“Hey, Lyra,” Misty aimed for a smile that was equal parts roguish and reassuring.
“What happened to you?” Lyra was more bustling nurse than worried girlfriend as she came to examine Misty’s injured side.
“One of those fuckers clawed me… again,” she muttered.
“Is that why you didn’t come back last night?”
“Uh… basically.”
“This is a pretty good field dressing,” Lyra smoothed the bandages back down with her magic. “We should leave your injured wing to Dr. Spring Flight but I can do the stitches.”
“Hang on,” Misty stilled her with a hoof on her back. “Can you just sit for a minute? I’ll be alright.”
“Okay.” Lyra perched uncertainly on the side of the bed.
“I got something for you.”
“You what?”
“I picked up a little souvenir for you in Baltimare.” From beneath the pillow beside her, Misty produced the lyre.
She could see the jolt that ran through Lyra when she set eyes on it. Her magic flared briefly. Her hooves, her face, her whole body twitched towards it. “Oh my goddess,” she whispered. “Where did you find it?”
“I made an unscheduled stop at the conservatory,” Misty grinned, laying it on Lyra’s lap.
Lyra turned it over and over between her hooves. “It’s in great condition,” she murmured. “But, Misty? Is this the reason something happened? Did you run into one of those things trying to get this?”
“Well, the conservatory is just where it happened to be hiding,” she shrugged nonchalantly.
“So that’s a yes, then.”
“Yeah.” For a long moment they just held each other’s gaze. Lyra eventually looked away first, casting her eyes downward as she set the lyre carefully aside.
“I’ve missed playing more than I can put into words,” she said. “Having a lyre again is really… something.”
“Something” could be…well, almost anything. Misty frowned slightly but held her tongue.
“I don’t want to sound ungrateful because this is probably, no - definitely the most remarkable thing anypony has ever done for me. But you could have been killed trying to get it for me, right? You and Soarin could have both been killed. Did you feel like you needed to impress me? Do I make you feel like you need to impress me?”
Misty squirmed. She tried to flex her wings and winced at her injury. “I just wanted to do something nice for you. And maybe impress you a bit, too, but that’s just me, you know? You didn’t do that.”
Lyra sighed. “You’re lying. Misty, let me make this clear. I would have missed you much more than the lyre if anything had happened to you. And I am already impressed by you all the time, always. The things you do out there? The way you fly, the way you protect everypony, the situations you put yourself in for the good of Equestria? Goddess, Misty - I think you’re amazing. Nopony impresses me more than you do. Sometimes I don’t know what you see in me. “
“Hey,” Misty whispered, taking her hoof. “Don’t sell yourself short. I think you’re amazing too, and incredibly brave and way stronger than me. You -“ Celestia, how do I put this? “you lost a lot and here you still are.”
“I did lose a lot. But I gained a lot too since then and I know I haven’t been great at acknowledging that. Misty, I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Whoa, we just said that out loud, didn’t we? That wasn’t too hard.
Lyra lurched forward suddenly and wrapped her forelegs around Misty, kissing her hard. Misty hurried to respond, pulling her closer and biting back a hiss of pain at the strain on her injuries.
“Thank you for the lyre,” Lyra whispered against Misty’s lips. “But please, don’t do anything like that again. Please don’t put yourself in more danger. I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t,” she swore blithely, running her hooves up and down Lyra’s back and pressing against her cutie marks. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
It was Lyra who reluctantly started to pull away first. “You still need stitches…”
“It can wait…” Misty held fast.
“Dr. Spring Flight will be coming back…”
Fuck. “Alright. I don’t want to give him even more of a bad impression.”
“More?”
“Long story.”
Lyra pressed a kiss to Misty’s forehead as she rose, lifting the lyre with her magic and giving it a jaunty twirl. “Do you think you’ll be up for a private concert tonight?”
“Definitely!” Misty grinned and folded her hooves behind her head, again ignoring the pain in her side and wing. She does like it. Damn, this was so worth it.
Lyra was about halfway done with the stitches when Dr. Spring Flight returned to set Misty’s wing. She did her utmost to appear both respectful and respectable, every inch the brave Wonderbolt. She knew that Applejack liked her for Lyra, but she wanted his seal of approval as well.
“I’m afraid I must recommend you remain grounded for a week, followed by another week of light duty,” he pronounced. “And I will be conveying that to your Captain as well.” He glanced over his shoulder and, seeing that Lyra was distracted, added “You have a knack for getting out of close scrapes but don’t push it. You are needed here. Understood?”
“Without a doubt, sir. Thank you.” She hoped that Lyra noticed him giving her a fatherly pat on the shoulder; that had to be a good sign.
What Lyra certainly did notice, again and again, was the lyre which was now propped on the pillow by Misty’s side. Her eyes kept drifting towards it each time she paused in her stitching. Her lips kept twitching upwards, even the ever present crease between her eyes seemed to have smoothed a bit. Misty felt warm all over watching her. She’d never cared much for classical music before but she had a feeling that after tonight she was going to start.