Out of Love

by Carapace

12. Just Us Mares

There were some aspects to joining Faith in her therapist trade Sure Stroke hadn’t quite expected when she floated the idea two years prior.

The first, of course, was that some of those issues she might be called upon to help with might be a bit more difficult than something like her own—indeed, looking back, it was more than just a little silly of her not to foresee such a thing, but Sure Stroke would chalk that up to not actually witnessing such sessions. Faith, after all, knew better.

The pair sat comfortably in Faith’s living room, side by side in matching pod seats while they looked over the calendar and noted upcoming individual sessions, requests, and openings. It was a chance for her to see the other side of things. Organization was key.

Still, the little filly who only saw Faith around her friends’ house, or finishing up with a client—whether that meant a session or a feeding depended entirely on the client in question—it was quite jarring to see her hunched over the coffee table, her brows furrowed in concentration as she made notes by certain dates and moved names and times about to keep it all neat, orderly, and balanced.

Sure Stroke had to take a moment to stop and gaze upon her mentor, checking for any sign that this could be Aspire in disguise. Alas, there was none. Those shimmering golden locks and eyes were unmistakeable, and Faith showed none of her son’s tells. There wasn’t even a hint of that smile she shared with her nymphs at the corner of her mouth—the one that never failed to send villagers checking their surroundings so they wouldn’t be the next victim.

Her thoughts then turned to Aspire for what must have been the fourth time in as many minutes.

Ever since that exchange with Enticier, her boyfriend had been quiet. Somber.

Not at all himself.

Sure Stroke only just managed to withhold a heavy sigh. As much as Aspire claimed Enticier to be a pest when she’d first met the young Prince, their bond was strong. It had been Aspire’s want to see their friendship maintained, the relief on his face when he saw it realized that always stuck with her.

Hearing that his friend was struggling so—well, Sure Stroke couldn’t say that she needed to imagine it.

She lived it each time she snuck a look at just the right moment. The right time to catch him looking out at the window with that sad frown that didn’t quite belong, close his eyes, and take a deep breath before he affixed a smile to his face and pressed on.

Unfortunately, such staring couldn’t go unnoticed by a Caretaker. Sure Stroke barely noticed the very tips of her tongue flick between her lips, but she did find herself transfixed by those amused eyes. “You taste of amusement and curiosity, dear,” she said. Then, her amusement dimmed. “And melancholy. Care to share the source?”

Her feathers ruffling, Sure Stroke shook her head. “Just a bit of personal worry, really. Other than that, I never really thought there was so much organization and planning that went into the trade. Well, that’s not quite right. I guess there was just this silly filly image I had of you. You were always here whenever we came by, and I never saw all of this.” She waved a hoof over the table. “So I guess I just assumed your patients just wandered in or something.”

“Well, there are some of those.” Faith tapped a hoof near a note which read Free and said, “I try to leave myself a few hours each day so I can receive unexpected visitors. Warm usually brings them in if he tastes anything alarming. If not, Queen Euphoria will either send them my way or coax them to stay for tea while Breezy sneaks out the back door to fetch me.”

“That almost makes it sound like you tag team with her.”

“In a way? I suppose I do.” Her mentor paused in her work to tilt her head and wrinkle her snout, an amused smile spreading across her lips. “You know, I’ve never really thought of it that way. It was just always sort of a system we’d worked out together, since we had similar interests as nymphs.”

Sure Stroke’s ears twitched. Had they? Well, they were around the same age, come to think of it. Perhaps it wasn’t that difficult to see. “So, would that mean I might find myself a member of this team now?” she joked. “And should I expect Breezy to make a call or two for me?”

Faith paused a moment to think. “Well, I don’t know if I would expect that so soon,” she replied slowly. “Maybe after some time when you’ve taken more patients on your own. Along with Sleet and Snow Flurry,” the changeling added, her golden eyes glittered. “I saw you taking care of them during your first session, by the by. You were a natural.”

Her cheeks flushing at the praise, the young mare ducked her head, her feathers fluffed as her wings began to unfurl as if to cover her face. But she held strong and resisted the urge.

She could not, however, help the shaky smile which played upon her lips. “I just did what I thought was best,” she muttered. “Sleet was a … well, I shouldn’t say she was a mess, that’s not kind at all. She was …”

“Vulnerable,” Faith supplied with a nod. “She was quite vulnerable, as was Snow Flurry.”

“Yes. That’s a much better way to put it. Thank you.”

“Of course. If anything, it’ll help internalize that our patients aren’t here because they’re a ‘mess’, a ‘wreck’, or ‘off their rocker’, as it were. But because something’s hurt them dearly and they’re vulnerable, so they’ve come seeking help.”

Vulnerable. Seeking help. That was much better, much kinder. Hay, it was more considerate on the whole.

And it lined up well with that creed etched into the woodwork above the gate.

“To judge by heart and not by kind
To treat all equal, turn away none
To open our hearts and minds
And that no creature will be shunned

"So that no creature be alone
These are the rules which we abide
To make a haven, and a home
For everyone who seeks Respite.”

Words written ages ago by Queen Serenitatem, the founder of Respite, herself. A creed the Caretakers had crafted out of the lessons learned from their time in the company and alliance with the Sainted Ones, a time when they lived in a crystal paradise full of love and happiness, and entered an age of prosperity never seen before.

Or since.

Vulnerable and seeking help, yes. That was quite in line both with the trade and their creed.

And, as a mare of Respite, her creed, now.

Sure Stroke kept quiet, watching carefully as Faith resumed organizing their monthly calendar. Among the names, she could pick out a few she recognized here and there, some villagers, some newcomers from that group session they’d hosted. Sleet and Snow Flurry, both to her relief and a hint of sadness, had an appointment coming up next Thursday—relief in that they felt comfortable enough to return, sadness for rather obvious reasons.

Then, another name seemed to leap off the page. She squinted, leaning in close as if she thought it to be a trick of the light.

It wasn’t. “Altocumulus?” Sure Stroke whispered.

Faith turned to smile at her. “Yes, your cousin did a lovely job with his painting the other day. Though he was a bit tight-lipped, to say the least, on what was bothering him.” She sighed and shrugged. “A bit disappointing, but nothing I’ve not seen before. He tasted a bit …” Pausing a moment, she rolled a hoof through the air in a forward circle. “Melancholy, would be the best way to describe it.”

“About what?” came the question. Wracking her brain a moment, she tried to think back and recall if she’d had the chance to steal a peek before the group had taken their artwork home. She hadn’t. Alto had tucked it under his wing, the canvas facing in so none could see, and scurried back to the house he shared with Maple. “I didn’t get to see what he’d painted.”

“It was quite a lovely scene, but he was rather vague about what it was exactly.” Pursing her lips, Faith again looked off to nowhere in particular and thought hard. “It was some of cloud—you’ll have to forgive me, I don’t recall the species even though he told me several times. My mother never could quite get those to stick, I’m afraid.” Her cheeks colored a deep black, she coughed into her hoof. “In any case, it was a lovely little scene with a cloud and a rainbow waterfall off the side, but that’s about all I could tell. Perhaps a spot back home he used to visit?”

Sure Stroke hummed a low note in affirmation. There were several spots throughout the cloud city with such landings, each with rainbow falls as well. It was part of the old architecture, culture steepled with over a thousand years of warrior tradition and a firm belief in the intrinsic beauty of the weather. If the unicorns could show their magic in each stone and archway in Canterlot and the earth ponies in the sprawling towns and hoof-tilled soil, the pegasi would do the same with that which inherited from their ancestral homeland.

And Alto made habit of visiting several over the years, and would carry on about how the clouds spread out across the horizon, or the sunset looked in the distance. Though, most often, he would whine that there wasn’t a nice, big storm below for him to look down upon and watch as the weather teams literally kicked them into gear. But that was just the thing—Alto thinking about cloud scenery and weather was like a fish swimming.

It was a constant truth of the universe. But it didn’t tell her why he needed another session.

“He didn’t tell you anything?” Sure Stroke asked, just to confirm.

Faith shook her head sadly. “Just that he felt like drawing clouds because they always made him feel better. I asked him if he and Maple were doing well, just because I know some young ponies tend to retreat to something they know for comfort when relationships sour or hit a rough patch.”

“And?” Her soft violet ears perked up. A cold tightness seemed to grip her chest.

“I don’t think I’ve seen him look so alert any time other than a major storm or Maple sneaking up on him,” Faith replied with a bit of a chuckle. “He told me of course they weren’t having problems, scolded me for even thinking such.” Waggling her ears, she gave a fanged grin and added, “I even got a lecture on how sweet and pure Maple was. I never knew.”

That certainly sounded more like the Alto she knew and loved. Evasive about one thing, overly detailed about another.

Just not weather, for once.

Perhaps she could arrange to sit down with them during that session and see what was eating at him.

“Speaking of melancholic pegasi,” Faith mused. “Personal worries? I know evasion tactics when I see them, young mare.”

Sure Stroke ducked her head. “Am I that transparent?”

“I raised two troublesome nymphs and I’ve served as a therapist for years, Sure Stroke. You may as well have put up a sign. That said—”

Three loud, short knocks upon the front door drew their conversation to a sudden halt. Faith’s ears twitched. “Hold that thought.” She rose from her pod seat and set her pencil down on the coffee table, her brows furrowing as she trotted over to greet their visitor.

While Sure Stroke didn’t rise, she did turn in her seat and lean to the side, curious to see who might have come to call upon them. Unfortunately, her seat was just out of the line of sight of the door, so all she could really get was a glimpse of Faith’s braided golden tail, shimmering in the sunlight, and her left leg.

“Oh, hello, Snow Flurry!” she heard Faith greet in a warm, friendly tone. Her ears twitched and wings nearly unfurled in shock. “I didn’t expect to see you by today. How are Sleet and the fillies?”

“They’re, um, doing well.” Again, Sure Stroke’s ears twitched, this time at the hesitance in the mare’s voice. “I just wanted to stop by for a bit and see if that young mare was around. Sure Stroke, I believe. We’d met during the celebration as well.” A cough sounded, then she added, “Or if you might know where I could find her?”

Faith let out a hum. “As a matter of fact, I do. She’s—”

“Right here!” Sure Stroke called as she hopped out of her seat and hurried around the corner to stand in the entry way with her mentor, and aimed a smile at Snow Flurry. “Hello! Yes, sorry, we were just looking over a few things. I didn’t expect you today, Snow Flurry.”

“Er, just Snow is fine, Sure Stroke.” Snow Flurry’s ears drooped. “I didn’t realize I was interrupting something important. I could come back later, if that’d work better? Or maybe just … schedule something?”

“We were just looking over the schedule, actually,” she replied with a smile. “I think other than that, this was meant to be walk-in time, right, Faith?”

Her mentor’s brows raised. “Indeed,” Faith replied with an approving nod. Then she turned to smile at Snow Flurry. “So no harm done at all. If you’d like, I could offer use of my kitchen. You’re both welcome to anything in the cupboard if you’re hungry or thirsty. For a tad extra, of course.”

A tad extra, meaning love. A note which made Snow Flurry’s smile falter. She’d paid for the last session with bits, still uneasy about love.

A flash of pink heralded a tiny frown. “Er, bits would work also,” Faith amended. “Just enough to cover the next market purchase, I mean.”

“Oh! Oh, thank you,” Snow Flurry replied, breathing a relieved sigh. “Sorry. I know you mean well, it’s just—”

Sure Stroke stepped closer and patted her shoulder. “We understand. Faith’s family helped me get over my awkwardness about feeding too. Along with Queen Euphoria and her partners.” Smiling brightly, she gestured back out the door, toward the sunny afternoon. “How about we take a walk? Or a flight? Whatever you like.”

To her delight, Snow Flurry’s ears perked up and wings rustled the instant the word “flight” passed through her lips. The mare ducked her head sheepishly. “Flying around the Nimbus Heights with Sleet and … flying together around our old neighborhood always helped me clear my mind,” she corrected herself.

“Well then.” Sure Stroke slipped by and motioned for her to follow her down the porch steps and into the warm sunlight. “Let’s take a little flight around the village.”

---

Twin shadows of pegasi seemed to race along the calm surface of Lake Neighagara, vaulting over fishing boats and ponies alike, who made sure to look up and wave at the pair above.

Sure Stroke took extra care to keep pace with Snow Flurry as they neared the northern shore, just west of Neighagara Falls, but allowed the mare enough room so she didn’t feel crowded. A good couple wing lengths, maybe even a third, off her right side was suitable distance, enough so that she could keep an eye for signs that Snow might be ready to talk or struggling.

Or nearing a breakdown. Faith had hissed something about a patient once having such an episode in mid-air. It took the combined efforts of Queen Euphoria’s therapy sessions and Cool Breeze’s flight rehab to get the poor mare to a state she could fly without a panic attack.

And, thus, how Morning Dew fell in love with the pair, she mused with a hint of a wry smile as she began to bank wide toward the Falls, stealing the chance to get a full look at her flight companion’s face.

Snow Flurry banked with her, but she seemed more like she was just going through the motions. The mare bit her bottom lip, her gaze altered between the lake below and somewhere off in the distance. It was like her body was present, while her mind was a hundred miles away.

Though, if Sure Stroke had to hazard a guess, it was back in whichever house her family was staying. Back wherever Sleet awaited her return.

With a small smile, she decided to channel a bit of Esalen’s precociousness, and make the first move. “Would you like to land?” she asked, waving at the little clearing near the Falls nestled in a covering of trees and foliage so no curious eyes could see or think to eavesdrop. The very same Aspire had taken her for their first date.

The perfect place to talk and let the mare get things off her chest without fear of being overheard or judged.

Nodding, Snow Flurry altered her path, turning northeast so she could lead Sure Stroke into the clearing. They hit the ground in a brisk trot, the soft, untrodden soil and warm grass tickled against Sure Stroke’s frogs in a most pleasant feeling, and spurred memories of that date, and several others shared on this same spot.

For Snow Flurry, she pushed them aside and focused. Sure Stroke chose a spot on the grass to sit, then rested back on her haunches, motioning for the other mare to join her. “So,” she began, “what’s on your mind? Has everything been okay since our last session?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Snow Flurry bobbed her head. “Sleet has been … well, she still hovers a little around the girls, but I didn’t expect one session would just fix everything like magic, of course. And she still has her moments from time to time, and keeps trying to keep them out of sight of the girls.”

“But they notice?” Sure Stroke guessed.

The mare sighed and let her wings droop. “It’s hard to miss. I love Sleet and I’d do anything for her, but she’s got a terrible poker face,” Snow Flurry replied. “It’s not much for Hail or Sunshower to notice one of their mothers sighing and looking out a window, even if she forces a smile.”

This was good at home? Sure Stroke fought back the urge to cringe. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can—”

“She’s been talking a little more, though.”

Her thoughts ground to a halt. Blinking, Sure Stroke tilted her head to one side. “How do you mean that, if you don’t mind my asking?” Arching a brow, she asked, “Had she not been very talkative before?”

Snow Flurry shook her head. “I didn’t mean at all. Sorry. She’s never been shy about talking, but with feelings so close to home …” she trailed off, her eyes fell to the grass beneath her rump. “She tries to hide it behind a smile, or compensates by hovering around Hail Storm and Sunshower and me like she’s afraid somepony—someone—might take us away next.”

“Ah. I see.” The pieces began to come together. The pained look as she leaned down to nuzzle their manes and whisper in their ears, how she pressed against Snow Flurry’s side and wept during their art therapy session, right after painting that empty cradle.

Then how frantic she’d been during the long night …

A shiver ran through Sure Stroke’s body. Banishing the memory to the back of her mind, she forced herself to hold a sympathetic smile. “So, she’s opening up a little more?”

“A little would be generous, but yes,” Snow Flurry replied. A tiny, crooked smile tugged at her lips. “I don’t know if I should be telling you this, but we both sort of had a bit of a time on Sunday. Ended up shooing the girls off to go play with that nice foal—nymph, I meant—nymph they danced with. Cordial, I think?”

“Cordial Tidings, yes.”

“Thank you. He’s a sweetheart, that one. So caring and polite whenever he visits. The girls just adore him.”

A sweetheart? Cordial Tidings? Sure Stroke chuckled under her breath, a fond smile playing upon her lips. We’ll see if she thinks so if he ever decides to slip blue dye in her tea like he and Flit did mine a few months ago. The little jerks. “I’m glad to hear they’ve made friends so soon. It took me a while to adapt and join in.” She reached over and patted Snow Flurry’s hoof. “But that’s a tale for another day. How was your talk after they left?”

Her feathers ruffling, Snow gave a rueful smile. “It took some time, there were more than a bit of tears shed. On both our counts. But, she talked about how she was feeling, finally. About Warm, about Cold, how afraid she was. It was painful. But good for her, I think.” The mare clutched a hoof-full of grass and twisted it. “I … well, you heard from Sleet how much Cold and Warm meant to her. But our husband was … well, he was our world. Always there when we grew up in Nimbus Heights, there when other relationships soured, when we graduated from university, you name it. And even after we decided to try the three of us, and convinced him it could work, he was our rock whenever the weather went wild and turned foul.” Pausing a moment, she sniffled and brushed the back of her hoof across her face. “When we lost him, I just went numb. Sleet took on looking after the girls and Cold and trying to keep me stable, bottled it all up as best she could so somepony in our house would smile and be strong for the others.”

With every word, every breath, Sure Stroke felt a cold lance pierce her chest and dig deeper, twisting this way and that. Habit demanded she speak up, but her throat tightened and silenced her voice before she could even choose the words.

If she even could’ve chosen words in that moment.

“Cold was like his last gift to us,” Snow continued, barely above a whisper. “He had his daddy’s eyes, his face, his coat. Her nose and mane, though—powder blue with goldenrod coat, if you’d believe. But still beautiful.” She fell silent a moment, her shoulders shook as she squeezed her eyes shut. “I wish he could’ve come with us and seen this place.”

Stab. Twist.

Sure Stroke gently brushed her hoof against Snow Flurry’s blue-white coat. “I think I can say all of us would’ve loved the chance to meet him,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry for your losses, Snow.”

“Thank you.” Another sniffle. The mare wiped her hoof across her face again to chase away unshed tears. Drawing in a deep breath, she held it and let out a slow, heavy sigh. “I can’t pretend I feel the same pain as Sleet in losing him, since Cold was her foal by birth, but I won’t lie and say my heart didn’t shatter when that doctor told us they couldn’t save him. It was like everything hit at once, first Warm, then Cold, and just as I managed to get my head above water, I had to catch Sleet before she drowned in grief. Not to mention the girls.”

By love, only a few months after losing him. “You’ve been strong for the three of them,” she noted. “You were strong for them the first day here, too.”

“I wasn’t sure how long we’d be here—I’m still not.” A visible shudder ran through her body. “They need friends. Thank Celestia for that boyfriend of yours, or they might not have met Cordial.”

Her feathers fluffed despite the dour mood. Sure Stroke patted her shin and said, “I’m sure he’d be happy to hear he helped.” Something nagged at the back of her mind, the conversation with Aspire under her old sketching tree.

The day she’d laid everything out and asked that he look out for Hail and Sunshower.

Biting her lip, Sure Stroke let her eyes flit away. “I should confess at this point that I talked to him the other day after your therapy session.”

Though she wasn’t looking, she could feel Snow’s eyes upon her again.

“I, um,” she trailed off, her hoof leaving Snow’s for the first time since their talk began. “He’s their teacher, so I wanted him to look out for them. Just to be sure someone was there for them while you and Sleet were getting help.”

“I see.” Snow Flurry gave a low hum. Unsure, no doubt.

Sure Stroke turned to face her again, and hastened to ease her worry. “He won’t gossip or spread things around the village, I promise. His mother is Faith, he and Esalen know better.”

“His … sister, right?”

“Yes, that’s the one.” With a shaky smile, she added, “The only one he’ll tell is Abacus, his mentor, since they both teach the class. The village takes this sort of thing seriously. Very seriously.”

Snow Flurry gave her wings a nervous rustling, but nodded. “I understand. Thank you, then. For asking him to look out for my girls.” After a shaky breath, she added in a whisper, “And thank you for the other day. I know it was only a little, but it helped my wife start to open up again.”

The knife in her chest seemed to draw back just a little. Enough that she could feel a little sliver of relief fill the gaps.

But there was one thing still worrying her. Something she’d noticed during her first therapy session day, and confirmed a moment ago.

She shifted closer to Snow Flurry, moving into a kneeling position so she could look into the mare’s eyes. “I’m glad I could help her,” Sure Stroke said. “But now, I think there’s someone else who needs to learn that it’s okay to open up again.”

Blinking, Snow Flurry made to draw back. “I’m sorry?” It must’ve been habit, a trained response honed so her family would only see her smile falter for a split second. “I don’t—”

“If I may,” Sure Stroke interrupted, “I may be new to this, but it seems like you and Sleet both have a habit of putting on a face and trying to hide how you feel when the other is hurting. Trying to protect them, at the cost of your own pain.”

“That’s … part of being in love,” Snow Flurry whispered. “I owe her this after how she helped me. She needs the help, not me.”

The knife twisted further. “Yes. Yes, she does. But so do you.” Sure Stroke squeezed her hoof in comfort. “You both do. And it’s not a bad thing at all to admit it.”

Again, Snow Flurry shifted, her gaze fell to the grass again. “I can’t. Not yet.” She shook her head. “Sleet needs me to be strong this time.”

“You can let it out. Right here,” she whispered. “Sleet won’t have to see or hear.”

Uncertainty flashed across her face. Snow Flurry’s ears splayed and laid flat against her mane, and she hung her head low. But she made no move to refuse or speak up.

Which left it up to Sure Stroke to pull her in close and hold her tight. She could feel the tremble in Snow Flurry’s shoulders, the unsteady breathing in her chest. “It’s okay, Snow,” she said. “You can let it out.”

The dam burst mere seconds after the words had left her lips. Tears of grief and agony unmatched stained her violet coat, a pair of hooves clutched her tight around the shoulders, enough to rob her of breath.

None of it mattered.

Nothing could compare to the pain the wailing mare in her hooves had felt for so long.

They stayed in that clearing together until just after noon. Sure Stroke never once left her patient without at least a hoof held in comfort, nor did she deny a hug when needed.

Who could?

Comments

[Archlyn]

[JMP]

This was a beautiful chapter.

[Spamotron]

Good work Doodle.

Say Carapace I’m trying to remember something from the previous stories but don’t know how to easily find which story/chapter it’s in to look it up.

I remember there are four known hives of changelings. The Caretakers our protagonists (special ability: enhanced empathy). The Enchanters the hive Respite interacts with the most (special ability: advanced mind magic). The Locust the villainous pre-reformed hive from the show (special ability: never directly said, but presumably the extreme shapeshifting the have in the show based on your Thorax stories). The 4th hive I only half-remember. Something about being the most paranoid, hiding in the wilderness on the edge of civilization, and grasshopper legs?

Who are the last hive again?

A side observation to the above, apparently mixed heritage changelings are hax. Aspire and Esalen appear to have the full range of emotion-sensing abilities as full Caretakers but also have some of the enhanced mind magic of an Enchanter on top of that. If they were PCs in an RPG I would call munchkinism.

[Carapace]

9895432 The fourth hive was the Marauders, and they don't hide so much as they do journey as gypsies and get their love through entertainment and acts of kindness. They primarily reside in Hollow Shades, similar deal with those ponies as the ones in Respite.

And to be fair, I believe it was canonically stated somewhere that Beguile, Esalen and Aspire's grandfather, was skilled enough to rival the royal Enchanters, and his leaving was something that stunned the hive. To the point that Enticier has admitted that if he could bring one of Beguile's line back to Paradise, it would be a major feather in his cap, even if he didn't give a damn about that.

[Drahciruohz]

D: that’s a lot of feels in this fuzzy love bug story. Great chapter as always.

[keroko]

Ouch, grief. Never an eady emotion to tackle. Sure Stroke managed this particular bottle of grief quite gracefully.

Now to see whether she and het smug boyfriend can help their wayward enchanter friend as well.

[Nira Lightshine]

Are we ever going to find out how warm and cold died

[Lysander Shadowheart]

I'm not sure what to truly say. The last two chapters have been that good. I don't have the words to describe how sad I feel to see this example of grief and pain, while the suspense of what is happening with Enticier. Very interested in seeing what will happen next.

[Nira Lightshine]

I wish this would update more

[-newt-]

Do you have an ETA on the next chapter?