//------------------------------// // Penultimate Phase // Story: Brief History: Side Stories // by K9Thefirst1 //------------------------------// Penultimate Phase 9 AW, The Palace of Friendship Nighttime in the dead of a mild winter had fallen upon the lands of Equestria, and good little fillies and colts had gone to bed, and their parents were soon joining them. One by one, hearths were allowed to burn down to coals, and candles were snuffed out. The full moon hung in the night sky, totally unobscured by even the faintest of cloud-wisps. Her soft light bathing the land in a gentle pale blue shade like a tender, more temperate sun. It was the time of the Wise Owl, the haunt of the Midnight Wolf and his soul-soothing howls. The time of Lovers, and their sweet serenades to one another. At the palace, one mare in particular prepared for bed. After her usual hours after the Moon Rise Ritual devoted to studying the esoteric nature of the cosmos, she read over the philosophy and theoretical-magical ponderings of the greatest minds of history, her beloved and dearly departed mentor being chief amongst them. But, even natural philosophers needed their sleep, and so Clover the Clever partook of her rituals. After her evening bath, she took a brush in her mouth and began to pass it over the hairs of her tail and what parts of her dark mane she could reach until they were almost smooth as silk. It had been a task that had been performed by her mother as far back as Clover could remember, and that was indeed a very long time. Her mother's health had never been exceptional, but sadly her condition had worsened in the months since Father's passing. The writing was on the wall. But even so, this small, tender memory of action and touch had always soothed Clover after any sort of day, and even as the loss of another parent loomed, this memory, she felt, would be nothing less than one of peace. Still, Clover could only dwell on such melancholy matters for so long, and thus she directed her thoughts towards things more... Pleasant. And... Well, carnal. In particular concerning a certain stallion that, to others of the present and distant future, would normally be considered an unusual choice in a suitor. For the latter, it will one day be his age, to the former, it would be the fact that he was a pegasus and she a unicorn. However, after many years of trial and error, the older pony had caught her heart deeply in his net, and for the mare, no other stallion would do other than Hurricane, the former Commander of the defunct Celestine Junta. The reasons for her affections were rather nuanced, but there was no doubt that he was, despite his boisterous disposition, very intelligent, and a sharp wit that made conversations most entertaining. However... Well, there was no denying that, for a stallion his age, Hurricane was very attractive in the face and in... In body. And many a pegasus mare had visited the palace, swapping stories of his past. Obviously many were at best implausible based on anatomy (though admittedly her material on pony anatomy was composed partly on guesswork), but they all seemed to have a basis in reality when compared to the stories told by mares who had actually been his lovers in times past. And their audience Clover, known or unknown to them, had a photographic memory, meaning every word, and every inflection of emotion their memories conjured up, was perfectly preserved in her mind. It would be a lie to suggest the stories did not have some affect. But, second or third-hoof information was not something to compare to actual experience. And in the months since their first night sharing a bed (utterly innocent mind you), the unicorn and pegasus had spent more and more nights together in her chambers. And in more recent evenings the visits had proven to be... Less innocent. Oh! Her maidenhead was still safe and secure mind you... However, Hurricane's years of experience proved that there were other ways for a stallion to bring his lover to ecstasy, and all while never indulging in satisfying his own no doubt strong urges. The unicorn sighed at the memories. Not just at the sensations contained in them (and their affects on her person in the present), but at the sights of Hurricane's expressions at his handiwork -- The obvious pride at his skill, and the affection he held for her and the surrogate joy he had in pleasuring her. Yes, despite his marenizing nature, Hurricane was indeed a romantic at heart. The memory of realizing this fact was most assuredly the most cherished in Clover's mind. His tender embrace, the sweetness of his kiss, the very scent of his presence, all seemed honed to ensuring a moment together in a beautiful memory, a memory that worked upon her body as though her lover was right there himself. Why, even now it was almost as if she could hear music... Clover blinked. No, no she was hearing music: The gentle tones of a lyre being played by skilled hooves, weaving a soft tune and was to cause the heart to melt, and it was coming from the young mare's window. Which should have been impossible, for her room was on the highest floor of the Royal Keep. Clover racked her brain to think of a logical reason for the sudden increase in melody in her life... And really the answer was quite obvious. "Honestly, that stallion." Getting up from her bed, Clover put away the brush before making for the window. The palace was situated on the side of a steep hill, allowing unparalleled views of the landscape, it's sweeping plains, the distant mountains, and the forests where the two met, all of it illuminated by a bright, full moon as though it were a sun. And out beyond that nocturnal orb, a field full of stars danced in accompaniment. It was a sight that Clover was quite familiar with, having lived here for nigh a decade. But a few feet out, and a story below, on a fluffy white cloud and playing the mystery lyre, was her dark-coated pegasus beau. With skill that belied his lack of magic, Hurricane played a tune reminiscent of quiet nights, of tender touches, and sweet kisses. He opened his eyes, and looked up to Clover, his smoldering gaze locked to her own, promising so many wonderful, dangerous things. It was a gaze Clover was well acquainted with, having seen it as he... The thought made her heart beat and her cheeks blush and her, her body react in ways that desired attention. But still, there was the fact that her suitor was out in the middle of the night on a cloud. "Hurricane what are you doing out here? It is midnight." The old stallion simply smiled, and continued to play his tune as though he didn't hear her. Clover rolled her eyes before continuing. "Hurricane, 'tis lovely, but it is late." Hurricane merely smiled, and then began to sing. "Take the ribbon from your hair, Shake it loose and let it fall. Laying soft against your skin, Like the shadows on the wall." As he played, he gently flapped his wings, slowly pulling his cushion closer and closer to her window. As he softly crooned, he paused in his song after each line to play a few sweet notes. "Come and lay by my side, 'Till the early morning light, All I'm taking is your time, Help me make it through the night." By now, the old stallion was within feet of Clover in her perch, eyes locked to her own, his baritone like a decadent dessert in her ears. His song began to crescendo into a bridge, further exciting the mare's heart. "I don't know what's Right or Wrong, And I won't try to understand. Let the Devil take tomorrow, For tonight I need a friend." Clover sighed, head framed by her hooves as she simply gave in and enjoyed the music as it returned to its soothing tones. Meanwhile, Hurricane drifted ever closer, his voice fading to a bare whisper, just audible over the sound of the breeze and flap of his wings. Now inches apart, Clover could smell his musky scent, sending tendrils of excitement into her body. "Yesterday is dead and gone, And tomorrow is out of sight, I can't stand to be alone, Help me make it through the night." The Lyre lay abandoned upon the cloud, and Hurricane, forelimbs supported on her windowsill, began to nuzzle Clover, his warm breath tickling her ear, his lips just brushing her fur of her ear. The mare's face was hot with blood and excitement. Finally, after a year of teasing, they would consummate. It was the only logical explanation for why the stallion would be here and seduce her in such a manner. And as the stallion whispered the last of his serenade, the mare tilted her head to the right, to provide Hurricane a better angle for him to kiss the nape of her neck... "I can't stand to be alone..." So close, so warm, Clover the Clever was so aroused, closing her eyes in mounting anticipation, biting her lower lip to contain her moan of excitement. Any moment now, in her mind's eye, Hurricane would take her to bed, force her nightwear from her body and ravish her like a wild animal. "Help me... Make it through... The night." Yes, Yes! Now! Now was the time! Hurricane would touch her neck with butterfly kisses, and then he would nibble upon her ear, exciting the nerves there like a fire! Her untapped loins, so eagerly awaiting his ministrations, would overflow with readiness, making her perfect to accept his guidance into true marehood! And then he would-! And then he... He... Why was nothing happening? Clover opened her eyes to find... Nothing. Well and truly nothing. Where Hurricane once stood was naught but empty air and an abandoned cloud. The brown-coated mare looked left, then right, and then up, but saw no sign of her beau. She heard a laugh from below, and upon looking down, Clover saw Hurricane, gliding away like a colt who stole a cookie from the kitchens without being caught. The unicorn mare stared, wide-eyed, an occasional twitch affecting her left eye as she watched the laughing mad-pony fly off. Slowly but surely, her brain began to work again as she processed what this meant: There would be no deflowering tonight. Her untapped loins would remain untapped. Her mental constructs of what that Holy of Holies in Lovemaking would be like would go untested for the foreseeable future. And what was worse: Her body was well and fully aroused and eager for those activities. To say that she was, ah, frustrated, was putting it mildly. "HURRICANE!" she bellowed, giving a grand total of negative five damns about the possibility that somepony might hear her. "You get back up here and get me off this instant!" The only response she got was an uproarious and quite recognizable laugh from the darkness. "Scoundrel!" She yelled, "Cad! Virgin-Tease! UTTERLY UNPLEASANT FELLOW!! AUUGH!!" With continued application of rage-induced pseudo-vocabulary, Clover strutted away from the window and paced the room, stomping the floor as if it had personally insulted her. Seeing this do nothing to help her mood, the mare flopped onto her bed and did her best to get comfortable. She tossed this way, she tossed that way. She even turned herself around so that her head was at the foot of the bed and her back hooves at the head. Still nothing. With another wordless groan of frustration, Clover came to accept the harsh and cruel reality she found herself in: She was in for a long, sleepless night, as there would be no release for a long, long, long time... ------ Three stories above, unbeknownst to a certain court mage, a number of ponies were watching the proceedings at Clover's window. Most of them were guards, the local garrison of the Royal Army charged with protecting the palace and its occupants. The solitary mare in the group was Princess Platinum herself. All were munching on roasted chestnuts. "Can I get my money back?" one of the stallions deadpanned. "It was a free show, of course you can." quipped another. The pan continued to prove itself well and truly deceased throughout the remainder of the conversation between the commander on duty, who bore the insignia identifying him as the Grandmaster of their Order, and the Princess Platinum, their eyes never once looking away from the scene they just witnessed, even as the other soldiers went about their rounds (bags of chestnuts in hoof). "I suppose Her Majesty will be sleeping in her own quarters this evening." Platinum chewed on her chestnuts a little bit longer before swallowing. She then took an expression that could only be described as 'blissful' as she contemplated the notion. "Indeed Lord Nightshade, I suppose she would. Not that she looks down upon the accommodations in the barracks, but the Royal Spine has not the constitution for chronically enduring a mattress that is not at least partially stuffed with feather-down." Lord Nightshade nodded sagely as he munched on another hoof-full of nuts. "Indeed. The rigors of state and the rigors of security are equally taxing upon the body, just in different ways." The two sat at the wall surrounding the roof of the keep in companionable silence as they continued to eat their snacks. "Lord Nightshade, I trust you and your stallions will continue to understand the utmost importance in discretion on their part." Nightshade nodded before looking down to his much shorter liege from the corner of his eye. "There is no concern from that quarter You Majesty. Lady Clover on the other hoof, is another matter entirely." Platinum 'hmm'd' at that and gave a small nod in agreement before a few more minutes of quiet fell over them. Then Nightshade came to a rather daunting realization. "Considering how audible Lady Clover is during foreplay, what prey-tell will she do when Hurricane unsheathes his blade Your Majesty?" Platinum's eyes shot open, her jaw pausing in mid-chew. Seconds ticked by before she swallowed, and as her food fell down her throat, the color in her face seemed to go with it. "The sooner they are wed and out from under my roof, the better."