If Applejack was surprised to see me at the table, she didn’t show it. That, of course, led me to believe she wasn’t surprised at all - After all, she wasn’t one to hide her true feelings from anyone. However, ponies around the table did watch me with awe as I began to sit.

I didn’t get a scale to the chair before I was shooed away by Applebloom. She grinned and dragged me right next to Applejack. I smiled and glanced at Applejack. She smiled at me, and for an instant, I didn’t see her age. I saw my friend, my close, good friend smiling at me, welcoming me to the family with open arms. I didn’t have to be related. I didn’t need to be married into the family. I already was family, to her. I was surprised. It had been so long since I had been part of a family.

I turned then to the feast before us. I couldn’t believe any group of ponies, no matter how large, could eat this much. Fritters, dumplings, candied apples - All that and more rested before us all, sending the scent of apples into the already fruity air. However, nopony took a bite. Everypony sat, talking and laughing and carrying on, yet not a single hoof strayed towards the food. I sat quietly, not speaking with anyone. I simply observed them.

They were happy. So very very happy… And I must tear that apart. I must admit to them all how long a single Apple has left, that the tree is about to drop it’s last seed. I must admit that Applejack is getting too old. That Applejack must move on. That she’s going to die.

I sighed softly. Only one pony noticed in the banter and craze. She always noticed.

Applejack gently rested her hoof on my shoulder. I glanced at her again, and this time, the age weighing her down does not hide. I took the time in our shared silence to take her in, all the years that have changed my dear friend. She did the same with me, I could tell.

It was hard to see her like this – Harder than I had imagined.

She wore her age with pride, I could see. She’d lived this long, and she planned to keep going for longer still. She had a few more years left in her. Not too many, but enough. Her hooves looked sore on her body, speckled with bruises from older days that had never healed. Her face was wrinkled with time, a sort of map of her age written right on her smile - and what a smile it is, full of laughter and pride. Her eyes shone with wisdom, but also with an edge of tiredness. I saw those eyes eons ago, back during Applebucking Season. She worked herself to exhaustion.

This time was different, I knew. She hadn’t worked herself to exhaustion – She had lived herself to exhaustion.

I wondered what she saw in me. Maybe she saw the scars behind the scales from my travels. The timelessness of my face. The restlessness of the wanderer inside of me, who always wanted to fly someplace new. I couldn’t tell. But, whatever she saw as she gazed into my eyes, she liked. She smiled at me as she would an old friend - And, that’s what I was to her, no matter what age has done to her body or mind.

Suddenly, unspoken, it was time for the speech. Her hoof left my shoulder. She began to stand. I could almost hear her bones creaking under the weight of the age she wore. I saw her shift her weight from the seat to her hooves, and my heart ached with the pain it caused her. She still smiled, however, standing as tall as she could. Her hoof, I noticed, supported her against the table. I think I am the only one who noticed.

As she stood, the table went quiet. Everypony watched her. She cleared her throat softly and began her speech. She spoke softly, yet I knew everypony could hear her. Her words were kept short, yet meaningful. She spoke of how we must all relish the times when we see our family, for we know not how long they have left. She bowed her head softly, muttering something under her breath. I think she said 'granny' to herself, a gentle hello to a pony whom I didn't see at the table; with a pang of sorrow from the realization, I didn't believe I would see her this trip.

She went on to say she hoped every pony had enjoyed themselves so far, and that she hoped that every Apple will spend their days smiling. Everypony can't help but smile as she stared critically at the food. She told us to dig in.

The table sprung to life as she sat. Sound burst into being at the clatter of plates and the mirthful laughter. I suddenly found myself feasting and laughing with them. The apple cider enticed me with that fragrance, that intoxicating smell - I drank my fill with the rest.

I glanced at Applejack. She ate sparingly; a few bites of fritters and she’d finished her meal. I watched her, concerned, but said nothing. It’s not my place to comment on her eating habits. It just startled me that Applejack, who was known to hog plenty of fritters at any good Apple get together, ate so little now. I supposed that's just the way of things, when age sneaks up on you. Your appetite fades with your youth.

As always, my ravenous appetite had not faded. I ate fully and partook in everything I could. It tasted delicious as ever, savory and sweet on the tongue. Even with my appetite, I finished my meal sooner than any other at the table; probably because of my lack of socializing. As I finished my meal, I glanced in Applejack's direction, only to find that she had slipped away. She had left the table silently, going who knows where. I stood and glanced around.

I suppose I got lucky - I just caught the sight of her as she entered the barn. Smiling, I left the table, heading that way with a slow, steady pace. My stomach was full, but my heart was heavy. It was time now, I realized. Time for the first step into the storm.

I opened the door as I reached it and entered. From a rocking chair in the corner came an all too familiar voice.

“Whai, there’s a dragon in my barn.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

*~*~*~

I sit down in front of her chair, taking in her slow rocking and soft smile. She has always smiled at me like that - at least that hasn’t changed. We exchange basic pleasantries as the day drags on. I havn’t realized how much I miss idle chit chat; I never truly had time for it in my travels. It was so simple, yet it relaxes me all the same. She does most of the speaking, however.

She talks about the weather and her crops. The last harvest had gone well. Pip had helped out, it seems, along with Apple Stem, as much as she could. A few of her grandkids - a word that surprises me still - helped as well. I don’t ask who she has married; there really was no need to, here, now.

Time continues to pass and the conversation dribbles away. I beg it to come back silently, but come it does not. Finally, she asks me why I’m here. I glance at her only to glance away again. Her eyes and face are grim with concern; she knows I have duties to the crown. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have a purpose. But I simply can’t look at her. Those eyes still shone with those images of long ago, of the mare I knew who could buck trees all day. That mare is buried deep now. She’s gone.

I hang my head, trying not to let her see my tears. She sees them anyways – She lets me cry, though. She always left everypony to their own problems. They always worked themselves out. I wipe them away, look at her seriously, take a deep breath, and begin.

I tell her what Twilight has found. I tell her the story again, of how Celestia and Luna became unconnected from the elements, and how all of our friends became the element bearers. Explain to her that all of us have gotten up in age. That time is passing fast, and Equestria needs it’s elements.

I explain that she must choose. Someone honest. Someone trustworthy. And someone she could tell a secret to and hide.

She argues, of course. Keeping secrets doesn’t go hoof in hoof with honesty. She still had a good few years yet. She could keep going. She wasn’t too old yet.

I stop her there and explain. She simply doesn’t get it. She argues, fights tooth and nail to get me to admit that she doesn’t need to do this yet. She’s not going to die any day soon. I hate seeing her like this; Pride has turned into desperation, stubbornness deteriorated into fear. My anger grows as our voices rise, until, hardly comprehending what I’m doing, I roar. I roar at her to stop, fire licking at the edges of my mouth, smoke coiling from my snout.

She watches me in the sudden silence around us. I see she’s shaking and instantly regret the outburst. Swallowing lightly, I get on all fours and crawl over to her hesitantly, apologizing. I sigh and hold her, and finally I feel tears on my chest. I wipe them away for her, and she smiles, her tears already beginning to dry. She makes some small excuse, something about running out of tears ages ago.

I coil myself around her, holding her hoof. Explain everything again. She takes it much better this time; she’s had her outburst, her last stand. She knows when it’s time to put a cow to pasture. I ask her to come to Canterlot in one weeks time with the pony she chooses to bear the next element. She agrees.

I stay with her for a while longer. I rest with her, feeling her chest rise and fall with each faltering breath. But I know my duties. Eventually I stand. I tell her she’s the first. That there’s four more to go. Her eyes fill with sympathy. I’m glad she understands. I wish her good luck and thank her for the meal. She tells me I’m welcome anytime, and that she hopes I have good luck in my search too. I’m not sure what she considers my search to be; I know where everypony lives right now. With a smile, exhausted smile, I stand on my hind legs once more, finding it more comfortable. Old habits, she says, with that soft bantering sound in her voice. I smile back at her, but we say nothing more to each other. She knows her duties, just as I know mine. I turn and open the door.

Birds chirp and the sun shines. I take a deep breath of the brisk air. My eyes widen a bit in familiarity.

It tastes like apples.

Author's Notes:

Thus ends the Hiatus!
*blows a party cannon* WOOT!