My feathers tingled in the cool misty air, accounting for the combination of temperature and moisture. But even though my feathers itched, I could still feel Twilight's warmth against the wing I'd draped over her back. We sat together on the high bluffs of the Normanedy coast. Below us were white-sand beaches which the water lapped at like a cow at a salt-lick. White foam frothed on the water with every wave, fizzing out of existence only to be replaced by a fresh line of it at the next wave's crash.
The dull roar of breaking waves echoed up the cliffside to us, amplified by the midmorning fog. The coastal wind rustled the tall grass behind us, adding a dry hiss to Nature's symphony. I smiled, hearing my lover's slow breathing next to me. After her back fell again, I rested my head on her shoulder. Within seconds, her head turned and gave a quick nibble to my left ear before turning back and simply nuzzling me. I didn't care about the princess' warning about Prance being more 'conservative' than Equestria. I cared only about the stunning mare nuzzling me on the edge of a two-hundred meter cliff.
"I still can't believe you went through all of the trouble to bring me to Prance," I squealed quietly, keeping my voice below the orchestra that Nature had provided us with.
"It helps that I've been saving my bits since I became Celestia's personal student," she whispered back, planting a small kiss on my forehead.
"But what about our Frozen North trip?" I asked, turning to look up into her eyes.
She stared right back, her violet gaze piercing my heart like it did when we first met, "The Frozen North cost me next to nothing. Only enough for a a box of tea and coffee, some food, and the tent and sleeping bags. It was maybe a hundred bits."
"But wasn't it somewhere around fifteen-hundred bits just to cross the ocean to get here?" I pointed out.
She immediately countered, "Worth every bit."
It didn't really matter to me, but I still felt a bit spoiled. I was fine with her wanting to bring me here, but actually doing it was an entirely different endeavor. I didn't want her to go so far out of her way to do this for me.
A lingering kiss on my lips forced the thoughts from my mind. I instinctively melted into it, pressing back a little bit as my eyes closed so I could focus on the feeling. Some ponies had asked me if the feeling ever got stale over the years we'd been together. To them, I'd ask them to name every possible blend of tea, and they quickly understood what I meant. Like snowflakes from the Cloudsdale weather factory, each kiss was entirely unique in texture and, like tea, flavor. However, it was entirely unlike tea in one sense. 'Think of the number of steps you've taken to-date,' I would tell anyone who asked. 'Multiply that number by itself that many times, and you still won't have a fraction of the possibilities. Kisses made of pure love evolve, and change.'
When we broke apart, I was smiling wider than Pinkie. She giggled at me and my dopey grin. I giggled with her, agreeing with her on the assumption that my face probably was quite humorous. She stood up slowly, bringing me up with her. My knees and fetlocks cracked loudly as I did so, eliciting another giggle from Twilight. Almost as though our minds were connected, we trotted off along the road.
Unlike the Frozen North, we didn't mind the chill. Or at least, she didn't. As a pegasus, I was immune to the cold. She, on the other hoof, used an insulation spell in the Frozen North. Today, she cast no such spell, and was shivering a little, even beneath my wing. But even so, she smiled brightly enough to dissipate the fog as we continued on our way towards our next destination.
--
The walk down the Prench countryside was beautiful to say the least. It wasn't so much the colors or the scenery, but the gloom that subdued the magnificence of it all. Most would find it strange that the fog was the best part of the walk because fog obscured vision and made everything less pronounced. But what I saw was the exact opposite. The fog made things more defined. It accentuated the curves of the landscape. The hills seemed to roll more, the color of the grass becoming a far less important detail though it was still green. The sparse trees cast beautiful shadows that made light scatter like lasers from one of Vinyl Scratch's shows. And the intensity of the sunlight was dulled enough to appreciate it all. There was no glare from the dirt road we ambled along, nor from the grass that swayed like ocean waves from the coastal breeze. Everything was just perfectly lit in the beautiful gloom.
It took a while, but we eventually made it to a small town not unlike Ponyville. By the time we got there, the coastal fog had burned off for the day, Celestia's sun shining brightly upon the golden wheat fields. The buildings were mostly made of stones held together with concrete that had accumulated a significant amount of moss. The rooftops were made of brick, but covered in a layer of dried grass that was probably tarred to the brick so as to not fall off during a storm. There was a faint hum of activity from the local market, as well as the rustling of the dried grasses on the roofs. But unlike the Ponyville chatter, I couldn't distinguish any particular conversations. There were no voices that were familiar enough to stand out, even as we neared the market.
Music began to make itself apparent over the voices of ponies haggling for better deals on the produce being sold. Multiple stringed instruments were playing in harmony, playing something that seemed to fit the atmosphere of a pub only slightly more than the open-air bazaar itself. The upbeat feel of the tune seemed to resonate with my happiness, even with only the guitars or whatever other plucked-stringed instruments were being played. But soon, a tambourine lent its sound to the mix, as did a box drum, making the tune much more like a pub song. And no sooner did I think that, did a violin begin playing a familiar, warm-hearted melody. I looked around for the music, at first seeing only ponies gathered around stalls and tables. But as soon as we passed a stall selling grapes and wine, I saw the small band of ponies playing the music. As I watched a pony drop a few coins into one of the open instrument cases, a flute player added her sound to the mix, playing the melody with the violinist. The pony paused for a moment, listening to the talented flutist, before going back and dropping a few more coins into the flutist's case.
"Hey Twi," I murmured, wanting to hear the music over my own voice, "listen."
We stopped walking, taking a moment to appreciate the euphoric music from the street band. After a moment, I noticed Twilight's head swaying in time with the music, almost like a metronome, with a soft smile on her face. Her eyes were closed so as to focus on the sound and not be distracted by the motion of the busy market. The happiness on her face was rivaled only by that which I gave her when we kissed. I nuzzled her gently, to which she responded by pecking my cheek, and even though she'd done that to me thousands of times throughout our time as a couple, I still blushed whenever she made such a blatant display of affection in public.
The ponies finished their song, allowing the sound of the market to once again dominate the atmosphere. Twilight started moving once more, her nose pointed upwards as though to follow a scent wafting in the air. And when I lifted my own snout to the air, I smelled it too. A sweet smell, cinnamon mixed with something baked, seemed to be floating by with the breeze. I followed Twilight as she followed the smell on the breeze, weaving through the crowd to its source.
The source of the wonderful smell was a small booth with a bright orange canopy over it and a cart of apples next to it. Just behind the booth was a flat, circular metal plate, resting atop a cast-iron furnace. The pudgy pegasus pony working at the plate skillfully poured a small amount of some sort of batter onto the plate. As quickly as he poured it, he set the container of batter down on a small crate next to him, trading it for a wide T-shaped metal rod. He carefully placed the widest side into the batter, and swirled it around two times, spreading the batter into a thin circle on the plate just an inch smaller than the plate itself. Twilight and I moved closer to get a better view, as well as perhaps inspect what the delicious smell was exactly.
Crêpes des Pommes et Cannelle - 10 B, read the sign on the front table of the booth (Apple Cinnamon Crêpes - 10 ~~B~~).
My eyes shifted back to the chef pony, who had flipped the crêpe over, revealing that the first side had indeed been perfect. He began scooping sliced bits of apples, and simultaneously sprinkling cinnamon and sugar over them. Some of the cinnamon sugar missed the treat's surface and settled onto the plate, melting and giving off the delicious smell of baked goods.
Nothing on this trip could possibly go wrong.
Author's Note
Surprise, batches! I bet y'all thought I dropped this idea in-dev. Nope!
Here you go!
<3 DarqFox
P.S. There will be small portions of dialogue and signs in French. I'll have the translations in (Parentheses) at the end of the sentences. I didn't take French for four years to not use it.
