//------------------------------//
// 18. Dinner With the Hiveless 
// Story: Out of Love 
// by Carapace 
//------------------------------//

Heart’s Haven wasn’t just a high-end condominium in Manehattan. It was the high-end condominium in the city.

That much had been made clear when Enticier, of all changelings, gave a hum of approval, like he’d been appraising it while they walked across the street. “Not bad,” he mused aloud, his eyes lingering on the lettering. “I think I might’ve chosen a nice blue, though, to offset the color of the building instead of that red.”

Aspire gazed up at the signage and then the matching overhang leading up to the front door, where a young stallion clothed in a green suit and cap stood. He wrinkled his snout, turning to face his old friend as they walked. “Why would you say that? It kinda reminds me of … love and familiar surroundings, y’know?” he said, thinking of his nice, cozy bedpod and furniture back home, and the chance to have his beautiful, delicious girlfriend recline with him while he fed upon her affection.

The Prince of Enchanters tensed. His eyes flitted to Aspire, then Sure Stroke for a bare moment. “The same, actually,” Enticier replied softly. “I was thinking along similar lines.”

Oh. Aspire felt a lump of ice drop into the pit of his stomach.

“The lake you told me about?” Sure Stroke asked. “Crystal Lake, right?”

A wan smile made its way across the Prince of Enchanters’s features. “Yes,” he muttered. “Just like the waters of Crystal Lake.”

Aspire tried to ignore the pang in his chest, licking his dried lips as he silently followed along the walkway leading up to the main entrance. Again, he found need to curse his younger self. Such a thoughtless, needlessly cruel nymph he’d been. Toward some foe or to earn some token for the hive, yes, he’d pull such a trick time and time again without any care for their feelings. But against his own friend? 

What sort of changeling did that?

Me.

“There you foals are!” the bellhop greeted with a relieved smile. “We were getting worried we’d have to send somepony down to the arcade for you lot!”

Redwood waggled his ears. “We were all huddled up with Mister Prize, like he always has us do during storms. There was no need to worry, Tip Top.”

“You say that, but you’re not the one listening to Brass Ring panic about the owner’s youngest foal going missing for three hours.”

“Oof!” The disguised nymph and his cohorts winced. “Sorry about that, but you know we’re supposed to stay put when the weather team sends those big warnings out.”

Tip Top shrugged and replied, “Oh, I’m not arguing, I’m just telling you things were in a tizzy while we waited for you four to come home.” Then, he noticed the adults.

Aspire felt it only fitting that he pantomime tipping a hat in greeting. “Hi, there.”

“H-Hi,” Tip Top replied, nonplussed. “Are you three looking to rent, or  …”

Only a slight rustling of feathers and shift of air warned Aspire of the impending reunion of his beloved Sure Stroke’s wing with the back of his head. “Hey!” he cried, ducking and covering himself from another blow.

“Don’t mind his silliness, sometimes it’s like I’m dealing with an overgrown puppy,” Sure Stroke said sweetly, the look in her eyes daring him to object. “We’re here with these colts. Redwood here seems to be a relative of my friend, Enticier—”

“I’m him!” Enticier chimed with a jaunty wave.

“—On his father’s side, so he invited us to dinner with his family,” she finished without missing a beat. Then, with a sheepish smile, she pressed against Aspire’s side and added, “Not that looking for a condo wouldn’t be nice, but I think one of these might be a little out of our price range right now.”

“You’d be surprised,” Redwood and Tip Top quipped in unison. The pair shared a look and a laugh at the little slip.

Redwood turned to face Sure Stroke with a smile. “The rates here probably aren’t as bad as you’re thinking. Dad keeps them low, just like grandpa used to.”

Blinking, Aspire wrinkled his snout. “Wait a minute.”

“Your dad and grandpa keep the rates low?” Enticier took up, eying him a moment.

“Uh, yeah?” Redwood’s lips twitched into a disbelieving smile. “Didn’t you hear Grand Prize?” he asked. “My dad’s building—my family’s building.”

It clicked. Aspire looked all the way up the side of Heart’s Haven, then back down at the disguised little nymph fixing him with a stare as though he wondered if his senior changeling might need a doctor.

“Your family owns this place?” 

Redwood nodded slowly. “And a bunch of others as well.”

“Reddy’s kinda filthy rich!” Penny chipped in with a giggle and waggle of his ears. “Filthy, stinking rich, and he and his parents spoil us and all his friends rotten!”

“Quiet, you,” Redwood retorted with a fond smile. 

“But I haven’t even started on the shows they do!”

“Or how much ponies rave about this place,” another added.

The fourth grinned and mused, “And how many talk about this and all your other buildings and how they hope a condo opens soon because there’s none better.”

“Swizzle! Twizzle! I said quiet!” Redwood cried, his cheeks aflame.

Aspire watched the byplay with only half his attention. His mind, on the other hoof, was spinning into gear as it tried to synthesize the information the three little colts and nymph had just crammed into it.

A family of hiveless changelings living a life of luxury. It just didn’t quite add up. 

Not that Aspire wasn’t happy to hear of changelings finding such success outside the hive, living among ponies—far from it, in fact! But … owning buildings. Performing, even. Being a constant face in the public.

In a paradoxical way, it was both the epitome of everything a changeling wanted and the opposite of what every changeling knew for generations. Being a public face, owning such splendid property, performing … it all carried the possibility to garner love.

A lot of love.

Not to mention, bits by the cartload.

Aspire shook his head. He had to see this for himself, even more so now than just a passing interest in the lives of the hiveless and invitation from a young friend.

He hooked his hoof around Sure Stroke’s ankle and gave it a little squeeze. “Well, color us impressed,” Aspire praised, throwing a smile to Enticier. “Looks like owning splendorous buildings runs in the family, eh?”

The Prince of Enchanters hummed an affirmation. He trotted past the foals and bellhop, though not without tussling little Redwood’s mane, and pushed through the turnstile doors. “I’d like to see if the interior is as opulent as reputation suggests,” he mused aloud.

He barely finished speaking before Redwood was at his side, eagerly telling him all about the furnishing awaiting within as they slipped inside.

Leaving Aspire and Sure Stroke to watch, bemused.

“Well!” Sure Stroke said with a little bob of her head. “Isn’t he just getting the royal treatment today?”

Irony. Sweet irony. 

And plenty of humor flavoring her too.

Aspire rolled his eyes and gave Sure Stroke a hip bump that drew a startled squeak as she was sent staggering a step. “Come on, you. That’s about enough of your lip.”

With a grin and fluff of her feathers, the little pegasus mare pranced right back to his side and pecked the corner of his mouth before wrapping her wing around his shoulders. Laying claim once more.

He snorted to himself. That was something to address when they were back home.

A deft little push of magic spun the turnstile doors to admit them like some sort of big wig ponies, hoof in hoof and wing upon shoulder. And what they found when they entered made Aspire’s jaw drop, Façade’s lessons on keeping face be damned.

The floors were a polished, wood brown tile pattern that glinted in the light, matched by the wood furnishings, banisters, and the receptionist’s counter situated by the far side. The ceiling was tall enough that Queen Euphoria could have taken a running leap and not scraped her horn were it not for the rose crystal chandelier hanging above the very center of the room—directly over an ornate heart emblem formed by flecks of gold within the tile. To the immediate right, a passage leading to the first floor rooms, with three elevators with shining gold doors on either side.

Aspire took a breath, and promptly went crosseyed. Love. So sweet. So many flavors of it, from familial to friendship to puppy love to lust and even pure romance! And just so full! The colts weren’t kidding! He could just stand still and feast for a week!

A little squeeze of the hoof jolted him back to reality. Aspire turned to Sure Stroke with a smile of thanks and kissed her cheek for her efforts. She giggled and bared her cheek, but still eyed him carefully as if to ask if he was going to be okay to control himself.

Such a loving, caring mare. 

Together, they trotted over to the elevators, where Enticier and Redwood’s little group awaited their arrival.

Redwood stood before Penny, Swizzle, and Twizzle in front of one of the elevators, a warm smile upon his face as he moved to give each a big hug and a nuzzle. “Thanks for coming with me, guys,” he said softly. “I had fun.”

Aspire watched closely as each colt seemed to stiffen and shiver just a bit in his embrace, their eyes fluttering as if they felt something tickling their skin. 

Or, he realized, a young nymph taking a quick nibble of love before dinner.

“N-No problem, Reddy,” Penny replied with a yawn. “Had a great time too.”

“Yeah, maybe we can go again tomorrow after your cousin and his friends leave,” Swizzle said, trying to fight off a yawn of his own. A fight he lost horribly. “Ugh! Sorry. I wasn’t feeling so tired a second ago.”

His twin, Twizzle, didn’t put up near the fight he did. He let his ears splay as he let out a great yawn, then turned to bat the up button on the elevator with a hoof, his own farewell slurred amidst a second, lengthier yawn as he stumbled into the waiting elevator.

As the others followed, Redwood waved his goodbye and waited until the double doors slid closed before he turned and fished a key out from his bit pouch. He walked up to the elevator nearest Enticier and inserted the key into the metal panel and gave it a twist, then batted the up arrow. The elevator bell chimed out a merry ring and opened to admit them.

“This elevator needs a key?” Aspire asked, raising a brow.

“It’s a private elevator,” Redwood explained. He motioned for them to enter first. “Only goes up to the penthouse, only our family and really close friends have copies. For emergencies.”

His meaning was not lost upon the adults. Enticier nodded and entered first, followed closely behind by Aspire and Sure Stroke, and then Redwood himself. The disguised nymph waited until the doors slid closed again and the elevator jolted into its slow, lazy ascent, then let out a contented sigh and closed his eyes with a deep, changeling purr.

To Aspire’s surprise, it was Sure Stroke who turned and eyed the nymph and asked, “Enjoy your snack?”  

“They’re always so delicious.” Redwood licked his lips slowly, a bright smile spread across his features. “I know I shouldn’t spoil my dinner, but sometimes I just can’t help it around my friends. They love me a lot, and I love them for both the food they provide and companionship we share. More than they know.” He opened his eyes and met her gaze, his smile unfaltering. “Your boyfriend and His Highness took a little nibble from them as well. And you and I.”

“Yes.” Sure Stroke shot the abashed changelings a look. “And if they’d have asked, I’d have been happy to feed them myself.”

Aspire winced. 

“Sorry,” Enticier murmured. “We couldn’t help ourselves.”

“Feeding rules are a bit different outside of Respite,” Aspire added, “as long as it’s passive and not invasive, is how we typically do it.”

“Same.”

With a hum, she clicked her tongue. “You never told me of that. And I don’t recall you feeding on me during our other day trips without asking.”

Her words cut deep into his chest, and the little bite of irritation tinging her sweet taste stung his tongue. Aspire ducked his head low, his ears splaying. “I’m sorry.”

“You owe me an explanation of how this works when we get home.” Those beautiful blue eyes softened, she sighed and leaned in to headbutt him gently, an affectionate little gesture. “You jerk.”

That both Enticier and Redwood showed enough discretion to allow that line of conversation end there earned a smile and nod of thanks. Aspire leaned against Sure Stroke and resigned himself to a rather uncomfortable explanation with Esalen once they got home.

Hopefully, that would be the last piece of drama for the evening.





The mood in the elevator car had improved a bit at least by the time its bell chimed out, signaling that they’d reached their destination. Sure Stroke’s wing held tight around Aspire’s shoulders and a little nuzzle to show her maintained affections despite his mistakes.

It served well to bring his smile back. Certainly, if she was still willing to hold him so and stay close, he wasn’t in as much trouble as he’d been before—definitely not like that night she’d confronted him by the lakeside.

Enticier drifted closer, relief shone in his eyes as he took stock of the pair, along, perhaps, with a wish that he might possess a Caretaker’s empathic taste to be sure things were well. “For what it’s worth,” he muttered as the doors slid open. “I did think you knew.”

Her smile faltered just slightly, Sure Stroke turned to fix him with a contemplative gaze. After a moment, she just shook her head and flicked a feather across his shoulder. “It’s not entirely your fault,” she said with a sigh. “Though I’m not pleased you both nibbled on the foals as well.”

A fair point. Aspire grimaced and thought of how his mother would scold him if she heard. It was no small wonder they’d gotten so tired after Redwood took a bit.

The little nymph, having waited in his polite, feigned obliviousness, turned to them with a smile and led them out of the elevator into the penthouse. It was right then, the very instant his hind hooves had crossed over onto the tile floor of his lavish home, Aspire nearly had a heart attack.

In a flash of arcane green flames, Redwood allowed his earth pony disguise to burn away. Where once soft, inviting brown coat, red mane, and coltish smile were, polished black carapace with holed limbs, a long red-brown mane pulled into a ponytail at the base of his head, deep brown eyes, and tiny, glinting fangs peeking out from a happy nymph’s grin.

“Everyone! I’m home!” he called, his voice breaking so slightly. The little nymph bounded forth and stopped just at the open passage, bouncing on the very tips of his hooves. “I brought some friends you’ve just got to meet! Come see! Come see!”

Natural form. 

He’d just resumed his natural form in a penthouse in the middle of Manehattan, where any pegasus could just happen to fly by at the wrong moment. And right in front of a nice, big window for them to look through. As if the little fool wasn’t blowing enough of a raspberry at fate.

Surely—surely—no changeling could be that dense.

And yet, there he was. Happy as can be, beaming like a loon while he bounced about and called for his family. 

All he was missing at that point was a spotlight.

“What in the name of Morrigan’s crown are you doing?” Enticier cried, aghast.

Redwood started and turned to fix him with a quizzical look. “Huh?”

“Change back this instant!” The Prince of Enchanters jabbed a hoof at the window. “Are you daft? If a pegasus flies by, you’ll be seen!”

“Uh … no I won’t.” The little nymph let out a merry chitter. “You’re a riot, Your Highness!”

“Now, Reddy, be nice,” a rich, cultured stallion’s voice sounded from the next room, and with it, steady hoof steps. A changeling stepped around the corner to greet them, his mane the same color as Redwood’s, yet shorter and combed back. His golden brown eyes shone with life and vitality, and just a faint hint of that familiar Enchanter allure. 

Not nearly as strong as Aspire’s own, let alone Enticier’s, but it was there. Drawing inward, like a whisper to forget everything and just look into those eyes.

“Our windows are one way, one of the very first things our family’s always has put into place when we build a new building. Our penthouses are a safe haven for us, and any hiveless changeling, should trouble arise.” Pausing to greet them with a nod, he tussled Redwood’s mane and said, “You’ll have to excuse my youngest. My nymphs have grown quite used to being able to resume natural form as long as they don’t have their friends up for a visit, so they tend to think nothing of it.”

Aspire allowed himself to breathe. One-way glass windows. Of course.

No changeling would be so dense, after all, to stand in front of a window in natural form in the midst of a pony city or town. The hiveless, least of all.

He laughed and let his weight lean against Sure Stroke. “Freaking nymphs,” he muttered. “One of these days, they’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Says the teacher.” Sure Stroke nosed against his cheek. “You okay?”

“I will be once my heart stops spazzing. Ent?”

“Working on it.” The Prince of Enchanters eyed the hiveless pair, slowly letting out a deep sigh. After a moment, he spoke up again. “I apologize for shouting in your home, sir.” 

Their host chittered and shook his head. “No need, I appreciate you trying to look out for my son.” He raised a hoof to gesture to them. “I see you two are our kind, and you’re their companion, miss? If not, I’d imagine this might be more surprising.”

“You could say that.” Sure Stroke placed a hoof upon Aspire’s chest and smiled. “This is my boyfriend, Aspire. I’m Sure Stroke.”

“Delighted to meet you. I am Redwood’s father, Lumière de L’Amour, owner and proprietor of Heart’s Haven.” Lumière turned to look into the next room and waggled his ears at someone. “Come, come, dearest! You’ll make us rude hosts, letting our son’s guests wait like this!”

A changeling mare with a flowing mane a lovely white-pink cherry blossoms stepped out to meet him just as he finished speaking and chittering laugh. Her cheeks flecked with tiny droplets of paint. 

“Then perhaps you would like to cook dinner tonight, lover!” She leaned in as though to kiss him, then turned away at the last minute to rob him of the chance, instead forcing him to kiss her paint-spattered cheek. 

“Oooh, very nice,” Aspire heard Sure Stroke praise under her breath. “I like her already.”

He turned to fix her with a stern look. “Don’t get any ideas, you.”

The innocent little smile she shot back spoke of insolence the likes of which only a Respite mare could know. And only one who’d learned it from his sister and he.

Lumière de L’Amour, to his credit, took his wife’s little play in stride. “My dear wife, Cherry Blossom,” he said. 

“Nice to meet you,” Cherry greeted with a bright smile and a discrete little flick of her tongue. The corners of her mouth twitched, she stepped away from her husband and held out a hoof to the disguised changelings. “You’re welcome to shed those disguises if you feel comfortable, cousins. As my husband said, no pony other than she will see.”

Aspire bit the inside of his cheek. Save for one or two little pranks where a lookout was involved, it went against everything, instinct and practice. There was a darn good reason such antics were so far and few between.

No changeling wanted to find out what might happen if they were caught among ponies outside their hive.

He looked to Enticier and found his thoughts met with matching unease. The Prince of Enchanters shrugged, then, in a flash of green fire, shed his disguise to reveal his true form.

For the first time in just under a year, Aspire got to see his friend face to face and see just how much he’d grown. Those orange mane of his had been cut a bit shorter toward the back and was combed a bit neater, more styled, but his bangs were still just as long and framed his face just perfectly. Just the right way to draw one to look into his fiery orange eyes and lose themselves to his charm. 

His fangs had lengthened quite nicely as well, though not quite as much as Aspire’s. They were shorter, almost coy in how they peeked from behind his lip to display their lethal tips. And, by Morrigan, he had grown since last time!

He actually looked down upon Aspire.

Sniffing, Aspire let his disguise burn away too, his eyes never leaving Enticier. He’s definitely grown into that look. It suits him very well.

“Oh, come on!” Sure Stroke flicked her tail, glaring up at Enticier. “You’ve got to be pulling a trick on me, you didn’t grow that much since last time you visited!”

The Prince of Enchanter gave a warm smile, one that could have sent a crowd of ponies’ hearts aflutter. “I’m a royal, dear,” he replied smoothly. “We’re naturally taller than other changelings.”

“A royal?” Lumière repeated, his smile faltering ever-so slightly. He and Cherry Blossom shared nervous glances, shifting in place. “I, er—do you mean an actual royal?”

“Of one of the great hives?” Cherry squeaked.

Aspire had to suck in his lips to hide a smile as Enticier inclined his head and let his smile melt into a more regal, fey like countenance as he truly became Prince Enticier.

“Enticier,” he replied. “Son of Lilith, Queen of the Enchanters of Paradise. And these are my dear friends.” His eyes sparkling, he nodded once and added, “At your service, sir.” 

Any air of playfulness in Cherry and Lumière’s antics vanished in the blink of an eye. The owner and proprietor of Heart’s Haven jolted to stand at attention and bowed low, then moved to kneel before Enticier.

“Your Highness, forgive me,” he stammered hastily. “I didn’t realize—I thought my son was only teasing at the time—truly, it’s an honor to host the Royal Family of Enchanters! M-My family hasn’t known such in over a generation!”

“So Redwood told us!” Enticier chuckled. “He made quite the convincing case that we accept an invitation to dine with you. I hope it’s not imposing, I do understand this is rather sudden—”

“Not at all!” Cherry cut him off, hurrying to her husband’s side. Her cheeks flushing a deep black, she bowed her head and stammered out a quick apology for her interruption, then continued, “I-I can most certainly accommodate three guests! Morrigan knows I’ve fed my fair share of hungry nymphs for so many years …”

Chittering, Redwood hid a wicked grin behind his hoof and threw in, “Not our fault you have so many of us!”

His mother rounded on him with a hiss. “You could have buzzed the elevator and let us know in advanced, you little parasprite!” Her horn flashed and caught Redwood with a tendril of magic before he could scamper off to hide. “Just for that, you can help me cook while your father entertains His Highness and his partners! Come along, young nymph!”

As Redwood was floated and tugged along in his mother’s wake, wriggling and kicking and protesting vehemently with every step of the way, Aspire could do little but stand stock still, his jaw agape and entire face burning like a hot skillet. Out of the corner of his  eye could see Sure Stroke bury her snout in her opposite wing to hide a blush, and how Enticier stiffened and bit his lip.

And how a deep blush spread to the nape of his neck and the very tips of his ears.

“Th-They’re not,” he whispered, just barely loud enough to be heard. “They’re not my …”

Her face still hidden, Sure Stroke reached over blindly and rubbed his shoulder. “It’s—It’s fine, Ent,” she said, her voice hitched and squeaky, as it tended to when she got so flustered. “Just an honest mistake.”

Enticier sucked in his lips and looked down, slowly reaching up to take her hoof in his and give it a squeeze. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.”

Aspire felt that pang shoot through his chest. Again, he cursed his younger self as he looked between his friend and their rather confused host. With a sheepish chuckle, he  managed to signal for Lumière to give them a moment or two alone, mindful of his friend’s feelings.

All the while, fighting the urge to turn and give him however big a hug it took to chase away whatever pain still lingered.





As one might imagine considering the furnishings on ground level, Lumière de L’Amour’s penthouse suite was every bit as lavish as was fitting for such a wealthy business owner. To say nothing of one who came from quite a long line of them, given he’d inherited several such condominiums and more.

The entire top floor of Heart’s Haven had been dedicated to the hiveless family’s private living space, which gave them no shortage of room to do with what they pleased in terms of design and layout. The sitting room, for example, could no doubt have been able to fit all four bedrooms in their home back in Respite! 

There were no less then a dozen bedrooms—some still furnished with the beds, dressers, and old nicknacks of the sons and daughters of the hiveless couple, with one or two reserved as guest rooms—a full kitchen, a rather modestly sized office with an oaken desk and plush cushion and polished grandfather clock where Lumière would no doubt sit and labor over his businesses and their profits, but there was one room among all others that was most striking. For one of their number, at least.

And just why shouldn’t Sure Stroke let out such an excited gasp when Lumière bade them enter a room full of splendorous paintings hanging upon the wall, blank canvases resting against a rack, an easel and assorted brushes, and an unfinished portrait of the famed Lady Harmony standing tall in the middle of Manehattan Bay?

Why shouldn’t the taste of utmost delight—like sweet candied apple slices dipped in caramel—thicken the air such that Aspire’s eyes crossed and his tail swished?

“Who’s the family artist?” Sure Stroke breathed.

Lumière beamed. “You like them?”

“Like them? I love them!” Her feathers fluffing, the little pegasus mare shuffled into the room and spun about, biting her lip in vain attempt to hide her glee as she tried to take in every image at once. Sure Stroke swished her tail like a little filly before turning her gaze upon their hose once more. “Was it—”

“Me? Ha!” The hiveless changeling shook his head, smiling ruefully. “I’m afraid not. Anything I try to make with my hooves ends up looking like a crime—a crime against the laws of nature and the eyes, if you’d believe it. Cherry and Reddy are the family artists.”

“Really?”

“Cherry did have a bit of paint spattered on her cheek,” Aspire chipped in.

Sure Stroke made to speak, but stopped and furrowed her brows. “Come to think of it, good point. Why didn’t I make that connection? That’s just silly of me.” She shook her head and sighed. “Anyway, I meant more Redwood being the shocker.”

Lumière gave a knowing nod. “Yes, I hear that a lot. Reddy doesn’t exactly seem much of an artist at first glance. Not until you get him talking or he sees someone or something he just needs to draw.” Chuckling, he nodded to a rather fetching painting of Penny, Swizzle, and Twizzle, each beaming back at the viewer like they were waiting to go out and play. “His little friends don’t sit still much, but he convinces them from time to time. Otherwise, he’s good with scenery and a few of the mares from his mother’s theater group.”

A theater group as well? Aspire hummed, impressed. Quite the multi-faceted family, this hiveless bunch. 

Filthy stinking rich, indeed, just as Penny said. And for good reason, it seemed.

“Your family has certainly done well for themselves over the years,” Enticier praised. “Your wife mentioned you had many nymphs, and you that Redwood was the youngest?”

Their host’s cheeks flushed again. “Thank you, You’re Highness. And yes, we have twelve in total, if you believe it. The others have moved out and either help manage the other condominiums or resorts, or have joined their mother in the arts community. Redwood was sort of our last little surprise, as it were.”

Sure Stroke’s ears twitched. “Twelve nymphs?” She cast a sidelong look at Aspire and Enticier, smirking playfully. “I don’t know how you managed it. I could barely survive my friends and they weren’t even my young.”

Aspire blew a breath through his nose and raised his brows at her. It was like that, was it?

He’d be sure to remember that remark. As would Enticier, judging by his taste.

Unwise, slighting both of them at once. Quiet unwise. And Esalen and Nimble by proxy as well.

A little something to keep ready, now that we know Ent’s okay, he thought to himself. A  bit of mischief and teasing would be a good return to normal.

Lumière, whether unaware of the slight or simply feigning innocence, chuckled and waggled his ears. “Some days, I wondered that myself. That aside—” he waved his hoof about the room “—I take it from you’re reaction, you’re a fellow artist?”

“Quite a brilliant one,” Enticier interjected with a purr. His eyes shone with wicked delight at the color which rose in the little mare’s cheeks. “You should see the lovely picture she drew for me when we first met—I still have it framed, sitting on my desk in my office in Paradise.”

“And I keep the one she did of the rainbow fountain of Cloudsdale on mine at home,” Aspire added, his grin shameless both in pride and delight at seeing his girlfriend try to hide behind fluffing wings.

Just as she deserved for her cheek, and for such genuine talent. 

And it only served to pique Lumière’s interest. 

“Oho? Is that so?” he asked. “Well, perhaps one day you’d be willing to share your talents with us. Or perhaps I might convince you to allow me to commission you, hmm?”

Sure Stroke’s face turned such a brilliant shade of red, Aspire would’ve dared say she’d splashed paint all over herself. “Wha—me?” she squeaked, burying her snout deeper in her feathers. “C-Commissioned work?”

“If you’d be willing, of course. That’s entirely up to you, my dear,” Lumière replied smoothly.  He gave her a light pat on the shoulder and steered her back to the doorway where Aspire and Enticier awaited. “But perhaps that can wait a bit, no? Let’s adjourn to the sitting room for a bit.”

Snickering, Aspire did as any good boyfriend would and wrapped a hoof around Sure Stroke’s shoulders so he could direct her to stand between himself and Enticier. Squeezed between the two changelings she’d just slighted, a situation not lost upon her, by how she ducked her head and let her ears splay.

“Oh,” Enticier muttered, leaning in close to murmur in her ear, just loud enough for Aspire to hear. “To take back unfortunate words, dear Doodle, no?”

“She wishes,” Aspire purred. “And I think Lumière just gave us the perfect avenue for a little fun.”

He flicked his tongue, savoring the delectable tastes of flattery and flustered embarrassment, coupled with the adorable little way Sure Stroke buried her face into his shoulder and whimpered in protest.

Poor mare.

There would be no escape for her. Certainly not with Lumière’s open intrigue in her work.

Or how delighted little Redwood had been to host them.

The visiting trio adjourned to the vast sitting room and took their seats upon the plush pink couch, while Lumière happily swished his tail and claimed the matching loveseat as his own. With a contented buzz of his wings, he reclined in his seat and made himself comfortable.

“So, what do you think?” he asked, his eyes lingering expectantly upon Enticier. 

Enticier, for his part, gave an approving nod. “Truly, your home displays all the looks of a successful family, and one with diverse talent, at that.” He cast a meaningful look over his shoulder to the kitchen and smiled. “And your youngest is quite the polite nymph, even before realizing my status.”

“You flatter me, Highness.”

“Deservedly so.” He waggled his ears. “I’d never played those arcade games before, and he was kind enough to show me when I appeared just a changeling in disguise and treated me just as he did my friends. My parents would highly approve of that.”

“As would mine, for what that’s worth,” Aspire put in. 

To his surprise, Lumière bowed his head. “To hear such praise from royalty and a Respite-born Caretaker means quite a lot. My wife will be delighted.”

True enough. The Marauders and Caretakers had always been rather closely tied. After all, of the hives, only the Marauders had ever split peacefully—the younger sister of Queen Tracheatum favored wandering the land to aid and entertain rather than waiting to provide, and had been granted her appeal to leave with those of similar mind.

That had been enough to bring a couple decades of peace while the other hives tried to wrap their heads around how such a shift without blood could have possibly come about. Changeling pride, after all, was no small matter. Least of all when one walked away from their ruler.

Cherrywood chose that moment to glide in from the kitchen and wrap her husband in a loose embrace. “What will I be delighted about, dear?” She nuzzled into his mane. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone and bought another theater or dance club.”

“Mmmm, not this time.” With a cheeky smile, Lumère tilted his head back and pecked beneath her chin. “Though, we apparently have another artist in our midst, in Miss Sure Stroke.”

Her ears perked up, the hiveless changeling looked up to survey Sure Stroke a moment. “Is she now?” Cherry purred, drawing a fresh bout of squirming from the flustered mare. Then, her gaze flitted to either changeling at her side and a knowing smile spread across her features. With a flick of her tongue, her eyes glinted. “Judging by how His Highness and Aspire taste of pride and amusement, you’re quite talented, no?”

Sure Stroke began to sink low, like she wished to slip between the cushions and escape her gaze. “I do okay!” the poor mare squeaked.

A pair of snorts and a slick nip of the ear from Aspire didn’t help her case.

Nor did Aspire turning to reply, “It’s like looking at the scenery through a window.”

Sure Stroke buried her face in his chest and hid herself beneath a wing. A babbling, rapid squeak which sounded something like “Oh my stars, you jerk!” her only reply.

Chittering merrily, Cherry waggled her ears. “Well, hopefully you all visit our fair city again soon so I can pester you to share it. I’m always eager to see what another can do. For now, though, dinner awaits.” She kissed the top of her husband’s head and released her embrace. “Have you ever had haddock, Highness?”

Enticier perked his ears. “I haven’t, but I’ve heard it’s rather nice.”

“Oh, it’s quite lovely. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

They rose and followed Cherry over to the dining room table, though Sure Stroke took a little coaxing to get her face out from beneath her wing. A wing which twitched as if to reunite with the back of Aspire’s head again, before she wrapped it around his neck and shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug.

Close enough that he could feel her cheeks burning with their flattery.

Excellent.

Just as a good, doodly pegasus such as herself deserved.

When they arrived in the dining room, they were met by little Redwood dutifully floating dishes and cutlery into place. The scents of spice, a sort of buttery sauce, and fish, a sort Aspire had never tasted let alone smelled before, was enough to make his mouth water. His mother, surely, would have excused the shameless way he ran his tongue along either side of his muzzle and fangs.

She’d have done the same, he told himself. No matter how many years of evidence there was to the contrary.

Aspire sat himself down across the table from Lumère, still wrapped tight beneath his girlfriend’s wing as snuggled up on a cushion nice and close to him. This time, Enticier chose his opposite side, so he could appease his little friend’s want to chat. 

To be fair, who could blame him? For a hiveless nymph, this was like a holiday.

And as soon as Redwood hurried into his seat, he launched into a flurry of questions as eager as a nymph trying to sneak peaks at his Sharers’ Day presents.

“Which part of the Ardent Mountains is the main lodge in?”

“Is it true there are kelpies and sea ponies in Lovers’ Cove? And they come visit on the solstices to sing with you?”

“What’s it like getting to manage the resorts?”

And on and on he went, throwing out any question he could think of the instant it came to mind. 

Enticier, to his credit, smiled through it all and seemed quite pleased to answer in between bites of fish and pasta. This was his element, Aspire realized. Perhaps a bit different, as he played the part of guest rather than doting host, but with that same sense of … was it decorum? Patience?

To Tartarus with it. Aspire was just going to call it his innate Enticier charm—quite a bit different from his Enchanter charm, mind.

The teacher’s apprentice opted to go ahead and take his first bite of haddock to spare himself any further failures of linguistics. Scolding himself and trying to argue within his own head on such subjects tended to get a little awkward after a while. Especially around others.

Staring off in the distance wasn’t exactly good manners, whether guest or host.

Aspire