Secrets

by bahatumay

Desperate Times

Lyra continued running, running with energy she didn't know she'd had. She was getting tired and paranoid, not a good combination. She didn’t even know where she was going.

The golden glint of royal guard armor made her stop. For the briefest of moments, she was sure she was saved.

But then she skidded to a stop. Bon Bon’s warning of crooked guards flashed through her head again. Instead of approaching, she darted into an alleyway and peeked out.

And not a moment too soon. She saw her best friend being loaded into a barred wagon, her head lolling. She was clearly unconscious.

Lyra stepped backwards, her heart racing. What had they done to her? Had they done anything to her? Maybe they were innocent and something else had found her?

One of the other guards glanced at her and his eyes paused on her. They widened ever so briefly.

Like he recognized her.

He shifted to step forward, and Lyra wheeled around and started running again, fear giving her strength.

She darted through the streets, not daring to look backwards. Where she was going, she had no idea; she just knew she had to run.

And then she gasped as a pair of hooves seized her from behind.

---

The guardspony peered through the window. He’d heard a squeal, definitely female. Was it her?

He saw a baker in a wheelchair, by the sink, washing her hooves and clearly grumbling irritably. A tray lay dropped on the ground.

He smirked and kept walking. He’d find her.

The baker waited a few seconds longer, and then turned off the water. “Alright, it's clear.”

Lyra extracted herself from the pile of flour bags. “Thanks,” she said, shaking her head to fluff out her mane. “I owe you one.”

The baker waved a hoof dismissively. “It's fine. I saw you running and, well, that particular guard gives me the creeps.” She shuddered. “You didn’t look like a bad pony.”

“I’m not, and I don’t think he was up to anything good,” Lyra agreed. Now that she was safe and her heart rate had started to slow, she glanced around, suddenly noticing the scorched floors. They looked oddly familiar, like Fleur’s after the attack there. “What happened here?”

“Long story,” the baker said wryly. “Baking accident.”

“Did Bon Bon tell you to say that?”

“Bon Bon?”

“Sweetie Drops?” Lyra tried. Maybe this mare was actually a monster, too?

She squinted. “Blue and pink mane, three candies on her flank?” she guessed.

Lyra nodded.

She smiled. “Now I’m really glad I saved you. Let's just say she's welcome to anything in my shop…”

Lyra smiled. What a grateful pony.

“…any time she comes back.”

Lyra blinked. Oddly grateful.

Still, she wasn't about to question this. She had more important concerns. “She was captured, did you see that?”

The baker bit her lower lip and shook her head. “Oh, no,” she breathed.

“I have to get her back. Can you help me?”

“I am in a wheelchair,” the baker hissed. “What help do you think I’d be?”

“Are you not one of her…” Lyra sought for a good euphemism, “friends, in, uh, secret places?”

“No!” she squeaked. “Well, y- yes,” she amended, “but no! I am a lamia, and we don't get involved in this kind of stuff. We are cuddlers, not fighters. And we don't eat ponies anymore.” She paused and her eyes flicked to the side ever so briefly. “And if we did—and I’m not saying that we do!—they wouldn’t be alive or anything like that.” She shook her head. “I'm a baker. I make bread, and rolls, and loaves, and cakes, and sometimes pastries. I don't fight. You'd need an active predator, like a vampony or something.”

Lyra blinked. She knew a vampony. An older, and therefore stronger, vampony.

The lamia’s eyes narrowed. “I don't like the look on your face.”

“I don't like the idea in my brain,” Lyra admitted. She exhaled through her nose. “But I'm not seeing any other option. I can't leave her there.”

“Well, if it's the last time I'm going to see you…” She spread her forelegs. “Can I have a hug?”

Lyra stepped forward. “Sure. I could use one.”

The baker wrapped her hooves around her. It was snug and comforting. For a snake, she was actually pretty warm, and Lyra sank into the hug. “Ooh. This is nice.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” The baker leaned down and affectionately nuzzled her cheek. “But it will get you a free roll on your way out.”

---

Lyra inhaled. This was craziness. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. She was sneaking into a party. She was actually sneaking into a fancy party. She groaned. The roll had been light, buttery, and fluffy; but her stomach still felt like she’d eaten a rock instead.

Fancy Pants had a fancy house to go along with his aforementioned pants, with a huge back wall. This would be a problem, were Lyra not a native of Canterlot.

But she was, born and raised. And when she was younger, she and a few other friends had sneaked in to a few parties themselves, when they probably should have been studying. Lemon Hearts had been particularly daring during these escapades. She had always been the first to jump, the first on the fence, the first to slide, even when it got her in trouble. Or stuck somewhere. That little incident with the beaker in magic kindergarten came to mind. Or that time they’d tried to sneak in to a big Hearth’s Warming party and Lemon Hearts had slipped off the wall and landed head-first in a snowbank, where she’d quickly been buried up (or was it down?) to her belly button. They’d all been laughing too hard to lift her out with magic, even Twilight. Even just the memory of her hind legs kicking desperately brought a little smile to Lyra’s face.

So Lyra tried to channel the successful part of her inner Lemon Hearts as she leaped up on the public fence. She made her way along, trying to look as sneaky as possible as she made her way over to the residential areas.

Eventually, the walls grew taller and the houses grew fancier, and her heart started pounding as the ground seemed that much further away. She lay down and crawled along the top, keeping low, her belly hugging the top so as to keep her profile small. She imagined Minuette there, cheering her on with her almost excessive cheerfulness.

And it worked. When she worked up the nerve to look around, she found herself halfway across the fence. She allowed herself a small smile and kept scooting.

The sound of the party reached her ears before she could see it. She recognized it, of course. Lots of light chatter, light classical music, and only vague smells of food. Nothing like the bashes Pinkie Pie threw.

Finally, she made it to the party itself. She poked her head around and checked to make sure she wasn’t being watched. When she was convinced she wasn’t (which didn’t take long; these kinds of ponies were too busy watching each other), she began to descend. Slowly, carefully, she slid her hindquarters off the wall, holding on with her forelegs. She didn’t want to use magic, as the light would draw attention to her.

As if her swaying hindquarters and long tail wouldn’t do that already.

She dropped to the ground, and squealed as she found herself inside a bush. She shook her head. That wouldn’t be good.

Sure enough, when she stepped out, there was a couple staring at her. A very well-dressed couple. Lyra was suddenly very much conscious of the fact that she was naked at this party. She didn't even have a hat. She quickly brushed off the leaves. “Sorry. I was… looking… for the, uh, back door,” she lied. Internally, she winced. That was weak. Twinkleshine was always faster at thinking on her hooves.

Still staring blankly, the stallion raised a hoof and pointed.

“Thank you,” Lyra said and quickly walked off.

She scanned around the party, hoping she was blending in but doubting it. She should have said she tripped into the bushes, that would have made more sense. But she was still naked. A wild thought of st- borrowing somepony’s hat while they were distracted ran through her mind.

But thankfully, nothing like that needed to happen; she spotted Fleur alongside Fancy Pants, chatting lightly (and both very well-dressed). It was now or never. Taking a quick steadying breath, Lyra stepped forward, her heart pounding in her chest.
Fleur saw her approach. “Why, good evening,” she started. Her eyes flicked ever so briefly over Lyra’s body.

Channeling her inner Celestia, Lyra spoke. “Good evening,” she returned. “I was wondering if I may have a word with you, in private.”

Fleur parried. “I do appreciate your boldness. But this is such a lovely party; I hardly want to leave.”

“It's… urgent,” Lyra said. Her face scrunched, suddenly realizing that she did not know how to express this so Fleur could understand without letting everypony else know.

But apparently this was enough. Fleur’s eyes widened ever so briefly. “I see,” she whispered. She turned back to Fancy Pants and gently nuzzled him. “Fancy, darling, I’m afraid a little matter has come up. I’ll need to speak with my little unicorn friend here. You don’t mind, do you?”

Fancy Pants looked at her and smiled. “My dear Fleur, you’re a grown mare. You certainly don’t need my permission.” He leaned in close, offering a bit of affection of his own. “But do hurry back, please,” he added in a whisper. “You know how much I miss you when you're gone.”

“It’s not as much as I miss you,” Fleur answered, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Lyra bit her lower lip. They were cute together.

Fleur led her down the hall, then lifted a tapestry to reveal a small private alcove, out of sight of everypony. Lyra wouldn’t have noticed it.

Once inside and hidden from view, Fleur turned to her. “What can I do for you, little one?”

“I need your help to get Bon Bon out of jail.”

Fleur was taken aback. Whatever she’d expected, it hadn’t been that. “Out of jai-?”

“Tonight,” Lyra butted in. “Like, now.”

Fleur processed this, her beautiful face twisting in thought. “That’s quite the tall order,” she said loftily. “But let us suppose that I’m willing to help. What do you have to offer me in return?”

Lyra gulped and held her head high. “Myself.”

Fleur chuckled. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

“What?” Lyra gasped.

“It’s just… you’re adorable, don’t get me wrong; but I am simply not of that persuasion. Furthermore, I'm in a committed relationship. If you were thinking of your visit to my house, I only flashed you because you were looking so cute and flustered; I really didn't mean anything by it. And even if I were, this is hardly a romantic setting.” Fleur faux-pouted. “You didn’t even offer to take me to dinner first, and you’re already talking about lifting my tail.”

“Wha-? No, me! I’m offering you my blood!” Lyra hissed.

Fleur froze. Slowly, she looked around, making sure they were truly alone, and then looked back at Lyra, sizing her up, eyes flicking all around her as if seeing her in a new light. She stepped forward, moving so quickly she almost seemed to have teleported next to Lyra, who couldn't help but shy away. “Willingly?” she whispered hungrily.

“I’ll do anything for her,” Lyra said, hoping her voice wasn't shaking as much as she thought it was. “Even… even this.”

Fleur nodded. She stepped forward and gently lifted Lyra’s head into position with her hoof. “A- are you certain?” she asked softly.

Lyra licked her lips, but she stayed strong. “Promise to help me, and you can have me.”

Fleur leaned in close, her breath coming even faster now. “I promise. Thank you,” she whispered huskily. “Don't worry, darling, you won’t feel a thing.”

Lyra gulped. “Just do it,” she said tersely.

Fleur leaned down and Lyra could feel her warm breath on her neck. She felt a slight pressure, like the pokings she felt after the dentist pony had numbed her mouth, and then she couldn’t feel anything.

Her neck felt cool, and she could swear that blood was trickling down from somewhere. But Fleur had been telling the truth; she couldn't pinpoint from exactly where or if anything were actually happening. She was just there. All she could do was sit still, and wait.

And listen to the gentle sounds of Fleur swallowing her blood.

Right at the point where Lyra felt like she was getting lightheaded and that she'd have to sit down, Fleur pulled back, swallowing one last time. Almost tenderly, Fleur licked up the blood that had overrun, and pressed her lips against the site before applying direct pressure with her hoof. “Thank you, little one,” she whispered throatily into her ear. “Your blood is… mmh, exquisite.”

Lyra felt a bit weak, like when she’d been running for a while and hadn’t had enough water beforehoof. Still, important questions swirled in her mind. “I’m not going to become a vampony now, am I?”

Fleur laughed softly as she pulled back. “Not unless you drink my blood,” she answered. “And then you have to die before it leaves your system before you can come back as a vampony. It’s a rather uncomfortable process and a bit risky, actually. I can’t say I recommend it.”

Lyra gulped, briefly wondering how Fleur had become a vampire; then shook her head. “And Bon Bon…?”

Fleur nodded. “I am a mare of my word. Your blood for your friend’s freedom.”

Lyra nodded. “So how are you going to do it?”

Fleur paused and tapped her chin. “Well, I can’t be seen; but perhaps I don’t have to be.” A slow smile spread across her face. “Let me call in a favor.”

Comments

[Narrative Style]

I wonder what Bon Bon is going to say when she hears about this. I can't imagine she'll approve.

[FanOfMostEverything]

“It's… urgent,” Lyra said. Her face scrunched, suddenly realizing that she did not know how to express this so Fleur could understand without letting everypony else know.

"It concerns a mutual friend, one we met with this morning."

In any case, Lyra has Meat Loaf beat. She really would do anything for love. Wonderful to see her Canterlot experience shine.

[MidnightBlossom]

Oh geeze

[SuperPinkBrony12]

I get the feeling Fleur isn't telling the whole truth. In the world of secret agents, you never truly can trust anyone to keep their word 100%.

[Yoshifan30]

But she was, born and raised. And when she was younger, she and a few other friends had sneaked in to a few parties themselves, when they probably should have been studying. Lemon Hearts had been particularly daring during these escapades. She had always been the first to jump, the first on the fence, the first to slide, even when it got her in trouble. Or stuck somewhere. That little incident with the beaker in magic kindergarten came to mind. Or that time they’d tried to sneak in to a big Hearth’s Warming party and Lemon Hearts had slipped off the wall and landed head-first in a snowbank, where she’d quickly been buried up (or was it down?) to her belly button. They’d all been laughing too hard to lift her out with magic, even Twilight. Even just the memory of her hind legs kicking desperately brought a little smile to Lyra’s face.

Wow that is a pretty interesting history about that and I still don't know how the world did lemon Hearts get her head stuck in the bottle thing

[Yoshifan30]

Oh wow that is pretty brave of you Lyra to offer your blood to Fleur in order to get help and save bon bon but I wonder who she trying to call Ghostbusters yeah I walk into that lol 😆

[eiggengrau]

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” The baker leaned down and affectionately nuzzled her cheek. “But it will get you a free roll on your way out.”

LOLoth!