It was three minutes until Intro To Physics was supposed to be let out, and Dr. Cirrus Whisper showed no signs of stopping his lecture anytime soon. Fairweather Haven, head propped up by one perfectly manicured hoof while the other tapped on the foldout desk, glanced at the clock hung over the whiteboard and back down at the old stallion. He was much like his namesake, she'd noticed the first day of class: white furred with wispy mane and tail a soft grey color with feathers to match. His voice was airy, almost musical, and she was sure it might be pleasant to listen to if he wasn't the more boring professor in Spitfire University. Perhaps the most boring professor on the planet. And didn't have a habit of keeping them over time.
Her hooves itched to leave, her wings fluttering listlessly at her side. Not for the first time, she thought that if she was anything other than the princess her classmates would have hissed at her to cut it out. Or maybe they would've continued to ignore that part of her; she'd seen them ignore classmates of lesser status than her fidget endlessly.
There was a tap at the door, loud enough to catch Dr. Cirrus' attention, as well as the rest of the class'. Almost as one they turned to look back, to see Dr. White Rose nudge the simple door open to poke her head in.
"Sorry to be a bother, Whisper," she said in her smooth, gentle voice. She gave a small, slightly embarrassed smile to her colleague and adjusted her attractive, thin frame glasses. "But it's passing time and I need to set up for my next class."
Haven resisted the urge to snort in a very unladylike fashion. Everyone who used the lecture rooms in the university's science building, Lightning Hall, were familiar with his habit of keeping students over. Around her, Haven heard a few polite, good-natured chuckles. Dr. Cirrus stumbled over his words, cleared his throat, and fluttered his wings.
"Goodness," he said in good cheer, like he was trying to make a joke. "Is it all ready? You know me, I get lost in the clouds." He chuckled, and a few students (science nerds, Haven thought with a roll of her eyes) joined in. "Okay, everyone. Remember the reading due for next class!"
Reading, sure, whatever. Haven joined the throng of classmates climbing out of their seats and lifting panniers onto back, shuffling wings so feathers wouldn't get pinned beneath. Without a second glance at Dr. Cirrus, she slipped into the sea of bodies leaving the lecture hall, head held high and hooves light as she trotted into the carpeted entry hall. She ignored the gazes trailing her and the whispers behind hooves as the novelty of a princess being among their number had yet to wear off for some. Dr. White Rose nodded at the students as they passed her, a few of her upperclass students, and the pile of boxes labeled FRAGILE in messy hoofwriting.
Her parents had insisted she get an education at a mainstream university. She wasn't stupid enough to believe she got into Zephyr Height's most prestigious school on her own merits. Her grades had always been excellent growing up, and she could debate like her life depended on it (and one day she knew it would), but in high society connections were everything, and she had the best life could give.
Thoughts of Intro to Physics slipped her mind, replaced by other importances of university life. Like parties and finding little cafes to do homework in, but more importantly look good while doing so. Her thoughts wandered to the cafe just off campus, a small hole in the wall thing currently experiencing a boom in business that the hipster locals detested because the crown princess had made it her favorite haunt. But the place kept the lights low, the coffee hot, and there was always the latest indie hits playing gently in the background. She could practically taste the imported coffee on her tongue and resisted the delighted moan that built in her throat.
So lost was she in such thoughts that she hardly noticed the slim stallion slipping into step beside her.
"Sorry you got stuck with Dr. Cirrus."
Haven jumped as if shocked, her wings spreading wide and smacking the stallion beside her even as he laughed. She whirled to face him, taking hold of jangled nerves and smoothing them back into order as she slipped into her royal visage. And she almost stumbled, heat rising in her cheeks, struck dumb by the stallion standing before her.
The thing was, he wasn't particularly handsome. Not the kind of stallions she and her friends would swoon over, anyway, with their long manes and broad chests. No, he was very much the scholarly type. The kind that plays the romantic underdog. He was stormy grey with patches of gentler shades throughout his pelt like cumulus clouds lost among nimbostratus; his mane was a pastel shade of blue, and his pastel blue feathers were lined with a sunset pink like the sky had settled into them. But his eyes. Those were what made her breath hitch in her throat and warmth crawl through her belly like she was some lovesick filly.
They were a sharp, deep purple. The kind that teetered on a rich blue, like night caught at the edge of the horizon at sunset. It seemed like if one looked into them just long enough, just deep enough, they could see stars and moons and galaxies.
"So sorry," he said, even as he lifted hoof with fetlocks just outside of what counted as "neatly groomed" to hide laughing muzzle. His voice was a low rumble that didn't seem to match his small frame. "I didn't mean to startle you."
She gave her head a shake, lifting her chin and oh sky don't look at the soft curve of his smile and how it's high on one side than the other. "It's all right." By habit her voice was even and regal, though she tried to soften its edges to seem more approachable. And now it wavered against her teeth, uncertain and foolish and she could kick herself. "I was distracted. You couldn't have known."
Her head cocked to the side as she began to trot off towards the hall's entryway, an invitation for him to follow. A glance told her he hesitated, and then she heard the sound of tapping hooves close the distance between them. She flicked her permed tail and smiled sidelong at him.
"So, what's this about Dr. Cirrus?"
"Oh? Oh!" He chuckled. "He's, well. He's a perfectly nice stallion, but if you ask me he shouldn't he teaching the intro classes. He's a bit, well. Pardon the rudeness but he could probably bore a rock to tears. It's not helping the department recruit students who might be interested in science."
Haven laughed, something rich and almost barking and very unladylike of her so she swallowed it down almost as soon as it started. "You could say that again," she said. Then she sighed. "I'm only taking this because I heard he's an easy A, and I need it for my GenEd."
They pushed through the glass doors that overlooked the stairs leading to the campus. She stopped for a moment at the stop of the marble landing, tucking in beside a pillar to take it all in: the students milling around the well maintained grounds, lying in the grass to do homework together or just chat. In the distance was the music hall, where a few musicians were practicing for an upcoming concert. A few others with hula hoops or standing around ropes tied between two trees, performing stunts to the delight of onlookers and friends. And a pang of longing struck through her, quickly stifled. As princess, she was a mare apart from all this. Of course she could partake, but the line between "friend" and "social climber" was hard to see.
She sent a glance to the stallion beside her, one who had yet to give his name or ask for hers (though of course he knew it already, who in Zephyr Heights wasn't aware of who she was?), and almost scowled. So caught up in his looks and kind eyes, she'd almost forgotten that most important lesson. He in turn was looking out at the campus, fluttering wings against his worn panniers, unaware of her gaze for several long seconds. When he did finally notice, he stumbled for a moment before catching himself, wings splaying just enough for balance, eyes wide in surprise.
"What is it your after?" she asked, making no attempt to hide the bite.
He blinked owlishly at her, mouth hanging open slightly to show teeth that hadn't been corrected by dentistry judging by the gap between his front teeth. "After?" he repeated, more shocked than accusatory. "I'm not after anything other than some conversation."
Ears flicked, twisted this way and that as Haven considered. After almost two decades navigating high society, where reading body language was as essential as being able to read at all, she thought herself an expert. A childhood spent with fillies who would compliment her and cloy up to her when all they looked for was her clout, leaving her cold and alone and heartbroken, helped too. That emptiness ached within her now, crawling out of those secret places in her heart and wandering along nerves to prickle at age old wounds, as she regarded him. She weighed his earnestness in her mind, that loneliness reaching its long branches into her brain.
Is it worth letting him in? the voice that maintained her walls asked. He's already cracked you. And maybe this time...
"...Sorry," she eventually managed through tight throat that was gradually loosening. "Sorry. I'm just so used to..." Her wings flared, gesturing at the world around them and the students that stole glances at the princess and she could almost hear the shutters of cameras even if the paps had gotten bored of her boring uni activities weeks ago.
Realization dawned on his face, his own ears wilting until they pressed against his skull. With a flinch he said, "Sky, I didn't even think of that. I'm so sorry, I can be kind of clueless sometimes. I swear on my family's honor that I'm just looking for conversation." He straightened up, puffed out his chest, clearing his throat before he went on, "My name is Rolling Thunder. Not a soul calls me anything other than Thunder."
He spoke with an over the top kind of regal, a mimicry of the hoity toity types she sometimes rubbed feathers with at parties were nobles were keen to grovel for her family's favor. It occurred to her that he was trying to get her to laugh, to maybe smooth the air between them from a storm to a softer breeze, and she couldn't help the delicate little laugh that managed to escape her lips. Thunder watched her keenly, inclining his head and tilting his ears foward, towards her, as if waiting for her to give her own name. She laughed again, harder this time, rich and genuine from the depths of her soul.
"You already know my name." She dared to playfully bat at his chest with her hoof, and was rewarded with a broad grin.
"Ah, but it'd be rude of me to presume!"
With a flick of her tail she began her descent down the stairs, onto the stone path that wound its way through the grounds. "Well, if you must know." She stuck her nose in the air. "Princess Fairweather Haven, crown princess to the throne." She looked over her shoulder at him, giving a wink. "But you can call me Haven."
"Well, Haven," Thunder said, "I hope this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship."
And there's a part of her - a part that lives within those hollow places she tries to fill with the shallow friendships of the limelight that are never enough - that hoped this risk was worth it.
Author's Note
gestures
tada!