This choice: You should take her home to Sweet Apple Acres! • Go Back...Chapter #6Granny again by: Godot   Applejack sure is a lively one! You can barely keep her still, with all her kicking and giggling. By the time you're finished feeding her the little cup of cinnamon applesauce, she's managed to completely coat herself in the sticky mush. You think you're going to have to get her home right away so you can get her in a nice comfy bed with a little poofy diaper on her wittle bitty rear.
Actually, you decide to slip one of your crinkly ones on her now just in case she has a little accident on the way over.
"Ready to go baby?" You ask your little bundle of joy, who can only giggle in response. That's the closest you're probably getting to a yes, so you scoop her up onto your back. "Oh my, such a heavy baby you are! We're gonna need something to carry you, aren't we?"
She laughs and kicks her hooves against your belly. Normally that'd hurt, but her muscles are relaxed to the point of uselessness, so it's like being kicked by a little baby. Like the baby she is.
"Wanna ride in the apple cart sweetums?"
"Yah! Yah!"
You smile as you load your big baby into the back of the apple cart and pass her a rattle so she can pass her time by shaking and probably chewing on it. Thankfully, she's not so heavy as to keep you from pulling her all the way to her home. At first you were worried that you wouldn't be able to find Sweet Apple Acres, but then you realize that it's a Celestia-damned farm! You'd have to be nearly blind to miss finding a farm on the edge of this little town. Still, you take your time while you do it, so you can listen to Applejack burble and speak to her while you walk. You even sing her some little songs while you do it, making her laugh and clop her hooves together in messy time to your melodies.
"Oh!" You stop singing just in time to see the farmhouse on the horizon, "Sweetums, is that your home?"
Applejack pulls herself up to look at the familiar home, "Appluu! Appluu haus!"
"Ooooh, Apple house! Is that it?" You ask her in a playful tone.
"Yah! Yah!"
She means the Apple Family house, of course. She definitely remembers her home, that much is clear. As you pull her little wagon up to the front door she starts hopping up and down until she nearly bounces out of the cart.
"Gwammy Smit, Gwammy Smit, Gwammy Smit!" She chants.
You guess "Grammy Smit" must live here with her. You'll have to take a little time to convince the old mare of the joys of adult foals, but you doubt that will be very difficult. Mares in general are much more receptive of seeing their loved ones as little foals again.
You help Applejack off the cart (although she really jumps into your arms without your help) and carry her to the door, just in time for an old green mare to open the door. She's a terribly withered old thing, grey-haired and supported by a walker. She seems to have trouble seeing you, but she still smiles. She must love visitors.
"Hello there dearie," she says, "can ah help you?"
"Gwammy Smit!"
Her tired eyes slowly open with confusion and surprise, "Applejack is that-"
"Hello, I'm Orange Cream. We need to talk."
You let yourself in, depositing your foal onto the couch. Granny Smith seems to have a lot of trouble understanding exactly what's going on, but you're sure that she'll understand in time. They always do. While Applejack kicks and giggles and burbles, Granny Smith looks her over. The grandmother gives her a few pokes her in the belly and makes her shake with gleeful joy.
"What's wrong with her?"
"Oh, nothing's wrong. She's just a baby in her head now, and she'll stay that way."
"Is that all?" She says. You nod, and she nods too, then Granny smith screams, "What!?"
"Don't look so panicked, she's so calm and relaxed now. And don't try to tell me you wouldn't like to keep her a foal for just a little longer."
"I..." Granny Smith doesn't know what to say. She starts to remember the last time she saw Applejack like this was... Years go. She remembered feeding her applesauce and singing camping songs to little baby Applejack while she baked apple pies. She remembers back when her little granddaughter didn't even have a Cutie Mark, when she hardly left the farmhouse. She doesn't stay with her old Granny much anymore, but now she would have to. She would have to rely on Granny Smith again. A little bittersweet tear runs down the tired old mare's eye.
"If you want to change her back," you hold out the bottle of pills to Granny Smith, "all you have to do is give her one of these."
She pushes the bottle away, "Nah.. She's perfect." You were already smiling, but that makes you grin even wider, and then Granny says something that stretches your grin from ear to ear.
"You don't suppose you could do what you did to a big ol' stallion, do ya?"
...
Big Macintosh turned much easier than you thought he would've. The machine worked quickly, sapping the muscular mare of every bit of self-sufficiency and leaving him a two-hundred pound foal that could barely stand on his own. Right now you're standing above them both while they roll about in Apple Bloom's old playpen(which you fetched from the attic at Granny Smith's request). You're jingling a key ring above their heads, making them drool with amazement. In the air is the distinct scent of apples and cinnamon.
"Granny Smith, is the apple cobbler almost ready?" You call to her, "We need to make sure it's cool before the little darlings get hungry!"
Granny calls back, "Just a bit, Orange Dearie! Make sure my babies are happy 'till the grub comes!"
"Can do!"
You're having so much fun with these little, er, big foals that you don't even hear the door swing open until it creaks near the end of its swing. Standing there, wide-eyed, is Apple Bloom, youngest of the Apples. She's looking right at you and she has never been more confused in her whole life. Luckily for her, you've already got a plan for her. Little Apple Bloom is going...   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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