//------------------------------// // Apples and Pride // Story: Gryphon A Second Chance // by RedSavant //------------------------------// Well now! I can hardly believe the numbers - this chapter nearly doubles the current word count! Thanks so much for all the comments and reviews - your patience with my schedule is much appreciated, and thank you all for giving Gilda the chance to prove herself, however slowly. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Fluttershy woke up slowly, letting wakefulness seep into her body. A few swishes of her tail, back and forth; next, her legs, then her back, as she got her feet under her and stretched her rump up into the air. Finally, with a shake of her head and a few flicks of her ears, she opened her eyes… …To find Gilda sitting nearby, watching her with a claw pressed against her beak and an expression that suggested she was trying very hard not to burst out laughing. Fluttershy immediately shrank back, feeling her face heat, and she stammered as she looked around, belatedly remembering where she was. The storm and the night had passed while she slept; by the pale golden sunlight streaming through the windows, it was midmorning, later than she usually slept. That, and the flattened patch of rug by the bed, explained the stiffness in her shoulders and back. "I-I'm so sorry," she finally managed, apologizing to Gilda's feet. "I don't know what came over me last night – I was just very tired, I guess… I hope I didn't disturb you or make you uncomfortable or anything…" Even looking in the general direction of the gryphon was starting to get embarrassing. "Um…" "No, no," Gilda choked, waving away the pegasus's consternation. "Don't worry about it. Really." She managed to hold off another second, then snorted and buried her head in her pillow. Muffled laughter was audible through the down, and Fluttershy whimpered a bit. "Sorry! Sorry," Gilda gasped, coming back up for air. She flopped down onto the bedspread, still chuckling, and wiped a tear from her eye. "So… you do that rump-wiggle thing every morning?" she asked, grinning at Fluttershy. "'Cause I could get used to it." Fluttershy blinked at Gilda for a moment, then her back legs gave out. "O-Oh," she stammered, her face on fire again. "I-I'm very flattered, Gilda, and you're a very pretty gryphon, but I'm… I'm not, um… I don't…like… um…" Gilda stared at her. "What?" Then the pin dropped, and she reared back, looking horrified. "Wha— No! Hell no! I meant it was funny, not…! I'm not into pon—" Gilda stopped herself before she finished the patently untrue sentence. "I'm not into you, anyway. Not that you're not, y'know… oh, shit." She slumped back down onto the bed, pressing her claws over her eyes. There was a deafening silence as Fluttershy attempted to hide her entire body behind her mane. Fortunately for them both, Angel cleared his throat from the top of the stairs; Gilda sprang gratefully to her feet, stepping down off the bed. "Come on, Fluttershy," she said, starting down the stairs. "Must be breakfast time or whatever." She nodded thanks to Angel, who rolled his eyes at her and motioned for Fluttershy to hurry up. "So, I've been thinking," Gilda said a few minutes later, sitting down at the table. She'd been a little skeptical of eating pony food at first, but the bread Fluttershy had made for lunch yesterday wasn't bad at all, a hearty wheat bread with some sort of honey glaze on top; she shredded her loaf idly as she continued, occasionally eating a piece. "You said something about forgiving me last night. You think the others would too? Pinkie Pie and that old pony, I mean. I guess I was pretty much a bitch to everyone in Ponyville, come to think of it, but…" She shrugged, popping a breadball into her beak. "I think they will," Fluttershy said, setting down Angel's breakfast and looking up. The rabbit set to with a vengeance, and Fluttershy joined Gilda at the table for her own meal. "Pinkie Pie is a good pony at heart; she's just a little... silly sometimes." She paused, munching a sprig of celery. "Um, by 'old pony', do you mean Granny Smith?" Gilda shrugged again. "Old green pony. Didn't quite catch her name. I tricked her into thinking my tail was a snake." She swished her tail around to demonstrate the point. Fluttershy gasped. "Gilda, that's so mean! She's very old. She might have hurt herself." She took another bite of celery, looking somewhat disappointed. "Hey," Gilda replied, feeling surprisingly stung. "Look, where I come from, if you make it as far as old, you know how to take shit from people – that is, you don't. Not from anyone. It's not my fault your old folks don't –" She broke off with a visible effort. "Damn. Sorry." She sighed, resting her forehead on the edge of the table. "This is gonna suck. Just sayin'." "I'm sorry," Fluttershy said quietly. "I know you're trying your best." She came around the table and leaned against Gilda's shoulder. "I'll help you-" She squeaked as a brisk knock sounded on the door. "Expecting visitors?" Gilda asked archly, gently but firmly pushing Fluttershy away. She stood and stretched her powerful shoulders and legs as Fluttershy trotted over to the door, Angel following close behind. She turned to watch her hostess, only mildly interested in the knock. "Not really," Fluttershy replied. "It might be-" she began, peeking through the little window inset in her door. "Ah! It's my friends!" She nosed the top section of her door open. "Man, it's about time! Where the heck have you been for the past two days?" asked the blue pegasus whose nose was suddenly in her face. Rainbow Dash was hovering just about the cobblestones of Fluttershy's doorstep, resting her hooves on the door; she frowned at her yellow friend. "We were freakin' worried about you, you know! You can't just disappear off the face of the planet like that!" "Rainbow, dear, please," Rarity said from behind her. A blue and magenta glow enveloped Dash and she floated backwards, wings beating futilely. "Give her some space. You must remember that not everypony is as, ah, robust as you." Dash sniffed as she was set down between her two companions, and Twilight Sparkle stepped forward as the glow of magic around her horn dissipated. "Good morning, Fluttershy," she said, offering a patient smile. Fluttershy did her best to return it, and Twilight continued. "How have you been recently? I haven't seen you around town at all for a few days, and when I mentioned it to Rarity, she said the same, so we thought we'd come check up on you. We kind of ran into Rainbow Dash along the way." She looked back at Dash, who tapped a hoof impatiently. "Oh, I-I've been just fine," Fluttershy said, looking off toward the kitchen. Gilda's face was just visible over the counter, her beak poking over the edge; she looked rather upset. "I've been taking care of a p-patient, so I've been kind of busy…" She checked with Gilda again, who nodded, still on edge. "Oh, that's okay then," Twilight replied, visibly relieved. "We were just worried that, living so close to the forest, you might have run into something. Like a manticore or a cockatrice…" A small shiver passed through her, and she regained her focus with a visible effort. "Anyway, it's good to see you again! What sort of patient are you treating?" "O-Oh," Fluttershy replied, eyes widening. She cast another look at Gilda, who had ducked entirely behind the counter; she was on her own. "She – um, he is, he's…a bear, that…" "Come on," Dash replied, scowling. "That only works on Pinkie Pie." She pushed past Twilight to get back to the door. "Look, Fluttershy," she said quietly. "Have you seen Gilda at all? Like, yesterday or the day before that, maybe?" Rarity paused in examining her pedicure. "Your gryphon friend? Ugh," she said, somehow making her disgust sound ladylike. "Trust me, Rainbow Dash, there is a sort that one must be careful not to associate with, and that dreadful gryphon counts quite firmly among them." Dash frowned at her. "Hey! She's not…" she sighed, settling down onto the ground. "Yeah, okay, maybe," she continued quietly, after a moment. "I guess so." Twilight turned to look at her friend. "I thought she lived in Cloudsdale, anyway," she said, looking a little confused. "Dash, is something going on? You've been jumpy the whole morning." "N-no, nothing's wrong," Dash replied hotly. "I just, ugh, whatever. I have to go… practice some stuff. Or something. I'll catch you girls later." She turned around and rocketed off back toward Ponyville before any of her friends could speak up. "She's been acting strangely lately," Twilight said, frowning after the rapidly vanishing prismatic trail in the morning air. "But you know how she is. It's a chore getting anything out of her, much less anything she doesn't want to talk about." She sighed. "Fluttershy, I'm sorry – I'm sure we woke you up. It's good to see you again, though, and remember that if you need any help, all you have to do is ask." She nuzzled the yellow pegasus through the open door, then stepped down off the doorstep. "Do be sure not to forget our usual, dear," Rarity trilled, following suit. Fluttershy waved as they turned and headed down the cobbled path back through the thicket. "Goodbye," she said quietly. She shut the door, then turned back to Gilda. The gryphon emerged from behind the counter slowly, making sure that the ponies had gone before she settled down. Her talons tapped rhythmically on the hardwood floor. "Gilda, are you okay?" Fluttershy asked. Gilda said nothing; her gaze went straight through Fluttershy and into the couch against the far wall. The speed of her tapping increased slowly. Fluttershy took a tentative step toward her. "Gilda…?" "Shit," Gilda shouted suddenly, shooting to her feet and pounding a hand against the floor. Fluttershy screamed and jumped backward onto the couch, startled, and Gilda jerked as the motion snapped her out of her reverie. Pegasus and gryphon stared at each other, bodies tense, for a few moments, then they relaxed. "Uh, sorry," Gilda said, folding her wing with difficulty and sitting down. "It's just… y'know… that." She made a gesture toward the door that somehow encompassed the entire exchange that had just occurred. "Um," Fluttershy squeaked. She stepped down off the couch with trembling legs, her wings still fully up and out. "I don't… um…" Gilda stood again; her entire body fairly hummed with tension, and she paced in a tight circle. "You heard what Dash said," she said, staring at her feet as she clicked across the floorboards. "She thinks I'm 'dreadful'." She sneered the word, adopting a prissy accent that was unkind to Rarity in its accuracy. "But hey, I knew that already." She drew in a deep breath, then let it out in a visible effort to stay calm. "Whatever. Starting from square one. I've done that shit before." "Dash isn't like that," Fluttershy said quietly, regaining some of her composure, but Gilda didn't appear to be listening. She stalked over to the table and grabbed her half-eaten loaf, tearing a huge chunk off of it with her beak. Sitting down again, she finished off the bread; she drummed distractedly on the floor with a claw. "So like I was saying," she said suddenly, after a minute. "Dash told me last time I saw her that we weren't friends anymore." The words hurt, but she ignored the twinge in her chest. "Because of what I said and did to her real friends." Helpless little twits. "So that means that if I get her friends to forgive me, then she won't have anything left to complain about. And we can…" she cut off, a sudden lump in her throat. "Well… yeah." "You can be friends again," Fluttershy finished for her. She folded her wings and resettled them. "But Gilda, I-I'm not so sure-" "No time like now," Gilda said briskly, standing. She stepped past Fluttershy to the door and nudged the top open, peeking out around the frame. "Your friends're gone. Let's go." She pulled her head back in and swung the rest of the door open, walking out into the morning sun. "Gilda-" Fluttershy tried again, to similar effect. Staring down at her feet, she followed Gilda outside. The clouds had vanished with the night, leaving the morning dew and the crystal remnants of the rain to sparkle on the borderline between sunlight and shadow; the air felt fresh and clean, and the day was already heating up nicely. "Man, it's good to be back outside," Gilda said, stretching her free wing in the late morning sun. "Feel like I've been stuck in your dinky house for days." She flexed her arms and legs, her excitement tangible. "Where's that old green pony live? She's first." "Sweet Apple Acres," Fluttershy replied hesitantly. She frowned, taking a few steps closer to Gilda. "Gilda, I don't think you really-" "Let's go, Fluttershy," Gilda broke in impatiently. "If Dash sees me before I get this done, I'm screwed. So let's hurry up here." She set off down the road, not even looking back to see if she was going the right way. "Gilda, I… but…no…" Fluttershy protested, but after a few moments of increasingly upset squeaking, she stopped, sighed, and joined Gilda on the cobbled road. Hooves clattered and talons scraped down the road as they walked; Gilda occasionally asked questions, which Fluttershy answered to the best of her knowledge, but she couldn't shake the dark pit of worry that had settled into her stomach. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sweet Apple Acres was one of the cornerstones of Ponyville. The property of the Apple clan for generations, it provided the entire town and the surrounding countryside with rich, sweet, juicy fruit, and its many outposts, all populated by Apple clan members and Apple clan apple trees, did the same across the length and breadth of Equestria and lands beyond. On occasions, Sweet Apple apples had even ended up on the royal table in Canterlot. Princess Celestia herself was known to be fond of them. For such a large orchard, sometimes there wasn't all that much to do in terms of upkeep. This was evidently not one of those times. As Gilda and Fluttershy passed under the weathered wooden arch and its hanging sign that proclaimed 'Sweet Apple Acres', there was a flurry of activity visible in the rows of ancient apple trees standing in the distance – or at least, as much of a flurry as two ponies could produce. Gilda's sharp eyes focused on the young bronze mare with ease; the sun shone off of her sweat-sheened flanks as she bent and twisted to heave a massive broken branch into a nearby cart. The massive red stallion doing the same looked nothing like her, but there was definitely an indescribable family resemblance… and that wasn't mentioning their paired apple cutie marks. Gilda looked around a bit more, but the old green pony was nowhere to be found. She sighed. "Hey Fluttershy," she said, indicating the siblings with a claw. "You know those two? They related to the old pony?" "A-Applejack and Big Macintosh are her grandchildren," Fluttershy replied, peeking out from behind her hair. "I don't see Gran-" "Well, let's ask," Gilda said, setting off for the orchard. Fluttershy sighed and trailed after her, long since having given up on trying to stop the impetuous gryphon. "Hey," Gilda called, as she neared the cart. The edge of a beaten cowboy hat appeared over the twisted mass of deadwood that had already been collected, followed closely by a sun-gold mane and the head and shoulders of the bronze mare she had seen earlier. She was about the same age as Dash, maybe a little younger, and she looked vaguely familiar. Gilda raised a hand in a lazy wave. "Yeah, hi. You know-" "Well, howdy there," the mare called, smiling. The expression fit her as comfortably as the old hat did, and she hopped down off the cart's edge, coming around to stand in front of Gilda. "Don't suppose Ah've met you before. Woulda remembered a critter like you," she added with a wink, swiping her red-banded tail across her forehead. "Beg yer pardon. Ah'd shake yer hoof, but Big Mac an' Ah've been workin' all mornin', an' it's gotten a mite sweaty out. Ah'm Applejack," she said, crossing her hooves. "Welcome ta Sweet Apple Acres – oldest apple orchard in Equestria, Ah imagine," she chuckled. "Hi, Applejack," Fluttershy said quietly, a few paces behind Gilda. "Hello, Mr. Macintosh." She kicked a hoof in the dirt, looking at the big stallion's feet. Mac nodded courteously to her. "Miss Fluttershy." Applejack leaned to look around the gryphon's broad chest, then brightened as she saw the buttercup-yellow pegasus. "Hey there, Fluttershy! Haven't see you fer a while," she said, taking a few steps forward to nuzzle her friend before she thought better of it. "Busy out there in the forest, Ah take it?" "Y-you could say that," Fluttershy said, nodding. She opened her mouth to continue, but Applejack was already off again. "Well, Ah'm glad you're here," the farm mare said, nodding to herself. "Winona needs her checkup, after all, and Ah just couldn't find the time t'get out ta yer place." She paused to remember if there was anything else that needed veterinary attention, and the big red stallion behind her cleared his throat. Just once, and not loudly, but it was a big sound nonetheless. "Right," Applejack cried, smacking herself in the forehead with a hoof. "Ah'm so sorry, Ah plumb forgot Ah interrupted ya," she said, turning to Gilda. "What's yer name, an' if you don't mind me askin', what manner of critter are ya?" "Gilda," Gilda replied, pausing for a moment to see if she'd be interrupted by another flow of hospitality from the earth pony. "I'm a gryphon." She turned to look over her shoulder at the farmhouse. "You guys live with-" "Gilda? Gilda the Gryphon?" Applejack asked, frowning slightly. She thought for a moment, then her eyes widened. "Oh. Oh!" She took a step back from Gilda, frowning. "Oh yeah, Ah do remember you now! Yer that gryphon friend of Rainbow's, ain'tcha? From the party last year? Way Ah recall it, you burned yer bridges pretty hard last time you were here." "Yeah, maybe," Gilda replied, a bit of an edge in her voice. "Why is that the only thing everybody remembers?" "Well, it made a bit of an impression," Applejack replied, her tone a bit cooler than it had been. "An' Ah don't recall you havin' much of a better impression before that, ta be honest." Gilda said nothing, and after a moment Applejack shook her head, visibly making an effort to warm up again. "But Ah'm sorry. Ah guess if you were here ta make trouble, you woulda made it already." She looked back at her brother, who shrugged. "We were just gonna stop fer a bit of lunch, Big Mac an' Ah. Yer both welcome ta join us – in fact, Ah insist." She circled around Fluttershy and gently herded the shy pegasus forward toward the farmhouse. Big Mac and Gilda trailed along after her, sizing each other up. The farm stallion was about as tall and just as broad as a full-grown buck gryphon; Gilda wasn't used to looking up at ponies, but there was a first time for everything, apparently. They walked along in silence, each keeping an eye on the cajoling, stammering pair of ponies ahead of them. "So… Big Mac," Gilda said, after a minute or two. Mac looked over at her. The stalk of wheat in his mouth bobbed up and down a bit as he chewed idly on the end. "Eyup." "Can't imagine why," Gilda said. "Nope." And that was the end of that conversation. In short order, the unusual party reached the farmhouse. It combined the fancy architecture most ponies seemed fond of with the basic design of pretty much every barn Gilda had ever seen, but somehow, the end result looked surprisingly comfortable. Applejack, still herding a softly protesting Fluttershy, led the group in through a side door, which opened into a house addition built into the side of the main barn. Gilda looked around as she stepped into what looked to be the kitchen; it was a long, fairly narrow room, with a pumped sink and a gas stove in one corner, just under an open window looking picturesquely out onto the orchard. An old, solid applewood table standing in the middle of the room looked like it had not just history, but History. The exposed boards of the walls were painted white, and pictures of varicolored ponies, all with various apple-related cutie marks, were hung absolutely everywhere. "Sorry, we don't actually have any apples right now," Applejack said, using a floor pump to run water from the sink over her head. "They ain't just ripe yet, y'see. But we got plenty of other tasty stuff to feed you with, so don't you worry none." Shaking drops of water from her mane, she set six plates onto the table, then went digging into the unexpectedly modern refrigerator. "Lessee here… oh, we got plenty a'those… Macintosh, you stop lettin' Applebloom sneak pansies from in here, y'hear? Ah know yer in on it." Mac deliberately avoided looking at his sister as Applejack doled out the food – sprouts in a sweet-smelling dressing for the ponies, and more bread for Gilda after a short exchange. "Hey, Applebloom! Granny Smith! Soup's up!" Applejack called out, sitting down at the table. As she tucked in, a little yellow filly trotted into the room. She had an enormous bow in her hair, and she wore a look of consternation that seemed mature for her young age. "Sis, Ah'm not hungry," she complained, circling the table to stand between her siblings. "Ah dunno what it is – maybe Ah had too much alfalfa at dinner last night an' that's why Ah'm not feelin' good." She looked across the table and brightened. "Hi, Fluttershy! Ah di'nt know you were comin' fer lunch! Ah wouldn'ta eaten so… many… pa…" She trailed off as she noticed the gryphon sitting next to Fluttershy, and her eyes widened. "Oh, hello, Applebloom," Fluttershy said, smiling gently at the little girl. "This is my friend Gilda. She's a gryphon." Applebloom didn't say anything; she barely blinked. Fluttershy's smiled faltered a bit. "A-Applebloom…?" Gilda set her bread down and leaned across the table. "What's the matter, kid? Got something to say?" "Whoa now," Applejack said warningly, half-standing, but before she could get between her sister and Gilda, Applebloom practically hopped around the table to stand next to the gryphon. Her eyes were shining brightly, and a silly grin had spread across her face. "You look so awesome," the filly enthused, almost bouncing up and down in her excitement. "Ah've never met a griffin before." She sat down next to Gilda, putting her hooves up on the table near Gilda's plate. "Where're you from? Are there a lot of griffins there? What kinda place is it?" She glanced down at Gilda's legs, then swallowed before continuing. "…Do griffins get cutie marks, too?" "Uh," Gilda said, taken aback by the verbal flood. She blinked at the filly, who still hadn't blinked yet and who was starting to invade her personal space. "Applebloom," Applejack said firmly. "Hooves offa the table, first of all. Secondly, Gilda's our guest. Quit badgerin' her with all yer questions, an' come an' eat yer sprouts." She sat back down as Applebloom pouted, not wanting to move. Out of the corner of her eye, Gilda saw Big Mac relax, too – again, not a big motion… but one that left her feeling very glad she hadn't actually intended any harm to the filly. "Can't Ah just eat over here with Miss Gilda?" Applebloom asked plaintively. She hopped down from the bench and retrieved her plate before her sister could object, and settled in happily next to Gilda, who still wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation. "Ah guess so," Applejack replied, giving in after a moment. She turned to Fluttershy, who was taking little nibbles of her food. "Sorry fer yankin' you two in here, Fluttershy," she said. "Y'didn't really catch us at our best time – that storm a coupla days ago took down a buncha branches all over the place, an' Mac an' I have been workin' our flanks off gettin' 'em taken care of since then. Two whole days o' work, an' it's shapin' up ta be another full day again today." She sighed, letting her chin rest on the table for a moment. "Ah ain't been so sore since… well, prob'ly since Applebuck Season last year…" She blushed, embarrassed at the memory. "That's when we kick all the apples offa the trees," Applebloom explained, smiling up at Gilda. "Ah can't do it yet, but Sis an' Big Mac can clear a whole tree with one kick!" She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Mac hasta use one leg, though. Ah think last time he tried it with two legs, he kicked the whole tree clean in half…" "Eyup," Mac replied, somewhat shortly. He took a bite of salad, obviously not enjoying the turn the conversation had taken. "Well, you'll be able ta help out this year, Ah think," he said, after a minute. "Yer gettin' big enough." Applebloom cheered. "Didja hear that, Fluttershy? Ah get ta help next year!" Fluttershy smiled at the filly. "That's very good, Applebloom. I'm happy for you." Applejack nodded. "Help, Applebloom," she said, emphasizing the verb. "Ah might set ya one or two trees ta buck, fer practice. Yer still too little ta go up a row." "Aw," Applebloom said, dejected. She finally started nibbling at her food, looking rather sullen. "If you don't like being weak, then get stronger," Gilda said offhandedly. "Never give up and never back down, and never stop making yourself better than you are. There's a gryphon culture lesson for you, kid." She glanced at Applejack, who was frowning at her. "What?" "Oh, nothin', really," the farm mare replied, shaking her head. "Jus' sounded a bit like somethin' my daddy used ta say to me, that's all. Dontcha think, Mac?" The big, quiet stallion nodded, and when the older Apple siblings looked back at her, Gilda saw a small bit of respect in their eyes. Lunch went much more smoothly after that. Applebloom never quite stopped asking questions of Gilda, but Applejack used her experience with her little sister's thought process to keep her focused on her adventures with her fellow Cutie Mark Crusaders for the most part. Gilda found herself warming up to the siblings, which was a strange, but not altogether unwelcome, feeling. It felt like the night with Fluttershy had felt – just sitting around and talking, not even about anything that had a point. Just enjoying being around people… it had been a long, long time since she'd done that. "-an' you shoulda seen the look on his face when he put the durn thing on! It was just, oh, Ah can't even say," Applejack said, laughing. Mac had turned redder than Gilda would have thought possible under his hair; he buried his face in his sprouts, very noticeably not looking at Fluttershy. Applejack recovered, then looked around, suddenly remembering something. "Speakin' of who, how come Granny Smith ain't here yet? Applebloom, was she sleepin' when Ah called fer lunch?" "Yup," Applebloom replied, looking up. She had finished a while ago and was now inspecting Gilda's tail; the gryphon was amusing herself playing keep-away with the filly. "Ah woke her up an' told her, but she jus' went right back ta sleep. Should Ah go – oh, hiya, Granny! You got good timing!" She and waved at her grandmother as the elderly pony finally tottered into the kitchen. Granny Smith squinted at Applebloom. "Mm, 'morning, hmbloom," she replied, taking a few shaky steps into the room. Gilda looked over her shoulder at the old pony, and her tail twitched in excitement. The Apple clan had dined at the royal table as honored warriors before even the spectre of the Nightmare Eclipse had appeared on the horizon; they had stood against Discord in the Chaos Times, eons before the start of recorded history. Though it had been over a thousand years since the last time a clan matriarch had stormed into battle, Edith Smith had been raised, and had raised her children and grandchildren, on the tales of their heroism. She was getting old, true, but she could recognize a rattlesnake when she saw one – and she knew immediately what she had to do. "Applebloom!" the old mare yelped. Rushing forward as fast as her old frame could manage, she planted herself between Applebloom and Gilda's tail, squaring off with the imaginary serpent. "Applejack, Macintosh, git yer sister outta here," she hissed. "Ah'll keep its attention." She squinted harder at the offending appendage. "Oh yeah, Ah remember you," she snarled with a nod. "Yer ugly even fer a rattler, mm… this time y'won't get me so easy." "Yeah, about that," Gilda began, having the grace to look abashed. She turned around, the motion pulling her tail within Granny Smith's very limited range. "Look, old lady, I-" Before she could finish the sentence, the old pony stomped down hard on the tuft at the end of Gilda's tail, eliciting a roar of pain from the gryphon. Gilda leapt forward, knocking over several benches and nearly bowling Fluttershy to the ground, then spun to face her assailant. "You crazy old witch," she bellowed. "That hurt!" With Gilda's tail hidden behind the rest of her, Granny Smith began to lose focus again. "Hm? Wha's goin' on?" she asked, looking around. "Applebloom?" Big Mac and Applebloom stepped to her side and nuzzled her, and soon the old pony had calmed down. Applejack joined her siblings over by Granny Smith, then turned a glare on Gilda. "Rattlesnake? She remembers you? You wanna explain what that was all about, Gilda?" she asked, the tone of her voice making it very clear that the gryphon didn't have many other options. "Yer our guest, and Ah was startin' ta think of you as a friend… but it seems you ain't been entirely honest with us. Now." She took a deliberate step toward Gilda. "What's goin' on?" Gilda, stroking the end of her tail, started to reply hotly, then she looked over at Fluttershy. The little yellow pegasus was rooted to the spot, wings out, and she looked almost in tears. Rubbing her temples with a hand, Gilda sighed, struggling to keep her annoyance under control. "Last time I was here, I played a prank on your grandmother," she said, after a long moment. "Tricked her into thinking my tail was a snake. I didn't think it would work this well. But I-" "Wh, snake?" Granny Smith asked, perking up at the word. She looked around wildly, searching, and Mac gently led her from the room. Applejack watched her go, concern clear on her face, and Gilda almost flinched when the farm mare turned her glare back at the gryphon. Various emotions waged war under the surface of that glare – distrust, anger, and betrayal among them. "Ah can't believe you," Applejack said quietly. "Bad enough you did that before, but then you come back an' make it worse? Granny's old!" she said, voice starting to rise in volume. "What if she'd hurt herself? She still might! An' if she does-" Applejack's voice broke, and she swallowed. "If you just came here to do harm ta mah family, then Ah want you gone," she continued quietly. "Get out, an' never come back ta Sweet Apple Acres. Apple clan don't ferget their friends – or their enemies." "I came here to apologize," Gilda barked, hackles rising. The sincerity in Applejack's voice unsettled her – the bronze mare wasn't making threats, she was simply stating a fact. "Seriously! Ask Fluttershy." She looked over at her friend. "S-she really is trying…" Fluttershy said quietly, hiding behind her mane. "Way to sell it, Fluttershy," Gilda muttered. She pulled at her tail again, stroking the still-sensitive tip as she spoke. "Look, I'm serious here. It's not my fault she's got bad eyes, is it?" "Ah don't believe you," Applejack said again, straightening up out of her ready stance. "Yer a liar and a bully, Gilda, an' nothin' more. You don't understand the difference between sayin' sorry an' bein' sorry, an' you never will." "Sis!" Applebloom said suddenly, speaking up for the first time since the incident. She took a few steps toward Gilda, then turned back to face Applejack. "Ah think she's tellin' the truth." She looked over her shoulder at Gilda. "Ah know we just met her an' all, but Ah don't think she's a bad person. Can't we give her a chance, Sis? Please?" She turned the full power of her wide eyes onto her sister. Applejack rallied heroically, but she stood no chance at all. "Fine," she said, pressing her lips into a thin line. She turned back to Gilda. "Ah'll give you one chance ta prove yer sorry fer what you did – all of what you did." "And how the hell am I supposed to do that?" Gilda snapped, letting her tail go. It lashed back and forth, a visual reflection of her agitation. "Anything I say is obviously a lie, right? So what do you want me to do, write you a damn song?" "Watch yer mouth around my sister," Applejack warned her. "How's this sound? Ah'm goin' back outside ta clear up more branches. There's another cart in the barn. If yer serious about this, go get it an' come on out. Last through the rest o' the day at mah pace, and Ah'll hear you out. Sound fair?" "Oh, Applejack, no," Fluttershy cried. She fidgeted in place, stomping her hooves up and down. "Gilda's badly hurt! She can't do anything that strenuous for at least another-" She interrupted herself with a squeak as Gilda let out an annoyed growl and stepped past her. "Deal," the gryphon said, grabbing Applejack's hoof. The two shook once, a determined, powerful motion, and then Applejack let go and turned away. She headed out for the fields, stopping to right the benches as she went. Gilda sighed, rolling her shoulders out; she winced as her bandages pulled, but completed the motion. She turned to Applebloom. "Hey, kid, show me where this cart is, will ya?" "Sure, Miss Gilda," Applebloom said, looking troubled. "Ah don't understand why Sis is doin' this, though… it ain't like her t'be so mean, 'specially when Ah know you din't really mean t'scare Granny Smith." Her head drooped a little. "An' Ah don't want her t'treat you like a bad person, either… 'cause then Ah can't talk with you anymore…" She turned away and started for the door. Gilda blinked twice, then shook her head briskly; she followed after the little filly, with Fluttershy trailing behind. "Here y'go," Applebloom said, nosing open the barn door. A medium-sized cart was just visible in the light spilling into the hay-dusted darkness; Gilda grinned predatorily as she spied it. "See you in a few hours, Fluttershy," she said, pushing the doors open all the way and heading into the barn. Fluttershy whimpered in response, and Gilda paused by the cart. "Oh, come on. I'll be fine," the gryphon said, beginning to smirk despite herself at the pegasus's watering eyes and worried expression. She bent under the cart's yoke, spent a few moments making sure the crossbar wouldn't rest on her wings, then stood tall with a quiet grunt. "You just… stay here with the kid and cheer me on, or whatever it is you do." With that, she started forward, turning left out the door to head for the south orchards, where Applejack was getting herself situated. Fluttershy wasn't quite trembling, but she was visibly agitated; she seemed to be fighting against her wings' extension, to little effect, and she scuffled her hooves in the dirt as Gilda drew away. Several times, she opened her mouth to say something… but then she paused for a moment. "Gilda, wait," she called, taking a step after the gryphon. Gilda didn't turn around, but she did stop walking. Fluttershy drew a deep breath and straightened up, folding her wings with a calm, deliberate motion. After a long moment, she opened her eyes and let her breath out. "Do your best," she said clearly. Gilda gave a sharp nod and started on her way to the orchards again. Fluttershy and Applebloom watched her go, then the little filly turned back to her pegasus friend. "Ah think there might still be some pansies left in the fridge if ya want some," she offered tentatively. Fluttershy smiled at the girl's transparent attempt to lift her spirits. "That sounds lovely," she beamed, nuzzling Applebloom, and they headed back into the house. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "So?" Gilda asked, a little tightly, as she came up beside Applejack and set her cart down with a grunt. The orange farm mare had crested the hill with ease; she let Gilda's slightly slower ascent pass without comment, which was somehow more annoying than anything else. "We're picking up little sticks and that's it?" Granted, there were a lot of them scattered around; the apple trees in this part of the orchards were pretty big and sturdy, and some of the branches Gilda could see lying around weren't exactly little sticks either, but it still seemed like a fairly simple task. Not even you can screw this one up. Gilda snorted and reached for the nearest log, a shortish branch about as wide as a pony's leg. As her claws closed around it, though, Applejack stepped firmly down onto it, holding the wood down into the springy soil. "Why are you really here, Gilda?" she asked plainly, looking up at the gryphon. Her eyes were rich green, and they were absolutely unreadable. "Ah mean really." "We've been through this," Gilda replied, a little annoyed. She tugged on the branch; Applejack didn't move at all, but Gilda fetched up against a brick wall. "Oh, I see," she continued, giving it another tug to identical results. "You don't –erg – believe me, so you – rgh! – get me out here where your sister can't speak up." She paused for a moment. "What the hell are you made of?" "Ah don't want you startin' if yer not gonna be truthful about this," Applejack replied levelly, not relinquishing her stance. "Y've given me power over you, an' that's a mighty trustin' thing t'give ta someone who not ten minutes ago was ready t'run you off the farm." She took a breath and looked back to Gilda, her expression hardening. "That's why Ah'm givin' you this chance t'back out. You leave now, and Ah won't fault ya fer bein' honest." Gilda stared at Applejack for a few moments, then slowly, she tightened her grip on the branch and lifted it, waiting for the iron resistance to kick in. Instead, Applejack watched her for a long, tense moment… and then she stepped backward, surprising the gryphon and causing her to jerk the branch upward. The mare's gaze was steady, and she didn't blink as she indicated Gilda's cart with a flick of her head. "W-what?" Gilda snapped, frowning. Though the expression couldn't be more different, Applejack's eyes reminded her unpleasantly of Fluttershy – and wasn't that a lovely memory, the little yellow pegasus smashing right through all the walls Gilda had constructed around her heart with a single painfully innocent question. Three days ago, she'd never have put up with it. Three days ago, she'd have pushed the pony aside and gone home. Except three days ago, she hadn't had a home, had she? Three days ago, she'd been clinging to a scraggly mountain pine near Canterlot, navigating toward Ponyville on year-old memories, desperate hopes and the lights she could see through the gloom and the driving rain. Three days ago, she'd had no friends. A lot had changed in three days. You're not a bad person, Gilda. I'm sure of it. Gilda jerked in surprise. That was new, for instance. "I mean… what?" she replied, more softly. She managed to avoid grinding her beak. This was hard. Applejack shook her head, stepping back to her cart. "Nothin'," she said shortly. "Let's get t'work, huh? Don't bother with the little ones, we'll rake those later." She ducked under her yoke and pulled her cart away, giving Gilda some space to work. The gryphon watched her go, bemused, then shrugged and turned to pick up another branch. Ponies. Who the hell knew what they were ever thinking? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Fluttershy looked up as Mac came back into the kitchen; he set the lantern carefully back onto its iron peg by the door, blowing out the wick with a single strong puff. He settled down at the table with a quiet sigh, casting Fluttershy a quick glance over plates still bearing the remnants of dinner. She looked back at him, a slight frown of concern on her face, and he looked down at his hooves. "They're still goin' at it," he said after a few minutes of silence. "Oh, Gilda," Fluttershy murmured, resting her head on her hooves. She looked over at the other door; Applebloom had been sent to bed nearly an hour ago, protesting through her yawns, and Granny Smith's tremulous snoring was just barely audible from her room by the stairs. "I shouldn't have let her go out there…" "If y'want my thinkin' on it, Miss Fluttershy…" Mac said quietly, his voice rumbling through his chest and down into the bench; Fluttershy could feel it in her hooves. "Maybe t'weren't right, what mah sis set her t'do. Maybe t'weren't even. Ah won't speak ta that matter." He didn't look up, but Fluttershy felt her eyes start to prickle as she remembered the frightening standoff. She'd never seen Applejack so angry and scared before, and with Gilda shouting back… she sniffed, and Mac looked over. "Ah don't mean ta upset ya, Miss," he said carefully. "But this is somethin' they've gotta work out for themselves. Neither mah sis nor Gilda is gonna back down now, not after they got each other riled up like that." He shook his head, sighing. "At least the brush is gettin' cleared." "I'm just worried," Fluttershy said quietly. "Gilda's trying so hard, she really is, but she's got such a long way to go still… and she's so sure that Rainbow Dash will just take her back, but I just don't know… Rainbow Dash is a lovely pony, but she can be so stubborn sometimes… and I'm worried that she won't be forgiven, and if that happens …" she sniffed, tears starting to track down her cheeks. "She'll never open up to anypony ever again, and she'll be left all alone…" She jerked upright. "Oh! Oh no, I didn't mean to… I mean, I shouldn't have…" She sniffed again, rubbing her face. "I shouldn't have said anything… um, please… please forget what I just said…" "Didn't hear a thing, Miss," Mac replied, shaking his head. He stood up slowly, stretching out the huge, solid bands of muscle in his legs, and crossed to the counter. Taking the basket of napkins in his teeth, he brought them over to the table and set them within Fluttershy's reach. She shook her head gratefully, taking the opportunity to regain a bit of her composure while Mac picked up the stack of dirty dishes. Taking them over to the sink, he set the plates into a washing rack and began to work the hoof pump. "Miss Fluttershy," he said, after a moment. "Not havin' heard anything, mind, an' forgive me fer speakin' without knowin' the whole story…" He paused, and the only sounds were the squeaking of the hoof pump and the quiet splashing of water. "T'occurs ta me that Gilda couldn'ta found a better pony fer the job." He cleared his throat. "Yer, ah… yer the kindest an' the gentlest soul Ah know… an' if anypony can help her, it's you." Fluttershy felt her cheeks heat, and she looked away at the unfamiliar little jump in her chest. "Um, that… that's very kind of you to say, Mr. Macintosh. Th-thank you." Mac's attention was fixed on the dishes, which were long since washed. "Miss… if'n you'd like… Ah'd be just fine with just 'Mac'." "Oh, my," Fluttershy squeaked, the burn intensifying. "Th-then… maybe, if you like… you can just call me… Fluttershy…" she kicked a hoof against the floorboards, looking anywhere but at Mac. "That might be… nice…" There was a long moment of silence. "Maybe I should go check on Gilda-" "Ah should go check on Granny Smith-" Mac began at the same time. Both ponies moved toward the doors, then stopped, embarrassed. "Sorry," Mac said, chuckling. "It's just-" There was a sudden bright burst of lightning through the window, followed almost immediately by a deafening crash of thunder. Fluttershy screamed and fled under the table; even Mac started. The tearing sound reverberated for full seconds, shaking the barn on its foundations, and the lantern rattled wildly against the doorframe. "Are y'all right, Mi… Ah mean… Fluttershy?" Mac asked as the noise faded, peeking under the table. "You sure can move fast when y'want to." Fluttershy nodded shakily, slowly coming out from under the sturdy piece of furniture. "Ah didn't think there was s'posedta be a storm today…" he said, frowning out the window. The wind had picked up, and shingles clattered on the roof. The darkness had been gathering slowly in the sweet summer twilight, but now dark clouds blotted out even the last remnants of the sunset. "Well, that tears it," Mac said, with a quiet note of something very near relief in his voice. "Not even Applejack can argue fer brushin' in this." He crossed the kitchen in a few steps, stopping by the door. "Ah'll go round 'em up." He leaned forward and nosed the lantern's switch; light bathed the room as the clever little mechanism inside the device lit the wick, and he took the ring in his teeth. "Um… if you're okay with it, I mean… I'd like to come with you," Fluttershy said quietly, joining him by the door. "Y'sure? Don't feel right askin' ya t'come out in the dark an' the rain," Mac said doubtfully. Fluttershy nodded once, slowly, then again, with more force. "No, I want to come," she said, stepping into the mudroom. In the far wall, the outside door rattled and shook with the wind; she shrank back at a particularly loud clatter, and Mac stepped forward to put a hoof against the door. "Lantern ain't got that much lightin' power, so be sure t'stick close by me," Mac warned. "Ah'll keep you grounded if y'start blowin' away, too." He pushed, and the door swung out into the sweeping darkness. "I know," Fluttershy said quietly, blushing again. Taking a deep breath, she looked to Mac and nodded, and they stepped through the door together. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As Macintosh and Fluttershy left the house, another huge bolt of lightning tore through the air, bringing with it the first heavy curtains of rain. Out in the fields, Applejack and Gilda braced themselves against the wind. They had reached the end of the row together by chance, and the carts, mostly full, shook as the wind caught at the leafy branches. "You've got to be kidding me," Gilda spat, glaring up at the clouds. "Another storm?" She groaned, rearing up to toss a branch into her cart. "Your weather team sucks…" Part of her was glad for the rain; her back was starting to protest, and she could see, even from ground level, that the incoming storm would be a doozy. She stomped savagely on the relief she felt, and grabbed another branch just to spite it. She threw up her wing to try to keep the rain off; it didn't help much. "Ah guess that's it – we can't brush in this," Applejack said. She turned to Gilda, giving her a tired smile. "Yer done. Congratulations," she said, stretching mightily and cracking her neck. "Why don't ya head on in? Ah'll finish up here an' come right after ya." She turned back and headed for her cart yoke, then stepped back as Gilda grabbed a branch near her feet. "Uh, d'you hear me right?" "Yeah," Gilda said shortly. "Nice try. I didn't forget the terms – I'm going back when you do, and not a second before." There were a few seconds of silence, and Gilda fidgeted under Applejack's unreadable expression. "I'm no welcher. I finish what I start," she said, frowning. For better or for worse, the voice reminded her nastily. Applejack paused for a moment, surprised, then she started to chuckle. Gilda's hackles rose immediately, but she clamped down on the reaction. "Ah guess Ah figured you right," the farm mare said, nodding. Droplets of water flew from the brim of her hat, and she gave a tired, but satisfied, sigh as the laughter worked its way out of her system. "Ah gotta apologize, Gilda," she said after a moment. "Truth is… Ah knew you were tellin' the truth when we started. Ah wouldn'ta let you pick up that branch otherwise." She scratched behind her ear with a hoof. "The challenge was a dumb idea, but Ah know what pride is like. Y'woulda agreed to anythin' I asked ya t'do in front o' that many folks, wouldn't ya? So I wanted t'ask you again by yer lonesome, t'see how you really felt about it." Gilda stared at her in disbelief. "Wait," she said, having a hard time processing it. "Wait, wait, wait. You figured I was telling the truth and you still made me spend seven hours picking up sticks?" Applejack took a breath, and Gilda was surprised to see her look to the side, somewhat embarrassed. "Ah've been thinkin', an' maybe that wasn't right o'me. I believe now that y'really didn't mean any harm, this time around at least, an' this is all just a misunderstandin'." She looked back at Gilda, and the gryphon was astounded to see a sly smile on her face. "But y'wouldn't'a backed out anyway, would ya?" Gilda stared at her, then looked back at the nearly full cart at her side. It was satisfyingly weighted, just the right amount to force her to use her strength but not heavy enough to tire her quickly. Her muscles felt warm and loose; she swiveled her shoulders experimentally, not missing the tightness that had plagued them the past few days cooped up in Fluttershy's tiny little house. Looking back at where they'd been, there was noticeable progress (current storm notwithstanding). It wasn't flying, but it was doing something. She'd missed that. "No, I wouldn't have," Gilda grudgingly replied. Applejack chuckled again, and despite herself, after a moment Gilda did too. "That's still a bitch move, though," she said lightly, stepping under her yoke as Applejack did the same. "Like Ah said, I feel a bit bad about it," Applejack admitted, starting back toward the farmhouse with a grunt. "But hey, Mac'll thank ya fer doin' most of his share of the work fer today. An' Ah'll thank ya, too. Y'did us a good amount of help." "Yeah, whatever," Gilda replied long-sufferingly. "Don't get too used to it, huh?" "Ah won't," Applejack laughed. She perked up as she reached the top of a small hill, looking off into the distance toward the farmhouse. "Oh, wouldja look at that. We got guests." "Gilda!" Gilda followed Applejack's gaze as Fluttershy's voice cut through the rain. The little yellow pegasus came into view over the hill, somehow looking even smaller with her mane and tail already soaked through; she had her slightly bedraggled wings pressed against her body for warmth. Macintosh was with her, a lantern clasped in his teeth, looking none the worse for wear. "Applejack! Oh, we've just been looking all over for you," she called. Now that she had spotted the gryphon and earth pony, her voice was returning to its normal volume, and Gilda had to strain to hear her. "Why are you even out here?" Gilda called, setting the cart back down. Another bolt of lightning split the sky as the newcomers reached the foot of the hill; Gilda swore in surprise, and Fluttershy locked up and fell over. By the time the thunder had faded from the hills, Mac had helped her back to her hooves. The slightly muddy pegasus blushed furiously as Macintosh lent her his side for support, and Gilda rolled her eyes. "Thought we'd come an' check on ya," Mac said, looking up at his sister. "Though Ah take it y'got things worked out on yer own?" Fluttershy didn't miss the glance that passed between the siblings. "Yeah, everythin's all set here," Applejack replied, smiling. She turned to look at Gilda. "We'll put the two of ya up fer the night," she said. "Ain't gonna make you walk home in…" She broke off, frowning. "Hey…" The sky tore open in a fit of rage, hammering the farm with pure sound as bolt after bolt struck at the orchards. Scenes flashed in front of Gilda's eyes like photographs, highlighted by the white brilliance of lightning: Applejack's wide eyes. The cart, slightly unbalanced, catching the incline and gaining speed. The slope of the hill. Fluttershy at the bottom… There was a meaty thud. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Forgive me for the cliffhanger, eh? You can thank Determamfidd and his wonderful It Takes A Village for the inclusion of FlutterMac - it's always been a favorite pairing of mine, but his portrayal of the relationship inspired me. So, consider that yet another tribute to a fic that's shaped my fanon extensively! As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. Don't like something? Let me know why!