Applejack was still miffed, and Twilight and Rainbow Dash both still somewhat ashamed, even well after the... encounter earlier in the day. The sun is now starting to dip, and the light fading to usher in a peaceful night on the farmland, and all the farm work that needed to be done in the day was only just moments ago finally finished.
"I can't believe that y'all would just come in swingin' like that," Applejack seethes, not for the first time that day, "I can sorta see it from Dash, but really Twilight, you too? Usually us girls get smarter when there's a-more than the one of us together."
"Look, we said we're sorry, AJ," Rainbow defends the pair, still feeling bad, but impatience with the long-winded reminders and reprimands growing within her, "Everything we heard and saw pointed to bad news. We've told you all about it. Twilight even showed you the entries, he was scouting ahead for an invasion!"
"Be that as it may," Twilight cuts in, placing a placating hand on the fiery girl's shoulder, "We did act before we thought things fully through. There's another side or two to the story that we didn't try to get, and it ended... badly." She finishes meekly, blinking her still dry-feeling eyes, rubbing an eyelid gently.
"So y'all are willing to hear out his side? Especially since you've already heard mine?"
"A few times too many," Dash mutters bitterly, earning a small glare. Even so, the two nod their heads in affirmation, and Applejack nods with a satisfied smile. Now, she just had to find that one tree - it was around this section of the orchard somewhere... Then she spots it: the tree with more debris and clutter around it than the others she had seen earlier.
"Alright there, sugarcube," she calls in a carrying voice, laying a hand on the lasso rope she picked up on the way back out to this field as a precaution, "Ya's can come out now. I know you're up there somewhere." The declaration was met with disembodied, muffled profanity and a ruffling of leaves. Twilight and Rainbow's moment of confusion was tinged for the second time that day with an edge of fear as, quickly and quietly, a lanky, shadowy figure slinks down from the thick and obscured leaves, striking the rustling ground almost like a liquid and flowing into a sideways roll, coming up in a low squat, a hand resting on the pommel of his knife.
"You really know your land, don't you?" Johnny asks rhetorically, an air of impression in his voice. The moments of honest communication between the two had clearly built up some measure of connection, as he didn't flee or lash out at the non-aggressive ambush.
"There were more apples fallen under this tree than any of the others" is the simple response.
"Clever girl. I knew something like that would fuck me sooner or later."
A short moment of silence passed awkwardly in the growing dark between the sound of clicking knees as Johnny stood from his crouch and Applejack meaningfully clearing her throat.
"Right," Twilight says, catching the hint and wanting to clear up some of the mess that she took part in making. Again. "We're, um, we're really sorry about attacking you like that earlier. We were looking over the journal and notes you tossed our way yesterday, and may have jumped to a few conclusions that were less than good and less than true."
Johnny grunted in acknowledgement and thought. "Well, I'm rather used to being thought of poorly, so don't worry about that." The comment had it's ill-willed effect of making the girls feel a bit worse, "And hearin' what you've got to say, it sounds like ya were tryin' to do your bit protecting your friends and home. I respect that. Even if you didn't do it very smart-like."
"What do you mean 'didn't do it smart'?" Rainbow challenges, taking a sharp tone. Nothing so far had proven anything less than dangerous to what she loved and cared for except for Applejack's comment that he's okay. Words she hears don't undo actions that she's seen. "We saw everything you were thinking and seeing, looking at the town like a target, marking down who's going where and doing what like a creep. What's stupid about trying to stop yo- stop that?"
"Well, you didn't bother with getting my side."
"Well, we didn't bother with getting his side."
Johnny and Twilight make the same comment at the same time, surprising each other.
"It was your notebook!" Dash yells, frustrated at having to repeat herself again, "That is your side."
"It's your interpretation of my side," Johnny corrects her, voice firm and arms crossed over his chest, "Like, my interpretation of your side, from your own words, is that you don't like me because you're afraid, and so you're against me at every chance and attacked me unprovoked. I bet you wouldn' say the same, though."
"I'm not scared of you! I'm!.. I'm..." Dash's knee-jerk retort dies in her throat as she takes his point and an introspective gaze takes over her features. "Tomorrow," she says firmly after a moment, "All of us are getting together and clearing everything up. You're not keeping any secrets, and we'll tell you what you need to know about this place." The whole group nods in pleasant agreement with the idea, and a time is set mid-day to give time to let the others know.
"Boom. Thorough reconnaissance stops colossal fuckups." He once again turns to Applejack, his tone suddenly much more timid. "I hate to ask, but d'you figure there's an open space up in the loft of the barn I could make use of?"
With a nonchalant affirmative response, Johnny once more throws himself up into the branches to retrieve his gear before joining the girls on the walk back to the barn before the whole crew bids each other goodnight - quite a step in the right direction for Johnny, considering the day started with an ambush between him and the two non-farmers.
By the time Johnny hears Applejack walking into the barn - even with as early as she wakes up - he'd already been awake for quite a while, now sitting on a crate on the edge of the loft floor. Only recently had the growing light started to filter in through a few small gaps or cracks in the roof and walls. When she looks up, she jumps slightly in surprise, not used to the man just yet, and certainly not expecting to see him sitting up, the barn cat rubbing happily against his legs, and her family's axe in his hands as he looks it over and pensively grazes a thumb across the edge.
"So, I was gonna ask ya about this yesterday, but then... well, ya know," he starts, still not looking away from the tool, "But what is it y'all use this ol' axe for, usually?"
Odd question, it seems to the cowgirl; what would he think they do with it?
"Well, whatever axes are good for, ya know," she responds, her face twisting in confusion at the query, "Splittin' firewood, trimming excessive branches from trees, all sorts a stuff."
Johnny blows a low whistle at that, finally looking away from the beaten axe head, turning his eyes to the girl and spinning the haft slowly in his hands, feeling the well-worn wood.
"This thing 'as been beaten on hard, not sure if'n ya realized," he comments with a chuckle, "The ol' thing couldn't cut me if I tried, and I bet it gives you and yer brother a good bit trouble, too. I'd be more'n happy to fix it up for ya, if you're interested. I'd just need a decent file, an' maybe a stone."
"Oh." Applejack doesn't quite know what to say to the offer at first. The tool had, indeed, been thoroughly used and abused over the years, and neither she nor her brother had made fixing it up a priority, aside from an occasional bit of oil. They hadn't really noticed much of a difference one way or the other, but the man seems fixated on it. Besides, she figures, it would be something for him to do to get his mind off of things, and might be useful, even. "Ahm, yeah, sure, there should be about all ya need in the corner of the tool stall, the last one on the left down here."
"A'ight, Ah'll get a-goin' on that," Johnny drawls, slinking over to the loft ladder. He retreats to the directed stall, and almost immediately, Applejack can hear the sounds of tools moving and shifting around, and a jaunty tune being whistled just moments before the sound of a couple metallic clinks and the harsh sound of a file rasping against metal. She shakes her head and chuckles in disbelief at the rapid change taking hold of the man, a far cry already from the figure they dragged out of the Castle of the Royal Sisters.
As long as it gives him somethin' he feels is good to do, the thought crosses her mind as she turns on her heel and leaves the barn to check on the day's section of the orchard, picking up the trimming shears and metal rake on her way out.
Throughout the morning, she had to stop by the barn twice more for odds and ends and the small errand, and each time the grating sounds of filing greeted her before she even passed through the big double doors. The last time she stopped, to drop off her tools before gathering the man for to go meet with the girls, it's a much smoother hissing coming from the stall that stops just about the same moment as she enters. The sight in the stall surprises her: Johnny is sitting peacefully, the long ends of his hair slicked with sweat and plastered across his forehead, on the log that was brought in as a stool, critically looking over his handywork on the almost unrecognizable edge in his hands. Where before it was all the solid dark brown of old and not-quite-rusted metal, now there shines a half inch or so of brightly polished metal along the edge, and the whole face of the tool had been wire brushed clean and free of irregularities. She tips her hat back, but before she can comment, he starts talking first, his voice clear and decided.
"Hey, I'm sorry about how... standoffish I've been," Johnny says, looking up to meet her eyes for a moment, but unable to hold the contact before continuing, "I was trying to show appreciation for all your doing for me by helpin out, but I should probably just say it with words before any more problems pop up from not communicating properly.
I'm still trying to work through the whole 'brave new world' thing, but I figure I can either stay pining away for what I don't have anymore forever; or I can try to move forward and make the most of the situation. I don't want to wallow in misery for the rest o' my days. I'd like to someday have a home again, even if that means it has to be a new home here, not where I'm really from. So... I recon I'm asking if I can try to move forward by workin' here. Maybe trade work for lodging in the barn? Try to make a better life through hard work again. I'd be much obliged if you'd consider it."
Applejack's chest swells at the drawled proclamation, happy to see the man reaching a workable conclusion and trying to put a strong foot forward. This meeting, it suddenly seems to her, will go a lot better than she was dreading with such an outlook. So with a wide smile, she responds.
"Yeah, I'm sure we can make that work. 'S long as that there axe works as good as it looks, anyhow."
Sorry to be leaving another note like this - I generally try not to - but I've reached a point where, going forward, a lot more of the slow, easy-going slice of life-type story will pick up. That being said, I'd sincerely welcome any sort of feedback or suggestions or what have you about things you want done better, what you'd like to see explored, topics you'd like to see touched on, et c. So I'm counting on you - yes, the two or three of you who actually follow this whole thing - to help me out with that. If you don't want to deal with the permanence and public nature of a comment, feel free to hit me up on D.M.
Nitro19, empressakura655, marcsmam, coocoogamer: you are the wind beneath my wings.
Cheers,
ThatLangaugeGuy out