Discursive Formations: romance

by TheRedFox

Rating: teen
Tags: Thriller, Braeburn, Gabby, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 2014

This is not a love story.

They grow apples in Appleoosa. Absolutely nothing else happens there. No matter what they tell you.

Yet another Sofas and Quills Speedwriting Entry. The story had to feature the shipping of Braeburn and Gabby and I couldn't help myself because I love writing Braeburn. Tied with Silent Whisper for first place out of three entries.

Featured on Seattle's Angels 6/6/20!

Published 2020-04-30 18:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2020-04-30 18:50:01 UTC

hell//high water

romance
(or, come hell and high water)

[this is not a love story]

If anyone asks what we do here, you tell them that we grow apples.

The farmhouse was alive with the chattering of ponies and the clink of glasses. Braeburn smiled as he drifted through the crowd, smiling politely at his relatives and friends. It had been awhile since he hosted an Apple Family Reunion.

His wandering eyes eventually found the creature he was looking for, talking with cousin Applejack. He smiled and excused himself from Apple Strudel’s conversation, ducking his head apologetically and making his way through the crowd.

Gabby’s eyes lit up as she saw him approach. She pulled him into a hug. “Where’ve ya been?” she asked softly.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Had to take care of a little somethin’, but it’s all fine and dandy now.” Braeburn turned to Applejack and his smile grew larger. “So Ah see you two’ve gotten acquainted just fine?”

Applejack smiled and nodded. “Gabby’s one heckuva gal, cuz. Gotta say, you picked a good one!’

Gabby blushed and looked away shyly.

Braeburn grinned. “Well, Ah’m glad Ah got your approval, cuz. How are things in Ponyville?”

Applejack’s smile faltered a bit and she sighed. “Reckon they could be goin’ a bit better. Crops are doin’ fine, but the cost of livin’s just skyrocketin’ lately.”

“Ah. Darned shame. You need a hoof?” offered Braeburn.

Applejack waved her hoof dismissively. “Naw, wouldn’t wanna bother you all.”

“Oh, shucks, it isn’t a problem!” Gabby declared. “We’ve got bits and workers to spare!”

“Don’t want ya to overwork yourself again, anyways,” Braeburn chimed in.

Applejack grimaced but shrugged. “Mighty kind of y’all to offer, but we’re doin’ just fine. And trust me, Ah learned my lesson after last time. If Ah ever need a hoof Ah’ll give ya a holler.” Her eyes drifted about the farm again and she smiled. “Though Ah gotta admit, thought it’d be the other way ‘round. Figured you folks would have a heckuva time tryin’ to set up a farm in the desert.”

Braeburn and Gabby exchanged a knowing glance and laughed. “Oh, you have no idea,” Gabby said. “It was a fight all the way. The weather, the sand, even some of the ponies were working against us.”

Braeburn threw a foreleg around Gabby and nuzzled her. “But we got through it, didn’t we?”

“Of course we did!” Gabby laughed. “We always do.”

Applejack smiled again. “Brae, Ah gotta say, Ah’m mighty glad you found someone to settle down with. Cuz, you sure are full of surprises. First you go out and get a cushy job with the government, then you come out here and start your own town? Shucks, that’s more than some of us have done in a lifetime! Your love life wasn’t that much different Ah reckon. Sure did keep us guessin’ for a while.”

Braeburn rolled his eyes and sighed. “Don’t Ah know it. You know they had a whole pool goin’ as to who Ah was goin’ to marry?” he asked Gabby.

Gabby laughed. “Really?”

“Eeyup. They had money on just about everyone, from that one Wonderbolt all the way to Strongheart.”

Gabby’s eyes widened and she grabbed her beak, trying to stifle a laugh. “I’m sorry, but you and Strongheart? I could never picture that in a million years!”

The three laughed, and Applejack punched Braeburn in the shoulder. “Like Ah said, cuz, you picked a good one. Ah can only hope that one day Ah’ll find a romance as strong as yours.”

Gabby beamed with pride at that. “But enough about us, Applejack, how’s your sister doing?”

Before Applejack could answer, a deep, baritone voice spoke up. “Mighty sorry to interrupt.”

“Oh, ain’t a problem,” Braeburn said, turning to the speaker. “AJ, you remember the Sheriff.”

Sheriff Silverstar tipped his hat at her before turning to Braeburn and Gabby. “Sorry to bother y’all, but we got a bit of a problem at the orchard.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Problem? Everythin’ alright?”

Braeburn waved his hoof dismissively. “Eeyup, happens all the time.”

“Wait, what’s the problem exactly?” Applejack turned to the sheriff. “Ah’m a farmer too, reckon Ah could lend a hoof?”

The three exchanged glances, but Braeburn shook his head. “Ain’t a farmin’ problem, cuz. Some of the town drunkards like to hang out in there and steal our crops.”

“Why, those no-good vermin,” Applejack said, voice rising. “Ah oughta go teach ‘em a lesson!”

“Thank you, but I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Gabby replied. “We’ve dealt with them before. Please, just enjoy yourself! We wouldn’t want to burden you with anything! After all, you came here to have fun, didn’t you?”

Applejack nodded, visibly calming down. “Alright, be back soon though, y’here? Ah got stories for ya!”

Braeburn laughed and nodded. The three turned and maneuvered their way through the throng of ponies, down the path and towards the orchard. As soon as they were out of eyesight, their grins slid off their face like water down a slanted roof.

Braeburn reached into his vest pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighter. He offered one to the sheriff, who accepted. “How many?”

“Twenty four,” the sheriff replied blankly.

Gabby raised an eyebrow. “Five more than they told us.”

The sheriff shrugged. “Poor bastards got their dates pushed up.”

Braeburn rolled his eyes, taking a puff from his cigarette. “How tragic,” he remarked dryly. The three approached a clearing on the far end of the ocean, where several shadowy figures were seen in the moonlight. Three wagons stamped with the words Equestrian Department of Corrections were parked, and armored guards were milling about.

On the other side stood a group of buffalo shamen, a familiar face leading them. Little Strongheart nodded in greeting at Braeburn.

“Strongheart. Y’all ready?” he asked in a gruff voice.

“Of course,” she responded, matter-of-factly.

Gabby went over to one of the wagons and pulled open the flap. A few black and green bags were stacked on top of each other. They smelled something fierce, but Gabby had long since learned to tune it out. “Alright, let’s get this started,” she said.

The guards nodded and began unloading the trailers. Braeburn noticed that a particularly young guard was shuffling on his hooves, nervously. “You good, kid?” he asked.

The guard jumped. “Y-yes, sir. First time on dump duty, sir,” he replied.

Braeburn grunted, taking another puff of his cigarette. “You’ll get used to it after a while. Don’t sweat it.”

The guard nodded, but rubbed one of his forelegs. “Uh, sir… I’m not really… sure what all this is about, sir…”

Braeburn sighed. “Well, what do ya think it is we do out here, kid?”

“Uh, grow apples, sir?”

Gabby and the other guards laughed, not breaking their rhythm as they tossed the bags onto the sand.

“Kid, we do a whole lot more than grow apples out here,” Braeburn replied. He used to be sympathetic towards these kinds of ponies, but years and years on the job had worn his patience fairly thin. It was better to give it to them straight. “Whattaya know about buffalo Spiritualism?”

“Not much, sir,” replied the guard.

“Well, they believe that there are spirits out there that control every aspect of life. They even think that these spirits are more powerful than Celestia herself. Their in everythin’: the wind, the water, the sky. Now, they think that we gotta keep them satisfied somehow, otherwise they’ll go around and destroy all of Equestria. Earthquakes, droughts, flashfloods? Those all mean the spirits ain’t happy. Now they had their own rituals to try and please them, but they found out there was only one thing that really seemed to do the trick.”

Braeburn paused, taking another puff of his cigarette. The trailers were almost empty now.

“Now, they also believe that there is a certain amount of life in everything. Even things that we call ‘dead.’ And the spirits, see, they thrive on this… let’s call it energy. Think of it as their food. The more of it we give ‘em, the less likely they are to kill us. You see where Ah’m goin’ with this?”

The guard gulped nervously, pulling at his uniform collar, “I, uh… can’t say that I do, sir.”

The buffalo began opening the bags, removing the bodies and arranging them in a circle as Strongheart and Gabby supervised.

“Then Ah’ll give it to you straight. When you die, you die. That’s what they tell us, anyways. That after you’re gone, Luna will guide you off to whatever path you deserve, and that’s that.” Braeburn gestured to the bags with his free hoof. “That’s a fate too damned good for these ponies. So we don’t give ‘em that choice.”

Strongheart nodded, satisfied. The shamen began arranging their tools and supplies while chanting, lighting small fires underneath pots of a strange substance. Their chanting grew louder and louder as the fires grew in size and intensity.

The guard shivered, feeling a strange wind blowing against his coat. “So you’re saying--”

“I’m saying that Appleoosa is one giant graveyard, kid. Except the ponies buried here ain’t exactly dead.” A small smile formed on his face. “They say at night you can hear the screams in the orchard if you listen closely enough.”

The guard’s eyes widened. The chanting grew louder and louder, and purple and blue lights began glowing around the clearing. The young guard shielded his eyes, but the others didn’t react.

“Sir, i-isn’t this, like, illegal?” the guard protested. “I mean, you’re just… keeping them alive? Forever?”

“In purgatory, let’s call it,” Braeburn replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “And kid, it ain’t our job to figure out if it’s illegal. Ah just do whatever Celestia tells me to.” His gaze hardened and his voice suddenly dropped to a whisper. “And if you’re smart, I recommend you do too.”

There was a silent explosion of light. The resulting wind blew through their manes and sent the sand spiraling about them. When the light faded away, the bodies were gone. Strongheart closed her eyes for a moment and listened. Somewhere in the distance, there was a howling. Strongheart smiled. “The spirits are satisfied.”

Everyone let out a sigh of relief. The guards began repacking the trailer and the shamen gathered their supplies. Gabby approached them, dusting herself off. “What’s the matter?”

“Ma’am,” the guard protested. “You can’t possibly be okay with this! These are ponies--”

The guard was cut off when Gabby grabbed his throat and slammed him into the side of the trailer. “They’re not ponies,” she growled, a fire burning in her eyes. “They’re monsters. They kill foals. They rape and murder and pillage. Don’t you ever call them ponies.”

Braeburn put a hoof on her shoulder but kept his gaze on the terrified guard. “Kid, listen. If this ain’t for you, then Ah’m sure there’s other jobs you could do. But if you tell a soul about any of this…”

The guard’s heart leapt in his throat as his eyes scanned the crowd for help. He found the shamen staring at him hungrily, and his fellow guards studying the dirt intently. And though his heart pounded in his head, he swore he could hear begging and screaming underneath the wind.

“Am. I. Clear,” Braeburn said.

The guard nodded. Gabby released her grip from him and he fell to the sand, gasping for air. “Ain’t our job to judge,” Braeburn said again, dropping his cigarette into the sand and stomping it out. “But at the end of the day we do what we gotta to survive. ‘Cuz come hell or high water, someone’s gonna live and someone’s gonna die. Damned if we won’t be among the living.”

Braeburn turned away, heading back towards the party. Gabby started to follow, but paused, turning back towards the guard and giving a sweet smile. “If anyone asks what we do here, you tell them that we grow apples.” With a cheeky wink, she spread her wings and flew after Braeburn.