Nightly musing

by SomeGenericPonyNameHere


Fiddler with no hoof

Tired. Dead tired. That's what she was.

More like fatigued actually. It was a long and back-breaking day but one that was rewarded in kind. Sales were plentiful and demands were met. Aside from hardships that were part and parcel to a farmer's work the days events went by without a hitch.

So what then was keeping the farmer up in the wee hours of the night?

She was tired, spent and exhausted. Surely sleep would've granted her some reprieve from her protesting muscles. Sad to say, sleep was elusive tonight. And the throbbing ache in her hands didn't help either.

Pulling her hands out from under the covers Applejack inspected the bandage wrappings over her knuckles and wrists. Whenever she became so engrossed in her work she tended to forget that her hands, though strong and solid as they were, were not invincible.

Becoming too passionate, she split the knuckles in her right hand and her left was red raw from being scraped mercilessly against bark. And those were just some of the pains that were visible. Her wrists ached terribly from overuse, and all the muscles in her arms were barking worse then Timberwolves on a hunt.

With a heavy sigh Applejack gave up on sleep and rose from her bed. Careful not to disturb the rest of the household she quietly went out of the house, grabbing her Stetson hat from the rack and wondered around the farm.

Clad in nothing more then a white tank and torn denim slacks she meandered around the barn with no real purpose in her strides. Although barefoot the ground did little to effect her. She welcomed the cool contact of the grass, feeling the tension in her muscles lessen slightly.

The night was cool and crisp, with the moon hanging high overhead and shining brilliantly. A slight gust of wind whispered by and cooled her, making her loose blonde tresses lift slightly with its caress only to fall again. She let out an appreciative sigh and propped herself against the closed doors of the barn. She craned her neck skyward to watch the clouds sail lazily by the moon. It was enough to ease her mind somewhat but her body was still being too stubborn to relent to sleep.

"Applejack?"

The sudden sound of a hushed voice calling out her name made the farmer turn her head in surprise. In a start her emerald eyes landed on the pale frame of her friend Rarity, who was a mere 6 feet away from her and meeting her eyes as well. She was wearing a white overcoat with a pair of navy blue high heel ankle sandals, holding up a small parasol with an Asian motif strewn over its canopy. Her long wavy curls danced as another wind gently ghosted by.

"Rarity?! What in the sam hill are you doin' out so late?"

Applejack rose up from where she was leaning, quick to jam her hands into her pockets and approached the young woman, both meeting halfway. Upon closer inspection Applejack could see the weariness on her friends lovely features. It wasn't unusual really. If her orders were piling up or if she had to reinvent a piece for a picky client She'd pull all-nighters and work double-time.

"I was out for a stroll, darling. I felt restless and couldn't keep a wink of sleep. I've been cooped up in the boutique and was becoming...what's the phrase? Something involving a cabin? Anyway, I just had to rejuvenate myself somehow and here I 'am."

The farmer nodded her head slowly but her eyes were still skeptical.

"Alright. Ah get where yer comin' from. But why mosey on over to Apple acres? Surely you'd be lookin' out for your well-did nails and spruced up hair."

Rarity let out a pouty huff as Applejack chuckled knowingly.

"If you must know, I happen to frequent here when I 'am unable to sleep or am unable to keep up my concentration."

Rarity turned her attention to the vast expanse of the farmland, her eyes vacant but focused as if she were weighing her words. Applejack eased her stance and listened with a patient ear to what her friend had to say.

"As rugged as the farm may be, even I myself have to admire its rustic beauty. It's so wide out here, so open. Just seeing the rolling hills of tilled earth is enough to give me pause. Its beautiful to gaze upon, more so when the light of the moon shines down over the land."

Rarity had her beat there. Often times when Applejack was stumped with something or work was too aggravating to focus on she'd walk through the long stretches of corn stalks herself, just letting her hand brush over their stems as she let her mind wander.

"Well, when you put it that way Ah guess ah can understand."

She tipped her hat a little and turned to look out at the farm with her pale skinned friend. The two were now standing side by side, walking up to the white fencing and leaning against it. Their differences in height notwithstanding, each enjoyed the others company despite the many clashes.

"And why, prey tell, are you out so late, dear?"

Applejack gave her friend a side-long glance let out a tired breath. The woman beside her waited patiently for her reply as she noted the moonlight lining her toned and tanned frame.

"Ah guess Ah overdid it again with gatherin' apples."

She brought up her hands from her pockets and opened her right hand, wincing slightly as she flexed her digits. The fabric was dirtied with sweat stains and dried blood. Though this was nothing new to Rarity it never failed to make her let out a horrified gasp. The woman had man hands, sure, but seeing them swollen and red was simply painful to see.

"Oh! My goodness, Applejack! Why must you insist on being so reckless?!"

She merely shrugged and pulled her hands back into her pockets, not paying attention to the stern yet pained look on her friends face.

"Ah was on a roll today. Ah finished the entire northern orchard before lunchtime and rounded up the barrels of remaining cider to put out for sale at the market. Ah was so caught up that I uh, forgot to tone it down a little."

As she spoke Applejack jerked her chin upward to push her Stetson back up onto her head a little. To others it would look like she was just adjusting her hat, but the fashionista knew otherwise. It was one of her "tells", a little gesture she would do that indicated she was having a hard time admitting to something. Rarity swallowed down a giggle.

"Ah guess Ah'm payin' for it now. Everything is so dadgum sore that ah just couldn't fall asleep. Ah got dogs barkin' on mah dogs!"

To that Rarity allowed a throaty giggle to escape. It was something the farmer did when the atmosphere seemed too heavy; she'd make a playful jibe either at herself or the situation, granted it was in good taste, to lighten the mood or to lift spirits. Seeing that it worked on Rarity she let a small smile spread on her face.

"It seems we are both cursed for the night, darling. Had we some music or something of the like it would add to this beautiful distraction we call Apple acres."

"Hmm....music, huh?"

"Applejack?"

"Ah'll be right back, sugarcube."

With purpose on her strides Applejack disappeared into the big red barn. Rarity looked on curiously as she waited for her friend to return, giggling again as she heard the yelp of the family pet and Applejack letting out a breathless "Sorry, Winona!" as she emerged from the barn.

In her hand was a leather cover case in the shape of a violin. She also managed to get a wheat stalk and held it casually between her teeth.

"It ain't no orchestra but its somethin'."

"Oh, my! I didn't realize you play the violin, darling." Rarity exclaimed as she observed Applejack opening the case.

Inside was a plain violin, with its crafted wood surface scuffed and chipped from years of use. Applejack was careful to take it out of its protective case, handling it with great care.

"Heh heh. Haven't played this thing since the family reunion. I brought it out when we had the party for the wedding of Princess Cadence and Shining armor. Hope I remember how to work this thing."

Applejack removed her Stetson and placed it on the fence post.

The farmer brought the instrument up into the light of the moon so as to appraise it. She tested the integrity of the strings by plucking them experimentally, nodding in approval as they produced a strong note without snapping instantaneously.

She raised it up to properly rest it against her chin and shoulder and instinctively took a stance, steadying the bow in an attempt to get her bearings. Rarity watched with rapt attentiveness as Applejack strummed a few chords, trying to recall from memory an old medley a cousin used to play for get-togethers.

Applejack absentmindedly rolled the wheat stalk in her mouth, moving it with her tongue and biting down as she tested the strings. After a few false starts the farmer found the tune she was looking for.

She strummed the strings deftly, producing an airy tune that was lilting with a rustic charm that drew the fashionista in. Rarity brought herself up to sit on the fence, never letting her eyes leave the musician.

The merry sounding song bled out into the night, casting an ephemeral glow as Applejack played on. As she played Applejack began to move about. Swaying gently at first but as the song picked up in pace she started moving in bounds. Her fingers, once improvising and fumbling over each other, now moved expertly as her memory came back a hundred-fold. By the time the song was reaching its changing point she was skipping about as if doing a one-woman performance, jumping to and fro as her audience watched.

The tune changed after a time, becoming sportingly daring as if to say "keep up if you think you can". It was here that Applejack caught Rarity's eyes and grinned toothily, still holding the wheat expertly in her teeth. Rarity began to clap in time with her jaunty tune as Applejack picked up the pace again.

Though her hands were still aching and every muscle was screaming in protest Applejack was too engulfed in her music and memories to care. She completely ignored the pain and powered on through, smiling as Rarity followed along with her tune. The weariness that was once on her features had melted away as the music of the farmers fiddle flooded her ears and raised her spirits!

The song was reaching its end, this the farmer knew. So she twirled around her captive audience in a cocky display as she executed the final notes, ending with her hand holding the bow in the air proudly.

She was breathing heavily as if she did fifteen laps around the entire expanse of Apple land. Her face was sweating, with thin tendrils of hair sticking to her forehead.

Rarity was applauding for all she was worth, completely floored by her friends nearly flawless musical tapestry for the ears. Applejack bowed humbly and put the violin back in its case.

"Applejack! I had no idea you could play so well! Darling, you must perform again for our friends!"

The farmer nodded slowly at her friends request.

"Sure thing, sugarcube. But you think that could happen after a good ol' cat nap?"

With that same, albeit drowsy, smug grin Applejack pointed over her shoulder with her thumb, making Rarity turn and see the sun coming up over the horizon. She chuckled breathily as she grasped the point. With a cheeky smile of her own the fashionista took the Stetson from its resting place on the post and placed it back onto its rightful place atop Applejacks' head.

"I'll hold you to that, darling."