==X===X===X===X===X==
Braeburn sits up and dries his eyes with a fetlock. "It seems logical, right? You put up with a bad partner, because being alone is so much worse. Or at least, that's what you're afraid of."
I want to hug him again. Even more than that, I want to get Soarin' so he can comfort him. I have a job to do, though, and so does Soarin’. "That must have been an awful choice."
"It is." His head swivels. "And I appreciate the kindness of lending your ears. I think it really does help." He looks up at the sky. "I hate to make comparisons, but that first time was the worst one, I think.” He shakes his head. “I felt… so betrayed and vulnerable. And lost. And Bronze seemed like the only pony I could hold onto in Appleloosa."
There were so many others, though. "You didn't think you could go to Slate? Or Merriweather?"
Braeburn sneers. "I had convinced myself – or maybe Bronze had convinced me – that nopony in town could possibly understand us the way we understood each other." He stands abruptly. He doesn’t look at me. "Sorry, my legs are gettin’ stiff. Fancy a spin around this little plateau up here?"
I doubt it's his legs, but I want to ease his burdens however I can. "Sounds good."
We dust ourselves off and head away from the town.
==X===X===X===X===X==
I've learned that it's pretty typical abuser behavior: keep everything secret. Immediately apologize. Make it about comforting him so that I feel guilty about bringing it up again. Because wouldn't it be unreasonable of me to chastise him when he was so clearly sorry? Of course it wouldn't be, but that's how that game is played.
What they don't tell you is how much the abuser seems to buy into it, too. I'm no psychologist, but I have to wonder how much of his… the way Bronze acted, how much was a show and how much he really believed. And it leaves me wondering: what is “the truth?” Is Bronze an abusive coltfriend, end of story? Or did a bad day get to an otherwise good pony? And what about my choices, how I never addressed my fears and swept everything under the rug with booze and promises that everything would be okay?
What is “the truth?”
I know now that he's a liar and a manipulator. Even if he didn't understand what he was doing at the time, I can't trust him. Heh, easy to say now, when he’s not around. But in the moment, it's the hardest thing in the world to see.
We made up a story about an accident in the orchard and Bronze carrying me back. Doctor Patches believed it, and I don't blame her. Everypony was exhausted on account of the locusts. Sleep-deprived, too. Accidents like that were inevitable. So the story went.
To this day, there is a seed of fear deep inside me. It’s the knowledge that Bronze could do something terrible to me and get away with it. It tells me that ultimately, I’m alone. That at any moment, he could come back and do it all again, and everypony would believe him. It makes me feel cold all over. Numb, too. My experience and my time with Soarin’ have taught me how to deal with it, but I don’t think it will ever completely go away. Scars of the heart.
Doctor Patches bundled me up right. It was a hairline fracture. It would fully heal after a few weeks as long as I stayed off it. That meant no physical labor. Instead, I had to focus on the upcoming rodeo and the desk work that came with it.
Silver lining, I suppose, that I'm right-hoofed and had a lot more time to attend to the rodeo. I needed that time. Organizing a big event like this is an incredible amount of work and, well, forgive me for worrying about Soarin’ and this whole jamboree he’s got planned. I’ve got faith in him, but it’s mind-boggling how many little decisions need to be made for something like that. Heh, I suppose busted legs are another thing that Big Blue and I have in common. At least it forces us to use our time wisely.
But that meant I wasn’t out in my orchard. It needed more hooves, and I didn't have much choice but to let Bronze help run it. That also got him out of working for Fertile Seed, since even he's not bitter enough to deny a caregiver his duty. Feh. What a coincidence that it all worked out that way, right?
Bronze did a… passable job, but there were problems. Several. Bronze kept me out of it, of course, so I wouldn’t hear about them until much later. In the meantime, I had to focus on the tasks in front of me.
I'd wanted to compete in the rodeo, of course. I was going to be my team's first bucker in the hay pile competition. Mostly, I felt like I was letting them down, but I promised myself I'd find a replacement for them. Call it synergy or whatever you city ponies like, but with my extra free time, I figured out how to solve two problems at once.
See, after the locusts, the town had agreed to open up our rodeo to outsiders. We hadn’t decided on exactly what that’d look like, though, and about a third of us weren't keen on having so many strangers drop on by. We’d already sent out press releases as far as Las Pegasus, but we really had no control over whether they’d run with them. At the same time, we really needed the influx of cash, and we didn't have the money for a big campaign. Now, the answer seems obvious in hindsight, but somepony had to come out and say it.
"Family reunion!" I announced that night at the town hall. We had those meetings daily after the disaster. They were getting easier, or maybe I was just too tired to register any resistance. "Big ol’ reunion, for all of us! Nothing better than word of mouth, and who better to bring in than the folks we miss most?"
The crowd murmured, but I think they were mostly surprised I hadn't addressed the sling my leg was in.
I’d told the others about my plan earlier that day. Copperline thought it was great. Merriweather already had a flier designed that we could print for cheap in Las Pegasus. We just needed somepony to stuff envelopes and mail them (which was cheaper from the big city, too). For once, it was a quick meeting. Since most of the harvest was done, some of the laborer ponies agreed to take the late train into the city once we were ready.
It turned into a whole activity day the next morning. Nearly everypony in Appleloosa stopped by town hall to write letters to loved ones, many of whom they hadn't seen in years. We felt united again: we were ready to bring in outsiders without selling off part of who we were. No, we wanted to share a place we were proud of with the ones we loved. If that ain’t synergy, I don’t know what is.
…
Well, okay, quick confession: I don’t really understand what “synergy” is. It’s just a five-bit word I learned in Canterlot. Everypony says it all the time when they want folks to cooperate. It’s basically a magic spell that makes ponies play nice. I’d look it up, but I’d hate to ruin the magic of it.
Anyway, the whole town was writing letters. We had a big setup in the town halI with paper, ink, and probably every envelope in a half-day radius. Some folks wanted to just send letters, and that was okay, but most of us wanted the fancy fliers in the envelopes, too, so our families could see how much work we put into planning the event. We might as well have taken the door off the building: ponies were coming in and out all day. I’m real proud of the way we all came together.
Course, it wasn’t all easy. I sat at the table in the town hall mid-morning with nothing to show, staring at a blank page addressed to the Ponyville side of the family. I sighed. "Bronze…” I thought carefully about what I could and couldn’t say in public. My mind flashed with how he might react if I said the wrong thing, but I banished those thoughts as quickly as I could. It took effort, but I asked, “What do I do?"
There were a few other ponies around, but I knew Bronze wouldn't let on to our little secret. He didn't have anypony to write letters to, so he was just stopping by before hitting the orchard. "Tell 'em the truth: you had an accident, so they'd be helping you out by competing, and you'd love to see the little ones again."
The truth, he said, without an ounce of irony.
I’d gotten sick of holding a dry quill, and Bronze had been right about how to handle my parents, so what reason did I have to argue? After a lifetime of pretending to be straight, what was one more little lie?
I finished my letter and spent the rest of the day helping others. We shipped them out that day, and I’m pleased as punch that the Appleloosan work ethic saw every one of those letters delivered right away.
The responses came in surprisingly quickly and in very large numbers. We’d been right: even on such short notice, most of the town’s families were itching to see everything we’d accomplished. The biggest theme I heard from everypony was along the lines of, “They asked why we didn’t invite them sooner!”
I got my response back within a few days. Big Mac couldn't make it on account of some delivery he was making out to Our Town. Sorry, not our town, Appleloosa. Our Town. Not here, but… Dammit, it's a confusing name, and I really wish they'd picked something different. Mac was bringing them some supplies after Starlight Glimmer got run out of Our Town – again, their town Our Town, and not our town, and–
…
…fuckin' hell.
Anyway, I was sad I wouldn't see him. On the plus side, that trip was when he first met Sugar Belle. Took him a heck of a long time to confess his love for her, but I ain't in a position to judge.
Applejack was coming, though. I love her to death, but can you imagine trying to keep your secret coltfriend from the element of honesty?
Like usual, Bronze had the answer, for better or worse. We talked about it as we cuddled after dinner one night. He said, "Just keep her distracted. I'll pack up and go stay with Slate for a few days. He'll understand."
I sighed and hugged his barrel. We each had a snifter of brandy that we pretended was fancy. "I don't wanna impose on anypony."
Bronze’s stomach rumbled with a deep laugh. "Applebutt, Slate has a good head on his shoulders. He knows you ain't out.” I looked up into those sparkly eyes, and he looked back. “If there's anypony we want on our side this weekend, it's him."
With a sip of my brandy, I said, "I don't doubt it, but how the hell am I gonna keep AJ distracted?"
He shrugged. "She got any weaknesses?"
I smirked and ribbed him. "Apples ain't weak." I tensed as I realized I’d called him out. A cold jolt shot through me, and I braced myself to get hit.
Bronze just laughed again. "Heh. My apologies.” He ran a hoof through my mane a few times as he chose his words, and I relaxed. “Lemme put it another way: she got any strengths that she takes too far?"
I thought for a moment. "She doesn't leave anything undone. She gets tunnel vision, I suppose, and focuses hard on whatever task is in front of her. She doesn't know the meaning of the word 'quit,’ even when it nearly kills her."
Bronze looked off into the distance. He downed this brandy, I suspect to buy himself more time to think. "Hm… 's she the competitive type?"
"Hoo, like you wouldn't believe!"
"Bingo."
It worked like a charm. I wish I could have spent more time at the rodeo itself, but my focus was on keeping AJ from finding out about Bronze. She was plenty distracted enough, though, by an incident from that weekend. A pony by the name Troubleshoes Clyde made quite a stir. It wasn’t his fault, though, and after that, he was a valued member of the community for a couple years. Last I heard, he'd moved out to Neighagra with a, uh… a very nice photographer. I think I’d best leave it at that.
The weekend wasn't all lies and deception, though. I genuinely had a good time, and I got to reconnect with my cousin Apple Bloom and her friends. Though, I like to think I'm a much better foalsitter than how AJ tells the story. I was really good at keeping those three in line.
Honest.
I hadn't liked lying to my family the way I did, but, well… It was a lot easier than I would have thought. I told myself I was getting better: my parents were coming around, and I would tell the rest of my family eventually, too. Heh. I guess the media scandal serves me right for waiting so long.
Suffice to say, the rodeo was a massive success, despite the few hiccups. And I’ll tell you, I have never been prouder of Appleloosa than when I saw them share our home. The town was bursting at the seams: ponies from all around Equestria made the trip. The hotel was full, even with lots of folks staying with their families. To make extra room, Pridesong did the usual desert campout experiences for free, though he did make quite a haul in tips despite his protests. At all hours of the weekend, there was activity: crafting, competitions, late-night music and carousing outside of town, and so much more.
I risked some time near Bronze, too. He mostly kept a low profile, and he and Slate had made sure nopony was blowing the whistle on my love of stallions. But I just had to see him compete in the agility competition. It was hooves only, no wings, and my friend, he was stunning. Even without flying, he weaved through the poles and over the obstacles with a strength and grace that I’ve rarely seen outside the Wonderbolts. Honestly, he might have performed better than them on the ground, and he took first place.
The crowd went wild for him. The shouts of “Bronze! Bronze!” and “Ap-ple-loo-sa!” could be heard clear across town. Regardless of any issues with the weather, regardless of him being a pegasus in a nearly all earth-pony settlement, they cheered for him, because he was one of us, and he’d brought the trophy home to the community.
During the award ceremony, he saw me in the crowd, and he smiled as wide as I’ve ever seen him. With a little head bob, I directed him behind the bleachers. He met me there after the lasso competition started, nice and discreet and away from public view.
We snuck a kiss and a few cuddles and promised each other we’d keep it brief. But, well, that ain’t me. I was all over him within sixty seconds. “Wings, you were amazing! I’ve never seen anypony move like that!”
Bronze puffed up and held me close with his wings, the small trophy still in his right hoof. “I wanted to make you proud, Applebutt. I figured you’d be watching.”
I just… rubbed my face all over him between kisses. He felt so strong and confident, even for him, and I soaked it up like a sponge. “And the whole town saw, Bronze. You did Appleloosa proud.” I hugged his neck. “We’ve got ourselves a community hero!”
He chuckled sadly, so quickly that I knew he was being honest. “Naw, I’m no community member. I’m still an outsider, like always.”
I looked up into his eyes and put a hoof on his cheek. “Well, I know I ain’t gonna convince you otherwise, but just for today at least, enjoy being a hero to more than just me.”
Bronze half-sighed, half-growled, but he wore a warm smile. “Okay, I can do that much.” He narrowed his eyes at me, turned his head, and grimaced. “And I know that you know how risky it is to come see me like this, so…” He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Thank you for supporting me. Means a lot. I love you, Applebutt.”
I kissed him back on the lips. “Always. Love you, too, Wings.” My face flushed as I realized something. “We, uh… We ain’t said that out loud before, have we?”
Bronze smiled back at me. “Now, didn’t I tell you it was love at first sight?”
I shrugged and looked at the dirt like a school filly. “Well, yeah, but… Gosh, this feels different.” I looked back up at him, my beautiful stallion. My heart swelled until it filled up my whole body. “I like this feeling. I like it a lot.”
Bronze paused. His head rolled to the side, and he smiled. The whole rest of the world, from the cheering crowds to my cousins to all the fears I may have had, they all melted away. Without a word, he stepped forward, pulled me in for a hug, and wrapped us both in those giant wings of his. We didn’t need words. We just took a moment to bask in that feeling.
And… for the first time since he’d hurt me, I didn’t feel any fear.
We kept our distance for the rest of the weekend, and as tired as everypony was, we were sad to see the events draw to a close. There were a lot of long goodbyes, and the poor train conductor nearly tore his mane out with the delays. I saw AJ and the fillies off proper after a late lunch, and none of them suspected a thing. I would have known, too. The Cutie Mark Crusaders are the least subtle ponies I know. A few families ended up staying an extra night, but for the most part, Appleloosa was back to its usual, beautiful self by Sunday night, albeit a whole lot cheerier and with enough energy for ten harvest seasons.
The success of the rodeo got Appleloosa back on track financially, too. We repaid most of our debts almost overnight. Plus, it set a precedent for more events like that in the future. I told Bronze as much on Sunday night when we were, uh… celebrating. It was our first real moment together since the bleachers.
We were on my couch again, halfway through a bottle of whisky and passing it back and forth. I was tipsy, but not yet sloppy. I knew I would get there, though. That was the plan. "Hell, I suspect next year will be even bigger. Especially if we give out bigger prizes. Might even be more than just our families and friends, and we could do more of 'em!"
Bronze kissed my cheek. "Think your detractors'll go along with it?"
"Aw, they'll come around. Once they get to midwinter and see how much better off we are this year." I took another pull of the whisky. The cherry sweetness bloomed into a beautiful burnt oak flavor on the aftertaste. "Plus, I doubt they'll say much. Especially with how their families kept saying they had such a great time. Making a tidy profit won’t hurt, either, and it won't look good to be a stick in the mud."
"Heh.” He gave me a squeeze. “Look at you, playin’ the game."
That comment needled me. "Aw, I don't wanna play anypony."
"Ain't got a choice, Applebutt. Everypony does it. But you do it to make other folks' lives better." He gave me a big, sloppy, loud kiss on my cheek. "That's what makes you golden."
My whole chest warmed at that compliment. "I wouldn't say that."
"Course you wouldn’t. You're too good for that." He leaned in and nibbled my ear, a trick he'd learned for whenever he wanted me to melt. As I did, he whispered in my ear, and his breath smelled of whisky and love. "You're my pot of gold at the end of a gay, gay, gaaaay rainbow, Applebutt."
I laughed him off. "At the end, huh?” That moment behind the bleachers stuck out in my mind, and I poked his side. “Sounds like somepony ain’t feeling like an outsider no more.” With bright eyes, I met his gaze. “And maybe he’s found a place to settle?”
Bronze’s expression… It didn’t collapse, really. His smile faded, and he looked out into the distance, like he often did. But it was different. It was like… like finding out your neighbor had paid all your farm debts for you, or a friend had fixed up an old barn you hadn’t had time to repair, a simple act of kindness that was somehow beyond comprehension. "Huh,” he said simply. “You really…"
After a long, quiet moment, I ran a hoof up his chest and through his wild, dirty blonde mane. “Wow. I ain’t never seen you speechless.”
Bronze was still zoned out. “Yeah. Settle.” He turned his head to look at his flank. "Huh. Hard to believe, ain't it?"
He was looking at his cutie mark, and I looked at it, too. It was an unrolled parchment paper with rough edges and a few topographical details. A map, but terribly unclear to where. I nodded at it. "Hard to stop being a wanderer?"
Bronze narrowed his eyes and smirked. "I prefer the term 'explorer.' Makes me sound more adventurous."
"Okay, Mister Explorer.” I nudged his chest with my nose. “So we’re talkin’ about where this journey ends, but I ain’t heard where it started. What were you explorin’ when that thing popped up on your ass?"
He rolled his eyes. "Nothin' special. Same story as most other ponies, I bet."
"Bullshit," I said with a smile. My thoughts got devilish. "Listen, we're gettin' hooched soon."
He whirled his head to face me, eyes wide and jaw open. But then he realized, and he flushed red, and he narrowed his eyes with a big, embarrassed smile. "You asshole." He gently butted heads with me.
"Sorry, must be slurring my words." I leaned back into him. "I was just saying that I'm so drunk, I'm liable to break my other leg if I stand up again." My head settled at the base of his chest. "So might as well spend the time and tell me."
He moaned and lay his neck across mine. "Okay, you win. But it ain't much. Just found an old mine out in the hills. Like I said, nothing special."
My ear swiveled towards him. "Oh, I know you ain't done. Maybe try with a little more detail?"
He sighed, and I could almost feel his eyes glaze over. "Was out with my cousins one day. Lunar Dusk – that's my sister – she didn't come, because she was too young. And we didn't wanna play with her. You know how colts are."
My jaw tightened. "Sort of."
His chin shifted on me. "Sort of?"
I told myself to relax. I did a lot of that in those days. "I'll tell you about Jonah sometime. You go on ahead."
After a pause, he continued. "Okay. So me, Lucky Quartz, and Spectral were flying around the hills a few miles from home. We'd been out that way a few times, but we were at that age where we just kept wanting to push the boundaries a bit more."
I whapped at him with my tail. "Ain’t that every age for you?"
"Oh, hush." He nipped at my shoulder, just enough to sting and send a pleasurable chill up my spine. After I finished gasping, he continued. "But yeah, our parents would have said we were too young to be that far out. Quartz and Spectral's would have, anyway. We wanted to head back, but I saw a weird type of hole in one of the hillsides. Told the colts to follow me, and we dove down to check it out.
"It was an abandoned mine. Collapsed at the entrance, but just partly. Plenty big for a few young colts to squeeze in, though. Quartz was all, 'I ain't sure about this, cuz,' and I told him, well, he could wait outside, because I weren’t scared. Spectral bounced with curiosity, but he just didn't want to go first. So, that left me. I didn't hesitate."
I kissed his shoulder. "Big, brave explorer."
Bronze shrugged. "Eh, more like dumb colt. But we all went in and found some mostly used-up torches."
I craned my neck to look at him. "Did you have any matches?"
Bronze smirked. "That's cute. You’re cute, Applebutt. But naw. Found some natural flint and used my knife instead. The torches were bone-dry, so it weren't hard. I bet we spent two hours exploring that mine. I led the way and used my knife to make notches on the wall so we wouldn't get lost. When the torches ran out, Quartz and Spectral lost their damn minds. I had to shout at ‘em to get ‘em to calm down. And when I had a second to think and focus on that pure darkness, I saw a crystal vein with a faint magic glow. It was just around another corner. The others couldn’t pick up on it, but to me, it was clear as day. Momma always said I've got magic eyes, and, well, maybe I do.” He rolled his head to the side and looked at me lovingly. “I’ve got a knack for spottin’ treasure right away.” After I whimpered at him like a lovestruck puppy, he continued. “We harvested a few crystals, and between their light and my navigating, I got us back out safely. My cousins left the cave first. Right as I stepped back out into the light, I saw a big flash on my butt, and there it was."
I bumped his side with my head. "So you saved two colts and struck it rich? You were selling yourself short."
Bronze smiled and shrugged. "Naw, the only folks short-sold were the investors."
That sent me reeling. "Investors!? What?"
Bronze scratched the side of his head. "Well, after I told my daddy about it and showed him the crystals, he and my uncle got right busy. They bought the land the mine was on. Weren't that expensive. It had changed hooves a bunch, since it was pretty worthless otherwise. Uncle Driller looked into it.”
Hesitating a bit, I asked, “Sorry to interrupt, but I gotta ask: Driller? Quartz? You got earth pony blood in you?”
Bronze nodded. “Great grandpa was an earth pony. Was still pretty scandalous in those days when he married a pegasus.” He got back to his story. “Anyway, Uncle Driller found out the original owner was some hermit miser. Our best guess is that he died before he told anypony about the crystals, and then his family must have sold the land for cheap."
"Wow," I said. "So the whole family went into the mining business?"
"Naw, and we had very little faith there was much on that plot. Got a magic surveyor in there. Said there was a small chance of the good stuff deep down, but, well, the expense would be huge."
I rolled onto my back so I could look at him more easily. I had to snuggle right close to keep from falling off the couch. "That must have been disappointing."
Bronze shifted his weight to make more room for me. "Not really. My daddy let me keep all the crystals I could carry."
"I would hope so. They were yours, right?"
Bronze's face flattened. "Not to him. And technically, I'd stolen those first few, but I don't think anypony would convict us for that." He shook his head. "Water under the bridge, though. He and Uncle Driller started up a mining company. No intention of actually doing any mining, of course, but pieces of paper are cheap, and they make operations look official. Almost as soon as the ink was dry, they sold the land and mining rights to a much larger company. Made a handsome profit off it, which, thanks to Momma, I got a share of. It’s in an account back in Chattahoofa."
I cocked an eyebrow. "How'd they sell the mine if the surveyor said there wasn't much chance of a payoff? They didn't lie, did they?"
"Didn't need to, because they weren't really selling the mine. They were selling a dream." He shakes his head. "Folks want to believe, Braeburn. They get all kinds of ideas in their heads. Want to think they can make them happen if they believe hard enough. It can blind them. Make ‘em desperate. Make 'em make dumb choices. That’s all that dreams are."
I deflated. "Dreams ain't all dumb, Wings.” I gestured to the door. “Sometimes they're as crazy as starting a town in the middle of nowhere." I petted his back. “And… it ain’t so crazy to dream of finding a place to call home.”
The sides of his mouth drooped. He looked at his cutie mark again. “Did I ever tell you about the tattoo I’m gonna get?”
“Naw, don’t think so.”
He sighed. “My cutie mark… There ain’t much to it. It’s a map, but there ain’t much detail. I’ve always told myself–” He stopped. I looked at him, and I recognized that look. It was the same look I’d given my parents when I’d come out. There were words he’d guarded zealously, probably for years, but something inside him told him it was time to let it out. I could practically watch them rise from his hooves to his mouth. When they got there, he didn’t so much say the words as finally let them go. “I’ve… told myself that when I find where I belong, I’m gonna get the map finished. Get the topography filled in, add some details, and put a big, red X right where my house is. I…” He looked up at me with those sparkling, golden eyes. “I really hope it’s here, Braeburn.”
A tear welled up in my eye. “I hope it is, too, Bronze.”
Bronze sat up. He shook his head and smiled at me as he sniffed. "Made of gold," he mumbled. He reached for my injured foreleg.
I flinched.
And his ears immediately drooped. "Yeah, I… I suppose I deserve that."
I panicked, and I felt like I’d broken his favorite piece of crystal. "Sorry, Wings. Just… tender."
"Yeah. Sure." He looked me up and down, and the gears turned. "I'm gonna make us dinner. Carrot hash sound good?"
I was desperate to change the subject. "Uh, sure! Need help scrubbin’ the veggies?"
Bronze shook his head. "You just relax and sober up, Applebutt."
I waved a hoof at him. "Aw, I was just foolin' earlier. I can stand."
"Braeburn, please. I…" He looked at my leg again. "I owe it to ya',” he sighed, and he didn’t move.
“What’s wrong, Wings?” I stroked his cheek.
“Braeburn, cutie, I… I don't want you to be afraid of me.” He gestured to himself with a hoof. “I’m big and intimidating. I get that. And I made a terrible, terrible mistake. But I want you to believe I'm not gonna do that again.” He made sure we had eye contact. “Because trust me, on my heart: I won't."
I sighed. "I'll work on it, hon."
He looked at me and let our eyes linger on each other. "That's okay.” With an awkward shuffle, he crawled over me, stood up next to the couch, and gave me a kiss. “You take your time, because I'll show you: I'm better now."
I smiled warmly. "I thought you said ponies don't change?"
He paused. He thought. He smiled back at me. "That I did." He turned towards the kitchen. "What a dumb thing to believe."
My home felt bright that evening. It felt brighter most of the time, in fact. There was always a shadow that followed Bronze from then on, a little fear of him that he’d snap again. The way he was acting, though, and wanting to make it right, that fear got smaller and smaller.
And for a good while there, Bronze kept his word. He was a model coltfriend. He took care of me while I healed, took on extra chores, and hardly ever complained. He was gentler. Kinder. Happier.
And when my leg was better, we had all sorts of adventures. I kept pushing him to be a bigger part of the community. He resisted at first, with his whole grumpy “outsider” beliefs, but he changed his tune after I finally got him on the line dancing floor. Pridesong is a wonder with that guitar of his, and once Bronze learned the steps, his natural grace was an absolute hit. He even made a few of the mares swoon with his swagger, but he was quick to give me a kiss so none of their stallions would feel threatened.
I could go on and on about our time together. The five-day camping trip we went on, just the two of us, where Bronze got to show off his survival skills. Skulking around Appleloosa at night to sneak some sugar. Winning that couples’ rummy tournament. Prepping the orchard for any cold snaps. Showing him how to press cider and having the whole scene turn into a trashy romance novel that left us sweaty and laughing our butts off.
Those were a good few months. Some of the happier moments of my life were in there, and I could talk your ear off about them. But, at the same time, I’m afraid to, because of what it might mean to dwell on them.
But there was one night, right before Hearth’s Warming, when we were prepping for the trip to Haulahay to see my parents. We had a little tree set up, and even though we agreed to not get too crazy with gifts, we each had a couple packages to unwrap.
We sat on a rug on the floor like excited foals. The tree was right near us, and even though I didn’t have a fireplace, the wood stove was glowing bright inside to keep us warm, and it felt just like Hearth’s Warmings past. Bronze insisted I start. There were two packages for each of us, and I got the obvious, bottle-shaped one out of the way first. I started carefully undoing the string and unfolding the paper.
Bronze chuckled. “What, afraid of ripping it?”
I gave him a little smirk. Smugly, I said, “I can reuse this paper for transport to Haulahay.”
Wings laughed out loud. “Applebutt, it’s Hearth’s Warming! Live a little.”
“Waste not, want not, Wings. Besides, it’s my gift, so I’m gonna do what I want, so nyeh.” I stuck my tongue out at him.
Bronze rolled his eyes, all smiles, and he said, “Alright, alright, but I ain’t gonna follow those rules today.”
Once the paper was loosened up, I pulled out a beautiful glass bottle with the sloshing, golden liquid inside. “Oh, wow! Cinnamon whisky? Haha! Afraid it wouldn’t burn enough going down?”
Bronze hugged my side and said, “Eh, just figured I’d get somethin’ a bit more festive. Same makers as the, well, just look at the label.”
I took a closer look. “Premium cinnamon-infused whisky from the makers of… Cannon Creek! Wings, that’s my favorite rye! How’d you know?”
“I pay attention,” he said with a wink. “Do you like it?”
I was already uncorking it to try. “Let’s find out.” I took a pull, and oh my stars, it was just about the best thing I’d ever tasted. Rich, bold fullness of the rye with its characteristic peppery flavor, but turned up about eight notches with the addition of the cinnamon. That cinnamon hit strong, but the syrupy sweetness of it all kept the spice levels in check. “Holy hell, that’s like liquid candy! Wings, you gotta try this!”
Bronze shook his head. “It’s all for you, cutie.”
“Aw, you ain’t gettin’ off that easy.” I pushed the bottle to his chest.
He accepted, took a pull, and his eyes shot open. “Damn, you weren’t kidding. Hoo!” He exhaled, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth. “Good strong spice on that. Fuck, we could kill locusts with this.”
I laughed. “Like hell we will. This bottle’s ours.” He passed the bottle back, and as tempted as I was to keep drinking, I wanted to save it as long as possible. “Okay, now you open your first one. It probably ain’t a surprise.”
Bronze gave me a cheeky grin. “Oh, this?” He held up another obvious bottle in brown paper. “Probably a deed to the orchard, if I had to guess.” There was a pregnant pause, but… not a bad one. He saw my giddy grin and gave me a side eye, but then he tore into his gift with the fervor of a colt on his birthday. “Oh, shit! Aviator had a reserve this year?”
It was his favorite gin brand, and I’d managed to secure a special release bottle. He practically ripped the cork out and took a big drink. His eyes rolled back in his head as pure pleasure washed over his face. “Fuck me, that’s heavenly.” He blinked a few times and looked at me. “That’s… wow, that’s getting me going.” He was flushed already, and from the way he looked at me, it wasn’t just the liquor. I could see in his eyes that he had a plan. “Here, take a taste.”
I wasn’t going to refuse, and when that gin hit my throat, it was like tasting all the colors of summertime. Flowery herbs, a hint of summer spices, and just a touch of lemon, of all things. Bright and fresh and beautiful. I gave him the bottle back, and my eyes fluttered. “Damn, that’s fine. Wouldn’t mind another taste of that, no sir.”
Bronze wore a devilish smile. He corked the bottle, set both the liquors far away from hoof’s reach, and leaned over onto me. “Then have another.” He tackled me into a strong, deep kiss, and we collapsed onto the rug and made love, right there by the tree and the stove.
It was probably an hour later when we’d finally caught our breath, holding each other. I snickered. “Ha! Well, they do say the best gifts are the ones you can’t wrap!”
Bronze’s chest rumbled with a laugh, and he stroked my mane. “Yeah, I suppose they’re right.” He yawned. “But we should still finish unwrapping before we retire.”
I agreed, and we were too tired to sit up, so we just cuddled and awkwardly opened our gifts on our backs.
As I tore into my second, Bronze laughed. “Not saving the paper this time?”
“Ha! Wings, you wore me out too much for that.” I threw the paper to the side, and there were three objects in it. The first two were open-top boxes with little copper plaques on the front labeled “In” and “Out.” I cooed, “Aw, you got me organizers!”
Bronze kissed my cheek. “I made you organizers.”
That stunned me. “You made these?” I looked them over again with a new appreciation for the craftsponyship. They weren’t professional-grade, but they were damn pretty and very solid. “How’d you find the time? Or the tools?”
Suave as ever, he said, “Slate’s a good pony, Braeburn. He let me borrow some.”
“Well, I’m mighty impressed, love.” I squealed. “Yeehaw! No more messy piles of paper for me! Thank you so much! And what’s this?” I took a little, whittled figure of a pony out of one of the boxes. It stood in a three-point pose. The mane was stained partly orange, and the hat and vest were medium brown. “Is this… me?”
Bronze nodded. “That one’s for your parents, but I wanted to get your approval. It’s to remind them of their wonderful son. Think they’ll like it?”
I clutched the little Braeburn to my chest. “Wings, they’ll love it. This is something special, you know that?”
Bronze nodded. “I do, but they’re special ponies, and so are you.” He kissed my forehead.
I held onto his hoof. “Well, you are, too, Bronze. And I want you to know how much you mean to me.” I reached over and got his other gift, small and flat, and I gave it to him. “Go on.”
Bronze tilted his head at me. He opened the package quickly again. Inside, he found a flat piece of wood with three words carved nicely onto it. “Ruddy, Nosegay, and Bud.” His ears flicked, and he looked at me. I grinned back as the gears turned in his head. “Those names are familiar. They…” His eyes opened wide as it hit him. “Braeburn, ain’t those three of your trees?”
I nodded. “Indeed they are.”
He held up the piece of wood in front of his face. His jaw was slack as he stared at it. “Are you… giving me your trees?”
“Think of it like a probationary trial, Wings.” I cuddled up next to him. “I figure, we’ve all got to start somewhere, so I can help you learn proper tree care with those three. They’re from the patch that you watered right after you moved into town, so in a way, you’ve already started.”
Bronze turned his head and looked at me. “Applebutt, this–” His voice cracked. His eyes were wet.
I swallowed as I teared up, too. “Aw, now you’re gonna get me goin’, too.”
His jaw quivered. He sobbed, just a tiny bit, then rolled to the side and hugged me tight with his strong forelegs. He buried his face in my mane. “Thank you, Applebutt. This… This means a lot.” He sobbed again and tried to muffle it in my neck. “And I’ll take real good care of ‘em, love. I really will.”
I felt like I had everything I wanted. I stroked his face. Gently as I could, I whispered, “I know you will, Wings. And you’d better. Heh. I’ll be mighty sore if you kill ‘em.”
We shared a laugh. We shared warmth there on the floor, surrounded by tokens of our feelings for each other. What we felt that night was as real as anything you can name. It didn’t matter how we’d failed each other or the problems we still had to work out. We had what we needed. We were deeply, madly in love, holding onto our perfect moment of bliss. We fell asleep like that, heart to heart, so tangled up in each other that we might as well have been one pony.
…
Do you get why it's so hard yet?
Being with somepony like him… like Bronze, he had good moments, too. And the good outnumbered the bad. It's a mighty difficult thing to hate a pony when nearly all of the time, they're wonderful. You can love the ninety-eight percent and be deathly afraid of the two percent. But ponies ain't mathematics. You can't separate it out like that, not really. You just end up loving and fearing them at the same time. It’s two entirely conflicting feelings that shouldn’t be able to coexist, and yet, they do.
I wish I'd sought help sooner. I wish I'd escaped him sooner. And yet, I'm grateful for all that Bronze taught me, and if he hadn't done what he'd done, I'd never have met Soarin', the true love of my life. So what's the answer? Big Blue tried to elucidate it once, and he stepped on his own tongue more than a stampede stomps a stretch of land. I ain't gonna try to do better, because I can't.
So I’ll ask you again: what is “the truth?”