Drop
There was a mare in the mirror staring back at him.
Braeburn’s hooves scrabbled against the floor, and he shouted out in surprise. There was a mare in the mirror staring back at him. A mare, pale yellow. Underneath a crooked Stetson, her blond mane flowed out over her face, covering a side of it and hiding one of her eyes. She was slender, yet toned, her face boyish enough that one might mistake her for a colt were it not for the subtle softness of her features. In between the buttons of a leather vest, a rusted amulet laid upon her chest, not glowing, or morphing, or anything to suggest it’s magical nature, simply speaking of power by being there.
Braeburn panted, in time with the mare in the mirror. He slowly rose again to shaky hooves, in time with the mare in the mirror. He placed a hoof against the hoof the mare in the mirror placed against the glass.
“I’m a mare.”
He said it underneath his breath, as if he hoped it would snap him out of a dream he might have been having. Just to make sure, Braeburn bit his lower lip. Pain, then a copper taste. Slowly, Braeburn backed away from the mirror, shaking his head. That was him. He… She… Something. The amulet had… He was a…
“I’m a mare,” she said, as if it would make it untrue. “I’m a mare…”
Braeburn looked down at the amulet, pawing at it gently, feeling it bump against her breast.
“...This…”
She pawed at it again. Done Deal wasn’t joking. Her body still ached from the transformation, and she could feel little tingles flowing through her body. Tingles of magic, finishing up the change. It had worked. Sweet Celestia, had it worked, and had it hurt, but it had worked.
She. Braeburn was a she now, and good Goddess, it felt good for some reason. She looked over herself in the mirror, fear and apprehension turned to curiosity.
Braeburns hips had widened. The stocky, built legs of the stallion before were replaced by the slim, graceful dancer’s legs. Said legs held up a slim, streamlined body, sleek, toned, athletic. Her long neck stood tall, confidently holding up a face that even the stallion-seeking Braeburn had to admit was hard to ignore. It was his face, doubtless– the same boyish jawline, but with a new feminine touch, his nose smaller, blood smeared across it.
Braeburn raised a hoof and wiped her face with the back of it. Her face. His nose had stopped bleeding. Her nose remained.
She was a mare. Whatever the amulet had set out to do, it had worked. There was only one word that could fit the situation.
“Wow…”
“Cousin Braeburn!”
Braeburn’s eyes widened. Of course. She had completely forgotten about Applebloom. Now the filly was back, probably with help. Her eyes flitted around the room, desperately searching for some sort of escape. Too much to explain.
“Cousin Braeburn, I couldn’t find Applejack!”
Braeburn kept quiet, ignoring Applebloom, pacing back and forth. If she jumped out the window, she might break her legs from the fall, or hit the ground weird and not be able to get up. Hiding in the closet was moot– Applebloom wasn’t dumb, and would most likely look there. His silence was met by a trio of voices, whispering outside the door.
“He’s dead! I’m sure of it!” a scratchy, cocky voice said, seemingly excited at the prospect of a corpse.
“Scootaloo, shut it!” Applebloom grunted angrily.
“I’ve heard that ponies poop themselves when they die! It smells like poop out here!” Scootaloo cried.
“Well, maybe ya shouldn’t have run through the pigpen on the way here!” Applebloom grumbled.
“I did not!”
“Then what’s all that mud?!”
“I did not!”
“Answer the question!”
“Girls!” the demure voice cried, squeaking at the peak of the word. There was a bit of quiet then, presumably because Applebloom and Scootaloo were now paying attention to the musical one. Said voice cleared her throat.
“There’s a pony in there in serious pain, and you’re out here arguing! You should be ashamed of yourselves! We gotta get into that room!”
“No!” Braeburn cried.
In her new voice.
Aw, hell. Braeburn’s hooves shot to her mouth and covered it, muffling out any other noise that was to come from it, but it was too late. The damage was done.
The musical voice stifled an off-key scream.
Scootaloo giggled. “Holy cheese curls, AB! It’s a break-in!”
Applebloom had no response, though Braeburn knew that she was most likely shocked and confused into silence. A few more moments passed, filled with the musical voice’s panicked squealing underneath a hoof, Scootaloo’s giggles, and Applebloom’s stunned silence. All of them were unsure of what to do with this new development.
“Girls, huddle.”
Braeburn paced across the room, debating her options as the girls debated theirs in the opposite room. Closet, moot, window, moot, under the bed, moot. Braeburn considered shooting so fast out the door that the girls wouldn’t notice her changes, but even that was unlikely to be very effective, considering that they had heard his new voice already.
There was nothing. Nothing but to accept his new fate. After all, nopony said he had to keep it a secret.
She still felt, in the back of her head, that if he were to go out there as she was, things would go horribly wrong. Braeburn turned towards the door, sighing. It wasn’t as if Applebloom and her friends had given her a choice, anyways.
“Whoever’s in there, we’re a comin’ in!”
“Alright,” Braeburn murmured. Murmured. Mares murmured. Stallions muttered. She slowly trotted towards the door. There was more whispering.
“What are we doing?” the musical voice whispered.
Applebloom chuckled. “Sweetie Belle, we’re gonna catch that robber right in her lil’ tracks! Just do what I do, Crusaders!”
Floorboards creaked on either side of the door. Braeburn continued her melancholic march, swallowing.
“Last chance! We’re comin’ in!” Applebloom cried, trying desperately to put some growl in her voice, but only sounding kind of like she had a cold, which put Scootaloo in tears and made Sweetie Belle one stifle a giggle.
“Shaddup, Scootaloo! Help me out with this! Cutie Mark Crusader Bounty Hunters go!”
“More like Cutie Mark Crusader Bounty Hunters and a Bonehead! Ahahahaha!”
Braeburn unlocked the door, holding the knob, swallowing down the last vestiges of her fear.
“Scootaloo…”
“Alright, sorry. I’m in position.”
“Me too!” Sweetie Belle cried enthusiastically.
Here went everything.
“Ready?!”
She turned the knob.
“One, two, three!”
She opened the door.
Three pairs of tiny hooves slammed into Braeburn’s chest, knocking the wind out of her. She staggered back, while the trio of fillies that had delivered the attack staggered forward, both parties falling flat. Sweetie Belle recovered first, jumping up into the air and stabbing it with an accusatory hoof, pointed square at Braeburn.
“Stop right there, criminal scum!”
“Yeah, stop! What makes you think you can barge into our extra room?! There ain’t even anything here!” Applebloom accused.
“Yeah! If I was gonna lift this place, I would have just busted down the front door! Because that’s awesome!” Scootaloo growled. “And what you did was lame and cowardy!”
“I’m gonna give you twenty seconds to skedaddle ‘fore I make ya skedaaa… Daddle…”
Anything else on anypony else’s lips died upon them. Three fillies gazed upon a familiar-seeming mare, who gazed right back, looking each of them over, both parties breathless. Cautiously, Applebloom took a step forward, her friends on her six, slowly approaching the mare on the other end of the room. Braeburn looked away, shame deep in her cheeks and tears in her eyes.
“Cousin Braeburn?...”
Applebloom raised a hoof towards Braeburn, but she recoiled away. The little yellow hoof hung listlessly.
“Cousin Braeburn… You’re…”
“A mare,” Braeburn sobbed.
Applebloom took a few steps closer, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle flanking her, looking upon Braeburn. When she raised her head, she saw three little awestruck faces.
“...How? I mean, you were a… A colt before! How did you…”
Braeburn sighed. “It’s a long story…”
“...Wow.”
There was a silence between the four of them, making Braeburn squirm, making him want more than anything to leave.
“How’d you do it?” Scootaloo asked, tilting her head.
“Said before it’s a long story,” Braeburn murmured.
“Wow,” Sweetie Belle gasped, “you’re really pretty…”
Braeburn sighed. “I… I guess.”
“Why on earth would you want to be somethin’ you weren’t born as?” Applebloom muttered, raising the hoof towards Braeburn’s face again. She smacked it away, fire in her eyes, and Applebloom pulled back the hoof and started backing away. Braeburn swallowed, regaining what little control she had before, trying to swallow down the mixed emotions of this confession.
“I… Applebloom, I…”
There was no way out.
“I’m in love!” Braeburn blurted, covering her face with her hooves and sobbing. “I’m in love, and I’m all stupid, and I b-bought this amulet thing, this thing, because I thought that he-he’d love me back if I… If I did whatever it did, and turns out, it turned me into a… A…”
“A mare,” Scootaloo breathed.
“Wait, he?” Applebloom said, raising an eyebrow. “But… I mean, you’re a colt, right? How…”
Braeburn sobbed. “Applebloom… I’m sorry. I don’t need to burden your folks any longer. I’m gonna pack up and… And just go.”
“No!”
Braeburn raised her head towards the squeaky voice of Sweetie Belle, and saw the squeaky clean face of Sweetie Belle, her mouth open in shock and her eyes sparkling with indignation.
“Sweetie Belle,” Scootaloo warned, but was cut off by Sweetie trotting towards Braeburn with determination in her eyes.
“I don’t care if you were a colt,” Sweetie Belle said. “I really don’t, because you’re not a colt now! You’re a mare, and you’re in love with a stallion!”
Applebloom breathed out, shaking her head. “Sweetie, we’ve messed with other pony’s love lives enough–”
“We tried to force that one!” Sweetie Belle corrected. “Braeburn– No, I’m not calling you that! That’s a stallions name, and you need a good mare’s name! Uhhhm, Brae! We’ll go with that for now and see if it sticks! Are you okay with that?”
“I… I… Yes,” Brae murmured sheepishly.
“Do you love a stallion?”
“I…” Brae’s eyes filled with tears. “I… Yes.”
“Sorry? I can’t hear you!”
“...I… I love a stallion.”
“Scream it out loud!” Sweetie Belle squealed.
“I love a stallion!” Brae cried to the heavens, before burying her face in tears again. “I love a stallion, and I’m all stupid for lovin’ a stallion! Auntie Orange was right, I’ve got something wrong in the head, because it’s never, i-it’s never, n-never…”
Sweetie Belle jumped into Brae’s lap and pulled her into a gentle embrace.
“Don’t cry, Brae,” Sweetie Belle said. “Whatever you do, don’t cry. Be strong! You’ve got a chance!”
“Isn’t that what your sister says every morning into the mirro–”
Scootaloo was cut off by a hoof stuffed into her mouth. The pegasus filly’s eyes went wide, before she spat out the offending extremity and kept her piece.
“Brae… You’ve got more of a chance then my sister does,” Sweetie Belle grunted, gently wiping one of her hooves off on Scootaloo’s wing, a gesture Scootaloo chose to ignore. “My sister… She’s got a lot of trouble even finding a stallion, and she isn’t really that great at… Lovey stuff. But you? You know what you want!”
“Yeah!” Applebloom cried. “You just need to tell him!”
“I already did!” Brae sobbed. “B-But he… I…”
“Wrong!” Sweetie Belle cried. “You haven’t as a mare!”
“...I’m sorry?”
Sweetie Belle sighed. “You went to him as a stallion, right?”
“Right,” Brae sniffed.
“So maybe he isn’t looking for a stallion. But you’re a mare now, right?”
Brae’s eyes went wide, realization flowing through his entire body. She shot up to her hooves, staring down Sweetie Belle. The little filly was surprised by Brae’s sudden change in demeanor, taking a few steps back to regain her personal space.
“Say that again,” Brae said, her voice low and intense.
“You’re a–”
“Before that! What did you say?!”
Sweetie Belle swallowed. “Uhm… Maybe he isn’t looking for a stalli–”
Brae let out a whoop, jumping up into the air, her face cracking into it’s first big smile. She laughed, no, giggled, the uncertainty of before a mere shadow of it’s former self. The Crusaders scrambled, avoiding Brae’s hooves as she bucked through the air, excitement zipping through her body. She spun and jumped and whooped and laughed to the heavens, praising the Goddesses, praising the Amulet, praising Done Deal, praise be to them, they’d done it, they knew it!
“I knew it!” Braeburn cried. “I knew it, I knew it! I knew it! Of course! Goddess, how could I have been so blind?!”
Braeburn’s hopping and jumping and skipping brought her to the mirror. She stopped, looking herself over, looking over the beautiful mare that stared back at her, and let the smile fill her being, fill the entire room.
“It’s so obvious,” Brae murmured, putting a cap on her excitement. “It’s so damn obvious. Macintosh wants me, not as I was, but he’ll want me as I am now! I know he will! I know he will! I knew he loved me, I knew it, but…”
“Wait, are you in love with my brother?!” Applebloom squeaked.
Brae sighed. “Yes! I am! And he’s in love with me! I know it! We just never… He needs me. I need him. And now we can have each other! Now we can have each other!”
She gave the mirror a kiss, feeling the cold glass against her lips, her mare lips, lips that would soon be pressed against Macintosh’s lips, lips that would be tasting him, feeling him, loving him. She hopped away, giggling like mad, practically dancing back to the Crusaders, and encompassing all three of the fillies before they could escape, pulling them into a squeezing, breath-stealing hug.
“Oh, Goddess! Ohhh, Goddess! I am the luckiest col– Mare! Luckiest mare alive! I am! Thank you! Thank you!”
The Crusaders struggled, eyes wide and gasping for air. Braeburn let go of them, and they fell into a heap on the floor, struggling and gasping for precious air.
“Thank you!” Brae raved. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’m gonna go see Macintosh! Oh, Goddess, yes, I’m gonna go see Macintosh! And–”
“Wait a sec!” Scootaloo panted. “Wait, wait, wait!”
Brae did as she was bid, tilting her head towards Scootaloo, an ear twitching.
“What?” she asked, breathless.
“You’re just gonna go up to this guy and declare your love for him?”
“Yeah,” Applebloom agreed, grimacing, “that doesn’t sound like much of a plan. I mean, this is my brother we’re talkin’ about...”
“Who needs a plan?” Brae sighed, her mind filled with Macintosh. “We’re in love…”
“Exactly,” said Sweetie Belle steadily. “That means you have to take it slow. If you just go up to him and declare to the world that you love him, especially the way you’re acting now? That’s not going to go over well.”
“You need to do what Scoots and Rumble did,” Applebloom nodded, a smirk on her face.
Scootaloo’s eyes narrowed. “I… I have literally no idea what she’s talking about.”
“Aw, shush, you,” Applebloom giggled, giving Scootaloo’s shoulder a punch. “We all know you two get up to snugglin’!”
“She’s a liar! She’s a lying liar!” Scootaloo cried. “I totally don’t like smelling that coconut shampoo he uses! I totally don’t like how he feels up close to me! I totally don’t get this like electric shock when we almost-maybe-kinda kiss! It’s all lies, it’s all untrue, and I’ve totally not skipped Crusader meetings so that I could nuzzle Rumble! That’s all horseapples, and Applebloom should especially know it, because I totally haven’t gone ooey-gooey sappy yuck around her and have had to tell her about the way I feel about that cute little colt, because I totally don’t!”
Three pairs of eyes stared at Scootaloo. Scootaloo stared at the floor, blushing profusely and panting.
“Well… Her… Hi… Hum… Hyperthetically…”
“I think you mean ‘hypothetically’,” Brae giggled.
“Yeah. Hypothetically. If I was going to declare my undying love for him? I don’t think I’d do it, like, immediately. In public. You have to see him somewhere else.”
“Like behind the schoolhouse?” Applebloom teased.
“Hypothetically!” Scootaloo blurted, blushing profusely. “Hypothetically, yes. Behind the hypothetical schoolhouse. Away from the hypothetical eyes of maybe a hypothetical pair of bullies, or a hypothetical pair of friends.”
Brae sighed. “I know, I… I shouldn’t just walk up to him, but… Truth be told… I’m a mite nervous.”
The three fillies looked between each other. Applebloom, with a confident smirk. Scootaloo, blushing and looking away with a scowl. Sweetie Belle, holding a hoof over her mouth and giggling.
“Don’t you worry, Brae,” Applebloom said, stepping forward.
“We’d be honored to help you out!” Sweetie Belle squeaked, trotting towards her.
“Yeah, sure, whatever, I’m game,” Scootaloo muttered darkly, halfheartedly approaching Brae.
Brae raised an eyebrow. “I… What do ya mean?”
“You need our help, Brae! I mean, maybe only one of us is even close to being as madly in love as you are–”
“Shuddup, Applebloom,” Scootaloo growled.
“I said maybe, didn’t I?” Applebloom giggled, deepening Scootaloo’s scowl until her eyes were almost lost underneath her furrowed brow.
“But the thing is, Brae,” Sweetie Belle said, gently nudging her fellows, “you weren’t a mare all your life, so you probably don’t know how to get a stallion!”
Brae sighed. “I appreciate the concern, but I think I know what I aughta do.”
The former stallion stood, biting her lip, thinking. She did know what to do, right? Couldn’t be too different then approaching him as a stallion, except with a greater degree of success. A greater degree of cuddling, kissing, humming, loving, breathing in that wonderful smell of coffee and labor and love. Warmth and wonder filling their bodies, until it poured out like molten iron, forging their hearts together, ironclad, impenetrable, together. He couldn’t have it, but she could. She just had to repeat last night. She just had to be ready and willing for success, rather than failure. She could do it.
But what if she couldn’t?
Applebloom was right. She wasn’t a mare. She was a stallion inside a mare, a pretender. She didn’t know how long the transformation would last, or if she had to wear to amulet to keep it going, or how to break the blessi– Curse, it was a curse, Done Deal called it a curse, and a curse it was. A “curse”, quote-on-quote. If Macintosh… Macintosh might not like Braeburn trying again. He might reject it, call it fake, artificial, desperate. That was what she was. Desperate, in need of those strong forehooves, that barrel chest, because nothing could possibly compare, nothing could possibly fill her mind more, make her want him more.
Applebloom sighed. “Brae, c’mon now. We jus’ wanna help. How bad could it be?”
Brae looked up towards the heavens one last time.
Well, her heart could be shattered into a million pieces. The stallion she had always wanted could reject her again. It could rain. But all of that seemed… Inconsequential. The risks were outweighed by the potential reward. The risks were outweighed by the big, warm stallion that was promised if she took them. His love, for her, forever.
“Well, alright,” Brae murmured. “Just don’t make me regret this.”
“Course not! Crusaders!”
The three fillies bumped their hooves together.
“Cutie Mark Crusader Matchmakers Go!”
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There is absolutely no way this can end well.
3277827
And yet I still can't wait for the next chapter
3278789 derp
Brae is in trouble now...
Also, interesting how nopony cared that Brae was in love with his/her cousin. Not that it matters, but it kinda surprised me.
I don't understand why Braeburn is so surprised the amulet turned him into a mare, and it took Sweetie Belle to make him realize that as a mare, he might have a chance with Big Mac. For example, in chapter two, you wrote:
This passage seems to imply that Braeburn goes along with Done Deal because he wants to turn into a mare in order to win over Big Mac.
Anyway, having the CMC try to set Brae up with Big Mac is bound to produce some interesting results. I look forward to seeing the next chapters.
I like this. Now if you keep Braeburn a mare you got yourself a customer. You add in a happy ending for her, we'll get these clothes off and see where that takes us.
Other than the fact that this is a good story, I have nothing encouraging to say so I shall bite my tounge and shut up now. Good luck *hhhnng so tempting, yet so rude* >///< sorry for bothering... ignore me.
Hey.
Where's some more of this?
So if I were to ask if you had another chapter of this in the works, your answer would be..?
My opinion of Braeburn's intelligence continues to drop with each chapter, and yet I still want to read more. He's accepting help from the
Matchmakers. Oh lord will this end in flames.