Author's Note

This scene begins at and occurs through the last two sections of Severed Roots's Epilogue.

And She Clave Unto Her — AppleSeed

And She Clave Unto Her

"Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies."
—Aristotle

~

When Apple Bloom and Babs Seed reached the top of the stairs, the smaller mare supporting the larger with a gentle forehoof looped around her neck, they paused, taking in the moment.

The door to the room they had shared as fillies laid only a few feet away, but it may have well have been on the other side of eternity, infinite and vast.

They had entered this room far too many times beforehoof to count. Yet, never before had they entered in this way, as one rather than two. They paused, the air between them on the silent second floor pregnant with significance.

The farmhouse was completely empty but for the newlyweds. For the first time since the two had been back at home after the madness of Manehatten, they would be utterly, completely, dangerously alone tonight.

Their wedding night.

Babs found herself smiling in spite of her nerves, a light blush creeping up on her cheeks. Applejack did wink at us when she said her, Mac, an’ Granny were gonna be stayin’ wit’ the Cakes ta-night… didn’t she?

An' I swear she muttered summat ‘bout… leavin’ the barn alone…

Never before had the two violated Applejack’s long-standing rule when they were fillies, nor had they done so as mares. Even these past few months during their engagement, they dared not to cross that forbidden line—especially when both Applejack and Big Macintosh slept in the bedrooms nearby. Holding back within four walls had been an exercise in self-restraint indeed. If there was any moment Babs Seed was grateful to have been injured, it was those moments, those long nights when even if she wanted to, she couldn’t.

Though her back was still a bit stiff and reluctant, Babs Seed was, as Doc Triage had said, “a tough ol’ mare,” and wasn’t about to let a little pain stop her tonight.

Now, for the very first time in either of their entwined lives, they would be breaking that rule within the farmhouse. Within their bedroom.

As wife and wife on their wedding night.

The sensation of a familiar warmth pressing against her fur pulled Babs Seed from her thoughts. She looked down to see Apple Bloom nuzzling her neck and chest through her suit, her eyes closed. When she looked up and opened them, that perfect shade of red-orange reflecting back at her emerald-green, there was no hesitation, no fear.

Her heartbeat beginning to accelerate, Babs held back a soft whimper as Apple Bloom circled her, nuzzling and flicking her tail against her hooves in that primal display of love and desire.

Teasingly, Apple Bloom whispered to her between little kisses at her jawline, “Jus’ you an’ me, Babsy… You an’ me… In here…

“Wife an’ wife…”

Shivering, Babs Seed looked again at the door, then back at Apple Bloom when she paused beside her.

The gentle shades of Apple Bloom’s dress—red, yellow, and orange—cascaded over her lithe form, enough to cover her but not enough to hide her beauty. Her mare was beyond perfect as she stood in the dying light of the sunset and the looming rise of the harvest moon. The coy but palpable desire in her eyes shined through when she turned to face her wife.

Apple Bloom stepped towards Babs Seed, resting her head on her shoulder. Her breath warm on her cheek, she said in a needless whisper, “Whenever yer ready, sugarcube, Ah’m—eep!”

In one swift motion, Babs Seed wrapped her forehooves around Apple Bloom’s barrel and stood up on her hindhooves, holding her close to her chest. Chuckling, she looked down at the mare in her forehooves and said with a faint blush, “S-sorry. Didn’t mean ta scare ya.”

“Scare me?” Apple Bloom giggled and wrapped her forehooves around her mare’s neck. “Naw, jus’ surprised me a lil'. Didn’t expect ta be held like a princess on ma weddin’ night,” she added, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“Heh, well… Youze deserve it, darlin’,” Babs said, lowering her eyelids as she gazed down at her wife, making her blush.

After returning the kiss, Babs stood as tall as she could, groaning along with protesting back. She shuffled her hooves and slowly started towards the door, holding Apple Bloom securely in her grasp.

Apple Bloom looked up to see her wife gritting her teeth. “Are ya sure ya should—“

“It’s alright. Jus’ a few mo’ steps.”

“Ya sure?” Apple Bloom asked again, hearing her mare’s breathing become heavy. “It’s alright, sugar, Ah can jus’ walk in wit’ you.”

Shaking her head, Babs Seed grasped the doorknob with her free forehoof. “Jus’... relax..."

While she pushed the door open and crossed the threshold, Babs Seed looked down at Apple Bloom, her best friend, her mare, her wife.

Her princess, her sunset, her everything.

Babs closed the door behind them with a hindhoof, then locked it. Grinning in spite of the ache in her spine, she said quietly to the princess in her forehooves, “Wasn't gonna let a little pain stop me. I’ve wanted ta do dis fo’ far too long.”

Apple Bloom smiled back and reached up to her, bringing her forehooves to her cheeks as she tenderly kissed her snout. Her blush matching her wife’s, she quietly replied to the princess holding her, “Me too, sugarcube. Me too.”

For a moment, all was silent, Babs Seed holding Apple Bloom in their room in the farmhouse, on Sweet Apple Acres, where they both belonged.

Their bed waited as it always did, perfectly made with plenty of blankets, sheets, and pillows expectant for their arrival. This time, there would be no reason to hold back, no fear or hesitation or restriction or doubt.

Tonight would be their first time anew—their first time as wife and wife.

Babs Seed took those last steps, heavy but significant, towards their bed. Apple Bloom clung tightly to her, hindhooves crossed, forehooves wrapped around her neck. She leaned in to give encouraging kisses to her mare’s jaw and neck, prompting her to tighten her grip around her waist.

Knowing that this small act of strength would all but aggravate the lingering, still-healing injury, Apple Bloom whispered into Babs Seed’s ear when they reached the bed, “Let’s go slow, okay?”

Babs smiled. “Okay.”

Then, as Babs Seed began to lower Apple Bloom onto the bed, the need for words finally passed. Only the setting sun watched them as the room filled with only the sound of their measured but anticipating breath and gradually thundering hearts.

Laying her down gently, Babs Seed then carefully climbed into bed with her mare—her wife.

The two laid on their sides and scooted closer towards each other, staring silently into the eyes of their beloved. Babs was careful to curl up in a position that was comfortable for her, mindful of her aching back, which objected to her act of tenderness.

Apple Bloom, too, considered Babs Seed's possible pain, choosing to lie very closely beside her mare. She made a mental note to be careful with her, to be slow, to be gentle, as if this was their true first time.

In many ways, it was. Their anticipation, need, and desire were palpable, pulsating like a third heartbeat between them.

Once they were close enough to feel the other’s warm breath on their necks, Babs Seed wrapped her forehooves around Apple Bloom's waist, who then wrapped her own around her mare's neck.

Like the newlyweds they were, they laid there in the thick, welcoming, wordless silence for a few minutes, or hours, studying each other with new eyes. Every curve and couture of the other mare's body was explored and considered with their new eyes, traced to memory. This was not the silence of fearful lovers, lovers testing the waters and taking their first erratic steps into the heat of passion and consummation.

No, this was the silence of love in its highest, when mere words cannot begin to eclipse the circumference of its wholeness.

They laid there, studying their reflections in each other's eyes. One mentally traced the seams and stitches of her wife's dress, while her counterpart numbered the freckles on her wife's muzzle.

Everything and anything within the time from their first, dangerous meeting to this very second passed through their minds. There was no sound but the slow rhythm of their synchronized breathing, steady and wanting, flowing in time with their erratic hearts.

The setting sun cast shadows over Apple Bloom and Babs Seed's foalhood bedroom. A gentle breeze swept through the window, left slightly ajar, which caressed their fur with a playful tickle. Both mares scooted a little closer in response to the cold, gaining another set of chills as they held each other a little tighter.

Finally, when the pain of not touching each other became greater than any possible hurt, Apple Bloom was the first to make a move, as she had done almost eight years ago, on this very same evening and on this very same bed.

Gently, she reached out and loosened Babs's bolo tie, careful not to chip or dislodge the purple shield her brother had hoof-made for her bride.

Had Big Macintosh known all those years ago that Babs Seed would wear it on this momentous day? Perhaps he did. Perhaps he had intended it all along. That humble stallion was wise in ways neither mare would ever know.

Once the tie was loosened, Apple Bloom moved to slip it up and over her wife's head. Babs complied, then raised her head when her neck was freed, smiling.

Placing the bolo tie on the nightstand, Apple Bloom moved next to the tuxedo jacket, playing with the delicate, silver buttons. Rarity had outdone herself this time. Little droplets of silver shone in the fading light of the sun, reflecting both mares' colors when they were angled at Apple Bloom's insistence.

Apple Bloom smiled as she worked, unbuttoning each pristine clasp with firm but eager forehooves. Smiling back at her, Babs Seed pulled Apple Bloom close and ran a forehoof up and down her mare's back, the soft silk of her wedding dress shimmering beneath her touch.

Babs leaned forward while her wife began to undress her, the sweet scent of her mare tempting her all the while. A mixture of perfume and her underlying scent—something akin to cinnamon and apples—filled her nostrils, making her shudder in anticipation.

Thirteen buttons later, Apple Bloom opened the jacket, then did the same for the white, long-sleeved shirt underneath. Finally, her forehoof breached the prison of cloth and made contact with Babs Seed's warm, thick fur underneath. She gently stroked her lover's chest with both forehooves, evoking a little sigh when she brushed a particularly bushy tuft of fur right above her wife's heart.

Apple Bloom paused and rested her forehoof there, noting with a smile how her pulse began to quicken at the contact. Leaning in, she planted a soft kiss on her mare’s cheek. Tilting her muzzle, Babs returned the gentle kiss on Apple Bloom's opposite cheek.

A cascade of colors followed in the silence: yellow and orange cheeks darkened to scarlet; two sets of glistening white reflected each other; and fiery-red and emerald-green asked and answered and vowed everything without needing so much as a whisper.

Together, both muzzles turned and met in a firm but tender kiss. Apple Bloom pressed her forehooves firmly against Babs's chest while Babs fumbled for the zipper on the back of her dress. Sweat began to bead on Apple Bloom’s forehead, chills running down her spine as the cool air hit her wanting skin.

Pressing into the kiss—making sure at the same time not to put too much of her weight against her mare—Apple Bloom lowered her forehooves and assisted Babs Seed's undressing of her, tilting her shoulders and arching her back when necessary.

At the same time, Apple Bloom began to fully remove her wife's tuxedo, working the sleeves out of her forehooves and revealing more of the pristine, orange fur that held her heart hostage. The musk of Babs's eager sweat drove her onwards, her nose filled with her familiar and welcome scent—a combination of citrus and apples, along with perfume.

With two opposite but equal motions, a wedding dress and a wedding tuxedo found their ways together to the floor. Each was tossed carelessly aside, as if flung by a nervous filly preparing herself for a first impression with little time and much anxiety.

Two coats brushed against each other as they began to entwine at last, all barriers broken. Two tongues peeked past their owners' mouths and discovered each other anew, joining two sets of lips, locked and loaded. Two sets of forehooves clung tightly to the object of their desire, grasping for dear life.

Feeling the rhythm of the other mare's heartbeat in sync against their own, Apple Bloom and Babs Seed closed their eyes, falling into the embrace. Neither submitted nor dominated the other in their kiss. They switched positions through the caress, wrestling and entwining and cleaving, coming together and pulling apart, then back again.

Not separate, but equal. Whole and greater than the sum of their parts—of everything.

When they finally parted for breath, coming up from the depths of their ocean, they paused only for a second before continuing. There was an understanding in the next meeting of their eyes.

With movements slow but deliberate, Apple Bloom slid a forehoof down Babs Seed's chest, while Babs's lips found her wife's neck. Crying out lightly when the stronger mare's lips, and then her teeth, found the soft skin near her throat, Apple Bloom began to stroke her wife's belly with one forehoof, holding her waist with the other.

Interspersing greedy licks of her tongue between soft kisses and forceful nibbles, Babs Seed closed her eyes while she enjoyed the contours and taste of Apple Bloom's neck and throat. Her mare responded by massaging her sensitive stomach and pulling her closer. Letting out a little moan, Babs bit down harder, leaving an impression of her jaws on her wife's soft flesh.

Apple Bloom muffled her cry in Babs's mane, chills of pleasure pulsing through her. She felt her wife's strong and careful molars mar the other side of her neck, making her cry out once more. The forehoof between them doubled its speed, tracing circles on Babs Seed's belly. Babs brushed her stomach against her wife's forehoof, throwing her mane back to groan at the new pleasure.

With a playful grin, Apple Bloom seized this opportunity and began to pepper Babs Seed's jawline, neck, and shoulder with a flurry of kisses. Babs Seed held her tightly, running a forehoof down her back to the dock of her tail and stroking teasingly around it. In the same moment that Babs squeezed Apple Bloom’s flank, clinging to her cutiemark, Apple Bloom unleashed her own set of sharp and wonderful molars, biting down on Babs’s shoulder.

Burying her bellow in tendrils of long, wavy red mane, Babs Seed leaned back and exposed more of her sensitive flesh to Apple Bloom's assault. Her wife wasted no time, marking her mare on the opposite shoulder. Babs shuddered and cried out again, unable to hold back the desire brimming in her blood.

The next morning, both mares would bear tender bruises where enamel met fur and skin—the wounds of their love, their passionate and rough and primal and gentle love.

To be marked this way was more fulfilling and meaningful than any tattoo, except for that of their hearts, beginning to beat in time.

Babs Seed held Apple Bloom tighter, feeling the smaller mare's heart thunder against hers, spurring both their beats on while the day turned to night and the fire within their chests sank down below.

With several licks of a flattened, warm tongue, Apple Bloom moved from her neck and turned her muzzle up to Babs Seed. They met in another kiss. This kiss was hungrier than the ones prior, a sense of urgency exchanged between the massaging of one tongue with the other.

Understanding this, Apple Bloom laid flush against Babs Seed, lining up her body so that her hindhooves rested directly beside her mare’s. In this position, each mare could feel the heat of the other between their hindhooves.

As Babs Seed sucked on Apple Bloom's tongue, she opened her eyes to find her wife looking at her... looking at her with her eyelids half-open, and her long eyelashes flickering slowly, and her perfect eyes tunneling straight into her.

I love you, Apple Bloom said with those eyes.

I love you and I want you.

Babs Seed broke the kiss for a moment when she felt Apple Bloom's hindhoof stroke the side of her flank. She blushed and let out a whinny of pleasure when her wife teased the other flank the same way, then pressed her body completely against her, as if she wanted to meld with her, as if she wanted to melt and lose her own colors.

As if, tonight, they would no longer be Apple Bloom and Babs Seed, but be orange and red and yellow, a sunset and a fire engulfing each other while they burned away into the atmosphere and the void.

Apple Bloom kissed her snout as she slid that hindhoof between Babs Seed's pair, resting it right above her marehood as she said with those eyes, I want you now.

Babs Seed slid her forehooves around Apple Bloom's neck and her hindhooves around her waist as she opened up to her.

Opening up once more, on this bed, on this night, eight years later.

With her eyes half-closed and a peaceful smile on her muzzle, Babs Seed replied, I love you and want you too.

Take me now.

Apple Bloom shifted herself, the smaller to the larger, and straddled Babs Seed's hips.

They gasped when they felt each other.

Far from spring, they were nonetheless warm and wet, twin furnaces needing the fuel of their contact. Apple Bloom snaked her forehooves around Babs Seed's neck for support and exhaled, her breath sweet in her wife's nostrils. She took another moment, as if preparing herself, as if she were a virgin again, nervous but wanting, but needing, giving of herself to her wife for the first time in their entwined lives.

Babs Seed, sensing this, tightened her own grip on Apple Bloom, all four hooves clinging to her and bringing her close as they laid on their sides. She, too, felt herself cease for a second, relishing the sensation of Apple Bloom against her, muzzle and chest and stomach and marehood, reminding herself of the impossible truth that the mare who laid against her, hooves and hearts entwined, was hers, and she was hers, and they were each other's.

Apple Bloom looked up again into Babs Seed's eyes, concern shining in them. Are you sure, with your back—

Babs leaned in to kiss her on the lips—a soft but yearning kiss. Yes. I'm sure.

Take me now.

Apple Bloom smiled that perfect smile of hers, the way she smiled when she was with her friends or her family, when she looked in the sunset, when a plate of apple pie was laid before her, and when she looked at Babs, spoke to Babs, spoke of her, dreamed of her, dreamed with her, and was intimate with her—mind, soul, and body.

As she pressed her body against Babs Seed's, muffling their cries that were sure to come with a deep, passionate kiss, Apple Bloom bucked her hips, brushing vulva and labia and clitoris together against the same of those she loved, against those of the mare she loved.

A little moan escaped Babs Seed’s tongue in the kiss. Apple Bloom scooped up the words as they rolled off her wife's tongue, exchanging them for her own tiny gasp of pleasure. Babs bucked back, a little harder, burrowing and tunneling into her mare as she closed her eyes and reached for Apple Bloom's tongue with her own.

Her reward was the tight but wonderful pressure of forehooves against her nape and a tongue sliding against hers. Exchanging dominance, Apple Bloom suckled the tip of Babs Seed’s tongue as she grinded her hips again, more forcefully this time.

Crying out as Apple Bloom’s clitoris met and caressed her own, Babs Seed moved her forehooves up to her wife’s mane. She tugged lightly and kept her eyes closed, letting the smaller mare explore her mouth with a warm, wonderful tongue.

Mindful of any potential pain, Apple Bloom kept her own forehooves at Babs’s neck, using her hindhooves to kept them connected below. As she caressed the larger mare’s tongue with her own, thanking her over and over for all the gifts of her love, she began to grind a little harder, a little faster.

Coats of orange and yellow moved in synchronization along with two sets of hips as they connected. Babs Seed willed her eyes to stay closed, letting herself drown into the pleasure of Apple Bloom’s most intimate parts melding and grinding with her own. If it hadn’t been for the continued kiss, she would be taking refuge in her wife’s mane, away from the intense fire building between her hindhooves.

Apple Bloom doubled her speed, bucking into her mare as she held her close. Breaking the kiss, she moved her lips to Babs Seed’s left ear, nibbling from base to tip, then licking the nick gingerly.

“Haah! Aaah-hahh…” Her mind blanked by the tingling pleasure of her wife’s tongue on one of the most sensitive parts of her, Babs Seed moved her forehooves back down over Apple Bloom’s body. She continued to grind in time with her wife’s hips, though she focused more on pressure than speed, fighting the sore ache in her spine.

With each wonderful motion of Apple Bloom moving against and with her, two sets of lips intermittently meeting and entwining with her own, Babs Seed began to forget any notion of pain.

Letting her forehooves wander over Apple Bloom’s back, Babs Seed reached her flanks and squeezed. Apple Bloom moaned hotly into her sensitive ear in response, sending warm, tingling chills through her wife’s spine.

“Nnng… Haaah… Babsy…” Apple Bloom nickered as Babs Seed gripped the dock of her tail and tugged. Arching her back at the sweet mixture of pleasure and pain, she forced herself even closer to her mare, then began thrusting furtively, pressing her swollen clitoris against her wife’s and rubbing them back and forth.

Feeling her tongue flop out of her mouth, Babs began to pant, fighting the urge to scream out at her wife’s masterful lovemaking. Each thrust sent her own pearl grinding and pressing against Apple Bloom’s treasure. “Haaah… Bloom…” She clung tightly to her tail, pulling firmly but gently against its roots while her mare’s lips found her neck and ears over and over again.

“Shhh… Haaah…” Taking the opposite ear in her mouth, Apple Bloom nibbled gently, whispering as she continued to buck, “Y-yer doin’ great, sugar… Ohhh… Jus’ like that…”

Babs swallowed, breathing hard. “I… Haaaaah!” A white-hot bolt of pleasure shot through her, rising from the epicenter of her pleasure and spreading through her veins. Apple Bloom’s strokes, coupled with her lips and tongue and teeth, were making it impossible to communicate. “I’m, I’m—“

Shushing her again, Apple Bloom leaned her flanks back against Babs’s forehoof while she clung to her barrel, grinding their bodies and marehoods together. Sweat dripping down her forehead, her eyelids half-lidded in growing rapture, she looked into her wife’s eyes and said, struggling for coherence, “Haah! S’okay, jus’… Mmmm... Don’t stop…”

Panting, her fur slick with sweat, Babs turned her muzzle to Apple Bloom’s open neck and began kissing deeply, desperately. She distracted herself from the warm, throbbing pleasure between her hindhooves with a myriad of kisses, ranging from soft to rough, on her wife’s neck. The air hung thickly with their joint pheromones, estrogen filling her nostrils with an erotic but pleasing scent.

Though her climax loomed, Babs Seed, determined to meet it in time with her wife, fought the urge to release, bucking her hips against Apple Bloom’s while she pulled on her tail. When her wife's hips began to shake, she switched to her teeth, biting down on her shoulder.

Apple Bloom let out a low moan at the sensation and thrust her muzzle against Babs Seed’s, grabbing both sides of her head and forcing their lips together. Her hips trembled as she bucked and grinded furiously, her swollen clitoris throbbing so hard it hurt. When her wife gave one more forceful tug at her tail, she finally tumbled over the edge.

Burying her final cry of pleasure in their kiss, Apple Bloom spasmed as she came, grinding herself desperately against her mare for one last sensation of ecstasy. Her nectar mixed with Babs Seed’s own slick juices, dripping down their thighs and hindhooves onto the bed. She kissed her deeply, passionately, twisting and entwining her wife’s tongue with her own as she rode out her orgasm.

A few moments later, Babs Seed released Apple Bloom’s tail and moved her forehooves up to her waist, squeezing tightly as she reached her own edge. She held back her bellow and instead settled for a series of low groans, her tongue vibrating in the other mare’s mouth while she thrust back against her.

Waves of pleasure proliferated through them, uniting and entwining them and binding them further to the hoofbands on their left forehooves, blood rushing from their hearts to where they met down below.

As her climax ebbed away, replaced with a warm but comforting satisfaction, Apple Bloom pulled away, panting. Locking eyes with her mare, she couldn’t help but grin widely, relieved to see her mare in so much pleasure, not a drop of pain tainting their first lovemaking as a married couple.

“Haaah… Mmmm… You alright, Babsy?” Apple Bloom asked as she began to come down. Lying against her mare, she snuggled against their shared warmth, blushing when she both felt their shared juices matted on her inner thighs and smelled Babs Seed’s tantalizing nectar.

Breathless, Babs simply nodded, looking back into her wife with wide-eyed wonder. Beginning her own descent away from heaven, she struggled to catch her breath. While they laid there on their sides, flush against each other, she relished the heat of her wife’s body above and below against her own, never wanting it to end.

Apple Bloom sighed and slumped against her, resting her muzzle underneath her chin. “Ah hope Ah didn’t hurt yer back,” she began, pressing a forehoof against her chest, “but that was amazin’, sugarcube.”

Once her heart rate settled, Babs wrapped her forehooves around Apple Bloom’s waist, holding her close. “I’m fine, Bloom… Heh… Mo’ than fine, actually,” she added, blushing as she closed her eyes.

They laid there in silence again for a few moments, neither shifting position away from each other. Chest-to-chest, marehood-to-marehood they rested, basking in the afterglow.

A gentle murmur forced Babs Seed’s eyes open again. “Babsy…?”

Glancing down, she found Apple Bloom looking up at her. “Yes, Bloom?”

“Are ya…” Apple Bloom swallowed, then briefly glanced away before returning her eyes to her mare. “Are ya feelin’ alright?”

Confused, Babs answered slowly, “Yes… Why? Summat wrong?” Was I too rough? Did I hurt youze? O’… maybe it wasn’t good?

“Well…” Apple Bloom cleared her throat, then adjusted herself so that she was muzzle-to-muzzle with her mare. “It’s been a while… A lil' bit o’ a long while, actually, an’…”

Babs frowned. Oh no, maybe I was too rough wit’ her…

“An’…” The blush on her muzzle darkening to crimson, Apple Bloom looked away before finishing, “There’s somethin’ Ah’ve been wantin’ ta try… If yer feelin’ alright, wit’ yer back an’ all…”

Resisting the urge to sigh in relief, Babs smiled. “Sure, Bloom. What is it?”

Apple Bloom rubbed her forehooves together, avoiding her wife’s gaze. “Well…”

“Iffa dis is ‘bout dem toys Sweetie an’ Silva gave us fer a honeymoon present, I don’t think I’m up ta it,” Babs explained, almost wincing at the thought.

Apple Bloom giggled, shaking her head. "Ah'm glad they gave that one ta us in private an' Ah put it away befo' anypony could see it! Crazy fillies, Ah swear..."

"Heh, heh... Yeah..."

Either lying on her back or on top of her mare would surely keep her in bed but out of the bedroom for at least another week or so. That she hadn’t strained herself from carrying her mare and consummating their marriage was a miracle in and of itself. Sweetie Belle and Silver Spoon’s “gifts” would have to wait for another time.

Though her blush deepened, Apple Bloom shook her head. Gently rubbing that same thick tuft of fur on her mare’s chest, she leaned in and said in a sultry, thick whisper, “No, Ah was thinkin’ maybe we could... You know… Enjoy somethin’ together…”

Babs blinked. “Huh?”

Apple Bloom leaned closer and whispered in her ear, giggling, “Heard o’ the sixty-nine, sugarcube?”

Babs Seed’s ears pricked. Blushing, she muttered, “Uh… M-m-maybe…”

Apple Bloom rested her forehoof against her wife’s heart, smiling when she felt it quicken once more at her touch. Instead of explaining, she kissed the side of her muzzle, then trailed her other forehoof down to her mare’s stomach. When Babs reflexively pressed back against the touch, she dared to trace further down, stroking her gently but teasingly.

Arching her neck when Apple Bloom’s forehoof came to rest above her clitoris, Babs involuntarily bucked her hips, a soft groan escaping her lips. Though calmed, she was more than capable of being brought back up to the edge again.

Quite capable, Apple Bloom found as she slid the tip of her forehoof up and down her slit, teasing at her entrance. Babs clenched her jaws and grunted, instinctively bucking against her mare’s forehoof.

As she brought her forehoof back up to her muzzle, Apple Bloom grinned. A thin but noticeable trail of her wife’s nectar dripped down her fetlock. Keeping eye contact with her mare, she licked her fetlock slowly, drinking in every last drop.

“W-wowza…” Biting her lip, Babs held Apple Bloom close, transfixed by her taunting tongue lapping at her juices on her forehoof. In spite of her previous strain, she felt no more pain or fatigue, flushing with desire at the thought of her mare’s tongue diving into the source of her treat…

With a few more licks, Apple Bloom was finished. When Babs opened her muzzle to speak, her mare silenced her with her lips, immediately thrusting her tongue inside her mouth.

Babs groaned at the taste of herself on Apple Bloom's tongue. Without a moment of hesitation, her forehooves flowed down her wife's sides to her flanks and pulled up towards her own, mashing their hips together again.

“Mmmm…” Opening her eyes, Apple Bloom brought her forehoof to her mare’s cheek. A trail of saliva connected their tongues for the faintest, but most precious of seconds. She then broke that connection with a sly, seductive smirk and a gentle sigh. “You always taste so damn good…”

Babs rubbed the back of her neck. “Uh, th-thanks?”

Leaning in again, Apple Bloom whispered, “If ya don’t mind, darlin’, Ah’d like ta taste ya more…”

Babs nodded, swallowing in anticipation.

Breathing hotly into her left ear, Apple Bloom added, “Because Ah think you would sure love ta taste me…”

Chills galloped down her spine once more. Moving her muzzle to Apple Bloom’s ear, Babs Seed gripped her flanks tightly as she exhaled in reply. “Y-yes, I would like dat very much…”

“Then relax an’ stay on yer side like this. Ah’ll do the rest…”

Giving her a final, soft kiss on her muzzle, Apple Bloom broke free of her wife’s grasp, then began repositioning herself on the bed. Careful not to accidentally kick her mare as she spun around, she first scooted away, then rotated on her belly.

With her face now closer to Babs Seed’s hips, Apple Bloom crawled back over, resting her muzzle on her mare’s stomach and her forehooves on her inner flanks for support. At the same time, she spread her hindhooves, slinking one of them around Babs’s neck. A pair of strong forehooves wrapped around her waist without instruction.

Inching closer to Babs’s marehood, Apple Bloom inhaled her scent, sighing in pleasure at the familiar, tantalizing aroma. Her mouth practically watered, wanting nothing more than to dive straight in and send her mare flying alongside the pegasi in the growing night.

However, she held tightly to that final bit of self-restraint and asked softly, “Ready, sugarcube?”

Thrusting her muzzle between her mare’s open hindhooves, Babs responded with a slow lick up her inner flank, close to Apple Bloom’s own dripping marehood. Closing her eyes, she moaned at the taste and lapped again, closer this time.

Apple Bloom muffled a moan. Now that the last question had been answered, there was no need for restraint. Letting that last iota of hesitation fall away, Apple Bloom began kissing her way down to her mare’s clitoris, letting her lower stomach and inner flanks experience the soft touch of her lips.

At each kiss, Babs Seed wanted to bite her forehoof or groan. For far too long, she had needed this, wanted this. Healing, combined with their joint respect for a long-standing understanding with Applejack, prevented them from exchanging more than a few kisses these past few months.

While her wife flattened her wondrous, sacred tongue and began licking tauntingly closer to her, vulva and labia and clitoris all, it was all Babs Seed could do to focus on returning the pleasure, rather than grinding against Apple Bloom’s muzzle.

Breathing heavily, she tightened her grip on her mare’s waist and forced her closer. Apple Bloom tightened her grip on her neck in response, locking Babs in place, not that she minded. Closing her eyes, Babs Seed crossed the greatest distance that could ever be and began kissing her mare, first her stomach, then her inner flanks.

Then, Babs Seed's lips found her wife’s growing pearl. Gently, she took it into her mouth, running her tongue over it as she tugged lightly at her hood.

“Mmmf!” Squeezing around her mare's neck and flanks, Apple Bloom shuddered and bucked, panting at the incredible sensation of Babs Seed engulfing the most sensitive part of her. Visions of herself bucking furiously as her mare took her further, suckling and nibbling on her most delicate of flesh, filled her mind.

For a moment, she merely pressed herself further against her mare, wanting nothing more than to experience that bolt of lightning once more. Thankfully, she regained reality and dove right back in, determined to make her wife experience the utmost form of Heaven tonight.

While Babs Seed’s thick tongue moved next to her lips, stroking them gently while the tip prodded occasionally at her entrance, Apple Bloom focused on her mare’s slit, licking up and down all the way.

When she paused at the top, brushing the sensitive hood back to flick at her throbbing clit, Babs bucked her hips hard against her tongue. Groaning, Apple Bloom rubbed at her sore chin.

“S-sorry,” Babs whispered, almost inaudibly. The powerful mare loosened her grip on Apple Bloom’s waist, pulling her muzzle away. “I… I didn’t—”

Stroking her stomach, Apple Bloom gently shushed her. “It’s alright. Ah know ya didn’t mean it. Jus’ try an’ relax, okay? Ah promise Ah’ll let you come.” With a cheeky grin, she glanced over at her and winked. “Unless ya keep bein’ a bad mare…”

Blushing a deeper shade of red than Big Macintosh would ever see in the mirror, Babs repositioned herself. Giggling a little, Apple Bloom brought her mare’s hips close to her muzzle, then gently flicked her clitoris with her tongue.

"Ahhh… B-buck…" Fighting a shudder, Babs Seed closed her eyes again and picked up where she began, using her wide, thick tongue to tease all the way down to her mare’s entrance. Apple Bloom shivered and sighed at each stroke, continuing to trace circles around her wife's clitoris with her tongue.

With her eyes closed and the entire house silent but for their breath and ministrations, Babs Seed was lost to Equestria. Her universe was the sweet scent of Apple Bloom’s pheromones and juices filling both her nostrils and mouth. Each lick rewarded her tastebuds with the finest nectar she would ever taste—the one thing she craved more than anything else. It was the taste of her mare, her love, her wife, and, with each taste, she pushed that mare closer and closer to her zenith.

If there was one thing Babs Seed loved more than Apple Bloom’s taste, it was her cries. If the Most High blessed her with the curse of hearing only one thing for the rest of her life, it would be those moans and sighs she would request without a regret.

As Apple Bloom continued to become wet and slick, more of her translucent honey dripping down her folds, Babs Seed was rewarded with both closer licks and louder moans. Her wife’s tongue tap-danced around her clit, teasing her, bringing her further to the edge but no more.

“Haaah… Ahhh!” Barely able to concentrate, Babs opted to dive straight in, gently thrusting her tongue into Apple Bloom’s waiting, wanting marehood.

From above her came a shuddering sigh and, “Oh, Babs…”

Pressing her snout against her mare’s clitoris, Babs Seed swirled her tongue around, groaning in pleasure as her inner walls tried to grab the warm, wet intruder. Apple Bloom’s marehood tightened around her tongue at the same time that the mare herself began squeezing her neck, both sensations a slight mixture of pleasure and pain.

Before too long, Babs Seed withdrew her tongue to catch her breath, then plunged back in. On her second entrance, Apple Bloom’s soft, smooth lips wrapped around her clitoris, taking her into her mouth once more. Resisting the strong temptation to buck, Babs closed her eyes and focused, beginning to find her rhythm.

Apple Bloom gasped as Babs Seed began thrusting her tongue in and out of her, eluding her tightening inner walls. Waves of pleasure rocketed through her, sending her heart galloping. She moaned with Babs’s clitoris inside her mouth, vibrating it to the tune of her mare’s own groans.

“S-sugarcube… Nnng…” Determined to climb the stairway to Heaven with her, Apple Bloom moved one of her forehooves down to Babs Seed’s entrance, then prodded the tip of her forehoof inside. At the same time, she gently engulfed her pearl, taking all of her visible clitoris into her mouth.

“Haa-aah! Mmmf!” The need to buck and grind was becoming far too strong. By the skin of her teeth, Babs Seed maintained her focus, thrusting her tongue faster. Ignoring the wonderful sensation of her mare both suckling on her button and penetrating her gently, Babs doubled her speed, pushing against Apple Bloom’s swollen clitoris with each swirl of her tongue.

Her wife’s marehood tugged desperately at her slick tongue, clamping further each time. Soon, she would be caught—a thought that kept Babs Seed from erupting right then and there, wanting, no, needing to please her mare, to make her scream her name.

Unable to stop an instinctive yet slow bucking of her hips, Apple Bloom struggled against her own reins, feeling herself pulled closer and closer to the edge. In response, she pushed the tip of her forehoof further inside her wife, feeling her tighten and squeeze around her. At the same time, she caressed her pearl, using her flattened tongue to flick and suck the throbbing nub.

Rewarded with the increasingly loud cries of her mare, Apple Bloom doubled both her speed and suction, her thoughts dissolved into the primal instincts of love and lust. Modesty cast aside, she groaned around her wife’s clitoris and began roughly bucking against her muzzle, riding her for all she was worth.

Feeling herself squeezing around Apple Bloom’s forehoof at the same time as her mare tightened around her tongue, Babs Seed knew in a brief moment of lucidity that they were close, so damn close, and all she needed to do was keep her speed, keep her pressure, keep doing the exact same thing, thrusting and licking and sucking and pressing as Apple Bloom rode her muzzle and suckled and hoofed her, and then—

Which one clamped down first, they couldn’t tell. All Babs Seed felt was her tongue being held in place. All Apple Bloom realized was that the tip of her forehoof wouldn’t budge.

And, in that brief second, they came, one after the other, their second climax as wife and wife.

Cries of ecstasy filled their foalhood bedroom, incomprehensible tongues wagging and spasming in glossolalia of the highest. Hips bucked, muzzles grinded, and hooves tightened as they galloped together to that cliff in the night sky, flying together as thick waves of bliss crashed over and under and through them.

Pleasure traversing down her spine and spreading through her nerves, Babs Seed withdrew her muzzle at last, panting heavily. She held Apple Bloom’s waist tight and secure as her wife, pleasure of her own proliferating through every cell, slid out from inside her and pulled her muzzle away.

In the silence, they caught their breath, then caught eyes with each other.

“Haah… Aaah… D-dat was…”

“Wonderful...”

Spent, Apple Bloom wiggled out of her mare’s weakened grasp. She swung around again, careful with all four hooves, before resting on her belly, then pulling herself up to Babs Seed. The larger mare, still panting, opened her forehooves to her, which were instantly accepted.

Wife and wife, mare and mare held each other, coming together for a third time that night in hoof and lip, body and soul. They shared a long, passionate kiss, exchanging tastes between them as they held each other close, lying on their sides in the bed.

When Apple Bloom opened her eyes to find Babs Seed looking at her, nothing had changed from that night eight years ago.

Though the filly in her forehooves had long become a mare—and not just any mare, but a beautiful mare, a wonderful mare, the mare who saved her life—there was still that same spark in her eyes, that same glint, that same light in those same gems that made her blush, that made her sigh, that made her feel safe and warm and loved.

If somepony would’ve told Apple Bloom eight years ago that she was going to marry that filly someday, she would have laughed them straight to Tartarus.

Here, on the other side of Heaven, there was no better place.

Apple Bloom, here with Babs Seed, was right where she needed to be.

And Apple Bloom, sighing like a furnace as she settled against her mare’s chest, couldn’t have imagined anything else.

All the aches and pains of her foalhood, of her uncertainty, her doubts, her fears—all of them dissipated into the nothingness they were as she laid there with her wife, the mare she was destined to marry.

Somewhere, Apple Bloom knew, there were two mares and a stallion smiling down at them, as were others, precious others. And while she was far from ready to meet them, the fact that they were here in this moment of love and union was enough to bring tears of joy to her eyes.

Looking up, Apple Bloom found Babs Seed smiling down at her, a pair of tears shining in her own emeralds.

Letting them fall, Apple Bloom whispered, "Ah love you so much, Babs Seed."

Letting her tears match her mare’s, Babs Seed whispered back, "I love youze too, Apple Bloom."

They wiped each other’s tears, smiling all the while.

When their eyes were dry, Apple Bloom asked, "Do ya think you can sleep on yer side?"

Babs Seed shook her head. "I... I don't think so. I think I need to be on ma stomach still."

"Alright, sugarcube."

With Apple Bloom's gentle hooves holding her, Babs flopped onto her stomach, then inched closer to her mare. Wrapping her forehooves around her neck, she leaned down, snuggling into her wife's chest and neck.

Carefully, Apple Bloom embraced her back, keeping her close, and warm, and safe, like she always had and always would, happy and eternal.

“Goodnight, Bloom,” Babs Seed whispered, willing but unable to fight a losing battle against her heavy eyelids.

Apple Bloom stroked her mane. “Goodnight, Babsy.”

Here, in the silence of their aftermath, Apple Bloom held the mare who had saved her, so long ago, and she had saved even longer ago, together at last in the eyes of the All.

When one ended, the other began, a blend no more of coats and eyes and blood, but of hearts—strong, steady, surpassing everything that had been thrown their way, with no intention of ever coming apart or ceasing to be.

It was not the end tonight, nor even the end of their beginning—it was the beginning of the beginning, starting over, tabula rasa, having been born as two and now brought into one.

And, as she began slowly slipping into sleep, Apple Bloom knew she had nothing to fear in this new beginning.

Under Luna’s unsuspecting moon, in spite of everything they had been through and would continue to fight through, in spite of the healing, and the memories, and the nightmares, Apple Bloom knew that they had friends, family, and each other.

And… love.

And love, as always, is enough.

Everythin' will be alright, Apple Bloom thought as she closed her eyes, as long as Ah have you, Babs Seed.

As long as Ah have you.