She always was, and still is, but you know how some things you see every day just seem all the more captivating, for whatever reason? That was her, sitting beside me in the chariot, looking out to the south — to Ponyville, and how it was slowly fading into the landscape — the last light of a fiery sun catching in her rainbow mane and sky blue coat, in her magenta eyes, upon that adorable nose of hers…
Stars, she was beautiful.
And she was anxious.
She didn’t say it, but we don’t need to say much to know what the other’s feeling; her smile was genuine, but there was a tension in her lips, furrowing her brows. It was faint, but it was there, and if I hadn’t gotten so used to seeing her alone with me, I’m sure I wouldn’t have noticed it.
But in that moment, I knew what she was worried about, and I quietly shimmied over to press my body against hers. To bow my head and nuzzle it under her chin. To feel her against me, and have her know that I was there. “What’s on your mind, sugarcube?”
She’s the sort who wants an excuse to get things off her chest, rather than relying on herself, and I’m more than happy to oblige. It makes me feel needed, and I like that.
“Nothing,” she said with a sigh, then unfurled her wing and curled it across my back, hugging me closer. I love it when she does that. “Just… thinking.”
“Well, I figured that much. Question is, what about?”
I could feel the pointed, reluctant glance in my direction. She’s just as stubborn as I can be, sometimes, but I guess that’s what worked for us in the end — when it came to supporting each other, we were persistent, and we didn’t let a little resistance discourage us.
“Them,” she confessed, softer than before, and less enthusiastic. If she even was enthusiastic to begin with. “How they’ll react. I mean, this is the first time you’re gonna meet them properly, so… you know. First impressions.”
“You worried they won’t like me?”
“No. I mean yes. Kinda.” She sighed again and draped her chin over my head, giving me a gentle squeeze with her wing. “It’s hard to describe.”
“Then take it slow, Rainbow. Start with what you know.”
She huffed a small, amused laugh through her nose. Even now, after all these years, she still needs me to remind her that we all need to relax every once in a while.
“I know they’ll like you,” she replied, tender and sweet — a side of her she’d been growing more and more comfortable with the longer we’ve known each other. “They don’t care that you’re a mare, or an earth pony, or anything like that. I know they’ll be happy for me, because I’m happy. And then they’ll want photographs and details and to tell the whole world about it. Unless I ask them not to.”
I produced a similar laugh. “Which might be for the best.”
“Yeah. Like, it’s not that we’re embarrassed by it, it’s just…”
“We ain’t out to make a splash.”
“Yeah.” Another squeeze, this time with an added hum, warm and friendly. “It’s just an us thing. No need to make it bigger than that.”
An ear of mine perked up, and then my smile widened. “Never thought I’d see the day when Rainbow ‘Danger’ Dash, of all ponies, didn’t want to be the centre of attention.”
“Hey, I like putting on a show as much as the next pony.”
I pulled away, but didn’t leave her side, and gave her a smirk as I cocked an eyebrow sceptically.
Her grin went from confident to sheepish in the blink of an eye. “Okay, more than the next pony.”
Nodding once, I hummed my approval.
“But that doesn’t mean I like showing off all the time.” She pressed her cheek to mine, and then nuzzled under my chin like I’d done with her, and it was the slow, tender, careful sort of thing, as if I could’ve disappeared if she let go. And it shed a weight I didn’t know I had off my withers. “You’re too important for that.”
Important.
I won’t say she’s afraid of using the L-word, but it’s never been her go-to label for describing how she feels; she cares about me, she worries about me, she likes and misses me. But love? No, that’s much too sappy for her. Or rather, she’s too awesome for it.
But I don’t complain. Not now, and not then either — I knew what she meant. When you can read between the lines without needing a dictionary, that’s when you know you’ve found somepony special, and I brought my forehoof up, reaching across to her shoulder and giving an equally tender hug. “You’re important to me too, Dash.”
“Heh.” She says that when she knows she’s been caught out. It’s her tell, and I adore it — the perfect amount of shyness from the likes of her. And as she pulled back to beam a subdued but appreciative smile at me, her wing rubbed itself up and down my back. “They’re definitely gonna like you.”
I beamed right back at her, then let my eyes glide shut and ears flatten as I leaned in to plant a kiss on the tip of her snout… and for a moment, I lost direction — couldn’t tell which way the sky was, or whether I was floating on my own. The chariot felt like it had vanished, and I was stuck in that weightless limbo you find yourself in before gravity makes you plummet.
But I wasn’t scared. I had no reason to be. Yes, we were a fair distance above the earth, and flying was still as foreign to me as air is to a fish, but she was there. She had her wing around me. She’d catch me if I fell, just as surely as I’d keep her grounded if she got anxious.
We shared another hug after that, and didn’t speak a word as the chariot continued sailing through the air, the pegasus at the helm steering us closer and closer towards our destination: the floating city of Cloudsdale. To be more specific, the residential district of the Southern Quarter, where we’d be disembarking at the house of a very special pair of ponies.
It was a visit long overdue, frankly, especially with the news we had to share. I’d met them once or twice before, but nothing beyond exchanging a few short sentences — they were mostly concerned with Rainbow anyhow. Never did understand why, for as much as they clearly loved her, and as much as I love her still. But maybe I would, I thought, now that we’d be having a proper talk about love and the like.
The air was cool against me. I had to dress warm for the altitude, not having the same tolerance for cold that pegasi do, so I’d thrown on a simple red hoodie from deep in my closet, though I couldn’t for the life of me remember how it had found its way in there.
I’d have gone to Rarity for something nicer, but she would’ve asked questions. Why buy winter clothes in the middle of summer? Was I going somewhere? If so, where? And since when had I taken a shining to casual-formal attire? She wouldn’t have stopped until I let something slip, and that would only have piqued her curiosity, and we all know how much she likes to play detective.
You can trust that girl with a secret, don’t you worry, but that doesn’t mean she’d let you get away with it. She’s cruel in her own kind and caring way.
Pa’s hat was in my lap for obvious reasons, and I’d done up my mane a little differently for once: twin pigtails. I’m not sure why. Maybe I wanted to impress these ponies I barely knew, whose opinions I didn’t ultimately need when it comes to deciding whom I want to spend my life with, and thought a new hairstyle would make all the difference. But that didn’t sound like me at all, so I just shrugged and put it down to a flight of fancy, and possibly an attempt to pretty myself up a bit for Rainbow.
She said it looked good on me.
I might’ve blushed.
And then we were off.
And now, here we were.
It wasn’t a street we’d arrived at, but a single dwelling — a cumulus, I’d heard these cloud-homes called. The pegasus pulling us came to a halt on what would’ve been the front yard, and we got off in short order, and I put on my hat as we did so; despite being so high up, there was no wind to blow it off while we were in the city limits, only a mild breeze. I suspected the local weather factory had something to do with it.
The air was clean here, free of all the smells that I’d grown used to. No soil, no grass, no leaves, no wafting aroma from somepony’s kitchen in the distance, or the lingering scent of a pony’s natural odour. Just atmosphere, and the faint fragrance of mist. It was an interesting experience, but not something I’d have liked to live with — too sterile for my tastes.
The pegasus called to us and wished us well, bowing his head with the dutiful precision expected of a member of the Royal Guard. He was taking orders from Twilight for the time being, and didn’t need a fare when a salary did him plenty. We thanked him and waved him farewell, and watched as he flew back in the direction of Ponyville.
He wasn’t the only gift from her, though, and when he’d become little more than a speck against the darkening sky, I brought a hoof up to feel it under the fabric of my hoodie, safely hidden below the collar. I didn’t want to take it out yet, just assure myself that it was there, and that the new and improved cloudwalking charm on it — courtesy of Twilight — was working. And it was, or else I’d have fallen right through and tumbled helplessly for the earth far, far below us.
Rainbow would’ve caught me, like I said, but it was better that she didn’t have to. So long as the love held, so would the spell, and I’m proud to say that for as long as we’ve been together, it’s never faltered. Not once.
If only I’d know what the rest of the evening would be like…
But that wasn’t on my mind then. I’d convinced Rainbow that everything would be fine and I had to maintain that outlook, or else I’d have been a hypocrite, and that wouldn’t sit well with me in any way; there are few sights more sorry than ponies who lie to themselves.
I turned to her.
She turned to me.
We smiled at each other, and it filled my barrel with a warm, bubbly feeling of resolve. We’d come this far. What was the harm in a couple extra steps? And besides, we were hungry, and Rainbow said these folks did some mean cooking — enough to rival Granny’s cinnamon apple pie. I was doubtful, but although we weren’t eager to make it a contest, there was no way I’d pass up the opportunity to disprove that particular claim.
“You ready, sugarcube?”
“Ready as you are.”
If I were in a better state of mind, I’d have told her to not be so dependant on me, but in that moment, with that tone of voice and the tender, devoted look in her beautiful eyes… sweet Celestia, I swear I could’ve floated away right then and there. And it was enough to make me close what distance there was between us and rub my body along hers once more.
Likewise, she draped her wing over my back and hummed contentedly. “I love you.”
And on the rare occasion that she does use the L-word, you know that it means something really special. “You too, Dash. You too.”
We stayed like that for a while, basking in the calm before the storm, safe in the warmth and embrace of the other. But eventually, as with all things, it had to come to an end, and Dash was the one to do it, giving my side a gentle nudge to get my attention, then nodding for the entrance. “C’mon, then. Let’s not keep them waiting.”
“Yeah.” I began walking with her toward it. “Moment of truth, huh?”
“Moment of truth.” She was silent the rest of the way, and when we arrived at the front door, she glanced at me one final time for assurance.
I only had to nod.
With a steadying breath and ruffle of her feathers, she looked ahead and raised her hoof. And then, after a moment to steel her nerves a little more, she tapped the button for the doorbell.
A simplistic musical jingle sang out, and past the barrier ahead of us, there came the flapping of wings as a pegasus rushed for the entry. “Bow, make sure the cookies are ready! They’re here, honey! They’re here!”
Rainbow sighed.
I nudged her shoulder with mine.
The door opened, and there her mother stood, beaming a grin as bright as the midday sun, eyes wider than dinner plates and echoing the same magenta hue as Rainbow’s. It was difficult to say who she was more excited to see.
“Hello, you two!” she exclaimed, settling for the midground as she lunged forward and wrapped her forelegs around our necks in a nice, firm grip — rivalling Big Mac on a good day, I reckon. “Oh, stars above, it’s so good to see you! And you too! My little girl and her girl! Merciful Sisters, you both look wonderful!”
Small wonder who Rainbow got her enthusiasm from.
“Okay, Mom,” she chuckled awkwardly, giving her a light pat on the withers — the universal signal to ease up a bit, “I think we get the picture.”
“But I’m just so happy!” She danced on her hindlegs as she continued to hug us, tail swishing and pressing our cheeks to hers. If her grip grew any tighter, I was worried she’d cut off circulation. “My baby found a special somepony, and she’s here!”
Well, I’d been told she wouldn’t mind what I was, and that was all the proof I needed; you can’t fake that level of passion. “It’s a pleasure, Missus Whistles.”
She blew a raspberry and finally let us go, and my head suddenly felt so much clearer as the blood started pumping again. “Please, call me Windy,” she said, waving a wing dismissively. “Windy Whistles. And your name is Applejack, correct? Or do you prefer AJ? Or Jackie? Rainbow sometimes likes to call you that last one.”
“Mooom.”
“Sorry, sorry!” She sat down and clasped both her forehooves over her mouth, her excitement reeling in a tad, but all that clearly did was put the lid on a boiling kettle. “Is that a girlfriend-only thing?”
“No, Mom, it’s a nothing thing.” Rainbow tapped my shoulder with a hoof, then her chest. “She’s Applejack, I’m Rainbow Dash. We’re friends. Good friends who… found something more.”
Back to her coy self, it seemed, and I smirked. Tempting though it was, I wouldn’t tease her, because it was clear by the imploring look in her eyes that this wasn’t something to be joked about lightly; she cared that Windy took this as seriously as she did, and with the same degree of modesty.
“And your daughter, Windy, is a fine mare,” I said, nodding to her, then turning my smirk on Rainbow, where it softened into a more sincere, heartfelt smile. “I can’t ask for better, ‘cause the best is right here.”
Rainbow’s ears flattened and her eyes faintly widened, lips parting just a fraction and a subtle blush rising to her cheeks. It was always easy to make her blush.
“Aww.” Windy gently shook her head, fit as a pressure cooker about to blow. “You two are so cute together. It’s like you were meant for each other!”
Rainbow winced, shutting her eyes for a moment, then angled her head and looked toward her mother with a pleading grimace and a lopsided smile, and her blush only deepened. “Please, Mom…”
“Okay, okay, let’s get this girl inside before she burns up,” I said with a chuckle, swathing a hoof around her shoulders to hug her close, then carefully squeezed through the doorway and past Windy. “Trust me, she’s worse than my brother, and he’s as red as the ripest apples in summer.”
“Oh, I know,” Windy said, nodding as she shut the door behind us, then stood up to trot ahead and show us the way. “Mother, remember?”
“Ah. Sorry.”
“No need to be! We’re all family here.” She flashed a meaningful, somewhat sly smirk over her shoulder. “Some closer than others, naturally.”
“Mooom.”
“Okay, alright, I’ll be quiet. But I’ll make no promises about your father!”
Rainbow groaned and clapped a hoof to her face.
I merely sighed to myself, both at how easily she was letting all this get to her and at the dynamic at play; it was something I’d never experienced much of, and yet it felt all too familiar.
The night was shaping up to be a very interesting one indeed.
The smell of warm, melted cheese filled the air, as well as the scent of freshly baked cookies — white chocolate in a fudge base, to be precise — and I was suddenly tempted to say their cooking was as good as Granny’s without ever actually trying it.
“What is it?” I asked hungrily, eyeing the deep, rectangular dish in the centre of the table. “Some kind of bread and pasta bake?”
“Mushroom, spinach and feta ravioli with tomato relish, topped with cheddar and croutons,” announced Bow Hothoof as he sunk the spatula into the surface and carved it up into eighths — plenty enough for seconds if anypony wanted it. “It’s been a staple meal between us for decades now. Windy introduced me to it, actually.”
“Well, I’m glad she did! It looks mighty good.”
“Oh, it is.” He nodded fervently as he reached over and took my plate, then slid a square portion onto it and gave it back. “I love making it, and adding a little variation here and there — spice it up every so often. That way, it’s like I’m repaying Windy here for sharing it with me in the first place.”
“Bow, you charmer,” Windy gushed, giggling abashedly and blushing as bad as Rainbow was earlier. It seems her daughter inherited more than just her enthusiasm. “But let’s not make this about us, alright? We have guests, and a very special one to boot.” She looked to me, more or less back to her original self, beaming her smile as bright as ever. “I wish we’d gotten to meet you sooner, Applejack. You have no idea how happy we were to hear Rainbow say that she’d found somepony, and then when we heard who… Well, it was just one surprise after another that day!”
“It wasn’t a big deal, Mom,” Rainbow remarked, trying to come off as cool and collected, but the sideways glance, shuffling wings and shifting weight said otherwise. “I was bound to catch somepony’s eye eventually.”
“And you did!” Windy exclaimed, offering Bow her own plate as she shared her excitement with Rainbow. But then she cocked her head and furrowed her brows inquisitively, glancing and pointing a hoof between us. “Or did you catch hers? Or was it a mutual attraction, maybe?” And then she gasped. “A love at first sight?!”
“No, Mom, it was… it was nothing like that.” Groaning, Rainbow folded her forehooves on the table and learned forward in her chair, burying her face in them. “You always do this.”
“Do what? I’m only expressing a healthy interest in how my child found love. Nothing wrong with that, is there?” Windy maintained a positive eager expression, but there was some concern in her eyes — a rising worry that only grew the more time passed. Until her smile faltered and she looked at me with flattened ears and upturned brows. “I’m not being overbearing, am I?”
I paused, glancing at Rainbow to gauge how she felt and it seemed that she was no better or worse. And then I returned to Windy and shook my head. “Nah, you’re fine,” I said, offering a small smile. “But since your daughter here’s bein’ tight-lipped about the whole thing, I guess I’ll have to take up the slack. So, what do you want to know?”
Rainbow pouted and gave me a sideways look, but it lacked any biting power; there are only two ways to deal with curiosity, and lying would’ve gone against everything I stood for, so that really left the truth. Honesty. And neither of us had any reason to be embarrassed about it, seeing as we’d come to accept the truth ourselves.
“How’d it start?” Windy queried, reaching over and retrieving Rainbow’s plate to give to Bow.
“You mean how we met?”
“No, I mean… you two. This connection.”
“Oh.” I nodded understandingly, then sat back in my seat and looked up in thought. “Well… I’m not quite sure, honestly. I mean, if you’re out for a tale of star-studded romance, heartwarming confessions and the like, that wasn’t us. It ain’t us. It just started off with friendship, and then…”
“You found something more,” Bow finished, regarding me with a tender gaze and an easy smile as he returned Rainbow’s plate, now with a steaming square of mouth-watering, tummy-rumbling goodness. “Yes, I heard from the kitchen. And I think you’ll be happy to know that that’s how we started too.”
“You and Windy?”
“Mm-hmm. Worked as a pair of couriers back in the day, delivering mail here and there. We were just two plucky teenagers then, trying to scrape by on what money we could earn. But eventually, we figured that… well…”
“We were available,” Windy continued, placing a hoof on his shoulder almost as if to reassure him, but the smile she wore was too flattered for that. “And with the opportunities for a traditional romance growing slimmer and slimmer the longer either of us waited, we thought we’d give each other a shot.”
“Lo and behold, one dinner became two, then three, then five or six, or however many there were.” Bow served himself and grinned with a sense of nostalgia. “Before we knew it, we were going steady. Real steady. And I couldn’t think who else I’d enjoyed spending so much time with.”
Realising that it might’ve been some time before I got to speak again, I decided to dig in, cleaving away one of the topmost ravioli pieces and making sure to take a crouton and as much cheese with it as possible. And even before it had reached my mouth and I chewed on it, I was savouring the aroma. And the taste itself… Let’s just say that after that night, Granny had a lot of ground to cover if she wanted to make it back into first place cooking.
For one of the few times in her life, growing fewer ever since, she hadn’t been exaggerating.
“He was just sitting down to serve us this when…” Windy began, then drifted off, a crease in her brows forming as her gaze grew distant. And then she blinked and cleared her throat, brightening up once more. “Well, we’d known each other for upwards of three years by that point, dating for six months, and later that evening, he… suggested that we should get married.”
“And you said yes?” I asked.
She smirked. “I wasn’t going to say no.”
I chuckled, glancing between her and Bow as I started breaking apart my slice into another bite-sized portion. “That was sweet, Windy. Mighty cute. And I’m glad that it happened, or else I’d never have met this girl here.”
“Yes, well, it certainly wasn’t the easiest, uh…”
My ears twitched while I chewed, quirked an eyebrow, expecting an end to the statement.
But nothing came, and Windy merely shook her head again. “Anyway, you… didn’t tell us how you two started seeing each other in a new light. There wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment moment, was there?”
It was a rather quick change of subject, and it made me wonder what she’d been trying to say, but I supposed that ponies were allowed to make mistakes and try to backtrack. Heck, if I’d been able to reverse a dozen things I’d done in the past, perhaps I’d have become the Princess of Friendship instead of Twilight, or never moved away from home to live with a branch of the family in Manehatten for a spell, or even…
Well, there were a lot of ways history could’ve played out differently.
“Not really.” I looked at Rainbow for a moment, who now seemed a little more like herself, even sporting a passive smile as she met my eyes. “I mean, I guess there were a few points… but I suppose the same could be said for any relationship. We liked spendin' time together even when we weren’t off savin' the world, and gradually… we started recognisin' how close we were gettin'. Emotionally.”
“There was nothing that really caught your eye?”
“Not immediately, no. But she was always good lookin’ — I’ll never deny that.”
“Pssh.” Rainbow shrugged and turned away, waving a flippant hoof. But for all her efforts to make it seem like it didn’t affect her, she’s as bad at bluffing as I am. “You’re only saying that for their sake.”
“But it’s the truth, ain’t it?” I smiled at her again, reaching a hoof over and placing it upon hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You know I don’t lie.”
She returned to me with a shy, flattered smirk, and it shared a warmth I’d long since come to crave — to see and feel its tenderness every morning, day, evening and night. It’s a side of her that she always had, but needed the right pony to help her not be so afraid to show it. And I don’t mean to brag, but I think I played my part quite well.
“She gets it from me,” Bow commented, running a hoof through his mane as he got himself comfy in his chair. “It’s the rainbow hair. Glad it snagged her a mare as well.”
“Bow!” Windy exclaimed, batting at his shoulder with a wing and an amused if slightly affronted grin. “Don’t make it sound so simple. There was a lot more I liked about you than just how you look. And I’m sure these two feel the same way.”
“Yeah,” Rainbow confirmed, nodding. And then a thought struck her and she slumped a little. “I mean, no offence or anything, Dad, it’s just, like… Well, looks are a factor, but it’s not all I care about — all we care about. If that were the case, I think we’d both have fallen head over heels for Fluttershy; that girl’s built like a supermodel!”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “She don’t know how good she has it, does she?”
“Nope! Well, maybe she does, but she never brags about it.”
“Unlike you.”
“Exactly!” She slapped the table excitedly, then snapped to me and blinked. “Wait, what?”
My chuckle boiled over into a laugh. She really could be clueless sometimes, and that only added to the charm. Occasionally, she still is, and I love her all the more for it; no matter how many years pass, some ponies never change with it. That’s stubbornness for you, and Rainbow and I know all about it.
“So, you can’t think of any reason why you’re attracted to one another?” Bow queried after finishing a mouthful of his own. “Not that I’m complaining or trying to poke holes in what’s obviously a perfectly healthy relationship, but… you know, as a romantic myself, I feel like there has to be something that connects you — why you two and not, say… Rainbow and Twilight. Not that I mean to imply anything.”
I hesitated, raising a furrowed eyebrow despite his assurance. But even though we’d only been properly introduced to each other less than half an hour ago, I could tell that he wasn’t the sort to try and drive a wedge between us. He and his wife were way too honest with themselves for that.
And there was something else tripping me up, I realised, and it made me chuckle.
“You’re startin’ to sound like our other friend: Rarity. Girl can’t keep a thought to herself if it involves romance, and it takes all five of us — plus Spike, sometimes — to get her to shut up about it ”
“Yes, Bow, stop it.” Windy giggled and batted at his shoulder again. “Let the poor girl be.”
“Okay, okay, alright, I’ll stop.” He lifted a foreleg to defend himself and leaned away in his chair. “I was just curious.”
She retracted her wing, but lingered on him for a few moments to make sure the message sunk in — more a gentle reminder than an actual warning — then she returned to me. “Forgive my husband. He’s sometimes a bit too inquisitive for his own good. Not that I’m much better myself, granted, but… at least I check to make sure I haven’t crossed any lines.”
“Well,” said Rainbow, “I think it’s because we were too similar to ignore.”
Our collective gaze fell on her, ears perking up.
She appeared a little wary with the sudden attention, eyes widening just a touch, but she maintained her composure and nodded once in affirmation. “We were both competitive. At first. We’ve come a long way since then, but… yeah, we started off competitive. And that’s kinda what clued us in on how alike we were — me being awesome, her being… amazing…”
That got a bashful smirk out of me. Hearing her speak openly about us is always a nice thing.
“…But over time, the more we learned about ourselves, we stopped being that bullheaded pair of stubborn tomboys and started being actual friends. Not to say we weren’t before, but… you know. A more typical friendship. And when things started settling down after Twilight became the one and only princess, we suddenly had a lot more time to play with.”
“She’d swung by the farm before,” I added, figuring I might as well have thrown in my two bits. “A few times, actually. More than a few, really, especially when cider season came around — and your daughter is a hefty drinker, I’ll tell you that much.”
“I don’t have a problem.”
“Maybe not, but she sure is addicted to the stuff.” I gave her shoulder a bit of a knock and chuckled. “But anyway, yeah, she’d swung by before, usually to annoy me and my family in the most delightful ways she knew how, and then find an apple tree to nap in afterwards, but over time… she sorta started invitin’ herself over for dinner. You know, stayin’ late enough that we basically had to ask if she’d like to. She never refused none because—”
“Granny Smith,” Rainbow cut in, and by the look on her face, it didn’t seem like she noticed that she had. “She’s getting on in years, but man, that mare can cook. Not as good as you two, so don’t worry, but there hasn’t been a single meal of hers that I haven’t liked.”
I could’ve said that it was bold of her to think that I didn’t mind having my own grandmother play second fiddle to her parents. I would’ve enjoyed her desperately trying to backtrack and fumble around for an apology on the spot. But I didn’t. She hadn’t meant any harm by it, and for as much as I enjoyed entertaining the idea, this meeting was too important to her for me to make her feel any worse about it.
“She’s definitely one of a kind,” I agreed, nodding idly. “But as time went on, it turned out Rainbow here wasn’t just showin’ up for the free service.”
“Is that right?” Windy raised her brows with an innocent smile and cocked her head to Rainbow.
Rainbow merely shied away, blushing again.
Stars, she could be so cute sometimes.
“Yep,” I answered, then sighed as I thought back on the day. “There was this… late afternoon in winter, just last year before Hearth’s Warmin’. There was a fog in the air, and I was strollin’ through the orchard, checkin’ in on all the trees and how they had no leaves anymore, when all of a sudden, she dropped in outta nowhere and stole my hat. Naturally, I asked for it back all kind-like, but I knew from the look in her eye that she weren’t gonna have none of it. No, what she was after was a snowball fight.”
“I was bored,” Rainbow defended, shrugging, but the upward curl in her lips betrayed her fondness. “Twilight was helping Spike put something together for Rarity, Rarity was at the spa with Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie was working full-time at Sugarcube Corner. My weather duties were done for the day, so I thought I’d head down to Sweet Apple Acres and see what AJ was up to.”
“Now, I wasn’t in the mood at first, but after she goaded me a little… Well, it ain’t always easy to refuse an invitation from her, especially when she’s wearin' the smug kind of grin that makes you wanna smack her outta the air. You know what I’m talkin’ about.”
“But she fell for it.”
“That I did. And as I recall, I thoroughly whooped your behind into next week.”
“I let you win.”
“Uh-huh, o’course you did, because you’d always intended on gettin’ sucker-punched square in the jaw by a hoofful of powder.”
“It wouldn’t have been fair otherwise!”
“And I bet it was also your plan to let yourself get pinned against that tree?” I could still see it fresh in my mind at the time, the light of a low-hanging sun coming in from behind me, my shadow cast over her, the snow beneath our hooves and caught in each other’s hair and fur. The way her daring grin relaxed into something far more… affectionate. The way those beautiful magenta eyes almost seemed to glow while in the shade. The way my chest began to feel tighter at how close we were and the look she was giving me, like a knotted rope being pulled to its breaking point.
Rainbow turned to me, still smiling. “It wasn’t my plan, but… I don’t think it turned out so bad. You said I was pretty, after all.”
In that moment, I couldn’t help myself. I’d said it without meaning to, and when it was out there, I couldn’t take it back. And I didn’t really want to: it was the truth. I’d always had trouble keeping my opinions to myself. It just so happened that in that particular instance… it was the right thing to say. “You said the same about me.”
Her smile grew. Not by much, but enough. And then she noticed the adoring looks her parents were giving us. “We didn’t kiss, let’s be clear,” she insisted, shaking her head and making a cutting motion with her hoof. “Our first was, like, half a month later, while we were stargazing in the barn. But then? We just… stared at each other for a while, catching our breath. And it was nice.”
“Intimate,” I confirmed, but like that moment in the orchard, it came out like a whisper — as if I hadn’t meant to say it, but couldn’t help myself. And when I realised that I was lingering on her, studying the outline of her face, the soft dimple in her left cheek, how her nose curves at just the right angle… I blinked, cleared my throat and returned to the parents. “Well, if you want a point where we started takin’ an interest in each other, I guess that’s as good as any.”
“It’s sweet,” Bow said, nodding, then tucked into his slice again.
Windy had her hooves to her mouth, brows upturned and ears pinned back, switching focus between us and sharing a look of pure adulation. In fact, the faint shimmer of water in the corners of her eyes were beginning to shine through, and I felt the tug of a nerve pull at my chest, running up and down my spine and prickling at my scalp.
She was proud.
Not just for Rainbow, but me too.
And…
…I couldn’t be sure how I felt about it.
But I didn’t let it show.
“You’re perfect,” she mouthed, shaking her head as she lowered her hooves, placing one over her heart and beaming at me shakily. “Both of you. You’re just… perfect.”
“Glad you think so, Mom.” Rainbow looked to me and squeezed my hoof. “We think we’re a good match too.”
“Obviously,” Bow exclaimed with a laugh, “or else you wouldn’t be dating!”
“Oh, we’re a bit more than dating.”
There was a pause.
Another nerve tugged at me, perking up my ears and widening my eyes, weighing down on all of my insides like a lead ball dangling from a string. It sent a chill across my withers and filled my stomach with a terrible sense of unease.
The parents watched Rainbow with blank stares.
Mine was a little more restless.
Her smile wilted into a confused and slightly anxious frown. “What?”
Bow blinked, hesitant. “Well, I… suppose it’s only natural.”
“Huh?” She cocked her head, confusion growing, then baulked and recoiled in sudden understanding. “Oh my stars, Dad, no! That’s not what I meant!”
“Then how do you mean?” Windy queried, cocking her head in turn.
I felt a lump form in my stomach. There was only one thing Rainbow could’ve been referring to, then, and the prickly feeling of that nerve hadn’t quite gone away. It left me on edge. Wary. And yes, this was the whole reason why we’d decided to finally meet the parents properly, but still… “Don’t you think it’s a little early in the night for this, Dash?”
She glanced at me, then Bow and Windy, and then sighed and turned her head my way with a resigned look upon her face, shrugging listlessly. “Cat’s outta the bag.”
And there was no way we’d be getting it back in. Not without constructing some convoluted falsehood, and I certainly didn’t do those anymore. “Okay,” I mumbled, taking a deep breath and lifting a hoof to the collar of my hoodie, and to the small lump that lay hidden beneath it. “You sure?”
“Positive.” She nodded, then switched her attention back to Bow and Windy and offered them a brave smile. “Mom, Dad… we’re… well…”
I slipped it in and touched the fine chain around my neck, then slowly, carefully eased it out and laid it to rest upon my chest. And despite the small size of the pendant, and the fact I could barely feel it before… it seemed to grow heavier; it felt out of place, even though it was as much a part of me now as she was.
A ring.
“…What?” Bow said absentmindedly, as if waking up from a daydream, then blinked hard and shook his head, a mixture of emotions flashing across his face in the blank of an eye, finishing in a dopey smile. “You mean you’re—”
“You’re getting married?!” Windy cried, her expression brightening faster than Rainbow could ever hope to fly and wings shooting open in excitement. “Sweet heavens above, that’s wonderful!”
“Mm-hmm!” Rainbow nodded eagerly, her confidence making a sudden, triumphant return. “It’s made from the wood of an apple tree, and Twilight put a spell on it so AJ can walk on clouds all she likes. We should’ve told you sooner, but we just had to do it — putting it off for too long, I think. We knew we were good together, and if we got along so well… why not make it official?”
“Oh my stars. Oh my stars, this is happening! It’s actually happening!” Windy bounced in her seat and clapped her hooves, turning her attention to her right. “It’s actually happening, Bow! Our little Dashie is getting hitched!”
“I know!” he heartily replied, attention flicking this way and that, unsure which of us to share his enthusiasm with most. Until he settled on me. “Applejack, you… you have no idea how happy we are.”
I smiled, and something about it felt forced. “I can certainly guess.”
“Oh, what’s the use in guessing?” Windy waved a playfully dismissive hoof, then leaned over and grinned some more. “You’ll be a part of the family, and we’ll be a part of yours!”
“Well then, get ready for a lot of introductions, because while my immediate family is small, my extended family is huge.”
“Mom,” Rainbow excitedly added, “she’s not kidding. I’ve seen their reunions, and every time, there are, like, upwards of a hundred ponies or more, from all walks of life, from every corner of Equestria. When we tie the knot, you’d better be ready for a literal tsunami of in-laws.”
That seemed to get Windy’s attention alright. “M-m-more than a hundred?”
“Two hundred and fifty-six,” I reply, squinting up at the ceiling for a moment in thought. “That’s how many there are, I think. With a couple dozen on the way, of course.”
She raised her brows and bowed her head, staring at the tabletop with wide eyes as she blew a long, awed breath through pursed lips. Part of her seemed intimidated, probably imagining how she’d possibly memorise all their names, and who was related to whom in what way. But part of her also seemed keen, like it was a welcome challenge, and that side of her was quickly becoming the majority.
Clearing her throat, she looked up at us with a newfound sense of happiness in her gaze and a barely contained grin. “This is… a lot to take in.”
“We are,” I said, nodding sagely. “But you’ll get used to us, right as rain. First things first, though, you’ll have to stop by sometime and meet the rest of my family in Ponyville.”
“Oh, yes, of course, you mentioned them before, didn’t you?”
“My big brother, little sister and grandmother, yes. And if you try cookin’ with Granny Smith, I can promise you right here and now that even though she’d put on a smile, she’d secretly envy what you’re able to whip up, Windy.”
“Applejack!” She put a hoof to her chest as she laughed, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. It seemed her enthusiasm wasn’t the only thing Dash inherited. “That’s… Well, I’m flattered! Really, I am. Do you think she’d like it at all — my cooking, that is?”
“Probably. She just has a bit of a stubborn streak. But then again, so did Rainbow and I. Who knows? Maybe she’ll come around eventually.”
“That’s kind of you to say, but now I have to wonder what hers is like!”
“Savoury for the most part. Sometimes a little sweet. Kinda poetic, now that I think about it, considerin’ that description fits her to a T.”
Rainbow lifted her fork high into the air while munching on a mouthful of ravioli. “Can confirm!”
Windy tensed up and practically squealed, stiffly snapping attention to Bow. “A mother figure, honey! We get to impress a grandma!”
“I know!” he exclaimed, turning to her with just as much enthusiasm. “And that’s such a sweet name, don’t you think? Granny Smith. Oh, it’s almost like music to my ears.”
She nodded vigorously, and then a thought struck her and she switched focus back to me with a giddy sense of delight, as if she were living out a long-awaited fantasy. “Ooh, Applejack, tell me, do you think she’d ever let us call her Mom?”
And then I felt something.
An inkling.
A tickle.
Something whispering up my spine and into my ear, but I couldn’t tell what it was. So, supposing it was just a mild spike of surprise, I blinked and mentally shrugged it off, forcing my smile to stay put. “She… might. If you treat her right, that is.”
“Eeee!” She swung back to her husband. “We’re gonna have a new parent, Bow! A new mom!”
He held hooves with her and beamed. “It’s a blessing, isn’t it, dear?”
“But better! Because it isn’t just her but the brother and the sister too! More siblings for Rainbow, dear! A brother and a sister!”
“Ugh.” Rainbow bowed forward and banged her forehead against the table. “Way to make it sound weird, guys. Seriously, you two are such a hoofful.”
But it didn’t seem like they were paying attention. If they were, maybe they’d have noticed the vacant look on my face as I stared ahead, that same whisper growing into a murmur, and the unsettling chill that soon followed. My mind fumbled for some kind of response, but there was something about the whole situation that kept me from thinking straight, and my mouth simply hung open, waiting for words that would never come.
“Maybe they’ll get to call us Mom and Dad,” Windy whimsically gushed.
“Wouldn’t that be a sight,” Bow airily replied.
She hummed.
And then her ears perked up.
And then, slowly, very slowly, she returned to me.
It was like watching a roaring tornado creep upon the homestead, uprooting every in its path.
“And then…” Windy’s breath caught, clasping her hooves to her mouth once more as she snapped her focus to me. “And then you’ll have to call me Mom, and it’ll be just like having a second daughter!”
That’s when I couldn’t ignore myself anymore and the tension snapped. “Now, hold on just a cotton-pickin’ minute,” I interjected, sitting more upright in my seat as my ears pinned back while I leaned closer, “who says any of that’s happenin’? Last I checked, we ain’t blood-related.”
“Oh, no, not by blood. By law. When you marry somepony, you legally bind two families together. So, when you marry Rainbow, she’ll become your wife, your brother and sister will become hers, your grandmother will become our mother, and we’ll become your—”
“I know how it works. But you ain’t my ma and pa.”
Windy blinked with widening eyes and drew her head back, ears flattening and face falling. “I… beg your pardon?”
“You heard me.” I folded my forelegs and sat back, my frown deepening to a scowl. “You ain’t my ma and pa. And just because some ink on paper says you are don’t make it so.”
She hesitated, and her husband looked just as flummoxed. Their jaws hung open, looking as dazed as a pair of freshly shorn sheep, but the longer they were given to process everything, the more aware the became of what I was laying down for them.
“AJ?” Rainbow leaned over in her seat and peering up at me with a puzzled, concerned look. “Are you alright?”
“Am I alright?” I repeated, squinting, then swung my head about to look at her properly. “Am I alright? Of course I ain’t! Do I sound like a mare who’s alright to you?!”
“Applejack, please,” Bow cut in, confused, though the angle of his ears hinted at a touch of irritation. “There’s no need to—”
“Actually, Mister Hothoof, sir, I don’t think you’re in a position to decide what’s needed at all. I didn’t get engaged to your daughter and come all this way to your pleasant little dinner just so you two could start claimin’ me or my family as your own. I don’t want that, Apple Bloom wouldn’t either, and neither would Big Mac or Granny Smith. You ain’t my parents and you never will be, and if you can’t get that through them featherbrained heads of yours, then you can consider yourselves uninvited to the weddin’, and good riddance!”
“AJ!”
I shot a glare to my right, then blinked and reeled myself in a bit when I realised that it was Rainbow, and that she’d taken on a far more riled look than before, brows furrowed more than an old oak has wrinkles, muzzle curled into a sneer.
“You don’t get to make that call.”
I shut my mouth, but refused to let blow of her taking their side show too much.
She stayed on me for what felt like ages, making sure the point stuck, then gradually shook her head. “What the heck is up with you?”
The words caught at the back of my throat and I flinched. I mean, couldn’t she see? Wasn’t it clear as crystal? It was right there, staring all of them directly in the face. All they had to do was stop paying attention to me and actually look at it.
But no. No, none of them were having it. And that only made my blood boil.
But I couldn’t hang around there and trust they’d see the bigger picture. If they were to come to that revelation, I wouldn’t be the one to spell it out for them — they knew better than that, easily, especially Rainbow. She can be pretty dense from from time to time, but she sure as heck ain’t stupid.
And I wasn’t going to sit there and listen to them criticise me when I was the wronged party.
“I’m gettin’ some air,” I said, taking my at with me as I scooted back and stood up from the chair, then turned and marched from the dining room to the lounge, and further still to the outdoor balcony.
Who did those ponies think they were? Just who, exactly? Because they didn’t seem like warm, bubbly and inviting sort I’d met when I first came in.
“How dare they,” I muttered to myself, over and over and over as I paced back and forth along what I could only suspect was a patio; when the whole building was made of clouds — barring the furniture and all them kinds of niceties — it was rather tricky to tell. “How dare they.”
It wasn’t right. It wasn’t right and they knew it. They had to. Why else would they have tried imposing themselves like that? They shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t right.
My pacing came to a halt and I fell onto my rear, and as I scanned the night sky for stars, I was disappointed: the heavens were overcast, a fog hanging in the air even this high up from the ground, moonlight filtering through it like some phantom apparition.
Realising that I wouldn’t get to see them that evening left a hole in my stomach, deep and sickening, and I suddenly felt all the anger I had drain out of me, overshadowed by a terrible sense of distress. Not the sort that made me want to cry out for help, but the sort that makes you feel like you’re teetering on a knife’s edge. The sort that makes you want to hold somepony.
Or two.
Or something that reminds you of them.
I took off my hat and and pressed it to my snout and closed my eyes as I inhaled. If I imagined hard enough, I could still pretend his scent was there, and hadn’t been drowned out by constant use and a wash every couple of weeks. I could still pretend I was a young filly, and we were a happy family. I could still pretend the last time I saw him wasn’t the last time.
I could still pretend that everything was just fine, and it would always be alright.
But that’s all they were: fantasies. Dreams I’ve had for years and years, but even dreams can only get you so far; they can’t change the past, or even the future. It’s a truth I’d learned to live with and a truth I’d learned to accept.
Or at least I thought I had.
“AJ?”
“Yeah?” I croaked, quickly returning my hat to my head and gulping down the lump in my throat.
Rainbow approached through the archway, steady yet careful, and the fire I saw in her eyes from earlier had vanished. Her neck was level and head angled forward just enough that some of her forelock partly hid her troubled gaze. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah.” I coughed and turned away to rub at my eye before she saw a tear forming. “Better.”
“…Do you wanna talk about what happened back there?”
“What’s there to talk about?”
There was a falter in her step — I could hear the gap in her shuffled stride. “Well, there’s the fact that you insulted my parents to their faces for no obvious reason when all Mom said is that our families would become each other’s in-laws, so… you know. But aside from that, no, I guess there isn’t a lot to talk about.”
A passive-aggressive tone; there was some fire left over after all. But I couldn’t really blame her — seeing how I’d gotten myself riled up while trying to protect my family, it was only fair that she did the same. It was in her nature as well as mine. Like she said, we were too similar to ignore.
“Do you have a problem with them?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because…!” I began, then immediately drifted off into a frustrated huff, stomping the spongy floor beneath me. And after half a minute of gritted teeth and tightly closed eyes, I turned to her with a tense muzzle and upturned brows. “Look, it ain’t worth sourin’ the night over any more than it already has been. Just go back inside and enjoy your dinner and—”
“It’s about your parents, isn’t it?”
I shut my mouth. I wanted her to figure it out eventually, but now that it’d been said aloud… part of my wished she never had. And unfortunately, my silence was all the confirmation she needed.
“Do you think that they’re trying to replace them?”
I didn’t answer directly, turning away instead, but in reality, what other explanation could there have been? They wanted to be mommy and daddy to more than just Rainbow, and I was the first on their little shopping list; an item — a thing to collect and hang as a trophy, and they already had plenty of those tucked away in a special room that even she was hesitant to mention.
“I don’t think that’s how they meant it.”
“Oh, and how did they mean it, Dash?” I sneered, taking a step toward her. “Because all that talk of me bein’ a ‘second daughter’ seemed pretty concrete if you ask me.”
“They’ve always been like that,” she said with a roll of her eyes, then sat down and sighed, hanging her head. “I told you before, didn’t I? They’re just… excitable. And when it has anything to do with me, they get completely out of control. So, maybe they rubbed you the wrong way, but they didn’t mean to. It’s just not who they are.”
“It don’t matter if they meant it or not, Rainbow, it’s about what they said and how they said it. The least they could do is sound a little less eager about the whole thing — throw a touch of humility in there for all our sakes.”
“That’s not how they work.” She looked up at me almost pleadingly. “They’re happy for me, Jackie. They’re happy for you too. They just… sometimes get a bit too caught up in the moment to realise what they’re saying, or how they’re saying it. Trust me, I didn’t tell them about getting into the Wonderbolts for ages because I knew they’d blow it way out of proportion.”
“Seems like they haven’t changed much, then.”
“Oh, they have. It used to be so much worse. What you saw back there? Imagine that, but twenty-four-seven, and if we’d made this same announcement to their past selves, a pair of earplugs would’ve been your new best friend for the next week.”
I winced. “So, what, I’m just supposed to forgive them because they’re better now than whatever they were before?”
“AJ, c’mon.” She groaned. “It’s not like you to hold a grudge this quickly.”
“I ain’t holdin’ a grudge. I’m statin’ what’s gotten on my nerves.”
“And I’m hearing you. But it won’t do you any good sulking out here about it.”
“I ain't sulkin', I’m…”
“What?”
I struggled for the words, and then for the courage to speak them, and after gulping again and meeting her eyes once more, I cast my attention high up to the sky, and the moonlight still glowing through the clouds and fog. And for the second time that night, I was left feeling distressed.
“I’m searchin',” I hoarsely finished, scanning the void some more for any sign of a gap — a glimpse of what lay beyond — but ultimately coming up short. “For them.”
Rainbow tracked my gaze, and a long, uneasy pause followed. “Your mom and dad?”
I paused, worried that I’d be admitting something I shouldn’t, but eventually nodded. “I keep tellin’ myself that they’re up there, somewhere. And if I look up at just the right time… and if I wish with all my heart… maybe I’ll see a sign.”
“Like what?”
“A twinkle. A shootin' star. Some new constellation I haven’t seen before. I don’t know. Something. Something to tell me that they haven’t gone. Not… not really.”
She was silent for a long moment, considering what I’d said and what her response would be. “You know they haven’t really gone.”
“I know.” I closed my eyes again and breathed in… then out… and the cool, fairly odourless air helped to calm my down a bit. “So long as I remember them, so long as I love them, they can’t have gone. But it’d be nice if I had something to see, not just trust myself to feel.”
Another silence.
I sighed. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen anything…”
“Well then, maybe tonight’s your lucky night.”
“How?” I murmured, peering at her through half-lidded eyes. “It’s all clogged up.”
“Not for me,” she declared, flashing what would’ve been a cocky, self-assured smirk on any other day as she spread her wings and displayed them proudly. But that evening, there wasn’t any cheek; it was a genuine smile, kindly and sincere. “Pegasus, remember? Fastest in the world. I once cleared the skies over Ponyville in ten seconds flat. Busting open a window for you would be a piece of cake.”
I hesitated, inspecting her up and down, though I didn’t know exactly what for. “Are you sure?”
Her smile widened as she rolled her eyes and crossed the distance between us, putting a hoof on my shoulder and putting her muzzle close to mine. “AJ, you’re my friend. You won’t owe me anything for doing this, because we’re way past that point: we’re engaged. And by the end of the year…”
Despite myself, there was a warmth in her voice and an affectionate shine to her eyes that almost made me melt like butter on a hot stove. That’s the Rainbow I adore, and not one many ponies have seen firsthoof.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she hummed, then gave me a tender nuzzle followed by a quick peck on the cheek, and before I could even think to kiss her back, she shot into the air and raced for the cloud cover. “Love you, Jackie!”
I could only watch in awe as she streaked a rainbow in her wake — so fast that she was a blur — and cleaved a path through the fog. Swirling, spiralling, collecting and condensing it all into a cloud like only pegasi can, then bucking it off to the side so she could start again. Not even half a minute in and she’d already cleared a space large enough to fit the big red barn back home.
When she sets her mind to things, she gets them done.
She’s said the same about me, but whatever I can do just can’t compare; when I see her up there in her element, ducking and diving and twisting and turning, speedier than a starling, more controlled than a hummingbird, and more dashing than just about any other pony in the whole entire world… Merciful Sisters, she makes my heart soar as high as she does.
I don’t envy her for having wings, but I definitely feel like I’m missing out at points.
I was so taken by the spectacle, in fact, that I didn’t hear somepony else enter the picture until she spoke. “Marvellous, isn’t she?”
I wheeled around and found Windy standing on the patio, watching Rainbow work her magic with a subdued, sober smile, brows upturned and ears lowered a little way. The vibrant energy that radiated from her had gone, replaced by a far more reflective and pensive air.
“I was so happy to see her learn how to fly. We took her out for ice-cream afterwards — banana for her, mango sorbet for me, cookies and cream for Bow — but even while we were eating, she wouldn’t sit down. She just kept on hovering there. Never got tired, never stopped smiling. She was just so excited, and she wanted to show it off to the world.”
In the face of the outburst I’d given her and her husband, I found myself snorting and smirking. “Doesn’t sound like she’s changed much since then.”
“In a way, she hasn’t. In others, she has.” She sighed and closed her eyes as her head sagged, ears pinned back and tail tucked in. “But no matter what, she’ll always be our little girl. Our only little girl. And we love her so much for it.”
Not much that I could say in response. So, I chose to keep quiet.
“I heard what you said, you know. About us trying to replace your parents.”
That plucked at a nerve, and I held my breath for a brief moment. “How much?”
“More than you’d have liked, I bet.” She peered up at me, then glanced behind us both for the house. “Cumuli aren’t the most soundproof homes on the market.”
“Ah.” I turned away, then cleared my throat and awkwardly shuffled my weight. “Well, I—”
“I’m sorry.”
I snapped to her once more, cocking an eyebrow in surprise.
“That’s not how we wanted to come across. It’s just…”
I waited a short while, but when it seemed like she’d gone and got herself stuck in her own thoughts, I decided some careful prompting was in order. “Just…?”
Her jaw clenched behind a tense, twisted mouth as she stared off into the horizon, then sighed yet again as she plopped herself onto her rump and returned to me, anxious. “The reason why I was so enthusiastic — so… so eager — to call you my ‘second daughter’ is because… Rainbow wasn’t our first attempt.”
My brows climbed higher than I ever thought possible. “Pardon?”
“This stays between you, me and Bow, understand?” She sidled closer and looked at me imploringly. “We don’t discuss it with Rainbow because it’s nothing she needs to worry about, and we don’t want to make her feel like she can’t blame us for doting on her just because we had a few setbacks early on. But the long and short of it is this: she’s the product of years and years of birth plans and medication and doctor appointments and every traditional remedy under the sun. And always, they’d fail, and we’d be back at square one.”
I could barely think, let alone speak. This wasn’t something I’d expected to hear at all.
“We got lucky a few times. Five, I think. The first was when we were still dating. I had to tell Bow over dinner, of course, and when I did… he was scared and thrilled and nervous and everything else rolled into one. And we decided then and there that this would be a welcome change and challenge for us. And while we were dozing off together in bed… he asked if I’d like to make it official and seal the deal. Tie the knot. Get hitched. And I figured, since we were going to be a mom and a dad, it wouldn’t hurt to be husband and wife either.”
My stomach started flipping itself over like a stack of pancakes. I truly didn’t know how to reply, but it didn’t sound like she was trying to make me feel bad for her — guilt me into offering her an apology — because it was far too raw for that.
“But it was a miscarriage.” Her voice caught on the last note and she gulped, observing the floor beneath her for a long while before looking ahead with tears welling up in her eyes. “So were the others. Rainbow was lucky number six. If I didn’t carry her to term, that would’ve been it — I… I wouldn’t have been able to bear the pain anymore. Not for another attempt. And when she…”
I shimmied just a little closer. “Windy…”
“And when she was born, I thought she’d turn out to be a stillbirth for the longest time: she wasn’t crying. That’s how I knew something was wrong when the doctors took her away. I didn’t get to see her for hours, And all the while, I could only lie there. Just… just lie there. And my heart was breaking because it seemed… it seemed like I was doomed to be this… this… this damaged thing. And it was cruel. Because I found the stallion I wanted to spend my life with… but I couldn’t raise a family with him.”
“But you did,” I whispered, then watched as I gently slid my forehoof across to hers and squeezed it for reassurance. “You are.”
“I am,” she echoed lamely, nodding. And then a faint, shaky smile crept its way onto her muzzle, and she huffed a laugh for it. “And now she’s making a family of her own. It’s a long way from where she started off, so tiny and fragile… and perfect.”
“You raised her well.”
“I did, didn’t I?” She laughed again, but more heartily, and she wiped at her eyes and snout with the back of her hoof before sharing her smile with me. “I would’ve loved to have had more, but… if I lost another… I was afraid that not even Bow could put me back together again. She’d be my one and only daughter. And then you came along.”
I bit the inside of my cheek and allowed myself to look away just a tiny bit, the tug on my chest coming in at full-force. It left me feeling a little short of breath.
“I’m sorry that I was so quick to pounce on the idea. Of you. As a part of our clan. It doesn’t excuse how selfish I was… but I hope you now understand why, at least. If I’d known… or rather, if I’d remembered that your parents are… no longer with us… then maybe I’d have been a tad more sensitive.”
I sighed and bobbed my head, then took off my hat and held it close to my chest. “That’s alright, I guess. It’s in the past — can’t change that. So’s the fact that Ma and Pa ain’t here no more… but I suppose I’m not as over it as I thought I was, or else I wouldn’t have kicked up such a fuss.”
“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”
I paused, wondering if I was really all that comfortable talking about it. But if I wanted to prove to myself that I wasn’t stuck in yesteryear, pushing on almost two decades at that point, it was probably for the best if I stopped treating it as taboo; something that shouldn’t be discussed, even when asked.
It was a thing that happened. As much a part of me as my hooves, my coat, my mane and tail, or being friends with Twilight, or being engaged to Rainbow. I shouldn’t feel ashamed to admit any of it.
“Jumped by timberwolves,” I said, perhaps just a mite too quickly for my own tastes, so I cleared my throat as I looked toward the horizon like she had. “They were makin’ a delivery run to some grocers out west, past the Unicorn Range. Don’t know what convinced them to leave so soon after my little sister was born, but it shouldn’t have taken more than a week before they got back. And when they didn’t, Granny led the search effort.”
“She left you behind?”
“With a family friend and business partner. She wasn’t goin’ to let us get in the way of lookin’ for her son, or the mother of her grandchildren. But when she came up to the pass they were meant to be headin’ through, all she found was the mangled remains of the cart, produce scattered everywhere… and this hat.” I weakly flapped it about for emphasis. “Belonged to Pa. I was scared of even touchin’ it for the longest while afterwards — thought I’d be tarnishin’ their memory or something. Maybe I thought there’d be no way I could live up to the impression they made on me. Who can say?”
“I can’t even imagine…”
“And for your sake, I hope you’ll never have to.” I found my voice quavering slightly at the end that, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep it down. “It was just so… sudden. There weren’t even any bodies to recover. And the story books always make such a big deal out of it, like it means they could still be alive. But they can’t be. Part of me wants to believe they are, but they can’t be. They had no reason to leave, and no reason to stay away this long. We were good kids. Not the best, but… not bad. And… we needed them. I…”
“Applejack…” She unfurled her wing on instinct to drape it over my back, but clearly thought better and settled instead for shuffling closer and laying her hoof over mine. To be honest, I’m not sure I’d have minded. “Honey, please, don’t beat yourself up.”
“I’m not,” I croakily mumbled, then cleared my throat again and put Pa’s hat back on my head. “It’s just that… it wasn’t easy. Fendin’ for ourselves. Without them. Big Mac and I had to grow up fast, and… and it’s weird to think how we were more of a mother and father to Apple Bloom than they ever were. She even called me Ma once. It’s like I’ve been one longer than I had one… and I know it’s selfish of me to say so, but that ain’t right.”
“It isn’t, sweetie. It really isn’t. And you’re not selfish for thinking it.”
“Then why do I feel like it is? And why does it scare me, thinking that… that you and your husband might…”
She picked my hoof up and lay the other over it, looking me in the eyes and with upturned brows and ears angled back, offering a restrained, apprehensive smile. “You think it’s selfish because you’ve lived without it for so long. It’s become the norm. But if wanting parents makes us selfish, then there has to be something wrong with the world; everypony needs to be taken care of every once in a while. It’s just who we are, as living beings. No shame in that.”
The words felt like something I already knew, yet needed to hear again. Which was ironic, or poetic, or whatever it was, considering I hadn’t talked with many ponies about it, just Big Mac and Granny, and even then in shallow terms. Rainbow too — it never got in the way of our relationship, so I let the topic be. It’s not that I didn’t trust her to handle it… I just knew that sometimes it’s better to leave well enough alone.
Regardless, hearing this from her, a weight was being lifted from my withers, and I felt that I could breathe a little easier because of it.
“As for Bow and myself…” Windy continued, drifting off and lowering her gaze in thought, “I’d like to apologise for how we acted. We were overzealous. We know we can’t replace them, and we’d never try. But Rainbow trusts you — loves you — and we love and trust her. And we’ll love and trust you the same just for that, because we can see how happy you are together. How you complete each other.”
“You… y-y-you think?”
“Of course.” She stared at me for a short while longer, then unfurled her wing again and cocked a hesitant eyebrow inquiringly.
I glanced at it, then lingered when it suddenly seemed like such a welcome, inviting sight. And I felt myself drawn to it, as if I’d been searching and yearning for it for decades, and I could scarcely believe my own luck in finding it here, on the back patio of a cloud home, so high above the rest of the world.
She seemed to take notice and, gently, wrapped it around me and shimmied closer, softly tugging me with it until her shoulder pressed against mine. “We aren’t replacements, Applejack. We never wanted that. But just as Rainbow is an addition to your family… you and yours are an addition to ours. Don’t think of us as your new parents — think of us as your other parents. And maybe, in time… if you’re comfortable with it…”
I turned to her, teeth chattering behind closed lips as a strangely uplifting chill trickled down my spine like melting ice.
Windy retracted her wing and pulled back a little way, shifting in place to face me, then slowly bowed her head as she put a forehoof to her chest, and the other on my shoulder. And when she looked me in the eyes once again, there were tears in hers. “You can call me… Mom. If you want.”
I blinked, and suddenly, my vision seemed a whole lot clearer. I was welling up too, and I found myself sniffling and rubbing away at the waterworks misting up my vision. “I think I’d like that.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Maybe. In time.”
She blinked in turn, and some of the wetness in her eyes dribbled away as she grinned. “That’s good to hear. That’s very good to hear.”
A silence settled.
Without any wind, the only noise to break it was the sound of our stuttered breath, and the distant rush of air as Rainbow screamed through the ever-clearing sky. Stars glistened like moonlight shimmering on the dark surface of a midnight sea, and the moon itself seemed larger than it had ever been before. It was beautiful, plain and simple.
When she finally felt satisfied with her work, Rainbow blazed a path toward us, busting every cloud she’d formed along the way, then slowed up and landed on the patio opposite Windy. “Look at you two,” she said with a smile, combing her feathers through her mane. “I turn my back for five minutes and you’re already hugging it out.”
I snorted and shook my head. “She made it hard to say no.”
“Yep. Mom tends to do that.” She sat down at my side and swathed her wing over my back — like mother, like daughter — and gestured to the vast expanse before us. “So, what do you think?”
She always was, and still is, but on that midsummer’s afternoon, the sky blue and cloudless, flower petals drifting through the air around us like downy dove feathers caught in a breeze, in the shade of the family orchard… she was something else. Something flawless. Something beyond what mere words could describe. Perfect in every way.
It was at the grove of the intertwined apple and pear trees. I knew it had to be there the second either of us hinted at the vague interest of spending our lives together — it was where Ma and Pa made their vows, after all. And I’d been waiting for so long to see her there that I was on the brink of crying when the mayor started officiating. And what could I do but cry when Rainbow said her vows, and I said mine? What could anypony do?
Oaths were made, and so was the offer of a kiss, and when I took her up on it, there were cheers. But I could barely hear them. I checked with Rainbow afterwards and she said she could barely hear them either. It was like the whole world had melted away for those few precious moments and we were walking on clouds again, lying on a little, fluffy bed of white as the sun drifted by and noon turned to dusk.
The serenity passed, though, and when we broke from each other’s spell, what welcomed us was just as lovely; a large gathering of friends and family, all of them smiling and clapping, whistling in a few cases. Twilight was there, taking a break for her royal duties for the day to wish us well, and so was Pinkie, her husband, their kid, and Fluttershy and Discord, the latter of whom was in sniffles, and to whom Rarity generously loaned her handkerchief. He would’ve given it back if it hadn’t flown away afterwards.
There was also a large swathe of the extended Apple clan present, coming from every corner of Equestria, and even some from beyond. I was especially surprised to see a griffon or two bear the family name, but time had passed since I’d found myself thrust into this hero business, and love often finds us in interesting places. Just take a look at Rainbow and I.
As for me? I was just happy for the massive turnout.
Granny was there, naturally, along with Big Mac and Apple Bloom in the front row, but between them, separating the matriarch from the little ones, sat two far newer faces: Windy and Bow. Granny had her hoof over Windy’s, and Apple Bloom hugged Bow’s close to her heart. And all of them were beaming with such pride that you could’ve sworn they glowed.
And I was happy for it.
I was elated for it.
I was ready for it.
Family is who you choose, not just who you’re related to. I’d made my choice, and that didn’t mean I loved my old one any less, even the dearly departed, who I still regret not saying a proper farewell to.
But time marches on, and we can only march with it — that’s something tragedy has taught me. And as I marched down the aisle, Rainbow nuzzling against me and I against her, forelegs linked, it was as if I were gliding, soaring on wings that weren’t mine.
Everything would be alright, I reckoned.
The past was over, and I was keen to see what would happen next.
And for all the years that followed, I’ve never been disappointed.
