Sireen purred and shifted ever so slightly in her sleep. The amount of warmth that encompassed her was perfect. Moving any part of her body would send rivulets of pleasure through her body. She couldn't remember the last time that she had slept this well since moving into the barracks at Canterlot Castle. In fact, she had never slept very comfortably in her bed to begin with, so this was a gift from above.

Normally when one lives in a military structure, the sounds of other ponies nearby could become quite the sleep hindrance. Snoring, coughing, mumbling, and growling – all types of sounds made themselves heard when the time called for it. Sireen vaguely remembered her first few weeks at Canterlot castle, back when she had just passed her training and become fully fledged. She had never heard the night become so noisy when beds were filled and ponies stopped moving.
Sireen ignored the memory and nuzzled into her fluffy, furred pillow.

“Mmmm… best morning... ever...” she mumbled.

Her pillow shifted slightly.

“Mmm… you said it, honey....”
...
...
...
Sometimes a single sentence can just destroy the most peaceful of mornings.

Sireen's eyes snapped open at the same time that Iron Crest realized he had replied to a statement from a pony that, quite frankly, should not be in his bed to begin with. Both ponies tried to move at the same time and somehow ended up tangled even closer together. Sireen's snout was right up against Iron's, and his forelegs were over her shoulders and wrapped around her neck. The pillow Sireen thought she'd been snuggling had been in fact, Iron's chest, and the pillow Iron thought he was resting on, turned out to be the top of Sireen's head.

“I-Iron Crest!? What are you doing in the barracks!?” Sireen hissed with embarrassment, she flailed a bit harder and Iron tried to let go, but only succeeded in getting his hoof stuck between her good wing and her shoulder.

“Sireen! Wh-what are you doing in my bed?!” he squeaked.

“You both appear to be cuddling; I must say it is adorable to watch. Plus, you two seem to be trying to eat each other's snouts at the same time. It's kind of interesting to observe really.”

Sireen and Iron whipped their heads over to the nearby recliner to find Crisp laying on his belly with his little hooves tucked underneath him. He was levitating a crayon next to his cheek and tapping it against his chin in thought as he smiled down at a piece of parchment. Both adults blushed heatedly and tried to break apart even quicker. Such hasty action ended with the results of a head-butt, a knee to the stomach, two groans, and two winged ponies flailing wildly off a couch and to the floor. Add Crisp's chuckling to the mix and it left a dense level of embarrassment in the room.

To his credit, Iron had enough alertness present to make sure Sireen landed on him instead of the other way around. He had already hurt her once by not paying attention; a second time would spell disaster for him.

Crisp's chuckling ceased, and he jumped to his feet. He flicked his ears down in frustration and pointed at the pair quickly. “You guys! I was trying to capture the moment! Now what am I gonna draw?” The colt mumbled and levitated a half-done picture up to his snout and began scrutinizing it.

Sireen finally managed to pull apart from Iron, and the two ponies quickly stood and backed a few feet away from each other. Iron spoke first, rubbing a foreleg with his other hoof and looking away with his cheeks cherry red.

“S-sireen… uh… I... that was....well....”

Sireen was no closer to forming single sentences herself. She flushed red, pinned her ears back against her neck, and looked down at her hooves. Her tail flipped around and covered them just as briskly. “Iron, I...I don't know what came over me last night. I was... I was just really happy to see you.... We uh... we had our energy up and... it was... er....” The mare closed her mouth and bit her lip, wondering how the heck she had managed to get caught in such a predicament in only two days.

Iron took several seconds to look between his son and Sireen. His face said he was flustered and nervous, and his body movements only seemed to verify that he was feeling those exact emotions. He took a deep breath and then held it for several seconds.

Sireen dared a glance up and found Crisp was still mumbling about his picture, while Iron was clenching his eyes shut and had his cheeks puffed out. She would have found the expression more humorous if not for the awkward situation she had woken up to. ‘His chest is so soft too...’ She flicked an ear at the random thought.

Iron let the breath out a few seconds into it and sighed afterwards. “O-okay... um… recap. We got back to my place, ended up falling asleep on the couch–”

“Together,” Crisp interrupted.

Iron frowned at his son and nodded. “Er, yes, together.... That... it wasn't what we were planning on doing, was it, Sireen?” When he looked at Sireen with a firm expression, she nodded quickly with a false smile.

“Oh, uh, yes! We were just very tired last morning, Crisp. Um… and then–”

“And then you and Dad lied to a foal about your obvious feelings for each other to pass the awkwardness off as nothing unusual for this household,” Crisp broke into the conversation again. The colt looked at both adults with the flattest look a foal could give.

Iron dropped his jaw in horror, his cheeks turning crimson as he slowly turned his head and stared wide-eyed at Crisp like his son had sprouted a beak and two wings suddenly.

Sireen blinked, sat down rather suddenly and simply blushed. “Y-you actually have feelings for me?” she whispered nervously. Her chest fur puffed up against her hopes it would not, and her tail started swishing happily behind her. ‘Darnit! Stop wagging your tail ,mare! You’re gonna give it away!’ Sireen forced all her willpower into keeping eye contact with Iron while she physically put a hoof on her tail.

Iron was gaping like a fish out of water, looking from Crisp to the floor and back to Sireen. His ear tips burned with embarrassment as he growled at his son. “Okay, Crisp. Go to your room. Now!”

He pinned his ears back and tried to nudge Crisp off the chair, but Crisp leaped off the chair and ran for the kitchen door, and stopping short in front of it spun around. Glancing back with his hind hooves he kicked it open and grinned when the scent of freshly baked food wafted into the living room and assaulted the older ponies’ noses. Sireen's eyes widened as she smelled the different scents mingling around her. She clutched her stomach with a hoof as it growled pitifully.

Crisp puckered his lip out and made his eyes the size of dinner plates. “B-but I made breakfast for you guys and everything! Y-you're not gonna hurt my feelings by saying no to breakfast made by a foal, r-right?” Crisp mentally high fived himself when his father groaned and started bonking his head into the chair cushion while grumbling and clutching his stomach as well.

Sireen stood and slowly crept up to the kitchen doorway, trying to sneak a peek inside. What she saw made her mouth salivate. The kitchen had been cleaned and scrubbed spotlessly, and the dishes put away. On the table was a set of plates stacked with pancakes, warm and fluffy as if they had been brought directly out of the oven not a few minutes ago. The breaded bounty was slathered in syrup, butter, and several assortments of fruits and nuts that Sireen couldn't quite pick out from the wall of aromas. To the left of the plethora of pancakes was a glass container of orange juice, pulp free too. Three placemats were set at the sitting area.

“Oh, you sly little scamp,” Sireen mumbled and kept slowly walking into the kitchen.

Crisp proudly trotted past her with his tail held high. He quickly used his magic to pull a chair out for the mare.

‘He is just buttering you up for the killing blow, girl.’ Sireen giggled and nodded to Crisp. ‘Ooh, but I think I could die today.’ “Such a little gentlepony. Thank you, sir.”

Crisp scuffed a hoof on the floor and smiled. “T-thanks.”

Sireen sat down and let Crisp scoot her chair in before he scampered over to... the other side? She looked at the chair on her right and she smirked. The chair was at the end of the table. “Right, now I get it. You want Iron to sit between us, huh?”

She watched as Crisp scrabbled his way up onto the chair, and then he stood on his hind hooves and put his front ones on the table next to his plate. He nodded and looked back to the door for a second before leaning in and whispering to her.

“Daddy has a really big crush on you, by the way.”

Sireen giggled when the little foal winked overly so. “Ya don't say?” She grinned and watched Iron enter the kitchen.

He had been trying to hold a firm expression as he came into view, probably intent on reprimanding Crisp. His expression shattered when he looked at the food. Sireen giggled more when he opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed it, looked to Sireen with a hoof raised in question, but when she shrugged and pointed to Crisp, he just stared, slowly walked up to the table and then sat slowly. After a moment he spoke up, frowning at the food.

“Okay, I admit it. Breakfast looks very good Crisp. However, don't try to butter me up. You were very rude back there, mister. I expect an apology.” He looked to Crisp who looked like he'd been slapped.

The colt went from shocked to frowning very quickly. “I don't need to apologize for anything! I said the truth, and you taught me to always tell the truth!” Again Crisp lived up to his name and silenced the table. He slowly ran a hoof in circles across his plate while puffing out his cheeks.

“Besides, grown-ups are terrible at saying how they feel. Figured I'd save you the trouble, Dad.”

Sireen gulped and looked to Iron.

Iron stared at his son with both confusion and a bit of frustration. He rubbed his hoof into his temples and sighed. “Crisp, that’s not the point. It is not okay to–”

“C-can you deny it?” Sireen whispered.

Iron looked at her with a large helping of fear and Crisp smiled faintly. Sireen ignored him for the moment and locked eyes with Iron.

“Wh-what?” Iron's voice choked out the word. His ears waggled nervously from side to side, and she worried that her combined efforts with Crisp might push him too far into a corner. She'd have to take this road gently.

Sireen swallowed and reached out to the plate of pancakes. She slid two off the stack and onto his plate. He watched, hypnotized. Sireen then slid two more pieces onto Crisp's plate and smiled gently to him. Crisp smiled back, and began attacking his food with a fork and magic.

“C-can you deny that you have feelings for me, Iron? Honestly?” When he merely blushed and slanted his gaze to his plate, she continued quietly. “I mean... we did… um… kiss last night.” She ignored the gagging sound Crisp made, and waved a hoof playfully at the colt. Iron seemed unable to answer, so she smiled and placed her hoof on one of his. The little intake of breath he made sent flutters of warmth through her heart. “M-maybe it was rushed. Maybe we went too fast...but...but even if you don't, I know that I–”

“W-what if I do?” Iron asked. His voice was quiet, and it was fragile, but she felt the shiver that went through his hoof and across to hers. He was scared. When she looked up, she actually found Iron wasn't looking at her. His eyes were locked on his son. Copious amounts of worry and fear were present in those orbs, and Sireen realized the question wasn't directed at her. Next to him, Crisp had stopped poking at his food and was slowly chewing his last bite cautiously. He'd been so vocal a second or two ago but the moment he got the spotlight, he seemed so small.

Crisp swallowed and dropped his silverware onto his plate. He hopped down from the table, and then clambered up into his dad's lap. Iron sighed and the two of them hugged. Sireen felt her chest fur rise with pride as Crisp sniffled and nuzzled into his dad's chest. The little colt was happy.

“J-just promise m-me one thing, okay, dad?” He leaned back and stamped a hoof against Iron's chest firmly.

Iron smiled down at his son and nodded. He snuffled his son's mane and chuckled softly. “I'll try, Crisp. What is it?”

Crisp paused. His hoof lifted off and his eyes lowered for a moment before he looked at Sireen. He was smiling, yes, but he was apprehensive. It was clear to her that Crisp was struggling to speak, and that was rare. She took a moment to scarf down some food, taking an extra healthy bite of the doughy goodness.

Crisp sucked in his breath and hugged his dad around the neck. “Just... Just promise me that this mommy won't leave us like the last two, did.”

Sireen choked on her pancakes.

‘THE LAST TWO?!’

#

Sireen paced back and forth in the living room while Iron and Crisp cleaned up the breakfast. It turned out that Crisp had not been the one to make the meal, and had instead begged their next door neighbors for help. The two older ponies were more than happy to help, and had snuck in while Iron and Sireen dozed comfortably on the couch together.

‘His chest was really soft too.’ Sireen growled and took a moment to shake herself. She winced as her wing twanged. She couldn't wait to be back on duty. ‘Idle minds tend to wander, and I don't need to wander.’ She flicked an ear irritably and looked at the kitchen doors. Behind them, she could hear Iron Crest chatting with his son. It didn't sound negative, more like he was trying to ease the awkwardness out of the situation. It wouldn't help though; Crisp Words had brought up something far more awkward than dating. He'd brought up other mares. Sireen was not used to the feeling she now held in her chest. She used to think she was above such feelings and base emotions. Sadly, Crisp had proven her wrong, and Sireen was jealous, she was angry, and she was confused. Why hadn't Iron told her that there was an ex-marefriend?!

‘Well, that is obvious if you think about it. He didn't want to scare you off!’

Sireen flipped around and paced in the opposite direction, heading up the stairs on a new path. “That is stupid; I wouldn't be scared of another mare. I'm a bat-pony, after all!” she murmured.

Her inner voice however was bent on making her see reason. ‘Ah, but no mare likes hearing that a stallion failed another mare. He might fail you too!’

She snarled and flexed her good wing out, gnashing her teeth into the velvet fur, she began to preen in an attempt to relax. “I don't know that he failed the previous mare. He might have found something about her that he didn't agree with, is all!” She almost bit through her wing and winced, drawing back.

‘Go ask him then. Why are you up here alone when you could be finding out the truth, hmm?’

That made her pause. Sireen lowered her rear to the floor and sat there, in the middle of the hallway, honestly nervous about doing so. She lowered her wing claw and nibbled on it. There were a million reasons that could be why he broke up with the previous mare. She could have been crazy, she could have tried to hurt Crisp! Sireen felt her lips curl into a grimace as she thought about that, and for a moment she contemplated storming into the kitchen and demanding where she'd hurt the little foal. The reality of the situation brought her back down from her anger once more though, and she sighed.

“I don't have all the pieces, and I need more to truly see what is going on in this little family,” she mumbled. Standing up, she turned and slowly walked down the steps and back into the living room.

She had just gotten comfortable on the couch when Iron Crest peered around the now-open door and gave her a look. His ears drooped slightly. “You… um… you alright, Sireen?”

Sireen frowned and didn't look at him. She kept her eyes on the coffee table in front of her and flipped her ears back as an answer. She heard Iron's footsteps as he came up and sat next to the couch. His hooves shuffled nervously in the carpet.

“I… um... I'm sorry you had to hear that; it really made breakfast awkward.” Iron chuckled nervously but it faded away as Sireen kept up her frown. Somewhere in the kitchen, Crisp was moving around with dishes. “Sireen, really I'm sorry about all this. This wasn't how I wanted you to find out, and I understand if–”

“What happened?” Sireen lifted her gaze to the wall in front of her.

Iron visibly flinched at her tone. “Ah. Well, um… we broke up, you see. It was after she... well....”

“After she what?” Sireen slanted her eyes to meet his, and they were firm and unyielding. Sireen watched as the stallion rubbed a foreleg and looked down.

“I... She was... she wasn't right for Crisp. You need to understand that first, Sireen. I met her at a... a pub. We hit it off really–” Iron flinched back when Sireen growled.

“You met this mare at a bar!?” Sireen stood and began pacing back and forth near the window, turning her back to Iron. Her inner voice was now on haywire.

‘A pub!? So he pulled a hooker from the streets and just had some fun?‘

‘Oh no, that is too simple. She must have been a spy from another country, bent on kidnapping Crisp and–

Nah, she was a druggy; clearly a seedy type hell-bent on stealing the fortune!’

Sireen shook her head. Her thoughts were getting bent out of shape and it wasn't healthy. She looked back at Iron to find he had started bonking his head into the couch cushion and grumbling to himself.

“Iron.”

Said stallion looked up. Sireen kept her frown up and turned to face him. Her voice was calmer now, but it still held an edge of sharpness to it.

“What happened? Did she hurt Crisp?”

Iron Crest's eyes widened and he shook his head rapidly. “NO! Heavens above no! Crashing Bottle was just too rowdy. She'd stay up late and throw parties when I was at work. Crisp and I would come home and find the place torn apart by ponies we didn't even know. Another problem was that she wanted us to switch back to being day ponies and even said she'd confront Noble's family about it. I didn't want any trouble so I broke it off with her.”

Sireen waited a moment to let him breath and then she spoke. “Did it go smoothly?” She raised a brow when Iron chuckled.

“With a name like Crashing Bottle, how well do you think it went? Sure, I didn't have to get the Guard involved, but she didn’t have to wake up the neighbors with her yelling and tantrum. You are waaay more mellow then she ever could hope to be–” Iron paused and then realized what he'd said when Sireen flipped her ears back.

“Excuse me? What was that last part?” Sireen began walking slowly towards Iron, inwardly laughing as the stallion's wings flared and he waved his hoofs in front of him.

“I-I meant to say that you… um...you are... that is....”

“Yes?” Sireen came within hoofs reach of him and she grinned. Iron gulped.

“Um... You're prettier than her?”

“You're digging the hole deeper, Iron.” Sireen frowned.

The sound of a page flipping caught their attention.

“Rule number one of dating a mare. Never judge her based off a mare you dated previously. It will only incite anger, jealously, and random bouts of primal rage... especially if they are in season?”

Sireen and Iron looked back and found Crisp Words had slipped into the conversation again and was reading from a book he'd pulled from somewhere. Sireen blushed hotly and Iron dashed forward and snatched the book from his son quickly.

“Crisp! Where on earth did you get this book!?”

Crisp shrugged. “It was in the library under Romance. I figured if I'm gonna be a better smooth talker than my dad, I need to be more prepared.”

Ah, Crisp, the destroyer of pride. Any retort Iron may have had, died in his throat as Crisp trotted past him and walked up to Sireen. While Iron blubbered near the kitchen door, Sireen watched as Crisp nervously came up to her. He stopped a few feet from her and looked down to his feet, looking up at her every few seconds with a blush.

“U-Um... Sireen...?” he mumbled.

Sireen was unsure of what was happening now, but she could feel her belly warming up as the little foal made himself small in front of her. She felt an odd sensation in her chest as he lowered his ears and looked... scared? Sireen cocked her head to the side slightly. ‘Why would he be afraid?’

“Yes? What is it, Crisp?” Why did her voice sound funny? She never sounded like this! It was like her pitch and volume had vanished and she could only sound like a... like....

A mother...

Crisp inched forward on his belly, keeping his head low and his eyes on hers. “Could… um... c-could you answer Dad? Please?”

Sireen felt herself lowering to the floor to lay on her belly. Her head felt funny too. Not bad, just... warm, content. Happy? Yes. Her head felt happy. “What did I not answer, Crisp?” There it was again. Her voice was gentle, kind, it even had a purr to it! She was purring now.

‘WHY AM I PURRING!?’ Her thoughts screamed. regardless of her body acting up, she couldn't deny that it felt right. She watched as Crisp inched to her side and nosed along her wing. Reflexively, she lifted it and he wormed his way to her belly.

“I... I want a momma again.” Crisp whimpered. It was barely audible. His eyelids lowered and he nickered cutely, nuzzling into her belly fur in that way that only foals can, using the whole of his cheek to brush along her fur. Without warning, Crisp nibbled the crook of her thigh and nickered softly again. Sireen gasped as he did so. It was not a loud gasp, nor a silent one. More of a sound made to show she was startled. Her leg even jerked out suddenly. She had not told her leg to do that!

Yet it had done so.

Peering cautiously under her wing, she found Crisp was curled into a tight sleeping position, with his head resting atop her thigh. Light little sounds escaped his mouth and his eyes were closed. His left ear began flicking every few seconds, and Sireen's fur stood up as she realized what he'd done.
The weird movements, the cautious approach, the nervous nickering... The nuzzling. Sireen knew what this feeling in her chest was, and she was okay with it now. Her wing lowered over the foal and she gently nuzzled his rump.

“Little scamp,” she whispered before brushing aside his mane and kissing him just above his horn. When she turned around, she found Iron had been watching the whole scene with awe blanketed across his face. He sat there with his wings puffed out on both sides and his cheeks flushed red. His chest fur stood at full attention, and his tail was wagging slowly back and forth. He was crying too, with tears streaking down his cheeks silently as he forced back a sob. Sireen would never tell a soul. Iron stood and crossed the space between them on wobbly knees and twitching wings. His arms nervously stretched out around Sireen's neck and he pulled her head to his chest.

‘So...soft,’ she thought. Iron held her held there for several moments before lowering his head and gently cupping her chin. She knew what was coming and she felt her good wing slowly rising, while her injured one tugged at the bandages.

‘This is it... here is where it begins,’ she thought as her heart hammered in her chest. Iron's hoof paused and he gazed at her for a moment, before they both closed their eyes. Just before their lips met, Iron whispered, “Thank you.” Then...they kissed.

#

All moments in life, whether they be good or bad, must end. If they do not, they will feel false and fake. Crisp didn't care, Sireen didn't care, and neither did Iron. The trio lay there in the living room for well over an hour before Iron gasped and stomped a hoof.

“Sweet Cheese and Crackers!” Without saying anything else, he removed himself from the pony pile and stood. Sireen blinked and lifted her head, watching in confusion as he walked around her and lowered his head to her wing. When he nuzzled it, Sireen surprised all of them when she snarled loudly. It was a feral, protective noise, guttural and deep. She'd never snarled like that before! Reflexively her ears snapped back and her leg cocked inwards, guarding the foal underneath.

Iron did what any sensible stallion would do. He squeaked and shot back a good foot or so, landing on the chair like a coiled up cat. He stared at her in shock, his eyes at their largest. “Sireen, what the—? Did you just snarl at me?” he asked in a whisper.

Sireen felt that weird feeling surge through her chest again, and she had to fight to not snarl again. Motherly instincts, as she had decided to title them, were weird emotions. She knew Iron was a safe pony, she knew he wasn't going to harm Crisp, and yet she had just nearly kicked his teeth in for no good reason. It was even more fearful that these reactions seemed primal. She had no control over them, they just activated!

‘Protecting a foal is a very good reason to kick a stallion's—’ Sireen clamped a lid over her emotions and thoughts, and lifted her wing to reveal a sleeping Crisp. She purred immediately when the little scamp murmured and nuzzled deeper into her side. ‘Any deeper and he'll be between my... not going to finish that thought. Nope. Not happening. Thinking Iron now, yup.’ Sireen lowered her ears and looked as guilty as possible. “S-sorry. My instincts kicked in and I... um… overreacted?”

Iron chuckled nervously and pawed the chair. “Er, right. I'll just remember to warn you when I need my son from now on. Um… speaking of which, can you wake him up for me please?” Iron asked meekly. He watched as Sireen looked from Crisp, to Iron, then back, and then back to Iron.

Sireen giggled with a hoof to her lips. “You can come over here, ya know? I won't bite.”

Iron adamantly shook his head. “Oh no, that is quite alright. Besides I’m not so sure your maternal side would honor that statement of no biting the colt friend.”

Sireen raised a brow. “Colt friend, huh? If memory serves, I never said yes or no to dating you.” She smirked when Iron's chest deflated slightly.

He took a moment to think of a counter argument before pointing a hoof at her. “W-well you let me kiss you, so that counts as a legally binding agreement between two ponies! Therefore we are already colt friend and mare friend!” he said triumphantly.

Sireen grinned widely. “Is your mother still alive, Iron?” she asked sweetly.

Iron faltered, thought for a moment and then shivered. “Ew! No! Stop that train of thought right now. I am not paired with my mother because she gives me kisses of affection and I accept them.”

Sireen let her laughter come out unbridled and she rolled onto her side, jarring Crisp from his sleeping position and making the foal face plant into the carpet. Sireen was instantly sitting up and nuzzling him. “Sorry! Sorry! I was just...We were… um....” She looked to Iron but found no support as the pegasus was now dealing with his own peals of laughter. Sireen looked down at Crisp who was rubbing his eyes with a hoof. “Oops.” Sireen said bluntly.

Crisp mumbled something about noisy ponies and tried to curl up into her side again, but she stood up and halted the action. Crisp then did something that tugged on her heartstrings violently. Curled up in that foal-like pose, warm and cute with his ears splayed back, he yawned. Because of this minute action, a little sound came out of his mouth. It was the closest sound he had ever made that came close to a bat pony foal’s chirp. Iron watched in stunned silence as Sireen's maternal instincts instantly kicked in. She practically chittered and squeaked. She pranced in place for a few seconds, then her head shot down and she began nuzzling him all over, purring madly and nibbling along his neck. For the most part Crisp leaned into the affections, enjoying the attention, until she opened her mouth and her fangs touched his neck.

Any foal that is ever picked up by their scruff does one thing when this happens: they go still. Be it a griffon chick, a foal, or a dragon hatchling, they all go stock still. Crisp did the same as Sireen elevated him by the scruff and pranced over to Iron. For the most part, Iron had reined in his mirth and was now overcome with fatherly pride as the batmare came towards him with his child. It felt good to see, felt good to know Sireen was part of their family, and it felt good to finally feel that emptiness in his chest vanish. He'd needed that feeling to go away for some time now.

Sireen deposited Crisp on the couch next to his father and smiled at him.

He shook his head a few times and then looked up at her with a lopsided smile. “Mom?”

Sireen felt her breath catch for a moment, before she let it out and nuzzled him. “Yes, little one?”

Crisp giggled and leaned against his dad, who looped a foreleg around the foal and gave him a gentle noogie.

“N-Nothing, Just wanted to know I could call you that without causing the conversation to die.”

They all chuckled at that before Iron gasped again and nudged his son. “I forgot! Again! Crisp, you have school today and you are late by almost an hour and a half!” Iron scooped his son up onto his back and trotted to the door.

Sireen followed, unsure of what to do in said sudden situation. “Will he get in trouble?” she asked.

Iron shook his head and unlocked the door before heading down the hall with her by his side. On his back, Crisp had magically buckled himself in. Two magical strands ran around his dad's chest and up both sides before looping their way around Crisp's body. The foal waved happily at Sireen while they walked and she smirked.

Iron spoke up as they reached the stairs and descended them. “Not technically, no, but they will be slightly worried I imagine. Crisp has never been late before,” Iron said with a hint of pride etched into his voice.

Sireen nodded, allowing him to take the lead. “I see. Well, we best not have a repeat of this then. I wouldn't want to ruin your perfect schedule now, would I?” She spoke it to Crisp who nodded and then Iron spoke again.

“On the other side of this scenario, I am late for work, something I also have never done before.”
At Sireen's worried look he draped a wing over her back and pulled her close. She purred and leaned against him. “It shouldn't be a problem. I'll explain what happened and things will sort themselves out, don't worry.” He slipped into the cafe area and unlocked the front door, letting Sireen out first and then locking it behind himself. “As for you, Sireen, I would recommend getting your bandages refitted and renewed at the infirmary. They are a little... messy.”

Iron said it with as much tact as he could in that moment, so Sireen gave his neck a gentle nibbling in response. “Nnngh... nnyaaa... S-Sireen no... not nngh no!” A bubble of laughter escaped his mouth and Iron pulled away and flapped his wings, elevating himself a few feet or so above her.

She stopped walking and tried to snap at his hooves, but he went higher. She harrumphed up at him. “No fair!”

“Says the mare who tickled me while I'm in a hurry.” Iron grinned.

Sireen grinned back. “Says the stallion who is trying to leave without giving me a goodbye kiss!”

Iron actually paused at that, tapping his chin whilst going higher. “One kiss a night should be good enough. Bye!”

As he took off into the distance, Sireen snarled playfully, stamping her front hooves into the ground twice.

“You are so dead when you get home!”

#

Sireen grumbled and thumped her head into the wall for a third time. She had wandered out of the ritzy district, taking care to dodge away from Fancy Pants and Fleur’s home in case the mare felt playful again. Her trot had taken her uptown and closer to the castle, where she needed to go. Once there, she found herself corralled by two unicorn doctors who then ushered her into a medical bay where she had apparently been requested for check-ups almost three hours prior to her arrival.

Considering no one knew where Iron Crest lived save Luna and a select few, it made sense that she had fell off the radar. Regardless of her disappearance, the doctors refitted her with new bandages, a bone-mending solution that tasted like liquid chalk, and a slip of paper that detailed exercises she should start doing to keep the muscles in good condition.

After escaping the clutches of medical ponies that insisted she stay at the castle, Sireen visited her captain and checked up with him. While he was pleased to hear she was not majorly harmed, he was upset with her disregard for protocol and had reprimanded her firmly on doing so again. Once that had been taken care of, she had gone back to Iron's house and found out a problem. He had locked her out of the cafe, and she had no spare key just yet. Sireen had been planning to move her stuff (however small the amount) to Iron's home before he got back from work. Without being able to access the structure left her high and dry for anything to do for the next couple of hours.

“Why” *thump* “did it have to” *thump* “be a wing that I broke?” *thump* Sireen sniped in frustration. She paused in another attempt to hit her head and frowned, rubbing her face with a hoof. Hurting other parts of herself certainly was not going to help her any more. For a few seconds she contemplated sitting guard at the cafe door like normal, but then she threw that out. Guards could not work when on medical leave and could actually get fined for doing so. Celestia had made such a rule when her guards began showing signs of ‘no outside life’ and as per the usual, when Luna returned, her guards were given the same rule to follow. Sireen stood and walked across the street to Mrs. Fuzzdrought's gate and peered through its gaps.

“Stupid rule really. Now where is that soda can?” she mumbled.

When it failed to come into view, she frowned and lifted a hoof to the buzzer that was set in the wall to her right. It clicked and static came to her ears for a moment before Mrs. Fuzzdrought's voice scratched over.

“Yes, who is it?” Her tone was dry, bored beyond comprehension. The words had been drawn out raggedly and with no energy. That made Sireen smile lightly.

“Sireen Wind, ma'am,” she said clearly. There was a clatter of noise on the receiving end and Sireen smirked when a few curses came across the line before the plump mare's voice popped out again.

“Sireen? What are you doing at my gate?”

Accusatory tone, right. Sireen pushed the button and spoke. “I came to pick up something I forgot while over here previously. May I come in?”

“...”

Sireen blinked slowly and leaned forward a smidgen, waiting for a reply.

“Are you alone?”

Sireen smiled and clicked the button once more. “Are you, ma'am?”

“Don't play coy with me! I am hardly in the mood for your usual antics, Sireen. Are. You. Alone?”

Sireen rolled her eyes and replied, “Yeah, I am most definitely by myself out here, ma'am.”

“Come inside, I need to talk with you.”

The line went dead and Sireen leaned back up to her full height as the gate's lock mechanism disengaged and the bars slowly opened for her. After slipping through and watching them close firmly, Sireen waltzed over to the tree and found to her dismay that the soda can had been removed. She sighed and walked to the door. She entered and closed it behind her, taking care to lock the door behind her. She traversed the few hallways to Mrs. Fuzzdrought's office and then when she reached it, she knocked three times.

After several seconds and no reply, Sireen knocked again, louder this time. When after ten seconds of no sound from the room before her, Sireen left and wandered down to her bedroom. The door was slightly ajar and Sireen had to dodge a few random scraps of food packaging as she reached the threshold.

‘Great! She's on one of her emotional binges again. Why did I come here agai–” Sireen pawed at the ground.

“Enter, Sireen, I know you're there.” Without a speaker between the two mares, Sireen could tell she'd gotten the pattern of speech completely wrong. Pushing the door open, Sireen laid eyes on the mare she'd come to recognize as her boss. Mrs. Fuzzdrought was nestled under blankets on her side at the left edge of the bed. Her eyes looking out the window that looked over her backyard area, her ears splayed back and her expression one of dejection. Her mane and tail were frazzled with several strands of fur pointing out in random directions. Her cheeks were red and puffy, yet it looked like she had shed all her tears already and was beyond that stage. Several wads of used tissue paper and empty food packages littered the floor, almost as if the pudgy mare had waged war on her pantry. Sireen felt like she'd just entered a whole new battlefield, and this one couldn't be won with a sword or shield, nor with quick wits or agility. This kind of struggle was won with feelings.

As gently as possible, Sireen entered the room and sat at the foot of the bed facing Mrs. Fuzz. She waited till the mare sighed and turned to her. Her eyes were... conflicted, and her voice betrayed her nervousness and apprehension.

“A-as an elite pony, we are taught to hide our f-feelings and emotions... f-from the populace. We...we must show no cracks in our mask, and we must n-n-not fail in our endeavors and goals, for if we do we will be devoured by the masses. This is something I assume a guard like yourself c-can understand, yes?”

Her sniffles started to resurface and Sireen felt her maternal instincts from before rise up, albeit small in quantity and a lot less firmly. She nodded slowly. Mrs. Fuzz continued, her eyes drifted to the bed sheets and then to the window again.

“I... I am at a c-crossroad r-right now, Sireen... I... I don't like my options.” Her voice fell to a whisper as she reached the end of her sentence, and then she looked back at Sireen. “What do you do in situations like that?”

The question was not directed at Sireen, but she cocked her head slightly to the side, as if in thought, to show she was listening. It seemed to help, because Mrs. Fuzz sighed and let her head fall to her pillow with a dull FWUMP. The orange mare wiped at her nose with a sniffle, and then frowned at her own matted fur.

“I don't know if I should take the high road and weather the storm that lies above it, or take the low road as I have been, and deal with the treacherous footing beneath my hooves.”

The room fell silent as Sireen flipped her ears back in confusion. This was very uncommon for Mrs. Fuzzdrought, her emotions were haywire and it was putting Sireen in an awkward position. She decided to take the proverbial leap and test the waters of her actions. “Is this about Gustav by any chance?”

The reaction was... lackluster. Mrs. Fuzzdrought coughed harshly and sniffled weakly into her pillow. Sireen stood and tentatively walked around the bed so she ended up right next to the mare's side.

She looked at Sireen with a mirthless smile. “W-was it that obvious?”

Sireen shrugged, pushing a wad of tissue off the edge of the bed with a hoof.

Mrs. Fuzz nuzzled her pillow. “I... I want him, Sireen. I want Gustav to wrap me up in those powerful wings and take me away to Candyland with him.”

The only thing that made Sireen not lose her composure was the level of sadness in the mare's voice as she spoke. Ah, two choices then. Now Sireen understood. “You're unhappy with your marriage, aren't –” Sireen flinched backwards slightly when Mrs. Fuzzdrought's head snapped up and her eyes blazed with fire.

“I HATE IT!” she snarled. “It's a waste of my heart to try and love what is left of that pile of miserable pony!”

Sireen watched as Mrs. Fuzzdrought buried her muzzle into the pillow and sobbed anew. She watched as the mare beat her hooves into the bedding beside her and thrashed around in the blankets. She soon came to a stop, pitifully covered in half of the blankets she had been trying to hide under. A scrap or two of food particles in her mane, and tears going down her face, she frowned and let her lower lip pucker slightly.

“I-I j-just w-w-want what y-you have, Sireen!” she squeaked.

Sireen blinked owlishly, and nodded slowly. “You want love.”

“Y-yeah.... I-is that s-so much to ask for? A little love?” Mrs. Fuzzdrought sniffled loudly and coughed again, before laying her head into the pillow. “I... I want to feel like I am useful to somepony. Not just some slobbering sack of fat–” Sireen cringed. “Overweight, rude, snobby, bitchy, ill-tempered, barren-bellied–” Sireen's brow only furrowed more as the slew of words continued. “Pitiful, whiny, sorry excuse for a mare that Mister SHORT PEA-NIS thinks I am!”

Mrs. Fuzzdrought took several seconds to simply huff and breath, before she looked at Sireen and smiled weakly, splaying her ears back. “S-Sorry...I s-shouldn't have subjected y-you t-to that. You c-can leave I-if you–”

“You are wrong,” Sireen growled.

Mrs. Fuzzdrought blinked in surprise and then frowned. “O-oh? Please tell me then, that when I greeted you, I was kind, considerate, cordial, friendly, and above all else, elite.”

Sireen frowned too, and then put her hoof up. “O-okay, no. You're not wrong there. You were... sharp, which is true.”

Mrs. Fuzzdrought only buried her face deeper in resignation.

“But you are not right either.”

Mrs. Fuzzdrought's ears flicked up and angled in Sireen's direction, betraying the mare's attention. Sireen crawled up onto the bed and slowly pulled the blanket back over the mare's body. She felt Mrs. Fuzzdrought shift and let her watch the new addition to her bed as she tidied it up a bit, before laying down next to mare.

“You're not right either. Do you know what I see when I guard you and Mr. Long Pea?” Sireen asked. When Mrs. Fuzzdrought shrugged, Sireen draped her good wing over the mare's back and squeezed a little bit for comfort. It seemed to help, and she spoke up. “I see you fighting every cutthroat, scoundrel, and thief that a guard like myself can't deal with. My battles are purely physical ones, but if you put me in front of paperwork, I am like a pegasus with one wing. I am crippled. No pun intended, of course.”

Mrs. Fuzzdrought chuckled lightly and looked at her bandages. “That was in t-terrible taste, Sireen.”

Sireen nodded with a smile and a stamp of her hoof into the sheets.

“I couldn't agree more. Regardless, when you get put in front of those papers, it's like Princess Luna herself stepped in front of an army. You use your quill like her magic, and you sweep over the enemy that is bureaucracy and lay waste to its intricacies. Like Luna's hooves, your stamps of approval bring the judgment of thousands of wrongdoings in the financial corps.”

Mrs. Fuzzdrought's smile slowly increased the more Sireen spoke to her, and soon she wasn't sniffling or coughing. She was relaxing and listening.

Sireen finished her speech with a small hug. “In simple terms, I haven't worked with you or Mr. Long Pea for a long time, but I have felt your influence, and I don't see a weak and pitiful mare. I see one who will not back down on her goals and aspirations, even if they are on the wayside for the time being. I see somepony who will fight for every bit she is owed and won't give up on herself so easily... will you?”

When Mrs. Fuzzdrought hugged her back, Sireen purred lightly. She may not have liked Mrs. Fuzzdrought during her work hours, but there was far more depth to the peach-shaped mare than Sireen had previously presumed.

“T-thank you, Sireen. It... it means a lot to me that you feel that way for me.”

Sireen smiled and they sat there in amicable silence for a few moments, before Mrs. Fuzzdrought coughed into her hoof and blushed.

“Sireen, I should… um… probably get back to work now. I've moped long enough.” When the mare went to remove herself from under Sireen's wing, she gripped tighter. Mrs. Fuzzdrought blushed deeper and looked at the batpony with confusion.

Sireen grinned mischievously. “Oh ho ho, NO! You are not going to dodge this arrow so easily. I know for a fact that we have more to talk about, and work can wait a little longer. You spoke with Gustav, didn't you?”

Mrs. Fuzzdrought squeaked weakly and her cheeks stayed flushed. “I-I do not know what you are implying, Mrs. Wind, but you are in my bed and I feel uncomfortable with this train of–”

“Did he say anything nice?” Sireen countered, a cute and curious smile donning her lips.

Mrs. Fuzzdrought flattened her ears back and looked away, rubbing her foreleg. “W-well that is hardly important right–”

Sireen slapped a hoof over her mouth with an exaggerated gasp. “He did, didn't he?”

The orange mare could now be confused for an apple were it not for her horn atop her head. She bit her inner cheek and groaned, face-planting into the pillow. “I...oh fine! You win, cheeky mare.”

Sireen giggled and patted her shoulder comfortingly. “There, there! Not all victories are from behind a desk. Now spill the details. What did Gustav say to you?”
...
...
...

“He... he said he likes my plump, perky, pair of peaches...”

Sireen leaned forward. “Was he staring at your tree when he said this, or…?”

Mrs. Fuzzdrought whimpered into the pillow and shook her head.

“You-you mean he complimented your...?”

A nod.

“The two between your...?”

Another nod.

“Oh... oh my. Wait, why was he behind you?”

Mrs. Fuzz mumbled. “H-he... he said all artists are able t-to discern beauty from an angle, alright!”

Sireen was fanning herself and Mrs. Fuzzdrought with her good wing. “W-well then! Smooth-talking griffon. Got it. Moving on then. What happened? How did this...conversation come about?” Sireen inquired.

Mrs. Fuzzdrought lifted her head above the pillow and sighed wistfully. “I may have been... secretly sending him letters, every now and then, proclaiming my love for him and his... eclairs.”

Mrs. Fuzzdrought spoke the last word with heavy lust in her voice. So much in fact, that she shivered.

Sireen blinked and flicked an ear back with warmth in her cheeks. “His desserts...or…?”

Mrs. Fuzzdrought leveled her with a flat look. “The desserts, Sireen.”

“Just checking! Okay, so these letters – did he ever reply to them?” she asked, scooting closer.

Mrs. Fuzzdrought tapped her hooves into the bedsheets rapidly while squealing and nodded. “YES! YES! YES! I never put my name in them or any information about myself, other than that my job was lackluster, my husband even more so, and that upon first sight of him, I fell horn over tail for him and his robust chest, those powerful primaries, and that buffed beak! OOOH! That beak....” Here, Mrs. Fuzzdrought's mouth hung open slightly and her eyes glazed over.

Sireen sighed wryly, clacked her teeth together sharply and brought the mare out of her day dreaming. “Focus, Casanova.”

“O-oh right. Well, I sent him four or five each month, and he'd reply whenever he could. Being the master chef of his shop, he is very busy you see. I told him of my predicament with my spouse and he is adamant that should things turn seriously sour, he is there for me. I told him I was... reserved on my options, but that I would take the offer in a heartbeat, should it come to that.”

Sireen nodded approvingly. It was good to see that Gustav respected that a relationship was in the way of their joining, and that he was not trying to forcefully tear it open. It spoke volumes of his character, and if he didn't have enough, Sireen was sure Mrs. Fuzzdrought would make up for any lack of volume.

“What? What is so funny, Sireen?” Mrs. Fuzzdrought poked her with a hoof until Sireen stopped giggling and waved her away with a hoof.

“N-nothing, er… just thinking about something else shortly. Anyway, so what will you do? Will you divorce? Wait! Before you answer that, does Gustav know it's you sending the letters?”

There was an impregnable pause there, and Sireen almost feared the worst for a moment, before Mrs. Fuzzdrought sighed and put a hoof to her lips, gently.

“He does. He...he kissed me, Sireen.”

Sireen gasped. “He did?!”

“He did!”

Sireen grinned wide. “HE DID!?”

“HE DID! AHAHAHA!” Mrs. Fuzzdrought nickered in joy and rolled over, kicking her legs into the air. “Ah, it was beautiful Sireen! There I was lounging at the garden party, right? I see him behind me, he sees me, and I bat my eye lashes his way.”

Sireen cooed. She was actually enjoying her time with the mare now. “Ooh, what did the bird do?”

Mrs. Fuzzdrought giggled more and scooted closer to the batpony, conspiratorially whispering.
“Well, He grins and saunters over proudly, that long whip-like tail lashing behind him, and he looks down at me and says to me in the most sultry voice ever, and I quote: ‘Ma'dam, Zet me jus' say, you 'ave ze most plump and perky pair of peaches I 'ave ever laid my eagle eyes upon.’ ”

More wing fanning was involved. “Ooh... that is risky. He said that at your garden party? In front of everypony?”

Mrs. Fuzzdrought blushed. “A-ah yes, but he said it very quietly, I doubt anypony heard him over the music.”

Sireen nodded. “Alright, so he compliments your...peaches, and then what?”

“Well he asks me if I could show him my office, as apparently he is in a bit of a bind legally with some pony or another over a food competition scandal. Something about ninjas and moose, but that is irrelevant. I realize what he is implying and I totally accepted the offer. The moment we are alone, he walks over to my desk and picks up the nearest parchment and starts reading it.”

Sireen blinked in confusion. “Why?”

“He was checking my handwriting, Sireen. Griffons can see the minute details that ponies add to their fonts when they write, and within a few seconds he set the paper down and turned to me. Gosh, I was so scared,” Mrs. Fuzzdrought whispered. She shook herself. “I had never seen a griffon get...that look on his face before.”

Sireen leaned forward. “What look?”

Again Mrs. Fuzzdrought whispered, “Passion. Pure unbridled passion. He...he walked up to me, he took my cheeks in his talons and he crooned softly to me. Sireen, I have never fallen so hard in love at a simple sound, but he stole my heart right then and there... and... and then he kissed me.”

Mrs. Fuzzdrought gently touched her lips with her fetlocks and sighed again, a smile gracing her lips for a moment before she frowned. “Which...which is why I am stuck. I know that Mr. Long Pea does have some feelings for me, I am his wife after all.... But....”

Sireen frowned too and she looked to the open bedroom door. “But?”

New tears broke across Mrs. Fuzzdrought's face and she buried her face into Sireen's chest. “I-I can't hurt him! I can't hurt the pony I've lived with for so long. It would make me feel so terrible! S-sure I-I know h-he doesn't want me the way G-Gustav does, but… I've lived with M-Mr. Long Pea for... for so long.”

“But have you loved him for that long, Mrs. Fuzz?” Again, Sireen's eyes locked on the open doorway and her frown only deepened by who she could see standing beyond the threshold.

Mrs. Fuzzdrought paused for a moment, and truly thought on that. Sireen watched the mare's expression rapidly flip from confusion to anger and then to sadness. “No, I haven't. I... I thought I did, and I thought that he did....b-but we just were tolerating each other. All this time we never really loved each other.” Mrs. Fuzzdrought looked up to Sireen for confirmation and instead followed her gaze to the door way. She lost her breath.

Sireen sighed and watched the stallion slowly walk out of the shadow of the hallway, a sad frown on his face, and his eyes just as red and puffy as his wife's.

“Hello Mr. Long Pea.”

Author's Note

Art to come soon ^^

UPDATED!

GOLDFUR was kind enough to edit my story for me, the saint. I hope you enjoy!