She had always planned on going back north, ever since she had run into Johnny in the snowbanks of the Steppe. Even if they hadn't...even if they never...well, even if there had only been friendship on the table she would have gone there willingly. Aisling had never been one to ignore a chance to make a lasting friendship and as there was nowhere else in Helovia that had laid a claim on her affections so why wouldn't she seek out the company of that funny, charming man with candyfloss for a mane? She would come to see his home, she'd told him as much before they parted, but she had been overdue to take her song to the Sun God and she had to take a quick trip south and then she would come for a visit. This much she had told him, for that is all she had known then.

All the way south she had been giddy; the prospect of being blessed with magic if the God of the Sun was pleased would have been enough to make he so; but after her time on the slopes with Johnny she had been positively radiant. It was strange to think on how much she had learned, had changed in the span of a few snowy hours but she had found bliss there (even if only the temporary kind) a joy that had hitherto been undiscovered by the little faerie mare. Someone who was kind, someone who was funny, someone who like her stories, who wanted her to stay, someone like Johnny. The fact that there were those kinds of people to be found here, that she needn't consign herself to an eternal solitude had been like the breaking of a new day.

She would have been content with that one day, or so she thought, if she went to the Basin and found only friendship there that would be enough; a good friend. In the wisdom she had learned, Aisling was careful not to let her daydreams race too far in front of her own feet. But oh, the way he had looked at her, they way he had reached out, what girl could stop that little spark of hope--that little teasing jump in the hear that hinted at the potential for love. It would be nice to love a man like Johnny. She convinced herself that that was as far as she had gone, and maybe it was true.

Aisling had already been on her way north again when she discovered exactly what she was taking there with her. Two gifts from the sun god, to be sure, a magic that felt as new an bubbly within her as champagne and a beautiful flute. The magic she had gone for, but the instrument had been a wondrous surprise, as beautiful to look at as it was to hear. To carry it she had let down her mane, using the ribbons that had secured the long braid to sling the flute across her shoulders. The white tresses were long and draping, but by the time she reached the entrance of the basin, even they could not hide the tell-tale swell of her sides that announced what else she had brought with her.

A child had never been so much as a thought in her mind that day, a shadow of a possibility that she had never even considered until she's had to stop and think to understand why a full nights sleep did not rest her, or why her feet protested in carrying more that they were used to. That morning she had considered turning around-then and about ten times a day since. Even the music she played herself could not drown out the thoughts that suggested she should never show her face north of the Thistle Meadow again. How would Johnny react? What would he think or say or do? Would he be as surprised as she? As nervous? Would he care? And what if all his charm in the Steppe had been an act and he turned cold and callous when she arrived upon his doorstep with some unlooked for and unwanted responsibility. She knew stories of men like that, and she couldn't see how Johnny could be, but then she also knew stories of women who used children, or at least pretended to; in order to trap stallions into their service and bidding. What if he thought that of her? If she turned up with her power of illusion and the appearance of a swollen belly and asked for sanctuary, would he call her witch and send her away?

But not going? Keeping a secret like this would be a level of dishonesty Aisling had never dared to aspire to. It would go against everything she had ever been taught; every time her step faltered and her fears rose like bile in her throat, when she though she would turn away she could see her Ma's face and hear her disappointment "Now lass, have I not always told you: honesty may lead you down a path to heartbreak, but a dishonest heart is already broken beyond any mending." So here she had come, and paused at the foot of the crumbling sentinel. She was hopeful, very much nervous, and in her heart even a little defiant. This child-her child!- was already loved, already wanted. Perhaps it had taken reaching here for her to realize it, but Aisling, as always, had and open heart and now a gift to share if there were open arms to take it.

"."

ooc :: @Johnny and anyone else is welcome (and encouraged) to join in for much awkwardness and hilarity.