//------------------------------// // Chapter 21 // Story: Reflected Reflections // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Standing in the rain, Sunrise Surprise studied the wagon. It was a Vardo, one of the caravan wagons of the wandering gypsy ponies. The roof was cracked and a wheel had broken. The fallen tree was still resting atop it. She pulled open the door in the rear and water trickled out, running down the steps. The inside was wet. She peered inside, her horn igniting for light. Anything and everything that had been useful was gone. She could see places, shelves, where beds had been. Water poured through the ceiling. The only thing left inside that could have been of any value was the cast iron, wood burning, pot bellied stove. The metal chimney was still in good shape. She backed away from the door and then returned to be with her friends. “So… somepony’s wheel breaks, they park a wagon, maybe hoping to fix it somehow, and then a tree falls on it. After that, it is abandoned,” Garlic said to Fogwalker. “The wanderers live by funny rules… anything that is no longer of any use is abandoned,” Fogwalker replied. She extended a wing and held it over Sunrise’s head, an almost useless gesture of affection. “Think you can fix it?” “If I can fix it, is Garlic going to pull it? It feels wrong somehow… he is my protector and my friend… using him as a common pony of burden to haul a wagon around feels wrong.” Sunrise looked at Garlic, a confused expression upon her face. “I like pulling wagons. And this is a nice wagon. It just needs a little fixing and maybe a few beds. It wouldn’t slow me down to pull it as we traveled. Nothing changes the fact that I am an earth pony and I am the most suited for pulling a wagon or dealing with heavy loads. It isn’t like Chert could pull it and while Foggy is strong, she isn’t that strong. So the task falls to me as a practical matter.” Garlic, having expressed his opinion on the issue, fell silent. “So… practical matter… it falls to me to fix it.” Sunrise had seen Celestia and Luna both use a mend spell. Mend repaired wood, cloth, and even stone, but the harder a material was the more difficult it was to mend. Sighing, Sunrise turned from her friends, mounted the steps of the wagon, and made her way inside. She would fix the roof first, if she could. It seemed a simpler fix than the wheel. Just a simple split in the wood. If she could fix it, the water would stop pouring in, and her friends could have a place to stay that was out of the rain. It would need to dry out in here. A spell and maybe the wood burning stove might fix that. Sticking her head out the door, she looked at Chert. “Find firewood. There is a stove in here. The wood will be wet, but we can get it to burn.” Without protest, Chert departed, off to look for wood in the immediate area. Clearing out her mind, or at least attempting to, Sunrise thought back to her lessons. Celestia had tried to teach her a mend spell. Sunrise Surprise closed her eyes. The trick was to think of water. Flowing water. Water didn’t bump together, it flowed together. What if water was in the form of ice cubes? Ice cubes bump together. Blinking, Sunrise’s eyes opened as she had the distracting thought. Closing her eyes once more, she tried to push ice cubes from her mind. Two cubes of ice will stick together if you get them wet and press them together… her brain said to her in a teasing inner dialogue. “Wow, it worked.” Sunrise’s eyes fluttered open and she looked at Fogwalker, who was standing in the doorway. Fogwalker gestured upwards using her wing. Looking up, Sunrise had trouble believing what she was seeing. The crack in the roof, the broken planks, was now gone. “How did I…” “Never mind how you did it, you did it.” Fogwalker looked at Sunrise and then at the ceiling. “Be content that you pulled it off. You did good.” Somehow, even though she was drenched with freezing water, Sunrise felt warm. She beamed, a sunny smile, and felt as though she wanted to laugh, or maybe dance. It felt good to have done something right, even if she wasn’t sure how she had done it. Perhaps knowing how she did it did not matter. “We can worry about the wheel later. Think you can dry this place out?” Fogwalker asked as she studied the ceiling. “We’ll need to get the tree off of the roof as well.” The rosy glow of the fire filled the inside of the wagon with warmth and light. Inside of the wagon, space was cramped, but a more optimistic pony might call it ‘cozy.’ The inside was filled with nooks and crannies, spaces to store items, gear, supplies, everything that might be needed for life on the road. There were three shelves for beds, intended to hold mattresses stuffed with hay or straw, two on either side and one at the front of the wagon. Each of these shelves folded into the walls to allow for more room. The wood stove was in the rear, tucked into the corner by the door. Sunrise and Chert both had their own bunks. Fogwalker and Garlic had to share. The vardo, though empty, held promise. Supplies kept in here would remain dry in inclement weather. More food could be carried. For the adventurers, the wagon was a home on the road. “How is your back? And the rest of you?” Fogwalker’s words were soft whispers. She did not want to wake her companions. “I’m fine,” Garlic replied. “You’re a lousy liar.” Fogwalker looked at her husband, her face stern. “I’m worried about you pulling this thing with your injuries.” Garlic, rolling his eyes, shook his head in exasperation. He stared at the fire, watching the embers shimmer. The air was still damp and he was glad to have Fogwalker beside him. For a moment, he felt bad for Sunrise and Chert. They were alone in their bunks, with nopony beside them to keep them warm. It was uncomfortable laying on bare wood, but being with Fogwalker made it bearable. “It scared me today… seeing you hurt. I’m a soldier… I’m supposed to fight and be fearless… it always bothered me to watch you go into danger, I was never comfortable with it. But you're my husband now… things have changed. I can’t stop thinking about how it could have all gone wrong earlier today and I’d be a widow now.” Turning his head, Garlic looked at Fogwalker after hearing her confession. “We could die at any moment.” Fogwalker’s head darted towards Garlic and she gave him a swift peck on the cheek. “I don’t want to die. I want to be with you. I’d like to have a foal.” Garlic listened to the sounds of the rain on the wooden roof, thinking about the feeling of Fogwalker’s lips upon his cheek. It would be awful to die now, after everything that had happened. Could he walk away from all of this? What would happen if he tried? Could he go back to being a farmer? Would Fogwalker resent him? Could a pegasus be happy with a life spent in the dirt? Garlic wasn’t sure if he could be happy with a life spent in the dirt. “What are you thinking about?” Fogwalker asked. “Nothing,” Garlic replied. “Avoiding death, fighting side by side, these things will bring us closer together.” Fogwalker lowered her head and laid it down upon her folded forelegs. Her barrel heaved and she let out a half whinny half sigh that was unique to equines. “Going into battle, always knowing that you have my back and I have yours. It’s romantic.” Thinking of his previous thoughts, Garlic felt ashamed. A life spent in the dirt lost all appeal. A life spent on a farm, raising little fat foals, trodding through the dirt all day, Garlic realised that it was not a life that Fogwalker would be happy with. She wanted adventure, she wanted action, she wanted… romance. “Come on… Garlic, what are you thinking about?” Fogwalker asked. “Nothing Foggy,” Garlic replied. “Are all earth ponies this empty headed or just you?” Fogwalker’s lips puckered into a pout. “Do you just not think about stuff? How do you make it through a long watch into the night? If I don’t think about stuff I fall asleep.” “I dunno… I manage somehow.” The fire popped and Garlic’s ears pivoted forwards. “This is like living a dream. We have each other… I finally have you. You’ve finally admitted to loving me. We’re on the road, we’re making our little part of the world a better place, we have steadfast friends with us, we have this funny little wagon to stay dry in, the fire is warm… and… I have you.” Fogwalker glanced at Chert and then Sunrise. After a moment of silence, she asked in a low whisper, “Do I smell bad? I smell like wet stinky pony, don’t I?” Garlic considered his answer before speaking. When at last he felt confident that he was saying the right thing, he replied, “I think we all do.” “Good answer. You’re still in trouble for making me cry and breaking my heart.” A half smile appeared in Fogwalker’s muzzle. “I thought as much.” The corner of Garlic’s mouth twitched as he fought to hold back his own smile. A life like this wouldn’t be so bad. For all of the dangerous moments, there would also be moments like this one. “Stinky, you do think… I’m shocked.” Fogwalker lifted her head and bumped her cheek up against Garlic’s broad jaw. “I’ve been thinking too… about our first time.” Uh oh. Garlic felt the first stirrings of panic deep within him. “No pressure, no rush, but we’ve been married for a little while now. I’m willing to wait till just the right moment, but there is no way I am going to wait forever. I’m not in season so we can just go at it whenever the, uh, need arises.” Fogwalker let out a quiet titter and looked at Sunrise, noting the alicorn’s ears twitching in her sleep. “I was thinking about that myself actually,” Garlic said, knowing that his words were going to cost him. He accepted the loss. “I bet you were.” It was too warm in the wagon. Garlic felt like he was about to start sweating. Fogwalker’s voice was husky with seduction. “No… the practical concerns. I am much taller than you are. You can stand beneath me. I’m worried about reach… fitting together.” “There are ways… your mother gave me some helpful advice.” “Ugh… no… just no… please, never say those words again.” Garlic squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head in disgust. “Why would my mother give you helpful advice?” “Your grandmother too—” “No…” “Oh yes, both of them want you to be happy… they want us to be happy. And they gave me all kinds of helpful advice and earth pony wisdom.” Fogwalker felt Garlic tremble, the feeling of him trembling against her gave her chills, and she took a deep breath. “I want you to be happy with me.” “Mares put too much stock in that. Believe me, it isn’t hard to keep a stallion happy.” “Any mare can catch a stallion’s attention for a few minutes, but it is far more difficult to keep him coming back. Just look at your mother and your father… Gasser and your mother are friends. She’s doing something to keep him coming back,” Fogwalker said in a low whisper. “I’d rather not talk about that.” Garlic shoved certain thoughts out of his mind and hoped they would not return. The rain upon the roof was soothing, but Garlic did not allow himself to feel drowsy. “Get some sleep. In a little while, I’ll wake up Chert. We have a long day tomorrow.”