//------------------------------//
// 38 — Feeling Filly II: Greedy Little Filly 
// Story: Ms. Glimmer and the Do-Nothing Prince 
// by scifipony 
//------------------------------//

I walked up to the stallion, smile growing. Citron blocked the entrance—and a new customer in a top hat, who looked confused..

I caught myself before I kissed him. I might not understand my impulses, but I could control them! My response seemed tied to not seeing the prince, so it would be wrong to set Citron's expectations.

I asked, "You were looking for me?" Unaccountably, I sniffed the air. Cinnamon? Wait, what!?

A part of me was making comparisons. I was in a flapping bakery. Of course, cinnamon. Anise, also, like someone had spilled the spice at the rear of the bakery. Singe's perfume? I shook my head. Lots of yeast...

I raised a hoof and pushed the stallion out of the doorway and into the sunlight. Top hat tipped his hat, trotting in.

Citron replied, "Yeah. Shining Armor was in a state. The pink princess—"

"Figures," I said, an entourage with the box of pastries forming up behind me. I trotted for the castle.

"The lieutenant cut our class short, so I figured I'd look for you. Ponies said you— Wait, are you sniffing me?"

I jerked my head back. "Um."

"Is that a mare thing? I've had other mares do that, but was too embarrassed to ask. Do I stink?"

I snorted, bumping his shoulder. "You don't stink." I specifically put my nose to his neck and inhaled. "No. You smell like a pony, and I presume like your breakfast. Alfalfa?" Nice, but not cinnamon. "We smell like what we eat, and slightly of sweat." I chuckled. "Not a bad scent."

"You don't smell like fish."

I aimed a kick, which he dodged, my earlier enchantment dissipating. The castle looming blocks down the Strand reminded me that the Eagle's Stoop floated beyond, being provisioned and repaired. We trotted past pedestrians fresh from breakfast. Some noticed the guard, fewer recognized their new princess. 

I turned the corner toward Alicorn Way, then down a street lined with warehouses and factory stores. It bustled, but the workers were far too occupied to notice me. I heard steam engines, the clank of springs, boxes hitting a wagon bed, and ponies talking. Relative anonymity for me.

I blurted, "Celestia wrote that a village was obliterated." 

To his shocked face, I explained about the Golden Stag, the Stoop, and my plans. He squared his shoulders and hips, and raised his head, shedding his casual attitude. Having worked a year with the teenager, I recognized him becoming all business. Then he leaned in to me.

I'd become agitated as I spoke; his gallant contact made it fade. The colt I'd known had grown up. He pressed against my wound, but it was considerably healed and I had plenty of practice ignoring discomfort. Pain was part and parcel of any profession I chose.

I swiveled my ears back, hearing approaching horseshoes on cobblestones. I kept talking as I was well guarded.

A velvety nose touched my left flank to the rear of my cutie mark.

I squeaked. Its owner plowed forward with his muzzle, rapidly cutting me away from Citron. I gasped, outraged, then saw a limp blond mane and blue eyes. 

The Prince's station explained why nopony had stopped him.

"Hey!" yelled Citron, his flank touched also, clattering sideways from the heftier stallion.

My jaw dropped at his cheekiness. The pearlescent unicorn grinned at me, then looked sternly at my bodyguard. "I say, find your own lane, my dear sir!"

Citron huffed, but fell behind while the prince snugged to my side as Citron had. Citron clattered behind us. I worried for an instant the colt might pull the same maneuver and I clenched my rear in anticipation, but—disappointingly—he trotted to my right side and snugged in there.

Oh, my! What a new sensation! 

Sandwiched between two stallions, both bigger and taller than me, I was struck... Speechless. I felt their warmth and their muscles moving. They were careful to adjust their lean, otherwise they might have picked me up and carried me. 

The feeling... 

How to describe it...?

I shivered, allowing myself to feel delighted. Part of me suspected stallion aggression, but didn't care.

Citron and Blueblood looked at me, their horns clacking together when the did so; the prince's was considerably longer, which compensated for Citron's average nubbin. They said over each other, "Starlight?" (the prince) "You okay?" (Citron).

My heart opened up widely, as wide as my grin. I had two stallions at the moment and loved them both! I indulged in a delighted greediness that they were all mine. 

It wasn't the first time I'd grown a herd around me. In Baltimare, Citron, with Pig Pen and Crystal Skies, had vied to protect me when the pony of mystery we escorted turned out to be somepony sent by Carne Asada to test my team, and the earth pony turned out to be sketchy. A mare knows when she's gathered. It amused me then because I could whip everypony's flank, including our "teacher's." Later, I added  on Broomhill Dare and her husband Safe, who incidentally had been that sketchy teacher—but Carne Asada's rivals had that same day laid a trap for us, which made the original three's herding instinct even stronger. 

After the explosion in Hooflyn, after I returned crusted in dried blood from triaging the EBI agents hurt that night, after I announced Doña Carne Asada was dead, I inadvertently formed another herd of dozens of gang members and the lieutenants caught up in war. They declared me the new Doña—Carne Asada had called me her daughter, after all. They became the fiercely loyal core that allowed me to take over the syndicate with no bloodshed (that I knew of) and to defuse the inter-gang tensions that would have fomented wars of retribution for years beyond.

Says something about me that I used the new herd and accomplished what I wanted, then ghosted the syndicate two weeks later.

I bet a few gangsters—any who read the papers—recognized their former Doña had been coronated Crown Princess of Equestria. 

I shook my head to dispel that worrisome thought of what they might do as a result, before it ruined my mood. I forced the grin on my face not to fade as the two stallions glared at one another.

I considered the implications of greedy. What would I do with two stallions at one time? 

Shocked at the thought that welled up, I vanquished it. I certainly didn't want a herd, and I wondered if I could share that way. Moreover, who said I had to choose? I wasn't about to choose, now, or for the foreseeable future. With my goals, with my dangerous mission, marriage was far off—should I be so lucky to live that long. As a princess—well, there had to be an upside, right?—nopony could make me choose either stallion, or any stallion, as a consort.

I didn't like conflict. The idea that I might be fought over did not thrill me. Instinct was another thing to oppress ponies and prevent them from being equal—like cutie marks, which I'd vowed to eliminate...

Was my cutie mark making me do this?

I shivered again. My body said, No. The delight I felt was plainly pony instinct. Which is why I persisted in my greediness until I realized I felt—as the prince's muscles and bones moved against my left side—that he limped.

I halted.

The two stallions dragged against my barrel and neck. The static in the autumn air caused my fur to crackle, friction pulling the ponies together to bump head and neck before me. The breeze blew from the castle. Citron's agitated state strengthened his alfalfa sweat scent, but I gasped at the prince's cinnamon scent, absent last night, even in bed, but deliciously noticeable now.

Bed made me think Maiden's Cure, then that I hadn't picked up a certain potion that every mare trusted from the nurse's office. "Um—"

The prince's nostrils flared. 

I interposed my body between the two, pushing Citron back with my flank. "Don't go all Brawler on me."

He blinked, glassy eyed. 

"Blue-eyed Brawler?" I prompted.

He blinked, then nodded. "Play on words. Right."

A critical eye showed disheveled fur, hair very much not in place, vague bruises I might have given him—or Cadance had. 

"Didn't think Cadance had it in her, but yay her." I laughed as I clattered around.

I looked to Citron, pointing at the prince's injuries, but his expression went from—what? Annoyed? Jealous?—to mildly amused, the tip of his tongue peeking out as his lips curved slightly up. I caught the prince rolling his eyes, but grinning.

I suspected we each had a different joke in our heads, but suddenly I felt good. I liked being liked by lots of ponies. Popularity? A new affectation. Probably that friendship thing rearing its ugly head again! 

But.

I liked it.

The prince said, "One of things I like about you, Starlight, is simply being around you makes me feel good. It's a given."

Citron snorted, then muttered, "Hard to compete with that, but I'd say life around you is always delightfully interesting."

The greedy little filly inside squealed, would have danced, but I kept her under control, simply smiling, feeling my open heart radiate for the both of them. They watched me, smiling as if basking in my sun.

Blueblood explained, "Had a little fight."

"Cadance didn't get hurt, I presume?"

He looked away, noncommittally.

"Well, she'll surely volunteer in class. You ought invite her to your secret fight gym." 

Turning to Citron, I added, "A former dungeon under his palace suite." 

To the prince: "As much as I want you to myself, I'm not adverse to sharing." I looked between the two, then grinned wider. "'Sharing.' A new word for me, but I'll do my best."

To their benefit, they both gave a whinny and stepped back slightly from one another. Not sure what my comment made them think, but I smiled more. I trotted toward the castle, tail contentedly swishing. Both sped to take point.

The prince did limp, slightly. Demure Cadance must have gotten in a good kick. I wasn't going to ask.

Blueblood stated off-hoof, "Your shoulder. That doesn't look good."

Citron tilted his head, then came around me to look at the exact spot. "I thought you winced. What happened?"

"I KO'd a griffon," I replied, blandly. 

"Griffon?" the two echoed.

I blew air through my lips, then said, "Good fun," before grinning.

The prince said rhetorically, "She does have a death wish."

Citron quipped, "It's her hobby."

"The ensign's XO was more disgusted with his assignment than—"

"XO? What now?" Citron asked.

I waited for Blueblood to fill in the military deets, but then I remembered he'd been a child soldier, so couldn't have been in any modern military. Fought for a frontier pony country, doubtless. I said, "Executive officer. Second in command. Wants to be assigned to jobs he thinks he's better suited for, but certainly determined to take shore leave, to go on a cidering binge. I convinced him otherwise."

"Gave you that?" the prince asked, examining the wound as we walked.

"I teleported him back when he tried to leave, but then he didn't take the clue to straighten up and fly right. Instead, he accepted my challenge when I said he needed to beat me if he wanted his shore leave."

Citron whistled. "Didn't know you'd KO'd Punch Drunk and Shadow Strike, not to mention obliterating Cyclone Beaujangles, twice?"

"You'd have to have been in the syndicate to know about Cyclone, though I do think his breaking all four legs did make the papers!" I chuckled.

"Right." Citron turned to the prince (now that he was between him and me) and said, "You're right about the death wish, Your Royal Highness."

I growled, but waved the prince closer. "You're out of the loop, but shouldn't be. That frigate we saw floating outside the castle walls this morning..."

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Stoop's a museum piece, but I'm working with the ensign captaining it to make it operational. She says all the right things. She won't do anything unwarranted. She understands how vulnerable Canterlot is with the Golden Stag having already attacked. I want a visible, close up and personal, deterrence on patrol to keep the deer from even thinking of burning down Ponyville or torching the surrounding farms. I think it's important to disabuse them of taking an easy opening shot in a war they're itching for."

"Deterrence?" the prince asked.

"Javelin ballista loads. Stones, glue balls, maybe hopefully smoke bombs for the trebuchets? Failing that, I'll accept apple pies. Doesn't sound like much, but getting hit by falling objects always hurts. I'm warning the both of you. Either of you blab to Celestia's captains, I'll kill you."

"No, ma'am," they said simultaneously. I eyed the prince, expecting he'd have a superior take on fighting. He immediately shook his head.

Having bemoaned a lack of real weapons, I got an idea. "Citron. How far can you cast Force?

A hoof to his chin, he said "Well? Since I've been pardoned... I set the abandoned warehouse in the old railway yard on fire from over a city block away. It was through a fence without melting the chain links. I joined the fire brigade so I could get a closer look at the flames. Pretty spectacular. Mesmerizing."

I hugged him. "My favorite pyro-pony."

"Uh, okay," he said cautiously.

"You could give the Eagle's Stoop real firepower." I pointed at Citron looking at the prince. "I've seen him set cement on fire."

The prince stepped back.

Citron looked pale. "Not sure that floats my boat, Starlight."

I pouted at him, giving him puppy eyes. "Please?"

"Not a fan of heights." He scrunched his nose and shook his head.

"I can make it worth your while," I said, immediately closing the distance and kissing him. Our lips bounced off, but it took him less than a couple seconds to trot close enough. I did make it worth his while, for us both, enough that I reaffirmed in my mind he could make me ready. Before the cobble road could trip us up and we had to dodge further traffic, and the sense of the prince's stare (not to mention the work ponies who noticed) grew beyond distracting, I pulled away. 

"You're confusing me," Citron whispered.

I wiped my lips with a fetlock."I'm confusing me! I apologize. To you. To you both. This is important to me. I'm desperate to protect ponies!"

"I'll do it. I'll be your fire-breathing dragon, but you owe me some time alone, okay?" He cleaned it up by adding, "To talk it all out."

"Absolutely." I raised my right hoof. "Princess' honor."

"The P-word. Now I am worried," Citron said.

"Me, too," the prince chimed in. "I can't stay long, and I did need to speak to you." He eyed Citron, pointing his nose ahead and way from us. "Privately."

Citron, satisfied with his deal, sped up to clear our way.

"Right," I said. "You sent Singe to fetch me. What's up?"

"Singe?" 

Did he sound surprised? 

"Starlight, I want you to promise me never to leave the castle grounds without a full escort of guards."

I started to huff, but his eyes looked worried. I asked, "The fight you hinted at wasn't Cadance?"

"I can't explain, now. I might ignore you if you ask later. Even if the pony asking is one of my bodyguards and I'm not there, Don't. Go. Off. Alone."

I circled around him, growing concerned.

"Please promise."

Fatigue? His limp got worse. He let me approach and blow his fur aside to reveal— not bruises. Something reminded me of Pastel, from earlier, in the frigate. He flinched away.

"Starlight. I'm protecting you. Even if I act strangely, and don't tell you the same thing later—"

"I knew it. You're bipolar!"

"Not it," he said, sternly. 

His ears swiveled, listening away from me, oddly, as he added, "Please, Starlight. Even if I won't open up to you, please believe me. In a very significant way, you transformed me. You opened my eyes. You made me 'see my evil ways.' You made me a better pony. I believe this. And. I'm not sure if I could live without you."

I stopped, tail stiff.

Proper Step carrying my pastry box on his back, and the pink-maned yellow guard, both stopped, maintaining their distance.

Citron stopped, getting in the way of traffic, stopping an eight and coach bus, a tanker wagon, and a dozen pony pedestrians. While the sound of brakes faded, the sounds of industry continued. Did I imagine the street became hushed?

My voice squeaked when I said the unspoken part out loud. "Is he proposing to me?"

The prince looked rapidly right and left, at Citron and Proper Step. Worried and earnest, his ears flicking, he said, "I— I— I would want to, but there are reasons why the prince can't. This pony—" he pointed at himself, patting his chest lightly, then pounding, repetitively. "This pony—This pony learned what love is from you—and will be forever grateful."

With that, his strong haunches flexed and thrust him away faster than I could react to his leap. He looked worriedly to the sky as he galloped by Citron, then turned, skidding, and shot down an alleyway with his hooves fading into the din and clatter.

My mouth hung open.

I failed to send my pegasus guard following. I was stunned. Totally. Stunned.

His admonishment... I was in danger?

He loves me? 

I scoffed. I was unworthy of any pony's love. I was an evil manipulative combative monster! who used ponies to get her way. Stupid friendship horse apples! They dazzled ponies, hiding the truth.

I took his warning, however. We galloped the rest of the way to the castle.

Way to ruin the mood...