//------------------------------//
// Bedside Things 
// Story: The Things Tavi Says 
// by shortskirtsandexplosions 
//------------------------------//

	"Turns out there really is an 'Ambassador Talonsmith," Beau says, sitting at my bedside.  "But that crazy turkey you and Tavi ran into the other night?"  He shakes his head.  "That ain't him!  The psychopath is actually a Mr. Talonsmith Jr.  Seems like livin' off daddy's bird bits has left him feelin' mighty entitled... and just a teensy bit deranged.  Rumor is, they busted into Junior's roost in Griffonstone and found stacks upon stacks of books all related to the old griffon/pony wars.  The lunatic's obsessed, and this ain't the first time he's tried using his daddy's title to slither his way into some sort of stately event of some kind or another."

I sit up in bed, blinking tiredly.  Beyond Beau's voice... beyond the crimson beeps of my heart monitor, I sense a rippling sea of indigo.  It's weak... it's still... but it's stable, and growing denser by the hour.

I breathe easily.

Beau continues.  "So far, as best as Twilight and the royal guard can tell, Talonsmith Junior likely showed up with the first catering unit, pretendin' to be a normal servant.  That was—like—a week ago?  The current theory is that the crazy ol' coot stole his way up into one of the supply lockers and holed himself up there, munchin' on crackers and doin' his nasty bird business into a soup can.  Can you imagine that?  A house invader?  Livin' like a cockroach between the castle walls for days and nights, just so he could leap out and stage some impossible coup?  Brbrbrbrrrr..."

I can feel Beau's shivers from across the room.  I struggle to keep my lunch in.  It's a difficult feat, considering the texture of most hospital foods.  I was once used to it.

"I've been hangin' out with Princess Twilight and her friends'n'all over the past two days.  Real cool cats, even if I've only been seein' the serious side of 'em.  For a second there, Twilight was really scared that this Talonsmith Jr guy would be claimin' insanity or something.  But—like—the dude's spat in the face of all representatives who've come to help him.  I think he's really insane!  He thinks that he's the real delegate from Griffonstone, and that the ponies are holding out gold on him!  Tch... guy couldn't be any further from reality.  Heck, his own Pop's done disowned him, the way I hear it.  So there goes his last line of homeland protection.  Kind of pathetic when you think about it."

I close my eyes, feeling the indigo streams wafting from afar.  I drift in them.  My bed is a raft, and it carries me to a warmer tomorrow.

Beau's voice is the wind.  "Well... if you ask me, psycho or not, that punk knew exactly what harm he was doin' when he did what he did to you and Tavi.  And I'm super glad he got what was comin' to him.  Heh.  Reckon I've never met this 'Flash Sentry' dude, but the moment I bump into him you can bet he's gettin' a bro-hoof from yours truly that'll carry him for life!  Hell, I'll hug the suave stuffing out of him!  I dun care which way his barn door swings!  The zebra train's a'rollin', buddy boy!"

The lips of my muzzle curve.  I sigh calmly... relaxedly...

And I feel a strong pair of forelimbs covering mine.

My naked eyes open thinly.

Beau's leaning at my bedside.  He smiles, gently stroking my fetlocks.  "But nothin' tops you, girl..."  He gulps.  "And what you did."  His ears fold back.  "Vine... it had to have taken every ounce of yer guts to stick by Tavi's side like you did.  Why, if somethin' that awful happened to Merriweather... I-I'm not certain I could even think straight.  And I've only known the guy for only a few weeks!  But you?  You and Tavi?  That's seven years of gorgeous stuff to have flash by yer genius eyes!  And... and..."

I bite my lip.

He grimaces slightly, but covers it up with a smile.  "I... I don't mean to rub it in or nothin', girl.  Just... just know that I'm proud of you."  He takes a shuddering breath, his eyes moist.  "And I know in my heart that Octavia is proud of you too.  Especially since... I-I mean... especially after what... what Merriweather..."

I love Beau.  I love hearing him speak.  But Goddess if I'm not exhausted right now.

Everything fades, cascading into a dull, vibrating green.

He sees me sliding away.  His sigh is curiously remorseful.  It's the last thing that nearly startles me as I drift into that gentle hum.

"Yeah... yeah, Vine."  A stroke of my bangs.  "You just rest up, girl.  We'll... uh... we'll talk later."

There's a string of magenta—there and melting again.

Did I reply to him?

Do I ever reply to him?

For a mare with so many one-sided conversations, I sure do stumble through a lot of dimensions...

...and here comes one now.

...here comes...