platform. There, their newest and second friend, Babs Seed, waited for the Manehatten train to arrive. She was not alone. The three obnoxious blankflanks and the yellow one’s older sister accompanied the bobtail filly. All four were dressed in those obnoxious crimson Cutie Mark Crusader capes.
“Great!” Diamond exclaimed sarcastically. “Now we’re stuck here with these LAME blankflanks!” She gestured to the three fillies cowering at the mare’s hooves. One of their capes lost its patch, floating fittingly to the ground.
“HEY! Dat is NOT how youze talk ta ma friends!”
Babs Seed slipped in front of the three timid Crusaders and stomped towards Diamond and Silver. The two fillies turned to each other, incredulous. “F-friends?” stuttered Silver Spoon.
“Yea. Youze got a problem wit’ dat?” Babs challenged, narrowing her gaze.
Diamond Tiara countered as she lunged at her, “Well, what if I DO? What are YOU going to do about it?”
Babs Seed glanced back at her friends. Suddenly, she smiled, impish and scheming, and declared, “Tell youze mothas ‘bout youze bad attitudes!”
Diamond felt time grind to a halt.
Silver Spoon clasped her forehooves together, begging her antagonist, pleading for mercy. Her companion remained silent, words failing beyond measure. Somehow, somewhere, time started again.
Diamond Tiara wanted to wanted to snap back, countering the traitor with her most secret truth, her heaviest burden. She wanted the bully to feel every inch and ounce and second of her anguish. She wanted to howl with the emptiness that wracked through her soul at at the thickly-accented word. Mothas. Mother.
Babs's threat was hollow. Diamond Tiara had no mother.
Not anymore. Never again.
Her throat just as closed as her heart, Diamond Tiara couldn't speak. Instead, she rapidly shook her head, eyes wide and apologetic. Her unspoken request fell on blind eyes and deaf ears. Babs Seed lurched forward towards them, a wicked grin across her countenance.
Surprised, Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara fell backwards into the mud, to the high-hoof of three foals.
~
Libra guided her filly out of the bustling station, reunions of all joys occurring beside them. She noted that Babs came sans saddlebags or gifts, but didn’t mind. Applejack surely hadn’t mentioned it to her daughter and niece, but times had been tough in Appleloosa recently. The general store closed permanently, leaving Citrus and Libra to the mercy of the orchards. The Buffalo took their tribute soon afterwards, leaving branches bare for the foreseeable next few weeks.
Libra Scales vowed to pay back her elder niece, once she was back on her hooves. She led Babs Seed towards the orchards, the two of them quickly catching up on their lost time. Parchment flowed more frequently between Ponyville and Appleloosa, though it’d never be enough.
“An’ Big Mac says I’m real good wit’ the plow… becomin’ a right ol’ Apple, I guess, heh,” Babs said, trotting alongside her mother with a grin.
Libra ruffled her filly's mane, strands a little too long, but soft nonetheless. “Yes, you are, Babs. You really are.”
The two of them arrived at the highest point in Appleloosa above the orchards below. A small group of Buffalo stampeded through Aunt Barbara’s orchard, twisting and turning and galloping around the barren trees. Though dusk called, warning of coyotes to come, the Buffalo tribe chased their tradition. The herd traversed through their sacred stampeding grounds to an audience of two.
“They’re amazing, aren’t they?” Libra whispered.
“Yea. Dey sure are. Reckless, wild, an’ free,” Babs mused. Kinda what I want ta be. Maybe, iffa an’ when, I grow up. Not bound ta anypony o’ anythin’, jus’ followin’ the road. Dust an’ diamonds, no concrete o’ cobblestone. “Hey… Ma?”
“Yes, Babs?”
“Where’s Citrus an’ Brae?”
“They’re at the cabin. Making Mother’s Day dinner for me,” she answered with a chuckle. “Homemade apple pie. Citrus is learning how to cook.”
Babs snorted. “Citrus? Cook?”
“She is learning,” repeated Libra. “Remember that, in case it doesn’t taste so well.”
“Heh, I will.”
Babs Seed leaned against her mother, watching the desert sun disappear into the void below the horizon. The skies afire with flames of sunset cast perfect light on the apple trees and stampeding silhouettes below. Been nearly a year since I was heeya. Shoulda come mo’ often. Sure is beautiful. Gotta write mo’. Gotta ride mo’. Maybe I should get a job, earn some bits…
Libra asked, “Babs, honey?”
“Yea, Ma?”
“This might sound like a strange question, but… I’ve just been wondering about it. You’re nearly fifteen now. In a few years, you’ll be a mare, and there’ll be a lot we’ll need to discuss,” Libra said. “But, for now, I’ve just been wondering…
“Babs… is there somepony special in your life right now?”
Shit.
Babs Seed gulped, then swallowed. A stone caught in her throat and plummeted into her stomach, sending waves of sickening acid into the liner. Tthough she’d refused breakfast and packed no snacks for the long ride to Appleloosa, she felt no stirrings of hunger. Just the opposite. Desert night rolling in with the spreading dark above provided no relief. A single drop of sweat trailed down her nape.
Libra raised an eyebrow. “I guess… that’s a no?”
I’m a good liar. I’m a good liar. I’m a good liar. Babs closed her eyes, willing the mantra back under the rug. No. Youze don’t lie ta ponies who love youze. Even iffa the truth hurts. It’s lies what got me in the mess I was in…
Crimson from snout to throat, Babs stammered, “N-n-no. I mean! Y-yes. There’s somepony, Ma.”
Smiling softly, Libra teased, “Oh? So some lucky colt has captured my daughter’s heart?” Throwing her mane back to the gentle breeze, she chuckled and said, “Oh, Babs, please, tell me all about him.”
Silence.
“Babs?”
“Ma…”
“Yes?”
“What iffa… what iffa it’s not a colt?"
Libra blinked. The silence struck again, thick and nauseating in the waning of sand’s scorch below their hooves. Then, the mare pulled her filly close and whispered, “That’s alright, too, darling. I’ll always love you, even if you love fillies.”
Baffled, Babs gasped and cried, “Really?!”
“Of course.” Holding her tight, Libra explained, “Your Aunt Barbara was like that, Babs. She couldn’t help it. Some ponies are just that way. She tried to suppress her feelings, and was married for a while to Braeburn’s father. When she finally… came out about it… it was messy. Much more messy than if she’d been honest in the first place.
“I’m a little surprised, Babs, but I’m not mad. You’re growing up. You’re realizing who you are. It’s around this time that you start figuring those sort of things out.”
Babs exhaled an enormous sigh of relief.
Not for long.
Pulling away from her daughter, Libra jabbed her filly in the shoulder and taunted, “Alright, who’s the lucky filly, then?”
Babs Seed rubbed the back of her neck with a forehoof. “Youze said dat youze love me know matta how I…. feel ‘bout somepony, right, Ma?” Libra nodded. “Well… I think I like, um…”
~
A servant came in around 1500 sharp, offering her a daisy and daffodil sandwich. She refused. Hunger on days like this was defiling, mocking, superfluous. Her mouth was too dry, anyway. Cells cried out in agonizing dehydration, urging her to get up, to drink a glass of water, a gallon of it. She’d lost everything in her tears.
She deafened to their molecular voices. She could take a little pain. There was no reason to flee from it, to bury it in haughtiness and confidence and projection and punches. There was no reason to hold her head high, gazing down her snout at everypony else. She was the weakling, the crybaby, blank and bare of soul if not flank.
Mother’s Day.
Five years hence, with no recipient for her meager gifts. The tiara, the first thing she’d made with her own hooves, was intended for the mare she’d loved above all others. She’d been too late, too slow, too stupid, too everything.
One day, she was there, and the next, gone. Five letters. Five years. Cancer.
Diamond Tiara buried her muzzle in her pillow, willing Babs Seed’s words away. “Tell youze mothas, tell youze mothas, tell youze mothas…”
She hated her. Bully, brute, jerk. She loathed her. Beast from the East. Mare-chaser of Manehatten. Fillyfooler from the farm. She despised her. Babs Seed. Bad Seed. Babs. The fourth Crusader. Her worst enemy.
“… Why does she get to have a mom, too?” Diamond Tiara asked her pillow, who merely shrugged and greedily drank the remnants of her final tears.
~
Her words, two simple nouns, brought forth a chill in the wind, a darkening of storm clouds, thick and heavy above. She felt those forehooves release her, and a mare take a few hoof-steps back in shock.
Lip quivering, Babs whispered through their eternity, “… Ma?”
“Your… your cousin?”
Unable to speak, Babs Seed merely nodded. She dug a forehoof for clay, avoiding the piercing gaze of her mother, who sat on her haunches in silence across from her. The sand was easy to overcome, and soon the tip of her forehoof struck the cold Earth below. Orange fetlock became matted with dark-brown mud before one of them spoke again.
By now, Luna was beginning to raise her moon in the heavens.
Mother ceased daughter’s escape, taking the offending forehoof between her own. “Babs… look. I love you. I will always love you. Nothing you could do could stop that from being the case,” Libra soothed. However, she couldn’t silence her opposition. Rationality and reason her special talent, and both of them called for fairness, balance. “But…”
“But… what, Ma?”
“Babs, are you sure this is what you want? That… she… is who you want?”
Blushing, Babs said, “Well… I… I dunno iffa I mean it dat way, Ma’. I mean—“
“Exactly. Babs, this isn’t as simple as having a crush on a classmate,” Libra said firmly. “If you have a crush on some random filly or colt at school, well, you only have to deal with them a few hours each weekday. Maybe more if you see them outside of school, on a sports team or something. And, let’s suppose you date that filly or colt. And it doesn’t work out. You can just break up with them, hon, and let them go. Do you understand that much?”
Babs Seed nodded.
“Alright. But… let’s say that you do decide you like Apple Bloom in this way. Or, maybe Citrus likes Braeburn like… that. Alright? Equestria has long had these kind of relationships among both the royal and the common. It was a way to keep bloodlines and inheritance pure and within the family’s crest and name.”
“But we aren’t—“
Libra interrupted, “I know, Babs. I know you aren’t a filly and a colt. That’s not the problem. The problem is two-fold. The first is that, well, outside of settlements like this—“ she gestured at bustling Appleloosa below—“where there aren’t very many emigrants, there aren’t these kind of relationships much anymore in Equestria. They are not illegal, per se. Cousins share one-eighth their genes. Celestia and the law-ponies beneath her have determined this to be an acceptable boundary for marriage, though it does have some genetic risks.”
“Genetic risks?” Babs asked, raising an eyebrow.
Libra shook her muzzle, dismissing a thousand Punnett Squares with one measly gesture. “Forget it. That’s not important to the situation at hoof.”
“Well… what is, Ma?”
Sighing, Libra explained, “The second problem is that, no matter how hard you try, Babs, you cannot break up with family. Assuming that such a relationship—whether it’s between you and Bloom, or Citrus and Brae, or anypony else—doesn’t work out, think of the lines that would be drawn. If Citrus and Braeburn were together, and he broke her heart, who would you side with?”
Immediately, Babs answered, “Citrus.”
“Exactly,” Libra affirmed. “See? But isn’t Braeburn family, too? Doesn’t he deserve your love and support as much as your sister? Why is he in the wrong and she in the right?”
“Well, I’m not exactly sure,” Babs muttered, staring at the sand. “I guess it’s jus’ ‘cuz—“
“Because you are closer to one over the other. That’s understandable, especially with extended family. But when you pit family members against each other… it becomes a problem. Families can split and fracture over things less divisive than love. Money, property, children’s partners... hay, even smaller things than that.
“So, you see, Babs… unless you are absolutely certain that you do feel this way, and you are certain that it will or most likely can work, you should not pursue this any further.”
Silence again.
Libra Scales forced her daughter to stare back at her. “Sweetie, even if you do feel that it is right, that you do feel love… there will be those who will not see eye-to-eye with you on the matter. They will be vocal. They will be angry. They will feel threatened. It was that way for Aunt Barbara. She hid herself for the majority of her life. She didn’t even admit she was into mares until after Braeburn was born, Babs! It was very difficult for her. Things are better for mares like her—and you, if you're certain—now, but when it comes to such an unusual relationship, that same sort of acceptance isn’t common.”
Remembering a screeching Crown and snickering Fork, Babs Seed chuckled darkly. “Yea, I noticed.”
Libra Scales asked, “Does Applejack know about this?”
“Pretty sure.”
“And Big Mac? And Granny Smith? And your friends?”
“I… I think so.”
“What do they think?”
“Dey seem pretty alright wit’ it, even iffa dey don’t understand it, o’ think it’s weird,” Babs said. She sighed and offered a slight smile to the wise mare, her own mother barely towering over her anymore. Soon, their roles would be reversed, and, perhaps then, she would have some advice of her own to give.
“Ma… it’s alright iffa youze don’t…. like it. It’s not fair o’ me ta expect youze ta. Heh.”
Libra Scales turned once more towards the orchards below, watching the last few Buffalo stampede through her sister’s livelihood. Babs Seed joined her, mother and daughter gazing in wonder. The Buffalo lived out their traditions through hoof-steps and heartbeats, carving out a twisted path among the trees. They ceased for nopony. Their culture was preserved in spite of the winds of change.
In the same vein, Libra reasoned, perhaps other things could be. “Babs…”
“Yea?”
“If… when you become a mare, if you still feel this way, and you and Apple Bloom are… partnered… my thoughts might change. Does that help?”
"I guess,” Babs answered, shrugging.
“I’m sorry, dear. It wouldn’t be fair of me to lie to you.”
Babs buried her frown, resurrecting instead the faintest of smiles. “I know.”
Offering one last piece of advice, Libra said, “Whatever you do, Babs, follow your heart, but be sure to let your mind have its say, too. Love can make us blind.”
Watching with perfect, piercing vision as the last Buffalo careened over the horizon and into their heartland beyond, Babs agreed, “Yes, it can. But, maybe, I’ll be one o’ the lucky ones. Get the best o’ both worlds. An’ youze, too. Youze deserve it, Ma.” Youze deserve summat betta than... Da.
A beige stallion galloped through the mare’s memory, his soul reckless, wild, vagabond dreams. He galloped beyond the stars, beyond the horizon, out of the desert, out of Equestria. Out of reach.
“I hope so."
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2092357
2092381
YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
2095040
About the game? Yes, I think I've heard of the game.
Hmm, yes, quite good, quite good. I'm seeing what looks like a lot of foreshadowing in this chapter.
Remember last chapter, how I talked about Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon becoming reformed? I'm kind of getting that vibe now. Rather, I am mostly for Silver Spoon. The way I see it, Silver Spoon will slowly reform, but Diamond Tiara won't. Eventually, Spoon will try to convince Tiara to stop acting so cruel, and likely at the same time confess her feelings. I don't see Diamond Tiara going for it though, even if she does feel the same way for Silver Spoon. They have a huge fight, and are no longer friends afterwards. Both of them wind up emotionally broken, more so if Diamond Tiara reciprocates Spoon's feelings. Tiara retreats further into her cruel behavior (becoming like Bernie, kinda) and Silver Spoon likely goes into a deep depression and is helped by one of the CMC. Considering the focus of the story, I'd say either Babs or AB.
At least, that's what I would write. I'm sure whatever you do will turn out great, though. So don't mind this madman with a keyboard.
I'd say this story is more deserving of a spot on the featured box than most of what makes it in there.
-RisingOne
2095828
Oh, RisingOne, you are far more than a madman with a keyboard.
Glad you enjoyed the chapter. We'll have to see how accurate your commentary is in the end. 
Oh, one more thing. This story did get featured when it was published, thanks to the awesome fans, commentors, and friends I have on here.
Thank you so much for your support, and I hope you continue to enjoy the story! 
Poor silver spoon. :( I know that feel. long chapter this time btw, good job :)
Well, now we have a better understanding of some of why DT is the way she is. It does not excuse how she acts, mind you, but, with knowledge of the problem, a solution can be found.
As much as I wish that Babs's mother was more accepting, I can understand her reasoning.
I know it's been said thousands of times before, but..."them feels".
MOAR!
Also my feels hurt, I knew somethiing like that might happen with Tiara and Spoon heh, makes sense.
The storm is growing... I can feel it. Only time will tell when she hits. But when it does, it ain't gonna be pretty.
Consider my previous objections withdrawn. As long as things continue with the current grain, I see no reason to object to anything here really.
I never label any story perfect or ten out of ten, after all, perfection requires a story to excel in every area and I can't think of any story that's ever done that, but there do exist stories that I consider flawless. That is to say, there is not part of it that I can point at and say 'that was poorly done'. That's kinda how I feel about this story. It's not perfect, and there are some parts of it that definitely aren't as good as others, and I still can't point at anyone thing and go 'yes this is an incredible example of how you should do this particular thing', but it's still a story without flaw. I can't really think of any part of it that could use serious change or a new approach, at least not after this chapter.
Too tired to think of anything
There like 50 different plots in this story. Ole
SAA is turning into one of my fave stories ever, for real.
The way you write for the characters is spot on, especially Babs who I find is tricky to write for.
Also I don't know if this is technically an origin story, but it's still awesome. Can't wait to read more
So... many... feels.... I think Babs and Applebloom make a cute couple personally (as I've said in the past) and I love the way this story is portraying everypony back and forth. Not to mention that you almost... almost... make me feel sorry for Diamond Tiara and that is saying something (cause I really don't like that character).
Good Job as always :)
Loving the story and consistent updates!
2095886
I also know that feel. :c Thanks! Glad you enjoyed the chapter.
2095911
I'll be looking forward to that poem!
And yes, I am sure that the flow seems good from description to dialogue. I would just advise keep it varied but also matching sure that your description matches either the dialogue (expands on it or whatnot) or the characters' inner thoughts.
2095972
Indeed, friend. Them feels.
2095936
Agreed on both points.
2095998
Heh, it seems possible to me. Either Spoon has a crush on her or isn't capable of making other friends.
2096012
Those instincts of yours...
2096021
Wow! Thank you for the compliments, friend. I really appreciate it.
Glad to see that you are pleased with the latest update.
2096132
2096569
Thank you, Skye Spark! Glad you are enjoying the story!
This is actually a sequel to the Alternate Universe Babs Seed origin story I wrote in December. You might want to check that out to understand a few things--why Babs is in Ponyville and her mother and sister in Appleloosa, why and what her cutiemark is (it's only briefly mentioned in here), etc. This is part two of a trilogy. Thanks again for reading and hope you continue to enjoy what I have to offer. 
2096610
Really? Wow, that is a big compliment. (To be honest, I'm kind of making myself feel sorry for Diamond Tiara too, and I *really* don't like her.) Thank you!
2097225
Thanks Aataxe!
libras face when babs came out of the closet
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
2097878 I've been watching Godzilla. Anyway if I remember this chapter was nice, the one time I read it as soon as it comes out I'm tired and barely know the jest of it
My apologies for being so late with reading this, I had to re-read past sins,
But for the love of the gods
Re-write, My childrens children cringed
2098215
2098948
Great movie! Glad you liked the chapter (what you remembered, anyway).
2099188
2099401
I think he meant that part was so suddenly tear jerking his grandchildren cringed (which i am assuming don't exist because, you know, that would be silly) I had hunch DT might not have a mom, but it's not officially canon, would be cool for an ep. where the CMC make a joke about her mother, discover she doesn't have one, and try their best to apologize, only for her mom to show up out of the blue and have DT return to bitchiness
2099423
Ahh, you're probably right. I'm having a "work doesn't brain" moment.
That would be a pretty awesome episode...with a troll ending. 
2099401 The american one or the original. which both were fine, but most Godzilla fans hate the american one.
I just was watching two japanese ones. hehe
2098215
More like when Babs mentioned who she came out with...
2099470
Japanese one is better!
Nice!
2099774 Also gonna put of reading a 22k word fic. Please never write something over 10k, I'll attempt to read a 9k chapter though. Today was boring and I just wasn't feeling today's episode.
But, I did get to watch Godzilla so yeah.
2099791
Longest chapter I've written so far was about 8.5K, and that was pushing it. I try to stay between 3000-6000. 22,000-word chapter?! Damn. Just. Damn.
I haven't watched the new episode yet.
2099832 Spoiler: It was about ponies.
2099942
Now I can't watch this episode! It's been RUINED! This is the! Worst! Possible! Thing!
2099975
2100561
Only two edits on the short story. "Kingdom feel" should be "kingdom fell," and "post hast" should be "post haste". Other than that, great job! I find it interesting when you say Silas killed Garrett three times and escaped five times. I assume this is a metaphor that will be explained later.
2100578
And this poem. Love it. Simple but powerful. Especially the contrasting narrators (italics versus plain text). A mustache has been earned!
beautiful stars glimmer like your eyes,
as your fair skin illuminates the moon,
the song of your voice is carried by the wind,
a melody for the dew-dressed grass
to waltz in,
the fireflies glow like your smile,
the waves of your mane shimmering
as the water beneath the moon,
your beauty lays scattered across the night,
as the tides of yesterday summon you like a memory.
Dearly departed, how I wish i could see you today
2100561 it's stories like these that make you wish that you could hit the "thumbs up" button multiple times.
2100815
Dang! I want to read this! Where is this! It doesn't sound like a pony fanfic, is it on another site? Link it! this story is interesting!
2100851 I've actually never heard that song.
I was actually inspired by Vanilla Twilight, which is also by Owl City.
2100882 whaaaaaaat
is it going to be an actual, published story or something?! If so when is it to be released?
2100940 awesome!
2099401Though you know I love your work, That paragraph reminded me of lines from many a bad teen love book, Also that heresy of a fanfiction that I am scared to even speak of,, I beg of you, please revise that paragraph
2101828
Oh, now I understand! I'll do so when I get a chance.
2100847
One word. Awesome.
2101828
Revised a bit. Hope you like.
“How can they find a special somepony—even if it’s each other--when I can’t?!”
Well, that's it. Call off the airstrikes, my opinion just careered around a lamppost.
(Don't get me wrong, they're still Bitches, I just don't have a huge urge to
killattack them now)Oh my gosh! Silver Spoon is so totally in love with Diamond Tiara!
On top of everything else, they're hypocrites.
Up until this point, this story has fanned the flames of my hatred for Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. And this chapter goes and pulls the rug out under me. Now, I can't help but feel bad about Diamond Tiara.
She's as bad as she is because her mother is dead, and Babs unknowingly ground some salt into her wound. 
I imagine peace will come when somepony starts opening up about this. Will that happen or will Diamond Tiara just let it fester? I'll have to go find out.
Oh my gosh! Silver Spoon is so totally in love with Diamond Tiara!
On top of everything else, they're hypocrites.
Up until this point, this story has fanned the flames of my hatred for Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. And this chapter goes and pulls the rug out under me. Now, I can't help but feel bad about Diamond Tiara.
She's as bad as she is because her mother is dead, and Babs unknowingly ground some salt into her wound. 
I imagine peace will come when somepony starts opening up about this. Will that happen or will Diamond Tiara just let it fester? I'll have to go find out.
It's always much more interesting to see what made bad characters bad. I really do like how you're giving reasons why the antagonists are the antagonists instead of them being evil for the sake of needing a bad guy.
That said, you sure offed an awful lot of mothers. O_o