So Not A Shy Girl After All

Sonata glanced sidelong at a silent Adagio, discomfort nibbling at her abdomen. This wasn't right, this formation. Adagio always stood at the point, the center of their power. Now she had stepped back, instead of leading the trio, and it rattled Sonata's shell, seeing her there.

Breathing in, she focused on her still-healing heart. She wasn't okay, which was okay. Facing their new humanity took time, and however Adagio dealt with the pain, that was her way. Aria had the lead now and Sonata could follow as much or as little as she wanted. Adagio had said so.

Embrace the hours. Be in the moment you're meant for.

Sonata exhaled, settling her shoulders. Treehugger's advice had steadied her through the last few nights. Between that, Aria's eerily calm acceptance, and Adagio's weird need to step back, the three of them had arrived here, at this moment, on Treehugger's front porch.

Aria rang the doorbell.

Normally, this was where Sonata would say something, Aria would snarl back, and Adagio would snap at them both to shut up before they ruined the whole plan.

Sonata glanced at Adagio again. Should she say anything? Did she even want to?

Aria looked over her shoulder and smirked at Sonata, obviously on the same wavelength. “Don't bother. There's no plan to ruin here. And this was your idea to begin with.”

“Oh, yeah.” Sonata grinned back fondly as the door opened.

Treehugger leaned on the door frame, squinting at the three of them. The position of the sun said mid-afternoon, but her gaze said 'early morning'. “Like, hey. Glad you made it.” Her red dreadlocks fell over one bare, green shoulder, her workout clothes doing their best to contain the rest of her. She nodded at Sonata. “Looking blue, girl.”

“Thanks,” Sonata said, unsure if that was good or bad. Remembering her hippie manners, she held up two fingers in a V. “Peace, babe.”

Treehugger grinned and mimicked her gesture. “Love, totally. C'mon in. Everyone else is here.” She turned and sauntered away, hips swaying. The weight of her voice remained, rooting the Sirens in place.

Aria whistled softly, eyes wide. “What was that?” she asked, glancing at Sonata. “Her voice isn't made of Equestrian magic, is it?”

Sonata shrugged, pushing through the vibrations and into the house. “Nah, she's just in tune.” Yeah, she'd felt it, too, from the first thrum of that drawling voice over the phone, when Treehugger had pulled her out of a miserable pile of self pity. Even though Fluttershy had been the one to do the deed and heal the hurt in Sonata's chest, Treehugger's direction had made it possible.

With everything inside them whole again, the Sirens now had to break the bonds they'd made. Adagio had brought them the solution of the Rainbooms, Sonata had found them a safe place to be vulnerable, and now Aria would fulfill her purpose and finish the job.

Treehugger's home was like every other house on the suburban block, at least on the outside. Once inside the front door, though, her own styles came through. Rather than an ordinary living room's couch or dining room's table, the front rooms held wicker-framed beanbag chairs and standing lamps with incredibly gaudy shades. Scrolls hung on the wall, detailed flower patterns embroidered on them. Sonata looked down, noting the hand-woven rugs covering the hardwood floors. She would bet Treehugger had a loom tucked away somewhere.

The Sirens followed through the kitchen, with its skylight and herbs hanging in the windows, and out to her sunroom. Sure enough, Fluttershy, Rarity, and Sunset Shimmer were already there, and someone, probably Rarity, had outfitted them all in flashy, individually-themed yoga wear.

Aria glanced down at her own outfit, which was less midriff-baring, more 'loose t-shirt and leggings', and she raised an eyebrow. “I'd say we're overdressed, but we've already moved past that in our own unique ways, haven't we?”

As Sunset blushed and mumbled something, Adagio wasted no time in moving over to Rarity, and Sonata slipped past them all to join Fluttershy, waggling her fingers in greeting.

“Hi,” Sonata whispered, tipping up onto her toes, hands clasped behind her back. Fluttershy had pushed herself pretty far out of her comfort zone the other night. Sonata would treasure the memory of that courage (and those breasts) for the rest of her short, mortal life, but she still wanted to make sure the other girl had no regrets. Regrets weren't tasty. Not that she could feed on them any more. “You okay?”

“Mmhmm,” Fluttershy murmured.

“Treehugger give you that look yet? You know, the one you said she's gonna give you?”

Fluttershy giggled. “No. I think she's waiting until it's just me and her. Then the look will come out.”

“And you're going to ignore it, just like I ignore Adagio's grumpy faces,” Sonata said, smirking. She watched Adagio and Rarity make eyes at each other. “Course, she hasn't had a grumpy face since she got good and laid.”

Adagio curled her fingers into mock-claws over Rarity's shoulders. “Quiet, Sonata, before I toss you into the harbor to speak whale,” she threatened, glowering ferociously at her before smiling at Rarity again.

“That's the face,” Sonata informed Fluttershy. “I'm gonna ignore it.”

Aria knocked on one of the wood slats holding up the screens that surrounded the small deck. “Both of you, cut it out, or you'll infect everyone with 'harsh vibes'.” She rolled her head, eyes narrowed, to glower at Treehugger. “Really, that's what we're going with?”

“Don't mess with the vibes,” Treehugger agreed. She sipped placidly at a reusable water bottle made from bamboo. “Like, okay, your vibes are pretty good,” she added, “but that's because you're open to the energy inside you.”

Aria tugged on one of her ponytails. “I'm open to the possibilities in the energy because someone has to be responsible with that stuff.” She shot a look of blame at the others. “Adagio started this. I just try to contain the damage.”

Treehugger inclined her head. “Okay, now see, that's harsh. Go grab some water and chill with Sunset Shimmer.” She patted Aria on the shoulder. “Go on. I need a skosh to sort you all out.”

Nestling against Fluttershy, Sonata watched Aria slouch over to the big glass cooler on a table and get a drink. She wished she knew what a 'skosh' was. It sounded so useful. “You wanna start with me?” she asked, waggling her fingers to get Treehugger's attention.

“Righteous,” Treehugger agreed. “Come stand here, yeah?” She waved a hand vaguely at the space in front of her.

Sonata straightened up and skipped across the room, planting herself at a sort of attention where Treehugger pointed.

“Good.” Treehugger grasped Sonata's hips, angling them into a better position, and nudged her feet wider apart. “Posture, babe. Stand straight and breathe properly. It helps.” She cupped Sonata's jaw, cool fingers slipping up beneath her ears, down the sides of her neck, and back across her collarbone. “So, still not okay?”

“Still not okay,” Sonata agreed. Her heart still worried, yeah, but right here and now, she felt she could endure a few more days.

“Truth, that's good.” Treehugger hummed. “Throat chakra's not as bad as when I saw you, so, bonus. Drink more water, too. It helps.” She pressed one hand on the sealed hole in Sonata's breastbone, the other reaching around into the middle of her back to find the rainbow's exit. “It's a strange mix in here now, yeah? Still, the seal's holding. No pain?”

Sonata shook her head, breathing in deeply as Treehugger's mere touch loosened her tension. Her shoulders settled, and her chin came up.

“Good. Heart chakra's not as open as it could be, but you'll get there. It got a hard shock, so no need to rush. Aura's settled down, too, not so spiky.” Hovering her palms over Sonata's arms, Treehugger traced her outline. “Yeah, you're coming together okay.” She patted Sonata on the hip. “Go chill, Allegra, you're cool.” She gestured languidly at Adagio. “Yo, poofy-hair. C'mon up.”

Rarity's giggle disrupted Adagio's scowl, and Sonata scurried out of the way, also grinning. She scooped a glass of water for herself and joined Fluttershy, Aria, and Sunset. Without energy to satisfy the Sirens, food and water had become more of a need than a want, and so Sonata had picked up Aria's drinking habit. At least it was just water, rather than those gin-soaked days of Prohibition.

Aria clinked the rim of her glass against Sonata's as Treehugger started in on Adagio. “I've never said this in the hundreds of years we've been stuck with each other, but good job, Sonata. You found the one person able to help us, then forget us once we're gone.”

“You think she'll forget?” Her still-racing heart dipped at the thought of Treehugger forgetting her. That couldn't ever happen, could it?

Gesturing, Aria grunted. “Certainly looks like she would. Living in the mists, that one.” She shrugged. “Still, I think she knows enough to untangle this mess we're all in.”

-~-~-~-~-~

Aria sipped her water, watching Adagio's expression as her former leader allowed Treehugger to get up close and quite personal. The old Adagio would have never endured this kind of examining. This newer Adagio, the one who'd stepped away from leading and scheming, looked far more attentive as Treehugger touched and talked to her

They were all three days out from a blinding rainbow laser of friendship that had drowned their senses and shattered their immortality. Two days out from a renewal so steamy and intimate, they were still affected. Sonata was acting competently, Adagio had lowered herself, and here stood Aria Blaze, the newly responsible one.

She'd always thought if she became the Sirens' leader, the first thing she would do was chuck Sonata down an elevator shaft, followed by that blasted plush shark. That final shriek and squeak would be music to her ears, or so she'd imagined. Instead, she'd listened when that blue ditz told her of some nature lover who knew energy, and now here they all were, back with their Equestrian magic bearers. Including Sunset Shimmer.

Sure, Sunset had stomped the Sirens' hearts into glittering shards, but she'd also come after them in a whirl of worry, desperate to reverse the damage. And tides help them all, Aria had accidentally tangled her energy with Shimmer's, resulting in a bond neither of them asked for, but which they both sorely needed.

“What does 'living in the mists' mean?” Sunset asked, rolling her shoulders back to stretch and display her freakishly fit pony body in human form.

Aria leaned in her direction, purposefully bumping shoulders. The thrum of energy rolled between them, and oh, that was much better. She couldn't help it, even when Sunset grunted and bumped her back, putting some Earth Pony sway into those unicorn hips. “Always wandering,” Aria explained, sneaking another soft nudge, “you know, floating freely out there with no direction other than her own.” She sipped again, then thought some more. “Not always a bad thing, but running into a creature like her out in the wild seas? You never know what'll happen next.”

She didn't put stock in auras, chakras, or essential oils. Still, Treehugger obviously understood pain and how to ease it. She knew energy lines, too, much like the spa twins, both of them seeing mere scraps of true power. That made Treehugger someone with whom Aria could work.

Treehugger stepped back from assessing Adagio and glanced in Aria's direction. “Like, you know more than the others,” she said, wiggling her fingers and shaking her hands to rid herself of Adagio's energy, “so I might not have much for you.” Her gaze traveled down Aria's body. “Mmm-hmmm.”

“Want to take Shimmer instead? Lots of wild energy there.” Aria tried to grin and shove Sunset forward, but the other girl held onto the table and glowered at her. “What? You got slammed as much as I did with the overload.”

“And I'm fine,” Sunset hissed.

“Yeah, after a couple days of sleep and food, sure, you're fine.” Aria had conked out following their shared experience at the spa, helped by the takeout they'd all devoured afterward. She'd slept through half the next day, her body fighting to balance itself with the new energy. Ditto for Adagio and Sonata. She was sure Shimmer had similarly collapsed and missed a morning of school or whatever.

Treehugger eased between them, a hand on each of their shoulders. “Like, chill, you two. Energy flares are no joke.” She pushed them further apart, and turned to hold Aria's temples in her hands. “For you, your throat chakra's a little too active, along with your third eye. Sonata's blue, so she can be herself and get better, but you're not indigo by any means.”

“Meaning?” Aria mumbled. She wasn't used to anyone smushing her cheeks and getting this close.

“Stop arguing with your friends,” Treehugger told her, “because the more out of whack you get, the less you'll accomplish today.” She lightly poked Aria in the side. “And drink up.” She narrowed her eyes at Sunset Shimmer. “You, too. Overactive sacral chakra means you start getting conflicted. Chill, have a drink, and trust people. It'll all bring you back into balance.”

Well, she could do that. Aria knew how to drink. She'd spent a lot of nights in the gin-mills back in the day doing just that. Drink, pour another. Drink that, have another. Down that, order another bottle while she waited for the Siren spell to weave through the rest of the drunks and start the first fight. Bending an elbow was second nature. Then, once they'd legalized booze again, she'd dropped the habit without a backwards glance. No thrill in something legal, was there?

Treehugger squeezed her upper arm. “Get settled, then it's your show.” She wandered off to talk to Fluttershy.

Aria watched her go, then turned her attention to her fellow Sirens. According to Adagio, leading meant knowing where the other two were at every moment, ensuring they weren't causing trouble, and yanking them back into line if they strayed. Aria didn't have a style yet. She'd led for barely a day, and so far, her old leader had kept opinions to herself. No snarky suggestions, no casual remarks, not even an eye roll at any of Aria's decisions. That worried her.

She watched Adagio tease Rarity's purple curls, the two women giggling together, and a fragment of an old drinking song came to mind. 'But since it falls unto my lot, that I should rise and you should not ...' Adagio had lowered herself, so that Aria could rise, at a time when they needed new decisions.

How had Adagio done it for so many centuries? Through their banishment, their struggle to survive, their many narrow misses? Adagio had always plotted the next plan when the first one failed, dragged her grumbling sisters through deserts, forests, and hostile towns, and kept them all together.

Aria had experienced all of that from a lower position, always convinced she could do better. Now here she was, head of their little triumvirate, and all she needed to deal with was the loss of their gems, their immortality, and any hope for their future.

Frankly, it was surprising Adagio had kept her mouth shut this long.

Okay. Enough settling and finding her fins beneath her. Stick to the plan. Rest, recover, and renew. Everyone had rested from the original energy exchange. They'd recovered whatever energy they'd lost or absorbed, and renewed their strength. Now she had to feel out those mingled energy signatures, and separate Rainboom from Siren. The Equestrians could use their magic again elsewhere, and the former Sirens wouldn't depend on that magic to sustain themselves.

Here went nothing.

“Everyone sit.” Aria demonstrated for them by crossing her legs and lowering herself onto a yoga mat. “And pair up.” She nodded at Sonata and Fluttershy as they sat together. “Yeah, like that. Sit beside each other, get comfortable, no one go boosting anyone's energy or anything.”

She waited, resting her wrists on her knees. A quick flex of her fingers produced several light crackles in her joints, and she stretched her shoulders, sitting up straight. Oof, she'd been slouching around the apartment again, judging by the ache that produced.

Adagio and Rarity sat in front of her, on one side, with Sonata and Fluttershy facing her on the other. Good. Aria tilted her head to look up at a hesitating Sunset Shimmer. “You wanna sit, too? I've got three sets of links to sort through, including ours, but hey, if you want your magic to stay hitched to mine, by all means ...” The rest of her comment dissolved into a groan as Treehugger passed behind her and pressed down on top of her head.

Tilting her head back to glower, Aria was met with a lazy smile. “Focus,” Treehugger coaxed, tracing her fingers down the back of Aria's head and pushing it back to an even keel. “Let her make up her mind in her own time.” Sparing a glance at Sunset, she folded her legs beneath her to settle down on Aria's other side.

Aria eyed the serene Treehugger. “Am I on my own time, too?” she asked. “Because I might need some leeway.” She wasn't stalling, no way. Focus took concentration, and she didn't want to push into Treehugger's own schedule.

“Shhyah, not like I have any clients today.” Treehugger hummed as she lounged in a full lotus, her lazy purple gaze meeting Aria's. Her toes flexed, feet resting on the opposite thighs with no apparent effort. “My space, and my energy, are totally yours.”

Sucking in a tight breath again, Aria stared at her. “Are you sure about that?” she squeaked. She took a second to clear her throat. Talking while inhaling always made her voice go funny. “You're offering tasty bait to a predator.”

Treehugger nodded. “You were one, once, but now what would you do? You're not hungry.”

Aria hesitated, instinctively checking for the now-absent gnawing in her stomach. No, no, she wasn't hungry. She couldn't feed on energy, didn't need it any more. So what good would the offer do? “I could always save it for later if I get hungry again.”

“Mm, probably not going to happen,” Treehugger drawled. “Going back is worse than going forward. Even if you could do that, you wouldn't.” She glanced over Aria's head at Sunset Shimmer. “You didn't.”

“No, I didn't,” Sunset admitted, sinking down onto the mat on Aria's other side, and tucking her legs beneath her. “I won't go back, ever, even if I had the choice.” She put a hand on Aria's back, and a swell of contentment filled Aria's chest. Ridiculously, it made her feel better having Sunset at her shoulder. “It's hard to move forward, but it's the only thing that works.”

In Aria's own analogy for this, which she hadn't told to anyone, there wasn't a way back. One either fought the current or swam with it. She could struggle in the same spot until she was exhausted, or plunge through uncharted waters and hope. Aria had already decided her best way through was to swim like mad, and do her best to dodge the rocks.

Treehugger brushed her other shoulder. “Go on, you can do this. Breathe.”

Aria breathed. Her chest rose and fell. She couldn't see the energy waves that linked the pairs in front of her, but she could feel — well, parts of it. The sharp tang of Rarity and Adagio's mingled energy tickled one side of her, like a puff of cool vapor. On the other side, Sonata and Fluttershy's energy caressed her like a breath across the waves. Oh, yes, she could feel the bonds now, simmering beneath the surface.

The old ways of healing involved her voice, a touch of Siren magic, and perhaps a little siphoning of some energy as a reward. The new way would be more difficult.

With Sunset Shimmer and Treehugger anchoring her, Aria reached out into the possibilities.

-~-~-~-~-~

Adagio's chest warmed, and she tilted her head back, letting the weight of her orange hair take over. She sighed as she lifted her chin, drawing Rarity's attention with both sigh and the expanse of her long, soft throat.

“Adagio, please,” Rarity murmured. “Now's not the time for distractions.”

“Don't get distracted, then,” Adagio purred. “Can't you feel that? It's divine.” As divine as leaving responsibility behind, even if only for a while. She fluttered her eyelashes and smiled, the wave of Aria's probe washing over her.

Aria and Sonata used to snort that Adagio had no sense of fun, that she didn't know how to relax. True, she didn't, because someone in this damned trio needed to have a brain. Safety was fleeting in the old days, with all the strife, suspicion, and switching towns. Even after she'd finally found a place and made sure money would never be a problem again, she'd still kept one eye on the future. And when Aria had fallen into near rebellion from frustration and anger, Adagio had kept her other eye on her own two knuckleheads.

Now a relaxed, restored, and responsible Aria would lead, with Adagio's blessing and permission. The scorn, the thinking, the need for a plan, none of it mattered any more. She was free to make no more decisions, dream no more schemes. Of course, all the danger was long past. She had led for centuries and dragged the Sirens through all the dangers. Aria's path would be simple the rest of the way, and Adagio could fade into the background. Assuming this little ritual worked.

“Everyone breathe normally,” Aria intoned, gazing through heavy-lidded eyes. “I've got this.”

Rarity made an uncertain noise, shifting closer to Adagio as the energy between them pulled a bit tighter.

“Relax,” Aria coaxed, pitching her voice lower. “It's all very good.”

Adagio slid her hand over Rarity's knee, squeezing lightly. “I don't have to hold you still, do I?” she whispered, half-teasing. “Not like last time.”

A hot flush took over Rarity's cheeks, and she sighed, subsiding. “Hardly necessary.”

“Good. The sooner we're done with this, the sooner I can stop having the urge to take you shopping.” Rarity had done something in their last moment together, given her a small piece of that shopaholic, fashion-forward personality in that energy exchange, she was sure of it. Adagio Dazzle did not want to shop until she dropped. She hated department stores. Well, except for that one time seventy-five years ago. No better way to start a delicious squabble than dangling forbidden nylon stockings over a crowd of fashion-desperate women.

Rarity perked at that, but gasped as their link flared higher as Aria pulled on it. The pull intensified, Adagio hissing from the stretch in her breastbone as she leaned into the pressure. Rarity's violet curls swirled and rose, the rush of energy lifting them. Their chins tilted up, chests thrusting forward as Aria delicately coaxed their bond apart strand by strand, the room filling with potential energy. Beside them, Fluttershy and Sonata arched in unison as their own bond flared, the same pressure bringing out their mingled energy.

Aria shuddered, rolling her head from side to side as she picked up the weight of all three pairings. Behind her, Sunset winced and gasped, jerking her shoulders forward as if something had snapped free inside her. Treehugger shot her a worried glance, but leaned forward, putting her hand on Aria's back.

The pull increased, the tension hitching Adagio's shoulders higher, making her curl over. She grimaced, trying not to fight losing the last thing holding her to this weak world. This was for the best, for the safety of the women who'd saved them, and for their own peace of mind. She had to give it all up to be herself, in a new way, and share that weakness.

With one last pull, the bonds parted. Not jerking or snapping, but lifting free, like rising from Equestria's seabed and letting the pressure fall away. Energy gave way, as the individual signatures untangled and returned to their original sources, every woman in the room receiving her fill.

Aria leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and rubbing her chest. Treehugger leaned over her, talking softly, with occasional worried looks at Sunset Shimmer, who had curled over with a fist pressed against her collarbone.

“Oh. Oh, my,” Rarity breathed, rubbing her own breastbone, and flexing her shoulders warily.

Adagio's chest throbbed too, but the energy seal held. “Mmf,” she agreed, pressing her fingers carefully between her breasts. No pain echoed up from where her magic once lay. She was still whole, and still healing. “How do you feel?”

“That does sting a bit more than pulling off a band-aid,” Rarity commented, pushing some of her purple curls aside. “Still, if it means something will devour only me instead of consuming both of us, it's worthwhile.”

Adagio scoffed. “Please, nothing will devour you, despite Aria's worries. This just means you can recharge your energy if someone or something tries to drain it like we did.” And even though she could no longer make a meal of Equestrian magic, jealousy surged at the idea that something else out there would ever try.

Aria suddenly crouched beside them, both women starting as they'd been distracted by each other, and hadn't seen her get up. “You two are okay, yeah?”

“We're fine. What's the matter with Sunset?” Rarity peered around her.

Aria waved dismissively. “We got linked differently than the four of you,” she said, rolling her eyes, “so it pulled a little harder to break us up. Treehugger says she's fine.” She eyed them professionally. “No one move too fast, okay? Let everything settle.” Getting up, she went to check on Sonata and Fluttershy.

Adagio cautiously prodded at her cleavage some more, then decided to leave it alone before she bruised herself. “Well, there you go. No longer linked with me.”

“I suppose not.” Stretching languorously and showing off how young and flexible she was, Rarity sighed. “What will you do with the rest of the day?”

“I've got some time on my hands,” Adagio said, shrugging. “Perhaps I can waste several hours watching people make rolled ice cream on Hooftube or something.” She nodded to where Aria knelt between Sonata and Fluttershy. “She's the one who has to plan now, not me.”

“But you're helping her, yes?” Rarity pressed, “Giving her the advice she needs to succeed?”

Oh, the ponies had been working on these girls. So eager to help, to make things better. Adagio squeezed her eyes shut to avoid that vivid blue gaze. She would cave in a broken heartbeat if she looked at Rarity. “Aria hasn't asked for my help,” she growled through clenched teeth, “and I won't impose it. She has to find her own style.”

Silence. Something nudged her shoulder, and Adagio kept her eyes closed, ignoring it. Another nudge, and Adagio growled again.

“You don't have to do this to yourself,” Rarity murmured. “Don't you remember what I told you at Sugarcube Corner? Don't hold yourself back from something just because you think it's for the best.”

Adagio gave in, opening her eyes, and foisting Rarity off with a delicate elbow. “I don't feel particularly useful right now, okay? I'm the one who spent five hundred years or so swimming upstream with them looped around my neck.” She pressed on her throat tenderly. With the pain gone, the tension in her jaw had eased. “Now that we've gone over the falls, I think I've earned the right to float a little while Aria figures things out. If I give her advice and it doesn't work, it's something else weighing her down. She's got enough challenges for now.”

Her sisters had rebounded thanks to the Rainbooms, with Aria's new challenge of living, and Sonata's devotion to Treehugger. Adagio wasn't ready for all that yet. She still needed some time with her own emotions, which was a luxury she hadn't given herself in ages.

Rarity studied her, blessedly quiet. Then she uncurled and pushed herself upright. “I understand. Come with me.”

Adagio gazed up, taking in the criss-cross mesh pattern on Rarity's yoga pants. The slim calves rising into well-rounded thighs, swelling into a pert rump that immediately drew the eye. Then the t-shirt tied off above the navel, showing a generous swath of alabaster skin.

She swallowed and took the proffered hand, getting up.

Everyone else in the room eyed them, but Rarity scoffed. “Oh, come on. We weren't all sitting here forever.” She slipped her arm around Adagio's waist. “I finished up a little something and I want to see how it looks on her, so I'm borrowing a bathroom, if I may, Treehugger?”

Treehugger waved vaguely. “Only got the one inside, unless you want to use the shower stall in the backyard.”

Both Adagio and Rarity turned to see the wooden enclosure down the brick path, the long showerhead sticking out at the top. Adagio noted the rain barrel behind the stall, as well as the spare hot water tank, and fought the surge of memories from that forest cottage outside Seaddle. Not here, not now.

“Quaint,” Rarity noted, “But perhaps something with more counter space, dear. Inside shall suffice for now, thank you.” She removed her hand from Adagio's hip, took her wrist instead, and led her towards the rest of the house.

“Don't forget to bring her back when you're done outfitting her,” Aria said, getting up and heading for the water cooler. “And if you tweak her energy, I'll know.” Her tone didn’t hold any malice, though, just a simple statement of her new responsibility.

Adagio stifled a chuckle. Yes, too much intimacy could tangle them together again, but she wouldn't refuse a little attention. As much as her shattered soul shied from taking on anything meaningful, Rarity was the reason she'd healed. Attention from her could only make things better.

Treehugger's bathroom was much like every other suburban home, simple enough, and it also doubled as her laundry room. A long way from the luxury of the Sirens' apartment, but it still held water, and Adagio could feel it coursing around her. Leaning on the wall between the bathtub and the stacked washer and dryer, she watched as Rarity rummaged in a large shoulder bag. “I don't suppose you stashed a coffee in there somewhere?”

“And contaminate all my swatches with the odour?” Rarity shook her head. “As much as I'm sure you'd adore a coffee-infused outfit, Adagio, no, I would not risk spilling it all over the insides of my best fabric bag.”

Adagio pouted. Caffeine was nice to have, and she'd rather have it before her cravings went from 'nice' to 'frantically gnawing on a bag of beans'. “Okay, so is this something I can wear out to get a coffee?”

“Perhaps.” Hesitating, Rarity glanced over at her. “Now, this might be difficult for you to see, and I'll understand if you hate it. I've done this without asking, but you inspired me, and, well, it's okay if you ...” She closed her eyes and breathed, then pulled a folded pile of pale yellow fabric from her bag, and thrust it into Adagio's arms. “Oh, here.”

Surprised, she awkwardly clutched the mound of cotton fleece, turning it in her hands as she tried to understand which way was up. Hoping for an opening, she followed what felt like a sleeve or a leg, only to find herself holding her own tail, all rich and golden.

It was her as a hoodie. From the outline of a gem on the chest, to the Siren tail at the waist with a shimmering caudal fin, it was a fabric Adagio. The hood had a dorsal fin as well, with narrowed eyes and a pair of feelers. She stared down at a lumpy pile of Siren, and her breath caught. How had Rarity made this so quickly? Had she even slept since they'd met, to do something this detailed in a few days?

She looked up at a still-tentative Rarity, meeting those blue eyes that looked uncertain. “Why?” she asked.

“Because you've reserved the right to keep to yourself.” Rarity nodded, in a there, I said it sort of way. “I figured this might serve as a signal for when you want to be left alone.” She mimed pulling a hood over her head. “Like so.”

Adagio stared at her, not quite processing her meaning. Her fingers kneaded the hoodie, fondling the fabric as she tried to understand.

Flustered, Rarity gestured. “I'm saying, it's okay to be vulnerable, darling. You're allowed to sulk, and this gives yourself permission to be a Siren again. Wearing it can let Sonata and Aria know if you need some time alone, yes?”

Adagio looked down again at her old self in cotton fleece. The gem was the same yellow as the rest of the hoodie, not the red that once rested there. A Siren without her gem, which was what she'd become. True, she wasn't ready to charge out of the devastation of losing her powers with a sudden, new liveliness like her sisters, but would swaddling herself in fleece and sulking in front of the television help?

“Denying yourself the small luxury of sorting out your emotions can lead to bigger problems,” Rarity said, her voice softer as she brushed Adagio's shoulder. “You said you've got nothing else to do, so wear this when you need to take the time, and take it off to involve yourself with your sisters again when you're feeling better. You're allowed ups and downs in your new life. Embrace them both.”

“That's what Sonata's done,” Adagio admitted. As much as she worried about Sonata's desire to follow Treehugger's ways, she couldn't deny her sister had found an anchor on her new life. She considered the pile of fabric in her arms, then herself in the mirror. Without her gem, she needed an anchor of her own, at least until she felt like swimming free again. Perhaps . . . “Can I try this on?”

“Please do.” Rarity hopped up to sit on the vanity on the far side of the sink, leaving the near side slice of mirror for Adagio. She kicked her legs back and forth, swinging her bare feet.

Pulling the sweater on, Adagio wiggled around and tugged on the waist as it hit her at mid-thigh. In her dark leggings, the golden fabric looked fetching, even though it hid all her curves. Much to her surprise, it did fit, the sleeves hitting her wrists without engulfing her hands, and she had enough room to move her shoulders. She had no clue how Rarity knew her measurements, although she supposed all that intimate caressing they'd done together had given the girl some idea of her body shape.

Pressing her fists on the counter, she stared at herself in the mirror. One last bit, and she swore she wouldn't freak out. She reached back, tugged the hood up over her head, and a Siren's features covered her forehead.

Curling her knuckles tighter into her hands, Adagio breathed deeply, and peeked out from beneath the fabric teeth to gaze at her old self one last time. The 'new' her, the her she'd been for centuries, peered out of the creature she once was. It had lived so long inside her, waiting to come out, and now she wore it as a piece of clothing, even though what she'd once been was no longer her.

Adagio relaxed her grip and met her own eyes, staring at the mirror. An echo of regret sounded in her chest, her broken voice finally grieving the loss she'd caused, the mistakes she'd made, but it was a mere sliver of the pain she'd endured the last few days. The sting of failure had already begun to fade.

She glanced at Rarity out of the corner of her eye. “I don't hate it,” she admitted. “I might regret wearing this around Sonata, though. She'll take it and pretend to be me.”

Rarity giggled. “I might find a line for those, if there's demand. Naturally, you'll get royalties.” She sobered and reached for Adagio's hand. “Still, are you all right?”

Sighing, she allowed Rarity to draw her closer, twining her fingers through hers. Her heart hadn't seized, her throat hadn't closed up, and she wasn't bawling her eyes out, but was she really okay? She didn't want to take the hoodie off just yet. It felt like a cocoon, holding her together until she could finally wriggle free and face her future.

She used her hip to daintily nudge Rarity's knees apart, and slipped between them. Even with their difference in height, Rarity's seat on the countertop put her a tad higher, which meant Adagio could comfortably lean her forehead on Rarity's shoulder, and close her eyes. “Now, I'm okay,” she murmured.

An arm slipped around her waist, pulling her closer, and Rarity lifted the edge of the hood so her soft lips could press against Adagio's temple.

Yeah, for this moment, as long as it lasted, she would be okay.

-~-~-~-~-~

Sonata leaned forward, resting her forearm on her knee. Of course, since she had that leg braced on the lower railing of the suite's balcony, it pulled her leather pants tighter over her rump. She knew how much attention she garnered when she did that, which was fine. It meant people enjoyed her performance, and her lead guitarist could intimidate anyone who tried to get close.

The rest of the Dusk Kickers closed in behind her as the stagehands below finished the setup for the next band. Her band could look at her ass all they wanted, since she usually stood in front of them. Nearly all of them were immune to it by now, anyways.

String Picker handed Sonata an iced, long-necked beer bottle, and used the opener on the in-suite fridge to pop the cap on his own. “Think these gals rock as hard as we do?”

“I've got a feeling.” Sonata nodded and twisted off her bottlecap. Oh, she'd missed hands while she'd been in Equestria.

She'd spent three months away, following Aria and Adagio to see what had become of the home they hadn't had for centuries. Of course, without their Sirenity, they'd fallen out of the mirror portal into a heap of hooves, manes, and tails. Aria got the wings, Adagio got the horn, and Sonata got stuck to the land.

Life as a pony had been fine. They'd blended into the herd, and didn't stay long in any one place, until they'd made a small place together near the ocean. As they reconnected with the remnants of their past, they'd found their voices again, strengthened by pure Equestrian magic. They also did their best to stay out of sight of any of the Princesses. Sure, the Night Princess had peeked in on their dreams briefly, her star-spangled tail flicking in the corner of their eyes, as if to say she noted the new arrivals, but had made no official fuss.

The White Princess had watched from afar sometimes, appearing on hillsides around the Siren cove. Sonata had even waved to her once, but Celestia didn't intrude on their new life. As for Princess Twilight, aside from a brief offer of helping them onto their hooves and off the floor of her castle, she'd also left them alone.

Sonata had visited that world's Treehugger, who had been mildly confused, but pleased to have another pony understand her ethos. Still, she wasn't the Treehugger Sonata knew, hadn't gone through the life her Treehugger had. Pony experience was far from the human equivalent, and Sonata hadn't imposed once she'd figured that out.

They had lived their lives and healed themselves, then those portals had burst to life across Equestria. The air ripped apart for Adagio and Aria in Rainbow Falls, and Las Pegasus for Sonata, showing a freakish, all too familiar world. They saw the magic unleashed and crackling, glimpsed the scorched school grounds, and thought about nothing but Rainbooms.

Abandoning her plans to fleece a pair of street-level, con-artist brothers who would sell tomorrow if it got them through the day, Sonata had instinctively lunged for home, and landed in a new heap on the other side once again, this time in a tangle of arms and legs. Half a football field away, Aria and Adagio flung themselves out of the air, and just like that, Sunset Shimmer was once again not the only Equestrian in Canterlot High.

Once that particular dustup had settled and Aria had checked everyone's magic levels, Sonata had chosen to stay in the human world. The four-legged life was fine, but doing everything with her mouth had done terrible things to her tastebuds. Aria and Adagio left again, coming and going as they pleased, able to adapt between hooves and feet, and Sonata would sometimes return to Equestria when she missed her sisters.

But now she had this motley lot of fools at her back, and she was ever so content. The rough twang of their nitty-gritty country sound had drawn her in at the bar one night and the Dustkicking Division soon became the Dusk Kickers. Small and local, but fierce in their playing, they accepted her as she'd lifted their profile from dive bars on Friday nights to playing in country and rock festivals.

Tonight, however, they were her guests for this particular concert.

The crash of sound washed over the room, metal guitars backed by heavy synthesizers. As the music thundered, the high, cold song of two fully restored Sirens rose over it, Aria and Adagio appearing from either side of the stage.

Sonata grinned. She'd convinced them to come back for a spell, for a chance to show off and get the joy of performing once more. No one here would be enthralled by magic tonight, though, and no fights would occur, but her sisters would still get the adoration and love they deserved. She could sit and watch, comfortable in the devotion of her fellow band members.

And best of all, no Rainbooms would interfere. She'd seen them all go off to some summer camp just a few days ago. The Sirens had Canterlot to themselves, just for one night.

No magic here could stop them.

-~-~-~-~-~