Soft Reset - A Novice Chronomancer's Guide to Tempomancy

by Foxvolt

16 - Interpersonal

INTERPERSONAL

“-should keep better track of thine instruments, sister! Begone for a time, we must focus-“

Luna…?

- - - -

”-Take care of this, Twily. I promise.”

… Shiny…?

My head’s swimming, I can’t get a grasp on what’s happening, but I recognize that voice. I’d recognize it anywhere. I force myself to stay awake this time, and I struggle to lift myself upright in an attempt to look around, but something’s covering my eyes and a sturdy hoof presses against my chest, guiding me back to wherever I’m laying.

“Easy there, Twily. Hey, it’s alright, everything’s great, you just need to relax for a little while.”

I don’t have it in me to fight it, and instead I focus on the hoof, reaching a blind foreleg over it and trying to use it to anchor me to the waking realm.

“What’s going on? I was…” I trail off, wading through the haze and muck of my mind, trying desperate to remember. The Princess, Spike, the pain, the spell…

“The spell!” I try again to lurch into a sitting position, panic surging through my head and chest in a jolt of recollection. Shiny keeps me down, though, and I reach a hoof up to my head and start clawing at whatever’s obstructing my vision. It finds purchase on a band of fabric, and before he has a chance to protest I tear it away and there’s a blinding ray of sunlight that beams me in the face for my trouble.

“Augh! Oowwww…” My other hoof leaves Shiny’s and darts up to my face to cover my eyes back up, and in a miscalculation of required force I jab myself in the eye, curling up and clutching at the stinging sensation, hoping if I put pressure on it It’ll ease.

“Twilight, Twilight! Oh, jeez, uh- H-hey, here, let me, uhh…!” There’s a quick ta-ta-ta-ta-ta! of a curtain being flung closed, and once again there’s a familiar presence in front of me as Shiny lays a hoof over my side and pulls me fast against him, coddling me like a foal as I wince and groan for a full minute or two. He doesn’t say anything, but when I'm confident enough to open my eyes again I notice his expression quickly shift from deep concern to a shallow smile. Eventually I feel well enough to sit up (slowly, I get it BBBFF) and study my surroundings more intently. It looks like the medical ward, though the room is decorated in marble and gold rather than stark white.

"I was casting a spell before I lost my concentration, where's Princess Celestia? Was she able to salvage it? Is the castle okay? And what are you doing here, I thought you were with a detachment on the Saddle Arabian border." All these things tumble out of me in quick succession, causing Shiny to laugh gently for a moment before turning serious.

"She's holding Day Court, and everything's fine. Let's just worry about you for a bit, okay?" With that he scoots to the side and nods over his shoulder where Spike stands silent as a statue beside the doorway watching me recover. A few seconds later he steps forward, stepping up on top of something to be level with my bed and placing a hand on my shoulder to pull himself close, leaning his head against me without saying a word.

"Spike, I thought-"

"Princess Luna said it was okay for me to stay a few more days. You Pinkie Promised, remember?" He remarks dryly, but I can tell there's some humor in it. It ebbs the tension like a tide, and I give him a tired smile.

"Yeah, I did. But first-" I lurch forward to pull him over the edge and onto the bed with me, wrapping him up in a big hug. Shiny starts to reprimand me for moving so roughly and starts to complain, but it just serves as an excuse to pull him into it too, and we all have a big family reunion hug.

“When did you get all sappy, Twilight?” Spike asks with a chuckle, and I respond with a gentle knock to the top of his head before we break away from each other. Shiny has his lips locked together like he’s holding back his laughter. I shake my head, smiling.

"It's not sappy, Spike. I just missed you guys." I answer, and I can see both of them blush a little as they try to act cool. Boys. “Okay, maybe a little sappy.”

Shiny, Spike and I catch each other up on the past couple of months since we’ve seen each other. Turns out he’s about as informed on what’s been going on in Ponyville as we are, and he lets us know that Papers was released after Luna cleared him personally. They have Goldfish in custody at a secret holding facility that he can’t disclose, though he coughs in a way that sounds suspiciously like ‘Ohldcastle!’ Which must mean the Castle of the Two Sisters deep in the Everfree, where Luna made her return from her Nightmare with the help if the Elements.

I make an off-hoof comment about not having a headache for the first time all week, and they both get a little quiet and glance at each other. I glance back at each of them and it clicks in my mind that I was coming to Canterlot in the first place so that Princess Luna could undo the damage the amulet did to my brain. They confirm that I did, in fact, undergo major neurosurgery while I was out, though it’s being kept under tight wraps for the time being. Despite my nagging curiosity to know more, I just want to relax in the quiet moment with my brother and Spike, and we put a pin in it for the time being.

Shiny’s in the middle of a story about how he busted a big racketeering ring in Manehatten when I feel myself starting to yawn. He keeps going for a little while and Spike cuddles up beside me somewhere between the part where Chief Backwards forgets his badge and the tramcar incident, and he’s out like a light shortly after. The story teeters off and we both watch him for a little bit.

“Do you and Cadence think you’ll have foals?” I ask absentmindedly. Shiny looks up at me for a second, then grins. "What? Just wondering.”

“Nothing. Yeah, I think so. I’m holding off on the idea for a little while while we get the Crystal Empire situation in order, she’s gonna need her head in the game for that. It’s been rough on her, having all the work on her plate. I’ve actually been thinking of asking for a kind of lateral move, so I can be there to help her.” That catches me by surprise, and he looks at the closed curtain idly as if lost in thought.

“You’d retire as Captain already? But it’s what you always dreamed of, and you just got it!” I protest. Shiny shakes his head.

“No, not retiring. Just… a promotion. To, uh, well, I don't know what I want to call it yet. Maybe a general staff position, I guess. Something where I can still help out around the castle, but maybe focus more on the day-to-day operations. The Crystal Empire retains their autonomy from Equestria, but they’re going to need a lot if help if they’re going to survive the winters without much farmable land, or border security. Wendigo aren't the only threats that far north.“ He gives me a weak forced smile, and it gives me a sense of the huge weight that must be on Cadence’s shoulders, too.

“I didn’t realize it was that volatile, I guess it explains why she hasn't been back since she was appointed. Have the crystal ponies been helpful, at least? Nopony's trying to replace her or anything, right?"

He gives me a bit of a side eye at the negatively-charged question, but shakes his head. "No, everypony's approved of Cadence ever since an old academic named Sunburst dug up an old family tree proving she was a descendant of Princess Amore, back from Old Equestria. I dunno what that has to do with her ability to lead, but hey, that's politics." He rubs his forehead in small circles and scoffs a bit, but it fades quickly. I make a mental note to visit Cadence as soon as I have the free time. Who knows, maybe I can find some way to help while I'm there? If Shiny's even half-right about the workload she's under, I bet she'd appreciate what she can get.

The thought's interrupted by a huge yawn, and it takes a second to realize that one was me, not Spike.

"You sure you don't want anything? You've been under half a day, and it wouldn't kill you to get a few more calories in." He chides, poking at my stomach with a grin. I jerk instinctually away without thinking, and Spike's head rolls off my chest and against the nook of my shoulder. I glare back at Shiny, and he raises both his forehooves in apology. "My bad, toootally forgot you're ticklish there-“ He turns his gaze to the ceiling at an odd angle with a smirk that doesn't at all match the gesture of surrender. 'I forgot' my flank.

"It's fine," is what I say instead. "But if you reeeeally want to make it up to me~" I put on the adorable-little-sister eyes and pout a bit. He deadpans and raises a brow, then sighs.

"Hey, come on, put those away. What're you hungry for: Daffodil sandwich, or pineapple pancakes?" He asks, and I roll my eyes at him. “Daffodil, got it. Hang tight, I’ll be right back.” He turns tail and trots away before I can antagonize him any more.

I smile and lay back against the wooden headboard, reaching a hoof around Spike’s back and across his shoulders as he snoozes. A little jostle and a gentle readjustment from my telekinesis and he’s back against my chest, instead of awkwardly face-planting my shoulder. The bed’s a far cry from my comfy bundle of cotton and stuffing back home, but it definitely beats a hospital. Perks of being important, I guess.

I shake the thought out of my head, keeping my humility in check. Hubris is a slippery slope, after all. And besides, I didn't get the princess to do this for me, so I don't need to feel too special about it… Though I’m definitely glad that she did.

…

‘Pineapples.’

…

Nothing. No blast of pineapple-related trivia, pineapple farming techniques, pineapple import and export taxes or anything else pineapple. Just the empty resonant idea bouncing around in my own mind, and the content silence I’m wading in. No numbing spells, no headache, just my own head with what I’m thinking in it, and nothing else.

I slink lower against the headboard, settling into the small stack of goldleaf-adorned pillows as they raise up to cradle me. With one more content sigh, I close my eyes and fail to suppress the grin growing on my lips. I might have botched the future-seeing spell, but I have everypony on my side to help with Star Swirl, Princess Luna seems to have fixed my head after I misused her device (with good intent!) And Shiny’s on a food run to the kitchen for one of my favorite snacks. There’s more to do, definitely, but I’m pretty confident I can handle things now that the Princesses are receptive to letting me help.

I brush my hoof idly up and down Spike’s back, drifting from thought to thought and relishing the serene moment of stillness.

- - - -

“-meet expectations, Princess?”

I take in a quick breath and reorient my face back to the whiteboard one of my city planners has been drawing on for the last 10 minutes. There’s a lot of red arrows and circles pointing to pictures of potholes and loose pavement in the outer edges of the residential district, though the figures beside his approximations are astronomical.

“I understand and agree with your proposal,” I lie, “only it concerns me that your estimate projects nearly triple the allotted annual budget for both yours and that of Public Safety on this one project.” I raise a gold-clad hoof toward the top-left of the board, where there are at least one too many commas in the expected cost, and tilt my head to prompt him for an explanation. As he opens his mouth to offer one he undoubtedly had prepared, I continue in order to throw him off.

“I have seen and rejected the frivolous proposal by the Gem family for golden-inlaid stonework in the Noble district, I don’t suppose this has any root in such a costly operation?” I keep the polite smile on my face, but the shamelessly underhoofed attempt by the family to sneak their gaudy proposal past both myself and my treasury is quickly wearing my patience thin.

“Uh- I- I don’t believe I’ve signed off on any gold stonework, though I’ll certainly have another through look and return with a more favorable estimate, Princess.” He bows low, and I can see the embarrassment plain as day burning on his face.

I can’t remember his name for the life of me. For most ponies that’s an acceptable, even expected lapse in memory, though not for myself. I’m afforded no social luxury when it comes to statecraft, doing something so callous as asking somepony their name is both an interpersonal faux pas and a political blunder. It affords the other party leverage in the conversation due to a lack of preparation on my behalf. I rarely blunder so, though at this level even minor mistakes often cost the crown in the thousands of bits, let alone image.

“See to it that you do. You are dismissed. Mister Scales, please issue a 400 bit fine to the Gemstone family for minor infractions on anti-trust policy number three.” It’s a paltry sum for their family, but the purpose isn’t for them to pay the fine, it’s a sign that I won’t suffer their antics any longer. I glance to my left where a middle-aged earth pony stallion swiftly racks an abacus left and right, adjusting his glasses and jotting down a few numbers on a long parchment of fines and restitution to be balanced for the week. Nopony uses an abacus anymore, they’ve taken to quill-and-parchment methods in more modern times, but it’s refreshing to see a relic of the past used to such effectiveness even at the highest level.

“Noted, Princess.”

My mind flashes back to Twilight, recovering in the medical wing. I’ve made the accommodations as comfortable as possible, and Spike has been by her side from the moment Luna concluded the renewal. It’s restoration magic we typically don’t use on our subjects, few know we’re capable of healing so potent, though hers is much more powerful.

A flash of contempt crosses my mind as I recall sister’s briefing of events.

‘Perhaps it would be best to restrict access to relics for a time, until she learns more restraint.’ I ponder to myself, but it’s a heavily biased thought. We’re equals, and so it’s not my place to bar her from anything I also maintain access to. Perhaps there’s merit to that line of thought, actually.

“Princess Celestia, that concludes your appointments for the evening. The Astronomer’s Guild still seeks a revised star chart for the Committee of Navigational Pathfinders, and Prince Blueblood has requested a-“

“Tell him that if he wants to start his enterprise, he’ll need to fill out the required paperwork and article DI-13 like everypony else.” I cut off the familiar message. My nephew is many things, graceful in his approach for favors is not one of them. He wishes to try his hand at running a business, though he requests the startup capital from the crown, and in public forum. It’s a favor I would be willing to afford him privately if he’d displayed any promise or benefit to the city with it, but when I inquired the goal he merely shrugged and retorted that he ‘thought it might be an entertaining venture.’

“Of course, Princess.” The secretary replies, bowing low and trotting out the huge double doors to the throne room, the two guards stationed there closing them behind him. With them gone, it’s just myself and a hoof-full of my day-to-day aides and assistants. One or two of them are still jotting notes or doing idle work, trying their best to display their work ethic while in my presence.

“That will be all for today, everypony. I have personal matters to attend to, though I will be available if my guidance is needed. Enjoy your night, everypony.” I nod left and right at them, and a few nod back, others do a relaxed half-salute, and one bows. I indulge the formality for about half a minute before I stand up, craning my neck and arching my back after a long day of delegation and statesmareship. I want to roll my shoulders and pop my back, but that far surpasses the threshold of ‘acceptable’ and into ‘Goddesses don’t use the bathroom’ levels of casuality.

It’s a difficult and delicate dichotomy to be seen as both an immutable perfect being of infinite wisdom, and as a compassionate and understanding pony just like them, but I manage. The dirty little secret is that I’m neither. Nor is sister for that matter, though she displays such an open compassion that most ponies see her as a subordinate to myself rather than the second diarch she rightfully is. Maybe together we might come close to what the public sees me as, though barely.

We’re both ponies just like everypony else. We’re neither omnipotent nor without flaw, though the millennia have worn away some senses such as perspective and the familiarity with certain emotions to a dull edge, blunted by repeated blows from mother death and father time.

I make my way out of the throne room and towards the medical wing. Quickly I’m reminded by my body that I skipped breakfast in my heated argument with Luna over the birth of a new star. I’m resolved to continue anyway, but the thought occurs to me that Twilight may be hungry herself when she wakes. Perhaps a quick detour, then.

I trot a bit more quickly to make up for the time my indecision cost me, and with a few quick turns, jaunts, and polite ‘good morning’s I’m in the dining hall. There’s strangely no serva- Waiters, I mean- present. I take a peek around the room and no other staff nor sister are present either, and I smile at the rare opportunity afforded to me.

I quickly trot to the back of the room and through a nook in the corner into the kitchens, intent on preparing a meal myself for the first time in months. To my surprise, standing opposite me with his horn ablaze is my Captain, a swirl of bread, condiments, and daffodil sorting and applying themselves to each other on the massive stainless steel counter before him. I silently approach and watch as he goes through the motions of making the sandwich, much more fluidly than I’d expect of a military colt.

“I took you more for a hay burger stallion, Shining Armor.” I quip, stepping up beside him and igniting my own horn with a gentle smirk.

“Wuh- Princess!” He exclaims, nearly dropping the ingredients in a pile before he reignites his horn and gently places them down. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Early day for court?”

I make a gentle hoof motion to indicate he can be at ease, and he nods in return, going back to his sandwich, though his ears stay turned my way while he continues.

“I’ve been on a seaweed stock binge, actually. Hay burgers were starting to add some pounds, Cadence mentioned it last time I was by.” He smiles idly at the thought of his wife, a country and two seasons away. I feel for the predicament, even if I can’t exactly empathize in the same way.

“Hmm, expectation are set to be broken, I suppose. And indeed, an early end, though never early enough I’m afraid.” We share a knowing chuckle before going back to our meals. I grab a mixing bowl in my magic, bringing it down in front of me and reaching out to the coolers for a fresh head of lettuce. I set it on the counter and hover a large chopping blade over it, but Shining Armor holds out a hoof.

“May I?” He asks. I’m a bit taken aback by him offering to chop my lettuce, though he’s never seemed the type to do so with intent to offend, and I dismiss my magic so he can pick it up in his.

To my surprise, he doesn’t pick up the knife at all. He weaves a series of thin barriers into the air in a criss-crossing weave of magic, then he uses his hoof to slam the lattice down onto the head of lettuce, and it falls apart into even leafy portions when he dismisses the spell.

“Something I picked up from former Captain Hollowtide.” He notes with a bit of pride. I let the surprise show on my face, nodding my appreciation for the ingenuity.

“Though Captain Hollowtide was a pegasus. How did such a meeting prompt lettuce chopping techniques, if I might ask?”

“He made a bet that his wingblades were still sharper than my barriers, we tested them on old pumpkins his wife was about to turn into compost. I won the bet.” He shoots me another proud grin, but replaces it with his typical demeanor quickly.

“Again if I might be so bold, pray tell what the bet was?” I ask, pausing my salad preparations to give him my full attention.

“Do you remember my appointment to Captain? At least the fun part, I mean.”

I do. Twilight and her friends livened it up much like their first Gala. The impromptu thunderstorm ruined my best no-wash formal gown, thank the heavens. I’d been yearning for an excuse to be rid of it.

“I do. Candidly it’s the second most eventful coronation for the position we’ve had. First if you don’t count diplomatic incidents.” I shoot back a mysterious grin, and he lets out a short, high-pitched whistle and looks away to indicate he would rather remain ignorant.

“Anyway, he said if my barriers could cut better than his rusty old wingblades, he’d let me phone in a favor down the road. If his cut better, I’d pay for his next trip to Las Pegasus.”

I blink at that.

“Were you aware of ex-Captain Hollowtide’s-“

“Gambling streak? Yeah, there were some legendary stories about him floating around the barracks when I was still in training. I wish I could have met him before his wing joints went out, I would‘ve loved to spar him.” I smile at the thought of the former captain of the Royal Guard taking a bet over cutting a pumpkin. It sounds just like him. In his prime, the two would be a relatively even match, though as Shining Armor is now he could likely shell up in his barriers for hours and chip away at any non-unicorn combatant from relative safety, no matter how skilled they were. A good defense is a terrifyingly good offense at times.

“He was a good Captain.” I chuckle. He was actually a sub-par tactician, but he kept morale high and understood how and when to mitigate risk on a battlefield. I suspect that temperament is what lead to the moderate gambling habit he developed even before retirement.

“Mm.” He agrees, though there’s a hint of something a layer deeper.

“You disagree?” I ask, pointedly keeping a neutral tone and adding some croutons to the bowl. And by some I do mean half the bag. Half of the industrial mess-hall-sized bag. Maybe more than half, however much is left in it as I turn it over. Surely it was only half full when I opened it?

He puts on a thoughtful expression, but there’s a line that creases on his forehead as his brows furrow.

“With all due respect to the former Captain, he was well regarded by his peers, but that came at a cost. He was divorced twice, and he looks like he’s been just waiting to die the last half a decade.”

I don’t have an immediate response, and I let the small morsel I was raising to my mouth fall out of my magical grasp and back into the bowl with a sigh. He waits patiently, working on a second sandwich.

“Not all ponies relish life in the same way. When Hollowtide’s wings began to seize from his age, it became clear he would be forced to retire. He loved his work, more so than anything else in life, perhaps his many wives included.” I chew a bit at the inside of my lip. If Shining, or anypony for that matter were to quote me on that, it would likely be an overly-dramatized headline in the papers for weeks. I trust in his discretion, though, and the kitchen remains thankfully empty.

“I don’t want to be Captain Hollowtide.” He says flatly. That gets my attention, and when I look over he’s stopped pretending to focus on his food and instead looks up at me directly.

“I don’t believe you could if you tried, and I mean that in the best way.” I reaffirm, but again he shakes his head.

“I’d like to request a formal transfer, Princess. Head of foreign affairs to the Crystal Empire, or a demotion to S.M.I.L.E.’s Crystal division, if you’d see me fit for it.” He bends his forehooves and lowers his head to the floor in a deep bow, and his horn very nearly scrapes the floor.

“You would relinquish your title as Captain to support Cadence?” I ask, though there’s no surprise in the question. If anything, I’m proud of the stallion standing reverently before me, swallowing his pride and ambition to do what he believes is right. The only trouble presenting itself here is losing a magnificent captain.

“I would, and I want to.” He responds.

“I cannot authorize those requests.” I begin, and his eyes shoot up at mine with a genuine despair before I motion him to remain calm, continuing, “It is not within my authority to do so without first consulting the council of foreign affairs, who would beseech me to deny your request. However, were you to resign and somehow gain citizenship in the Crystal Empire, perhaps by way of… I don’t know, being married to their princess, perhaps? Then it would be a decision of their governing body to which station you were appointed. Were they to then request an agent of their employ to be recommended for relations between our countries? No council nor myself would have the authority to decline.”

He’s still bowing physically, but the more I speak the more dumbstruck he looks. Disappointed, then understanding, then surprised, and now something akin to disbelief. I smile despite myself, feigning a casual disinterest as I layer on a few sliced tomatoes and a diced zucchini for contrast. There’s three hoof-fulls of croutons too many spilling over all the other ingredients as I toss the bowl, and it’s the most appetizing salad I’ve seen in months.

“But if I just left- I couldn’t do that, not to the guard, not to you-“ I silence him with a quick wave of my hoof, and he raises his head, though waits patiently for me to counter.

“And you will not, at least I would hope, until a replacement is named. You will be honorably recognized in your withdrawal and retain a dual citizenship, naturally. The specifics of approaching the brevity of your post you can leave to me, I’ll see to it the media spares you their more ‘creative’ spins on the situation. I will require you to remain for at least the next month, however. And I need your word that you’ll still have good faith in my requests once you’re your own agent.” Hmm. Maybe this one could use some dressing.

Shining nods his head vigorously. “Of course, absolutely! Thank you, Princess!” He bows again, and I wait for him to stand back up before I reach past him with my magic and float over the leftover ingredients from his sandwiches, beginning to prepare one myself.

“And Shining Armor?”

“Yes, Princess?”

I look back and forth between the bowl of Daffodil and the cup of rose petals, contemplating which Twilight would prefer. I recall daffodil sandwiches being far and away her most common meal when she resided in Canterlot, though tastes do change.

“Does Twilight still prefer daffodil, do you happen to know? It’s been a while since we’ve caught up on preferences.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, but I see him cock his head out of the corner of my eye. I turn to look at him, curious, and he has a bemused look on his face, as if something funny or peculiar crossed his mind.

“Bit for your thoughts, Captain?” I press, and the expression softens to a gentle smile as he slides his second sandwich over to me with his hoof.

“Nothing, you just reminded me of a conversation I had with Twily a few minutes ago. That one’s for her, but she’s gonna be out cold when you get there. Spike too, he’s been up all night and day guarding her. Wouldn’t leave for anything.” He waits a few seconds before I nod my silent acknowledgement, contemplating what that conversation might have possibly been, before he bows and turns to go with his own meal.

“Thank you again, Princess.” He calls back at the threshold to the dining hall. Again I nod back to him silently, and he takes the cue to move along and enjoy his evening, leaving me alone in the empty kitchen with my salad, thoughts, and a delicately prepared daffodil sandwich.

- - - -

One of the many advantages of being Princess is that I don’t need to knock before entering any of the facilities. Frankly I could waltz into any room private or not and likely not be reprimanded, though some lines in the sand need to be respected, mutually. By that line of thought, I lift a hoof and very gently tap it against the light oak door, waiting for a response. When none comes, I reach out with my horn and instead of pressing on the handle, I press in directly on the latching mechanism. It’s much quieter, and allows me to juggle the second telekenisis spell in tandem a bit more easily.

I’m holding a salad, sandwich, bag of croutons, and a bowl of gem shavings in my magic. It’s a very particular arrangement of ‘food,’ though anypony who’s worked in the castle since Twilight became my protégé wouldn’t bat an eye.

I gently eek the door open, peering inside to see Spike and Twilight both cuddled up on the large bed, curtains drawn and the sound of one of them snoring loudly permeating the silence. I slip in like a cat thief, stepping out of my regalia and hovering the golden symbols of my authority onto an empty table beside the door. I wouldn’t want to wake them with my shoes tapping against the tile.

I hover the assortment of food over to a nightstand on the side of her bed closest to the door, nudging a lantern to the side to make room for my rather oversized salad.

‘Celestia, you dolt-‘ I curse myself. I just brought a crouton salad with me into a room with a sleeping pony. A crunchy crouton salad, which could likely wake a hibernating drake if eaten within shouting range. My stomach grumbles defiantly, but I shoo the feeling away with my ever-renowned willpower, instead approaching the two and simply observing them for a little while.

I haven’t seen them sleep together in a long time, and it’s oddly nostalgic. At least half a decade, maybe longer. Has it really been so long since she left for Ponyville? Or rather, since I sent her to Ponyville.

Spike’s getting bigger, much bigger. He’s at least a full head taller than I last saw him, though not much to be said for his stature. He’s one of the youngest to be admitted by sister into her honor guard, though even by pony standards he’s only barely an adult. By dragon standards he likely wouldn’t be considered to have reached maturity for a number of years, though we don’t have procedures in place for such things, so he gets to slip under the radar per-se.

I hover a cushion from a stool across the room over to the head of the bed, and I decide to simply wait for them to wake up, watching their chests raise and fall with each breath, their smiles as they find comfort with each other. It brings me some vicarious catharsis from the week’s trials, seeing them so peacefully resting, but also alienated. I lower myself onto the cushion and settle in for the long wait, resting my front half on the bed beside them.

As if by mother’s divine grace, Twilight readjusts in her sleep and her hoof falls from Spike’s back straight onto my face, slapping the bridge of my nose painfully. I strain to contain from shouting out a retaliatory curse, squeezing both hooves against the throbbing point of impact. I glare at her for a few more seconds to confirm that she is, in fact, still asleep before scooting a bit closer to the head of the bed, leaning my front half back over the threshold.

’I wonder what she’s dreaming about, so violent,’ I chuckle internally, considering if I should check myself. It’s not entirely outside of my power. I don’t have the grace of sister to manipulate the dreamscape, but peering into somepony’s consciousness is within the realm of possibility. The notion passes, though, it’s not my place to invade her privacy. Perhaps I’ll ask when she wakes up.

I pause for a moment, turning my head on its’ side, staring at the lone hoof resting out on the open. Hesitantly, I reach out towards it, considering if this, too, was overstepping my bounds. I glance up at the pair, and Twilight shivers gently as she encounters something in her dream, tensing up the slightest bit. The hesitation evaporates, and before I can consider it my hoof is laced over hers.

“You’re safe, Twilight." I mutter to nopony at all. I know it’s happenstance, but she visibly relaxes, the tension leaving her body as she returns to the peaceful sleeping student I saw coming in.

Concern quelled and hoof entwined with my dear student, I lay my head flush with the mattress and resolve to rest my eyes, just for a little while.

Author's Note:

We now return you to your regularly scheduled drama mystery action plotline