//------------------------------// // Part 3 // Story: Long Division // by Hoofclid //------------------------------// Braeburn retreated to his seat defeated. Even the offer of apple muffins hadn't convinced the engineer to make his infernal machine go any faster. Brae missed the old days, before Twilight Sparkle had pointed out that the engine was supposed to pull the train. When there were stallions pulling both engine and train, it was much easier to bribe them to get him to Ponyville faster. Oh well. At least his muffins were drawing enthusiastic sniffs and looks from the nearby ponies. Someone would get to enjoy them. Distributing the muffins around the passengers did not take long: hungry travellers swarming around you makes a basket of baked goods deplete quickly. Indeed, Brae only preserved with difficulty the special double-sized muffin he had baked to share with his unicorn. He carefully covered the basket with his hat to hide it from view and settled down to nap. The view from the train had long since lost its novelty. Fortunately he had taken this nap often enough that his brain knew when to wake up. He'd be in Ponyville in no time. Waking up because your stop is approaching can be a bit of a rush. Having to defend your remaining muffin from the attention of a gray pegasus who sneaked near while you slept raises your heart rate further. This is not the state you want to be in when you leap onto a platform which turns out to be booby trapped. A blast of confetti left Braeburn hatless as a pink whirlwind zipped around him. Somehow the whirlwind seemed to be… singing? You came here on the train today! Choo-choo! Choo-choo! To spend the day with all your friends! Woohoo! Woohoo! So I sing a Pinkie welcome song! To you! To youuuuuu! The yellow stallion did not react. His brain seemed not to know how to. His system was rebooted by a soft hug and a familiar Trottingham accent close to his ear. "Don't worry, that's just Pinkie. She's… uh…" Hoofclid stalled. "The SAPFWAICE!" chipped in Pinkie. Braeburn gave only a baffled stare. Hoofclid looked desperately to the party pony for assistance.  "Self Appointed Ponyville Friendship Welcome Ambassador In Chief Extraordinaire, of course!" Pinkie threw her hooves round the two stallions. "And it is my duty to make you feel at home!" Braeburn chuckled. "I already feel at home in Ponyville, Pinkie." "Well, you know what they say…" Pinkie smooshed the colts' muzzles together, "...home is where the heart is! Wink wink wink!" Not stopping to wonder why Pinkie had said the word wink rather than just winking, Hoofclid and Braeburn took the hint and kissed. The pink hurricane resumed with a sustained squeeing sound, then snapped suddenly to a halt. "My work here is done!" declared Pinkie Pie, rearing dramatically and smashing a smoke bomb into the ground.  When the smoke cleared, Pinkie was still standing there, grinning. Brae and Hoof waited patiently, but she didn't seem to intend to do anything else. Waving goodbye, they began to walk off towards Sweet Apple Acres. Brae could have stayed at Hoofclid's house of course, but he had always stayed at Sweet Apple Acres when he visited and didn't want to upset the apple cart by changing. It didn't reduce their time together, and Applejack-made pancake breakfasts were a powerful argument in favour of the status quo. Heading to his usual room to ditch his saddlebags, Braeburn found Big Macintosh dusting down the surface of a table which was usually piled high with Apple family memorabilia. In fact the entire room seemed suspiciously clean and empty. Brae opened a couple of drawers at random. Empty. The cupboard? Empty. Not a single hat or bow. "You been clearing this room out, Big Mac?" asked Braeburn. "Just making sure you've got plenty of room to feel at home here, Brae." came the taciturn reply. Braeburn stared. He had expected an "Eeyup". His question had been tailored to be answerable with an "Eeyup". Big Macintosh had used more words than was necessary. Brae knew his cousin well enough to know that he wasn't slow, as some ponies might interpret the monosyllabic responses. He was thoughtful and incisive. So when he spoke more than one word at a time, his words carried meaning.  Trouble was, Braeburn had absolutely no idea what Big Mac was hinting at. He squinted, trying to discern any clues on Mac's face. The red stallion simply smiled and walked away, leaving a very perplexed pony to unpack. Braeburn descended the stairs haltingly, his brain still attempting to process the phenomenon just witnessed. But his head cleared dramatically as he turned a corner and spotted his Hoofclid waiting for him downstairs, swishing his tail patiently. The last few steps were an opportunity to build up momentum—an opportunity that was seized as Braeburn unleashed a week's worth of hugging energy on his giggly boyfriend.  A sharp cough from Applejack interrupted the heap of cuddly stallions. "I'm glad to see y'all are happy, but maybe there are better ways to use a hallway. Like, say, being able to walk through it?" The two colts fled to their corner of the orchard.  The work on this patch of ground had started out from Braeburn's insistence that he couldn't stay over all the time without doing some work to help the family farm. But of course the point of the visit was to see Hoofclid, so the unicorn had come to help as well. Now the rest of the Apples largely left these few trees alone, so that it was a special project for the boyfriends: a place to watch the trees grow along with their love. The trees weren't ready to harvest yet: with no pony tending them much of the time, they grew more slowly than the ones in the main orchard. A feed and a water were the main jobs for the day, Braeburn said. Hoofclid pulled a small cart around with the tools and watering cans. He never used his magic while doing farmwork—either from respect for the Apple family traditions or from fear of what Applejack would say. Brae wondered sometimes how much those two things really differed. Even without magic, the cart wasn't too heavy for the unicorn to tow from tree to tree as Braeburn tended each in turn. As he worked, he tried to explain to Hoofclid what he was doing and why. The mathematician was always curious, but earth pony magic was so passive and subtle in its operation that it was tricky to put into words. The focus on each tree in turn, putting energy and good wishes through the watering can, through your hooves touching the soil, through pruning loose branches… they all helped the trees grow strong. Hoofclid had once brought a magnifying glass to squint at Brae's hooves as he worked to see if they gave off an aura like unicorn horns, but all he got for his trouble was a boop on the nose. There was a wonderfully comfortable feeling in visits to Ponyville. Meet at the station. Work the orchard a little. Walk to the duck pond. Tea, perhaps with Fluttershy. Watching the sunset under a favourite tree. All safe. All homely. All with his stallion. One of the most homely "jobs" of all came at the end of the day. A benefit of a regular visit was that you could build up traditions. From one troubled night of bad dreams about missing cutie marks grew a tradition of reading Apple Bloom a bedtime story. Although once the rest of the household learned excitedly from Apple Bloom of Braeburn's wide range of pirate voices in Gusty the Great and the Clam of Destiny, he had started to find other ponies lurking surreptitiously outside the door to listen in. Today was no exception: as he walked backwards out of the room to shut the door on his sleeping cousin, Braeburn nearly fell over a heap made out of a drowsy unicorn and another sleeping cousin. "Enjoying the story?" he enquired with a grin. "Mayyyyyybe." Hoofclid winked. "You need some help getting out from there?" the yellow stallion asked, gesturing to Big Mac's sleeping form. Instead of answering, Hoofclid's horn flared to life, lifting the farm pony up and floating him over to his own room, where it tucked him in. "You could've lifted him this whole time? Why'd you let him squish you like that for so long?" asked Brae in some confusion. "Well I was busy listening to the stor—I mean, busy sitting here in a manner unrelated to the storytelling." Hoofclid grinned. Braeburn smiled and spun round, catching his boyfriend a playful swipe with his tail. "Come on, sugarcube. Mac ain't the only sleepy pony here who likes cuddles." Hoofclid trotted swiftly to bed, where he wrapped himself up in the blankets like a cuddly burrito. Braeburn hung up his jacket and glared in mock severity. "The return of the blanket bandit! I may have to fetch the sheriff!" The unicorn giggled and unwrapped himself, pulling the earth pony into bed and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Good night, Brae." "Good night, Hoofy."