//------------------------------//
// Soarin Loses a Wife 
// Story: Stone and Sky 
// by Visiden Visidane 
//------------------------------//

"Spitfire, you wanna get married?"

Why did he put it like that? It sounded so ridiculously casual, like an afterthought or a passing fancy. He hadn't meant it that way. He just figured that they'd been together for so long, suddenly being so formal and romantic would just be silly. Maybe he should have gone that route. He should have put the ring in a gold, gem-encrusted box, picked a fancy view with fireworks going off close to midnight, gotten on his knees to say "Oh, Spitfire, will you finally be my beloved wife?" or something like that. Maybe if he had, she'd be more impressed with how serious he could get. Maybe she'd have said yes and they'd be in the middle of the ceremony already.

Can't we just stay like this, Soarin? When we're just engaged, everything's a beautiful gift, every time is a date. Why muck it up with marriage? Did you just see those two? They look so miserable. Couples are in love and have fun. Married couples just look deflated.

She had said that with a smiling face. He wanted to agree. He always agreed with Spitfire. That's why she was the captain. Faced with that answer, he had doubted himself as well. Maybe this whole marriage thing was a stupid idea. He did have a good thing going on here. No reason at all to complicate it. No reason except...

"But I was thinking...you know, living together, starting a family, that kind of stuff."

That was probably the first time ever that he persisted about anything with Spitfire. When did he gain the courage? Maybe it was just impatience. They'd been engaged for three years. He spent a fortune on that ring. He had plenty of money for a fancy ceremony. He had a house in mind and the savings for it. He had more than three years to think about this. He wasn't rushing, he was sure of it.

"Come on, Soarin, we're at the top of our games. You wanna drop all that to play house?"

Maybe it was the flippant dismissal of it, or just the fact that he had been waiting for a while. Three years was a long time for betrothal. That wasn't counting all those years of being just stallion and marefriend. All those years of buying dinner, fancy gifts...they had to come up sooner or later.

"I'm just wasting my time, aren't I?"

He hadn't meant to say that. Then again, it was something that needed saying.

"How dare you?" Spitfire had snapped. "You're being selfish! I'm supposed to drop everything for you, am I? I have to be tied down for your fantasy family?"

"No!" he had replied. "I'd never tie you down, Spitfire. I don't want you to be unhappy."

She put on that satisfied smile for having made her point. He had to make his, though.

"So just give me the ring back. Let's call this off."

"What?"

Oh, she went livid after that. Whatever response she had drowned in splutters, snorts, and snarls. It ended the ring hitting his face so hard that it must have left a mark. He should have been heartbroken. The ache in his chest was proof enough. But, for some bizzare reason, he also felt a load fall away. He could barely stay on the cloud they were on when he walked off. There was no time to mull over what he guessed was a horrible break up. He just had to fly. He got his wonderbolt suit on and just took off into the night sky, taking in the odd newness of the wind hitting his face. He dipped and turned wildly, suddenly bursting with confidence. He may as well practice some of the hardest maneuvers in their repertoire, right?

He went at it for the rest of the night, all the way until morning, even. Cloudsdale was a nowhere in sight when reality to caught up with him. The strain was more than enough for his wings. He didn't even warm up before this. A bad air current shook him out of his path. The next thing he knew, he was spiraling downard to what looked like a rocky expanse, wings too exhausted to fight back...





Soarin finally decided to open his eyes. In truth, he had been awake for quite some time, but the feel of being on somepony's bed while being tended to left him unsure. His eyes hurt as they adjusted to the light. He was in a small, rather ascetic room. For a moment, he actually feared that he had been thrown into some kind of prison. He tried to get up, but a firm hoof came from one side to stop him from moving.

"Hey," a really husky, soft voice said. "Stay still. The healing stones are still working on you."

Soarin did feel some pressure of what felt like various rocks laid out on top of his body. These spots were warm and soothing. He had been injured in flight before so he was no stranger to medical treatment, but this was a first. He turned his head slightly to look at the pony nursing him.

A gray earth pony mare glowered over him, bright green eyes intense and unsure all at once. Her mane was a lighter gray color, short, in a no-nonsense straight cut. "H-hey," Soarin ventured. "Thanks for taking care of me."

The gray mare only stared at him further. Her lips remained in a humorless straight line. Those were lips that rarely smiled, he reckoned. "You're welcome," she eventually replied.

Then, silence. The clock by one of the room's walls ticked away while they both balked at conversation. The gray mare looked at something she was holding with one hoof before looking back at Soarin. "Who are you?" she asked. "How'd you end up crashing on my farm?"

A little stung pride-wise, Soarin tried to put on a winning smile. He was so used to instant recognition as a wonderbolt that he had forgotten that, sometimes, he had to introduce himself. "I'm Soarin," he said as cheerily as possible, though his jaw hurt. "I had...uh, a flying accident.

"Not much of a flyer, then," the gray mare muttered.

Ouch. Still, Soarin kept the smile up. "How about you?" he asked. "May I know who helped me out?"

The gray mare leaned forward suddenly and pulled down a lower eyelid. "You can gaz--" she caught herself and moved back. "I mean...my name is Limestone Pie. You're in my room in the Pie Rock Farm."

She sounded so subdued, especially compared to that harsh burst of energy she had earlier. Again, more awkward silence. Limestone looked around, then held up a plate of sliced carrots and apples. "Here!" she said. "I've got some food out for you. Eat up so you'll heal faster."

Soarin answered by wiggling his bandaged forelegs helplessly. Several stones had been attached to them. 

Limestone's sullen, embarassed stare widened. "You useless feather--" she stopped again, moving her foreleg as if she was pushing something away. "Sorry," she muttered. "Let's start over." She held out a slice of carrot towards his mouth.

Soarin accepted with a careful bite, partly because he was feeling hungry, and partly because Limestone might end up beating the crap out of him if he proved even remotely difficult. "Thanks," he said.

"I can do this much, at least," Limestone said. Soarin raised an eyebrow, but she didn't seem like she was talking to him at that point. She offered him another piece, which he delicately took. She wasn't using any utensils, and he was too afraid to touch her hoof with his lips. "Hey," she said after he had taken his fifth piece. He looked at her quizically in response. She was about to hold up that thing she has been holding the entire time, but she placed it in a pouch instead. "You got ponies looking for you? I can try to find them."

Soarin thought it over. There was a show on schedule. The Wonderbolts would be looking for him for sure...or would they? They'd be just as likely to replace him with a backup. Spitfire would likely be all too eager to do just that. Maybe a bit of a break was in order. "Not really," he said.

Limestone raised an eyebrow. "Really?" she asked. No family? No coworkers? No..." she looked away briefly. "No wife or marefriend?"

"Nope," Soarin replied, still grinning. "Sorry, if I'm troubling you. I'll just go as soon as I..." he tried to rise again, but she set him down even harder. The strength in her hooves left Soarin speechless. Who was this mare?

"No, you'll stay here," Limestone said gruffly. "I'll take care of you."

Soarin lay back down, more cowed than relieved. "Okay."