//------------------------------// // Taboo // Story: Daily Equestria Life With Monster Girl // by Estee //------------------------------// It was a pocket of spring in the midst of autumn, and the girl had to keep telling herself it was a false one. That the warmth could depart at any moment, would leave as soon as the opportunity arose. The chill was simply waiting for its chance. A instant of thermal mirth, where it could mock her for believing in warmth at all. But the little knight stayed close. (Cerea was afraid to look at any of the others as the partial procession shifted along under moonlight, not wanting to see how they reacted to that proximity,) It was necessary, because a mare who was more skilled than anypony else in the Guard with wind didn’t possess quite the same degree of skill for heat-shifting. There had been another technique used before the mass exit had started, something Cerea hadn’t seen before. There were no seaponies, which meant the strongest manipulations for one substance probably belonged to a species which didn’t exist -- but weather manipulation required pegasi to be capable of shifting moisture. Rivers, streams, perhaps even the density of a tap’s trickle might have been beyond them: chill liquid which had dispersed throughout padding was scattered enough to work with. The little knight had done something, and then a still-stunned centaur had been carefully stepping out of a newborn mud puddle. It was easy enough to dry her. Warming required more of a constant effort, with black wings taking fading heat away from autumn air and focusing it upon a slow-moving target. Within a few centimeters of Cerea’s skin, it became spring. It was also the kind of spring where winter wasn’t quite done with you yet and at the moment you started to feel comfortable, a chill breeze would serve as a reminder that when it came to seasonal change, equinoxes mostly served as a fairly strong suggestion. (She didn’t know about the part ponies played in that shift within their own country, while so many of the other nations did perfectly well without. That part of her education would lead to questions. Just about everything did.) The departing procession wasn’t all that united. Two of those who’d been fought had already been evacuated: Derecho and Bulkhead were being examined by the Doctors Bear. A rattled Casta was very carefully picking her way along at the rear, as being launched for a few meters while inside armor was the sort of thing which could give the receiving party some trouble afterwards, along with several questions about how many limbs they were meant to be working with. A muttering Sedi had been carried into the main building to await the attentions of a fur dryer or a chisel: some of the darker half-heard vocalizations suggested it was mostly a matter of whichever came first. Squall had been left behind: the Sergeant wanted to have Words with him, and everyone was trying not to pay visible attention to the rather loud Echoes. The rest were scattered in Cerea’s wake. She could feel their gazes on her flanks, and refused to let herself look at their source. It didn’t take long for the group to further disperse: Acrolith and the other earth pony headed towards the edge of the shield, preferring trot over teleport. The last unicorn decided to wait for a private escort trip, and that eventually put Cerea in the gatehouse alone because mass was a factor in teleportation: the pony who’d been taking her back and forth didn’t want to factor one small pegasus into the transport. Distance also mattered in magic, and so the extra warmth faded as she moved into the palace, clearing the receiving room (inside the palace, on the main level, and so it was also designed to be flooded with fast-hardening foam at the touch of a hoof) for the next passage. The girl found herself shivering upon marble, while not being entirely sure why. Adrenaline dump: that was always a possibility. Energy with nowhere to go, because her body wasn’t entirely sure the fight was over. But she knew the adrenaline was fading, because the rest of the pain was coming back. It seemed to have used its brief time off to go look for some rather cooperative reinforcements. Just... get to the barracks. She hated going to sleep when she was still dirty, but she was tired and battered, alone in the corridor and there was a chance that the exhaustion from the fight would finally be enough to let her truly rest. The aches couldn’t possibly keep her awake throughout the entire night. Five hours out of seven, maximum. After that, she could go back into the forge -- There was a flash of light behind her tail, along with a sound: one she’d come to associate with teleports. Cerea’s main question was why it wasn’t louder. There seemed to be some degree of air displacement from arrivals -- but the departures she’d witnessed didn’t have atmosphere loudly collapsing into the sudden vacuum. She wasn’t sure if there was any degree of exchange on both sides of the process, especially since teleportation over anything more than a few meters required measurable time to complete: that suggested reaching ahead to the destination point for air would require the same duration. Magic was strange... ...she heard two ponies emerge from the gatehouse, just before the next flash signaled the escort’s departure. The unicorn immediately went left. The little pegasus trotted up on Cerea’s right. “We’ll stop at a kitchen before we head down,” the true knight said. “I’ll go in. It’ll be faster if I place the order and tell them it’s for delivery. Then it’s straight to the bath.” Her wings began to shift again. “I want to warm you up before the Doctors Bear see you. If it's bad enough that they should.” “I’m not hurt --“ was the automatic protest. “-- liar,” emerged as a prepared counter. Cerea stared down. Looking directly into furious silver which had found a new way to spark. “You’re always hurt,” the little knight said. “I don’t think I’ve seen you on a single night when you’re not hurting one way or another. Paradigm’s heading for her locker room: she’s going off-shift. I’ve got hours before I can take a bunk, even when my whole body wants to lie down because I just redirected lightning --“ Nearly frantic, “-- I’m sorry, if I hadn’t hit him with the sphere, he -- I’m sorry --“ And with utter placidity, “-- stop it.” There were multiple scents in the marble corridor. Some of that was fading trails: temporal remnants of prior pony passage. Lingering ozone had arrived with the little knight. Sweat could be detected, along with a deep weariness: those aspects were dual across the hosted species. But there was something else rising from the little knight's fur. Frustration, and a different level of anger. “Please,” the pegasus quietly asked. “I know it’s hard for you to stop. I’m not sure it’s possible to do forever. But... stop, just for a little while.” It was the go-to sentence. “I don’t understand...” “The fight’s over,” the mare softly stated. “You aren’t going after us any more. But you’re a recruit, while I’m a Guard. One who's going to spend the rest of her shift with you. Here and now, until we reach the barracks, that makes me your superior officer. And if the only way you’ll take this seriously is as an order --“ feathers vibrated “-- then maybe that’s how you should hear it. But I’m not the Sergeant. So please, just for a little while... please stop attacking yourself.” I don’t... ...she didn’t understand. “Follow me,” Nightwatch said, and after a little while, the living six-limbed iceberg of confusion wavered enough for the girl’s hooves to move again. Armor was being piled up at the edge of the giant tub. Cerea had never seen a pony removing armor before, and it turned out to be a much less complicated procedure than she’d pictured. It was mostly a matter of some very careful mouth work, disengaging latches which had been virtually invisible until the moment of their use. (She wanted to ask Barding about how that was done.) After that, the little mare’s body started working through a rather exacting shake, and sections simply began to slip off. Removing the protection was easy. When it came to earth ponies and pegasi, Cerea still didn’t know how any of it went on... It was her first chance to examine the individual pieces, and her attention arguably should have been focused on that. But she couldn’t make herself see the armor as components and metalwork artistry. Her distant perspective (or as distant as the bathroom would let it be, with her tail framed in the doorway and slightly-vibrating hindquarters getting ready to demonstrate another backwards rush) was examining the condition. There were no signs of electrical damage, at least when it came to the metal. But the saddlebags were covered in thin dark lines, she could smell the burn... A blackened sphere slowly rolled out of the open one, and two sets of eyes briefly watched it skitter across the floor. “I’ll get that,” Nightwatch softly said: a forehoof carefully guided it back to the fabric. “There were three, if you were wondering. I didn’t use the others because... you were doing too good a job at keeping me back, after that first one. And you were too close to the others. It’s horrible for you, but... it’s not all that great for us.” Her head came up a little. “It’s horrible for you,” she quietly repeated. “I didn’t think it was going to be that bad. I... didn’t know. Just that if you could scent emotion so easily, then scent could be a weapon...” “You’re angry.” It was a plain statement, and a true one. The bath was empty, there was no steam in the air, and the little knight’s wings were momentarily still. Nightwatch nodded. “I’ve been mad at myself for a while,” the mare evenly declared. Her hips shifted, and the last piece of armor dropped away. It let Cerea examine all of the fur, and it also made her wish the pegasus was any hue other than that nearly-pure black: picking out scorch marks was just about impossible. But nothing about the mare’s posture suggested pain. There was just a deep weariness, something which was all the more visible now that she was -- -- Cerea blinked. “You’re naked!” The best way to learn a scent’s emotional connotation was through getting the chance to match it with body posture and actions. Nightwatch’s slow head tilt to the left, followed by the gradual survey of her own exposed form and eventual casual regard of Cerea, gave the girl the olfactory context for bemusement. “...huh,” the mare noted. “Look at that. Naked. Just like nearly everypony else.” “I didn’t mean --“ “-- I know how you meant it,” the little knight cut in. “You’ve never seen me this way. Even in the bunk, there’s blankets. But being dressed all the time... there aren’t a lot of ponies who do that. Most of the ones who won’t ever let Sun touch their fur are clothists. And they’re weird.” She paused. “We’ve got something in common. Us, I mean. You and I. We’re... just about always covered when there’s someone else around. That can be a different kind of armor...” Feathers rustled. “But nopony can wear armor all the time,” she quietly observed. “No one, either. You should get undressed.” Cerea did the natural thing -- “-- get your hooves back in here,” Nightwatch calmly said. “All of them. Please.” The girl swallowed. Advanced about half a step. “I thought you were going first. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt --” “You need to warm up,” the pegasus stated. “To the core. And I need to see how badly you're hurt, and make sure you stay in long enough. So we’re going in together. There’s more than enough room. And... I’ve seen it before. All of it. Now I want to see it again.” This gulp mostly brought down air. “You want -- to see --“ “-- the good thing about your not having fur in some places,” placidly broke through, “is that it’s easier to spot injuries on bare skin. And I know how to adjust for the parts with fur, because that’s a lifetime of experience. Please get undressed, because I want to see how hurt you really are. If we need to finish the bath by going to the doctors. And when it comes to how you look...” It was a small sigh, and so barely managed to contain all of the subtle power within. “...you’re a centaur. I’m a pegasus. I don’t know where I’m not supposed to look, and that means even if I’m not used to seeing it, or don’t understand what I'm seeing -- for looking, everything is... okay.” And before Cerea could react, “I don't even know if you think there's a place you’re not supposed to be looking on me.” She was exhausted. In pain, along with several kinds of non-fatal shock. The word slipped out. “Genitals.” Nightwatch blinked. “...sorry?” The centaur’s arms shot up at the speed of horror, and both hands interlocked in front of her mouth. The little knight took a breath. “We don’t know about each other,” she quietly said. “We don’t understand each other. The only way that starts to change is by asking questions, and that has to be followed by answering them. So... I think we need to say all of it. Even the embarrassing things. It's the only way we can learn.” With a peacefulness which scent told the girl had been forced, “Genitals?” There was no verbal response. The red tide suffusing the girl's features served as another kind of answer. “I’ve met minotaurs,” Nightwatch admitted. “And trained against them. I don’t know any single one very well. But I do know that arms have weight. You can’t hold that position forever.” Slowly, the fingers pried themselves apart. “It’s...” The girl swallowed again. “It’s rude to stare at someone’s genitals. But I’ve... I’ve never seen any, not on a pony here. It’s -- obvious on horses where I come from.” And just for a moment, wondered how ‘horses’ had been rendered by the disc. “So I thought you all had to have some kind of trick valve, or... the stallions... some sort of... sleeve...” Nightwatch giggled. The girl had been expecting outrage. The giggle nearly sent all four legs out from under her, and ears helplessly twisted against the bubbly caress of the last possible sound. “It’s sort of a galloping joke for the new parents in the Guard,” the pegasus said. “How if you’re changing a diaper, you get one second of warning for the next barrage. The second it peeks out. It’s... all there, mares and stallions. It just doesn’t show itself unless it’s about to be used.” With a thoughtful pause, “Or unless it’s puberty. Sometimes there’s problems with control during puberty. When you see an adolescent in this weird crouch-trot, try not to laugh. Everypony’s gone through it. And you can kick males in just the right place, even if it’s hard to line up the shot, because that -- ‘sleeve’ -- really doesn’t work as armor. Distention/erection/boner, not bone.” Another giggle, even as Cerea stared out from the heart of ever-increasing shock. A second level of locally-unreadable expression, viewed by a human, would have suggested someone who was trying to figure out how diapers were changed by mouth and really wanted to stop. “We learn how to fight each other,” Nightwatch said, “Guards know how to be fought. Get undressed? I’ll fill the bath.” The curve of the pool’s rim had Cerea marginally closer to the controls: the automatic movement brought her closer still. “I’ll get it --“ “-- do you ever stop?” It had been a casual question, and only scent carried the pain. “Do you let anyone do anything for you?” the mare asked. “Is it control? You have to be the one who does it, or it won’t be done right?” I... In terms of tone, the next question was even calmer. “Is that what it looks like when you’re angry?” ...no. I’m not -- -- she didn’t see, she wasn't there, she doesn’t know what the household was like, how all of the girls -- just having Papi and Suu around when they act like they’re younger than they really are almost constantly, and Miia can never remember how much her tail constricts, and Rachnera, just... Rachnera... Someone had to try and take control. Someone had to be the adult, just so there would be one. “When your hands clench, and your whole body goes tight? Because with us, the tail lashing would be enough to give it away.” I’m not my mother. “...I...” She tried to breathe. It took three attempts. “Or do you feel like you’re so much of a problem, that anything you let somepony do for you is just another problem you've caused?" The little mare sighed. “I feel like it's that last one. Please... please calm down. Bruises hurt more when you’re tense. But we have to ask questions, both of us. Including the ones which upset each other, because those could be the most important.” Silence, but for the swishing from the slowing movement of a blonde tail. “We have to talk. It's the only way --” “...I’ve...” She barely felt the first tear running down her face, and then it only registered as shame. “...since my arrival, I have done nothing except make things worse for everypony. I -- may have caused deaths. The Princesses keep telling me there were no suicides, but they would lie to me, would they not? The world is so afraid of me that parts of it think death is better than having to exist in the same nation I occupy --“ her shoulders twisted inwards, even as her hands began to shake “-- and the other nations watch through those they send out for training, watch in case a centaur means the need to attack, while ponies wait for me to attack and something happened to you, I know that, something happened which meant you had to come into the barracks, I do not know how you were attacked, but I know that you were, ponies are being hurt in every moment I exist here, ponies die --“ Perhaps the technique could only manage very small amounts of water, when that liquid wasn’t permeating the air as humidity or soaked into cloth. But there was a black-furred face hovering a short distance from her own, and the warm gusts created by flapping wings wafted across the girl’s dry features. "Your speech goes formal when you're upset," Nightwatch softly observed. "It's... weird to hear, because it's the reverse of what I'm used to..." The girl's shoulders and upper torso shook. Hooves awkwardly cantered in place. “There were two suicide attempts after the press conference.” The words had been assembled from half-fractured glass. “Neither succeeded. The Princesses had the entire city monitored that night, and Guards were part of that. It was enough. And since then, they’ve been watching. Because ponies commit suicide sometimes, for reasons which aren’t you -- and they think the Tattler will try to blame everything on you. I think you'll try to blame everything on yourself. And I know it hurt you to hear that --“ wingbeats briefly faltered “-- but I think it would hurt more not to hear it. To think we were all lying to protect you, wondering what the truth is -- not knowing is agony.” More tears, with both eyes freely flowing as the blonde head trembled, fought against turning away. More evaporations. “And something happened to me,” the little mare softly confessed. “But -- I don’t want to tell you until tomorrow. Because you’ll blame yourself, when you shouldn’t. You don’t control how ponies react. What they do. You can’t. You're who you are, not what they believe. They just don't know you. Some have fear. Some of them are just looking for more things to be afraid of, and they lie to themselves to find extra reasons because the fear is easier than anything else. And one pony...” The hover leveled. Wingbeats steadied. “...is right here. Right here, Cerea. Please...” The trembling slowed. Not by much. Just enough to see. “Um.” Feathers vibrated. “This is -- kind of awkward. And I’m leaving salt on your face. I --“ “...may...” The little knight waited. “...may I touch you? Please? Just... not with my hands, just...” Fingers twisted, and the blonde tail twitched. “I just... I haven’t... it's shameful, you shouldn't have to go through this with me, but I... I haven't, and I...” Two deep, half-shuddering breaths shifted black fur. “I --“ and that was where the mare's words briefly paused. The girl’s eyes closed. “-- need to land first,” Nightwatch finished. “It’s safer.” The pegasus dipped, carefully touched down. “Um. You want to -- touch my fur? A wing? It helps if I --“ The centaur silently gestured, and it took the pony a second to reconcile the movement as an attempt to indicate direction. Hands were good for that. “-- over there? Okay...” She carefully trotted over to the pool’s rim, stopping where the fingers had seemed to be sending her: next to one of the deepest portions. “So where did you want to --“ The girl, producing no more sound than what came from her hooves, slowly trotted around the perimeter, down the uneven surface of the ramp, entering the empty pool. Came up to the pegasus, and the sunken floor left them on something very close to eye level. “-- this is weird,” Nightwatch admitted. “Um. Seeing your face without flying or tilting my head. That’s what I meant. What did you want to --“ The girl leaned forward. The pegasus tensed. Almost recoiled, nearly broke for the door -- but ultimately, she remained exactly where she was. After a while, a wing awkwardly unfolded, curled as best it could until the wingtip just barely touched the back of the centaur’s head. The centaur shuddered, and the pegasus held her ground. She had recognized the nature of that vibration. It was what came from dropping the smallest part of the burden, if only for a little while. The tremble of release. Neither moved beyond that, not for several minutes. Not until the girl had finished crying into the mare’s fur. "...I'm sorry." Gently, "Why?" Padded shoulders curved inwards. "It's shameful. To... show emotion like that. It's a weakness. And making someone else deal with any of it..." "Who told you that?" Silence. "It doesn't matter," Nightwatch sighed. "Um. No, it does. But I don't think it's someone I can reach. Or kick. Will you get undressed? Please?" Eventually, the girl nodded. Most of the process took place in silence. "Um..." Cerea reluctantly glanced over, and saw the little highlights of red under black fur. "...how do you cover... um... your geni --" Hastily, "Skirt. Or tail. Mostly skirts." The pegasus blinked. "Oh." The centaur just barely managed a single, horribly awkward nod. Numb fingers slipped off the first bra strap. "You should probably keep wearing one. Um. In public. Um..." The color contrast now invoked charcoal embers. "The worst questions... things where it won't ever be any worse than this..." Wings shivered. "...what's your menstrual cycle? And do you need anything to help with it?" Almost immediately, "I shouldn't have asked that. I shouldn't. Sun and Moon, it's like I just made you change color --" "-- twenty-eight days. Year-round. There's no..." The centaur hesitated and somehow, the words found a way to become even more awkward. "I don't know how this is going to translate. Heat? Estrus? In the -- sexual sense -- oh. It came across. So not from that. Some humans think we do. There's jokes. And -- trying to find out if we're in estrus. Thinking we'll just --" and stopped. The pegasus managed a nod. "So you've had at least one already," just barely made its way into the world. "But you didn't ask for anything. Um. I know you don't ask for much of anything anyway, and that's a problem. But with that -- do you... um... have any trouble staying... um... clean?" "Sometimes there's a little blood, but that's from the egg's release," the girl sighed. "We reabsorb the uterine lining. So I just... covered myself. One extra layer. With whatever I could find." A little more softly, "I didn't know how different it was for humans and the others until I became a student. Especially humans." She slowly shook her head. "They're obsessed with panties." Black ears twisted. "Lingerie," the pegasus eventually said. "For -- there. Um. That's what I got. Really?" "That's what their comics and light novels say. The bad ones." With what she felt to be the natural distaste of a France native who was still trying to reconcile the casual perversions of manga, "Which is almost all of them. Did you understand 'comics'?" More aural rotation. "Graphic novels? We have those." "Oh..." The bra came off. The females looked at each for a while, and did so without judgment. "Do you have a year-round cycle?" the centaur forced out. "Or is it --" "-- twenty-two days. Um. For me. There's a little bit of range. No estrus. For everypony. Some species go through it. Kudus do. The fighting among the males gets nasty when their females are in season. But we've just got the one family in Canterlot. Which has an adolescent male. So he tests his horns on other things. Like wrought-iron fences." Even for this conversation, the next part came across as an exceptionally awkward pause. "Crossing Guard's had to get him untangled a few times. He's starting to wonder if the kid's doing it on purpose." "Twenty-two days," the girl made herself repeat. Nightwatch nodded. A major percentage of the centaur's upper body went scarlet. "...how does that work with the valve?" The pegasus told her. "...oh." After a while, they both agreed it could never be any worse than that. They were both in the filled pool. The blush was still easier to pick out on the centaur. “This is sort of normal, you know,” Nightwatch declared. Her path had currently brought her to what Cerea perceived as the shallows, mostly to give her legs a moment of rest. The water had allowed them to do some talking just about face to face -- but for the pegasus, that meant a lot of paddling. “Bathing in groups. Canterlot has bathhouses. Sometimes it’s just easier to wash each other.” “Japan has bathhouses,” Cerea told the little knight. “But the big ones are tourist attractions. Natural hot springs with inns built around them.” “Really?” Genuine curiosity. “We have some of those in Eastern --“ the translator hiss went on for a while, and couldn’t possibly have meant to land on “-- Saddlezania. But they’re expensive. Did you go to one of yours?” “With the others. And our host, because he always had to come if we were going to go anywhere at all. That was one of the laws.” “What was it like?” Cerea thought about it. A few extra seconds allowed the twin filters of distance and perspective to finally slot into place. “It was mostly about girls trying to show themselves off to him. And using the springs as an excuse for it.” She sunk a little lower in the water: the portions which had once been vaguely intended for hot springs display took on a little more buoyancy. “It was... embarrassing. That we were all doing it. And... it was hard to tell who he was really paying attention to, so I don't think anyone even figured out if it was working.” I hardly ever had him to myself, with all the girls in the household. Then there were more girls at the hot springs, and the snow woman, and... It didn't matter. Curiously, “Was it a group date? It didn’t feel like you had those.” Eight minutes passed in explanation, until they heard hooves on the other side of the closed door. “That’s the food delivery,” Nightwatch said. “I told them to send enough for a bad day and leave it outside. Um. That might mean a few more deliveries. But we’ll eat together once we get out --“ “You were angry,” Cerea said, because it felt as if it was finally time for that and it was better than talking about the hot springs any more. “Before the fight.” “I’ve been angry with myself for a while,” the pegasus confessed. “There were... a lot of reasons for it. But the center was fear. A lot of things come down to fear, and what you do with it. If you give in, or fight it, or -- let go. I thought...” The mare began to swim again. Pushing towards the centaur. “...it would be easier to just leave. To let somepony else teach you. Be near you...” “It would be easier,” the centaur quietly observed. “Hating myself is always easier,” the mare agreed. Swirling steam condensed. Water soaked into ancient sponge. It was possible to hear the pain. “Why didn’t you leave?” And then it was easy to pick up its echo. “Princess Luna... she said something to me, and -- I spent a lot of time thinking about it. She sort of said -- well, it’s not what she said, but I think it’s part of what she meant. I’ve got... Um. I guess it’s sort of a tendency.” The mare winced a little. “Or a habit, now that I’ve done it twice. I see something that’s big, powerful, and -- hurting... and I decide that’s what has to be sheltered. Protected. When a lot of ponies wouldn't.” The pegasus sighed. Ears twisted, and water dripped from the fur. “I still feel like I was right both times,” she reluctantly added. “For whatever that’s worth. But if I abandoned one, then maybe that meant I would fly away from the other if things got rough. I don’t want that to be me. A Guard who... abandons somepony.” Hesitated. “Someone.” They were both quiet for a while. “Jealousy would have been a better reason to leave,” Nightwatch said. Cerea’s tail tried to slash: water resistance turned the results into a slow ripple of hair. “Jealous?” It wasn’t disbelief, because invoking the syllables of 'belief' implied that something other than fact could be at the core. “How could you --“ It was, at most, half a tease. “-- it feels like you've dated more in the last year than I’ve been out with anypony in the last four.” A now somewhat sulky centaur sank a little lower in the steaming water. “...I think your future prospects are better.” Gently, “Even if we get you home?” Silence. it was, as encouragement went, slightly too open. “You had someone interested in you before --“‘ “-- are you pretty?” The pegasus blinked. “I don’t know,” Cerea quietly said. “I don’t know what ponies look for in each other. I know you’re healthy. But I don’t know what’s considered attractive.” It made the mare put in some visible thought. “Um,” she eventually said. “I’m not the most beautiful pegasus in the Guard. If we had a calendar, then Glimmerglow would be the Summer Sun Celebration and a couple of moons on either side. And night colors weren’t always in fashion anyway. But I don’t have much trouble attracting somepony. Not on looks. It’s getting them to stay that’s the problem.” “Why?” The explanation took less than three minutes. “...oh.” “That’s how it is, when you’re a Lunar and a Guard,” Nightwatch sighed. “And... I kind of got a reminder that I don’t want to switch shifts. Not just to look for that. Are you pretty?” “...um,” the girl eventually echoed. “I really can’t tell,” the mare admitted. “Health is easier. But most of what that says is that you may not need the doctors tonight, but you really need some time off. At least two days. Or you’ll be seeing the doctors over and over --“ “...I... have an...” Another swallow. “...unusual body. For a human --“ “-- because you have four legs, when they have two?” The nausea was briefly visible. “And feet...” More quickly, “Even with the parts which match. I -- before I went to Japan, I looked at some of their magazines, trying to figure out what they liked. I’m not... and he was into legs...“ “-- what about for a centaur?” “It doesn’t matter.” A little too strongly, “When I’m among humans, when it’s their nation, then it's about what they like. What they see. Centaur stallions just want -- they want." Decibels were rising. "That's all it is. Want. They want, and they don't care what anyone else wants --" Which was when she saw just how fast Nightwatch was breathing. The next words pained the mare: it was possible to both see and scent it. But Cerea recognized them as necessary, and almost felt that the question only could have come from a... "Did something happen?" "...no." The laugh was bitter. "They've been -- trained, sort of. To wait for the right time." Don't think about it. "And you carry something dense and heavy," she added. "Because they're all stupid, but you don't want to give any of them the chance to be really dumb." The pegasus paddled in place for a while. "Cerea?" The centaur waited. "Are your males even... sapient?" Don't make me think about it... But it felt as if some things could never be asked, simply because the pegasus wouldn't understand that the question could even exist. "Technically," the girl admitted. "It's just that they mostly think about fighting. And drinking. And everything they think they can get after they've had a few drinks and the weaker ones are out of the fight. That's where the weighted baton comes in. Did 'baton' --" The next question, however, was completely natural. "-- is that why you became an exchange student?" It took a few seconds. "One of the reasons. I... never felt any attraction, for any of them. I didn't understand why. I wasn't comfortable in my own herd. But I'd spent my whole life in the gap --" almost "-- and I wanted to know what it felt like to be somewhere else. Anywhere. I... think a lot of liminals joined the program just for that. Papi did. But I didn't feel like I was going out to look for a human, or anything else. Not for romance. Centaurs are -- supposed to serve. But not as inferiors. All the old stories said we were meant to be a partner species. Instructors and guardians. No centaur had the chance to do that for centuries. At first, I told myself that I wanted to find someone I could be with as a partner. The... rest came later." The search, every day and every night. For someone I could respect. The chase, with him on my back and no idea where he was supposed to grab. Trying to catch something with an engine. He took the impact for me... But the filters were still in place. "Or I was looking for both," she softly admitted. "And I just didn't tell myself. The first human in Japan to show me any real kindness, and a capacity for sacrifice... I thought..." "You thought it could turn into love." Almost a whisper, "Or that it had to be love, just because... it hadn't happened before." Blonde strands floated on the water. The girl breathed, and did very little else as her eyes closed again. Lids weighed down with humiliation. "Kindness can feel like love sometimes," Nightwatch said. "But it's just a step into friendship. Which is its own sort of love. Just not... the other type." The little mare sighed, swam a little closer: something which registered as warm ripples and little splashes. "The buffalo have a saying: 'Love is friendship that catches fire.' I think there's something to that. But just being friends can be enough." "Nightwatch?" The pegasus stopped about a meter away. Blocked by the wall of the girl's rising fear. The centaur wouldn't look at her. Didn't look at anything, and the strange neck turned so that closed eyes wouldn't have to perceive so much as a single backlit shadow. "...are we friends?" A few stray drops fell from the pool's inlets. "Um," the pegasus said. Shaking hands came out of the water. Moved to cover closed, averted eyes -- "-- I don't know how to nuzzle you." The girl froze. It barely rose to the level of whisper, and only the acoustics of the bathroom allowed it to be heard at all. "...what?" "Um. There's a nuzzle. For friends. There's another one for family, and there's one for when you love somepony. But there's a friendship nuzzle. And. Um. You don't have a snout. Just about everything has a snout, and you don't. Even beaks project enough to work with, and griffons have their own way of showing when they're friends with a pony. Which happens, especially in Protocera, because there's so many ponies there. Who mostly think like griffons. Um. So I don't know how to nuzzle you. Or where. The only parts of you which stick out are... um. I don't... I guess I could nuzzle you there. But I don't think they nuzzle back... um. They're -- moving. Heaving? Everything is heaving. Um. Are you okay? Does having your lips pressed together like that mean pain --" A centaur couldn't really double over: the jointing didn't allow it. But arms still slammed across the upper waist, that torso leaned forward, and then the sound burst forth, bounced within the confines of the bathroom and back to ears which were set to the sides and ears which were placed atop the skull, echoed over and over again as the helpless noise just kept coming because it had been over a month or a moon in this strange world, it didn't matter because she never did this in public, so few things ever felt like they could inspire it, and being so open could be considered as shameful... But her mother wasn't there and for an endless minute, neither was that shadow. The pegasus froze. Listened and watched, until it was over. "Is that what it sounds like when you laugh because you're happy?" A few last gasps. "I think so." (She thought it was right. But she couldn't be sure. It hadn't happened in a long time.) (Not since the first moment of freedom.) (Not until the last hours before she might have destroyed everything.) "Oh. Um. ...good...?" "Nightwatch?" The pegasus looked up at her, and the girl saw that because her eyes had opened again. "I..." I want to hug you. It felt like she almost wanted that as much as she'd ever wanted anything. But it also felt like too much, too fast. The girl loved to hug and be hugged, and... it was potentially asking the pegasus to be pulled against her breasts. Something the mare had no experience with. And she didn't know how she was supposed to be hugged back. Forelegs draped over shoulders felt like the only real option, and that would be an awkward position for the other to assume (much less hold), especially in the water. Plus that meant pressure against another part of the pony's anatomy, still from the same source... "I'm -- going to come a little closer. And touch you. With my face. If that's okay." "Um," the mare considered. "All... all right... Are you sad again --" Cerea dropped as low as she could within the water: she needed to be just about level with the mare, so that her breasts wouldn't shift into the pegasus during the lean. Crossed the distance in a way that let her approach from the left, found an aching, very temporary way of getting lower still, and gently kissed the little knight's forehead. "Um," Nightwatch repeated. The centaur pulled back. Reoriented, and waited. "That felt... weird." "I'm sorry --" "-- I didn't say it was bad. Just... weird." "...oh." "I'll figure out a nuzzle," Nightwatch decided. "It just might take a while. Um. I think we're friends. You... don't go through all of it and stay near someone unless you're friends. It's just that... it has to be about how we see it. Because other ponies are going to be scared, or upset, or... worse. And we have to show them that we're not any of it. With each other." "You don't smell scared..." "You're not scary. Um. Is that a bad thing for centaurs? You're crying again --" "-- do ponies cry when they're happy?" "...sometimes. Is that --" The girl nodded. "We're very different," the pegasus said. Wings flared, curled back in. "But I think most of that is shape." Eventually, all of the best baths reached the point where it felt as if the water was holding you in place. "I didn't mean to hit Squall with the drydust. I --" Cerea winced "-- got the wrong bag. Is it dangerous, getting hit by it? And that's why he reacted that way?" "More dangerous than whiffwings, if you don't get the glide fast enough?" The pegasus idly floated. "It's not comfortable to breathe. It isn't poisonous, but there's enough moisture in your nose, mouth, and lungs that you're going to be coughing and sneezing up little bits of gel for a while, until it goes inert again. If you had a drink of water and swallowed some drydust right after -- that's when you need a doctor. But with Squall... Um. This is... he sort of wound up facing Tirek by himself. For a few seconds. I think he volunteered because he wanted to prove he could stand up to a centaur. But he was scared the whole time, and when you managed to hit him... I think that brought it all back." "I'm sorry --" "-- you don't control how others react. You shouldn't." Nightwatch sighed. "You faced a griffon. Magic which makes someone think or feel differently, if you didn't agree to it, is a weapon. And sometimes it's a crime. It's not magic anypony should want to have. Not good ponies. The spells exist, but... most of the best unicorns don't learn them. And they try not to use them unless they have to." The sodden black tail twitched. "The Sergeant may still be yelling at Squall. But in a good way. Like what Princess Luna does. It makes you yell at yourself." And then the entire sleek body twitched. With immediate concern, "Nightwatch?" The horror, however, had been on time delay. The mare's forelegs made up for it through trying to go over the head exactly on schedule. "I yelled at the Sergeant..." "My shoulders hurt." "Um. Which ones --" "-- oh. Upper. 'Foreshoulders' for the lower." "You're not bruised there." "I think it's muscle pulls from the forge." "You're working too much." "I... work so I won't think." "Does that happen?" "No." And even with the best baths, you had to get out sometime. The dry centaur put on a nightgown. It was silky (although she wasn't sure it was silk) and showed cleavage, because Ms. Garter. Plus there were gaps over her hips, and Nightwatch finally explained the reason why: to show off a mark which Cerea didn't have. They both ate, although Nightwatch had to keep nosing food towards Cerea: the girl was hungry enough, but exhaustion was claiming a false priority. It took multiple reminders that things would be that much worse in the morning without another two servings of carrots to keep the centaur chewing. By the time they finished, she was almost too sleepy to swallow. It took her two attempts to get up from the impromptu serving area near the bathroom door, and Nightwatch had to keep her staggering in the right direction with a series of head nudges. The altitude involved tended to vary, as there was rather a lot to nudge. "Can you sleep on your side?" "...yes," the centaur yawned. "It's just... really uncomfortable to get up again. There's a lot of twisting." And because she was at the level of exhaustion which both allowed that kind of openly-expressed thought and prevented any memory of the words from returning until the worst possible moment, "It's funny." "What is?" "I spent all that time thinking about how to have sex with him --" "Um." She was also too tired to pick up on that. "-- and nothing about the after. I knew sex was possible, because --" and she wasn't that tired "-- it just is. But what was supposed to happen when we finished? I'm too big..." The rest was temporarily put on hold by another yawn. "...for his bed. That's just sleeping normally. On my side would be worse. And I'm probably too heavy for the mattress frame. What was he going to do? Come down to the mat with me? How do you cuddle, when one of you is vertical and the other's lying down? I didn't... I didn't think..." There was just enough strength left for the sigh. "...that he would have been cuddling with a horse." "Um." "I mostly think about the wrong things," Cerea's exhaustion decided. "All the time." "Think about sleep," the little knight said. "Think about sleeping in. As much sleep as you need. And then at least two days off." They reached the little pool of blankets. The larger body carefully lowered itself. "I knew it was going to be more than one Guard. Just not... so many. All at once. I thought... three..." "Three and you would have won." Which was where words stopped for a moment, because her teeth were busy pulling a blanket over the broad lower back. Automatically, "I lost..." The pegasus had to wait until she touched down on the other side, and hated the delay. "You won." "I..." "It's about how you lose," the little knight said. "You lost in the way that wins." The words sank into oddly-placed ears. It would be some time before they were needed. "Sleep," Nightwatch told her. "Just get some sleep." The girl's eyes closed for the last time on that night. Arms automatically shifted, folded and locked under the breasts. The pegasus watched as breathing slowed. It didn't take all that long before the eyes began to shift behind the lids, because the girl dreamed more than ponies did. Only a few more seconds until the trembling began, with the tail desperately lashing as a foreleg tried to kick -- -- there was nothing in her which could have known, not on the conscious level. But deep in dream, she felt the smaller body curl up next to her right flank. Pressing against her own, within waking world and nightscape alike. The movements stopped. And doubly guarded, the girl finally slept.