It was refreshing to sit in Rosewater’s kitchen, the floor warmed by the recently doused stove, the embers inside its iron belly still glowing, though the air vents and lid tops were covered and stoppered. The estate’s kitchen was larger than it needed to be, as the home had once been far more bustling, replete with a serving staff that would have worked it morning and noon, preparing meals for the once sizeable Rosefire family.

Now, the cupboards and cabinets were clean but mostly filled with unused and unneeded bowls or mementos, and fully a half of the kitchen had been transformed some time ago into a breakfast nook, complete with bay windows that overlooked the eastern side of the home, welcoming the sun. It was homier now than it must have been when it’d first been built, and the pillows and curtains that lined the bench along the bay window spoke of afternoons and evenings spent reading quietly.

There was even a small set of shelves built into the bench’s bottom filled with books.

His heart longed to spend more than a single day here with her.

Were they not who they were, he could easily see himself spending a quiet lifetime in this house, with children underhoof, filling every nook and cranny with laughter and delight.

Yet… they were who they were, and both of their political opponents demanded that they be enemies. History said they should be. But all he wanted at that moment was for he, Cloudy, Rosemary, and Rosewater to live this quiet life at the edge of Merrie with not one more care in the world beyond where the bits to sustain themselves came from.

Drying dishes in her kitchen was a step closer to that dream, even if it might never be fully realized.

“This one’s clean,” Rosewater said softly, passing Collar another mixing bowl, one that they’d used to make dessert from some of the ingredients she’d bought. A flan that had turned out not all that bad, despite her claiming to only have attempted making it a few times before. “Not that I needed to clean it very much. You did well enough to lick the caramel clean.”

“Hey, hey,” Collar said with a chuckle. “It’s not my fault you chose one of my few hidden weaknesses to make. It was delicious, as was dinner.”

“You should taste… taste my mother’s cooking. Carnation taught me how to cook after learning how I tried to cook a dinner for Rosemary that left the poor filly gagging after a taste.” Rosewater bumped against his shoulder. “That was the fish cakes I served you for dinner on our last date.”

“How did… I thought your nose would help you avoid kitchen atrocities.” Collar leaned over and nipped her cheek, then kissed the mark on her muzzle, sending a quiver down her neck. He loved kissing her there, seeing her react with surprise and delight each time.

“That’s a myth. I made sure it smelled great. But not everything that smells great tastes great. Cinnamon, for example, smells great. But you should not use it to season salmon.” Rosewater stuck her tongue out. “I later learned that cayenne, in small moderation, gives it the same color, and much better taste, even if its scent profile is much… harsher.”

“I see. So I should definitely invest in some cinnamon scented things. Maybe soaps?”

“Mmm. I’ll need to ask Roseling about that, but now that you know… and since Rosetide isn’t known…” Rosewater chuckled and put away the stiff-bristled brush. “I have a wonderful selection of fragrant wines, if you want to settle down with one and talk more. Or I have brandy, or...” She raised a hoof.

“You’re offering to let me explore your wine cellar?” Collar teased, leaning forward to nuzzle her cheek. “I admit… I could use a glass or two. But no more. I want tonight to be warm, Rosewater. I want to settle in with you tonight and…” He waved a hoof. “Do whatever comes to us. Talk. Hold each other. Both at once, of course,” he added when her lips curved into a grin that he kissed just after.

She tasted better with each kiss, the warmth lingering for a little longer on his lips, and the desire to kiss her again growing stronger.

“And after?” Rosewater asked in a breathless whisper. “Will you share my bed, Collar? With or without intimacy, it would be nice to wake up with you holding me, or I you, and know that this evening wasn’t a dream.”

“Yes. Stars yes, Rosewater.” Collar hesitated, then raised a hoof to set against the heart mark on her breast, covering it almost entirely. She took a deeper, tremulous breath as he did, her cheeks flushing. “I’ll hold you tonight. I want to hold you right now.”

“But…” Rosewater smiled and crossed a foreleg over his, gently pushing it down. “We really ought to finish cleaning up the kitchen or we’ll regret it for breakfast tomorrow.” Her eyes widened. “Stars, we get to have breakfast together.”

“Yes, and lunch, and dinner again, and… maybe one more breakfast before this ‘date’ is over.” Collar raised her foreleg and kissed it lightly, keeping his eyes locked on hers. “My love.”

“And…”

Collar followed Rosewater into what was clearly an office. Warmly appointed, with paintings of a family that he’d never known existed. Two mothers caring for a foal, a filly, a young mare. It was painfully obvious that after Carnation had been taken, Rosewater had stopped painting, or Carnation had painted all of them. There were no paintings of the mare she had grown into.

Unless they were somewhere else.

He resolved, then, to commission a painting for Rosewater of Rosemary as she was now so she could at least have a recent memory stored.

“This is my office,” Rosewater said, sitting down on the pillow in front of her desk. “Here, months ago, I tried to figure out how I would entice you to let me talk to you more, to intrigue you into getting to know me. That I might have a chance at opening your heart.” She chuckled. “Stars, the months before then that I spent trying to figure out how to get your attention, just to look at me with interest. I didn’t know… all I had to do was ask kindly.”

“That is, perhaps,” Collar said, sitting beside her and continuing to look around, “an oversimplification of matters. It was you being open and honest with us, Rosewater, being the you that I see now every time we’re together. That was intriguing. That you had so much hidden about you that I had no idea of. And… as you showed me more, as you opened up, as I pushed you to open up, to let your guard down, it only drew me closer to you.”

“I never planned it, Collar. Only the moment. The date. What happened—”

“I know.” Collar kissed her neck lightly, then her cheek, her muzzle, and her lips. “I didn’t plan, either. Just the next date, the next day. The next step.”

He bent to kiss her breast, letting his lips linger on the surprisingly soft heart-shaped mark. The tremor that ran through her seemed to pass to him. There was nothing left for her to show him but… her bedroom. They’d peeked into Rosemary’s room once, and he’d been unsurprised by the number of postcard portraits on her wall, the variety of other decorations had surprised him however.

“And next,” Rosewater murmured, a curious tremor in her voice that wasn’t the nervous tone he’d come to know, but… a hoof stroked down his mane gently, down his neck, and drifted under his chin to raise his attention to her eyes. She kissed him lightly. “I would show you my bedroom, Collar. Our first night together, sleeping instead of talking.”

“Rosewater,” Collar murmured, nipping her chin. “I think those two glasses of wine are affecting you a little bit.”

“Mayhap,” she admitted, grinning with a touch of sheepish delight setting her ears to the side. “But… I’m floating, Collar. It’s like a dream I don’t want to wake up from. The plan we had for our date was wonderful, yes, but this is you, my love in my home.” Some of the happiness faded, then. “Only, we can’t leave. Or open the curtains. Or let in the sound of the night wind bringing in warmth and fog from the sea.”

“When you stay in the Prim Palace,” Collar promised her, not sure he could promise such a thing, “you will have all of those things.” He would make it happen. Somehow. Someday, and soon, he would give her what she dreamed of.

And how do you know the wine isn’t affecting you? Those were full glasses.

“I would like that, Collar,” Rosewater murmured, her eyes shining bright and wide, her irises expanded so the gold flecks crowded together to make a golden ring around the dark pools of her pupils. He could get lost in those eyes, studying them, finding all the little things that made them hers. “And… perhaps the wine is affecting me. I want to fall asleep in your embrace.”

Collar blinked rapidly, shook his head, and leaned forward to touch noses with her. “I think, perhaps that would be a good idea. You said the wine wasn’t watered down?”

“Stars, no.” Rosewater laughed and leaned into his shoulder. “Petal would string me up by my ankles if I diluted her wine. And she’d string you up alongside if you’d been the one to ask.”

“Mental note, don’t suggest diluting Petal’s wines. Got it.” Collar nudged her lightly. “I know it’s not the date we planned for, but… is this okay, Rosewater?”

“Okay? This is better, Collar. You’re here. In my home. One of my homes. The one I grew up in.” She ran down as she spoke, her voice and her eyes drifting towards the east. “I want to go there again, Collar. With you, if I can. I want… stars, I want so much, Collar.”

“Go with Dazzle, and the mare? Bliss? Take them both there. I don’t think we’re going to be able to do anything in the open for a while.” Except that would also focus Roseate’s ire on Dazzle, a pony that was in easy reach of her machinations. And the Garden ponies. Her own citizens, ponies that her oath of office should have meant she had as much responsibility to protect and govern as they had to uphold her regime. “Stars, I hate your mother.”

“Tonight isn’t about her. It’s about us. The future, Collar. Together, we can end the war in a way that nopony thought would ever be possible. Through love. Through… marriage.” Her eyes flicked to his and then away. “Would you—”

“Yes. Though I find myself without a gift to make it official,” Collar said with a lightly teasing nip to her nose. “Nor would we be able to make it official. Not yet. In Merrie, you would have no issue, but…”

“Frosty’s Law, and its legacy. Do you have a plan?”

“I do. Or my mother does. She’s been hoping a case would come up where she could challenge it in the middle courts and get enough reason to strike it down in the high that it wouldn’t cause a fuss. We don’t want to seem like we’re pushing ponies to do it, though, otherwise it will look like we’re doing exactly what we are doing.”

“Mmm. Deception.” Rosewater stood, stretched out her hind legs, and brushed past him. “I’m glad you have a plan, because I was lost. I know some of what you can do legally to get it banned, but I have no idea what kind of backlash that would cause among your reactionary factions.” She stopped in the door of the office to wait for him. “And I did hear about Wing and his son haranguing you during your date. Gossip travels easily when it’s that ‘juicy.’”

“You didn’t hear it from the mares?” Collar’s eyes tracked down her tail, loose instead of braided, and snapped his eyes back up to her eyes to find her grinning. “How are they, by the way?”

“Staying in one of the honeymooner cabins. They’re still deciding if they want to winter there or go home on the next ship to Canterlot.”

“They’d better decide soon. The last ship south leaves port in three days. Going west is a little better, and we have another week before the last ship leaves for Saddle Arabia.” Collar chuckled and dared to nip at her rear, then laid his chin over her backbone.

She flicked her tail, brushing against his ankles. “Let’s get to bed, or we’ll stay up all night with alcohol fuzzing our thoughts and talking about everything that comes to mind, important, pleasant, or neither.”

“But… that’s my ideal night. Talk about nothings until the early hours.”

Rosewater glanced back at him, chuckled, and flicked an ear. “Why, that sounds just like one of our dates. We could do that again, if you want to spend half of tomorrow asleep.”

“Mmm. Maybe.” Collar nipped the flicking ear. “It would certainly be a relaxing way to spend half a day. Laying in your bed, warm together, lazy, talking, kissing, wondering about the future…” He kissed the ear lightly, then her cheek.

“And when we have to go to the privy?” She was smiling all the same when she returned the nip.

“Why must you make sense?” Collar said with a groan.

“Because I want… tomorrow to be unplanned, Collar. Whatever we want to do, we do. Make love when we wake up? Make breakfast first?” Her voice got quieter before she flicked her tail, snorted, and sighed. “I wish we could risk opening the breakfast nook curtains. The view when the morning sun breaks over the hills is breathtaking.”

“Why can’t we? Your nearest neighbor is a good ten meters below you, and I didn’t notice any windows on the westward facing side of the house.” Collar nuzzled her cheek lighty and cast a light spell over her lips when she opened her mouth. “And any pegasi hanging out on the rooftop would be noticeable immediately. Any flying by would only catch a glimpse, and we could close the window before they saw much more than a pony with a similar coat color to Dazzle sitting with you.”

“I…” Rosewater stopped in the hallway, staring down the way towards the kitchen, then shook her head. “I don’t want to risk it, Collar. Not when this is so new to me. I’m not sure I can take so much risk and be calm about it.” She turned down a side hallway with one door at the end on the left, and another curtained window on the wall beside it. “This… is my bedroom.”

She ushered him into the room as she cast light into the sconces on either side of the bed, too large to be a single pony’s bed, the four posts around it held drapes that would hold in the warmth on even the coldest of nights. They were all deep pink to the point of almost being a light reddish hue, and embroidered with roses in wreaths and singly with red.

It seemed, to his Damme-raised experiences, purpose-built for passionate encounters rather than a good night’s sleep, but the myriad of pillows arranged into a bowl on the bed’s farthest side, combined with the high headboard and kickboard, spoke of a comfort he wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced before.

Cloudy had admitted that the stiffness of the Dammer pillows that were so common in his stoic society lacked the softness for her wings, and thus she’d spent the night tossing and turning, and even once smacked him in the face with her wing when she couldn’t get comfortable in the improvised nest.

Afterwards, they’d settled for a more plush mattress topper rather than pillows, though it had cost some forty bits to a tailor to make the necessary adjustment.

But with Rosewater, he didn’t need to worry about his foreleg falling asleep under her if the main part of her weight wasn’t on it, but on the pillows. He needn’t even worry about his neck getting a crick from trying to avoid breathing in or chewing her mane if they could have their own heights at which their heads rested, or their own troughs to lay in.

There was more to her room than the bed, and her brushing past him to explore the room with him reminded him to look elsewhere.

There were some missing paintings here, of Rosewater and Rosemary out in the wilderness, mostly watercolor, ink and pencil. Fall colors predominated, beautiful and golden, and sad at the same time. A mark of a belief of the ending of things.

Or the hope for a new beginning. Rosewater had been planning for he didn’t know how long to bring her mother’s reign to an end, and had even courted ponies during that time, all failed. And now…

“These were all done during the same time of year,” Rosewater murmured, following his attention. “When Rosemary and I would make our pilgrimage one of the Deerkin thickets. I’d always bring my easel and paints, just in case the deerkin would sit still for long enough for me to paint them.”

“From all I’ve heard, they’re famously skittish about sitting still for any length of time.” Collar leaned in to study the detail on one without much inkwork at all, a painting of the river valley itself, with Rosemary sitting on a rock overlooking it. “You have a beautiful eye for color.”

“Thank you.” Rosewater leaned in closer to rest her cheek against his. “I painted that one last year, right before the Gala, when she said she didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to run into Cloudy and… make things awkward. So I took her out to wander the hills above the river, visited a few deerkin sites, and had lunch on an outcropping.”

The tapestry of farms was clear, and only the buildings were done with any kind of inking, to pick them out from the background, more impressions of shapes than full renderings.

“You’re not in this one.”

“She wasn’t feeling up to it. Her heart works best in the arts when she can feel it. So I spent extra time filling in the valley while she laid at my side. It was a peaceful afternoon.” Rosewater nuzzled his neck, then his shoulder. “I put them in here so I could have them around me when I went to sleep, to remind me that she was still here, even if she couldn’t be here.”

“It’s a good thought,” Collar murmured and nibbled along the back of her neck to the base of her ear. “I’m glad you continued painting her even after…” He waved a hoof, not wanting to speak of the event. “I’m glad you kept your hoof in your painting. You’ve improved, too.”

“I practice when I find time. It’s not something I do all the time, but I do try to keep from getting on too much of a rut.” Gently, she nudged Collar away from the painting and towards the bed with its canopy open. “Have you ever slept in a pillow nest?”

“I… have tried. When Cloudy first told me. We agreed, by mutual discomfort, that the pillows we had weren’t the right kind.” Collar chuckled and brushed his hooves on the stiffly bristled carpet around the base of the bed. “The clean hooves mat is the same.”

Rosewater pulled back the covers and climbed in before he did, crawling on her belly to her chosen space, a single, larger, plush pillow where her head would lay, and wrapped her forelegs around a long, round pillow. “I like to hold something when I sleep,” Rosewater murmured, and shifted to pull a similar, longer pillow between her hind legs so it ran up almost to the base of her ribcage.

“I do, too,” Collar murmured as he slid in behind her, running his foreleg over her form as he did, and drawing shivers from her that turned into soft exultations of pleasure when he got to her shoulders and nipped, then kneaded her muscles with his foreleg. “You’re tense, ‘Water.”

“Excited,” Rosewater replied shortly, clutching her pillows tighter and twisting her neck to watch him with one eye. “And… thank you for being slow about it, and gentle.”

“My dear, every part of you is beautiful, and I’ve rarely had the chance to admire your body so closely.” Collar traced his lips over the curve of her shoulder’s musculature, drawing a soft, almost inaudible moan from her. One he hoped she would repeat.

Up her neck, he laid gentle kisses and brushed her mane aside to run his lips over the smooth, soft coat and feel the thrumming of her heartbeat just under the surface, near to racing, though the trembling of her hindquarters against his thigh hinted at more carnal expressions of her feelings.

Not tonight.

Yet, when he shifted level with her, marveling at how close they were of size and length, her tail strained upwards against his loins for a bare second before it left, and he felt his scrotum tighten, felt the start of the swelling heat below that would…

“Let it happen,” Rosewater murmured softly, her head still raised to watch him. “Don’t fight your arousal, Collar. I’m… trying to fight mine, but… the smell of you, the feel of you so close…” She lowered her head to the pillow and closed her eyes, just as beautiful even in repose.

“Don’t fight it,” Collar murmured, relaxing his mental grip and releasing the clenched muscles keeping his cock uncomfortably sheathed. It was a familiar sensation, feeling his length grow and harden, the tip prickling against the hairs of her coat, and felt her responding, her tail rising again to lay cupped against his groin, the hard curling portion of it meeting and matching the curvature of his belly just above his still-tightening sack.

Collar tucked his hind leg over hers, stretching out his lower leg, and pressed himself tighter against her back.

“Can feel you,” Rosewater murmured. “Thank you, Collar.” Her tail twitched, making him spasm, then relaxed, not leaving where it had nestled between his balls and his inner thigh, but remaining as a heated reminder that she was there.

“Are you falling asleep?”

“I’m trying to quiet the fantasies I’m having right now so I can,” was her quiet reply.

He almost asked her to tell him about them, then nuzzled the top of her head and rested his on the pillow just behind, one foreleg curling loosely over her barrel. “Dream them tonight.”

“Will you, too?”

“I can hardly not dream about all the fantasies running through my head right now,” Collar whispered, resisting the urge to do more than let his erection lay between them. Even as he closed his eyes, the urgency began to fade from the pressure in his loins, but the vivid thoughts and daydreams didn’t.

A moment later, the two lights she’d ignited in their gemmed sconces flickered and faded, leaving only the dim light from the curtained window and the moon high above the only light illuminating the bedroom of his love. His lover.

Or soon enough to be that it made no nevermind.

Even the scent of her as he breathed in the air above her ears and mane was a mild enticement, and the rising waft of their combined arousal enough for even his relatively dead nose. Even under the sheets.

“Goodnight, Collar,” Rosewater’s muzzily soft voice came.

“Godnight, Rosewater.”

Dreams of laying in the Garden baths with all of her lovers past, present, and future, eating grapes, sharing wine, and living a life imagined only in myths of the old world misted into inconstant fragments of imaginary words spoken in imaginary ears with no more meaning than the morning mists.

One lover drifted to the fore as dawn crept closer, certainty brought by a feeling more than by sight that the sun was rising.

Rosewater yawned as the image of Collar in one of the myriad dreams mounted her in front of those lovers drifted into brief clarity, they all cheering her and each other on as a great welcoming orgy played out around them. The feel of him on her back, the weight of his barrel pressing down on her, the heat of his cock…

His foreleg over her barrel tightened in the waking world, and a heat and pressure she’d thought a part of the dream shifted in ways too real, too immediate for it to be a part.

“Un…” Collar’s low moan, muzzled with sleep, brought her to full wakefulness, but she kept still, listening, feeling as he slowly rutted the space between her flank and the bed, the heat and enjoyment at inspiring such enjoyment, even in a dream, leaving her smiling.

“Rose…” his voice deepened, roughened, a low grunt of need, and he swallowed, licking his lips just above her ear. “Stars…”

The forelimb tightened again, and the hind leg over her flank cycled under the covers, looking for purchase… that she gave him a moment later with a spell, providing his hoof a platform as he bucked against her back. Her tail, caught still between his legs, raised of its own accord and pressed against the heat and dampness of his loins, memories and flickers of other dreams just like this flying through her mind as sleep descended halfway onto her again.

Then, with a grunt, and a tightening of his sack, he came.

In that moment, of fresh wetness and heat against her back, she realized it was not the first time, as a cool spot warmed again with the ejaculation.

Shifting her own hind legs revealed she had similarly been affected by such dreams as a cloying wetness, and the rising smell of freshly disturbed come rose through the shroud of the comforter and let her know anew that she’d come to orgasm at least once in the night, if not more.

He shriveled quickly, and his muzzle rubbed between her ears, either asleep or half-so.

“Good morning,” Rosewater murmured, turning her head and unable to resist stretching out her hind legs as a shiver of waking energy washed over her.

“Mmmrhm.” Collar’s muzzy voice wasn’t close to anything resembling a word, but his shifting foreleg and hind leg betrayed more deliberate intent.

“Sleep well, love?” Rosewater purred, using a spell to pull the cover back slightly, letting the chill-kissed air in the bedroom reach them.

Collar groaned more loudly. “Too col…” His voice trailed off into quiet breathing before she felt, and heard, his jaw crack open into a loud yawn. “Stars, it’s cold,” he said more clearly, and more definitively awake.

“It is,” Rosewater replied, and felt his entire body stiffen, then relax.

“It… Rosewater, stars. I was just… dreaming…” He trailed off, rolled partly away from her, then back. “I, um…”

“I know. I held your hind hoof when you came so you had purchase, Collar.” Rosewater tossed back the covers fully and released the wafting air of their combined orgasms into the chill bedroom air. “It’s normal, and expected for new lovers to dream of each other.”

“I did… with Cloudy,” Collar admitted. “The first night after we made love, and I fell asleep in her apartment, she woke up with come on her tail.”

“I doubt it was all yours,” Rosewater said with a laugh. “She is as sexually active and excitable as Rosemary.” She rolled to her belly, looking at him for the first time that morning. His mane was mussed and tousled, giving her a good idea of what he looked like before all the grooming he went through in the morning, even above what Cloudy had likely pushed him into doing for her more sensitive nose.

He was still her handsome stallion, bleary eyed and blinking at her with a dumbstruck look of mingled awe and trepidation as his eyes went from her face to what she could feel was a sizeable streak of come on her back and flank.

“I, um…” Collar coughed. “It looks like I did, er…”

“Come.”

“Come several times… or at least more than once.” He raised his hind leg to look, and Collar followed his gaze to the ruddy limpening erection sliding back into his sheath. That started to thicken again and grow even as she watched. “I, um…”

“Am very virile, and have a beautiful penis, and fragrant, musky ejacualate,” Rosewater finished for him, her voice soft, smooth, but hardly that of a temptress, even as much as she wanted to play the part right then. There were customs to follow for removing stains from a bed’s top, and a bath to have before the stink set into their coats. “But, since it’s likely been sitting overnight, stewing in our heat, it will start to smell soon.”

“And the coverlet?” Collar hesitated, then half-stood, his flagging cock still trailing a streamer of semen that he caught, his cheeks flushed, and wiped against his stomach. It was, Rosewater mused, endearing, alluring, and made her wish she’d caught it herself. “I—um.”

“Do not apologize, Collar,” Rosewater said more firmly, and formed a spell over the stain in the middle of the bed. “Merrie is home to many housekeeping spells meant for just this purpose.” A small bead of seed formed over the sheet, growing slowly as she used a spell used more for cleaning up her perfumery to draw liquid out of stone and crevices. “We learned, some time ago, that laundry is expensive if we have to do it every time we come on the bed.”

Collar considered the peach sized ball of mixed mare and stallion come. “It always feels like there’s more than there actually is…” He met her eyes, looked away, then met them again, his jaw firmer. “It was a good dream, Rosewater. I… want that to be…” He coughed.

“Real.” Rosewater grinned and pranced to the door, raising her tail and flicking it aside to let him see how excited she’d been in her dreams… and how excited she was now. “I want it to be real, too, Collar, but we really should take a bath.”

He surprised her by catching her hind legs with a spell.

“Let me,” Collar murmured, his heart beating faster and harder at her blatant display. “I dreamt about how you would taste all night, ‘Water. That much, I can remember. It’s something that’s been dogging my thoughts since Cloudy teased me to orgasm with what it was like making love to you.”

“Oh?” Rosewater’s tail hiked higher, exposing her bare pink expanse more and sending a shiver over her coat that seemed to transfer to him. Even the underside of her tail was a pale flesh-pink, and her puckered hole, her lips, her skin underneath were all the same pale shade of pink, lighter than her mane and tail, urging him to taste, to touch, and feel. “She didn’t say she’d do that.”

Her voice, a low purling thing full of pleasure and want, sent another thrill through him. It was a side of her he’d never heard, never imagined could be so alluring.

“She did,” Collar breathed, advancing slowly, his spell on her ankles gentle and warming against the chill seeming to radiate from the floor. “She told me what it was like your first time, how open you were for her, how…” He touched his nose to her buttock, taking in the scent of her there, musky with lust both old and fresh, wholly mare.

“I want this,” Rosewater murmured in that same low voice, a shiver running over her coat as she winked open, her clit glistening with even fresher wetness. Her back arched as his breath washed over her nethers, and she let out a low huff, her hind legs sliding farther apart, breaking his spell briefly. “I want you, Collar. Stars, I’ve wanted you to want me.”

“I do.” He kissed the side of her buttock, then the crease between buttock and vulva, trailing his nose through her arousal, his tongue following after only a moment, taking in the musky, salty, rich flavor of her. More, she was silky smooth, and her heated flesh gave under even the touch of his tongue, and the act drew a gasp that transitioned into a shivering groan that set her tail completely to the side, the silky hairs flowing over his ears like a benediction. “Stars…”

“B-better than a dream?” Rosewater asked, her voice shaky with want, need.

“Much.” Some part of Collar’s mind was surprised at his boldness, at how quickly he was moving… but this was what he’d dreamt of more than once. He’d come on her back not five minutes ago. And yet, as he woke further and further, Damme-born mores tried to insert themselves into his thoughts. “Rosewater, is this… stars. I just admitted I love you two days ago.”

“I want this, Collar. You want this. Cloudy wants you to want this.” Rosewater’s tail hiked again, then fell, still curled to the side. “What’s wrong with us making love?”

What is wrong with it? He wanted to mount her, and his cock agreed, stiffening again underneath him, the pressure a roiling reminder of his own lustful wants. “I… nothing? I love you, Rosewater.”

She seemed to hear more than he was saying, more than he would admit to himself even, and shook her hind legs briefly, flexing her ankles, and started down the hall. “Let’s take a bath, Collar. I think the musk of sex is clouding both of our minds.”

I want to mount her. The thought passed over him with a shivering of his coat and a twitch of his half-firm erection. “I think you’re right. I want a clear mind when I make love to you, Rosewater. I want—”

What?

She glanced back at him, her tail hiking again, then lowering. He wanted that, yes, but he wanted his mind unclouded by lust or sleep. He wanted to make the decision himself, not blindly following his lust to the warmest, sweetest…

He shook his head and tore his eyes away from her backside. He could still see her marehood, the pink depths winking open, as involuntary a response as his cock firming at the sight.

“I want our first time to be special, Rosewater. Our choice. Not because we dreamt it and woke up in a cloud of sex and lust.” Collar briefly caught at her foreleg with a spell and walked up beside her, leaning against her. “I love you. I want that love to be the reason we make it.”

Rosewater’s eyes shimmered, and she blinked a few tears to trail down her cheeks, but her smile gave the truth of them. “Thank you, Collar. I want that, too. I… sometimes, I want things too much to think that…” She cleared her throat and bumped her shoulder against his. “It’s a danger of the Principes and our lifestyle. It’s something we teach all foals to guard against when they come of age, and something we teach our new ponies from Damme or elsewhere to be wary of. Pleasure just because we want it, without moderation.”

“Hedonism,” Collar murmured, feeling his arousal soften and fade as he considered. It was what Roseate had tempted him with both times. Rut her for the pleasure of it. “I don’t want to fall into that with you, Rosewater. I want every time…” Every time? What if he just wanted to have sex with her for the pleasure of it, some future day, some future where such a thing wouldn’t be a long, dark road.

She seemed to understand his thought. “I know. And… some hedonistic pleasure, in moderation, can be incredibly relaxing, Collar. It eases the mind away from worry, away from the fears of the day, and into a warm cocoon of self-indulgence.”

“And there lies the danger.” He could see it getting away from a pony easily. He could see it getting away from him easily.

“We don’t use scents every time we make love, Collar,” Rosewater added gently. “The night with you and Cloudy that we set up, that I want to hear about, by the way, from your lips, not hers, was special. I want a night like that with you, someday, but not so soon after your night with her.”

“Because…” Collar shook his head when she started to answer and tried to work through it himself, pushing away the lusty thoughts of what she’d tasted like, the aftertaste of her on his tongue. “Because if I get used to it, if it pervades every time I have sex, it could… be used against me.”

“Or you couldn’t get aroused without it.”

His tail twitched at that. “That sounds awful.”

“From the outside? Yes. But if you’re given that scent every time somepony wants to have sex with you, you’ll want it, you’ll beg for it.” Rosewater’s coat shivered, her face a mask of disgust. “You’d be a prisoner of your own lusts… unless you have the will to resist it.”

“Well.” Collar snorted. “I think that cured my lust for now.”

Rather than looking amused, Rosewater looked horrified. “Stars, Collar, I didn’t… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such a stick in the mud. I… was trying to be educational, and got…” She waved a hoof, her ears flat. “Dark.”

“You’re fine, love,” Collar said with a laugh. “It’s nothing I didn’t suspect before, but I’m glad to have confirmation. But I feel less of an… urgent need to make love to you now.”

“Part of that may be because you’re not staring at my marehood as my traitor tail tries to entice you to mount me,” Rosewater grumbled, her smile coming back a little. “I… still want to make love before you leave. I want to show you what it means for me to make love to you, Collar. Not just…” Her ears dipped again, lower, and her cheeks colored. “I want to be in your dreams. And I want you to tell Cloudy what it was like. But don’t be surprised if she starts masturbating to the retelling.”

“She does that plenty on her own,” Collar replied with a sharp laugh.

“Good. She did it when I told her about how Bliss, Dazzle, and I ended up after playing Petals. And I helped her when I was done telling it.” Rosewater nipped his cheek lightly, and he felt her tail flip aside and against his flank. “Would you mind if I told her my perspective, later?”

She wants to. She’s open about wanting to. But she would be. She had no moral hangups about making love to a friend, let alone somepony she’d fallen in love with. So what is your hangup? He was already neck deep in the Principes, but still felt like he was floundering for his stroke, and Rosewater, Cloudy, and Rosemary were all swimming slowly just in his range of reach, encouraging him to try it, to find his way, and join them in a greater pool of love.

This would be when he finally kicked off the shallow ledge that his hind hooves were still on and tried to swim with them.

“I wouldn’t mind, Rosewater. I want you to share it with Rosemary, too. She’s already asked permission to use my image to masturbate to. And she’s seen my erection.”

Rosewater’s brows rose. “She has? Stars, what were you doing?”

“Thinking about how Cloudy teased me with what it was like with you.”

“You know she’s probably letting an image of you mount her right now. It’s how she masturbates. She needs love there to feel it, Collar. And she feels best when she can dream that it’s real in the moment.” Rosewater nuzzled his neck gently. “She’ll never present you in her daydreams as other than you are. Caring, gentle, strong.”

It wasn’t hard to imagine the vivacious young mare with him atop her, or beneath her… behind her. She, too, was different from Cloudy and Rosewater. Gentle and curious where Cloudy was often direct and obstinate, and Rosewater was subdued, strong, and uncertain at times.

“She’s a beautiful spirit,” Collar said softly, trying to keep the image of Rosemary with her tail raised, with her darker pink marehood winking and damp from having his image rut her, gently or firmly, it didn’t matter. He stopped at the door to the bathroom and raised a hind leg to check whether or not he’d decided arousal was done.

His cock, flaccid, still hung below his sheath as he’d known it would be, and a trailer of precome dripped from his tip even as he looked.

“I guess,” Collar murmured, “the idea of her masturbating to me is… flattering.”

“She would never have asked if she thought it would be an insult, Collar.” Rosewater ducked her head to look as well, and he felt her regard send a thrill of delight through him, sending a surge along his length. “I don’t think you’ve retracted since you woke up. Are… do you need to masturbate, Collar? To get… well…” Rosewater waved a hoof and opened the bathroom door.

He’d seen it during the tour last night, of course, but now… with her asking if he needed to masturbate, he found himself looking for comfortable places where he could lay down and do just that. Places, his mind insisted, where he gave her a full show, despite his lingering Dammer mores telling him that…

“Rut it,” Collar grunted, and slipped past her into the bathroom, hitching his tail up to show her his ruddy, tight scrotum, the flaccid erection dangling between his and shifting with every hoofstep.

He was surprised a moment later when he felt her nose against his sack, then her tongue, hot, wet, and strong curling under a testicle, lifting it minutely, then releasing as she pushed her muzzle between his legs and let both rest on her muzzle, the tip of her horn angled away with the twist of her neck and the base of it resting against the back of his thigh.

“Rosewater!” Collar pranced ahead, almost to the bathtub, his eyes widening as he turned to watch her, a look of carnal want naked in her expression, the mask of cordiality gone.

“J-just as you have your lusts,” she replied, pulling back and stamping a hind hoof. “I have mine. I want you, Collar, and I want to help you if you’ll let me. Not mounting, but…” She licked her lips, her eyes darting from his eyes to his cock. “If you want help. I want to help.”

Stars, it was tempting, and his rapidly stiffening erection told him it was more than tempting. Cloudy had given him oral more than once, and it was… an experience unlike anything else, not quite so pleasurable as mounting her, and she was fumbling with her tongue still, but…

He shuddered, his coat quivering as he thought about the last time she’d taken him that way, how it’d felt when she’d curled her long tongue around below the head of his shaft…

“B-bath?” Collar croaked. “L-let me think about it while the tub fills up and heats.”

Rosewater nodded and turned the nob, letting the chilly cistern water pour into the basin big enough for two, and began filling the rubies around the outer base of it with magical heat. “I don’t want to push you, Collar—”

“I want you to, stars, mare. If it was only I doing the courtship, and not Rosemary and Cloudy encouraging me to try, and you being… you, we’d still be virtual strangers.”

Collar, all too aware of how stiff his cock was, how it hung at a steep curve under his belly, waiting for him to tense before it became fully erect, came closer to her, watching her eyes trail from his to beneath him. Her coat shivered, and even his nose picked up the scent of her want as it trickled down her hind leg. He wanted to lick her again, to delve his tongue into her, to suckle on her clit as it came erect and pushed her open, hear her cry out. He wanted to suckle her teats, tease her like he did with Cloudy, to look into her eyes as he slid into her, as he made love to her.

“I want you to push me, Rosewater. I don’t want you to feel like you have to wait for me to get it through my skull that I want something before I ask for it. I want to mount you right now, right here. I want you to take me in your mouth. I want you to straddle me and control how quickly we mate. I want so much, Rosewater, but I’m afraid of asking for it because of what it means.”

“What does it mean?” she asked softly, her tail hiking higher with every one of his wants until it curled over her back, spilling pink hairs down either side of her flanks. “What does making love to me mean to you?”

“It means I’m committed to you. For life, Rosewater. It means that I’m abandoning what I was brought up to believe was my way of life, it means…” What did it mean, beyond that? So small a thing, and yet so large. His way of life was… larger than he was, it was what his ponies believed in. “I’m… It feels like telling my ponies that our way of life isn’t for me. That your way of life, the Merrier way of life, has captured my heart and soul.”

Rather than scoff at him, she nodded. “The same has been happening with me and Damme. I love the filly that called me Princess Celestia. I love the honesty in her eyes, and I love what that honesty can grow into. You’ve shown me the dedication of the Tussen Twee, you and your parents. No, this won’t be as simple as one lifestyle of our ponies winning out over the other. It was your dedication to Cloudy that opened your heart to the Principes, and because of that I’ve learned that the Tussen Twee is another kind of love. And love is for sharing, not comparing. I want to see where this path she’s guided you on leads us all.”

Her tail drifted down slowly as she approached him, one ear directed at the tub.

“I love Lace and Dapper as if they were my own parents, Collar, I don’t think they need to accept more love into their life. It’s clear to me that they have all the love they ever needed just in each other, and in you.” She stopped just shy of him, her nose almost touching his, her breath heated still with the wants that he could see in her eyes, tempered by her will and her concern for him. “Just as, when I look in your eyes, I see your want to love all three of us.”

“I need…” Collar started, then kissed her lightly. “I need your love, Rosewater. Yours, and Cloudy’s and Rosemary’s. It’s not a want anymore. Not for me. I can admit that now. I need all of you in my life. But…”

“It’s hard to let go.”

He kissed her in return, bit her upper lip gently, and smiled a touch lopsidedly. “I need you to push me to let go of that notion that I’ll be letting my ponies down.”

“Because you aren’t,” Rosewater agreed with a brief nod. “You’re living your life. We’ll be showing them that love… is love, Collar. Whether it springs, like your parents, from an intense bond between two, or for us. All of us. And love… is a good thing to share.”

“Sharing, and showing that it can be shared,” Collar murmured, leaning in to kiss her more deeply, letting his tongue brush her lips briefly, then just rested with his lips pressed to hers, their breaths mingling while the pitch of water filling the bathtub changed.

“I love you,” he murmured against her lips.

“And I love you,” she replied, touching her nose to his. “And… we don’t need to make love today, Collar. That was a want of mine.”

“I want to, Rosewater. Stars, I’ve not wanted much more than to let you know that I am committed to you.” What that meant briefly flashed through his mind, pushing aside his worries and doubts with the intensity of lust and love mingled, and he felt his cock stiffen again. “And…”

“I know.” Rosewater turned away to inspect the bathtub, her tail swishing slowly behind her again, a sign, he knew, of contentment. She shut off the spout, the hammered copper pipes groaning as she did, then quieting, leaving only the quiet tick-tick-tick as the copper lining of the wrought iron tub heated. She glanced over her shoulder at him and deliberately flicked her tail aside, one brow raised. “We don’t have to make love now, Collar.”

And yet, he wanted to. He advanced on her, his hooves on the stone floor tapping like drops of water, and ducked his head to nuzzle her buttock. She winked open, shivering, and raised her tail higher.

I want.

He lapped slowly along the outside of her sex, drawing a groan from her, the tip of his tongue briefly flicking up to touch the underside of her dock and nudged it the rest of the way over her back, then to the side, exposing her fully to him.

I want this.

He kissed her clit when it pulsed erect, throbbing under his lips, then lapped under it, catching it briefly with a suckle, drawing it between his lips to bath it slowly, drawing more moaning whimpers from her as she leaned forward, her hooves tapping farther apart as she settled in.

She wants this.

With a firm lick, he parted her folds open and delved deeper with his tongue, tasting her arousal and need directly from the source, feeling her heartbeat and her muscles throbbing around his efforts to push deeper still, to taste the source of her desires and set her to panting and moaning.

His erection stood stiffly against his belly, the head throbbing with the desire, the need for release, and the sight of her, tail curled over her back, tail hairs swaying as she arched her back and scraped her forehooves against the bare stone, drove his want for her higher into a groaning, guttural, “I want to mount you, I want…”

The feeling was primal, a recognition of an ancient sign of wanting to mate, a ritual as old as time. A stallion and a mare, enamoured of each other, needing more, wanting it. But still, his will resisted, waiting… wanting to hear her tell him to do it, to make it between lovers.

“Do it,” Rosewater panted back, her voice higher, needful. “I want you to, Collar. I want you to mount me. Make love to me.”

He reared up, a nicker coming from his throat unbidden, his forelegs clutching at her hips, pulling her back and himself forward. Cock bobbing, he thrust towards her, pressing into the flesh beside her marehood, shuddering at the sudden shock of heat from flesh-on-flesh contact, and pulled back, adjusted, and thrust again, and found her.

Wet heat surrounded his flesh, drowning his senses in an instant wash of pleasure he’d only tasted with Cloudy before, and he groaned as he sank into her easily, his hind legs trembling as he took a step forward, then another, thrusting up into her as he’d never done from standing with Cloudy. He couldn’t thrust all the way in, couldn’t quite…

Rosewater shifted under him, setting her hooves against the edge of the tub and allowing him to grasp around her barrel as he thrust more fully into her.

“Stars, mare,” Collar grunted, hilting himself at last, panting, and trying to keep from exploding from the excitement. His cock wanted to let go, his balls tightened, but he held back. “Contraceptive?”

“Safe,” Rosewater grunted, glancing over her shoulder at him. “I-I want your ch-children, Collar.” The statement made him stiffen further, let his control slip a little more. “But w-when we decide.” She huffed and leaned forward, her hips pulling away from him, forcing him to thrust into her again or slip free, his hooves dancing just behind hers, his forelegs holding her tight to him.

“Taller mares,” Collar grunted, thrusting shallowly up into her and drawing a squeak of surprise. “Stars, taller mares are different.”

“C-careful,” Rosewater panted, throwing a smile over her shoulder. “You might want to try more.”

“I want Rosemary,” Collar groaned, pressing his chin into her shoulder, thrusting up and trying to call an image of the younger mare to mind… but all that did was the mare he was mounting.

“She wants you,” Rosewater answered in a soft pant.

“I want Cloudy.” She came easier to his mind, an image of her from his dream writhing under Rosewater’s attentions while he mounted her, both of them his wives, both of them together with him.

“I want her.” Rosewater’s voice was higher, reedier, and a soft patter of sound underneath them announced her first orgasm, a soft one, a ripple of feeling along his erection that trailed down his shaft, his sheath, and trickled from his balls to plop with soft, wet sounds beneath them. “A-a-and…” Her breath came in a gasping cry as a harder orgasm, or the same one building up, rippled through her.

And over him. He pulled back and thrust up into her, reveling in the drops and drabs of wetness that slid down his cock each time, some his, some hers, and tickled his scrotum. Again, he pulled back, thrust, his hind hooves tapping as he hilted himself deeper, his sheath pressing against her dock, and let go of his control.

His body hummed with energy, pleasure, as the first streamer of come jetted from his cock before he’d even flared fully, and thrust again, barely moving, pushing his hips against her buttocks as she whimpered her pleasure and he felt his loins tighten again as another, smaller spurt trickled into her.

Pleasure like crawling fires over his coat spread over him, and a lassitude that entered his thighs first, then his hind legs, as he backed away, slipping free of her and letting free a small trickle of their combined pleasure to trail down her inner thighs.

The sight stirred him again, and he lapped at her nethers as a muzzy contentedness flowed over his thoughts, the taste barely registering as musky and needy.

Rosewater stood there longer, panting with her head held low, her tail still curled to the side, letting him clean her with tongue and lips, as shudders ran through her body before she slipped one hoof from the edge of the tub, then the other.

“Stars,” she murmured, looking over her back at him. “Tall stallions…”

Collar laughed and pranced to stand even with her, letting his cock flop and drip all over the stone and not caring a bit. He’d made love with his lover. One of his lovers. “Tall mares and tall stallions. Stars, Rosewater… I didn’t last long.”

“Neither did I, silly, and it’s not a race,” Rosewater retorted. “I almost came when you first thrust into me. Stars, when you missed the first time, I almost came. I was riding the edge of pleasure the whole time.”

Collar leaned against her as the lassitude sank deeper, barely reacted when she started licking his muzzle and chin, then startled, smiled, and stopped her with a kiss. “Let it stay until we take a bath.”

Rosewater chuckled. “Another few minutes, then, until the water warms enough to not be chilly.” Still, she licked his chin one more time. “I’m… glad we made love, Collar. Now, rather than later. I didn’t want to let it interfere with our day, feeling the sexual tension rising higher and higher. Now…”

“Today can be relaxing. Even if we do have sex again.”

“More slowly,” Rosewater agreed with a small yawn. “More… intimate. Maybe… we can talk while we have sex.”

“I think you underestimate the allure of your vaginal call,” Collar murmured back, leaning against her and licking his lips. “But… maybe we can talk about… children? I’ve had a short talk with Cloudy, but Rosemary not at all yet.”

“A talk we can all have together,” Rosewater murmured, resting her cheek against his and raising a hoof to test the water again. “All I want right now… is a good soak with you resting against me, letting me hold you while we relax.”

“Together, then, and later,” Collar agreed quietly, and settled in, leaning lighty against her while the tub ticked away and tiny streamers of steam began to rise from the edges of the tub.

It was, all in all, a nearly perfect way to wake up.

Author's Note

First making love with Collar and wet dreams. Passion pervades this chapter, but also a soulful talk with dreams of what comes next, and what might.

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about D&D and another original work based around a homebrewed Dungeon and Dragons world following a young aasimar woman who finds herself the target of her family's old foe, a cult following a devil. She gets rescued by an old barbarian and decides to follow his path in life and become a barbarian herself (The class, not the cultural type). She'll be an Ancestral Guardian Aasimar Barbarian who has a literal angel of vengeance in her ancestral line. At least in terms of D&D. In the story it'll be referenced with in-world language rather than player's manual lingo. Really enjoying it so far.

My other original work that I've been working on is a pseudo LitRPG based on a future post-post-apocalyptic Earth and follows a young woman who is, unknowingly, the soul-child of a goddess from another world. Reincarnation and past lives figure prominently throughout the story. She's working on a game that, as it shapes itself under an increasingly mysterious influence, becomes more and more familiar.