//------------------------------//
// In Morning 
// Story: Blackacre 
// by Princess Woona 
//------------------------------//

21 December, Y.C. 969
Ponyville

The hospital windows were big enough, but the predawn light still struggled to filter in, casting a feeble glow on the mauve sheets. They slipped slightly to one side, the twill weave running against itself with the faintest of sounds. From under them, the slightest whinny.
The sound came again, this time forming the barest semblance of words.
“Hey.”
No response.
“You awake?” it continued, quieter than a whisper.
“Yes,” came a slightly hoarse male voice from the other side of the bed.
“Oh.” Jackie pulled the sheet down slightly and glanced over, a ruby forelock flopping over her eyes. “Should’ve said something, then.”
“Didn’t want to wake you,” said Dag absently, sitting up against the headboard.
She nudged him gently. “How long…?”
“Most of the night,” he shrugged. “Got a few hours, but I’ve been watching Canterlot since it was a hole in the sky.”
Instinctively, she glanced out the window. Canterlot was visible in the distance, but just barely, the tall tip of the mountain a spot of light above the morning mists.
“You could still sleep for a bit longer,” she offered. “It’s early.”
“I know,” he said tonelessly. “Not going to, though. No sense in it.”
Jackie nodded. No sense arguing with that; it was only the most important day of his life so far. She didn’t understand the nuances involved in the game of diplomacy, but she certainly understood what it meant to be the pony behind this deal. Maybe when it next came time to send a delegate abroad, the Princess would tap him. Maybe… maybe even an apprenticeship under Kissinmare?
Well, some dreams were more optimistic than others. No matter how you sliced it, though, this was a major step forward. Not only being assigned to one of the most difficult internal relations tasks in years, but actually closing a deal? This was huge for him… and yet he didn’t look like a pony whose career outlook just got a whole lot better.
She might not know much, but she knew when he needed some comforting; with a slight shuffle of blankets she leaned against him, feeling his heartbeat through his violet coat, strong and steady. Like always.
“I wish I knew why,” he said in response to the unanswered question. “It’s not in our interest, not at all. But suddenly results matter more than anything else.”
“Today’s the solstice,” she offered, the sound of sleep hiding around the edges of her voice. “That’s something.”
“And? If she wanted good news as a cover, she could have waited until year’s end. Could have waited until… until there wasn’t anything to cover, because the deal was in our favor.” He shook his head. “I just get the feeling that I’m being set up.”
“’Course not,” she murmured, her voice still soft but definitely more awake. “Princess trusts you. Gave you the orders herself, didn’t she?”
“It was her seal,” he nodded. “But —”
“Only way you could be set up would be if they didn’t know she was the one giving the orders,” she cut in, voice still deceptively quiet. “Thanks to the leak, everypony knows she’s calling the shots for you here.”
“I hadn’t…” he started. “Hadn’t thought of it like that.”
“That’s why I’m here.” She reached a hoof around him, pulling herself slightly higher up on his side. “There you go. Problem solved.”
“No,” he corrected. “Something’s still wrong here. It’s just… just not me, I guess.”
“Meaning?” she prompted.
“Meaning… it’s not about me, is it.” He slumped back slightly. “It’s still my problem, though.”
“Not one you can do anything about.”
Dag looked back outside. It was still dark here in Ponyville, still dark in the mountains, but there was a distinct glow of predawn about. The haze didn’t seem to be going anywhere, at least for the moment; between the weather and the clouds he couldn’t see Canterlot any more.
“Still my responsibility.”
“And you’re doing the best you can,” she shot back, slightly irritated. “Which right now is nothing. The first representatives are coming to town in what, three hours? Four?
“Three,” he corrected, if he was interpreting the fuzzy splotches on the beside clock correctly.
“That’s sleep you can get,” she said. “That you need.”
“I should practice —”
“You’ve had that speech written for two days,” she said. “You know it cold. Two hours’ sleep will do you more good than two hours’ practice. That practice won’t mean anything if you’re bleary.”
She was right, of course. She always was. The very first arrivals wouldn’t even be critical personnel; most of them would be reporters and various other flunkies coming into town to set up for the afternoon. He didn’t need to be there for that; his staff had already sent out copies of the speeches and other documentation. The whole thing was of course going to be broadcast live, via the eyesore of a radio transmitter somepony had set up yesterday; the speech copies were so the talking heads could get a few hours’ head start on analysis.
No, he didn’t even need to leave the building until the… Mane event around noon. Strictly speaking he only had to be present at the speech, but it behooved him to be present and glad-hooving the audience by the time the dignitaries started arriving.
The room sprang into faint relief as Jackie’s horn glowed ever so slightly, drawing the curtains closed. She flickered out, and though the room wasn’t much darker than it had been a minute prior, he would be glad of the dark in an hour or so.
Slowly he settled back in the bed; the moment his head hit the pillow Jackie snuggled up against him, the warmth of her body a welcome change from the crisp night air. Maybe today they would fix the heat?
No matter. Dag forced his eyes closed. Not that he was going to fall asleep, but even if he did, he knew the alarm next to the bed was still set, one of the few things he had remembered to do last night, amidst a spate of last-minute end-tying.
There were probably still a few things he needed to do, but those could wait. Well, if they were important enough, his staff would have taken care of whatever it was. Either way, he could get another few hours of sleep.
Probably needed it, too. Wasn’t going to come naturally, though. Keeping his eyes closed was awfully comfortable, and the sound of Jackie’s rhythmic breathing next to him was even more so, but he wasn’t particularly….
Oh, to hell with it. Who was he kidding?
He only had three hours to rest — better get to it.