//------------------------------// // 10. Kiss Me Like We've Been Apart a Thousand Years // Story: Out of Love // by Carapace //------------------------------// Her hooves kneaded and rolled the stallion’s tender muscles, spurring a deep, throaty hum which reverberated within his chest and a fluff of those gray-blue feathers. Esalen smiled to herself, flicking her tongue out to savor the taste of Vector’s delectably sweet, contented bliss. The merry swish of his tail betraying his delight. “Dear Morrigan, do you have any idea how good this feels?” he murmured sleepily.  “I can only imagine.” Her smile spread to a toothy grin. “You look like you’ve been run ragged.” And so he did. The dark circles around his eyes and the lack of luster in his mane told the tale of early rising and late sleeping. A testament to his work as Village Guard. A testament to the tension still hanging over everyone, even though most had tried to move on with their daily lives as normal. Vector, Zephyr, and the other guards didn’t have that luxury. Vector snorted, but didn’t open his eyes. “After all those drills they’ve been having us do, all the patrols, and all the extra shifts, I’d be shocked if there’s anyone who isn’t starting to feel it.” He sighed, flicking his tail irritably. “I’ve heard word that Hawkeye and Merryweather are supposed to be returning soon—hopefully, with good news. I don’t think I or the other two new guards can keep it up, and even some of the vets are starting to show signs of fatigue.” Esalen’s hooves hesitated for a split second. A frown marred her beautiful face as she forced herself to resume and finish up his massage. “Do you think that’ll mean Queen Euphoria will have to bring back some of the conscripted training?” she asked. “Like what happened before?” “You mean during the days of the Changeling Wars,” he supplied. With another snort, he bobbed his head from one side to the other. “Hasn’t come up as far as I know, but I’m low-level. I’d say that won’t happen unless whatever news they bring back drastically changes relations. At least, that’s what Zephyr thinks. Vigil is of two minds on it, from what she’s been willing to say.” “And what’s her input?” “That we shouldn’t be conscripting, but that we might want to consider asking folks like our parents who served to act as reserves.” He cracked open an eye to glance over his shoulder at her. “I went to have dinner with mine the other week. Their armor was out and polished like they expected it. Yours?” This time, her hooves did stop. Esalen bit her lip, her eyes fell to the wooden floor beneath her hooves. Both of her parents had served, briefly, as reserve guards under Queen Chaete. Officially, the Caretaker Queens hadn’t conscripted villagers into service in nearly two hundred years. The tradition of villagers joining up as reserve guards at minimum only began to change some quarter-century ago.  Would that end after the Long Night? There was, after all, only one who had ever dared to wrest control of the heavens from Princess Celestia. She shook her head. “I haven’t been to the house. Admittedly, things have been such a whirlwind, I’ve not even thought to go visit.” “I know the feeling. I probably wouldn’t have if mom hadn’t caught Zephyr and me while we were stumbling home after a shift and took us under her wing with a promise of a hot meal.” Vector grinned sheepishly. “Can’t help but be a sucker for mom, right?” “Who isn’t?” Esalen quipped with a soft chitter. With a soft pat on his thigh, she said, “Get up and walk around, tell me how you feel now.” Scarcely had the words left her mouth before Vector hopped right off the table and landed nimbly on his hooves, with a little flap of his wings for good measure. The stallion jogged a few steps in place, then trotted a brisk circuit around the room as asked, beaming as he came to a stop before her again. “Feels great, Essy! You’re a lifesaver!” She gave another chitter, swatting his shoulder. “Oh, hush! You were a little stiff and tender, you great, big foal! You act like I just sewed your wings back on!” “Maybe you did!” He feigned a stumble and leaned against her, pressing his cheek against hers. “Maybe if not for the efforts of our favorite new massage therapist, I might have my wings fall right off in the middle of our next flight over the forest! I could fall right into a den of timberwolves!” “Oh, away you pesky pegasus!” she cackled, shoving him playfully. Aiming a glare at him, she shook her head. “Troublesome stallion.” “Says the changeling.” “Touché, Zippy. I can’t argue that one at all.” With a smirk that rivaled her pest of a brother, Vector gave his mane a toss and said, “I’ll cherish this victory for all time. Now, then.” He drew away and took a couple steps back, his smirk fell and changed to a sincere smile. “How much do you want?” Esalen’s ears twitched. “Hmm?” “Don’t play coy, Essy. You know what I mean.” He waggled his ears. “Love, you silly changeling. How hungry are you? I’m happy to offer a meal’s worth with as good as you’ve made me feel the last couple times.” Again, her ears twitched. How hungry was she?  It was nearing lunchtime and, by some twisted cosmic joke, changelings were always hungry. It was their nature to be gluttonous, greedy for love. Oh, love given freely did fill them up well. For quite a time. But it was always there. That insatiable want for more. Especially with how sweet love tasted when given freely, when directed at the changeling feeding—not a false face, the actual changeling. And Vector had never been one to deny his friends a sip, a drink, or a full meal when asked. So long as the deal was favorable and just. Or, rather, fair and just in terms of what he received. It was no secret how much he tried to give. This? Well … A flick of her tongue had her mouth watering. He was full of love, positively radiating that friendly affection for her. The taste of sweetbread and cider danced upon her tongue and begged to be devoured. But this wasn’t a fair trade for him. Not with how exhausted he was. The dear fool needed rest. Esalen shook her head. “I can’t accept your love, Vector,” she said with a sad smile. “It’s not a fair trade.” “What?” Vector blinked twice. “Essy, come on, you know it is.” “You and the other guards have been working yourselves to the bone to keep us safe. I couldn’t, not in good conscience.” She patted his shoulder. “I’ll take your bits, but I won’t take a sip of love. I won’t pretend you’re not delicious, I won’t pretend I don’t want it, but I won’t let you give it. Not when I can see you already look like you need to go home and sleep for about twelve hours.” Esalen set her hoof down with a sharp clop. “Your trade is unfair to yourself. I’ll accept no more than five bits and a promise that you’ll rest.” He frowned and took a step forward, setting his jaw as though he meant to argue his point further. But then, just before he could speak, Toola Roola came prancing into the room. “Caress says it’s break time!” Toola sang, her voice as sweet as honey. “Which means lunchtime for beautiful changelings and bouncy Toolas—hi, Zippy! How’s the guard life?” “Er.” His eyes flitted between her and Esalen, a crooked smile made its way across his face. “Every day’s a challenge, but we overcome. Just came by to have Essy help me work out a little stiffness.” Oh, wordplay. Cute, but you’re not Aspire or Grandpa Beguile. With a roll of her eyes, Esalen turned and kissed Toola’s nose. “He was sore and aching in his legs and back, so I gave him another massage.” Then, she turned a smile so vulpine upon the stallion, he squirmed in place. “And now the dear fool has let his brain go zipping off into the distance, thinking he’s going to feed me a full meal in his state.” Toola gasped and rounded on Vector, just in time to catch the look of utmost betrayal that flashed across his face. In a rare show of ire, she stomped twice on the floor and shook her head so hard her curls bounced. “Absolutely not!” she scolded. “You know better than to offer when you’re tired, and you look terrible, Vector!” Vector ducked his head, his ears splayed back against his mane. “But … it’s equivalent?” “It’s to my discretion,” Esalen countered.  “And she’s said no.” Toola stepped toward him, cowing him despite her short stature. “So bits only! What was the alternative?” Esalen didn’t give him a chance to wheedle. “Five bits and a promise that he’d rest.” Nodding, Toola tilted her head. “Any counter offer with bits?”  For a moment, he looked like he might try to fight once more. Vector tasted as though he’d like nothing more than to plant his hooves and argue his case.  So it fell upon Esalen to go in for the kill. She stepped close, laying a hoof upon his shoulder again. “I’d love to feed on you, Vector. You’ve always tasted sweet and been a good meal, but I really can’t feed on a friend when I see him so tired.” She leaned in, nuzzling his cheek. “I’ll raise to seven bits,” she offered. “But please promise me you’ll sleep?” Vector let out a low, discontented grumble. “Eight,” he grunted, fishing out a hoof-full of bits. “Let me pay you what you’ve actually earned in some way, please.” “I accept.” Beaming, Esalen planted a chaste kiss on his cheek and accepted the bits. After she floated them over to her purse, she gave him a light shoulder bump toward the door. “Now, get your happy feathery rear in gear, Zippy. Go home and sleep. And don’t you even think of taking a power nap or I’ll come wrap you up and give you to Queen Euphoria to watch over.” “Yipe! No thanks!” He skittered away, his eyes wide and feathers bristling. “We’re gonna have to worry enough about her doting once we’re off high-alert! I do not need that on top of it!” The couple grinned as they watched their friend hurry out like the hounds of Tartarus were nipping at his hooves. Giggling, Toola spun on one hoof and caught Esalen in a loose embrace, bending backward and hanging from her shoulders. “So,” she said, “where and what do you wanna eat, sexy changeling?” “Sexy?” Esalen purred. She looped a hoof around Toola’s head, leaning in to nibble at those soft, delectable lips. “Well, with talk like that, I’d say your love, treasure. But I may have need of you being peppy and energetic later on.” Planting a quick kiss, she licked Toola from chin to nose. “When we’re alone.” The rosy red which spread through her love’s face was just delightful. Delicious! It even managed to reach the nape of her neck, and the tips of  those soft, vulnerable ears. Such a shame this wasn’t the place to hold her close and nibble a bit. Chuckling, Esalen kissed her forehead and asked, “How much time did she say we had?” “T-Two hours,” Toola squeaked. Plenty of time for what she hd in mind. “Let’s swing by the house,” Esalen began, “we can pick up a few things, then eat together at the edge of the forest. A little picnic, just you and me.” She drew in close, teasing her lips against Toola’s as she whispered, “Would my treasure like that?” Between the sweet taste of love and giddiness, the spice of something quite a bit more heated, and the eager kiss her proposal earned, Esalen was quite confident in claiming victory. A soft blanket had been laid out over a little spot between their back yard and the forest, upon the cool dirt in the shade of a great oak tree. In short order, the pair had put together a modest little picnic, respectable for a spur of the moment affair. A few sandwiches, a modest tulip and violet salad with fresh greens and a few sliced tomatoes—Toola couldn’t abide whole tomatoes, for reasons she seemingly refused to explain, as Esalen learned—along with a pitcher of some strawberry, banana, and citrus drink the villagers affectionately dubbed “fruit breeze.” A name which never failed to earn giggles and chitters and teasing questions of just what manner of whimsical silliness inspired it among the foals and nymphs. And one which earned knowing smiles and insistence that they’d figure it out someday from the adults. They never did, of course. Because there was no answer. It was just a name. But what better way to tease a bunch of curious little ones than to make them think there was some big secret only the adults knew? Toola Roola laid across Esalen’s back, the mare’s warm body and velvety smooth coat a welcome feeling for the relaxing changeling. Every so often, she would lean over between bites or sips and brush their cheeks together, humming a low, happy note. Like a siren song to coax a reply. As if any such were needed. Esalen was all to happy to turn her head and nuzzle along her jawline, trailing a fluffy kiss here and there which spurred a gasp or croon from those sweet lips. And with each, she would draw closer, tantalizingly so until her happy, prancing treasure would let her eyes flutter shut and part her lips. Only to be denied at the last moment. “Essyyyyyyyyy!” Toola whined, kicking her hind hooves against the blanket and wringing her sandwich in hoof.  To her credit, Esalen’s face betrayed nothing. She simply aimed an innocent smile and raised her brows, waggling her ears. “Yes, Toolaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?” she whined back. Another whine and kicking of her hooves, this time coupled with an adorable pout only Toola Roola could manage. “Stop teasing me!” she complained. Esalen tapped a hoof against her chin and feigned a contemplative frown, humming a low note. Then, she turned and offered a small smile, her eyes fluttering as she drew in give Toola the kiss she so craved. She waited until the last possible instant, when her beloved girlfriend’s eyes fluttered shut and her breath hitched in her chest, those lips parting once more, before she adjusted her course and nipped the very tip of her snout. Toola squealed and scrunched her nose. Then, when she realized she’d been had, she aimed a glare at Esalen. A glare which was quite ruined by the poorly hidden smile and blush dusting her cheeks. “I take it back,” she grumbled. “Oh?” Esalen arched a brow. “And just what do you take back, treasure?” “You’re not a sexy changeling at all.” Her aquamarine eyes shone with humor. “You’re a mean changeling and I’m gonna tell everyone ever! So there!” Toola punctuated her words with a little nod and a snort, then began to rise and scoot herself to the other side of the blanket. Quick as a cat, Esalen reached out and deftly swiped her planted hoof to trip her, sending her tumbling onto her back in a wild flail of limbs. Easy prey to be pounced and pinned, even with a mouthful of lettuce and flowers. Swallowing the mouthful, she grinned. “So there?” she mimicked. “A mean changeling, am I?” Toola sucked in her lips to hide a smile, squirming beneath her. She even ducked her head as if she thought she could hide behind her half-eaten sandwich. “Maybe not so mean you’d tease and torment a poor, innocent mare trapped beneath her beautiful, sexy girlfriend?” she offered hopefully. “Oh! I’m beautiful and sexy now, am I? How things change when I have you trapped!” Esalen grinned and leaned in close, her breath washing over Toola’s face. The mare beneath her shuddered and gasped, tilting her head back to allow a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. She did not, however, expect Esalen to steal a generous bite of her sandwich, or hum in thought like she were considering a prisoner’s fate. “And you are many things, treasure. Innocent, I’m afraid, is not,” she quipped after swallowing the bite. Again, she drew herself close, whispering in Toola’s ear in a low purr, “Or need I remind this gorgeous mare I’ve caught of our first night in our new home?” “Maaaaaaaybe!” came the trilled reply. Her cheeks flushing, Toola turned to nuzzle beneath Esalen’s ear and whisper, “Maybe I like hearing I can make my gorgeous Essy purr like a kitten and think about us.” A hint of a blush filled Esalen’s cheeks. “That you don’t have to worry about at all.” She turned to plant a soft kiss on her love’s lips, then nuzzled a slow circle about her nose. “I think of my treasure more than she could ever know. Even if she’s a little minx pretending she’s an innocent, bubbly mare.” “Only a little guilty!” Toola chirped before stealing a kiss and settling back upon the blanket. A little? Esalen arched a brow, a reminder of some of the events of that night and others which followed, and a few secretive meetings prior ventured to the tip of her tongue. But she let the moment pass, instead favoring to settle down atop her girlfriend with another shared kiss, then laid her head on Toola’s soft, warm chest. A low, contented purr building within her chest, and given voice in the back of her throat. The musical giggle and kiss to her forehead it drew earned a lower pitch and affectionate lick. This was just perfect. A home with her brother, her best friend, and her girlfriend, a trade shared both with the latter and her late grandfather, and this moment. A quiet moment on a picnic with Toola Roola. What could be better? Toola’s hoof began to run gently through her mane. “Zippy looks exhausted lately,” she murmured. “All of them do.” “Yeah. I can’t blame them.” Breathing a heavy sigh through her nose, Esalen nuzzled into Toola’s chest. “I think everyone’s still a bit worried since … that night.” Humming an affirmative, Toola wrapped her free hoof. After a few seconds of silence, she asked, “Do you think it’s true? Those stories about Nightmare Moon being Princess Celestia’s sister?” “I believe them. I mean, I certainly believe we came from the Eternal Forest of Emerald Isle, why shouldn’t I believe one of your tales?” “Fair enough. It’s a bit of a silly thought anyway.” Esalen wrinkled her snout. She raised her head and propped it upon the back of her wrist so she could meet Toola’s gaze. “What do you mean? What’s on your mind, gigglebox?” “I’m gigglebox instead of treasure now?” Toola teased. “You were never not gigglebox. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.” She leaned in to nip Toola’s lips. “Now answer the question.” Giggling just as she was wont, Toola shrugged. “It’s nothing big, really. I was just thinking about how bad the fight must’ve been between them. For Nightmare Moon to end up banished, I mean.” “You mean like how hard they must’ve fought?” “Not like that, no.” She shook her head. “I guess just … I’ve fought with Nimble and you’ve fought with Aspire, but I don’t think either of us have ever thought to do something like that. Banishing them, I mean.” A frown marred Esalen’s face. True, she’d had plenty of fights over the years with Aspire, and there had been a time or two she would’ve happily told him to go suck on rancid fish or dunk his head in the lake. But no matter how angry he made her or vice versa, he was still her brother.  They were still kin. But Princess Celestia and Nightmare Moon. Well, there was a tale on the mouths and lips of any who paid attention to old mythology and lore. For changelings, it was tantamount. After all, most of their history was hidden in such tales. Princess Celestia and Nightmare Moon did fight, legendarily so. A fit of jealousy and temper which ended with the younger sister imprisoned within her beloved moon for a thousand years. A thousand long years. “Do you think they could ever make up?” Toola asked. “Huh?” Esalen blinked. “What do you mean?” “Just that. Do you think they could ever make up and be family again? Like you and Aspire or Nimmy and me?” Another difficult question. Ponies were a bit strange in that way, always focused more on forgiveness and making amends, absolving one another of their slights without balancing the scales. Or perhaps, balancing it all with feelings and talk. A changeling would demand repayment for such a slight as Nightmare Moon committed against her elder sister. A changeling Queen might demand some great, terrible deed be done in exchange for absolution. Then again … Princess Celestia hadn’t just forgiven her. Nightmare Moon had been imprisoned for a thousand years—a thousand years trapped within her own beloved moon, alone as the seasons changed and the world moved on without her. Perhaps, if pushed far enough, ponies could be rather changeling in that regard. “I hope so,” Esalen found herself replying. “After a thousand years, I’d like to think maybe they could. After they calmed down.” “Yeah. Me too.” Toola seemed to think a moment, her lips slowly tugging into a smile as she set her sandwich aside, then looped her hooves around  Esalen’s neck in a loose hug. “Kiss me. Right now, like it were us.” Blinking, Esalen tilted her head. “Gladly, but like it were us that what?” Toola leaned in, her warm breath teasing Esalen’s polished face and the tips of her fangs. Her soft lips tickling as they brushed together. “Kiss me like we’ve been apart for a thousand years and we’re seeing each other again for the first time.” The love and desire which flavored those words drew a purr deeper than before. Esalen eased her back, laying her down upon the blanket, and closed the short distance between those sweet lips and her own without hesitation or play, slipping her tongue into Toola’s waiting mouth to join together in a sensuous dance of prodding and caressing. Their return to the clinic was twenty minutes late, but Caress forgave them. The raised brow and knowing smirk sent the pair giggling and chittering as they fled to their respective rooms.