“So,” Doug remarks to Applejack as he watches Rainbow Dash fly off. At least she took the cooler with her this time. But is she seriously going to be coming to me every two hours?

“So,” Applejack echoes. She gets up, leading the way across the road that leads to Ponyville. It’s a short walk from the larger sorting and storage barns to a dense thicket of overgrown trees to the southeast of the farmhouse. Wheat fields can be seen to the south, the stalks coming up to the bottom of her barrel, while the surrounding areas consist of more regularly spaced and traveled orchards.

“Not many ponies know about this spot,” Applejack says, pushing aside the thick foliage leading to a clearing in the thicket, “but Ma and Pa wanted to be buried here.”

Two trees dominate the middle of the otherwise secluded glade, thick trunks twisting around each other like two entangled lovers. Scattered blossoms adorn the surrounding trees while the two in the center are both heavily laden with fruit: bright red apples on the right, and butter yellow pears on the left, and they fill the area with a sweet scent. The grass, slightly withered, has two bare spots just in front of the entwined trees.

In between the trees sits a large, triangular rock. Carved on the surface is a rough heart surrounding a jar of some sort next to an apple with a shining star. “Ma and Pa’s cutie marks,” Applejack explains as she walks closer. There are two inscriptions carved into the rock at the bottom. One for Buttercup, born March 1st, 960; the other for Bright MacIntosh, born March 3rd, same year. Deceased on the same day, almost three weeks ago: February 3rd, 993.

A line on the bottom reads, ‘The perfect pair to ever walk a prickly path’.

Applejack closes her eyes reverently, taking a deep breath. She kneels next to the two rough rectangles devoid of grass, focusing on the two trees in front of her and the orchard surrounding them. They’re a little sick, but the decay hasn’t spread as far as before. A long, somber flare revitalizes them, the few leaves that were fading returning to a vibrant green. The grass takes a little longer, especially close to the bare patches.

Doug kneeling down doesn’t draw a reaction, but a hand resting on her mane nearly startles her. “You doing okay?” he asks, rubbing into her neck.

“Yeah,” Applejack says unconvincingly, the slight squeeze and tug closer to Doug letting her know he wants her to continue. Or not, if she doesn’t want to. “Just… just a lot of memories. Not so much here, Ma and Pa didn’t want us playin’ in these parts. But of them.”

“I get it,” Doug says quietly, the two sinking into the soft grass. “I lost my grandparents on one side, but never anyone exceptionally close to me. I imagine it’s still fresh, still painful.”

“It is.” Applejack’s voice comes out as a whisper.

The two sit still for several long minutes, Applejack’s steady breathing occasionally ruffling the thin strip of grass they are sitting on. She grits her teeth. Of course he wouldn’t mention ‘losing’ the rest of his family. Of course he still plans on leavin’ me, and nothing Ah say or do will change his mind. The unfairness of it all builds in her like a cold rage, like she’s the bottle of cider left out in the cold, and all the good is freezing out of her and leaving the bitter applejack behind.

“How did it happen?” Doug asks somberly. His hand starts moving again, long strokes that might have calmed her down, but just stoke the fire of her heat.

She arches her back, pushing into Doug’s hand, begging him to dig in deeper. Her muzzle contorts to a scowl, one hoof scraping at the grass. “Chaos magic,” she eventually spits out.

“Chaos magic?” Doug asks, confused. “What’s that?”

His long strokes drive that rage from her, but it seems like there’s nothing to replace it, leaving her empty. “No good,” Applejack continues darkly, shaking her head. “Mark my words, the only good thing that’s ever come out of the Everfree is Zap Apples. In fact, that’s why Pa was in the Everfree in the first place. Said somethin’ or other about tryin’ to find a new way to grow more of ‘em. But when he stumbled out of the Everfree, well, we knew somethin’ bad happened, even if he didn’t have a scratch on him.”

Doug nods, his hand gently massaging Applejack’s withers.

It helps a little, but it isn’t enough to keep her from trembling as she continues, “Ma rushed to him, of course, and wouldn’t leave his side. Even though it burned her to stay. Tried to take care of him, but he just got worse and worse. Didn’t take long before she started showin’ the same symptoms. Couldn’t keep any food down, bloody… bloody vomit and stool.” Applejack takes a deep breath, willing herself to keep talking. “Weak. Could barely move, or get out of bed. Doc made a house call, but by then it was too late.” Applejack’s head pushes into Doug’s bare chest, ears twitching against him.

“Sounds like radiation poisoning,” Doug remarks solemnly, grimacing. “A horrible way to die.”

Applejack nods, the evoked images of her sire wasting away a lancing spike through her heart. “Doc says he died from internal bleeding, in the end. Don’t think it was somethin’ he ate, he knew better’n that. But he stumbled across somethin’, or it must’a gotten him, and it must’a been somethin’ bad. But he never said nothin’ except how much he loved us, and spent his last hours with Ma, holdin’ her close.”

Without warning Applejack slams a hoof into the ground, leaving a deep divot in the dirt. “Doc told Ma what it was, what was happenin’ to him! But she refused to leave! Said they were gonna pull through together, one way or the other.” The hoof kneads the grass, ripping a pair of blades out. She stares at them for a few long seconds, her head bowed.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Doug says quietly, her head resting on his leg, just holding her close.

“Ah want to blame her for leavin’ me’n Mac. Ah really do, but Bright Mac was everythin’ to her.” Applejack sighs, then turns her head to stare up at Doug, her green eyes shimmering with uncried tears. “Would you do that? Would you give up everythin’, even your life, to be with the one you love?”

Responses flood Doug’s mind, many discarded as soon as he thinks them. It would be easy to say yes, to reassure the quivering mare in my arms, but that would be a lie. To say no would devastate her. A hedged response would be little better.

He delays in his answer, just holding onto her. And maybe that answers her question just the same.

Applejack nods once. “Ah get it,” she says quietly, no longer shaking. “They had a special connection; a magical, star-kissed, other-side-of-a-rainbow kind of love. At least, that’s what they called it.” She sighs. “Ah should’a known better than to hope we had the same thing.”

Doug stays silent for several long seconds, just staring at the tree. “I think my answer would be,” he eventually says, his voice soft, “that I want to have that kind of connection. I want to be willing to lay down my life for those I love, to be willing to accept any burden for their sake.” He hangs his hand, turning his face away as he hugs Applejack close. “I don’t know if I’m there yet.”

“Ah know,” Applejack returns just as softly. She shifts slightly in his arms. “Ah’m sorry about what you’re going through. And Ah’m sorry we rushed into things.”

“Don’t be,” Doug says, turning back to look Applejack in the eyes. He smiles.

She smiles back.

Doug leans down, kissing Applejack on the muzzle. When she isn’t satisfied with a quick peck she wraps her hooves around his neck, pulling herself up for a second, longer kiss. She moans as an arm wraps around her barrel, holding the position for a long time.

Eventually they break apart, Applejack grinning mischievously while Doug pushes a bit of her mane out of her eyes. He smirks, looking back at the twinned trees. Applejack follows his gaze. “So,” Doug asks, “why is one of them a pear?”

“Hmm,” Applejack says, frowning. “Don’t rightly know. ‘Cept this used to be on the border between the Pear’s farm, but they moved away years ago. Before Mac was born, at least. We bought the land - the sortin’ barns are their old house - and over the years Granny and Pa converted nearly all the trees to apples. Pears are supposed to be sweet, but the old patches put out some o’ the sourest Granny Smiths Ah’ve ever eaten.” Applejack’s mouth puckers up just thinking about it. “But, both Ma and Pa insisted that this spot be left alone. Granny weren’t happy ‘bout it, no ma’am, but she relented. One of the few times she ever has, truth be told.”

“Converting trees?” Doug asks skeptically. “Is that like grafting limbs, or some earth pony magic thing that’ll take too long to explain?”

Applejack chuckles. “Nah, nothin’ that fancy. Jus’ cuttin’ ‘em down, an’ plantin’ new ones. Don’t think rippin’ the stumps out was ever too bad, either. Pears ain’t as hardy as apples.”

“Couldn’t tell you one way or the other,” Doug remarks, giving Applejack’s flank a testing squeeze.

She grins up at him, though when he lightly pushes her away her smile turns into a confused frown. She stretches her legs, stepping away and letting Doug up. Her frown deepens as he stands and reaches up, picking an apple and a pear.

“Shouldn’t be doin’ that,” Applejack cautions. “Ain’t right.”

“Why?” Doug says, admiring the pear from every angle. It seems perfect, the apple as well, though it isn’t easy beating any of the Apple products.

“Seems disrespectful, don’t ya think?” Applejack motions to the grove around them. “They wanted to remember this spot, keep it just like this.”

“While I can’t say for sure, I didn’t know your parents, I would have said the opposite. You don’t plant fruit trees for their beauty, though they are.” Doug winks at Applejack, getting a roll of her eyes in return. “You can tell me if I’m wrong, but I think they would have wanted you to enjoy the fruits of their labor. To see this as celebrating their life, not desecrating their memory.” Doug sits down cross legged, balancing the apple on his knee and taking the pear in hand. He holds it up to his mouth, watching Applejack closely. When she doesn’t object he takes a small bite, a wide grin at the sweet taste. He holds it out, expectantly watching her.

“Ya really think that?” Applejack asks, cocking her head to the side. Then she smiles. “That does sound like Pa, Ah suppose. He always looked on the bright side of things.”

Doug merely takes another bite of his pear, succulent flesh oozing out from the corners of his mouth and down his hand. He shakes it up and down, tantalizingly close to Applejack.

Applejack eyes the pear warily. “Granny’ll throw a fit if she finds out that you or Ah’ve eaten a pear.” That mischievous grin returns as she steps inside his legs and takes a bite of the pear, relishing the taste of the forbidden fruit. “Don’t worry, though,” she whispers into his ear, her tongue wetting her lips before giving him a quick lick. “Ah’ve got an idea.”

“Oh?” Doug says, matching her grin.

“Mmhmm,” Applejack draws out, watching juice from the pear trickle down Doug’s fingers. Her tongue stretches out of her muzzle as her eyes meet his, drawing an agonizingly slow line from his wrist to the base of his thumb, lapping the juice as she goes. She moans in pleasure, a low rumbling at the base of her throat, her eyes staying locked on his as she delicately grips his thumb with her teeth. She peels him away from the pear just enough to slip him inside her mouth, her tongue dancing all the way up to his fingernail.

Next Chapter: Ch. 41 - Flesh and Spirit* Estimated time remaining: 10 Hours, 41 Minutes