What a day. What a dull, dull day.
I do sometimes think it lucky that the walls of that hall are a good distance from the throne as the urge to bang my head against them does sometimes press down on me. If I find myself officiating over another boundary dispute tomorrow I may well break into sudden, manic laughter if only to break the monotony. That would put the wind up them, I’m sure.
Though they probably wouldn’t get that it was a joke. It’d only cause me more problems. John would appreciate it, I know, but then he wouldn’t be bringing boundary disputes to me in the first place. One of many reasons I’m fond of him.
I remember when there were no boundaries there! When it was just empty space! Now they’re bickering over where a line is drawn. Important, yes, but so picky. What’s an inch to the side?
A lot, sadly. And so they come to me. Over and over again…
Really, I don’t think things have been any less interesting than they normally are, if I’m being honest. It’s more a case that, after John arriving, I’ve been far more ‘present’, far more aware of the moment and what’s going on in it.
Or what’s not going on in it.
I’m not so foolish to wish that things become more interesting. I’m old enough to know how that sort of thinking turns out. But I’m also old enough to know boredom when I see it.
At least I have something to look forward to in the evenings now. Other than the occasional tea with my sister, of course. Really should pick a day this week for that. I’ve been lax, with John here. Distracted, I suppose the word might be.
I wonder what he did today…
A walk through the grounds did much to calm whatever fraying my nerves might have undergone from a day of hearing arguments I’d heard however many times over the years. That, and it was less conspicuous than simply porting or flying to John. Not that that was a primary concern, of course, but it was a concern.
Hopefully he wouldn’t see or hear me coming. I didn’t go out of my way to surprise him all the time, I just took every opportunity to do so. Hardly my fault John is consistently unobservant and also very cute when flustered. Anyone would do the same in my position!
Honest.
I found the door of his little shed ajar and crept inside.
And there he was, sound asleep on that couch he’d somehow managed to get. The couch that he was about twice the size of, so mostly just hung off, snoring.
Very cute, in a gangling and awkward sort of a way. My favourite way, if I’m being honest. I wouldn’t change a thing.
Creeping over - and cheating to make sure I stayed completely silent - I got close in to him. Then closer still, until I was inches away with him none-the-wiser. I then blew in his ear. Not hard, but persistently.
Very sneaky stuff.
He did not immediately wake up, instead grumbling and rolling over to face the other way. His feeble efforts at escape wouldn’t work on me, of course, and I just moved further over him to keep going. This led to more grumbling and a small amount of squirming.
And his eyes opened.
If he was surprised to see me there looming over him he didn’t show it. Instead, after a moment of understandable confusion over why he was now awake, he just looked happy, which was much better. I’d have taken surprise then happiness, one after the other, but happy always comes out on top if I had to pick just one.
I never got tired of how happy he always looks whenever he sees me. If ever there was a reason for me to live in the moment, it was that. How often did something like that happen? In the grand scheme of things, I mean. Not for me right now, when it’s happening almost daily. I mean in the long term, over the span of years.
Not often enough.
“Hello you,” he said, reaching up and putting a hand to the side of my face. “You’re real pretty. I ever mention that?”
That made me blush. Smile, too.
“I think you’re still half-asleep,” I said, leaning down to give him a kiss on the forehead.
He yawned, bringing up his other hand to cover his mouth. Considerate.
“Mehbe. S’still true. N’real pretty.”
“You should probably try to wait until you’ve finished yawning before speaking.”
“But I have to tell you urgently how pretty you are!” He said, reaching up now with both hands to hold my face, looking at me with dead seriousness. I wasn’t going to let his deadpan delivery get a response.
Or at least I wasn’t going to let him see how much I enjoyed it. Really added something sometimes, with lines like that. Maybe it’s me.
“I had no idea it was so vital.”
“Well then it’s lucky I’m the one doing it, isn’t it?”
He got me there.
It was then I noticed that his arms - and, indeed, not just his arm but other parts of him that I could see - were covered in tiny nicks and cuts. This was not normal, even by John’s rather flexible standards of normal. Removing his hand from my face and holding it in both hooves I looked him over. Definitely nicks and cuts, definitely not normal.
“Why are you covered in scratches?” I asked.
John, who had been miles away, didn’t seem to have been paying attention to me speaking. I think he’d been staring at my mane again.
“Hmm? Oh, that. I fell into a hedge,” he said.
I blinked at him. This was probably some sort of joke. Probably. Right?
He just grinned. Not a joke?
“You actually fell into a hedge?” I asked.
He grinned wider.
“Yep!”
This seemed like a good time for me to move backwards, so I did, sitting down and giving him the space to sit up, which he did. Seemed better to have a conversation that way.
“Why do you sound so pleased about that?”
John shrugged.
“It was pretty funny. Probably funnier to have seen happen. Just picture it! Me! Stacking it!”
I did so. Couldn’t quite see the funny side myself, but then John was an odd one.
“Probably had to be there,” I said.
“S’fair,” he said, looking over his arms himself, turning them around this and that way before seemingly deciding that everything was fine and then sitting back on the couch, looking as content as could be expected.
Presumably - and this was me taking a guess, though a well-founded one I like to think - him falling would have been the result of his leg, again. It did still happen from time to time, unfortunately. Lately, seemed to have been happening more. Could have been my imagination though.
Again, I pictured him ‘stacking it’ into a hedge. Just to see if I had any more luck in seeing the funny side. Again, it slipped away from me. I did not particularly enjoy the thought.
All at once I am reminded of how uncomfortable it makes me imagining him getting hurt. Not helped by John’s cavalier attitude towards personal injury. He seemed to think he would be able to just laugh off anything that might ever happen to him. I was less sure.
Times like this I couldn’t help but picture how he had looked when I’d first found him, and letting my mind wander to what might have happened had I not. He’s more delicate than he thinks he is, poor thing. I just want to keep him safe.
Although by the same token I also worry that this line of thinking might-well lead me into being inadvertently clingy and controlling. I worry about this sort of thing a lot.
“Uh, you okay there?” John asked.
I must have just been sitting silently and staring into space. Oops.
“Yes, sorry,” I said, giving him a smile before moving in to sit on the couch beside him. The couch was nowhere big enough to comfortably accommodate the two of us together and we ended up squashed, but I’d known that going in.
He put an arm around me and I put a wing around him and all at once everything just seemed that little bit better.
“You looked like you were deep in thought,” he said.
“There’s a reason for that.”
“Were you deep in thought?”
I waggled a hoof. So-so, it said, and John understood.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I said. He nodded.
“Ah, paddling in the shallows of thought. We’ve all been there.”
This got another smile out of me. A proper one, one I hadn’t had to think about. And it only got wider when I saw the look he was giving me. He likes me! He really likes me - me! It’s written all over his face! Whenever he has that look it’s so obvious that when he sees me he’s not seeing anything else. Just me.
After a day of being looked at by everyone I had encountered variously as princess, mediator, settler of issues, role model, deity, one-who-is-in-charge and other related, similar things it is...valuable.
I know - I know - that I could lose everything but that as long as I stayed me that look would not change. He would still look at me the same way.
I may have held onto him a tiny bit tighter then.
I just didn’t want to lose that. Not yet, at least. Not without doing everything I could to hold on. Within reason, obviously. Eventually - and this was another thing that I didn’t really like to think about, even if it was unavoidable - there would be a time when John wouldn’t be around anymore, and I would be. But that was years from now, and not worth dwelling on. I just wanted to do my best to keep him safe and sound in the here and now.
So should I put up handrails on the paths through the gardens?
...I can’t believe I even considered that. No, no don’t be silly. Look at him.
“You’re still thinking, aren’t you?” He asked me.
“Little bit,” I said and he tutted, leaning in to give me a peck on the cheek. I might have blushed at this.
No, he was fine. Falling into a hedge is actually pretty funny, now I think about it. Certainly nothing worth getting worked up over. I’m worrying over nothing. He’s not going anywhere. He’s perfectly fine and perfectly safe. Just relax and enjoy the moment - fretting will just sour it, and where’s the point in that? Appreciate it.
It’s what a normal pony would do.
Live in the now, I thought to myself as I shifted about on the couch to get up and just straddle him. How’s that for seizing the moment? Surprised John, certainly!
Still got it.
“Well it’s good to know you can keep yourself occupied when I’m not around. Even if it by keeling over and messing up my gardens,” I said, putting my legs about his neck.
John, who seemed to be trying to figure out the best place to put his hands (the correct answer here being on me) paused so he could frown at me and wag a finger in my direction.
“Hey! That hedge attacked me. And I’ll have you know I am a responsible adult. I went for a walk around town. How’s that for adult?”
Something of a surprise.
“I thought you hated going out on your own?”
“Well it’s not great, but people don’t stare so much anymore and I didn’t have much else to do. It was nice, actually. You’ve got a nice capital here, anyone ever tell you that? I went to an art gallery, too. Cultural, see?”
“You’re far too sophisticated for me, John.”
“I know, I know. This is me slumming it.”
Couldn’t help but giggle at that, leaning in to give him a nuzzle. I felt his hands settle on my sides. Much better.
“It was, ah, pretty alright stuff, actually. Could be worth us just popping down to have a look,” he said.
I pulled back. My turn to frown a little.
“Did the artist ask you to ask me to visit?”
Getting to me through John wasn’t really the sort of thing liable to get anyone in my good graces. Not that many had tried. Enough so far to start towards annoying me. It just seemed cheap.
John, for his part, had it roll off him every time.
“Yes. But honestly it was alright. Really!” He said. I searched for signs that it might have been anything less than alright but John seemed to really believe it. Which was something.
“Maybe tomorrow, time permitting. It might be nice to go out together. Though I imagine it’ll be rather busier with me coming along,” I said.
“That happens.”
It did indeed.
Tomorrow would be the last day of his stint in Canterlot, with him heading back to Ponyville in the evening. Time had flown, but then I always thought that when he was around. He’d be back again before I even knew I told myself. And it was true. It just didn’t feel especially true, at least not right then.
John squirmed beneath me a little, shifting to get more comfortable. I rose up enough to let him before settling again. Very snug, this. I rather liked it.
“Also: were you blowing in my ear earlier?” He asked.
“I don’t have to answer these wild accusations,” I said, bending down and blowing in his ear again, resulting in a very satisfying shiver running right through him.
“You know, I think I’m too soft on you,” he said, faux-grumpy as I gave him another nuzzle. How did he always smell so good? Or was that just me?
“Well, you could always be harder,” I said. Spur of the moment.
For a second it was pretty obvious that he had not expected anything like this because his stunned silence had a volume all its own. I appreciated this a lot. He bounced back quickly though.
“Steady on there, Celestia. You may not realise it, but I was once a weak man,” he said.
Pulling back so we were nose-to-nose I brought a wing in to just tuck in under his chin and make sure his eyes stayed on mine before saying:
“Once a week’s enough for any man.”
That got him.