Chapter 1: Home in the River Valley
Her head was about to explode. Apple Bloom strained her mind so hard that she was certain another moment of concentration would cause her skull to simply pop under the pressure, allowing all her useless thoughts and ideas to splatter across the riverbank in a brilliant spray of pure brainpower. She squinted tightly and clenched her teeth. Summoning every ounce of concentration in her young mind, she braced for one final surge of mental exertion. Something was coming to her. It was a brilliant idea, she could feel it. The thought was ready to enter her mind, but she couldn't focus on it, like an apple that just wouldn't buck. Sweat broke out on her brow as she let out a loud groan. It was too much. The filly flopped backwards and allowed her mind to relax, absolutely exasperated with her lack of progress. It was a feeling she had known far too well on her quest for a cutie mark.
"Ah got nuthin'," she admitted, lolling her head to the left to bring her friends into view.
"Think harder!" insisted Sweetie Belle, "at this rate, we'll never get our cutie marks!"
"Yah can't jus' get a cutie mark by thinkin' 'bout it for a long time."
"Yea, we tried mediation last week," Scootaloo pointed out.
The trio sat in silence for a moment, looking around for inspiration. Applejack had suggested that they ought to go out and find fresh ideas. She said sitting in the clubhouse all day was caging their thoughts. The cutie mark crusaders had taken the advice. They wandered through town, losing track of their objectives and themselves, eventually finding their way to a secluded part of the river's bank.
It was a lazy summer day, and the whole world seemed to be spinning slowly. Even the excitable cutie mark crusaders were unusually calm under the warm sun and cool breeze. They lay in the shade of a beautiful oak. The whole biome seemed to be trying to convince them that crusading could wait. The leaves gently rustled overhead, the branches slowly swaying to and fro. Birds sang in perfect harmony, tempting the fillies into sleep.
"Will you shut up?" cried the jarring, impatient voice of a nearby mare.
"They're birds, Thrift. They can't understand you," replied the equally irritable tone of her male companion, ignoring the furious and insulted chirps of a nearby blue jay.
The fillies snapped out of their nap to regard the new arrivals. They were a pair of unicorns wearing sharp suits and bored frowns. The mare studied her surroundings keenly with piercing green eyes that contrasted brilliantly with her tan coat and neat, black mane. She glared at everything with distrust and bemused disapproval, as if she expected the whole world to pull a fast one on her. Her eyes never fell on one item for too long. With hawklike perception, she was constantly scanning for the next threat, and the next opportunity. She was a fairly young adult, but her face bore no trace of youthful joy or hope.
The stallion who strolled beside her seemed thoroughly bored by all this 'life' business. His coat was a light gray, his mane still a shade lighter. Wrinkles ran across his face. Dark bags had long since made themselves home around his dull blue eyes. He had a thousand yard stare, and seemed to have little regard for his immediate surroundings. Each of his long strides seemed to flow on from the last with a sense of purpose and determination. Any observer could see that he would not allow anything to get in the way of whatever serious business he was undertaking.
"Ya'all ever seen them before?" Apple Bloom asked in a hushed tone.
"I think they're new in town," replied the pegasus.
"They look awful serious."
"I bet they're up to something," Sweetie Belle joked with a cheeky grin.
"Some pony ought'a keep an eye on 'em."
The trio froze as the idea hit them all at once. They exchanged silent glances for a brief moment, before simultaneously springing to their hooves with glee. A loud clap rang out as the three fillies bumped hooves.
"Cutie mark crusaders super sneaky spies!" they cried, before hushing one another with a loud "shush".
Sweetie Belle lowered herself to the ground and leopard crawled into a nearby bush, beckoning her friends to follow. They complied without hesitation. With a rustling of leaves, they stuck their heads out of their cover one by one. As the pair continued down the river bank, the cutie mark crusaders stalked them, darting from bush to bush as stealthily as possible. All the while, the pair were mute, and the fillies began to lose interest.
"I'm bored," Sweetie Belle confessed.
"Me too," agreed the pegasus.
Apple Bloom felt her friends staring at her, waiting for her to concur. They were left wanting as the earth pony frowned in confusion at the ponies they were stalking.
"Now, why in the hay are they headed that way?" she mused as the suited ponies turned towards Sweet Apple Acres.
Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo hung back as the two unicorns approached Applejack, who was lazing beneath an apple tree. The farmer tilted her Stetson and grinned broadly at the new arrivals before springing to her feet. She shook their hooves enthusiastically, with typical Sweet Apple Acres hospitality. Even at their distance, the cutie mark crusaders could hear her warm greeting. The unicorns were suddenly wearing pleasant, generous expressions, mimicking the workhorse's sentiment.
Applejack allowed her excitement to die down, and her voice dropped to a volume that was inaudible to the crusaders. The suited stallion said something to her with a thin smile. The grin on Applejack's face faded, giving way to a look of concern. She slowly made her way towards a nearby barn, beckoning the unicorns to follow. She called out to Big Macintosh and Granny Smith to join them.
The fillies exchanged curious glances before creeping towards the barn. They came into earshot just in time to hear the unicorn mare say "So, who are these fillies who have been following us from the river?" with a nod towards the bush the crusaders were hiding in. Without hesitation and wearing smiles as sweet and innocent as you please, the crusaders hopped from their cover
"You three! Yah can't jus' follow a pony 'round like that," Applejack scolded in annoyance.
"We're sorry," Sweetie Belle whimpered, casting her head down in shame.
"We were just curious is all," Apple Bloom added, following her friend's lead.
"It won't happen again," promised Scootaloo.
Applejack regarded the fillies for a moment. They shrank under her gaze, appearing very sorry and, frankly, adorable. Their pupils were dilated impossibly and they were avoiding eye contact. Each filly was impossibly still, as if petrified by their own guilt. All at once, they pulled themselves up and shot puppy dog eyes at Applejack.
"Please forgive us," Sweetie Belle whimpered. Experience had taught them the art of the fake apology.
Big Macintosh and Granny Smith walked up next to Applejack and saw the apologetic fillies. They glanced disapprovingly at the orange coated pony. How could those three little fillies have done any wrong?
"Well, it's all right," Applejack said reluctantly, "now you three run along. We got big pony business to discuss."
The crusaders stared on repentantly as Applejack, Granny Smith, Big Macintosh and the two unicorns entered the barn. As soon as the door shut, the trio raced to it. Pushing their heads against the barn, they strained their ears to eavesdrop on the "big pony business".
"Alright," said Applejack once the door was closed firmly behind her, "I guess you two better say yeh piece, then we'll give our response."
"Indeed," agreed the unicorn stallion, "My name is Robert Baron, this is my associate Thrift. We have an interest in your farm-"
"What kind of interest?" demanded Granny Smith suspiciously.
The unicorn smiled affectionately at the old mare before continuing, "Straight to the point. I like that. We want to buy Sweet Apple Acres, and we're prepared to pay-"
"Not for sale."
"We're prepared to pay-"
"You can't put a price on our lifestyle. The farm's not for sale."
"We're prepared to pay-"
"Not. For. Sale."
"We're prepared to pay fifty million bits," the stallion managed finally.
Granny Smith opened her mouth to protest, but could summon no sound. She allowed her mouth to close as her eyes widened. It was beyond belief. Nothing like this had ever happened before. They could be rich, beyond their wildest dreams. It took a moment for the idea to sink in.
Robert Baron felt the tide turning in his favour, and persisted by saying "I represent a VERY determined client. With VERY extensive resources. This money could carry your family a long way. You could have a whole new life."
"Family meeting!" demanded the old mare, pulling Applejack and Big Macintosh into a tight huddle with their backs to the unicorns. The three of them whispered frantically for a while. They were inaudible even to the perceptive Thrift. They sounded ecstatic at first, but their excitement dwindled as they continued their hushed conversation. Eventually, they let out a collective sigh and turned to face the unicorns reluctantly.
"Nope," Big Macintosh said.
"Sorry," Applejack added, "but our family started this farm. Sweet Apple Acres saw Ponyville founded and all. There's a lotta, err, whadyacallit..."
"Sentimental value?" suggested Big Macintosh.
"A lotta sentimental value attached to this place. We can't just leave it in the hooves of somepony else. We've put generations of work and thought into the farm, and we ain't about to let it slip away from us. Not to mention that it's our parents' legacy and all. We can't let it slip away. Not for all the money in the world. Can't put a value on somethin' like this. I hope ya'all understand."
"I assure you we'd take very good care of the place," insisted Thrift.
"Now, I'm sure you would. But this farm... it's what we are, ya know? Wouldn't trade it for the world. I'm sorry, but we can't give up on the ol' girl, even if it would make us millionaires."
"Is that your final answer?"
"That's our final answer."
Thrift glanced over at the stallion by her side, searching for some indication of their next move. He met her eyes for only a moment. With the slightest shake of his head, completely imperceptible to the earth ponies, he made his message clear. The pair looked at their would-be sellers with disappointment, but maintained friendly smiles.
"Well, we're sorry you feel that way," Thrift concluded as she stood up, "we know you're busy, and won't take up any more of your time. Have a nice day."
"No problem. Sorry we couldn't oblige yah," Applejack smiled.
"Thank you for having us," Robert Baron said, exiting the barn with his colleague.
The crusaders scurried back into their bush before the door was fully opened. They were determined to remain unseen this time. Staying low to the ground and completely motionless, they observed the pair of unicorns carefully. The friendly smiles had dropped from their faces, replaced by the same old bored, businesslike frowns. They trotted together in silence, hurrying down the road to some new very important appointment. The cutie mark crusaders crawled after them, staying within earshot.
"So what now?" Spec inquired after they were a sufficient distance from the barn.
"We never expected them to sell," Robert Baron said matter-of-factly, "but we need to look like the good guys here. Ponies need to think that we took every reasonable action before taking more hostile measures."
"Hostile measures?" Thrift halted, and nudged her hoof gently against the stallion. She nodded towards the nearby shrub and smirked.
"I wouldn't worry about that," Robert Baron said with a wave of his hoof, "Anyway, you know what I mean by hostile. Devious. Nefarious. Odious. You were asking me earlier why we bought that plot of land further upstream. Well, such a site would be perfect for a new food processing plant."
"Building a plant upstream of an agricultural town?"
"Yea, you get the picture. You've got to think outside the box in this line of work, Thrift. We'll be the sole distributor of apples in the Midwest within a year."
"Does it matter that-"
"Don't worry about them," the stallion looked directly at the cutie mark crusaders, who thought they were so well hidden in the vegetation, "no pony will take a trio of little fillies seriously. Even if they did, there's really nothing they could do about it. We couldn't fail if we tried."
The crusaders emerged from their hiding spot and stood defiantly before the unicorns. Apple Bloom frowned scornfully at them. She was determined to take a stand against them, to say something truly meaningful and intimidating.
"Ah don't know what ya'all got planned, but it won't work. The farm's been in our family fer generations, and we ain't about to lose it," was all she could manage.
"Don't believe in that too strongly," the stallion suggested in an empathetic tone, "don't believe in anything too strongly. You'll only ever end up disappointed. I've been alive a long, long time. Let me share a little gem of wisdom: all that matters in life is what you can take from it, and for every winner there's a loser. I've been doing this sort of thing for decades, and I don't make a habit out of failure. We're always the winners. You know, we're doing you a favour, really. The sooner you learn this lesson, the better off you'll be. See you around, kiddo."
The stallion smiled at the fillies, before turning his back on them and heading down the road with his colleague close behind. Ignoring the infuriated glares of the fillies, he sighed deeply and shook his head in pity. It was a site he'd seen a hundred times before. He halted at the crossroad and turned back to regard the fillies once last time. As he expected, they were rushing up to the barn to warn Applejack of the impending "hostile measures."
"Do they always make it this hard for themselves?" inquired Thrift, "Do they always fight it?"
Robert Baron huffed cynically before replying, "Only when they have no chance."