> Big Mac Goes A-Courtin'
>  by Nuttmeg
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Big Macintosh woke up, stared at the ceiling above his bed for a few minutes, and then decided it was time. He got out of bed, ran a comb through his mane and tail, placed a few necessary items in a handkerchief which he tied around a stick, and walked slowly downstairs to where his family was gathered around the breakfast table.
Granny Smith took one look at her grandson and smiled, a bit sadly, but with warmth.
“So,” she said, as he sat down at the table, “you're finally goin' courtin', are ye?”
Big Mac ducked his head bashfully.
“Eeyup,” he affirmed softly. Apple Bloom gasped. 
“Is it Marble?” she demanded. “It's gotta be her! You two were always together at Hearthswarming.”
“Eeyup,” Big Mac said, smiling at his oatmeal.
“Well, I'm happy for you, you sly stallion,” Applejack teased. “Now me an' Pinkie Pie'll definitely be related.”	
Big Mac scoffed, embarrassed, and dug into his breakfast, not meeting anypony's eyes.
“Applejack!” Granny Smith scolded. “It's bad luck to act too cocksure about a courtin', especially when he ain't even half started.”
“Yeah, Applejack,” Apple Bloom piped up, “don't jinx him. I like Marble. I'd love to have her as a sister.”
Applejack chuckled while Big Mac smiled broadly. 
“Well, shucks, so would I, sugarcube. In fact, to make up for any bad luck I may have brought on you, Big Mac, I'll point out that you've only met her in person once and our families... didn't exactly get along right off the bat. She might not even say yes.”
Big Mac gave a great hacking cough as about half his bowl of oatmeal went down the wrong pipe.
“But of course she'll—” Apple Bloom began, but then caught herself. “...I mean, if things don't work out with you and her, maybe Miss Cheerilee will take you.”
Big Mac's ears pinned themselves along his skull. Applejack laughed.
“Don't you fret now, big brother. You just get along over to the Pie farm and show her what you're made of. She'd have to be blind not to accept you.”
Big Mac shook himself, and went back to his breakfast. Halfway through his alfalfa he remembered something and raised his head.
“Um...?” Big Mac inquired of Granny.
“Oh, yes, of course!” she exclaimed. “Your letter. I'll go and write it this instant. The next train out thattaway is due in an hour and we don't want you to miss it.”
“How long are you going to be gone, Big Mac?” Apple Bloom wanted to know. Granny Smith tottered out of the room, muttering to herself about where she'd put her quill and parchment. “I want you to write me every day. No, wait, you'll be busy wooin' Marble. Write only if you have time. Oh, but I'll want to know how everything's going. Maybe—”
“I'm sure Big Mac'll write as often as he can, sugarcube,” Applejack said fondly, ruffling her little sister's hair. She pouted slightly as she straightened it.
“Eeyup,” Big Mac promised. Apple Bloom's pout turned to a grin as Granny Smith came back into the room, holding a sealed letter delicately in her mouth. She passed it to her grandson, who tucked it away in his pack.
“Well, I suppose that's everythin',” she said, and then sniffed, dabbing at her eyes with her apron. “I never thought I'd live long enough to see this day. You be good and work hard out there, y'hear?”
“Eeyup.” It was hardly a promise. One didn't need to promise that the sun would rise.
“Let's all go see Big Mac off at the station!” Apple Bloom shouted, bouncing out of her seat.
“Sorry, sugarcube, that's not the way it works,” Applejack told her. “We can go as far as the gate to the farm, but he's got to go the rest of the way himself. It's tradition.”
“Oh.” Apple Bloom drooped. Big Mac took her in his arms and gave her a firm squeeze.
“I'm sure gonna miss you, little sister,” he murmured. She squeezed him back with all her might, and then let go, standing next to Applejack and trying bravely to keep the tears down. It was more grown up than Big Mac had ever seen her, and he hugged Applejack a little harder than he meant to to keep his own tears in check. 
He was more careful with Granny Smith, and then he stepped back, gave them all a nod, and plodded purposefully out the door, using all his strength not to look back.

As the train rolled away from the stone building, Big Mac allowed himself one tiny moment of nerves, stamping his right back hoof hard on the ground several times. Then he shook himself, squared his shoulders, and began the short walk to the Pie family farm.
The rock farm was much more plain in late spring than it had been in winter. The snow of Hearthswarming had softened it somewhat, and the glow of the crystals and the Hearthswarming lights had made it seem almost cozy. Now it was just a severe, unmitigated gray with sharp edges everywhere, not a blade of grass in sight, much less a tree. Undeterred, though a bit more nervous, Big Mac made his way down the path to the Pie family home and knocked on the door.
After several moments spent sweating, the door finally opened a crack and Cloudy Quartz's pale face came into view. When she saw Big Mac she opened the door all the way and gave him a nod.
“Big Macintosh,” she greeted, stepping aside to allow him entrance. “Verily, it is good to see thee again. Come and sit, and partake of some pebbles as I prepare the midday meal. Igneous shall be in shortly.”
She set out a bowl of little round stones for him, and Big Mac braced himself. He was not about to be rude, and it wasn't as though he hadn't been expecting this. Maybe pebbles were easier to chew than full rocks. Besides, Marble ate this sort of thing every day. He could hardly do any less. Taking a small hoofful of rocks, he popped them in his mouth and began to chew. Oh, horseapples. These were even harder than the rocks at Hearthswarming had been. After a solid minute of chewing he'd made hardly any headway. Was he supposed to suck on them? Their flavor was slightly sweet, somehow, but not sweet enough to register as candy. Then again, the Pies as a whole did not seem like the type to indulge in sweets very often, Pinkamena notwithstanding.
The door opened, revealing Igneous Rock, and Big Mac gave up and swallowed the pebbles whole, gagging silently. Igneous walked over and offered his hoof for Big Mac to shake, which he did, willing himself not to choke.
“It is well to see thee,” Igneous Rock said, as behind him Limestone came through the door, followed by Marble. At the sight of her Big Mac felt a jolt, like his heart was an apple and someone was trying to buck it off the tree. “For what purpose hast thou journeyed to this our humble home?”
Big Mac reached into his pack and took out the letter Granny Smith had written him. He passed it to Igneous, who opened it and began to read. Marble, meanwhile, was staring at him bashfully, and he gave her a tiny but heartfelt grin before turning back to Igneous, whose permanent frown seemed to grow deeper the longer he read. When he finally finished he placed the letter on the table and sat down.
“Sit,” he said to Big Mac, who did so. Limestone picked up the letter and began to read it, her eyes darting back and forth rapidly. “So,” Igneous intoned, looking at Big Mac dourly, “thou wishest to pay court to my daughter.”
“What!” Limestone growled as she apparently got to that point in the letter. She glared deeply at Big Mac. Marble, on the other hand, blushed so hard that surely it hurt, gave a squeak, and ran out of the room. Big Mac hoped that was just nerves. “What makes you think you're good enough for my sister, huh?”
“Silence, Limestone,” Igneous commanded. 
“But, Father—”
“Thou mayest be head of this rock farm, but thou art not head of this family. Sit down.”
Growling, Limestone sat with a thud. Cloudy Quartz stood behind her husband, looking a bit less severe, but also a bit troubled. If he was being honest with himself, Big Mac had to admit he'd expected things to go a bit more in his favor than they seemed to be going. That was no matter, though. Marble was worth any amount of trouble. He kept himself as straight as he could and looked steadily at Igneous Rock, who seemed to be studying him.
“Verily, thy interest in Marble hath not escaped our notice. That Pinkamena values thee and thy kin is surely a mark in thy favor, as is the offer contained herein.” Igneous gestured to the letter, still in Limestone's grasp. “Therefore, according to the terms laid out by Granny Smith, we shall hire thee for a term of one season, at which time thy suit shall be formally considered.”
“Father!” Limestone shouted, almost drowning out the lightness growing in Big Mac's chest. “We don't need any help!”
“Thou knowest that we do,” Igneous Rock said, frowning even deeper. “Thou hast been ever on the lookout for hired help.”
“Marble's too young to get married!”
“I wast younger than she when I was wed to thy father,” Cloudy Quartz pointed out softly.
“He doesn't even like rocks!” Limestone argued, but it was clear even to Big Mac that it was a last-ditch effort.
“That ist not a requirement, daughter,” Igneous Rock said gently. Limestone groaned, and then thrust a hoof at Big Mac.
“Tell me this then, Apple,” she said menacingly, “what do you have to offer my sister? An apple orchard? How is that going to keep a roof over her head? A rock farm isn't bound by the seasons. You can't even harvest anything more than once a year!” 
Igneous did nothing to stem his daughter's accusations, and in fact looked at Big Mac thoughtfully without saying anything, as though he too desired an answer to that question. Big Mac cleared his throat.
“We've got more'n just apples. We also grow corn, potatoes, wheat, carrots, and squash, and we sell pastries, cider and zap apple jam. We also rent out land for local events. Last year we took in 400,000 bits for a 50,000 bit net profit, and this year we expect to do even better. Our net worth is 1.2 million bits. And I've got a one-third share in all of it, held in trust by Granny Smith Apple to be inherited upon her death.”
He really didn't like to be a braggart, and he certainly didn't think those numbers made him anypony special. But it did give him a small feeling of satisfaction to see Limestone's scowl morph into shock, and then into grudging respect.
“I guess that's okay,” she said with apparent reluctance. Igneous Rock adjusted his glasses, which had gone askew in surprise.
“Verily, the Apple family hath done well for itself,” he muttered, and then turned to Limestone, raising an eyebrow slightly. “Hast thou any more objections, daughter?”
“Yeah, one,” Limestone growled. “He can't sleep in the house while he's here.”
Igneous hmm'd. Big Mac had wondered about that. The bunk beds they'd stayed in for Hearthswarming were usually reserved for the Pie sisters, but they had been gracious enough to give them up and all pile into the guest bed. However, as a stallion courting a mare, he could hardly sleep in the same house as her.
“Thou shalt sleep in the silo,” Igneous declared, and that was fine with Big Mac. It was apparently also fine with Limestone, but only just. “Now only one thing remains.”
Cloudy Quartz went to the bottom of the stairs and called for Marble, who shuffled slowly down, eyes darting briefly to Big Mac before ducking her head to hide behind her hair entirely. She came to a rest beside her father, staring at the floor with bright red cheeks, and Big Mac knew he'd never seen a sight more lovely.
“Marble, this young stallion doth wish to court you. What say ye?”
Marble glanced at her father, glanced at Limestone and her mother, and then finally made eye contact with Big Mac. Her little smile broadened, and her blush, still bright, softened to a pink glow of happiness. Big Mac couldn't have kept from returning that smile even if his life had depended on it. Marble took in a deep breath, let it out, and nodded. 
“Mmm-hm!”
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Lunch consisted of... normal pony food, Big Mac was surprised to find. It was a little on the plain side, but there were carrots, turnips, rolls, and even a bowl of oats for every pony at the table.	
“Don't be too disappointed, Macintosh,” Limestone ordered. “We only have rocks on special occasions.”
“Mm-hm,” Marble agreed, taking a delicate bite of her carrot. Big Mac grinned at her and dug in to his oats. He was just fine with this being a normal occasion.
“Oh, and you're working with me today,” Limestone informed him. He stared at her. “I don't want you getting distracted. Or you either, Marble!” she added, when Marble turned to her, frowning. Marble ducked her head at her older sister's tone, and Big Mac stifled a sigh. He had a whole season, he supposed. No sense rushing things.
“Tonight I shall prepare quartz quiche in honor of thee, our guest,” Cloudy Quartz told him, smiling. He smiled back, a bit painfully. Marble's glow of happiness distracted him from the impending dinner, however, and he wondered if quartz quiche might not be as bad as it sounded.
“All right, come with me, Apple,” Limestone ordered as soon as she was finished. Big Mac chomped down the rest of his lunch and followed her out the door with one last look back at Marble, who gave him a tiny wave. Limestone sighed in disgust and shut the door. 
They walked for several minutes until they reached a mine filled with crystals, where Limestone was apparently already in the middle of opening up a new section. She pointed at a pile of debris near a shallow depression in the rock wall.
“Take all that outside to the gravel pit. You'll go left when you leave the mine and go past the feldspar beds, take a right, go through the megabreccia and it should be obvious.”
Taking a pickaxe in her mouth, Limestone walked to the end of the section and started chipping away at it, leaving Big Mac to his task. He spotted a small cart near the entrance to another branch of the mine and began loading it up with broken rocks. When it was full he hitched it to himself and started walking. Judging by Limestone's pace, he figured he'd be able to keep up with her without too much problem. Hauling heavy carts was hardly a difficult task for him, after all.
He didn't know what a feldspar bed would look like, much less what a megabreccia was, but a gravel pit seemed like an easy enough thing to find. He reached the entrance, turned left, and immediately saw a flat plain full of little translucent pink rocks, obviously partitioned off. Nodding to himself, he dutifully walked past the bed and turned right. At first he thought he saw rocks in the distance that seemed worthy of being called something with the prefix “mega,” but as he came closer they turned out to be only about as big as he was, and he didn't see how one could go through them in any way. Taking a few steps past them, he looked around, hoping for some clue as to where he should go. The flat plain stretched out before him, devoid of any more rocks, but containing, Big Mac observed with a sigh, a fence. He'd reached the edge of the farm without seeing a single thing that looked like it could be called a gravel pit.
Big Mac hesitated. He could go back and try to figure out where he'd gone wrong and possibly wander around forever, or he could go ask Limestone to give him new directions and humiliate himself in the process. Neither prospect was appealing, but it seemed to Big Mac that he simply had to choose between getting the work done or his pride, and while he had plenty of the latter, the former was, as he'd tried to inform Applejack many times throughout her life, far more important. And he could hardly, he thought with a mental grimace, be a hypocrite to his little sister, now could he?
With a painful sigh, and not a little bit of dread, Big Mac turned around and walked back to the mine. His teeth clenched and his ears down in annoyance, he plodded up to Limestone and said,
“What's a megabreccia look like, exactly?”
Limestone turned around, and for a second Big Mac was sure he saw something in her expression that was pleased. She certainly didn't seem surprised.
“It's a rock,” she said slowly, “that has lots of little rocks embedded in it.”
Big Mac nodded, turned to go, and then turned back one more time.
“What's a feldspar bed look like?”
Limestone heaved a great sigh and rolled her eyes.
“It's a white, rectangular stone,” she explained, again at a speed and tone reserved for the very stupid, “with small striations and high opacity.”
Striations was a new one to him, but he knew perfectly well what opacity meant. He nodded again, and walked briskly out of the mine, determined to make up for lost time.
This time he walked past the little pink rocks and eventually found a bed of small white, rectangular stones. The path to the right of them was obviously well traveled, and it was only a minute before he came to a large rock shorn down the middle, the path winding through it. As he passed through the gap, large enough for three of him to walk abreast, he observed with interest the small boulders and large rocks embedded in it like seeds in an apple. Once through, the ground fell away, revealing a large pit full of broken and jumbled rocks. He dumped his cartload in and trotted back to the mine, satisfied.
The pile had grown. Significantly. 
“Hurry up, slow poke, we don't have all day!” Limestone growled at him as he entered.
“Eeyup,” he said grimly, and got to work filling his cart. This time he trotted his way to the pit and cantered back, the empty cart rattling behind him.
The pile was even bigger than it had been. By a lot.
Big Mac stared at it. Then he stared at Limestone, chipping away at the stone at an almost leisurely pace, and then stared at the pile some more. Frowning, but not yet ready to draw any conclusions, he filled his cart once again and cantered his way to the pit, keeping his pace to a canter on the way back in deference to the poor cart.
The pile was even bigger this time.
Big Mac took in a breath, fixed a glare on Limestone, and then hesitated. He was not exactly new to hazing or pranks, and he knew perfectly well that simply calling her out would not only lead nowhere, it would certainly not endear him to her. Were she simply an employer, that would hardly matter, but she was his potential sister-in-law: future family, if all worked out. If it were Applejack pranking him the last thing he'd do would be sit there and whine about it. No, if this were Applejack he'd simply get even. Big Mac let out the breath he'd been holding and smiled.
“What kind of rocks are these?” he inquired as he slowly, not too slowly, but not very quickly, filled up his cart with rocks.
“That stuff is just gabbro and basalt,” Limestone said, waving dismissively. “I'm digging for quartz and gypsum, or malachite, if we're lucky.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, lifting the last rock into the cart. He walked casually out to the entrance, but once there he broke into a canter, dumped his load as fast as he could and galloped back, willing the cart to stay together.
The pile had grown, but less than before. Limestone shot him a glare as he calmly and unhurriedly filled his cart and plodded easily out of the mine, this time making it to the gravel pit and back in even less time than before.
Aha! The pile was actually smaller this time. She had added to it, yes, but not as much as he'd taken away. If he kept this pace up he'd win!
She seemed to be catching on, however, because she no longer pretended to be working at a normal pace in front of him. Slowly, he increased his own pace as he loaded the cart, and slowly she matched him, every time, until both of them were working as fast as they were physically able. Big Mac was pouring sweat, and every so often it would spill into his eyes, making them sting. He paid it no mind. He didn't have time to wipe his brow, and besides, he knew the route by now. Limestone was gaining on him. He had to win. The satisfaction of seeing that pile reduced to nothing drove him until finally Limestone bellowed,
“Alright, alright, enough already!”
He stopped, breathing hard, the pile only as high as his chest. Limestone stood panting as well, and it was several minutes before she found breath enough to speak.
“You work hard,” she rasped, her voice rougher than ever.
“So do you,” he told her. He'd never seen someone decimate a rock wall like that.
“I still don't like you,” she growled, but there was no bite in it. Big Mac chuckled breathlessly.
“Ain't here to make you like me,” he said. She glared.
“You better be good to her.”
“That's the idea.”
She peered into his eyes, sizing him up, and then snorted.
“Get back to work, Macintosh,” she said dismissively, but there was no real ire in her voice. Big Mac smiled.
“Eeyup.”

Quartz quiche was exactly as bad as it sounded. 
“Dost thou desire seconds, Big Macintosh?” Cloudy Quartz inquired. Big Mac was tempted to say no, but he caught Marble's gaze out of the corner of his eye and had no choice but to acquiesce.
“Eeyup.”
Smiling, Cloudy Quartz cut him another slice and slid it onto his plate with a high-pitched clink. Big Mac had never had a quiche that went clink. He was having a lot of new experiences today. Dutifully he took another bite, the ache in his teeth overpowered by the sight of Marble's gently smiling face across the table from him.
“How goeth the opening of the new deposit?” Igneous inquired of Limestone.
“Not bad,” she said. “It's going faster than I planned, but I think it'll be worth the effort. How long do you think the rocks in the south field have left before we need to rotate them?”
“But a fortnight remains, by my estimation.”
“Good, I think I'll have the new shaft open enough by then that Marble can start working on it. You ready, kiddo?”
“Mmhm.”
“Any problems in the west field today?”
“Mm-mmn.”
There was a short silence filled only with the crunching sounds of chewing. Then Limestone added, speaking to no one in particular,
“Big Mac did alright, I guess.”
Marble beamed at him.
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Only a few hours remained of the Apples' visit. Apple Bloom was asking Maud about her cutie mark, and Maud was patiently telling her the story, and just as patiently answering Apple Bloom's constant interruptions with questions about rocks. Granny Smith was deep in conversation with Igneous and Cloudy, and Applejack and Pinkie Pie were in the kitchen having a grand old time, by the sounds of it. Limestone was with them.
Big Mac looked over at Marble, her hair glowing in the light of the fire, and felt something in his chest he'd never felt before. Marble looked over at him and smiled, and he smiled back, the feeling growing. They stayed that way for a few moments, just looking at each other. Then Big Mac gestured to the door with his head, a questioning look on his face. She hesitated, then nodded shyly.
Together they quietly slipped out the door into the brisk December air.
They walked for a while without talking, taking an ambling path around the farm. Big Mac let Marble lead, content simply to share silence with her. After a few minutes, though, she stopped and looked up at him thoughtfully.
“Hmmm...” she said. There was the faintest hint of a question tacked on the end. Big Mac nodded.
“Eeyup.”
Marble smiled, and turned them around, leading him down past Holder's Boulder. She glanced at him several times as they walked, and always she caught him smiling contentedly, which made her blush and look away. Eventually they reached the entrance of a mine filled with crystals reflecting shades of pinks and blues and greens, sprouting up out of the floor and hanging from the ceiling and even growing out of the walls. Big Mac felt his eyes go wide. He looked down at Marble, who was watching him in anticipation. When it seemed she had determined his reaction to be positive, she smiled a secretive smile and lead him further into the mine.
After several turns along a path that sloped down and then up and then down again, they came to a group of crystals that grew in an almost perfect circle. She walked to the center of the circle and sat down, then beckoned him in when she saw him hesitating. He sat down next to her, closer than he might have chosen to be otherwise, but the space inside the circle was not very big. Marble closed her eyes, breathed for a moment, and then opened her mouth and began to sing wordlessly.
It was not a tune Big Mac was familiar with, but it consisted of only a few repeating phrases in one key, and after a few iterations he was familiar with it enough that he thought he could hum along if he wanted to. He considered doing just that, but before he could open his mouth he realized that there was another sound underneath Marble's singing, a sound that was growing slowly louder. He lifted his ears and pointed them in every direction, but the noise didn't seem to be coming from any one place. In fact, it seemed to be coming from all around them. It was the crystals, he realized after a few more phrases. The crystals were ringing in tune with Marble's song.
The humming from the crystals grew louder the longer Marble sang, and when they were just on the cusp of overwhelming her voice, she opened one eye to glance at him, almost nervously, and then closed her eyes again and changed her song. Most of the ringing in the background died away, with only one or two crystals still singing, but soon more of them began joining in. She did this several times, and after a while Big Mac realized that she was playing the crystals like an instrument, using her voice to make them vibrate. The very idea was shocking in its beauty, though more beautiful still was Marble's execution of it. He wondered if there were any crystals in the circle that would respond to the deep tones of his own voice. The next time she changed key, he took a deep breath and joined in.
Her eyes flew open in shock, but luckily she did not stop singing. Big Mac smiled at her and then closed his own eyes, trying to find a crystal that would respond to him. He was an entirely self-taught singer, and he regretted his lack of formal education a little now, but eventually he caught one in his voice and felt it thrumming in the air around him. He risked a glance at Marble, and she was peeking back at him, her face bright with delight. His singing almost faltered then, but he shut his eyes again and concentrated. The deeper tone swelled, growing louder, until Marble switched keys and he scrambled to match her again.
The music continued like that—Marble switching keys and making Big Mac chase her across the musical staff—until finally their voices grew tired and they held the same, pure note, she two octaves above him, for as long as they could, the crystals thrumming louder and louder in answer. When it was almost too loud to bear, Marble reached out and touched his shoulder with her hoof. Their voices fell away together, the ringing immediately dying down as though the crystals were relieved to be finished.
Big Mac opened his eyes, and found Marble smiling up at him through her hair. He grinned foolishly down back at her.
“Beautiful,” he breathed, and she seemed to know he wasn't just talking about the music. 
> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	After the dinner dishes had been cleared from the table Marble brought out a large tool box and set it down on the table with a thud. Limestone gave a loud guffaw.
“Showing off, huh, kid?” she laughed. Marble huffed in annoyance, blowing her bangs away from her face with a puff of air before ducking her head and letting them fall back down. Limestone tousled her mane with her hoof and went into the kitchen, still chuckling. Big Mac could see Marble blushing, but with apparent determination, she opened the tool box and began pulling out beakers and bottles full of strangely-colored liquids and brushes and small picks that looked like dentist's tools. With somewhat cautious curiosity, Big Mac sat down to watch.
After a few minutes spent arranging her tools to her liking, Marble left the room for a moment and returned with several ordinary-looking gray rocks about the size of her hoof. She set them on the table to one side and then selected the biggest one and picked up a brush. Dipping the rock in a bowl filled with water, she set to brushing it vigorously. Every so often she would dip it back in the water or turn it in her hoof, studying it carefully. Eventually she seemed satisfied and set it aside, picking up the next rock and giving it the same treatment. To Big Mac, the rocks seemed no different. They had not been particularly dirty before, and they remained the same gray shade they had always been. But her movements were so sure and deft it was obvious he was watching a master at her craft. Whatever craft that was.
After all the rocks had been satisfactorily cleaned, she carefully poured a beaker full of a sickly-green liquid into another bowl and used tongs to gently place each rock inside so that none of them were touching. After a few seconds the liquid began to fizz, tiny bubbles building up on the surface of the rocks. When the bubbles grew large enough to disengage and rise to the top, they took tiny flakes of the gray rock with them, slowly revealing their secret: underneath the dull, gray outer coating, they shone a brilliant crystalline white.
When most of the outer coating had been removed, Marble used the tongs to lift them out of the acid and placed them in a container of water to which she added something that looked like powdered soap or lye. Using a small stick she stirred the mixture until it was frothy, and then removed the rocks with the tongs and placed them back in the clear water. She rinsed them until they were clean, and then laid them on a cloth to dry, where they sparkled in the lamp light.
Big Mac didn't know a thing about rocks, and he knew very little about jewels. But he knew skill when he saw it.
“That was amazin',” he said, and he was not above admitting to himself that knowing the compliment would make her blush was part of the reason he'd said it. She blushed very prettily. 
“That was her special talent.” 
Limestone's voice preceded her from the kitchen. She came out a moment later, carrying a tray of small tarts, clearly containing rocks. Big Mac could hardly wait until his presence was less of a novelty and therefore did not demand special occasion food.
“Or part of it anyway,” she added, setting the tray down on the table and helping herself to a tart. “She polishes rocks.”
Marble refused to meet Big Mac's eyes as her sister spoke, but he had some idea of how to read silences, and he felt honored to be someone she wanted to share her special talent with. He smiled at her, tilting his head to be more in her field of vision. When she caught sight of him she gave him a little smile in return, and fidgeted with some of her tools. The silence stretched, and Limestone sighed.
“Here, Apple,” she said, shoving the tray towards him. “Marble, just talk to him already”
Marble's shoulders tightened, and she seemed to shrink in on herself. Big Mac gave Limestone a brief glare. He himself was not, despite what most ponies probably thought, particularly shy. But he did understand the desire for a certain amount of discretion and reserve, and being called out was not something he enjoyed either. He took a tart and then offered the tray to Marble, who gave an unhappy squeak and ran out of the room. Big Mac frowned after her, and then turned a baleful gaze on Limestone.
“What'd you do that for?” he demanded softly. She scowled deeply at him.
“Me?” she spat. “You're the one making her nervous.”
“I know that. Why did you have to go and point it out?”
“I was trying to do you a favor!” she shouted. “Guess I learned my lesson.”	
“I don't need that kind of help.”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
Limestone slammed back her chair and stomped out of the room. With a growl of frustration Big Mac also left the table and went outside, walking angrily towards the silo. The only pony he could ever remember getting this angry at was Applejack, and he supposed wryly that if he related to Limestone the same way he related to his sister, well, that was sort of the goal, wasn't it? He reached the silo and sighed, anger spent.
It wasn't as if he didn't know Marble was shy, though he supposed the word shy didn't really cover it. It wasn't something he'd thought would be a problem. She was quiet, he was quiet. From the outside it seemed like a match made in heaven. But while Big Mac was simply a pony of few words, strong and silent and happy with it, Marble seemed like she was afraid: afraid of drawing attention to herself, afraid of being heard. He wanted her to not be afraid. He wanted to know her, and for her to know him. And he thought she wanted the same thing. 
He shook himself, remembering that he was staring blankly at the silo door like a fool. He went inside and went to bed, trying to reassure himself. It was only the first day. He had the whole season. Limestone wouldn't be there all the time. He and Marble would have chances to get to know each other on their terms. Everything would be all right.
Big Mac fell asleep with a peaceful smile on his face.

Marble wouldn't look at him at breakfast, and in fact had to be coaxed and cajoled into sitting at the table at all. She ate quickly and then left, giving Big Mac one, tiny, almost despairing glance as she shut the door behind her. Igneous frowned thoughtfully after his daughter, but Cloudy did not seem surprised. She gave Big Mac extra oats and smiled at him sadly.
Limestone didn't say a word to him all day. She worked a hard pace, and gave him only ten minutes to eat his lunch before they were back out at the mine. The lunch table was Marble-less, and she was nowhere to be found for dinner either. Igneous went out searching for her, and came back alone wearing a deep frown.
Big Mac set down his calcite casserole, studying Igneous for any sign of Marble's condition. Igneous just sat down and sighed, glancing worriedly at Big Mac before stoically starting in on his dinner.	
Thinking furiously, Big Mac deduced two things: one, that Marble was physically fine but refusing to come to dinner, and two, that the Pie family was worried about what he was going to think about the object of his suit effectively running away from him and were trying not to draw attention to it. The first was simultaneously a relief and a source of worry, but the second, well. Putting himself in their hooves, it was easy to understand their feelings. They didn't know him, didn't know how he might react to the appearance of rejection, and doubtless did not know what to do about a daughter as determinedly shy as Marble was. And yet, there was another part of Big Mac that felt they were being a little disingenuous. He wasn't going to be deterred that easily, and if they thought he was then why in the hay were they letting him pursue their shy, delicate, beautiful daughter in the first place?
Big Mac took a steadying breath and stood up.
“Where is she?” he asked calmly of Igneous. Igneous looked at him in surprise. “I want to talk to her.”
Slowly, after a few moments, Igneous nodded.	
“Thou wilt find her in the south field,” he said. Big Mac nodded his thanks and walked to the door, ignoring Limestone's objections behind him, which he could faintly hear Igneous and Cloudy responding to as he shut the front door. He stopped in at the silo for a few things, and then plodded slowly to the south field, his brain chewing on thoughts like cud. Eventually he saw a small huddled shape, sitting under a withered tree, and he slowed his pace even further as he approached.
Big Mac knew perfectly well how physically intimidating he could appear. His general affability helped to offset his sheer stature, but he'd learned to take steps to minimize the effect he had on other ponies. When Marble noticed him he paused, giving her a friendly nod. Then he continued walking, not quite directly towards her, ignoring her nervous stance and twitchy hooves. He hoped she wouldn't actually run away. When he was still a little ways away, close but out of arm's reach, he stopped and sat down. She was still regarding him with near terror, so without making eye contact Big Mac took out the small block of wood and knife he had grabbed from the silo and began to whittle. 
At first, as he could see at the edge of his vision, she was only confused, but as the block of wood began to take shape, her expression took on more and more curiosity. When the wood was to his liking he found a stick lying on the ground and began straightening it with the knife. Once that was done he carved a small hole on the underside of the first piece of wood and wedged the end of the stick inside snugly. Putting the knife away he took the propeller toy in his front hooves and spun it, letting the toy leap out of his grip and float through the air. It came to rest near Marble, who had been watching it with open-mouthed wonder as it flew.
Haltingly, she stepped toward the toy and picked up it. With a glance at him to gain his permission (which he gave enthusiastically), she took the toy between her own front hooves and spun it. Again it leaped into the air, not quite as high, and made lazy circles around her at it descended. She gave an involuntary laugh of delight. Big Mac smiled to hear it.
Marble stopped, staring at the ground in thought, and then took a few steps toward him and planted her feet.
“I...” she began, and took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut. “I polish rocks. Any kind of rock. Even ones you're not supposed to be able to polish. I can make them all shine. I... it's my special talent,” she finished with a mumble, hiding behind her hair again.
They were the first words she had ever spoken to him. Her voice was soft and melodic, as sweet as her singing. Big Mac scrambled to his feet.
“My special talent is to make apples grow,” he told her eagerly in return. 
“I've... never eaten an apple,” Marble told him in a whisper. A small portion of Big Mac wept.
“I'll have my sister send some,” he promised. Marble pawed at the ground.
“I...” She looked up at him, and closed her mouth. Then she took a deep breath and opened it again. “You're nice.”
Big Mac could feel the blush growing on his cheeks. He kicked at the ground in embarrassment. It was probably the nicest compliment he had ever received, and he had no idea how to respond gracefully. He spotted the propeller toy on the ground and gestured at it.
“That's yours,” he said. “You can keep it.”
She blushed in return, picking up the toy and holding it in front of her, spinning it slowly.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Beaming, Big Mac turned toward the house.
“You must be hungry,” he said, gesturing for her to proceed him. She hesitated, looking at him for a long moment, and then ducked her head in a nod.
“Mm-hm,” she said, taking the first steps toward the house. Big Mac followed close behind, feelings of happy gratitude welling up in his heart and making him feel warm in the chill night air. He didn't quite dare brush his side against hers, but the thought that someday they might be close enough for him to do that made him grin like he was full of apple cider and not just sheer joy.