Of Wings and Horns

by ashi

Chapters

• 1. Late Arrival
• 2. Partner's Complaint
• 3. Pillow Talk
• 4. The Sensitivity of Wings
• 5. The Magic of Horns

1. Late Arrival

Fluttershy, normally so reserved, couldn't fight off the muzzle-splitting grin that broke out across her face as she crossed the threshold into her little cottage, enjoying the feel of the hard wood floor on her worn hooves; getting home at the end of a hectic day was a treat for anypony, but this one in particular liked to savour the moment as much as possible. She caught sight of herself in the gilt-edged full-length mirror that adorned the wall beside the coat-rack, and she laughed goofily at the ghastly simulacrum reflected back at her, scarcely able to believe that it was her. Her pink mane, usually well-kempt and held in place by a plethora of Rarity's secret concoctions, was in complete disarray, whole clumps sprouting off in random directions after an evening spent tearing through the Everfree Forest rounding up fickle manticore cubs. Her butter-yellow coat was covered in a hundred different types of muck, too, but she didn't care in the slightest.

        I'm just so happy to be home at last!

        As much as Fluttershy loved caring for and tending to the needs of Equestria's diverse array of wildlife, it was exhausting, and mostly thankless, work. While she knew in her heart that they appreciated what she did for them, it could get a little bit trying at times. Especially when the adorable little monsters were feeling mischievous.

        Rapidly coming to the conclusion that it was simply too much effort to go to all the trouble of unpacking her bags right now, particularly in light of the fact that all she wanted to do was make a nice hot cup of mint tea and put her hooves up, Fluttershy carefully stowed her saddlebags away in the closet. The second she closed the wooden mesh door, she let out a loud yawn and felt her neck stretching to its limits in order to work out the kinks in her spine; ever her wings took the opportunity to spread themselves out, and a cursory inspection of the feathers there told her that they were in need of some serious preening.

        Tomorrow, she silently promised them, much too tired to even consider going through the arduous process of wing-maintenance right now. Nurse Redheart had remonstrated with her more than once about the fact that she neglected to exercise them often enough, and she could only imagine what the irascible doctor would say to her about ignoring basic hygiene, too.

        An audible crack in the small of her back snapped Fluttershy out of her reverie; though the sound of her joints popping sounded worse than it was echoing as it did in the dark, quiet hallway, she nonetheless uttered a strained whimper at the dull note of pain there. One of these days, I'll have to get a proper massage. I just wish I wasn't so nervous about other ponies touching me.

        Her first instinct had been to head toward the bathroom and prepare for bed, but some impulse – a faint noise, perhaps, though she wasn't sure, and it's not as if strange sounds were at all unusual with the litany of animals that made the cottage their home also – made her turn into the living room first and what she found there startled her enough that she let out a soft, “Eep!”

        Lit by the soft amber glow of a lantern, Fluttershy could just about make out a purple figure with stars adorning their flanks draped across the sofa in front of the fireplace. Though they stirred slightly from their sprawled position on the couch at her sharp intake of breath, the figure made no attempt to join Fluttershy in the land of semi-wakefulness.

        Fluttershy was still more surprised by the buffet of different foods – each one a favourite of hers – sitting on the table, and a pang of regret thrilled through her when she realised that they had all long since gone cold. Even Pinkie Pie probably doesn't know how much I love Trottingham Truffles. I can't believe that you went to all of this effort for me, you silly unicorn. “Twilight?” she said quietly, nudging her shoulder gently with the tip of her hoof.

        She felt absurd when she realised that she was trying to wake somepony up by not waking them up. Slowly, she walked around to the front of the couch and knelt in front of the unicorn; hoping that she wasn't being too forward, she leaned in and brushed her lips ever so softly against the tip of Twilight's horn.

        “Mm,” said Twilight, a slight tremor rocking her body as she drew the word out into a purr in her insouciant state; sleepily, she extended her forelegs to encompass the pegasus in a tight clinch, caressing her neck gently. For a long moment she did nothing else but revel in the warmth and softness of Fluttershy's body against hers, inhaling deeply the pungent earthy aroma that she radiated. Her natural lavender scent was hidden underneath a layer of dirt and grime, but Twilight didn't care. Fluttershy's smell was wonderful as it was. It was the scent of nature, and the pegasus was as natural as they came. “I'm so glad that you're home,” she added groggily, blinking a few times in sharp succession to try and clear the sticky film from her eyelids.

        Fluttershy broke free of the hug and looked at Twilight Sparkle lamely. “I'm so sorry,” she said, quickly averting her eyes from the unicorn's inquisitive expression.

        “For what?” asked Twilight, rubbing her eyes with her hooves and sluggishly pulling herself into an upright position.

        “If I'd known that you were going to do this-” she gestured in the direction of the banquet that Twilight had prepared for them “-if I'd known that you were going to go to this much trouble, I would've made more of an effort to get back here on time.”

        “Hey, shush,” Twilight said, offering the pegasus a reaffirming smile; she put a hoof on her back and started rubbing it slowly, a reddish tinge darkening her muzzle. “To be honest, it's my own fault, anyway. I wanted to surprise you because it's, uh, well ...”

        “What is it?” asked Fluttershy, enjoying the back rub in spite of her annoyance at herself for not being able to make it home earlier.

        “It's, um-” Twilight couldn't help feeling silly “-it's been three months since we, you know, starting dating.”

        “Oh,” replied Fluttershy flatly, scarcely able to believe it. Has it really been that long already? It feels like nothing at all. A frown creased her muzzle as the searched her memories; it was all a blur, a whirlwind of scenes that bore about as much relation to each other as a wyvern did to a hydra. After the strain of some thoroughly wretched adventure or other, when they had finally returned home they'd ended up entangled in the embrace of each others legs, holding each other tightly with neither one willing to release the other for fear of losing them. It had been as if a pressure valve had finally been allowed to blow off its accumulated steam: something that had been building for a long time, and it had taken coming close to the brink for them to realise just how much they cared about each other.

        Both intensely private ponies, they still hadn't informed their closest friends of the new circumstances of their relationship; it was always possible that they knew, of course, but if so they were respecting Fluttershy and Twilight's desire to keep things quiet. “I didn't realise,” Fluttershy finally said after a long moment. Her eyes had trouble meeting Twilight's. “I'm sorry.”

        Dragging herself up off the couch and on to all four hooves, Twilight shook her head languidly, her bedraggled violet mane falling over her eyes. “Don't worry about it, Fluttershy,” she said, her eyelids feeling heavy as she drowsily made her way  to the bathroom. “I read in a book that some ponies like to mark such anniversaries, but not all of them do. Mostly, I just wanted to show you a little bit of kindness in return for everything you've done for me in the past.” Stifling a yawn with her hoof, she added from the doorway, “Anyway, I'm gonna hit the hay. I'll clean all of this up-” she gestured dully toward the spoiled food “-in the morning, so just leave it, okay?”

        “Twilight-” said Fluttershy, but she winced when the bathroom door slammed shut.

2. Partner's Complaint

After completing her own nightly routine – she couldn't be bothered with a shower or bath at the moment, so she'd settled for using cleansing wipes to get rid of the worst of the dirt – Fluttershy followed Twilight into the bedroom, a forlorn look aimed at the unicorn's flank; she felt her tiredness evaporate as a familiar feeling washed over her, and the pegasus found herself chewing on her bottom lip to prevent herself from sighing out loud. Empathy. On the one hoof, it's a great feeling because it helps me to understand my animal friends, but on the other … it makes me feel responsible whenever things go wrong, even if I'm not to blame. She turned the lantern off and the room was plunged into darkness but for the soft waxy moonlight spilling in through the still-open curtains, casting everything within it in the aura of a pale whiteness.

        Twilight was doing her best to to brush the wasted evening off as if it were no biggie, but all that Fluttershy could see was the effort. In a way, it was a terrible burden to know somepony so well that, even when they were trying to spare you from suffering the pain of hurt feelings, you could see their disappointment as if it were a tangible thing sharing the room with you. The unicorn was many things, but she was not a liar, nor was she particularly adept at masking her emotions. Those big, soulful mulberry-coloured eyes of hers spelled out her inner turmoil in block capitals as she crawled morosely into bed, the springs giving a pitiful creak of protest as they acclimated themselves to her weight.

        Perhaps it's the reason that you and I are so compatible? It's a way of life that's all too familiar to me. On numerous occasions, Fluttershy knew that her passive nature had forced her to still her tongue when it was imperative that she speak up; her friends were left frequently frustrated by this behaviour, and she was doing her best to become more assertive, but it was a long and winding path. She owed it to Twilight to show her the same consideration that she had so often been given. “Twilight,” she said kindly, softly easing herself into the bed next to the unicorn and placing a gentle hoof on her shoulder, “you know that you don't have to hide your feelings from me, right?”

        “I'm not hiding anything, Fluttershy,” Twilight replied, just a little bit too pointedly as she continued stare in the direction of the muted brown wall opposite, subtly shifting herself just out of the pegasus' reach. “I'm just tired, okay? I'd like to get a little bit of sleep so that I'll have a relatively clear mind when I write tomorrow's Friendship Report for Princess Celestia.”

        “Can we just talk for a second, please?” asked Fluttershy, trying not to betray just how hurt she was by Twilight's evasive demeanour. She didn't know much about relationships, but one thing that she'd always heard was the oft-repeated maxim: never go to bed angry.

        Through a clenched muzzle, Twilight said huffily, “Fine,” and rolled on to her back, folding her forelegs over her chest as she did so.

        Fluttershy felt a sense of relief that, in the darkened room, Twilight wouldn't be able to see her rolling her eyes at the unicorn's intransigence. She wanted to reach out to stroke her mane tenderly, or to hold her hoof, but she resisted these urges, knowing that they would not be welcomed at the moment. “Things didn't go how you'd planned for them to go tonight, did they?” Fluttershy asked delicately.

        “Hey, when do my plans ever go to plan?” replied Twilight, the bed rocking slightly as a bitter laugh filled the room. “Tartarus, you could probably fill an entire book up with all of my crummy, half-baked ideas.”

        “I'm just saying, I know how disheartening it can be when you've put a lot of effort into something and it doesn't go like how you'd expected it.” Fluttershy gave Twilight a sideways glance. “Especially for you.”

        Twilight quickly flipped around, getting her legs enmeshed in the covers as she did so, and looked Fluttershy in the eyes. The moonlight streaming in through the window seemed to give her beryl eyes a soft glow, and she found it difficult to maintain her ire when she gazed into those moist, tender orbs. “What do you mean, especially for me?” she asked faintly.

        Blushing lightly, realising that her words hadn't been the most tactful, the pegasus replied, “Well, I mean, you're so used to making a plan, sticking to it, and then seeing it through to its conclusion. You, uh, you find it bothersome when things-”

        “-When I don't get my own way? Is that what you're trying to say?” Twilight asked, one eyebrow raised along with her hackles. Her jaw tensed. “Twilight Sparkle's just some spoiled little unicorn brat, huh?”

        “That's … not exactly how I'd have put it.” Fluttershy groaned inwardly, feeling like an even bigger idiot – an even bigger failure – than usual. Unbidden, memories of Flight School, of the taunting bullies, came to mind, reminding her of just how useless she actually was. A tiny internal voice said, “See, this is precisely why you should just keep your big, dumb mouth shut.”

        “Oh, Celestia,” the unicorn said, exhaling sharply when she registered the expression of hurt writ large on Fluttershy's moon-bathed face. Feeling like a monster, she reached toward the pegasus, who was on the verge of tears, and put her forelegs around her neck. “Fluttershy, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you like that just now. Yes, I'm annoyed at how things went tonight, but that's absolutely no excuse for my behaviour. Things didn't go how I'd pictured them, I'll admit, but there'll be plenty of other days. I just-”

        Fluttershy felt her ears pricking up in interest as Twilight trailed off. “Just what, Twilight?”

        “Nothing. Forget I said anything, please?”

        “Twilight, if something is bothering you, even if it's something that you think will hurt me to know, you need to tell me. If I've done something wrong-”

        “-You haven't.”

        “Then, what is it?”

        For a few moments, there was only the sound of their breathing; Twilight felt little pricks of moisture bubbling away under her eyelids, and a whole catalogue of words were birthed and destroyed in her throat, preventing her from giving expression to the totally selfish thoughts that filled her mind. “Sometimes, just sometimes, I feel like you take better care of the animals around Equestria than you do of me.”

        “Twilight Sparkle!” Fluttershy said adamantly, her voice laden with shock that the unicorn could even think such a thing of her. “You should know by now that you are the most important animal in the world to me.”

        A peal of musical laughter rang out. “I'm just being silly, aren't I?” Twilight asked, dabbing at her wet face with her hooves.

        “If it helps,” Fluttershy said, consoling her with a gentle smile, “I've felt the exact same way as you have at times.”

        “Oh?”

        Fluttershy nodded, a long strand of pink hair falling over her eyes. “When we first got together and we spent ages talking about our respective foalhoods, the way you used to go on about Princess Celestia kinda gave me the impression that … well, that you had a thing for her.”

        “A thing? For Celestia? Princess Celestia?”

        Again, a nod, and an abashed smile with it into the bargain.

        “That's crazy!”

        “Well, I know that now.” So much of Twilight's life had – and still did, to an extent – revolved around the ruler of Equestria; it had been she who had recognised the unicorn's awesome magical potential, and had arranged for her to study at a special school for those so gifted. From the glowing terms by which she referred to her, from the way that she revered her every word, it was easy to suspect that she might harbour deeper feelings for Princess Celestia beyond their purely mentor/student status. Still, Fluttershy was glad to know that she wasn't the only one capable of feeling jealousy. “But for a time, I was so incredibly envious of her. I wished … I wished that you would talk about me the way you did her before I realised that it was pointless trying to compete with a goddess.”

        “Fluttershy, there is no competition here,” Twilight Sparkle said in an exasperated tone of voice, wondering just how long the pegasus had been holding on to this angst. “As wonderful and as powerful as Princess Celestia is, she is not you, okay?” The unicorn leaned forward and pressed her lips to Fluttershy's nose, causing her to turn a fetching shade of crimson at the gesture. “You're so incredibly beautiful, and sweet, and kind, and smart, and just … you're perfect. Celestia might raise the sun that warms Equestria, but you're the sun that warms my heart.”

3. Pillow Talk

Fluttershy tried to speak, but the words just would not form in her vocal chords; Twilight Sparkle had just paid her the most flattering compliment imaginable, and all she could do in return was feel nervous and trembly. “Twilight, I-”

        “-Shush, it's okay,” replied Twilight, grinning sheepishly and running a hoof affectionately through Fluttershy's mane, enjoying the silken feel of the diaphanous strands. “I probably came on a little bit too strongly there, didn't I?”

        Reaching out timorously, her free wing quivering almost imperceptibly of its own accord, Fluttershy took Twilight's face in her hooves and cupped it gently. She let her forelegs slide around the unicorn's neck and she pulled her close until they were practically nose-to-nose; for a time, they just looked at each other, feeling each other's warm breath tickling against their faces. Finally, emboldened by some deeply hidden well of courage, Fluttershy pressed her lips against Twilight's. It was nothing more than a soft meeting of their muzzles, but it held so much promise for more.

        After a moment or two, Twilight found herself forced to break the embrace purely in order to inhale once more; it amazed her that such a simple thing, nothing more ostentatious than two pairs of lips touching, could send such exhilarating feelings flowing through her. She looked at Fluttershy through half-lidded eyes, and if the way her cheeks had flushed to a bright red – to say nothing of the way that her free wing was juddering – was any indication, then she had enjoyed the kiss just as much. Twilight examined Fluttershy's tremulous wing in more detail, motivated as much by concern as she was by admiration. “Lie on your stomach, Fluttershy,” she said in a quietly commanding voice.

        “Huh? Why?” asked the startled pegasus.

        “Your other wing,” replied Twilight, nudging the trapped appendage with a hoof. “It doesn't look very happy to be stuck down there now, does it?”

        “They're kind of gross at the moment,” Fluttershy said shamefacedly, but Twilight was right. Truth be told, it had been nagging at her for the past few minutes, demanding to be stretched. “I've not had a chance to clean them properly for ages.”

        “I don't mind,” said Twilight, hiding a smile behind her hoof. Fluttershy should have been born an earth pony; she had the deepest understanding of nature out of anypony she'd ever met, she didn't enjoy flying, and she even avoided preening herself just because it just served as a bitter reminder of the fact that she had wings. It was a pity, too, because they were such beautiful things and she should've been proud of them. Proud of their delicacy, elegance and grace.

        “Okay, then.” Fluttershy rolled herself on to her stomach and her concealed wing – which was grudgingly grateful for the fact that it had been released from its prison, sandwiched between the pegasus' body and the mattress – now had the freedom to move around. In fact, it almost slapped Twilight in the face, so eager was it to extend to its full length, but she managed to duck out of its way in time. “Sorry.”

        “That's all right,” Twilight replied with a chuckle. “I'd imagine there are worse things to be hit with than a bundle of feathers and hollow bones.”

        “Goddesses, this is so embarrassing,” said Fluttershy, her muzzle practically burning with shame.

        “Fluttershy, it's only natural, you should know that. Most pegasi don't even care.”

        “I'm not most pegasi,” Fluttershy said grumpily, frowning at Twilight. She knew that not all pegasi were cursed with displaying their arousal through unfolded wings – or they simply had better self-control than she did – but it was a common enough sight throughout Equestria that it went mostly unremarked upon. Having been teased about it during her rough tenure at Flight School, however, Fluttershy still found it to be a source of discomfiture whenever the mood struck her, and it was yet another in the long list of reasons why she wished she could just get rid of the things.

        “True,” Twilight said, moving herself into a sitting position behind Fluttershy and kissing her on the nape of her neck, eliciting a soft chuckle from the pegasus. “You're a lot more adorable than most,” she added with a sly grin, even though she knew that Fluttershy would not be able to see it.

        “Most?” Fluttershy said petulantly, craning her neck to look at Twilight sharply.

        “Joke!” Twilight held her hooves up in mock-surrender, giggling.

        Mollified, Fluttershy couldn't help but press the large primary feather of her left wing against Twilight's nose.

        “That's so cool,” Twilight said enthusiastically, her eyes practically lighting up as she nuzzled against the feather. “I mean, I've seen pegasi use their wings for picking up and holding stuff, but I really didn't know that they were so malleable that you could exert such fine control over them. Why are you laughing?”

        Fluttershy was, indeed, rocking with silent laughter, holding her hooves over her muzzle to prevent from doing so out loud. When she finally stopped, she took a deep breath and said, “It's just so cute when you get all passionate about stuff.”

        Looking at the pegasus through narrowed eyes, Twilight said sarcastically, “Thanks.”

        “Don't be grumpy,” Fluttershy replied, brushing her downy wing against the unicorn's face gently.

        This time, Twilight caught the appendage in her magical grasp, and Fluttershy uttered a gasp of shock at the feeling of the constricting magenta aura surrounding it. It wasn't painful, nor was it even particularly unpleasant for her, just … odd. It felt as though it had been leaned on for too long and had gone numb, minus the pins and needles sensation. Off of her surprised look, Twilight said, “Sorry, but I've always wanted to examine a pegasus' wing up close and personal. Do you mind?”

        Biting her lower lip, Fluttershy replied, “No, I guess not. Just … be gentle.”

        “Of course,” Twilight said tenderly, a studious cast to her face. Keeping the wing in her magical grip, Twilight moved herself a bit closer, not minding the fact that she was getting her lower body tangled up in the covers again as she did so. The room was quiet but for Fluttershy's nervous breathing; absent-mindedly, Twilight reached out with a hoof to brush her glossy, pink tail to try and calm her down. “Are you okay?”

        “Mm-hm,” said Fluttershy. “It just feels strange to, uh, be under the microscope, I suppose.”

        “Should I stop? I don't want to do anything that you're uncomfortable with.”

        For just a moment, the pegasus was tempted to say yes to that question; having ponies look at her had always been her number one fear, and now one was looking very closely at her. But she was also her best friend and now romantic companion. Sooner or later, she would have to get used to Twilight's scrutiny. Fluttershy chose sooner. She also hoped that by allowing Twilight this it would also make up for her dashed plans from earlier. “No … please, go on.”

        Kissing Fluttershy's ear, Twilight said softly into it, “Thank you, I really appreciate the trust that you're showing me.”

        “You're welcome,” replied Fluttershy, trying to put on a brave face despite her misgivings.

4. The Sensitivity of Wings

Twilight knew the principles of wing anatomy from her biology classes in school; when you broke them down to their most basic elements, they were nothing more than an assemblage of hyper-sensitive nerve endings covered by bone, muscle and feathers. They had evolved this way with one purpose in mind: to aid a pegasus pony in high-speed flying by acting as additional sensory organs. Flying at speeds so close to the sound barrier required an awareness of environment that a normal pony brain wasn't equipped to deal with, thus their wings had developed as an early warning system of sorts, and a well-trained pegasus flier such as Rainbow Dash or the members of the Wonderbolts would be capable of making minute corrections quite literally faster than the eye could follow.

        But seeing a set up close was something else entirely; with the tip of her hoof, Twilight traced the delicate network of bones that formed the skeleton, being careful not to apply too much pressure. Even her dainty touch was enough to elicit a soft gasp from Fluttershy, and the unicorn couldn't help but smirk to herself at the sound. Like birds, the bones of pegasi wings were light and hollow making them perfect for flight, but it also meant that they were incredibly fragile, too. She couldn't recount the number of times Rainbow Dash had ended up in A&E because of an accident. The only time they were meant to receive direct physical contact was during preening, and Twilight was aware that this was something that pegasi preferred to do in private.

        She was also aware of the fact that it was uncommon for pegasi to allow somepony else to groom them; whether it was a cultural taboo or simply out of practicality – it wasn't feasible, of course, to have somepony follow you around all day just to tend to your wings – Twilight was less certain. Maybe they felt the same way about it as other ponies did about having somepony else wash their private parts? The unicorn felt a warmth rise up in her chest as she tried to picture Fluttershy doing … that to her. Later, maybe, when we've been going out for a bit longer.

        Finding bits of leaves, dust, dirt and Celestia knows what else mired within the pretty yellow feathers of Fluttershy's wings, Twilight felt an expression of distaste creeping on to her muzzle. Maybe they just didn't like to inconvenience anypony else by subjecting them to all of this detritus? If this was how bad it got after one day without flight, what would it be like with somepony who flew all the time? As she followed the many splintering lines that formed the finespun veins of her wings' circulatory system, their reddish hue diffusing to a pale indigo in the moonlight, Twilight remembered how, as a filly, she'd often wondered what it would be like to have wings.

        Oh, it was possible to do, of course. Anything was possible with magic, after all, but they would not be true wings. She would feel nothing from them as they would be nothing more than artificial constructs that would allow her to fly while offering her none of the sensations associated with flight. Teleportation was nice – much more efficient, anyway – but to soar through the air, unfettered by gravity, must be a wonderful feeling. The rush of air in your mane and feathers as you sped through the skies … Twilight still couldn't quite believe that Fluttershy hated flying as much as she did, but then again the unicorn wasn't the one who'd nearly plummeted straight into the ground as a mere filly. “Too much?” she asked earnestly, a feeling of giddiness swelling in her bosom at the way the pegasus was squirming as her hoof brushed against the plumate inner feathers on the lower part of her wing.

        “No, no, everything's fine,” Fluttershy replied hesitantly, blushing furiously and shifting awkwardly on the bed as she adjusted her tail in order to make sure that everything was properly covered down there. Twilight wasn't slow to notice the manner in which she'd clamped her thighs together either.

        Hearing that apprehension in the pegasus' voice gave Twilight pause and she stopped her gentle massage. Though their relationship was still in its relative infancy, they'd talked a number of times about boundaries: the unicorn knew that Fluttershy was a timid soul, and that she had her issues with intimacy. Twilight felt much the same way herself, and she had no problem with giving Fluttershy as much time as she needed to get comfortable with the idea of proximity. Up until now, the furthest that they had gone was some light kissing and fondling. “I'm being pushy, aren't I?” Twilight said softly. She released the wing from her grasp.

        The sudden return of the weight, slight as it was, caused Fluttershy to grunt. She flexed the appendage experimentally a few times, muttering something about how it felt like it belonged to a stranger. The pegasus turned to face Twilight. “It really was fine,” she said, more insistent this time. “It's just that it's also-” her eyes quickly flashed in the direction of her hindlegs “-very tender.”

        It took Twilight a few moments to understand just exactly what Fluttershy meant, and realisation only fully dawned when the pegasus' hindlegs twitched. “Oh,” she said, a devious smirk creasing her muzzle. “I see.”

        Feeling curious despite herself, Twilight lowered her head to the pegasus' wing, taking it once more in the grip of her magical field – she didn't want Fluttershy to accidentally injure herself by trying to wrench it away when she went to work on it – and pressed her mouth tentatively against the downy fluff on the underside of her wing. A pant of excitement from Fluttershy encouraged her to continue and she allowed her tongue to slip out from between her lips, and she drew a ragged trail of saliva along the length of the ulna. The flavour of her wing was a mixture of the pegasus' own natural earthy tang as well as the innumerable other essences that had gotten lodged in there in the course of her day. Not exactly unpleasant, Twilight reckoned, but hardly a taste explosion either.

        In order to keep from crying out at Twilight's attentions, Fluttershy had buried her face in a pillow, but the unicorn could hear the odd squeak creep out of her muzzle all the same; the feeling in her wing was somewhere between an itch that she longed to scratch and a tickle that permeated the appendage, and it was sending minor tremors surging throughout the rest of her body, too. The same sensitivity that made pegasi such good fliers could also be applied for more carnal purposes, as Twilight was quickly discovering.

        She watched with a detached fascination as Fluttershy's back arched, her spine dripping with sweat, as she repeated the licking action on her humerus; it was interesting to see the pegasus, normally so demure, burning with such energy. It was almost an obscenity.

        Fluttershy's prim moans soon took on a new intensity as Twilight continued her motions, using her long, flexible tongue to trace each of the tiny bones that made up the structure of her wing; the pegasus felt a pressure building up within her, seemingly centred on her pelvis, and she gasped loudly at the sensations flooding through her. “Twilight,” she said, salt water running down her cheeks as unfamiliar but pleasurable feelings waged war against her own staid nature in a battle for supremacy, “you … you need to stop doing that.” Her hindlegs gyrated, getting trapped in the covers, and she could feel her tail swishing back and forth agitatedly, as the spark between her thighs continued to grow until it became fiery in its potency.

        The response that she got was not the one that she had expected; rather than easing up, Twilight attacked her wings with a renewed vigour. She took individual feathers into her mouth, teasing the soft tufts and stretching them out to their limits, before releasing them and moving on to the next one in the sequence. The unicorn could feel her own amorousness increase in response to the writhing pegasus squirming so sensuously underneath her. It was an incongruous image for Twilight, and felt a slight disconnect between what she knew of Fluttershy and what was actually happening between them right now. She'd by lying if she said it wasn't giving her a charge, though, to have the pegasus so completely at her mercy.

        She wondered just how far this would go before Fluttershy's half-hearted protestations – that she hadn't repeated her desire to stop in some time suggested to Twilight that she was just a little bit overwhelmed and not actively disliking what was happening to her – became a genuine desire to stop. There was pushing, then there was pushing, and she didn't want to be responsible for taking Fluttershy into territory that she was not okay with.

        Pushing her doubts aside, she bared her teeth in a provocative leer and tugged at the soft, stretchy flesh where Fluttershy's wing met her body; it was a lot thinner than Twilight had been expecting it to be, and each nip forced squeaks that skirted the border between pain and pleasure from the pegasus, though they were muffled by the pillow that she was practically eating at this stage. The stuffing was soaked through with a mixture of her drool and tears. Twilight's incisors scraped the supple skin, but she took great pains to avoid breaking the sinewy tissue there before dragging her teeth along the gossamer-like primary feathers that demarcated the outer edge of her wing. The pinions were a lot more flimsy than the ones on her underside, Twilight realised, and she supposed that made sense: they didn't deal with as much stress as the others and were mostly just for redirecting the flow of air for take-off and landing.

        Fluttershy squeaked as a deluge of new sensations ebbed and flowed through her body; her wings in particular, usually forgotten by her side until something reminded her of their continued existence, felt as though electricity were coursing through them. Even though Twilight was only tending to one of them, the responses were mirrored in its twin, but her mind was too busy with other matters to give this quirk of pegasus biology much thought. The itch, as she thought of it, suffusing her wings was growing and feeding back into the ever-growing sense of warmth building up in her abdomen.

        Twilight gradually became aware of the change in pitch and tempo of Fluttershy's moans and her ears perked up; her teeth seemed to have found a particularly sensitive spot, if the sudden redness of Fluttershy's chest, neck and muzzle that she witnessed was anything to go by. Her own muzzle became more insistent, teeth, lips and tongue working at the tender flesh until, finally, Fluttershy's beryl eyes became glassy and unfocused.

        Suddenly, an animal howl filled the room and Twilight literally backed away in alarm, almost falling off the bed in the process; she had difficulty believing that the sound was emanating from Fluttershy's throat – muffled partly by the pillow in her mouth – even though she was sitting right next to her while it was happening, and her heart thrummed madly against her ribcage.

        “Oh, Tartarus,” Twilight said, hissing the words out through gritted teeth. The enormity of the last few moments hit her with the force of a thunderbolt. “Fluttershy, are you … are you okay?” For a long moment, the unicorn felt nothing, could do nothing, and if you were to look into her eyes at that moment you would see nothing but dull incomprehension at what had transpired. She did not see Fluttershy's quaking form, nor the cheerful pictures of friends and family on the walls, but her attention had been transfixed by some distant point on the horizon. Her mind had gone swimmy and numb as she tried to process what had just happened between the two of them.

        The strangled half-sobs, the shivering pegasus next to her making those noises, didn't belong to any sort of reality that Twilight Sparkle was familiar with. “Fluttershy …?”

        When the crying didn't quite stop, Twilight's addled mind finally managed to come somewhat to grips with the situation and she placed a comforting hoof on the pegasus' withers and stroked her back gingerly. Leaning in close to her muzzle, the unicorn's concerned eyes could only see a mask of pink hair, snot and tears. It was difficult to believe that this reticent creature, whimpering quietly into a pillow, was actually older than her by a couple of years. Moving slowly so as not to startle her, Twilight brushed Fluttershy's mane back until she could see her face again. She was bright red, gasping and panting, and Twilight felt a pang of regret for what she had just done to her. “Are you okay?” Twilight asked again.

        Still no answer.

        Twilight nudged her hoof against Fluttershy's back to try and rouse her, but it had no effect; Fluttershy's eyes were fixed firmly forwards, and she seemed to be having some difficult in catching her breath. Her wings continued to flutter, though they had slowed somewhat, and she still had her legs pressed together.

        “I'm so sorry. I let things go too far.” Twilight bit the inside of her cheek, uncaring even when the taste of blood filled her mouth, hoping to stave off another bout of lassitude that threatened to overwhelm her. All of those long talks they'd had, all of those promises to let things develop in their own time, all of those reassurances that they would take things nice and slow until they could well and truly call each other Special Someponies … all of that had been ruined. The notion that her sweet, innocent Fluttershy really was sweet and innocent had never once occurred to Twilight. Yes, she knew that the pegasus was inexperienced, but inexperienced?

        She'd never …

        Not once.

        Twilight felt sick; she'd robbed Fluttershy of something precious, something that she ought to have been able to discover on her own, not have it forced out of her by a stupid unicorn who couldn't read the signs that were right in front of her.

        Long, painful moments of silence – other than their strained breathing – ensued before Fluttershy finally stirred; she rolled on to her back, her wings wrapping protectively around her body. Twilight realised that she was doing what she did best: hiding herself away. Her hooves covered her face, and though she was still flushed and sweaty, mane clinging to her coat in thick rattails, her crying had at least diminished. Her tail continued to swish fitfully, as if trying to work out what to do with itself.

        “Fluttershy?” Twilight eventually asked, not really sure what the right thing to do was.

        “Hm?”

        “Are you … I mean, will you be okay?” Twilight, much as she yearned to, dared not approach the pegasus in her fragile state.

        Taking a deep breath that quickly turned into a yawn, Fluttershy said, “I … I think so. I feel really tired. Is that normal?” She looked up at Twilight with querying eyes.

        Her own eyes wet, Twilight nodded. “Yes, Fluttershy, that's perfectly normal after … what just happened. Why didn't you tell me that you'd never, um, had that sort of experience before?”

        “I was embarrassed,” Fluttershy replied, looking away. “You probably think I'm a total freak now, don't you?”

        “I do not!” Twilight finally traversed the short gap between them and slid her forelegs around the pegasus' waist. “I just wish you'd said something is all. You don't hate me?”

        “No, of course not,” said Fluttershy, returning the hug and feeling a little bit better now that she was in Twilight's hooves once more. “I just … I don't even know. I wish the circumstances had been a little bit different, that I'd had more time to prepare, but I suppose I'm grateful that it's just done and I now know what it feels like. I, um, I suppose I should be thanking you, shouldn't I?”

        “For what?”

        “Isn't that what you're supposed to do when somepony does something nice for you?”

        “What I did wasn't nice, it was … rude.”

        “Shush,” Fluttershy said, a weak smile forming on her lips. Pulling her weary body up a little bit higher, she placed a soft kiss on Twilight's horn.

        The unicorn shuddered, drawing in a sharp intake of breath.

        Fluttershy's eyes narrowed in confusion. “What was that about?”

5. The Magic of Horns

“What was what about?” Twilight asked, shifting self-consciously on the bed as she tried to ignore the sudden sensation of prickly warmth that had spread through from her horn to her forehead when Fluttershy had kissed it.

        “This-” Fluttershy insistently touched her lips to the tip of the unicorn's horn again, eliciting much the same reaction from her “-is what. Why do you … react … like that whenever I touch your horn?”

        “Well,” Twilight's eyes met those of the pegasus and she couldn't help but feel exposed and vulnerable. She sighed softly. “Like your wings, my horn is quite sensitive. Not quite as much, since it wasn't designed to aid unicorns in any way except to provide a focus for our magical powers, but, um, direct stimulation of it can still cause pleasurable feelings due to the number of nerve-endings within it. Most non-unicorns simply assume that it's nothing more than a solid mass of bone or cartilage, but that's not the case.”

        “Oh, I didn't know any of that,” replied Fluttershy attentively, pleased to be learning something new. She was also glad to know that she wasn't a freak, that other ponies had parts of their bodies that could be used for something other than what nature had originally intended for them.

        “Well, it's not exactly something that they teach you in school. Hey, unicorns, whenever you perform a spell you'll experience the most intense thrill imaginable.”

        Fluttershy giggled suddenly, covering her mouth with a hoof.

        “What's so funny?” asked Twilight, narrowing her eyes.

        “I've always wondered why you look so, er, happy whenever you're doing a spell.”

        “Happy?”

        Her muzzle split into a silly grin, but Fluttershy managed to avoid any further spells of laughter. “I suppose ecstatic would be nearer the mark.” Ever since she had known her, the pegasus had just assumed that Twilight's expression of joy had come from the act itself; the unicorn loved magic, almost as much as she loved caring for animals, and there was always a certain delight that came with doing what one was best at. Knowing now that it was also another sort of release for her, too …

        Setting her jaw, trying to fight the blush that threatened to break out across her cheeks, Twilight said grudgingly, “I'll settle for happy.” It was true, though: performing magic – and it was a performance, almost as much an art as it was a science – was the cause of feelings that were eerily similar to those of other, more intimate sorts of activities. She couldn't help but wonder if that was why most unicorns could become bad-tempered and cranky whenever something prevented them from completing a spell, or why they would get frustrated and irritated when they hadn't done any magic in a while.

        At least, that was how Twilight had always felt, anyway.

        “Can I tell you something, Fluttershy?” asked Twilight, her muzzle reddening.

        “Of course. I hope you know that you can tell me anything.” She shot the unicorn a look. “Especially after what's just happened between us.”

        “I do,” Twilight said, taking Fluttershy's hoof in her own and kissing it softly, hoping that the pegasus wouldn't feel any residual guilt or shame about the events of tonight. “At night, when I know that I'm alone and unlikely to be disturbed by anypony, even Spike, I'll sometimes enact a few simple spells just to … well, just to take the edge off.”

        “You poor thing,” Fluttershy said sympathetically, gripping Twilight's hoof in her own. “Do you feel edgy now? After what just went on?”

        “A little,” Twilight said falteringly. “Fluttershy, what are you-?”        

        In-between her first and second statements, Twilight found herself brought back to reality by Fluttershy's lips brushing over the tip of her horn again; she shivered inwardly, her eyes closing just as a soft gasp escaped her muzzle when she felt a tingly surge of energy tickling at the point where the base of her horn met her skull. “Fluttershy?” she asked again, more subdued this time.

        “I was just curious,” Fluttershy said.

        “About what?”

        “Well, you said that it felt good when you performed magic and when your horn was stimulated but … my lips are neither magical nor do they exert that much pressure, so I was wondering how it was that you got pleasure from that?”

        “Although the horn is quite hard,” replied Twilight, stifling a giggle at her choice of words, “as with your wings, there are a significant number of nerve clusters close to the surface. Whenever something touches them, it, um, feels nice.”

        “I see. How about if I do-” Fluttershy allowed the tip of her tongue to press firmly against the base of Twilight's horn, and slowly, her eyes half-lidded, she dragged it across its length, leaving a thin film of saliva on the rough, stiff surface “-this, then?” Surprisingly, the horn didn't taste nearly so weird as she'd been expecting; whether it was because of her arousal or some side-effect of Twilight's magic, though, she couldn't be sure, but while it had an almost shell-like texture, its flavour was rather sweet.

        “Oh, Celestia,” said Twilight, panting agitatedly at the feelings building up in her horn as Fluttershy's tongue flicked daintily at it; the sensation was almost one of a blockage stopping up the plumbing, and like all blockages that had enough pressure applied to them … it would eventually burst. Suddenly all too aware of what was happening, she stood up and backed away a few steps. “That feels so good, but you don't have to do anything-” her babble was silenced by a hoof pressing against her muzzle.

        “It's okay, I want to,” replied Fluttershy, moving slowly toward Twilight, smiling softly at the unicorn. “Don't you want me to?”

        After a moment's hesitation, Twilight finally nodded her assent. She didn't want Fluttershy to do anything that she was not comfortable with, but … she also really, really wanted the pegasus to finish what she had started. Twilight bit her lower lip softly, not able to fight off a slight feeling of selfishness that gripped her. She knew herself well enough to realise that there were times when her rationality would fail her, and this was one of those times.

        As somepony who communed with nature often, Fluttershy was no stranger to courtship and mating practices of every kind; she had heard the rumours and innuendo – and the jokes, too, of course – about unicorn horns, and knowing that they hadn't all been lies was very interesting to her. After what Twilight had done to her, she figured it was only fitting that she repay the … favour. “It might be easier if you sit down against the headboard, though.”

        “Huh? Oh, right, sorry.” It took Twilight a moment to realise that she was still in a standing position on the bed after being startled by Fluttershy's earlier assault on her horn. She sat back down, taking a few quick breaths, trying to settle herself into a supine position against the bulk of the wooden board behind her. “Really, only do this if you want to.”

        “I do want to.” Fluttershy found herself taken aback when she realised she actually meant the words that she was saying. Three months might be a long time, or it might not be, but in this moment she knew that she wanted to make Twilight feel as good as she had made her feel earlier. There's nothing wrong with feeling good, no matter what anypony says. “Just relax, okay?”

        “Okay,” said Twilight, doing her best to do just that whilst shooting Fluttershy a reassuring smile.

        Fluttershy leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on the unicorn's muzzle before raising herself up on her hind legs. “Just let me know if it feels, well, weird or uncomfortable at any point, okay? Obviously, I've never done this before. I don't want to hurt you.”

        “As if you ever could,” Twilight said, placing a series of deft kisses along Fluttershy's chest as she felt the pegasus' hooves brush reassuringly against her shoulders before she placed them on the headboard, using it as a way to prop herself up without having to lean on her; the unicorn was painfully aware of the fact that Fluttershy's warm midsection was directly above her own, but she chose not to comment on this. Doubtless, Fluttershy knew already if the way her cheeks flashed bright red for a moment was any indication. “Comfy?” asked Twilight, hoping to defuse the awkwardness.

        “Mm-hm,” Fluttershy said, giggling and resettling herself so that she was pressing less firmly against Twilight's abdomen. Her long tail covered the unicorn's hindlegs, giving the impression that she was being covered by a thick pink blanket. “You?”

        Twilight nodded.

        “Good.”

        Twilight's eyelids fluttered, half-closing, when she felt Fluttershy's moistened lips wrap around the tip of her horn; the tingling pressure returned to her forehead, and she released a soft moan as the pegasus' mouth enclosed the first third of the protuberance, the tip of her tongue finding and exploring all of the little nooks and crannies of the hard flesh. Fluttershy's mouth soon descended to the little indentation a couple of inches along its length where the horn began to flare out, and Twilight's already ragged breathing came just a little bit quicker. Her hooves scrabbled at the covers, bunching them up. The shallow depressions were where of several of the mostl densely-packed concentrations of nerve-endings could be found, and feeling Fluttershy's lips on them only served to increase the throbbing excitement flowing through her.

        As gently as she could, Fluttershy allowed her teeth to graze against the sensitive cavity until she heard a noise coming from the back of Twilight's throat. “Is it okay?” she asked, concern tempering her desire.

        “Uh-huh,” was all Twilight could say in reply, her own teeth grinding together.

        Fluttershy scraped her incisors from the indented groove to the tip of Twilight's horn, and involuntarily the unicorn bucked her hips upwards against Fluttershy. Startled, the pegasus gave a strangled grunt before Twilight was able to recover her composure. “Sorry, I … sorry.”

        “That's all right,” said Fluttershy, her hoof stroking Twilight's chest tenderly as she favoured her with a smile. “I'm just glad that you're enjoying it so much.” Leaning down, she kissed Twilight on the cheek. “Do you want me to keep going?” she asked sweetly, breathing hotly into the unicorn's ear.

        Feeling that warm, moist air tickle her ear, all Twilight could do was blush furiously and nod, feeling a tremor of excitement surge through her being; this time, she managed to stop herself rocking her hips, however. That particular pleasure would have to wait for another day, much as she might wish it were otherwise.

        Once more wrapping her lips around the tip, Fluttershy swirled her tongue in circles around it, enjoying the sounds of appreciation uttered by Twilight every so often whenever she happened to hit a particularly sensitive spot on the appendage; the unicorn had closed her eyes and leaned back fully on the headboard, letting it support her weight entirely, giving herself completely over to the sensations emanating from her horn. Fluttershy's mouth, she knew, would do all of the work and her purpose now was simply to enjoy the proceedings, and to occasionally voice her gratitude.

        Fluttershy soon increased her speed, bobbing up and down on the horn even quicker than before; the headboard started to bump up against the wall, uttering a squeak of protest as it did so, but neither of them minded this additional noise, even though a little voice at the back of her mind told the pegasus that some of her animal friends might not be quite so keen on being interrupted in the midst of their slumber. Fluttershy suddenly giggled around Twilight's horn when she heard the unicorn trying to utter her name in a passionate frenzy.

        Whatever small part of the appendage she didn't have in her mouth at that moment, Fluttershy pumped it with her hooves; it was interesting to her how the horn was both stiff yet also yielding, able to be manipulated to a degree despite its seeming solidity. She worked the shaft up and down, drawing yet more impassioned sighs from Twilight who, she noticed, was really struggling to contain herself. Curious as to what would happen if she did so, she let her mouth sink to the base of the horn until her teeth were skimming gingerly against the flared base where it met Twilight's head.

        “Oh, Celestia!” Twilight's moan caused Fluttershy's ears to twitch. The most sensitive part of the horn was, of course, the root where it connected to the head; it was where most of the nerve-endings where centred, and a feeling much like the surge before the release of magic was building up within her. It took a supreme effort of will to stop her tongue from lolling out of her mouth, but there was nothing she could do about the deep red colour her flesh had taken on.

        Fluttershy's response was to take the entire horn into her mouth again, but she didn't even stop when it hit the back of her throat; thanks to its thin, pointy tip, the pegasus was able to take the saliva-lubricated appendage into her throat, and Twilight could only listen in mute fascination at the squelchy noises her oesophagus made as she forced the horn down, her tight neck muscles constricting around it and sending another wave of pleasure surging through her.

        Once she'd gotten used to the thickness filling her, Fluttershy was able to move up and down on the horn with considerable speed; Twilight watched, wide-eyed, as her neck bulged out slightly when her horn was taken into it, impressed that the pegasus was able to do so without gagging, even if it wasn't really that big to begin with. The blocked feeling within the centre of her head started to ease and she quickly realised what was coming. “Fluttershy,” she said quickly through gritted teeth, other parts of her body equally desperate for release “you'd better-”

        But the warning came just a half-second too late for the pegasus.

        A spurt of magenta light coruscated out of the tip of her horn, shooting directly into Fluttershy's mouth while Twilight's muzzle expressed a fiery roar; the pegasus coughed and gasped, and the unicorn quickly shot up from her prone position, pushing all other considerations aside as put her hooves behind Fluttershy and started thumping on her back firmly. Thankfully, it only took a moment for her to spit the glowing purple ball back up. Twilight looked at it, while Fluttershy continued to convulse. “Are you okay?” the unicorn asked quietly.

        Once she'd recovered enough from her coughing fit, Fluttershy wiped away the drool that she'd hacked up with a hoof and nodded shrinkingly at Twilight. “Sorry about that.”

        “That's okay,” said Twilight, placing a hoof on Fluttershy's shoulder. “I should've given you more warning.”

        Brushing aside her apology with a wave of her hoof, Fluttershy asked “Is that …? What is that?” Her eyes were held rapt by the floating orb.

        “That-” Twilight took the ball in her hooves and held it up to the pegasus' amazed glance “-is magic. In its raw form, I mean.”

        “Can I touch it?” she asked tentatively.

        “Sure,” said Twilight, offering it to her with a lopsided smile. “It doesn't bite.”

        Fluttershy took the glowing sphere in her hooves and gasped softly as she felt a surge of electricity flow through her. “Whoa.”

        “Yeah,” Twilight said in agreement, giggling softly. It didn't even seem strange to her have, in effect, handed Fluttershy a piece of herself. In fact, it felt … normal. She wondered if that was an indication of something. They'd just shared themselves so intimately, but it was still too soon to say that they were meant to be.

        “What'll happen to it now?” asked Fluttershy, hoofing the orb back to Twilight as if they were playing some bizarre, magic-based version of Pass the Ball.

        “If I don't transmute it into something else, it'll just dissipate into the air after a few moments,” Twilight said, easily slipping into lecture mode despite everything that had gone on. Despite how tired she felt. She had been ready for sleep long before all of this had happened, and the sudden drain in her magical reservoir only served to add to her feelings of lethargy. She was never so exhausted that she couldn't explain how stuff worked, though.

        “Transmute …?”

        Twilight's horn lit up and the glowing orb fizzed in the air for a moment before suddenly taking on the appearance of a bunch of flowers. Flowers with bright purple and yellow petals. She directed them into Fluttershy's outstretched hoofs.

        “They're beautiful,” the pegasus said, leaning forward to kiss Twilight on the cheek. “You're beautiful, and so is your talent.”

        “Thank you,” Twilight replied abashedly, flushing.

        “So. How did I do?” asked Fluttershy, placing the newly-created bunch of flowers on the bedside cabinet.

        “You did amazingly well, Fluttershy,” replied Twilight, wrapping her forelegs around the flushed, sweaty pegasus, a feeling of inexpressible joy flowing through her. “I really didn't expect you to, uh, go all the way, but you did, and it was wonderful.”

        The pegasus bit her lip. “You don't think this, the whole night, I mean, was too much too soon?”

        Twilight shook her head, her violet mane brushing ticklingly against Fluttershy's nose, as she hugged the pegasus even tighter. “No, I don't. I think it was perfect for a first time. We both did only what we were comfortable with doing, right?”

        Fluttershy nodded, leaning into Twilight's embrace and wrapping her own forelegs around the unicorn. “I've never … I mean, I never thought I'd want to do things with anypony, but with you … I really, really wanted to.”

        “I'm glad,” Twilight replied, warm feelings filling her heart. “Sleep now?”

        “Sleep now,” said Fluttershy in agreement, closing her eyes and yawning loudly. The last thing that she felt before falling into a doze was her head being placed gently on the pillow and a pair of lips touching her own. “I love you,” she said, murmuring the words drowsily.

        “I love you, too.”