Chapters After many dates, corny songs, love notes, and anonymous gifts, young Artillery finally got what he wanted. Veranda fell for him.
They fell truly, madly, deeply in love with each other.
Veranda was now a well known dressmaker in the city, and Artillery was a part of Cloudsdale’s air force.
On one frosty winter Cloudsdale morning, Artillery asked Veranda if she wanted to go hang out with her. Veranda wanted to, of course. They both were now 20 years old.
Artillery arrived at Veranda’s cloud house. She opened the door and greeted him.
“Wow...” He mumbled his eyes wide. Veranda looked like an angel. Her cheeks were pink from the cold.
Her mane was slightly windblown, but neat. She was wearing a scarf that brought out her bright blue eyes. Her white coat glistened.
She smiled dazzlingly at him. Artillery felt as if he wasn’t good enough for Veranda, but she felt the opposite. He was Veranda’s shoulder to cry on, her best friend and soul mate.
Artillery treated her as well and politely as he could, like a delicate flower. He could be too protective sometimes, but he was overall a good stallion.
They began to walk, the white snow crunching beneath their hooves. “Veranda, follow me, I’ve got a place to show you” Artillery said, pumping his wings and drifting into the air.
Veranda nodded and followed. After a small amount of easy flying, they reached a snowy hill in Ponyville. Artillery chivalrously offered Veranda the most comfortable spot to sit on. She sat down.
“This place is beautiful...” Veranda said in wonder. Artillery put his hoof in hers, blushing.
“Well, um... I kind of... um...” He stammered. “Kind of what?” Veranda said, friendly.
“I kind of um... Wanted to... If it was okay with you... Wanted to ask you something.” He said, very nervous.
That was the funny thing about him. He could defend Equestria and fight in wars no problem, But dealing with mares brought fear into his loving heart. Veranda nodded.
“W-will you... Marry Me?”
He asked, looking at her, terrified that she would say no. Veranda flew at him. Artillery cringed in fear.
He was relieved to find that Veranda had only flown at him to give him a huge hug. Her warm arms wrapped around his torso, her face pressed up against his chest.
“Y-Yes!” She said gleefully. He let out a sigh of happiness. She really loved him!
He wrapped his arms around her and they sat in silence, the white mare clinging to him tightly.
Epilogue
“Is Veranda doing alright?” Artillery whispered urgently to the doctor outside of Veranda’s hospital room. “Yes, sir, she is doing perfectly well, just a bit tired!” The doctor said, slightly agitated.
It was about the 50th time Artillery had asked about Veranda’s condition in the last twenty minutes.
“And the baby?” He added. The Doctor rolled his eyes. “A perfectly healthy little filly!” the Doctor said.
Artillery had to leave the hospital room due to some complications with the birth, and Veranda had to go into emergency surgery.
The doctor recommended that Artillery go home, get some sleep, and that they would call to tell how things turned out, but the doctor and nurses couldn’t get Artillery out of that waiting room if they tried.
He had sat and waited with no sleep for two straight days, hardly eating. The doctor said annoyed “And if you wish, you can see them both now.” He pointed down the hall.
“Room 515” he said. Artillery flew off toward the room with the speed of a bullet. “NO FLYING IN THE E.R.!” The doctor shouted. Artillery crashed into the floor, and got up running in a millisecond.
He stopped, took a deep breath, and opened the door to ward 515 quietly.
Veranda smiled. She was lying on a hospital bed, her head supported by several pillows. She was hooked up to a machine that followed the rhythmic beat of her heart.
Tons of colorful bouquets of flowers (All from Artillery) were in vases all over the room. Veranda’s pink mane was ruffled and messy, and she had dark circles under her eyes.
“Hi honey...” She said weakly, smile on her face. Artillery smiled happily. He looked just as rough as Veranda. Artillery reached out and softly kissed Veranda.
“I was so worried about you...” He trailed off. “Shush.... It’s okay, I’m okay...” She said weakly.
“Have you seen the filly yet? She’s so beautiful...” She whispered, pointing to a little clear plastic padded container, used for keeping newborn baby ponies warm.
A small lump was moving slowly up and down inside it. Artillery stepped over, quiet as a cat to it. He looked at the tiny filly inside it and gasped.
She was just as beautiful as Veranda had said. She had her mother’s pristine white coat, and little fluffy puffs of mane and tail that were coal black. The filly turned over, and cooed like a dove, reaching out to her Father. She had bright orange eyes.
“I named her Vista.” Veranda said weakly. Artillery gently picked up Vista, and before he could stop himself, he felt a single tear roll down his cheek. The filly cooed softly again.
“Shh....” he whispered softly, setting the filly down delicately. Artillery was quite confident that the baby filly was one of the beautiful things he had ever seen.
He walked back to his wife. Artillery softly entwined his hoof with hers. Veranda smiled.
She felt tired, sick, and weak, but happier than she had ever been in her whole wonderful life.
“Woo hoo!” Veranda shouted as she soared through the sky. Her soft pink mane and tail flew behind her as she pumped her white wings.
She was flying alone, because she had decided to take a break from her sewing. She was a slender, petite teenaged mare of about 18 with a beautiful smile. A needle and thread cutie mark emblazoned her flank.
She wasn’t a very fast flyer, but she was a graceful one. She had large, beautiful wings that looked like those of an angel. She performed slow loops and dives.
The only sounds she heard were of the wind and the soft whoosh of her wings in the warm evening air. She rested on a cloud for a moment, taking in the scenery.
Her hooves played with the fluffy puff of cloud. She started off again, landing back in the floating city of Cloudsdale. Her hooves landed silently on the cloud floor. That’s what the whole city was made of, clouds.
Veranda walked through the market, saying hello to the other Pegasus ponies that she knew.
As she flew back up to show a friend a new trick she had learned, she crashed into a handsome stallion. “Hey, watch where you’re—Oh.” The stallion said, gazing into Veranda’s bright blue eyes.
“Oh. So sorry, I-I-I didn’t see you there. He stammered, nervously. (The stallion was always acted this way around mares) “Whatever, it’s fine.” Veranda said, slightly annoyed. She flattened her mane and sped off.
“Whoa! Wait!” The stallion said. Veranda turned and looked at him. He was blushing crimson. The stallion had a red mane, a light grey coat, and a speeding bullet for a cutie mark.
The awkward colt stuttered “M-my name’s Artillery. D-do you want to maybe hang out sometime? Oh! Only if you wanted to....” He trailed off.
Veranda laughed happily. “In your dreams!” She said gleefully, speeding off. Artillery accepted her challenge. He sped after her.
“Are you going to follow me home?” Veranda said, laughing. Artillery replied “If that’ll get you to go out with me, so be it!”