Rosewater seemed different when Cloudy landed on the outskirts of the Crystal Forest. She stood open, her pink mane loose and fluttering in the wind of her descent. She wasn’t veiled, for one, and she stood more easily, her smile brighter as she watched Cloudy come in.

“Good evening, my dear,” Rosewater murmured as she met Cloudy in a brief embrace.

“Good evening yourself,” Cloudy murmured into her neck. “You’re beautiful tonight. And standing in the open.” She gave the mare a light kiss on the lips and pulled away, wingtips fluttering as she looked around the hilltop. “You could have been seen.”

She nodded briefly, her smile slipping a little. “If it wasn’t you.”

Cloudy drew in a breath and let it out, pushing back the irritation at her risking herself. “If it wasn’t me,” she agreed. “What changed? You wouldn’t have done this before? You didn’t the last time we were out this way.”

“I found my peace,” Rosewater said simply, her gaze turning southward towards Merrie. “In the garden, Cloudy. I found a home again. And that can’t ever be taken away from me.” Her voice was stronger, her look surer as she took a deep breath and let it out, her smile growing. “They’re my family.”

She’s changed. Just in the few days since she’d last seen Rosewater, she had changed for the better. Cloudy relaxed and kissed her chin, then her lips when Rosewater startled and looked at her. “I’m glad you found them again.”

Rosewater nodded and tipped her head to the side. “A dark, spooky forest awaits us tonight, my lady Rosewing.”

Laughing, Cloudy pranced ahead a few steps and swept a wing towards the gap in the woods where the imperial highway’s massive stone blocks showed through. “After you, my lady Rosethorn.”

Forests usually gave Cloudy jitters when walking under canopies that she couldn’t rise out of with a snap launch, and this one was no different. The massive trees that grew wilder because of the old magics that had bled into the ground around the old highway were taller, broader-trunked, and housed stranger creatures than anything short of the rumors about the Everfree hundreds of miles to the southeast.

Walking side-by-side with Rosewater as they picked their way over massive roots and buckled stones, Cloudy felt safer. Out in the open, she was a match for the unicorn at least, but here in the forest, where unicorns were supposed to have been born and grown in the days long since relegated to legends more vague than the founding of the Crystal Empire, Rosewater was mistress.

She bent mists away from their path, shone light on the rough terrain, and talked about her days since their last meeting, her side of the date with Collar Cloudy had already teased and tugged out of him.

The way she was opening up to her was refreshing. She didn’t need to tug—not as much, anyway—to get little details out of her. Mostly, it was a little comment and the rest would come spilling out with a chuckle or a frown, and she would look to Cloudy after and smile a little sheepishly, as if realizing her own earlier reluctance.

“You’ve changed a lot,” Cloudy said softly when their conversation about past days petered out into silence as they walked along the highway. This deep into the forest, with the canopy so thick, the trees nearest the highway were too far away for their roots to have broken up the thick stone blocks while their magic still held strong, and the way was easier than ever. “You’re more confident, you’re more open, happier, too. I’m glad you found your family again, Rosewater. You need them.”

“I am, too.” Her ears ticked faintly, then flattened. “But I worry that I’m hurting one of them. Primrazzle Dazzle. He’s the one who pushed me to come to them and open myself. I like him dearly, love him as a close friend already.” She swallowed, her voice lowering. “But I worry that he’s falling in love with me, and I… if I accept, if I let myself love him, too, what will that do to Collar?”

Cloudy flicked an ear and nodded. “I think you’re right to worry about Collar. After your last date, something changed, Rosewater. I won’t break his confidence, but…” She closed her mouth before she could actually break that confidence. He expected her to say something to Rosewater, but to tell her? To give her a possible false confidence? I can’t do that to either of them.

“You’ve changed, too,” Rosewater said softly after another dozen steps, sidestepping to bump her shoulder and walk closer, every third step letting their hips rub together. “You’re less impulsive.”

“I have to be less,” Cloudy grunted. “Stars, if I was still as impulsive as I was when we first met, I would have strangled Wing weeks ago.”

“Why?”

“He keeps pushing Collar away from me. With rhetoric, of course, but he keeps trying, and trying to drive wedges between us.” Cloudy cleared her throat and adopted a nasal whine, deepening her voice almost to Wing’s, “Me, a Rosewing, not only living in the Prim Palace, sacred hall of everything Prim and Dammer, bastion of monogamy! Why it rankles the feathers and makes Primline the Bold turn in his grave!”

Rosewater giggled, ducking her head and tossing her mane. “Stars above. Is he really that bad?”

“Close enough,” Cloudy grunted. “He’d recognize the act if I did it in front of him. Which I won’t.”

“Whyever not? Sometimes a little reflection is good for the soul, you know.”

“Because I’m not outside politics anymore,” Cloudy growled, half arching her wings, one pressing against Rosewater’s side. She let that one stay when she forced herself to calm down. “I am the politics.” The warmth of another mare at her side bleeding in through her wing was immensely calming to her. That it was a mare whom she was falling for… “How do you do it, Rosewater? How do you handle being in the spotlight all the time?”

“Sheesh. Put a mare on the spot.” Rosewater smiled softly and leaned down a little to nip her ears. “A part of it, a large part of it, is finding the bright spot in it all and holding onto it. Reminding yourself that, at the end of the day, you can go back to that bright spot and let go once you’re out of sight again. Don’t try to bottle it up. I tried that for too long, and nearly broke myself.”

“A bright spot. And how do you hold onto that spot? Just take a breath or something and think?” She vaguely recalled Rosewater doing that now and again when they’d still been enemies meeting in public or in private. “Or something else?”

“That’s one way. I know Damme doesn’t like scents, but something that helped me was bringing a little scent memento with me when I had to go out and do something I didn’t want to. Perfumes that Carnation and I perfected, a sprig of dried herbs Rosemary had finished processing, or… when I was still visiting the Garden, a sliver of a cork with the fragrance of my favorite wine. Just tucked away in my mane where it’d be unnoticed, but where I could smell it if I called to it.”

“I…” Cloudy thought about her two bright spots. And a third she couldn’t reach. “My… my mother. She used to bake… or maybe she still does. These wonderful cinnamon doodles, with the fragrance of the cinnamon amplified so I could taste it and smell it with my whole being. I never found them anywhere else in Merrie, just at home.”

“Secret family recipe?”

“Yeah. She said it was passed down from parent to child for generations, all the way to the Treaty. Maybe further.” Cloudy lowered her wing, the warmth lingering, and stopped in the middle of the path. “Could you get one for me? That would help. Knowing my family is still safe, that things are still normal there.”

“I will. They’ve asked me for news, and I’ve given what little I can, but they’re afraid of writing another letter. I’ve asked, but they always…” Rosewater shrugged. “They’re afraid of Roseate. That communicating with a pony she’s labeled a traitor will get them exiled.”

“Good. I don’t need them to write me. I don’t want them to lose what little they have left. They love Merrie, Rosewater, with all their souls.” Cloudy gritted her teeth and fought off the bristling rage that came whenever she thought about what Roseate had threatened them with. “It’s their home. And I hate Roseate for what she’s done to it. To them.”

“To you.”

Something in Cloudy broke open, like a wound that needed lancing, and she nodded, tears suddenly in her eyes. “Yes,” she croaked. “To me.”

Rosewater sat and pulled her in close, wrapping forelegs around her shoulders and tucking her head in tight under her muzzle. “Shh. We’re going to win, Cloudy, and all of this will be smoke behind us.”

“T-too damn right we are,” Cloudy grunted, and buried her muzzle deeper into Rosewater’s coat, taking in her scent more strongly than she had outside sex. Musky mare, warm from the walk, and the faint scents of the forest in her coat, and the city she loved so much. “We’re going to win,” she murmured more strongly.

She pulled away, pulling the tatters of the emotional wound closed, and sniffled once, staring up at the dark canopy overhead, the stars winking in and out as the leaves drifted in a light nighttime breeze. “Douse the light,” she whispered.

Without a word, Rosewater let go of the small ball of light, leaving them in almost absolute darkness on the Imperial Highway.

The stars brightened slowly as she stared up still, as Rosewater sat with her, a foreleg still laid over her shoulder, a lighter shade of dark. Slowly, the world around them changed from pitch to muted shades of midnight as the little starlight and moonlight that did filter down through the canopy let her see dim shapes and impressions of shapes in the night.

“It’s peaceful here,” Rosewater said after long minutes staring with her at their transformed surroundings.

Cloudy made a noise of acknowledgement and leaned against her lover, a mare she could love, was falling love with, and started speaking.

“When I was a little filly, my mother told me about the forest and the deerkin that liked to haunt the woods and play tricks on ponies who stayed in the woods overnight. The ponies that would wander and wander, never aging a day until they left and found the whole world changed while a hundred years passed.”

Rosewater’s head bobbed, only noticeable as a shift of shadow.

“Then I grew cocky. Fourteen, just learned about sex, and I wanted to impress a mare I’d just met and get her something from the forest east of the city.” She grinned as she remembered the look on the mare’s face as she’d made the bold claim. “Dancing Star was her name, a pretty russet unicorn with eyes like crystal. Stars, I was so smitten with her. Just… young lust.”

Rosewater chuckled and nipped her cheek, but stayed quiet, still holding her loosely in her forelegs.

“So I did, y’know. Hormones and too much Rosewing pride in my system, my mom said. There was supposed to be a glowing flower that grew in the forest, but it only bloomed during the full moon, with the eye of the Mare in full light, on the first day of Spring. A rare conjunction. But I thought it was close enough, and went into the forest, on hoof.”

“The forest there isn’t as mystical as this one,” Rosewater said finally. “This is…”

“Old magic,” Cloudy said with a nod. “But I went. Darker than Tartarus, with only the moon and the stars to guide me. It was darker than this, y’know. More branches lower. Here…” She shrugged, but didn’t try to break out of the embrace and rested her cheek on Rosewater’s throat, relaxing more. “Here, I could almost fly along the old road. The nearest trunks are far from my full spread.

“But then… I had to walk. I had to trust that the flower would lead me to it in the dark.”

“There was no flower.”

“There was no flower,” Cloudy agreed with a wry smile. “And I got lost. I avoided the bogs by smell alone, but then… I wandered into a dead end track surrounded by bog. And whichever way I went, the smell got stronger. How I’d gotten there, I couldn’t find. I thought I’d have to wait until morning, wait for the sun, and it was cold, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it.”

“You obviously made it out.”

“Obviously.” Cloudy snorted. “But… I got out that night. The mare went to my house, thinking she’d surprise me with a sugar flower she’d bought. Clear crystal sugar. It was so sweet of her. And my parents thought I was with her. They all panicked and she told them the story, and they called out the guard to look for me. Torches, unicorns, pegasi dropping enchanted lights into the forest.

“It was raining stars in the middle of the night, and by chance, one of them landed on the edge of the bog I was stuck in the middle of. There was a broad bridge that I could cross and get out. I grabbed the light in my mouth before it could sink and dashed towards the thickest lights.”

“Good. I’m glad you saw the light.”

Cloudy bit her jaw lightly. “Awful. But… yeah. I never went into the woods again. I was scared of them, of the dark like this.” She licked the spot she’d nipped. “But here? Now. I feel safe, Rosewater. I know I’m getting out, and I know the darkness won’t last.”

Instead of replying, Rosewater pulled away from her, hooves settling on her shoulders, and groped in the dark with her muzzle until she bumped noses with Cloudy. After a moment of awkwardness, their lips met, the kiss deepened, and Cloudy unfurled her wings to wrap them around her lover.

When they parted, Rosewater called forth a dim light, little more than a sliver of a glowing sphere, casting a soft, pink-tinged light around them.

“Thank you. For the candles. For the wonderful night.” She kissed the mare she was falling in love with one more time, slower, less passionately and more intimate.

They shared the warmth of the kiss for almost a minute, their lips enmeshed, before Rosewater pulled back slowly, nuzzled her chin, and kissed her cheek. “Walk with me tomorrow, Cloudy.”

Cloudy startled, then pulled back to look at Rosewater’s face. The light grew brighter, showing her an earnest expression, a longing desire to not be alone.

“I don’t want to walk alone anymore. It was… a point of pride. Too much stubborn Rosethorn pride. ‘I can do this,’ and ‘it doesn’t affect me.’”

“But it does.”

“It does. It hurts to hear the taunts, and to look at the accusing stares. I thought I was doing the right thing, letting them see me alone and vulnerable. But… I don’t know if I can take it much longer, and it’s going too slowly.”

“I’ll be there. As a friend.” Cloudy chuckled. “You know, Dapper told Rosemary and I we needed to get the ponies used to the idea of Collar and me and Rosemary. But… this is a great way to get them used to just you and me, too.”

“Stars above, I could kiss that stallion.” Rosewater chuckled and leaned back to scrub her cheeks. Dry of tears, but flushed all the same. “He’s been so good and kind to me.”

“To all of us. He’s one of the best stallions I know.”

“You stink.”

Not ‘Thank you for coming back straightaway.’ Not ‘Thank you for enduring hardship and cold for a week and a day.’ Not even ‘you look tired.’

Crown stuffed the irritation into the back of her mind. She was too tired from the forced march through the night from Merriehollow to prevaricate with her mother. “My apologies, mother. I thought you might want to know what we discovered straight away, and not from some report out of Canterlot.”

That got Roseate’s attention immediately. “Canterlot is reaching so far?”

“The Princess appears to be sending patrols heavy enough to rebuff bandits as far north as Crystal Cut gorge. We also found Equestrian settlers in the woods just south of the cut, and a few scattered about the plains south to the Imperial highway.”

Roseate sat back in her chair, her look thoughtful. “If they’re this far north…”

“That was my thought. They must be everywhere. Nopony in their right mind would settle so far north with so little.” Crown gave her mother a grim smile. “We may see either refugees before the end of winter or find frozen corpses come the first spring thaw.” We also made sure they knew not to try and weather the winter if they couldn’t. For those that didn’t try to stick us with pitchforks.

Roseate didn’t need to know that, though.

“As if. We have enough mouths to feed and barely enough grain.”

Barely? The fields she’d seen coming back had still been a quarter full, and the silos in Merriehollow close to bursting from the grain in them. That was more than they’d had in a decade and a half.

“Celestia’s spread herself too thin,” Roseate mused softly. “She can’t reinforce the garrison here.”

Crown blinked at her mother. The garrison massed a full forty ponies, most of whom were clerks and accountants, not warriors. They weren’t an occupation force and never had been. “She can’t?”

“Oh, she can. But she’ll have to uncover other parts of Equestria to do it.” Roseate waved a hoof. “I’m not proposing we overthrow a demigoddess. I’m merely saying that what we can do has been expanded.”

She’s… insane. It was an effort not to stare at her mother and keep her mouth closed. “What… can we do? Firelight has already set firm lines.”

“Firm?” Roseate glanced at her, then back at the map of Merrie. “Oh, regarding my traitor daughter, yes. I’m not talking about her. I’m talking about the ones sheltering her. The ones conspiring with a traitor to give her succor and comfort.” She raised a letter opener and stabbed it into the corner of Merrie that the Garden occupied.

“The Garden?” Crown couldn’t believe her ears. “Mother, there are special laws regarding the Garden. We don’t even have direct control over their land.”

“A mistake Rosary the First made,” Roseate snorted. “She was a weak leader and gave into her sister’s demands too easily. And for what? A threat of civil war? A competent leader doesn’t let such threats sway them, and I will not be so weak.” She stared pointedly at Crown. “If you doubt me ask your sisters how I reward failure.”

Crown swallowed. Her mother had to mean Silk and Vine. What little she’d been able to capture of their conversation had been damning, and hadn’t made it to Roseate’s ear through her. “W-what did...?” She couldn’t finish the question. There was no way to finish it without sounding disrespectful.

“If they’re going about their punishment, they should smell even worse than you do right now.”

Not caught, then, but failed to do what she meant. A sense of relief washed over her. She and her two older sisters didn’t exactly get along, but they were among the kinder of her siblings, and had never begrudged her her interest in books and song like their mother did. Crown knew, of course, what their secret was. They could hardly hide their affection for each other when they thought themselves secret.

Nor did she blame them. She knew the story as if she’d penned it herself, of how Silk had comforted a crying Vine, how that one comfort had turned into love over the course of their lives. They were simply finding what affection they could under the cruel eyes of their mother. Just as Crown herself did. Just as Rosewater did. Just… as all of them tried to do.

Crown nodded dutifully after a suitably long pause, as if to show she was seriously considering the threat. If she failed to hold up to at least the letter of the order, she would no doubt face the same. Or worse. Possibly another long patrol. In winter. Without necessary supplies. And even worse if she returned early, against orders.

Roseate would take away her lovers, her friends, her book club, and exile her to only Celestia knew where. Crown closed her eyes and bowed her head. “What would you have me do, mother?”

“We have to do this just so. Too quick, and they’ll run crying to the treaty office or the public. Gather as much as you can about the Garden. Who comes, who goes, see if you can infiltrate the garden and get information on their actual trade values. I want to know if they haven’t paid a buckle they should have.”

Then hire an accountant! Tired as she was, Crown almost shouted it. Her jaw actually quivered, her teeth gritting over the words as a final defense against losing whatever favor was keeping her lovers safe. “Of course, mother.” She hesitated, then turned her body half towards the door. “That was all I had to report.”

“Then go get cleaned up. You smell like a rutting bog.”

Crown didn’t even flinch at the harsh tone. She backed out, bowed, and made her way outside to find her second waiting for her on the palace lawn.

“Always knew, y’know,” he said, rising to all four hooves. “You tried to hide it, and I guess most of the platoon didn’t notice, but I always knew you were one of hers.”

Crown watched him steadily, brow raised. “What gave me away?”

“They way you talk. You don’t just blurt shit out. You think, consider, and then give orders.” Longrose chuckled and waved down the path towards the barracks. “Come on. Got a hot bath and meal at the barracks.”

“You’re not angry?”

“Oh, I was for a bit when I figured it out. Which one are you?”

“Crown.”

He flicked an ear, not seeming surprised. “Always thought you were a pansy bookworm. Turns out you can take the heat and slog through the mud with the rest of us.” He chuckled. “Come introduce yourself. The platoon is still talking about the long march and the crazy lieutenant who egged us on.”

“They don’t hate me, then.” The last stretch to make it back and rest in warm beds with a hot, hearty meal had seen a lot of grumbling, but they’d all persevered. “I thought…”

“You’re not a soldier, my lady. We appreciate it when our leaders push themselves just as hard, take the same hardships, and stand with us in the line against bandits and monsters.” He glanced aside at her. “They’d march with you again, if you asked. If you lead them.”

An unfamiliar prickling started between her shoulders, a feeling of portents and fate that shivered her to the bone. This was important. “I’m not really an officer, and I don’t have command authority. That was given to me temporarily by my mother.”

“Think that matters? We took an oath to protect our homes, the city. You do that, and they’ll follow.” Longrose glanced aside at her again as they descended to street level and she followed his lead towards the barracks. “Why were we out there? For real? It wasn’t just to try and find some elusive contact only a pegasus like Cloudy could reach, was it?”

It was to get away from my mother. “No. But the scouting we did on the bandit numbers will be important.”

“You mean the lack of bandits?”

“Yeah. And the refugees we might see.”

Longrose was silent for a long time as they made their way down the road, and they were almost to the barracks before he spoke again, “That was good of you, my lady. Offering them shelter.”

“We’ll see if they listen.”

“Can’t shout at rocks to make them move.”

“No, I suppose you can’t.”

Rosewater stood on the stoop of her house. It was late, later than she’d been out except for raiding, but she stood open and unveiled, watching the clouds scuttle across the sky, illuminated by the moon and the Mare staring down at her.

As was her custom on nights she went on dates with Collar or Cloudy, she’d made a point of not leaving the house to go someplace, lest those watching her on either side of the river twig onto the idea that she was up to something clandestine when she veiled and disappeared.

Tonight, when she’d come home, appearing in the basement with its myriad of smells, the chill air frosting her breath, the estate silent above her, she’d decided that spending the night alone wasn’t something she wanted to do.

So she had decided to step out and make her way to the garden.

The usual watchers, familiar with her routine by now, had long since found their own beds, and only the vigilant Dammeguard across the river shifted as she descended the steps. No doubt waiting for her to veil, and presumably ready to send a runner to the bridges to be extra vigilant.

Instead, she turned to walk along the river to the west, still unveiled, and started off towards the Rosewine tributary.

Merrieguard startled at her approach as she reached each of the bridges, but gave her courteous nods and returned to their watches. They were good ponies, by and large, devoted to keeping their city safe, and keeping the ponies in it safe from invaders that would never come.

Most of them knew that, but Roseate still manned the bridges because ‘it was just a ruse’ to make Merrie complacent. It disgusted her, and she should have backed away from her mother’s orders earlier, should have refused them.

Except she had Rosemary to care for, and she had thought she had ample example of what would happen if she refused. But it had turned out that Carnation had been an agent of Damme the entire time, and likely been caught doing something blatantly treasonous.

How much of what I’d done could have been avoided? It was a question that continued to dog her nightmares, the ponies terrified as they succumbed to sleep, only to wake up the Mare only knew where with food, water, and a privy pot. Sometimes to stay there for days without seeing another pony until their ransom was negotiated.

It made her sick to think she’d participated in furthering the war in such a way.

And it always came back around to: But I thought I was protecting her.

She stopped in the middle of the main bridge that crossed the Rosewine and stared down at the slow-gurgling, deeply cut stream. The hills on either side had corralled the tributary for so long that the streambed was a good twenty paces down, despite the relatively narrow path it took between the main part of Merrie and the land ceded to Rosewine Rosethorn more than two centuries past.

Twenty paces wide and twenty deep, it still ran as smooth as glass most days, when the eddy currents didn’t surface. It was calming to listen to those quietly here at night, with no other hoof traffic to disrupt her meditation. She wanted to be calm when she arrived at the garden, not panicked or distraught as her thoughts were leading her.

How long she stared at the rippling reflection of the moon, she didn’t know, until hooves on the stone pavers of the bridge brought her back.

“You found my favorite spot,” Dazzle said from a few paces away.

Rosewater glanced at him, unhurried now, and smiled, bobbing her head. “It’s peaceful, this late at night, to listen to the stream.”

“Yes.” He sidled closer, then dropped pretense and leaned against her as he joined her in peering over the solid stone railing. “It’s better to watch with sompony, though. Even if it’s in silence.”

“It’s cold tonight, yes,” she said softly and edged closer, pressing her shoulder to his, and sliding a hind hoof closer so she could rest a little against him. “What brings you out here?”

He didn’t answer for a while, his attention distant, and even his ears pricked forward, focused on the sound of rushing water. “Thinking about what I want to do with my future. Who I want to spend it with.”

He’s not talking about me. She was almost certain of that. Almost. He was a good and attentive friend, a gentle and playful lover. “You must have somepony you’re looking at.”

He glanced at her, then away, down to the river and Damme beyond. After a second, he focused, grunted, and a silence shield surrounded them. It wasn’t as efficient as hers or Collar’s, or Seed’s, for that matter, but it worked.

“You.”

She flicked a look at him, found his attention still on the stream down below, and… couldn’t think what to say.

“I know what I said,” Dazzle went on, sighing. “I know that. But, stars, just saying it got me to thinking more about it. Us.” He didn’t move, but it felt like his presence diminished as he went on, “But I know you’re courting Collar. And I know you worry about hurting his feelings if you’re seen romancing me as well.”

“That worries me,” Rosewater admitted, letting out the breath she’d held in. “But I’m worried, more, what would happen to you if Roseate discovered you and I were romantically involved.”

“She can hardly touch me,” he said with a snort. “I’m still a Dammer. The worst she can do is tell me to get my ass back across the river and ban me from the city. Only Lady Lace can send me down the coast to Canterlot.”

They fell silent again, sharing the companionable silence, and took over the silence spell, reworking it to be more efficient, but not letting it drop. She extended the field to the surface of the river, ensuring that they could still hear what made their minds at ease.

“I’m worried that romancing you would hurt Collar, too,” Dazzle said softly. “It’s clear he’s come to regard you as a friend. I wonder how much of him wishes that he were a Merrier, and he could throw away pretense and just say ‘let’s court, shall we?’”

“Did you know him?”

“Not well. We’re… he’s a couple years older than me, but we still served in the same Dammeguard platoon. He was the junior lieutenant, and I was a private.” Dazzle glanced at her again, nudged her with his shoulder. “He is a good stallion, and I do wish you the best at courting him. But a part of me wishes it was me you were courting.”

“Dazzle…” Throat tight, Rosewater leaned against him. “Stars above, I know we’re good friends, and… I do love you as a friend. I could even find my way to falling in love with you.”

“I know. I could see it in your eyes, Rosewater. It’s what made me hope. But when you’re crossing the river in the opposite direction for romance…” He nodded towards Damme. “I understand you have to play by different rules.”

Rosewater nodded slowly. “I do. I’ll try not to—”

“Stop that.” He nipped her neck. “I don’t want to distance myself from you, Rosewater. I’m just whining at the way politics works around this tartarus-damned war. I understand if we can’t be lovers again, but that hardly matters. You’re a good and kind pony, and I like being around you. You’ve got a dry wit like none other when you’re relaxed, and it makes me giggle like a foal again.”

“I’ll do my best.” Rosewater smiled to him and leaned against him more heavily. “Thank you for telling me.”

“It’s our way. Open. Honest. Communication is so important, Rosewater. Talking things out. I couldn’t just let my feelings for you fester in my chest. Even if it took me a while to gather the courage to tell you.” He nipped her cheek, then kissed it. “We can still be friends.”

“We can.” Rosewater nodded slowly and nudged his head gently away from the stream. “Let’s get to the villa. It’s late, and I have to go to Prim Palace tomorrow for negotiations.”

Dazzle glanced at her. “Would you like me to take you to the bridge? Or even to Prim Palace? I know—” He coughed. “I know you’re trying to let the ponies of Damme see you as you are.”

“Cloudy’s walking with me, actually.” She glanced aside at him. “We had a lovely date tonight. Walking through the forest Northeast of Damme.”

He gave her another oblique look. “How are the two of you doing? I haven’t heard much since the welcoming party.”

“Falling for each other. We’ve exchanged ‘I coulds’ already. I don’t know if you knew that already.”

“I don’t think either of you mentioned it, but the way both of you were close just before she had to leave said enough. That wasn’t just lust, Rosewater. I saw more there.” He nuzzled her cheek lightly as they stepped off the bridge and began the familiar trek up the gentle slope towards the base of Rosewine Hill. “And me…”

Rosewater leaned against him lightly for a few paces, resting her chin beside his horn.

“I think… I’ll keep being a free love advocate for now until I’m mature enough to settle down.” He tossed his head lightly, dislodging her. “And I’ll keep teasing you. And… I think I’d like to keep up the ruse, at least, of romancing you. It amuses me to think that Roseate would whine about not being able to do anything to me.”

“Be careful, Dazzle. Don’t let yourself get hurt.”

“Rosewater,” Dazzle said mock seriously, “I’ve only confessed that I could fall in love with you. But we’ve talked it over, and we’ve agreed not at this time.” He snorted. “Honestly. I’m a stallion, not a lovesick colt.”

“I meant Roseate. Legal action isn’t the only thing she can do.”

Dazzle grunted, but didn’t dispute the claim.

An uneasy fear began to gurgle in her stomach. What if I’ve already put him in too much danger?

“I was a Dammeguard for seven years, Rosewater,” he said when they finally reached the villa. “I’m not a pushover, and I know how to fight off basic scents. And I have a few surprises I can unleash. Please don’t worry over me.”

“Do you even know me?”

He laughed and nudged her inside. “Stars, alright, that was pointless. But…” He waited until she turned and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I am serious. I can take care of myself.”

Author's Note

Interesting tidbit, in an alternate version of this story, Dazzle and Rosewater are very close. In that AU, Collar and Rosewater married early, and have a child of their own in the open. The war is all but over, with only the parliament of Damme and bandits trying to stop the unification by foalnapping the child (they don't succeed). This is kind of what started that AU, where Rosewater never went into isolation when Carnation was exiled, but returned to the Garden and extended her love to her foalhood friend... Collar. Lots of speculation was involved before getting to that point.

I don't know if Cara and I will ever publish that story, but it's been fun to play with alternate versions of events.

A little early, I know, but that's okay.