“What are your plans for the future?”
Smolder laid on her bed, head resting on her claws and looking utterly ambivalent to the question. The ceiling was as blank as her feelings on the issue.
“Don’t have any,” Smolder replied.
Ocellus blinked, staring at her from the seat next to her writing desk. “Um…”
“Yeah, I know. Mrs. Straight-and-serious doesn’t think much of the girl who isn’t going for the upwardly-mobile angle out of her life.” Smolder offered Ocellus a weary smirk as she sat up and stretched. “You knew what you were getting into when you decided to talk to me.”
Literally speaking, Smolder and Ocellus sat rather close to each other, even given that they were on arguably opposite sides of their shared room. The latter seemed locked into a confined space just around a desk which frequently bore the brunt of her scholarly obsessions, while the former was sprawled out on a bed used as often as an oversized chair as it was a sleeping mattress, but the two were close to the boundaries of their invisible spaces. Close enough, in any case, to get a good read on each other while they talked.
“No, it’s not…I don’t think less of you.” Ocellus leaned back over the desk, slid a bookmark into a slightly battered copy of The Hoof and the Rose and set it down. “I’m just surprised. I thought everycreature wanted to do something with their life.”
Smolder’s tail flicked. “I want to not die. Good gems and a nice cave to sleep in would be nice. Does that count?”
“Um…”
“The answer’s no. Don’t stress yourself out over it, buggo.” Smolder yawned.
“Why?”
Smolder arched an eyebrow. “Why…what?”
“Why, um…” Ocellus cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, it just sounds like, um…like you don’t—”
“Lemme stop you right there.” Smolder leaned forward a bit and raised a talon. “I don’t not care about things. I’m not some lazy, apathetic…lazy dragon. I just don’t particularly care about what happens after school.”
“Oh.” Ocellus sat up in return and rested her hooves in her lap. Smolder hated the way she sat like that, and hated that she couldn’t put a reasonable…reasonable reason as to why. Part of it was Ocellus looking taller than she did last year, relative to the chair, but it didn’t make sense to be mad at her for being tall. And resting her hooves like that made her look…dignified? Regal? It made her look formal, in any case, but not like a princess. And that was the worst of both worlds, really: too professional to be friendly, but not fancy enough to feel like royalty.
Smolder could have reached out and poked Ocellus’s snout, but even at this distance she abruptly felt rather distant from the changeling, and she didn’t like that feeling at all. Instead of fixating too long on the idea and wanting to move on from it, Smolder sighed and rubbed her head. “Like I said, it’s a problem. I mean, it’s the sort of thing you’d think was a problem.”
“No, not necessarily, it’s…” Ocellus waved a noncommittal hoof in the air. “It’s just strange. And I guess I can’t give you my second Hearth’s Warming present.”
Smolder pulled her claw away from her head and grinned impishly. “Aw, and deny your bestie a gift? You wouldn’t punish me this way, would you?”
“It wouldn’t make sense.” Ocellus returned Smolder’s grin with a sad smile. “I can’t give you advice for what to do after you graduate from the school of friendship if you don’t know what you want to do.”
“Oh.” Smolder cocked her head to the said, obviously disappointed. “Yanno, I figured you were gonna give me a book or something. I can’t exactly unwrap a bunch of words.”
“Oh! Nonono, don’t worry about that! I got something that can be unwrapped for you!” Ocellus chirped, her cheer abruptly restored. “Something I think you’ll like, too! I worked super hard for it.”
“Don’t you mean ‘super hard on it?’ ”
Ocellus shook her head. “Why do you think I’ve been gone so often for the past couple of months? I had to take time this month for exams and holiday activities with you and our friends, but I had to do a lot of temporary work to make things perfect. Haunted house decorator, pastry chef, soil plower, seed manager…”
Smolder blinked. “Wait, soil plower? Nu-uh. No way you’re strong enough to haul a plow by yourself.”
“A little shapeshifting goes a long way!” Ocellus giggled lightly. She looked undeniably pleased with herself, but in a manner that suggested enthusiasm for a job well done over egotistical self-exultation, and Smolder couldn’t help but crack a smile. “And everything else just took a little bit of reading, that’s all. A little reading goes a long way, too!”
“You borrowed that from Princess Twilight Sparkle.” Smolder jabbed a talon at Ocellus. “And I’m guessing you borrowed her work ethic too, huh.”
“I’d like to think so!” Ocellus beamed. “But hopefully it’ll all be worth it. And if nothing else, who knows if something I learned might be super useful for the future?”
“Yeah, doing a lot of work to prepare yourself for doing a lot of work? Totally you. But hey, I guess if you feel set…”
Smolder paused. Silently, her talon and expression drooped, until impish cheer and faux-accusatory assertiveness were both gone.
Ocellus’s expression fell in tandem, and she cocked her head to the side as she stared at Smolder. “Um…Smolder? Is something wrong?”
“Nah! Nah, it isn’t. Just…you’re super forward-thinking today, aren’t you.” Smolder’s claw dropped onto her thigh, idly tapping against her orange scales. “What changed? Is there something big that I haven’t heard of?”
Ocellus gulped. “No, nothing like that.”
“Is it some kind of secret you’re keeping from me?” Smolder’s expression didn’t change, but faint wisps of smoke drifted from her nostrils.
Ocellus’s body stiffened. “No! I promise, I—”
“And is this why you’ve looked low-key tired for the past…however long? Weeks? I’ve been worried that you’ve got some kind of sleep issue, but I figured you’d talk to Principal Starlight if it got really bad.”
Ocellus exhaled, looking—somewhat surprisingly—relieved. “Mmhmm. Between it and exams, I feel like I’ve hardly had time to talk to anycreature at all. I’ve missed—”
“I kinda know how that feels, honestly.” Smolder’s body relaxed slightly as she stretched and yawned. “I keep having to meet with Professor Rarity after lessons, and then there’s the party prep that Professor Pinkie’s been having me help out with…hey, that’s how come you haven’t been showing up for it, right? Does Principal Starlight know about it?”
“I had to get her approval first. And by ‘approval’ I mean ‘a lot of talking about my future.’ You would have hated it.” Ocellus chuckled softly. “My brain felt like it was strapped to a merry-go-round by the time I left.”
“You felt like that at the end? Mrs. Book-smart buggo herself? Yeah, that sounds like the sort of pain and suffering that deserves a vigorous bout of dragon noogies.” Smolder smirked. “But I’m guessing it’d get me in trouble if I got my sweet revenge on the principal, right?”
“Maybe.”
“Ugh. School is so unfair sometimes.” Smolder groaned and flopped back on her bed. “At least party prep only leaves me physically exhausted. Kinda retroactively worth it, though.”
“Oh?” Ocellus draped her forelegs over the backrest of the chair. “Did you find satisfaction in a job well done? Professor App—”
Smolder sat up, raised her claws in alarm and mimed shushing Ocellus up. “No! Don’t even start! Don’t even say her name next to the idea of work! It’s like she can smell laziness, like a…like a diamond dog can smell gems, or something. Don’t jinx it and get her to make me plow fields in the middle of winter.”
“She’s not—”
“She is way that bad, trust me. End of—hey, actually, you know what?” An unexpected sparkle flashed in Smolder’s eyes. “If you haven’t gotten a good look at the main hall yet, you need to come see it with me. I’m pretty sure we’re allowed to reveal the decorations now that friendship exams are done, which means that if you haven’t been helping out, you have no idea what it’s gonna look like.”
“That’s…” Ocellus paused, then slid out of her chair. “True, actually. I wouldn’t mind giving my eyes a break from our room. I’m guessing you decked the halls with boughs of holly?”
“This…” Ocellus blinked, then rubbed her eyes. “This, um…”
Any casual observer, Ocellus included, likely could have predicted the greenery surrounding the window panes, the strings of lights pinned to the walls and the sprigs of mistletoe hung from the ceiling on lengthy cords of string. Similarly predictable was the table covered in trays of cookies and bowls of holiday punch, the wreaths on the backs of the front hall’s double doors and the huge and elaborately decorated trees by every corner. And the intermingled decorations of many different sorts, each looking hoofcrafted in varying degrees of proficiency, cast the spacious room in varying shades of red and green that fit the season in a pleasantly predictable manner.
The middle of the main hall being decked out like a nightclub, however, wasn’t.
It wasn’t just the issue of how a good chunk of the middle of the hall was lit up like a dance floor, from the stage lights to the inset panels to the speakers that looked as if they had sprung up from the ground like metallic ferns. It was also the matter of the smaller cubes alongside said speakers, which Ocellus pegged at an eighty percent chance of being fog machines. And it was most certainly the matter of the sturdy and imposingly-sized honest-to-Celestia disk jockey booth on the far side of the hall, trimmed neatly and distastefully in what looked like neon tubing.
In short, it was the sort of clashing decor that made it seem like the traditional festive celebrations were about to erupt into something excessively nontraditional at the drop of a horseshoe.
“Way more than just holly, huh?” Smolder turned toward Ocellus, grinning like she had just won the lottery.
“It’s…” Ocellus worked her mouth silently for a couple of seconds, before taking a deep breath. “Different.”
“I know, right? Nocreature’s gonna see this coming. Except for the ones who also helped build this and got it set up this morning.” Smolder’s grin faltered, concern trickling into her features. “I’m gonna assume that you were snoozing while I was out, right? You look less dead on your hooves than you did last night.”
“I, um…I was sleeping, yes.” Ocellus’s eyes flicked back and forth from the traditional holiday decorations to the explicitly modern decor as if unable to reconcile the two.
“Yeah, ‘cause you…haven’t been looking too good lately, Cellie.” Smolder’s smile vanished entirely. “Or is it something about the setup? If you’re worried about a lot of the stuff falling over once things really get going tonight? I know I designed things to basically be Yona-proof, but—”
“No! Not that!” Ocellus squeaked. “I’m just…I’m just surprised, that’s all! This must have taken a lot of work, and…”
Smolder’s smile returned, and she moaned softly as she stretched her arms, once again looking pleased with herself. “I guess it did, huh? I mean, I got clearance from the professors about it counting for classes, honestly. Honest labor, done out of kindness and loyal devotion for others as an act of holiday generosity…”
“What about Professor Pinkie?”
“Eh. She thought the idea was funny.” Smolder shrugged. “I wasn’t sure whether or not the other ponies really got what I was going for, but that’s on them. Besides, it’s not like there aren’t wreaths and stuff, it still counts.”
“I…suppose.” Ocellus glanced at the decorations again, then rubbed her eyes. “Still, that much work…”
“Kept me busy. Not that I minded. Though….” Smolder’s smile fell again as she scratched the top of her head. “We, like…really haven’t talked that much, huh?”
“I was…” Ocellus shifted uncomfortably. “I was thinking the same thing.”
The two stood in awkward silence.
Finally, Smolder coughed. “So, uh. Wanna get Gemburgers?”
Ocellus smiled. “I was hoping you’d ask.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
Smolder sat across from Ocellus on the windowside table of the no-longer-aptly-named Hay Burger, a citrine and blue cheese gemburger clenched in her claws. “ Sup?”
“Why do you, uh…” Ocellus gestured at her untouched gemburger and hay fries. “You know I can’t eat those.”
“Less like can’t, more like don’t.” Smolder grinned impishly. “You could always transform and chow down, you know.”
“I know! I know. That, or just…enjoy you eating a double dose.” Ocellus paused. “I know how much you like these.”
“Better than the school cafeteria.” Smolder took a large bite, crunching her mouthful of minerals with gusto before swallowing and sighing with relief. “Way better. ‘Sides, you look happy with this, too.”
Ocellus was leaning a little further over the table, face blissful and eyelids somewhat drooped. “Mmm. Maybe.”
“You’re such a silly bug.” Smolder chuckled, picking up a hay fry from Ocellus’s plate and popping it whole into her mouth. “Mmmph. Who ever hearf of a chanfhlinh who liph…mmh.” Smolder swallowed. “A changeling who liked the casual joy of other creatures having delicious food?”
“Not everycreature.” Ocellus shook her head. “You like your food way more than anycreature else.”
“IIIIIIII doubt that.” Smolder arched an eyebrow. “Have you seen how much some of our friends eat? No way I like food as much as—”
“You’re discerning, and that helps a lot. Yona and Gallus just like eating in general.” Ocellus rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Honestly, trying to feed off of them would be like shoving a bunch of pillows in my mouth. And Silverstream just loves everything. It gives me a headache sometimes.”
“You and me both. I mean, in general with her, not with the food-love-eating-stuff. That girl can be a clawful.” Smolder gestured aimlessly with her nearly-finished gemburger. “I’m a bit surprised that you don’t…”
Smolder fell silent. Ocellus blinked, waiting for her to finish her sentence. Nothing came.
“That I don’t…what?” Ocellus probed.
“Why are we, y’know…” Smolder set her gemburger down. “Why don’t you hang out with Silverstream all the time?”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“ ‘Cause she’s absurdly loving. Of, like, everything. She’s probably got hearts floating off her like flies over basically anything ever.” Smolder folded her arms. “Isn’t that, like, prime changeling fuel?”
Ocellus frowned. “And you think I want to spend time with others just because they’re fast food?”
“I…” Smolder’s body relaxed, and she sighed. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”
Silence hung between them. The diner’s lack of customers, courtesy of everycreature else in ponyville preparing Hearthwarming Eve’s dinner, made the silence weigh all the heavier. Save for the dull drone from somewhere behind an Employees Only sign and a radio station that wasn’t much louder than white noise, there wasn’t anything to fill the air between them but the claws of grasping, wretched silence.
“Don’t…” Ocellus finally broke the ice. “Don’t know what to think about what?”
“About spending time with creatures for…for reasons.”
“What reasons?”
Smoke drifted out of Smolder’s nostrils again. “I don’t know, reasons! You know, whatever it is they want to do together. Work together, study together. Goof off together.”
Ocellus’s stare grew a little harder. “Anycreature? Or two very specific creatures?”
“Well, what if it is two very specific creatures? Even if it isn’t,” Smolder glared back. “Does it even matter if they don’t spend time with each other? You might as well have things be in name only at that point.”
“I think.” Ocellus’s voice took on a buzzing, insectile tone. “That this discussion is coming from a place of jealousy.”
“Jealousy? You think that I’m just — You think I’m just having some kind of temper tantrum?” Smolder snapped, a flicker of flames lighting up the back of her throat. “You think I’d wait until you woke up from Torch-knows-what, then show off something big I made for tonight’s party — which took a lot of work, you know — Or…wait, you wouldn’t know!” Smolder sputtered. “You weren’t there for any of it, were you?”
“I was busy.”
“You’re always busy! You don’t do anything but make yourself busy!” Smolder pushed herself out of her seat and leaned over the table, glaring daggers. “If it’s not work, it’s studying. If it’s not studying, you’re reading out of some stupid book and thinking about anything but now! Future plans, future plans, future plans until I want to barf!”
Ocellus leaned back over the table, shoving her face in front of Smolder. “Do you even know why I’ve been busy for the last few months? Do you even care?”
“How could I possibly care when you don’t even tell me what’s going on?”
Ocellus froze. The anger on her face froze as well, passion gradually leaking of its features until she looked bitter and hollow. Then, abruptly, she pulled back, shivering slightly.
“I think,” Ocellus concluded, “That we should probably have this conversation when we’re both ready to stop talking like nymphs.”
“Eat a rock,” Smolder snarled.
“I’ll talk to you later.” Stiffly, Ocellus stood up from her chair and walked out of the diner, undeterred by a sudden influx of snow as she headed back to the castle.
Smolder didn’t move until Ocellus was out of sight. Then, stiffly, she finished both gemburgers and platters of hay fries and left without tipping.
Snow was the worst. Or at least, at that moment snow was the worst.
It was cold, obviously. It felt even colder when it got in Smolder’s face while the wind was blowing in the worst possible direction, which of course it was. It made her get all dripping wet when she got inside, which wasn’t so bad unless you were going to head to your room and try not to feel stupid and awful for a while, which she was.
But mostly, snow was the worst for Smolder because she stuck out on the walk back. Bright orange on bright white, all by herself.
Alone yet again.
With a sigh, Smolder stepped into the main hall. Probably drew stares while she stalked through the hall, completely ignoring the decorations and everycreature else. Didn’t matter. Things felt too much like garbage for it to matter.
Life was garbage. Hearth’s warming eve was garbage.
She was garbage.
Smolder’s gait slowed as she drew near the student bedrooms. Abruptly, crossing the distance to her room felt that much longer. That much more of a trek. Not that she had anything better to do; Sandbar and Yona had peeled off a while ago to do Torch-knows-what, and then Gallus and Silverstream had peeled off to do the same.
Weird to think that she was heading off to get yelled at because the only thing worse was being bored.
She didn’t need this, Smolder thought. She didn’t need any of this holiday, any of these stupid celebrations, this…glittery, pompous hot mess in the main hall. She should have gone home. Smolder grabbed the doorknob, twisting it open as she thought that seeing her brother and her old cave would have been way better than seeing—
Ocellus crying.
Smolder paused in the doorway, not moving. Ocellus’s side of the room looked, for the first time Smolder had ever seen it, like a wreck. The contents of her desk — neat little pencil holders, tiny pocketbooks, highlighters, a small clock — were all over the floor, obviously shoved off in one sweeping shove. Her copy of The Hoof and the Rose lay on the far side of the room, spine-side up and looking significantly worse for wear.
On the desk was Ocellus’s head, smushed between her forelegs, chest heaving. The noise coming out of her mouth was somewhere between a hiss, a cricket’s chirp and the sound of a pony in agony. She didn’t turn to look at Smolder. She didn’t seem to be capable of processing much besides her own feelings, if “processing” was a synonym for being utterly crushed with them.
Smolder stood for a couple of seconds, clearly unsure of what to do or to say. Eventually, it struck her that it would probably be best for her to shut the door, which she did. Then, completely at a loss for what else to do, she walked over and sat next to Ocellus on her bed.
Things stayed that way for a dozen awkward seconds, then a dozen more.
Smolder continued to sit.
Ocellus continued to cry.
Eventually, though, Ocellus seemed to notice the dragon next to her. Chest still heaving, she raised her head, clearly trying to look as if she was capable of keeping things together for the moment. Her tear-slicked face belied it utterly.
“H-hey.” Ocellus coughed. “I-I…I…S-sorry.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
The two continued to stare at each other. Ocellus’s face looked as if it was ready to crumple up again.
“I’m, uh.” Smolder scratched her cheek. “I’m sorry, too. At what I said. That…wasn’t cool of me to say.”
“N-no, y-you were…you’re right.” Ocellus sniffed, another tear leaking from her face. “I should have…I should have said…I…”
“Hey.” Smolder leaned over and rested her claw on Smolder’s shoulder. “Take it easy, okay? Relax. Just calm down and talk to me.”
Part of Ocellus looked ready to defy the order. But, with a phlegmy snort and a deep breath, Ocellus nodded. “Okay.”
“Awesome. So…” Smolder leaned forward and stroked Ocellus’s cheek. “You wanna tell me what you think you should have said?”
“I…Okay. Okay.” With another phlegmy snort and a distinctly wet face, Ocellus made a weak attempt at straightening up a little. “Okay.”
“Cool.”
Ocellus paused. Her mouth worked for a little bit in silence before closing again.
Then, slowly, she stood up. “I. Have something to show you.”
Smolder stood up in turn. “Okay.”
Somewhat jerkily, Ocellus walked towards the door and pulled it open. Silently, Smolder followed behind her as she went a few doors down, jiggled the knob on its door and pushed it open.
“Uh…” Smolder raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t this Gallus and Sandbar’s room?”
“I needed the closet space.” Smolder walked towards their closet and opened the door. “I know you had something big in ours, so, um…”
It was her Hearth’s Warming present.
It was also bigger than any present had a right to be: as big as Smolder’s body, at least, maybe even a little bigger than that. Beneath the cherry-red wrapping paper and oversized cream bow, the corners of the box had stiff, hard-looking corners that suggested some kind of crate more than anything else. Smolder was at once profoundly thankful that the boys had space to spare and confused as to how they managed to get their entire lives crammed into what seemed like two saddlebags’ worth of remaining space.
“So, um…” Ocellus coughed. “Y-you might want to step back a little.”
“What? No way. Aren’t you gonna need help lifting that? It’s—”
In a flash of light, Ocellus was gone. In its place was a creature that looked somewhere between a puckwudgie, a bugbear and a bodybuilding dragon.
“—You we’re talking about, right.” Smolder stepped back, and followed as Ocellus carried it with one burly arm back to their room.
“Right.” Smolder set the crowbar in her claws down and began to work the crate open. “Here we go.”
It was, in fact, a crate. It was the sort of crate that needed tools to get open, with the sort of wood boards that could have doubled as campfire logs or bench slats. The sort of crate with nails which might actually be able to break scales.
The fact that she was opening it from the side instead of the top probably suggested something. Still, Smolder decided that hesitation was for Sandbar and hatchlings, and eagerly swung the crate open.
While she wasn’t quite sure of what to expect, Gold hadn’t been in the top twenty.
Gold with inlaid gems? Not in the top five hundred.
But the face that stared back was indisputably her own. Her own, gleaming face, on a similarly sculpted body in a pose that expressed heroism and confidence. To an unknowing observer, the dragon statue could only have been a vaunted hero from some great legend, the sort whose deeds must have been great enough to warrant preservation of the highest sort evermore.
For a few moments, Smolder couldn’t speak. Then she reacted in the only way possible: by turning back towards Ocellus, palms splayed and with an expression of utter confusion painted all over her face.
“Eeeeeeuuhhhh?????”
“It’s…I. You said, back before summer started, that you, um…” Ocellus scratched the back of her head, still looking ashamed but significantly less volatile. “You wanted an amazing hoard someday. That it was never too early to start getting, um…’super rich and crazy awesome.’ A-and I figured I could give you something more personal than just—”
“Wait. Hold the scroll, are you saying that you…” Smolder sputtered. “No way you actually made this.”
“What? I — I didn’t! I mean, I know I said that I was learning things, but I could never do something like that! I did have to, um…pay for it, though.” Ocellus blushed slightly, her remorse now tinged with embarrassment. “It was kind of…”
“Cell-cell, this…” Smolder gestured at the glittering replica of herself, completely dumbfounded. “This must have cost a fortune!”
“A little bit. I had to pay the cost back over time, but—”
“How little?”
Ocellus looked up at Smolder with a small, sad smile. “Why do you think I’ve been working so much?”
Smolder’s face froze, then fell. “Oh…Oh, Ocellus, you didn’t…”
“I’m not quite sure what you want to do with it. Put it in a gallery, maybe. Or keep it in your cave, when you get one. I’m not sure what dragon customs are for showing off wealth, but—”
Smolder sighed, rubbing her eyes. “And so you decided, because of something I said off the cuff months ago, that you wanted to work yourself half to death to get somecreature to make this?”
“It’s…” Ocellus drooped slightly. “It’s not what you wanted, is it.”
“What? No, it’s crazy awesome. Kind of a bit more on the crazy side, but still…” Smolder stepped a bit closer to Ocellus. “It’s not even the most valuable thing in the room. Kind of overshadowed, really.”
Ocellus looked confused. “Overshadowed by wh—”
Smolder grabbed Ocellus and kissed her hard.
The effect wasn’t unlike hitting a reset switch. Ocellus’s eyes went wide, then closed again as her body froze in place. Then Ocellus practically melted against Smolder, weighing her down and forcing her backwards until the two fell onto Smolder’s bed, tangled up in a warmer silence.
“You’re kind of strange, you know that?”
Ocellus layed on top of Smolder, showing no intention of getting up again. Neither really knew what time it was, and neither really cared to know anyway. “You mean about my gift?”
“Yeah. I mean…okay, I feel like basically that present can’t be topped, ever, by anything. It’s absurdly romantic. Stupidly romantic.” Smolder scratched Ocellus’s head. “But seriously, I know there’s asking somecreature ‘why did you get this?’ in a way that’s fishing for compliments, but I genuinely want to know why you did this.”
“You mean, um…” Ocellus thrummed softly. “You mean in terms of lo—”
“I mean even in terms of a gift, this is stupidly grandiose. And, like, I figured that most creatures wouldn’t expect or want a life-sized statue of themselves, so I guess you must have…” Smolder’s talon slid down and lightly rubbed at the base of Ocellus’s horn, causing her to shiver.
“I thought…I thought you’d like it.”
“I do! I do, it’s…I dunno how to put it, but it’s like…” Smolder’s tail dragged slowly from side to side. “Did you figure that I’d want some big thing as a gift more than anything else?”
Ocellus’s wings buzzed softly as Smolder rubbed, but she stayed quiet for a few seconds.
“I guess you don’t,” Ocellus finally replied.
“I mean, I don’t mind it. I like it, honestly.” Smolder reached up and tapped the top of Ocellus’s pointed horn, eliciting a small, delighted chirp from the changeling. “It’s just not the only thing that I like. ‘Stuff’ isn’t the only thing that matters to me.”
“What else does?”
Smolder smiled. “I’m looking at her.”
Ocellus blushed, staring rose-cheeked at Smolder for a couple of seconds. Then, abruptly, she giggled.
“Mmm?” Smolder replied.
“I’m sorry! That was just…really cheesy.”
“And you liked that, didn’t you?”
“Mmmmmaybe.” Ocellus grinned, still somewhat pink in the face, before reaching over and cupping Smolder’s cheek. “I like this.”
“Like what?”
“Talking. Just…being here with you, talking. I…” Ocellus’s smile vanished. “I missed you. But that was my own fault, wasn’t it?”
“Kinda. Not your fault as in you did a bad thing, but your fault as in…” Smolder paused. “Do you think we went into this too fast?”
Ocellus winced, looking slightly hurt. “But I—”
“I know, Cellie. Me too. But maybe if we talked more before starting this, then we’d know a bit more about each other. And we wouldn’t get into…” Smolder sighed. “I’m really sorry about being a massive jerk.”
“I wasn’t exactly nice to you, either.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t yell at me until I cried, so that’s probably an improvement.”
“Maybe.”
Smolder squeezed Ocellus a little tighter.
“So I guess…” Ocellus chewed on her lip a little. “...We should talk, right?”
Smolder smirked. “That’s probably a good idea if the problem is not talking to each other enough, yeah.”
“But…” Ocellus faltered. “I don’t know what to talk about.”
“Well, here’s something. I know you’ve been working a lot, and then there’s been school being…school, and exams being exams. Ick.” Smolder made a face. “But you’ve also been doing a lot of reading about the future, like, and just…reading about a lot of things in general. What’s up with all of that?”
“I…” Ocellus sighed. “I was thinking about going into politics.”
“Sounds complicated.”
“That’s a little bit of an understatement.” Ocellus smiled sadly down at Smolder. “And I thought it might mean that I wouldn’t get to see any of my friends after we all graduated. I wouldn’t get to see you.”
Smolder stayed silent for a second or two before replying. “So you wanted to know where I was gonna work? And live, I guess.”
“It sounds a little silly, doesn’t it?” Ocellus stroked Smolder’s cheek. “But If you were planning somewhere close, then…then maybe we’d…”
“I’unno what to tell you, Ocellus. I don’t know what I’m gonna do, and I’m not sure when I’ll figure out what I wanna do. But…” Smolder’s snout wrinkled with her smile. “Tell me where Mrs. Buggo Politician is going to do her politics thing once she figures it out, okay?”
Ocellus’s cheeks flushed again. “You mean…?”
“I’m not saying anything, much less promising anything. I still dunno where I’m gonna live, but, y’know…I can think of worse things to do than keeping you in my life, one way or another.”
Ocellus didn’t reply, looking like a moth in the lamplights.
“But.” Smolder booped Ocellus’s snout. “Less big ideas, more little things, okay? If you keep trying to get everything set up in the future, you’re gonna miss out on the present. Miss out on us.”
“I…okay.” Ocellus took a breath, staring down at Smolder. Then, abruptly, she relaxed again, weighing down a little bit more on Smolder’s chest. “I can try.”
“Good. Trying’s good.” Smolder traced another little circle around the base of Ocellus’s horn. “You know, technically speaking you don’t have a Hearth’s Warming gift for me now.”
“Oh!” Ocellus started, pushing herself up a bit. “But—”
“Relax.” Smolder giggled. “I can think of something else you can give me.”
“Um…” Ocellus paused. “Like what?”
“This.”
Smolder cupped her claws around Ocellus’s head, pulled her closer and kissed her again.
In the end, Smolder and Ocellus wound up late to the party.
It was inevitable, really. Both of them had a fair amount of catching up they needed to do.
And, later, they agreed that missing a little bit of the festivities was worth living in the here and now for a while.
