“Ee-nope,” Applejack rejects with a curt shake of her head, sending her braided mane swaying back and forth. “Wash ‘em again, partner.”

Doug sighs heavily, removes his hand from underneath the faded Stetson, and stomps over to the sink. The kitchen reeks of apples, seeping into every nook and cranny and fold of flesh, far deeper than the storm residue could ever dream - this smell has been encouraged, not stifled. “It’s not that bad,” he asserts, if weakly.

“That’s ‘cause your nose ain’t as good as mine.” Applejack pointedly raises her head in the air and takes a good, long sniff. Her nostrils crinkle. “Eeyup. Ah can still smell it.”

“Maybe I should get Rainbow Dash in here to help.” Doug opens a window as he dries his hands off, though it’s doubtful the tempting smell will entice any stray fillies back home. “She could blow this place out.”

“Or maybe ya could get a Rain-blow dry for yourself.” Applejack returns to her dinner, unhappily munching on an overloaded plate of hay and apples, the smell still bothering her. On the opposite side of the table, Trixie and Luna exchange queer looks. Neither wants to say anything, Luna especially, so they content themselves with their filling, if somewhat plain, meal.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Doug quips, winking at Applejack. She snorts through her full mouth. He holds his hands up to her, but she just shakes her head. He sighs, goes back and pours out another bit of apple juice, this time lathering with apple butter. “But if that worked, you could have just fixed it yourself.”

“Sorry, sugarcube,” Applejack rebuffs, giving her stallion an apologetic smile. “But you know Ah can’t stand those shampoos. Dunno why Ah even let Rares keep ‘em here; Ah prefer mah stallion au natural.”

Luna tries again, “We art-”

Applejack cuts her off. “No, no, no, it ain’t your fault. Ah should’a known Doug’d pull out the strong stuff. Ah figured he’d use a bit more, what’cha’ma’call’it, elbow grease.”

“After the last time with the tree sap,” Doug counters, sitting next to Applejack and finally getting an approving, if delayed, nod, “I figured I’d give it a try.”

Applejack raises an eyebrow. “Ah though Ah was the one who cleaned ‘em up last time.”

“And,” Doug continues with a knowing smirk, waving a piece of apple-buttered bread in her face, “didn’t you use the shampoo? And didn’t it work great?”

Applejack huffs, tempted to snag a bite, and if he’s lucky only of the bread. “That’s different. Ya don’t care how Ah smell; Ah could roll ‘round in the mud all day and ya’d still chase after me.”

“You could use a day off,” Doug suggests between mouthfuls, “and if that’s how you want to spend it? Maybe I'll join you.”

Applejack snorts, then snatches the bread from his hand, consoling herself with apple goodness while Doug laughs and dutifully butters another slice. “We’re too busy ‘round here for that, not that ya need me tellin’ ya.”

The four glance up as the front door opens. Twilight Sparkle lets herself in, nostrils wrinkling at the pungent, though not unwelcome, smell of warm bread and apples.

“Hey, Twi,” Applejack greets, the others giving friendly nods and smiles. “What’cha doin’ out here?” She smirks. “Castle too cold’n lonely for ya?”

Twilight’s half grin isn’t terribly convincing.

Applejack chuckles, a flick of her mane enough to invite the alicorn to the table. “Schucks, ya know you’re always welcome here, long as ya don’t mind watchin’ the young’ins with me. What can Ah do ya for?”

Twilight eyes the mound of plain hay and apples in front of Applejack with a certain envy; she’s not used to being so hungry, what with her two little ones growing more and more every day, and the pile looks especially scrumptious. “Whatever you’re having is fine, thanks.”

“Sure thing, sugarcube.” Applejack grins as Doug gets up to get the beaming alicorn a plate of her own. “Did ya happen to see ‘Bo and Tiara on your way here?”

Twilight shakes her head, happily receiving a fond nuzzle from Doug as he passes by her, though the tender rub of his hand against her flank fails to distract her from munching on her meal.

Applejack harumphs into her plate. “Ah, shoot. We may be playin’ round-up, then, though Ah bet ya bits to bagels Hedge’s nappin’ at the lake an’ Bo’s at the sortin’ barn.” She goes back to munching, then regards Twilight with a swarthy smirk. “Ya wanna see if’n we c’n catch ‘em up ta somethin’?”

A faint smile graces Twilight’s muzzle, but from the unlikeliness of actually catching the youngsters up to anything. While she would never claim to know the colt better than his dam, she hasn’t seen any trace of the… how shall she say, unslaking fondness their stallion harbors for physical affection. Not that she minds, none of them do, she just doesn’t expect to see the same trait reflected in Pomarbo, just like it hasn’t manifested in his other foals.

She wonders what her own foals will be like. She shares with him a curiosity not present in most ponies, a willingness and eagerness to go beyond the domain of her cutie mark. Or perhaps that is her mark, the purview of ‘magic’ in its totality, and the unfamiliar desire to learn more about the… combat… applications is just a part of that. Even if that word leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, it’s not worse than the helplessness she felt when her brother instantly acted and she… just... stood there.

“Ya feelin’ alright there, sugarcube?” Applejack asks, concerned. “Y’er starin’ like ya’ve just seen a ghost, rather’n asked t’ play one.”

“No, I’m fine,” Twilight answers automatically. She gets a steady stare from Applejack, the earth pony buying exactly none of her quick response. “That sounds like fun,” she agrees on a whim. Stealth is one facet of fighting, right?

But picking the brain of the bruiser of an earth pony, to say nothing of the pugilistic pegasus that might swoop by later, is not the only reason she wanted to come by.

“If there’s something that’s bothering you,” Doug counsels quietly, having never left her side, hand rubbing reassuring circles around her cutie mark, “don’t be afraid to tell us.”

Twilight wrests a smile for her stallion, glad for the encouragement. Even so, she has to struggle to ask the question on a topic ponies avoid. ”I wanted to know, well, what you would do if you’re in a fight and had to defend your foals.”

Trixie’s quick jest catches Twilight off guard. “She’d surrender and ask what she can get them for dinner.”

Luna’s wing buffet does little to wipe the smirk off the unicorn’s muzzle.

Even so, Applejack finds herself nodding along. “Eeyup,” she admits, though it hurts her pride to do so. “Ah mean, Ah gotta assess if’n that’ll work or not. Some creatures won’t listen, an’ Ah gotta loosen up Bucky McGillycuddy and Kicks McGee. If’n they’re just lookin’ for a quick meal? Sometimes a hunk’a ricotta works. If they want more? They’ll guard me through the swamp an’ back for a leg’s weight’n meat, though Ah’d rather pay in apples’n hay. They know Ah keep mah promises.”

“An Apple always keeps her promises,” Doug adds with a light smirk.

“Eeyup. It pays to have a reputation.” Applejack turns back to Twilight. “Ah mean, you have to ask what kind of ‘fight’ it is. Am Ah in a ring with a rampagin’ bull an’ Ah gotta subdue her? That’s a lot different than some pegasus flyin’ overheard takin’ potshots. An’, to me, ‘winnin’ a fight means Ah walk away, safe’n sound.” She shrugs. “Dunno how many threats’re out there that you’d need to walk away from. Or fly, teleport, ya know.”

“Yeah,” Twilight admits, a tad sheepishly. Maybe learning actual techniques from Applejack wouldn’t be the best, though she admires the reasoning behind the farmpony’s philosophy. She notes that Luna takes a particular interest in the question; maybe she’d be a better pony to ask. Though it is getting late tonight.

“I also wanted to ask, if it’s not too much.” She thoughtfully chews while Applejack shrugs nonchalantly. “What’s it like, saying goodbye?”

“To the foals?” Applejack ponders for a moment. “Ah mean, you were there’n all, at the station. It ain’t fun, that’s for sure. But it’s not like Ah lost ‘em for good!”

“Err,” Twilight stammers, ears folding flat. Applejack’s comment hits home, an apple bucked straight at the center mark. “...Yeah.”

“They’ll still come ‘round, time to time, Ah’m sure.” Applejack chuckles. “It helps that this ain’t my first rodeo. ‘Baum ran off, what, a year ago?”

Doug shrugs at the question, almost like he learned the motion from his lead mare. “Less than that. Seven, eight months?”

“Eeyup.” Applejack turns back to Twilight. “You were there for that, too. It’s hard lettin’ go, but a sprout can’t grow in the shade. Gotta let ‘em go off on their own, an’ hope ya’ve taught ‘em enough in the short time ya got together. ‘Specially ‘cause ya don’t know how long ya’ve got.”

Twilight rubs at her belly self-consciously. “Yeah,” she admits in a whisper. “I just hope I’ll be ready, too.”

Applejack laughs, deep and from her own full belly, and wraps a foreleg around Twilight’s neck. “Partner, don’t you worry ‘bout that. Ya’ve got a herd here who’ve seen off as many foals as most have in total. Maybe they’ve ain’t herded up themselves, and we’re not yet grandmares ladlin’ advice out like applesauce, but whatever help you need? We’ve got yer back.”

“Thanks,” Twilight answers with an appreciative coo. The reassurance feels good, there’s no denying that, yet it feels undeserved.

“But,” Applejack says, unbidden by the others. She doesn’t look proud, or resigned, but speaks with a detachment same as that when she leads hogs or calves to the stockyard or Pharynx’s abattoir. “Truth be told…”

Doug straightens up, laying a reassuring arm across Applejack’s back. She looks ready to shrug it off, then thinks better, accepting the encouraging touch for what it is. Twilight stares, her ears flicking forward, then down, then back up, unsure of what will come next. She has never heard Applejack speak a disparaging word about her foals, and none of them will stand for anypony else doing the same.

“If Ah’m bein’ honest…”

Applejack stares out the open window, counting the rows and rows of apple trees that make up their abundant orchards. There’s no doubt that she could point her head in any direction, walls be damned, and recount exactly how many trees and what variety lay beyond.

“Ah’m glad to see them go.” Her head hangs down, though the shame she portrays seems just that, a meager facade she feels she ought to have, rather than the genuine article. “‘Cause Ah know they don’t belong here.”

Light gasps ring at the admission.

“Ah ain’t sayin’ Ah don’t love ‘em,” Applejack argues, though nopony has raised any verbal objections. “And they’d be welcome any time or season. But their place ain’t here. Ah don’t see the same joy from growin’ an’ harvestin’ that Ah see in myself, or in Big Mac, or that Ah saw in Ma ‘n Pa.”

Doug’s arm tightens around her. She appreciates the closeness, the comfort, even as a wetness shimmers in her eyes that will never be realized.

“And Ah ain’t blamin’ them,” Applejack continues, and turns to Doug as he stiffens. “And Ah ain’t blamin’ you, neither.” She winks at him with a lascivious, inviting smirk. “Celestia knows Ah’ll keep trying ‘till Ah get one that’ll carry on the Apple tradition.”

“Thanks, love,” Doug says, his coldness melting as he embraces his lead mare, his hand running the soft swell of her belly, barely noticeable against thick cords of muscle. In a month or so it would become quite apparent, much like it already is on their thinner counterparts Rainbow Dash and Cadance. “I’ll try to keep up to seed.”

Applejack groans, returning the hug. She smiles at Luna as she realizes the name she invoked just now. “Heh. You’re not gonna tell your Sister how we use her name, are ya?”

“We have a feeling that will be unnecessary,” Luna responds with a faint smile. “Celestia knows she intends the same for herself.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Doug quips through a clenched throat. He playfully punches Applejack. “Miss Empty Nest here can’t stand the thought of being all alone.”

“Yeah, well,” Applejack huffs, blowing a lock of mane away from her forehead. It flops right back in place. A moment of silence passes before she admits, “On a completely unrelated note, Ah told mah cousin Johnny he could send his filly down here.”

“Completely unrelated?” Doug asks with a skeptical smirk.

Applejack swats him with the thick part of her mane. “Ah told ‘em Babs Seed could come down here ‘long as she wants, but that was before the Crusaders left with Miss Glimmer.” Her voice falls to a hush, audible to those in the room but no further. “See, she’s been gettin’ bullied on account’a lackin’ a cutie mark, an’ Ah thought those three could help. But now that they’re gone…”

“What about Pomarbo?” Twilight asks. “She could hang out with him. Maybe they could hunt for cutie marks together!”

“Heh, if she can pry little Miss Tiara off his head?” Applejack chuckles. “She’s got her fangs sunk in deeper’n’a fruit bat in our prize apples.” Applejack blinks as she realizes what she just said. “An’, with that said, Ah think Ah should go check on ‘em. Ya know, just to be sure any o’ that ain’t goin’ on.”

Next Chapter: Ch. 90 - Malicious Intent, Part Two* Estimated time remaining: 17 Hours, 42 Minutes