1: It starts with an idea

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Applejack furrowed her brow and did her best to concentrate on the numerous facts, figures and numbers displayed on the pages of the ledger in front of her. She ran her teeth slowly along the groove she had worn in the top of the pencil held in her mouth, then scribbled another pair of notes in the margin of the piece of paper next to her. Two other sheets had already been filled with diagrams and annotations and lay discarded in the wastebin.

There were very few work-related activities on Sweet Apple Acres that Applejack did not enjoy doing, but keeping the farm’s ledger up to date was definitely one of those. It was not that she was bad at maths, but checking and double-checking sales figures of apples from the past month, measuring incomes against expenses and comparing those again with the projected incomes and expenses… It was a whole lot of tedious number-crunching and sitting on her tail, and all she could think of was how that time could be better spent fixing the broken window pane in the barn.

Normally her brother volunteered to do the bookkeeping, and Applejack was more than happy to let him do it. The big guy actually seemed to enjoy it. Applejack could swear she had seen him smiling while scribbling away in the ledger on more than one occasion. Unfortunately for her, Big Mac was also out of town for another two days; he and Cheerilee were on a week-long holiday to visit Cheerilee's family in Baltimare.

And you were the one who assured him it was all right for him to go, Applejack reminded herself. In fact, you insisted that you wanted to try your hoof at bookkeeping again, so don’t you dare start getting grumpy at Mac, missy.

And it was true; Applejack had wanted to try again. As much as she loathed that ledger and its smug cover of unassuming blankness, she also knew that it was a valuable and important skill to maintain and polish. Applejack took a quiet pride in being able to perform all her tasks well, even the ones she disliked, and if that meant spending hours working away at these darn pages, then so be it.

“Psst.”

She looked up from the ledger in puzzlement. Had somepony been trying to get her attention just now? She scanned the study carefully from left to right; bookshelf, bookshelf, potted plant, door, bookshelf, painting, chair, window. No, she was definitely alone in the room. She shook her head and turned her attention back to her notes.

Stop procrastinating, silly filly. You have to get used to doing this. Big Mac won’t be able to take care of it for you all the time. She paused again. It was not a subject she had broached with her brother yet, but now that he and Cheerilee were getting serious, perhaps she should—

“Psst!”

Applejack looked up sharply. This time she was sure she had heard something. She was about to call Apple Bloom and ask her if she was playing tricks, but Apple Bloom was having a sleepover at Scootaloo’s with her friends. It could not be Granny Smith either; she was at bingo night with the other seniors in the town hall. Applejack glanced over her shoulder. Maybe a draft from the window?

She trotted over to the window, idly wondering if she should perhaps get some tools to tighten any of the hinges. The window, however, was closed tight, and even though she moved her hoof up and down the length of it, Applejack could not feel even the faintest rush of wind seeping through from any cracks. Feeling almost a little disappointed, she turned back to her desk and very nearly cried out as she came face to face with a smiling Pinkie Pie.

“Hiya, cousin!” Pinkie said brightly, bouncing lightly in place. “Sorry I didn’t knock first. I didn’t want to startle you. Wow, you’ve got a lot of books in here! It’s like a mini-library!” Her gaze wandered from the bookshelves to the painting hanging on the wall. “Oooh, that’s pretty… I really like that skyline! And the trees! And the itty-bitty birdies on the branches!”

“P-Pinkie?” Applejack spluttered, doing her best to slow down her still-galloping heart. “What are you—I don’t mean to be rude, sugarcube, but what are you doin’ here?”

Pinkie looked at Applejack with a puzzled expression for a moment, before lighting up in another smile. “Oh! I’m here to ask a favour, if you don’t mind! Now, I know what you’re thinking: ‘Gee, Pinkie, isn’t this a bit of a silly time to be doing that?’ Or maybe you’re thinking: ‘Gee, Pinkie, what’s so important that it can’t wait until tomorrow?’ Or maybe: ‘Gee, Pinkie, why do you have a paper plane stuck in your mane?’ That one’s actually a funny story! You see, Pound and Pumpkin were—”

Applejack placed a hoof gently but firmly on Pinkie’s shoulder to stop her before she could derail her own conversation even further. “Whoa now, Pinkie. I’ll be happy to help ya if I can, but would ya mind startin’ from the beginnin’?”

Pinkie sat down on her rump and wrung her hooves for a moment, biting her lower lip. When she spoke, it was at a slower and more careful level; it might even have sounded normal coming from another pony. “Well… I got the idea of inviting my family—the Pie part of my family, that is—to come visit me in Ponyville. It’s been years since I’ve seen them, and even though I’ve asked them to come plenty of times, they haven’t shown up yet.” Pinkie tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Actually, I haven’t seen them since I left home when I was still itty-bitty Pinkie.”

Applejack felt her eyebrows climb involuntarily. “But that’s, what, more than ten years ago, innit? Ya haven’t seen them even once since then?”

Pinkie shook her head and her ears drooped for a moment. “Not really, no. We kind of didn’t part in the best way…” She perked up again, her earlier gloom disappearing like dew in the sun. “So anyway, I wrote them a letter asking them to come here, because I’d really like to see them again and be on good terms and for them to meet you and Twilight and Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy and Rarity, and guess what?” Pinkie’s face lit in a radiant smile. “They finally said yes! And then I thought that it’d be super cool if they could visit Sweet Apple Acres, because Mom and Dad live on a farm too, you see, and I think they’d love to meet the Apple part of the family and see how you run things here, but then I thought it’d be super rude of me if I didn’t ask you if it was okay first before telling them they can come see your farm, so…” Pinkie finally stopped for breath. “That’s what I’m here to ask you about.”

Applejack digested this verbal mouthful as quickly as she could. “So… uhm, do ya want me to give ’em a tour of the farm? ’Cause I can do that easily enough.”

Pinkie’s eyes widened to saucer-like dimensions. “Really? You don’t mind?”

Applejack shook her head and smiled, giving Pinkie a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Now why would I mind havin’ family come visit? It’ll also be fun gettin’ to meet others who can appreciate good farm labour. Just let me know when it is an’ I’ll give ’em the full tour.”

Pinkie’s forelegs enveloped Applejack in a crushing bear hug, very nearly squeezing her lungs empty of air. “Oh thankyouthankyouthankyou! They’re going to love it, I just know it! Yay!” She let go and instead bounced in an excited circle around Applejack, who was on the floor trying to recover from the vice-like grip.

Applejack let out a half chuckle, half cough and rubbed her chest, making sure her ribs really were just sore and not actually broken. “It’s no biggie, sugarcube. Gettin’ to know family is always nice, but if helps you an’ your kin mend fences, I’m all for it. Besides, I’ve shown groups bigger than two ponies ’round the property before, ya know.”

“Five, actually,” Pinkie corrected her with a beaming smile. “Limestone and Marble are gonna come too, and Limey’s bringing a coltfriend along as well! Can you believe it? I didn’t know Limey had a coltfriend! How exciting is that?!”

“And Limestone and Marble are…?” Applejack prompted after a moment.

“Oh! They’re my sisters! Which makes them your cousins! Limestone’s my little sister, and Marble’s my even littler sister!”

Applejack shrugged lightly. “Well, the more the merrier. Just let me know in advance when they’ll be comin’ over so I can make sure I don’t have a lot of work to do that day.”

“I will. Thanks so much, Applejack!” Pinkie gave Applejack another hug, this one gentle enough that Applejack could actually return the gesture. “I’ve gotta go ask Twilight if they can visit the library too, but I’ll let you know as soon as I know!”

“I think the library’s a public place, sugarcube,” Applejack said with a wry smile as Pinkie hopped towards the door. The other pony stopped for a moment to consider this.

“Maybe… but Twilight also lives there. Does that make it a public home? Hmm… I think I better ask her anyway. You know how much Twilight likes her silly schedules and checklists. You’d think a pony as smarty-party as her would just remember it all in her head!” Pinkie let out a giggling snort. “Smarty-party! That’s a funny word! Maybe it’s the kind of parties that book-ponies like to have?”

Applejack shook her head with a half-smile as Pinkie disappeared out the door. It took her about thirty seconds to realize that all the doors in and out of the farmhouse had been locked prior to Pinkie’s appearance, and it took another minute or two to confirm that they were, in fact, still locked, even though Pinkie was well and truly gone. Applejack resolved not to think too hard about it; Pinkie was, after all, Pinkie, and she still had a book full of numbers upstairs just itching to keep her brain busy.

She stopped by the kitchen to put over a kettle of water for some tar-black coffee. So, she’s got younger sisters, huh? she thought, idly tapping a hoof against the kitchen counter as she waited for the water to boil. Wonder if they ever worry about the same things I do. Maybe I just keep fretting over small things. Making mountains out of molehills and all that.

She forced the distracting thoughts from her head and placed the coffee pot along with a cup on a wooden tray, balancing it deftly on her back as she headed upstairs again. No more procrastination; she would finish that ledger tonight.

“So hey, AJ, I was thinking…” Rainbow Dash said, resting on her stomach on a small low-hanging cloud. The occasional lazy flap of her wings was all she needed to drift along and keep up with Applejack, who was hard at work below her.

The farmpony delivered a swift and firm buck to the trunk of the nearest tree, sending a little shower of ripe apples into the baskets placed strategically around it. “Should I be worried?” she asked, a little smirk playing on her lips.

It was still early in the morning, and the sun had only recently crawled up on the horizon. On the days where Rainbow was not at the Wonderbolt Academy, she usually slept until she had weather patrol duty, and then took forty winks afterwards before she truly became active, which was usually around midday. Rainbow had showed up some ten minutes ago and had thus far just made idle smalltalk. That she was here likely meant that the pegasus actually did have something important to say. Still, no reason not to wind her up a little first.

“I was thinking,” Dash repeated, unfazed, snatching an apple from one of the crown of one of the unbucked trees, “maybe we should open up the Iron Pony competition for others as well this year.”

Applejack trotted over to the next tree, clearing it of its fruit with another kick. A quick glance around with an experienced eye told her that no other apples in this end of the orchard were yet ready to be harvested. “Yeah? What makes ya think so, then?”

Dash finished her snack and flicked the stripped core nonchalantly over the edge of her cloud bed. “Just thought it might be fun to get others in on it. I mean, don’t get me wrong, kicking your butt in over half of those contests was great and all”—Applejack pointedly refused to comment on that—“but it might be fun to see what others can pull off, too. I know the guys and gals from my Academy class would be psyched to join.”

Applejack considered this for a bit, rubbing her chin with a hoof. She glanced up at her pegasus friend with a sly grin. “You sure it ain’t just ’cause yer afraid of goin’ up against me on even terms, RD?”

“What?! No way!” Rainbow yelled, jumping to her hooves on the cloud and flaring her wings, looking highly indignant. “I’ll take you on with both wings tied and one hoof behind my back, if that’s how you want it!”

Applejack let out a little chuckle and nudged her Stetson hat back a little. Riling up her competitive friend was one of her guilty pleasures, but only because she knew Rainbow could take it and readily took every opportunity to return the favour.

“Simmer down, sugarcube, I’m just pullin’ yer tail,” she said, holding up a placating hoof. “Fact of the matter is, I think it’s a great idea. There were some mighty fine athletes at the Running of the Leaves. Could be fun goin’ up against one of them.”

Rainbow furled her wings again and sat down on the cloud, looking at least somewhat mollified. “That’s what I said,” she huffed.

“I reckon we gotta change the rules a little, though,” Applejack mused, chewing lightly on the inside of her left cheek. “Maybe make separate entries for earth ponies, pegasi an’ unicorns.”

Rainbow Dash tilted her head a bit, furrowing her brow. “Huh? Why? What’s the point of that?”

Applejack resisted the urge to roll her eyes; she would never call Rainbow a stupid pony, nor did she think her friend was one, but sometimes the pegasus sure was a bit slow on the uptake.

“I don’t know ’bout you, but somepony might get a bit peeved if a unicorn were to use her magic to make the horseshoe hit the ringer every time, or, say, a pegasus were to use her wings to get a lil’ extra distance in the long jump contest.”

Rainbow had the good grace to look duly chastised. “Okay, fine, separate contests, whatever. But then I want the pegasus competitions to give us a chance to show off some sweet moves in the air.”

Applejack nodded thoughtfully. “Sure. We could have contests tailor-made for each race. Probably better that way, actually. I was just thinkin’ we forbade horns and wings from bein’ used, but that might mean you prissy pegasi and unicorns would fall behind when it came to endurance competitions.”

“Hey!”

“All I’m sayin’ is that it would be kinda hard to make contests where one race or the other wouldn’t be at a disadvantage if all were lumped together.”

“I still came up with the idea first,” Rainbow sulked.

“Sure ya did, sugarcube,” Applejack said with a little grin, unable to keep herself from prodding the proverbial winged bear a little further. “I just made it better.”

Rainbow let out a little snort and pouted. “Making new contests and putting all this stuff together is gonna take forever, though.”

Applejack chuckled. “Well, then it’s a good thing we know one pony who thinks organizin’ stuff is just about the best thing since apple fritters. We should probably see if we can’t drum up some support from Mayor Mare, too.”

A grin spread across Rainbow Dash’s face and she flared her wings. “Race you to the library!”

Applejack returned the grin with one of her own, adjusting her hat so that it was firmly in place. “Get down here on the ground with me an’ I’ll show ya how a real athlete runs.”

She cast one last look around the orchard as Rainbow dropped down next to her, double-checking to make sure she had not missed any trees that were ready for bucking. She still had to carry the baskets back to the barn, but that could wait a while. Satisfied that there was nothing stopping her from being able to leave in good conscience, she turned to her friend and nodded.

“On the count of three, then. One… two… three!”

Rainbow took off the very moment Applejack finished the count, galloping as hard and fast as her legs could carry her, wings pressed firmly against her sides. Applejack ran after her, opting not to burn her energy by trying to pull ahead of the pegasus until the final leg of the race. Pressuring Rainbow at this stage would just result in her continuously trying to push ahead again and again to the point where one or both of them would collapse from exertion. Instead, Applejack began counting again, this time in her head.

She reached nine before Rainbow glanced back at her and flashed a grin. “What’s the matter, cowgirl? Getting tired already?”

Applejack just smiled back good-naturedly. It had been two whole seconds more than she had anticipated before the quip. Rainbow was improving. “Well, I wasn’t the one lyin’ on mah backside all mornin’.”

Rainbow just laughed, slowing her pace slightly to something closer to a brisk canter while still keeping ahead of Applejack by a good distance, evidently confident in her victory. Around them, the leaves had taken on the golden-brown hue of autumn. A chilly wind buffeted the two ponies as they ran, carrying with it a few brown leaves that had already fallen from the trees.

Most ponies, including Applejack, knew that the Running of the Leaves event was not strictly necessary for the trees to shed their leaves; eventually they would fall off on their own due to wind and weather, but it would take longer. The Running of the Leaves helped ensure that the trees were ready to endure the cold of the winter months, and that they would make it to the warmth of spring strong and healthy. It was tradition, and Applejack liked traditions; they represented stability and reliability, something that had endured generations before Applejack had been born and which could continue to endure long after her time as well. That was not to say traditions could never adapt or change, but they would retain an essence at their core that was the same through it all.

Applejack enjoyed the rhythm that routine brought into her life. Each daily chore around the farm was a little tradition all on its own, from the immutable requirements that the nature of tending to apple trees necessitated to the multitude of little tasks that Applejack and her family had developed to make management of the farm more efficient. The sum of all these parts was that of something greater, something timeless, something that transcended the running of a single farm in Equestria; by doing all these things, Applejack was taking part in a craft that had been practiced since the dawn of ponykind, something as old as her race itself. The thought made her feel an almost serene calm.

Sweet Apple Acres would continue to endure as well; it had only grown stronger since Granny Smith’s family had established it, and it would continue to grow and thrive under the care of the Apple family, even when Applejack herself might not be there to—

Something stabbed at her chest, not hard and cruel, but tiny pinpricks that hurt nonetheless. For a fleeting moment, Applejack thought she had somehow managed to exhaust herself despite the measured pace of her running. Then she felt something deeper, a feeling of melancholia tugging at her heart.

The strange feeling almost overwhelmed her for a moment. She faltered in her steps, which was probably what caused the slightly aggravated yell of “Come on, slowpoke! I thought we were racing here!” to come from the pegasus ahead of her. Applejack swallowed and shook her head, running to catch up with Rainbow, doing her best to shove her thoughts aside. She knew why she had felt what she did, and it aggravated her.

You’re being foalish, missy. Look at you; you should be happy for him, but all you can do is be a worry-wart about the future! Applejack suppressed a sigh. You shouldn’t be so selfish about this. They’ll need their space, sure, but Mac getting married doesn’t mean you’re losing a brother; you’re gaining a sister. Heck, odds are you won’t even have to move. Sweet Apple Acres is plenty big to house a whole family, and then some.

She resolved to talk to her Mac when he got home. It would be best to clear the air between them. She would never be able to look at herself in the mirror if she was not honest with her brother.

Fortunately, Rainbow did not seem to have noticed that anything was amiss, being too focused on the race now that Applejack had caught up with her again. Applejack did not particularly relish the idea of dumping her personal problems on others, but she also knew herself well enough to recognize that she would be unable to deny anything if asked directly.

Think of something else. Mac and Cheerilee aren’t gonna be home for another two days; no use fretting over maybes and what ifs just yet. Think about the Iron Pony competition. What contests should be included?

She deftly leapt straight over a small stream rather than using the bridge crossing it. The barrel weave is a given. You’ve gotta be both fast and agile to do well at that. The hay bale toss is a good strength contest, and horseshoes is about precision. She began picking up speed as the first rooftops came into view over the crest of the hill they were ascending. Rainbow had not noticed her yet. I wonder if we should have the bucking contest again? That might be giving me an unfair advantage, though. Hmh… Better let Twi decide on that one.

She came up side by side with Rainbow before the other mare realized the change of pace. Just as Applejack had predicted, the pegasus immediately started pulling ahead again. Applejack put her thoughts on hold and focused solely on the race.

A frantic dash for the finish line began as they neared Golden Oak Library, their combined hoofbeats kicking up a cloud of dust behind them. Houses whipped past them in a blur as they thundered up Ponyville’s main street. The other early bird residents wisely gave them a wide berth, a few of them cheering. Applejack barely heard them, pushing herself to the limit. The great tree which served as both library and dwelling for Ponyville’s sole librarian slash newly minted royalty was less than a hundred metres away. Fifty metres away. Twenty and closing fast. Too fast.

The door to the library shook and protested on its hinges as the two overly competitive mares collided with it at charging speed. Rainbow groaned and clutched her head with which she had inadvertently tried to ram the door. Most of Applejack’s right side and her right shoulder in particular hurt something fierce for the same reason, though she had at least managed to avert her head.

“Call it a draw?” Applejack asked, wincing as she tried to push herself onto her hooves.

“Yeah…” Rainbow mumbled from her position on the ground.

The door to the library-tree opened after a moment. Spike looked at the two with an expression that was probably less surprised than it ought to have been at finding a pair of battered mares on the doorstep.

“Can I… help you?” he asked, puzzled. He glanced at Rainbow who was still rocking back and forth on her rump, letting out little hissing noises whenever she touched the rapidly-forming swelling on her forehead. “Maybe an ice pack before that bump gets any worse?”

The pegasus gave the tiniest of affirmative nods. “Do you mind?”

Spike disappeared back into the library, returning after a short while with a bag of ice cubes. Rainbow gratefully took the bag and slapped it against her forehead, keeping it in place with a hoof. The diminutive dragon turned his attention to Applejack.

“So, uh, is there something you need? I take it you’re not here to borrow books?”

“Who says we ain’t?” Applejack replied with a little grin as she stood up somewhat painfully. “Maybe I’m here to borrow A Concise History of Equestria, or some fancy new cookbook.”

“Right,” Spike agreed, turning about halfway before stopping. “Uh, are you here to borrow either of those?”

Applejack chuckled and shook her head. “Naw, just messin’ with ya, big guy. Not today, anyhow. Don’t suppose Twi is around, is she?”

Spike nodded and beckoned them to follow. “She’s upstairs in her room. I think she’s still sleeping. She went on this big reading binge last night. Again.”

Now that Applejack was inside the library, she could see that many of the bookshelves had gaping holes in their rows where books had been removed. Some of them barely had half their books remaining. Applejack let out a low whistle.

“What’s the occasion? Nothin’ serious, is it?”

The dragon shook his head. “Nah, I’d have told you if it was. She’s just getting herself worked up with this whole princess thing. Politics, etiquette, that kind of stuff,” he said with a little huff, crossing his arms.

“That still sounds pretty bonkers to me,” Rainbow muttered.

Applejack glanced at the little custodian’s sour face for a moment. “She took one of the books you were readin’, didn’t she?”

Spike scowled at her, though she could tell his resentment was not directed at her. “Dragon Diplomacy. I was just starting on it, too.”

She chuckled and gave him a reassuring smile. “We’ll see if we can’t liberate it from her. Though maybe we should come back later if she’s still sleeping.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I was about to wake her anyway when you two showed up. She’s supposed to be meeting Mayor Mare at ten. Go on up and I’ll get some breakfast going for her.”

Applejack nodded and turned to Rainbow with a grin. “Come on, RD, let’s go wake up little Miss Princess.”

Applejack pushed the door open and peeked into the dark bedroom. The curtains were drawn shut over the windows, leaving the light seeping in from the open doorway as the only source of illumination. She glanced around at the veritable fortress of books cluttering up the room, obscuring what other furniture there might be except for a table upon which stood a tray with a half-eaten meal.

The room’s occupant was currently snoring on the bed, lying flat on her stomach, legs and wings sprawled on the linen. An open book rested on top of her head, leaving only a purple muzzle sticking out from beneath the bottom.

“Sheesh, look at that mess,” Rainbow hissed.

“Well, the room could use a bit of tidyin’ up, that’s for sure,” Applejack agreed.

“Not that! Her wings! Look at them!”

It took Applejack a moment to realize what it was the pegasus meant, but looking more closely, it became apparent to her just how ruffled and disheveled Twilight’s wings looked compared to Rainbow’s or Fluttershy’s. A number of loose feathers lay strewn about the bed as well. As she moved closer, Applejack could read the title of the book resting on Twilight’s face: Preening for Dummies. It looked like the poor filly was having difficulties adjusting to having an extra pair of appendages.

If Spike had not told her that Twilight had a meeting later, Applejack would have been tempted to let the exhausted alicorn sleep. As it was, she cleared her throat. “Twi?” There was no response.

“Twilight?” she repeated, a little louder.

Rainbow trotted over to the bed and shook Twilight’s shoulder. “Hey, Twilight! Get your flank in gear! Nap time is over!” she barked, small droplets of condensed water from the ice pack running down her forehead.

“Save it, RD. If our rammin’ of the door didn’t stir her, we’re gonna need some harsher methods.” Applejack knew of one way to get Twilight’s attention that worked supremely well, at least when she was awake. Odds were it might even affect her sleep too. She gave the nearest book a little nudge to let it slide from its stack. Unfortunately, she had not accounted for just how wobbly the pile was. At least the collapse of the entire book tower had the intended effect.

Twilight jumped to her hooves with a yelp as the books fell to the floor, staring around wildly for a moment before her eyes settled on Rainbow, Applejack and the toppled stack of books.

“Mornin’, Yer Majesty,” Applejack said with a sheepish grin. She felt a little bad for knocking over all those books, but short of firing Pinkie’s party cannon next to Twilight’s ear, she could not think of another way to have awakened the alicorn. “Yer humble subjects, Applejack and Rainbow Dash, ask for an audience with ya.”

Twilight let out a little groan and rubbed sleep from her eyes. “Not now, Applejack. It’s far too early for the whole ‘princess’ thing.”

Applejack nodded guiltily. She and Rainbow had been teasing Twilight since her coronation whenever the opportunity presented itself. Twilight had embraced it with a laugh, but there were evidently limits.

“Sorry, Twi, but Spike told us ya had a meetin’ to get to later. With Mayor Mare.”

Twilight suppressed a yawn with a hoof. “Oh, right. I had almost forgotten that…” Without looking, she began to stack the fallen books again, the soft shimmer of her magic casting the dimly lit room in a purple glow.

“What’s with all the books?” Rainbow asked, indicating the cramped room with a sweeping hoof. Applejack noticed that Twilight was not just stacking the books; she was sorting them alphabetically.

“Preparation.” Twilight pulled an alarm clock from beneath a paperback on her nightstand, checking the time. “I have to be ready for when Celestia or Luna sends word that they can begin instructing me in… whatever it is they expect me to do.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “They haven’t told ya yet?”

“That’s the thing!” Twilight cried out, looking at her with tired eyes and frazzled mane. “Celestia just said that she would contact me ‘soon’! I’m going stir-crazy just waiting and trying to guess what I might get tested in!”

Applejack let out an inward sigh. Twilight had a unique knack for overcomplicating everything, whether it was warranted or not. “So yer response is to just read everythin’?”

“Well, what else can I do?” Twilight said with an exasperated expression.

“Spike said ya went ahead an’ took a book he was readin’ about dragons.”

The alicorn’s cheeks turned a faint shade of red. “Well… What if a delegation of dragons should suddenly show up and Celestia expected me to deal with them?” She looked from Applejack to Rainbow, but the pegasus’ nonplussed expression mirrored that on Applejack’s face. “I was going to give it back to him as soon as I finished reading! I was!” she continued defensively.

“You know, you could have asked me or Fluttershy to show you how to preen yourself. I think we’re just a little bit better at teaching you that than some book is,” Rainbow said with a hint of what Applejack assumed was indignation in her voice.

Twilight blinked, her mouth opening and closing without words for a moment. “Oh… right. I, uh, hadn’t actually thought about that…”

Sheesh, she really needs to take her mind off this. Rarity would probably send her to the spa, but I bet she’d still be thinking about stuff there. Applejack walked up to Twilight and gently put a hoof on her shoulder. “Twi… how’d ya like somethin’ to do that ain’t about bein’ princessy at all?”

Twilight’s head whirled around to look at Applejack with an intense, hopeful stare. “Yes! What do you need me to do? A thesis? Algebra? Mapping the stars again? Give me something, anything!”

“How about organizing this year’s Iron Pony competition so that anypony who likes can attend?” Rainbow asked. “Applejack and I were gonna do it ourselves, but we figured it might be more fun for an egghead like you.”

Twilight’s weary face lit up in a bright smile, completely unperturbed by the egghead monicker. It had long since ceased to be mocking and had turned into more of an affectionate nickname. “You had me at ‘organizing.’”

Like a kitten with a ball of yarn, Applejack thought with a little chuckle. “Even so, maybe we oughta tell ya a lil’ more ’bout what we were thinkin’ of…”

2: Taking a load off

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Applejack closed the door to the library behind her, chewing on a wholewheat toast with melted cheesy goodness, courtesy of Spike. Twilight had eagerly embraced the proposed task, promising to get started as soon as her meeting with Mayor Mare was done. She had even predicted she could have a draft for the whole thing ready by the evening.

Applejack had tried to assure Twilight that there was no rush, but knowing how caught up the studious mare tended to get in her work, she would probably not only have a draft, but have it printed in three copies, with detailed graphs and figures to go with it. Before leaving to head back to work in the orchard, Applejack had assured Twilight that she would come by later. Rainbow had remained behind to give Twilight a crash course in preening before her meeting so that she, in Rainbow’s words, “wouldn’t look like a lightning-zapped crow.”

We oughta slap some posters up around town to let others know about the competition, Applejack thought as she munched on the delicious warm snack. Or ask Pinkie to spread the word. That’d be just as effective.

Pinkie herself would probably want to do the announcing again, as would Spike. Applejack doubted that either Rarity or Fluttershy would want to participate in the actual contests, but perhaps they could keep track of the score. Fluttershy had done a good job at that last time. No doubt Rarity would design some extravagant outfit for the occasion, though.

She had the sudden unbidden image in her mind of Rarity and Fluttershy dressed up in outrageously colourful and voluminous cheerleader outfits, complete with pom-poms, and she very nearly choked on a mouthful of toast as involuntary laughter wracked her stomach, drawing a worried glance from Roseluck in her flower booth. Applejack gave her a cheerful wave after finally swallowing to let her know that everything was fine.

We’ll probably have to use the area next to the eastern orchard again. Plenty of open and flat space there. Applejack flicked her tongue over her teeth and softly chewed the inside of her cheek. It’s gonna take a lot of work to get everything set up, though. Best make sure there’s nothing urgent left to be done around the farm. Maybe get that window pane in the barn fixed up while I’m at it…

“Applejack! Sis! Look!”

Applejack paused and looked over her shoulder past the small cart full of apple baskets that she was dragging, to see her little sister zooming towards her, beaming like a little sun. Apple Bloom’s slightly tattered Crusader cape billowed behind her, fluttering like wings. She was riding a scooter similar to the one Scootaloo often sped around on, except this one was bright red, and she was wearing a matching crash helmet on her head. While she appeared to be somewhat wobbly on the scooter, she more than made up for this in sheer enthusiasm.

“Well, I’ll be, lil’ sis! That’s a mighty fine ride ya got there,” Applejack said with a smile as Apple Bloom pulled to a screeching, not entirely elegant stop next to her. She shrugged out of the cart’s harness and looked at the scooter closely. It certainly looked to be of high quality, with polished metal and a fresh layer of paint.

The filly grinned from ear to ear. “I know, right? Scootaloo’s dad gave it to me! He made it himself! Sweetie Belle got one too! Isn’t it cool?”

“It sure is. He just gave ‘em to ya? Well, that’s mighty kind of him!”

Apple Bloom nodded vehemently in agreement. “Yeah, he’s super nice! He’s a mechanic, so he can build lots of technical doohickeys! He’s got his own workshop an’ everythin’!”

“That so? Well, maybe I should ask him to fix the cart next time it breaks down.” Applejack grinned, then gave her sister a more serious look. “You be careful on that scooter, though, ya hear? Keep that helmet on.”

Apple Bloom gave her an offended look. “I ain’t no idiot, Applejack! I know how to do this!”

Applejack held up a placating hoof. “I ain’t sayin’ that, AB. I’m just sayin’ you and the other gals sometimes get a bit caught up in the whole crusadin’ thing.”

“Sheesh, you’re startin’ to sound like Rarity.” Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. “I said I know how to do this.”

Applejack fought the urge to do the same. Sometimes, arguing with Apple Bloom was like… Well, I suppose it’s how the girls have it at times when they have to argue with me. She opted for a different approach instead. “All right, just don’t expect me to get ya down from a tree when ya end up catapultin’ yerself into one,” she said with an indifferent shrug.

Apple Bloom laughed and swiped a hoof ineffectually in the general direction of her sister. “Come on, sis, we both know you’d be the first one there. With a ladder, too.”

Applejack cursed own predictability, but she could not even pretend to argue; of course she would be there the moment her sister needed help, no matter what. To do anything else was unthinkable.

“Aw shucks, you’re right, AB, but that ain’t an excuse for you to go an’ get in trouble, ya hear?” Applejack said.

Perhaps Apple Bloom sensed the earnest concern in her voice, or maybe she just wanted to get on with things. Either way, she nodded with a surprisingly sober expression. “I hear ya, sis. I’ll be careful, don’t worry.”

Applejack smiled and pulled her sister into a hug, which Apple Bloom happily returned. “Glad to hear it.” She let go after a moment and gave her sister a little grin. “Now, you wanna help me haul this cart over to the barn and get the apples into the storage?”

Apple Bloom nodded eagerly. “Sure! Just let me park my scooter an’ I’ll come help!”

Stowing away the harvest took until the better part of midday, at which time she and Apple Bloom went back to the farmhouse for lunch together with Granny Smith. After finishing up, Apple Bloom headed off to meet with Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, promising to be back in time for dinner. Applejack busied herself for the rest of the afternoon with various tasks around the farm, from rearranging barrels in the cider cellar to giving Winona some much-appreciated playtime, though the window pane in the barn remained unrepaired due to the lack of glass in the proper size.

Later in the evening, once the last cup had been put back in its place on the kitchen shelf, Applejack ran through a mental checklist in her head. Dinner had been eaten, the dishes had been cleaned, Granny Smith had dozed off for a nap, and Apple Bloom was busy with homework in preparation for the resumption of school on Monday. Satisfied, Applejack trotted out the front door and set a course for Ponyville to check up on Twilight like she promised.

It was well and truly dark by now, the sun having sunk beneath the horizon close to an hour ago. A chill wind brushed against Applejack’s fur as she trotted along the road leading out of Sweet Apple Acres. She had briefly considered taking the timeworn oil lantern hanging by the doorway to the farmhouse with her, but had decided against it; she knew the road to and from Ponyville well enough that she could walk it in the dark. Bringing the lantern would have burned fuel, and Applejack did not like wasting resources when it was not strictly necessary.

A very fine drizzle began to fall from the gloomy clouds overhead, and Applejack pulled her Stetson a little more firmly over her head as fallen leaves rustled past her hooves, carried along by the wind. The weather team had really outdone themselves in creating a weather for the evening that just screamed autumn. Rainbow had assured her that it would still be another two weeks at least before the temperature at night might drop below freezing, but Applejack still almost wished she had brought her raincoat with its warm lining.

Come on now, missy, are you an earth pony or not? Tough it out! A bit of chill never hurt anypony, least of all you!

Applejack upped her pace to a light canter and started to whistle a tune. It was light and cheerful, one of those she liked to play on her fiddle when she was alone and had free time. Though she occasionally brought the instrument out on festive occasions, she mostly preferred to play it when she was on her own; then she could simply play as her whimsy decreed, rather than having to play to the mood of a crowd. She did not consider herself to be exceptionally gifted or talented, but she liked what she was able to produce well enough, and in the end, that was what really mattered, was it not?

She stepped into the light of the first lamp post leading to Ponyville as she crossed the bridge of the stream she had leapt across the same morning. The lantern creaked on its hinge as it rocked gently back and forth in the wind. Past its brothers, light seeped through the closed shutters and drawn curtains in the windows of the outlying houses. Trotting up the empty street, it was apparent that most of Ponyville’s residents had retired for the night.

Applejack could hear muted laughter and conversation behind closed doors, and particularly raucous mirth as she passed the local tavern. No blinds were drawn over the windows here; light, warm and inviting, streamed from the windows, along with music and the smell of delicious, greasy, pan-fried food. She was sorely tempted to stop by once she had visited Twilight, perhaps have a mug of cider or a little snack before heading home.

She shook her head to clear it of the beguiling light from the tavern and headed towards the library instead; she had work to do tomorrow and other things to take care of right now. The rain—light and fine though it might be—was starting to soak her fur, and she looked forward to getting indoors. She knocked on the door and was greeted by Twilight after a few moments. The other mare looked much better now; the fatigue was gone from her face, and her wings seemed to be in pristine condition to Applejack’s untrained eye, with scarcely a feather out of place.

“Oh, hello, Applejack! Please, come in.”

“Thanks, Twi,” Applejack replied, wiping her hooves on the doormat before stepping inside. Twilight’s expression became one of fretful concern when she noticed Applejack’s wet coat.

“Oh dear, I’m sorry, I didn’t think the weather would be this bad when I asked you to come. Hang on, I’ll get you a towel.” Before Applejack could protest and assure her that it was no problem, Twilight dashed off towards her bedroom, returning moments later with a large purple towel.

Applejack took the proffered cloth with equal parts resignation and gratitude and quickly dried off the worst of the rain. Still with a somewhat guilty look, Twilight hung the towel on a rack and scuffed a hoof at the floor.

“So, got some good ideas for the competition?” Applejack asked in a cheerful tone to try and lift the alicorn’s spirits again. “I’m keen to hear yer take on it.”

Twilight’s lips broke into a smile, probably relieved that she could move into familiar territory. “Oh, lots of ideas! It was a lot of fun thinking up how best to make it fair for everypony. Shall we go upstairs, or do you want me to bring my notes down here?”

“Let’s go on up. I’m guessin’ there are a lot of papers?” Applejack gave her friend a wry smile as she followed Twilight up the stairs.

“Well… a few, yes,” Twilight replied, nodding.

“Charts and diagrams, too?”

“Oh yes. Everything is better with diagrams.”

Twilight’s room was still crowded, but the stacks of books seemed to have diminished somewhat, and those that remained had been moved off to one end of the room in a way that suggested they were not needed for a while. Instead, the writing desk was cluttered with papers full of notes and sketches, all of which Applejack could immediately see would tell her absolutely nothing without some sort of context.

“So,” Twilight said, turning to face Applejack with the smile of someone about to present a cherished piece of work, “I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, but I think I’ve been able to boil it down to some fairly simple and easy ideas. What we’ll do is that we’ll have twenty or so different contests just like last time, where ponies compete against each other one on one. Ponies sign up in pairs with whoever they want to compete with, and then they go through each of the contests together. The alternative would have been to assign pairs randomly, but that might result in some unfair match-ups. This way, ponies who sign up will face off against somepony they feel comfortable with, so that should also make for more intense competition.”

Applejack nodded thoughtfully. “Makes sense,” she agreed. Having someone like Rainbow go up against a comparatively weaker athlete would be something of a lopsided battle.

“I concur with your suggestion of dividing competitors by race, too. I think it makes it more fair, but it also makes it easier to organize. The same contests can still be used for all pairs; after all, a strength contest is not unfair to one side as long as they’re both unicorns, and so on. Rainbow and I had some trouble agreeing on whether or not wings should factor into contests or not, though. She wanted to have contests where, hrm, ‘awesomeness’ could factor into victory. I told her that contests had to be possible to be objectively won in order for it to be fair. Relying on impressing the scorekeepers the most wouldn’t really be feasible.”

“And?” Applejack prompted, already guessing the answer.

“Well, she agreed eventually, but she wasn’t happy about it,” Twilight said, to Applejack’s mild surprise. “Wings are allowed for some contests, like the long jump contest, where competing pegasi may use their wings to glide—but not fly—extra distance.”

“What about magic?”

“I thought about that. The Iron Pony competition is about physical prowess, right?”

Applejack nodded in affirmation.

“Right,” Twilight continued. “I don’t think magic is compatible with that, and since magic can be used to render most of the challenge in a lot of the contests void, I feel it is best if magic is banned from the competition entirely.”

“Seems fair,” Applejack agreed.

“Different races can still sign up together if they want, of course. It wouldn’t do to forbid two friends from competing just because one has wings and the other doesn’t, but they just have to agree that one of them may have an advantage in certain contests.”

“Were ya thinkin’ of havin’ some kind of elimination system? Or are all pairs basically fightin’ in their own little tournament?”

Twilight rubbed the back of her neck, looking a bit lost for a moment. “Well, uh, I hadn’t really planned on that kind of system, no. I just thought each pair could face off, have fun, maybe settle some kind of grudge match, if that’s what they want. It’s really all just about having a good time… isn’t it?” She looked at Applejack uncertainly.

Applejack smiled and patted Twilight reassuringly on the shoulder. “If ya ask me, yeah, it’s all in good fun. Rainbow might want somethin’ more to determine some kinda overall winner, but her ego don’t really need more boostin’.” She shook her head, feeling bad already for saying that. “Aw shucks, I shouldn’t be talkin’ ‘bout her like that. She’s come a long ways since then.”

Twilight just nodded, apparently opting not to comment on it. “For the contests, I thought we could just reuse the ones from last time. There was a good mix of disciplines and tests of skills there.”

“Even the buckin’ contest?” Applejack asked after a moment.

Twilight let out a soft laugh. “Applejack, nopony is going to think it’s unfair just because you’re good at it. Who knows,” she said, looking at Applejack with a twinkle of mirth in her eye, “maybe you’ll find that somepony else in Ponyville is even better than you at kicking things really hard.”

Applejack grinned sheepishly and shrugged in a manner she hoped was nonchalant. Excessive pride was not exactly a virtue by Applejack’s standards, but at times she was as guilty of it as the next pony.

“Ah, well, ya never know. Anyhoo,” she said quickly, “we oughta start lettin’ other ponies know if we’re gonna get this thing done before the Runnin’ of the Leaves. Don’t suppose you—”

Twilight levitated a poster from her desk and showed it to Applejack with a triumphant grin. It read:

THE IRON PONY COMPETITION

Do you fancy yourself an athlete?
Do you like to compete?
Do you have a friend you want to challenge?
Then sign up for the Iron Pony Competition!

Contestants will fight each other in a series of challenging physical events.
Sign up as a pair to enter the competition. In the spirit of fairness, it is recommended that ponies of the same race compete against each other, but anypony can sign up with whoever they want to challenge.

If you do not wish to enter the contest, but still want to spectate, then simply show up, have a seat, and cheer and root for your favourite contestants!

The location will be

From then on, the rest of the poster was blank, with a fair chunk in the bottom half still waiting to be filled.

“Looks great, Twi!” Applejack said appreciatively and smiled.

“Obviously this is just a rough draft, but do you think something along these lines is what we should aim for?” Twilight asked, turning the poster to look at it herself.

Applejack nodded. “Sure, that should work nicely. Maybe let Rarity have a gander at it, too. That girl’s got a flair for the bombastic. She could probably add somethin’ to it, too.”

“Good idea. I talked with Mayor Mare about this as well when I was meeting with her. She was happy to let us use the town’s equipment to set everything up, as long as nothing gets damaged too severely. She was quite insistent on that last part.”

“Well, that’s mighty kind of her! Don’t suppose she’s plannin’ on competin’ herself?”

Twilight laughed. “Hardly, but she did say she was going to be among the spectators. She told me that she enjoyed watching last year’s competition tremendously. Anyway, if I run the poster by Rarity tomorrow morning, we could probably start distributing copies around noon. I already talked to Ink Blot over at Ponyville Weekly for permission to use the printing press for a short while.”

Applejack let out a low whistle. “Seems like you’ve really been taking care of things, Twi.”

The alicorn smiled proudly. “I’m very good at organizing.”

“You sure are.” Applejack grinned at her friend; it was too tempting not to prod her just a little. “Maybe you got it wrong, Twi. Maybe yer special talent ain’t magic; it’s bein’ a secretary.”

She narrowly dodged the first pillow thrown at her, but the next two flopped against her face with fearsome feathery force. She held up her front hooves to shield herself. “All right, I give up! It’s magic!” she cried out between fits of laughter.

Twilight nodded with a satisfied smile and lowered the particularly large and fluffy purple pillow she had been readying in a magical grip. “That’s better.”

Applejack picked herself up from the floor brushing a few downs off her shoulders. “Anyway, I just wanna say thanks, Twi. That’s an amazin’ effort you put into this on such short notice. We’ll have this off the ground in no time.”

“It’s my pleasure, really,” Twilight said with a smile. “I’ll stay among the spectators until the Running of the Leaves, though.”

“Sure, Twi. Ain’t nopony forcin’ you to participate. Maybe you could join Pinkie an’ Spike as a commentator?”

Twilight shook her head and grinned. “I think they’ve got that well in hoof. The moment Spike heard that there was going to be another Iron Pony competition, he rushed off to find Pinkie and hatch plans on how to best do the announcing.”

Applejack smiled at the thought of Pinkie and Spike huddled over a strategic map, plotting optimal positions to be heard from and possibly the construction of a humongous megaphone.

“Any idea who you’ll be challenging?” Twilight asked.

Applejack chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment. She had not really thought all that much about it. “I dunno. Maybe Rainbow, but half the reason we wanted to open the event up was to be able to go up against some new faces. Hmm… Caramel? Bon-Bon?” She shrugged lightly. “Shucks, I dunno, really. I’ll figure it out soon enough.”

Twilight nodded, holding a hoof to her mouth and putting up a valiant effort to try and suppress her yawn. “Oh, I’m sorry. I think my sleeping rhythm is still a little off…” she said, giving Applejack an apologetic look.

Applejack gave the alicorn a comradely hug around the shoulders with a foreleg. “Don’t worry about it, Twi. I oughta head back home soon, anyhow. Tomorrow’s still got its share of chores to do. You have a good night now.”

“You too, Applejack,” Twilight said, returning the gesture. “I promise I’ll get the poster done first thing once I get up,” she called after Applejack as the latter headed down the stairs and towards the front door.

“Don’t sweat it, sugarcube. Just do it whenever ya feel like it,” she called back before stepping outside and closing the door behind her.

The light downpour continued in much the same way as when Applejack had arrived, though the wind seemed to have picked up. The more sensible part of her mind told her that it only felt that way because she had just come out from a warm place, but the tavern looked more inviting than ever as she approached it. She stopped near the entrance, wrestling with indecision.

On one hoof, it was getting late, and if she was going to get up at her usual time to get to work on her chores, she really should more or less be heading to bed within the hour. On the other hoof, it was not like there was all that much for her to do tomorrow; most of the late-season apples still had not ripened, and the only non-harvest chores she could think of could not take more than a few hours at most to do.

So what? Chores are chores. Doesn’t matter if it’s replacing a single roof tile or bucking an entire orchard, you do them right either way. Granny didn’t raise a sloth.

Just as she put one hoof in front of the other to walk on home, a familiar voice called out over the wind: “Oi! Evening, Applejack! What’re you doing out so late?”

Applejack looked over to her right where Berry Punch came trotting towards her from one of the side streets. The earth pony mare seemed unfazed by the rough weather, smiling in a friendly manner as she approached.

“Hey, Berry,” Applejack greeted in return with a tip of her hat. “I’m just on mah way back home from Twilight’s. Yerself?”

“Roseluck needed a hoof getting home. Filly knows how to drink, but for an earth pony, she’s awfully bad at actually holding her liquor,” Berry replied with a little shrug. “She’s gonna wake up with a herd of buffalo stampeding through her head tomorrow.”

Applejack winced slightly in sympathy. “That bad, huh?”

“She’s a lightweight, and she doesn’t really realise how much she drinks when she’s chatting. And the more she drinks, the more she chats.” Berry let out a little sigh. “It’s a shame. She’s very entertaining when she’s tipsy.” She lit up in another smile after a moment. “But hey, what about you? Care to join me for a drink?”

“Nawh, I really can’t,” Applejack replied with a shake of her head. “Gotta get up bright’n’early tomorrow. Well, early, anyway.”

Berry scoffed lightly. “Come on, one drink never hurt anypony. Besides, when was the last time you just kicked back and relaxed, anyway?”

“I can relax in between chores…” Applejack protested, but Berry had already put a hoof around her shoulder and was steering her towards the door of the inn.

“Yeah, well, if you ain’t gonna do it for yourself, do it for me. I’ve still got wine left to finish, and I’d feel like a sot if I sat in there drinking all by myself this late.”

Applejack sighed good-naturedly. “All right, fine, one drink,” she relented, doing her best to quash the nagging feeling that she was being neglectful. Better add one more chore to the list tomorrow to make up for this, she thought.

The inside of the tavern was as warm and pleasant as its siren song had promised. The bar was on the right from the entrance, with its long counter for serving drinks and food. A large mirror hung on the wall behind the counter along with shelves of various colourful beverages, set in a manner likely intended to evoke the atmosphere of a frontier saloon, similar to the one in Appaloosa. The rest of the interior looked more like what Applejack considered a ‘normal’ tavern, all big planks of unpolished oak and whitewashed walls of roughly hewn stone. The fireplace crackled, flames dancing merrily in the hearth and spreading warmth throughout the well-insulated tavern.

Music, in a cheerful, upbeat tempo, rattled from the jukebox—probably the most advanced piece of technology in the tavern—which stood near the stairs leading to the bedrooms on the first floor. A pair of stallions, one unicorn and one pegasus, was busy playing a game of pool at the table in one corner. Other ponies, mostly in twos or threes, sat at various tables, chatting, laughing, drinking, some with plates of fried food from the kitchen behind the bar. Applejack spotted Lyra, Bon-Bon, Minuette and Carrot Top at one table, with Lyra entertaining the other mares with some story or another. Applejack could not make it the details, but judging from their equal parts shocked and incredulous expressions and bouts of uncontrollable laughter, it was probably one of Lyra’s more scandalous tales.

Berry guided Applejack to the bar where a lone, half-finished glass of wine stood on the counter. Berry climbed onto one of the stools and took the glass, motioning for Applejack to sit next to her.

As Berry tapped the chimer on the counter, Applejack settled onto the other stool and glanced around again. It was rare that she stopped by the tavern except in the company of others and when the occasion was festive. She tended to start feeling guilty if she sat around too long in a place like this doing nothing productive. Darn workaholic self-chastisement.

“So how are things around Sweet Apple Acres?” Berry asked, turning her head towards Applejack. “For all the stuff you say you have to do tomorrow, I can’t imagine there’s that much to do around this time.”

“Well, things are pretty slow around the farm right now,” Applejack admitted. “Still, Pinkie asked me if her family can come visit, so I wanna make sure everything’s in tip-top shape.”

Berry nodded in understanding. “I hear you. Personally, I’m all done in the vineyard for now. Frees up a lot of time to just relax.”

Berry ran a small vineyard just outside Ponyville. Even though it was only a fraction of the size of Sweet Apple Acres, Berry was able to harvest enough grapes from it and produce enough wine from those to not only cover all the expenses of her and her daughter, but to make a tidy profit on top of it. Applejack had heard that some of the most prestigious restaurants in Canterlot practically fought over the limited number of wine bottles Berry produced every year. Where other vintners would need decades to produce their best wines, Berry could produce wine of equal or surpassing quality in two or three years. Applejack had no idea how the mare did it, but then again, she had always assumed Berry’s cutie mark, a bunch of grapes, was there for a reason.

Even with her success, however, Berry had never showed much interest in expanding her production beyond the small vineyard she tended with her daughter. She even kept a good deal of her produce for herself rather than selling it, even though she could likely have made twice as many bits from the sale. Applejack had once asked Berry about it, and she had replied that she was not a vintner because she wanted to be rich, but because she enjoyed the very process of making wine, from watching the grapes sprout to corking the finished product. Applejack had always found that very admirable.

The other mare glanced towards a half-open door on the other side of the counter and sighed a bit. “Mug’s gotta be out back in the kitchen. Darned spawn of a walrus probably can’t hear us over his blasted frying pan…” She leaned over the counter. “Hey, Muggy! Get your fat butt in here! You’ve got thirsty customers!” she yelled at the door leading out to the back, smacking the little chimer on the counter for good measure.

“Oi, ’old yer ruddy gob, Berry!” a deep voice shouted back from the other side of the door. After a moment, it was pushed open and the tavern’s owner stepped through. Chugging Mug was a fairly stout stallion with a beige coat, a reddish mane and a cutie mark of a heavily slanted wooden mug. He wore a grease-stained apron and had an open, jovial expression on his face. Applejack was fairly certain his picture would appear if one was to look up the word ‘barkeep’ in an illustrated dictionary.

His heavy-set face lit up in a smile on seeing Applejack. “Well, hey there, Applejack. Long time no see. What’s yer poison?”

Applejack gave him a little wave. “Just somethin’ light. Cider’d be great, if ya got any.”

“Aye, one cider comin’ up.” The barkeep grabbed a mug from one of the shelves and headed over to the tap. He had an odd sort of accent, more urban than what one would normally find in Ponyville or even Canterlot, though Applejack could never tell if it was his real accent or just an affected one. She had heard it slip a couple of times.

She passed a pair of bits over the counter in return for the beverage proffered by Chugging.

“A’ight, Berry?” he asked, looking at the other mare. “Need a refill?”

“Just top me off, then that’ll do me for tonight,” Berry replied. The barkeep fished a bottle of wine from beneath the counter and emptied it into Berry’s glass.

“Give us a shout if ya need anythin’ else, right? I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“How’s yer kid doin’, then?” Applejack asked Berry as Chugging headed out the back again. She took a draught of her cider, letting the deliciously cool liquid wash around in her mouth for a moment before swallowing.

“She’s doing great. I’m letting her make a batch of wine all on her own this year,” Berry said with a fond smile. “She’s taking to it like a duck to water.”

Applejack chuckled. “She’ll be givin’ you stiff competition in no time at all, no doubt.”

“If she keeps going at this rate, she will.” Berry took a sip of her wine, letting out a relishing sigh. “How are things with your brother and Cheerilee? Still going strong?”

“Stronger than ever, I’d say. They’re off in Baltimare to visit Cheerilee’s old folks. The only thing I wonder is which of ‘em is gonna propose first.”

“If I were a gambling mare, I’d place my bits on Cheerilee,” Berry said with a wry smile. “No offence to your brother.”

Applejack waved a hoof dismissively. “None taken. You’re probably right, too; you wouldn’t believe it by lookin’ at him, but that big lummox can be more timid than Fluttershy at times.”

Berry shrugged lightly and took another sip. Behind them, the table with the four mares broke into uproarious laughter again as Minuette told the others a particularly raunchy joke. “Well, you never know, maybe some of Cheerilee’s gregariousness is gonna rub off him.”

“Stranger things have happened,” Applejack conceded.

“M-hm,” Berry replied. “So, Pinkie’s family, eh? How’d it turn out again with you two? Were you related or not?”

“Couldn’t get a straight answer from any records, but as far as I’m concerned, she’s Apple through and through,” Applejack said firmly. The bumpy road trip she, her family and Pinkie had gone on had erased any doubts in her mind regarding that.

“So that’d make her parents your… aunt and uncle?”

“A distant branch of it, yeah, but family nonetheless,” Applejack confirmed.

Berry nodded. “Right. Genealogy was never my strong side.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while, each sipping their respective drinks and occasionally looking over at the pool table to keep track of the unfolding game. The unicorn was winning.

Berry finished her glass of wine and glanced up at the clock above the mirror. “Well, guess I should head on home. Mini-Berry’s supposed to come back from Aura’s in some twenty minutes. Thanks for keeping me company.” She tapped the chimer on the counter again, summoning Chugging Mug from the kitchen. He was chewing on something vaguely resembling a sandwich, pan-fried and greasy.

“Yeah?” he grunted in between munching.

“I assumed you’d want payment for that cheap hooch you tried to pawn off on me, Muggy,” Berry said with a saccharine smile.

“Sure thing, luv. You’re ‘alf the reason I can afford to keep this place stocked up. Lessee…” He chowed down the rest of his sandwich and grabbed a notepad from one of the shelf. “So that’s one bottle o’ pinot noir, plus that leftover from last time… Yep, thirty-five bits seems about right.”

Berry counted out the bits and passed them to the barkeep. “Here you go. And you know, one day you’re going to choke on those lumps of grease you eat.”

“Not today, though,” Chugging said cheerfully as he pocketed the bits in his apron. “You take care now, Berry.”

“You too, Muggy.” Berry slipped off her stool and nodded at Applejack. “Have a nice evening, Applejack. Say hi to your family from me, will you?”

Applejack nodded. “Will do, Berry. You do the same.”

Berry headed for the door without as much as an unsteady sway in her hooves. After she had left, Applejack turned to Chugging. “How much did ya say she’d had, again?”

“’Bout a bottle an’ a quarter. Bit more than usual for ’er. Normally she doesn’t have leftovers,” he replied, picking up Berry’s glass and cleaning it.

Applejack shook her head and took another sip. Even for an earth pony, Berry had an incredible physiology. She reminded herself once again never to challenge the vintner to a drinking contest. She suspected Berry’s liver was made of iron or something similar.

She stuck around to follow the pool game to its conclusion while finishing up her cider. The pegasus stallion eventually won after a fairly impressive comeback, much to the chagrin of his friend. Applejack placed her empty mug on the counter, bade Chugging a good night and headed for the door to make the trek back home.

3: Festivals and sibling troubles

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Applejack awoke to the sensation of a weight pressing down on her chest. She forced a bleary eye open to see Winona sleeping peacefully on top of her.

“C’mon, girl, you know you can’t sleep in mah bed,” Applejack said with half-hearted sternness. The farmdog raised her head at the sound of her owner’s voice and her face broke into an open-mouthed, tongue-lolling smile

“Arf!” Winona declared happily and gave Applejack’s face a lick, before jumping off the bed and fetching a well-worn rubber ball—one of her favourite toys—which had inexplicably wound up beneath Applejack’s bed. She looked up at her owner expectantly, her tail wagging excitedly, until Applejack finally relented and threw the rubber ball down the stairs into the living room, with Winona in hot pursuit.

Fumbling for her hairbands on the nightstand, Applejack tied up her mane and tail in her preferred manner, stealing a glance at the alarm clock as she did. It was almost a quarter past eight. She furrowed her brow a bit and mentally chided herself; she had really slept in this morning. She took her hat from its place on the coat rack on the wall, making a small detour to knock on the door to Apple Bloom’s room down the hallway.

“Mornin’, Bloom. Gonna go make breakfast now. Come down soon unless ya want it cold,” she called. A grumbled, sleepy reply from the other side of the door confirmed that her sister was at least awake, if only barely. Satisfied, she headed downstairs to the kitchen, passing Winona on the way, who was busy rolling back and forth on the floor while chewing on the rubber ball.

A short while later, after a bit of work in the kitchen, Applejack sat at the table, enjoying a small stack of pancakes with a healthy dollop of maple syrup as well as a cup of coffee. A tray of toast, cheese, oatmeal and more pancakes stood on the middle of the table for general use, along with glasses and a beaker of apple juice. Apple Bloom came downstairs not long after, no doubt drawn by the enticing scent of food.

“Heya, sis. You told Granny we’re havin’ breakfast yet?” Applejack asked as her sister petted Winona on the way to the table. The farmdog had been given her own breakfast and was happily—and noisily—wolfing down the contents of her food bowl.

“Ayup,” the filly confirmed, sounding a great deal more awake now than she had back in her room. “She said she’d be down in a bit, an’ that she’d like the peppermint tea this mornin’.” She sat down at the table and helped herself to some toast and pancakes.

“Peppermint tea, got it.” Applejack drained her cup of coffee before heading back into the kitchen. She filled a kettle with rainwater from a bucket that had been placed outdoors overnight—Granny Smith preferred it to tap water nowadays—and placed it on the stove. Granny’s considerable trove of tea was contained in an ornate carved wooden lockbox that the Apple siblings had gotten her for her 80th birthday. Applejack took the container from its place atop one of the kitchen cupboards and browsed through it for the peppermint tea, noting as she did which types were running low and would need restocking next time she came by the Ponyville market.

Flicking through the various packs, she spotted one particular brand: ‘Ki tea’, it was called. Applejack had bought a box of it when she and the girls had gone to Manehatten to support Rarity during a fashion contest. Applejack had been walking around the harbour, looking at the great ships docked there, when she had spotted a stall selling tea. The merchant had insisted that the name of the tea brand was pronounced ‘chi’, and he had told her in great detail how it was the name for the vitality and life energy that the herb drew from the earth into its leaves during growth in its native soil, far to the east and across the ocean.

Applejack had not really understood how that differed from any other plant growing in soil back home, but before she could ask, she had been forced to move on as Pinkie had insisted they all went to visit a nearby theme park. When Applejack had later tried the tea for herself, she had discovered that it did make her feel curiously invigourated, much more so than any other kind of tea she had tried.

Wonder what else there is to see out there? she thought idly. She briefly envisioned herself as a crewmember aboard one of the ships sailing the trade routes to distant, exotic shores, then shook the notion from her head. Cute. Why not make yourself a pirate captain while you’re at it?

Granny Smith made her way downstairs just as the water began to boil. Applejack poured the peppermint tea for the elderly mare while her sister prepared a bowl of porridge.

“Mornin’, Granny!” Apple Bloom said cheerfully, placing the bowl at Granny Smith’s habitual spot at the table.

Applejack pulled back the stool a bit so that their grandmother could take a seat and gave her a slightly concerned look. “Did ya have a good night’s sleep?”

“Oh, you two are such darlin’ pumpkins. An’ I slept jus’ fine, Applejack, thanks fer askin’. Mah hip’s doin’ much better now with that fancy new medication,” Granny Smith said, giving them a kind, gummy smile, having not yet put in her teeth for the morning.

“Well, that’s mighty good news,” Applejack said with a relieved smile, returning to her seat. “I’ll be sure to thank Dr. Stable when I see him.”

“Big Macintosh’s comin’ home today, ain’t he?” Granny Smith asked, taking a sip of the steaming cup balanced between her hooves.

“Tomorrow, Granny,” Applejack gently corrected her. “He’s comin’ home tomorrow, around noon.”

“Oh, of course, silly me. I must’ve lost track o’ the days.” The elderly mare shook her head in mild self-admonishment. “Sometimes I’m afraid I’d lose track o’ mah own tail iffen it weren’t stuck to mah rump.”

Apple Bloom reached out and stroked Granny Smith’s foreleg with a hoof. “It’s okay, Granny. We miss him too.” She looked over at Applejack. “You think he’ll remember to bring back a souvenir?”

Applejack smirked as she refilled her coffee cup and took some toast with cheese. “I’m just hopin’ Cheerilee’s been keepin’ him on enough of a leash so’s to keep him from buyin’ every little doohickey that’s caught his eye. Don’t you worry ‘bout that, sis.”

Granny Smith smiled fondly. “Ah, lil’ Miss Cheerilee; she’s such a nice young filly. So polite and helpful. I sure hope he asks fer her parents’ consent while he’s there.”

“Consent for what?” Apple Bloom asked.

Applejack held up her hooves and chuckled. “Whoah now, Granny. They just went to meet them an’ get introduced—”

“Consent for what?” Apple Bloom repeated, looking from one to the other insistently. “For Cheerilee to come to dinner again? Because he so should ask for that! It was super fun last time she came around!”

“Well, coming ‘round more often for dinner would be one thing, for sure…” Applejack said with a little smile.

“One thing? What else would it be?” Apple Bloom asked with a slightly puzzled expression, then clamped both hooves to her mouth, her eyes widening in hopeful excitement. “Ohmygosh! Is he gonna ask her to be his special special somepony? Are they gonna get… married?!”

Applejack leaned over and placed a calming hoof on Apple Bloom’s shoulder before the filly could launch from her seat out of sheer glee. “How ‘bout we wait for ‘em to get back home an’ tell us what’s what before we go ringin’ any bells, all right?”

“Okay, yeah, I guess we should,” Apple Bloom agreed, settling down for a moment before bounding out of her seat and jumping around in little circles. “Wheeheehee! Mah big brother and Cheerilee! I knew we were right about it! This is gonna be the bestest thing ever!”

Applejack clucked her tongue and shook her head a bit in resignation. “Just don’t go tellin’ everypony anythin’ until they actually get back. Like I said, we don’t know for sure what they have and have not talked about with Cheerilee’s folks in Baltimare. Don’t be spreadin’ rumours. Not even to Sweetie Belle an’ Scootaloo.”

Apple Bloom paused her revelling mid-jump and gave Applejack an affronted look. “What? Why can’t I tell Sweets and Scoots? They’re mah best friends! We tell each other everythin’!”

Applejack stood up and gave her sister a stern look. “Just be a good sister and do like I says, Apple Bloom.”

The little filly returned the look with a resentful glare of equal strength. “Fine! I won’t tell ‘em, but I’m still gonna go see ‘em now. Or am I not allowed to do that either?”

Applejack did her best not to sigh in exasperation. “Apple Bloom, don’t be like that…” she began, but the filly had already stomped up the stairs to get her things from her room. She winced a bit as the bedroom door slammed shut with petulant force. A few moments later, Apple Bloom came back down the stairs like a dark cloud, her Crusader-emblazoned saddlebag slung over her haunches.

“Apple Bloom,” Applejack called again, but the filly ignored her and left the house without another backward glance, slamming the door shut behind her. Winona let out a low, mournful whine. On most days, Applejack would have gone after her sister and tried to talk her down until she relented, but every now and then, she would just let the hotheaded filly go off until she cooled down on her own. Right now was one such moment.

She sat down and drained the last of her coffee. After a few moments, the sensation of a pair of disapproving eyes looking at her became too much to ignore and she looked over at her grandmother.

“Don’t ya think you were a lil’ bit too hard on yer sister there, young’un?” the elderly mare asked.

“You know I wasn’t, Granny,” Applejack replied with a little sigh. “They don’t mean bad, but those three fillies are always goin’ around tellin’ everypony everythin’ when they get excited, an’ Mac might not appreciate that. You remember that time with the school newspaper?”

The barb went out of Granny Smith’s gaze. “Apple Bloom’s learned her lesson since then,” she said in a softer tone.

“Maybe so,” Applejack replied. “Still, if Mac and Cheerilee came back without any plans for anythin’, it’d be awfully awkward for ‘em if everypony was makin’ assumptions. I don’t want to muck things up for Mac.”

Granny Smith let out a weary sigh. “I know, pumpkin, I know. I jus’ don’t like seein’ y’all fightin’, is all. Just promise yer ol’ granny that the two of you make up, would ya? Apple Bloom is jus’ happy fer yer brother.”

“I’ll try, Granny.”

Silence descended over the breakfast table for a bit. Applejack poured herself another cup of coffee, plopping a single lump of sugar into it. She watched the cube sink and quickly disappear beneath the black surface. She stirred the coffee with a spoon until she could no longer find the sugar cube with it.

She heard Granny slurp her tea for a moment before the elderly mare asked: “You sure are quiet, young’un. What’s on yer mind?”

“Just wonderin’ if Mac’s havin’ fun in Baltimare.” Applejack idly watched as the stirring of her spoon caused the surface of the coffee to ripple and swirl. It was a whirlpool at sea one moment, then became a turbulent sky the next. “I bet there’s a lot of stuff for a farmpony like him to see.”

“I’m sure he’ll have a bunch o’ photos to show when he gets back,” Granny said. There was the scraping noise of wood against wood, and Applejack looked over to see Granny Smith slowly stand up.

The elderly mare rolled her shoulders a bit, which produced an almost disturbing number of cracking and popping noises. “Well, I guess I better go have a look at mah flowers in the backyard. You oughta finish up yer breakfast too. Didn’t ya hafta help yer friends with the posters for that fancy rodeo thingy yer plannin’?”

“It ain’t a rodeo, Granny,” Applejack explained patiently. “It’s the Iron Pony competition, like the one we held last year. Rodeo’s just one of the contests in it.”

“Po-tay-tow, potato,” Granny Smith grunted with a dismissive wave of her hoof. “Call it what ya like. I knows yer gonna win it, anyway.”

Applejack smiled, feeling somewhat embarrassed by the unconditional confidence, but also no small measure of pride. “Thanks, Granny.”

A few moments later, Applejack heard the door to the backyard close, and she sat alone with her coffee. There was a soft patter of paws against wooden floor, and she felt something warm against her thigh. She looked down to see Winona’s head resting on her leg. The dog was looking back up at Applejack with soulful eyes, her tail hanging listlessly.

Applejack gave the dog a little smile and scratched her behind the ear. “Don’t worry, girl. AB will be fine again soon.”

Winona wagged her tail tentatively in response.

“How about you come with me and help put up some posters, eh? Would you like that?”

“Arf!” Winona replied happily.

Applejack let out a chuckle. “Well, then let’s just get this table cleaned and we’ll be off.”

“So, Rarity, you plannin’ on competin’?” Applejack asked her friend with a wry smile as Rarity plucked another poster from the former’s saddlebags with her magic.

“Heavens, no,” the unicorn replied, levitating the poster to the noticeboard in front of them. “Though I shall definitely be watching with glee as you make an absolute mess of your coat and mane with mud and dirt. Again.”

Applejack pressed her hooves against the poster to keep it in place while Rarity lifted four nails in her magical grip to the corners of the poster, tapping them with dainty little swings of a hammer until they were—eventually—in place. Winona sat a few feet behind Applejack, watching the two bickering mares attentively.

“I’ll be sure to see if I can’t splash a bit of muck in yer general direction.”

“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest thing?”

Getting the poster copied at the printing press had taken a while longer than anticipated, but once all the ink from their ill-fated first attempt had been cleaned up, the rest of the process had been a cinch. Applejack, Rarity, Twilight and Fluttershy had then split up to distribute the copies across Ponyville. Rainbow Dash had been too busy with the rest of the weather team fending off a bout of wild weather from the Everfree Forest to help out, and Pinkie had gone to see Mayor Mare regarding a ‘big surprise,’ which had left Twilight smiling rather smugly and the other three feeling rather puzzled.

At around the time Applejack, Rarity and Winona passed the town hall for the third time, they heard Pinkie’s voice calling out brightly:

“Applejack! Rarity!”

They both stopped and turned to see Pinkie come bounding down the steps of the town hall with excited leaps.

“Hello, Pinkie. You seem exceptionally cheerful today,” Rarity remarked.

Pinkie beamed as she skidded to a halt next to them. “I know, right? It’s because Mayor Mare has put me in charge of Operation: Iron Pony Entertainment!”

Rarity and Applejack glanced between them and back at Pinkie, who was bouncing up and down on the spot like a jackhammer.

“What’s Operation: Iron Pony Entertainment?” Applejack asked when it became clear that Pinkie was awaiting a prompt.

“I’m glad you asked, my good Applejack,” Pinkie said, ceasing her bouncing in an instant. She cleared her throat and puffed her chest solemnly. “Mayor Mare has decided to let me host—” she burst into gleeful jumping again “—a whole festival centered around the Iron Pony competition!”

“Goodness, a festival?” Rarity asked, holding a hoof to her chest. “I know you said you wanted to host a party, but… a whole festival?”

Pinkie let out an excited squee. “I know! Isn’t it super? Mayor Mare told me that since the Iron Pony competition would be so big this year, we could also make a big event around it that would be sure to draw everypony in and keep them entertained! She told me: ‘Pinkie, you’re the right pony for this job,’ and then she gave me this huge sack of bits and asked me to be frugal, which I don’t know what she meant by, but she also said she has complete faith in me and trusts me to do ‘the right thing’! I can’t wait to get started! There’s gonna be balloons and candy floss and maybe even a roller coaster! Oh, I’m so excited!”

“That sounds mighty nice, Pinkie,” Applejack said sincerely. “Havin’ a place to kick back after a bunch of hard contests will probably make everypony happy. Maybe you should consider teamin’ up with Twilight for it, though.”

“Oh, I’m going to! She’s the one that suggested it to Mayor Mare in the first place! I’m no good at number-crunching, but Twilight can do that stuff in her sleep!” Pinkie let out a giggle. “Why is it called number-crunching, anyway? It’s not like you eat the numbers like they’re candy. Oh! That’d make for a fun addition! A booth that goes: ‘Be a number-cruncher!’ And the joke is that you eat candies shaped like numbers! Get it?”

“Well, I am definitely keen to see what the two of you can come up with,” Rarity said gently but firmly before Pinkie could go off on another tangent. “But perhaps we should focus on finishing putting up these posters first.”

“Oh! I’ll help!” Pinkie said brightly, smiling at Applejack. “I need to talk to you anyway, bestest cousin!”

“Sure, what’s on yer mind, Pinkie?” Applejack asked as Pinkie fell in (bouncing) step next to them.

“Well, I heard back from Mom and Dad, and they said they’ll be coming over in two days, around the evening. Can they still come visit then?” Pinkie replied with a hopeful smile.

“’Course they can, sugarcube. If ya want ’em to get the full tour, though, it’s probably best to do that the day after when it’s daylight. Though y’all will be welcome to dine with us.”

“Yay, you’re the best!” Once again, Applejack found herself enveloped in an almost uncomfortably tight hug by Pinkie, though she mercifully let go before Applejack could feel her bones protesting. However, Pinkie’s expression soon fell into a more sober one. “Do you think they’ll want to stick around for the Iron Pony competition? I’d like for them to see the festival…”

“Don’t you worry about that, darling. I’m sure they’d love to stay for that,” Rarity said confidently, giving Pinkie an encouraging smile.

The wan smile that ghosted across Pinkie’s lips in return, so unlike the ones she typically wore, was worrying for Applejack to see, almost as troubling as the slightly pained look in Pinkie’s eyes. “Yeah. I’m sure you’re right, Rares,” she replied. She put an impressive amount of confidence into her voice, a confidence that was decidedly lacking in her body language.

Applejack nudged Pinkie gently with her shoulder. “So tell us a bit more ’bout what yer plans are for the festival, Pinkie.”

“Oh!” Pinkie brightened up considerably. “I’ve got lots of ideas! So there’s this one involving marmots and a pot of coffee…”

Applejack shuffled a bit from hoof to hoof as she waited on the station platform. According to the large clock on the wall at the far end of the platform, it was twenty-seven minutes to one in the afternoon. She waited alone, the only other pony at the train station being a lone clerk sitting in his office near the entrance.

The rest of yesterday had been spent hanging posters and flyers around Ponyville. Afterwards, Pinkie and Twilight had moved to the library to plan out the festival, while Fluttershy and Rarity had gone off to Carousel Boutique. Meanwhile, Applejack, a slightly battered Rainbow Dash and a handful of volunteers from the weather patrol team had begun setting up benches and other items in preparation for the contests.

Applejack had eventually gone to find her sister once Dash had assured her that she could oversee the work for a while. Much as Applejack had suspected, she had found Apple Bloom at the clubhouse with Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo. It took a fair bit of talking, coaxing and cajoling, but the filly had eventually stopped glaring daggers at Applejack. She was content to settle with that for the time being.

The sound of a train horn brought her back to the present. Off in the distance, she could see the cloud of steam that heralded the train’s arrival. Before long, the train rolled into the station and came to a laborious halt at the platform, puffing and hissing. The tram doors clattered open and a couple of ponies stepped out of the train. The two particular ponies Applejack was looking for emerged from one of the rear cars.

Big Mac was lugging a heavy-looking backpack in addition to a pair of saddlebags that looked fit to burst at the seams, while Cheerilee was carrying a bag that also looked to be of considerable weight slung over her shoulders. Big Mac stepped onto the platform first, offering a hoof to help Cheerilee off the train in a gesture that was both gallant and somewhat clumsy because of the weight he was carrying. Cheerilee took his hoof with a smile, however.

As her hooves met the station platform, Big Mac leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on her cheek. Cheerilee turned her head and caught the stallion’s lips in a kiss that was anything but chaste.

Applejack suppressed the urge to wolf-whistle and did her best not to grin as she trotted over to greet them, doffing her hat as she came closer. “Howdy, you two. Did ya have a pleasant trip?”

The lovebirds turned at her approach, Cheerilee’s smile unfazed, Big Mac’s blush mostly hidden by his already red coat.

“Hello, Applejack!” Cheerilee replied brightly. “Yes, Baltimare was lovely, but it’s so nice to be back home again. I’ve missed all my little pupils.”

Nice recovery, Cheerie, Applejack thought, smirking internally. “Well, Apple Bloom’s been missin’ you too, I can tell you that much. I bet they’re all antsy to get back to school.”

The teacher let out a soft laugh full of mirth. “I should hope so! I’ve already got a whole slew of assignments lined up for them.” At Applejack’s slightly quizzical look, she added with a smile: “The fun kind of assignments, not the soul-crushing double-digit papers.”

“Right.” Applejack nodded. A sharp whistle rang out and the doors of the train clattered shut. After a moment, its engine kicked into life and the train lurched forward, rolling out of the station in a haze of steam. Once the noise had receded, she looked at her brother. “How ’bout you, Mac?”

To her surprise, Big Mac avoided her gaze, looking down at the tiles at his hooves and then glancing at Cheerilee. “Oh… uhm… Baltimare was nice, yup…”

Cheerilee saw his expression and put a hoof gently on his cheek. “Oh, sweetie, I already told you, it doesn’t matter what they think.”

The sinking feeling in Applejack’s stomach was only intensified by the crestfallen expression on her brother’s face. “I know, but… I’d just hoped that…”

“Mac…” Cheerilee slid her hoof from Big Mac’s cheek to under his chin, gently but firmly lifting it to raise his gaze from his own hooves to her eyes. “It changes nothing. I love you, and nopony is going to tell me otherwise,” she said in a voice that was at once full of tenderness and utterly unyielding.

A small smile finally crossed Big Mac’s face. “Thanks, shmoopy-doop,” he mumbled.

Cheerilee grinned and batted him lightly on the nose with her hoof. “Not in public, sugar bear.” She turned back to Applejack who was watching the two uncertainly, and the humour faded from her face.

“Well, let’s just say that the meeting with my parents didn’t quite go the way I’d hoped. As it turns out, they have their opinions, and I have mine. I’ll respect that, as should they.” Cheerilee’s eyes grew harder than diamond for a moment, and Applejack was silently grateful that she had not been present when that particular conversation had taken place. The fact that Cheerilee usually seemed almost as perpetually joyous as Pinkie only made the idea of her being truly angry all the more frightening.

Applejack simply nodded, unsure of what to say. Despite Cheerilee’s assurances, her brother still looked distraught, though he seemed to be putting on a brave face for Cheerilee’s sake. They stood in awkward silence for a few moments. All the other ponies had left the platform, leaving just the three of them.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to ruin the mood like this,” Cheerilee said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “I think I just need to get home and unpack, then relax with a good long shower. I hope you won’t mind?” she asked, looking at Applejack.

“No, not at all,” Applejack replied, shaking her head. “We’ll, uh… catch up later?”

“Yes, please,” Cheerilee said with a warm smile. She turned to Big Mac and nuzzled his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Right, sweetie?”

Applejack could almost see how her brother melted under the affection. “Eeeyup…” he mumbled with a nod.

Cheerilee smiled and kissed him tenderly on the lips. Then she hoisted up her shoulderbag and trotted out of the station at a brisk pace, heading for town and leaving Applejack and Big Mac alone on the platform.

Once Cheerilee was gone, the flimsy facade Big Mac had put on crumbled almost instantly and the crestfallen look returned to his face. Applejack walked over to him and nudged him softly with a shoulder so that the heavy pack he carried slid from his back onto hers. He did not even protest.

“Come on, big guy,” she said gently. “Let’s go home. You can tell me what happened on the way.”

The walk out of the train station and through Ponyville was spent in silence. Applejack waited patiently for Big Mac to speak, but her brother kept his eyes fixed on the ground in front of his hooves, a despondent look on his face. When they were about halfway along the road leading to Sweet Apple Acres, Applejack could no longer hold her tongue.

“Sooo… are you gonna tell me what happened?”

Big Mac looked at her listlessly. “I mucked it up, AJ,” he said quietly.

“Why don’t you start from the beginnin’?” Applejack asked gently. “It can’t have been that bad. I mean, Cheerilee still seemed the same.”

Big Mac let out a reluctant sigh. “We got to Baltimare just fine. Had a hotel booked for the first night. Spent the day just walkin’ about in the city sight-seein’ an’ such. We were supposed to have dinner with Cheerie’s parents the next evenin’.” He trailed off and became silent after that.

“Go on,” Applejack said encouragingly.

“I had a bad feelin’ the moment we stepped into their home,” he muttered glumly. “They’re real fancy ponies, Cheerie’s parents; her pa’s a professor at a university, an’ her ma’s a secretary at a law firm. Ain’t never felt so unwelcome in a place before. I got the ol’ stink-eye fer not wipin’ mah hooves on the doormat properly, even though there weren’t no speck o’ mud or nothin’ on ‘em.”

Applejack was reminded for a moment about Rarity in a way that was most unkind, though perhaps not entirely inaccurate. “Well, I’m sure it can’t have been all bad once they got to know ya.”

Big Mac grimaced a bit. “Cheerie tried her best to get ’em to open up an’ steer the conversation, but they kept needlin’ me with questions I didn’t know how to answer. An’ by the time we sat down to eat, well… things got real bad from there.”

Applejack had a pretty good feeling she knew what was coming next, but she waited for him to go on regardless.

“They had this real delicate cutlery an’ three different glasses, an’ Cheerie’s pa asked me to pour the wine. I didn’t know which one to use, so I just picked the biggest one, but he said: ‘No, sirree, that there’s for the main course, not the appetiser.’ I didn’t just feel like a fish outta the water; I felt like a fish tryin’ to climb a mountain.”

Big Mac kicked a pebble off the road with his front hoof and looked at Applejack with distress written across his broad face. “I tried mah best to make a good impression fer Cheerie’s sake, but I just kept makin’ a mess of it. It was awful, AJ; I could see how painful it was for her to sit an’ watch me screwin’ up again an’ again. The last straw came when Cheerie’s pa had me pick up the gravy bowl an’ pass it along. It was shaped like some kinda bird, an’ the handle was so small I couldn’t hold it properly with mah hooves. I dropped it on the table an’ spilled gravy all over, includin’ on her ma’s dress.”

Applejack winced a bit. The description had an uncomfortable echo of a similar event years ago back in Manehatten. “Aw, Mac…” she mumbled sympathetically.

Big Mac’s ears flopped down and his gaze drifted back down to the road in front of his hooves. “Cheerie’s parents both started shoutin’, sayin’ I was an oaf who didn’t deserve to have their daughter’s hoof in marriage, that I should’ve just stayed in the barn where I belong. Then Cheerie stood up an’ started yellin’ back, an’ it all just went seven kinds of bad from there. Cheerie’s pa said that if she didn’t leave me, she could forget about ever comin’ back.” He glanced over at Applejack. “Y’know what Cheerie did?”

Applejack shook her head silently.

“She stood up, took me by mah hoof, an’ we left. Just like that. She didn’t even look back once.”

“And that was it?” she asked. Her brother nodded.

“We went to stay at an ol’ friend of Cheerie’s. Spent the rest of the week just… doin’ things. Goin’ places. Havin’ fun.” A small, sad smile crossed his lips. “She did everythin’ she could to make me feel better an’ forget about that dinner. She said she didn’t care what her parents thought, and… Well, you heard for yerself what she said about it.”

Applejack sighed softly. “But you care about it, don’t ya?”

Big Mac gave her an agitated look. “AJ, I ruined things between her an’ her parents! I… I made a mess of everythin’!” He hung his head dejectedly. “Maybe I should let her go. I don’t want to wreck her relationship with her p—”

“Oh no, you are not doin’ this to yourself!” Applejack snarled and leapt in front of her brother, shoving a hoof at his muzzle. “You finish that sentence, an’ I swear I will kick ya in the head until that stupid idea plops right outta yer ears!”

Big Mac almost went cross-eyed from looking at the hoof pressed to his muzzle. “But—”

“Do you love Cheerilee?” she asked, looking directly into her brother’s eyes. He flinched a bit before the intensity of her gaze.

“I—”

“Do you love her?!”

“Yes!” he yelled back, and this time there was no hesitation in his voice. He met Applejack’s eyes and nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“An’ after all that’s happened, do ya think even for a second that she don’t love ya back?” she pressed.

He shook his head.

Applejack nodded, satisfied, and let her hoof drop back to the ground. “Then that’s all that matters, innit?”

“What do ya mean, AJ?” he asked tentatively.

“You love her. She loves you. There’s nothin’ else to it; it’s just that simple,” she said with all the finality and confidence she could muster. Because I am definitely the perfect pony to be giving romantic advice, what with my abundance of experience and all.

Big Mac was quiet for several moments before speaking. “But her parents—”

“—Didn’t like you, I get that,” Applejack said somewhat impatiently. “But Cheerilee obviously doesn’t care about their approval, so why should you? It’s you she wants, Mac; maybe that ain’t what her parents want, but it’s what she wants.”

Her brother nodded slowly, a genuine smile spreading across his lips for the first time.

“For what it’s worth,” she continued in a gentler tone, “we all think Cheerilee’s great for you. Never doubt that. But even that shouldn’t matter in this. All that’s important is that the two of you are happy. Y’hear me?”

“I hear ya, AJ,” Big Mac replied. Then he scooped his forelegs around her and pulled her into a tight embrace. “Thanks, sis,” he mumbled into her mane.

Applejack smiled and returned the hug, patting his neck lightly with a hoof. “Anytime, big brother.”

4: The road to Ponyville

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It was raining again.

Marble listened to the persistent drumming of raindrops falling on the canvas roof of the cart. It mingled with the squeaking of the left rear wheel and the creaking of the bench boards whenever she, her mother or her sister shifted in their seats. The entire cart lurched every time they came across a hole in the dirt-turned-mud road, which seemed to be every few seconds now.

Her mother and sister were just barely visible in the gloomy interior of the cart, but while it was dark, it was at least dry and relatively warm compared to being out in front of the cart. Her mane and coat was still wet from the last time it had been her and Blinkie out there, and the layer of drying mud caking her legs itched fiercely.

A hoof nudged her in the side. “Hey, sis, pass me a hardtack, would you?” Blinkie whispered.

Marble nodded and reached for the small lockbox beneath her seat. She opened the box and took out a pair of the dry biscuits before putting it back in its place. Blinkie gave her a hushed thanks as Marble gave her one of the hardtacks, which she acknowledged with a nod. They ate the crusty pastry as quietly as was possible with a food that was as suited for bludgeoning rocks as it was for eating; their mother was sleeping in the seat across from them, and neither wished to wake her up.

“This is gonna take awhile to get off,” Blinkie muttered as she finished her biscuit, scrubbing a few flecks of crusty mud from her fetlocks.

“Just think of it as wearing really fancy boots,” Marble whispered back with a little grin.

Blinkie bit her lip to stifle a laugh. “I don’t think my imagination is as lively as yours.”

They sat in silence for a while after that, listening to the sounds of the moving cart and the falling rain. They had been traveling for the better part of the day, and dusk had well and truly settled. There were no sounds of birds or other animals; they likely had the common sense to seek shelter rather than move about in this weather.

The cart ground to a halt, which meant one of two things: either they had arrived in Ponyville, which was unlikely, considering the view through the rear opening of the cart still showed the same open road they had been moving along for the past couple of hours, or—

“Girls! Shift!” their father shouted from the front of the cart.

Or that, Marble thought to herself as she and Blinkie both got up from their seats.

Within seconds of jumping out of the back of the cart, she was soaked again. The words ‘torrential downpour’ had never seemed more apt. Their father came around the cart, wearing his habitual expression of stoic indifference, even though his thoroughly drenched and floppy hat made it look as if a big black bird and fallen on top of his head and died. He was followed by Blinkie’s coltfriend Flint, who simply smiled brightly at the two sisters, as if the rough weather was nothing but a minor inconvenience.

The two pairs passed each other wordlessly, though Blinkie and Flint did brush particularly close together as they passed one another. Marble slipped the harness on with practiced ease, and Blinkie followed suit, giving her sister a smile of somewhat forced cheer.

“Well, let’s hop to it, shall we? I’d say to race you there, but, you know...” Blinkie gave a little shrug of her shoulders to indicate the ropes of the harness attached her to the cart behind them.

Marble smiled back, grateful for the attempt at humour, if nothing else; the morass of muddy road in front of them did not leave a whole lot to smile about.

They lapsed into silence again after that, both preferring to conserve their energy for pulling the cart. After about an hour’s worth of trudging through the rain and mud, the cheer had been well and truly sapped from Marble. From what their father had said, Ponyville was still another good four hours of travel away, and she dearly hoped the rear wheel would not pick this moment to break down. To top it off, the wind seemed to be picking up.

She turned her thoughts to their destination instead. How long has it been since you left, Pinkie? Nine years? Ten? What have you been doing all that time?

Pinkie, their sister who had shown them a glimpse of something more, something brighter than working the fields every single day.

Pinkie, their sister who had left for those brighter things, leaving Marble and Blinkie to work the fields every single day.

She loved her and she hated her, just a little.

“Do you think she’s missed us?” she asked her sister quietly, despite her earlier resolution not to talk.

Blinkie did not respond. Either she had not heard the question over the wind, or she simply chose not to reply.

Marble looked at her for a moment. Blinkie was becoming more and more like their older sister, defying their parents in small, yet significant ways. For close to two years, she had stubbornly refused to respond whenever she was being addressed by her birth name. It had resulted in endless arguments with their parents, instances of cold silence at the dinner table, and repeated groundings when her parents inevitably got fed up with Blinkie’s defiance.

Eventually, Marble had become something of an intermediary for most day-to-day matters. Their parents would tell her something addressed to ‘Limestone’, and she would have to relay it to ‘Blinkie’ standing right next to her.

Marble had always been the good filly who did what her parents told her with minimal fuss. Only once had she tried to do what Blinkie did and insisted on a different name, but the look her father had given her had made her resistance crumble almost instantly, and that had been the end of that.

It had actually been Flint who had finally caused some degree of thawing in the otherwise very frosty relationship between Blinkie and their parents. The young stallion had started showing up a couple of months back together with Mr Chipper, the aging quarry worker who brought fresh loads of transmutable rock to the farm on a fortnightly basis and who was the family’s sole link to the world beyond.

Blinkie and Flint had gotten off well almost immediately, chatting incessantly during offloading, to the point where Mr Chipper had once boxed Flint’s ears for slacking. Their parents had initially been vehemently opposed to Blinkie spending so much time with Flint, but after their father gave Flint a thorough interrogation—which Marble later learned from Blinkie had mostly amounted to “What are your intentions with my daughter?”—they had slowly warmed up to him, allowing him to come visit, inviting him for dinner…

Their father had even gone fishing with him once. Apparently the wish for grandfoals outweighed the dislike for their daughter’s antagonism.

Not very nice of you to think like that, Marb, her ingrained self-chastisement reminded her.

It did not make it less true, though.

The hours seemed to stretch on as the two sisters slowly pulled the cart along the road. Occasionally, a brown sodden leaf would fall from one of the tree branches reaching over the road and land with unerring precision on Marble’s forehead. Of all the days they could have gone to visit Pinkie, they had managed to pick the one where the pegasi had to use up all the excess rainwater.

That was what Marble assumed had to be the case, at least; in truth, she had very little knowledge about how pegasi and the weather interacted. The most she had seen of it was the odd glimpse of groups of pegasi pushing clouds across the sky, high above the rock fields, most often heading to neighbouring farms that were more reliant on fixed amounts of downpour for best crop yield.

“Hey, sis, do you see a light over there?” Blinkie asked suddenly.

It took Marble a moment to realise what her sister was talking about, but then she saw it too: a lamppost, shining—or so it seemed to her tired mind—like a lighthouse in the dark. The lights of more lampposts dotted the roadside further on, and Marble felt her heart make a small leap. It could only mean that they were finally nearing their destination.

In an unspoken agreement, they both picked up speed from the weary slog they had been moving at before to an eager trot, fresh energy rushing through them at the prospect of getting out of the rain. A weathered signpost illuminated by one of the lamps confirmed Marble in her assumption; only one mile remained until Ponyville.

As they came clear of the trees surrounding the road, more lights appeared in the distance, along with the outlines of houses, promising warmth and shelter. Along with that came a curious sensation of wonder; the furthest Marble had been from home had been one of the small nearby hamlets, numbering no more than ten houses, and even that had only been on the rare occasions that her father needed help carrying supplies. Even from this distance, Ponyville seemed to Marble to be less of a ‘ville’ and more of a full-fledged city. She was pretty sure she had even seen railway tracks leading in its direction at one point.

Pinkie had mentioned something else in the letter as well—Blinkie had snatched the letter so they could read it after their parents had gone to sleep—something about them having family in Ponyville, which was more than a little surprising. As far as Marble knew, the only other relatives they had were Granny and Nana Pie, and she knew for certain that neither of them lived here.

They had just passed a sign that said ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ when there was a loud crack and the entire wagon lurched sideways, accompanied by surprised yelps from its passengers. Marble’s hooves slipped on the treacherous road and she was treated to a faceful of mud as she fell flat on her stomach.

“What the heck is going on out there?” their father’s voice barked from the rear of the wagon, followed moments later by the stallion himself.

Marble scrambled back on her hooves, helped by Blinkie who seemed to have come out of the accident no worse for the wear. She spat out a few flecks of mud that had gotten into her mouth and shrugged out of the harness. Their father and Flint were already inspecting the back of the wagon, where one of the rear wheels had broken almost in half. A hole in the road with a sharp rock at the bottom seemed a likely culprit.

“Sun dangit to heck!” their father cursed in an uncharacteristic lack of restraint. He shot the sisters an accusatory look. “What did I tell you about watching out for bumps in the road?”

“Well, maybe if we had fixed the wheel before we left, instead of just assuming it would hold,” Blinkie snapped back before Marble could voice her apology. The old stallion narrowed his eyes and looked about to give her an earful, but Flint’s voice forestalled further arguing.

“Rear axle’s broke, and it looks like the other wheel’s about to give out, too,” he said, on his knees in the mud and head stuck underneath the wagon. He pulled back out after a moment and shook his head. “No way we’re fixin’ that without proper tools for repair.”

“But our luggage is going to get soaked if we have to carry it in the rain,” their mother protested from beneath the canopy of the wagon.

“Sorry, ma’am, but the cart’s goin’ nowhere fast like this,” Flint called back.

“I guess we’ll have to find a mechanic in town,” Marble said, wary of her father’s temper, “but I don’t think anypony will want to come out here and fix it this late, in this weather.”

The older stallion gnashed his teeth for a moment before speaking. “Well, I’m not leaving our wagon out here overnight.” He looked at the broken wheel for a moment before turning his stern gaze back to Marble and Blinkie. “Go find your sister, tell her we’ll need help getting it moved into town. She mentioned she was staying in a bakery of some kind. Sugarloaf Clover or something like that.”

“Yes, Dad,” Marble replied almost automatically. Blinkie said nothing, but fell in step with Marble once she turned and headed for the town.

“It’s Sugarcube Corner,” Blinkie said once they were some distance away from the wagon.

“Hm?”

“The place where Pinkie is staying. It’s called Sugarcube Corner, not Sugarloaf Clover.”

“Oh.” Marble looked at the first couple of houses they passed. None of them looked particularly out of the ordinary, though all seemed inviting. “Well, I guess he just forgot? I don’t think he—”

“He’s had plenty of time to read the letter,” Blinkie said brusquely. “He’s either getting senile, or he’s being wilfully negligent about this.”

“Do you think he’s still angry at Pinkie?” Marble asked after a moment. Blinkie didn’t reply; the look she gave Marble was all the answer she needed.

They walked in silence for a bit. Apart from more houses and quaint cottages, they passed what looked strangely like a tree with several balconies and windows built into it. The street they walked down soon opened into a larger plaza of sorts, dominated by a large circular building. Judging by the sheer size of it, Marble assumed it had to be important.

“So, uhm…” She glanced at her sister. “Which way do we go?”

“I have no idea,” Blinkie admitted after a moment.

Marble looked around in the hopes of finding some clue about their destination. There were at least half a dozen streets they could walk down, along with even more narrow, unmarked passages between buildings.

“Well, let’s try… that one,” she suggested, pointing towards one of the wider streets at random.

“Seems as good a bet as any,” Blinkie replied with a shrug.

As it turned out, the street had a number of shops lining it in addition to what seemed to be more regular dwellings. Each shop was equipped with a sign that either had the name of the store or had a helpful picture indicating which kinds of wares were being sold. Marble halted in front of one, scarcely able to believe what she saw.

“Blinkie, look!” she said with wonder.

“What is it?” her sister asked, coming up next to her.

“They have a quills and sofa shop!”

“What?”

“It’s true! Look!” Marble pointed at the elaborately carved blue sign hanging above one of the stores, emblazoned with a quill and a fancy-looking sofa.

“Ooo...kay? How does that help us at all?”

“I didn’t even know it was possible to make a living running a quills and sofa shop.”

Blinkie rolled her eyes, clearly not as impressed by this discovery as Marble was. “Well, apparently it is if you live in a big city like this. Now come on, I want to get this over with before I catch a cold or something worse.”

They continued down the street until they came to a building with a roof striped like one of the peppermint drops Marble had once gotten from Granny Pie. Light still flowed from the display windows, which were overflowing with more kinds of candy and confectioneries than Marble had names for.

There was no name on the store sign, only a picture of some other kind of candy, but Marble decided that this was most likely Sugarcube Corner; after all, sugar did feature prominently all over the shop. She and Blinkie walked up to the front door, pushed it open, and stepped right into a heated argument between two ponies.

“Look, Bon-Bon, all I’m saying is that it doesn’t prevent you from participating as well,” said the first, a mint-coloured unicorn with a silvery mane. “See it as an opportunity! We could set up our own stall and everything! Besides, didn’t Pinkie already ask you to help out with providing cotton candy?”

“That’s not the point, Lyra! I always volunteer to organize events like this, and Mayor Mare always picks Pinkie, no matter what the occasion is!” the other mare retorted, an earth pony with a beige coat and a mane striped blue and pink. “And it always ends up churning out a huge profit for Sugarcube Corner,” she added with a sour expression after a moment. “All I ask for is a fair chance. Is that too much?”

“I don’t ever hear you complain when we’re actually at Pinkie’s parties,” the unicorn apparently named Lyra replied with a smug smile.

“Not. The. Point,” Bon-Bon hissed, turning to the cash register set on the counter. At that moment, both ponies noticed the two sisters standing awkwardly in the doorway, and the dour expression on Bon-Bon’s face vanished instantly in favour of a friendly and inviting smile. “Oh! Welcome to the Sweet Drop Shop! How can I sweeten your evening? Perhaps a box of freshly boiled hard candy?”

Marble and Blinkie exchanged glances, aware that they were likely about to make the earth pony’s evening just a little bit worse.

“Actually…” Marble began.

“We were wondering if you could tell us where we can find Sugarcube Corner?” Blinkie asked.

“We’re looking for our sister Pinkie, you see.”

“And we’re new in town, so we don’t really know our way around…”

The happy smile vanished from Bon-Bon’s face almost as quickly as it had appeared, though she made an impressive effort to hide the disappointed frown that threatened to replace it. “Oh… I see.” She glanced at the unicorn next to her. “Ly, do you mind?”

“You’re such a pouty-cat…” Lyra said with a little shake of her head. She stepped towards the sisters and gave them a friendly smile. “It’s pretty easy, don’t worry. If you go back up the street towards the town centre, then head down the second street on your right, you’ll get there if you keep going straight. You can’t miss it; it’s the big house decorated like candy.” She grinned wryly. “Well, the other house decorated like candy.”

“Second street, big candy house. Got it,” Blinkie said with a nod. “Thank you very much.”

“No problem at all! And when you see Pinkie, please tell her we’ll be happy to help out with the festival in whatever way we can,” Lyra said, giving the other mare an expectant look. Bon-Bon merely shrugged in response.

Marble nodded, feeling both confused and curious. Festival? Pinkie, what exactly are you planning?

“Uh, right, we will.” She glanced over at the somewhat gloomy Bon-Bon, feeling a stab of pity for the earth pony. “And we’ll be sure to come by and buy something later.”

“Oh, don’t mind Bon-Bon. She’s just being a grump,” Lyra said with a little grin, which earned her a huff from the other mare. “Although it’d be fun to chat some other time. I didn’t know Pinkie had sisters.”

“Well… thanks again, and have a good evening,” Blinkie said with a final wave as she headed out the door, followed by Marble.

“Be seeing you!” Lyra called cheerfully after them.

“Yes, good evening,” Bon-Bon said wearily.

“Well, that was awkward,” Blinkie said as the door closed behind them and they stepped back into the rain.

Marble glanced over her shoulder as they walked back up the street. “They seemed friendly enough, though, don’t you think?”

Blinkie shrugged noncommittally. “I suppose.” She headed to the right as they came back to the town centre.

Marble chewed the inside of her cheek thoughtfully for a moment before following. “What do you think that ‘festival’ they were talking about is?”

“No idea. Guess we’ll just have to ask Pinkie when we find her?”

“Guess so.”

Turning down the street they had been directed to led them past another row of houses, another mix of homes, shops or a combination of both, no two of which looked alike.

“You think that’s it?” Blinkie asked, nodding towards a building lit up with colours and festive decorations. Marble assumed the roof on the upper parts of it were meant to look like frosting like that on the cupcakes Pinkie had sometimes baked back home. Either that, or it was running wax.

“Well, there’s a sign with a giant cupcake hanging from the wall there, and it’s the only candy-shaped house I see around here, so it might not be a bad bet,” Marble replied.

She stopped a short distance from the door; she felt distinctly certain that she had seen something pink in one of the windows for a fleeting second. She looked at her sister who was ascending the steps leading up to the door.

“Did you see that?”

Blinkie raised a hoof to knock on the door. “See what?”

Before Marble could reply, the door was flung open and they were both showered with nothing short of an explosion of confetti and streamers.

“Surprise!” a high-pitched voice full of joy and happiness screamed, and the two sisters suddenly found themselves being pulled indoors by a pair of pink forelegs.

“Wha—?” Blinkie managed to blurt before they were both enveloped in a bone-crushing hug.

“You came! You came! You really came this time! Oh, I’m so super-duper squee-tastically happy I could just burst!” Pinkie cheered and bounced on the spot, heedless of the fact that she was getting mud and rain water all over herself as well.

“Pinkie, we—” Marble tried fruitlessly as Pinkie let them go, but her voice was drowned in the unbridled enthusiasm of their estranged sister.

“I’m so, so, so-so-so-so happy to see you again! I can’t wait for you to meet everypony and—”

“Then why didn’t you write sooner?!” Blinkie snapped, glaring at their sister with an anger and hurt that startled Marble.

Pinkie paused mid-jump, her radiant smile being replaced by a look of utter bafflement. “Wh-what? I’ve written to you every week of every month of every year since I left! Just ask Da—” She looked from Blinkie to Marble to any phantom parents that might have followed them through the door. “Uh, are… are Mom and Dad not with you?” she asked carefully.

“They’re just outside of town. One of the wheels of the wagon broke down just as we arrived,” Blinkie explained, her brow furrowing. “What do you mean you’ve wr—”

“My goodness, you came by wagon in this weather? How dreadful!” a feminine voice exclaimed with shock, and Marble suddenly realised that they were far from alone in the room they had been dragged into. In addition to the three sisters, there were no less than five other ponies; three of them looked to be around Pinkie’s age, while the last two, an older mare and stallion, looked to be in their middle years.

Pinkie clasped her hooves to her mouth and let out a gasp. “Oh no! You mean they’re stuck out there in the rain?”

Marble scuffed a hoof against the floor, then immediately stopped when she realised she was leaving dirt marks on it. “Kind of, yes. Dad refuses to leave the cart there. He wants to at least get it into town, and he sent us here to get some help.”

“We’re on it,” said one of the younger mares, a blonde-maned earth pony wearing a brown hat. “Shouldn’t be too big a hassle gettin’ yer wagon hauled over here, missin’ wheel or not.”

The pony who had spoken previously, a unicorn with a white coat and an immaculately styled mane, nodded in assent. “Absolutely. We’re happy to help.” She shot a fretful glance through one of the windows. “Even if it means getting a little dirty.”

The blonde mare let out a chuckle and came over to the three sisters. “It’s okay, Rares. I reckon Pinkie, Mr Cake an’ I together with Pinkie’s family are enough to move anythin’ short of a train cart here, so long as it’s still got at least one wheel.”

The stallion took off the apron he wore and stepped forward to join them at the door. “Applejack’s right, though maybe you could have something warm to drink ready for when we get back?” he asked, directed at the older mare whom Marble assumed was his wife.

“Of course, and I’ll have some warm blankets ready when you get back,” the plump mare replied. She looked at the unicorn and the last pony, a yellow pegasus with a long pink mane standing next to her. “Rarity, Fluttershy, could you help me with that, please?”

“C’mooon! We can’t keep Mom and Dad waiting!” Pinkie said impatiently, jumping up and down next to the door.

Marble felt a little pang of sadness in her heart as she looked at her older sister. Pinkie seemed so excited, so eager to reunite with their parents. However, Marble was unsure just how mutual that feeling was. Blinkie was still looking at Pinkie with resentment, but it was tinged with confusion and uncertainty.

The four mares and Mr Cake went back outside, the latter having donned a rain cover at the insistence of his wife. Blinkie led the way with Pinkie in hot pursuit, followed by Marble and the blonde earth pony apparently named Applejack, with Mr Cake bringing up the rear.

“So I don’t think I caught yer names. My name’s Applejack,” the mare said conversationally, seemingly supremely unconcerned by the heavy rain pelting them all with a vengeance. “I seem to recall Pinkie tellin’ me one of ya was named Li—”

“Blinkie. My name’s Blinkie,” came the curt, firm reply from the front.

“And I’m Inkie,” Marble said before her mind could formulate a proper response.

Blinkie briefly looked over her shoulder at her. Although she said nothing, Marble could read both surprise and something else in her expression. Was it pity? No doubt she remembered how Marble’s last attempt at using that name had gone as well as Marble herself did. Or perhaps it was just irritation at Marble’s feeble attempt to… do what, exactly?

What am I even doing? she thought, her ears drooping a bit. Am I trying to pretend I’m somepony else? Am I going to be more like Pinkie and Blinkie just by calling myself something similar? She glanced back at Applejack. But she doesn’t know who I am. Maybe… maybe I can be somepony else here. The thought brought a little smile to her lips and a knot of determination to her stomach. Inkie, the self-assured and confident pony.

Pinkie’s head whipped back and forth to look at the sisters in turn, a wide smile on her face. “Blinkie and Inkie? Ooh! I like those names!”

Applejack gave Marble a slightly puzzled look for a moment, then she smiled. “Well, it’s real nice to meet ya both. Pinkie might’ve told ya already, but the four of us are actually cousins.”

So she’s that other family we’ve got here in Ponyville? Marble thought curiously. The mare did not look particularly like either of her sisters. Then again, Pinkie looked different from Marble as well; where Pinkie’s mane was as puffy and unruly as it had been since the day she had gotten her cutie mark, completely unaffected by the downpour, Marble’s mane hung limply down her face and shoulders like a wet curtain, even more so than usual.

She tried to get a better look at the mare next to her, but the gloom surrounding them even with light from some of the windows of the houses surrounding them made it difficult to make out any real details. She was big, though, even bigger than either her or Blinkie, and she had a friendly, open face.

“She mentioned, yes,” Marble replied with a nod. “I didn’t even know we had family elsewhere.”

Pinkie looked over her shoulder at her and grinned excitedly. “I know! Isn’t it great? Oh, but we’re gonna need to come up with a name for Applejack, too! Then we can be Pinkie, Blinkie, Inkie, and—” she scrunched up her face in thought for a moment “—Blondie!” she declared happily.

All four other ponies stared at Pinkie for a moment, even Blinkie, whose earlier bitterness seemed momentarily replaced by amusement.

Pinkie looked from face to face, puzzled. “What?” She sidled over to Applejack and slung a foreleg around her neck, looking at her with a doe-eyed smile. “You like it, right, Applejack?”

“I think I’ll stick with my real name, if’n ya don’t mind,” Applejack deadpanned.

“What’s wrong with ‘Blondie’?” Pinkie asked with genuine confusion, reaching up with her other hoof to fluff the ponytail that Applejack wore her mane in. “You’re blonde. It’s got that ‘ie’-ending. It’s perfect!”

Applejack rolled her eyes with a little smile and gently but firmly brushed Pinkie’s hoof aside. “Pinkie, just ‘cause you like it don’t mean everypony wants a different name. I’ll stick with ‘Applejack’.”

Pinkie just shrugged, her smile unfazed. “Okidoki!” she said, continuing forward with her bouncing gait.

Marble did her best to suppress a giggle; she had forgotten the almost infectious mirth being around Pinkie induced.

They came to a halt, and Marble saw they were back in the town centre again. Blinkie was looking around uncertainly at the various streets. With a sinking feeling, Marble realised they were lost again.

“I think we… we came up that street there, and then we went down that one…” Blinkie mumbled, looking from street to street, which all seemed identical now.

“Did ya notice any particular buildings or landmarks when ya came here?” Applejack asked, walking up next to Blinkie.

“Well, there was this odd treehouse…” Marble suggested carefully, unsure if that was any good indication. For all she knew, there could be dozens of treehouses in the town.

“Oh, the library? That’d make it the east end of town.” Mr Cake offered from the back.

“Right. This way, then,” Applejack said with a nod as she headed down a street seemingly at random, but she walked with purpose and certainty. The three sisters fell in step behind her, Pinkie in the middle, Marble on her left and Blinkie on her right.

“So, you’ve been sending letters every week?” Blinkie asked in a measured voice, looking at Pinkie carefully.

The older sister nodded eagerly. “Yep! Every week on the dot!”

Marble and Blinkie exchanged glances. There had been no letters from their sister in over ten years, not even a tiny note.

“Pinkie… we never heard from you,” Marble said softly.

Pinkie’s eyes widened to saucer-like dimensions. “What?! But I even asked the mailponies if they were sure they’d delivered them until they told me to stop asking because I was ‘slowing down the schedule’!” Her brow creased into a little frown. “I thought for sure that meant you’d gotten the letters…”

Blinkie furrowed her brow. “Well, something must have gone wrong, because we never got any letters. Are you sure you got the address right?”

“We helped her check and doublecheck the address,” Mr Cake interjected. “Everything fit there.”

“I know where the farm is, silly-billy,” Pinkie said with a bemused smile, reaching out to put a hoof on Blinkie’s shoulder. “I can recite it in my sleep! It’s—”

Blinkie slapped the hoof away and instead jabbed her own accusingly at Pinkie’s chest. “And it didn’t occur to you that maybe, just maybe, the reason you didn’t hear back from us is because we didn’t get the letters?” she snapped.

Pinkie’s smile crumbled like brittle glass and she shrank back a little. “I… I thought maybe… you were just busy…”

“Busy for more than ten years?!” Blinkie almost screamed, eyes wide with anger. Pinkie flinched, sitting on her haunches now. “If it really meant that much to you, why didn’t you just deliver at least one letter in person?!”

Pinkie’s lower lip quivered, looking at her younger sister with shock and hurt until Applejack stepped in next to her protectively, shielding her from Blinkie’s glare and returning it with a disapproving look of her own.

“I don’t know ’bout you,” Applejack said in an even tone, “but the Pinkie I know always does the best she can to make other ponies smile, so if she didn’t deliver one in person, I’m sure she had a good reason.”

“I was… s-scared to go back,” Pinkie eventually said in a tiny voice. “But I know Mom and Dad got the letters. The mailmare Pinkie Promised she had delivered them…”

Blinkie snorted, sending out a little puff of vapour from her nostrils. “Oh, I see, she Pinkie Promised…”

Marble wrestled with indecision. On some level, she agreed with Blinkie’s accusations; she knew for certain that neither she nor Blinkie had seen even a hint of a letter from their sister. At the same time, though, it was clear to her that Pinkie was telling the truth about having tried sending them letters, and she did not think that Pinkie deserved to be treated like this.

Blinkie narrowed her eyes as Marble stepped up next to Pinkie, facing their middle sister together with Applejack and Mr Cake. “Oh, you’re siding with her now? Well, there’s a surprise,” Blinkie spat.

Marble flinched inwardly at the venom in her sister’s voice; it was not the first time she had felt it directed at her. “There’s got to be some other reason we didn’t get any letters,” she said. “We should ask Dad about it. He always gets the mail.”

Blinkie was quiet for several moments, seething so much that Marble was a little surprised that the water did not turn to steam around her. “Fine, but this isn’t over,” she growled with a resentful look. Marble could not tell whether it was directed at her or at Pinkie.

They continued on in awkward silence, Blinkie walking on her own now a short distance behind Applejack. Marble knew better than to try and talk to her sister when she was in a brooding mood this bad.

“Thanks,” Pinkie muttered next to Marble so quietly that she was unsure if she had heard anything at all. She glanced at her older sister and gave her a wan smile, which Pinkie reciprocated with a frail one of her own.

“I think I see ‘em. That your wagon there?” Applejack called ahead of them.

The lopsided wagon was where they had left it, looking forlorn and pathetic, as if it had been left to the ravages of the elements for months. “That’s the one,” Marble confirmed wearily. Great first impression we must be making.

“Where’s Mom and Dad?” Pinkie asked carefully, looking around as if they might be hiding in the bushes.

“Probably taking shelter in the wagon,” Marble replied, then called out towards the cart: “Dad? We’re back!”

A moment later, their father emerged from the back, followed by Flint. “Took you long enough,” the old stallion said with a scowl as the five ponies got closer.

Pinkie lit up upon seeing their father. She bounded forward, smiling happily and sending up little sprays of water and dirt with each eager step. “Hi, Dad!”

Their father regarded his long-lost daughter for a moment with an impassive expression that could have been hewn from stone before speaking in an equally indifferent voice. “Pinkie, Limestone and you—” he pointed a hoof at Mr Cake “—support the right side of the wagon. Marble and you—” he gestured at Applejack “—lift up the left side. Flint, go to the front with me.”

Well, so much for ‘Inkie’, Marble thought with a sinking feeling, which sank even lower when she saw the crestfallen expression on Pinkie’s face; she looked as if their father had just slapped her, which he might as well have done. Her ears pinned back against her skull as their father walked past her without a second glance.

Marble ducked her head slightly and headed to the rear of the wagon as their father walked past, but rather than following her, Applejack looked at Mr Pie with a tight-lipped frown.

“That ain’t no way for a father to greet his daughter,” she said to the old stallion.

Marble’s breath caught in her throat as Mr Pie stopped briefly and looked at Applejack, but rather than snapping at her for her impudence, he simply ignored her and continued past her. Marble let out a little sigh of relief, only for her jaw to almost drop to the ground when Applejack calmly stepped in front of Mr Pie and blocked his path. Even the old stallion seemed taken aback for a moment, but his expression quickly took on its habitual quality of supreme authority.

“Step aside,” he commanded in a voice that demanded unquestioning obedience. Years of being exposed to it almost made Marble’s legs move on their own, even though the voice was not directed at her. Applejack, however, simply remained where she was, her expression equally as unyielding as Mr Pie’s. Even more amazingly, she was looking him directly in the eye without flinching.

“Not until you say hello to Pinkie,” Applejack replied evenly.

They glared at each other in dead silence, Mr Pie subjecting Applejack to the full force of his will-crushing glare, to which Applejack responded with stoic determination. The only sound was the steady downpour of the rain. Marble had to remind herself to breathe.

To Marble’s great surprise, it was her father, not Applejack, who eventually gave up in their battle of wills. He turned his head towards Pinkie, his jaw working almost mechanically. “Hello, Pinkie,” he said, and after a quick glance at the still-unyielding Applejack, he added in a tone utterly lacking in warmth: “It’s nice to see you again.”

Marble almost could not believe what she saw and heard. Her father never backed down in a confrontation like that.

Mr Pie glared at at Applejack with an expression that would have made stone flinch. Applejack simply nodded and stepped aside, letting the old stallion pass. She followed him with her head for a moment, but despite her victory, there was no smugness or gloating on her face, only a look of sadness. The old stallion slipped into the harness at the front and looked over his shoulder at the other ponies. His gaze passed briefly over Marble, and though she could see the frustration and anger in his eyes, he bottled it up inside like most other things. When he spoke, his voice was calm and almost normal.

“Well, let’s get to it. To your places,” he said, and the spell that had mesmerised them all was broken.

Marble slipped under the wagon next to the broken half of the wheel and began to lift with her back, straining her muscles. After a moment, Applejack slipped in next to her, and together with Pinkie, Blinkie and Mr Cake, they managed to lift the rear portion of the wagon off the ground.

There was a sound of wood sliding against wood and a loud thunk, followed by a low curse. “Careful out there! The luggage isn’t fastened, you know!” their mother shouted from within the relative shelter of the wagon.

“Sorry, dear. Can’t be helped,” their father replied. He looked from Marble and Applejack to the three ponies on the other side and nodded. “All right, let’s get this into town so we can all get someplace dry.”

A mix of strained grunts of assent were their reply as they began to move the broken wagon forward. Despite being used to moving large boulders around the farm at home, Marble felt her back and legs protest under the weight of the wagon. She did not envy the others who were unused to moving heavy loads on a daily basis. She glanced at Applejack next to her, but if the other pony found the burden hard to bear, she showed no signs of it. Her heart almost jumped into her throat when her cousin turned her head to look back at her.

Although Marble had never tried being flayed alive, she reasoned that the scrutinizing gaze of her cousin’s eyes—remarkably green eyes—came pretty close to it. However, this was not the same willful look as before that would likely have reduced her to a whimpering filly on the ground. Instead, Applejack’s eyes seemed to be searching for something in Marble’s face, and once again she became acutely aware that some of the first words she had spoken to her newfound cousin had been a lie. Despite wanting very badly to look anywhere except at Applejack, she was unable to turn away from the measuring stare.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Applejack turned her attention back to the road in front of them, head kept low beneath the undercarriage, and Marble let out a breath she did not realise she had been holding.

“So which is it?” the other mare asked after a moment, quiet enough that only Marble could hear it over the plodding of hooves and the creaking of the two wheels still on the ground.

Marble swallowed a bit and exhaled quietly. “Marble,” she replied softly.

Applejack nodded her head slightly, thoughtfully. “It’s a nice name. Don’t know why you’d try to hide it.”

Marble did not know how to reply.

5: Capacity conundrum

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“All right, that’s enough,” Mr Pie said. “Set it down gently. Right side first, then the left.”

Marble bent her knees as she and the others lowered the rear of the wagon in a more or less coordinated manner. When the still-intact wheel on the right side touched the ground, she and Applejack sidled towards the middle of the axle, lowering the broken left side as well. After a bit of careful manoeuvring, the wagon rested on its own weight.

On Mr Cake’s suggestion and following his directions, they had parked the wagon right outside Sugarcube Corner. Mr Pie and Flint shrugged out of their harnesses and walked over to the others, who had formed a little half-circle around the rear of the cart.

“I hope you don’t mind us leaving our wagon here until the morning, sir,” Mr Pie said politely to Mr Cake, keeping his expression neutral. “We’ll try to get it repaired and moved as soon as possible.”

Mr Cake gave him a friendly smile, but it seemed a little forced to Marble; he was probably still somewhat wary of her father after the callous way in which he had ignored Pinkie. “Oh, don’t worry about that. Why don’t you come inside? My wife should have something warm ready for us.”

“Oh, that would be lovely,” her mother chirped from inside the wagon. “Girls, come help me with the luggage.”

“The girls and Flint can handle the luggage. You just come on inside, dear,” Mr Pie said firmly. Marble glanced over at Blinkie, but there were no exchanged looks with rolling eyes as she had expected. Blinkie did not even look at her. Her sister’s glare was focused on their mother as she emerged from the wagon.

Her father held up a hoof to help her mother down the steps at the back of the wagon, the older mare’s bad hindleg slowing the descent to a crawl. Mrs Pie looked briefly at Pinkie over her glasses.

“Hello, Pinkie,” she said with a small, tight smile.

Pinkie smiled back carefully. “Hi, Mom.” There was a glimmer of hope in her eyes at the acknowledgement.

Like a puppy craving affection, Marble thought, feeling a pang of equal parts pity and exasperation.

“Would you take us inside, please?” her father asked Mr Cake. “My wife needs to sit down and rest.”

The other stallion nodded. “Of course. Right this way.”

“Oh, Igneous, I’m fine, really,” Mrs Pie protested feebly as she followed the two stallions, Mr Pie supporting her with one leg.

“You need to rest,” he said gruffly, in the way that indicated that there was no room for discussion. He looked over his shoulder. “Be quick about the luggage. I don’t want it to get soaked.”

“Don’t worry, Mr Pie. We’ll have it done in a jiffy,” Flint said with his usual chipper voice. Marble could not help but feel he was a terrible suck-up at times. He climbed into the wagon and disappeared for a moment.

“Uhm… what’s wrong with Mom’s leg?” Pinkie asked in a somewhat timid voice after their parents had disappeared from sight. Blinkie moved to the back of the wagon and gave Marble a brief look. ‘You tell her,’ her expression said.

Marble suppressed a sigh and turned to Pinkie. “She injured her leg about a year ago when we were emptying the shale shaft. Dad’s put her on strict bedrest since then.”

“A year? Her leg didn’t mend right?” Applejack asked. Marble glanced over her shoulder at her.

“She says she still has pains sometimes, and Dad refuses to let her do field work until she’s fully recovered.”

Pinkie’s expression fell. “Oh, poor Mom…”

“Maybe she’d recover faster if she didn’t just sit around doing nothing all day,” Blinkie grumbled as Flint heaved a large wooden chest onto her back.

Marble shot her sister a look of reproach. “You shouldn’t talk about Mom like that. She doesn’t—”

“She’s useless,” Blinkie spat harshly. Marble flinched. She wanted to reprimand her sister, had to reprimand her; at the same time, a small part of her agreed with the words she could never utter herself.

Blinkie looked at her conflicting expressions for a moment, then snorted and walked past her and the stunned Pinkie to the door. Marble glanced at Applejack; her cousin shook her head sadly, and Marble got the distinct feeling that they had let the mare down somehow.

“She doesn’t mean it,” Marble mumbled as she took up position for the next piece of luggage, though she was not sure who the words were intended for.

“She’s just tired. You know how she is. Give her a bit to cool down and she’ll come around,” Flint said confidently as he placed a smaller but still heavy trunk on Marble’s back. His endless optimism was equal parts reassuring and aggravating.

The first thing Marble noticed upon opening the door to Sugarcube Corner was the barrage of sweet, almost cloying scents that permeated the inside of the building. She was almost certain they had not been so overpowering last time she entered, though perhaps that had something to do with the large tray full of pastries and tea on a nearby table. Her parents were already seated around it together with Mr and Mrs Cake.

A tray with a similar abundance of sugary treats was placed at second table, where Blinkie sat together with the yellow pegasus named Fluttershy. Blinkie was in the process of wiping her face and hooves with a towel that was quickly becoming more dirt-stained than white. Marble deposited the trunk inside the doorway next to the other piece of luggage just as the unicorn—Rarity, wasn’t it?—emerged from a room at the back with a stack of fresh towels.

She trotted over to Marble with a pretty smile on her lips. Now that Marble got a better look at her, ‘stunning’ was the first word that sprung to mind to describe her, followed closely by ‘beautiful’ and ‘gorgeous’ vying for second place. How did I not notice that before? Marble thought. Then again, there had hardly been a lot of time for getting a good look at anyone the first time they had been here. She tried not to be too overt as she looked the unicorn over. She must take really good care of herself… How did she even get her mane like that?

“Here you go, darling. It’s not ideal, but it should keep you sane until you can have proper warm bath,” she said sympathetically. Marble let out a little yelp and almost jumped back as one of the towels lifted from the unicorn’s back and floated towards her. She felt a flush of embarrassment as the others at the tables stopped talking and looked at her. The unicorn actually had to stifle a giggle with her hoof.

“First time seein’ magic in action?” Applejack asked behind Marble. She glanced over her shoulder to see the other mare grinning at her. Somehow it made her blunder seem even worse.

“M-magic?” Marble stammered and looked back at the floating towel. Only now did she notice that it was enveloped in a blueish shimmer identical to the one surrounding the unicorn’s horn. Marble wished she could burn a hole in the floor and sink through it. Of course unicorns did magic; that was what they were all about. She had both heard and read about it, but up until now, she’d had no idea what it meant.

Applejack chuckled and gave Marble a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, it’s freaky at first, but you get used to it right quick,” she said, depositing a bag that Marble recognised as being her own next to the other luggage.

“Applejack is right, even though I would argue the ‘freaky’ part,” the unicorn said with a patient smile, still proffering the towel. “Go on, take it. It’s perfectly safe, I assure you.”

“Thank you,” Marble said and took the towel after a moment’s hesitation. She carefully put the cloth to her other foreleg. It seemed like a perfectly ordinary towel.

“My pleasure. It looked like you needed it,” the unicorn said with a smile, then quickly added: “Ah, no offense intended.”

Marble suddenly became painfully aware of just how messy and filthy she was after the travel, even more so compared to Rarity’s own pristine white coat. Even though there was nothing condescending about her expression, something about the unicorn’s immaculate appearance seemed to painfully showcase Marble’s own shortcomings. At least she was able to get the majority of the dirt off her forelegs with some furious scrubbing.

“Nevermind her,” Applejack said, evidently noticing Marble’s discomfort. “Rarity’s just so deathly afraid of hard work, the sight of its effects scare her somethin’ fierce.” The towel Applejack had been using to dry her wet coat was snatched from her grasp in a blue shimmer, rolled up tight and then swiped at her flank with a crack. Applejack leapt away from the vengeful towel with a laugh. “Alright, alright, sorry! No need to get prissy, Rares.”

Rarity let out a little huff and flung the towel at Applejack, who caught it with her teeth. “Anyway,” she said, putting her friendly smile back on for Marble, “there is warm tea and some refreshments, if you’d like. It must have been an exhausting journey, especially in this weather.”

“Well, I am a little hungry…” Marble admitted, wishing her stomach would growl a bit less loudly as the enticing smells from the tray hit her with renewed force.

“Cake ain’t exactly a wholesome meal, but you should never pass on a chance to try some of pastries here,” Applejack said, heading towards the less crowded table. “She’s the best darn baker I know.”

Pinkie bounced past Marble and pulled her along eagerly, a towel still clinging to her older sister’s right foreleg. “Oh! Oh! You should try the cream horns! I made them this morning!” Pinkie said excitedly, not noticing as the towel was lifted away by a blue shimmer. Marble only listened with one ear, watching in fascination as Rarity took the last towel from Flint and floated them all in front of her as she headed to the door at the back of the room again.

“The cream horns. Right…” Marble turned her gaze to the tray, trying to guess which of the half-dozen curiously shaped pastries was the right one. Pinkie watched her expectantly. She picked up one of the pastries that seemed to be the most horn-shaped.

“No, silly, that’s not a cream horn. That’s a croissant!” Pinkie said with a giggle.

“Oh. Uh, sorry,” she mumbled, almost putting the pastry back down but catching herself at the last moment. Her mother had always told her that it was ill manners to put back food that she had touched.

“It’s okay! I made the croissants as well, and they’re also yummy! Not quite as creamy, though,” her elder sister said brightly, her happiness not diminished in the least by Marble’s mistake.

“Come on, Pinkie, have a seat and let her figure out what to pick,” Applejack said with a chuckle. She was sitting next to Blinkie, while Pinkie sat down next to the pegasus on the opposite bench. After a moment’s hesitation, Marble took a seat next to Applejack. They were joined a few seconds later by Rarity, who took the remaining spot on the other bench. Flint was the last to sit down, squeezing in at the far edge of the bench next to Blinkie.

For a moment, they sat in an awkward silence, apart from the small talk at the other table; Pinkie glanced somewhat nervously at Blinkie, who had her eyes focused on the pastry she was eating. The pegasus was fidgeting her hooves and mostly seemed to be trying to make herself as small as possible, a feat helped in no small degree by her voluminous mane. Applejack glanced between the two older sisters with her brow furrowed slightly in concern.

It was Rarity who broke the silence first, clearing her throat daintily and politely. “I don’t think we ever got properly introduced,” she said, tilting her head slightly with that nice smile again. “My name is Rarity, which I suppose you might have picked up on by now. This lovely pegasus here is our good friend Fluttershy—” she inclined her head towards the pegasus, who smiled timidly at them from behind her bangs “—and I’m sure you’ve already talked to the charming Applejack.” She said the last name with a little sneer, but Marble thought she could see that same playful twinkle in her eye as from before. Applejack mockingly tipped her hat at the unicorn.

Marble shifted a bit in her seat, unsure what to make of the banter. She cleared her throat as well, though it somehow sounded less refined and more like a frog had gotten caught in it. “We’ve, uh, talked, yes. My name’s Marble,” she said.

Flint doffed a non-existent hat at Rarity and smiled, earning a look from Blinkie. “I’m Flint Chip. Real nice to meet y’all.”

“Blinkie,” her sister said curtly when Rarity’s head turned to her expectantly. The look she returned was wary, stopping just shy of hostile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all as well,” Rarity said in a voice that seemed wholly sincere, despite the lukewarm response. She lifted a rotund teapot from the tray with that mesmerising blue shimmer. “Would any of you like some tea? It’s a refreshing rooibos infusion.”

“Uh, yes, please,” Marble said absently, unable to take her eyes off the teapot as it elegantly floated through the air towards her, tilting at an angle until a small, controlled stream of steaming water poured into the cup in front of her.

Blinkie nodded as well. “Sure.” The teapot hovered over to her, and Marble noticed with some satisfaction that her sister was equally as fascinated by the sight, even if she tried harder to hide it.

Rarity had just finished pouring tea for Fluttershy when Mr Pie stood up at the other table. “Thank you for your hospitality,” he said with a polite nod, “but it’s been a long journey, and it’s getting late. We would like to get some rest now, if possible.”

“Oh, I’ll show you where you can sleep! Follow me!” Pinkie said brightly, jumping to her hooves and eagerly heading towards the stairs, followed by her parents.

“Girls, help with the luggage,” Mr Pie said. Before Marble could get out of her seat, however, Mr and Mrs Cake trotted over to pick it up.

“It’s all right, dears, we’ll take care of it,” Mrs Cake said to the sisters with a kindly smile. “You look like you could use some rest of your own.”

Marble nodded mutely and sat back down while Mrs Cake and her husband began to heave the heavy luggage up the stairs.

Once again it was Rarity who seemed compelled to break the silence that followed first. “So,” she said, placing her cup delicately back on its small plate after taking a sip, “how long will you be staying in Ponyville?”

Marble quickly swallowed her pastry to reply, narrowly avoiding choking on it as she did. “I don’t know, really. A couple of days at least, I think. It depends on what Dad says.”

“Your father makes these decisions?” the unicorn asked.

Marble nodded. “Mostly, yeah. Mom doesn’t really—” Mom doesn’t really make them because she always tries to please everypony, ends up pleasing nopony, and usually defers to Dad anyway. A kind pony would call her mother well-meaning; an unkind one would call her spineless. “Mom usually agrees with Dad,” she finished.

Marble almost jumped out of her seat as a frightened shriek from her mother rang out from upstairs, followed by Pinkie’s voice frantically giving some sort of explanation. Both Blinkie and Flint looked up in shock, the latter halfway on his hooves already, but the other three seemed largely undisturbed, except for a brief backward glance by Rarity and Fluttershy.

A reassuring hoof touched Marble on the shoulder and gently eased her back into her seat. Applejack gave her a little smile. “Don’t worry, I think yer parents just met Gummy, is all. He has that effect on ponies the first time they see him.”

“Gummy?” Marble asked, her mind racing to figure out what could have a name like that and elicit such a reaction.

“Pinkie’s pet alligator,” Rarity explained. “He’s harmless, even if he has a propensity for, well, gumming anything that gets near him,” she added at the baffled looks she received.

“He’s really very nice,” Fluttershy said softly, the first words she had spoken since Marble had arrived. She finally took a good look at the pegasus, whose appearance was as demure as her voice. “He’s actually more dangerous to himself than anything. The poor dear still can’t eat anything solid, and he often ends up choking on whatever it is he tries to bite.”

Marble was still trying to come to terms with this strange revelation when Pinkie trotted down the stairs, biting her lip anxiously.

Applejack tilted her head a bit. “Somethin’ wrong, Pinkie?”

“Well, kinda. Or not really wrong, just, uhm, not quite right?” Pinkie gave her a smile of forced cheer.

“Is it something we can help you with, darling?” Rarity asked, turning around in her seat to face Pinkie.

Pinkie wrung her hooves a bit and looked around. “Uhm, well, turns out I forgot a teensy-little detail. We only have room for Mom and Dad to sleep here, even if we use all the spare mattresses…” She was decidedly not looking in Marble or Blinkie’s direction now. “So I don’t know… uhm…”

“You didn’t plan for where the rest of us should sleep,” Blinkie finished for her in a flat voice. “That’s great. I guess we’ll just sleep in the wagon, then.”

“Hold on now,” Applejack said. “Ain’t no kin of mine gonna sleep outside when we got plenty room back at the farm. Y’all can stay with us.”

Rarity looked at Applejack incredulously. “Absolutely not! You want them to walk all the way to Sweet Apple Acres in this weather? They just got dry, for Celestia’s sake! No, they can stay with me for the night. My house is just down the street, and I’ve got plenty of couch space and soft cushions.”

Flint smiled, looking from Rarity to Blinkie. “Well, that sounds mighty nice. Right, Blinkie?”

“We’ll stay at the farm, thanks,” Blinkie said curtly. “No offense, but I’m a country pony, and I doubt I could sleep properly in a home as classy as yours.”

Rarity raised an eyebrow at her, but simply nodded. She turned her attention to Marble. “What about you, darling?”

Marble hesitated a bit under the unicorn’s gaze. Although the offer seemed wholly sincere and Rarity’s expression was friendly and inviting, she could not help but feel a little intimidated by the unicorn mare. If the house was anything like Rarity herself, Marble would stick out like a sore hoof. She glanced to her right at Applejack; her cousin’s smile was no less welcoming than Rarity’s, but there was something familiar there in contrast to the unicorn. Magic still unsettled Marble.

“I… think I’ll go with Applejack as well, if you don’t mind,” she said carefully. “Not that I don’t appreciate your offer.”

Rarity shrugged lightly and smiled. “Of course I don’t mind. Family first, after all. If you change your mind, however, you’re welcome to stay.” She looked over at Fluttershy. “And you, Fluttershy? Don’t tell me you’re going to walk all the way home too.”

“Well, uhm, if it’s okay—and you’re sure it’s not a bother—I think I’ll stay with you…” Fluttershy mumbled into her mane.

Rarity nodded magnanimously. “Of course, darling.”

“Are you sure it’s all right, Applejack?” Pinkie asked with a hopeful smile, even as she glanced nervously at Blinkie. “It’d be super-duper if it could work, at least until I get some more mattresses…”

Applejack held up a hoof. “Don’t you worry about it none, Pinkie. We’ll be glad to have ‘em. It ain’t often we get family visiting like this.”

“Yay! Thank you!” Pinkie was halfway across the table to hug Applejack—Rarity hurriedly moved all teacups and other fragile porcelain to the sides—when her eyes fell upon Blinkie and Marble, and her face slipped back into its fretful folds. “I’m really sorry! I bumbled this one bad. I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow! Pinkie Promise!” She solemnly made the appropriate gestures, and Marble could not help but feel sorry for her; this was most likely not the reunion she had hoped for.

She smiled at her older sister in a way she hoped was reassuring. “It’s fine, Pinkie, really. I’m sure it just slipped your mind. It happens.” Blinkie gave her a rather sour look, but Applejack nodded approvingly.

“We should probably consider headin’ out if you’re comin’ along, though,” her cousin said. “It’s a bit of a walk, an’ the day ain’t gettin’ any longer. You wanna tell yer parents where we’re goin’?”

As if on cue, Mr Pie yelled for Pinkie’s attention from somewhere above. She gave the sisters a last apologetic look and ran back upstairs.

“Pinkie can tell them,” Blinkie said, already heading for the door. “Let’s just get going before they find something to object over.” She stopped next to the remaining luggage near the door and nodded curtly at the other ponies.

“Yeah, was a real pleasure. I hope we’ll meet again later,” Flint said with a wide smile, seemingly mostly directed at Rarity. The unicorn nodded graciously, while Fluttershy mumbled something inaudible in reply.

Blinkie narrowed her eyes. “Flint, come help me with my bag, please.”

The stallion started and quickly trotted over to her, muttering an apology.

Somepony’s getting an earful later, Marble thought as Blinkie shot Rarity a dark look, then turned the baleful glare on Flint. The stallion cringed and looked sheepishly at his hooves. Marble dearly hoped her sister could hold her tongue until Applejack was not around; their cousin had only seen them at their worst so far. She did not relish the prospect of being further embarrassed in front of Applejack by Blinkie throwing a hissy fit.

Rarity, for her part, either missed or willfully ignored the hostile look. She gave Marble another of her dazzling smiles. “Well, I wish you all a pleasant night, then. You’re more than welcome to come by for a cup of tea at a later date, if you so desire. Applejack can show you where I live.” She turned her attention to the larger mare. “You get them home safely, now. A hot, steaming shower would be most appreciated, I’m certain.” She paused for a moment and then, with a small smile, added: “You do have a shower, right?”

“Nah, we just wait until the dirt dries up enough that we can shake it off like flaky crust,” Applejack said. She rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation at Rarity’s horrified expression. “Of course we got a shower, Rares.”

Marble looked from one to the other, once again uncertain what to make of the exchange. Applejack shook her head and turned to her with a little smile. “Nevermind Miss Spa Pony there. You ready to go?”

Marble nodded and put on a smile, resolving not to think too hard about the oddities of the two mares. “I am. It was nice to meet you as well,” she said to Rarity and Fluttershy. She headed over to the door where Flint and Blinkie were waiting, the former carrying Blinkie’s luggage, the latter with a somewhat impatient expression on her face.

She was about to pick up her bag, but Applejack beat her to it. The result was that Marble’s muzzle bumped into her cousin’s strong shoulder instead. “Why don’t ya let me carry that, eh?” Applejack said, slinging the bag effortlessly over her shoulder. “I reckon you’re pretty spent at this point.”

“...Thank you,” Marble muttered after a moment, hoping the blush she felt on her cheeks did not actually show. Applejack smiled easily, apparently not noticing her fluster, and headed out the door.

Outside, the sky was as foreboding as ever, but the distant rumble of thunder now accompanied the splashing rain. Marble followed Applejack closely as she led them down another street with unerring confidence. Blinkie and Flint lagged a short distance behind them, talking quietly enough that Marble could not make out the details, but given that her sister’s voice was a good deal more forceful than Flint’s, she had an inkling what it might be about.

As the street gave way to open road once again, she glanced at Applejack, feeling an inexplicable surge of guilt for what her cousin had seen of her family so far. She took a deep breath and trotted up next to the other mare.

“I’m sorry,” Marble said. Applejack gave her a puzzled look. “You’re really not seeing our family at its best. Usually we’re not so…” Bitter? Gloomy? Talkative? Only one of those was true, and one was a half-truth. “Not so hostile,” she settled for eventually.

To her surprise, Applejack let out a little laugh. At first Marble thought it was a mocking laughter, but the smile on her cousin’s face was warm enough. “It’s okay. I know y’all were probably just tired an’ on edge after a long trip. Things with family don’t always pan out the way we’d like ’em. Shucks, you should’ve seen when Pinkie came on a road trip with mah family. Wasn’t exactly our finest moment.”

“What went wrong?” Marble asked, tilting her head curiously.

“Pretty much everythin’,” Applejack said with a little grin. “We bickered when the cart broke down after we’d loaded it too heavily. We bickered when we lost our map. We bickered over which direction to go after we lost our map. We bickered when the raft we’d made out of the remains of our cart broke down…”

Marble winced a bit. “Ouch. I think I see the pattern.”

“Well, it wasn’t all bad. It was also when figured out that Pinkie’s part of the family, so…”

“Really?” Marble bit her lip for a moment. “I’ve been meaning to ask about that…”

Applejack smiled in understanding. “Wonderin’ how come we’re related? I gotta admit, I was a bit shocked when Pinkie first told me as well. Apparently she’d been with Twilight who’d been doin’ some kin research—mighty smart gal, Twilight is—an’ there was somethin’ suggestin’ a link ’tween our families. So we decided to go an’ check up on it with a pony who’d know for sure: Golden Delicious, mah granny’s own cousin.

“We went there on that road trip I mentioned, an’ sure enough, she had some real detailed records. Unfortunately, the entry on the Pies and Apples was a mite smudged, probably on account of the dozens of cats she’s got runnin’ around, but it was pretty darn clear that the link was real.”

Marble furrowed her brow a bit in puzzlement. “But didn’t you just say the records on it weren’t clear?”

Applejack chuckled lightly. “Anypony who could put up with the antics we put Pinkie through an’ still come out wantin’ to be part of us is family through an’ through. An’ if that don’t convince ya, then ask yerself why the family records would even have a mention of the Pies if there wasn’t somethin’ about it.”

She does have a point, Marble admitted to herself.

Applejack’s voice became a little softer. “Hey, can I ask ya somethin’?”

“Uhm, sure?” Marble gave her a little smile. “I mean, seems only fair after my own question…”

“Why’d you lie about yer name?”

There was no barb or resentment in Applejack’s voice or her eyes, only honest curiosity, but the question still almost made Marble flinch. “I’m sorry. It was silly of me. I just…” She searched fruitlessly for words for a moment.

“You don’t like yer name?”

Marble glanced at her cousin; either Applejack was very perceptive, or she herself was being very transparent. “I’m named after a chunk of rock. Try and compare that to a name like… like Rarity.”

Applejack grinned and leaned closer in a conspiratorial manner. “Before you go wantin’ her ‘special name’, lemme tell you a lil’ somethin’ ’bout Rarity. Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Rarity’s quite the fashion filly.”

Marble nodded a bit. ‘Fashion’ was another of those words she knew existed but had no clear concept of. It seemed appropriately exotic a word that someone like Rarity might embody it, though.

“Well, this one time, she had a customer visit while wearin’ some real fancy getup, an’ the looks of it were apparently so shockin’ for her that she needed an emergency audience to vent her disgust to. I happened to be nearby at the time along with Fluttershy, so we both got roped into it.” Applejack tried her best to suppress little hiccups of laughter.

“Once Rarity was done describin’ that ‘abomination towards all fashion everywhere’, Fluttershy calmly pointed out that the dress the customer had worn was the same one Fluttershy had spent weeks modellin’ for Rarity for her spring line of dresses last year. An’ all Rarity could say to that was ‘oh’. You should’ve seen the look on her face! ’Twas somethin’ like this.” Applejack rounded her lips and shot her jaw to the side, creating an expression of dumbfounded perplexity before breaking into laughter. Marble could not hold back a chuckle of her own. “Cracks me up every time…”

Applejack’s mirthful laughter settled down after a few moments and she shook her head a bit. “Please don’t tell her I told ya this, though. She’d have mah tail if she knew.”

“I won’t. Don’t worry,” Marble said with a little grin.

Applejack’s expression settled into more serious folds again. “Anyway, I wouldn’t trade mah name fer anythin’ in the world. Yer name’s part of who you are; it’s somethin’ to take pride in, not try an’ hide away.”

“I suppose…”

“Besides, we went to this sculpture gallery in Canterlot once. There were a bunch of marble statues there, an’ all of ’em were right pretty, no mistake.”

Marble almost stumbled, her jaw working soundlessly as she looked at Applejack, struggling to come up with an adequate reply. Did she just…? No, she couldn’t have…

Applejack looked back at her with a puzzled expression. “Somethin’ wrong?”

Marble shook her head mutely. “It’s nothing,” she eventually managed to say. “I’m just not used to…” She took a deep breath. Stop. Blubbering. Now. “What I meant to say was ‘thank you’.”

“Don’t mention it,” Applejack said with a little smile.

The conversation drifted off after that. Marble wracked her brain furiously, trying to come up with some sort of decent question to get back on track. ‘So what about your own name?’ No, no, that won’t do. ‘How big is your farm?’ No, why ask that? We’ll get to see it shortly anyway. ‘Does it always rain this much around here?’ Good, if you wanted to go for something completely trite. ‘So what do you grow at the farm?’ It’s called Sweet Apple Acres. Do you want her to think that you’re a moron?

“I have to pee,” she blurted and almost bit her tongue as she immediately tried to swallow the words again. Wow. That wasn’t even a question. Well done.

Applejack gave her a slightly puzzled look. “Uhm, well, if it’s urgent, we can wait here while you hop behind a bush or somethin’. Otherwise the farm’s just up ahead. You can see the arch from here, actually.”

“Ah, no, it’s fine. I-I can wait,” Marble said, mentally kicking herself repeatedly. I’m just tired. That’s all this is. A good night’s sleep and maybe I’ll seem less like a flustered little filly and more like a sane pony.

She followed Applejack quietly up the road to a large farmhouse, determined to keep her mouth shut as much as possible from now until she was sound asleep. Light shone from one of the windows on the ground level and from another on the first floor.

“Looks like Big Mac is still up and about,” Applejack commented. “He’s my big brother,” she added for Marble’s benefit. “He’s real nice, but a mite shy around new folks, so don’t be surprised if he doesn’t say more’n a few words to ya; it ain’t ’cause he’s tryin’ to be rude.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” Marble said with a little smile, realising that it would be next to impossible—not to mention rude—to remain silent when her cousin was talking to her. “We… usually don’t talk all that much back home either. Actually, this is probably the most talking I’ve done in months.” Which would explain why I can hardly string two words together with you. Yeah, must be it.

A large silhouette walked past in the lower of the two windows, and a few moments later, the front door to the farmhouse was opened just as the four ponies came up the path leading to it. Given the sheer size of the stallion standing in the doorway, there was little doubt in Marble’s mind as to his identity.

He was nothing short of massive, standing at least a head taller than all of them, even Flint. He was chewing on a stalk of hay, slowly rolling it from one corner of his mouth to the other. His size would have made him intimidating, but his posture and body language reminded Marble of an oversized version of the teddy bear they had back home.

One by one, he scanned the ponies as they came up to the door. “Friends of yours, AJ?” he asked.

“Family, actually,” Applejack said, “but how ’bout we go inside before we do introductions, hmm? Looks like Dash an’ her crew are in for the long haul with this rain.”

“Who’s Dash?” Marble asked as the stallion obligingly sidestepped to allow them entry into the farmhouse.

Applejack glanced over her shoulder with a little grin. “I’ll tell you later.”

Marble almost let out a sigh of relief at the merciful warmth that greeted them inside. Unlike at Sugarcube Corner, the air here also did not seem as if it would make her develop cavities just by breathing it.

Once they were all safely inside, Applejack turned to her three companions and gestured towards the large stallion. “Right then. This here’s mah brother, Big Macintosh. Mac, Blinke an’ Marble here are our cousins from Pinkie’s side. Feller there’s named Flint, an’ he’s with Blinkie. They’ll be stayin’ with us for a while.”

There was a polite exchange of greetings cut short by an excited bark and the patter of paws. A brown-and-white dog of some kind bounded in from one of the other rooms. It ran in a circle around them all before sniffing at the newcomers, starting with Marble.

“An’ this here’s Winona, our ever vigilant dog,” Applejack said with a chuckle. Marble shifted a bit on her hooves, unsure how to react to the curious critter. Dogs were not exactly familiar territory for her. “Don’t worry, she ain’t gonna bite. She’s just curious.”

“Looks like a mighty fine critter,” Flint said approvingly. “A collie, right?”

Applejack nodded. “Sure is. Best friend any pony ever did have.”

“Woof!” Winona declared and jumped up at Applejack to try and lick her face. Marble did her best not to laugh at Applejack’s half-hearted attempts at fending off the dog.

“All right, Winona, that’s enough. Down, girl,” Applejack said firmly, but with a smile. Winona obeyed instantly, sitting down on her haunches, her tail swishing back and forth over the floor. “Mac, could you show Blinkie an’ Flint to the guest room? Should be plenty big for the both of them. Unless you prefer separate rooms?”

The two ponies shook their heads simultaneously. “A single room will be just fine,” Blinkie said with the first genuine smile in seemingly forever. “As long as it’s got a bed and a blanket, I’m happy.”

“This way,” Big Mac said, leading Blinkie and Flint towards a staircase with Winona following, leaving Applejack and Marble alone in the lower floor.

“Right then,” Applejack said with a bright smile. “I got a spare mattress an’ plenty of space in mah room, so you can sleep there if you like. Otherwise we can take the mattress down here or get some extra blankets an’ pillows for the couch if you feel more comfortable with that.”

“It’s okay,” Marble said quickly. “Blinkie and I share the same room back home. I’m used to it.”

“Great. I’ll go get it set up, then. Bathroom’s just through the living room in here.” Applejack pointed at the well-lit room they had spied coming up to the house. “There’s a shower there as well. My room’s the first on yer right as you come up the stairs.”

Marble nodded. “Shouldn’t I help get things set up, though?”

Applejack waved a hoof dismissively. “Don’t worry, it ain’t no big deal. I’ll probably be done before you are. Besides, didn’t you say you had to go real bad?”

“Uh…” Marble looked at her cousin in puzzlement for a moment. What does she—

“Oh right, yes!” she said quickly as realisation dawned on her, nodding eagerly with a smile that was altogether too wide. “Thanks. I’ll, uhm, I’ll be right back, then.”

Marble quickly trotted into the living room as Applejack disappeared up the stairs with Marble’s bag. She let out a little sigh and fought the urge to bang her head against the nearest wall; most likely it would harm the wall more than her frustratingly thick skull. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

She glanced around the living room as she passed through it. Although by no means ostentatious, it still had several pieces of furniture that seemed purely intended for comfort, not least the extremely cozy-looking couch. The bathroom, although equipped with a relatively simplistic shower, was also a leap above the spartan outhouse they had back home.

Water spilled through the tube from the large overhead container as Marble yanked the chain dangling from it. The liquid splashing over her body felt delightfully warm compared to the downpour outside, even though it was still on the colder end of lukewarm.

Only once she had scrubbed the majority of the mud off her coat and stepped back out of the shower cabin dripping water did she realise she had forgotten to bring a towel. She looked around sheepishly; a couple of towels hung on a rack nearby. Given that the alternative was to leave a trail of water through the living room, she figured borrowing one of them was the less impolite thing to do. She took one of the towels and quickly wiped her coat and mane with it. Upon closer inspection, the name ‘Applejack’ was embroidered near the hem.

It rather felt like a violation of her cousin’s privacy to be using her towel like that; she would definitely have to apologise for it. She fidgeted with the towel for a moment, unsure where to put it. She eventually decided to take it with her as she headed upstairs. Applejack would know what to do with it.

The first door on her right was slightly ajar, and she could see Applejack moving about on the other side. She gently nudged the door open and looked around for a moment. The room was rather modest and practical in its furnishing. There was an oaken bed with a nightstand in one corner, a large closet in another and a small cupboard with an overhanging mirror at one of the walls. Next to the mirror was a coat rack upon which Applejack’s hat hung, along with a rolled-up length of rope.

Applejack herself was moving a large mattress onto the floor next to her bed, along with a fluffy pillow and a thick blanket to go with it. She had removed her hairbands, and her blonde mane hung loosely around her face and neck. It almost made her look like a different pony, if not for the white freckles on her cheeks.

“Hey there, Marble,” she said cheerfully when she noticed the other pony in the doorway. She looked at the towel slung over Marble’s back with some confusion. “Whatcha got there?”

“Uh…” Marble scuffed a hoof against the floor. The idea to bring the towel was starting to seem increasingly silly. “I forgot to bring my towel and had to use one from the bathroom. I didn’t realise it was yours until I saw your name on it. I’m sorry.”

Applejack gave her a slightly bemused look before she lit up in understanding. “Oh, right. It’s not actually mine in that sense. If you notice, there are four names on it, one in each corner: Big Mac, mah sister Apple Bloom, Granny Smith an’ me.”

Marble quickly looked at one of the corners of the towel. Sure enough, there the name ‘Apple Bloom’ was embroidered instead.

“It’s just one of the things Granny likes to add when she’s sewing,” Applejack said with a smile. “She’s the one who made the towels, y’see. Just put it in the basket over there an’ I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

Marble deposited the towel in the wicker basket next to the closet, glumly wondering if there were any other ways she could embarrass herself in front of Applejack before the day was out.

“Now I don’t know about you, but—” Applejack stifled a yawn with her hoof “—I’m pretty beat, so if there’s nothin’ else, perhaps we should catch some shuteye.”

“Yeah. Some sleep sounds good,” Marble said, suddenly feeling the full weight of exhaustion from the day come crashing down on her as she neared the oh-so-inviting mattress. She all but fell onto it—had there ever been a softer mattress in the history of mattresses?—while Applejack climbed into her bed with rather more grace.

“Goodnight, Applejack,” Marble muttered, her eyelids drooping heavily as if made of lead.

Applejack turned off the lamp on her nightstand, enveloping the room in darkness. “Night night, sugarcube,” she said.

…

…Sugarcube?

6: Morning in the Apple house

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Hoofsteps on wood. Floorboards creaking gently. A door opening with a faint squeak.

Through bleary, sleepy, half-closed eyes, Marble saw a pair of strong hind legs and a blonde tail disappear out the doorway. A name floated about in her head somewhere, seeking to attach itself to an owner even as her mind threatened to fall back into slumber. There had been a trio of apples on those shapely haunches. Apples… apples… Applejack… she thought with a languid smile.

A crushing sense of guilt and shame washed away any vestiges of drowsiness; that was most definitely no way to be thinking about her cousin. Marble let out a little groan and turned onto her stomach to bury her face in the soft pillow.

Okay, let’s try that one more time from the top: I am going to wake up, and I will be refreshed and a well-adjusted pony. I’m absolutely not going to do anything awkward or embarrassing today. Right? Right!

She turned around again and almost screamed at the canine face hovering mere inches from her own, looking at her with curiously expressive eyes. She frantically scrambled backwards, getting her legs entangled in her blanket in the process, until her retreat was stopped by her head hitting Applejack’s bed.

“Ow!” she groaned, rubbing the back of her head while desperately willing her heart to stop trying to escape through her ribcage. “H-hello, uh, Winona, right?” she said once she was reasonably sure she had control over her own body again. The dog’s tail wagged in response.

“You shouldn’t scare ponies like that, you know, especially when they aren’t used to dogs!” She gave the dog a stern, admonishing stare, in response to which Winona merely tilted her head.

“Urf?” Winona replied, using her muzzle to nudge a rubber ball between her front paws towards Marble. The dog looked from her to the ball and back again expectantly.

“You… want to play?” Marble asked uncertainly, picking up the ball in her hooves.

“Arf!”

“Well… okay. What do you like to play, then?” It only occurred to her after a moment that she was waiting for a reply from a dog. A dog!

So much for being a well-adjusted pony, she thought with a little shake of her head. She knew that Paws, the shaggy old dog that Mr Chipper brought with him to the farm sometimes, loved to play fetch. Mr Chipper would throw a stick away, and Paws would always chase after it with apparent glee.

“All right, well… catch!” Marble threw the ball to the other side of the room. Winona darted after it in a blur, catching it before it could bounce off the floor a second time. The dog trotted back to Marble and proudly deposited the ball back in her lap.

“Woof!” Winona declared.

Marble gently patted the dog on the head. “Good girl,” she cooed, picking up the ball. “Wanna go again?”

Winona barked once in what almost seemed like confirmation, and Marble lobbed the ball out into the hallway.

She stood up and glanced at herself in the mirror while she waited for Winona to return; it looked as if she had gotten most of the mud out of her coat last night, though her mane could use a little attention. She reached into her bag and slipped the strap of her brush over her hoof, running it through her mane a few times. While she went through the motions, she cast a look through the window, but the world outside was obscured by a thick fog. Once she was satisfied that her mane was back to its usual straight self, she put the brush away just in time to be startled by a wet nose nudging her thigh.

“You’re an insistent one, aren’t you?” she said with a little smile as Winona deposited the rubber ball in front of her hooves. “All right, fine…” She picked up the ball and walked out the room, with Winona following closely. “Ready? Fetch!”

Winona took off like a bullet the moment the ball was thrown down the stairs. She disappeared around the corner at the foot of them as the ball bounced off a wall and into the living room. Marble felt a dopey smile on her face as she headed downstairs after Winona, hearing the scrambling of paws against wood as the dog chased the elusive ball.

This is fun! No wonder ponies keep dogs around. The thought was immediately replaced by the image of either the ball or Winona accidentally knocking over and breaking a potted plant, a lamp, a photo or any of the other highly breakable items in the living room. She rushed down the last few steps and stopped in the doorway, letting out a sigh of relief as Winona proudly presented the rubber ball to her.

“Good girl, Winona! Good girl!” Marble said emphatically, feeling almost elated that the living room appeared to be intact.

Her ears swiveled around at the sound of a door opening behind her, and she looked over her shoulder to see Applejack manoeuvring through the front door with a wooden cask balanced on her back.

“Mornin’, Marble,” Applejack said cheerfully, smiling as she looked from Marble to the excited farmdog, who momentarily abandoned the rubber ball to greet her owner. “You gettin’ along all right with Winona, I take it?”

Marble nodded eagerly. “Yeah, she’s great! We don’t have a dog back home, but I kind of wish we did now.” She felt a sudden spark of worry as she looked at Winona, who was now trying—unsuccessfully—to get Applejack to throw the ball as well.. “Uh, it’s… it’s not a problem that I’m playing with her, is it? I mean, I don’t want to make her undisciplined or something…”

“It doesn’t work like that, don’t worry,” Applejack said with a little chuckle as she headed into the living room, Winona padding after her good-naturedly. After a moment’s hesitation, Marble followed them as well. “And if anything, she could use some more playtime every now an’ then. Girl like her has got a lot of energy to burn.”

“That’s good to know,” Marble said. Surreptitiously, she watched her cousin’s mannerisms; Applejack did not seem to be behaving strangely. Maybe there had been nothing behind her words yesterday after all. Then again, Marble would hardly claim she knew the mare well enough to know what to look for.

Watching her mannerisms. That was all Marble was doing. She most definitely was not watching the swaying motions of Applejack’s hips and her strong back as she carried the heavy-looking barrel as if it weighed nothing more than a feather. The only thing stopping Marble from slapping herself across the face was the fact that her cousin would most likely notice the noise.

Stop doing that! What the blazes is wrong with you? she thought, feeling a fluster and embarrassment she dearly hoped did not show on her face. Maybe I just need to go dunk my head in a bowl of water or something.

“So I guess you’re keen on gettin’ some breakfast in ya?” Applejack asked without looking over her shoulder, heading for the kitchen. “Don’t know how it is for you, o’course, but I usually feel famished whenever I wake up. Besides, didn’t seem like you had a whole lot to eat yesterday.”

The growling of Marble’s stomach at the mention of food replied for her before she could, and she felt an almost ridiculous sense of relief rush through her; she was just a bit woozy from not having eaten properly in a while. The relief became mixed with an anxious, tingling sensation as Applejack shot her an amused look.

Marble stuck her nose up and shrugged lightly. “Well, I guess I’m a little peckish,” she said airily, trying her best to play it off.

That got a laugh out of Applejack, and Marble chuckled as well, although hers was—in her own ears—rather more nervous.

“So, what should I do?” Marble asked, looking around the kitchen at the various cooking utensils.

Applejack opened the door to what Marble assumed was the pantry and placed the wooden cask inside. “Oh, you don’t need to do anythin’. Just sit tight an’ I’ll get ya somethin’ lickety split.”

Marble furrowed her brow while Applejack rummaged around the small room. She couldn’t help but feel irritation at being treated like a foal, especially by Applejack; even though she knew her cousin was just being polite, she wanted to prove herself as more than a bumbling oaf. “I can help, you know. I’m usually the one that prepares the food at home. Besides, so far all I’ve done is leech off your hospitality, and I’d like to get the chance to be useful as well.”

Applejack turned around and gave her an appraising look. “Huh,” she muttered, then grinned around the bag of oatmeal gripped in her teeth. “I kinda wish Apple Bloom had more of that attitude. Well, fair enough, how ’bout you lay the table while I get started, then?”

Marble nodded, feeling somewhat mollified. After a moment, the feeling was replaced by one of sheepish embarrassment. “Uh… where do you keep your plates?”

“Oh, they’re in the cupboard there,” Applejack said, gesturing to the one next to the sink. “We’ll be seven. You can use the tray in there to carry the cutlery.”

“Sorry, by the way,” she added as she poured water into the kettle.

Marble glanced up from the plates and cups she was stacking. “What for?”

“Didn’t mean to make ya feel useless. I sure know how much I hate that feelin’. Just didn’t seem very mannered to go askin’ for help.” Applejack gave her a wry smile. “Guess you’re the one that takes care of the food at home, then?”

“Most of the time, yeah,” Marble said with a nod. “Blinkie helps as well, though sometimes, she likes to—” She immediately shut her mouth. Her mother had not raised her to be a gossip; talking about her sister behind her back was bad. Very bad.

“Likes to… what?” Applejack asked, tilting her head.

Marble silently cursed her own big mouth. She had already said too much; leaving her cousin dangling now would only make her seem like a giant tease. She took a deep breath, hoping there were no cosmic forces that punished blabbermouths. “Well, sometimes, if Mom and Dad are a bit slow in getting to the table, she’ll sneak in little bites of food before we’re all seated.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow slightly. “That it? Shucks, I’ve done that plenty o’ times, leastways when I was a filly.”

Marble blinked in surprise at this revelation. “What? But it’s… impolite!” she blurted.

“O’course it is,” Applejack said with a smirk. “That don’t mean fillies won’t keep tryin’, though. Seems like every other day I catch ’Bloom tryin’ to pull somethin’ like that.”

“And what do you do then?” Marble asked.

Her cousin shrugged lightly. “I tell her not to do it, o’course. Or at least to try harder at not gettin’ caught if she’s gonna keep doin’ it.”

Marble did not know what to feel. On the one hoof, Applejack had openly admitted that she had been just as brazen as Blinkie in some respects, but on the other, perhaps it was Marble who just was not brazen enough. If every young filly tried that, maybe she should as well?

Applejack turned her attention to a frying pan and a couple of eggs, and Marble took the opportunity to head into the living room with the tray of plates and cups before she could give her cousin the impression that she was just being fastidious.

Making room around the table for seven ponies when it seemed to have been designed with less than that number in mind took a bit of effort, but after a few minutes of moving plates back and forth, it seemed to turn out all right, provided no one was adverse to sitting a little close.

“Table’s all set,” she said as she walked into the kitchen again, putting the tray back into its cupboard.

Applejack looked up from her work at the stove and gave her a bright smile. “Thanks, sugarcube.”

Marble almost dropped the tray. There it was again; that word. “N-no problem,” she replied, doing her best to keep her voice casual.

“I’m gonna need a few more minutes to finish up here. Why don’t you make yerself comfortable meanwhile?” Applejack said, nodding towards a smaller couch near the window.

Settling into the cushioned couch, Marble watched her cousin pour some sort of yellow liquid from a bowl onto the frying pan. It sizzled briefly, then gave off a pleasant smell. “What are you making?” she asked after a moment.

Applejack glanced over her shoulder again. “Pancakes. Can’t have a wholesome meal without ’em.” She scooped up the odd but sweet-smelling food with a spatula. The ‘pancake’ flipped end over end in the air before landing on the frying pan again.

Marble blinked; she had been mesmerised by the little display of food acrobatics. “I, uh… Pancakes?” she mumbled, feeling that familiar flush of embarrassment creep back. “We really just have oatmeal back home. Sometimes a fried egg on Sundays.”

Applejack looked at her in surprise. “You serious?”

Marble nodded mutely.

“Well, we’re gonna have to do somethin’ ’bout that,” her cousin said, beckoning her over. “Scoot on over here an’ I’ll show ya what it’s all about.”

Is there anything I do know? Marble thought glumly as she moved over to the stove.

“It’s pretty simple, really,” Applejack said with a friendly smile. “You got the batter here—” she pointed at the bowl with the yellowish liquid “—which is a mix of eggs, milk, sugar, a pinch o’ salt an’ a little somethin’ extra for flavour, like cinnamon or vanilla. Personally, I prefer cinnamon.”

Marble nodded, although she refrained from mentioning that she did not know what cinnamon was, either. She blinked when Applejack thrust the spatula into her hoof.

“So, get some butter on the pan an’ pour a good amount of batter onto it,” her cousin said, looking at her expectantly.

Marble’s eyes darted around until she located the butter—it was right in front of her—and scooped out a chunk, flicking it onto the frying pan where it immediately began to melt and sizzle. She lifted the bowl with batter and poured some of it on the pan, setting it down almost immediately afterwards. Applejack, however, apparently thought the amount insufficient and grabbed the bowl from her, tilting it again and adding another generous helping to the mixture.

“C’mon, Marble, we’re makin’ pancakes here, not paper cakes,” she said with a grin. “It needs some substance!”

Marble bit back the “sorry” that instinctively sprang to her tongue and just nodded again. Almost immediately, the batter on the pan began to stiffen and give off that pleasant aroma.

“My bad, really. I forgot you don’t really know what they’re supposed to look like,” Applejack said with an apologetic smile. “Anyway, here’s the tricky part that separates the pancake newbies from the pancake champions,” she continued, adjusting Marble’s grip on the spatula. Marble tried not to pay too much attention to the way their hooves brushed together. She was reminded of Ebony, the main character of a romance novel Blinkie had smuggled into their room, when she was being taught the graceful steps of a dance by Gallant, her paramour.

This was sort of the same, minus the ‘graceful’ and ‘dance’ parts. And the part about the two characters being romantically involved, of course. So on second thought, it was not like that at all. It was just her receiving a helping hoof from Applejack in learning how to make breakfast.

“You scoop the pancake up like this—” Marble wedged the spatula between the pancake and the pan, guided by Applejack’s hoof “—an’ then you give it a good flip to spin it around an’ catch it again on the pan. Ready? Go!”

In the book, Ebony only needed to be guided through the steps of the dance once by her dashing stallion before she knew the whole thing by heart; as it turned out in the Grand Galloping Gala chapter, the elegant mare had the flair and grace for dancing inside her all along. It just needed a chance to emerge and shine.

No such luck for Marble.

There was a wet splat as the still-liquid side of the pancake impacted with the ceiling and stuck there. Marble felt her cheeks heat up as Applejack burst into laughter, though it was warm rather than mocking, and almost infectious. “It’s not funny!” Marble protested, even as she felt a stupid grin spread over her face and little hiccups of laughter escaped her. Applejack just laughed even harder at that.

It took them several minutes to regain themselves, their laughter feeding off of the other’s mirth and causing it to flare anew just as the other neared the end. It was utterly silly and nonsensical, but neither of them could help it.

“Too much flip?” Marble asked breathlessly when they both eventually calmed down.

Applejack, who was still chuckling, wiped her eye and nodded. “Lil’ bit.”

They went on for almost an hour, perhaps even longer, but under Applejack’s patient tutelage, Marble eventually got a hang of the art of pancake flipping, although she was a far cry from being able to replicate Applejack’s expert triple-flip. By the time they were done, one pancake also decorated the wall in front of them, another had almost landed in the sink at the opposite end of the kitchen, and small bits of batter were sprinkled here and there on almost every surface of the kitchen, though Winona was doing her part in cleaning those up.

“Well, I think the others have been allowed to sleep in long enough as is,” Applejack said as they placed two full plates of lukewarm and stone-cold pancakes on the living room table. “You wanna wake up yer sis an’ her colt? The guest room’s at the far end upstairs.”

Marble nodded and followed her cousin up the stairs, continuing down the hallway when Applejack veered off to one door and began knocking on it.

Wonder what’s keeping them? Marble thought as she headed for the door to the guest room. Usually Blinkie was an early riser like her—a necessary condition when living on the rock farm—so the fact that she had not seen or heard her sister around yet worried her slightly. She hoped she was not about to walk in on her and Flint engaged in fierce and impassioned kissing.

...Again.

She knocked gently on the door and waited a moment to give them ample time to disentangle, then carefully eased the door open and peered inside. To her mild surprise, a light snoring was what greeted her. Both Blinkie and Flint were still sound asleep, but what really troubled her was the fact that they were sleeping in opposite ends of the room. Marble sighed inwardly and her ears drooped a bit; it seemed like Flint had not gotten off without an earful last night.

Marbled walked over to Blinkie’s prone form and prodded her lightly with a hoof. “C’mon, sis. Time to wake up. Breakfast’s ready.”

“Not hungry,” Blinkie grunted, wrapping her blanket more tightly around herself.

“You sure? They have pancakes.”

Blinkie rolled over and looked up at Marble with bleary eyes and a puzzled frown. “What’s a pancake?”

“You’ll have to come see for yourself,” Marble said with a little grin. “But I can tell you it smells delicious. It’s got cinnamon in it, too.”

“What’s cinnamon?”

Marble let out a sigh. “Just get up and come downstairs to eat, please? I’m hungry enough as it is without having to drag you down there by your tail.”

“When did you become so bossy?” her sister grumbled, but to Marble’s relief, she finally stirred. “Just give me a minute. I’ll get him,” she added when Marble glanced over at the still-sleeping Flint.

“See you at the breakfast table, then,” Marble said as she headed out the room, closing the door behind her in case more harsh words towards the stallion were inbound.

By the time Marble came back downstairs, Applejack and her lumbering brother were already seated at the table, the latter busy splashing some sort of amber-coloured ichor over his stack of pancakes. Winona had her snout buried in her food bowl in one corner of the room.

“Any luck?” Applejack asked as she poured herself a cup of what Marble’s nose immediately recognised as divine black coffee.

“They said they’d be down soon.” Marble hesitated for a moment, then took the seat next to Applejack.

The other mare nodded and wordlessly offered Marble a cup of coffee as well, to which she nodded. “Apple Bloom an’ Granny Smith should be down soon as well. They just—Ah, speak o’ the sun.”

A yellow filly with a beet-red mane and an oversized bow on her head trotted down the stairs, stopping at the foot and looking at Marble with surprise and curiosity. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Uh…” Marble replied eloquently, completely wrongfooted by the direct and very simple question.

“Apple Bloom, mind yer manners,” Applejack admonished the filly.

“Sorry,” Apple Bloom mumbled, then cleared her throat, straightened up and flashed a smile at Marble. “Hi there, I’m Apple Bloom. What’s your name?”

Marble gave the filly her best friendly smile. “I’m Marble. I, uhm, I’m your cousin. Very distant cousin. Like Pinkie Pie. You know her, right?” It felt strange talking to a pony younger than herself, particularly one as young as this one. Marble quickly realised she was rather bad at it.

“O’course I know her! Everypony in Ponyville knows Pinkie!” Apple Bloom gave her an appraising look. “Do you throw parties all the time, too?”

“Uh… no?” Marble mentally corrected herself; she was very bad at it.

“Why don’tcha get some grub before ya grill her, eh, ’Bloom?” Applejack said, apparently taking pity on Marble.

The filly pouted briefly before scampering off to fill her plate with food from around the table. Marble let out a little sigh of relief; she did not know what it was about Apple Bloom that made her feel so uncomfortable, but she was glad to be rid of it. Unfortunately, her respite only lasted until the filly sat down next to her.

“What’s your cutie mark mean? Do you know how I could get my cutie mark? Why’re you bein’ all jittery like Fluttershy? Did you really grow up on a rock farm? Does your cutie mark have somethin’ to do with rocks?”

“If she’s bein’ like Fluttershy, it’s probably ’cause yer houndin’ her with questions,” Applejack said with a hint of testiness in her voice. “Simmer down an’ eat yer breakfast. Scoots an’ Sweetie’ve already been by askin’ for ya.”

The last part apparently worked wonders. As if a switch had been flipped, Apple Bloom became silent as she eagerly stuffed her face with her food, seemingly barely taking the time to chew before swallowing. Marble gave Applejack a silent look of gratitude, even as she felt humiliated that she had needed rescuing from a little filly.

“Why’re the pancakes all cold?” Apple Bloom asked in between mouthfuls.

“They would’ve been warm if you’d spent less time snoozin’ an’ instead got up without me havin’ to poke ya with a stick,” the older sister replied. Apple Bloom stuck her tongue out before resuming her feeding frenzy.

A wizened mare with a pale green coat that made her look even more decrepit shambled down the stairs just as Apple Bloom flushed the last of her food down with a glass of juice and leapt out of her seat.

“Hi, Granny! Bye, Granny!” she called in passing before bolting out the door.

The old mare—who Marble could only conclude was Granny Smith—looked at the door which the filly had disappeared through, then turned her head with a creak towards the table and fixed them with a beady eye. “Did any o’ y’all put a beehive on lil’ ’Bloom’s seat or somethin’?” Her voice was not unlike the sound made by a very rusty hinge.

Applejack shook her head. “No, Granny. She’s just gone to look for her friends.”

Granny Smith turned her gaze on Marble while making her way towards the seat next to Big Macintosh. “Have I seen you ’round ’ere before, young missy?” she asked.

“No, Ma’am, I don’t think you have,” Marble said. She could deal with elderly ponies. “I just came here yesterday with my family. My name's Marble. I’m Pinkie Pie’s little sister.”

Understanding lit up in the old mare’s eyes before she turned her head towards her grandchildren with an accusatory glare. “Why didn’t either o’ you two louts mention we was gonna have family come visit? I’d’ve made preparations!”

“I did say we might be gettin’ visitors,” Applejack said in a patient voice. “But I didn’t—”

“Applejack! Didn’t ya say Scoots an’ Sweetie were here?” Apple Bloom called from the doorway, looking at her sister with a frown.

“Yeah, I said they were here. They went to the clubhouse, ’Bloom,” Applejack replied. She turned her attention back to Granny Smith, but the old mare seemed to have forgotten her being upset and was instead busying herself with a cup of tea.

Just then, Blinkie came into the living room, followed closely by Flint. Applejack waved at them with a smile and Big Macintosh gave them a friendly nod.

“Mornin’, you two. Sleep well?” Applejack asked.

Marble looked at her sister closely. Blinkie had a tendency to nourish grudges, but now she seemed almost… relaxed. She was not even glaring daggers at Flint. Marble allowed herself a tentative smile; maybe they had managed to clear the air between them of whatever troubled her sister. The hopeful feeling lasted until Blinkie turned her gaze on Big Macintosh and her eyes lit up with the familiar vindictive gleam Marble knew and dreaded.

“Oh yes, thank you, it was very nice,” Blinkie said with an expression that was nothing but friendly smiles. Flint glanced at her for a moment, but said nothing. Typical, Marble thought.

Granny Smith squinted at Blinkie as she sat down next to Marble. “You Waffle’s sister, young’un?” she asked. “You two look mighty alike.”

Applejack cleared her throat, and Marble glanced at her. For the first time since they had met, her cousin looked decidedly embarrassed. “It’s ‘Marble’, Granny. Not Waffle.”

The elder mare shot her granddaughter a sour look. “That’s what I said! Mah hearin’ ain’t so bad yet that I can’t pick up what other ponies say to me, young missy!”

In her mind, Marble could already hear the relentless teasing from Blinkie that name was likely to saddle her with. Instead, however, her sister simply smiled politely. “Yes, Ma’am. My name’s Blinkie. Your granddaughter invited us to stay.”

Granny Smith turned her gaze to Flint. “An’ what about you, kiddo?”

“Oh, I’m Flint,” he said with his habitual friendly smile. “I’m here with—”

“Big Mac, could you pass me the bread, please?” Blinkie asked in a saccharine voice, leaning forward a bit in her seat and placing her front hooves under her chin.

The larger stallion nodded and passed the bread basket to Blinkie, which she accepted with a smile that was just a little too wide. “Thank you,” she said, “I’m so hungry I feel I could eat a rock.”

“How ‘bout a pancake instead? Tastier’n a rock,” Big Macintosh replied, his expression unchangingly impassive.

“Know that from experience, do you?” Blinkie asked with a little smirk as she held out her plate towards him.

Big Macintosh’s eyes darted around, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. “Uhm… Was really hungry this one time after work…” he mumbled, placing a couple of pancakes on the plate.

Blinkie let out a dainty giggle and held a hoof to her mouth. “That’s cute,” she said with a little grin. That elicited a small blush from the stallion. She looked over at Applejack. “Is he always this funny?”

“Oh yeah, he’s a real joker when the mood takes him. Gets all the fillies swoonin’,” Applejack said with a perfectly straight face. “Right, Big Mac?”

Her brother mumbled something inaudible and turned his attention back to his own plate, though he had a tiny sheepish smile on his face.

Blinkie smiled playfully. “I’ll bet…”

Laying it on a little thick there, Blinkie, Marble thought. What exactly are you up to? She glanced at Flint, but he simply smiled good-naturedly, appearing as untroubled by the exchange as he did by practically everything else. He could probably have been seething with jealousy and Marble would not have been able to tell the difference.

The rest of the breakfast proceeded uneventfully, with some light and insubstantial chatter every now and then. Eventually, Granny Smith declared that she was retiring to her rocking chair and Big Macintosh said something about getting started on his chores.

“Y’all wanna head on over to Ponyville an’ have a look around, then?” Applejack asked as she gathered up the plates. “I’d give you a tour o’ the farm, but, y’know…” She nodded towards one of the windows through which practically nothing could be seen except thick fog. “Weather ain’t exactly favourin’ us today, either.”

“If you don’t mind? We didn’t really have a chance to look around much yesterday,” Blinkie said. She looked at Marble. “You coming too, ‘Waffle’?”

Marble hesitated. On one hoof, there had been a lot of things in Ponyville that she wanted to have a closer look at, and it seemed as if they had only seen a fraction of the town to begin with. On the other hoof, Sweet Apple Acres was in its own way just as interesting. She had never been on a genuine apple farm before, let alone knew any of the differences between apple and rock farming.

“Maybe later. I’d like to look around the farm some more first, if that’s okay,” she said, looking at Applejack for confirmation.

Her cousin looked dubious. “You sure? You ain’t gonna be able to see all that much through this dang fog, I’m afraid.”

Marble nodded firmly. “I’m sure. The weather doesn’t bother me.”

“Well, I ain’t gonna say no if you insist,” Applejack said with a little smile.

Blinkie shrugged. “Suit yourself. We’ll just go get our things and then we’ll be off. C’mon, Flint.”

The stallion dutifully followed Blinkie upstairs without a word of protest. Marble shook her head slightly and began to collect the glasses and cups, heading into the kitchen with them where Applejack was already busy rinsing the used plates.

“I’d tell you that you don’t need to help,” Applejack said with a little grin as Marble placed the glasses next to the sink and instead grabbed a towel. “But I’m startin’ to figure it ain’t much use.”

Marble shrugged lightly and smirked as she grabbed one of the cleaned plates. “I guess you’ll just have to deal with it, won’t you?”

Her cousin let out a little chuckle. “Oh no, gettin’ help with the dishes; what am I gonna do?”

Between the two of them, doing the dishes was a cinch, cleaning up the errant pancakes from the cooking lesson less so. Marble was in the middle of scraping dried bits of batter off one of the cupboards when she heard Blinkie and Flint coming back downstairs.

“Uh, actually,” Marble heard Flint say as they came down the stairs, “I need to use the bathroom real quick. Do you mind?”

“I’m not your mother, Flint. You don’t need to ask my permission for that kind of thing,” Blinkie replied with a hint of irritation in her voice.

Marble watched the stallion trot by in the direction of the bathroom, then peered out of the kitchen. Blinkie stood near the front door, tapping her hoof against the floor impatiently. She wore a pair of the sturdy saddlebags they normally used to carry small rocks in.

“I just need a minute. I’ll be right back,” Marble told Applejack. Her cousin nodded in acknowledgement, busy trying to dislodge the pancake from the ceiling.

“Hey, sis, can we talk for a moment?” she asked as she approached Blinkie.

Her sister gave a little shrug. “We’re talking right now, aren’t we?”

“Outside?” Marble pressed.

“...All right.”

Stepping out the door was a little unsettling. The thick fog made it difficult to see more than a couple of metres ahead. It reminded Marble of one particularly eerie evening when she had been working late in the south fields. At least Blinkie and her father had been able to locate her eventually by her cries for help before she stumbled into the trench where they turned rocks shards into obsidian.

“Okay, so what is it?” Blinkie asked as she closed the door behind them.

“You tell me. What was that you were doing during breakfast?” Marble replied, unable to keep a tone of accusation out of her voice.

In a strange reversal of the usual roles, it was Blinkie who shied guiltily away from Marble’s stare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said with an almost complete lack of conviction.

Marble narrowed her eyes. Her sister was barely even attempting to lie. “Is that right? Because it looked to me like you were doing that flirting thing with Big Macintosh.”

Blinkie shot her a resentful glare. “So what if I was? Flint was doing the same with that Rarity filly! I thought I’d let him feel how fun it is to see that.”

“Wait, that’s what this is about?” Marble almost let out an incredulous little laugh. “You’re upset because Flint thought Rarity is pretty? Blinkie, that’s not Flint’s fault. She is pretty!”

“Yeah, I could tell by the way both you and Flint couldn’t take your eyes off her or her pretty little horn,” Blinkie said with a sneer.

Marble felt heat building on her cheeks. Sometimes she wondered if Blinkie realised how vicious her remarks were, or if it was unintentional. Still, two could play at that game. “So Flint isn’t allowed to look at another filly ever again? Were you planning on getting him a proper pair of blinders, or were you just gonna snub him every time another mare showed up?”

Blinkie stared at her silently for a moment, her jaw working furiously but wordlessly in a manner that would have been comical had Marble not been worried her sister might be on the verge of exploding. “I… that… you…” she blurted, before letting out a sigh. “...Maybe you have a point. Perhaps I’m overreacting just a little bit.”

Marble decided to let that particular understatement go without comment. “So… do you actually like Big Macintosh?” she asked instead.

“No!” Blinkie snapped, then softened her voice a bit. “I mean, sure, he looks all right, but come on; he’s our cousin. You don’t think that’d be just a little weird?”

Marble was spared having to reply to that when Flint opened the door and peeked outside. “Oh, there you are,” he said with a smile. “I thought you’d decided to just go on ahead. What’re you doin’ out here?”

Blinkie looked over her shoulder. “Making out. What does it look like?” She gave him a little smile of her own as she walked over to him. “You ready to go, then?”

Flint nodded. “I just talked to Miss Applejack. She says if we go down to the entrance an’ take a left, we’ll come straight back into town if we just follow the road.”

“I could probably have told you that, but… sure. Let’s go, then,” Blinkie said.

The two set off and Marble watched them disappear into the mist. She caught shards of an apology from her sister to Flint and smiled to herself as she went back inside.

It turned out that Applejack was at least as industrious as any of the Pies. In the short time period that Marble had been gone, her cousin had almost managed to get the kitchen back into the same shape as when she had first arrived. The last few remaining bits of batter met their end against a well-used wet dishcloth.

“Sorry I didn’t wait around. I’ll let you take the towels to the laundry basket if ya like, though,” Applejack said with a little grin as Marble walked over to her. “That was a joke, by the way. Basket’s right over there,” she added with a nod towards wicker basket standing next to the kitchen door as Marble held out a hoof.

Marble sheepishly lowered her hoof again. “Oh. Right.” She glanced over her shoulder into the living room, where Granny Smith snored not-so-gently in her rocking chair, then looked back at Applejack. “Hey… do you mind if I ask you something?”

Applejack put the dishcloth aside and looked at her attentively. “Sure, what’s on yer mind?”

Marble hesitated; it felt rude to imply that her cousin was being dishonest, but she had to know. “You... told your sister that other ponies had come by, right?”

Applejack grunted an affirmative while she picked up a pile of dirty rags and brought them over to the hamper.

Marble nervously scuffed a hoof against the floor. “Well... It’s just... nopony came by, or at least... I didn’t see them.”

Her cousin nodded. “You’re right about that. Nopony came by. I made that up.”

Marble had a hard time fathoming something like that. If she ever lied like that, her father would tan her hide for sure. “But... why?” she asked eventually.

“Cause ya looked like ya needed some help,” Applejack said with a shrug. “Besides, I know just how much of a hoof full ’Bloom can be.”

“Won’t that make her angry with you?”

Applejack waved her hoof dismissively. “You let me worry ’bout it. I’m pretty sure I can handle mah lil’ sister, though,” she said with an easy smile. “You just make sure ya got a couple o’ quick answers ready for the next time she shows up, ‘cause I promise, she ain’t just gonna up an’ forget about them questions.”

Marble nodded slightly. “Right.” Somehow she doubted it would be as easy as that to deal with the youngest Apple sibling, but given that Marble’s own experience with little fillies was practically non-existent, she would have to trust Applejack’s expertise on that.

“So, you wanted to have a look around the property?” Applejack asked brightly. “Like I said, probably can’t see a whole lot in this darned fog, but I can show ya a bit o’ the orchard, at least.”

Marble smiled eagerly. “I’d like that. And, uh…” She hesitated a bit, feeling slightly annoyed with herself that she once again had to bare her ignorance to Applejack. “If it isn’t too much of a bother… maybe you could tell me how it all works?”

“You wanna know how to grow apples?” Her cousin looked at her with surprise, but the mocking undertone Marble had feared was absent.

She nodded. “Growing rocks is kind of boring. You usually just rotate them around the fields. Sometimes you simply watch them. I bet fruits are a lot more fun.”

Applejack let out a chuckle and smiled warmly. “Filly, you are in for a treat.”

7: Varmints in the fog

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“And they have to be pink?” Marble asked in amazement.

Applejack nodded. “Yup, an’ not just any pink, either. It’s gotta be this one particular shade o’ pink or else it don’t work.”

Marble tried to wrap her head around it all. Sure, the transmutation techniques they used back on the farm were sometimes rather elaborate, but seriously, pink polka dots?

“And… the bunny suit?”

“Hey, zap apples are zap apples,” Applejack said with a little grin. “Maybe it’s the fluffy little tail they like, I don’t know. It works, so I don’t question it. Jumpin’ ’round those waterin’ cans is good exercise, if nothin’ else, even if it’s a bit of a tight fit.”

Marble smiled. “I’d like to see that,” she said, then felt the clammy hoof of panic seize her by the throat. “I-I mean, not you specifically in a bunny suit, j-just, uh, it—it just sounds, uhm—”

Applejack chuckled. “I know what ya mean. It really is a sight for sore eyes sometimes.” A grin spread across her face. “You should see Mac doin’ it; his suit looks like it’s about to burst at the seams every time he jumps,” she said, her chuckling bubbling over into full-blown laughter. “I swear I heard a rippin’ sound last time we did it, but Mac claimed it was the onions he had last night.”

Marble giggled as well, her anxiety quelled by Applejack’s mirth. She pictured the lumbering stallion bouncing around in a bright blue bunny suit that was far too tight-fitting, complete with bendy ears and a little fluffy tail tuft. She tried very hard to keep that amusing image in her head and not think about how the mare next to her would look in the same costume.

They continued on at a sedate pace once the laughter died down, with Applejack explaining the subtle differences between the various sorts of apples they grew—of which there were apparently hundreds—and Marble listening attentively while trying to keep track of all the different varieties and their characteristics.

The whole process of growing apple was fascinating; how the trees would, with a little care and attention, sprout from seeds to tiny saplings to the fully grown versions that surrounded them; how, year after year, the same trees would bear new fruit; how they would shed their leaves for winter, and then bloom green once again come the spring. Even more amazing was how old the trees could become; some of the trees Applejack showed her had been fully grown by the time the very first settlers came here, making them more than a hundred years old. Marble knew most rocks were ancient, but rocks were not living, breathing things.

As interesting as it was, however, she couldn’t help but feel it all sounded… easy. “So… is that all there is to it?” she asked during a lull in the conversation.

Applejack gave her a puzzled look. “What do you mean ‘all there is to it’?”

“Well, it’s just…” Marble searched for the words for a moment. “It sounds like you just plant the apple trees, and then they pretty much just do their own thing.”

“Now hold on a second,” Applejack said, furrowing her brow and giving Marble an indignant look. “Just what are you implyin’ here? It ain’t nearly as easy as that! You gotta prune ’em, help ’em fight off parasites an’ fungi, make sure they get enough nutrients…”

As it turned out, apple farming was not anywhere near as simple as Marble’s father had always made it out to be. In the past, the few times she had asked him about other types of farming, he had snorted derisively and proclaimed that such ‘farmers’ were layabouts and lazy ponies who simply lounged around and let nature do all the work for them.

There were also similarities to the type of farming she was familiar with back home; the necessity of following preset cycles; the importance of making sure the trees received enough water, just as obsidian transmutations needed enough shade; and not least, the patience required to wait for the optimal time before harvesting, so as to let the rocks transmute fully or, in the case of apples, ‘ripen’, as Applejack called it.

“An’ that’s when the real hard work begins,” Applejack explained. “When the apples are good an’ ready, you gotta buck ’em from the trees. It’s exhaustin’, but it’s also the most rewardin’ part, if you ask me.”

Marble tilted her head a bit. “Buck? As in… kick them off the trees?”

Applejack nodded and smiled. “Darn tootin’. You give the tree a solid thwack with yer hooves, an’ those red beauties come right off, sure as sugar. See that one over there?” She nodded towards one of the trees around which were scattered several baskets. “We put baskets ’round the trees we’re gonna buck so the apples plop right into ’em when they fall. Makes gatherin’ up the harvest a cinch.”

“Huh. That’s clever.” Marble studied the setup for a moment. Through the fog, she could make out other trees nearby that were similarly outfitted. “Doesn’t it take a lot of time to set up all those baskets, though?”

Applejack grinned at her. “I did say it was hard work, didn’t I? Still…” She walked over to the tree and turned her back to it, raising her hindquarters and giving it a solid kick with both of her hind legs. Apples fell from the tree almost instantly, most landing in the strategically placed baskets. Applejack picked up the few that missed and deposited them with the rest. “Haven’t found a better way to do it yet,” she said with a triumphant little smirk.

“It sure seems, uh, effective,” Marble said with a slightly shaky smile. She had tried very hard not to focus too closely on the way her cousin’s muscles had played over her body during the process, but without much luck.

“You wanna give it a go as well?” Applejack asked.

Marble blinked. “Oh, uh… s-sure. Yeah, I’d like to.”

Applejack nodded approvingly, looking around the nearest trees for a moment before nodding towards one of them. “Great. Try that one over there.”

Marble smiled to herself as she walked over to the designated tree; finally something she could show her cousin she was good at. She knew she was no weakling herself, and it seemed like kicking something real hard was impossible to mess up. She turned her back to the tree, raised her rear and kicked the tree as hard as she could.

Her hooves impacted against the tree with a loud crack. Chips of bark and splinters flew. Two apples dislodged themselves from the branches, with a third following after a moment’s hesitation. It bounced off Marble’s head and landed in the grass, while the rest of the apples remained stubbornly in place.

“Not bad for a first try,” Applejack said encouragingly. “Although yer approach is a bit off. It ain’t ’bout raw force so much as it’s about hittin’ the sweet spot. Otherwise you just end up bustin’ down the poor tree.”

Marble pinned her ears against her skull as she noticed the sizeable dent she had left in the tree’s bark. “Sorry, she mumbled.

Applejack walked over to her and patted her encouragingly on the shoulder. “Aw, don’t fret. Bark grows back. Learnin’ how to buck properly takes a long time, just like anythin’ worth doin’.”

Marble could not help but smile a little. If that had been her father here, she would have received a stern reprimand to do better, not kind words.

A speck of something multicoloured in the whiteness that surrounded them on all sides caught Marble’s eyes. It dangled from the crown of one of the trees and almost looked like a rainbow.

“Oh! Applejack, is that a zap apple hanging from that tree?” she asked, excitement bubbling in her stomach. Applejack had said the zap apples only sprouted at very specific times during a year. Could she really have been lucky enough to happen by during one of those times?

“Hm? Shouldn’t be. It ain’t season yet…” Applejack followed the direction of Marble’s gaze curiously, then her lips curled in a smirk. “Ah, nah, that ain’t an apple, that’s one of them varmints we sometimes get ’round the orchard.”

“A varmint?” Marble echoed, following Applejack towards the tree. The strange colourful object swayed gently back and forth, and, on closer inspection, seemed to be made of hair.

Applejack nodded. “Pegasus varmint,” she explained in a hushed voice, creeping forward stealthily. “Darn nuisance is what they are. They’ll go Infest a tree to make a nest an’ eat a buncha apples while they’re at it. They startle real easy if ya get the drop on ’em, though.”

When they were right next to the tree, Applejack spun around and, without warning, kicked the tree with her powerful hind legs so forcefully that the entire thing shook and a small shower of apples, along with a bunch of brown leaves, drizzled from the crown.

That was not the only thing dislodged from the tree, though. With a yelp, something large and blue fell from one of the branches, flapping its wings in a frantic but fruitless attempt to get airborne. It landed in the grass with a soft thud.

“Ow! Not cool, AJ!” the ‘varmint’ complained in a raspy, yet undeniably feminine voice.

“If you don’t like it, you should stick to yer cloud beds,” Applejack replied flatly.

“Yeah, well, cloud beds don’t come with snacks within hoof’s reach,” the pegasus said as she picked herself up from the ground and dusted herself off. The tuft of hair Marble had seen dangling from the tree was her tail, which had the same remarkable colouration as her mane. The pegasus blew a rasp at Applejack, then seemed to notice Marble for the first time. “Who’s that?” she asked.

Applejack took a step forward. “This is mah cousin Marble. She’s Pinkie’s sister.” She looked at Marble and indicated the pegasus with a hoof. “Marble, this feathered freeloader here is Rainbow Dash. I guess I gotta ’fess that she’s a friend of mine.”

The pegasus’ eyes turned from curious to strangely concerned. “You’re… Pinkie’s sister? You, uh… feeling all right? You’re not gonna hit me, are you?” she asked warily.

The strange question left Marble flabbergasted for a moment. “Wh-what?” she managed to sputter. “Why would I want to hit you?”

Applejack furrowed her brow at Rainbow. “What kinda question is that, Dash?”

The pegasus held up a hoof in a warding gesture. “Hey, don’t get mad. It’s just…” She glanced at Applejack. “Well, you remember what happened last time Pinkie had a straight mane?”

Applejack gave the pegasus a flat look. “She ain’t Pinkie,” she retorted. “Besides, Twilight’s got a straight mane too, an’ she hasn’t gone crazy-scary before.”

Rainbow Dash let out a snort. “Uhh, hello? Remember the Smarty Pants doll?”

“...Fair point,” Applejack admitted after a moment’s thought.

Marble looked from one pony to the other with increasing frustration and worry at the mention of the strangely ominous-sounding incident. “What are you two going on about? Has Pinkie hit somepony? And who’s Twilight?”

“Oh, Twilight’s one of our friends. Really nice and smart, but she can be kinda geeky at times,” the pegasus replied casually. “And, well, there was that one spell with the parasprites, or the time she turned Fluttershy into a fruitbat—”

“Gee, Dash, I bet Twi would be mighty pleased to hear how well ya speak of her,” Applejack said with a snort and a roll of her eyes.

Rainbow Dash paused mid-sentence and looked at her hooves guiltily for a moment. “Oh. Right... sorry.”

“Don’t apologise to me; Twilight’s the one you’re foulmouthin’.” Applejack turned towards Marble. “What Dash means to say is that while Twilight can be kinda… eccentric, she’s one of the nicest ponies yer ever gonna find.”

Marble looked from one to the other, still feeling somewhat uncertain. From the mention of spellcasting, she had to assume this ‘Twilight’ was a unicorn, and the descriptions of what she had done made her sound very much like the type of dangerous and reckless pony her dad had always said unicorns were. Then again, Rarity was a unicorn as well, and she had been nothing but friendly and charming. Unless that was some kind of spell she had cast, too…

“So what was that about Pinkie?” she asked instead, the other glaring issue at hoof.

Rainbow Dash and Applejack exchanged looks before the latter spoke up. “Well… I’m guessin’ you know firsthoof how much Pinkie likes throwin’ parties, right?”

Marble nodded. “Sure. That was how she got her cutie mark.” A little smile tugged at her lips at the memory of that first party. The smile was quickly replaced by a concerned frown when the obvious question arose. “What does that have to do with Pinkie hitting other ponies?”

“Well, she never hit anypony, but…” Applejack paused, seemingly unsure how to proceed.

“This one time, she’d just thrown a party for Gummy,” Rainbow Dash said. “He’s Pinkie’s pet alligator. Toothless little—”

“She knows,” Applejack interjected. “She already met him. Or heard him, rather.”

Marble nodded in confirmation.

“Right. So, Pinkie wanted to throw an after-party for Gummy the next day,” the pegasus explained, shifting her weight from hoof to hoof. “Thing is, she’d completely forgotten it was her own birthday, and we wanted to surprise her with a party as well. That meant we had to explain why we couldn’t go to Gummy’s so we'd have time to set everything up. Pinkie got suspicious, even though our excuses were all rock solid—” Applejack rolled her eyes, but said nothing “—but she got it into her head that we were avoiding her because we didn’t like her parties or something.”

Marble felt a growing unease in her stomach; Pinkie had never seemed more alive than when she was hosting a party. When their dad had told her that she was ‘wasting’ too much time trying to celebrate irrelevant little things and that parties were only to be held for special occasions like birthdays, Pinkie had been despondent for weeks.

“She kinda went off her rocker—”

“Rainbow!” Applejack shot the pegasus a reproachful look.

“Well, she did! You saw her!” Rainbow Dash replied defensively. Applejack’s lips pressed into a tight frown, but she said nothing further. “Anyway,” the pegasus continued, turning her attention back to Marble. “I went to get her to come over to the farm here where we’d prepared everything. I went to her room and—” She flicked her tail nervously and let out a little shudder. “Well, she was sitting there around the table with a bucket of turnips, a clump of lint, a bag of flour and a pile of rocks. She had this creepy look in her eyes and her mane was all straight and limp like yours.”

Marble self-consciously touched the tips of her mane with a hoof for a moment before something clicked in her head. “Wait, did those things she was with have names?” she asked, the question sounding silly even as it left her lips.

Rainbow Dash nodded, which did little to reassure her. “Yeah, something like Madame le Flour and Rocky. Why?”

“Something similar happened back home once…” Marble said carefully. “What happened then?”

The pegasus began to pace back and forth. “She said something about how those were her real friends and she did voices for them and all… I had to drag her over to Sweet Apple Acres by her tail. My jaw hurt the rest of the day.”

“Turns out she’d misunderstood us bein’ all secretive as us wantin’ to boot her outta Ponyville,” Applejack said with a little shake of her head. “She even tried to claim the birthday party we’d prepared for her was her own farewell party. Luckily, she came ’round right quick after we explained how things really were.”

“And she’s been all right since then?” Marble asked.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Rainbow Dash said with a nod. “Although we’ve kinda learned that a straight mane means something’s seriously messed up with her.” She gave Marble another hesitant look. “So… you’re absolutely sure you—”

“Yes!” Marble snapped, more harshly than she had intended and she immediately regretted it. “Sorry. Uhm, yes, I’m fine. We might look alike, but I’m not all that much like my sister.” That simple admission, truthful though it was, brought a little stab of sadness to her heart. She did her best not to let it show, though.

If either of the two other mares noticed anything, they seemed disinclined to press the issue. “So, uh, I heard something about a ‘festival’ that Pinkie is planning. What’s that all about?” Marble asked in an attempt to switch topics to something less personal.

“That’s a bit of a longer story,” Applejack said, picking up a couple of the apples that had fallen down along with Dash and depositing them in a nearby basket. “Y’see, every fall, Dash an’ I have this little competition between us, doin’ all kinds of athletic contests an’ whatnot. Usually draws a pretty sizeable audience.”

“But this year, we decided to make it waaay bigger and open it up to everypony!” Rainbow interjected, snatching one of the apples before Applejack could get to it. “To try and get others to join in on the fun.”

“So Twilight gets her head together with Ponyville’s mayor an’ works out the idea of havin’ a festival together with the competitions, an’ Pinkie gets put in charge of it, seein’ as parties are kinda like her thing. Plan is to put it up on an open field near the farm.” Applejack nodded her head towards the pegasus. “Dash here’s been workin’ with some of her cronies from the weather patrol team to get things set up. Speakin’ of which…”

Rainbow looked at Applejack warily as the latter narrowed her eyes slightly. “What?”

Applejack made a sweep of her hoof to encompass the fog surrounding them. “What’s up with all the foul weather lately? You got a misplaced cloud shipment from the weather factory again or somethin’?”

“Weather factory?” Marble asked, unable to contain her curiosity. She knew pegasi had something to do with the weather, but the idea that it was produced in some kind of industry was new to her.

Rainbow glanced at her and nodded. “The one in Cloudsdale, yeah. We get all our stuff from there.” She turned her attention back to Applejack and gave her a slightly sour glare. “And don’t get a lemon under your tail. I’m just getting all the bad weather out of the way so it’ll be clear for the competition.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Ain’t that against the rules or somethin’? Changin’ around the schedule like that?”

“I got a few favours to cash in on,” Rainbow replied with a shrug. “Besides, it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve ever done something like this. Nopony ever checks up on it, anyway.”

“Huh… Fair enough, then.” Applejack gave the pegasus a little smile. “Sorry I snapped at ya. That’s actually pretty smart thinkin’.”

“I know, right?” Rainbow said with a smug smirk, then looked over at Marble. “Anyway, I don’t really know what Pinks is planning, other than it’s big. My gang and I just do the heavy lifting.”

Marble nodded, storing away the dozen questions she had about the so-called weather factory for later. “You said it was going to be near here?”

“Yup, on a field over yonder, back the way we came,” Applejack said, pointing. Marble had no idea if that was the way they had actually come, but she assumed Applejack knew her own farm well enough to find her way around even in conditions like this.

“If it’s not too much of a bother… could we take a look?” Marble asked, looking at her cousin hopefully. “I’d like to see what it is Pinkie is planning. I-if you have other plans, I won’t mind, though,” she hurriedly added.

To her relief, Applejack simply smiled. “Sure thing. It ain’t too much of a walk gettin’ there. Afraid there probably ain’t too much to look at yet. We only just got started settin’ it up.”

Marble nodded. “That’s okay. I’d still like to see it anyway.”

“Well, all right, then.” Applejack glanced at Rainbow. “You reckon you can get rid of the fog ’round here, RD? Ain’t much point goin’ for a look if it ain’t possible to see squat.”

Rainbow shrugged lightly. “Sure. It’s almost time to get rid of it, anyway.” The smug expression from before slid back onto her face. “Watch and be amazed.”

Without waiting for a reply, the pegasus took off from the ground and disappeared before either Marble or Applejack could point out that it was rather hard to watch her through the fog. Applejack began to walk back the way she had indicated.

“Shouldn’t we wait for her?” Marble asked uncertainly even as she fell in step with her cousin.

Applejack shook her head. “Nah, she’ll catch up to us in no time. Dash can be quick as lightning when the mood takes her.”

As they walked, the fog began to drift as if buffeted by wind. Marble faltered in her step and watched in amazement as the haze began to swirl and rise from the ground. As it lifted, trees upon trees came into view, the orchard stretching in seemingly every direction. Her mouth went slack as she looked up and saw the vortex in the sky above them, sucking up the fog into an ever-expanding white cloud. It was orbited by a speeding projectile that left behind a rainbow-coloured contrail.

“’Kay, now she’s just showin’ off,” Applejack commented next to her. Marble glanced at her and self-consciously closed her mouth when she noticed that her cousin was largely unaffected by the display, save for an expression of mild amusement.

Suddenly, the blur that Marble assumed was Rainbow Dash took off in one direction faster than any creature had the right to move. The humongous low-hanging cloud drifted after her for a moment, then stopped.

“Keep yer eyes peeled now. Looks like it’s time for the finale,” Applejack said.

Marble was about to ask what she meant when Rainbow Dash can speeding past overhead just above the treetops, whipping up a small storm of dead leaves in her wake. Once she was underneath the cloud, she pulled up sharply, punching through the centre of the cloud. It came apart and exploded into a hundred small clouds that drifted every which way.

Marble’s eyes felt as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. She had never seen anything like this before. She looked around the sky frantically, trying to catch sight of the pegasus. Then she saw her, a small dot that grew as it rapidly approached, turning into a grinning Rainbow Dash who landed elegantly on the ground in front of them.

“Aaand done. Pretty good time, huh?” Rainbow said with a grin, tossing her mane.

Marble’s father had often said that getting unduly excited about something was the hallmark of impressionable foals, but right now, there was absolutely nothing she could do to help herself. “That was amazing!” she whooped.

Rainbow’s grin grew even wider. “Told ya.”

“Not too shabby,” Applejack said, looking up at the sky appreciatively with a little smile. “But you weren’t as fast as usual, so I’mma have to give it a three, maybe four out of five.”

Rainbow stuck her tongue out at Applejack. “As if! That was at least a four-and-a-half!”

Applejack chuckled and shook her head a little. Her smile grew even wider as she looked at Marble. “Well, look at that; if that don’t prove you an’ Pinkie are related, I don’t know what does.”

Marble belatedly realised she was bouncing in place much like her sister always did and immediately stopped as her excitement was engulfed by the familiar feeling of embarrassment.

“Aw, I didn’t say ya had to stop, sugarcube,” Applejack said, her smile turning into a playful grin.

Marble fought the urge to groan as the heat on her cheeks intensified, accompanied by a strange but not altogether unpleasant flutter in her stomach. She suddenly found herself quite unable to meet those warm green eyes. She almost felt a little frustrated; it was as if Applejack was intentionally trying to wrongfoot her.

“Ha ha, very funny,” she muttered, shooting a glare down at her treacherous hooves.

Applejack nodded sagely. “I thought so too. That’s why I had to point it out.”

Marble tried to give Applejack her best withering stare, but her cousin just grinned in an infuriatingly disarming manner that made it impossible to put as much venom into the glare as Marble wanted.

“Hey, what else could I do when ya gave me an openin’ like that on a silver platter?” Applejack nudged her shoulder playfully against Marble, which did not help in the slightest. “I’ll knock it off if it bothers ya too much, though. It’s all just in good fun.”

“Please?” Marble asked. It almost sounded a little pathetic. Not for the first time, she wished she had Blinkie’s sharp tongue; then she would have been able to nail Applejack with a biting retort.

“I’ll do mah best, although I can’t promise nothin’ if ya go an’ surprise me like that again,” Applejack said, though Marble could not tell whether she was joking or not.

“Still no poofy mane, though,” Rainbow commented. “I think we gotta try harder next time.”

Marble was starting to feel a little offended; sure, at times she might wish she was more like Pinkie, but she did not actually want to be her.

“I happen to like my mane the way it is,” she said defensively, even as she had to stop herself from subconsciously reaching up to touch it.

The pegasus shrugged lightly. “Suit yourself. Fussing over hairstyles is really more Rarity’s thing, anyway. I’m just saying, when Pinkie’s mane is like that, it’s—” She paused mid-sentence as Applejack looked at her pointedly. “Forget it, let’s just move on,” she finished,

“Let’s,” Marble agreed, careful not to let the simmering anger slip into her voice and doing her best to swallow it.

They lapsed into silence as they walked through the orchard, Applejack in the middle between Marble and Rainbow Dash. You’re just stellar at making good first impressions, aren’t you, Marb? she thought sourly. Her propensity for curling up like a hedgehog seemed to be doing a great job at spoiling what she felt certain Applejack had intended as a nice little introduction to one of her friends. The two of them certainly seemed to be close, though in a different way than Applejack and Rarity seemed to be. The former two acted more like Marble and Blinkie might do on a good day, bantering in a joking manner, while the latter two were more…

The only word she could think of was ‘flirtatious’, but nothing Applejack had said about the unicorn had implied they were close the same way Blinkie and Flint were. Maybe it was just her imagination? Perhaps that easy and carefree behaviour was simply how normal ponies interacted. Pinkie had certainly been very physical when she met them again, much more so than Marble could recall any of them ever being back home. Maybe that was something her sister had picked up from the city ponies?

“You hear that?” Applejack asked suddenly as they neared the farmhouse. It took Marble a moment to figure out what her cousin meant, but then she heard it too; an unmistakable high-pitched energetic voice.

“Sounds like Pinkie,” Rainbow said, somewhat unnecessarily. She listened for a moment. “And sounds like she’s putting on her tour-guide routine.”

Applejack’s face contorted into a grimace. “Shoot, already?”

Marble glanced at her. “You were expecting her to show up?”

Applejack nodded. “I told her I’d give you an’ yer kin a tour of the farm, but I didn’t expect her to just show up outta the blue.” She flashed a little grin at Marble. “Guess I kinda spoiled it for ya already, though.”

“I can pretend to forget what you said if you want to tell it again,” Marble offered helpfully. The prospect of hearing Applejack say the same things she had already told once was not all that unappealing; she had a very pleasant voice, and there was great passion in it when she spoke about matters she seemed to enjoy.

“I’ll keep yer offer in mind,” Applejack said with a little chuckle, causing an involuntary smile to form on Marble’s lips. “Let’s go find ’em, in any case. Sounds like Pinkie’s in a chipper mood, at least.”

They found her in front of the barn with her parents, gesturing vividly with her hooves as she spoke. “...And they got this neat pulley system to lift the loads up to the attic! It’s really cool! I got Applejack to give me a lift on it this one time, and you get a great view of the whole orchard up there! And there’s so much stuff in the attic, too! They’ve got everything a real farm needs!”

Her mother was at least making an effort to seem interested. Mr Pie, however, studied the barn with a scowl on his face. “So this is your idea of a ‘real farm’ then, is it?” he demanded, turning his attention to Pinkie after a few moments of looking around.

As Marble got closer, she could see the strain written across Pinkie’s face; her eyes flickered before the steady gaze of her father, her smile wavering. Her whole posture seemed frail and brittle, as if it might crack and crumble at any moment. “I-I didn’t mean it like that! I just—”

“I can see how simple rock farming isn’t good enough for you anymore,” Mr Pie went on, heedless of Pinkie’s words. “No, you’re moving up in the world. Related to fruit farmers now.” He snorted derisively. “Fruit farmers who haven’t seen fit to grace us commoners with their presence, either.”

“Lookin’ fer me, Mister?” Applejack asked, walking ahead of the other two towards Mr Pie in a casual manner, though her mouth was set in a thin frown. Rainbow Dash looked far less restrained; her tail swished back and forth aggressively, her ears laid back against her skull, and she was… stalking forward, for lack of a better word.

Mr Pie turned to face them, looking thoroughly unenthused. “If I gotta speak with somepony here, I’d rather it be the head of the household. Kindly go fetch him,” he said coolly.

“I’m the best yer gonna get. You wanna talk, you can talk to me,” Applejack replied evenly.

They glared at each other for a moment, and Marble felt the same tense atmosphere from last evening again. “I’m not interested in bandying words with a belligerent fruit-farming filly,” he spat. “Get your father. Now.”

A small but noticeable change washed over Applejack. Her body tensed, her eyes narrowed, and the very air around her seemed to grow frosty.

“Uhm, Dad?” Pinkie said carefully. “Applejack is—”

“Be silent, Pinkie!” Mr Pie snapped, not even bothering to look at his daughter, who visibly shrank back at his words.

“Hey, who the heck do you think you are, talking to Pinkie like that?!” Rainbow all but yelled, flaring her wings and stomping towards the old stallion.

Mr Pie shot her an unimpressed look. “I’m her father, and unless you are somehow related to her or this filly here—” he nodded towards Applejack “—kindly stay out of this; it doesn’t concern you, pegasus.”

“The hell it does!” Rainbow barked. “You talk to Pinkie like that again, you’ll be picking up your teeth off the ground for a week!”

“Please! Don’t fight!” Pinkie pleaded, looking to be on the verge of tears. Neither Rainbow or Mr Pie seemed to pay her any attention.

Marble wanted to intervene, but she found herself tongue-tied and her hooves rooted to the spot by a lifetime of ingrained deference to her parents. She looked urgently at her mother, silently willing her to step in and try to rein Mr Pie in, but she simply remained silent behind the stallion, as useless as—

As useless as me. The thought filled her with shame and self-loathing.

Her father spat—spat!—on the ground right between Rainbow’s front hooves and shot her a contemptuous look. “I didn’t come here to be insulted by ruffians and dirt farmers,” he growled, “and I’m sure you’ve got excrements to dish out to your precious trees. So how about—”

“They’re not dirt farmers!”

It was not until she felt her father’s piercing gaze boring into her eyes that Marble realised she was the one who had spoken up. Her mouth seemed to move on its own accord, words spilling from her lips. “They’re not dirt farmers,” she repeated. “And you’re wrong about fruit farming!” Marble felt a heady rush of emotions; it was as if liquid strength coursed through her veins. Confidence washed away fear. She felt angry, she felt powerful, and she would make her father hear her! “Applejack told me about—”

“Shut up, Marble,” her father said sharply, anger warring with disappointment on his face. Her mother looked at her as well, though she seemed more surprised than anything else. “Nopony asked for your input.”

And just like that, the spell was broken, crushed. All the fire and strength drained from Marble in an instant, and all she was left with was a mouth still open, waiting to utter words that would not come.

“Sir,” she heard Applejack say. There was a faint tremor in her cousin’s normally so steady voice. “I’m only gonna say this once: Either apologise an’ change yer tone, or get the heck offa mah property. Now.”

Marble forced her head to the side to look at Applejack. Unlike Rainbow, who was so livid that she was shaking and her teeth were bared at Mr Pie, Applejack stood tall and stoic, but her eyes were utterly bereft of warmth, which somehow looked even more frightening.

Mr Pie regarded them for a moment, then snorted and turned around without another word. Mrs Pie followed him silently, casting one more glance at Marble as she passed by, but Marble could not meet her eye.

“Really? You’d rather just walk off than say you’re sorry?!” Rainbow called after Mr Pie, but there was no response. The only thing that kept her from chasing after him was the fact that her tail was gripped firmly by Applejack’s teeth. Not that it kept her from trying.

“Dashie, please…” Pinkie said in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. It trembled, threatening to break. “Dad doesn’t—Dad doesn’t mean—” Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked from Rainbow to Applejack, then to Marble. “I-I didn’t mean for it to be like this…”

It was Applejack who moved first, putting a foreleg around Pinkie in an awkward hug. “We know, Pinkie,” she said gently with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. “It wasn’t yer fault.”

Marble looked at them for a moment. She was the sister; she should have been the one to comfort Pinkie first. Why, then, had it been so hard to force her body into motion?

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” she said lamely, still unable to close the distance between herself and Pinkie.

Rainbow shot a dark look after the parents. “I swear, if that old wretch talks to you like that again, I’ll kick his—”

Pinkie rounded on the pegasus and shook her head frantically. “No! Please! Don’t! No fighting! Dad is just a bit grumpy because I woke them up with confetti and cake!”

Rainbow furrowed her brow in puzzlement. “How’s that a bad thing?”

Pinkie wrung her hooves anxiously. “Uhm… I kinda maybe used the Party Cannon for the confetti, and Dad said Mom nearly had a stroke…”

“Oh.”

Marble wanted to ask what a ‘Party Cannon’ was, but words were being as slippery as soap. Applejack was being a further distraction; something seemed to have gone out of her during that conversation, left her just a little diminished in vitality. It seemed to have happened when Marble’s father had mentioned—

Something clicked in Marble’s head, a connection that was painfully obvious in hindsight: Applejack had mentioned four of them living at the farm; herself, her two siblings and their grandmother, but hadn’t made any mention of her parents.

Marble bit her lower lip. Perhaps she was jumping to conclusions, assuming too much, but that strained look on Applejack’s face…

“Uhm, you two have time later, right?” Pinkie asked carefully. It took Marble a moment to realise her sister was talking to her as well as Applejack.

“I, uh… I think so?” Marble ventured, glancing at Applejack for confirmation. Her cousin nodded.

“Should have, yeah. What’s on yer mind, Pinkie?”

“Well, uhm, the thing is…” Pinkie awkwardly tapped her front hooves together, sitting on her haunches. “I had planned this dinner for the whole family; the three of us, Blinkie, Flint, Mr and Mrs Cake and Mom and Dad.” She looked guiltily at Rainbow. “Uh, s-sorry, Dashie, do you want to come too? You could be honorary family, if you’d like to…”

Rainbow shook her head firmly. “Yeah, no thanks, Pinks. I don’t really think that’d be a good idea. It’s, erhm, nice of you to ask, though, but I think I’d just end up doing something we’d all regret.”

“Oh, okay. That’s… good, I think? I just didn’t want you to feel left out. You don’t feel left out, do you?” she asked urgently, to which the pegasus shook her head. “Okay, good… So, uh—” she turned her attention back to Marble and Applejack “—it’s gonna be really nice, I think. I mean, I hope. I mean, I know! We’ll eat and talk and have a tasty dessert and talk some more, and then everypony can be good friends. Right?” Her head swiveled from one to the other, an almost pleading look in her eyes.

Marble exchanged glances with Applejack. Her cousin looked as uncertain as Marble felt.

“Pinkie, I… think I gotta echo Dash here; I don’t think this is a good idea,” Applejack said slowly, evidently picking her words carefully. “Yer pa an’ I don’t really see eye to eye. I don’t want to cause ya problems.”

“That’s just because you two don’t know each other well enough yet! If you’d just get a chance to sit down and talk, really talk, I’m sure you’d get along perfectly!” Pinkie said with a desperate tinge in her voice. To Marble, it sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as Applejack. It did not seem to be working in the latter’s case.

“Pinkie—”

“And if talking doesn’t work, then maybe a game of pin the tail on the pony! Or a seven-legged race! Or you can make friendship cupcakes with each other’s cutie mark as decoration! I’ve never met anypony where the friendship cupcakes didn’t work!”

Applejack took a half-step away from Pinkie. “I really don’t think—”

“Please, Applejack!” Pinkie got down on her knees in front of Applejack, gripping her right front hoof with both her own. Applejack almost shied away, but did not seem to have the heart to simply pull her hoof from Pinkie’s grasp. “Please say yes! For me! Please?”

Applejack glanced back over her shoulder, and Marble realised her cousin was looking for her opinion. Perhaps she thought Marble knew of a way to convince Pinkie of the sheer hopelessness of her plan? Marble wanted to agree with Applejack; her sister’s idea was so detached from reality that it might as well be a fanciful dream. Sticking their father and Applejack in the same room was probably the last thing they should do, and that was before adding the volatile Blinkie into the mix; there was still the unresolved matter of the letters.

Despite all that, she could not bring herself to crush her sister’s hopes, however unreal they were. Pinkie was clinging to Applejack’s hoof like a drowning pony to a raft. It… it would be too much to say no. Still, was that not simply cruel mercy? Humouring Pinkie’s flights of fancy even when Marble knew full well that there was no conceivable way it could end well? She…

She was being weak again. Damn it all, she was being weak again. She could not say no.

Applejack looked back at Pinkie with a torn expression. “I’m sorry, Pinkie,” she said, gently trying to pry her hoof loose. Pinkie’s ears fell, her front legs dropping limply to the ground as Applejack’s hoof slipped from her grasp, her expression utterly forlorn. It was too much. “I just don’t see—”

“Wait!” Marble said quickly, stepping up to her sister. Three pairs of eyes turned to look at her. No backing out now. “We’ll be there,” she said with all the firmness she could muster.

Pinkie’s eyes lit up with hope, perfect to be snuffed out like a candle, and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “R-really?”

Marble smiled back at her, even though it felt tainted by falsehood. “Really.”

Applejack looked anything but pleased, though she nodded slowly when Pinkie looked at her again. “If it makes ya happy,” she said in a defeated voice.

Pinkie swept them both into a crushing hug, one leg around each neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’ve no idea how happy this makes me! Oh, I know I can make this work, I just know it!”

The embrace was almost painful, but in Marble’s mind, that discomfort was the least of what she deserved. The brighter the spark that had ignited in Pinkie glowed, the more Marble felt convinced she had just made a terrible mistake.

“I’ve got to go and get everything set up!” Pinkie said, letting go of them and taking a step back. The tentative smile she had worn had bloomed into a happy grin. “Lots to do, lots to prepare! Can you try to be at Sugarcube Corner at around… six-ish sharp-ish? That’d be great!”

“Y-yeah. We’ll do that…” Marble mumbled, rubbing her aching neck.

“Super! I’ll see you then!” Pinkie gave all three of them another hug individually before turning around and heading the way her parents had gone. The bouncy spring was back in her step.

Silence hung in the air for a bit in the wake of Pinkie’s departure, though Marble was sure they all thought the same thing.

“This ain’t gonna go well,” Applejack said eventually. Marble had never heard a statement that rang more forebodingly in her ears.

She swallowed. “I know.”

Applejack looked at her. “Then why’d ya say yes?” Neither her voice nor her eyes were accusatory, only questioning.

Marble hesitated. Because I’m not as strong as you are. Because I hope Father is a better pony than that. Because… “Because…” she said slowly, “because there was no right answer, but at least this way, she knows we’re on her side.”

“I don’t know,” Rainbow said dubiously. “You sure it isn’t just giving her support to make a mistake?”

Applejack turned to look after Pinkie as the revitalised mare disappeared down the road after her parents. “Bein’ a good friend means ya gotta know when to say ‘no’ at times.” A little sigh escaped her lips. “But ya gotta stand by yer family through thick an’ thin, too.” She shook her head sadly. “Either way is gonna cause her pain. I guess the best we can do is try an’ be there for her.”

“Yeah…” Marble said softly, doubt gnawing at her like a festering wound.

8: Laying the foundation

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“What a total jerkface! I can’t believe he talked to Pinkie like that! I mean, what kind of dad does that? Mine sure doesn’t!”

Marble only paid half an ear’s mind to Rainbow’s angry tirade as they walked. Even though it stung her a little every time the pegasus called her dad names, most of her attention was on Applejack walking next to her. Her cousin’s expression was gloomy and pensive, eyes focused on no particular spot a few feet in front of her.

“That old idiot deserves a good kick or ten to get some sense beaten into him! I know I’d love to give them to him!”

Luckily, Rainbow seemed perfectly capable of keeping her own conversation going without input from the other two. She flew ahead of them, then veered off to the right to deliver a mid-air kick to a tree—dislodging only a few sodden leaves—then landed on the ground to stomp forward angrily for a few steps before taking off again.

Marble edged a little closer to her cousin. “Applejack? You all right?” she asked in a low voice. Stupid question. Of course she’s not all right. Just look at her!

“Been better,” Applejack replied in little more than a mutter.

“—stupid hat down his throat and—”

“You, uh…” Marble glanced over at the ranting pegasus for a moment. “You wanna talk about it?”

Applejack raised her gaze to look at her, a wan smile on her lips. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. Just old naggin’ thoughts.”

“Are you sure? Maybe talking about it will make you feel better. I really want to help you if I can, and I…” Shush! She already said it’s fine! Don’t make a fool of yourself again! “I’m good at listening,” she finished lamely.

“—pull that stick out of his—”

“I’m fine, sugarcube, really,” Applejack said, though her smile became a little more sincere. “I’ll tell ya if ya really wanna hear. It ain’t really a secret. Mind waitin’ until later, though?”

Marble nodded hastily. “S-sure. No problem. Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry—”

“You always this nervous, or just when talkin’ to me? I just said it’s okay.” Marble almost flinched at the words, but there was no barb in her cousin’s tone, nor had her smile diminished.

“Right. S—” Marble almost bit her tongue. “Right,” she finished with a nod.

“—and he’ll regret ever talking to her like that.”

With Rainbow finally running out of steam for her one-pony conversation, quiet fell over the orchard again. A couple of birds fluttered from treetop to treetop, cawing at one another. Eventually, the path led them to an open field largely devoid of green. There were patches of grass here and there, but most of the ground was bare, and had in places turned into rain-filled puddles of mud.

“Well, here we are, then,” Applejack said, indicating the field with a sweep of her hoof. Marble looked around carefully, in case there was something she was missing, but no matter how hard she strained her eyes, nothing about the field made it seem particularly festive. The only thing out of the ordinary was a stack of… something hidden away beneath a blue tarp.

Despite Applejack’s earlier warning, Marble couldn’t help but feel a tad disappointed. “But there’s nothing here…”

“Well, I did tell ya there weren’t much to look at yet. Still, this is where it’s all gonna be at.” Applejack shot a dubious look at one of the pools of mud. “Although those might be a problem. You really had to make it rain that much, RD?”

“Didn’t we already go over this?” Rainbow said with a hint of exasperation. “Look, it’s fine, we’ll just… wind-dry it, or have Twi burn it dry with a fire spell, or something.”

“We could fill it up with gravel,” Marble suggested. Both the other mares turned to look at her. “I mean, maybe it’s not ideal, but it’d give a somewhat flat and stable surface to work with.”

Applejack nodded thoughtfully. “Hmm… yeah, that’d work. Good thinkin’, Marb,” she said, smiling approvingly, and Marble felt a little flush of pride.

“Okay, but where do we get gravel, then? We don’t exactly have piles of it just lying around,” Rainbow said, hovering a few feet off the ground.

“Actually, that river between here and the city should have more than enough,” Marble replied, pleased to be able to contribute for once. “Gravel tends to collect naturally along the bottom or the banks.”

Rainbow furrowed her brow a little. “So we have to go diving for river rocks?”

“What, you got a problem with swimmin’ now?” Applejack asked with a wry grin, then looked over at Marble. “I guess if Dash here’s afraid of a bit of water, we’ll just have to do it ourselves.”

“Hey!” Rainbow pointed a hoof accusingly at Applejack. “I’m not afraid of water! I just don’t wanna do it!”

Applejack raised an eyebrow and smirked. “If you ain’t afraid, then prove it”

“Fine!” The pegasus twisted around and looked about to head for the river, but before she could flap her wings once, Applejack grabbed her by the tail and pulled her back down.

“I’m just messin’ with ya, RD,” Applejack said, chuckling. “Gosh, yer so easy to rile up sometimes.”

Rainbow stuck out her tongue and blew a rasp at the farmpony in response.

“Anyway, we should probably go find Twi, see how the preparations are comin’.” Applejack smiled at Marble. “Ya didn’t get a chance to meet her when y’all were comin’ into town, did ya?”

Marble shook her head. “The only unicorn we saw was a green one named… Lyre or Lyra or something, I think. Apart from Rarity, I mean.”

“Well, I think you’ll like her. She’s one of the nicest ponies I know,” Applejack said as she lead the way back towards the farmhouse.

“Just don’t ask her about anything science-y,” Rainbow added, giving Marble a serious look. “She’ll never stop talking. Ever.”

“Reminds me of a certain pegasus an’ the Wonderbolts.” Applejack tilted her head thoughtfully. “What was her name again?”

Rainbow let out a little snort. “Ha, ha, point taken.”

The walk back to the farmhouse was spent with light banter being exchanged between Applejack and Rainbow, and by the time they crossed the river on the road towards Ponyville, the gloomy pall the conversation with Marble’s father had draped over them had all but evaporated. Rainbow was—despite Applejack’s earlier teasing—excitedly telling them about her experiences at the Wonderbolts Academy and how ‘amazingly awesome’ it was to be able to be around the greatest fliers in all of Equestria on a daily basis.

Although Marble listened with interest to the pegasus’ vivid descriptions, she couldn’t help but find the whole thing somewhat alien, even without taking the idea of an academy the size of a small town floating in the sky into account. Even just the idea of a school was foreign to her; she knew most foals attended one, of course, but she and Blinkie had been homeschooled by their mother.

Ponyville was definitely more lively at this time. As they walked through the town, they came across numerous ponies of all three races, most of whom cheerfully greeted Applejack and Rainbow. Occasionally they came across strange taciturn pony-like creatures that Applejack told Marble were called ‘donkeys’. She was inclined to chalk those up as the strangest creatures she had seen until they came to the town plaza, which had, in the light of day, become a vibrant marketplace.

Standing in front of a stall selling fish was something Marble would have been inclined to call a monster had it not been chatting amicably with the owner of the stall, a scraggly-bearded earth pony stallion. It had the upper body and forelegs of an overgrown bird of prey and the backside of some kind of enormous feline. Marble only realised she had been staring at the being, mouth agape, when Applejack discreetly pushed her jaw back up into place.

“That there’s a griffon,” her cousin said helpfully. “They’re actually predators, but most tend to stay on their best behaviour ’round ponies. Not often we see ’em round here, though.”

“Wh-what’s he doing here?” Marble asked, doing her best not to sound like the wide-eyed filly she was. “Or… she? I, uh… I can’t tell…”

Applejack shrugged lightly. “Dunno, might be here for the festival, I suppose. I know Dash spread word about it to the goons in her academy class.” She studied the griffon for a moment. “An’ if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say it’s a she. Males tend to be bigger, from what I’ve seen.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Marble said, tearing her eyes from the peculiar creature with some effort. Rainbow, meanwhile, had flown on ahead, oblivious to the temporary stop in the market, and they had to run to catch up with her.

As they moved on, it became increasingly apparent that they were heading straight for the odd treehouse Marble had seen when she first came to Ponyville. Of more immediate concern was the fact that every now and then, flashes of purple light would flare briefly from the windows built into it.

“Uhm, that tree… didn’t you say yesterday it was a library?” Marble asked when it was evident that it was their destination.

Applejack nodded. “Yep. Doubles as Twi’s home, too. She loves the smell of old books. It’s like catnip to her.”

“Oh, so you get to make fun of her but I don’t?” Rainbow groused before Marble could ask what ‘catnip’ was.

“Stop being a sourpuss, would ya?” Applejack said, which earned her another grumpy look from Rainbow. A minute later, they were at the door and Applejack knocked politely before opening it. “Hey, Twi. Mind if we barge in for a moment?”

“Oh, hey, Applejack! No no, please come in,” a bright and friendly-sounding feminine voice replied.

Whatever Marble had expected to see prior to entering the treehouse fell woefully short of the sight that greeted her as she walked through the doorway. It was not the interior that surprised her the most, although that was bizarre enough in its own right; books of all sizes and colours seemed to cover every inch of free space inside the hollowed-out tree trunk. Where there weren’t books, there were piles of notes and scraps of paper scattered throughout the room, though ordered in surprisingly neat stacks.

What drew her attention, however, was the mare at the center of this organised chaos. Her coat was a shade of purple and her straight-cut mane dark blue with streaks of pink in it. She was likely as tall as Applejack, but of a much less muscular build, perhaps even a touch on the gangly side. Around her floated about a dozen open books and unrolled paper scrolls, a plate with a half-eaten daisy sandwich, a cup of coffee, a quill and a bottle of ink, and a strangely resigned-looking owl, all enveloped in a shimmer of purple. The slender horn protruding from her forehead should have marked her as a unicorn, except she also had wings, which gave Marble pause. She knew of no kind of pony who had both horn and wings except… except…

Marble stared wide-eyed at the mare so casually referred to as ‘Twi’. “She’s a princess?!” she tried to exclaim, but it came out as little more than a squeak.

Applejack indicated Marble with a sweep of her hoof, seemingly enjoying her role of introducer. “Twi, meet Marble, one of Pinkie’s sisters. Marble, meet Twi Sparkle, our resident librarian, all-round outstandin’ friend and princess of… books, I guess?” She looked over at Rainbow for confirmation.

The pegasus nodded in response, her face perfectly straight. “Sounds about right to me.”

Princess Twi stepped forward with a somewhat sour smile on her face, the many objects that had floated around her left suspended in mid-air, except for the owl, which flew over to the top of the nearest bookcase. “Applejack, could you please use my full name when you introduce me?” Her smile became more genuine as she turned towards Marble. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Marble. I’m Twilight Sparkle, and regardless of what those two wisecrackers say, I’m not the princess of books, or letters, or magic, or whatever else they might have told you.”

What do I do? She’s a princess! An in-the-flesh princess, right here in front of me and oh no, she’s addressing me! Should I bow? Or salute? Kneel? Do something!

In her frantic attempt to make a good impression, Marble’s panicked body settled for doing all three things at once. Three of her four legs bent low to the ground, the fourth snapped up to her forehead in her best effort to salute, and her nose bumped against the hard floor as she attempted to bow her head low.

An awkward silence fell between them, broken only by little hiccups of laughter from Rainbow. “N-nice,” she managed to croak.

There was the sound of a hoof being shoved against a shoulder and a muted ‘ow’ from the pegasus.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” Twilight asked, concern evident in her voice.

Is it a capital offense to run away from a princess? Marble thought as she desperately picked herself from the floor. No! Have some dignity! Show that you aren’t a complete bumpkin! She forced herself to stand up straight and adopted the best dignified yet respectful pose she could think of. It didn’t amount to much.

“H-hello, Your P-Princessly Majesty,” she stammered in spite of her best efforts.

Strangely, the princess looked as uncomfortable as Marble felt, shifting from hoof to hoof. “Uh, please, you really don’t need to bother with all that formality. Me being a princess is just a technicality anyway. I don’t really go for all that…” Twilight took a deep breath. “What I mean to say is, you can just call me Twilight. Or Twi. I won’t mind, honest.” She gave Marble a rather nervous smile. “Please?”

Marble did her best to return the smile. The sheer discomfort that almost radiated from the pri—uni—pega—mare calmed Marble, if only a little. “I, ah, uh… I’ll try, Y—Twilight.”

Twilight’s smile widened another notch and she nodded gratefully. “Thanks. To tell you the truth, all this—” she unfurled her wings and flapped them once “—it’s still kind of strange for me.” There was a rustle of paper as one of the neat stacks of notes collapsed, toppled by the rush of wind. Twilight winced. “Oh, shoot,” she muttered as she quickly began to pick the papers back up with her magic.

“She’s not kidding, you know; she’s still a total newbie when it comes to wing care,” Rainbow supplied helpfully. “She didn’t even know how to preen herself properly until a few days ago.”

“Hey!” Twilight shot the pegasus an affronted look while scooping up the papers, her cheeks reddening slightly.

“Just trying to make you more approachable,” Rainbow said, holding up her front hooves defensively.

“Remind me to thank you with a bouquet of Poison Joke,” Twilight mumbled as she placed the reorganised stack back on the table.

“Don’t let ‘er get to ya, Twi,” Applejack said with a small smirk of her own. “We were just droppin’ by to see how preparations for the festival were goin’.”

Twilight lit up in a fresh smile. “Oh, thanks for reminding me. The last of the materials arrived this morning, although I don’t think we’ll try having it sent by dragon mail again. Spike’s been sick all day, and I can’t seem to find coughdrops fast enough to keep up with him.”

Marble, who was just starting to feel moderately relaxed again, did a double take. “Sorry… did you say ‘dragon’? As in, big scaly leather-winged fire-breathing ‘raar’ dragon?”

Twilight rubbed the back of her neck with a hoof. “Well, uhm… yes. Minus the big leather-winged part. He’s got scales and can breathe fire. The ‘raar’ is debatable, at least if you don’t wake him up too early.”

“He’s kinda small, really,” Rainbow said.

“Might even say pint-sized,” Applejack added.

“Midget-y.”

“Diminutive.”

“Woah, lay off the dictionary there, smartypants.”

“Anyway,” Twilight cut through sharply. “He’s resting right now. Otherwise I’d have asked him to come say hi. He usually likes meeting new ponies.”

Marble bit her lip for a moment, but curiosity won over the risk of offending royalty. “Isn’t it kind of… well, dangerous to have a dragon in a tree house full of paper?” she asked carefully.

If Twilight was insulted by the question, she didn’t show it. If anything, the smile returned to her face in full force. “Ah, you’d think so, but that risk can easily be countered by a small localised force field around any fire. Cut it off from oxygen and it can’t spread. Simple, but pretty smart, if I do say so myself.”

Right. Unicorns. Or alicorns, I suppose.

“So, uh, about that stuff for the festival?” Rainbow asked from the top of the bookshelf where she had taken roost, next to the owl.

“Oh, yes, right this way.” Twilight beckoned them to follow with a hoof, heading out the front door. They followed her outside around the tree to a large wooden shack, sturdily built and with a slanted roof, tucked away between two houses.

“Time Turner let me borrow his shed for storage,” Twilight explained as she removed the padlock from the door. “I’ll admit, I had my doubts whether I could fit everything in here, but it’s actually surprisingly spacey, more so than you’d think.”

The door swung open, revealing a doorway full of stacked planks and little else beyond that. Whatever was tucked away inside the shack was hidden from sight. Twilight looked over her shoulder at the three other mares. “Could you step back a little? I’m going to need some room for this.”

Marble took a few steps back, watching in silent awe as Twilight’s horn lit up with that purple shimmer, mirroring the one that enveloped the planks. Smoothly, without even nudging against the doorframe, the planks drifted out one by one and formed a new stack next to the shack. More and more followed, then came metal pipes, boxes and crates of various sizes, many of which rattled in a way that indicated they were chock-full of screws or nails, even more planks…

By the time the shack had finally been emptied, Marble would not have believed it possible that everything could have been able to fit inside the building if she had not seen it with her own eyes. She groaned inwardly as she realised how many times they would have to go back and forth to move all the building materials from here to the farm, a task that would more than likely last until the late afternoon at the earliest, but she quelled the demoralising feeling; this was a simple physical task that just required endurance, and that was something she had in spades.

She was just starting to move forward to pick up the nearest box when the entire massive pile of materials was enveloped by the purple shimmer and—Marble felt her jaw go slack again—rose from the ground in gleeful defiance of all laws of gravity.

A small part of her mind raged that it was blatant cheating to do what Twilight was doing, but the rest of Marble could only watch in mute amazement as the lean alicorn lifted the whole stack as effortlessly as Rarity had lifted the towels. She stared as Twilight turned around and began to walk back around the tree again, floating her ‘burden’ in front of her. Only when she felt someone bump against her shoulder did she tear her gaze away and turn her head to find Applejack at her side, grinning at her.

“It ain’t polite to stare, y’know,” she said with a teasing smirk.

“But—how can—” Marble sputtered. “Am I the only one who thinks this is the least bit impressive?” she demanded, feeling a bit foalish about the indignant tone in her voice, but at the same time too infuriated by the apparent lack of reaction from either Applejack or Rainbow.

“You get used to it,” Applejack said with a little shrug. “Well, no, that’s a lie,” she added as an afterthought. “But trust me, sugarcube, this ain’t the most impressive thing she’s done.”

Marble looked after Twilight again. She did not know which was worse, the ease with which the seemingly frail mare lifted what should have taken at least twenty fully grown stallions to lift, or the fact that one could grow used to a sight like this. It was… it was amazing and unnatural, that’s what it was.

Applejack patted her on the back and began to walk after Twilight, and Marble forced her legs into motion as well. Rainbow had decided to hitch a ride with Twilight and was sitting atop a pair of the crates like an impromptu throne. The purple mare seemed to pay her no mind.

“If it makes ya feel any better, I was gawkin’ the same way you are the first time I saw magic like that,” Applejack said cheerfully.

It did help, a little.

The walk back through Ponyville was a slow but steady affair due to the increasing traffic of other ponies, but the massive pile of floating wood and metal helped clear a path for them more effectively than Twilight’s polite warnings of “Excuse me” and “Coming through”.

“Hey, RD, why don’tcha go round up yer fellow featherbrains while we go back with this stuff?” AJ asked the idling pegasus. “We’re gonna need a lotta hooves to get this set up.”

“Already? We aren’t even out of town yet,” Rainbow replied, reclining on the boxes with her forelegs behind her head.

“Well, not everypony can fly there. We’re gonna need more’n just pegasi, y’know,” Applejack pointed out. “While yer at it, grab anypony else who’s willin’ to chip in. Some unicorns and more earth ponies too.”

Rainbow arose with a sigh and stretched her wings languidly. “Fine, fine, I’ll handle it.”

“Great. Just remember, the more, the merrier. Speaking of which…” Applejack whistled sharply at a beige-coated stallion. “Caramel! Get the boys and head over to the east field! We got some settin’ up to do!”

The pony being addressed snapped off a mock salute and called out to someone else, disappearing into the crowd.

Rainbow rolled her shoulders and flexed her wings a few more times. “Well, see you in a bit,” she said before unceremoniously taking off in a blur, disappearing up into the clouds over Ponyville.

“Five bits say she’s probably squeeze in another nap,” Applejack muttered, a little scowl on her face as she looked after the rapidly fading rainbow-coloured contrail.

“Applejack!” Twilight said with a note of chastisement in her voice, giving the farmpony a pointed look over her shoulder.

Applejack let out a little snort. “I ever tell ya ’bout that time I asked her to help me clean out the strangleroot infestation?” she asked, pushing on before Twilight could reply. “She offered to go an’ get some of her flight buddies to help out. I said ‘sure’, figurin’ more hooves were better. Didn’t show up until two hours later.”

“Maybe she got delayed by something?” Marble suggested carefully.

“’Bloom says she an’ her friends saw her nappin’ in one of the trees near their clubhouse,” Applejack said, letting out a little sigh. “Don’t get me wrong; when it really matters, she’ll be there for ya one hundred percent, but tryin’ to get her help for anythin’ less than vital is like herdin’ cats.”

Marble struggled to come up with an adequate reply to that, eventually settling for a soft “oh.”

“Just for the record, Applejack, you’ve told that story three times already,” Twilight said after a moment.

In the quiet that followed, Marble found her eyes repeatedly drawn to Twilight and the huge pile of goods floating in front of her. They had just crossed the river on the way back to the farm and the mare had not even broken a sweat.

“Aren’t you getting tired the least bit tired?” she asked, making both Twilight and Applejack turn their heads to look at her. Nice. Could you try and make that sound a little more accusatory? “I mean,” she quickly amended, “all that stuff must weigh a ton—several, even—but you’re not… that is, you don’t look…”

“Oh. Well, uhm…” Twilight let out an embarrassed little laugh. “Not… really. I mean, sure, prolonged use of magic will slowly but surely burn calories, which is why many unicorns have high-energy snacks at hand to—”

“See that cutie mark on her flank?” Applejack cut in, pointing a hoof at Twilight’s rear for emphasis.

“Uhm…” Marble felt another flush creeping onto her cheeks, though the tinge was likely nothing compared to what was making itself manifest on Twilight’s face right now. She looked at the cutie mark in a way that brief and respectful and definitely nothing else. One large star surrounded by five smaller ones. “Yes?”

“Applejack!” Twilight blurted. “That—You can’t just—First of all, technically, a cutie mark isn’t on a pony’s flank, but on her haunches, and—”

“My mistake,” Applejack said, unable or unwilling to suppress the grin that was spreading across her face. “See that cutie mark on her butt?”

“Wh—” The entire stack of building materials wobbled dangerously for a moment as Twilight’s face scrunched and her cheeks puffed, having adopted a distinct scarlet colour now.

“That there mark means her special talent’s magic,” Applejack went on, unperturbed by the daggers being glared at her as the alicorn did a little dance to bring her hindquarters out of sight. “It just comes to her like breathin’ does to the rest of—Woah, nelly!” she cried as she was suddenly lifted off the ground in a shimmer of purple.

“You two are walking in front of me from now on,” Twilight hissed through clenched teeth as she floated Applejack through the air to the front of the pile of materials.

The smirk plastered across Applejack’s face spoke of absolutely no regrets even as she was being carried along like a foal’s toy. “Sorry, Yer Highness. Can I at least get somethin’ to cherish this memory before I’m banished? A picture, maybe?”

Marble bit her lip as she followed Applejack, but since she was most likely already guilty by association… “Of her face or her butt?” she asked innocently.

Applejack threw her head back and laughed heartily, and the scowl on Twilight’s face twitched unsteadily. “You two are going to pay for this, just wait,” the alicorn promised as she set Applejack down on the ground again, but Marble could—to her relief—see that she was having a hard time not breaking into a smile as well.

“Better watch out, Marble,” Applejack said, still chuckling. “She’s probably gonna make us catalogue her books.”

Twilight let out a little huff. “I’ll have you know I catalogued all the books last week.”

Applejack looked over her shoulder at the alicorn with an expression of faux shock. “That long ago? Sheesh, somepony’s startin’ to slack.”

“Keep talking, Chuckles, and I’ll be cataloguing you into a bookshelf as well,” Twilight warned with a dangerous smile.

Another little snort of laughter escaped Applejack and she looked at Marble with a grin. “Royals, huh?”

Marble just nodded, unsure what to make of the whole exchange. Trading jibes and mild insults seemed to be the bread and butter of conversation for Applejack and her friends. Her father would consider it terribly rude and disrespectful, but it was becoming increasingly clear to her that what her father thought seemed to—more often than not—clash with what everyone else thought.

“All right, then, let’s see…” Twilight said, seemingly mostly to herself as she placed the building materials on the ground and began to rapidly divide the planks and pipes into individual stacks according to type and size.

“Just how much stuff did ya get, anyhow?” Applejack asked, watching as one of the plank stacks quickly grew taller than her.

Twilight waved a hoof in a vague gesture, her eyes darting between the neatly growing piles. “Oh, enough. It’s all pretty straightforward to assemble, though, and the more complex stuff comes with manuals.”

Marble looked over the name tags on some of the larger crates, jumping reflexively to the side as another box dropped down next to her. Trampoline, high striker, rodeo bull, whack-a-mole… She knew what some of those words meant individually, but their meaning in this context eluded her. For instance, she found it unlikely that one of these crates, large though they might be, contained an actual bull inside.

“Whatcha lookin’ at there, Marble?” Applejack asked, sauntering over to join her.

“Oh, I just, uh…” Marble almost sighed. Great, another chance to flaunt my ignorance. “I was just wondering what these things are, really. I don’t recognise any of the names.”

Applejack let out a little chuckle as she stepped up to the nearest crate. “Well, help me unpack ’em an’ you’ll find out.”

It did not take long for other ponies to start showing up. First to arrive were a couple of pegasi, including a pair of rather pretty mares with greyish-blue coats. They were soon followed by more pegasi as well as both unicorns and earth ponies. Twilight delegated tasks to the newcomers as they arrived, pointing them to the appropriate stacks of materials for whatever type of construction work she assigned them. Some of the unicorns, including the mint-green one Marble had seen in the confectionery shop, were sent to the river to collect gravel in a couple of the now-empty boxes.

The thing Marble and Applejack were assembling, the ‘trampoline’, turned out to be a large piece of some kind of sturdy fabric stretched tautly over a circular metal frame. Its purpose escaped Marble until Applejack told her to climb on it and jump. Once the initial shock of being launched three or four times as high into the air as normal had worn off, it was all she could do not to laugh and whoop at the brief sensation of flight. She only stopped bouncing when she realised she was drawing curious glances from the nearest other ponies, and a particularly amused look from Applejack.

“Thought ya might like it,” Applejack said with a smug smile. “Those things are great fun. Kids love ’em.”

Marble still felt a little giddy from the jumping session as she dropped onto the ground again. “I can see why. It’s really—” Something in her cousin’s words just caught up with her. “Wait, it’s for kids?”

The sly grin never left Applejack’s face. “Well, we all got a bit o’ kid spirit in us, don’t we?” The tip of her tail flicked playfully against Marble’s nose as she turned towards the remaining crates. “Come on, let’s see what else we got.”

Apart from almost bringing up the need to sneeze, the brief contact with the tail tip made Marble decidedly glad that her cousin was not looking her way. The red tinge on her cheeks was somewhat tempered by the glare she shot after Applejack, however; she couldn’t help but feel a little irritated at the other mare’s ability to repeatedly make her feel embarrassed.

There was a steady trickle of new arrivals, most showing up in groups of two or three, until there must have been close to fifty ponies at work in the field. Twilight stuck around to organise the new arrivals for a time, but excused herself and left after she remembered that she had a meeting scheduled with the town’s mayor. She did promise to arrange for lunch to be brought over, however.

Rainbow Dash eventually showed up, though it was quite some time after the last arrival. When Applejack inquired about why she was so late, the pegasus evasively told her about being waylaid by someone called Scootaloo, then quickly and enthusiastically took off to help the nearest group of pegasi put up a large, colourful tent before Applejack could interrogate her further.

“Who’s Scootaloo?” Marble asked, pausing in her work for a moment to watch in fascination as the pegasi flitted around the tent like bees around a flower.

“Lil’ pegasus filly who worships the ground Dash walks on. When she does walk, that is,” Applejack said, squinting a little as she carefully tried to fit a small gear onto its shaft. Marble glanced at her; the way her cousin stuck her tongue out the corner of her mouth as she tried to manipulate the little metal wheel with hooves that seemed almost oversized in comparison was… cute was the only word she could think of.

“It’s a bit funny, really; they ain’t related, but the filly looks almost exactly like RD, down to the windblown mane and everythin’,” she continued, blissfully unaware that Marble was staring in a way that was thoroughly impolite and which she quickly corrected by busying herself with her own work before Applejack looked up. “Well, except for her colours, o’course. An’ she can’t exactly fly yet, but she’s a devil on a scooter.”

“Are they friends, then? Rainbow didn’t sound particularly thrilled about meeting her,” Marble pointed out, scrunching her face a little in annoyance at her gear’s refusal to slide properly into place with the tell-tale ‘click’.

“One thing you should know ’bout Dash is that she’s got this too-cool-for-this-thing attitude about…” Applejack furrowed her brow for a moment, then shrugged, “well, pretty much anythin’ she thinks is too personal. She’ll just try to blow it off like it’s no big deal. Heck, it took her almost a year before she could show affection to her pet turtle when others were around.”

An orange hoof brushed against Marble’s left foreleg, and the contact—brief and fleeting though it was—almost made her breath catch in her throat. The soft fur touching hers was like a gentle caress. Just as quickly as it had reached out, however, the hoof withdrew again. Marble glanced up at Applejack, who was nothing but friendly smiles as usual.

“You were tryin’ to fit it on the wrong way,” her cousin said good-naturedly.

Marble blinked and tried to put the gear onto the shaft again. It slid into place without a hitch. “Oh,” was all she could say at first. At least this time her embarrassment stemmed from an honest mistake. She grinned sheepishly at Applejack and rubbed the back of her neck. “Sorry. We don’t really have a lot of this delicate machine stuff back home.”

Her cousin chuckled lightly and patted her shoulder comradely. “Don’t worry, sugarcube. I wouldn’t have a clue ’bout this either if I didn’t have the manual,” she said with a nod towards the open booklet on the ground.

“Maybe we’d work faster if one had the instructions and told the other what to do?” Marble suggested. “That way we don’t have to go back and forth to double check with the manual.”

Applejack nodded. “Sounds like a good idea.”

They looked at each other silently for a moment, neither making any move. Marble cleared her throat. “So, uhm, if you go get the manual, I’ll just follow your instructions.”

“You mean you read from the manual an’ I’ll do the work, right?”

Eventually, a compromise was reached; they would take turns at being the one who had to sit with the manual and being the one who was allowed to work, changing roles once a building project was completed or the other started growing restless.

The sun had passed its zenith when another familiar face showed up; the soft-spoken yellow pegasus that had also been present at Sugarcube Corner—Fluttershy, wasn’t it?—came up the path towards the construction site pulling a veritable cartload of sandwiches and peculiar colourful little boxes. She made for a strange sight, the cart seeming as if it would be too heavy for her to haul on her own; Marble could only conclude that the dainty pegasus possessed a wiry strength that her lithe body belied.

She reminded Marble somewhat of herself, really. Like the pegasus, she had a fairly lean physique, at least when compared to Applejack or her brother. I wonder how she’d do back home? Marble thought idly, tilting her head a bit to try and get a better look at the pegasus’ hooves from where she sat. Not all the tasks around the rock farm required simple raw strength. Some needed a more delicate touch, something that the pegasus might—

“Y’know, ya could’ve just said it was gettin’ time to switch.”

“Uh?” Marble blinked and quickly tore her gaze away from the pegasus. Applejack was needling her with another of her infuriatingly smug grins.

“Then again, it has been almost, what, fifteen minutes or somethin’ since last?” her cousin continued, her expression turning into one of mock thoughtfulness as she tapped her chin with a hoof.

“Shush you,” Marble muttered, half-heartedly trying to bat Applejack across the nose with the booklet.

Fluttershy, meanwhile, had parked the cart roughly in the middle of the field and timidly rung the small bell attached to the side of the cart. Most of the ponies paused in their work to look over at her curiously, something the pegasus seemed rather ill at ease about.

“Uhm, excuse me?” she said cautiously, her voice barely rising above what could be considered a polite whisper. “If anypony is hungry, there’s a sandwich and a juice box for you here. That is, if you aren’t all too busy right now.” She shifted nervously on her hooves as she looked around at the faces staring at her with rapt attention. “I-if you are, I can just c-come back later. I won’t m—”

“You rock, Fluttershy!” Rainbow Dash’s voice called out from somewhere above. “You hear that, gang? Free meal!”

It wasn’t quite a mad rush, but the cart still quickly became surrounded by ponies. Fluttershy seemed more than happy to step aside and let them sort out the food on their own, instead having a quiet conversation with Rainbow.

“Was about time to get some grub, anyhow,” Applejack grunted, which her stomach assented to with an almost ferocious growl that startled Marble. “Though whaddaya say we finish up this doohickey first? No sense in goin’ yet if it’s just gonna turn into a big shovin’ match.”

“I’m pretty sure we could win it if it came to that,” Marble said with a little smile as she flicked back to the correct page in the manual.

Applejack chuckled. “Well, yeah. I’m just sayin’ it wouldn’t be very fair towards everypony else.”

They managed to add a grand total of one extra bolt to the contraption before they were interrupted by a rush of wind tearing the booklet from Marble’s hooves.

“Aw yeah, check it out, girls! Free food is the best food!” Rainbow declared, grinning excitedly from the spot between Marble and Applejack where she had seemingly just materialised and brandishing a pair of sandwiches and juice boxes. Fluttershy came gliding towards them at a rather more sedate pace, also carrying food.

“That’s ’cause ya always pay through yer nose for that premade foodstuff,” Applejack said, putting the tools aside in resignation. “When’s the last time ya made a meal on yer own?”

Rainbow waved a hoof dismissively at her and placed the sandwiches next to Fluttershy’s on top of one of the empty crates. “Yack, yack, yack. There’s tomatoes, basil, oregano or sweet peppers. Who wants what?” Before anyone else could even open their mouth, Rainbow snatched the sandwich closest to her. “Dips on the peppers!”

“Well, ain’t you friendly?” Applejack said dryly.

“Hey, you snooze, you lose.”

Applejack rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Marble and Fluttershy. “Well, you two go ahead an’ pick the one ya like.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t—”

“No, no, it’s fine, I—”

Marble exchanged looks with the timid pegasus, who almost immediately ducked behind her mane. It was a very effective curtain, even more so than Marble’s own mane.

“You go ahead and pick first. You’re the one who brought the cart out here to begin with,” Marble said, giving the other mare her best friendly smile. She wasn’t sure how much good it did, though; that mane was a very effective curtain.

“I-it’s okay. I don’t mind which…” Fluttershy mumbled. Marble had to strain her ears to hear that first part. The rest was simply lost in an inaudible whisper.

She looked over at Applejack for help, but her cousin merely shrugged. Time for a different approach, then. “Which of those three do you like the best?” Marble asked. “If you had to pick one, that is,” she quickly added.

Fluttershy’s head turned a bit, enough that Marble could see at least a sliver of a cyan eye. “Well, uhm, I do like tomatoes… b-but it’s not—”

Marble took the sandwich brimming with rich red tomato slices and gently but firmly placed it in Fluttershy’s hooves. She was treated briefly to a wan smile before both Fluttershy’s face and the sandwich disappeared behind the pink mane again.

“Well, that just leaves two,” Applejack said, stepping up next to Marble. “You want the basil or the oregano?”

“Uhm…” Marble looked at the two remaining sandwiches. Drat. It’d help if I actually knew what either of those two things were. “Uhh…” Great stalling tactic.

“No rush, o’course,” Applejack said mildly. Marble glanced at her.

“Okay, don’t laugh now, but I don’t actually know what either of those two things are.” Marble felt irritation bubbling up inside her as that telltale grin slipped back on her cousin’s face.

“Shucks, Marb, ya gotta get some more spice in yer life—”

“Yeah, I get it, I’m not as smart as you! Very funny!” she snapped, unable to contain herself anymore. “But do you have to make fun of me every time something like that happens? Why do you do it, anyway?” Her simmering anger rapidly deflated when she saw the crestfallen expression that flickered across Applejack’s face, replacing the easy grin she had worn.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make ya upset. I thought you’d tell me to stop if it started botherin’ ya,” Applejack said with a little shrug, looking genuinely apologetic. Marble didn’t need to look into those green eyes for more than a second to verify what she already knew.

I really am a big idiot.

Fluttershy seemed to be trying harder than ever to hide behind her mane from the brief but heated outburst. Rainbow, however, was wearing the kind of wide, sadistic grin Marble had only ever seen on Blinkie when she was in a teasing mood.

“It’s because she luuurves you,” the pegasus drawled, her grin growing until it looked as if it might split her face.

Applejack turned around and gave Rainbow an exasperated look. “Seriously, RD?” she asked in a flat voice.

The pegasus stepped up to her and slung a foreleg around her shoulder, fixing Marble with a look that was almost overflowing with amusement. “You see, AJ is just so blubbery with all that touchy-feely stuff, she can’t come out and say what she feels, so she has to show it by teasing instead.”

“Right,” Applejack said in that same flat tone, shoving Rainbow’s leg off her back. “O’course, allow me to note that I tease most ponies I know. It’s called ‘banter’.” She shot the pegasus a withering look. “Heck, you spend most of the time where you don’t sleep on teasin’ an’ prankin’ others. Does that mean you wanna jump in bed with all o’ them?”

Rainbow shook her head. “Nah, just the hot ones. Which I guess leaves you out. Ooooooh!” She shook her hoof as if she had just burned it, grinning from ear to ear. When she looked around at the others expectantly, she was met with unenthused—and in Marble’s case, uncomprehending—expressions. She snorted and sat down to eat her sandwich. “Whatever. You guys wouldn’t know good humour if it bit your tail.”

“Y’know, you can be a right doofus sometimes, RD,” Applejack grunted as she took one of the remaining sandwiches and sat down as well.

Marble hadn’t moved—and barely breathed—during that whole exchange. Surely Rainbow had just been joking; it had just been part of the ongoing bickering between her and Applejack. I mean, that has to be it, right? She couldn’t possibly be serious, could she? No, no, that wouldn’t be—Applejack wouldn’t—would she?

“Hey, Marb,” Applejack said, tearing Marble from her thoughts. “Ain’t ya gonna sit down?” She, Rainbow and even Fluttershy were watching her, all of them already well into the process of eating their sandwiches.

Marble mutely sat down next to Fluttershy and took a bite from her own sandwich. It had a delicious, even exotic flavour that her befuddled mind barely registered. She didn’t know where to turn her eyes; looking at Applejack caused the myriad of confused questions and thoughts to boil to the forefront of her mind again, Fluttershy determinedly avoided eye contact, and every time she looked towards Rainbow, the pegasus waggled her eyebrows suggestively at her while nodding not-so-surreptitiously towards Applejack. Eventually she settled for looking at her food. At least that seemed largely harmless. She took another bite; it was a very good sandwich.

“So hey, let’s play a game while we eat,” Rainbow said in an upbeat tone. “You know, since we aren’t really doing anything right now, anyway.”

“Let’s not,” Applejack grunted in between mouthfuls. “Jus’ eat yer lunch, RD.”

“Uhm… what kind of game?” Fluttershy asked carefully. Marble raised her gaze as well. The blue pegasus was smiling again, something Marble was rapidly coming to view as a warning sign.

Rainbow’s eyes gleamed deviously. “There’s this fun little game called ‘matchmaker’—”

“Dash,” Applejack said in a warning tone.

The pegasus ignored the other mare. “It’s very simple; pick any two ponies, and then somepony else has to guess how they’d go together. Easy!”

Applejack chewed slowly, almost menacingly, on her sandwich, one eyebrow quirked. “You been hangin’ around Rarity lately?”

“Just try it.” Rainbow gestured with her half-eaten sandwich towards Marble. “I’ll go first. Let’s take you and Marble for starters, since you apparently already get along so great.”

Marble shifted nervously on the spot as the floodgates of her mind opened again; was the pegasus on to something, or was it all just a poor joke at her and Applejack’s expense? She glanced at her cousin, but the other mare’s expression was nonplussed and largely unreadable.

“Not doin’ this,” Applejack said curtly, chomping down on the last of her lunch.

A look of annoyance flashed across Rainbow’s face. “Come on, don’t be such a spoilsport!”

“Nope.”

Rainbow threw up her hooves in resignation. “Ugh, fine. Marble?”

Marble blinked rapidly, bewildered. “I, uhh…” She averted her eyes from the pegasus’ intense stare, wringing her hooves anxiously. I… Are we really doing this? Am I really doing this?

“Knock it off, Dash,” Applejack growled, punching the straw through the top of her juice box with her teeth.

Rainbow turned her attention to the other pegasus. “Fluttershy?”

“Oh, uhm…” The delicate pegasus seemed as uncomfortable as Marble felt about being put on the spot. “Th-they’d be, uh, they’d be… very nice?” she suggested timidly, glancing from Marble to Applejack, a little rose tint on her cheeks.

Marble felt a flittery knot forming in her stomach. We… we would? But we’re—

Rainbow grinned triumphantly. “Hah! See?”

“Hey, ‘Shy,” Applejack said with sudden levity in her voice. “Whaddaya think of Big Mac an’ Cheerilee?”

“Oh, I think they’re very nice together,” Fluttershy said with a soft smile.

“How ’bout Twi an’ Princess Celestia? Ya think they’d go well together too?” Applejack continued in the same light conversational tone.

“Uhm… I think so?” Fluttershy looked thoughtful for a second, then nodded. “Yes, I… I think they’d be very nice together as well.”

“Oh! What about Caramel and Thunderlane?” Dash suggested enthusiastically, smiling widely.

Fluttershy bit her lower lip lightly, the blush on her cheeks returning in full force. “I-I think they’d be n-nice. Uhm, yes, very nice.”

Applejack idly took a sip from her juice box before continuing. “And how ’bout Roseluck, Daisy an’ Lily all gettin’ together for a big pile of girl lovin’?”

Fluttershy clamped both front hooves to her mouth. Her cheeks looked positively aflame now. “O-oh… my…”

Applejack quirked an eyebrow at her, the tip of the straw wedged between her lips. “Hmm?”

The pegasus swallowed audibly and pulled her bangs over her face for a moment. When she drew them back again, she looked only slightly less flustered and her voice was barely above a whisper. “Th-that’d be very nice. Th-they! They’d be very nice. T-together, I mean. Uhm, isn’t it somepony else’s turn soon?”

Applejack drained the last of her juice box with a rattling sound and discarded the empty carton in the nearest empty crate. “It’s about time to stop lollygaggin’ an’ get back to work, is what it is,” she said. Marble, who had only just opened up her own juice box, hurriedly tried to follow suit as her cousin turned her attention towards Fluttershy. “Thanks for droppin’ by with the food, ’Shy. Was mighty appreciated. Gonna stick around?”

The timid pegasus shook her head, the blush slowly receding from her cheeks. “Sorry, I need to go back home. I promised Hummingway and his bird friends I’d help with their choir rehearsals.”

“Oh, come on, it was just getting fun!” Rainbow protested. “One more round?”

“Yeah, no,” Applejack replied, adjusting her hat. “Sorry, Dash, daylight’s burnin’. Besides, don’t ya have a tree to nap in or somethin’?”

Rainbow put a hoof under her chin and looked towards the treeline. “Well, now that you mention it…” At the scowl that formed on Applejack’s face, she quickly flashed a grin. “I’m kidding!”

Any further comments were forestalled by a series of hacking coughs from Marble. In her eagerness to finish up her drink, she had ended up getting it down the wrong throat. She managed a muted apology after a couple of seconds of coughing and a forceful thump on the back, courtesy of Applejack.

After saying their goodbyes, Fluttershy headed back the way she had come with the now empty cart. Rainbow flew off to help one of the pegasus teams, leaving Marble and Applejack alone again.

Applejack turned towards her and smiled, rolling her neck. “So, ready to get back to it?”

Marble fidgeted a bit with her empty carton, still finding herself uncomfortable looking directly at her cousin. “Uhm… maybe we should, uh… Some of the other groups might need help and…”

“Hey…” Applejack said softly, and Marble felt the gentle touch of a hoof on her shoulder. It did little to soothe her tumultuous thoughts, but at least she was able to look up at the other mare. “You ain’t gonna let Dash’s teasin’ get to ya, right? She was just bein’ a smartass like usual.”

Marble let out a weak, nervous little laughter. “Right! S-sure, I’m not… I, uh… W-well, as long as you don’t feel weird about this. Us. Working together, I mean!”

Applejack chuckled lightly and took the juice box from Marble’s hooves, tossing it into the crate that had become an impromptu waste bin. “Don’t worry ’bout it, sugarcube. That ain’t the worst teasin’ I’ve had from Dash. Not by a long shot. Heck, it’s one o’ the reasons we have this competition an’ festival.” She trotted over and picked up the discarded manual from where it had come to a stop against one of their finished projects, smiling at Marble. “How ’bout you do the fun part an’ I’ll handle the dull readin’ for starters?”

Work resumed relatively seamlessly, the two mares once again taking turns at being builder and overseer. Marble still found herself rather tongue-tied beyond reading the instructions from the manual, but Applejack seemed content to make up for the both of them, chatting idly about her friends, family, life on the farm and in Ponyville in general. Words flowed from her easily, she smiled and occasionally cracked a light joke, and the more she talked, the more likely it seemed that Rainbow’s assertion had simply been a jest.

So why was it still so hard to stop thinking about it? Why was it difficult just looking Applejack in the eye, and even worse to look at her when she had her back turned?

And why, despite all these discomforts, had she felt that excited little tingle when Applejack had refused to split up?

All over the field, booths, benches, fences, tents large and small, and all manner of strange objects whose functions escaped Marble were sprouting up like very organized mushrooms. Prior to leaving, Twilight had left instructions—in some places even small, helpful signs—on how she wanted everything arranged. A large rectangular arena dominated the centre, which itself was further divided into smaller sections, while the tents and stalls were erected around the outskirts.

By the time that dusk fell, Marble and Applejack had assembled more than a dozen contraptions. Although she had only tried out the trampoline—even though Applejack had offered her the opportunity to give the others a go as well—she had done her best to memorise the names and looks of all the devices. She had done it partly so that she could later recount them to Blinkie, whom she hoped would share her enthusiasm for them, but also because it gave her something to think about other than Applejack.

It was getting to the point where she had to strain her eyes to make out the name printed atop the instruction pages, however, to say nothing of the smaller letters that went along with the illustrations.

There was a clatter of metal as Applejack put down her tools. “Well, I think that’s us done for today,” she said.

Marble looked up in surprise. “Huh? What, why?”

Applejack gave her a wry smile. “You’ve been squintin’ like a newborn puppy at that manual for the past fifteen minutes, so either ya need glasses or it’s just too dark to keep goin’.”

I have? That’d explain why my eyes feel so tired. “You sure we shouldn’t finish this up first?” she asked. It didn’t feel quite right leaving work half done.

“Nah, no point,” Applejack said with a little shake of her head. “If we can’t see what we’re doin’ or how to do it, we might just muck it up, an’ then we’ll have to take the whole thing apart an’ start over tomorrow.”

Marble nodded slightly. “Well, you have a point there…”

“Darn tootin’ I do. You mind puttin’ the manual an’ smaller bits back into the crate? Just so it don’t get blown away overnight or somethin’. I’m gonna go tell the others we’re stoppin’ for now.” As Marble began packing, Applejack trotted over to a stack of empty upturned boxes and climbed atop them.

“All right, gang, that’s us done for today!” she called out. “I just wanna thank y’all for comin’ by to help us! We’ve done mighty fine work in such a short time!” There was a pleased murmur and a couple of cheers as the various work crews put down their tools and whatever else they were busy with. “If any of y’all got unfinished stuff, just leave it or stick it into its crate if it fits! Our pegasi buddies have promised us a clear night, so no need to worry about rain! An’ if any of ya wanna come back tomorrow an’ finish up, that’d be welcome, too!”

As Applejack hopped down the boxes and headed back, Marble noticed another familiar figure coming up the path to the field, her pristine white coat appearing to shine even in the gloom that had fallen. She was carrying a pair of saddlebags that seemed loaded to the brim, and six lanterns, three on each side, were affixed to them as well, clanking gently against each other as she walked. Four more lanterns floated in front of her, enveloped in a soft blue shimmer. Despite her burden, she managed to maintain an air of supreme grace. While it wasn’t as much as Twilight had lifted, Marble still found it impressive in its own way.

Applejack waved at the unicorn as she walked up to them. “Well, howdy, Rarity! Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Hello, Applejack, Marble,” Rarity said, smiling radiantly and inclining her head to them in turn. “I hope you’re both doing well?”

“Sure are. What brings you out here, though? If you’ve come to help, I’m afraid yer a tad late. We were just wrappin’ up.”

Rarity placed the four floating lanterns atop the nearest crate. “On the contrary, darling, I’m right on time. Twilight asked me to spruce this place up with some appropriate decorations and lighting, and since I imagine the festival itself will continue quite some time after sundown, this is the perfect opportunity to test out some of my ideas!”

“And those lanterns are part of that testing?” Marble asked, looking at the lanterns curiously. The ones atop the crate looked similar, but those hanging from Rarity’s saddlebags were clearly different from each other. “They don’t all look alike.”

“You are quite correct!” Rarity said, giving Marble another of those dazzling smiles. “These—” she nodded at the ones atop the crate “—are firefly lanterns, while the others are oil and kerosene lanterns. They give off different glows, and I have to find out which are just right for emphasising and enhancing the atmosphere for different sections! Observe.” She adjusted a small knob on one of the firefly lanterns, and after a moment, it was filled with small drifting orbs emitting a pale green glow.

Marble stared at the swirling dots for a moment, almost hypnotised by their whimsical movements, until Rarity lifted one of the lanterns from her saddlebags with her magic and lit it as well. In contrast to the other lantern, this one bathed its surroundings in a warm, inviting orange light.

“Shucks, all we need is to be able to see in the dark,” Applejack said with a little shrug. “Just go with the ones that are cheapest to keep runnin’ through the night. There, job’s done.”

Rarity let out a little huff and stuck her nose up at the other mare. “And this is why Twilight put me in charge of the decorations. You wouldn’t know culture if it was sashaying in front of your eyes.”

“Yeah, yer inordinate knowledge on the finer points of lantern lightin’ is the envy of ponies everywhere,” Applejack said with an expression and voice of carefully moulded neutrality.

Rarity nodded graciously. “I’m glad we’re in agreement,” she said, tossing her head a little so that the long, elegant curl of her mane bounced lightly against her neck. Marble idly wondered how Rarity managed to get her mane in that shape. The only word she could think of to describe it was ‘elegant’.

It was probably magic. That seemed to be the answer to most questions regarding unicorns.

Rarity unslung her saddlebags and placed the remaining lanterns together with the rest. “Apart from that, Pinkie also asked me to remind you about the dinner at six.” She raised an immaculately trimmed eyebrow at Applejack. “I trust you haven’t forgotten about that?”

Marble almost bit her tongue; for a time, she had actually forgotten about it, her mind having been too preoccupied with… other things after the lunch. Applejack, however, shook her head.

“’Course not. We were about to head there right now, actually,” she said.

Rarity arched her eyebrow a little higher. “Right now? As in… right now-right now?”

“Well… yeah? Why?” Applejack asked, furrowing her brow a little in puzzlement.

“Well, I… I didn’t want to say anything earlier because I assumed…” Rarity shook her head. “What I’m trying to say is that your odour is slightly… you smell a little… ripe. You—no, I’m sorry; darlings, you two positively reek.”

Applejack twisted her head around to sniff herself, then leaned over to sniff Marble’s neck—much to Marble’s unease—before shrugging. “Smells like honest work. What’s the big deal?”

Rarity let out a sigh of exasperation. “The ‘big deal’, dear Applejack, is that one simply cannot go to a social event stinking of sweat, no matter how much you may fancy yourself a stallion. I’m afraid I have to insist that you wash off that layer of grime off before you go anywhere.”

Marble self-consciously tried to smell herself, though she couldn’t catch whiff of the kind of particularly repugnant stench that Rarity seemed to be experiencing.

“We ain’t havin’ tea with Princess Celestia,” Applejack pointed out. “Marb’s kin are farmers too, an’ Pinkie an’ the Cakes have known me long enough it shouldn’t be a big deal. Besides, if we dawdle for a shower now, we’re gonna run late.”

“Then you’re going to be late, but at least you’ll smell like a civilized pony,” Rarity said firmly.

“I’m… not sure running late is a good idea,” Marble said carefully, almost hesitant to get involved in the arguing. “My dad doesn’t approve of tardiness.”

Rarity gave her a sympathetic little smile. “I’m sorry, dear; I know it’s never appealing to have to start an evening on a wrong footing like this, but at times like these, a lady needs to keep her priorities right.”

A… lady? Me?

“Now come along, the sooner we get you two cleaned up, the sooner you can get going,” she continued.

Applejack set her jaw firmly. “Rares—”

“Ah-ah, no objections!” Rarity said. “I’ll drag you to the farm if I have to, even if that’ll make me all smelly and… icky…” The grimace on her face spoke of how little that prospect appealed to the unicorn, but her voice was firm and resolute.

Marble looked from one mare to the other; both looked equally stubborn and would likely continue to argue back and forth until dawn if given the chance. A small, cowardly part of Marble was happy to let them do so if it meant holding off on seeing her father again for a while longer, but the image of Pinkie’s pleading eyes sent that notion scampering back into its dark corner.

However, she couldn’t deny that Rarity had a point; now that the unicorn had mentioned it, Marble did think she could smell a certain unpleasantness about herself, and, although it hadn’t been like a day in the rock fields during summer, they had also been working hard assembling and moving those devices, even with the breaks when reading the manuals. And while her father disapproved of tardiness, he despised being unclean when eating just as much.

She stepped over to Rarity just as Applejack opened her mouth again, likely to form another protest. “Rarity has a point. If we’re going to be late, then we may as well make sure we’re clean for when we show up, right?”

Rarity nodded appreciatively at Marble. “Thank you, Marble,” she said gratefully before turning back to Applejack. “See? We have agreement here. And besides, this dinner is about Pinkie, not your pride in your rusticity!”

Applejack looked at Marble for a moment; it almost made Marble feel bad, turning against her cousin like this, but… No, like Rarity said, this wasn’t about siding with one or the other, it was about Pinkie.

Thankfully, rather than objecting further, Applejack shrugged lightly and walked over to them as well. Together they headed back down the path towards the farmhouse, Marble and Applejack in front of Rarity, who was carrying one of her firefly lanterns, this one emitting a pale yellow glow.

As they trotted along at a brisk pace, Marble felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck. She glanced aside to find Applejack looking at her again. “What?” she asked a little more testily than she had intended, feeling slightly on edge.

“Nothin’,” Applejack replied, a wry little smile playing across her lips. “Just didn’t think you’d be as fastidious as Rares.” She let out a little yelp as Rarity’s horn jabbed at her flank. “Ow, hey!”

“I am not ‘fastidious’. I am socially cultured!” Rarity said with an indignant huff.

“That’s what I said! Sheesh!” Applejack complained, swatting her tail at the unicorn, which she neatly sidestepped.

Marble couldn’t help a brief little smile of her own. “Well, last time I showed up at Sugarcube Corner, I was covered in mud and dirt. I’d rather not make it look like a habit.”

“Fair point,” Applejack conceded, “though I just gotta point out we haven’t really wrestlin’ in mud or anythin’ now.”

Rarity let out a little groan. “Just get a move on, would you, you brute?”

The farm house was lit up from its windows much like yesterday and looked ever so inviting in the last dying rays of light on the horizon. Marble was already heading for the front door when Applejack spoke up.

“Over here, Marb. We got an outdoor shower ’round the side of the barn. Quicker to use that,” she said, leading the way around the back of the large building.

The outdoor shower, as it turned out, was a semi-circular brass tank open to the sky, likely to store rainwater, with a showerhead dangling from a tube at the bottom and a chain hanging from the side. Next to it was a simple wooden rack upon which Applejack placed her hat and hairbands as she loosened them.

Rarity looked around searchingly as she hung the lantern by its handle on the end of the rack, a little frown forming on her lips. “Applejack… where do you keep your conditioners?”

“Conditioners? Shucks, we ain’t got any of that fancy stuff,” Applejack replied with a little shrug as the band in her mane came loose.

The unicorn blinked. “Shampoo, then? Surely you have that.”

Applejack shook her head. “Nope.”

“Soap?” Rarity’s voice was almost pleading now.

“Oh, sure, we got a soap bar.”

Rarity let out a little sigh of relief.

“It’s in the bathroom in the house.”

“...”

The corner of Rarity’s eye twitched, her cheeks puffed, and for a moment, it looked to Marble like she was in the verge of screaming. Instead, she shoved Applejack under the showerhead with a forcefulness that seemed to surprise the much larger mare, yanked the chain and grabbed the dangling showerhead with her magic, guiding the torrent of doubtlessly very cold water straight down on the perplexed farmpony.

“Woah, hey, I can—” The rest of Applejack’s words were drowned by an almost hysterical fit of giggles as she was enveloped from head to hoof in the blue shimmer, invisible hooves scrubbing her mane and coat vigorously.

“Ra-Rarity, s-s-stop! I c-can’t—” Applejack tried feebly in between sobs of laughter, squirming and twisting futilely on the spot under the relentless stream of water. “—T-tickles!

Rarity was merciless, her expression grim-set and unyielding as she used her magic to scrub the other pony. “For goodness’ sake, Applejack, hold still! You’re making this more difficult than it needs to be!”

Marble could only watch the unfolding spectacle in horrified fascination, her once so proud and stoic cousin reduced to a gibbering, giggling filly under the ministrations of the unicorn. It went on for several minutes until Rarity seemed to finally deem her work finished. Applejack staggered out from underneath the showerhead, her soaked mane clinging to her neck and shoulders in a way that was very… it looked very…

“Your turn now, darling,” Rarity said, and Marble realised with a shock that the unicorn was right in front of her.

“But I—” she managed before Rarity firmly pushed her under the pouring water. She had a brief moment to feel the almost freezing water splashing against her until that sensation was pushed firmly into the background in face of the fierce magical assault that enveloped every inch of her body simultaneously. Despite what it had looked like on Applejack, it was not quite like being attacked by dozens of hooves all at once. Rather, it was like being attacked by dozens of feathers, reaching and tickling everywhere at once. No matter how she twisted, turned or danced, they were unrelenting, and a curiously detached part of her mind realised that the squeaks and fits of laughter she heard were her own.

Eventually—although a small part of her almost felt like it was disappointingly soon—the sensation and downpour both receded, and it was all she could do not to stumble gracelessly out of the shower and treat herself to a faceful of dirt.

“Towel?” she heard Rarity ask.

“In the house,” Applejack replied.

“Urgh! You are hopeless!”

Marble looked up in time to see Rarity disappear around the side of the barn. Applejack shook herself, spraying droplets everywhere, then brushed a strand of clingy wet mane out of her eyes, smiling at Marble.

“Well, we sure gotta look mighty presentable now, huh?” she said cheerfully.

Marble nodded mutely. Even in the sparse light of the firefly lantern, it was hard not to notice the way the little sparkling droplets ran down Applejack’s face, neck, shoulders, chest, legs… No! Stop that! What is wrong with you? She mentally slapped herself and forced herself to look her cousin in the eyes.

“Though, if we weren’t late before, I got a feelin’ we’re gonna be now.” Applejack’s smile faded a little as she looked over her shoulder after Rarity. “Girl’s takin’ her time.”

“Why don’t you wear your mane loose like that normally? It looks good on you.”

…

Marble, this is your brain. Would you kindly tell me you did not just say—

Applejack looked at her in surprise for a moment, then chuckled. “Well, shucks, that’s kind of ya to say, Marb. Though I guess it’s just ’cause it don’t feel very practical-like, mane gettin’ in yer face when yer workin’ an’ all that.”

“R-right, makes sense,” Marble stammered and silently cursed her treacherous tongue to Tartarus. She was spared further embarrassment by a towel being thrown over her cousin’s head and another being proffered to her in a shimmer of blue as Rarity came back around the barn.

“Come on now, hurry up,” Rarity said as the other two mares dried themselves off with the towels. “You’ve got a dinner to get to, and I’ve got decorations to set up!”

Applejack’s voice was somewhat muffled by the fabric she was rubbing vigorously against her face. “Hey, if ya wanna switch, the offer’s open.”

“Absolutely not! I’d need to apply fresh makeup first and find a suitable outfit for the occasion, not to mention it’s been days since I’ve last had a proper hooficure, and—” Rarity let out a sigh of frustration, seizing Applejack’s towel and wiping the farmpony’s mane furiously, then seized it in her magic and yanked it back, swiftly tying it into a braid.

Applejack yelped and grimaced at the less than gentle treatment, trying to twist around and immediately regretting it as Rarity’s firm grip on her mane merely caused it to be pulled at by the roots. “Ow! Dangit, Rares, that hurts!”

“That’s what you get for not holding still when I tell you to,” Rarity said, a little smirk on her lips. “Now stop squirming, or do I need to put you in a leglock?”

The answer seemed to be ‘yes’, because Applejack almost immediately reared up and swiped her wet tail behind her blindly, catching Rarity right across the face with it. She spluttered, spat and shook her head inelegantly for a moment, the blue shimmer around Applejack’s mane flickering.

“I told ya a hundred times already; no braids!” Applejack tried to make a break for it while Rarity was distracted, but the unicorn leapt at her and tackled her to the ground with surprising ferocity, pinning one of Applejack’s forelegs behind her back with both front hooves while straddling her.

“I said hold still, darling!” Rarity hissed, grabbing Applejack’s mane in her magic again and resuming her work.

“Not a word to anypony about this,” Applejack muttered to Marble as the unicorn deftly arranged her blonde mane in a long, elegant braid.

During the whole thing, Marble had stood rooted to the spot, unsure whether to step in or not. In a way, it was oddly… reassuring to see her cousin humbled so for a second time by the delicate unicorn; to know that, as much as she might give the impression of it, she wasn’t always in control and certainly wasn’t infallible.

Marble nodded reassuringly at Applejack. “Don’t worry, I can keep quiet. The others are probably going to notice it either way, though.”

Rarity let out a little huff. “As well they should! I’m putting a lot of effort into this!”

“Can we at least leave out the part where I got marehandled by Rares?” Applejack groaned.

“Cross my heart and hope to fly…” Marble intoned with a little smile, making the appropriate gesture with her hoof.

“There… finished,” Rarity said, a little out of breath as she let go of Applejack’s foreleg and moved off her back. Applejack stood up as well, sporting a magnificent long braid that hung down the left side of her neck in addition to a rather displeased expression on her face.

“Great, can we go now?” she grumbled, tossing her head a little to flick the braid behind her back, though it simply slipped down her right side instead.

“In a moment,” Rarity said pleasantly and turned her head towards Marble, who suddenly felt like a mouse before a bird of prey. “Hmm… I think a chignon would suit you just perfectly…”

Marble had no idea what that was, but she knew they were running late enough as it was, and she was not particularly keen on being thrown about the same way Applejack had been. “Ah, that sounds nice, but…” She glanced at Rarity’s mane, which seemed to have come out significantly worse for the wear from the braiding session. “Perhaps you might want to, uhm, tend to yourself first.”

Rarity furrowed her brow a bit in puzzlement and gingerly raised a hoof to her mane. “Whatever do you mean, darling? I—” She froze. “Is… is that…?” Her eyes widened and her mouth moved soundlessly for a moment. “M-my hair! It’s a bird’s nest! I-I—I have to go!”

Without another word, or even a backwards look, Rarity sprinted off at a pace that surprised Marble, given the unicorn’s dainty frame. They both stood still for a moment and looked after the white silhouette as it disappeared down the road.

“Well… that’s one way to do it,” Applejack muttered. She grabbed her hat from the stand and turned to look at Marble. “I think it’s high time we got goin’ ourselves, though. C’mon.”

“Right.” Marble nodded and ran after her. I just hope Dad isn’t going to be too upset, she thought, though she suspected she already knew the answer to that.

9: Family

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Marble had never heard knocks sound as ominous as the ones produced by Applejack’s hoof against the front door of Sugarcube Corner. The sound stood in stark contrast to the brightly-coloured and inviting exterior of the building and the warm light streaming from the windows. It wasn’t even raining this time, and yet Marble was very nearly sweating bullets despite the autumn chill.

Applejack was—of course—back to her stoically calm demeanour. She even flashed Marble a brief, comforting smile before the door cracked open and bathed them both in the glow of the building’s interior as well as that of Pinkie’s relieved smile.

“Oh, there you are, silly fillies! You’re just in time for dinner!” she said enthusiastically, throwing her forelegs around their shoulders and drawing them inside. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Actually, you’re just a teensy itty bit late, but it’s okay! I distracted Mom and Dad with a few games.”

Despite, or perhaps because of Pinkie’s assurances, Marble had a sinking feeling in her gut as her sister led them towards the door on the right at the back of the room; she knew how her parents reacted to Pinkie’s ‘games’.

“Sorry, Pinkie. Work ran a little late, an’ then Rarity happened by,” Applejack explained.

“Ooh, is that why you have that nice braid?” Pinkie asked, nudging the heavy braid around with her hoof.

Applejack glanced at Marble, shooting her a silent plea for discretion. “Wanted to make a good impression, is all. Figured it couldn’t hurt,” her cousin replied airily after Marble had responded to her look with a surreptitious nod.

Pinkie pushed the door open, revealing the living room in all its homely splendour. The walls were decorated with family photos, a few paintings and the occasional shelf lined with books or various knick-knacks. A long rectangular table dominated the center of the room, around which the other ponies were already seated.

Immediately upon entering the room, Marble felt the nagging sense of guilt that always accompanied her father’s scathing look even before she saw the scowl on his face. The full impact of his disapproval was lessened ever so slightly by the colourful polka-dotted party hat he wore in place of his regular black hat, though it did little to ease the apprehension Marble felt.

“You’re late,” he stated simply. He didn’t need to say anything else; the look in his eyes told her the rest.

Marble opened her mouth to reply, but found it as dry as if she had been swallowing sand. No matter how well Pinkie had been able to distract them with her games, she hadn’t been able to hide the telltale clock on the wall. ‘Late’ was an understatement; ‘late’ was five minutes, perhaps ten at most. More than twenty minutes was off-to-bed-without-dinner late.

Luckily, Applejack was as unaffected by the imperious tone as ever. She didn’t even bat an eyelid, but merely nudged her hat back and smiled at the others. “Sorry, y’all. We got caught up in work. Got here as quickly as we could.”

Another furrow was added to Mr Pie’s brow, and the corners of his mouth dropped another notch. “Still had time to make your mane all fancy, I notice.”

Mrs Cake, who had been conversing with Marble’s mother, quickly spoke up before Applejack could reply. “I’m sure she was just trying to make a good impression. Surely you’ll agree that it’s better than coming in here straight from the fields, work clothing and all?”

Mr Pie continued to scowl, but said nothing. Eventually he nodded, grudgingly.

“It’s all right, dears, the honeyed carrots weren’t quite done, anyhow,” Mrs Cake said, turning to Marble and Applejack with a kind, if somewhat tense smile. “Why don’t you two go wash your hooves and we’ll get everypony seated?”

Applejack nodded. “Sure thing, Mrs Cake.”

Marble followed Applejack towards the room’s other door. At the other end of the table, Blinkie and Flint were sitting across from a pair of tiny, adorable cream-coloured foals. Flint was uttering a bunch of gibberish nonsense and making ridiculous faces to the foals’ evident delight, if their squeals and giggles were anything to go by. Blinkie watched them with a little smile, but nodded in acknowledgement at Marble as she passed by. Pinkie scooted in between the foals and Mr Cake, adding her own brand of zany antics into the mix.

A delightful, mouth-watering smell of cooked and baked vegetables mixed with something sugary and sweet all but billowed against Marble’s face as they entered the kitchen. Several trays covered by aluminium foil stood on the kitchen table, and something else was slow-roasting in the oven, likely just there to stay warm at this stage.

Marble bit her lip as she watched Applejack trot over to the sink and turn on the water. Her cousin seemed calm now, but she remembered how badly the last meeting with her father had gone. Applejack stood tall, though; tall and proud and… and with the muscles in her hind legs tense, as if she were preparing to buck a tree.

“Hey,” she said softly, stepping up next to Applejack to wash her hooves as well.

“Hey, yerself,” her cousin replied. Her voice was friendly enough, but being closer, Marble noticed that it wasn’t just the muscles in Applejack’s legs which were taut; there was a vein in her neck which was preparing for a similar exercise.

“You, uhm…” Marble cleared her throat. “My dad, he’s… I know he may seem a bit abrasive, but he’s really not that bad once you know him.”

“Lotta ponies aren’t. Don’t make them any less of a pain in the backside those first few times.”

Marble continued to wring her hooves under the stream of water, even though they were more or less spotless at this point. “He just… He isn’t very good at expressing himself. Makes him sound kinda gruff most of the time.”

“Figured as much. Mac can be like that, too. Yer dad’s takin’ it a little far, though.” Applejack sighed and with it drained some of the tension in her muscles before smiling at Marble. “So are ya gonna stand there till yer hooves come off or what?”

“Uhm…” Marble looked down at her hooves still being splashed by water, then held one of them up to show to AJ with a little smile of her own. “Well, think they look clean enough?”

Applejack made it a point to inspect the hoof thoroughly and even went so far as taking it in her own to turn it around and inspect the back. “Well, I think I might’ve seen a hoof as clean as this one once. O’course, that one belonged to a fussy pony obsessed with keepin’ everything clean.”

Marble decided the giddy sensation she felt in her stomach as Applejack held her hoof was just a result of her being ticklish there. Of course, that didn’t explain why the ticklish sensation had traveled up to her stomach rather than staying put in her hoof like it was supposed to. “Rarity?” she asked softly.

“Got it in one.” Applejack let go and took a deep breath, letting out a little more tension when she exhaled. “I jus’ hope things turn out better this time. You ready?”

Marble nodded and straightened up, trying to mirror her cousin’s pose. “Ready,” she said, putting on her best confident smile. “Don’t worry, it’ll be all right.”

Applejack smiled back and pushed open the door, taking a seat next to Pinkie after they had entered the room. Marble was about to sit down at the table end next to her cousin, but stopped for two reasons: Firstly, no one else was sitting at the other table end. Secondly, and much more pressingly, her father was giving her a pointed look, one foreleg resting on the empty chair next to him and opposite of Applejack. She hurried over to the appointed seat and sat down with a subdued apology; after all, it was rather rude of her not to have noticed the empty seat until now.

The Cakes disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, returning shortly after with the previously covered trays, their contents now unveiled in all their agonisingly appetising glory: roots, daisies, carrots, cauliflowers, corn and a wealth of other plants and vegetables, most of which were coated with a fine, thin glaze of honey.

Marble’s mouth watered at the sight of so many things they would have considered luxury delicacies back home, and she wasn’t the only one. The whole table had fallen silent, all eyes on the enticing meal arrayed before them.

“Well, thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Mrs Cake said, smiling warmly. “I know Pinkie really appreciates it.” Pinkie nodded enthusiastically in confirmation.

“We, ah, don’t really have a whole lot to say other than dig in, and, well, enjoy!” Mr Cake declared with a flourish of his hoof.

Marble’s father held up a hoof. “If I might ask we wait a few moments?”

The Cakes looked at him curiously, but nodded.

“Now that we’re all here,” he said, adding just enough emphasis on ‘all’ that Marble felt the little sting of guilt, “we would like to thank our hosts for their generosity, and to thank the Sun Princess for providing us all with the bounty of her blessings.”

Marble dutifully lowered her head reverently, as did the rest of her family, even though her stomach was protesting against this torture of procrastination.

“May She watch over us eternally,” the old stallion said, echoed by the other Pies. Marble kept her eyes down and her hooves neatly folded as was customary. After what felt like a full minute, but was likely just mere seconds, Mr Pie looked up again and nodded at the Cakes.

Mr Cake cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly and quickly put a smile back on his face, grabbing a spatula for the trays. “So, ah, Mrs Pie?” he said, his voice muffled somewhat by the instrument held between his teeth. “Would you pass me your plate so I can do you the honours?”

After her parents, Marble, Blinkie and Flint were the next to receive food, followed by Applejack and Pinkie. The poor foals were apparently still too young to eat solid food and made their displeasure over being passed by on the delectable food known in no uncertain terms, though they were somewhat mollified when Mrs Cake brought them each a bowl of something semi-liquid and not altogether unpleasant-smelling. Once the Cakes’ plates were full as well, Marble could finally dig into the meal that had been tantalising her for what seemed like hours.

For a moment, quiet fell around the table except for munches, crunches and appreciative noises as everyone simply enjoyed the food. Marble stole a few glances around the table at the other ponies in between bites. Pinkie, however, seemed to have forgotten most if not all of her manners from back home, her muzzle buried in the food on her plate with gleeful abandon.

At the other end of the table, the foals were giggling and cooing; it seemed as if as much of their food were going on themselves or each other as in their mouths. The unicorn foal flicked a little lump of the porridge-like substance on the other’s nose, making him go cross-eyed trying to look at it. Marble had to try her hardest not to laugh at the sight. When Mr Cake leaned over to the foals to gently admonish them, the pegasus foal reached up with a messy hoof and pressed it firmly against his father’s muzzle tip.

“Da!” the foal declared happily.

And then there was Applejack; Marble glanced at her cousin in silent awe as the mare helped herself to her third plate. Her stomach was a bottomless pit, or so it seemed, which made Marble feel less guilty about going for a second helping.

Her mother dabbed at her mouth with a napkin and smiled. “My compliments on the food. It’s some of the best I’ve had in a while. I especially liked the glazed honey on the parsnips.”

Mrs Cake smiled back graciously and inclined her head. “Thank you, dear, but we can’t take credit for that; Pinkie spent the better part of the afternoon in the kitchen making all this, glazing included.”

Pinkie beamed and leaned forward, whispering in a not-very-conspiratorial voice: “The secret ingredient is sugar! And more honey!”

“Ah. Of course,” her mother said, her smile flickering only for a brief moment.

“I learned it from the Princess!” Pinkie explained happily.

All of the Pies except Marble stared at Pinkie in blatant disbelief, although Marble was somewhat skeptical as well. Then again, considering she’s friends with Twilight…

Blinke and Flint spoke almost simultaneously. “You’ve met Princess Celestia?”

Pinkie giggled and shook her head. “No, sillies! Princess Luna!” When the wide-eyed stares persisted, she continued: “You know, Princess of the Moon! Good at spider tossing, likes a good prank…” She tapped a hoof against her chin. “Although I've met Princess Celestia as well, only... we never have a lot of time to talk.”

“You’re full of it,” Blinkie said, matter-of-factly. “There’s no way you’d have met one of the Princesses.”

“Yuh-uh! They're nice. Applejack met them too! Right, Jackie?”

“Yeah, we—”

“That’s a load of crap,” Blinkie spat.

“Limestone Pie!” her mother cried, horrified, while the Cakes rushed in vain to cover their foals’ ears with their hooves.

Blinkie pointed a hoof at Pinkie and glared at her. “If you’re friends with the Princesses, I’m the bloody Lady of Silver Lake!”

Pinkie held up her hooves placatingly. “No no, it’s true! Luna comes here every Nightmare Night and plays games with us and—”

“The Princess plays games with you?!”

“Uh-huh. We run away from her when we all pretend to be scared and she—

“Enough!” their father barked, making everyone at the table jump in their seats.

“—goes trick or treating with us,” Pinkie finished meekly.

Mr Pie fixed her with a disappointed glare. “You know better than to tell tall tales to your sisters like that, young filly.”

Pinkie shrank back, her ears pinned back against her head. “I… I’m not…”

“Actually, I met one of the Princesses earlier today,” Marble said timidly. She had no intention of becoming the target of her father’s wrath, but lying would be worse. She told herself she should feel good about telling the truth. It faded rather quickly when her father’s baleful stare fell on her, however.

“Marble, what have I told you about telling lies?” he asked sternly.

“I-it’s true!” she stammered, feeling the cold touch of panic seize her as her father’s scowl deepened. “Applejack was there with me! Her name is T-Twilight Sparkle! She’s the Princess of—of B-Books!”

Applejack suppressed a snicker. “Yeah. She’s the Princess of Books, alright.” She looked over at the Pie patriarch and said: “As Celestia is mah witness, I swear they’re tellin’ the truth.”

It was only after her father’s gaze had moved on, likely to settle on Applejack, that Marble remembered to breathe. It wasn’t blasphemy if it was true, right? She really had met a Princess.

“And why is it, then, that I have not heard of this supposed third Princess?” her father asked in the slow, measured voice that Marble was sure preceded another outburst.

“Her coronation was only recently. She's been living here in town for years now, and she comes in for pastries every so often,” Mrs Cake explained.

“She’s the town librarian. We passed her home on the way into town,” Mr Cake added. “It’s the house built into the large tree, if you recall.”

Mr Pie remained silent for a long while before grunting. His face returned to normal—which was to say that he looked around with only slight disapproval—and Marble let out a sigh of relief, silently thanking their hosts for their intervention.

“So, who wants some more glazed carrots?” Mr Cake asked with a bit of forced cheer, after which the dinner more or less resumed, barring a Pinkie whose lip was still quivering and an Applejack who had taken a break from eating more in favour of patting her friend on the back comfortingly.

The twins, who had become silent and wide-eyed during the brief outburst, were slowly becoming pacified and cheerful once more under the patient and fairly inventive antics of Flint. Pinkie watched them enviously from her place at the other end of the table, shifting restlessly in her seat. Being the only one to have finished her dinner yet, she was evidently becoming bored rather quickly.

Just when it seemed like things had settled down again and Marble turned her attention back to her food, Pinkie suddenly spoke up. “Hey, how about a limerick?” Before anyone could reply, she continued in a cheerful singsong voice:

“There once was a pony named Cake

Who liked to cook and bake

He loved a pony named Cup

Totally buttering her up

And look at the foals they both make!”

Marble almost choked on a slice of carrot, hardly able to believe what she heard but unable to stop the laughter bubbling in her throat, which did not get along well with the food she was trying to swallow. She knew of poetry, of course, and had even read a few pieces, but she had never heard anything so… so bawdy!

She was evidently not the only one to think so; Applejack was chuckling silently while Blinkie and Flint both stared at Pinkie, the latter with a grudging wry little smile on her lips. Marble’s mother looked shocked, and both of the Cakes look flabbergasted and more than a little flustered.

“P-Pinkie!” Mrs Cake stammered. “Not in front of the guests, dear!”

“Or the twins!” Mr Cake whined.

Pinkie, however, seemed to revel in the attention and positive reactions she got from the others. “Oh, I got another one!” she declared, turning her head to look at Applejack, mouth splitting open in a grin.

“It's a sight you don't always see

Ponyville calls her: Rarity

She's got fashion smarts

And breaks ponies' hearts

But she's big on generosity!”

“Be nice to her, Pinks!” Applejack chastised, even though she was almost breathless from laughter. The twins giggled excitedly as well, though they were probably more entertained about the rhyming than the meaning of the words.

Marble smiled as well, though she dwelled on Pinkie’s words for a moment. It didn’t really come as any great surprise for her to hear that Rarity was that kind of mare. She’s certainly pretty enough for it, she thought. Glancing over at Blinkie revealed that her sister likely shared that notion, though with a far less positive reaction, if the scowl on her face was anything to go by. Flint gently put a hoof on Blinkie's shoulder, which seemed to relax her just a little.

“Oh, oh!” Pinkie almost jumped in her seat. “How about—”

“Quiet,” her father growled. “Don’t tell that kind of tawdry filth at the table.”

Pinkie’s expression fell and she sank back in her chair. The Cakes exchanged glances, and Applejack frowned a bit at Mr Pie, though she said nothing. Marble winced internally, though she couldn’t help but feel relieved that another shouting match wasn’t imminent.

Biting her lip, Pinkie glanced over at the twins, who were watching her with puzzled expressions on their little faces. She hesitated for a moment before brightening up again. “Oh, does anypony want to hear a song?” she asked, looking around the table with a wide smile.

Applejack gently reached out with a hoof towards Pinkie’s shoulder. “Not yet, Pinks. Folks are still eatin’—”

Pinkie bobbed her head from side to side in time with her lyrics.

“When the rain's a-plinking on your roof-tip-top

And you're sitting snugly in your chair

But you wanna go on out with a hop-di-hop

Oh, you just—”

There was the scraping noise of a chair being pushed back, followed by a hoof slamming into the table with such force that the plates all clattered and one of the glasses fell off and shattered against the floor.

“Pinkamena Diane Pie!” their father bellowed so loudly that Marble instinctively clutched her ears and cowered. Pinkie, who had been mid-bounce in her song, flailed her legs frantically for a moment before falling head first against the table edge. Applejack was with her almost instantly to help her back on her hooves. Tears were welling up in Pinkie’s eyes as she clutched her forehead with her hooves, behind which a nasty bruise was already forming.

Marble risked a glance up at her father, though she almost wished she hadn’t. She could scarcely recall ever seeing him so livid. The party hat had fallen off his head when he stood up and lay forlorn on the floor next to the glass shards.

“I’ve had more than enough of your inane ramblings and infantile antics! I came here hoping to find you had at least matured a little, but every single moment here has been nothing but a disappointment!” he snarled, drawing himself up to his full height. With how slumped he had become with age, it was easy to forget just how large a stallion he actually was. “You are every bit as irresponsible as the day you ran away from home, and I am ashamed that you still carry our family’s name!”

The words seemed to hurt Pinkie as much as if he had slapped her across the face. More so, in fact. She quivered from head to hoof, her eyes moist and threatening to overflow. “B-but—”

“And you should be ashamed of yourself! You abandoned your home and your family to do what? Throw parties? Make balloon animals? All those letters you sent, filled with nonsensical babbling about frivolous things you waste your time with! You are supposed to be a grown mare, yet you live and act like an overgrown foal! Is this what you threw us all away for?!”

There were a few sobs followed by full-blown wailing as the twins at the other end of the table began screaming their lungs out. Mr Cake frantically did his best to try and soothe them to absolutely no effect, Mrs Cake being too mortified by the old stallion’s words to help out.

The twins weren’t the only ones crying; tears ran freely from Pinkie’s eyes as well, shrinking further and further back into Applejack’s protective embrace. “Don’t listen to that old coot, Pinkie,” Applejack said, glaring balefully at Mr Pie. “He’s just full of sh—”

“You’re a failure, Pinkamena.” The old stallion all but spat the words out. “You’re a failure as a pony, you’re a failure as a daughter, and that is all you’ll ever be.”

That was too much. With a final heart-wrenching sob, Pinkie tore herself loose from Applejack’s grasp and ran out the door. The sound of her hoofsteps sprinting up the stairs echoed through the room. Everyone had fallen deathly silent except for the twins, who continued to bawl their eyes out. Marble stared, horrified and wide-eyed, at the stallion she called ‘father’. At the other end of the table, Flint was half out of his chair, his face wracked by indecision, while Blinkie’s expression mirrored Marble’s own, though she was rapidly slipping towards anger. Her mother was still seated, but even she looked appalled at her husband.

Slowly, very slowly, Applejack rose from where she had been sitting with Pinkie. Her whole body was taut with pent-up aggression, and her eyes all but smoldered with anger. For a moment, Marble feared she was going to charge at her father, straight through the table and everything, and try to punch him, or worse. From what Marble had seen so far, her cousin could snap her father in half like a dry twig, if she really wanted to. Before Applejack could do either of those things, however, she was brought to a halt by Blinkie’s voice.

“You lied to us,” she said in a faintly trembling voice.

Her father turned his head to look at her with a scowl. “I don’t—”

“About the letters,” Blinkie continued, shrugging off Flint’s hoof and pushing past her mother until she was face to face with the old stallion. “All these years, you told us Pinkie hadn’t written to us, but you just said she’s been sending us letters!”

“You—”

“And I spoke with the mailponies here in town today! They told me Pinkie’s been sending a letter every week on the dot ever since she moved here!” Blinkie’s voice was rapidly escalating in volume until she was all but shrieking. “You’ve been lying to us for ten years! Ten! Bloody! Years!”

“Limestone Pie—” he barked in his most authoritative voice, but his words were quickly drowned by Blinkie’s far louder voice.

“Don’t ‘Limestone’ me!” she shrieked back, jabbing an accusing hoof in his chest. Her father took a little step back, probably more from shock that his daughter would lay a hoof on him than from the force of it. “You made me hate her, you bastard! You made me hate my own sister! Why?! Why would you do that?!”

The old stallion glowered at her, looking more indignant than anything else. “I did it to protect you! Had you read the letters, you might just have been tempted to follow her. A city like this, with no rules or boundaries, is no place for a young filly to be in! She spent half the time pursuing her hedonistic whims of soft living, and the other half making up ridiculous stories! If even half of them were true, that’d be all the more reason for no daughter of mine to ever set hoof in this place!”

“They’re all true, ya blisterin’ git!” Applejack yelled, stomping closer to him and completely ignoring Marble who was caught between them. “Stopped Nightmare Moon? We did that! Beat down Discord? We did that! Savin’ the whole soddin’ Crystal Empire? We did that! And you’d know it to be true iffen ya didn’t live with yer head stuck up yer backside!”

Mr Pie whirled towards her with a snarl. “Don’t you start! You’re part of the problem! If you knew Pinkamena even a little, you’d know she has an overactive imagination, and you and the others feeding her flights of fancy just makes it worse!”

Marble had to interpose herself between Applejack and her father to keep her cousin from reaching him, but the larger mare simply stretched her neck above Marble’s head, glaring venom at the old stallion. “You callin’ me a liar, sir?”

“Not just a liar! You and your friends are lazy good-for-nothing layabouts who wouldn’t know work if it bit them in the rump. I know you’ve already been trying to rot Marble the way you did Pinkamena! I will not let that befall another of my daughters, and if your parents think your behaviour is allowed, then they should be ashamed of themselves!”

A pained look flashed over Applejack’s face, momentarily replacing the anger. Mr Pie’s eyes narrowed with vicious intent. “Or perhaps they are ashamed of you, and that is why they refused to speak with us when we visited your ‘farm’.”

“Dad!” Marble looked over her shoulder at her father, horrified at his behaviour. She had never known him to be so… so callous. She felt Applejack try to push past her and instinctively turned to block her cousin’s path. She had a brief, awful moment to realise her mistake when she saw the steely anger in Applejack’s eyes focused solely on her father before she was roughly shoved aside with enough force to send her stumbling over the nearest chair.

For a brief moment, in a strangely detached kind of way, she was left to wonder why the ceiling was swimming and why her hind legs were pointing at it. The other voices in the room, though still audible, were oddly slurred. Chief among them was her father’s voice.

“What do you think you’re d—”

The rest of his words were cut off by a sickening crunch followed by a cacophony of screams, shouts and the sound of splintering wood that snapped Marble’s senses back into focus more effectively than a bucket full of ice-cold water. She scrambled to her hooves in time to see her father lying on his back amid the remains of a chair and clutching his muzzle with his front hooves, behind which a steady stream of blood leaked. Applejack towered over him, quivering with rage and her right front hoof still half-raised. Blinkie watched them, her expression torn between shock and vindictive satisfaction. Mrs Pie and Mrs Cake both stood with a hoof clasped over the mouth, while Mr Cake rushed off into the kitchen with the wailing, terrified twins, frantically whispering soothing nothings to them and trying to cover their eyes and ears simultaneously.

Scarcely had the kitchen door closed shut before Mrs Pie rounded on Applejack, pointing a trembling hoof at her and looking more angry than Marble could recall seeing her in a long time. “You! You thug! You beast! Get away from my husband! Don’t even think about laying another hoof on him!”

Applejack ignored her, her eyes still focused squarely on the old stallion on the floor. He glared back up at her, laboriously pushing himself up with one hoof while trying to staunch the bleeding with the other. “Feel proud of yourself, girl?” he said, his voice slightly slurred. “You want to hit me again, don’t you? Shouldn't expect any less from a brute like you. Well, go ahead. I’m sure it’ll make your family so proud.”

It was like watching a sheep goading a wolf to attack. Marble saw Applejack’s front hoof rise, her cousin’s expression one of raw anger. In her dazed state, one thing was abundantly clear to Marble: Her idiot father was going to get himself maimed, or worse, if something wasn’t done. Head still spinning, Marble bounded forward and did the only thing she could think of.

She charged straight ahead, ramming into the side of her surprised cousin and wrapping her forelegs around her, bringing them both down to the floor. Applejack twisted reflexively as they fell, and Marble heard—and painfully felt—the long table groan under their combined weight as they collided with it on the way down.

Even though her right side ached fiercely from where she had hit the edge of the table, Marble quickly rolled on top of Applejack and pinned her cousin’s forelegs down with her hooves. “Stop it, Applejack!” she implored. “Leave him alone!” Applejack looked at her in stunned silence, the anger rapidly draining from her face.

“That’s my girl!” her father said behind her. There was genuine pride in his voice which made Marble feel queasy. She glanced behind her and saw her father pushing himself to his hooves, wiping away the blood trickling over his lips and glaring at Applejack with cold hostility. “Cloudy, Blinkie, get your things. We’re leaving!”

What?

In the brief moment that Marble hesitated, Applejack stirred beneath her, pushing Marble off as if she was little more than a toy and disappearing through the door to the front. A moment later, there was the sound of another door being forced open, along with the sound of a merrily chiming bell.

Marble rolled over and stood back up with some effort, her head still spinning a little. Flint was easing her father into a chair, pressing a bunch of napkins to the old stallion’s muzzle. Her mother was behind them, whining and fussing over the old stallion. Blinkie was still just standing there, watching.

“Mrs Cake, could you get some more napkins an’ some ice?” Flint asked of the plump mare still standing frozen on the other side of the table. She nodded and went into the kitchen. The awful crying of the foals rang clearly from the other room in the brief moment the door was open.

Marble’s father waved a hoof dismissively. “Don’t coddle me, boy. I’ll be fine. Go get your things instead.”

“That’s gonna take a bit. They’re at the Apple family's farm,” Flint pointed out.

“Then you better get to it right away, don’t you think?” Mr Pie grunted, knocking Flint’s hoof away and taking the napkins himself. “And if you see that treelicker or her no-good parents, tell them—”

“Dad, please.” Marble didn’t know if her courage to interrupt came from the adrenaline still coursing through her, or from the fact that her normally so indomitable father had been knocked flat on his back from a single blow. “Don’t talk about them like that. Applejack isn’t—”

“Marble, don’t interrupt,” her father said sternly, though rather than making her curl up internally, the rebuke only served to increase Marble’s exasperation with her father. The kitchen door was nudged open again, and Mrs Cake returned with a pack of napkins and a bag full of ice cubes, carrying both with her teeth. “It’s clear her parents have no idea on how to raise a daughter. They’re as much to blame as—”

Mrs Cake dropped the napkins and bag of ice cubes unceremoniously on the floor next to the old stallion. “And you call her a brute?! Her parents are dead, you mule! Show some respect!” she snapped in a tone at odds with her previous warm demeanour. “The poor Apples are lucky to still even have their grandmother! Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go check in on your daughter!”

With that, she stomped out of the room to the stairs, slamming the door shut behind her. The living room was deathly silent for a moment. Marble’s father was dumbfounded, staring at the closed door, and it was her mother who eventually had to pick up the ice bag and fresh napkins and apply them to his muzzle. Marble paid neither of them much attention right then, though.

She had been right after all; the four names on the towel, Applejack’s pained and violent reactions to the shaming of her parents… Her thoughtless father had practically been stomping on a barely healed wound this whole time! And the years of lying to her and Blinkie, making them think the worst of poor Pinkie out of some demented desire for control… For a brief, fiery moment, Marble wondered if perhaps she would have been better off without a father. The thought was quickly quashed, though, and it made her feel ashamed to even think it. As bad as her father was, to wish for a kind of loss she had no way of comprehending was abhorrent.

She shook her head and looked back at her father slumped in the chair, this bitter old stallion with his broken nose and broken ideas of family, and for another brief moment, she felt a pang of pity instead. Where did it go wrong, Dad? she thought sadly. When did it stop being about us and became about you? Was it when Pinkie left? In the years after? Or was it before even that?

“Marble, Blinkie,” her father said wearily, his voice distorted by the blood in his nose and the ice and napkins pressed against it. “Go get your things.”

He looks so old. Did he always look this old?

Marble looked over at her sister, and the look in Blinkie’s eyes told her everything she needed to know. It was a moment of mute agreement and mutual understanding.

“Girls. Get your things. Now.” There was still the same authority in his voice, though it was diluted by exhaustion.

Taking a deep breath, Marble turned her eyes back to her father. Slowly, she shook her head, and it was as if a great burden was shook loose at the same time. “No, Dad,” she said.

He stomped a hoof onto the floor and half-rose despite Flint and his wife’s best efforts to keep him in the chair. Disbelieving indignation flashed across his features. “This is not a discussion! Get your things this instant!”

“We’re staying,” Blinkie said, and the gleeful satisfaction in her voice and on her face was unmistakable as she continued: “And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

The indignation turned to shock, then outrage. He twisted around and glared at his second daughter, pointing a hoof that trembled slightly at her. “One more word like that from you, Limestone, and I will tan your hide! Your things! Now!”

“Dad,” Marble said, almost gently, as she watched the impotent rage in her father’s eyes. He was like a predator past its prime; gaunt, toothless, limping, crippled. “We’re not going.”

“You’ll stay here with these… these city-ponies and hedonists rather than your own flesh and blood?” her father demanded, whirling back to face Marble. A look of hurt warred with the anger and bitterness on his face. It was almost enough to make Marble feel bad. Almost.

“We’re staying with our other family,” Marble said, unable to keep a note of anger from her voice. “The one you decided wasn’t worthy to be called that.”

“We’ll happily see you on your way, though,” Blinkie added with a vindictive smile. “Heck, we’ll even carry your luggage to the wagon for you!”

The old stallion looked from one to the other, his jaw working wordlessly. Little droplets of moisture ran from the ice bag and mingled with the crimson seeping from his nostrils, soaking into his muzzle and chin.

“Girls, please, can’t we talk about this?” their mother pleaded in a thin voice. Marble and Blinkie both shook their heads.

“We’re staying, Mom, and that’s final,” Marble said.

There was silence for several seconds. Marble absently noted that Mr Cake seemed to have calmed the twins down at last; the crying had stopped. When her father finally spoke again, his voice was dull and lustreless. His entire body was heavy with something so rare to see in him that it was almost uncanny: Defeat.

“Cloudy, would you get our things, please?”

His wife nodded mutely and quietly headed for the door, limping slightly on her bad leg as she went. After a moment’s hesitation, Marble followed; right now, Pinkie needed to know she still had family that cared about her.

Her mother gave her a wan smile as they ascended the stairs. “Did you change your mind about going, sweetie?” she asked hopefully. It was almost a little pathetic. “I know what your father said might have been a bit… harsh, but he doesn’t mean any ill by it.”

Marble shook her head firmly. “I’m going to check up on Pinkie. That’s all.”

“Oh.” The smile fell from her mother’s face, and they climbed the rest of the stairs in awkward silence. The top lead to a hallway with two doors on either side and a second flight of steps at the end leading up another floor. Marble could hear Mrs Cake’s voice echo down from it.

“Pinkie, honey, please just open the door. That’s all I ask.” There was a note of desperation in it. As Marble came closer to the stairs, she could hear faint, muffled sobbing as well.

Her mother stopped next to the second door on the right, pushing it open. “This is our room,” she muttered. Marble ignored her and headed up the staircase.

Mrs Cake stood at the top of the stairs, her left ear pressed to the door and distress written across every inch of her face. She glanced at Marble as she approached, a slightly puzzled look crossing her face for a moment.

“How is she?” Marble asked tentatively, climbing the stairs until she was right next to the plump mare.

Mrs Cake said nothing. The pitiful sobs from behind the door told Marble all she needed to know. “Pinkie,” the baker said gently, turning her attention back to the unyielding door. “Your sister is here to see you. Won’t you talk to her, at least?”

“Just so she can say goodbye?!” Pinkie yelled from behind the door, her voice thick with tears.

Marble winced; it hurt to hear her sister this distraught. Mrs Cake shook her head sadly and headed back down the stairs while Marble moved closer to the door. “I’m not going anywhere, Pinkie, I promise. Blinkie and I are staying.”

“Liar! Pinkie shrieked, her voice breaking. “I heard Dad yell! That’s what always happens when Dad yells!” She went quiet for a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice was so quiet that Marble had to strain her ears to hear it. “I get left alone.”

Marble shook her head fervently, even though she knew Pinkie could not see it, and desperately tried the door handle. It was locked, of course. “No, no, it’s not like that, honestly! We’re right here! We’re not leaving!”

Something heavy slammed into the door with enough force to rock it on its hinges, and Marble instinctively leapt back, almost tumbling down the stairs for it. “You’re lying! It’s just like it always was! I’m just a… a stupid little foal who likes stupid little things, right?! You don’t care at all! Just go away! It’s what you all want anyway, isn’t it?!”

“No! Pinkie, I promise—”

The door shook again, and the colourful wooden balloon cutie mark that decorated it fell to the floor. “Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! I don’t want to hear it anymore! Go! Away!”

Marble hesitated, wanting desperately to pound down the door and make her sister understand, but at the same time painfully aware that all she was doing right now was only making things worse. She swallowed and reached down to pick up the cutie mark on the floor, putting it back on its place before moving back down the stairs on leaden hooves.

“Just leave me alone,” she heard Pinkie whisper softly. “It’s what I deserve, anyway.”

Are you happy now, Dad? Is this what you wanted? Marble thought bitterly, blinking away the tears in her eyes. I hope you heard that. I hope you know how much you hurt her.

By the time she came back downstairs, Mrs Cake and Blinkie were clearing the table, and Marble joined them in doing so wordlessly. Blinkie in particular seemed to be in no mood to talk. Flint, meanwhile, had gone upstairs to help their mother with the luggage. Their father was leaning back in a chair, glaring resentfully at the ceiling while keeping the towel and ice pressed to his muzzle. The bleeding seemed to have slowed down, at least.

As Marble went into the kitchen with a bunch of dirty dishes, she caught a glimpse of Mr Cake quietly disappearing through the other door, the twins resting on his back with their eyes closed. She placed the dishes in the sink and began to rinse them, hearing another set of hooves coming back down the stairs, followed shortly by the chiming of the door bell; her mother and Flint—or more likely just Flint—moving the luggage to the cart, she assumed.

She had just finished cleaning the last of the dishes in the sink when Mrs Cake nudged the kitchen door open, balancing another stack of dishes on her back. “Let me take care of that, dearie,” she said gently as Marble was about to reach for another plate. “Your parents are getting ready to leave. You should see them off.”

Marble nodded silently and went back into the living room. Flint was helping her father to his hooves while her mother held the ice bag in her teeth. With Flint’s help, the old stallion limped along on three legs, the fourth keeping the towel to his nose. Blinkie watched him coldly as he passed by, only reluctantly following them to the front.

No one spoke a word as they stepped out into the dark. Flint led the way towards the wagon, which was parked next to the Cakes’ own cart between Sugarcube Corner and one of their neighbours. Mrs Pie looked fretfully from her husband to Marble and Blinkie walking behind them.

“Girls,” she said almost desperately as they neared the wagon. “Please, please reconsider. We can just… put all this behind her and forget it ever happened. Just come home with us.”

Marble felt bile rise in her throat despite her mother’s pleading tone. Forget it ever happened?! she thought, wanting to scream the words in her mother’s face. You want us to just forget Dad lied to us about Pinkie for ten years? You want us to just forget about her? That she’s up in her room crying because she thinks—no, because you did abandon her?!

She didn’t say any of it, though. From the disgusted expression on Blinkie’s face, she could see that her sister shared her sentiment, but unlike Marble, she had fewer problems in expressing her disapproval.

“Are you really that blithely stupid, or are you just willfully blind?” Blinkie asked, the corners of her mouth drawn back in a sneer. “This lying rat has been keeping us in the dark for all these years, and you just expect us to pretend everything is fine and dandy? Sorry, but we can’t all be like you, Mother.”

“Forget it, Cloudy,” their father growled, not even bothering to look back. “If they want to stay here, they can stay here for good. As far as I am concerned, I have no daughters anymore.”

The sheer coldness with which he said those words made Marble flinch, and they would have been all the more terrifying had it not been for the faintest little tremor in her father’s voice as he spoke.

“Well, believe me, they’re glad to be rid of you too,” Blinkie spat back, her voice dripping with venom. “They were the last daughters you’ll ever have for the rest of your miserable years.”

Their father froze and tensed for a moment, but then simply continued walking towards the cart. Flint looked from one to the other with concern written across his broad face. “Sir, Blinkie, I think you’re both bein’ a bit too—”

“Mind your own business, boy,” Mr Pie said wearily. “There’s nothing left to talk about.”

It’s not raining, a detached part of Marble’s mind observed. She glanced up at the overcast sky; her family was falling to pieces and tearing each other apart before her eyes. By all rights, there should be torrential, miserable downpour, with razor winds and rolling thunder. Instead it was only mildly chilly with a light breeze. It felt wrong.

“Hey, Blinkie,” she heard Flint say behind her, “can we talk for a second? In private?”

“Eh… sure, I guess?” her sister replied, her voice tinged with puzzlement. Marble heard the crunching of gravel under hoof as the two ponies moved away from the others. Presumably to snog, or something.

She watched as her father walked over to the front of the cart and tried to clumsily put on one of the two harnesses with his teeth alone. He dropped the ropes several times, and her mother eventually had to go help him.

“Pinkie was crying, you know,” Marble said softly. Neither of her parents so much as looked at her. “She was in her room crying because she thinks we're abandoning her. She thinks none of us care about her.” She took a step towards her father, hearing her own voice grow in volume in spite of her best efforts to keep it down. “Do you? Do you care about her at all?”

Her father looked up at her, his gaze heavy with age, exhaustion and—if Marble pretended hard enough—just a sliver of regret. “She made her choice,” he said evasively. “Just like you are doing now.”

Marble ground her teeth together for a moment. “That doesn’t answer my question,” she said when she was certain her voice was not going to quaver.

Her mother looked at her with something halfway between sympathy and exasperation. She opened her mouth to respond, but her father cut her off. “Cloudy, is the harness affixed properly?” The old mare nodded mutely, tugging at one of the straps for good measure.

“Why must it be your way or nothing?” Marble demanded, taking another step forward. “Pinkie just wants to live her life. We just want to live our lives! That doesn’t mean we don’t want you in it as well!”

Mr Pie nodded in acknowledgement his wife. “Get in the back, dear.”

“Dad, please stop and think for a second,” Marble said, quickly moving in front of her father before he could start walking. “How are you going to get the wagon back home on your own? What if one of the wheels breaks again?”

“Why do you care?” her father grumbled back. It was such a… a petulant and foalish response that Marble didn’t know whether to laugh or scream in frustration.

“Why? Why?! For Celestia’s sake, Dad, your nose is still a bleeding mess, you’ve got your crooked back, Mom’s got her bum leg, and you’re asking me why?!” She was almost shouting now, but she couldn’t help herself, and her father’s impassive face did nothing to soothe her temper. “I’ll tell you why! It’s because you’re being a big bloody brain-blighted bonehead!”

Marble’s chest rose and fell rapidly, little puffs of vapour escaping from her flaring nostrils. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a little filly quailed in terror and curled up in fear of the impending retribution for talking to her father like that. The greater part of her simply glared at this stubborn oaf of a stallion, daring him to speak up.

Her father opened his mouth to reply, but it was not his voice that spoke. “Marble’s got a point, sir,” Flint said. She looked over her shoulder to see him and Blinkie coming back towards them. Blinkie looked less than happy, which was hardly unusual, but at least this time it was all directed solely at their father. “Ain’t no way you’re gettin’ this big ole wagon back to the farm on your lonesome.” All eyes were on him as the younger stallion picked up the other harness and deftly put it on. “That’s why I’m comin’ along.”

“What?” Marble and her father said simultaneously.

“You’re gonna need help pullin’ the wagon, an’ if worst comes to worst, carryin’ the luggage the rest of the way,” Flint replied good-naturedly. “An’ the way I figger it, you could also use a hoof around the farm until the girls come back.”

“There’s not a blighted chance in Tartarus either of these fillies are ever setting foot on my farm again,” Mr Pie growled, glaring at the other stallion.

“As you say,” Flint said, nodding calmly. “Anyway, we should get goin’. Ain’t any daylight left to burn.” He smiled over at Marble and Blinkie. “You girls take care now, right?”

“Wait.” Blinkie trotted over to Flint and hesitated for a moment before giving him a kiss; a rather deep, hungry kiss involving a gratuitous amount of tongue. Marble swallowed involuntarily.

“That’s enough, Limestone!” Mr Pie barked, a dark scowl on his face.

Blinkie stepped in close to her father, smiling saccharinely. “Please, please break something else when you’re going back, won’t you, Daddy? Your hip, maybe?”

“Blinkie,” Flint admonished her gently, and the smile melted away in favour of a contemptuous sneer that she treated the old stallion to for a moment before moving back next to Marble.

Their father stared fixedly ahead for a moment before he wordlessly started moving. Flint followed suit, and together, the two stallions pulled the creaking wagon out on the street. In the back of the wagon, Marble saw her mother huddled under the canvas roof, silently looking back at her and Blinkie. The sisters stood and watched quietly as the cart rocked down the street. Only once it had faded from sight did they turn around to head back into Sugarcube Corner.

“Is that what he wanted to talk to you about?” Marble asked softly. “That he was going with them?”

Blinkie simply nodded.

“So… why did he?”

Her sister let out a little sigh and flipped her grey mane out of her eyes with a toss of her head. “He said he wanted to try to ‘smooth things over’ with Dad. He got worried about the old puke-stain talking about disowning us and all that crap.”

Marble was silent for a moment; that had been a lingering nagging worry of her own. “Do you think Dad’s going to do it?”

“I don’t care,” Blinkie said bluntly as she pushed open the front door to the bakery. “He and Mom can rot, if that’s what they want.”

“You don’t really mean that…”

Blinkie stopped and turned to face Marble. “Don’t I?” she asked, her face hard. “He wants to cut us off for not blindly obeying him? Well, he can bloody well do it. I’ll be glad to be rid of him.” Marble could almost believe her.

“Girls?” Mrs Cake asked, coming down the stairs with a tired and haggard look on her face. “I hate to sound rude, but could you please keep it down? We just got the twins to fall asleep.”

“Sorry, Mrs Cake,” Marble mumbled, and Blinkie looked suitably chastised, or at least disinclined to be picking another fight. “Is… is Pinkie all right? Has she said anything?”

The exhausted mare shook her head. “She still won’t talk to anypony. The poor dear; I can count on my hooves how many times I’ve seen her like this, but it hurts me every time. Sadness just seems wrong on a mare like her.”

Marble glanced at Blinkie, whose dour expression flickered to one of concern. “Maybe we should… talk to her,” her sister offered hesitantly, but Mrs Cake shook her head again.

“I wouldn’t try just yet, not after how she reacted to Marble,” she said. Marble winced internally at the memory. “You should wait until tomorrow; give her a bit to calm down.”

“Just how bad is it?” Blinkie asked, looking from Mrs Cake to Marble. “Like that time Dad told her to stop throwing so many parties?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t say anything about imaginary friends, but she was… violent,” Marble said with a little shudder.

Blinkie furrowed her brow a bit. “Violent how?”

“The door barely stayed on its hinges.”

“Oh.”

Marble bit her lip as she looked up the stairs. It might just be her mind playing tricks on her, but she thought she could still hear a faint sobbing from somewhere above. “Maybe Rainbow Dash knows how to help her. She mentioned she’s seen Pinkie acting in a way kind of like this before.”

“Who’s Rainbow Dash?” Blinkie asked.

“A pegasus. Applejack and I met her when we—” Marble’s breath caught in her throat. With everything that had been going on, she had almost completely forgot about her cousin. “When we were out in the orchard,” she finished in a faint voice.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to get a hold of Rainbow at this hour,” she dimly heard Mrs Cake say. “Her house is in the clouds, and she’s a heavy sleeper.”

“Right…” Marble nodded and glanced over her shoulder at the front door; she hadn’t seen Applejack since… “Uhm do you need help with anything, Mrs Cake? Otherwise I… Perhaps we should—”

Mrs Cake gave her a tired but kind smile. “It’s all right, dears, you head on back. We’ve had worse messes than this. We’re almost done cleaning up as it is.”

Marble returned the smile gratefully before turning to her sister. “You coming?”

“I guess,” Blinkie said, casting a look up the stairs. “You’ll keep an eye on Pinkie, right?” she asked at Mrs Cake, who nodded solemnly.

“We’ll watch out for her, don’t worry.”

Mollified, Blinkie followed Marble out the door and onto the street. They both paused briefly to look up at the window on the top floor of Sugarcube Corner. The curtains were drawn shut, but a bit of light still seeped through them.

“Do you think she’ll be all right?” Blinkie asked in a surprisingly soft voice.

Marble watched the curtained window for a few seconds more, but no shadow moved behind it. “I don’t know,” she admitted, tearing her eyes from the window and forcing her legs into motion.

They lapsed into silence as they walked, and Marble’s thought drifted back to Applejack. Was she all right? Had Marble hurt her during their struggle? And what about the things Marble’s father had said? Was she also in her room right now, miserable and alone?

No, Applejack was all right; she had to be all right. She was strong, stronger than both Marble and Pinkie. She could be hurt, yes—of course she could; she was still just a pony, after all—but she would carry that hurt stoically and with her head held high.

…Wouldn’t she?

Growth

by Squinty Mudmane

1: It starts with an idea

2: Taking a load off

3: Festivals and sibling troubles

4: The road to Ponyville

5: Capacity conundrum

6: Morning in the Apple house

7: Varmints in the fog

8: Laying the foundation

9: Family