Reconciling Annabelle Smith

by Crowley

Part 2

Sweet Apple Acres

Present Day

“Hello.”

The old mare in the doorway mimics your first word to her in years. Not that it’s the only thing on either of your minds; a thousand questions are trying to manifest at once, and you have no idea which one to start with. Finally, the old mare steps back from the door, beckoning you inside. It should be easier to arrange your thoughts once you’ve settled down.

Once you’re through the doorway, the world around you makes a change for the… cosier. A homely family living room welcomes you. Specks of dust dance in the warm sunlight from the windows. Family photographs and mementos dot the shelves, cupboards and cabinets. A few bits of furniture are strewn about in places where they seemed the most convenient, one of which is a pillow-clad rocking chair by a dormant fireplace.

However, the old mare sits down on the sofa instead, letting you sit next to her. Her amber eyes never stray from you as you look her up and down, just to make extra certain; it sounds impossible to you, but… it’s true. That’s your Annabelle Marie Smith staring back at you.

Funny. You always thought she’d be young forever.

“Time’s been kind to you, huh?” Her voice breaks the thick silence.

You swallow uncertainly, “I wouldn‘t say so.”

She leans back in her side of the sofa, her tired eyes looking you up and down like a puzzle. “So what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s been… sixty years? Sixty years since we last spoke. There‘s gotta be a reason why you‘re comin‘ back to open a long-rotten can o‘ worms.” Her eyebrows furrow slightly; “Aren’t you gonna take that heavy coat off?”

You feel your heart beat faster at those words; she obviously doesn’t know about the sorry state of your near-featherless wings yet.

“I’d rather not.”

“So after all this time, all these years, you come back and you aren’t even staying long?” an edge to her voice can be felt; nice to know that it can still cut.

“That’s not what I meant, I‘m just… not comfortable showing my wings off these days.”

The aged mare’s lips twist as if she‘s tasted something sour. “Who are you and what have you done with the stallion I knew from so long ago? The one that spread his wings proudly at every chance he got. Heck, the stallion whose wings carried him up to his very dreams.”

“You want to know what happened to that stallion, Annabelle?”

You don’t risk calling her Annie to her face; it’s been far too long since you were allowed to do that. Instead, you stand up from the sofa. For a moment, Annie pulls a face as if she was expecting you to head for the door upon getting up. Instead, you undo the fastenings on your heavy trench coat and remove it as carefully as possible; you wouldn’t want to damage your already weak appendages.

Three things drop to the floor that moment. Your coat as it slides away, revealing the quivering remains of your once proud wings. Annie’s jaw when she recognises the grim ailment. Your eyes when you realise you can’t stand looking at her while you’re… well, naked.

It’s a long silence before she gathers herself enough to talk;

“So that’s why you’re here.” her voice is as dry as a wasteland in a heat wave, “Tyin’ up loose ends before-”

“Before the Wing-Rot… yeah.”

You spread your almost-bare wings to show her the full extent of the condition. You feel Annie’s eyes count the five feathers that are still there. “How long do you have left?”

“How long?” you shake your head; any previous attempt to measure your rate of feather-loss had proved fruitless. “Sometimes I can go a whole week without losing a single feather, sometimes I lose three in one day.”

Annabelle doesn’t say a thing. You’d hate to leave her hanging on such a sour note.

“I’ll be here tomorrow, that’s for sure.” you say in a lighter tone, picking up your coat and carefully draping it over yourself, “And I can stay here for the rest of the day, if you’ll let me.”

Annie Smith’s voice makes a sound that you’d expect from somepony finding a diamond in the dirt, but trying not to make a big deal of it. “Of course you can stay here! Heck, we’d set you up in the guest room if it weren‘t already taken. I’ll get the kettle on, you still drink tea, don’t you..?”

“Do I ever!”

From that point onward, the general atmosphere begins to improve. You and your old friend spent the rest of the day conversing about… nearly everything.

“…So after I left for the Scarlet Wings Academy, they just told me to get some sleep on arrival, and training would begin at first light…”

“…Our farm started to grow, sure, but it was difficult handling it with one less stallion and an increasing demand…”

*******

You both had so much to talk about, and it went on for so long. Not a single minute of it was dull or tedious to you as your mind drank up every year of Annie’s life since you last said goodbye.

“About ten years after your… departure, I finally learned to fall in love again. He was a sweet, humble stallion called Oak Apple.”

“Would you say he gave you a better love life than I would have, Annabelle?”

“Without a doubt.”

“That’s a good thing, then. I’d never wish for you to end up with somepony worse than me.”

*******

Annabelle stays attentive throughout your life-story ramblings too, well on until Celestia’s sun is being brought down behind the mountainside.

“…So here I am. Old. Retired. But satisfied with what I’ve done with my life.” You pause to reconsider your last statement. “Well, mostly satisfied.”

Annabelle leans forward a little, as if expecting you to elaborate. Better not let her down.

“I don’t have many enemies.” You rub your fore-hooves together out of nervous habit. “Most of them either brought to justice or reformed. In any case, I really don’t like the idea of… not…” you struggle to find the right words for a moment, “…not reconciling with anypony who I’ve wronged. Most of all, you.”

“What are you trying to say, dear?”

“I’m saying I don’t want to die without apologising for what happened between us. About our last encounter. About how it all fell apart.”

Annabelle says nothing. You can tell by the look in her amber eyes that she’s weighing up her options in her head, but never too sure with which one to run with. You decide to steady her ongoing silent debate with herself.

“Just think about it for now. I’m here for as long as I need to be.”

She didn’t quite hear you mutter the words “I hope“ at the end.

Eventually, you see yourself out, weary from the conversation, with the intention of seeing her again tomorrow. A friendly game of chess in Ponyville park, she insists. You’ve always had fond memories of that park.

Comments

[RSGuitarguyAlvez]

“Of course you can stay here! Heck, we’d set you up in the guest room if it weren‘t already taken.

Lemme guess... "Her Whole Darn Heart"?

[Lucky424]

You’ve always had fond memories of that park.

Hmm... what did Annie and 'I' do there....
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...thank you, Gilda.

[Dragaen]

3064322 actually I'd guess it's for a certain colt, I believe the one you're referring to is sleeping with a certain farm pony we all know and trust.

[chavis54]

Crowley I am amazed by the amount of sentimtalism in this
Not sing it's bad, I'm saying it great.
I can only imagine how much effort you pour into your fics mon.
And it's not even the 4th chapter yet, LET'S KEEP GOING MUTHA***KA!