How long had it been since they’d gone on a real date. It was less a question in Collar’s mind and more a wonderment. The answer was that they’d never really gone on a formal date before. It had always been informal, friends just hanging out, and later hanging out and having sex afterwards. And, lately, largely only sleeping with each other. Sometimes having sex, other times too tired to do anything but fall asleep holding each other.

Isn’t that what lovers do, though? It was hard to tell, sometimes. Nopony in Damme liked to talk about their sex lives, and avoided it if they could. Or until they got drunk enough to drop the inhibition. It was the way his ponies were.

But the last month of whirlwind dates with Rosewater, of finishing the harvest, which would be officially done at the end of the week, and the revelation of his growing love for her, had made him want more. Rosemary, he could talk to, and Cloudy, but beyond those two and Rosewater, the friends he could turn to like Coat, to some extent Stride, and even Poppy and Note wouldn’t understand exactly.

Poppy might.

It was getting harder to remember that she was still seen as an enemy when he saw her in public, when she strode through the halls of the Palace from meeting to meeting and to meet her daughter. He’d grown more and more comfortable with seeing her as a pony to be admired, even loved.

She had grown more comfortable with him as well, and those moments when she was more affectionate in public were starting to cause gossip in and around the palace and likely beyond. There had been awkward moments, sure, but he’d had those with Cloudy at first, too, and still did now and again when Dammer upbringing clashed with Merrier. Rosewater was more reserved, more like a Dammer in so many ways, but lacking the inhibitions about sex and intimacy.

But she was breaking down the mask more and more as Roseate continued to make noise but not do anything beyond sending her daughters out on missions for unknown purposes. They’d just gotten confirmation a day ago that the pony sent with the fifteen-strong platoon out into the wildlands and come back was, in fact, Rosethorn Crown.

Since she’d come back, Roseate had been more and more active with Rosejoy’s harassment of Rosewater, as if they’d found something the mare had been hiding out where she’d never actually been. To his knowledge. Maybe she had a secret farm of rare ingredients out that far.

That our aerial scouts have not seen mane nor tail of in more than six months of anti-bandit patrols.

“Buckle for your thoughts?” Cloudy asked, bumping against him and drawing him back to his surroundings, to her.

“Sure. Just thinking about…” He cocked his head to the side and flicked an ear to show half of it was private. “How odd our relationship is,” He finished at last and nipped her cheek. “In a good way. Sometimes it feels like we jumped a few steps on the relationship ladder.”

It was a mostly sunny day, warm in the sunlight with a cooling breeze flowing in from the sea, carrying with it the smell of seaweed rotting slowly and fish rising from the trawlers bringing in the late autumn bounty of migrating fish. He took a deep breath of it all, lamenting that he couldn’t smell it as richly even as Cloudy. His own city, and they could experience it in ways that he could only imagine.

They were just entering Damme proper, the palace grounds familiar enough to have passed him by without noticing anything amiss. Now, he noticed the stares and whispers. He was without guard, unless one counted Cloudy, and she was out of uniform. Her Rose cutie mark made it clear what her second name was. If anypony didn’t know who his chosen consort was, they would know after today.

She was a Rosewing.

She smiled at him, ignoring the looks of the other ponies. “Maybe Damme relationship steps. It feels perfectly natural to me.” She kissed his cheek and nipped at the base of his ear, prancing for a few steps, laughing. “You still blush like a colt when I kiss you.”

“Stars, Cloudy Rosewing, I do love you,” Collar said with a laugh, nipping her ears, or attempting to and missing as she ducked out of the way and darted ahead to walk backwards for a few paces, tongue out. A few ponies looked askance at him as he said her full name, reminding him why he’d been circumspect in the first place. There were plenty of ponies who thought he should marry a respectable Prim.

“I love you, and I know…” Mutters distracted him. They shouldn’t have, but they did.

Cloudy chuckled, looking around herself before turning and hopping back into place beside him. “None of this matters right now, Collar. It’s just you, me, and a date at the Primline Streetside Cafe. It won’t be long before our next dates will have to be indoors. You and me, Collar. Together, like when we started out. Maybe a few walks in the winter. The ice festival.” Her eyes glittered. “Mare’s night.”

“That would be nice. Relaxing. Peaceful. Maybe going out now and then? I really do enjoy walking among my ponies, and… they need to know I’m courting you. Once we’re done with desperate, confusing events.” Collar cleared his throat. “Of course. It’s been a while since we’ve really done anything that wasn’t fueled by desperation or confusion. Even preparations are frantic anymore. It feels like this has been the first time we’ve been able to relax, right?”

“It does,” she agreed, grinning and nipping his cheek again. “But enough about work. I’ve had enough of customs inspections and paperwork to last a lifetime.” A cloud scudded by overhead, bringing back the faint chill that seemed to cling to every shady moment. “I’m looking forward to winter.”

Collar rolled his eyes and shivered theatrically. “You are looking forward to winter. You’re almost immune to it.”

“Almost.” Cloudy sidled closer and shifted a wing against his side. “Doesn’t mean that I won’t enjoy your warmth under the sheets. Or that I won’t enjoy tucking my wing over you.” She raised her wing to rest against his side as they turned the corner. “If only you were as short as Rosemary…”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head and turning his head to nip her wing. “Not in public, Cloudy.”

“I will kiss you,” she said with a laugh, prancing and rearing up on her hind legs, one foreleg draped around his neck as she kissed his cheek. “Right now.”

He was aware of ponies around him glancing his way, a mother pushing her son away from the sight of what was about to happen. A Primfeather glowering at him, his feathers standing out in a half-threatening display.

Her breath was warm against his lips as he turned to kiss her. It was warm and sweet, gentle and more chaste than any kiss he’d thought Cloudy capable of. It lasted moments, and she backed away to drop back to all four hooves, her eyes bright and cheery. “That was a surprise, my lord.”

“It won’t be the last,” he murmured, bending to nuzzle her cheek as he heard an indignant huff behind him. He didn’t look. It would be the Primfeather, one of that prolific clan’s offspring. Relatively prolific, anyway. “I like kissing you, Cloudy. Why shouldn’t I let my ponies know that I favor you so well.”

Her eyes held a question about the other mares in her life. About Rosewater. Rosemary.

He hesitated, then bobbed his head once.

She smiled brightly, “And I love kissing you, Collar. Among other ponies, you are my favorite.” A none-too-subtle reminder to everypony listening in that she was still, at her heart, a Rose, a follower of the Principes, and she saw no reason to restrict herself to kissing only one pony. “I love you.”

Behind him, the beat of wings said the Primfeather had taken off. Likely to go tell Primfeather Wing directly about the public kiss and lodge a formal complaint with his mother.

Cloudy flicked a look behind him, her ears briefly going flat. “Don’t worry about them,” she whispered, craning her neck to kiss him again. “Us, Collar. This is about us. Not them.”

“Who was it?” he asked. “I promise. I’ll let it go once I know.”

“Gust,” Cloudy said with a sigh, glancing over her shoulder. “He’s his father’s son, that’s for sure.”

“Okay.” He looked up, shaking his head and shivered his coat to rid himself of the feel of Gust staring daggers at him. All around him, life went on in Damme. The common pony could care less that he cavorted with a Rose—mostly—though the sidelong looks he got from many of them said they wished it were a little less openly heated. “Is this okay? They’re going to be talking about us.”

“They will talk,” Cloudy whispered, grinning broadly and snapping her tail at his hind leg. “At least now I don’t have to act. I’m a terrible actress.”

“Don’t sell yourself so short.” Rosewater hadn’t been big on details, and she’d needed a few glasses of wine to spill some of the details, laughing and blushing as she did, but it had been something about acting as the bridge builders who’d proposed and built the Rosewine Bridge. He kissed her cheek again and started off again for the cafe, just a few streets away. “I heard you did pretty well.”

Cloudy stared at him for several steps, then laughed and shook her head. “Stars, Collar, you do surprise me.”

Clouds scudded by overhead again in a staggered line, heading out to sea. A few weather wardens darted back and forth, herding the tempestuous piles of white, gray and black out to sea. Not merely clouds, but storm clouds heavy with rain and unruly by the looks of it, barely held in check by the herding pegasi.

They would form a storm in a few days, and come sweeping back in after they had joined with more of their wilder brethren from the ocean.

“It’s going to be a good rain in a few days,” Cloudy murmured. “The river is going to ride high.”

“Will that be a problem for you? I know you had some plans in a few days.”

“Not for me. I think about some of my friends in Merrie. It’s almost time for their mid-autumn festival, but I heard they’re hosting the Commoner’s Gala when ours should have been. I almost wish I could go, you know.” She nipped his shoulder as they turned the corner into the wide lane that was bordered by cafes on one side and the beautifully tended Primline Park on the other.

This late in the year, the flowers had all been tended into their winter repose, and the paths and patches of grass were browning while the leaves of the trees made a golden and red carpet underneath, brilliant in the early afternoon sun.

“We can watch. I know it’s not the same, but… they hold it just across the Rosewine Bridge, don’t they? I’ve heard rumors about the tastings. Usually couched in terms of debauchery, but considering…” Collar raised his eyes to the skyline bordering the river. “We could go to that lookout post and have ourselves a date there. Participation by proxy.”

“It’s a date, then?” Cloudy pranced ahead and turned, her wings half-spread to clear a space around her politely. “Three days?”

“It’s a date, my love,” he said, loud enough to turn the heads of several ponies in the cafe.

“Table for two,” Cloudy said as she turned around to greet the host, a dapper stallion in white collar and bowtie. “Lord Prim Collar and Cloudy Rose. We have a reservation for lunch.”

Without even checking the list, the maître d'—at least that’s what he thought they were called in the far-eastern city of Prance—smiled and stepped back from his station.

“We’ve been expecting you, my lord, and we have a table ready for you,” the stallion said, bowing his head briefly and floating two menus over to a corner table with a good view of the park. An umbrella spread out over it, giving them some shade and protection from any rain that happened to fall from the passing clouds. “Pardon the precaution, my lord and lady, but the weather wardens are redirecting some rogue stormclouds from greater Equestria.”

“It’s no trouble, really,” Collar said. “It’s a lovely, romantic look.” He nuzzled Cloudy as he caught up to walk with her through the scattered tables, smiling at ponies that met his gaze. “What’s good on the menu today?”

“For romance, my lord, I would recommend the Carrot, Onion, and Oat stew. It’s especially tasty with the Autumn Catch of the Day adding a fresh bite to it.” The host turned and flashed a smile. “I must say, it’s great to see you out and about, my lord in an unofficial capacity, with your lady love.”

“It’s good to be out, um…” He raised a hoof to ask for his name.

“Highwater Primline, sir. Fifth branch down from the seat.” He smiled. “I go by Highwater Line most days.”

“It’s good to see you, cousin,” he said with a smile.

“And I you.” Highwater chuckled and pulled out a chair for Cloudy. “My lady Rose, it’s a pleasure to see you finally doing the courting properly.”

Cloudy giggled not a little delightedly. “Is that what this is?”

Collar rolled his eyes and pushed the chair back in. “It is, Cloudy. I’m glad you decided to ask me out on a date. It’s been refreshing already.”

“Of course, my love,” she turned and stole a kiss on his cheek before he made it into his chair across from her.

Collar accepted Highwater’s help scooting his chair in. “Thank you, Highwater.”

“You’re welcome. Anything to start you off? We have a delicious appetizer today, twice-baked cheese bread. It’s extra crunchy.”

“We’ll have that,” Cloudy said, shifting her wings briefly and dropping her voice to a low purr. “Thank you, Highwater, for being a good host.”

He flushed and bowed. “Thank you, Lady Rose.”

“I’m not a lady,” Cloudy said with a warm smile. “Yet.”

Highwater’s eyes glittered with the possibility of gossip. “Then let me indulge, my lady, and I’ll have your wait order soon.” He gave them one more bow and went to take the bill of another couple just finishing up their lunch.

Collar sat for a moment, perusing the menu of autumn themed items, full of cinnamon laden dishes and drinks, and warming stews that would fill the stomach and warm the heart even as the shade of the umbrella kept the air cool and on the crisp side. It was a northern mid-autumn day, with only the nearby coastal waters keeping the city above freezing at night, and then only barely.

The menus of Merrie and Damme would shift accordingly to fit the moods the weather brought on.

“All of these choices make me want to take it home and wrap up in a blanket and enjoy in front of a fire,” Collar said, licking his lips. “They’re so warm sounding.”

“Sizzling Salmon Steak,” Cloudy purred, her voice dripping with more than warmth. “Heartwarming Stew,” she read, “a cabbage, potato and carrot stew with red and chili pepper accents. Warm is certainly a word for that.”

“I think I’ll go with today’s special and ask for a warming packet of spices.” He turned the menu around and showed her the spicing options for all of the stews. “Warm the tongue and the belly, but not too much.”

“Hum.” Cloudy leaned over and peered at it. “I would normally go for the Dragon’s Breath, but…” she licked her lips. “I don’t want to hurt you tonight.”

He peered at her for a long moment, then rolled his eyes. “Cloudy… behave.” He mouthed, ‘For now.’

She threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, Collar, how you’ve changed. Of course I’ll behave.” With a wink and a bob of her ears, she mouthed ‘for now’ right back at him. “I think I’ll have the Potato Crusted Salmon in a carrot stew. And an aged Amber Dammerale.”

“Good choice,” Collar murmured. “I think I’ll go with the special today, and a glass of Red Petal.”

“You won’t be disappointed,” Cloudy said, flipping her menu over and checking the wine list. “That’s a good vintage. Rose Petal’s parents named it after her when she was born. It’s been aged for twenty-four years.”

“Hum. Interesting.” He pondered the choice and the short blurb about it being a choice wine imported from Merrie’s Rosewine Hill. Where Rosewater had gone after her first date with Cloudy.

It was a famous place across both cities, the Garden of Love. As reputable for its lovemaking, a poor reputation in Damme, as it was for its wines, the chiefest acceptable export from the city, and the source of a fair chunk of Merrie’s tax income. He also knew more about its primary inhabitants than most ponies in Merrie likely would, thanks to the dossiers he’d been reading about where Rosewater had been visiting so often.

“They also have a few greenhouses and take good care of the roses in their care.” Cloudy’s raised brow left little room for him to guess it was something else. “I would like to take you there someday, Collar, when the war is over.”

“You’ve been there, then?” He paused in perusing the dessert menu to look up at her.

“A few times. They host tastings frequently with a five bit surcharge and two buckle per hour fee. It’s quite reasonable for the entertainments and wines they offer for tasting.” Cloudy’s smirk told him the wording had been deliberate, that the entertainments were also for tasting. “I’ve mostly been with Rosemary, because otherwise their dinner prices were a bit out of my league.”

His cheeks heated as he considered what that meant. “And the entertainment is to your liking?”

“Oh yes.” She chuckled. “But my tastes have changed. I find most of what I want here, these days.” She winked again, smiling broadly enough at him that he got the point. “Though there are still a few things that I do miss from Merrie that I wish I could share with you more often.”

He chuckled, a little forcibly, and switched back to something else she’d said. “Then the war is going to end in our lifetimes?”

“It’s going to end before our first foal is born,” Cloudy said softly. “Our foal will be born in a city united, Collar.”

“Foals,” he whispered. “Our foals. So you’ve decided?”

“I have.” The way Cloudy looked at him told him that wasn’t the entire story, but she didn’t want to bring it out here. “Have you?” Cloudy raised a brow. “Our children will be our decision together.” Again, the way she stressed our…

“Not now, Cloudy. I can’t…” It was more complicated than that now. Two weeks ago, a month ago, it would have been so much simpler. Yes. And then Rosemary had entered the equation as a third bondmate.

Rosewater had entered the equation as Cloudy’s lover and his… he didn’t know yet. Friend, yes. More. Stars, he was in love with her. Their last date had been… sublimely enjoyable, even with the weight of his worries on his shoulders. He wanted more.

He and Cloudy, sharing with Rosemary, had made a sizable dent in the box of chocolates she’d gotten for them all, but every time Collar ate one, he felt her cheek against his again.

That feeling, something he’d never thought would be for him, even as much as he respected it, was making everything more complicated. He was starting to see Rosewater, too, in the same way he’d seen Cloudy. A love to be cherished.

“I want foals with you, but now? What about…” He couldn’t talk about either one of them in public.

“No, not now. I want you to think about it like I have.” Together, she meant. As a four way bond. A three way bond was as foreign to him as living a life in the southern badlands or the Swamps of Ahuizotl. That he was considering a move from where he had been to this new idea of bonding, of loving more than one pony… She had already considered it. “I have a future with you, Collar.”

He coughed and cleared his throat. “And…” he flicked an ear towards Merrie.

“I need to have a talk with them about it.” Her eyes stayed fixed on her menu, all but unblinking. “I-I want to talk to my parents, too, and my friends. I need…” She swallowed, her ears slicking back. “I need somepony to help show me the way. Somepony who will be there for me when I need it.”

“I will be,” he said, but even as the words left his mouth he knew that wasn’t what she meant.

She fixed him with a stare, letting the menu drop. “A mare, Collar. I need to know… there are things I’ve always been afraid of. I need to know it’s going to be okay, and I need her to be there.”

I love her, too. She could have shouted it and made it less clear. I need her to be there while I’m pregnant. “I… I need to talk to some ponies, too. My mother. My dad. And…” He sighed. “I need to make sure that everything is settled, Cloudy. I need to make sure that the war won’t interfere.”

Cloudy studied her menu silently for long moments, her ears ticking spastically. “I know,” she said at last, looking up. “I know that’s important. I can wait. However long it takes.”

He nodded slowly. “This is more than I thought we would talk about today at lunch.”

“It’s more than what I thought, too,” she said with a small, sheepish smile and dip of her ears, a rare sight on her. “I just wanted to talk to you about the future, the past…”

“And the present?”

“We could.” Cloudy pursed her lips and looked around at the ponies watching and listening to them without really paying attention to them. “But we can’t. Not without drawing more attention to us.”

He chuckled as several ears perked in their direction at that. Juicy gossip drew ears and eyes like flies to rotting fruit. “And how have your walks with Rosewater gone lately?”

Cloudy raised a brow and opened her mouth, surprise evident, then a smile creased the corners of her mouth briefly. “I think it was the best move, and I’ve come to know her better through those walks and open talks, Collar. I’m actually looking forward to our next walk. Tomorrow, I think?”

“She’s been to Prim Palace for her cousin’s negotiations… what, eight times? Twice a week?” Collar tipped his head to the side. “That’s hardly enough time for ponies to get comfortable with her.”

“Mmm. Have you given a thought to walking with her?” Cloudy raised a brow. “You’re both the heirs apparent of our sister cities. It might bring our cities closer together, and bring about a closer end to the war if you were seen in public being, well, maybe friendly is a bit much to expect, but cordial?”

Collar snorted. You’re really going this route, little miss actress? “You’re expecting me to be cordial? After what we’ve been through?”

Cloudy smirked. “Well. I mean, she’s negotiating in good faith, right? Maybe cordiality is the least you can expect. She did save both of our rears. Maybe for less than altruistic reasons, but…” She shrugged eloquently.

And you said you were a bad actress. The thought was followed immediately by, Is she acting, or is she wordplaying in the Rose style? Nothing she’d said was a lie, just misleading. Or maybe she’d been teasing him about being a bad actress. Or maybe she hated lying. Or her lessons with mother are paying off in spades. “Maybe you’re right. And we do have the Gala coming up next month.”

“We do. I’ve been spending more time helping Captain Pink organize security, enough that I might have to take leave from the gala to coordinate .” Cloudy smiled and tipped her ears, acknowledging the deft subject change. “But enough about work. How have you been, Collar? I feel like we barely talk at night anymore.”

It was true enough. They talked some, but it was mostly shop talk before they fell asleep or when they didn’t, they talked for a few minutes. Sometimes he needed her, or she needed him, and they would mate and then talk briefly while they cleaned each other before they fell asleep.

“I’ve been… busy. The rush to finish—”

Cloudy frowned and shook her head. “No work. Just you. How have you been feeling?”

“Honestly? Confused. Lost more often than not. So much has happened. What can I feel about it when I haven’t had a chance to think about any of it other than react to it?” He shook his head slowly. “Ever since I captured Rose Glory, and then Rosemary, everything has moved so quickly, Cloudy. It feels like the land itself is shifting under my hooves and I have to scramble just to stay upright.”

“And you need a break,” Cloudy let out a breath. “I’ve felt much the same, you know. But I think I’m more equipped to deal with it, and less is demanded of me. Let me take some of it.”

“I can…” Collar shook his head. “I can talk to Pink about lessening some duties so you can help me out. I can call it… transitioning to becoming my consort.” She wasn’t his fiance. Not yet. He decided, then, to find an earring for her, and ask her. Soon. He raised his nose briefly as the host, apparently also their waiter, came by with their bread. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Have you decided on drinks?” Highwater brought out a pad.

“And on lunch,” Cloudy said, smiling.

Lunch arrived along with a pair of guests from Canterlot by their accents and warmer garb. Both mares wore warm winter caps despite the temperature being firmly in the not freezing range. One was quiet and demure enough to almost be a Dammer, the other chatty enough to be a Merrier, but that they were in love was clear in the looks they shot each other.

It set a warmer mood for Cloudy, surrounded by love as if she were in Merrie again, sharing lunch with one of her loves and wishing the others were with her. It was still a warm atmosphere to share a lunch with Collar, even if it was mostly silent on their parts while they ate and listened to the couple beside them talk about the menu and the weather and the politics of the day.

They were both unicorns, one a bright brass coat and reddish mane, and the other a darker blue, almost midnight, with a white mane, and the midnight blue mare kept on talking about the rumors of the Lord and Lady Prim, and about the Lady Rosewater, always a popular topic of discussion on the docks and in the streets.

Cloudy shared knowing looks with Collar, and secret smiles whenever their names or Rosewater’s, or her moniker of The Rose Terror, came up. That the midnight blue seemed insistent on calling her Rosewater was heartening.

Halfway through finishing off her salmon steak and stew, Cloudy felt the downdraft of pegasi flying low overhead, a subtle stirring of the air that was distinct to one used to listening to the winds. Collar seemed to have forgotten that Gust had seen them not only together in public, but kissing in abeyance of all normal Prim mores.

She hadn’t, and the draft had a distinct flavor to it that reminded her too much of Primfeather. To his credit, Collar was much more attentive to her than he was to the air and put down his spoon almost as soon as her expression shifted.

“What is it?” he asked quietly, ears perking and twitching as he looked around just in time to see Primfeather Wing landing in a clear space on the opposite sidewalk. “Oh. I’d almost thought they would leave it for later.”

Cloudy snorted and took another bite of her steak, then patted her chin dry as she chewed, her eyes on the Primfeather patriarch. At least Down wasn’t with him. Though whether that was better or worse, she hadn’t decided yet. Without her there, the gossip she spread would get an automatic boost in embellishment when he made Cloudy out to be some kind of strumpet.

“My Lord Primline Collar,” Wing said as he came within conversational distance. “I would have words with you. My son brought me some distressing news.” He tipped his head to the side to indicate Gust, standing far enough back to almost not be included in the conversation.

“Please keep your words for now, Primfeather Wing,” Collar said as cordially, nodding at Cloudy, “as you’ve come at an inopportune time. I am on a lunch date with my love and anything shy of the city being on fire, it can wait.” He paused for a beat, glancing at the sky. “And, unless I’ve missed the smoke, yelling, and screaming, it’s not. I would appreciate you taking whatever words you would have with me up with me at a later time. With an appointment.”

Wing ignored the first half as if he’d whispered them into a gale-force wind. “I would have words with you later in an appointment as well, but if you will come away, my lord, I would wish our words private.” Wing glanced around at the other patrons, most of whom were doing their level best to not seem interested in the showdown between the leader of the opposition to the Lace Reformation and its heir. Except for the two Canterlotians, both of whom had stopped their conversation to pay obvious attention. Obvious even to Wing, who was glancing at them nervously.

That was good enough for her. A chink in his armor. Cloudy swallowed her bite of steak. “We are on a date, Primfeather Wing. Please leave your grievance with who he is dating for later.”

Collar nodded and reached across the table to touch Cloudy’s shoulder gently. “Please, Primfeather Wing, I know we’ve had our disagreements in the past about my lack of romantic interests. Please be happy that I’ve settled down and leave it at that.”

“My lord Collar,” Wing said, dropping the honorific addition of his family name and settling into a stern ‘I’m your senior’ stance, “Surely you realize that taking this private would be for the betterment of your position in the city. What I want to discuss is… private.”

“Me,” Cloudy said, turning her attention from Wing since he seemed determined to ignore her. “He wants to discuss me, and our intimate relations, Collar. As if a public kiss were intimate.”

As if in answer, the Canterlot mares shared a small kiss before going back to their food, apparently realizing who it was arguing and not wanting to get involved. Good for them.

“Of course it’s intimate!” Wing snapped, “It’s—”

“Wing, I’ve read your missives. Each and every one. Rest assured that I am wholly and truly in love with her and will not be changing my mind. Or are you saying that Cloudy Rosewing, the mare I’ve grown to love, isn’t worth my love?”

“Collar,” Cloudy hissed, taking his shaking hoof, shaking with rage, and kissing his ankle, “Not tonight. Any other night. Let’s have a quiet dinner.”

“I-I said nothing of the sort! I’m merely concerned that you are stirring Rose sympathies in the populace, my lord, by showing affection to—”

“Stop. Wing.” Cloudy hopped from her chair and turned, glad there was a fence between them, as meaningless as it was to pegasi. “Collar has already said how to redress the situation. Leave. It. Be,” she ground out, punctuating each word with a stamp of her hoof. “I, and Collar, are only interested in finishing our dinner.”

Collar joined her, resting his chin on her head, a more open display of affection, and calming to her, feeling the thrum of his pulse against her ear, the rumble of his voice, “Shh. Cloudy, we’ll return to our meal now. Wing, go. You’re disturbing the other patrons here.”

“And you openly show her such affection?” Wing sounded as though they’d slapped his dearly departed mother. “In public? With a Rosewing?”

“Such affection,” Cloudy mocked in a singsong. “Stars, Wing, you think this is affectionate? I feel sorry for your wife and children.”

“You will leave my family out of this!”

“But you will happily involve mine?” Cloudy snarled back, her tail snapping, feathers plumping unconsciously. “What little there is left of it?”

“Shh. Cloudy, not so personal,” Collar whispered in her ear. “Wing, please go. I’ve asked you thrice now and still you persist in displaying your hypocritical manner of deciding that this is not acceptable, but gossip is.”

“Hypocrisy!” Wing snarled. “I am not the hypocrite! You, harlot, are the hypocrite.” He jabbed a hoof at Cloudy. If he started frothing at the mouth, Cloudy wouldn’t be surprised. He seemed nearly beyond reason.

“Please, point out one thing I’ve had two faces about,” Cloudy purred, her ears going flat as she stared hard at the patriarch of a family that had made enemies of her family for generations. “I have been nothing but open about who I am.”

“You claim to love Lord Collar, and lay about with mares like a common—”

“Primfeather Wing, that is enough,” Collar growled, his voice low and dangerous. “My future wife’s love life is not your concern. Nor is it mine. It is hers alone. Do not make the mistake of thinking me amenable to your cause of eradicating all polyamorous relationships. I do not. Not even where Cloudy is concerned.”

“You admit it!”

Cloudy’s temper flared immediately, and her wings arched as she bent her neck to glare at him. It was Collar’s steady weight against her head that stopped her and the faint tension she felt building as he clenched his jaw. He was just as angry as she at the intrusion, and was using her presence to keep himself from getting angrier. This date wasn’t about Primfeather Wing or his bigoted, narrow views of love. Today was supposed to be a celebration.

“Please, Wing. Go,” Cloudy murmured, backing up to stand shoulder to shoulder with Collar and forcing calm upon her wings and tail. “I… want to eat a peaceful meal with the stallion I’m going to marry. I want to go on a walk with him. I want to go home with him, and then make love to him.”

She was nothing but frank, nothing but calm in her tone, and rather than shush her, Collar laughed and nipped her ear, leaning against her and spending more than a moment kissing her cheek, just beyond what Damme would have considered chaste and proper in public.

“I love you, Cloudy.” He turned back to Primfeather Wing, his ears dropping to an aggressive, if polite, set. “We have spent a lot of time planning for today, Wing, and I won’t have it ruined by you. We have our political differences, and I’m happy to engage you when they happen in the appropriate setting, but this—” He nudged Cloudy with his shoulder. “—isn’t political. It’s personal, and should be private, and we would have kept it private had you not interfered.”

“M-my lord, she is a… she is—” Wing swallowed and looked around at the other patrons, all of them having abandoned the pretense of minding their own business and paying attention to the showdown between the patriarch of a family opposed to Lace and Collar, the soon-to-be leader of Damme. She could see the words as well as Collar could. As well as any of the watchers could. Voicing them would change only Collar’s ‘acceptable’ response to them.

“Please, Primfeather Wing, finish your thought.” Collar said coldly, “or leave. I would prefer the latter, and that you not disturb the other fine patrons of this cafe. I will not hesitate to have the guard called and a citation written for disturbing the peace if you continue.”

For a long, long moment, it looked as if Wing would test Collar’s patience further. Cloudy knew him well enough to know it wasn’t a bluff—as much political fallout would come from having a citation written for his rival, he would still do it.

“I apologize, my lord,” Wing said stiffly at last, abandoning the pleasantries of first name even. “I did not realize this was a planned affair. I will leave you and your… date alone. When would be a good time to talk to you in private?”

“Speak with the palace events secretary. He knows my schedule better than I do.” Collar turned away from him and back to his seat, dismissing Wing rudely.

Cloudy fought to keep a smile from her lips as Wing stood there, his mouth open to ask for a date he’d been expecting to respond to.

His eyes snapped from Collar’s eyes to Cloudy’s, fury evident in the set of his ears. Behind him, Gust puffed up his wings and thrust out his chest, following his father’s mood.

Cloudy smiled politely and ducked her head in farewell, dismissing him more politely, but dismissing him all the same.

He wasted no time waiting for space to take off and launched himself in the air, ruffling the umbrellas of several tables and sending napkins scattering in the scant instant before Collar flared his magic and caught every napkin and umbrella before anything more embarrassing could happen.

“I apologize, fellow patrons,” Collar said in his sonorous public speaking voice. “I did not intend to disrupt your meal with melodrama.” Every napkin resumed its place and every umbrella settled to a straight lean again. “Or an unexpected downdraft.”

A few of the patrons smiled at him, but otherwise minded their own business as was the proper Prim way. The table closest to them, the Canterlotian couple, shared a look and turned as one to face them.

“It was no trouble, my lord. We’re sorry your date was interrupted.” The mare on the left said, flitting an appraising look over Cloudy. “Goldie and I have been interested in the politics in Damme.”

Goldie, Cloudy presumed, was just as quick in her appraisal, and smiled approvingly before turning to Collar. “I’m Golden Glow, and this chatterbox is Fervent Wish. We’re from Canterlot on an extended, hum, vacation. We thought we’d visit Damme first because it’s so similar to Canterlot.”

Collar adopted a tourist-friendly face, the blank mask replaced by smiles and a merry cant to his ears. “Of course! You’re very welcome. Married? Honeymoon?”

“Honeymoon,” Fervent Wish said, grinning. “Goldie is a little shy about our marriage. Her mom didn’t approve, you see.”

“Fervent!” Goldie stared aghast at her wife. “Oh, my stars. You just cannot keep quiet about that!”

“Because you need to look past it, love.” Fervent smiled sweetly and nuzzled her across the table, drawing more disapproving looks from the locals. “It’s okay. We have each other. We can contract with a stallion if we want foals.”

Goldie buried her face in her hooves. “He’s the lord of Damme, Fervent. He doesn’t need to know about our private life.” She peeked out just long enough to smile tremulously. “I’m sorry, my lord. She talks to everypony at length. Even in Canterlot.”

Cloudy shot a look at Collar, watching the tiny spat with a bemused, half-interested smile, and cleared her throat. “Gentlemares, please. If I might make a recommendation… go to Merrie tomorrow. Inquire about the Garden of Love, and ask if you might take lodging there. Tell them Cloudy Rose sent you.”

“Oh? It sounds like… er…” Goldie glanced at Fervent, who looked as if she was ready to teleport to the doorstep right then. “Well. What kind of place is it?”

“It’s a vineyard,” Cloudy said with a smile and wink at Collar. “I know a few mares and stallions there. Talk to Rose Seed and Rose Petal if they can. They charge reasonable rates, last I heard, and welcome honeymooners.”

Goldie calmed somewhat, breathing less rapidly as Fervent wrote down the instructions. “Thank you, Cloudy Rose. I… take it you’re from Merrie?”

“I am. Oh, and if you can, talk to… shoot I forgot her name. She recently rejoined the garden, I hear, though, and she’s very nice. If she’s not busy, she can show you around Merrie. Provided she has time free, of course.” She glanced at Collar, raising a brow. “Do you remember her name, Collar?”

He glowered at her and sighed, but she still saw that hint of longing there that seemed to come up whenever she mentioned Rosewater. “I’ve never been, Cloudy. How would I know who comes and goes?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Fervent said with a giggle. “Newest member… mystery mare. This is exciting, Goldie, isn’t this exciting?”

“It is, Fervent.” For a moment, Goldie glowed like her name, her coat of burnished brass seeming to deepen in color and gain a new, richer tone. “You want to go today, don’t you?”

“I do. Right after lunch. We can return for our things from the room if we decide we want to stay, and hang the deposit.”

“But—”

“We came to have fun, my love. And, as much as I love being reminded of Canterlot, the point was to get away from home.”

Golden flicked her ears and nodded. “You make a point.

Fervent twitched her ears and sat up more regally, proud of making her point apparently. “Thank you, both of you. I’m sorry for being so excitable, but I hadn’t even realized we were sitting next to the future Lord of Damme and his wife. You must think I'm the worst kind of chatterbox.”

“Not at all. It’s been comforting, and it reminded me of the openness Merrie. But we aren’t married yet,” Cloudy said quietly, reaching across the table to join hooves with Collar. “We’ve been talking about it.”

“You make a lovely couple,” Goldie said, raising a hoof and patting Fervent on the shoulder. “We’ll let you get back to your meal and finish ours.”

Author's Note

Part 1 of Collar's date with Cloudy, a three part date story that crosses the river.

And here, something I probably should have included a bit earlier besides the hinting, is just how much of a bastard Wing Primfeather can be.