A Quiet Night

It was just late enough that Mirror had returned from the woods, but not quite late enough to end the day and go to bed. The clock kept ticking every so often, infuriatingly slow, to signify the marching of time, and that made for the only sound in the cottage. When it had begun to grow colder, the crackling of a fire joined it, and bathed the lower floor in a rosy glow. Light rain fell outside. Faith sighed, looking at the unicorn from her spot nestled in a faded yellow floral print armchair. It had once been set right beside the stone grey one Mirror occupied, but after their fight, she had come down from her room to find that Mirror had moved hers over to the wall and beside a lamp. Neither had given up feigning politeness, so Faith couldn’t say much when Mirror claimed it was so that she could read late at night. “Mirror… Would you please stop avoiding me like I’m a stranger? I hate seeing you like this. All I want is to help you, and you’re acting like I’ve asked you to cut off your legs.” Mirror glanced up at her, dead eyed. “You are right. I should be jumping at the opportunity to return to an imprisonment that robbed me of the chance to have any real foalhood, alongside stripping me of my memories of those who might once have loved me, and just trust that the one who put me there will let me out once she has what she wants.” “You’re just being cruel, now. I love you, Mirror, and I don’t want to sit by and watch you die for me! Stop trying to make it more than that, because that’s all there is to it, and I can’t listen to you treat me like a villain any longer. I’ve not done anything to deserve that.” “I...” It was Mirror’s turn, now, to sigh. She was being cruel, wasn’t she? Faith had lied to her, yes, but then she had done her best to make up for it. Even though she suspected Faith had been released, rather than escaping as she claimed, what proof did she have that Faith wasn’t being genuine? Every time she thought she had a reason to be upset with Faith… Faith had always responded reasonably. She’d been mild mannered and polite even when accused of betrayal. There was always some explanation that made her feel stupid for doubting Faith. Did she really have any right to be upset? “I’m so sorry, Faith. I don’t… I don’t know what has gotten into me lately.” Tears formed in her eyes, and she hid her burning face in her forelegs, confused and ashamed. Once again she felt stupid and irrational for what she had previously considered reasonable suspicions. It made her feel sick to her stomach. A hoof brushed her shoulder lightly, and Faith swept her up in a hug. For the first time in days, Mirror leaned into her, wrapping her arms around the pegasus. She wanted so badly to trust Faith, and it was easier to rewrite her own emotions and thoughts than to keep pushing back against someone she had loved for so long. “It’s okay, Mirror. We’re okay. I’m not mad at you. I’m just worried… the more time you spend out there, with your friends, the more they get to you. I don’t want your friends to tear us apart after all we’ve been through together. You know I love you, right?” “And I love you. I’m sorry,” Mirror whispered. She felt so guilty, so immature. This was the same pony who had robbed a queen and escaped into the night, just for her, and she had still managed to get so carried away in her anger. Faith would never really hurt her. Not on purpose. “Don’t be sorry, my dearest. Whenever you’re scared, or your new friends start making you worry, just come talk to me. I won’t be mad at you. I know it isn’t your fault.” Faith pulled away, and lifted Mirror’s face with a hoof so she could look her in the eyes. “You’re more precious to me than anything in the world. You know that, right?” Rain pattered against the windows. Evening was fading from the sky, revealing the deep dark of a starless, moonless sky. As if they’d never fought in the first place, Mirror’s chair was right beside Faith’s again, and they stayed close together in the flickering of the firelight. Although Mirror was taller than Faith, she leaned her head on the pegasus’ shoulder, and Faith had a wing over her like a warm blanket. Tea steamed in two cups. There were pieces of a puzzle laid out before the pair. Every so often, one of them would reach out and connect a few of them, slowly putting it together. Neither said a word for a long time, and although certain uneasiness stayed heavy in Mirror’s stomach, she pressed it down again. She was just being paranoid.