Recovery

>The flash of a horn, the sting of antibiotics, the scratchy embrace of gauze;
>You are Anon, personal advisor and royal consort to the bringer of dawn and the setter of dusk, Princess Celestia
>And you are in a lot of pain.
>While travelling with her on what should’ve been a rudimentary trip to Yak-Yakistan, your entourage was ambushed by a rogue band of unredeemed changelings that wanted nothing more than to drain you of love and place your head on a pike afterward.
>You guessed that since the princess was nearly untouchable in terms of magical power, they settled for hurting her through you.
>The bastards posed as a group of sick nomadic pegasi down on their luck and played at Celestia’s heartstrings, which got her to land the carriage and offer her assistance.
>You have to admit, it convinced you too for a minute. That is, until the one flying closest to you uncloaked and kicked you in the ribs with the force of a freight train.
>It didn’t help that he was the biggest of the bunch. The hit easily cracked one or two of your ribs and sent you flying into the brush, back first.
>Upon impact, the other changelings kept the guards busy while two of them jumped on you and tried to deal as much damage as possible while they tried to drain you. Biting, kicking, you name it.
>You put up a good fight, but that kick severely limited your combat capabilities. The most that you could do was hold them away from you while they bit and scratched away.
>It all happened in the span of a few seconds, which gave everyone such little time to react.
>You were starting to think one of them would either eventually land a lucky bite and puncture one of your arteries or fully drain you before long.
>That is, until an unreasonably strong magical force blew them off of you with great vigor.
>You knew it was her before your brain could even register the act as a part of reality.
>The other changelings looked at each other and fled on a whim, deep into the forest.
>Free of combatants, the guards formed a sort of tortoise formation around you, magical shields in front as well as overhead, anticipating a second wave that never came.
>One of the inner guards broke formation and pulled a medkit from his pack, ready to treat you while the rest of them shielded you.
>Tia ran up under the formation, beside herself with panic and worry. She laid by you, propping your head up on her luminously white and fluffy coat, while the guard attempted to administer first aid and bandage you up.
>You advised him later, jovially, to brush up on his medical skills.
>Eventually, when the coast was confirmed to be clear, the guards went back to their original positions as your marefriend gently helped you back into the carriage, making sure to avoid contact with your afflicted ribs.
>Which brings you to where you are now; laid up in the seat, head propped up with one of the cushions, while she cleans the stray blood off of you with a wet rag.
>“Mother of me, it’s everywhere…” she trails off, your sticky life essence soaking into the rag with ease.
>Despite the wounds being mostly superficial and shallow, you really had bled quite a bit. Celestia almost became sick at the smell of it when it first hit her.
>You feel the rag leave your arm, leaving behind a moist patch of reddish water as she dips the rag into the bucket once more, wringing it out once she has it sufficiently clean.
>She places it back onto your skin, the soggy thing dripping ice cold water down your exposed skin.
>Gently, almost in a timid manner, she begins rubbing once more, bringing you a semblance of comfort in the midst of the searing pain throughout your upper body.
>“Does that feel alright, sweetie?” she asks you cautiously.
“It’s... really nice, actually. We should do this more often,” you jest, a grin finding its way onto your face for the first time since the attack.
>She giggles, the magically controlled rag shaking a bit to match her slight convulsions.
>“Maybe after you’ve healed, dear,” she agrees, leaning over to give you a peck on your forehead. For a second, you feel the heat of her breath grace your skin before her pursed lips make contact.
>You sigh in relief. Even when you’re in pain, she knows how to take it all away, albeit briefly.
>She pulls away, and for a split second, you catch her lickling her lips discreetly.
>Huh. Ponies and their love of salt, you guess.
>Your attention is diverted when you hear some hoofsteps coming from outside of the carriage.
>Both you and your marefriend direct your gazes to the window, where you catch a glimpse of the head of the detail of guards looking in through the open window.
>“Sturdy Shield and I have finished scouting the area, Your Highness,” she began, stoic as all of the royal guards usually are. “We found a trail that a couple of the changelings left behind, but other than that, the trail and its surroundings are completely clear.”
>“Excellent,” Tia replied, relief apparent in her tone. “Send a letter to Prince Rutherford about what’s happened posthaste. Tell him that the political meeting must be delayed until further notice. We’re heading back to Canterlot immediately.”
>The guard pony salutes before promptly leaving the window, and you hear her bark orders to the rest of her detail as the carriage begins turning around.
>You turn to your worried companion, who is still looking out the window with a contemplative expression on her face.
“You know,” you begin, straining through the throbbing ache in your chest. “I can just be received by Yakistan doctors. I know this summit was important for Equestria, and I don’t want to spoil that.”
>She turns to you, her expression holding.
>“The only one I trust with your wellbeing is Redheart and her associates,” she states cooly, reaching out with her wing to cover you and keep you warm. “Nopony else has had experience with your alien physique.”
>“And don’t worry about the summit, dearest. Prince Rutherford may be brash, but he is very understanding.” She begins to nuzzle your cheek, her eyes closing as she simply takes your essence in.
>You return the gesture, reaching out your free hand and cupping her chin, pressing her delicate muzzle into you as you kiss her cheek gingerly.
“I’m sorry I worried you, Tia,” you apologize, speaking nearly directly into her ear. “I’ll be more vigilant from now on.”
>She pulls back, looking you dead in your eyes. The worry from earlier has returned in full force.
>“I’m the one who should be apologizing, not you,” she counters. “They played me for a fool, and it worked. They used my own good will against me…” Her gaze shifts to some nondescript corner of the carriage, the guilt on her face slowly building.
>”They couldn’t have been working for Chrysalis,” she began, her rambling thoughts threatening to take over. “Every changeling in her hive was redeemed for the better. Maybe there’s a different hive queen, or-”
>You cut her off by taking a gentle, yet firm grip on either side of her muzzle with your hand and bringing her lips to yours, pressing them into hers with tender care.
>She sinks into the kiss, her wing now caressing your face instead of your body. Before long, her tongue seeks entry into your mouth, and you grant it happily.
>She tastes like vanilla as you both explore each other’s mouths vigorously, saliva subtly dripping from both of your mouths as your grip tightens.
>You break the kiss, looking into her eyes with adoration. She’s noticeably blushing, and her wings are slightly ruffled.
“Hey,” you interject, grabbing her attention. “None of this-” you gesture to your beaten and battered body “-is your fault. As for the changelings, whatever it happens to be, we’ll deal with it together, like we always do.” You smile, letting go of her and returning your arm to its side slowly, careful to not upset your wounds.
>You see the worry visibly melt away from her being over the next couple of seconds, her contemplative look replaced with a dreamy gaze, aimed directly at you.
> “I love you, my sunshine,” she cooes. You swear there are faint hearts in her eyes.
“I love you too, kid,” you reply in kind, pulling out the trusty nickname.
>She laughs heartily, raising an eyebrow at you through her giggle fit.
>“Kid?” She inquired, unable to suppress a smile.”Last I checked, I was over a thousand years older than you.”
>You shrug your shoulders, confident in your choice of moniker.
“It just rolls off the tongue,” you explain briefly.
>She raises her eyebrows in response.
>“If you say so…” she begins, a mischievous grin replacing her soft smile.
>“My silly little filly.”
>It’s your turn to laugh, but as soon as you begin, your ribs manically protest. It feels as though someone is trying to pull them out with an ice cream scoop, and your pained yelp conveys this.
>Tia becomes alarmed at your sudden jump, fawning over you.
>“Are you alright? I’m so sorry, dear!” she exclaims, a hoof covering her mouth in surprise.
>You give a meek thumbs up, an awkward smile gracing your expression.
“I’ll be alright,” you say, voice shaky through the receding pain. “Just have to have Redheart work her magic is all.”
>She nods in agreement, her smile returning once more, radiant as the dawn.
> “I agree, dearest,” she says, rubbing your cheek with her wings once more. “Let’s get home and we’ll have her work her magic, alright?”
>As the carriage trudges along slightly before taking off into the sky once more, you can’t help but think that the changelings who ambushed you would never truly have your love
>For all of it, in its entirety, belonged to your sunshine.