The next few days passed in a blur. There was food - so much food, a glorious cornucopia of delights, all far too tantalizing to resist after days of subsiding on donuts and air - and hair brushes, and soft beds, and things she had missed, so dearly, that she had hardly realized how much she adored them until they were gone. The royal physicians had come to tend to her and Joe’s injuries, and replaced her sling with a fancier, cleaner one. She was scrubbed, wrapped, bathed, combed, and then allowed to sleep, for as long as she wanted. It was heavenly.
But after the meal, after her first, basic needs had been fulfilled - she wondered where Joe was. She missed his playful banter over meals, she missed the way he walked behind her and gave running commentary on their surroundings, and the way he always knew what to say when she wasn’t sure what to do. She even missed the way he smelled, and the heavy tread of his hooves behind her on the road. She missed him. But that was to be expected; she had been with him for days, had been her only companion. She would get used to him being gone, and her life would go back to normal.
Except it didn’t. She woke up on the second day, and thought, I wonder if Joe woke up early to make donuts today, or if he’s taking the week off. She had blueberries at lunch, and wondered how Joe had ever been clever enough to know to pick the nightshade berries to poison the Kelpie with. She brought the moon down in the morning, and wondered if he knew she was the one doing it now, that he had nothing to fear from the night. She wondered if he missed her as much as she missed him.
The third day came and went, and nothing changed. On the evening of the fourth day, there was a knock on her door, and inwardly, she wondered when her servants would just start letting themselves in, like they used to. “Yes?”
“Mrrghph -” Joe tried to talk around the flowers in his mouth for a few moments, then flushed deeply, using his magic to levitate them. “So, uh. Hi.”
“Hi.” Luna murmured back, just as soft, her eyes moving between his reddened face and the bouquet.
“I, uh, brought youse - some flowers.” Joe rumbled, his voice low in his chest, face turning redder with each passing moment. “Night-blooming jasmine. Seemed - appropriate.”
“They’re lovely, Joe. Thank you.” Luna murmured back to him, offering him a small, shy smile.
Joe stared at her for a moment, his face as red as a beet, as he clearly struggled with what to say. Idly, Luna noticed that his mane was carefully slicked down, and his uniform was freshly ironed. Finally, he burst out, “Look, I can’t stop thinkin’ about you, okay? I go home, and I can’t sleep. Can’t make donuts, can’t even eat donuts.”
Luna colored deeply, and it was her turn to look away shyly, ears flicking back and forth in agitation. “Really?” she asked at last, peeking up at him from under her forelock.
“Oh for the love of - yes, really!” Joe chuckled, playful frustration immediately fading. “Really really. So I thought - if you liked me, like I like you - maybe we could … y’know … go out, or somethin’.” Joe trailed off into a low voice, more of a murmur, rubbing one hind leg against the other nervously. “Don’t hafta get married or nothin’, just … see how things go.”
“I would really like that, Joe.” Luna murmured, a smile stealing over her mouth, which was soon mirrored on his face. “Really, really like that.”
“So, uh - you, … like me, too?” Joe asked, casting her a sidelong glance.
“Very much so.” Luna smiled back to him, positively glowing now.
“Well. That’s, uh … that’s … good.” Joe replied, a little clumsily, giving a tiny, nervous chuckle. “I mean, that’s great.” He grinned at her for a moment, the expression so wide as to almost appear goofy, before he lost himself in self-conscious chuckles. “Sorry. Never really done this before. ‘m really - not good at it.”
“I think it’s perfect.” Luna smiled, and leaned forward, pressing her face up against his. “I think you are perfect.”
“Well, I, uh, - I think you’re, um, perfect too, Loo.” Joe grinned, pressing his face back against hers, rubbing their noses gently. “I really do.”
“Thank you, Joe.”
“Thank you, Loo.”
Dearest Sister,
I know you usually receive these missives from your students, but I felt it was appropriate that I send you one, for I feel I have learned many things in these past weeks. I have grown in my knowledge of myself, and in my relationships with others; but one of the most important things I have learned about is love.
I have known love all of my life - our family is filled with it, our friends share it between one another gladly and freely. But I had imagined that love, romantic love, was like how you read about it in stories - brave, loud, obvious when it comes to you, filled with grand gestures and majestic moments that make your knees weak. Because I had never known it, it was strange to me. Love is like that, yes - but it is also the smaller gestures, the shyer admissions, the quiet moments spent together and the thoughts shared. When love found me, I did not recognize it, and so I was not afraid. Love is warmth, comfort, protection and protecting. Love is … him.
I adore him, sister, more than I have words to tell you. And so I am writing you, both to tell you, and to thank you. Without your help, I may never have found him. Although your actions caused me great pain at the time, I want you to know that I fully, wholeheartedly, and joyously forgive you for it.
With all of my heart,
Your sister,
Luna