Persephone
by Present Perfect

Golden Accolade Harshwhinny stopped a few paces before the front door, her flower-print suitcase falling from her mouth to land against the nearest stubby pillar with a dull thud. She let out a long breath, head drooping and relief flitting across her sagging shoulders as she set eyes on her house for the first time in months.

It was modest, given their means, a two-story Unicornian tucked into a shady section near the end of Paradise Valley Lane in one of Manehattan's more affluent neighborhoods. It was whitewashed and pleasant, with a weed-free lawn and tidy landscaping. This far from the bustle of fashion shows, theaters, neon lights and carriage traffic, the silence hummed against her ears. It was welcome. She pounded on the door three times.

After the expected moment, the bolt unlatched and the door opened. There she stood, in a light mauve bathrobe that complemented both her grey coat and pink mane. The mane that, miraculous and confounding, had yet to show any grey despite the six years between them. She smiled and inclined her head.

"Goldie!"

"Prim."

After a further moment, during which Golden was unable to muster a smile, Prim Hemline Harshwhinny stepped out of the house and pressed against her, wrapping a foreleg around her neck. Golden leaned back, and they just stayed like that, neither speaking. At last, with a murmur of fatigue, Golden reached up and kissed her gently. Prim smiled and said,

"You have keys, dear."

Golden returned her head to Prim's shoulder. She breathed deeply, the scent of honeysuckle shampoo telling her that she was, at long last, home.

"And you can come in," Prim continued.

"An object at rest desires to remain so," she said into the white ruff of the bathrobe. "May I never see another dragon again so long as I live." Golden pulled away and fixed Prim with a tired smile.

"That bad?" Prim asked, matching the smile. "Would you like to tell me about it over dinner?"

"I would love to. If there has been one thing sorely missing from my life these past months, it is normalcy." Golden took a deep breath. "You haven't started evening calisthenics, have you?"

Prim blinked. "I was just about to, as a matter of fact. Are you sure you wouldn't rather eat first?"

Golden lowered her head. Her eyes closed. Reaching up, she blindly pressed her hoof to Prim's mouth.

"Dinner is worth waiting for," she whispered.

"Very well then, darling." Prim took her suitcase and led her inside. "Welcome home."

She exercised in the shirt that had comprised a tenth of her laundry for the past nine months; yoga pants were as unnecessary as watching the video. Every movement to the inch, every breath to the second, they felt and lived in synchrony. The tiredness leached from her body, replaced by a calm, warm sea. She drifted on that sea beneath a gentle sun, rocked by the serene tide.

It wasn't even the routine of doing a particular thing at a particular time that calmed her. Simply being near Prim was enough. Moments such as this had been her grounding against the tides of the outside for longer than she wished to consider. When the world became insufferable, she could count on a modest house, on evening calisthenics and mild food, to return her to her center and impart in her the strength to face another day.

When the routine, natural as walking, finished, she opened her eyes. She felt cleansed on a level that both encompassed and surpassed both mental and physical. She looked to Prim, and that seeping warmth birthed her first genuine smile in weeks.

Dinner was radishes in white wine. Not just the perfect accompaniment to the evening's activities, they were also one of Golden's favorite detoxes. She suspected Prim of buttering her up, though the reason why escaped her. Prim had eaten in a somewhat less measured manner, and so had monopolized the dinner conversation for the past few minutes.

"You know, dear," Prim said, "I believe you and I have had run-ins with some of the same ponies this year."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "You know, that new Princess and her retinue."

Golden choked on her radish.

"Ah, yes." Prim gazed off toward the kitchen. "That Rarity could take Equestria by storm if she weren't so anxious all the time. Are you all right, dear?"

Coughing, Golden nodded, reasserting self-control. If appearances could not be maintained in private, they were not worth maintaining; this was her truth.

"Honestly, I have no idea how six ponies find so much time to run around Equestria spreading chaos." She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. "If you want my opinion--"

"I do."

"That new Princess Sparkle is nothing but a common troublemaker." Golden snorted. "If it's not her, it's one of her friends or her... pet. Do you know I had to work with that awful Rainbow Dash once?"

Prim gasped and clucked her tongue.

"Not only was she a complete boor, she caused me to make a fool of myself. Me!"

Another tongue cluck. "How dreadful, darling." She stood, moved around the table, and put her hoof on Golden's withers. "I don't know how you put up with it for so long."

"Neither do I--" Golden yawned, bringing her fetlock to her mouth. "Oh my goodness."

"That's enough for now, then." Prim smiled, rubbing a small circle in Golden's withers. "I think an early bedtime would do both of us some good."

Taking a deep breath, Golden nodded slowly. "You're right, of course." She leaned back in her chair.

Prim smiled at her, radiating peace in the ineffable way only she knew. Safety, love, and, above all, stability: these were what Golden needed most. This house was the only place she could find all three in abundance.

"I shall just have to wait until tomorrow to enjoy your waking company, then," said Prim.

"And every day after, dearie."

As Golden brushed her teeth, Prim unpacked her suitcase for her. She could hear the whooshing of the dirty clothes being sorted neatly into their bedroom hamper. The wide bathroom mirror illuminated just how many bags rested beneath her eyes.

Little things drew close to her, blanket-like. The matching shower curtains and rug whose floral print resembled that of her luggage. The pastel seashell-shaped soaps collecting dust on their seashell-shaped soap dish. That horrible and mysterious stain in the corner behind the toilet that looked vaguely like a unicorn in silhouette.

Earth ponies, it is said, possess innate magics, unlike the more overt talents of the unicorns or even the pegasi. Those not predisposed to growing crops or tending fields of stones have yet within them a sixth sense that, among other things, keeps them ever aware of just where home is.

At that moment, the magic of "home" radiated from every one of those little things and more. She knew down to her bones, this was the place she belonged. Her breath caught in her throat. It was but a moment's gaffe, and just as quickly, she was composed and spitting water into the sink. But she understood now why so many months on the road had taken such a toll on her psyche. Her mind had been stretched like a rubber band, and now it was easing back to full laxity, shrieking and creaking and unused to anything but tension.

She shrugged the suitcoat she'd been wearing all day into the dry cleaning pile, and tossed her lavender shirt into the hamper. As she trotted around the bed, her gaze roved over the knickknacks and accoutrements adorning the wide dresser. Jewelry, statuettes, awards, photographs: every one of them said "home" in a tiny, yet clear voice. She smiled and moved into the closet. Eagerness for sleep didn't preclude etiquette, and the least she could do was thank her wife.

When she emerged, Prim was under the covers, watching her with a curiosity that turned to wide-eyed surprise.

"Shouldn't I be the one in the sexy nightie, dear?"

Golden smirked. "I caught you trying to score points with me earlier this evening."

Pouting, Prim said, "I'm just trying to make you feel at home."

"And you have." Golden climbed onto the mattress beside her, the last bits of energy flooding from her muscles. "Oh, you have. Forgive me if I wish to feel a little freer than I have lately."

She kissed Prim gently, and they shared a tired smile.

"It's because of you," Golden said softly.

"What is?"

"All that I do." She closed her eyes. "Making it through the days. Those other ponies out there in the world, they're idiotic, annoying, sycophantic or just plain rude, and none of them understand me the way you do."

"I think that might be why we married." She felt Prim's touch against her mane. "I've always felt the same about you."

Golden grunted. "You could be right."

"There's an old saying." Prim paused. "'Tartarus is other ponies.'"

There was enough spirit left in Golden for a hearty chuckle. She turned over and let Prim pull her in close beneath the sheets.

"At least I have a reason to brave Tartarus."

There was a soft kiss on the back of her neck.

"Good night, Prim dear."

"Good night, Goldie. And welcome home."

Author's Notes:

I originally wrote this in June of 2014 for a planned collaboration called The Album 2, which was meant to be comprised of short, very slice-of-life fics. The collab was cancelled just this December, however, so I'm finally able to release it. I'm happy to have the opportunity to do so, because I think it's one of the better things I've ever written. Slice of life to the core, and mostly about introducing a rather odd ship, but this does what I wanted it to. :)

I mean, hardly anyone ever writes romance about old ponies. The moment I saw Prim Hemline, I knew I needed to ship her with Harshwhinny, and here we are. I'm not sure where I came up with the name "Golden Accolade", but I guess it fits her cutie mark and general talents, and she just sort of needed to be called something more than simply "Harshwhinny".

Hope you enjoyed the story. Thanks to Pascoite for a lot of feedback.