The corners of the window were covered with a thin layer of ice. The room was filled with the warm sound of a violin accompanied by the scratching of a quill on paper.
This scene was actually very similar to that of the prior year, except this year was far more wonderful. This year I would not be spending Hearth's Warming Eve alone.
I finish writing the current chapter and lay the quill down on the desk. I push against the table and stand up from my chair. I turn to see the most beautiful mare in the world sitting in her chair playing a soft melody.
We've been married for a little over ten months, and yet my heart still skips a beat whenever I wake up and see her lying next to me, her captivating eyes beaming and her beautiful face smiling at me. It's amazing to be able to fall in love all over again every single day.
I stretch my back as I look around the room. In one corner sits a quaint tree with a couple parcels sitting beneath it. Even though there were just a couple presents I feel impatient, like I'm once again a young colt. I can't wait to see her grin once she opens her present.
Even if she was far from a material pony, I was quite certain she'd love the gift. If there's one thing that I'm good at, it's surprises.
I feel a wide smile grows across my face. "You alright honey?" I look up from my daydream towards my wife.
“I’m fine, well fantastic really. In all honesty I’m quite excited for tomorrow.”
“You’re excited for Hearth’s Warming Eve?” she giggled, “I would’ve thought this foalish holiday to be below you.” She speaks with a sarcastic pompous accent.
I am often one to look down upon immature and foalish actions while she often indulges a variety of silly activities, this often leads to compromise. And even so I don’t believe we’ve ever had a serious argument.
“Oh hush up. And don’t act like you’re not excited, you have been quite fidgety the entire day.” Her cheeks turn a familiar shade of red.
Everytime I look at her she fills me with wonder. If only I could create a character as genuine and magnificent in my writing, but I could never do her justice.
She yawned, and I noticed how tired her eyes looked. “Anyways, don’t you think we should be getting off to bed, it would be a shame if Santa Hooves skipped us over because somepony wasn’t asleep.” I chide and she turns away with a snort. I walk up next to her and drape my wing over her as I had many times before. She nuzzles my neck as I walk her down the hall towards our bedroom.
I feel a bit cruel for all of my writing, not giving any of my characters an ending like this. Love is far more powerful, precious and pure than I had ever realized. And to think I would have never realized this if it weren’t for a chance meeting on the streets of Canterlot.
We walk through the threshold into the familiar room. She lays down in the bed and I tuck a blanket over her. “You need to get some sleep, I’ll go make sure everything is ready for tomorrow.” She grunts in dissent but I just kiss her on the cheek and she turns over and closes her eyes.
Sleep, the state in which we are our most pure. Where even the most dastardly of villains can appear innocent. Here our minds are free to our own fantasies, and yet this all reminds me of an old saying, "When you are truly happy then you don't wish to sleep, as the whimsies of dream could never hope to be as amazing as your reality." This statement rings true for me now, the joy of spending time with her is far greater than the joy I've ever received from any dream of mine
I turn off the lights and begin to close the door, "Goodnight and sweet dreams, my love." I turn and walk down the hallway. In the living room the tree was lit with a soft glow, each of the little presents sat below the tree patiently waiting for morning. I begin to grin once again, thinking of how she’ll react to her gift.
We all love receiving a nice gift, I’ll admit to it myself, but we often forget the other side of the coin. The feeling you get when somepony tears through the wrapping paper and their face lights up, it is near unmatchable. Love is not meant to be single-sided, as a friend of mine says “It’s a give and a take.” It would be fantastic if we could all remember this simple truth.
I take a couple more presents from the closet and place them under the tree. After those are done, I head off to my secret hiding place. On top of the kitchen cabinet lies a small box that she would not be able to reach. I fly up there and bring it down to the table.
A couple of my friends were confused as to how I could fall in love with an Earth Pony while I was a pegasus, they saw her as just an anchor that would keep me grounded. They couldn’t be more wrong. The excitement of flying cannot even compare to feeling of my heart soaring every moment I spend with her. And besides, I’ve taken her flying on more than one occasion.
I open up the box to reveal a true feat of crafting, a custom hand carved violin made by a premier luthier, the best in all of Canterlot. It may have cost a large sum, but as I, or rather we, are quite well off when it comes to finances, it wasn’t a big deal. It even had her cutie mark etched onto the belly of the instrument. I remove it from the box and lean it against the tree, as to make it appear as if it were on display. I felt giddy with excitement to see her reaction in the morning.
Whenever you make someone smile, when you make them genuinely smile, there is no greater feeling. Happiness is a grand thing to have in life, and sharing this joy only amplifies your own.
I turn and walk towards my desk. On top of it my pages lie sprawled next to each other. I pick them up and stack them neatly on top of each other. I put up the quill and ink and tidy up the desktop. Once all is clean I look down at my latest chapter and begin to read it over.As I read a smile once again found its way to my face.
My new novel is being written at the request of my wife, she had her own general idea for a novel but the inability to write it well. After about six months into our marriage she brought a proposal to me for a story idea that she thought up while reading my last novel. Now I’m about halfway through the writing process and her idea has actually blossomed surprisingly well. Now every once in awhile she’ll giddily ask how my progress goes. As I said before, a relationship is a give and a take.
I put away the papers and return to my bedroom. She breathes softly as she lies, peacefully sleeping. I move the covers and tuck myself in next to her. Within seconds of lying down I fall unconscious.
I cannot remember the last time I had a dream. In all honesty it was never much of an issue to me. Some writers receive inspiration from dreams, I get mine from music. I guess that’s yet another reason we are perfect together.
I awake with the world shaking. I open my eyes to see her hovering over me, and she quickly kisses me, “Get up sleepyhead! Happy Hearth’s Warming!” She practically jumps out of bed and runs out of the room. I quickly get up and take off after her, I need to see her reaction. As I walk up behind her, she just stands there frozen, her mouth wide open as she stares towards the tree. When I walk up next to her she squeals me and tackles me into a hug.
I was so lucky to be in love. How many others go through their lives without ever meeting their special somepony? Far too many in my opinion.
She picks up the instrument and brings up her bow. “ It’s nothing compared to what you got me, but I wrote a piece for you.” She smiles her timid smile and begins to play and sing. It was one of the more beautiful sounds I have heard in my life. As she stops playing tears begin spilling from my eyes.
“You are the greatest gift I could ever ask for.”