Can a town really be home without the pony you love? Braeburn has fallen for a unicorn in Ponyville, and must now deal with the frustrations of being apart from his cuddly stallion.
Distance is the worst.
Braeburn loves his new coltfriend and just wants to spend his days cuddling and talking and playing with him. Only one problem: he can't. His coltfriend is far away in Ponyville, and most days must be spent apart. Will he have to choose between the hometown he has worked so hard to build and the stallion he has been smitten with? Can a town really be home without the pony you love?
It is strange that the same sound can produce so many different emotions. The whistle of the happy train that brings your boyfriend for a visit is the same as the whistle of the sad train that takes him away again.
Braeburn had become very accustomed to that sound, and its attendant emotions, over the past few months. Last September his cousin Applejack had summoned him to Ponyville and introduced him to a grey unicorn mathematician called Hoofclid. That kind timid pony had quickly wriggled into Brae's affections, and Hoofclid was just as besotted with him. There was just one problem: distance.
The uncanny ability of party ponies to travel instantaneously notwithstanding, several hours by train were needed for most ponies to get from Appleloosa to Ponyville. Sometimes one of the coltfriends would be able to leave early and catch the sleeper train, but most weekends the travel put a serious dent in the stallions' time together. And then that vicious train would arrive again the next day to steal one pony from the other.
Braeburn glanced at the town clock in the distance. It was well after lunch already. And the train was seven minutes late… at least. Surely it must be here soon?
Aha! What was that on the horizon? A whiff of rogue cloud escaped from a pegasus? No! It was the puff of smoke from the approaching locomotive!
The train arrived and the passengers began to disembark. Braeburn cantered up and down the platform, greeting anypony he passed as he searched for his unicorn.
"Welcome to Appleloosa!" he whinnied repeatedly, or "Have a nice stay!".
He got a handful of odd looks, but most ponies just looked happy to get a friendly welcome to town. Not that Braeburn paid much attention to the reactions. He was searching.
Ah! There he was! Walking slowly under the weight of his saddlebags, Hoofclid stepped to the platform. He hardly had time to glance around the platform before Braeburn threw his forelegs around him, giving the unicorn a firm kiss on the cheek.
"Is he going to do that to all of us?" a nearby mare asked her companion.
"I don't know dear, perhaps they have different customs here…"
Braeburn grinned at them.
"Sorry ladies, this'un gets special treatment."
"I won the lottery!" joked Hoofclid, swishing his tail.
As the nearby ponies strode off to town, some muttering about needing to find a lottery ticket, the coltfriends exchanged a proper hug, nuzzling into each other's manes and breathing in the comforting familiar scents. Apples on the one hand and, well, apple-scented shampoo on the other. Breaking the hug, Braeburn touched his muzzle to Hoofclid's, but a slight blush told him that his boyfriend was feeling a bit shy for a kiss in public right now.
"Home for tea?" the earth pony asked.
"Home for tea!"
The ponies turned their steps away from the station towards Braeburn's cottage on the other side of the town. Brae started to outpace his boyfriend, the naturally sedate unicorn being slowed by his saddle bags. Brae gestured to them with a hoof.
"You want some help with those, sugarcube?"
"Yes please, that'd—nyeep!"
Hoofclid found himself suddenly lifted off the ground, his boyfriend apparently having decided the best way to carry the saddlebags was to burrow under the unicorn's tummy and carry both pony and saddlebags.
"I forgot how strong you earth ponies are!" giggled Hoofclid as Brae accelerated to a canter, speeding his laughing coltfriend through town to their appointment with the kettle.
It didn't occur to Braeburn to ask why the saddlebags were so heavy in the first place until much later in the day. They had just been plonked down in a corner of Braeburn's house and forgotten about as Hoofclid and Braeburn went about their normal Saturday routine. Tea. Snuggles. A walk in the forest as Hoofclid rambled about the books he had read that week. Then back home for apple pie.
"So what are you lugging around in those things?" asked Braeburn, waving a hoof at the saddlebags.
"Oh!" Hoofclid looked surprised, as if he had forgotten about them. "I brought us some board games to play!"
"'Some'?" Braeburn grinned. "Just how many are we talking about?"
Spotting the blush starting on the unicorn's face, Brae leaned forward to hold hooves with his boyfriend. Holding hooves was always nice, but it was even better when it stopped a cute pony hiding his blushes behind his hooves. Hoofclid levitated the bags over, smiling shyly.
"I wasn't sure what you might be in the mood for… so I brought lots of choices. Didn't want to have an idea you liked and not be able to play. Let's see… I brought Marecassonne, Monopony, Hungry Hungry Hippogriffs..."
Name after name rolled over Braeburn as box after box piled up on the table. When Hoofclid seemed to have finished, the earth pony squinted suspiciously into the empty bag. There was no way that the huge stack of boxes next to him should have come out of that size of bag.
"Did you enchant your saddlebags so you didn't have to deprive me of game options?"
Hoofclid grinned nervously.
"Mayyyyyybe..."
Braeburn laughed. The unicorn shuffled uncertainly, not sure how to proceed after his scheme had been rumbled. Brae gestured a yellow hoof towards one of the boxes.
"Why don't you start by telling me about this one?"
That started the tide of explanation. The grey unicorn was often hesitant at first, but once he got going on a topic he liked, he could flow and flow. Brae rested his head on one hoof to listen, enjoying his nerdy boyfriend's enthusiasm showing through. The earth pony enjoyed a board game as much as the next stallion, but sharing something his coltfriend so clearly enjoyed was the really special thing.
Braeburn chose one of the games that seemed a little quicker, with a glance out of the window towards the troublingly swift sunset. One weekend was scarce time to pack in a week's worth of love.
Nevertheless night was firmly upon Appleloosa when the game ended. Braeburn had lost, never having played before, but the play had been fun and he looked forward to a rematch.
Now, however, there was something more important to attend to. For a few weeks Hoofclid and Braeburn had been reading together. One would read and the other would listen, resting his head on his boyfriend's shoulder. Today was Braeburn's turn to read first, but he got barely a few paragraphs in before he realized the unicorn on his shoulder was not merely resting his eyes, but had finally run out of energy and was fast asleep. Travelling always took a lot out of the shy pony, and sleep did not come easily to him. The soothing tones of an earth pony reading was the last straw.
Dang. Braeburn had been looking forward all week to wishing his Hoofy a good night in person, and hearing the same back. There was no question of waking him back up of course. Braeburn sneaked gently out from under the snuggles and crept upstairs to find a blanket and chuck his waistcoat on the bed. Then he tucked himself back in place beneath the snoozy pony and covered them both in the blanket. A soft kiss on the nose and a whispered good night. And then the yellow stallion settled down himself, hoping perhaps to locate his dream colt in the world of sleep.
"You know probability, right? Law of Averages and such?"
"Mhm."
Braeburn aimed a kick at a stone as he walked. "Then why is it that the train is always late when it brings you to Appleloosa, but always seems on time when it takes you away?!"
Hoofclid nuzzled him affectionately. He knew that reminding Braeburn that there was simply less far for the train to come from one direction and thus less chance for delays wouldn't help. The unicorn didn't want to go any more than Brae wanted him to leave. Still, he tried to stay cheery. Two gloomy ponies was not better than one.
"I keep telling you maths doesn't work!" Hoofy gave a roguish wink, which did pull a smile from his Brae.
The earth pony had still insisted on carrying the saddlebags to the station, but not Hoofclid as well, lacking the usual bounce in his step. Partly the slow walk was to delay the departure. Of course they just had to set off earlier to allow for it, but it felt like longer.
Reaching the station, Braeburn asked the conductor with a hopeful note in his voice, "Don't suppose there are buffalo blocking the line?"
The conductor just looked bewildered. "Why in Equestria would Chief Thunderhooves be blocking the trains?"
"Just a thought…"
A few grudging steps more brought them to the platform.
"I'm sorry that I have to leave, sweetie…" said Hoofclid, scuffling a hoof across the ground.
"Oh sugarcube, ya know I ain't mad at you…" Braeburn replied with a cheek nuzzle. "I'm just cross with that train there… on time again..."
Sure enough there was a puff of smoke on the horizon. Brae surrendered the saddlebags, but he wasn't going to surrender his last chance for a kiss this week. He pulled the unprotesting unicorn in for tender smooch. The train had pulled up next to them by the time the boyfriends pulled apart.
"Any longer and I'll miss the train…"
"That's the idea!"
A shared laugh was a good ending to the weekend. Hoofclid hopped up into the carriage.
"See you next week, Brae!"
"Good bye, my sweet."
And then the train left. As if it had no idea what it was doing. As if its schedule was more important. Braeburn watched it resentfully until it had become a mere wisp of smoke on the horizon.
Thinking that he didn't particularly want to go home to tidy up yet, Braeburn turned his steps towards the local watering hole, the Salt Block. His usual chair had a cider and a salt lick in front of it, but no pony seemed to be sitting there.
"Er, Salty?"
The saloonkeeper, Salty Molasses, didn't look up from the glass he was polishing as he replied. "They're for you, Braeburn."
The yellow stallion cautiously took his seat. "But… how?"
"Every other Sunday you come in here in a mighty sulk just after the last train leaves and ask for cider and salt," explained Salty. "Figured this one would be no different."
Brae licked at his salt block, still watching the barkeeper suspiciously. "I'm that obvious, huh?"
"Braeburn, you know you aren't one to hide your emotions. The whole town can tell when you're missing that charming unicorn of yours."
Braeburn stared into his cider, singing absent-mindedly to himself.
"We're far apart in every way, but he's the best part of my day…"
Salty Molasses put down the glass and sighed inwardly. Appleloosa was a small town, and a new one. The Salt Block had been one of the first community buildings to be built, and formed a core part of the town life. As such, he saw everypony often. Learned what excited them. Learned what put them down, and what might pick them up again. Salty knew more about the ponies in town than almost anyone, other than perhaps the Sheriff. He knew why the usually bouncy Braeburn was licking so quietly at his salt block, and why he was so distracted that he hadn't even taken his hat off when he came in. Fortunately he also had a solution, however temporary. There was one thing that would be important enough to snap Braeburn back to life.
"So Braeburn, you seen how the new schoolhouse is coming?"
"I painted some of the walls there the other day…" Braeburn didn't look up.
"I heard that folks needed some help there today making the schoolyard equipment."
A yellow ear had twitched markedly at the word 'help'. The rest of the head followed the ear, turning towards the saloon keeper, who had gone back to polishing glasses in a pretense of disinterest.
"Help?"
"Just some ponies who are good with their hooves to build some things for the foals to play with."
There was a curious draining sound as the glass of cider rapidly emptied into Braeburn's throat. A hoofful of bits clattered onto the bar and the saloon doors swung. Salty Molasses chuckled to himself.
Braeburn lingered long before he returned home. Doing honest work in the service of the town he loved was a thing worth lingering over, after all. The foals of Appleloosa watching from the sidelines under the careful eyes of their teacher, Braeburn had cut and shaped the applewood for a new seesaw, carefully sanded and polished a dowel for a hinge, assembled seats and hoofholds and painted the whole thing in a cheery shade of blue. Then painted it again after an excited colt learned for the first time that paint takes time to dry. Other ponies nearby were building other things, and Braeburn had a long habit of making himself useful in such times. It was an excellent way to clear your head, especially with the ultimate reward of seeing happy foals using their new schoolyard for the first time.
It was thus a much cheerier stallion that returned home than had stomped into the Salt Block that afternoon. A well practiced motion frisbeed his hat onto its stand. Surveying the room, Braeburn sighed slightly. There was always a fair amount of tidying to do after a visit from Hoofclid. It was his own fault of course. It had become almost a tradition for Hoof to offer to do the washing up or help tidy something, only for Braeburn to refuse him. There were better ways to spend a visit than cleaning, he said. Like wrapping your boyfriend in hugs so he can't escape and do the dishes.
Brae did the easier jobs first: taking the blanket upstairs that they had slept under, clearing the plates and pie dish from lunch… and then there was his least favourite job. He had to clean and put away his teapot.
Like most ponies in the hot landscape of Appleloosa, Braeburn had never really been a big tea drinker. In fact he hadn't even been able to buy a teapot here, he had had to send away for one. Twice, in fact, since the mail pony had brought him a potted tea plant the first time. But tea was something Hoofclid drank often, and since he had introduced the earth pony to it, drinking tea was very much something they did Together. Braeburn didn't really like making tea just for himself, nor did he like seeing the pot abandoned on the side for days at a time. So each time Hoofclid left, Braeburn had to put the teapot away.
Braeburn sat down to give the teapot a bit of a polish, then stared at it. He wasn't surprised that such a simple thing could conjure up these emotions in him. His Granny Smith had always told him that objects that are important to you, or to ponies you care about, have a way of holding feelings within themselves. Then you can always get them back again, and your loved ones can never really be far away. A hat, a scooter, a gemstone… no reason a teapot couldn't do the same. Brae squinted. Yesterday that teapot had held the reflection of two colts, happy together. Polish it just right, maybe he could catch that reflection again. Braeburn smiled. There it was.
A yawn reminded the yellow stallion that he had worked hard today and should probably hit the hay. He gave the teapot a fond nuzzle before tucking it in the cupboard. His warm breath fogged the surface, hiding the reflections—but not the memories.
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."
A letter from Hoofclid was supposed to be a happy moment. It would be him telling Braeburn some exciting news that he couldn't wait for the weekend to say. Or maybe a drawing he'd done to brighten his boyfriend's day. Once or twice, a photo from a party. Whatever it was, it made Brae smile.
Today Braeburn just stared at the paper.
Hi Brae…
Just writing to let you know I'm okay… well, a bit frightened. But okay…
There's a bugbear rampaging around the town. Princess Twilight and her friends are on it, but it's pretty loud out there.
Wish you were here.
The horn writing on that last line was shakier. Braeburn read it again.
Wish you were here.
His stallion had been scared, and he hadn't been there. He hadn't known.
Mechanically Braeburn walked to his bedroom and got out the box where he kept his letters from Hoofclid. That was where letters went. That was where this one should go.
But he couldn't do it. Closing that box on a letter was a way of freezing time there. At the end of a happy letter which ended with a "hugs and kisses" or a "snug you this weekend". He couldn't close that box on a wobbly "miss you".
Braeburn flopped onto his bed, tipped the box carefully and emptied the letters out. He would start at the beginning. The first letter, where the happy faces smiled up at him from the photo of the party where they'd met. Brae nuzzled the photograph and began to read.
It was back. He could hear the roaring even from here. He could see the bugbear blotting out the stars in the skies over Ponyville.
Braeburn began to gallop across the savanna. He could see the distant rooftops now. Some were already damaged. A flash of magic lit up the scene briefly, and showed that even the castle, looming over the town scape, was damaged. His Hoofclid was in there somewhere. His Hoofclid needed him.
Brae tried to speed up, but he was hardly moving. The firm ground gave way and now he was running on sand. Sand? Oh no. Turning, Braeburn watched in horror as the sand he had kicked up billowed towards Appleloosa. Growing in strength, the sandstorm slammed into the town. Both towns would fall. He couldn't save them both… he couldn't do…
"ENOUGH!"
Braeburn recoiled from a flash of light, stumbling backwards a couple of steps. When he opened his eyes again, the raging sand around him was floating gently to the ground, fused into glittering specks of stardust. Turning, he saw Ponyville bathed in the soft moonlight, silent and undamaged.
Not quite silent, actually. Wingbeats disturbed the air as a deep blue alicorn landed gently beside the earth pony. "Princess Luna? This is a dream...?" Braeburn asked with a bow.
"Two towns that are a hundred miles apart are both in view, your hooves kicked up a sandstorm all on their own and the Princess of the Night just appeared from within the moon. Yes, it's a dream." deadpanned the princess.
Brae looked back and forth between the two towns, now freed from impending doom. "A pretty messed up one, huh?"
"Trust me, I have seen much worse." Luna wrapped a wing around the shaken pony. "There are ponies whose dreams are knots it would take a legion of sailor ponies to untangle. But I suspect you do not need me to interpret this one for you."
Braeburn rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess not… I already felt split between two places, and that letter really freaked me out… I just hope Hoofclid's okay…"
Luna stood and spread her wings. "Would you like to visit him? In the world of dreams, he is not so far off."
Luna's horn flashed, and a spectral train flew across the savanna and pulled up alongside the two ponies. "All aboard!" cried Luna.
"No trains!" Brae stamped a hoof.
"But I was merely trying to fit the narrative..."
"I've had just about my fill of trains recently! Can't you just zap us there so I can hug my boyfriend?!"
"Fine, but I'm sounding the whistle as we go! I worked hard on this spell!" The horn lit up again, the train whistled, and Braeburn's vision blurred.
Disoriented, Braeburn stumbled slightly and blinked a few times. His sight cleared to reveal a stream. Plants. A bridge. A water garden. A unicorn peacefully reading beneath a willow tree. Brae galloped towards Hoofclid, his hooves clattering across the bridge alerting the calm pony to his presence.
"Brae!" the unicorn called excitedly, jumping into the arms of the oncoming stallion.
Braeburn didn't say anything. He didn't have to. The firm hooves wrapping around Hoofclid, encircling him and protecting him, the slightly ragged breath which calmed as the hug continued… it said more than his words could ever manage.
I'm here for you. You're safe.
Dream time doesn't work like normal time, so Braeburn couldn't tell you how long he spent cuddling with Hoofclid, patting and stroking each other's manes, nuzzling and kissing each other's hooves. It lasted until Hoofclid broke the silence, murmuring, "Are you real or a dream?"
"You could make an argument that he is both!" chipped in a voice that, while wise, clearly wasn't Braeburn. Hoofclid looked up.
"Princess Luna!"
"I must admit, ponies do tend to notice the presence of a princess somewhat more quickly than you have." Luna looked a little bored, but not exactly angry. Hoofclid gave her a hug just in case.
The familiarity surprised Braeburn for a moment, until he remembered that his boyfriend had not infrequent bad dreams. But now Hoofclid was looking at Luna with a distinctly confused expression. "Hang on… I wasn't having a nightmare?" he asked.
Braeburn rubbed his hooves together nervously. "No… I was." he admitted, a few moments before a mightily squishy hug enveloped him.
When Braeburn was finally permitted enough air to speak again, he sighed and looked down at his hooves to avoid the worried face of Hoofclid. "I got real scared by your letter… I just couldn't handle the thought of you being frightened or in danger and I couldn't do anything from so far away…"
Hoofclid stroked his hoof tenderly. "I'm sorry, honey… I didn't want to worry you… I just… I dunno, writing that letter helped."
Brae sighed and pulled his unicorn in for a hug.
"Distance is the worst..."
"Distance is the worst."
Braeburn felt a hoof on his shoulder and glanced up. Luna was looking down at him with concern. She whispered, “A band stretched too far may break. Make sure that you are not stretching yourself unnecessarily.” The Princess of the Night ignored the look of confusion and walked off. “I will leave you two be. Farewell!” A sudden gust of wind blew a shower of leaves off the willow tree. When the leaves cleared, Luna was gone.
“Well that was… enigmatic.” Braeburn stared at the space where Luna had been.
“Yeah, she does that,” Hoofclid replied, nestling himself on Braeburn’s shoulder and stealing a foreleg to cuddle.
Braeburn gave his boyfriend a kiss on the muzzle and smiled down at him. He tried to decode the princess’s words. He didn’t feel stretched? No, that wasn’t quite right. He didn’t feel stretched now. But when they were apart? Maybe stretched was the right word. Was it "necessary" to be this way? It was, so long as the two stallions were in different places. But Braeburn couldn’t leave Appleloosa, could he?
That same question was still rolling around Braeburn's head the next morning. Brae knew enough about brains to know that it wouldn't go away unless he let it out and talked to someone. He tried to go about his usual morning routine—shower, brush teeth, don jacket…—at its usual pace, but he found he didn't want to linger. He practically shovelled his morning oats down his throat before slapping on his hat and heading to town at a canter.
The earth pony knew his town well, and knew who he wanted to talk to and where to find them. Fortunately they'd be in the same place: Sheriff Silverstar would be at the Salt Block swapping the news of the day with Salty Molasses over his morning coffee.
Braeburn was galloping by the time he reached the saloon and crashed through the door. The piano stopped. The ponies stopped. Everypony stared at Braeburn, waiting to see what horrible news could have caused such an entrance. "Heh-heh…" Braeburn blushed and rubbed his neck, "Sorry folks… I'm just here to talk to Sheriff."
With exaggerated caution, the yellow stallion moved to the bar and sat in his usual seat next to the sheriff. He took off his hat and Salty Mollasses passed him a cider, which he took a swig from before speaking again. Salty and the Sheriff waited. Braeburn had declared his intention to speak, and they felt no need to rush him.
When he did start talking, Braeburn said it all. He was never a believer in keeping emotions inside, so he let it all out: the train journeys, the letters, the distance, the dream. Everything.
The sheriff and the saloon keeper nodded and patted his shoulder at the relevant points, but never seemed to be surprised. "It's all pretty obvious, huh?" asked Braeburn.
"You're a pony who wears his heart on his jacket, Braeburn." answered Salty, sliding him down another cider. "You'll be moving to Ponyville, then?"
"I don't know… I just keep thinking what could happen if I left? What if the town were in danger? Like that sandstorm last week?!”
The sheriff leaned on the bar and sighed. “Braeburn, that sandstorm just knocked over the flagpole. We know how to mend a flagpole. What we don’t know is how to mend you if you keep feeling, how did you put it, ‘stretched’?”
Seeing how forlorn Braeburn looked, the sheriff felt something more was needed. “Listen, Braeburn. We all appreciate how much you put into this town. We couldn’t have done it without you. But the town is built now! You don’t have to feel like you have to stay here just to fix broken flagpoles! We all know that if we ever really needed your help, you’d be here faster than a roadrunner fleeing a coyote. Wouldn’t you?”
“Of course!”
“There’s always a place for you in Appleloosa. But you don’t owe us a dime. You think about what you want. What you need. Take your time.”
Braeburn bit his lip and fiddled with his hat. “I’m… I’m gonna go for a walk. Thanks Sheriff.”
As Braeburn left, Silverstar took a swig from his coffee. “You know what, Salty? I think we may be needing to put together a going away party…”
A mysterious voice emerged from under a hat and cloak in the corner of the room. “I sensed that you might. We have work to do!”
Silver Star squinted at the shadowy figure. “Cheese Sandwich? You know you’ve been here before, right? You don’t need to be so dramatic?”
Braeburn sat at the sidelines of his farewell party, attempting to write his letter but getting continually distracted by the activities around him. He had specific plans to tell Applejack of course—that was why he was writing the letter—but he had decided he had better tell his cousin about the party too. So much had been happening and he wanted to get it all down on paper before it was driven out by something new.
Fortunately he had no trouble figuring out the “where to start” question. A posse showing up at your house as you finish your packing and running you into town with whoops and cheers makes a pretty strong impression on you. Overnight the town had been transformed. Banners, balloons, a bouncy castle for the foals, and a gigantic pie which was being served to what seemed like the whole town.
Next had been the speeches, and the main reason for his letter: the presentation. The senior ponies of the town had put their heads together and tracked down what they believed to have been the first tree that Braeburn himself had planted in the orchard. It had been gently lifted from the ground, its roots had been wrapped carefully for transport and it had had a big bow tied around it. A tree from Appleloosa for him to take to Ponyville so he always had a piece of the orchard he had done so much to plant. Braeburn had traced the lines on the bark and he had given it a hug, and then he had remembered that everypony was watching him and hid his blushes behind his hat for the rest of the speech-making. Two speeches really shouldn’t have taken long, but the buffalo had shown up and Sheriff Silverstar thought it only courteous to let Chief Thunderhooves make a speech as well, however long-winded.
Braeburn had attempted to make a speech too, of course. He hadn’t got very far. He had thanked everypony for the party and told them that if they ever needed him, he would be there for them. So far so good. But his announcement that he wanted to give everypony in town a hug before he left had called proceedings to a close as a small herd of foals piled on in a group hug, each wanting to make sure they didn’t miss out.
By the time order had been restored and the foals placated with hugs and ice cream, the time for speeches was clearly over. The bands had struck up, and Wild West and Mild West dances were in full swing. More importantly, Braeburn had a whole lot of hugs to give out, so he certainly had no time to give more speeches!
But now Braeburn had retired to one side, his arms tired from hugging and dancing, and with a plate of cupcakes and a jug of cider, to send Applejack some emergency instructions. One of the town's few pegasus ponies had agreed to deliver it, so it should be there in time for AJ to arrange things. That tree had given him an idea…
Sunset. Excellent. This would be the perfect time. Braeburn smiled at the romantic colours starting to flow across the sky from his perch on the Ponyville bridge and strummed a few idle chords on his guitar. Everything had been prepared. One of the good parts about dating a mathematician was that Hoofclid had a very rigid routine; it was easy to avoid him if you were trying to plan a surprise.
Braeburn stopped his playing and listened carefully. The unmistakable heavy clomp of Big Mac’s hoofbeats was clearly audible now. The lighter tread beside him would be the unicorn he was bringing to the bridge. In many ways, Big Mac was the perfect chaperone to bring somepony to a surprise. He wouldn’t give anything away, and everypony knew it, so they wouldn’t even try to pry information out of him with questions.
Brae started playing the tune he wanted Hoofclid to hear as he rounded the corner. It wasn’t a song, exactly, for there were no words. But to Braeburn, it spoke of rolling hills, gentle streams, quiet orchards, and… home. The picture of home was completed by the two ponies who now came into view. Family and his coltfriend. Perfect.
The earth pony fixed his eyes on the approaching unicorn and gave him the warmest smile he could manage. He didn't have to wait long; Hoofclid had got over his initial surprise and accelerated towards him.
"Brae? I didn't know you were coming today?" Hoofclid's look of happiness was momentarily tinged with worry. "Did I miss a letter?"
Braeburn stopped playing to run a comforting hoof through the unicorn's mane.
"No, sweetheart, you didn't miss anything. Truth is, I came to Ponyville to find something Appleloosa doesn't have. Something I found I needed."
The blush started to spread on Hoofclid's cheeks. "W-what's that?"
"Bridges."
"Bridges?"
"Bridges! What's finer than a picturesque bridge over a nice lazy stream? Lovely place to watch a sunset." He paused and gave a big wink. "Of course, the best thing about bridges is that they're a great place to serenade a cute stallion."
Braeburn laughed at his boyfriend, who was trying to hide his blushy goofy grin behind his hooves. Brae eased the hooves apart so he could give the flustered unicorn a kiss on the nose. “Come with me, sugarcube. I’ve got something to show you.”
The ponies walked in silence as Braeburn led them towards the “something”. Hoofclid knew better than to ask questions about a surprise, and for his part Braeburn was worried that if he chattered too much then he’d give something away. But that didn’t matter. They were comfortable just being together, walking close beside each other with the occasional nuzzle in passing.
When they were so close that Braeburn couldn’t handle the tension any more, he asked, “Do you know where we’re going, Hoofy?”
“The hill with my favourite tree? Where we first kissed?”
Braeburn was trotting faster now. “Eeyup!” He bounded on ahead, wishing fleetingly that he’d brought a lasso with him. But his enthusiasm was enough to tow Hoofclid along with him at a fast trot up the hill. As they crested the hill, it revealed its secret: not just Hoofclid’s favoured maple tree stood atop it, but also an apple tree which was even now having the soil around it packed down by Applejack.
The earth pony turned and took the hoof of his boyfriend, who was looking from pony to tree as he tried to understand.
“The ponies of Appleloosa gave it to me from the orchard there,” he said quietly, “and now it will be putting its roots down in Ponyville. Just like I will.”
Brae paused to kiss the hoof he was holding, which gave Hoofclid the opportunity for a question. “You’re… moving here?”
“Yep. There was a room clear for me at Sweet Apple Acres. I can be here for you now. I love you.”
Hoofclid barely had time to breathe out, “I love you too.”, before he was swept into Braeburn’s arms for a deep kiss. Beneath the two trees, with the rays of the setting sun playing over them, the two stallions kissed as though they had all the time in the world.
