Now, as you all may know by now, Golden Quill is an alicorn. Not a high and mighty one, such as the four princesses, but not an average pony either. Sure, his combination of both wings and horn drew attention from onlookers, and an occasional bow of the head here and there, but that was not what he wanted. He wanted to be treated as an average stallion, with average looks and an average life. These were his only goals in life, and as such, love was part of this.
Yes. That’s right. Golden was a stallion looking for love. Not so different from everypony else, eh? Well, that is only partially true. Mares, (and some stallions, on that matter) were usually looking for his hoof in theirs. It would have been an honour for them to be with such a pony, but it was not what he wanted. Of course, he could have been with any single one of them, but he wanted none of them.
Now, this was not because of his race, or the fact that they were all normal breeds, but it was rather because of the reason they wanted him. They all believed that they might gain fame or fortune through the young lad, but this was also another falsehood within his life. He was not wealthy, as he owned only a small, nearly derelict house in the countryside outside of Baltimare, and he was only famous in said city.
He longed only for one mare. The only mare in all of Baltimare who he had not yet caught the eye of. The mare’s name was Graphite Flourish, a gorgeous white mare, with an astonishingly long blonde man that had a bright pink streak running from the roots to the tip. She was known for her artistic skills throughout the town, and often went travelling to other towns to view art exhibits from all around Equestria.
She was perfect for the young author. A writer and an artist, together under one roof. In his mind, it was the perfect pair, with the perfect occupations. Many times he had tried to approach her, but would always be swept away by a wave of followers, drawing him farther from his goal. During every trip into town, he would walk past her moderately sized estate and look through the gate, hoping for yet another glimpse at the mare.
~~~
On the flip side, unbeknownst to him, Graphite would often stare down the long, paved streets into the lush countryside beyond, waiting every day to see the alicorn trot down the avenues and into the various stores, buying food and much needed supplies for his daily life. She too longed for the other, stealing glances at him as he walked past her gate. She would purposely sit upon her patio and wait until noon, the time he would always pass by.
She often fantasized about meeting him, about strolling down the softly lit streets with his wing draped over her slender frame. In her mind, it was bliss. A perfect world which she had created. At times she would paint scenes of she and her imaginary companion, the long delicate brushstrokes giving breath to the scenes of love and, at times, intimacy. These paintings were to be hidden from the public in her studio. A room which no soul was to enter but her own.
Months soon went by, the chill of winter, the rain of spring, and soon the heat of the summer. Every season would greet her with new ideas for her works. The newest public sales often depicted a black maned stallion, sometimes with wings, and sometimes with a horn. But neither in the same painting.
Yet another few months passed, and every day she would sit on her patio and wait for the stallion. He brought a smile to her face with every single look, and would make her giggle as he would shyly trot away from the barrier between them. On one occasion though, she took it upon herself to wait patiently at the gate. But he never came to the gate. He didn’t even bother to go into town that day…
~~~
Golden was beginning to lose hope in the mare. Losing hope in the chance that he might meet her face-to-face. It no longer seemed like a possibility to him. Just another dream. The stallion was beginning to lose the fight with his conscious, which often told him to just give up. To stop pursuing somepony who would never love him. It was a prospect he often pondered as he wrote. He threw his emotions down on the parchment, but would always dispose of them.
It was nearing the time for him to stop. To let go of his hold on her. But that very day, he heard a knock on his door. It was unexpected, and uncalled for. He had been busy working, listening to the soft, heart-wrenching music of Octavia Von Cello, the head of the lead orchestra in Canterlot. He would listen to her music to calm his nerves, but the insistent knocking threw him off course. With a slam of his journal, he stood from his stool and began to approach the door.
A soft, sweet voice like fresh honey came floating through the threshold, calling out a greeting. He swung the door open quickly, a dark grimace on his face. He stared almost blankly at the white mare before him. It was her! Graphite! If it were not for his etiquette, he would have leaped ten feet in the air, cheering out her name. Instead of that, though, he smiled and let her in.
The mare asked him if he had any tea on hand, and the stallion left to his kitchen to boil a kettle of water. In his absence, she lifted one of many bound stacks of parchment and opened it, scanning the first few pages.
Minutes later, Golden stepped from his kitchen, carrying two cups of Earl Grey and a tray of biscuits in his blue aura. He nearly dropped everything when he saw the mare on the couch in tears. She had obviously been reading one of his works in progress, a sad romance story about two young ponies. One with a blonde mane, and one with black…
~~~
Graphite stared down the aisle, keeping her eyes on the thick mahogany doors parallel to the altar. They soon opened, and in stepped a stallion with a long black mane in a handsome white suit. After all had been said, she looked into the eyes of her lover and gave a gentle smile, before answering the preacher, two words coming from her lips.
“I do.”
