4. Share With the Class
Though the Royal Canterlot Hotel was only a couple minutes away from the castle, flying over the Canterlot skyline was like having an aerial view over a diorama. No matter how many times she came to the city, whether on orders from one of the princesses or for the Wonderbolts Derby, Spitfire found herself spending more time glancing down at the buildings and watching ponies mill about than any other city.
From the bleach white marble to the soft purples and brilliant golds that decorated the more well-to-do houses and businesses, Canterlot looked like somepony had brought it straight out of a fairytale and into Equestria. Even the outer districts’ lower income housing seemed like it belonged in the upper crust neighborhoods of other cities.
A grin made its way across her muzzle. Spitfire shook her head and chuckled. “Ma would probably have a heart attack if she saw some of the prices, even if dad’s pension and savings would make it look like a drop in the bucket.”
Catching sight of the hotel’s rooftop, she banked to the left, circling overhead until she was certain the wouldn’t run the risk of trampling some poor passerby when she came in for landing.
She could almost see the headlines in the paper. “Captain of the Wonderbolts tramples wealthy businesspony,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes. “Just what I need after last night.”
Her bemused grin morphed, a fond smile took its place. The memory of Twilight Sparkle—Princess Twilight Sparkle, rather—sitting beside her on a cloud, all cozy like they really were pair of regular mares on a date instead of princess and Wonderbolt.
So cute, she thought. Awkward, inexperienced, and easily flustered. Wonder if I was like that my first time…
Their first kiss had been so sweet and innocent, but those after full of passion and vigor. A mistake? In her mind, their kisses certainly weren’t, but after that… yes. They’d jumped the starting bell and skipped over the bonding portion of the relationship.
Spitfire shook her head. “We’re gonna take care of that,” she told herself. “This thing has a chance to work, and we’re not gonna let it get become something where it’s nothing more than ‘she’s a good lay’.”
Angling herself for a leisurely descent, she swooped down, flaring her wings to slow her descent she touched down on the carriage driveway. “Morning,” she said to the doorpony.
The young stallion tipped his hat and gave a bright smile. “Good morning, Captain Spitfire!” he said, his voice full of energy. Somepony had clearly given him a double shot today. “Welcome back to the Royal Canterlot Hotel! Is there anything I can do to better your stay?”
“No, you’re doing fine, bud.” Spitfire waved him off with a hoof. “Just coming back after a bit of a—eheh, late night.”
To his credit, his smile didn’t falter in the slightest. “Of course, Captain.” Stepping to the side, he bowed low. “Enjoy the rest of your stay! Please don’t hesitate to ask for assistance with anything you need!”
Her smile strained, but she nodded all the same. Geez, like I’m getting the royal treatment. If only for show. She shook her head as she trotted passed him and into the lobby. Don’t be like that, he’s a colt doing a job to get himself some bits. Probably happy to have a little coin in his pocket for some hobbies, maybe take his gal out to dinner. Or boyfriend. Or both.
Spitfire gave another shake of her head, her fiery mane whipping back and forth. “Mind your own business, Spits. Ma would give you such a cuff to the ear if she knew you were thinking like that.”
And she’d tan your hide if she found out what you did last night with that mare. Her smile fell, a small frown marred her muzzle as she made for the elevator on the other side of the lobby. Passing by the front desk, she nodded to the hotel management as they greeted guests and happily pointed ponies toward Canterlot’s finest restaurants and sights. Ma would be all over you for not calling stop when you should’ve.
“Yeah, I know,” she muttered to herself, slapping the elevator button with a bit more force than she meant. Tapping a hoof against the tile floor, she looked up at the elevator floor counter as it ticked down from the fifteenth floor. “I screwed up, I let her fly into a storm she couldn’t handle, and she freaked out this morning. We’re gonna make this right, though.”
Her tapping became louder, more insistent. The dial slowly made its way down, passing by ten, and stopping just at nine.
Scowling, she flicked her tail. I could fly up to my room if it weren’t for the window locks. Stupid hotel rules. Of course, the delay would give her a bit more time to think of what needed to be done today.
Checking in on Fleetfoot and Soarin was first priority—the pair weren’t typically given to mischief, but they had their moments. The Seaddle Convention Center staff still told stories of that night with the Saddle Arabian prince and his wife, if her sources were correct.
Not to mention they had Rainbow Dash with them at the Gala. Spitfire had to bite her lip to stifle a groan at the thought. Dash was her top prospect, a shoe in for the Bolts once she grew out of that maverick streak of hers. “If those two roped her into something stupid, I’m gonna beat their heads in!” she growled.
As stupid as sleeping with a virgin princess on your first date—actually, that would’ve been better. That wasn’t even a date, it was an escorting assignment given by Princess Celestia herself.
The ping of the elevator bell made her ears flick, and jolted her out of her thoughts. A small mercy. Spitfire stepped to the side to let other guests out, she gave a small wave to the awestruck foals who gaped and mouthed her name.
“Mommy, mommy! Look! That’s Captain Spitfire!” a little filly cried, giving her tiny wings an excited flap.
Chuckling, a mare with dusty pink coat and auburn mane bent down and picked her up by the scruff of her neck, placing her daughter gently on her back. “Yes, sweetie, we saw her walk in yesterday, remember?” she cooed.
Spitfire’s eyes met hers, the pair shared smiles. With a little laugh of her own, Spitfire stepped passed the group, letting her wing flick out to ruffle the filly’s mane. “Hey there, kid,” she greeted. “Be good for your ma, ‘kay?”
The little filly practically squealed, bobbing her head so fast she would’ve toppled over if not for a quick unfurling of her mother’s wings. Giving a wave of her hoof, she turned back to her mother and chattered excitedly, much to the amusement of the surrounding adults.
So much like Spitfire herself had been the first time her dad took her into the Wonderbolts’ Lounge to meet his team. How she buzzed about the room, going from fawning over Firefly to gaping at Cyclone as he warmed up for a few laps around the track and dared her to try and keep up.
Being the gutsy little filly she was, Spitfire took him up on it and promptly found herself eating his dust. But, oh, what a time that had been!
“What floor, Captain?” the elevator attendant asked with a tip of his hat.
“Sixteen, bud. Penthouse suite.” She let her mind wander as he flipped the switch, closing the doors and beginning their ascent.
Soft music wafted from the speakers, her ears flicked. Jazz? No, it didn’t have any of the saxophone accompaniment or quick strokes of brush sticks against cymbals. Nor was there the ever-popular scat singing.
It was smooth. The piano melody almost made her want to lean right up against the wall and drift off to sleep, almost like a lullaby.
Like the one you hummed for Twilight last night. Ma’s lullaby. Wrinkling her muzzle, she picked a spot on the elevator wall and stared at it, and gave that irritating little voice in her head a shove to the deepest recesses of her mind.
She’d fix it and they’d work things out. If there was something there, they’d find it on one of their actual dates. If not…
Spitfire shook her head. Think positive, don’t start planning for things to go screwy. This isn’t a routine or a mission, old girl. Give the darn thing a chance to take.
The bell chimed out as the elevator reached its destination on the sixteenth floor. Spitfire blinked to clear her head and stepped forward while the double door slid open. She stopped short, turning to the attendant and reaching into the pocket of her uniform to flick a couple of bits toward him. “Thanks for the ride.”
He caught the coins in his magic, grinning back at her. “Have a pleasant day, Captain!” he called back as she stepped out of the elevator and made her way down the hallway.
Normally, elevators to penthouses opened up inside the room. But the Royal Canterlot Hotel placed great value on its guests’ privacy—a short hallway, with pristine tile floor, walls of white with gold and purple trim, and paintings commissioned from the finest artists. It was a show of class. If one could afford to stay in the penthouse, they were likely a mere step or two below royalty or lordship, and thus they deserved that same treatment.
The Wonderbolts were quite well-off—both the team itself, and members of the top squad. Still, each time the team went to the Gala and got put up in the Royal’s penthouse, she found her eyes lingering over the decor.
This time, a certain picture of Commander Hurricane and Clover the Clever caught her eye. The pair stood before a contingent of diamond dogs, Clover’s mouth open in mid-speech, while Commander Hurricane was at her side, wings flared out and ready to spring into action. A picture of one of the first examples of unified diplomacy.
How ironic that the very same incident had been a topic of conversation the night before. Spitfire could only chuckle and shake her head. “Well, ma loves to say there’s no such thing as coincidence. Maybe she’s onto something there.”
Maybe their first date could include a bit of reading, then. Spitfire gave a merry swish of her tail at the prospect. Finally, somepony who could relax and enjoy a good story—with the added benefit of a rather great understanding of Equestrian culture, if Rainbow Dash’s boasts at the training grounds were any indication.
Humming to herself, Spitfire raised an eyebrow. “I wonder how Dash would react if I told her friends how much she gushed over having ‘friends awesome enough’ to keep up with her.” Visions of her top cadet’s blue muzzle turning rosy pink danced through her mind, a wicked grin crossed her muzzle. “I might just have to beg Twilight to help me make that happen! Gotta keep the rookie in line somehow!”
She approached the door, glancing down at the knob for any sign of a tie or one of Fleetfoot’s socks. Nothing. Either it was safe to enter and they’d at least kept whatever they’d done to their room, or they’d forgotten and she was about to get a free show.
And not one she wanted, no matter how much fillies squealed over how “fit” Soarin’s rump was.
With no shortage of trepidation, she rapped her hoof against the door. “Fleet! Soar!” she called in her best stern officer’s voice. “If I walk in and find you two are screwing on the couch, I’m kicking both your sorry rears to the moon and back!”
Her ear perked up, the sound of shuffling hooves and muted grumbling came from within the room. The lock clicked, the door pulled open to reveal a rather irritated and, by the bags beneath his eyes and alcohol on his breath, hungover Soarin. “Captain,” he greeted tersely. His navy mane was thoroughly ruffled and sticking out in odd places, a hint that he’d only just rolled out of bed. “With all due respect, gehen Brunft einen Kaktus . It’s too early in the morning for this!”
Grinning at his slip into Germane—a little something from his mother’s side that came out from time to time—Spitfire pressed a hoof against his chest and gave him a rough shove so she could step through the doorway. “Your fault for hitting the bottle so hard, Soarin. At least tell me you waited until after you left the Gala,” she said, kicking the door shut behind her.
“Course I did! Who do you take me for, Firestorm?” he quipped, giving a tired smile himself. “Fleet and I left a couple hours after you pulled your little vanishing act with Princess Twilight. Rainbow and a couple of her friends—including Applejack, that mare who bakes those amazing apple pies—joined us at Hops and Barley’s for a few. Made the mistake of getting into a drinking game between Dash, Applejack, Pinkie, and Party Favor.” Soarin gave a theatrical shudder. “Never again. I have no idea where those last two put it and I don’t wanna find out.”
Spitfire snorted. “I’m half proud that you waited, half disappointed that you let a few civvies drink you under the table. This might call for remedial lessons.”
“Bite me,” he said, flicking his tail across her nose. “You didn’t see the stuff I did last night, Spits. That mare is a veritable bottomless pit, and her boyfriend is about the same.” At the sound of a door being pulled open, his ears perked up, suddenly, and he turned to face the room he shared with Fleetfoot.
Fleetfoot dragged her hooves, her head low and scruffy white mane covered her eyes, giving her a look more like a walking corpse than a pony. A pair of white, fluffy earmuffs hung around her neck.
“Morning, Fleety!” Soarin called.
Slowly, she unfurled her wings and lowered her head, as if ready to pounce. “I’m gonna kill you,” she informed him as if talking about the weather. Fleetfoot stopped just in front of him, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. “Twice. First for accepting that challenge, then for talking too damn loud this morning. But first… coffee…”
“Right away, dear.” His smile never faltered as he turned and trotted off toward the kitchen. “Spits, you want some?”
“Sure, I could take another cup.” The familiar clinking of coffee mugs reached Spitfire’s ears, she trotted over to Fleetfoot’s side, giving her Lieutenant a once over. “Sheesh, hon. What time did you guys call it a night?”
With a derisive snort, Fleetfoot turned and made her way to the couch. “I’m not even sure how we made it home! You remember what time it was Soarin’?” She huffed, flicking her tail in agitation. “Ugh! Too damn drunk to even have sex! A chance with you out of the room for the night, where we wouldn’t have to worry about your whining in the morning, wasted!”
Spitfire did her best to hold back a laugh. Seems like I got lucky while the lovebirds were staggering about. “Eh, more important that you two had a good time, I think. And, y’know, we did a lot better managing public image. Especially with a certain prospect.”
“You mean we as in Soarin and me,” Fleetfoot corrected with a wry smirk. “You got a nice, cushy assignment from Princess Celestia. But then you ended up chatting up Princess Twilight and walking out with her.” Her smirk grew into a full, toothy grin.
She tapped her hooves twice against the ground, her ears flicking as she pinpointed the couch—a trick involving echolocation that Spitfire still didn’t quite understand, and couldn’t help but marvel at.
Fleetfoot nodded and sat down on the couch, gesturing to the love seat across from her. “Take a seat. You owe me an explanation.”
“And me!” Soarin called from the kitchen. He trotted toward them, a trio of coffee mugs balanced between his wings. “Don’t forget me, mein Liebe.”
Laughing, Fleetfoot turned her ear toward him and grinned. “Couldn’t do that if I tried, dear.” The moment he was in reach, she leaned forward and nosed against his cheek, simultaneously accepting a mug of steaming coffee. She gave a sniff, a contented sigh escaped her lips. “Mm, you always make it the way I like it.”
“Years of practice.” He kissed the top of her head and passed a mug to Spitfire. “Black as usual, Spits.”
Spitfire nodded in thanks, taking her mug in hoof and inhaling the scent. “Ah! Second cup is almost as good as the first.” Without further ado, she brought it to her mouth and took a long sip. The steaming nectar brought a warmth to her chest and energy to her tired limbs.
Almost as warm as Twilight’s hugs last night, she mused. Though not nearly as fulfilling. Shaking herself, Spitfire pulled out of those thoughts and back into present time. Head out of the clouds, don’t go down that line again until we’re both ready.
“So,” she began, “what do you wanna know?”
“Everything,” Soarin replied. “I caught sight of you getting cozy with Princess Twilight at that corner table, drinking party drinks. And that little show you gave her when you walked away? Hoo boy!” He gave a little ruffle of his feathers. “The hospital’s gonna have a sudden influx of patients with spasms in their neck muscles!”
Fleetfoot flicked her ear toward him, frowning as she raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And just how are your neck muscles after that show, dear?”
He didn’t even miss a beat. “Perfectly fine, mein Liebe. After all, I had the most beautiful mare in all Equestria under my wing, and am fortunate enough that she sits beside me this morn!” Soarin stole a kiss to her cheek, lingering long enough to make Fleetfoot’s feathers fluff up and bring forth a little hum from the back of her throat.
“Flatterer,” she accused half-heartedly, the hint of a rosy blush rising in her cheeks.
“Mama always told me to treat my mare like she was my princess, the only thing you’re missing is a horn.” Another kiss, his lips brushed against the corner of her mouth, expertly teasing her with the promise of more. Pulling away, he turned his attention to Spitfire, leveling her with a stern gaze. “Don’t think all this means you’re off the hook, Spits. Explanation time is now!”
Spitfire raised a hoof in surrender and placed the mug on the coffee table. “All right, fine. Yes, I was asked by Princess Celestia to escort Twi—Princess Twilight,” she hastily corrected herself, cursing internally as she saw Fleetfoot’s ears flick and a tiny smirk start to spread across her muzzle. “It was a simple thing, really. Just hang out with her, talk with her, treat her like a regular mare, and see what sort of relationship came about of it.” She drummed a hoof on the armrest, giving a happy swish of her tail as she thought back to the meeting. “Caught me off guard, but it worked out pretty well. She left quite a bit of leeway as to where to go with it.”
“Wait, wait, wait! Roll it back a bit.” Fleetfoot passed her mug to Soarin, and leaned forward, steepling her hooves. “You say ‘leeway’. Kind of implies that she had a preference as to what sort of relationship came about from it, but accounted for it not working out.” Spitfire could almost imagine her eyes gleaming with her expression.
She figured it out. Damn. With a sigh, Spitfire nodded. “Yeah. She did. Princess Celestia wanted me to try courting Princess Twilight, without making it a blatant set up.” Shrugging, she crossed her hooves over her chest. “I don’t see what the big deal was about—girl’s a nice enough mare, if a bit inexperienced as far as dating goes.”
“Er, far be it from me to question Princess Celestia,” Soarin began, placing his and Fleetfoot’s mugs on the coffee table, “but doesn’t this courtship or matchmaking business seem like it’d be more up Princess Cadence’s alley? And, if you don’t mind my asking, why you, Spits? The three of us only know her through Dash.”
Spitfire made to retort, but stopped herself. Come to think of it, Princess Celestia had been awful tight-lipped as to why she was chosen. Curious.
Princess Twilight Sparkle was a student, that much had been confirmed both by Princess Celestia and the mare herself. Why in Equestria would Princess Celestia choose her?
I do think I recall her going to a few shows while I was going up through the ranks, but she was always there to accompany Princess Celestia. Her brow furrowed, her mind conjured up the visage of a younger Twilight, one lacking wings, standing close by Princess Celestia’s side, almost using her teacher as an obstacle to hide behind. Shy, a bit awkward, much like she had been last night.
And yet, her eyes shone with a bit of something else. Respect? Admiration? Awe?
Perhaps she had a measure of respect for the Wonderbolts’ talent as Equestria’s top flight team, and an auxiliary branch of the military. The latter would certainly make sense, given her brother was Captain of the Royal Guard. As for the former…
Spitfire filed it away for later. Better to ask than make assumptions.
“I’m not entirely sure,” she admitted, answering Soarin’s question after a moment’s introspection. “I didn’t think to ask. The request caught me by surprise, really. I was ready for her to ask me to skip out on the Gala to go on a covert ops mission. Instead, she asks me to court her old student.”
Humming, Fleetfoot tapped her hooves together. “A strange request, but not the worst we’ve had. So, the pair of you left together, and you only just returned. I take it everything went well, then?”
Her memories shifted to those of the night before. Flirting, kissing Twilight’s cheek, talking and learning about one another on their private cloud before sharing their first kiss together, and then another, and another until they simply couldn’t contain themselves.
A flame flickered to life within her chest. Unable to help herself, she fluffed her feathers at the thought of waking up with Twilight wrapped in her wings, how she had to coax her bedmate to roll over with nuzzles beneath her ear, and the adorable little smile that crossed her pretty purple muzzle when Spitfire planted a soft kiss on her cheek before slipping away to take a shower.
“Yeah,” she said, grinning like the cat who caught the canary. “Last night was pretty great!”
“Oh yeah?” Soarin raised an eyebrow. “So, what exactly did you two get up to last night?”
Uh oh. Investigators Fleetfoot and Soarin are coming out. Like they’re my dang parents. Play it cool, girl. Fixing a casual smile on her muzzle, Spitfire leaned back, propping her hind legs up on the coffee table. “Eh, we took a little flight, hung out on a cloud, and chatted.”
Soarin’s eyebrow arched higher. His stare seemed more akin to a parent waiting for their naughty little foal to confess to mischief than a teammate and friend. He’d seen her try to hide her feelings too many times to fall for that old trick.
Can’t blame a girl for trying. “All right, all right. I kissed her.”
His stare bored through her. Fleetfoot began tapping a hind hoof against the tile floor, waiting for her façade to crack.
They knew her far too well. “I kissed her a lot.” Their stares continued, Fleetfoot heaved a sigh and flicked her tail in irritation. “With tongue. And my feathers teasing hers.”
“Is that so?” Fleetfoot said, her voice barely above a murmur. She tilted her head and sniffed, her nostrils flaring. Her body went rigid, her milky eyes shot wide open then narrowed into a glare. “That’s not your usual soap, Spits, or the hotel’s? Twilight’s, perhaps? Did you spend the night with her?”
A scowl crossed her muzzle. Spitfire grumbled under her breath, cursing her Lieutenant’s knack for catching her lies. “Yes. We went back to her room and—oh, don’t look at me like that!” she snapped at the pair. “Yes! I already know we went too far! Twilight and I spoke at length about the matter this morning.”
“On familiar terms with her, are we?” Soarin asked, his expression neutral. “Well, I suppose it fits, given you two experienced a bit of—er, shall we say bedroom turbulence?”
The trio fell into silence. Spitfire brought a hoof to her forehead. “Smack him before I do.”
“With pleasure,” Fleetfoot replied, not even missing a beat as she reached over and cuffed Soarin’s ear. “You idiot!”
“Scheiße!” Clapping his hooves over his head, Soarin quickly scooted away before she could cuff him again for his language. “Dang it, Fleety! It was just a joke!”
“This isn’t the time, dear. And you know that well enough.” Her attention shifted back to Spitfire, her hooves steepled once more. “You know what I’m gonna say, Spits.”
Sighing, Spitfire looked down at her seat cushion and nodded. “I do.”
“I’m still gonna say it.” Her voice was tinged with a mix of sternness and sadness. She knew how much it would hurt.
Spitfire closed her eyes. “Go ahead.”
A heavy sigh, like that of a disappointed mother ready to lecture her naughty filly. “You shouldn’t have slept with her—both for the obvious political reason and for whatever relationship you think you’re gonna have with her now.” She paused, hesitating with her next question. “At least tell me you didn’t get her drunk.”
“No. I had her split a rainbow mixer with me. No alcohol.” Got that going for me.
“Okay, that’s good. You two talked first? That wasn’t you trying to wheedle out of telling us?” Another pause, waiting as Spitfire nodded in the affirmative. “Even better. No way for anypony to claim you took advantage of a drunk princess.”
Just a virgin one, Spitfire chided herself. Her inner voice was starting to sound suspiciously like Fleetfoot as the morning went on. “Look, I talked with her this morning about everything. We’ve agreed to try to hold off on that sort of stuff, and do some more getting to know one another before we… yeah. You know.”
“Yes, we do,” Soarin interjected, casually sliding over to sit beside Fleetfoot again. Though he did seem to keep an eye out in case she decided to get another second shot in as he continued, “Look, I’m not gonna pretend that I support you and Princess Twilight sleeping together after a couple hours of chatting, especially if you wanna make this thing work long-term. But if you two talked it out and agreed on working through it, I’ll support things going forward.” He reached out and took Fleetfoot’s hoof, smiling as he nosed against her cheek. “Cadence knows Fleet and I got together because of a bout of stupidity!”
Fleetfoot giggled, her wings flinched as if to unfurl and cover her muzzle. “I still can’t believe you opened with ‘nice feathers, hot stuff’!”
“It worked, didn’t it?” He shrugged. “Got you laughing, and that’s half the battle. Anyway, Spits, we’re with you on making things work out. Verdammt, there’s no easy way to say this.” Soarin ran a hoof through his mane, his fond smile fell. “How long’s it been since you and Daybreak broke things off? Two years?”
Spitfire let her ears lay flat against her scalp, her wings drooped low. “Three,” she whispered weakly. “She sent me the letter three years ago, Soar.”
A hoof touched hers, rubbing gently against her ankle. “I’m not trying to be mean, Spits, but, gosh, if you could see yourself every time she gets brought up around you or any time you think about her. Three years, Spits, and you’re still like this. When’s the last time you even had a long-term thing with a mare?”
“Daybreak,” she choked out the name, her wings unfurled to wrap around herself. The letter’s words were fresh in her mind, like she’d read them just yesterday.
The hoof left hers to cup her chin, forcing her to look up like she had done with Twilight. “Spits, look at me.” Hesitation gripped her, she cracked open an eyelid to squint at him before slowly meeting his gaze as asked.
Concern, both as a friend and as fellow Wonderbolts, shone in his vibrant green eyes. “Spits, I hate to say this to you, but look at yourself! You never got over her. Everything since then has either been a quick fling or a search to find a mare just like her. That’s not fair, to you or Princess Twilight.”
“No fooling,” Fleetfoot added. “We know how much it hurt, everypony on the team does. But trying to find her in every mare you look at isn’t—“
“I know!” Spitfire snapped, jerking her hoof away from Soarin’s and fixing the pair of them with a glare. Her eyes burned with tears, threatening to spill. “I try! And for the first time in three years, I didn’t! I got an order from Princess Celestia, put on a bright smile, and thought I’d be in for an awkward night. I’d only met her a couple times, one of which wasn’t a good moment for anypony in this room.”
Fleetfoot and Soarin both shared a wince, though the former made sure to mutter a quick apology. Perhaps the hundredth for that debacle alone.
She wasn’t finished. Spitfire had a full head of steam, and they’d pushed a button they knew better than to touch too easily. “She’s smart and genuine. And, by Celestia’s wings, is she awkward as sin when it comes to romance—I had to guide her step-by-step how to position herself for a kiss and I liked doing so because I felt something there! The rest—“ she stopped. Spitfire bit her lip and shook her head, sighing in frustration. “Yeah. I made a mess of things. I should’ve said stop as soon as I noticed her looking a little bit lost when we were making out. I should’ve been lead pony.”
For a moment, the three stayed quiet. Only the sound of their breathing, and the pounding of her heart in her ears remained in the wake of her rant.
Softly, almost nervously, a hoof touched her left forehoof. Her eyes flitted down to find Soarin’s sky blue hoof bend to hold her sunny yellow. And then, another touched her right, Fleetfoot’s teal rubbed comfortingly against her shin.
“We’ve got you, Spits,” Fleetfoot whispered. “Just making sure you’ve got your head out of the clouds. For both of your sakes.”
Spitfire gave a watery smile and nodded. “I know. Thanks, guys.”
Soarin stood and deftly stepped around the coffee table to throw a hoof over her shoulders. “Anytime, Feurball,” he replied, nudging his shoulder against hers. “Just… give us a heads up if you’re gonna break up with her so we can check into witness protection. I don’t want the Royal Guard after my flank, y’know!”
Laughing, Spitfire shared a look with Fleetfoot, both gave each other a nod.
And promptly cuffed his ears.
Twilight never had a chance. The thought of turning tail and galloping down the corridor at full speed, shooting up the stairs, and locking herself in her room until her cheeks stopped burning or her friends’ excitement died down barely even crossed her mind before she found herself trapped in Cadence’s inescapable embrace.
It took her a moment to register a pony moving faster across a room than Pinkie Pie, but somehow Cadence had managed the feat.
Trapped, with Cadence’s powerful hooves squeezing her tight against her barrel, Twilight could do nothing but try in vain to wriggle free, much to her friends’ amusement.
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! Yes!” Cadence squealed, bouncing up and down with each repetition, and adding a little flap at the end. “My little Twilight is finally growing up and finding love! Oh, I’ve waited for this day so long!”
“I know, right!” Pinkie threw in as she pounced and turned it into a hug sandwich, with Twilight the unfortunate filler. She turned to Party Favor, beaming and waggling her eyebrows. “This is so great! We can have a ‘Congratulations On Getting a Great, Big Smooch from Captain Spitfire’ party! Oh! Oh! Or a ‘Congratulations On Getting Your First Girlfriend’ party!”
A light blue aura tugged Pinkie away. Rarity tutted, “My word! At least give the poor mare a little space to breath, Pinkie dear! We can’t just go running about planning a party yet!” At Pinkie’s horrified gasp, she rolled her eyes and floated the struggling mare over to Party Favor. “Party, dear, I do believe this belongs to you. If you wouldn’t mind?”
“Er, yes! I’ll, uh, do the thing.” Chuckling nervously, Party wrapped his hooves around Pinkie’s barrel and kissed her cheek. Like magic, Pinkie’s hooves dropped to her sides and a tiny squee escaped her lips. She nuzzled into his shoulder and let him rub her mane and whisper sweet nothings into her ear.
Her work done, Rarity turned back to Twilight. “Now, darling, though our friend is a bit over enthusiastic, I must agree with Princess Cadence.” She nodded respectfully to the elder princess, then resumed, “This has been long overdue! You simply must tell us everything!”
“Like how you got a kiss from Spitfire after one night!” Rainbow seemed to materialize on Twilight’s right side.
Twilight yelped and made to jump away, but Cadence’s grip was too strong.
No good, she thought. Trapped between a rock and a hard place. Unless…
Rarity didn’t have near the magical ability she did, and Cadence, while powerful in her own right, was just a tad behind in terms of general skill. Of course, she made up for it by outflying Twilight any day of the week, a testament to her pegasus heritage before ascension.
Have to move fast. Twilight lit up her horn. A quick teleportation to her room, then a few locking charms on her doors and windows, and, of course, anti-teleportation wards so Cadence couldn’t simply follow after, sounded like the perfect plan. No way for her to trap me in my room and use her feathers to tickle me until I break if I throw one of those up and maintain it.
Her magic charged, she made to teleport, but found herself on the receiving end of a rather piercing headache. Pain shot through her forehead, as if she’d somehow gotten an ice cream headache. “Ow! Ow! Ow!” she whimpered. Her eyes watered and crossed as she massaged her temples. “What in the world?”
The sound of deep chuckling made her ear flick. She turned to find Shining Armor smirking at her and shaking his head. But her eyes were drawn elsewhere.
Specifically, the pink glow of magic wreathing his horn. He put up an anti-teleportation shield. It was all she could do not to whine. That jerk!
“Now, now, Twily,” he chided, “I know mom taught you how rude it was to teleport out of a room when ponies want to talk with you.” Shining grinned from ear to ear, his eyes alight with mischief. “Why don’t you take a seat right here—“ he patted the cushion to his left “—between Cady and me. We’ve gotta talk about this mare of yours.”
As Cadence released her grip and stepped to the side, Twilight scowled. “You know I could break through your shield if I really wanted to.”
“Oh?” Cadence purred, draping a wing across Twilight’s back and pulling her close. “How about if your big brother and your favorite foalsitter-slash-sister-in-law exploit each and every one of those tickle spots, hm? Especially the one right along your ribs!”
Twilight squeaked as purple tinged tips of her feathers trailed along her side. Instinctively, she tried to squirm away, to duck under Cadence’s wing and backpedal.
A flash of amusement in those purple eyes. Cadence held her tight, her grip with her wings even stronger than her hooves. “Come along, Twily,” she said, leading her toward the table, like she would a much younger Twilight years ago. “Come tell Cady all about your evening! And morning, too!” She nosed against Twilight’s cheek, her smile almost predatory. “I expect details, missy!”
Unable to fight her way out of Cadence’s grip, with her friends’ gazes and amused grins making the fur on the back of her neck stand on end, Twilight frowned and trotted obediently toward the open seat. Never once did Cadence lift her wing off Twilight’s back, even as they sat.
Wing hugs mean something special to pegasi, Twilight thought back to her talk with Spitfire. Memories flitted through her mind—from her fillyhood days, the earliest she could remember Cadence coming over to watch her, wing hugs were a normal thing. The practice became more commonplace as they grew closer, their bond akin to that of sisters.
When Twilight began studying under Princess Celestia herself, those hugs became something a bit more. Whether it was to comfort a little filly afraid of her nightmares, or wrapping her in those immaculate white wings and praising her mastery of a new spell.
Special how, though? Familial? An indication of deep-seeded friendship? Something for lovers? So many questions! I should’ve just said I’d look it up on my own time. Oh well.
A little nudge to her shoulder brought her back to present day. “Sorry,” she mumbled, shaking her head. “Lost in thought.”
“Well, join us in the real world long enough to spill all the juicy gossip on your special somepony!” Cadence commanded with an air of faux sternness. “I can’t put together my couples’ profile if I don’t have all the information!”
“If you wanted a bio, you could just ask Rainbow,” Twilight deadpanned.
Naturally, Rainbow fluffed up her feathers at the mention and took a deep breath, ready to launch into a full-blown recitation of Spitfire’s official profile, only to be cut off by a wave of Cadence’s golden-shoed hoof. “No, no, I don’t mean the silly thing they put on Wonderbolt Derby programs! Silly filly, you know better than that! I want details.” With a flash of teal magic, a quill and notepad popped into existence.
Swallowing a lump in her throat, Twilight ducked her head. Her ears laid flat as she felt her friends’ eyes on her. From Applejack and Rarity’s intrigued grins, to Rainbow’s mix of confusion and excitement, to Pinkie’s utter giddiness and Party and Fluttershy’s sheepish smiles, to Spike’s false gagging, and Shining’s sly smirk.
To the raised eyebrow and tiny smile hidden behind a teacup held aloft in a bright golden glow. Celestia’s brilliant purple eyes seemed to dance with mirth. She held Twilight’s gaze with ease, a silent message:
“Out with it. I’m waiting, little one.”
Heaving a sigh, she resigned herself to her fate. Never thought I’d be the one sitting here. “Well, I accompanied Spitfire to the Gala last night, on Celestia’s request—“ she nodded to the elder princess, who returned the gesture in kind “—for a couple reasons. One, I won’t go into because it may be something Spitfire would prefer to keep a bit quiet, nothing bad though.”
“Heh, friendship problems even at the Gala, eh, Twi?” Applejack chuckled, tilting her stetson back out of her eyes “So, from hangin’ out to kissin’ in the castle. Anypony else think that’s a mite off?”
“Hmm, I dunno,” Shining mused. “I mean, Cady had me listed as her personal guard for a while, so I don’t have much room to talk. Still, though, this is my baby sister we’re talking about, so this just can’t be allowed to stand!” His horn shimmered brighter, an extra layer to the shield spell. A muscle-bound leg was thrown over her shoulders, Twilight found herself pulled tight against her brother’s side. “So, what did you girls end up doing? Other than the obvious, of course.”
Twilight’s thoughts went to her night with Spitfire. Her warm embrace, feathers trailing down her thighs, a hoof rubbing at her core. A burning desire, dampness beneath her waistline. Spitfire’s soft lips meeting hers in a kiss that was gentle, but full of passion and want.
“We talked quite a bit,” she replied, keeping her voice as level as possible. “She got me to try a rainbow mixer for the first time, and that was certainly an experience!”
“Whoa! Really?” Rainbow sat up straight, her mouth curved into a broad grin. “So, all this time I couldn’t get you to try a couple party drinks, and you go right on ahead when a pretty mare saunters up to you at the Gala, eh? I see how it is!”
“Um, Rainbow?” Fluttershy tapped her shoulder. “Twilight has gone out for drinks with us before. Several times. If, um, you don’t mind me saying.”
Rainbow waved her off. “Yeah, yeah, I know she’s gone to Berry’s bar with us, but that was either straight cider or ale. She never did party drinks with us! Just punch or soda or whatever!”
“But punch is a party drink, Dashie! Party and I confirm—punch at a party, totally a party drink!” Pinkie said, with Party Favor nodding solemnly.
“Bah! You know what I mean! Anyway, Twilight, how was it? Did you go for a little rainbow mixed with booze? That stuff’s kind of a zinger if you don’t mix it with some fruit juice, but it’s such a rush!” She licked her lips, her feathers fluffed up.
Blinking, Twilight gave a nervous smile. “Er, no. Spitfire just stuck with a strawberry juice and rainbow mixer—she said something about not wanting to drink alcohol at such an important event. But we’re getting away from the point.” As the others leaned in and the twin grips on her shoulders tightened, Twilight ruffled her feathers. “We talked a little over drinks. She, er, kinda figured me out early on.”
“Oh?” Celestia spoke up. She placed her cup down on the saucer and folded her hooves neatly on the table. “And what, pray tell, did she manage to figure out about you?”
Her smile faltered, she fidgeted in place. Her tail flicked anxiously. “She figured out that I wasn’t exactly experienced in dating, and decided to, er, give me a crash course.” The burning in her cheeks returned at the catcalls from Applejack and Rainbow, and the way Shining arched his eyebrow.
Though none topped Cadence. “Oh?” She hummed, nudging her shoulder against Twilight’s. “All those years I spent trying to get you to listen up so we could find you a nice pony, and not a word of it sunk in? I’m hurt!”
Twilight sputtered. “N-No! It’s not that I didn’t remember what you said!” Oh, I remembered quite a bit. And went quite a lot farther than you advised. “I just struggled with the… execution part of it.” Her ears laid flat against her scalp in a vain attempt to block out Rainbow’s snickering. “She, er, taught me how to flirt, and made me feel like we were just a couple mares meeting at a party—a less formal party!” she hastily added at the end.
“A good way to start, if a bit playful.” Cadence nodded, patting Twilight’s hoof. “Nice of her to try to keep things low key, I think. And how did you do with your flirting lessons? I hope I won’t be expecting any bad notes from your new ‘teacher’.”
Cheeks burning, Twilight huffed. “No, you won’t be getting any notes!” With a quick shift, she managed enough distance to flick her wing across Cadence’s muzzle. “Everything went well!” Some things more so than others. “We left the Gala together, and she took me up to sit on a cloud just outside the city limits. We talked a little bit more, mostly about our hobbies and interests. Speaking of which—“ she turned to Rainbow “—did you know Spitfire likes to read old legends?”
Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, it’s in her bio thing they put out every year. What about it?”
“We talked a little bout a couple stories; Whirlwind and the Dragon of Craggy Peak and ‘Dealings with Diamond Dogs’ from Tales of the Founders, if you’re familiar.” She nodded to Cadence. “Remember how I used to ask you to read that one every night?”
“I do!” Cadence’s eyes lit up, she nuzzled Twilight’s cheek affectionately. “That was your favorite bedtime story—you just loved hearing about how Clover managed to trick the Diamond Dogs into leaving, and how mystified Commander Hurricane was that he didn’t even need to draw his sword! In fact—“ she brought a hoof to her chin, her eyes danced with amusement “—I seem to recall you acting out the parts every so often…”
Her smile strained, her ears burned at her friends’ laughter, and Spike throwing in, “Still does it!”
Traitors. “That aside, yes, I love the story. And she mentioned a like for other classic stories as well, so we might talk about a few someday.” The memory made her smile brighten once more, her tail swished happily. “Perhaps at lunch tomorrow.”
Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Twilight regretted it. She slapped her hooves over her lips, her ears laid flat against her scalp. Oh no… she thought, quailing beneath the hungry gazes of Rarity, Rainbow, Shining, and Spike.
She didn’t dare look down the table at Celestia. Her mentor’s gaze bored into her, though. She could feel it, and almost see the small, seemingly all-knowing smile on Celestia’s muzzle.
But just as the smile that no-doubt graced her mentor’s face made the fur on the back of her neck stand on end, the playful hum sounding from her left made her ears prick up and a block of ice drop into her stomach.
“Really now?” Cadence wrapped a hoof around her shoulders and pulled her tighter, nearly crushing Twilight against her larger frame. “Our little Twilight is finally ready for the dating scene!” With a happy squeal, she hugged Twilight for all she was worth, softly nuzzling their cheeks together. “Oh, I’ve waited for this day for so long! Shiny, you’ll come with us to make sure she doesn’t do something silly like teleport away, right?”
“Of course, Cady.” Twilight glared at her traitorous brother, who returned it with one of his annoyingly cheeky grins. “I’d be delighted.”
“Perfect!” She shifted and leaned across Twilight to kiss Shining’s cheek. “We’re starting straight away! First, we—“
Celestia cleared her throat, everypony turned to face the solar princess. “Happy though I may be that Twilight found a pony she likes well enough to date,” she began, “I would prefer it greatly if you waited until after our meal to go gallivanting off across the city. Seeing all of you, my friends and loved ones, at the same time without some sort of national crisis is a luxury I am so rarely afforded these days.”
Twilight withheld a cheer, settling for an internal “Thank you, Celestia!” along with nearly a hundred praises for her savior and mentor. To the one who so easily rescued her from the clutches of her wicked—but still favorite former foalsitter—sister-in-law and her traitorous big brother best friend forever!
Chagrined, Cadence laid her ears flat. “Er… yes. Sorry Auntie.”
“No need to apologize, dear. I just feel that such an opportunity to enjoy your company is one I’m loathe to surrender.” Her eyes twinkled, her small smile bloomed into a playful smirk that sent shivers running down Twilight’s spine. “Although, I too must express an interest in my dear, sweet former student’s first experience with a relationship.”
Twilight ducked her head as all eyes flitted to her again. The block of ice seemed to freeze her entire being as she caught the grins spreading across her friends’ faces. And why wouldn’t they?
Celestia had all but given them carte blanche.
A tiny whimper escaped her lips. She tried her best to make herself as small as possible when Celestia leaned forward, teacup floating to hover near her lips, and her smirk taking on a more calculating edge.
“Now, Twilight, how exactly did you get from discussing classical literature to that adorable little kiss this morning?”
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Nice chapter. Keep up the good work!
You earned 5 mustaches!
I feel for Twilight and Spitfire both. I can't wait to see what happens as their relationship progresses.
OK twi here is what you do look shinning straight in the eyesand say "we had mind blowing sex" and when he is distracted you teleport the fuck out of there straight to some country that doesn't have extradition orders
7977726
Or a well placed telekinetik Burst to his Flurry Makers to disable him that way without giving away that info and then Teleporting under the bed and setting up all her countermeasures to keep them all away.
Ha! I knew it! Celestia was playing match maker!
Also, that was a good split perspective chapter. Soarin speaking the occasional German phrase or word... Nice touch to flesh him out a bit more.
Again, good chapter, now I am impatient to see how they all react to Twilight's confession.
7977726 do you really believe there's any country in the world that would risk facing a Cadence on a warpath for juicy step by step sexual gossip of her sister in law? That's just below Tirek in the nope meter!
Ah, Soarin and his accent. That takes me back... takes me back... takes me back... takes me back....
Let the meddling commence
I gotta figure that none of them would be to happy to find out that they had sex. Some might, but most would think Spits took advantage of her and get a bit growly towards the Captain.
I do believe that perhaps Twilight already had a bit of a crush on Spitfire and Celestia knew it. That's why she set them up.
Go Soarin! Eat that you French pansies! German is romantic.
So sorry, but it's so nice to see a language other than French get used in a romantic context. Woohoo!
Was this B.F FH or A.D. FH?
So we have Trollestia with mostly good intentions... Run Twilight, overpower Shinnings shield and disappear like a fart in the wind.
To be honest, the only thing I think I don't like about this chapter is how they forced Twilight to fess up like that. Were I in Twilight's shoes, Cadance and Shining Armor would both be nursing some broken or sprained legs. Forcing someone to speak like that- especially for something so petty as gossip- is such a violation of one's right to privacy that it almost feels like rape. It was low of them to bully her into talking like that, and it really just makes the whole thing worse when it's all played off by everyone as though they did nothing wrong.
This is, of course, entirely a personal matter for me. Involving it in your story does no real harm, I promise you; were it not so that I had to deal with being interrogated by family most of my life, I would have probably been laughing at the whole scene. Spitfire's own talk with her friends about the matter was very heartfelt and genuine, and reminds me of my more supportive friends who're dependable and unafraid to tell me when I've messed up on something. Fleetfoot and Soarin' aren't just friends with Spitfire, they're her best friends, and you can really feel that in the talk they have. That's the kind of thing that makes me look forward to each chapter after the last, because there's something that made a good impression, and makes me willing to put time aside and come back to see what's next. I'm eager to see what in the next chapter keeps me as deeply interested in this story; truly, I'm not in it for the shipping at all, this is my genuine attraction to the story itself talking right here.
Twilight needs to drop a flashbang spell on the breakfast table. Some questions and playful teasing are one thing, but jeez ponies, stop marehandling her and acting like you're owed anything out of her. Have a modicum of respect for a friend.
I feel bad fro spitfire, she has one hell of group of people keep twilight safe who will rip her apart is anything bad happens.....
POP SMOKE AND FLEE.
*Pops a flashbang and a smoke and makes a break for it. Windows are perfectly viable escape routes if you have wings*
Lovely story so far!
If Germane is anything like German, the sentence "gehen Brunft einen Kaktus" is very wrong
Better would be "geh und besteig einen Kaktus" or "geh und fick einen Kaktus" (more vulgar)
And it should be "meine Liebe"
You should have
do a spit intake when 
reveals what 'exactly' they did 
7993069 didn't they agree that that would be kept quiet?
Word of advice: Either find a native german speaker, or leave the foreign bits out. This is approaching court martial offense.
The quotation mark is backwards.
Also, just... Twilight's friends and family are way too invasive.
Haha! Celestia cuts straight to the point, wonderful.
It's these small modifications to characters personalities that I absolutely adore in your stories, Carapace. Soarin being half Germane and fluent in it, Fleetfoot utilizing echolocation makes me suspect she's part batpony. It's a great way to add some wonderful depth to otherwise bland characters.
And the conversations felt so... natural and perfect as well.
All these suggestions of how Twilight could escape - all understandable, absolutely, but all she really needs to do is say, "No. I'm not telling you anything. Guess all you want, but the more eager you seem to know, the less I'm going to tell you. My business, not yours."
8282815
I know right. It pisses me off so much when someone in a story displays an serious aversion to saying something because they don't want to, but someone traps them because they wanna know and the person's feelings about being forced to talk about it doesn't matter.
8371232 Like they've weaponised politeness and obligation, so Twilight doesn't feel she's allowed to say no.
I'm just at the beginning of this story and I already love it
btw,
it makes more sense in german this way, even if I never heard the word Brunft before and I'm german
'mein' is for males, for females it should be 'meine'
Just wanted to point it out
I guess there will be more Soarin with his german texts later, would you like me to look over these as well and point out little mistakes?
Going to need to change Spitfire’s response to a grunt or something, because Fleetfoot can’t hear a nod. That being said, if this is actually Soarin talking, then you need to state that.
The German is atrocious. As a native speaker it's really jarring and rips me out of immersion.
9382125 *shrug* It's been two years. I'm too lazy to fix it.
Wait wait wait wait wait, hold on. Could the reason Celestia is so certain Spitfire would be good for Twilight be that she knows first hand what being Spitfire's girlfriend is like?
Soarin': [makes inappropriate joke]
Spitfire: Stwike him vewy woughwy, Centurian!
Fleetfoot: [cuffs Soarin' upside the head] And throw him to the ground, Sir?
Spitfire: Hmm? Yes, thwow him to the gwound!
Fleetfoot: [knocks him off the couch]
8012288
Also, breath should be breathe.
8282815
This.