Conversations About Nothing


                                            >She set it ablaze and the fireplace roared to life.

                                            >You watched as the log burned in the hearth, slowly warming the rest of the room.

                                            >Her horn dims, and she cuddles into your side.

                                            >The snow gently piles on the windowsill, and you relax into the mare sharing the blanket.

                                            >Idle thoughts pass in and out of your mind as you enjoy the moment.

                                            >Eventually, the blissful silence breaks as she stirs against you.

                                            >She looks up at you, magenta eyes filling your vision.

                                            >"Do you ever think about death?"

                                            >That question snaps you out of your hypnosis and back to reality.

                                            >And it dampens your blanket somewhat.

                                            >You are silent while you process the question, and she continues on.

                                            >"I've seen many of my little ponies come and go, and I'm saddened whenever I see a friend go. I've not taken consorts before for this reason as well. I worry, too, that at some point, I will forget the memories that I hold of any of my little ponies, or of you."

                                            >You open your mouth to respond, but she cuts you off almost immediatly.

                                            >"Oh, I'm sorry, I just completely ruined the mood, didn't I?"

                                            >Pulling the white alicorn into yourself, you start to gently run your hand through her mane.

                                            >You had felt as though this conversation would come at some point when you decided to get intimate with an immortal being, but you never were quite sure on how to approach it.

                                            >Even now you find yourself struggling to find a response, but you know you can’t just leave her in silence.

                                            “I can’t say that I’ve ever thought about it too much, it would probably be distracting.”

                                            >She closes her eyes and nuzzles her neck into you.

                                            “You didn’t stop teaching or ruling because your subjects were going to die, so why would you stop yourself here?”

                                            >She responds to you with closed eyes, enjoying the heat from you and the fire in the hearth.

                                            >”It has not stopped me from making attachments, and it never will, but sometimes an old mare needs to prattle on about nothing.”

                                            >You close your eyes and relax the tension that you didn’t know you were carrying.

                                            “Anything else you want to talk about?”

                                            >Her silence is your answer as you look out at the snow gently covering the city outside, a white blanket gently easing it to sleep.

                                            >As you continue to look out of the window, you take this chance to ask a question of your own.

                                            >You gently rock the alicorn under the blanket and feel her wings hug you slightly.

                                            “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

                                            >She keeps her eyes closed as she hums into you.

                                            >”You didn’t ever have to do anything, just being yourself was enough.”

                                            >You exhale through your nostrils while smiling.

                                            “That’s a cop out answer and you know it.”

                                            >You can see a warm smile pass onto her face before she responds.

                                            >”That doesn’t mean that there isn’t any truth to it. I’m here with you right now because I want to be with you- not any other pony, or any other human.”

                                            >You bask in the warmth of her words and rising temperatures underneath your shared blanket.

                                            >The two of you remain embraced, enjoying the moment, but all too soon, you feel her begin to pull away and approach the window.

                                            >The golden glow of her horn and light disappearing slowly from an already gray sky tells you that your cuddling will soon be taken to the bedroom.

                                            >You pull yourself up from the couch and head over to the fire slowly dying in the hearth.

                                            >Gentle light is restored to the room as several candles are magically lit, casting an auburn glow onto your surroundings.

                                            >Your mind briefly wanders over to food before she rejoins you on the couch, bowl of assorted fruits held in her aura.

                                            >The silence of the snowy night is only broken by the sounds of chewing, and once the bowl is empty, the two of your realize how cold you really are.

                                            >And as the two of you begin to clean away the the room and retire to your bedroom, you call out to her.

                                            “We really should take days like this more often.”

                                            >You hear her sigh from across the room.

                                            >”We really should. I worry that I lose too many days in a year sometimes.”

                                            “You said it yourself, right? Sometimes it really is nice to have conversations about nothing.”

                                            >She draws the curtains on the window, and begins to take out the candles one by one.

                                            >Between candles, she answers you.

                                            >”It is more important who the conversation is with, always.”

                                            >You stand over at the doors to the bedroom, watching her gracefully stride around the room, as her white fork contrasts the growing darkness of your shared quarters.

                                            >She arrives at your side before the last candle.

                                            >”Have you nothing more to say before we go to bed, my love?”

                                            >You smile at her and pull her into your embrace.

                                            “I’ll always have nothing to talk about with you.”

                                            >You briefly feel her wings return your hug, before the softness of her feathers pull away, and she blew out the candle.