A Swan Amongst The Ducklings

Luna became a near regular sight at the gatherings that Fancy held, and would often appear at parties held by other members of the nobility so long as he and Fleur were in attendance. The atmosphere of those meetings was always amiable, but there was an undercurrent of tension.

It was not unbearable to Fleur, quite the opposite, in fact. She was content to be flirtatious with Luna, but beyond some affectionate hugs and the sort of kiss on the cheek one might give a fond friend or especially important business associate, she did not press matters physically.

The tension was always there, like a final note left unsung while the orchestra played on and on. One day, Fleur knew the note would come, but only when Luna was ready to sing it. Until then, her company was enough, though there were always the dreams.

In her sleep, Luna would come. At times for her alone, at others to join Fleur and Fancy, materializing from the darkness beyond the candlelight of their room and swooping in to seize a kiss from Fleur while Fancy took her. In one memorable dream, she had walked into her own bedroom to find Luna riding Fancy with a look of wild abandon, her wings spread wide and mouth wide-open in a silent scream that Fleur felt rather than heard.

She’d woken that morning in such a state that she’d had to find Fancy in his office, throw him down on his desk, and mount him without a word beyond his attempted ‘Good morning’ which she’d silenced with a savage and desperate kiss.

She was a grown mare, having gone through several seasons, but even the worst of her heats seemed no comparison for how her little Princess made her feel after gracing them with her presence only to leave once more without staying the night.

But she’d endured, willingly, because she wished for Luna to feel completely at ease when she did decide to come to her. Or rather, to be completely hot and sweaty and not worried in the slightest about anything other than satiating their mutual desires.

And then Fleur would lick the sweat away, savoring the salty sweetness—

“Fleur, did you need another drink?”

Fleur blinked, nodding as the proffered beverage floated to her, drinking it in a long gulp and wishing she could use it to douse her head instead.

She’d promised herself once that if Luna would merely accept it, she would happily content herself with only her friendship, despite her feelings for the Princess. And she had meant it, with all her heart. But Luna had come to them, had chased her in a game that left Fleur’s heart racing with fear and joy that threatened to have it burst from her chest. She’d been truly afraid for the first time in her living memory, afraid to face that raging tide with her frail mortal form.

And while Luna’s desire had been quenched by her dear Fancy Pants, it had awakened an answering desire in Fleur De Lis. She could have perhaps quelled it, given time. She was, after all, not a mare who lacked the means to satisfy herself. Fancy alone was enough in most instances, and they still brought guests home from time to time for a bit of variety.

And so the embers would burn low, almost seeming to be extinguished, until Luna ignited them into a roaring flame once more with her next visit.

“Thank you, Mon Coeur,” she said after setting her glass down. “I needed that.”

“I expected so,” Fancy said with a chuckle. “Another twenty minutes or so and we’ll take our leave, I think. The party seems to be winding down.”

Fleur nodded, not really caring. She wasn’t even entirely sure which minor house was hosting this particular party, but clearly they were destined to remain minor. The dreariness of the affair had been what had led her into thoughts about Luna to begin with. Her mind often travelled down that selfsame path of late. At least leaving would let her focus on something else.

Luna had not come this evening. That was in large part why it had proven so dull for Fleur. True, there were the usual goings-on that proved to be a momentary diversion here and there. The Worthinghams had patched their affairs, it seemed, and were often seen in quiet little corners kissing like young foals in their first season. It would be adorable were it not for the looks of resentment the Lady’s butler cast at them when he supposed they weren’t looking, seemingly having little care for who else might see him doing so.

Her heart went out to him, but it was a danger you assumed when one entered the bed of a married mare. She’d know, having entered more than a few before Fancy. Afterwards, they mostly entered hers.

All in all, the butler was rather lucky he hadn’t been cast out of her bed and her home. Fleur suspected it was only that the Lord did not know of the Lady’s affairs that prevented it. Hypocrite that he was, the Lord might have taken enough offence at the betrayal to insist the butler be removed, despite being the one who had driven the poor mare into her servant’s arms with his own unfaithfulness.

She clucked her tongue sadly. She knew what she had with Fancy was unusual for ponies, but at times she wished it were not so. Many a love life might prove easier.

It only made her all the more pleased for herself to have him. She quickly nuzzled him on impulse, then returned to her former relaxed pose at his side. Unlike the Worthinghams, she and Fancy were not here to casually flaunt their relationship to whoever might be watching. Being who he was, Fancy had many watching him at all times, after all.

He turned and kissed her fondly on the cheek with a smile. It was a brief but genuine show of affection, and served to make her wish she could afford to be brazen as she wished. But this was not their home, and it was not easy for them to disappear to some dark corner or guest bedroom, here. She resolved to ask their carriage driver to take the scenic route on the way home.

“I’ll tell him to take his time,” Fancy said without even looking at her.

Her heart beat faster in her chest, and she blushed, feeling as giddy as she had when she’d first discovered how to pleasure herself. Of course, he knew what she’d been thinking, he’d inspired the heat within her, after all.

They left as soon as was acceptable, thanking their host and saying their goodbyes to a few select guests. Fleur watched the Worthinghams leave with a wry smile on her lips. She was uncertain how long their happiness might last, but she was glad for them at the moment, and wished that moment to continue for them as long as it might.

Fancy gave instructions to Trotter, their carriage pony for the evening, who nodded with a slight smile. He was one of Fleur’s favorites, in that he had that wonderful earth pony stamina and knew the importance of discretion. Useful traits in their household.

The carriage was a roomy two-seat affair, and had (for reasons that Fancy described as being for business transactions to their carpenter) been largely soundproofed, save for the windows which could be rolled down as needed. The seats folded out and together with the push of a button (a modification done by an entirely different carpenter who had been very amused by the request), which unveiled a rather plush mattresses on the underside. This helped ensure there was no worry about messy cleanup on the seats themselves, though Fleur had on occasion necessitated those be steam cleaned as well.

When the mood struck, she wasn’t always willing to wait.

To her credit, Fleur managed to wait for a little while as Fancy waved some final goodbyes before she lifted him bodily in her magic the moment nopony was around to see her do it. She threw him down onto the plush carpeted floor where he landed more heavily than she might have liked, causing him to grunt. For a moment she worried she had been too rough before he let out a little chuckle. Trotting up the stairs to their carriage she murmured a curt: “Loop the outskirts of the city, twice,” to Trotter before firmly closing the door behind her.

Fancy watched her approach with quiet but fond bemusement, sprawled out on the carpeted floor, his back literally to the wall of the carriage. He said nothing as she laid down in front of him, nibbling at his sheath while gently massaging his testicles in her magic.

“I rather liked this carpet,” he complained in exasperation, before letting out a gasp as she took the head and about half of his rapidly expanding shaft into her mouth.

Fleur backed off of him for a moment, letting the head pop out of her mouth. “You will like the next as well,” she said with a smirk, then she engulfed his member again, forcing herself down until she could feel his as yet unflared head tickle her tonsils. She could and had taken him further, but she wasn’t trying to finish him in this particular instance. Besides which, she had no desire to go another week without speaking.

Her doctor had been furious with her. But the look on Fancy’s face as her lips had met his medial ring had been worth it.

They arrived home several hours later, Trotter quickly excusing himself after helping them out of the carriage. The soundproofing on the carriage worked fine for those a few feet away from it, but the window facing him could not entirely stop the sound of Fleur’s moans and eventual screams. Not that she’d been trying to hold back in the slightest, of course.

Second only to bringing a new duckling into their bedroom was her fondness for knowing she was being observed in some fashion, and seeing the way Trotter tried to hide his obvious arousal made her shiver.

He’ll likely offer to take sweet Babette for a ride later.

Fleur smiled at the thought, debating on whether to eavesdrop on them, eventually deciding not to. It was unlikely either would have minded, but it wasn’t fair if they didn’t know she was doing it. Babette liked to show off when she knew she had an audience, and Fleur didn’t want to take that enjoyment from her.

Fancy made an effort to straighten his overcoat, striding with dignity into their home. As much as she’d tried to tongue-bathe him afterwards, the scent of their joining still hung about him. The servants doing their evening cleaning made a show of not paying attention to him, though Babette let out a barely-audible giggle, stifling it as Fancy’s normally staid expression quirked down into the tiniest frown.

If they had been hosting that evening, Fleur might have reprimanded Babette, but there was nopony else to see Fancy’s embarrassment. Besides which, Babette had seen far, far more than that from both Fancy and Fleur.

Fleur trotted up behind him as he poured out a snifter of his favorite brandy and kissed him on the neck. “Thank you, Mon Coeur,” she whispered breathily.

“You’re quite welcome, but I’m going to need a proper massage,” he replied. “There’s a reason I didn’t have the floor padded.”

“Maybe we should pick softer carpet next time, oui?” She said, nipping at one of his ears playfully. “Come, we’ll go upstairs, take a nice hot shower, and I will fix what I broke.”

He flashed her a look of gratitude before downing the rest of his drink. “I’ll take you up on that.”

Fleur ushered him upstairs, noting with amusement that Trotter had come inside from the carriage house and was indeed chatting up Babette. On another night Fleur might have taken Trotter upstairs herself, but she was glad for the two of them this evening. She wished to pamper Fancy in any case, and while she still felt the embers glowing, they were low enough for her to simply wish closeness and affection. Perhaps after a shower and massage for Fancy, but even then, she did not need those two for that.

Well, two can be nice for some things… she thought wistfully, then shook her head. It seemed the coals still burned hot even with the flame so low. She was getting a bit annoyed with herself. While it was extremely rare, she’d been denied before (even a pony of her charms could not sway everypony), it was troublesome when it happened, but it had never left her with a sense of an itch that she could not scratch no matter what she attempted.

And yet, Luna had not denied her. She was simply not ready. But one day, she would be. Fleur quickly dispelled the thought that for Luna, ‘one day’ meant less than it ever would for any mortal pony, herself included. Luna had been interested in her so that day would come soon. In her lifetime at least.

She dismissed the little Princess from her mind as best as she could. It did little good to dwell on, and only served to stoke the embers.

She somehow managed to get through a shower with Fancy without worsening his back by throwing him down on the tiled floor, difficult though it was. Giving him a massage on the bed was easier. The shower was often used for play, but the bed was as often utilized for closeness as lovemaking. And Fancy needed comfort, not more play.

She massaged his shoulders and breathed deeply of the scent of his damp mane, all the while whispering endearments to him. It was nearly as relaxing to her as it was to him. Which was probably why after hearing the gentle sound of his breathing and watching his form relax into a posture of sleep, she simply relaxed her own form to lay atop his back and joined him in slumber.

She found herself alone, in the dead of night, atop a high mountain. All around her, the night sky shone brightly, the stars seemingly close enough to touch. And in the center of the sky was the moon, full and brilliant amongst the jewels that twinkled around it.

And in the center of the moon was the Mare, a dark and mysterious shadow that had disappeared from the moon’s face some months prior. Fleur looked up at it in awe, smiling as she did so. It was strange, thinking that the moon shouldn’t look this way when it had for her entire life.

“I admit, I’ve never known that experience, though I’ve seen the Mare many times in the dreams of ponies. It’s odd to think I made such an impression throughout the centuries, given the circumstances.”

Fleur looked around, startled to hear the voice but not finding a source for it.

“Pardon me for intruding,” the Mare said, sounding less apologetic and more amused. “I hope I’m not alarming you too badly.”

“Where are you?” Fleur demanded.

“Up here, Dame.” the voice said.

Fleur looked up, finding only the moon she’d known for all of her life. The Mare looked down at her, almost seeming to be smiling.

Then it winked at her.

Letting out a distressed whinny of surprise, Fleur reared back from the moon. Of course, when the thing you fear is above you, the only direction away is back and down. And so she fell backwards, first landing heavily on her rump, then she toppled off the mountaintop.

“Dame!” the voice called out in shock.

Fleur looked up in a daze as she felt herself fall, then down in renewed worry as she realized she was somehow reversing her fall and rising up into the sky instead. She was surrounded and suspended in moonlight, and floating upwards towards the Mare. As she got closer, the moon cracked down the center, and appeared to open inwards to reveal a worried face peering outwards.

“Dame, We beg thy forgiveness. We had no intention to cause such concern!”

The face that Fleur now recognized as Princess Luna grew ever closer, and soon Fleur found herself inside of a room the likes of which she’d only ever seen in a dream. She was allowed to come to her own hooves, after which Luna pulled her back off them into a fond embrace.

“Ma petite... I... you... the moon—” Fleur managed between gasps for air.

“Oh!” Luna said, releasing Fleur and letting her back down. “Forgive me again. I... saw your dream bubble appear during my nightly duties and thought it looked so wonderful...”

“My... dream?” Fleur replied, confused.

“Yes,” Luna said. “We are in a shared dreamspace, now. Welcome, Dame.”

Fleur took a moment to look around, feeling awed by her surroundings as much as her host. The room to which she’d been summoned was similar in theme to the giant throne room Luna had brought her into in its scale, but where that had been themed for both night and day, this was solidly a nighttime decor. The high ceilings sparkled with gems in the positions of ancient constellations, each no doubt planned for perfect accuracy. All around her were the colors of blue and purple. Fixtures of ebony and silver jutted from the walls to allow mage lights to shine forth, their lights seeming pale compared to the common varieties that imitated fire or sunlight.

“Moonlights,” Luna offered, as if sensing the question Fleur was about to ask. “I find most magelights very harsh, so I made my own. It’s become popular for my Night Guard, as they too found normal torches troublesome. I’m also told they’ve become something of a staple for foals who have trouble sleeping.”

In the center of it all was a bed shaped like a crescent moon, with curtains that seemed ready to be pulled closed. It looked very small, which was surprising to Fleur. She expected a bed built for royalty to be more expansive. The more she looked at it, however, the more it seemed to fit her little princess. It was both ostentatious in design, but humble in size. Still, it made Fleur frown just a little. It looked too small to fit three.

“I am sorry I was unable to sneak away of late, Dame. My duties have been slightly more demanding than usual. I promise I will make time soon.”

Fleur frowned, and turned back to her little princess. “Usually we’d be in my bed by now. I would love to be in yours instead. Are you reluctant even in my dreams now, ma petite?”

Luna stared at Fleur for some time, then burst out laughing. “Ah, you were joking! Forgive me, Dame. It’s been a trying week.” Luna glanced about the room, but after finding a distinct lack of chairs she dragged two pillows from her bed and laid them on the floor. “Come, sit. We shall hold Palaver together, you and I.”

Fleur looked at the pillow, then back to Luna, who was settling on her own. She gave a slight shrug of her shoulders and lay down on the proffered padding, reasoning that not all dreams involving Luna needed to be as hedonistic as they had been for her of late. She had, after all, just ridden Fancy twice around the city. Additionally, as Luna had mentioned, it had been weeks since she’d even seen her little princess to bask in her company.

“How fare you, Dame?” Luna asked politely.

“Well, despite it all,” Fleur replied. “Little scandals abound that keep me occupied. Beyond that, things are quite dull of late,” she frowned, then a thought made her smile again. “Oh, there was that night with the Saddle Arabian diplomat and his wife. They were fun.”

The wife had been that horribly repressed type that you only tend to find in families with a strict upbringing, insistent that she couldn’t possibly be the sort to have an attraction to another mare. This was said in between entwining tongues with Fleur while Fancy furiously rutted her, even while the diplomat himself mounted Fleur from the other end of the bed.

The pair of them had put on quite a show for their husbands afterwards, their tails wrapped around each other’s necks and muzzles deeply entrenched betwixt the other’s thighs. Fleur had loved making the mare scream as the boys rested and chatted amicably about imports over cognac.

Bed partners made for some of the best business partners.

Luna blinked, then said: “That would explain why they agreed to Celestia’s terms so quickly, I suppose...”

Fleur just smiled smugly.

Luna then did something surprising, circling around Fleur and settling next to her, throwing a wing around her and drawing her close. “I haven’t forgotten your offer, Dame. I promise you, some night soon. You’ve been very patient, and I merely ask that you continue to be so.”

Fleur looked up at Luna in something akin to awe. She had been very careful about casual physical contact with her little princess. It was so very easy to become relaxed and let fond caresses become kisses. But surely if Luna initiated the contact it was all right... she allowed herself to bask in the warmth offered. “Ma petite, you are welcome, always.”

Fleur woke alone, Fancy having long since left after another of his fits of wakefulness. Unlike many of her dreams of late, this one had left feeling... not wanting, but sated in some way. She got up, stretching languidly before making her way to Fancy’s study. She found him sitting in his big leather office chair, poring over documents from his latest business ventures with an intensity that belied his obvious fatigue.

She smiled at him as he met her gaze, and for a moment he seemed to brace himself, then relax. She realized with no small amount of amusement that he likely had expected her to wake up in need once again. “No, Mon Coeur,” she said, letting out a little laugh. “Notthis morning. Perhaps later tonight.”

“Whenever you’re ready, beloved. I’m sorry if I’ve been struggling to keep up of late,” he said, looking sheepish for having jumped.

She circled around him, draping her forelegs around his shoulders and kissing him lightly on the neck. “You’ve done splendidly, mon grand fort étalon,” she whispered into his ear.

“Yes, well, I’m starting to feel my seasons a bit. I imagine you’ll trade me in for a younger stud at some point—”

Fleur cut him off by capturing his mouth with her own, delivering a passionate kiss with a fierce look in her eyes and twisting herself around to land heavily in his lap. After the kiss eventually broke, the pair still stared into each other’s eyes, gasping for breath, neither willing to look away.

Without even glancing in that direction, Fleur closed the door, shifting herself once more so she was straddling him as he sat back in his big office chair. “Some younger stud?” she asked.

Fancy nodded, his gaze never flinching from hers. “Some impressionable head of a noble house, or some up and coming would-be business mogul.”

Fleur felt his length grow between them, and caressed its length with the tip of her hoof. She began licking up and down his shaft between words. “Perhaps I’ll delve... into Canterlot’s underbelly... this time, find a ruthless... young... crime lord... murdering... his way... to the top...” she paused, and suckled at his flare lovingly, “and tame him... for my own purposes.”

“For that, I would say go to Manehatten. Canterlot’s criminal families are as old as the noble houses. But in Manehatten the money is all fairly fresh and new, as are the ponies who control it, for better or, ah...ill.”

He grunted as she rose up momentarily, rising up on her hind legs by lifting herself and grasping at the seatback with her forehooves. His length glistened in her magic as she positioned it at her entrance, then quickly eased herself back down, feeling it pierce her very depths until it bumped against the entrance of her womb.

“Do you truly think... better than you exists?” Fleur demanded as she lifted herself again only to drive him back inside her.

“I have to... assume so...” he said, grasping at her midsection and kissing along her long neck. The heat inside her built deliciously, but she was ever mindful of his reactions, having no wish for him to be uncomfortable. She had taken her pleasure from him enough, this was about giving love to him, and making love together.

“I think... no,” Fleur replied. She thrust herself down upon him, stoking the fires within them both. “I think... that there are... none that compare... Mon Coeur!” The fire blazed high into a pyre within her, and for a long moment, all that she was went up in the flames. Then Fancy’s length pulsed inside her, adding fuel to the fire.

The coals burned low as she regained her senses. Low, but still hot. She lay against Fancy’s chest, feeling his flair still gushing inside her. She reached up and stroked his sweat-soaked forelock from his face. “Do you need another massage, Fancy?”

He chuckled good-naturedly. “No, beloved. I bought this chair with exactly this in mind. Honestly, I’m surprised we hadn’t christened it until now.”

“It is more comfortable than the desk,” Fleur allowed. She smiled at him, still awash in the heat of the coals, feeling occasional sparks flickering in the ashes that threatened to blaze forth anew.

“Definitely more so than the carpeting of the carriage,” Fancy replied wryly. “I’ll see about getting something plusher, or at the least some emergency pillows.”