Unsilent Night

by Short-tale

Hearth’s Warming resolution

Spitfire was finally home. She could feel the tension releasing in her shoulders as she rolled them. She slowly turned her neck back and forth to remove the persistent hump that felt like it was developing from sitting at a desk so long. She shook out her wings and hooves removing the residual aches and pains of filling out copious amounts of reports.

Hearth’s Warming was the beginning of a month long furlough for the Wonderbolts. Spitfire needed to get all her reports in before the holiday so she could finally relax. Her and Fleetfoot worked tirelessly all day to finish up. It had taken an hour and Fleet seemed to find every mistake she could. Her lieutenant was very thorough.

Spitfire felt the large sigh of ease encompass her as she let go of all the Wonderbolt stress and uncurl her wings at home. She stripped off her work regalia and found her comfiest robe. The slight shiver in her spine told her she was ready for the evening. She set a tea pot on and placed a thunder log in the fireplace. She used her mighty hooves to snap it in half then leapt back as the bands of electricity arced between the two pieces. The home began to fill with the smell of ozone and charred log.

Spitfire poured herself some chai and inhaled the invigorating spice. She always loved spicy things. It made her blood feel warm and her body relaxed. She took a sip and felt the tea work its magic as her throat and lungs relaxed with the heat. She sat down on her couch and placed her tea within wings’ reach.

Then she looked around suspiciously as if the room was filled with unseen ninjas. When her suspicions were sated she reached under her couch cushion and withdrew a book. It was something she was given by Fleetfoot: a romance novel which she would never think to buy herself. She wouldn’t have even thought to read it if the rest of the Bolts hadn’t talked about it so much. They always seemed to be on her case, asking if she'd read it or what she thought of it. She didn’t understand what the appeal was and it bothered her. If something like this stirs up her Bolts then she needed to be a part of it.

She looked at the well worn cover. “For My Superior,” it read in nice military style block letters. Spitfire squinted at the mares on the cover. There was a blue one and yellow one holding each other wearing very steamy expressions on their faces. Spitfire could feel her face flush a bit as she looked at it. She was not a prude by any means but something about a book promising this kind of action made Spitfire a little uncomfortable. She didn’t want to seem crass. But the rest of the Bolts obviously didn’t mind it so she could tolerate a little heat.

She opened the book and began to read:

“Today was the day. Fair Skies could feel it. She knew that nothing but herself could hold her back. Not the war. Not the army. Not even the fact that it was her superior officer. She needed the Captain to know just how she felt about her. She needed her to understand the passion that fueled all of her actions in the platoon.

“Fair Skies had been with the Captain since she started in the platoon. She had taken the second-in-command position after their last lieutenant was gunned down in their first skirmish. Radiant Sun had seen something in Fair that day that she never could see in herself. Fair found something in her heart that day that took a long time to fully admit.

“But Fair knew today was the only day she could do this. The company was being furloughed for the next month and this would be the last time they saw each other for a while. Fair did not want to spend her holiday with her feelings swirling around in her head again.”

Spitfire took a breath. She remembered what it was like to have feelings for another pony like. She remembered looking forward to seeing them everyday. She remembered the drop in her heart as they parted. She couldn’t remember the fillies’ name or what she looked like anymore but the feelings she could remember. She wondered what it was like to hold that feeling in for so long.

She could almost picture the mare on the cover tentatively holding herself in the corner watching her captain with love in her eyes. She read on:

“Fair felt the fear grip her as she made her way down the long hallway towards Radiant’s office. She could feel her body stiffen as she awkwardly made her way down the hall. What if the Captain rejected her? What if her platoon got mad at her for dating their superior? Fair swallowed hard as the hallway seemed impossibly long. She forced her legs to traverse it. Soon she found herself in front of a nondescript door.

“Fair’s hoof shakily reached for the door and ..”

Knock knock knock.

Spitfire looked at the book in disbelief. She shook it slightly when she heard the knocking again. She snickered. There was some pony at the door. She slid off the couch feeling the warmth she had built up leave her. She placed her book down with the relevant page opened. She closed the robe around herself and answered the summons.

The fading sunlight struck her in the face as she swung open the door. She was momentarily blinded but could make out a blue pony standing in her yard. At first she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. The pony outside seemed to match Fair Sky’s depiction on the cover. Her eyes adjusted and she beheld the small frame of her second-in-command, Fleetfoot.

“Oh Fleet,” Spitfire sighed in relief. “You kind of startled me. What’s going on? Haven’t you had enough of me for one day?”

Fleetfoot stood there for a moment stunned. Her body seemed to shake slightly and she looked like she was going to be sick.

“Fleet?” the Captain asked with true concern. “Are you ok?”

“Oh um, yeah,” Fleetfoot stammered. “I’m fine just I ...Umm.. I Umm. I just wanted to wish you a happy Hearth’s Warming before I left. Yeah. That was it. So Umm later.”

“Oh ok, Fleet. Happy Hearth’s Warming. See you in a month.”

“Yeah ok..bye.”

Spitfire watched her lieutenant hesitantly fly off. Fleet looked wobbly in the air and she could swear the young filly’s ears were down. Spitfire didn’t understand what was wrong but didn’t want to pry. Fleet would tell her when she was ready.

The Wonderbolt Captain closed her door and returned to her spot. She was about to sit down when she noticed her tea needed freshening. She took her cup back over and topped off her chai. She returned to her couch and found her space had lost its heat. She grumbled to herself but picked up her book again.

“Fair wandered away from the office, ears down and spirits low.”

Spitfire shook her head. She returned to the previous page. Then back. It didn’t tell her what happened with Radiant. What kind of book is this? Why wouldn’t they show them talking? Spitfire squinted her eyes in annoyance as if the book should bow to her stare. Then she sighed. The answers must be further in. The Captain didn’t like being strung along. She decided to continue reading.

“She had tried to express her feelings but she lost her nerve. The captain had simply asked if anything was bothering her but Fair had been unable to get over her fear. She could feel the shame reddening her face. She looked at the distinct tile markings as she plodded along.”

“Soon she arrived at her barracks. She looked at the other members of her platoon. They excitedly packed their things and chatted about loved ones they would soon be seeing. She could only think about the loved one she was leaving.”

Spitfire remembered that sense of longing. She remembered her own attempt to confess to her crush years ago. It was a long time ago and the filly didn’t feel the same. Or did she? Spitfire couldn’t remember actually being rejected. What was that filly’s name? She could almost remember. But the memory swirled away with the steam of the chai. Spitfire regained her train of thought and focused on her book.

“Fair plopped dejectedly on her bunk. She looked over at her hoof locker and sighed. She might as well start packing. She opened the locker and almost immediately saw the package she had wrapped up in beautiful wrapping. She froze. She had forgotten. It was a beautiful gift. Something that the Captain had forgotten about. Fair had found it in a bunker after the last fire fight. She had meant to give it back but it never seemed the right time. She lifted the beautiful gift up in her hooves. It was superbly wrapped. It gleamed and shone in the dim barracks. She couldn’t let such a precious thing go to waste.

“Fair could feel new determination in her hooves. She needed to get this gift to the Captain before the furlough. It was too important. She knew if she could just give this gift the Captain would understand. She wouldn’t have to express her feelings. She wouldn’t have to stumble over her words. She could just present the gift and all would be known.”

Spitfire wished such a thing was that easy. Just a gift that said everything for you. No forcing yourself to express everything in words. No worrying about misunderstanding. The Captain wished she could have found such a thing those years ago. Perhaps one day she would find a special pony that she could just give a gift to and they would know. If such a thing existed Spitfire wondered what it could be. She turned the page to find out.

“Once again Fair found herself in that hallway in headquarters. It was just as long as it had been previously. This time she moved a little easier. She wouldn’t have to say anything this time. All she had to do was get the Captain to open her present. Radiant would understand. She reached her hoof out and..”

Knock knock knock

Spitfire huffed. She placed the book down and again and slid out of her spot. She placed her tea down with a little more force and felt the contents splash against her feathers. She wrapped her robe closer around herself and strode to the door once again. This had better be good. Spitfire needed to find out this gift.

She opened the door wide and found a familiar face on the other side. Fleetfoot stood there looking strangely shy. Spitfire was beside herself. All the heat in her anger drained when she saw her friend. Fleet was oddly silent and held something in her wing.

“Uhhh Fleet? You forget something?” Spitfire asked suddenly uneasy. The way Fleetfoot held herself suggested a certain weight to her presence.

“I umm I just..,” Fleetfoot started to stammer again. What was wrong with this mare? She was acting like a school filly. They had just spent the afternoon together going over reports and official Wonderbolt documents. She was acting normal then. What had happened in between then and now?

“Look Fleet,” the Captain said. “It seems something is bothering you. Why don’t you just tell me?”

“I I I think my present should clear this up,” the shaking pegasus said as she held out a beautifully wrapped package. Spitfire couldn’t help but think of the gift in her book. She wondered if a gift could clear this matter up. Her friend pushed the hit forward with an expectant look.

Spitfire hesitantly took the gift and stared at it suspiciously. What would this gift tell her? What sort of thing would have Fleetfoot so uncomfortable? She looked at the package with its blue wrapping paper and encircled with a gold ribbon culminating in a shining bow. It was soft. Something soft inside. She wasn’t sure what sort of answers something soft would provide. She looked up at Fleetfoot. Fleet was dancing on her hooves in anticipation.

Spitfire swallowed hard. Something about the way Fleetfoot was acting made this feel really important. She started to pull at the bow and felt the silky texture of the ribbon. She gave it a direct tug and watched as the bow unraveled and fell away. She slowly grabbed the loose piece of wrapping paper and started to pull it open. The paper crinkled as it blossomed open. Spitfire peered at the soft gift inside.

“Socks?” she found herself exclaiming in confusion.

“Socks?!”

“Umm thanks Fleet. I was curious about these things. I heard about them but never remembered to order some. I’m not sure what this gift is supposed to say though. I have cold hooves?”

“No I umm, It’s umm I must have..” Fleetfoot started rambling as she backed away from the gift like it was on fire. She looked like she was guilty of something Spitfire didn’t understand. “I I have to go..”

Fleetfoot suddenly ran through the cloud field and took off into the dark sky. Spitfire watched her go with confusion and sadness. She wished she knew what was bothering the poor mare. She hoped whatever it was the month off would help. She briefly wondered if she should chase her friend down and force her to tell her the problem. That wasn’t the Wonderbolt way. Things that were true emergencies were always brought up. It could affect the team. So whatever was bothering Fleet was something the mare had to sort out herself. She respected her lieutenant to be able to handle the situation.

Spitfire took the socks and entered her home. She looked at the soft gift. They were Wonderbolt socks. Blue with little yellow lighting bolts on the top. She wondered if there was some other message to them that she hadn’t thought of. She made a mental note to ask the rest of the Bolts about it later. She placed them down on her coffee table as she sat on her couch again. She didn’t even care that her chai was no longer steaming. She just wanted to find out what this present was. Spitfire picked up the book and read again.

“Fair walked back hurriedly through the hallway toward the barracks again. She tried to hide her shame at the blunder. She had wrapped the wrong gift.”

Oh come on, Spitfire practically shouted at the book. What was the gift? What did the Captain say? Why would the author write a book like this? Why did the rest of the Bolts love it so much? This book was infuriating with it’s lack of explanations.

“Fair tried her best to think of where she had put that special gift. How could she have wrapped the wrong one? She shook her head to clear the embarrassment that reddened her face. How could she return to her Captain now?

“She raced back to the barracks and collapsed on her bunk. The tears and frustration began to flow from her eyes. She couldn’t see anyway to rectify the situation. She couldn’t return the Captain a third time. She would seem pathetic and desperate. What sort of suitor wouldn’t have the heart to tell the pony of her affections?”

Spitfire could understand the frustration. A small piece of her own confession resurrected in her mind. She remembered the filly in question looking uncertainly on the ground. Little Spitfire had just fully exposed her heart and the filly looked uncertain. Spitfire could feel her namesake fire appear on her face and filled her wings. She took off to the air. She didn’t want to feel the hated sting of rejection. Her fragile pride couldn’t take it at that time. She remembered being cold. She had lost something. She just couldn’t remember what.

“Fair lifted her head and noted all the bunk mates had left. The company was going home. She flapped her wings and glided out of her top bunk. She quickly slammed the hoof locker shut and began to trot to the exit. Maybe one day she would have the strength to tell the Captain.

“She slowly made her way from the barracks but paused at the door. She knew in her bones that the last thought was not true. If she left now she would never tell her. The Captain could find somepony else while they were away. She could be transferred to a different company. A myriad of possibilities paraded through her mind. The shear weight of them pressed her back into the door. She wondered what the right choice was. She could hear the train arriving in the distance. It was her train home.”

Despite all the unresolved conflicts Spitfire found herself on the edge of her seat. She paused and stared at the door. Now was a good time for Fleetfoot to knock once again with some other strange message. But she heard only silence. Some part of her hoped Fleetfoot was done. Another part of her wanted the mare to return. She wanted to find out the truth. She didn’t like seeing her comrade in pain and turmoil like she was in. She waited and stared at the page refusing to read further until the interruption inevitably occurred. But it didn’t. She tentatively continued.

“Fair stood on the threshold of the barracks. She could feel the pull of home calling her in the form of a train whistle. She could also feel her heart tell her that the Captain would be forever out of her reach if she left now. Indecision stuck her hooves to the floor. She glanced around for some sign to aid her choice.

“A backwards glance brought her attention to something shiny. She peered at the gleam coming from her bunk. She felt her wing’s grip on her hoof locker go slack. Her legs turned her around and brought her back to her small home away from home. The small gleam remained under her bed. It grew brighter as she closed in. Soon it seemed to fill her entire vision. It emanated from under her bunk. She lowered herself down and reached her hoof out.”

Spitfire paused and looked at the door. Nothing.

“She grabbed the glowing item and knew it was her gift. She knew this was the sign sent to guide her to the right decision. There was no longer any hesitation. There was no need. She knew she would have everything to tell her how she felt. It wouldn’t matter what the Captain’s response was. She knew that nothing would stop her now.

“Fair moved through the base while ponies shoved and jostled her as she passed. She dodged and weaved her way through the crowd. Was the Captain still in her office? Had she left already? She had to make it.

“A large bump from one of the passing comrades knocked the glittering prize from her mouth. She watched in horror as her precious gift twinkled its way through the air. It landed on the dry ground under the hooves of passing platoon-mates.”

“Yell at them!” shouted Spitfire at her book. “You’re in command! Tell them to stop!”

“Fair frantically searched the ground. Her eyes sought each cloud of dust, every clod of dirt that could hold her present. Nothing shone back at her. The light was gone. Dust and dirt took its place and filled the air with distraction. Fair could feel the frustration and sadness well up within her. The floating dust began to get blurry as her tears began to fill her eyes.”

“‘Fair? Are you alright?’ the Captain’s voice asked behind her. She turned to find the Captain’s gold hair gleaming brightly in the fading light. It twinkled in the reflection of her tears.

“Captain I..,” began Fair hesitantly.”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Spitfire dropped the book onto her own body. She slumped on her couch with annoyance on her face. Maybe, just maybe, she should remain right where she was this time. Fleetfoot could wait until she finished the page. Fleet would understand. But the look on the poor pegasus’s face when she left reminded her that the poor mare was hurting. Spitfire gave a push with her wings and rose from the couch.

She heavily trotted to the door glancing causally at the strange sock gift as she passed it. She opened the door. Spitfire came face to face with a flustered but determined Fleetfoot. She nearly took a step back from the force of the mare’s conviction. Fleetfoot’s face was beet red under her fur and her body shook badly but she remained where she was.

“Fleet,” the Captain began. “Something is clearly bothering you could you just tell..”

Fleetfoot violently shook her head. Then her wings produced a small soft bundle. It was red and knitted and worn in spots. Spitfire looked at it while memory flooded her. It was her scarf. Her favorite one as a filly. The last time she saw it she had given it to the pony she confessed to. Fleetfoot’s wings extended the small scarf towards her. She looked into her lieutenant’s face in confusion. Why did Fleetfoot have..

The memory cleared and finally revealed the filly she had confessed her feelings to. She was another flyer like herself. The pony had a sky blue coat and a cloud white mane. Spitfire found her mouth dropping open as she realized the only pony she had confessed her feelings for was Fleet.

“Do do you remember now Captain?” Fleetfoot’s voice quivered as she searched Spitfire’s face for recognition. “I I was never able to give you an answer back then. When I didn’t respond right away you looked so hurt and flew off. I tried to find you but we were fillies back then and lived in different parts of Cloudsdale. When I finally found you didn’t recognize me anymore and I didn’t want to make things uncomfortable.”

“I I can’t believe I forgot,” Spitfire said as she brought the little scarf to her. “I remember now. I wanted to show you I was tough and that the cold didn’t bother me. So I gave you my scarf to prove it. After I told you my feelings you looked so shocked that I just had to leave. Once I finally calmed down I felt stupid and awkward. I decided to try to forget you. It worked too well. I am shocked you kept this.”

Fleetfoot took a step forward. “I’m sorry I responded the way I did. I was just surprised. No pony had ever confessed to me before. And I have never confessed to any pony else since. I can’t keep this inside me any more. I couldn’t go another Hearth's Warming Eve spending an entire day with you and watching you leave.”

“Fleet?” Spitfire felt her cheeks redden and her mane start to freeze. She could feel what Fleetfoot was about to say. Confusion hit her brain like hayfries in a fryer. “Are you here to finally tell me my answer?”

Fleetfoot nodded, her magenta eyes staring right into her Captain’s. Spitfire swallowed hard. Did she feel the same as she had back then? Did an answer matter now? It did to Fleet. So Spitfire stood in the doorway of her home in her red robe holding a small, worn, fillies’s scarf and waited.

Fleetfoot took a breath. “I liked you too. I was so young then I didn’t know how to respond. It was scary liking some pony like that. I was caught off guard completely. I didn’t think you would feel the same as I did. And then you turned around and confessed to me. It was so astounding I couldn’t speak. And then years later I found you again but you were my Captain. Things would get weird if you didn’t feel the same now. I didn’t know if you had a girlfriend or not. The longer I held it in the worse I felt about bringing it up. Once I told you the truth would you hate me for not bringing it up sooner? I couldn’t be sure. And we had such a special relationship. You let me help you through so much. And every Hearths Warming Eve you let me finish the reports with you. Like a special gift just for me. But this year I just wasn’t satisfied with it any more. I guess I’m just selfish and want more. When came across the scarf last week I knew it was time to tell you. Unfortunately I got too excited and wrapped the wrong gift. N..n ..not that you can’t k...k.. keep the socks of course. I’m sure you’ll look beautiful in them. But I am trying to tell you that I love you and want to be with you as your girlfriend this Hearth's Warming Eve.”

Spitfire stood there trying to process all the information. She looked at the mare slightly shaking in the cold.

“Sorry Fleet, won’t you come in? We can discuss this by the thunder log.”

“I would love to Captain but only if you’re thinking the same as I am. I don’t want to come in and get my hopes up and be let down. If you don’t like me like that anymore I would rather hear it out here. But if you do want me. This door wouldn’t stop me from coming in.”

Spitfire’s ears dropped slightly at the thought of having to make this decision so quickly. The little mare on the other side of the door frame was freezing. But bringing her inside would be admitting something Spitfire hadn’t thought about since the shoe had been on the other hoof. Spitfire weighted what this would mean for their future in the Wonderbolts. The Captain stared at the nervous mare as she quickly assessed the pros and cons. Then some part of her knew her decision. She turned and walked back to the house.

Fleet watched through the open door as Spitfire walked back toward her log. She could feel her knees start to quake and her heart fracture. She turned and looked towards her beloved sky which became a blur.

“Are you coming in Fleet? It’s getting cold with the door open.”

Fleetfoot spun around and noticed Spitfire staring at her expectantly. Her heart leapt into her throat. She tentatively took a small hoof step in.

“Come on Fleet, get the lead of your tail. It’s cold!”

Fleetfoot instinctively sped in and closed the door behind her. She entered the home that she had only entered in her dreams. It was a lot softer and more comfortable than she imagined the home to be. The hallway led past a kitchen and ended in a living room with a couch angled towards a fireplace. Spitfire was sitting on the couch in her robe.

Spitfire shifted over and patted the couch next to her. She watched as her good friend awkwardly shuffled over to her and sat down. Obviously she hadn’t thought about what would happen after her confession. She wondered what would put the little mare at ease.

“So umm I’ve been reading that book you guys have been talking about,” ventured Spitfire.

“Book? Which book?”

“‘For My Superior’, you’re the one that lent it to me.”

“Captain that was months ago. You’re just reading it now?”

“I didn’t have much time.”

Spitfire noticed that Fleet had started to relax and lifted her fore-hoof invitingly. The second-in-command slid closer and leaned against the yellow hair of her new mate. Spitfire could feel her face flushing but found the weight comforting.

“I found it a little annoying though,” admitted Spitfire. “It never seemed to tell you what happened.”

“Oh Captain, that was the joke. It builds up all this tension then just leaves you hanging until the end.”

Author's Note:

Hope you like it Camaleao. Merry Hearths Warming!

Comments

[Camaleao]

I feel so lucky, it's like I got two stories instead of one! Hope Fair Skies and Radiant Sun can have their own happy ending as well.
The way the side story happens at the same as the main one makes me wonder if Fleetfoot gave Spitfire some sort of magic book that maybe shapes its contents based on what the reader needs to see. :P

Thanks for writing this piece, it's really sweet. Happy Hearths Warming!

[SpitfireIsMyFavPony]

I see what you did at the end! Very good story! Loved it

[Voidwalker]

Okay, that narrative was hilarious! You know, while reading, I just couldn't stop myself from thinking. As soon as the first 'knock knock knock' came, it was rather clear that something was up with that book. And I reeeaaally suspected that a) either Fleetfoot wrote it herself, maybe with the help of her comrades, or b) it was some sort of magical relic. I just... I love how it turned out. It's great, really.

Thank you.