When Sure Stroke had been younger, she had always been the sort of filly who grew anxious before Hearth’s Warming. She would fly around her parents’ old cloud house, prance in place, and even comb over every bit of whispy fluff in search of their little hiding spot to sneak a peek to see if she’d gotten something nice. Alto would even aid in her search.
Not until she saw how her changeling friends acted once they realized she’d made a special trip to Manehattan two days before Sharers’ Day did she truly understand her unparalleled patience. Especially when Aspire and Esalen started in.
By Celestia’s immaculate feathers, did they ever live up to the villagers’ monicker for them. She cast a quick glance around, just to be certain they weren’t sneaking up to check her saddlebags as their families walked together toward the village center. A smile threatened to spread across her face as she noticed Faith trying to distract her parents while Warm Welcome dropped behind and sidled up to Drizzly, cocking his head at an angle to try to see if he could take note of the shape of one of the packages.
One of her father’s gray-blue wings shot out quicker than Warm could dodge and clipped him right across the nose for what must have been the umpteenth time in the past couple days, if her father’s bemused side glance was any hint. Or Warm Welcome’s pouting while Faith muttered a curse.
She unfurled her wings just slightly, glancing side to side in time to catch the twins closing in on her again. They flinched away, pasting smiles that were far too toothy and innocent to be true. At first, their attempts had been subtle, much like how their father caught hers and stopped him for a lengthy chat a couple days prior. In fact, it began that very same day.
The twins came calling shortly after the pegasus family finished wrapping their gifts. Sure Stroke could do little but suppress a nervous rustling of her wings when she took note of their wicked smirks and the knowing gleam in their eyes as they began to circle her like sharks, asking how her little trip had been with an insincere nonchalance dripping from the very tongues they flicked and waggled.
Where had she gone? Did she visit anyplace special? What part of Manehattan did they spend the day in? Any shops she enjoyed particularly? Had she been back to that little pizza place with Toola? Anything that might hint which stores she might have visited, like they had a map they could consult.
Innocent enough on the surface, yes. But then Sure Stroke remembered just how much her changeling friend and boyfriend so loved to play their word games.
So much like their cousins from the Enchanter hive, a credit to their heritage through their grandfather, Beguile, no doubt.
She managed to deftly sidestep any direct answers, though. A small victory in her mind. Then they decided to get creative.
After all, they had a full day before Sharers’ Day and the ability to taste every emotion running through her. Why would they do anything but poke and prod and press every advantage. They were changelings and it was their way.
An early morning visit? Naturally, they were up almost at the crack of dawn, waiting for her. They were all too happy to sidle up and try to pull hints out of the sleep-addled filly, hoping she would slip before her brain fully awoke. Oh, was she going to draw today? Why ever would they pass up a chance to sit with their friend-slash-girlfriend, Doodle while she doodled her doodly heart away? Of course they’d be happy to sit with her in Sweet Treat’s shop and watch her practice drawing by sketching Maple and the Mint twins! They would have a wonderful time chatting while she worked.
When that didn’t work after several hours and multiple drawing locations, Aspire dropped all pretense and set about playing dirty—he caught her in a tight hug and pulled her in close, his gorgeous blue eyes shining with affection as he drew her in and kissed her deeply. She couldn’t help but melt, her temporary walls falling as she wrapped her hooves around his neck and trailed her primaries up his sides.
Right into his trap. Again and again, he would kiss her, then trail fluffy kisses and licks up her jawline so he could nuzzle her neck and ears, whispering sweet nothings all the while and promising a full day of nothing but such wonderful attention if she’d tell him. Not Esalen’s gift, mind, she was on her own. Just his.
He had to know, he claimed. He wanted to be sure he’d shown her all the love and gratitude she deserved, and he couldn’t do that if she somehow one-upped him.
Through it all, Sure Stroke stayed strong—even though it pained her to slip from his grasp and clip his ears with a wing until he promised to quit for the day if she showed mercy. And she would remain so no matter how her feathers fluffed at the mere thought of all those kisses, or the promise of a full day spent like that.
It wasn’t her fault. He cheated. Being that handsome, kissing so well, and whispering such honeyed words in her ear should be against the rules when trying to pry secrets from innocent fillies such as herself. Clearly, he hadn’t learned his lesson after a month of being tucked firmly under her wing. Perhaps he would need a reminder.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught him drifting closer to her right side, his eyes wide and focused on her saddlebag. A flash of pink forked tongue lashed along his lips, no doubt tasting for suspicion. His face was split in an eager, mischievous grin.
Like father, like son, she mused as she honored the time-old tradition of clipping her boyfriend over the ears with a wing. “No peeking!” she scolded for the hundredth time.
True to form, Aspire let out a startled chitter and recoiled from her assault. “Oh, come on, Doodle!” he cried, fixing her with his most soulful, pleading gaze. A keening whine built up in his chest and mixed into his tone. “It’s not like you’re not about to give it to me anyway! I can’t even do anything to add to it now!”
That, she didn’t believe for a second. Aspire’s eyes told a completely different story—she could practically see the gears turning in his head.
Her handsome, affectionate boyfriend was scheming. In fact, he likely already had several in mind, one of which was currently in motion.
He’s the distraction. Her left wing unfurled faster than a bolt of lightning and connected with Esalen’s chitinous chin. The tips of her feathers teased the edge of her sharp fangs. “That goes for you too!”
“Crack my eggshell!” Esalen staggered a couple steps sideways, bringing a hoof up to cup her aching jaw. Her eyes narrowed, though not at Sure Stroke. “I was so close! Couldn’t you keep her occupied a second longer, you soft-shelled ninny!”
Sure Stroke rolled her eyes. And there it is. “Would you two just behave for once? By Celestia’s wings, we’re almost there already!”
As she spoke, they entered the village proper, though not with any shortage of grumbling vows of retribution and sidelong smirks and glowing eyes from the terrible twins.
Those wings smacks would cost her dearly, no doubt. Perhaps not today, but down the line.
Those long tables and benches normally put out by the lakeside for parties and hive visits were set up between the ice cream parlor and Sweet Treat’s shop, the wooden stage from the Enchanters’ visit had been set up in front of Queen Euphoria’s house. The Queen herself stood but a few steps away from her loving husband and most infamous prankster pony, Cool Breeze, whose face was split into a broad grin and feathers fluffed with no sign of attempted restraint. The rest of her entourage, however was suspiciously absent. Or so it appeared.
Sure Stroke found them standing at the forefront of a crowd of villagers—each and every one of them. But, for the first time since her move from Cloudsdale, she saw them segregated.
Every changeling, from the youngest hatchling to the adults somewhere around Regale’s age, stood before their Queen, while every pony stood before Cool Breeze. All of them faced what was, for all intents and purposes, their royal family.
Aspire crossed in front of her, playfully brushing their shoulders together. “We’ll have to continue this later, Doodle,” he teased. “After the ceremony.
Arching a brow, Sure Stroke fixed he and Esalen with a flat look. “More stuff you two have hidden from me?”
The twins waggled their ears. “We prefer to think of it more as setting you up for a nice surprise,” Esalen chimed, gently hip bumping her so not to disturb her bulging saddlebags, before turning to follow Aspire and their parents toward the crowd of changelings. “So relax and enjoy your first Sharers’ Day, silly pony. I’m sure you’ll find my gift to die for!”
The pegasus rolled her eyes again as they chittered merrily and moved to join their kin. They were being cheeky little pests, as their kind were so wont to do, but they knew how to play her like a harp better than anyone else. Even her own family, sometimes.
Ignoring the strange sense of foreboding at her friend’s choice of words, she flicked her tail and trotted over to join the gathering of ponies with her parents. If they were going to participate in Sharers’ Day properly, they might as well humor the changelings’ odd sense of humor. Once they had arrived and joined the group, she met with Toola Roola, who sported her usual smile and a hint of pride in her eyes.
“They couldn’t get it out of me,” she whispered, her voice full of glee. “Mom and dad tried every trick to make me slip and drop a hint, and Nimmy tried so hard to catch me and tickle me silly, but I got to the accorded safe spots before she could lay a hoof on me.”
Snorting, Sure Stroke made to ask what exactly their so-called safe spots were, but a hush fell over the crowd like a weight. She looked up and found Queen Euphoria readying to speak, and perked up her ears to listen. It was time to learn more about her changelings’ culture.
“Fellow villagers,” she greeted warmly, “Caretakers and ponies alike, it is once again time for us to honor the tradition passed down to us by our fallen saviors, the Sainted Ones, by way of my ancestor, Serenitatem, and Willow Wisp, founder of the former Neighagara Settlement on the northern falls, and leader of the first ponies to join our village.” Queen Euphoria paused a moment to allow a brief, respectful rumble of stomping hooves and buzzing wings. “In the years after the fall of the Sainted Ones and the fracturing of the Ancient Hive, the Caretakers searched the land for suitable settling grounds. Queen Serenitatem chose this place due to its central location in the growing eastern province and the opportunity to keep our hive safely hidden, yet accessible to those who came in search of aid. Through disguise, she and the Caretakers spread word amongst the neighboring settlements that our village would welcome those in need and treat them as guests, offering whatever aid was asked in exchange for a small price: love.
“Of course, it did not come easily. Willow Wisp, in particular, did not trust her, or any changeling, for he had grown up hearing stories of how the Ancient Hive acted before Queen Morrigan ceded the Black Crown. He refused all aid and barred our changelings from entering his village until an outbreak of terrible, crippling fever forced his hoof. Ravaged by illness, he dragged himself down the winding forest paths until the Village Guard found him and brought him before the Queen, where he offered anything in exchange for aid, only asking that any price be paid not by the villagers, but himself.”
Sure Stroke’s ears twitched. It was familiar to her. Self-sacrifice in the face of certain doom, a leader leaving those under their protection in search of aid while commanding all others rest. The dedication and will to accept the burden and consequences on their own shoulders, and none other.
Just like Queen Morrigan.
Queen Euphoria turned to yield the floor to her husband, who nodded in thanks before turning to address the crowd. “Queen Serenitatem refused payment, for he reminded her of her own ancestor, Morrigan. She and her changelings went to the Neighagara Settlement and nursed the ponies back to health. From then on, an alliance between the small villages began until the ponies slowly moved closer, then eventually joined, offering love freely. For years, they existed together as one village, Respite, and worked in harmony with one another.” He beamed and raised his voice. “On the anniversary of the settlements’ union, Queen Serenitatem and her changelings concocted this very day to offer their thanks to the ponies who shared their love. To them, it was a show of gratitude, a day which was meant to be all about those who shared willingly.” His grin grew decidedly cheeky, he glanced over at his wife and added, “But, of course, Willow couldn’t let that stand, so the ponies returned the favor a week or so later, depending on which version of the story you get.”
A wave of laughter and merry chittering swept through the crowd. From the changeling group, Sure Stroke heard Caress call out, “And yet you all still wonder why we try to one up you, you troublesome stallion!”
Even Cool Breeze snickered at that. “You may try, dear,” he replied, his eyes shining with mischief, “but Phory’s never managed it, and neither will you.”
For a split second, there was a flash of green in Queen Euphoria’s aquamarine eyes, gone before Sure Stroke could even blink. While she couldn’t see Caress, she would wager good bits hers had as well. Cool Breeze had just challenged his wife and bedmate. Again.
Whether their lover noticed or not, he paid it no mind. “Speaking of which, that reminds me of a funny story,” Cool Breeze drawled, his tone too on a rather foreboding edge. An air of anticipation hung thick over the crowd, Sure Stroke could see them all, changeling and pony alike share grins and lean forward as he cleared his throat and continued, “I think it’s about time I engaged in my personal Sharers’ Day tradition and shared the story of how my wife helped me through my fears and we fell in lo—mmph! Phiffy!”
The only thing more notable than the olive glow wreathing his snout and his wife’s horn, was the deep flush that turned her cheeks blacker than a moonless night. Queen Euphoria forced a thin smile. “We’ll be skipping that little tale this year,” she said, loud and clear for everyone. “Now, if you please, there is one last thing we must do. Changelings, ponies, turn and face one another.”
Both groups did as commanded. Changelings and ponies stared each other down as if they didn’t live in the same village and meet every day.
It was like they’d stepped back into the days of Queen Serenitatem and Willow Wisp.
“As the Queen of the Caretakers,” Queen Euphoria began, “To our pony villagers and guests, we thank you all for coming to Respite, whether for a permanent stay or a short visit. It truly is you who make our village what it is.”
There was a momentary pause, then a hesitant wince before Cool Breeze spoke up again, “As the pony representative for the Sharers’ Day festivities, we thank our friends from the Caretaker hive for welcoming us into their village with open hooves for all these years, providing us aid when asked, and offering us a home. Without you, there is no Respite.”
No prompting came. In one instant, everyone was standing to full height, their ears perked and eyes attentive. Then, all around Sure Stroke, ponies began to bow, as did their changeling counterparts. She hastened to do the same, nearly toppling over as she lowered her head until her snout was level with her knee. A pair of familiar chitters tickled her ears. Cheeks burning, she glanced up and found herself met with matching smirks from Aspire and Esalen.
She puffed out her cheeks, mouthing, “Shut up!”
They waggled their ears and replied in kind, and in perfect unison, “Not a chance!”
Sure Stroke balanced a plate laden with more food than she was sure she could eat, yet another tradition of the village’s festivities. She joined her friends, squeezing herself between the terrible twins and sidling up to her boyfriend, who turned and met her with a grin and nuzzle against her nose. Esalen, on the other hoof, gave her a quick smile before returning her attention to Toola Roola.
It took all of the pegasus’s self-control not to grin as she watched them chat. The way Toola’s eyes shone, a rosy blush blossomed across her magenta cheeks, made her just want to take to the sky and do a backflip.
But that wasn’t her place. Whether or not anything came of Toola’s crush, and Esalen’s apparent crush, was entirely up to them. Both Aspire and herself had decided quite some time ago that they wouldn’t stoop so low as to shove the pair into anything, they’d just sit back and enjoy the fallout.
Unless, of course, the opportunity presented itself. Aspire hadn’t forgotten.
He never would.
Speaking of her boyfriend, it was high time she paid him more attention.
Fluffing her feathers, Sure Stroke leaned in close, rubbing their shoulders together. Aspire turned to meet her gaze with a warm smile spread across his face, those gorgeous blue eyes were alight with utmost joy.
Again he leaned in to nuzzle their noses together. “So,” he said softly, pausing to lick her nose, “we told you it was a nice thing, didn’t we?”
“After weeks of feigning deafness and grinning at me? Yes,” she retorted as she returned the gesture in kind, then planted a soft kiss on his lips. “And that was a nice story. Why didn’t you tell me when I first asked? Or is leaving newcomers in the dark until they find out themselves part of the deal?”
Aspire simply shrugged. “Sorta? It’s not really part of the tradition, but a lot of us like to use a pony’s first Sharers’ Day to …” he trailed off, rolling a hoof through the air as if to snatch the word out of the aether. “Eh, I guess you could say it’s like the last thing before you’re a true member of the village—we treat you to a day of gratitude just like the original ponies, and you have to sit there, accept our gifts, and all our love in return.” His eyes narrowed, he spoke with such faux severity she was surprised it didn’t dribble down his chin, “Or, at least, you were supposed to do that. You obstreperous filly.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Obstrepe—what?” she asked, swishing her tail as she speared a carrot on her fork and brought it to her lips. “Did you swallow a thesaurus? More importantly, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”
As soon as the words left her lips, Sure Stroke knew she’d made a mistake.
She’d fed him the perfect straight line.
Aspire leaned in close enough that his breath washed over her lips, his eyes flashing a dangerous green. “No,” he purred, slowly licking her cheek as she took a bite of carrot, grinning at the way she shuddered. “I don’t. I kiss you with this mouth, Doodle. And I plan to do that a lot once we’re all done exchanging presents. Just you wait.”
Her feathers fluffed. Sure Stroke swallowed a lump, averting her eyes to escape his and that blasted grin. He knew too well how to play her, far too well for her liking.
Yet, she did love it. She loved everything about the smug, teasing changeling nosing against her cheek, trailing fluffy kisses as he promised to make her squirm in his grasp for each wing smack, every snide comment, and, oh, would she ever get it if she dared one-up his gift.
Did she dare?
When she first moved to Respite ages ago? Heavens no. But now? After months of such affection? After all that time returning his kisses, wrapping her wings around him while they walked through the rain, and sitting in the shade of her favorite tree, yes. Yes, she did dare.
Out of the corner of her eye, she took note of his plate, stacked with fish, steamed vegetables, and several sweets he’d pilfered from the dessert table before Sweet Treat or the Mint twins could stop him from swiping extras. No doubt he planned on filling up early so they could spend all evening together once they finished exchanging gifts with the others.
Not a bad plan, all in all.
If only there weren’t an obstreper—whatever filly there to poke a hole in such a plan.
She reached over and snagged the edge of his plate, tugging it toward her. Aspire caught her by the wrist before she’d even moved it an inch, arching an amused brow in silent prompting.
Sure Stroke ducked her head. So much for playing coy. She leaned in close and spoke, putting every fiber of her efforts into keeping her lips still, “I was going to say you won’t need to eat that today.”
His brows disappeared beneath his bangs. The brilliant mind behind those sky blue eyes raced, she could almost see him working through a series of math problems to find the answer.
Slowly but surely, he worked it out. His ears stood up straight, his eyes shone with unfettered glee as he wagged his messy blue tail like an eager puppy. His wings even began to buzz as he licked his lips and grinned, then kissed her deeper than ever before. His tongue teased her lips, coaxing them open for a bare instant, so he could slip it into her mouth and tickle and tease hers until she loosed a shuddering gasp into the kiss.
A scraping of ceramic plate against wood made her ears twitch. Aspire broke the kiss and drew back a mere hair’s breadth, a chitter rolled in the back of his throat. “Eat up, Sure Stroke,” he said softly. “And thank you for the gift.”
This time it was her turn to smirk and peck his lips. “One of them,” she replied.
“One of them?” His brows disappeared once more, the grin on his face faded. “You’re going to spoil me, Doodle.”
She beamed and waggled her ears in reply. “I guess you’ll just have to accept being lavished by a pony this year, O Venerable Smugling.”
Aspire snorted. “Hush up and eat your meals, Doodle. One day I’m going to teach you to quit while you’re ahead.”
A giggle bubbled forth from her chest, but Sure Stroke did as she was told. A few more ideas were already turning about in her head to add onto feeding and his actual gift, if he thought she was ahead now, he would be a blushing, fuming, sputtering, hissing mess once he got his last.
The foals and nymphs finished their meals in short order, before they moved to put their plates away. Then it was time for gifts.
Oh did that ever start a rush to make sure they found a good spot to set up the exchange. Such places were, evidently, a premium, what with all the old friends and their families spending time together, lovers necking and taking walks through the village and nearer forest paths—Sure Stroke was quite certain she caught Alto wandering toward the lake with Maple and a rather full picnic basket—and taking one another aside to ask the all-important question, and, of course, husbands and wives huddled together in warm embraces. She even saw her parents standing alongside Aspire and Esalen’s and Queen Euphoria’s entourage, with the Queen herself offering a colorfully wrapped box to the pair. Respite was, in her opinion, more saccharine than a barrel full of pure sugar.
The Caretakers probably loved it.
Once they had secured their table once more, it was decided that they would pass out presents to one another, then break to go give to those who either weren’t with them or, in Sure Stroke and Aspire’s case (and, unsaid, Esalen and Toola’s) a chance to spend a little time together as a couple in a more private setting.
Presents were then exchanged. It was to Sure Stroke’s great relief that everyone seemed to love her selections, Zephyr all but cracked her ribs while he chittered out his thanks for his book, while Nimble was a bit more subdued. A warm embrace, soft nuzzle, and playful promise to let her off the hook for tickles for a month were her way. Vector was thrilled enough with his new flight weights to put them right on and fly a quick circle overhead, wowing them all with his strength and speed while Esalen and Toola unwrapped theirs.
“When did you get this, Doodle?” Toola asked, leveling her with a playfully suspicious look. “I was with you all day when we shopped in Manehattan.”
Sure Stroke returned a smirk so smug she could hear Aspire hum in approval. “I had mom distract you while I was picking out dancing shoes for Nim, you silly thing. Didn’t you notice me slip away?”
Magenta ears perked up as her mint blue eyes widened. Toola shredded the wrapping with vigor, then tossed the top away, nearly clipping her sister with the corner. A squeal built up in her chest and reverberated about in the back of her throat. A grin split her face, she pulled a folded pink yoga mat from within the box and flipped right over the table, landing behind the laughing pegasus and sweeping her into a hug as she nuzzled into the crook of her neck. Whatever thank she gave was lost in the high-pitched, rapid-fire babble that spilled from her lips into Sure Stroke’s ears.
Aspire chittered and grinned. “Hey! You keep holding her like that, I’ll think you’re trying to steal her, Toola. Get your own Doodle!”
Ceasing her nuzzling for a moment, Toola Roola blew a raspberry and made to fire off a retort. But Esalen’s voice cut across them.
“Actually,” she purred, her coy smirk spreading into a wide, toothy grin. Her sugar pink eyes danced and glittered like jewels in the sunlight as she slowly, reverently lifted her gifts out of the box and displayed the title: Esalen Massage Therapy: How a Gentle Touch Can Make a World of Difference and the scented candle Sure Stroke had snuck while Toola wasn’t looking—the scent of vanilla and lilac.
It took every ounce of her self-control not to smile at the way Toola gasped and turn away to hide a blush. She watched Esalen lean in to take a deep sniff, her pink eyes fluttering shut to savor it a moment. When they opened again, they flitted toward the little gymnast for but an instant.
More than enough.
I knew it.
Esalen placed them down on the table and leveled Sure Stroke with a half-lidded stare as she pulled her into an embrace and nuzzled her nose. “I would say you’ve got more to worry about me stealing her, oh lovable pest of a brother of mine.” Then she heaved a sigh of feigned disappointment and planted an affectionate lick on Sure Stroke’s cheek. “If not for the fact that you two look adorable together, smitten with one another, and my eyes being elsewhere.”
Behind them, Sure Stroke heard Toola draw in a breath, but she didn’t call attention to it. Instead, she returned Esalen’s hug and nuzzle. “I’m glad you like it. I figured you might get a lot of massage stuff today, but this might be something you can use for your trade when you start working toward it.”
“Definitely.” Another nuzzle came in return, along with her familiar coy smirk. “And I got something I think you and Aspire will just adore,” she crooned, her tone as sweet as honey straight from a beehive.
Sure Stroke felt a shiver run to the tips of her pinions. There was something about that tone, the smirk she so often wore seemed to take an extra edge. Whatever Esalen had planned for her, she was certain of one thing: it was going to make a scene.
Her friends were sparked into action by Esalen’s claim. Presents were shoved her way by eager hooves. From Toola and Nimble there were three new sketchpads and a set of pencils, from Vector a large box of coloring pencils and charcoal, and Zephyr had bought her a nice set of brushes and paints.
“How did you know I’d been missing painting?” she asked, fixing the lounging nymph with a skeptical look.
Zephyr snorted and gave a lazy smile. “I sorta guessed based on your cutie mark. The whole paint brush being there is a bit of a hint.”
Though her cheeks colored at his comment, she managed to keep from ducking her head. “Well … thank you! Really, but … it’s sort of hard to paint without an easel and canvas.”
“Oh, is it?” he asked, his tone dripping with false innocence. “Imagine that.”
Imagine that her cutie mark. If he wasn’t up to something, she’d pluck her own feathers. Before she could make move to press the issue, Esalen slid a thin rectangular package before her, the tag upon it bearing both her name and Aspire’s.
Her eyes narrowed. Slowly, she turned to glance at Aspire, who fixed her with a wide-eyed look and shook his head. Both turned to face a grinning, buzzing Esalen.
“Go on, lovebirds,” she teased. “One of you open it.”
Hesitation made her feathers bristle. Without taking her eyes off of Esalen, Sure Stroke took the package in hoof and began to cautiously tear and remove the wrapping paper. All the while watching the corners of her friend’s mouth twitch, those sugar pink eyes dazzling with delight. Once it had all been cleared away, she turned her gaze to the package and removed the lid.
A slender purple and blue book bound by black metal rings faced up at her. A photo album, judging by the texture of the pages poking out from within.
That it bore the title Memories of a Doodling Pegasus and a Smugling Teacher was another hint.
Curious, she opened it to the first page. Immediately, she felt the burn return to her cheeks and spread to her neck, her shoulders, even to the tips of her ears. Her feathers fluffed as she gaped down at several pictures of herself and Aspire seated by the lake, her head on his shoulder while he nuzzled into her mane. Then another of them reading together. Then one of her leaning in …
And, of course, the kiss.
“Esalen!” Aspire hissed, his eyes flashing green. He leapt to his hooves and bared his fangs.
Chittering madly, Esalen slipped off the bench and grabbed Toola Roola, sticking her serpentine tongue out at them as she bounded out of his reach. “It wasn’t to slight you!” she called back, the grin still on her face even as she backpedalled. “I could have spread it around town, but those are just meant for you two and our little group. Mostly you, though.”
Sure Stroke could hear Aspire grind his teeth. “You,” he said slowly, “are going to pay for that someday. The gift it nice, but sneaking up on our first date? You’re going to pay.”
To her credit, Esalen nodded once. “Fair enough. Until then—” she wrapped Toola in a one-legged hug, sharing a grin with the bouncy gymnast “—I have business with this one and her present. Happy Sharers’ Day, everyone!”
The others laughed and chittered at her antics, waving the pair goodbye while Aspire and Sure Stroke huddled together and fixed her with matching looks that spoke both of aggravation and a hint of fondness for the meddlesome nymph as she walked away, swishing her fluffy pink tail, with Toola close by her side.
“Well,” Aspire mumbled, his cheeks still flushed black, “now that my busybody sister has got her laughs in, why don’t we head out?”
Sure Stroke turned to tilt her head at him. “Did you not bring mine along?”
He shook his head, collecting the photo album without looking back. “Too big to carry,” he replied. “Besides, I kinda like the idea of keeping you all to myself the rest of the day.”
Her tail swished. Now that, she liked the sound of.
She rose with him, smirking as she fluttered her eyelashes and fluffed her feathers. “But who said it would be you keeping me, smugling?”
“I did,” he replied with his usual smirk. “I do. So there.”
“You still don’t know what my gifts are. What makes you think you’re in charge?”
Aspire raised a solemn hoof, then pressed it against her nose. “Wait and see, Doodle. Wait and see.”
Their hooves thudded a steady cadence against the familiar wooden porch way leading up to the front door, Aspire tugged it open with a smile and stood to the side, waving her in like a proper gentlecolt. Or was it gentlebug? They had never quite figured that out. It hadn’t come up since their little hide and seek incident in the forest.
Either way, Sure Stroke nuzzled his nose in thanks as she passed him by, then waited for him to enter and shut the door behind them. Her gaze swept over the family’s sitting room—a rather small think with two small, gelatinous slime pod seats, a wooden table, and a larger pod shaped into an oblong oval, which served as the couch. An odd take on traditional furniture, but, having grown accustomed to the village … it was a passable replacement for cloud cushions. But only just. “So,” she mused, “am I supposed to go sit on a pod and wait with my eyes closed while you bring my gift out?” She waggled her ears. “Or are you going to make me look as payback for making you try to coax yours out of me early?”
Aspire paused a moment and tilted his head, humming to himself as he smiled and seemed to consider the prospect. “It would be fun to watch,” he admitted, “if I’d planned it out so you had to go looking, but no, that wasn’t the idea. First, though, there’s something I need to share with you. Wait here a minute.” He ducked into the kitchen, Sure Stroke’s ears twitched as she listened to him rummaging around and muttering curses while he struggled to find whatever it was he was looking for.
After a couple minutes, he returned with a piece of paper folded into thirds held in hoof. A small smile played upon his lip. “A mutual friend of ours sends his regards.”
Sure Stroke’s ears perked up. “Enticier?”
“Yeah. He’s looking forward to his visit. But he also wanted something else.”
Her smile slowly faded into a frown. “He’s not trying to push you and me to visit again, is he?”
Aspire shook his head. “Nope. He’s sticking to his deal, Doodle.” He held it out to her, gesturing to it with a nod. “Take a look. You’ll see what I meant by how good a friend he can be when he’s not constantly flirting.”
Her curiosity piqued, Sure Stroke accepted the slip of paper, unfolding it with a quick flick of her wrist. Her eyes scanned over the words, eager to see what the formerly flirtatious prince had to say.
Dear Aspire and Sure Stroke,
I hope I’m not being too presumptuous with such a beginning, but we did agree to remain friends. If I am mistaken in addressing you both so informally, I do apologize for the error and will correct it the next time I write. If the two of you are still okay with it, that is.
Things have been well in Paradise since my visit. I’ve been doing quite a bit of thinking since our discussions, especially with you, Sure Stroke. I won’t pretend it wasn’t … jarring to hear your reply that last night I spent in Respite, but it served to wake me up enough to see things from another point of view. A valuable lesson, I think, which has led me to consider alternative means to ensuring ponies’ stays in our resorts yield happy guests, even without our charms.
I hope you two are well and wish you both the best in your continued relationship. Have a wonderful Sharers’ Day, and please do write to let me know how things are. Hopefully sometime in the near future, I’ll be able to escape my new duties assisting my parents so I can visit again, though they might not allow that without at least one or two guards chaperoning my trip—you know how parents can be. Though I am leery of those blasted, tangly nets … I am willing to attempt fishing. Just don’t laugh if I’m bad.
If Aspire is grinning, please smack him for me Sure Stroke. And then resume being the adorable couple you two are. Enjoy Aspire’s gift. He told me about it a few weeks ago. I won’t pretend I’m not eager to see the—ahem—fruit it yields when I next visit. Perhaps we can establish some sort of a trade deal in exchange. I open the floor with an offer of tales of Aspire’s formative years.
Sincerely,
Prince Enticier of the Enchanter Hive
A bright smile bloomed across her face as she finished reading. “That was sweet of him,” she said, carefully folding it up. “We should send him something back in return.”
Aspire waggled his ears. “We can do that tomorrow. I can show you how we send letters to the other big hives and the changelings who live among ponies, actually. You haven’t really had the chance to see it.”
“By virtue of having never seen it, you mean.”
“Well, yes, but that’s not the point. You’ll see it tomorrow. In the meantime, follow me.” Her boyfriend beckoned her toward the hallway, swishing his tail as he trotted by and rubber shoulders with her. “ I’m sure you know the way to my room by now, Doodle.”
Always with the teasing. Sure stroke rolled her eyes, following him with a fond smile gracing her lips and his present thumping merrily against her side within the confines of her saddlebags.
As they came to Aspire’s door, the first on the left, just before Esalen’s room, he turned and held up a hoof. His lips tugged into a smirk. “Okay,” he said, his eyes shining with a knowing gleam. “Now you have to close your eyes.”
She arched a brow. “Really? I thought we weren’t doing that.”
His smirk broadened into a toothy grin. “Actually, if you listened properly, I said that I wasn’t planning on making you search for it. I never said you weren’t going to have to close your eyes.”
Sure Stroke pressed her lips together. He had her there, frankly. So much for how well she’d been doing in picking up on their wordplay and cues. Though, really, that was just her not paying full attention to his reply. Something he would happily play on if she didn’t correct it.
The way he licked his fangs and swished his tail was testament enough to that.
With a sigh and playful mutter of “By Celestia,” she did as asked. “Okay,” she said with only a hint of sarcasm and tossed her mane. “There. Eyes closed. Now—” she held up a hoof for him to take “—I believe you’re supposed to guide me so I don’t run into whatever it is you’ve got in there. And don’t you even think of going for my bags, or I’ll smack you again.”
His chittering laughter tickled her ears. “Of course, I expect as much.” She felt his hoof grip hers, then his smooth lips press against her own in a soft kiss. He drew back just enough to speak, his lips tickling hers with each word, “Don’t worry. Sharers’ Day is the one day of the year you’ll never have to watch out for our tricks. Sharing gifts is just as sharing love or offering trades. No one messes with those three things.”
Sure Stroke’s ears twitched, she made mental note of his comment as she heard him nudge his bedroom door open and slowly lead her inside. She felt his other forehoof touch her shoulder, carefully steering her around the various spellings of storage slime she knew to hang from the walls and spread over the floor like gooey cobwebs, around his pod seat and desk and the bulbous pod the size of two full thunderheads that served as his bed. Her hoof clipped the corner of something solid, drawing a curse from her lips. Aspire offered a hasty apology before tugging her a little more to the left, around whatever object she’d tripped over, then guided her backward until her tail brushed against the wall.
She heard him take in a deep breath. His hooves released her and thudded softly against the wooden floor. Aspire shifted to the side, until he was standing by her right shoulder. A nervous breath tickled her cheek. “Okay,” he said softly. “Open your eyes.”
Her curiosity piqued and heart racing, Sure Stroke opened her eyes, blinking twice to adjust to the dimmed light Aspire favored in his bedroom, and looked forward.
Then her jaw dropped.
Before her stood a wooden easel, just like the one she used to use back home in Cloudsale, when the art teachers would let her play with paints. Its ledge came up to about her chest so it would hold the canvas’s center at eye level. On each leg, she could see a metal adjustor fastened on the side, so she could slide more leg down to make it taller. Already, there was a blank canvas in place, waiting to be painted by an artist’s brush. Alongside the easel, knocked askew by what she now realized had been her own clumsy hoof, were a stack of four pristine white canvases, waiting just like their companion.
Everything clicked into place. Zephyr’s feigned innocence and smirk, all the art supplies Esalen, Nimble, Toola, and Vector bought her, they were all things she’d been wanting for ages or running dangerously low on. Sketches and silly doodles—and yes, they were doodles, she would admit—could only satisfy her for so long. She needed to sketch and color scenery. She needed to paint the sky on a cloudless day, or the verdant forest around their village.
Or those gorgeous blue eyes staring at her, betraying the nervousness of a handsome nymph desperate to know if his gift had been worthy, yet too afraid to flick out his tongue and taste it himself.
A pity, really. The pure joy and love that billowed in her chest would have had him walking on sunshine for hours.
All the better for his meal, of course. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t get a bit of a taste. An appetizer, even.
Though, really, she hardly needed to frame the way she wrapped him in a hug and planted a deep kiss upon him in such a way. Her eyes fluttered shut, though not before she saw his go as wide as dinner plates, just like the day she’d first kissed him, then slowly drooped. Her tongue trailed along his smooth, chitinous lips, teasing the length of his fangs in a way she just knew to coax forth a sharp breath and a buzz of his wings.
She broke the kiss, pausing a moment to lick his nose. “Thank you,” she whispered, kissing the very spot she’d licked. Her embrace tightened. “Thank you so much, Aspire.”
A sheepish, wobbly grin spread across his face. “You’re welcome, Sure Stroke,” he murmured, his cheeks flushed black. “I don’t suppose it would be too much to ask to watch you work on it?”
“Not at all.” Sure Stroke fluffed her feathers and planted another kiss on his lips, then leaned in to whisper, “If I could let Enticier watch me sketch the falls, I can definitely let my boyfriend watch me paint and draw and sketch and doodle whenever he likes.” The grin he gave in reply made her heart flutter. She nuzzled his ear, slowly reaching into her saddlebag for his gift. “Now,” she whispered as she pulled it out and held it beneath his nose, “I believe there’s a nymph who’s behaved well enough to get his present—even though he tried sneaking peeks for two days.”
A merry chitter rolled in the back of his throat. Aspire practically snatched the package from her grasp and sat back on his haunches, grinning like he’d just caught a fish with his bare hooves. “Peeking at ponies’ presents for us is an important Sharers’ Day tradition,” he retorted without taking his eyes off the package. “Blah de blah, insert my usual informational lecture here. What did you get me?” Without waiting for a response, the nymph set about shredding the wrapping paper with both fang and hoof, sending bits of paper everywhere in his haste.
Sure Stroke bit her lip as he removed the top and tossed it haphazardly across the room, where it struck and stuck in a web of storage slime. He gazed into the box, then pulled out his mug.
It was a simple affair. Painted pure white, with a deep, verdant green interior, dotted with ovals, circles, and oblong shapes to imitate those in his legs, mane, and tail. He rolled it about in his hoof, smiling at the detail—genuine smile, not a smirk or grin, but one reserved only for those closest to him.
Then he turned it and saw the face.
He threw back his head and let out a chitter that echoed through the room. His wings buzzed, he brought a hoof to cover his mouth, his shoulders shook as he turned it around to display for her. “World’s Smuggest Changeling?” he cried through his mirth. “Oh, this is just perfect! I’m going to keep this on my desk and drink out of it when I get to teach! I can just recline and smirk while everyone takes tests!”
“Or groan at your stupid jokes and terrible puns.” Beaming Sure Stroke leaned down to nuzzle his nose. “I’m glad you like it, Aspire. I wanted to make something personal.”
“Like it?” Aspire cupped her chin so he could gaze into her eyes. “I love it, Sure Stroke. I love all the little touches you put into it. I love you so much.” He licked her snout from chin to nose. His eyes shone with joy. “And I can tell how much you put into this. And how much you love me.”
A shudder ran down her spine as he set the mug down, then began to rise. He stepped forward, nosing against her as he playfully pushed her, forcing Sure Stroke to take a step back. Then another. The young nymph said nothing, simply smiling and gazing into her eyes while he nuzzled a slow circle around her nose and guided her back until her rump touched the gelatinous surface of his bedpod.
He brought a hoof to her chest, gently pushing her to lay down in the warm, gooey embrace of changeling slime. Aspire slithered on top of her, leaning down so their lips were a mere fraction of a hair apart. “So before I get present number two,” he whispered. “I have to point out that I’ve noticed something about your gift.”
“O-Oh?” Sure Stroke asked. “What’s that?”
“I can’t take it with me if we travel anywhere. And I especially can’t put this on my muzzle.”
“Why not? Because it says that you’re a changeling on it?”
His eyes glittered. “No. Because then I'd be smuggling a smugling mug on a smugling's smug mug."
Sure Stroke fixed him with a glare. “I take it all back. I hate you, I hate your stupid puns, and I’m destroying that mug.”
Aspire simply licked his lips and hummed as if savoring the taste. “Mmm, a hint of irritation, but no hate, I’m afraid. In fact—” he leaned up to whisper in her ear, his eyes glowed a vibrant green “—you’re so delectably full of love right now, it’s making my mouth water. And I’ve been looking forward to feeding on you ever since you offered it at lunch …”
Not a subtle hint, but, then again, there didn’t need to be any such things. He was hungry and she’d promised.
More than enough to make any nymph antsy and ready to pounce, though only when finally granted permission to feed.
He’d have to wait just a moment longer, though. There was still part three.
“Before you do,” she said, “there is one last present I had in mind.”
Aspire drew back, his eyes shone brighter than before. “You’re going to spoil me,” he drawled teasingly. “You realize if you give me something else I want, I’m going to have to find a way to match it. I can’t just let you give something more on Sharers’ Day when I’m supposed to be thanking you for the love you give, not eating more of it like I’m about to.”
Sure Stroke rolled her eyes. “If it helps, it’s something you’ve wanted and something I’ve hesitated on.”
His brows shot up. “Oh?”
“And it’s …” She ducked her head to hide a goofy smile. “It’s something I hadn’t given much thought toward after you stopped bringing it up, but now … I want it.”
“Go on.”
She took a deep breath to ready herself. Then leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “I want to sleep in a bedwrap with you tonight.”
Never in all her years would she forget the way his face lit up like Clousdale’s skyline on Hearth’s Warming Eve, nor the way he held her as he closed the distance and kissed her as only a changeling could. His tongue slipped into her mouth and teased, prodded, and encircled her own in a passionate dance that made her eyes cross and tail twitch. Or the way she moaned into his mouth, hugging him tightly as she felt him inhale and draw in a drink of her love.
All of it for him.
The tingle that spread through her chest felt like warm fluff. The same way he made her feel each and every day. Puns, stupid jokes, affectionate nuzzles, licks, kisses, and all. What better meal for her favorite nymph?
What better way to tell her boyfriend how much she loved him?