You watch from a cloud as a formation of three Pegasi fly overhead in a lop-sided 'V' formation, trailing storm clouds and lightning as they go. Amid the formation, a pony is missing, leaving a large gap in between the leader and the Pegasus farthest to the left.
"Today, we're here to bid farewell to two of our members," Spitfire's voice blares, through powerful loudspeakers. Even from your cloud, far away from the crowded cloudiseum, you have no trouble hearing her.
"About three months ago, while preparing for a show in a small town not far from here, Nighthawk was involved in a terrible accident. Only through the magic of Equestrian medicine did he survive, though his life has forever changed." When they pass the edge of the stadium, the three blue-clad Pegasi break formation. Each makes its way to a separate point around the large building and begins to fly to the center of the arena at high speed.
"We're also here to say good-bye to Fleetfoot. Who has also had to resign her position due to medical reasons." At the center of the stadium, three Pegasi bank and roll past each other. Nearly colliding, but for the skill of their trade. As their dark trails collide, bright lightning flashes through the clouds. Moments later, the rumble of thunder reaches your ears.
"Enjoy the show!" Spitfire says, the wide smile on her face evident through her voice. At that, a column of fire shoots upward, from the center of the arena. It passes directly through the black cloud that has just begun to form from the remains of the previous trick; the mass of moisture is immediately burnt away by the flier's heat.
"Well, at least they didn't use the 'training accident' bit." You look down to the source of the statement and the source of warmth against your body. Fleetfoot lies with her head perched atop her hooves, looking to the shapes of your friends in the distance. As she watches the show, you watch her. You watch the way her mane blows in the high-altitude breeze. You watch the way her body swells and shrinks with every breath she takes. The way her wings shift and twitch slightly as she mentally goes through the motions of each maneuver that plays out before her eyes.
You're glad that those months ago she asked you to go on a date with her. You're glad that you couldn’t bring yourself to say no, even with the ice that wrapped your heart; a fortress built to protect you from the pain you once felt at the hooves of another mare. You're glad that she broke down those walls of hatred and of sorrow, and you’re glad that those walls are being rebuilt with blocks of love and happiness.
You blink, lifting the veil of fog from your eyes. The realisation that your gaze was no longer unreturned hits you. Those wonderful emerald eyes have been locked with yours for Goddess knows how long. She reaches upward, nuzzling your cheek before placing her forehead against yours. The tiniest pulse of her heart can be felt through your coat as you sit, sharing the breath of your love as it encompasses your face. In the beauty of this moment, a shadow of guilt, at your reluctance to rekindle this fire, overshadows you.
A warm, soft embrace meets your lips, burning out any feeling other than the warmth in your heart.
"I love you," Fleetfoot says, pulling away from your lips. Your response is simple, understandable. You cradle her face in your hoof, gently running it over the short fur of her face, and pull her into another soft kiss.
She told you early on in your dating that she would give you all the time in the world to bring yourself to say those words. 'When you are ready,' she would say. Before long, though, you had begun to show her your feelings, even if you didn't state them.
You break the long kiss, roll onto your side, and scoot as close as you can to her. She does the same, snuggling tightly up to your chest and wrapping her wings around you. As your shared warmth radiates through your body, held in by the downy surface of the cyan filly's wings, you rest your head against the cloud's surface. She nuzzles you softly before laying her head down on your neck, completing Equestria's most perfect embrace.
After only a few minutes like this, you feel your eyes begin to droop. Even as the blaring music and roaring announcer reaches your ears from the far-off stadium, the sounds of the mare's soft breathing and the feeling of her heart beating against your chest lull you into a peaceful, warmth-filled sleep.
***
Small, suppressed giggles pull your consciousness back into the waking world. As your senses return to your body, you notice that your hoof rests against the soft feathers of Fleetfoot's wing, and when you crack your eyes open, you're met with a face full of her radiant white hair. You take a long, deep breath, taking in the indescribable scent that always reminds you of spring rain falling in a hollow filled with silver-barked trees.
"Are you awake, Birdie?" asks the mare that fits so perfectly against your body. Her voice is just above a whisper. Though, it's loud enough to send vibrations through your neck when she speaks. Instead of a verbal acknowledgement, you lift the hoof that you had, in your sleep, draped across her wing and bring it up to run through her mane. She lets out a relieved sigh as her wings immediately retract, leaving your body bathed in a mere shadow of her warmth.
You lovingly wrap your own wings around her, still stroking her mane with your forehoof. Without warning, her hooves begin to mercilessly tickle the insides of both of your wings. You immediately burst into laughter and roll onto your back, trying to escape the hooves of your beautiful tormentor. In hindsight, this was probably not the best idea, though. As you roll, your hooves, that still hold her tight, pull the light mare along with you, and now, she's perched atop your body. A smug grin plays across her face before she stops her assault. It's a few moments before you can force your laughter to subside and longer still before your heart stops thrashing around in your chest or your deprived lungs stop aching.
You're still drawing in large gulps of air when Fleetfoot speaks, "Let's go fly, Birdie. All this lounging made my wings stiff." Her green eyes plead with you to comply.
"I'd like that" you reply, noting the obvious relief on her features. Fleetfoot carefully steps off of you and spreads her wings, taking to the air in a low hover. You climb to your hooves and quickly take to the air, following the Pegasus mare as she begins to fly away from the city. After a ways, she turns back to you with a madmare's grin on her face.
After a taking in a large gulp of air, Fleetfoot rockets off, towards the horizon. You desperately try to keep up, but as fast as you can fly, you're not even close to as fast as she is, and she knows it. Soon, Fleetfoot slows, resigning herself to fly in barrel rolls around you. In an attempt to break her out of the orbit she's established, you begin to fly in different patterns. You do know a few maneuvers, after all. First, you begin to list lazily to the left. Though, when that doesn't work, you do a quick loop. You can tell that she's had to speed up to compensate for flying a longer distance, but she still orbits constantly around you with a satisfied grim on her face. A sense of pride overwhelms you as you take in the speed that this mare can achieve without sacrificing precision.
After many more loops, turns and tricks, your coordinated efforts devolve into something else entirely. You both fly with no pretense or pattern, simply dancing around one another in an aerial display of agility. Before long, a feeling of warmth, of contentment, flows through your body, shown outwardly by the massive grin on your face. You position yourself just above your partner, and craning your neck downward, you nuzzle her as your dance continues. With a quick beat of her wings, the agile mare, once again, rolls around you. Though this time, she softly lands atop your back, wrapping her forehooves around your neck in a tight, but not too tight, hug. She begins to flap her wings in time with your own, sending the two of you hurdling forward at an immense speed. You quickly get the feeling that her efforts are meant to guide you along more than to help negate the negligible extra weight.
You maintain your pace, even after your wings begin to feel tired, and before long, you're being guided down towards a hillside in the Swayback Mountains. The two of you come to rest upon a ridge overlooking a lone bridge. It crosses over a large river that flows down from the snow-capped peaks high above you. The entire valley is bathed in growing darkness as Celestia's sun is hidden by the mountains.
Fleetfoot flaps her wings once, pulling herself off of your back and landing next to you. The wind given off by her wings pushes a scent that you can't recognize into your nose, but as you take each successive breath, you realise that you're completely surrounded by it. It's the smell of the forest, the river, and the rocks. It's the smell of the natural beauty that surrounds you.
"We came here on our second date, two weeks after the Prom." She says, lightly leaning against your side. "My parents were so mad when we came back nearly five hours after I was supposed to be in." You can hear the smile in her voice, and you can almost even feel her happiness flowing, from her, into you. "We were still so awkward, so naïve." She rests her head against your shoulder. In turn, you lay your head across the top of hers amazed by its warmth. "Even then, I was so much in love."
After a few moments where the only sounds are that of the river below and of your breathing, you come to a conclusion. The scent of nature that surrounds you is a near perfect match to that of the mare beside you.
As you breath deeply, your mind plays back over every happy moment that you've shared over the last two months. You had shared so many tender kisses, the first being the one that had surprised her, on a cloud just outside of Cloudsdale. You had shared many moments of comfortable silence that you would not trade for the best conversation you've had with anypony else. You had shared so many things, things you could not have been happier to give so freely. But, there's one thing that you haven't done yet.
"I love you, Echo."
Her response is immediate; she scoots away from you. In tandem, both your head and your heart fall, one due to gravity and the other because of the fear that you've done something wrong. As you turn to look upon your love, you gather that your fear was quite unfounded. Tears shine across the mare's emerald eyes. At once, she grasps your face in her hooves and lunges towards you, locking her lips and yours in the most passionate kiss you've ever experienced. Your eyes immediately close as your mind is overcome by the sensation. Her tongue gently caresses your lips before sliding past to join with yours in a war that has no loser.
By the time the kiss ends, your head is spinning uncontrolledly. You're quite certain that your dizziness would cause you to fall over if you weren’t rooted in place by the mare's hooves against each cheek. You venture to open your eyes again, and you're met with Fleetfoot's own eyes, still glistening. Nonetheless, they're still so inviting and so beautiful. She gently nudges your head downward, allowing her to press her forehead against yours. Your breath mixes with hers as you both come down from the high of your kiss. Her forehooves move from your face and slide down your leg, grasping your forehoof tightly.
"Birdie," She begins. Her voice lacks its usual air of confidence, and you can see her nervously chewing her lip. Her hooves lightly tremble as they hold onto yours. Just as you are about to speak up, she continues, "About six months ago," she trails off again, bringing one of her hooves up to your face to stroke your cheek while the other firmly holds your hoof. A deep breath seems to calm her and restore some of her bravado. "About six months ago, we made love."
You feel yourself blush brightly. However, you remain silent, letting her do what she feels that she needs to.
"Though I didn't find out until months later, something wonderful happened that night." Her hoof draws yours towards her body, resting it softly against her stomach. In that spot, the toned muscles of her body give way to a less firm area. It seems to bulge outward ever so slightly and is incredibly warm, even compared to any other portion of the mare's body that your hooves have wandered.
"What I'm trying to say is… I'm pregnant, Birdie. We're going to have a little filly!"
Even from your head's odd angle, you can see tears flow from Fleetfoot's eyes, no doubt, from her apparent joy. You quickly wrap your hooves around her, drawing her into a deep hug. You're not sure about this, but she seemed so afraid of telling you this. Even as you're having second thoughts about the words you had uttered to her minutes ago, you hold her tight, unwilling to pass on any of your negativities to a mare who just told you something so very important.
In your mind, an eternity could pass between each breath of your lungs. Thousands of thoughts rush through your mind, many of which are obvious to anypony who has faced this.
Fear is heavily represented. You've just started to openly accept this mare back into your heart and now so many things will change. And what happens when the foal comes? Will she realise that you're not the stallion that she fell in love with, and that that little filly is the last gift he gave her? You don’t think that you could survive being left by another mare that you feel so strongly about.
Offering reassurance, Fleetfoot momentarily squeezes you tighter.
Dreams of happiness are equally well represented. Multiple scenes play through your mind in quick succession.
Before your eyes, your love sits in a darkened room with just the moonlight shining through a window to allow you to see. Cradled in her forehooves is a tiny filly, wrapped in a blue and yellow blanket. You can hear Fleetfoot coo soflty as she softly licks her foal's mane, grooming it in the same way that her mother did to her. You quietly move over to the two, and as you navigate the small room, emerald eyes lock with your own. A loving smile is all that is exchanged; it's always enough to convey what needs to be, though. You carefully squeeze into the large chair, in which Fleetfoot sits, just before you wrap your hooves around her and pull her into your lap. She sighs contentedly, laying her head against your chest. Against the odds, the three of you sleep soundlessly until Celestia's sun rises.
The crowd pulses around you. It's as if lightning was about to strike, and you've managed to get three front-row seats to what was rumored to be the most spectacular Wonderbolts show in years. You, however, know better. You met the new recruit well before she was even a recruit, back when she was just a prospect. You're nearly as anxious. Though, it's for a completely different reason. While others look to the sky, you look to your daughter Aria. The little purple filly sits atop her mother's withers, grasping the mare's ears in her hooves. A smile grows on your face as you watch her golden eyes go wide. In those spheres, you can see the reflection of a harmless explosion, tinted with every color of the rainbow.
Your last daydream was much shorter, but no less powerful.
Those words nearly broke you. They were one of the best things that you'd ever heard in your entire life, yet they were so simple. You had hoped that your own words were taken just as seriously, because you really don't want to have to wash your hoof off after you put it where you threatened to put it, if they weren't.
Watching your precious daughter walk off, nuzzling against the neck of a colt that you've just met causes you both great pain and joy. It's not until your love gently wipes the tears from your cheeks that you realise you'd been crying.
"What'd she say?"
"I love you, Daddy."
Your consciousness reestablishes itself in reality just in time to figure out that while you were lost in thought, you had drawn your love into a long, passionate kiss. She pulls away, gasping for breath.
You venture to open your eyes, noting the wetness that resides within them. For a split second, an ethereal pink heart surrounded in a light blue aura can be seen fading out of existence right before your eyes. Shaking it off, you turn your eyes back to your mare just as she begins to speak.
"Thank you, Birdie. I was so afraid I would lose you over this, but I'm going to start showing soon, and I didn't want you to find out like that." Once again, you place a hoof softly against the mare's belly, letting it rest against the soft flesh there. After a quick moment, her hoof joins yours. Your vision is drawn down by the surprising sensation of her hoof holding yours, cradling it into her body, but they quickly return to the source of the wonderful emotions flowing through your body. For a scant moment, your eyes lock, and a silent exchange is made.
In that moment, you couldn't be more certain.
In that moment, words aren't necessary.
In that moment, your touch speaks volumes.
It speaks of your fears.
It speaks of hers.
It speaks of your eternal love.
By her.
For her.
And in that moment, your touch garners her understanding.
Death itself has claimed you, yet you found her again.
You will never stop loving her, and she will never stop loving you.