Together
The sun was setting, casting its final rays of warmth and light over the snowbound landscape. As winter waned to its close, the air felt warmer, more alive, than it had in the darkest depths of December. But for now, and with Winter Rap-up still a fortnight away, those ponies who enjoyed the outdoors were making the most of the fluffy, pure-white snow for which Middle Equestria was famed.
Two such ponies were Applejack, proprietor and manager of Sweet Apple Acres - one of the largest single-crop orchards in all of Equestria - and her close friend Starlight Glimmer, former dictator of her own totalitarian township, now part-time guidance counsellor for the students at Princess Twilight's School of Friendship, in Ponyville.
After having confessed to her friends that she was suffering from major depressive disorder, Starlight had been almost overwhelmed by the outpouring of love, compassion and understanding from ponies whom, until just a few years ago, she had considered to be her mortal enemies. She had realised that, rather than her illness being something she would have to either accept and learn to live with, or be forced to struggle under its burden alone, she would always have the help and care of other ponies, who not only understood her plight, but were prepared to do anything they could to speed her recovery.
After the Princess had granted Starlight an indefinite sabbatical from her position at the School of Friendship for the sake of her health, the pink unicorn hadn't really known what to do to fill her time. This conundrum was answered willingly by her friends, who were taking it in turns to have her to stay, and, for the past few weeks, Starlight had been a guest of the Apple family.
As her stay drew to a close, Applejack had offered to take Starlight for a weekend of camping in the hills surrounding Ponyville; it was, in her words, "a great way to get Life out of your head for a while." Though initially reluctant, Starlight had eventually acquiesced, and now, as the two ponies trotted slowly back towards the Apple farm, she was glad she had made the effort.
"Thank you, AJ, for this weekend," she began, "I've enjoyed every minute of it. I didn't want to come at first, but I'm so glad you persuaded me to try it. You're right, I've hardly thought about my worries at all!"
The orange farmpony smiled warmly. "Ah knew you'd enjoy yourself when you were out here, sugarcube. Sometimes all it takes is a gentle push out the door."
The friends came to a brow in the path, and stood for some minutes to take in the glorious vista that spread before their eyes. The hill sloped gently away beneath them, with the valley below meeting high, cloud-capped mountains in the distance. Away to their right could, very far off, be seen Canterlot, its enormous gold-topped marble spires and arches fading almost to nothingness through the accumulated haze of so many miles. On the left lay the dark, brooding mass of the Everfree, the powerful sense of foreboding which lay over the forest now lessened somewhat by the light, glinting snow which had settled thickly on the tops of the trees.
Above it all rose the vast expanse of the sky, Domain of the Pegasi, its deep blue shades softening to mauve, yellow and red where the sun lay low on the horizon. Starlight sighed, peacefully, her breath vapourising in the cold of the evening air. "I wish every day could end like this one, AJ. Everything is so calm, and quiet, and. . . still."
Saying nothing, Applejack nodded to show her agreement. Together, the two of them gazed out over the scene, relishing the solitude, and finding a sense of freedom in the knowledge that there were no other ponies around for miles.
As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, and as the sky began changing hue once more, this time to dark blues and already, away to the east, inky blackness, Starlight breathed out, heavily. Sensing her companion's wistful mood, Applejack asked, "You okay, sugarcube? What're you thinking about?"
It took Starlight a long time to formulate her reply, and as she spoke, the first stars were just beginning to twinkle in the heavens above. "I love evenings like these, Applejack. But they make me sad, too. Because every time the night comes round the sunset is over. And I'll never, ever see it again. That day is gone, AJ. Gone for ever. . ."
She trailed off, and Applejack, sensing she was about to say more, kept silent. Eventually the unicorn continued, "That was a beautiful sunset, AJ. And I've had a really enjoyable weekend - I'd even go so far as to say that I've had probably the best weekend of my life. But how much of this will I remember, now that it's over, in years to come? Will I still feel the awe, the wonder, that that sunset brought me, in five years time? How about ten years, or twenty years? What about when I'm old, and Death is just round the corner - will I still remember the fun I had as a filly? Already I can't remember the names of all my schoolfriends, and they were ponies I thought I'd always know. . . Will everything good that ever happens to me just be forgotten?"
She shivered and, realising how cold it was becoming, Applejack pulled a cloak from her saddlebags and wrapped it round Starlight's withers. Then she stood close by her, laying a hoof over her shoulders, and gently pulled the saddened unicorn towards her, until Starlight laid her head against Applejack's neck. Together, the two mares stood, silently watching the sky darken and the distant village of Ponyville begin to glow against the backdrop of deep grey mountains, as the lamplighter went round igniting the gaslit streetlamps.
After some minutes, Applejack murmured. "Ah don't know, sugarcube. Ah don't know how much you'll remember, or what you'll forget. But that doesn't you should be sad for what's ended, or things you've enjoyed that are over. Ah've learnt that it's important to be glad something happened, rather than sad that it's come to an end." She paused, staring up into the sky, thinking about ponies she had lost. "There's always something about to end, Starlight. In a few minutes we'll have to carry on walking home, and you might not see a view this good again for months, or years, or maybe ever. But it we only cared about what was happening now, we'd never get to enjoy things which will happen in the future."
Starlight turned to look at her friend, and was surprised to see a tear beginning to well in the corner of her eye. As she nestled closer into the crook of the farmpony's shoulder, Applejack sighed; what she said next came as a shock to Starlight. "Sometimes Ah wish Ah'd spent more time with Ma and Pa. Oh, who am Ah kidding, Ah always wish Ah'd spent more time with Ma and Pa! Ah was so young when they. . . when they passed away, and little Applebloom doesn't even remember them at all. Ah loved them very much, and they knew that. But Ah wish I could've told them 'I love you', just one more time. But now they're gone, and Ah'll never get to tell Ma and Pa that I love them ever - ever again. . ."
She broke off, head downcast and eyes closed, as her shoulders shook with sobs of anguish. Starlight couldn't think what to say; she'd never known Applejack - or her siblings, for that matter - to ever even mention her parents, let alone talk about her own private regrets. So instead of speaking, she conveyed her love and concern for her friend by wrapping her in a hug, gently stroking the weeping mare's mane.
After a few minutes, and after her tears had died away to occasional dry sobs, Applejack regained something of her composure. "Ah'm sorry," she muttered, "This weekend was meant to help cheer you up, not turn into a sobfest for me. Ah hope Ah've not made you feel even more down, Starlight."
Starlight shook her head; she understood just how Applejack felt. "It's alright," she whispered, "I'm your friend too, remember?"
As the two mares began trotting slowly along the gravel path, which meandered down the hillside in no certain hurry until it eventually reached the main road which ran along the valley floor, Starlight posed a question to her friend. "How do you do it, AJ? How do you always seem so happy and - and - steadfast, somehow, when so much sadness has happened to you?"
Glancing at the unicorn, Applejack thought for a moment before replying. "Ah suppose," she said, "Ah just follow the advice my Ma gave me, just before she died."
She paused, and Starlight remained silent, allowing her friend to collect her thoughts. "She said to me, when Ah was feeling something like how you're feeling now, that if we're always sad for what's ending, we'll never be happy for what's coming. She would give her own life as an example, saying that, although she missed the simplicity of life before the rest of the Pears cut her off, if that part of her life hadn't come to an end, she could never had married my Pa, and would never have been able to experience the joy of being a mother. So even though Ah feel sad when Ah think of my foalhood and how it's over, Ah know that if Ah was a foal for ever Ah'd never get to enjoy being friends with you, or Rarity, or any of my other friends. So Ah suppose what Ah'm saying," she concluded, "is that even when things come to an end, there's always something new to enjoy."
Applejack fell silent, and for a long while the two pones walked in companionable quiet, not needing conversation to enjoy each other's company. Starlight considered all that her friend had said and, at long last, as the two ponies finally arrived at the main road, she broke the silence. "Thank you, AJ," she murmured. "Thank you for being so open with me about your parents. . . I know how hard you find it to talk about them. It means a lot to me that you would trust me with that."
She fell silent again, before continuing, "And thank you for giving me your Ma's advice. She sounds like a really lovely pony."
Applejack smiled appreciatively. "Thanks, sugarcube. You're right, it sure is hard to talk about them. But sometimes having a friend to talk to really helps, doesn't it?"
Starlight nodded, giving the first honest, real smile she had for a long time. Together, the two ponies turned to face the road ahead for the final stage of their journey home, knowing now how they could face the future:
The would face it together.