Always an Apple ( Granny Smith )

Tonight, Granny Smith couldn't sleep.

She laid awake in her bed staring at the wooden ceiling above her. Moonlight cast the timbers in a soft blue. A gentle breeze tugged and teased at the curtains through the open window. It made the room a little bit too chilly, and it occurred to her that she should probably shut the window, lest she wake up shivering in the morning.

She remained in bed. Her scratchy wool blanket made her itch under her coat. The quiet sounds of the night at the farm came to her. Low creaks from the old bones of the farmhouse. Soft mutters from the pig pen outside as the animals stirred in their sleep. Crickets calling out to one another across the fields. If she listened closely she could hear the breaths of her family drifting in from the hallway.

Granny shivered in her bed, she really should close that window. There was no sense in catching a cold because she was too stubborn to get out of bed and take a couple steps across her room. She let out a quiet sigh and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

She paused before her hooves touched the floor. Her ears perked up as she heard little hooves making their way down the hallway. The hooves clattered down the stairs and through the front door. Granny Smith got out of bed and looked out the window to catch a flash of orange as it darted out to the barn.

She chewed the inside of her cheek watching as yellow lantern light spilled out of the barn door. The shadow of her granddaughter moved back and forth across the square of light, accompanied by metallic clangs and rattles the sound of a filly rummaging through the storage shelves in the barn.

Granny Smith drew a long breath and left her bedroom. She stepped silently down the stairs careful not to wake her other two grandchildren and pulled an old shawl over her shoulders before stepping outside.

She made the short trip from the house to the barn and found Applejack in the center of the barn floor grunting in frustration as she spun around, a pair of shears in her mouth. The filly kept trying to move the shears to her flank but lacked the flexibility to reach so she ended up looking like a dog trying to chase its tail.

“Applejack, sweetie,” Granny Smith said. She winced at how hoarse and reedy she sounded. Celestia, she was getting old already. “What are you doin' with those sheep shears?”

Applejack froze. A moment of panic crossed her face, giving her the expression of a filly who was caught doing something she wasn't supposed to do, but it was quickly replaced by a sudden hardness in her eyes. She spat the shears out into her forehooves. “I'm getting rid of my cutie mark.” she said sullenly.

Granny slowly took another step into the barn. “Now why would you wanna do a thing like that?”

“'Cause.” Applejack said, staring at the shears. “You said my mark means family.”

Granny Smith nodded. “That it does hun. your an Apple, sure as sugar.”

“Ma and Pa are gone.” said the filly. She tried to pick up and use the shears with her hooves meeting with no more success than she had with her mouth. Frustrated, she threw the tool at the wall. “Ain't no family no more.”

The old mare's breath caught. Her knees threatened to buckle as memories of Applejacks parents broke free of the wall she had built around them and flooded her mind. She sank to her haunches and for a while she couldn't tell which of them was the crying filly and which was the heartbroken old mare.

But through her blurry tears she saw a pair of green eyes, wide with shock at seeing their grandmother break down and weep. That gave Granny an anchor to grab onto and haul herself back up. She pushed herself back onto her hooves.

Granny Smith wiped her muzzle, and pulled her shawl off draping it over Applejack. “You keep them apples hun.” she said sniffing. “We're still a family and don't you ever doubt that.”

Applejack leaned into her hugging her leg. Tears flowed freely from her eyes. “I miss them so much.” she sobbed into her green coat.

Granny wrapped a hoof around her. “I know dearie. I do too.”

Curled up with her granddaughter in a pile of hay in the barn, Granny Smith finally found sleep, with tears still streaming down her cheek.