==X===X===X===X===X==
Braeburn takes a deep breath. He stares forward, unfocused, at the shelves of booze in front of him. His sasparilla glass rests on the bar, long empty.
Handlebar has politely stepped away to give us space.
I lean forward, putting myself into Braeburn’s field of vision. “Should we take this conversation elsewhere?”
Braeburn nods. “Yeah… Yeah, I suppose that’d be easiest.” He rolls his eyes. “I’ll admit, without the buzz, there ain’t much appeal to spilling your sorrows at a bar.” He knocks the bar once with a hoof and tips his hat at Handlebar. “So I s’pose there’s no need to darken your establishment, Handlebar. I’ll let you get this place back to a proper mood.”
Handlebar merely nods and thanks us for our patronage.
We swivel on our stools and head outside. I keep my eyes peeled for any more surprises from Braeburn’s family, but as we step out into the light, it’s Appleloosans as far as the eye can see. They’ve picked up the pace, and several of them give Braeburn big, showy smiles as they hang more decorations.
Braeburn stops a few steps into the street. “Well, usually this is where I’d bring the tour to the library.” His voice is bouncy again. “But can’t much tell a story where it’s supposed to be quiet, and Abby’ll likely be in there runnin’ numbers. Shame, too. We’ve got a little folk museum in there.”
Scanning for anypony I recognize, I half-heartedly ask, “Museum?”
“Hardly worth mentioning, if I’m honest, but some of the townsfolk wanted us to preserve little pieces of our history. It’s got the shovel that we used to first break the ground, and, uh… You alright?”
I snap back to him and realize how much I was looking around.
Braeburn cocks his head. “They don’t bite, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He chuckles. “Or maybe you’re findin’ everypony a little too friendly. Lots of city folk have that feeling the first day or so. We consider it a badge of honor.”
I shake my head. “Forgive me, I’m just not used to hearing stories like this in public spaces.” It’s true, even if I’m omitting half the reason I’m so watchful. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to continue out here.”
Braeburn purses his lips. “Mighty considerate of you. Most ponies in town have read the book. The ones who are old enough, at least, so they know.” He shakes his head. “But you’re right. I’ll probably be a little more at ease with some privacy. Hm…” He taps his chin. “Oh! How about we take a spin around the orchard, then head up to the hill for a view of the whole town? We can watch the train come in when it’s time.”
I chew the inside of my cheek. “Let's do the view first. Big Mac said he’ll meet us for lunch in the orchard, anyway, so the timing might work out better.”
“Heh.” Braeburn prances past me. “Or you’re puttin’ off the apple bucking chores for a few more minutes.”
I coyly shrug. “There are a number of benefits, yes.”
We walk through the alley next to the Salt Block, and as we head towards a hill covered in buffalo prints, we are quickly out of earshot.
Braeburn continues. “Bronze is a gentlestallion. Always has been, and I think that’s what makes him so…” His gait winds down like a toy at the end of its string.
I can think of a number of different words he might say. Dangerous. Cunning. Malicious.
“...beautiful.”
I feel like a sack of flour just hit me in the head. “Excuse me?”
Braeburn hangs his head. We pause for a moment, and he looks up at me with guilty eyes.
==X===X===X===X===X==
I don’t… want you to think I’m trying to reform him. Or paint some rosy picture, or apologize for what he’s done. He hurt me, and he hurt Soarin’. I’m sure he’s hurt others. But I don’t want you to think it’s so simple, either.
See, the morning when Soarin’ and I broke up, he told me how much he’d learned about himself in those few months together. I think that’s why ponies seek out relationships. Or at least part of it. Being with somepony teaches us about ourselves. And loathe as I may be to admit it, I learned so much from Bronze.
Bronze didn’t linger at the train station platform, at least not once he caught me looking at all the other tourists that were eying us. He just smiled and nodded. “Forgive me for coming on strong, Braeburn. If you’ve looked in a mirror today, I’m sure you’ll understand why.” He reached into his bags and pulled out a black, wide-brimmed cowpony hat – one of the few tourists to ever bring his own – then put it on and tipped it to me in one smooth motion. I think he put it on just to greet me. “I figure I don’t need to cause a scene. I’ll see you ‘round, cutie.”
I thought I would melt.
He brushed past me as he walked to the stairs. His thick, muscled body shoved me just a little, and he rumbled with a low laugh that made the back of my head tingle. “Might wanna attend to the other tourists, though.”
I swallowed and looked back at the rest of the crowd, still fiddling with their bags and looking all around. They needed guidance. Shaking off the mental fog, I straightened my shirt and my hat, trotted up to the group, and greeted them with a big ol', “Sorry for the delay, folks! Welcome to Aaaaappleloosa!”
Maybe I’m just prone to lovesickness, but as much as I was weighed down by Pridesong’s warning, my insides tickled whenever I thought of Bronze. I brought the rest of the tourists to the Tumbleweed, but Bronze was conspicuously absent from the tours I gave for the rest of the day. Never once did I spot him, and you can bet I was looking.
And yet, I scolded myself for getting riled up. I told myself I couldn’t let it happen again, and so, for two agonizing days, I played the perfect host, and whenever Bronze would show up for an event, I would stay with the group and treat him like anypony else.
Bronze would later accuse me of playing hard-to-get, and it had driven him wild.
It was day three for this tour group, early in the afternoon. Once Pridesong got his guitar out and Lily Bloom started the first line dancing lesson, I finally had some free time to relax. Of course, ‘relax’ means jumping in and dancing with everypony else to help them get in the spirit. It was a good group, too. Didn’t take too much to get them invested and having a good time.
Lily Bloom called for a water break after three songs. “I know, I hate to be a wet blanket, y’all, but it’s hot today! You’ll thank me when you don’t have a splittin’ headache tonight.”
The crowd flocked to a table full of water that Handlebar had set up outside the Salt Block. Enterprising pony that he is, he’d set up lemonade for sale, too: normal and spiked.
I took that moment to slip away. As much as I wanted to keep the fun going, I had faith in my compatriots, and I dipped into Sheriff Silverstar’s office to get some paperwork done.
But just as I was closing the door behind me, I saw Bronze. He stood tall, far away from the crowd, and in his hooves was a bouquet of desert lilies, all dressed up with fairy dusters. And he was looking right at me.
I caught the door and stood there, slack jawed, as he approached.
Bronze held the flowers to his chest. His strong, beautiful wings were folded pristinely at his sides. He reached me and stood just a hair closer than was probably appropriate for public. He sat down, took off his hat, and held it to his heart while he presented me with the flowers.
They smelled like the sweetest perfume I’d ever smelled, and I felt dizzy.
Bronze’s mouth turned up in a small smile. “Braeburn, I’ve been waiting for you to take a break all day, but you’re just too giving, ain’tcha?”
My eyes fluttered. “I... I don’t know about that.” I swallowed. “I just want everypony to have a great time, is all.”
He rolled his eyes. “Cute, driven, generous… Sir, it is a wonder you ain’t been snatched up by somepony yet.” He stuck out his lower lip and shrugged. “Or maybe you have. I shouldn’t presume, but I’d be willing to wrestle him to the ground and more if it means winning you over.”
My voice caught in my throat. “This is so sudden.” I finally grabbed the flowers from him.
“Like I said, love at first sight.” He fiddled with his hat. “Heh. And there I go presumin’ again. But Braeburn, I’ve heard about you.”
My whole body stiffened up, and Pridesong’s words echoed in my head.
Bronze’s eyes fluttered, and his voice went all quiet. “And you’re even more amazing than they say.”
…and the tension rolled off me as quick as it had come. “What do you mean?”
“Aw, where do I start?” He finally noticed how much he was handling his hat, so he plopped it back on his head to make himself stop. “You’re a town founder, a true gentlestallion, handsome as all get out, strong, polite…” He blew air out of his lips. “And that’s just knowing you for five minutes." He stood and puffed out his chest. “And I reckon you were raised by a good family, too, so you like things a bit more traditional.”
I flinched at ‘family.’ Bronze’s eyes narrowed, just a touch, and it was like he already knew everything.
But he didn’t falter. “So I’m not waiting anymore for a perfect moment.” He blushed. It’s the second-reddest I’ve ever seen his cheeks. “I’m courtin’ you, Braeburn. I want to get to know you better, so I’m officially asking you to spend some time with me.”
It all felt so natural and right. It wasn’t like any of the flirting or leery eyes I’d gotten from any of the other stallions. This one felt different. Purer, somehow. I wasn’t pursuing him at all, but he was adamant that I give him a chance. It felt… powerful.
And once I realized how powerful I was, I sobered up and knew I had to make the responsible choice. My head hung, and I got a whiff of those daisies. So clean and bright out in the dusty land, and it made my words all the heavier. “Bronze… I’m flattered.” I forced myself to look him in the eye, and I saw his heart breaking just like mine had dozens of times. “But I’ve been down this road far too often, and I can’t live through another weekend romance.”
“Heh,” he chuckled through a broken smile. “I suppose it’s a good thing I lied to you, then.”
Ice stabbed through my chest. “You w-what?” I looked down at the bouquet and held it at foreleg’s length, like it was made of rattlers.
“Shit!” His wings sprung straight out, and his eyes were the size of dinner plates. “Fuck! No!” His ass plopped onto the porch. He waved his hooves in front of him like he was swatting a thousand flies. “No, no, you misunderstand, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I– dammit.” With a quick yank, he pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes, then wrapped his wings around himself. Inside, I heard him mumble, “This weren’t how it was supposed to go.”
Seeing him all bundled up like that flipped off my fight-or-flight switch. I didn’t feel icy any more. More like I’d just watched a pony rub all their clean laundry in the dirt before hanging it to dry. “You, uh… You okay, Bronze?” I held the flowers a little closer to my chest again.
He slowly unfurled his wings, then peeked out at me from under his hat. I’ll never forget that look: like a foal who knitted you their first sweater, but he forgot the hole for the head and is hoping you’ll still like it. He lingered on me, and when he saw I was looking back, he sighed, shook his head, and laughed at himself. “See, you got me all flustered, Braeburn.”
That is the reddest I’ve ever seen his cheeks.
I offered him a hoof, and he took it to stand up. My stars, his body felt good, even from just that little bit of contact.
Bronze brushed himself off. “What I meant was, I ain’t really a tourist.” He took a deep breath and steadied himself. “I misled you a bit, because I didn’t want to put any pressure on you. See, I’m here for good, Braeburn, if Appleloosa’ll have me. Chattahoofa wasn’t working for me, and I want a fresh start. I came with every intention of staying. I’d had…” A goofy smile flashed on his face. “...ideas about meeting the famous gay founder of Appleloosa, but when I saw you, I… Heh.” He laughed again, then took his hat off to fan himself. He was mighty sweaty, and that just made his gorgeous coat glisten all the more. “I was worried you’d think I was taking things too fast. Wouldn’t be the first time, because, well, look at me.”
I felt like I was drooling as I took another gander at that shimmering chest of his. “Oh, I’m lookin'.” My eyes shot wide open, and I slapped the hoof with the flowers to my mouth.
He smiled back. “I’ll take that as a sign of interest.”
With those lilies and dusters up in my face, it was like I was looking at him on the page of a storybook, framed by the beauty of the wilderness. But he was real. He was perfect because he was imperfect, and he wasn’t afraid to be true to himself, in front of me or anypony else. He already knew me well enough to approach me when I wasn’t in the middle of my duties. Most of all, he made me feel safe.
It was too late for me. I was already in love. So I just smiled and told him, “Yes, I’d like to spend more time with you, Bronze.”
He tried very, very hard to keep cool, but his wings hitched up, he fanned himself again, and his eyes couldn’t hide the joy he felt with his whole body. He cleared his throat. “Well, then you enjoy those flowers, sir, and I’ll swing by later after all the festivities.”
I didn’t know what else to say, but one of the tourists clearly did. I was so wrapped up in Bronze’s eyes and the way the sunlight glinted off his flanks that I hadn’t seen a blue-purple unicorn stallion trotting up to us. He spoke with a Neighagara accent. “Sorry to interrupt, but could you, uh, take that inside, please?”
Bronze slowly turned his head and raised an eyebrow. “Beg pardon?”
Something in the air changed. It was like there was a darkness to it all of a sudden. I knew it all too well: a tangle of feelings when somepony doesn’t approve of my “lifestyle.” But it was different, too. With Bronze there, it wasn’t mixed up. It was focused, and terrifying as it should have been, I was utterly fascinated that it wasn’t pointed at me for once.
The unicorn pointed back to the crowd. “Look, I’ve got my kids here, and we want a family-friendly vacation. I really don’t want anything shoved down our throats out here.”
Bronze moved with horrifying gentleness. He took his hat off, set it on the porch in front of the office, and turned to the unicorn. Calmly, he said, “Just call me a faggot. It’ll save us some time.”
The unicorn and I both recoiled. He said, “There’s no need for language like that.”
Bronze sneered at him. “Ain’t no worse than what you’re already implyin’.”
The unicorn shook his head and waved a hoof. “You have to understand–”
“No, you have to understand. There is nothin’ wrong with a stallion lovin’ other stallions, and I will mess up anypony that tells me otherwise.”
“I-I don’t want trouble. I just want what’s best for my family.” The unicorn feebly puffed up his chest, but he was still dwarfed by Bronze.
“I don’t have time to tell you everything wrong with that statement, but let me make one thing clear.” He leaned in close to the unicorn’s face and snarled through gritted teeth. “If I weren’t so giddy from meeting the most worthy stallion I’ve ever laid eyes on...” He jerked his head back towards me. “I would have already shoved those flowers so far up your ass that I’d have punched your teeth out from the inside.”
The unicorn’s jaw dropped.
Bronze leaned in more, spreading his wings aggressively. “And far as I’m concerned, that option is still on the table. Now you go back to your kids and tell ‘em I’m a pedophile or whatever lies you were gonna say anyway. I'll be fine. I've heard worse." He snorted and shoved his face against the unicorn's. "But stay the fuck outta my business, and we won’t have trouble. Got it?”
In reply, the unicorn turned up his nose and turned away, stomping back to the crowd.
Bronze ran a hoof through his mane and folded his wings in. He looked back to me. “Sorry. I’m rough around the edges.” He hung his head and looked genuinely sad. “I know I probably just made your job harder, but understand: I cannot and will not abide by any of that shit in my life, and you shouldn’t either.” He turned to face me. “And something tells me you’re too nice to push back, Braeburn, so even if I don’t have much to offer yet, let me offer you this: I can push back for you.”
I clutched the flowers to myself, and I…
Oh, Celestia’s name…
…
It was all right there, plain as day. I’d exchanged a couple dozen words with him, and already, he’d shown me how quickly he would turn to violence. I had seen first-hoof the kind of stallion he really is.
But at the time, all I saw was a pony who finally understood, a pony who would protect me from anyone that bothered us. And as awful as it is, it made me feel safe again.
==X===X===X===X===X==
Braeburn pulls his hat down over his eyes as we reach the base of the steep hill. We stand to the side, far away from the deep valleys of buffalo prints.
I take a deep breath. “You didn’t know, Braeburn. Not really.”
He looks up at the hill in front of him. “No excuses.”
==X===X===X===X===X==
The first time Bronze wrapped those wings around me, he might as well have stuck me with a brand. I felt like I would be his forever.
It was our first date, if you want to call it that, just a couple days later. He came over to my place to make dinner. Bronze is a natural in the kitchen. We had a savory vegetable hash with Chattahoofa-style grits, and for a side, he blended an incredible whipped cream fruit salad with a warmed herb syrup. It was the freshest thing I'd eaten in the desert, and I'm still impressed he found so much produce on such short notice.
We sat on a padded bench that you could generously call a couch. I leaned onto his chest, and before I knew it, those gilded feathers began to stir.
Bronze smirked. "I've seen you eying them, cutie. Got a thing for feathers?" As he spoke, he slowly stretched them up and around us.
It was like a pop-up storybook, but all around me. Each feather seemed to flex and stretch on its own, but they all danced together in perfect harmony, unfurling larger and more intricately each moment. Light filtered in through them, bathing my face in a metallic glow. It felt like I was a caterpillar who was finally ready to transform, and Bronze would help me become the radiant, colorful, happy butterfly I was meant to be.
I inhaled deeply. The fresh fruit and warm, rosemary-laden syrup smelled like the captured essence of July, mixed with the lightly dusted wings of a pony that already loved me for who I was.
"You okay, cutie?" His voice was gentle but unwavering, and he wrapped a leg around my waist. He fed me the first bite of the fruit.
My eyes fluttered. I knew I would wake up, and yet, it wasn't a dream. That flavor, that moment… sweet, complex, fresh, safe, dripping with expectation and desire. I lay my head at his neck. "You're an angel. No other explanation."
His chest bounced with a laugh. "Oh, I assure you, I'm a lot more infernal than you might suspect." He gave my ass a squeeze.
I moaned and made a move to kiss him, and he obliged.
That first kiss might as well have been our hundredth, like we'd been doing it for months already. With his extra height, we were the perfect size for each other, and everything fit. His mouth tasted like the remnants of our dinner along with a flavor that was uniquely him.
And when he pulled away, he blinked three times, then shook his head. "Wow."
I chortled. "Didn't know I was that good a kisser."
"Not just the kiss. It was…" He looked at me like a sleepy puppy, then kissed my forehead again.
"Mmm… Careful how much you rile me up, or we may not get through this fruit."
He cocked his head back. "You just enjoy your fruit and kisses, cutie, because that's all the sugar you're gettin' tonight."
I lightly whapped his chest. "Aw, what kind of devil are you, not even trying to tempt me at all?"
"The kind that looks out for your pride, cutie." He set down the spoon he'd used to feed me and wrapped me in both forelegs.
"How do you mean?"
He sighed. "This town don't deserve you, Braeburn."
"What happened?" When he didn't respond, I repeated myself. "What happened, Bronze?"
He pursed his lips. "I don't want to spoil the evening, but for the sake of you not worrying…" He shook his head. "I had to slap some sense into a stallion today. He said some awful stuff about you and your sleepin' habits."
I deflated in his embrace.
"Don't mope, cutie. I set him straight. Like I said, I'll push back, remember?" He held me tight and kissed my forehead. "And while I don't ever think we should live our lives to please others, I ain't gonna give that asshole the satisfaction." He lifted my chin along with my spirits. "Now, to be fair, I don't much like buckin' on a first date. I’m traditional like that. I don't want you to ever think I'm just in it for your body, gorgeous as it is. So tomorrow, you're gonna to hold your head high, and anyone that makes a snide comment, you tell 'em the truth: that this time is different, and you're willing to take it slow, because what we're starting is special."
…
It sounds nice, don't it? Show the town that I wasn't what they expected. Feel pride in my chastity. Stick it to anypony still thinking I was a two-bit whore.
But I was doing it on his terms. He was already in control, stepping in and isolating me from the town. Looking back, I think that's the way he wanted it.
Bronze squeezed my flank. "But don't you worry. I'm eager as you are, and I'll make that perfectly round apple butt mine soon enough."
His.
Gall, I really didn’t know a thing, did I? Even after a lifetime of feeling shackled by my parents’ expectations, of hiding from them and wanting so desperately to be out on my own, I was so quick to get tied up by anypony that wanted me. I could forfeit everything I was if it just meant feeling that sweetness on my mouth and that warmth suffusing my body, even for a night, the next morning be damned. And no matter how many warning signs I saw, I kept falling into it, over and over again, until I was totally dependent on him, and he’d taken over my life.
He’d certainly taken over my thoughts. We agreed to spend a week together before we got physical, but every day, when I’d see him, my mind went straight to what he’d do to me.
But I did as I was told, and Celestia be damned, I felt absolutely no shame in myself. Might have been the first time in a year. Merriweather was the first to give me a side-eye that next day, and I gave her a bright “Hey there!” in response.
She hammered away at a washtub that had sprung a leak. “Mornin’, Braeburn.” She narrowed her eyes. “You seem chipper.”
“Course! Had a lovely dinner with Bronze last night, then got some much-needed shut-eye. Pretty darn close to the perfect evening, I’d say.”
She let out a little feh. “Right.”
It’s the sort of reaction that would have bothered me just a week prior, but like magic, I thought of Bronze and how he handled these sorts of things. “Truly!” I cantered up to her and her washbasin. “And yeah, I know what you’re thinkin’, but this ain’t like those other times. Bronze is somethin’ special.”
Merriweather grunted and set her hammer down. “Braeburn, you expect me to believe that?”
“I do.” I nodded at her. “Say what you will about my habits, Merriweather, but have you ever known me to be a liar?”
That gave her pause.
So I shot back a glistening smile. “So you ask anypony you like and see whether Bronze came back late last night. They’ll all tell you the same story. Cross my heart.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, then cocked her head, then went wide-eyed. “No foolin’?”
“None at all, tempting as it was,” I said with a wink.
With a snorted laugh, she picked up her hammer again. “Well, if that’s true, then good for you. Makes me feel a little better to see you settlin’ down. You have a good day.” She went back to her work.
And I trotted along. See, I knew she’d ask about us later, and I knew that she’d hear about how Bronze came back to town right after the dinner hour.
See, Bronze was staying in the workers' home in those days. It’s a long bunkhouse we’d built mostly as temporary housing, and it was meant for anypony that needed a place until they could get their hooves under them. There was one for the bachelor stallions and one for the mares and families. I’d offered Bronze a room in my house, of course, but he wouldn’t have any of that. He wanted to protect my reputation.
I headed there next, and I knocked on the front door. Nopony was there, and that told me all I needed to know: Bronze was out in town making himself useful, and that gave me comfort.
A few more ponies stopped me to say hello. Most were very curious about how things were going with Bronze, since they'd seen him come home early, too. They had sympathy in their eyes, like they assumed we'd already broken up. Hoo, I tell you: the smug feeling you get from undercutting nasty assumptions about yourself is quite a drug. Almost makes that week of abstinence worth it. Almost.
I headed back to my orchard for my chores and upkeep. I’d hired Fertile Seed to help dig holes for the transplants, but he’s never been a fan of me, and he’d jumped over to the tomato and sorghum fields at the first opportunity. I thought of him as I started digging, about how I wished I could hold over his head what a good little colt I’d been, but he’d find out soon enough. I chuckled to myself, “That’ll burn his hide somethin’ fierce.”
That made for lonely work in the field, though, and a little before noon, I was starting to get a headache from the August heat. I’d taken most of my water breaks like I was supposed to, but my canteens had run dry, so I’d skipped my last one. I knew what to watch for, though, so I sat down, took my hat off my head, and wiped my brow.
And all of a sudden, I was in the shade. I blinked and looked around: a perfect patch of darkness encircled me, and I realized how much cooler I suddenly felt. “What in tarnation?” I scratched my head, and I finally looked up.
“Hey there.” Bronze lazed on a cloud the likes of which I’d never seen in Appleloosa. He looked down at me, the sun giving his head a corona that looked like a halo. “Lookin’ hot, Applebutt.”
I snorted a laugh. “That all you can think about? My big, round, apple-y ass?”
Bronze shrugged. “Looks even better from up here. You takin’ care of yourself?”
“Not quite, but…” I shook my head. “Wow! Where’d you get a cloud in these parts?”
“Morning run over the foothills.” He gestured in the direction of the MacIntosh Mountains, which was miles away. “Moisture beats against the hillsides in the morning. If you’re quick, you can scrounge up a few o’ these before it all burns off.”
My eyes widened. “A few?”
He smirked at me. “Yeah, but we’ll see. No idea what the climate’s like out here yet, so hopefully this can be my full-time gig. Already went and sold a couple to some very happy customers.” He patted the cloud, and a few dozen drops fell onto the ground around me. “This one’s for you, though.”
My eyes fluttered. Appaloosa had always been an earth pony settlement, and I hadn’t even considered the utility of having a pegasus around. But it all seemed like it was falling into place. “Well, that’s mighty kind. What do I owe ya’?”
“Dinner,” he said without hesitation. “Don’t feel like you need to go all fancy, neither.”
“Aw, you’re just tryin’ to show me up! I ain’t servin’ plain ol’ grits after that masterpiece last night.”
He stood up, then glided down next to me. “Well, one of us was unemployed and had a lot of time on his hooves.” He kissed my nose. “And be grateful I'm not giving this cloud to you for free. I figure that wouldn’t sit right with you.”
“Readin’ me like a book.” I kissed his nose, and he puffed up in response.
“Mm, that’s nice.” He looked back up. “You just let me know where you want this, and I’ll get to waterin’. I gotta scout out another prospect this afternoon, but meet me at the Salt Block around five, y’ hear?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
I directed him to a few trees that were withering. The cloud he’d found was small, not enough for very much of the orchard. But for the plants that had struggled out in the desert, it was like breathing new life into them.
I took lunch at home, and when I hit up the Salt Block in the early evening, most of the stallions in town were already there. I was downright shocked when Pridesong waved me over to a table with him and Slate.
I raised a hoof at Handlebar, and he got right to pouring me a round as I sat down. “Evenin’, colts. How’s life treatin’ you?”
Slate smiled his stoic smile and sipped a beer. “Family’s good, so I can’t much complain.” His eyes flicked to Pridesong. “And how’s our resident musician?”
Pridesong had this defeated smile on his face. It was the kind you get when you stop letting your younger cousin win at a sport, but then they go and beat you anyway. “Well, I’m eatin’ crow for dinner tonight.”
Slate chuckled and sipped his beer.
I already knew what he was on about, and I was in a good mood. “Well, say no more, friend.” The waitress dropped off my beer, and I flipped her a couple bits.
“No, no, I’m owning up.” He sighed and shook his head. “Bronze came back home early last night, and you would not believe the teasing he got about not being able to, uh…”
I laughed into my ale. It tasted so sweet that day. “...to score with 'that damn whore?'” Saying those words like that, it didn’t sting. Even after just a few days, it felt like Bronze had opened my eyes to a whole new outlook on life.
Pridesong blushed. “Yeah.” He took a big gulp of his beer. “But he said y’all are takin’ it slow, and he said that you were a right gentlestallion last night.”
I leaned back in my chair. “He’s the gentlestallion, Pride. I’ll admit, he’s a looker, but with him… I don’t know. Somethin’ about him makes me willing to wait.”
Pridesong nodded at me. “Well, I’m proud of you, Braeburn. I guess I was wrong about you.”
I shook my head. “Naw, you weren’t wrong about my behavior.” My head cocked to the side, and I thought about what Bronze would say. “Well, maybe. Still figuring it out. I'm not convinced I did anything wrong, but if it’s affecting the town’s reputation, then, well, I need to consider that, too.”
Pridesong cut in. “Now, don’t you start apologizing. I’m the one in the wrong here.”
Slate rumbled a laugh. “Seems like we can move past it all then.” He raised his glass. “Here’s to living with each other more easily.”
“And here’s to Bronze,” Pridesong added, raising his glass, too. “Seems like he’s a real positive change for this town.”
“To Bronze,” I toasted.
And behind me, a smooth voice laughed. “Well, you Appleloosans must be awfully easy to please.”
I turned around, and I saw my fairy-tale stallion, sweating and smiling and ready to join us.
Bronze walked in, gave me a tender pat on the shoulder, and sat with us for another round, on him. He used the bits he’d gotten from his first delivery, of course, and if he hadn’t already endeared himself to Slate and Pride, well, he was in their good books by the end of the night.
To this day, I wonder about that night in the bar. Was he manipulating us all, trying to get on our good side so that he could do what he wanted, and none of us saw it? Or is it just that nicest ponies can do terrible, terrible things, and you'd never know it? Frankly, I don't know which I find more disturbing.