Braeburn's Tragic Love Story
Love and loss go hoof-in-hoof, but it really is better to love and lose than not love at all. My first special somepony showed me that. I believed that he made me a better stallion, and I would never take that for granted.
It all started with us Apples here in Appleloosa wanting to make our business flourish like the other branches of the family. The Apple family was large, yet close-knit, so word traveled fast and true between us. If ya needed to find somepony for a specific task, soon enough, a relative would be referring ya to the right pony for the job, if not doing it themselves. See, what we needed was a better way to get water into our orchards. I inquired about the need for improvement on a late spring afternoon, and the next thing I knew, the perfect pony came along.
When I say perfect, I mean perfect. He was a cerulean unicorn stallion named Riverdew with a navy-blue mane and tail, and his eyes were emerald pools that I often found myself lost in. His flank adorned a Cutie Mark that resembled a forked stream. Though he was a unicorn, he was no stranger to physical labor. One look at his toned muscles, and every stereotype ya ever heard about unicorns was chucked out the window. Work with him was more pleasure than anything else.
I took Riverdew into the orchards when he first arrived. He seemed very interested in the business and doing whatever he could to help, but I found myself having trouble remembering why he was called to Appleloosa in the first place. In town, I would have been really self-conscious, but it was just the two of us in that orchard. He’d take a thorough look around, as though he was trying to memorize every nook and cranny he could spot. His focus was incredible.
“So?” I had asked. “What do ya think?”
“Irrigation,” he had simply said. His focused gaze turned from the landscape to me. “Let me ask you something, Braeburn. Do you guys have a river nearby?”
“I-it’s a bit of a way’s off, but yeah,” I had stammered. He was diligent if nothing else. It didn’t take much else to earn my respect.
“Then I think I found my next big project. If you’ll have me on board, of course,” he had told me with a gentle, warm smile. All I could do was nod, taken in by a sort of charisma that that grin of his radiated. I grew to love that smile, and every other smile he made, too.
I got him settled in a small house in town, and ya should have seen the look on his face. Grateful didn’t even begin to describe it. His work had started with drawing a diverted stream from the river overtop a map of the local region. Then, he wanted to discuss it with our buffalo neighbors. He almost made it look easy, the way he talked with the chief. He was firm, but respectful. His argument for his plan was rock-solid. He even offered to create an irrigation system for the buffalo. Though they declined his offer, they gave their blessing about digging a diversion for the river. He then said something about how it would also raise the water table at the orchards or something.
I didn’t understand all too much of the technical jargon. From what I gathered, the apple trees would get water faster and Applejack would rest easy, knowing that Bloomberg would be well-cared for. That was really all I needed to know, but I still felt like I was learning whenever Riverdew and I discussed plans.
After the meeting with the buffalo chief, we had gone back to Riverdew’s house and his composure had instantly melted away. He had collapsed to the floor and sighed in relief. It was then, likely in response to the confused look on my muzzle, he had told me he had been nervous, terrified even, that he would mess up and the chief would say no. I told him that I knew he wouldn’t let us down. I wasn’t a gambling stallion by any means, but I’d always be willing to bet on him.
Once he had mapped out the fine details of his irrigation system, we began digging out the diversion to the river that Riverdew had mapped out before. Riverdew’s brain was powerful, and he even had the brawn to put his words into action. He was good with his fancy telekinesis, but oddly enough, he would really only use it to move big rocks. Otherwise, he dug with a shovel, same as me. He knew other spells, too. During the day, he had used magic to hold the water back while we dug. Magic involving water was his specialty. At night, we would dam the water at the point where his magic had done the work hours before.
One of our excavating days was unlike any other. It was early summer at this point. I don’t know if it was courage, curiosity or something else entirely, but something had possessed me to pipe up and ask, “Ya wanna grab a drink later?”
“Are you asking me out?” Riverdew had asked with a dry chuckle.
At first, my mouth had moved wordlessly. Then, I had inhaled and stammered, “I might be.” Instantly, I felt like a fool. A fiery blush burned in my cheeks. I had trouble looking him in the eye.
“Then I would love to,” he had replied, much to my surprise. “You know, you kind of had my eye from the first day I got here.”
“I did?” I had asked, surprised that I could catch the interest of another stallion.
“Yep. Your mane and tail are cute, for starters. I can tell you more later. So it’s a date?” he asked.
“Y-yeah,” I had replied nervously. After a moment of silence, we both commenced our digging. It was quiet; Riverdew had told Sheriff Silverstar that he didn’t want a whole crew and I had insisted on helping him. Riverdew had no objection to that, but was it really because I caught his fancy?
“You don’t think other ponies will judge us, do you?” Riverdew asked.
“They will. Well, some will. Out where Granny and my cousins live, the town is open and accepting about this sort of thing. Here, it’s a bit more of a gamble,” I replied. I heard his shovel drop to the ground, the handle clanging on a rock in the soil, as he wrapped his forelegs around me. I wasn’t expecting to be embraced, but then again, I wasn’t complaining.
“Braeburn, this kind of thing is all about taking chances. If you don’t want to, I get—” Riverdew had begun to say.
“I do!” I quickly cut him off. “I mean…I do want this…I just don’t want ya to think that Appleloosa is a harsh place just because some of the folks around these parts don’t like…this. Ya know…colt-cuddling.”
“Well, Appleloosa has you. That’s good enough for me,” Riverdew had assured me. I wrapped a foreleg around him and returned the embrace.
We had gone out for our date later that day. It was about sunset when we went to the saloon together. What the night meant to us was kept between us. We just talked like friends would and kept our hooves to ourselves. As far as anypony else was concerned, we were just clients getting to know each other better. It was then I had found out that Riverdew wasn’t great at holding his hard cider. Hard cider was Appleloosa’s specialty, even more so than Ponyville’s. It seemed fair to me. After all, they had their zap apple jam. We had the superior cider.
I had taken him home and we’d cuddled for a bit. He’d slurred something about how he liked cuddling colts if other colts were like me. We snuggled on his floor and I pressed my lips to his. Our kiss was deep, passionate and enrapturing. Needless to say, he didn’t remember it the next morning when he woke up next to me on his floor. All he remembered was that he had had an extra dose of warm, fuzzy feelings.
Riverdew had had no trouble integrating himself into the community, in spite of the love he and I were cultivating in secret. In fact, he was the first to step up when we needed to put some extra bits in the town budget. As it would turn out, my secret unicorn boyfriend had been friends with Soarin’ from the Wonderbolts. Soarin’ had been a weather pony early in his aerial career and Riverdew was a rising prodigy in hydrokinetics, civil engineering and weather phenomena. They had crossed paths then and became good friends.
That was all it took. Soarin’ was answering a favor from an old friend and ponies had come from all over to see the Appleloosan Wonderbolts Aerial Show. It felt like Riverdew could do anything, and he did everything from a place of honesty and compassion. I felt like he’d have gotten along well with my pa and he definitely would have gotten along with Uncle Bright Mac, Celestia bless his soul. After the show, Riverdew had introduced me to Soarin’ and we had hit it off well. The Pegasus had even picked up on Riverdew and I being an item and swore on his pinion feathers he would keep it on the downlow. Riverdew had made a playful remark about how Soarin’ was one of those Pegasi who “flew both ways”, which took me a minute to pick up on. Though Cloudsdale was an open-minded city that thought little of traditional ways compared to the winds of progress, Soarin’ had kept hush about it most of his life.
The show had raked in more bits than Appleloosa knew what to do with, so we had quite the surplus for the budget. Riverdew was praised and a mare had asked him if he would stay once the irrigation system was done. The thought of him leaving hadn’t even crossed my mind until that point, but I lowered my hat over my eyes so nopony could see the panic wash over me at the thought of Riverdew leaving. The words assailed my heart like knives. My special somepony had replied with a hearty laugh and said he would stay if the town would have him. At this, I peeked at him from under my hat to see him beaming at the pony who had asked him that. He glanced at me and the gleam in his eyes was even more radiant. At this moment, the whole of Appleloosa dubbed him the town’s consultant civil engineer.
As the weeks rolled by, we had made incredible progress on the river extension and levies, finishing the irrigation system Riverdew had planned with three weeks left in the summer season. We had also grown closer as lovers. In public, we came across as good friends and clients. Behind closed doors, we couldn’t keep our hooves off each other. Behind closed doors, we shared our secrets, fears, hopes and dreams. He was everything I had ever wanted in another pony and then some. I was deeply in love, and anypony who would dare to refute that just couldn’t see it. Of course, nopony else knew about us, save for Soarin’. Our life together was perfect. We’d had disagreements, sure, but they didn’t bar us from one another.
Suddenly, it wasn’t so perfect anymore. I was working in the orchards one day when none other than Sheriff Silverstar came galloping in a frenzy. By the time he reached me, he was out of breath. I had asked him what the matter was, and he panted two words that set fire to my senses: “Riverdew” and “accident”.
My heart sank. Riverdew was on call to examine the boiler at the saloon. It was a special machine with magical components in it to produce the energy to provide hot water to the building. It was a task that everypony thought was perfect for Riverdew. That false sense of comfort only served to slap me harder as I got to the saloon to see a stallion and a mare carrying the burned form of my sweet Riverdew out of the place. Smoke and steam poured out the doorway and every window the building had, and then some.
“What happened?!” I had demanded frantically, looking around for answers. Everypony was staring at me, not sure what to say. I didn’t care. All I could think of was Riverdew.
“Brae, I…” the buff stallion who had helped carry Riverdew out had said consolingly. With one hoof, he took his hat from his head and held it to his chest. “I’m so sorry… I know he was a good friend of yours after he helped you with the orchards and all…”
He was. He was a good friend, but he was also so much more.
“I showed him to the boiler,” the barkeep spoke up, bowing his head in guilt, “and asked him if he could fix it. He told me he would take a look. ‘Bout half an hour later, he comes runnin’ out, tellin’ me I gotta vacate the place. I wasn’t lookin’ to lose bits, so I demanded an explanation. He said that there wasn’t time to explain and goes runnin’ back, horn all lit up. If I’d listened, he… It’s my fault.”
“He…he’s gonna be okay, right? Why do y’all look so grim? This is Riverdew we’re talkin’ about!” I had said manically, a desperate laugh tinging my voice. Everypony just looked down, and the mare who helped carry Riverdew out approached me and gave me a tight hug.
“He’s gone, Braeburn. The magic in the boiler was on the fritz and he couldn’t fix it in time, so he used his magic to try to suppress the blast…” she had told me. My body went numb and my mind was stunned into a shocked silence. Riverdew? Dead? No… No, no, no… It didn’t feel real. It couldn’t have been real! It was real…
Three days went by before we were able to hold the service for him. In all that time, I had to bide my tears and hide my shattered heart from the rest of Appleloosa. I loved Riverdew, but what would the others say if they knew I was mourning a lover? I just lost him; I wasn’t about to lose everything else. The worst of it was the service. Holding myself back was agonizing. Soarin’ came to the funeral, and if not for him, I wouldn’t have lasted. He stood by me as I fought tears under the brim of my hat and bit down hard on my lip. I wanted to collapse and bawl, maybe bury my face in some tissues, but I couldn’t. The repass was at the same saloon where Riverdew had heroically sacrificed himself, and the barkeep assured it was on the house. Soarin’ insisted I ate, but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to eat. I knew I should have eaten, especially since I hadn’t eaten since my eyes took in the sight of my beloved’s body. Ponies had approached me and offered me their condolences for the loss of my dear friend, and all I could do was force a smile and wonder how differently they’d behave if they only knew Riverdew had been my lover as well. It was painful.
After the repass, Soarin’ saw me home. As soon as we entered my place, I collapsed face-first onto a chair and started sobbing. I felt a soft, feathery wing wrap around me and shifted my weight from the chair to Soarin’. He didn’t say anything. He just held me. He held me and cried. We’d wept together throughout the night, holding the unicorn stallion’s legacy to our hearts.
The next morning, I woke up in Soarin’s embrace. It reminded me a bit of the morning after my first date with Riverdew. I hadn’t realized that Soarin’ was even awake until I heard him say, “If you’re ever willing to fall in love again, keep me in mind. For now, though, I can tell all you need is a friend.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled and snuggled closer to him. It was one thing to know something, but it was something else entirely to understand something. I thought Soarin’ understood how much I loved that beautiful blue unicorn. By Celestia’s grace, I prayed Riverdew was watching over me and waiting for my love to take on a new form. For the time being, however, I had simply mourned. I mourned my lover and forced a smile to anypony who didn’t know any better.
Losing a loved one is never really going to be okay or something to get over, but it helped me to appreciate everything I had in life. Over time, my smiles became more genuine. Soarin’ saw to that.
Author's Note
It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.
A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.
Both of these were lessons I learned the hard way back when I was twelve and my dad had passed away from brain cancer. I hadn't even made that parallel until I was in the final processes of posting this story, but I feel like it was worth sharing. At any rate, I've had this story idea on the brain for a while. Thank you all for taking the time to read this.
