Constellations and Their Relation to Doing Dishes, Or Crescent's Guide to Marriage (Closed: Rosewind)

[SteelEagle]

Canterlot was a city of hopes and dreams, though for the uninitiated it appeared to be more like a city that was constantly in a state of social war. Admittedly, Canterlot was a little intense when questions were asked of your social standing but that was just an unfortunate side effect of a city where dreams came true for almost everypony. He believed that applied to most of Equestria, though. It was a land where if you worked hard and did things the right way, you would find yourself almost overwhelmed by your riches. Maybe the difference was that Canterlot had withstood the test of time better than any other city and therefore the leading families of the city found their histories and successes so tied in that rivalries became natural. The Sparkles had never really cared about that and consequently neither did Crescent.

He was a happy pony, even if his name carried more weight due to familial connections and his offspring more than it mattered due to him. Why wouldn't he be happy? He was well-respected in his field, his peers looking to him when they needed an answer or some new evidence to prove or disprove some wild new theory. That job gave his family financial health, which in the city was one of the few worries a pony should have. It allowed him to focus on those things that truly did matter, namely his wife and children. He was beyond thrilled and pleased with his life in all ways, but nothing else could compare to the joy and pride he had with and for his family. His children gave him plenty to talk about- his peers would bring up their wealthy children or successful children, but he could shut them down quickly. Nopony else had a son who was Captain of the Guard and a Prince of the Crystal Empire, nor a daughter who was Celestia's personal student and one of the Elements of Harmony. It was bragging rights defined, but it paled in comparison to what made him really pleased. They were both upright and grand ponyfolk, their morals and ethics unquestioned(mostly) and model Equestrians. He was happy to talk all of the credit, but truth was he had to share it with at least one other pony.

His wife Velvet was not only the star of his life(a rather corny expression), but had proven to be a perfect partner. Where he was linear she was non-linear; where he needed facts she offered ideas; he preferred scarves and she seemed to love socks. These were the elements of the perfect union and he wouldn't accept other answers. They were both rather poor(if feverish) cooks who still wouldn't admit it and their walks were enjoyed equally. He was sure there were other factors that came into play but the end result was all that mattered; he loves his wife and he was reasonably sure- mostly sure- that she loved him. Otherwise, how could she explain the two children?

As Crescent breached the front door of his home on his way off of work, this random thought popped into his mind. It wasn't all that unusual for some random thought to pump it's way into his head, after all. It was a thirty minute trot home and he couldn't be expected to maintain any reasonable intelligence without stimuli for tyhat long. Luckily, he was certain to have certain stimuli at home. He opened the door to his two-story abode- quite lavish considering his personality, though still not anything remotely exciting- and welcomed another night of relaxation, aggravation, housework, and vexation before a nice cuddle under warm covers took him to sleep. It was the perfect plan.

[Rosewind]

The lovely unicorn mare, Velvet, peered up from a pile of cloth. Two knitting needles hovered in the air, clicking together in quick succession. Several lovely blue-and-white striped socks spilled to the floor. She peered up from around her mound of soft fabric, her horn aglow. Her face followed suit, and she grinned widely at her stallion love. [colour=#9966CC]"Honey Hooves! Did you pick up that thing from the store I asked for? You know...the thing. Thing. For that project we were doing for our little ones." [/colour]Her little ones, of course, weren't little at all. Several more socks appeared from the quick clicking of the needles, which joined an ever-growing pile of hoof-warning garments. [colour=#9966CC]"We also need to find those embarrassing-but-cute foal photos of Twili and Shining. I'm sure their friends will just love to see them! Especially our daughter-in-law."[/colour]

Velvet's horn ceased glowing, and her knitting needles jabbed into the fabric pile with two soft thwacks. She stood up and trotted over to Crescent, wrapping her arms around his neck. She nibbled his ear and put her hooves on his cheeks, looking him right in his gorgeous pale eyes. [colour=#9966CC]"Did the stars tell you any of their secrets today? Also, what would you like for dinner? I don't feel like cooking tonight after all that knitting, so you get the pleasure!" [/colour]Velvet's face changed. [colour=#9966CC]"Oh, right, I forgot to tell you. This came today!" [/colour]Her horn glowed pale purple, and a parchment fluttered out of her fabric pile. It was adorned with a fancy seal and gold trim. It flicked open. [colour=#9966CC]"Ahem...The Sparkles are cordially invited to a Gathering of Elegance, on morrow's eve as half past the eventide. A housewarming gift is encouraged and appreciated at this most prestigious of gatherings."[/colour] The parchment rolled up and came to rest on Crescent's nose. [colour=#9966CC]"I know you're not fond of this sort of thing, but it might be a good idea for us to go. We haven't really made an appearance to Canterlot's elite in a while, not that it would matter...just you know, sometimes I worry...sort of. Kind of. Not really. We should go for fun." [/colour]Velvet bumped her flank against Crescent's side as she saddled back down to the overstuffed sofa. [colour=#9966CC]"Go, my Prince, and fulfill your husbandly duties!"[/colour]

[SteelEagle]

Crescent had learned many things in his long marriage to Velvet. Many of them were simply informed observations that allowed him to tailor his homelife to Velvet's pleasure, which in turn became his. What her favorite foods were, favorite colour, the list was as simple and undefined as it was long and rather pointless in the big picture. A few were more important and concerned her thoughts, feelings, and beliefs. Oddly, despite the intensity that such things often carried as they were tethered to the soul, he could get away with disagreeing with her there and generally not lining up with everything she believed. In a successful relationship, what was more important than your beliefs was the respect and love you had for each other. He had learned that lesson well and early and knew that was a key to his success.

The final batch, however, were lessons he learned by living with Velvet.

First.

[colour=#660000]"I did! I picked up that box you had me order, some wrapping paper, and the other things you ordered," [/colour]His horn glowed as out of his saddlebag appeared the packing equipment. He laid it all next to her enormous, almost obscene, collection of socks. They wouldn't be found wanting in the winter, that much was for sure. The first lesson was that when your wife asks you to pick something up and it isn't an inconvenience, you do so merrily. It seemed a trite lesson to learn but the number of stallions who negotiated this was a little off putting. Love and commitment was about doing the small and uncomfortable things without thought- that way, when you stood your ground on an issue of importance, your resistance carried deep meaning to your partner.

Two.

[colour=#660000]"That sounds great. I'll get the albums after dinner. Should we send the picture of Twilight eating her diaper to Spike, Princess Celestia, or save it for when we show up at her new place unannounced? Hopefully all her friends will show up," [/colour]He finished with a smile, taking his saddlebag off as his horn glowed, taking it to it's perch near the door. When your wife had a project, no matter how silly, involve yourself if she offers. Commitment made you one pony with two souls, not just best friends hanging out with some side benefits. He was committed to not only love her and help her prosper, but make her happy. Few things made her as happy, and thus put a smile on his face, as one of her silly little projects.

Three.

[colour=#660000]"The stars were silent today, sadly. Nothing interesting and the professors at the university didn't bring me much to chew on,"[/colour] He finished and let the dinner remark hang as he took it upon himself to saunter into the kitchen. Pots, pans, utensils, plates, and supplies started moving about the kitchen. Within a few moments the table was set and the cooking was in order as he approached the sink, washed his hooves, and considered what to cook. The third lesson was even when you were a bit perturbed, decide if something is worth the argument before you reply. He didn't want to cook and was vexed that Velvet had decided not to do it, but it was a minor issue. He'd cook, eat, clean, and then bring it up before he left for work tomorrow. Besides, she nibbled his ears and that made him giddy. Lesson four was to be okay with being manipulated because you were going to be and after you got past yourself, it was okay.

Five.

[colour=#660000]"That sounds like it could be fun, Vel, but I'm not sure if we can attend. We might have to deliver the finished projects to be delivered after I work tomorrow, and those places are clear across the city. You could go if you want, though,"[/colour] He finished as he started looking through what they had. Ever since the children had left home they'd both made pledges to eat healthier but neither had really kept up with it for more than a few days. Iceberg lettuce and grapes dominated their supply, but it that or hay and he didn't feel like a hay sandwich. The fifth lesson was that while you wanted to be involved with your loved one, it was important to at least give them the option of doing things on their own. You didn't want to smother them, despite your best intentions. Thinking back on lesson four, he was more than fine with the flank bump and returned it maybe a moment too late as she went away. He wasn't the fastest stallion in the world anymore.

[colour=#660000]"If you want me to go, we'll probably have to show up a bit late. I'd need to make the delivery, come home, get cleaned up, get ready, then we can head out. If not, then I can maybe show up a little late for work and we can get a good gift in the morning-"[/colour] a slight pause as he took out some ingredients and poked his head in, [colour=#660000]"how does tomato and celery soup sound? I'm thinking daisy sandwiches on the side," [/colour]he didn't wait for a response before he plopped them on the table. He levitated a knife over and started cutting them up thinly, while a pot found itself under the sink and water was poured.

[colour=#660000]"So, how was your day? How many socks did you knit, a million or a billion?"[/colour]

[Rosewind]

Velvet was taught by her mother, early, that stallions came in all shapes, sizes, and other undefinable elements. She had "saddled" quite nicely (not to mention swiftly) with her Crescent love not only because he was a bright young stallion (at the time), but he was also a very, very deep pond that she could emotionally swim in. The surface was reflective and pure, with deeper currents running within. This was a definition of their love for each other, and part of what gave breadth to the Sparkle family mystique.

Having been married to Crescent for so long, entire conversations could be had with a glance, a smirk, or the slow lifting of an eyebrow, though the latter was reserved for when the two were in groups with many, many young mares present. The leash was barbed and sharp, though she feigned to tug on it unless out of absolute necessity.

[colour=#9966CC]"Tomato soup and daisy sandwiches will be just fine," [/colour]she replied with a gushing smile, [colour=#9966CC]"and the socks number sixteen pairs of four. I suppose we could wrap up four of them with a bow and present them to a gift to the Nobility of Canterlot. Even the elite have hooves that get threatened with chill, right?" [/colour]The mare's horn glowed, and an album hovered in front of her. The pages turned slowly, as she tapped her hoof to her face in thought. [colour=#9966CC]"I was thinking of using Shining in the ballerina outfit. You know...this one!" [/colour]A slip of paper hovered out of the album, coming to rest next to the steaming bowls of soup.

(Image by Kryptchild!)

[colour=#9966CC]"I don't even remember why that happened. I made the silk for the dress, you know. It was from those glowing larvae found in Everfree. They only produce silk when you tickle them with a pegasus feather." [/colour]She frowned, giving her husband "the look." She could see he was already preparing to say it. Yes, a worm hitchhiked home in her saddlebag, devoured their stores of grain, ransacked the living room, and fluttered off toward Canterlot Castle. There might have been something in the Canterlot Current about it, too, but she was quick to hide the paper, siding with the story that the papermare misplaced their copy. Both of them agreed to never speak of it again. [colour=#9966CC]"Isn't he a cutie? We really should send copies of it to every pony under his command." [/colour]Velvet smiled. [colour=#9966CC]"Oh yes, I have something special planned for Twili. She's so busy these days in Ponyville, we never hear from her. EVER. You'd think our daughter would at least try to write us once in a while. Hmph." [/colour]Velvet crossed her arms, her horn glowing. A spoon made from copper (the Sparkle family refused to use silver spoons) hovered off the table, dipped in the soup, gave it a stir, and popped into her mouth. [colour=#9966CC]"You forgot the salt, honey." [/colour]Now to lay down the absolute expectation, something her mother taught her, in addition to picking the right stallion and washing behind her ears. [colour=#9966CC]"We're going to this function, and we'll be unfashionably late if we must, but we will both arrive at the same time. I would not dare to go alone to a party without you, so we'll have to settle on the delivery of the package the day after tomorrow's morrow."[/colour]

Velvet took a bite of her sandwich. [colour=#9966CC]"Scarves. I'll need to make two. Thank you for reminding me."[/colour]

[SteelEagle]

The key to the perfect soup was remembering all the little ticks that went into it that made the experience rather pleasurable. Soup was soup; it was hard to mess it uP! That didn't stop him or Velvet- though he had the manners to not say so as he gulped the mess down- from messing it up once in a while and leaving the other struggling to down the contents in such a way that didn't leave the other too embarrassed That was when small signs of communication came in handy and the truth of any successful relationship lay in the meaning of a gesture or movement that was only discernible to the lovers in question. For example, Crescent was in trouble when he spoke with a few professors who happened to be young mares at a work party if Velvet was present. The fact it was professional courtesy and it was important to his career to establish good working relationships with them.

What had been a real problem had been when he had foolishly used the word relationship when he tried to explain to his young wife at the time the inner workings of the astronomy sector of the university. The dog house was supposed to be for the pup they were planning on adopting, not him, so the week or so he had spent out there proved a rather cold one. Maybe she had mistaken his case of sniffles that resulted for some sort of sorrowful apology, but either way, Shining was a rather decent result of the following makeup. The point was, as he came back to his wife mentioning he needed salt, that you came to know somepony so well that eventually the day to day of life happened without your conscious mind informing your decisions. Bliss could be defined as being able to cook soup, knowing you would forget the soup, knowing your wife would call you on it, finishing the soup, and not a second of your life taken up by it. It was just an interlude between discussions.

Another lesson of his, one that his father had taught him through action and not by words, was letting your wife finish once engaged before responding. Admittedly he had been tempted to prod her about the worm and the resultant tabloid rumors of trouble in the castle, but time had shown that to be a particularly sore topic. You didn't get far by prodding an angry manticore, which was actually a very accurate metaphor for a wife who could levitate a wooden spoon alongside your skull while having a hooficure. Crescent started chopping some celery stalks up while adding in some salt. As that happened, he poked his head in. Yep. That picture. Poor Shining, it was going to get sent to his lovely wife-Princess of Love-ruler of the Crystal Empire. He could try to save his reputation otherwise, though.

[colour=#663300]"Yep! I remember that. Poor colt was so worried about taking anything that seemed so un-stallionly. I had to tell him all about how the Guard looked at your after school activities as part of the application and how ballet and organized dance were well-respected,"[/colour] He gave a chuckle, levitating the picture closer. Shining was a wonderful and respectful colt, which meant that few pictures were as embarrassing as this. It was a family treasure.

Of course, they couldn't send it to those under his command. He had to have the respect of those who were under his command and this picture in the wrong hooves was the sort that was authority eroding. It was his right- as a stallion and a leader of the mares and stallions devoted to an ideal of daring, danger, and honor- to decide what aspects of his life he shared with them. That didn't mean though that he couldn't get enjoyment out of imagining him squirm around his wife.

[colour=#663300]"Hmmm, I think it'd be funnier if we sent the picture to his wife alone. Maybe she can make it the official Crystal Empire seal?" [/colour]He laughed at the image of a thirty story tall ballerina Shining Armor over the entrance to the empire. It was a comical image.

[colour=#663300]"Plus, we don't want to undermine his authority in his unit. Thanks for the reminder,[/colour]" he nodded as he over-salted the soup, just the way she liked it. He hated it, butt his opinions had ceased to matter ages ago.

[colour=#663300]"And you know that our little Twi is just very busy. She was good about keeping in contact when she was here in the city, but Ponyville is a little bit away. Besides, we haven't even visited her house yet. If we aren't too busy, we can always visit her instead. I'm sure she'll like that," [/colour]Crescent finished tossing the chopped celery into the soup and started to take care of the daisy bread, chopping the flowers from their growth spots and getting the bed while he started to warm up the second stove.

[colour=#663300]"And if you want me to go, just make sure to have my suit ready when I get home. I won't have time to dig anything up, and this means you'll need to get up extra early the day after to take care of the flytrap feedings. I won't have the energy,"[/colour] He finished, banking on being able to exchange an undesirable social event for the extra sleep the next morning. It was these sorts of trades that a smart stallion made. Best to seal the deal with a compliment.

[colour=#663300]"And knowing how good you are, I'm sure the socks will be more than adequate as gifts. Their little hoofsies get cold just like our middle class hooves. Speaking of, those red socks you made for me were a hit with the faculty,"[/colour] he added. It was a lie, but a good one. No one had commented on them, but if she ever asked, everypony would have the social grace to say they loved them. Plus it made her happy. Win(Velvet)-Win(Crescent)-Win(Flytraps, who liked Velvet more than Crescent anyway).

He toasted the bread, toasted the daisies, and floated two sandwiches- which landed delicately on Velvet's head. He snickered.

[colour=#663300]"Eat up! The soup should just be a little while longer."[/colour]

[Rosewind]

Velvet was satisfied that dinner was coming along nicely, so she began to magically dig through her fabric pile as her sandwich hovered next to her. She had bolts of cotton the colour of duckling down, raspberry bright reds, and blues the colour inspired by the first wisps of dawn. [colour=#9966CC]"Yellow and red, or red and blue?" [/colour]Velvet called from her perch on the couch, eyeballing her cloth back and forth. [colour=#9966CC]"You know I'm just kidding, dear. I would never embarrass Shining in front of his subordinates, but I do like the idea of his likeness in the dress becoming Crystal Empire couture!" [/colour]She opened her mouth to bite from the sandwich, then reconsidered, choosing to speak again. [colour=#9966CC]"That actually sounds like a good idea. We'll have to go visit Ponyville soon to visit our little filly. I hear they have a bakery and dress maker that are both quite fantastic." [/colour]

Velvet bit slowly into her sandwich, rolling the crushed daisy petals around her tongue. A deal, he wanted? A deal he would have. She had sewn Crescent's suit for him, and it was quite handsome. It took her a minimum of six weeks to make the fabric, which was spun from fibers from minute flax flowers found growing out in the Castle grounds. It was a deep shimmery green with carved wooden embellishments -- handsome in a natural and reserved way, while still elegant enough to draw peeks from Canterlot's lofty denizens. [colour=#9966CC]"I will feed your awful little flowers," [/colour]she said firmly, [colour=#9966CC]"but I may not vouch for their continued safety, especially if they were to accidentally be left in open sunlight for a few hours or six."[/colour] Bite. She hated the flytraps almost as much as under-salted soup. They had little tendrils that -- while normally reserved for snaring flying insects -- were also quite adept at tickling her flank. She swore upon the stars burning above that there was some other motive for the lechery of the botany, another mystery of her life that needed answering. It would have to wait, and she resigned herself to her pact with her stallion love.

The knitting needles clicked together, and she chewed huffily, as the first of a scarf began to spill out from the motions of the fabric threads weaving together.

[colour=#9966CC]"I think I have writer's block. I can't squeeze, eek, push, shove, relay, or otherwise tell a story right now, so any inspiration will help; even a hoity-toity Canterlot party can work its own kind of magic." [/colour]Bite. Swallow. [colour=#9966CC]"Maybe a mystery? [/colour][colour=#9966CC]The Case of the Flambéd Flytraps [/colour][colour=#9966CC]sounds like a workable title. I hope this soup will be inspirational, too, honey."[/colour]

[SteelEagle]

The soup was finished with flair, basil and other spices tossed in somewhat liberally. Velvet liked spice. Therefore, Crescent loved spice. The excess water he drank as a consequence was no mean thing. The sacrifices made for love were often turned to sincere tastes over time. This was not one of those cases; basil was an enemy of Crescent and Crescent an enemy of basil. He wouldn't mind if the whole stock of basil for the nation went up in a puff of delightful smoke and the whole industry went under for that matter, but then again Velvet would be happy. But no more basil? Hard decision. Was sabotaging a whole industry punishable by banishment? He'd have to look into it. A battle of wills between the good side and bad side of a pony's soul was sure to be waged while he gulped down another bowl of basil-poisoned soup. Cider would be the cure.

He poured two large bowls while he finished up all the extra sandwiches, chopping the sandwiches up into quarters and levitating the bowls away from him. Then he started levitating the sandwiches and he could feel himself strain. He did every night, but didn't want to admit it. Unicorn magic when it involved physical tasks grew weaker and weaker over time, just as an Earth Pony's muscles faded and a Pegasi's wings grew ragged. The strain was slight but like a marathon runner who dropped three places in just one year's time, there was a decline that he could feel. Oh well; until such time that his horn fizzled out and he needed to see a doctor about performance issued, he'd continue to act as if everything was fine. Even after he'd probably act like everything was fine. Didn't everypony need help as they got older? Maybe he'd join the EARP.

He landed the food in front of the pair as he cantered out towards his wife, finally settling in and curling up. He took a huge, almost impolite bite out of his sandwich as she continued to threaten his lovely flytraps. She may not have been a fan of their bitey ways, but she had to kno that without them, they wouldn't be able to grow the beautiful flowers that either made their home glow or lined their stomachs. Especially with the rash of parasprites that had emerged recently, you didn't want to take chances. The flytraps gobbled them up. The parasprites would then fight their way out, but the little buggers- as adorable as they were- would be scared and couldn't get away fast enough. So, despite her cute little threats, he knew that Gary, Jerry, and Terry were safe and sound. Probably.

[colour=#660000]"You're cute when you threaten harmlessly,"[/colour] He stated with a chuckle when she was finished, [colour=#660000]"though I like the title of that book. Sounds like it could be a children's short story about magical, mutated flytraps. Those stories are still popular with the kids, right? I hope they are. I know when Shining and Twilight were foals they loved it. Are we still with it?"[/colour] He asked, thanking himself that at the very least her dislike of flytraps had been consistent.

[colour=#660000]"As for Twi, I think I can get some time off next month. Visit her for a few days. Maybe see if that little dragon of hers has managed to burn the whole town down," [/colour]He said, taking a sip of his soup. Ignoring the vileness of basil, it was delicious. He was worried about Spike, though. No matter Celestia's assurances to the contrary, a dragon was a dragon and a a dragon was dangerous. He was cute now, but one day, he'd be a big dragon. Any parent not terribly concerned about it was a parent not truly concerned about their child's well-being.

[colour=#660000]"How's your soup?"[/colour] Crescent asked, swallowing another mouthful of basil.

[Rosewind]

Velvet snorted pretentiously as the bowl of soup hovered in front of her and plopped down to the table. Her knitting ceased for a moment, and the half-finished scarf fluttered down to her craft pile. The needles neatly flicked into the organized chaos of the tangle. She magically lifted her spoon again, giving the soup several test stirs. She supped the steaming, pink liquid. [colour=#9966CC]"Too much basil, love, but I guess it will do!" [/colour]She glanced over to the windowsill, where three squat, bulbous plants perched, their leaves and green tendrils curled around them. They were roosting quietly, waiting for a chance insect, parasprite, mare, or otherwise moving object to approach. She narrowed her gaze at them, looking to her husband with a smile.

[colour=#9966CC]"So, about this package. I have Twili's surprise planned. For the other stuff, we have a wooden bookmark carved to look like a dragon's tongue. Did you think she would prefer sparkly pink hoofpolish to go with her mane streaks and cutie mark, or lavender to match her coat? For Shining we have barley protein bars, a picture frame with a note tucked inside that says 'grandfoal photo goes here' and headache pills. He is married, after all."[/colour] Velvet sipped her soup again, prodding her half-eaten sandwich with her spoon. Sudden realization hit her. [colour=#9966CC]"My dress! I need to find one for tomorrow. Aaaah!" [/colour]Velvet paused. [colour=#9966CC]"Nevermind, I have it figured out."[/colour][colour=#000000] [/colour][colour=#000000]Her mind really was like a storm.[/colour] It was not uncommon for her to think of things, and unthink them just as quickly. It was her whimsy and rite as an author of stories to have sudden surges of inspiration plucked from a torrent of creative ether. Her fabric craft worked the same way. She was even stewing on creative ways to hide the evidence of several doomed flytraps. She considered feeding them to Crescent -- wouldn't that that be delicious irony? She shook her head as she sipped over-basiled soup. No, too cruel. Those plants were like extended family to her husband. Maybe during winter time she could nudge them off the... [colour=#9966CC]"I have a lovely green dress that would go well with yours. We'll match like a peanut butter and hay sandwich! Or like a comet to the black void of space, its wispy trail of dust and ice tearing across the heavens like a cosmic zipper. I like that one." [/colour]

Velvet's horn glowed light lavender, and a notebook bound with cotton twill slipped out of her pile. It flicked open, and a pre-inked quill scribbled as she mumbled to herself. She grinned to her love. [colour=#9966CC]"That's definitely a keeper." [/colour]The notebook flicked shut as she sipped the last of her soup. [colour=#9966CC]"Shall we stargaze tonight, or have you had enough of that for today?"[/colour]

[SteelEagle]

A wife was never fully pleased, Crescent had discovered over his long, long years of marriage. He never had a chance at getting the basil level right. His lovely wife would have complained of too much or too little but he had banked on the fact that there wasn't too much he could do about an over-basiling of the soup. So, Velvet's backhooved complaint about the soup illicited a solemn nod from her husband who internally was breathing a huge sigh if relief. He would take these small victories because Celestia knew she won all the important battles! A husband had no proper response to the silent treatment except bewilderment, annoyance, and finally acceptance that, yes, it was all your fault and you had to do something to make it up to her. He had always believed there was some sort of secret feminine cabal that planned these things and in all honesty he still hadn't shaken free of that belief. Still, he took his victory with a sense of pride as he let her talk.

Twilight's surprise was sure going to be surprising. She may have been a mare but even the most independent of mares needed to be reminded that she was deeply loved by her parents, and it didn't hurt to occasionally pay her back for the years of embarrassment any foal provided. Especially a foal who seemed to hav e been smarter than the average one, and any and all unicorn foals were inherently trouble. Payback was beautiful, but it was still about the love. Shining was due a break from marriage but headache pills would have to do. He knew for a fact that it was like trying to stem a tsunami with a single paddle but any and all relief he could give to his beleaguered son would do. It didn't help that Velvet wanted grandfoals so quickly, forgetting in all of her rosie flash images of a fantastic childhood she had provided their children that the strain and stress that came along with them. Cadance was a Princess and ruler of an Empire that had just emerged from a eons long slumber. His son was Prince of that Empire and still had duties to attend to as Captain of the Royal Guard. Adding foals to the equation was like adding fuel to a fire and then after you had started to see the fire grow, throwing in the whole canister while firing off streams of the stuff from the top of the mountain. Still, he couldn't deny they would make some beautiful grandchildren and how many grandponies could say their grandfoals were the fillies and colts of an alicorn?

He was about to finish his soup when Velvet went supernova for a brief moment before coming back down. She was prone to those organic outbursts, her mind working on the very edge of reason and intersecting with bursts of thoughts and words. Where others were a line with stops and turns, she was a ball of expression rolling without obstacles to obstruct. It was the source of her wild and energetic creativity that crackled around her like a beautiful disease just as easily as it was the source of her swirling sense of near-thoughtless speech. Crescent loved it. He didn't have the mental makeup or the courage to be that way, preferring the safety of his well-intentioned civility and comfortable sense of security in habit and ritual. She recovered and was soon back on track, discussing the party. He had no doubt that her keen fashion sense would see them looking like a fine pair at the gathering, though from his previous experience such lofty ambitions lasted only as long as it took for the snobs to see you were an interesting pony and, unlike them, didn't find discussing high society social gossip all that exciting. Then you could blissfully be left alone for the rest of the evening. Good plan, he thought.

Then she asked about stargazing, and his response was immediate.

[colour=#330000]"I've been stargazing since I came home," [/colour]He said with a smile, still locking eyes with her,[colour=#330000] "but I suppose maybe later we can go outside and see those stars, too,"[/colour] Crescent said, finishing the soup with a hearty sigh.

[colour=#330000]"I'm not sure which she would prefer, to be honest. You're the mare, you should know! Maybe lavender Less flashy and she doesn't strike me the type to want to be flashy. But maybe she does want to sparkle. I dunno. She's a young mare now, we should ask,"[/colour] He took a huge bite out of his sandwich,[colour=#330000] "for Shining, did you get him enough pills? Not that I'd know how many he'll need, but they say you need to eat with them and we sent a lot more bars than pills. Oh, and I've got a few books I'll be sending him, too. Not sure if they sell these in the Crystal Empire,"[/colour] he opened a closet and levitated over to them several tomes. Most were, to his taste, rather bland. Memoirs of historical campaigns or anecdotes of ponies at war from ancient times coupled with more instructural pieces mixed in with strategic and tactical works.

[colour=#330000]"I think he'll like these. Is this the same dress as last time with the rip, or did you fix it? Is it new?"[/colour] [colour=#330000]he smiled, "at least one good thing will come of this party. You should become a dressmaker. Remember Twilight's little party dress you made for her when she was just a little filly?"[/colour]

[Rosewind]

Velvet's critique of the soup was quite accurate, as there really was too much basil. It was like an herbal nightmare tonic on the tongue. While she loved strong themes in stories and in her woven creations, the act of soup was meant to be one of simplicity, a play of many elements, with no one single thing overwhelming the other. Still, she appreciated her husband's effort to prepare the evening meal, and slurped delightfully on the pale green-flecked pink broth with a smile that could charm the antennae off a cricket. [colour=#9966CC]"Stargazing since you got home?" [/colour]Velvet's cheeks flushed pale pink against her light grey coat. Her husband's chivalrous charm was much stronger than the basil of the soup. Stargazing indeed.

The mare's eyes lowered to the three stars contrasting brightly against her flank. Stargazing could also go on to mean other things, such as plenty of hugging, smooching, nibbling of the ears, and of course -- the penultimate show of love between couples -- stealing of the bed sheets on chilly nights. Velvet had made their bedsheets, and as a craftsmare of the clothier persuasion, these sheets were quite custom to be big enough for stealing, and then some, while allowing the other to sleep comfortably. She was quite proud of her achievement, and made it a point to embark such a project for Shining and her daughter-in-law sometime in the near future. However, for now, the scarves, socks, hollow picture frame, embarassing photo, and barley energy bars would have to do. Velvet slapped her hooves down on the table. [colour=#9966CC]"Socks! I'm such a fool! I'm not sure the ones I have will fit her! Arrrgh!" [/colour]She raised the bowl of basil soup to her lips and inhaled it, lapsing into a polite burp. [colour=#9966CC]"The books for Shining sound fine, dear. Excuse me, I completely forgot that Cadance's feet may not accept my current sock design. Details, you know!"[/colour]

Velvet actually didn't leave her chair. Her horn glowed, and the implements of her sock production slithered out of her craft pile. [colour=#9966CC]"It certainly can get chilly up there, proper socks are a must."[/colour] As her latest project clicked together, she busied herself with the last half of her sandwich, looking into Crescent's eyes dreamily. He was quite a stallion. [colour=#9966CC]"I know I'm the mare, but you know your daughter as well as I. I just need confirmation. Lavender with sparkles it is." [/colour]Velvet pointed to Crescent with a pale grey hoof. [colour=#9966CC]"You've got some basil specks on your teeth, sweetie. Now, about the dress...did you mean the rip from tripping over that large branch, or the rip from the alley cat? Both got fixed a while ago." [/colour]Velvet nodded in reflection. [colour=#9966CC]"I do remember Twili's dresses. The little party dress with stars on it or the flowers? I remember doing both. There was also a third, if you recall, that we did for Nightmare Night. That one really was a pain to make because I had to find tufts of black fur, purple glitter, and bright yellow beads."[/colour] Velvet presented a sock with lavender and yellow stripes to her love. [colour=#9966CC]"Fit for Princess feet, ya think?"[/colour]

[SteelEagle]

His attempts at flirting and generally playing the part of a younger stallion, and it mostly was just that, playing, sometimes backfired. Well, usually backfired. If he passed off the normal rigors of his job as some sort of joint-destroying mission that made his body quake with pain and anguish, he could get out of further chores, his husbandly duties shifted into the next day. And wouldn't you know it, they had big plans for that day. No mopping, sweeping, dusting, organizing, or impromptu grocery excursions for the benefit of his lovely lady. His shot across the bow seemed to work as she examined herself, and he felt himself relax. Come what may, he was happy to believe that he could shirk some of his duties that night. He never claimed to be the perfect husband, merely the perfect stallion. The differences were vast.

Stargazing indeed.

Velvet went about her sock mission, and her craft skills were certainly a beauty to behold. He couldn't really pin it down, but he knew that mares in socks were undeniably adorable and his wife more than the rest was more than happy to not only look adorable in them, but make them as gifts. She was the epicenter of the adorable apocalypse, a wave of cute that battered down even the most stout-hearted of stallions. Did Royalty have a solution to this problem? Probably not. It was all a plot of the feminine cabal at any length and he knew that as stallion after stallion was overwhelmed, each and every one of them would suffer alone. He knew that one day his little mind would no longer have the capability to resist his wife's subtle hoof-charms, probably in a light purple satin quad of socks, and he'd be reduced to agreeing with everything she ever said. No resistance, just agreement. But goshdarnit, if his wife in socks was wrong, he didn't want to be right.

Plus it was her charity of spirit and action that probably made her so irresistible the sort of presence that forced its way into the crevices of heart and soul. Looking ravishing was just the icing on a cake that had been baking for just the right age and had a taste that required a certain familiarity. Like a hot cup of cocoa on a cold day, it was delightful and filled him with a sense of calm and leisure even when life threatened to be pure anarchy. It always teetered on that thin line between barely contained chaos and pure panic masquerading as anarchy. Cities could be like that and if somepony lacked a release valve they could be lost in the careless shuffle. Luckily, he had a life raft that kept him afloat. The bonus was that it looked quite fetching in socks.

Back on the subject of Twilight-

[colour=#800000]"Yes, but if it were up to me I'd just get her more books. All that hoofpolish stuff, that's your domain. I hardly wear it,"[/colour] he finished with a smile, referencing that place and time and those other places and times. Boredom in the winter and limited venues to entertain oneself plus a peculiarly entertained wife equaled experimentation. Luckily, no photos existed. Or if they had, they had gone missing in the fireplace and were never heard from again.

[colour=#800000]"I was referring to the branch. Either way, nice to know they're fixed. You made those dresses so well that I doubt you'd even fit in them anymore. You always made things for just the exact size, and I don't believe you're pregnant again,"[/colour] His sandwich was gone as he laid another piece of bait on the line for her to bite.

[colour=#800000]"For Twily's old dresses, I was thinking maybe you can make them again, but one for Twilight and another for her little Dragon. I'm sure he'd appreciate being part of the family,"[/colour] He finished stacking his plates as a new sock was tossed in front of him. He nodded.

[colour=#800000]"It's very nice. I love the colours, dear. Maybe add some scents to it? That's the rage with the young mares. I think it's a bit garish, but the other professors tell me that all the mares are adding scents to their clothing," [/colour]He gave a loud laugh, [colour=#800000]"Professor Tome Speller tried to add this scent to his suit, but now he smells like daisies and can't get it off. Though he says the mares in his class can't get enough of it and try to gossip with him after class about where to get it, which he uses to his benefit. Tome Speller is a player that way,"[/colour] Crescent ended as he trotted into the kitchen, levitating everything he had used to cook into the sink. He stole away Velvet's bowl and started levitating her sandwich plate as he he turned the water on, flicking the detestable basil off of his teeth.

[colour=#800000]"Are you finished entirely, Velv?"[/colour]

[Rosewind]

Velvet was a clothier by trade, but her sock craftsmareship was second to none, as she had made a hobby out of knitting and putting socks on things as a younger filly. She thought it was quite amusing to create warming garments for tree branches, door handles, and other assorted objects besides hooves. It was a practice of whimsy, which was a font for creativity in her other endeavors. As a result, she was quite speedy with knitting, and soon had a two pair of striped socks, ripe for Princess feet. She would sometimes wear socks to tease her love, and it was not uncommon for her to place socks in random places to slowly torment him...except that one time she left one in the oven, and he didn't check before preheating it. They had to temporarily vacate their home in the middle of winter for several days before the atmosphere was livable again. [colour=#9966CC]"She lives in a library for Celestia's sake, do you really think she wants more books?" [/colour]Velvet paused for a second, her face a blank slate of realization. [colour=#9966CC]"Don't answer that, honey." [/colour]

Unbeknownst to her husband, she vividly remembered when he stole some of her hoofpolish and -- for trots and giggles -- tried it out. It had inspired a story about a particularly free-spirited kumquat that wanted to live on an apple tree. Their story didn't end with hoofpolish -- he allowed her to perm his mane, lightly blush him with powdered rose petals, and tint his lips with strong, dark cherry juice. Spirit and spirits were high in abundance that night, as she could only recall half of that winter evening. Cabin fever did have its symptoms, and out of the ordinary activities were the only cure. Several photos had been saved from the ravaging jaws of the hearth, kept in her secret box stuffed behind her dress cabinet for review upon their anniversary, sometime in the long-off future.

Velvet snapped another bite of her sandwich as she dreamily listened to her husband chat about her dresses. He was so smart. Brilliant, even. She couldn't think of another wonderful stallion she would rather spend the rest of her life with. Her heart fluttered like several thousand butterflies caught in a glistening, gossamer web of passion.

The storm came. The mare looked on disbelief, her ears flat, as she listened to her husband relay that she probably wouldn't fit in her dress anymore. And...not pregnant again? Velvet choked on her last bite of daisy sandwich. Several petals flew out her nose as she gasped, which fluttered to the table, coated thinly with moisture. [colour=#9966CC]"Ack...WHAT did you just say?! Ack...ack!" [/colour]She coughed, clearing her windpipe. Several things had just gone down the wrong way, and she had to endure recovery before retribution. She slammed her hooves on the table, hoisting her body up. [colour=#9966CC]"I too will fit in my dresses, just as well as when I made them! I...I bet I'd even fit into my daughter's dresses too! Hmph!" [/colour]She shot Crescent a burning glare, slumping down in her chair, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest. Her knitting needles jabbed into the wooden table top with two strong, sickening thumps. The table shook from the force.[colour=#9966CC] [/colour][colour=#9966CC]"I'll have to remind you that I go out for a jog every morning. I've had two of our children, and I only eat half slices of cake. Whenever we have cake! You're the one always insisting we should get it!"[/colour] Velvet normally wasn't terribly vain about appearances, but she was quite prideful as a mare, and worked hard to maintain her elegance and grace of form, especially after mothering two precocious foals.

She grumbled darkly to herself as she watched her husband sheepishly dispatch the dishes and talk about adding scents to her fabrics. She had tried it once with blue cheese, figs, and honey -- her inspiration coming from a cheese plate -- with mixed results. She replied to her stallion love again, though her tone indicated he wasn't far out of the woods -- in fact, he was deep, deep inside them. [colour=#9966CC]"I'm not sure if Twilight would like that...dear. She's a young mare that enjoys simplicity over froo-froo. Please clean the kitchen, I can't stand the thought of having a dirty kitchen while we're out at a party. We're not savages." [/colour]Velvet magically plucked her knitting needles from the table top and started clicking together the last of her scarf project, her cheeks muddled light pink from her frustration. [colour=#9966CC]"Don't forget to mop!"[/colour]

[SteelEagle]

Rarely did Crescent's plans have the desired effect on his wife, as her usual deflection and re-orientation dizzied him. But he had seen it coming and even with her not getting the actual point of his little jab had reacted wonderfully nonetheless. He had meant it as a snide compliment; she made her dresses beautifully, to the last stitch matched the size she shot for with the fashion sense she thought best. It was a thing of beauty, both seeing her work and seeing how good she looked in the dress. This was the lynchpin of his whole strategy tonight: Distract her from making him clean far too much. If not, this house would be spotless and he would be exhausted, falling asleep sometime around two or three in the morning.

Washing the dishes was a relaxing activity. Easelessly easy with unicorn magic, washing and drying happened almost without his knowledge. Repitition over years of marriage as his wife's skills at dish-clearing were second to last in class which left him as the go to stallion for the job. When he sought to find meaning in lesser activities during stretches of rather all-encompassing boredom, he found many similarityies between his job and the dishes. Both jobs were easy and generally done for the benefit of others. At home, his wife needed clean dishes. At work, professors needed real material to back up their wild claims. All he did was do as he was told by those in positions of authority and get the rewards afterwards. A nice side effect was that when he did resist an order, they tended to fall in line. You let them win all the battles and saved your strength for the big ones. Excellent strategy!

The dishes were done in just a minute, a smile on his lips as behind him his wife went about her little fit. She was cute when her emotions flared, but he also said that about everything she did. She was just a cutie. An angry, magical cutie with blackmail, but a husband learned that day to day life and blackmail were really the same things. Now that he had gotten her this way, stage two of the plan could take off.

[colour=#330000]"Well, I'm sure you could fit into them, Velvet. You're certainly lively!"[/colour] He finished it off with an impish tone, setting up the kitchen to be moped.

[colour=#330000]"You know, you should see if you still look as good in those dresses as you claim. If you do, then well, ypu'll be very pleased tonight. If not, then we can always start donating to the poor-mare's store down the street..."[/colour]

Your move, sweetie!

[Rosewind]

Twilight Velvet sat back on her haunches, her aqua-blue eyes glancing to the kitchen door. She could see her husband's shadow from the light, which was stretched oblong along the fluffy, orange carpet. Her knitting twirled haphazardly in the air as she gritted her teeth, thoroughly distracted. She wrapped her gorgeous white-and-lavender-striped tail around her side, thinking of her next move. Marriage was like chess. Velvet was not particularly adept at the game -- in fact, she still wasn't quite sure how to play it. Her husband tried to show her once, but he quickly set up what he deemed an "impenetrable defense." Checkmate came soon after, as well as his trip to the couch that night. The game tonight would have to be Tic-Tac-Hoof. She would circle the Xs and leave him no way out.

[colour=#9966CC]"I actually tried on my dress when I got the letter,"[/colour][colour=#000000] [/colour][colour=#000000]she fibbed.[/colour] [colour=#9966CC]"Though I think that green is going out of style. Maybe I'll just wear my saddle,"[/colour][colour=#000000] [/colour][colour=#000000]she said out loud, more to herself than her cleaning husband.[/colour] Velvet wrinkled her nose. Fashion and fashion sense changed quite often -- and quickly -- in Canterlot, and she was feign to keep up with it at any given time. Saddles could have been last year for all she knew. [colour=#9966CC]"Make sure you get under the cabinets, dear! I found a year-old carrot under there once. It was dreadful." [/colour][colour=#000000]It also inspired a story about mummified veggies found in a tomb in Saddle Arabia, that came to life and stormed a nearby village.[/colour][colour=#9966CC] [/colour][colour=#000000]Velvet turned her distraction back to her knitting. She gasped. While her mind wandered around her latest quandary, so did her craft. She had knitted several socks into the side of her scarf. The needles ceased clicking together, and she magically stretched the scarf horizontally. Six striped socks dangled from the garment. She pressed her hoof to her forehead, groaning to herself. She would have to start over, or perhaps start a new fashion trend -- as well as several raised eyebrows from whichever of her children would receive her ill-fated gift. She could hear it now: Wow, mum is really losing it these days. Velvet wasn't that old. Not yet. She magically stuffed it into her pile 'o crafts and pulled out new thread.[/colour]

[colour=#9966CC]"By the way,"[/colour][colour=#9966CC] [/colour][colour=#000000]Velvet called to the kitchen, [/colour][colour=#9966CC]"I was thinking of rearranging our bedroom." [/colour][colour=#000000]"I", of course, meant "you" while she sat on the bed and helped by giving firm direction on the movement of the furniture placement. A mare's sense of bedroom science and theory was never to be questioned. [/colour][colour=#9966CC]"We could do that after you're done in the kitchen. I can see your zest for life burning in your eyes, it would be a shame to waste all of that energy." [/colour][colour=#000000]She was not the only one practiced in teasing snark. Velvet looked back to her knitting -- the scarf was taking shape, this time without surprise additions. Her mind wandered back to her dress. She could, of course, sneak it on later, possibly when Crescent was asleep, or just go with the saddle. If anything needed to be expanded, she supposed she could sneak into the bathroom and redo the stitching, perhaps widen the skirt...[/colour]

[colour=#9966CC]"Tea cozies!" [/colour][colour=#000000]She blurted out. [/colour][colour=#9966CC]"Do you think Twilight and Cadance would appreciate those? We could add them to the package." [/colour][colour=#000000]Velvet nibbled on her hooftip, as she tended to do when she was over-thinking something. [/colour][colour=#9966CC]"Is the kitchen almost done, honey? There's still lots to do before tomorrow!"[/colour][colour=#9966CC] [/colour]

[SteelEagle]

Crescent appreciated his lovely wife's ability to give as well as she took. well, give way more than she took, as she always seemed to him like a glass cannon. Of course, you dealt with a glass cannon through endurance and slipping in your moves when you could. Today however, maybe Crescent had overshot the landing and was about to crash instead of landing a graceful blow. What was important now was the recovery from Velvet's quick response which completely sidelined his original plan. He wished marriage was this perfect harmonic existence between two ponies, but that would be best friends. Marriage was like wrestling a bear except there were all sorts of moral, ethical, and legal complications with kicking somepony you were married to that didn't come into play when you kicked a bear. And you didn't share the house with the bear and the bear didn't tell you what to do or what to wear or what to eat. In all reality, fighting bears was better than marriage when your wife had a spur deep in her sides.

But you did what you could when you could and that excellent work ethic would shore up any weakness a pony possessed. Velvet mentioned cleaning under the cabinets, which was dandy as far as Crescent was concerned- he had cleaned it the day prior. But she didn't need to know that detail and he didn't betray it.

[colour=#800000]"Got it, sweetie," [/colour]He said in a sufficiently trained downtrodden voice, making clear he knew the punishment fit the supposed crime. He went with the motions, moving several cleaning supplies onto the counter. They'd come in useful in the morning. For now, some flattery.

She continued to get worried about all manner of things, a sure sign that she was upset about his remark. He hadn't meant it to offend her this much, nor did he see the insult the way she did. Then again, she was a mare and they were all verifiably insane. But there was a way to recover the night if she had already tried the dress on, which with her abundance of spare time about the house all day she may have done(though to be honest, she was never the best liar and he had more than an inkling as to the truth). Still, the key was to defuse for the moment. But sometimes the best way to defuse it was to rather blunt.

[colour=#800000]"No, not tonight, Velv. I'm tired. Perhaps another night or this weekend," [/colour]He responded swiftly and firmly to her suggestion that tonight would be the best time to do some heavy lifting. If he went along then she would see to it that he got no sleep as her revenge far outstripped his initial strike. He was already, as far as he was revealing to her, doing some extra cleaning duty. They should be even, but just in case the glass cannon was too dirtied by this he added some sweet fragrance to it.

[colour=#800000]"But that is an absolutely smashing idea! I am thinking we can move the maneboard away from the window this time, allow the sun to not burn our eyes out before we wake up. I'd rather not go blind in a few years,"[/colour] He laughed as he started to levitate the cleaning supplies back where they belonged and made his way into the living room.

[colour=#800000]"Tea cozies would be great, I think. Another good idea. Speaking of ideas, for our next walk, where do you want to go?"[/colour] He changed the subject, placing the ball squarely in her court as he finally moved himself on top of the loveseat and observed, especially the frankenscarfsockthingy in the pile.

[colour=#800000]"Well, that's a new design. Some fashion trend I'm not aware of?"[/colour]

[Rosewind]

[colour=#000000]Velvet's knitting needles snapped and clipped sharply, vomiting forth her creative work in a flurry of biting strikes. This reflected her mood quite nicely. She wriggled her nose, feeling an itch coming on. A word about nose itching. It only happened when Crescent was fibbing. This was her primary litmus test for shaking him out of untruth, but she knew where all of his buttons were, and which were okay to push or not. He was cleaning the kitchen as it was, and he didn't need her nagging him, as much as she emotionally hungered to do so. He said she wasn't pregnant anymore! Well, yes, she certainly wasn't, but it was the mere inkling, the idea that she wouldn't fit into her dress! She frowned, considering if it would cause any real damage to put one of her knitting needles up her husband's... [/colour][colour=#9966CC]"These tea cozies will look lovely, I think. I'll use my special jade-ink wool from Saddle Arabia and blend it with some carnation-dyed cotton blossom. Beads! Yes, I do need beads."[/colour]

The mare nosed through her craft pile. [colour=#9966CC]"Wood or glass, sweetie? Oh, I can't decide. Maybe both? Hmm." [/colour][colour=#000000]She flattened her ears, digging out several boxes from her crafting cataclysm. She looked up and smiled sweetly at her love as he entered the living room. She would inspect the kitchen later, but for now the penance was paid. She whisked her lovely white-and-lavender striped tail to the side to make room the blue stallion on the couch. The way he flopped down next to her...oh yes, he was really tired. She felt a small pang of remorse, then thought about her dress. Remorse. Dress. [/colour]Remorse. Dress. She decided to sleeve the bedroom rearranging. For now. [colour=#9966CC]"Very well, sweetie. Thank you for taking care of the kitchen...and for the lovely, herbaceous soup." [/colour][colour=#000000]She smooched him on the cheek.[/colour] [colour=#9966CC]"Walkies? Oh yes, I'd love to. I get to pick this time? We haven't been through the Canterlot Gardens lately." [/colour][colour=#000000]There was good reason for this. Last time they tried, they were jumped by several animals, and Crescent was nearly maimed by a toucan. It did have pretty feathers, even if it was trying to peck her husband to death. She resolved to return with a net and try to collect a few.[/colour] Her thoughts quickly shattered as her husband pointed out her scarf-sock.

[colour=#9966CC]"Multitasking," [/colour][colour=#000000]she replied, [/colour][colour=#9966CC]"with an added splash of fashion daring."[/colour][colour=#000000] The needles clicked in silence for several long moments.[/colour] [colour=#9966CC]"I suppose we might stargaze tonight, still" [/colour][colour=#000000]Velvet said, nipping Crescent's ear.[/colour] [colour=#9966CC]"Which constellations are out right now, anyway?"[/colour]

[SteelEagle]

Crescent loved his wife's innate creativity that exploded wonderfully onto whatever canvas was her playground that day. Many days it wwas the written word. Some days

it was an attempt at art. Still others, and today was one of them, he was a witness to her solid knitting skills. It wasn't the sort of thing she could have done for a

living, but he designs were of the quality home-sewn type that spoke to a certain love between parent and child that would make it a family heirloom that the actual

quality didn't well deserve. He sat there and watched her work her magic- well, it wasn't magic, more like a skill honed over the years- and one by one, her workload grew smaller while the organized chaos that passed as both her materials and completed projects grew.

Glass or wood was a common debate and one that he still had no part in; this was her domain, and all he could do was smile as she asked questions that got answered by herself a moment later. She thought out loud all the time while his thoughts bounced around internally long before he would dare give them the time to escape.

Otherwise he would say many foolish things, and if there was one thing he never did, it was say foolish things. The absolute picture of marital intelligence he was,

never drawing his wife's ire for any good cause. If she was angry, it was her own darn fault and he was happy enough with that belief as it didn't require a realization that he himself was capable of serious gaffes nor his occasional ineptitude. She continued, he smiled, he relaxed, and he even brought some pillows over and laid them snugly under the two of them as he relaxed on the couch.

[colour=#800000]"Yes, it has been a while since we went to the Gardens. Now that the fine is paid off, I'm sure we'll be allowed back in,"[/colour] he said warmly, forgetting through conscious effort the toucan incident. It had roughed his mane up and left him with a few cuts and bruises, but it hadn't been entirely responsible for him knocking over a priceless statue. That had been because of the honey badger that had popped off at his ankles and set him alright. He knew that if he tangled with it, he would have been on the losing end. He cared about all things great and small; everypony knew that honey badger don't care.

[colour=#800000]"Oh, you have the Little Dipper, Andromeda, Caelum, and Orion. Orion is especially beautiful as Rigel and Betelgeuse are bright. There are some others but-" [/colour]he yawned, [colour=#800000]"those are the ones tha look really nice. I expect Caelum to be missing for the next few nights though when the storm rolls in, but the timing looks great for most others,"[/colour] He re-positioned his head, nuzzling both it and his wife in the same motion. Both were warm.

[colour=#800000]"After the walk, we can catch a play as well. What was that off-maneway show you were so fond off?" [/colour]He asked as several blankets made their way around him. He doubted he was getting to bed; in all honesty, he had almost bored himself to sleep with the.

[Rosewind]

[colour=#000000]Velvet's needles clicked industriously, as two lacey tea cozies started to take form. She had selected wooden beads for this creative affair, nodding as she listened to her husband relate the constellations, and something about a storm. She knew a storm was coming already, as the wind outside had changed, and the air grew damper. It also made her horn tingle. She wondered if she could use the storm as a good excuse to wear her saddle instead of the dress. Would that even make sense? She blew upwards in frustration, clearing her straight-cut bangs out of her eyes. [/colour]

[colour=#000000]Back to crafts! She lowered her hoof to find her box of wooden beads, but was instead met with warm, blue flank, and several crescent moons gazing back at her. She lowered her facial features into somewhat of a frown, as a familiar snore graced her ears. Her husband was sleeping! This was all well and good, except he had decided to doze off on top of half on her crafts pile. Beads included. No problem. She was quite nimble with her hooves, the results of mothering, writing, and clothcraft. She could clean the fuzz off the hindquarters of a butterfly to weave silk without disturbing it, even. Now to put those skills into play. She gently reached lower, lower. She was good -- a true master of stealth! She could see her box of beads jutting out from just under her husband's right haunch. She would claim them like any caring wife would. Velvet's horn glowed soft lavender, and a pillow hovered up to her husband's snout. She nodded, a grin stretching across her lips.[/colour]

[colour=#000000]Thump! Whack! [/colour][colour=#9966CC]"GET OFF MY BEADS!" [/colour][colour=#000000]She announced. Loudly. She continued to whack Crescent with the pillow. Dust and several feathers puffed out and spun into the air. [/colour][colour=#9966CC]"Our babies need tea cozies! I will not gift them beadless!" [/colour][colour=#000000]Whomp![/colour] [colour=#9966CC]"If you're tired, go to bed! You might want to brush too, I can still see basil in your teeth!" [/colour][colour=#000000]The pillow dropped to the floor and she snuggled Crescent, pressing her warm cheek to his. [/colour][colour=#9966CC]"We'll snuggle when I'm all done here!" [/colour][colour=#000000]Never threaten the industry of a busy mare. Ever.[/colour] She nudged her love off the couch with her hind hoof, balls of yarn and bits of fabric spilling off the chair from every direction. [colour=#9966CC]"You're so cute when you wake up."[/colour]

[SteelEagle]

He may have been an older stallion but Crescent Sparkle had habits that he had first grown into as a colt. The sweet dreamscape that awaited him when he allowed himself to slip into beautiful sleep had always been marked by the strange constellations and movements of a universe that existed in the mind and wasn't held down by the harshness of reality's laws. Real life starts didn't sing songs or form up into big swords to fight off equally big monsters that were also formed from those very same stars. Dreams were terrible, wonderful things, and despite his age Crescent had never lost that same wondrous landscape of his dreams. He didn't shy away from telling his wife about the silly, almost adorable dreams, which made him feel oddly secure. Mostly silly, but a little sec-

-bap bap bap!

The pillows didn't hit with any power able to make them more than shockingly nuisances and nothing more, but his slow drift into dreamland hadn't ended by the time his wife had started her mellow beatdown. He came to in a haze of confusion- had he fallen asleep?- as the pillows shocked him. What the hay was happening? Where was he? His head shook and took annoyed looks immediately around him, feeling the motion of something below him being swiftly pulled out from under his head as the pillows continued their confusing assault on him. Then he heard his wife, her few sentences sorta mixing together as she pushed him uncouthly off the couch, a few threads of yarn being taken out with him. A single needle homed in on his flank and pierced it, which brought him quickly to his feet but otherwise no reaction as he took it al in. She could have simply nudged him, but then again, that would have been simple and wasn't violent enough so he shouldn't have expected that of her.

He yawned.

[colour=#800000]"That's-" [/colour]Another yawn as he floated a few pillows with him as he stumbled towards the bedroom, [colour=#800000]"-the bed and the sugar creamer, in the morning-"[/colour] he plopped down on the bed, snuggling deep i-

[colour=#800000]"Aaaaaaahooooooooo-"[/colour] And Crescent was sleeping.

[Rosewind]

[colour=#000000]Velvet was pleased to have her space back, but she hadn't placed her bits on the fact that she would tangle herself up in her crafts in reclaiming her territory. One of the rogue tea cozies dangled off her horn, three of her hooves tied together with a swath of blue cotton thread. She tried to stand up, but fell off the couch to the carpet instead. She imagined this was her penance for kicking her husband off to bed like a foal nuisance. She wriggled like a chubby grub caught in a spider's web, her hooves sticking straight in the air. She flicked her tail, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. She was tied up! [/colour][colour=#9966CC]"Really? I mean like, really, really?" [/colour][colour=#000000]She was NOT going to call for help. Oh no. Her husband would never let her live this down, especially considering her treatment of him mere minutes before.[/colour]

[colour=#000000]Twilight rolled onto her tummy, and crawled along the carpet like an inchworm, strings of thread trailing behind her. Stairs. That wasn't happening. She flattened her ears. She knew deep inside she deserved this, but she also knew this was a problem with a very easy solution. The only question was which would be the stealthiest and least damaging to her crafts. She didn't dare use magic, for fear of destroying her work, and cutting the threads were out of the question. She had spent hours weaving the individual threads, and would not suffer cutting them. More options? Fire. She'd probably set the drapes on fire. Again. She thought back once to her short-lived obsession with candles. She used to burn them by the dozens, which gave the inside of the Sparkle home a charming warm glow -- until she fell asleep, kicked several candles off the table (which sprayed hot wax all over the carpet which later hardened) and reduced her beautiful azure-silk lined, glittery drapes that took months of sewing into neat little piles of ash. [/colour]

[colour=#000000]She looked over to the window, where Crescent's trap plants were sleeping, their little leaves wrapped around their chubby stalks. Eureka![/colour] With a tea cozy still dangling from her horn, she made her way over to the awful little plants. They seemed quite happy to see her, which she could tell by the shaking and unfurling of the leaves, and the little mobile tendrils that emerged to greet her. They wrapped around the threads entrapping the mare, and expertly unfurled them from her hog-tied hooves. Velvet felt the threads loosen and drop away. The green tendrils tickled her sides. Lecherous plants. [colour=#9966CC]"Thank you,"[/colour] she said curtly to her saviours, tugging the pile of threadwork away from the plants. She would never live this down if Crescent found out. With a heavy sigh she returned her pile of crafts to the couch, flicking the finished tea cozy off her horn. She yawned deeply and magically snuffed out the lights. She trotted for the stairs and made her way up, casting a glance to the plants. They were returning back to slumber, if that's what plants did.

Velvet entered her bedroom, where she could see Crescent lumped under the covers. She slipped next to him, giving his ear a nibble and smooching his cheek, before she flopped on her side, pulled her extra-large-non-steal-able covers up, smiled to the stars through the rock-crystal window, and drifted off to slumber, her warm husband at her side.

[SteelEagle]

Crescent was quite sure he had went to sleep that he had pillows. They were standard and for a stallion with unending cricks in his spine, valuable tools. He had never told his love about the pain though, in some manner because he didn't want to come to terms with an aging body and just as equally because he feared any effort of hers might make it worse. As Crescent woke however, his head was flat on the bedsheets, no pillow support to speak of. When Crescent went to sleep, he was sure he had his comforter. They had always switched it up, Velvet's desires and/or compulsions leading to new designs and brand new comforters. They were always comfortable though and Crescent didn't have any real complaints until he woke and found that only a tiny sliver of the comforter was on his side of the bed, limply laying on his backside and with any effort he would be bare.

He woke up well-rested regardless, colder than he would have liked and with that pain in his neck not alleviated in the slightest. He groggily pulled himself up out of bed, the aches and pains of sleeping in a bed with Velvet telling him the tale he was more than happy to not have witnessed. He stretched and yawned, joints cracking as he clip clopped slowly across the floor. He used his emergent magic to toss what remained of the comforter not already claimed by Velvet back on her. Sleeping with his lovely wife had trained him well in the art of taking comfort in whatever uncomfortable situation he awoke to, being the most excitable thief of bedsheets, pillows, comforters, and dreams- sometimes she kicked and kicked hard- in all of Canterlot, He made that joke once and she asked how would he have known about anypony else's sleeping habits. Point, Velvet.

He levitated some bath soaps and other bath accessories and made his way to their somewhat clean bathroom, starting to run the water in their large tub. It could take a little while for it to warm up but once they had a nice, hot bath, they could relax and clean and keep warm thanks to the magi-heaters underneath. He dropped some soap in and left the various Velvet-centric bathing accessories to the side. She could handle it. It was a nice morning routine, getting clean, getting ready, drinking some tea and having nice morning chat all at once. The secret of pony social life was that the better your bathtub, the happier the married couple! It did make it hard to gather up the will to go to work sometimes when the conversation was at it's most engaging and the water it's most soothing, but once again, comfort was what you made of it.

Still half asleep, Crescent wandered into the kitchen, starting to make some nice tea and...

[colour=#800000]"Aaaaaahoooooooo..."[/colour] snore snore snore, Crescent nodded off while standing up at the kitchen sink, tail flicking occasionally as he was hit by the thin rays of light that penetrated the drapes.

[Rosewind]

[colour=#000000]Sunlight filtered through gorgeous, lavender silk curtains. Velvet felt the usual release of bed pressure that signified her husband's stirring wakefulness. She was on the cusp of sleepy, dozy, and consciousness, her every ounce of being relaxed and rested. She wished she could also stay this way forever, except for the usual morning detail: she really had to use the bathroom! It was a balance of will -- to be completely comfortable, but to wake and take care of business, which would destroy the morning slumber reverie. Velvet decided to weather the storm, and continued dozing. The peace was broken with the running of bath water. It just had to be running water. She gritted her teeth, one of her aqua eyes shooting open. The bathroom was taken by her lovely husband, of course, and there was nothing she could do but lay in bed and wallow in agony. [/colour][colour=#9966CC]"He does this EVERY TIME!" [/colour][colour=#000000]she said huffily to herself, slithering out of the covers. She wasn't watching where, exactly, she was extracting herself, and did a lovely backflip to the floor, still tangled in sheets. She somewhat regretted making them extra, extra, extra large.[/colour]

Velvet stood up and trotted over to the mirror, her insides burning. Her normally prim mane was tangled, despite her straight white-and-lavender stripes, her coat was totally disheveled, and she remembered she forgot to brush her teeth last night after the incident with the plants and her crafts. Ugh. She glanced over her shoulder to see her husband trotting out of their bedroom. What, no "hello"? She paused for a moment, then rolled her eyes when the realization struck her. He wasn't awake yet. She chided herself for not realizing this right away, as she dove into the bathroom. After morning business was done, she exited, her mane bangs now heavy with dampness, straight and proper, her coat brushed, clean, and slightly damp and scented with lavender. She wondered what interesting place Crescent passed out in front of this time. Once she found him with his head stuck inside the broiler of the oven. Thankfully the oven wasn't lit. She trotted into the kitchen. Aah, the sink! At least he was being useful while being worthless. Only stallions could pull that off.

Twilight gently trotted across the kitchen tiles to her husband, giving the side of his face a warm muzzle. [colour=#9966CC]"Good morning, sweetie. Shall I take care of breakfast? We have a busy day ahead of us!"[/colour] Velvet was a terrible cook, by the way. Red sky at night, a pony couple's delight. Mare cooks at morn, husbands be warned!

[SteelEagle]

Though half asleep was still less aware than he would have been if fully awake, it afforded him some edge of consciousness that made him subtly aware of the presence that eroded the space near him. His wife was pretty darn good at sneaking around and surprising him, but it didn't matter that she wasn't even trying. He was snoring when she spoke and nuzzled him, giving him the first feeling of warmth he had felt the whole day, save the steam from the bath he was running. he had this sleep-walking fascination with warmth which he attributed to his lovely wife karate kicking him away from warm covers. So desperate was his subconscious that he had once woken with his head in the oven. What he didn;t tell Velvet was that his dreams involved him making a pie. He shook his head fervently.

[colour=#800000]"Huh? Wha- ahh, Velvet-"[/colour] he yawned, kissing her next to the eye and gently rubbing the lower part of her mane.[colour=#800000] "Good morning, my dear. I've started the tea, if you wanted any. I'll take a cup when breakfast is done. You can make breakfast if you want to-"[/colour] her breakfast foods were the equivalent of poison, but a husband swallowed the truth, pride, and those words in the name of harmony and a place on the bed,[colour=#800000] "-I'll just be in the bath. I see you already took yours,"[/colour] he chuckled, somewhat dissapointed that their 'routine' of being together in the bath was on hold for the day. Oh well; there were ten thousand mornings to come and he was sure that at some point he would have involved himself in the routine long enough to rue the day he wished it happened every morning.

[colour=#800000]"Can't wait to see what you whip up!"[/colour] He ended cheerily, trotting towards the bathroom and allowing their tails to flick together. Wife or not, a morning bath was a relaxing way to ease into the day. He swiftly pulled himself in, but not before activating the magiheaters as the water was currently lukewarm. He was not going to stand for lukewarm water, for the love of Celestia! He did not work hard and deny himself fancy tophats just so he could have lukewarm water. That was crazy talk. And while he may be married to a crazy mare, that didn't mean he was a crazy stallion. No, he was a stallion who saw through the insanity that claimed his wife to the wonderful, caring mare underneath. He loved her, even if he had to block out whatever horror story was being written in the kitchen. He tried to not think about such disqueiting things.

[Rosewind]

Meanwhile...

Velvet happily trotted into the kitchen, flicking her white-and-lavender striped tail. The air reeked heavily of basil, but at least the kitchen was spotless from her husband's efforts last night. She bit her lower lip and swallowed hard. She was a mare of many talents. She could weave minute silken threads into gorgeous crafts of unparalleled quality. She was a caring wife that raised two children that were -- even as young ponies -- making deep impacts on the future of Equestria itself. She could write stories that may be sung by bards in time to come.

She also could not cook for hay-diddly-squat.

Her lips curled into a frumpy frown as she glanced around the kitchen. She may as well be performing heart surgery, blindfolded, with a mail-in medical degree. [colour=#9966CC]"Juice," [/colour]she said resolutely, glancing to the windowsill, which housed the loathsome trap plants. They wiggled their little green tendrils out and shook their leaves. They seemed to be interested in what Velvet was doing. Were they...cheering her on? Nonsense. She trotted over to a bowl of oranges and magically plucked one out of the bowl. She examined it with one eye, rolling it around in the midair as it swirled in her light-lavender magical aura. Was there a button to push for juice? No button. Velvet nodded to the cupboard, and a glass flicked out. It landed heavily on the table. Now Velvet's true culinary talents began to shine. She tried stuffing the orange into the glass. It wouldn't fit. She focused, forcing the fruit deep into the cup. It squished, and little bits of juice and pulp oozed out of it as she rammed it deeper inside. She blinked, examining the bottom of the cup. A little juice was collecting on the bottom. Mission accomplished!

The trap plants wiggled, seeming to enjoy the display of watching the fruit of another plant meet its grisly end. Velvet set the cup with the stuck, smashed orange on the table, swinging open the pantry cabinet. [colour=#9966CC]"Oatmeal? Toast? Hay-bacon? Cereal? ...Cereal!" [/colour]Yes, cereal would do. It was safe. It was available. It was, most importantly, easy. The mare shuffled around the kitchen, looking for a bowl. No bowls to be found. [colour=#9966CC]"Really?" [/colour]She bit her lower lip, frustrated. Where did Crescent keep the bowls? After searching fruitlessly for several minutes, Velvet sighed, defeated. She could not find bowls in her own kitchen. Then again, when did she ever cook? Her aquatic gaze fell on a flower vase, holding a daffodil that had seen better days. It was missing several petals, in fact. She magically withdrew it and presented it to the trap plants. They happily invited it into their foliage, never to be seen again. The vase hovered over to the sink, where the water was dumped into the sink. She set it back on the table, flicking her bangs out of her eyes as she worked culinary magic. Next, the cereal! She nodded, and a box of Daisy Puffs™ spun out of the pantry, over to the table, and tipped into the vase. Most of the cereal made it inside. Most of it. She wondered how Crescent might eat the cereal, but she was sure he would figure out a way. Maybe he'd sup it like an upscale maretini?

Velvet went to the fridge next for milk. Her facial features straightened as she realized they had no milk. Yogurt! Oh yes, a hearty breakfast of cereal and yogurt awaited her love! She pulled a jar out of the fridge with her teeth and made her way over to the table. She shoved the glass with the orange rammed inside it aside, and tipped the container into the vase. Yogurt glooped out and clung to the neck of the vase. A few drips made it into the polychromatic cereal. Breakfast was done, but it needed something. Velvet tapped her chin with her hoof. Decor! Of course! She flicked her horn, and a swath of ribbon detached from her gorgeous curtains, and wrapped around the neck of the vase into a prim bow, almost like a gift! She cleared her throat, looking up to the ceiling. [colour=#9966CC]"Breakfast is ready! C'mon and get it, honey!" [/colour]She heard a thump from upstairs. Clearly her husband was excited about this!

[SteelEagle]

His muscles seemed to saunter lovingly with the gentle tug of warm water that sent his pelt waving like fans at a concert. His body didn't feel the ravages of age like some of his colleagues but as the days grew longer each moment in beautiful warmth was precious. He wasn't in a hurry to push it along, either. The moment he left was the very moment when he was sure he'd be hammered by some new mini-disaster. He enjoyed it while he experienced it, of course- the spice of life was the flame of chaos that was lit whenever excitement fluttered about. But that didn't mean he was necessarily in a hurry to start the day up. His mind wasn't ready. he wasn't ready. Not ready for a thing and that was unfortunate seeing as many things were coming his way today. What was on the docket, again? They had the party later that evening. Before work though, they had to leave and get a gift, because Celestia knows that they had to get these things done sooner rather than later or else apathy would strike like an ill-timed lightning strike.

[colour=#800080]"Breakfast is ready! C'mon and get it, honey!" [/colour]

It was like a guilty verdict being blasted out for the whole cosmos to hear, his wife's cheeriness after she 'made' breakfast. It was likely something inventive and, possibly, a meal that would require a significant reworking of his bathroom breaks during Celestial observance. She had many talents and her creativity was highly satisfying in more ways than twenty, but sweet Celestia on a hang-glider it didn't come in handy in the kitchen. Recipes existed for a reason; they were instructions for people like Velvet who...well, they were instructions, so he guessed it made sense that she paid them no heed when she went about her business. She was a free spirit after all. That is why he loved her(well, that and her intelligence, grace, beauty, personality, care, and a host of other things he memorized for when she asked him), that spontaneity and essence. He dried off and gamely trotted into the kitchen.

[colour=#800000]"Well, let's-"[/colour] He saw IT. He no longer valued her creativity or free spirit, since it led to the creation of some sort of frankenbreakfast which begged to be put to an end. Still, he couldn't just say that it looked like some sort of gruel they fed orphans. Saying so, even if it was the truth, was out of the question so you had to lie like you would for the benefit of a child. He smiled as he levitated the vase towards him, a spoon quickly taking hold of a good portion of the mess. He quickly shoved it down his enormous pie hole, swallowing it with all the haste he could he muster.

[colour=#800000]"Hmm, good. Good job! Almost as good as the waffles you made last month. Or the apple juice, what a treat. So, are you ready to go gift hunting?"[/colour] Crescent asked as he mentally debated whether or not to burn the vase. The flytraps seemed to be on the same wavelength, nodding yes. Fine buggers.