Princess Celestia may have earned her "Molestia" nickname, but one pony will have none of it
An unassuming writer and librarian is surprised to learn his presence is required in the Royal Palace. Little does he know that further surprises are in store for him, courtesy of a pair of mischievous sisters who don't seem to be able to get along...
It was the eve of the Fall Equinox festival, and Canterlot's palace square was densely packed with excited ponies. Normally the Fall Equinox was a much more subdued affair than the matching spring celebrations, because of the cold. This year was different. Every pony for miles around wanted to see the royal blessing, because for the first time in a thousand years the festival would take its original form of a ceremonial passage of power between Princess Celestia and her sister, Princess Luna.
Of course, most ponies didn't care much about the symbolism of winter and summer being a macrocosm of night and day. They just wanted a chance to see their new co-ruler, who until so recently was just a monster of legend.
Duskwind cared, however. He had even written a short article on the subject of the Equinox Festival from antiquity to the present day. Nopony had published it yet, but he had used his position at the Canterlot public library to get a couple of self-published copies put into circulation. Maybe someone would even check one of them out some day.
In any other world the violet librarian might have been cynical about royalty, but there had always been something about Celestia that made him feel like she really cared about each and every pony over whom she ruled. Duskwind was intensely curious to find out if Princess Luna would be the same. He was even taking notes, hoping there might be the makings of another essay in this.
At least, he was trying to take notes. The square was so crowded that he had been forced to resort to levitating his quill and scroll above his head, and craning his head up at an unpleasant angle to see what he was writing.
As the speeches and invocations of the Princesses began on a balcony high above the square, an angry voice came from behind him.
“Put that damn thing away! I can't see! Damned unicorns think you can do whatever you want.”
Without turning to see who had spoken, Duskwind sighed and let quill and scroll drop to the ground. He would just have to remember the speeches and transcribe them later, he decided, and satisfied himself with watching the princesses. The speeches were everything he had hoped and more. As the princess of the day cast her eyes over the massed crowd, he felt like she took the time to look right at him. Of course, that was silly, but it only went to show how good she was at making all of Equestria feel loved.
When all of the oration, displays of magic, and general pomp and circumstance were finished, the crowd began to file out of the square. Most ponies were eager to get to the markets and taverns where smaller-scale but more accesible festivities would be starting any minute. For his part, Duskwind was far more interested in getting home to begin his written analysis of the ceremony. He was so deeply engrossed in thought that he ran headfirst into two large guard ponies who had stepped into his path to block him, and fell backwards onto his rump.
He looked up at the imposing bulk of the two white armored stallions, and squeaked out a choked, “Uh... I'm sorry.”
One said, “Please come with us, sir.”
The other said, “We have orders to take you into the palace.”
Both looked at him slightly disdainfully.
Duskwind darted his eyes from side to side, shakily climbing back onto his hooves. “Why? Did I do something?” he asked as the two guards flanked him and led him from the square, “What did I do? Was it because I stared at the princess too much? I'm sorry!” Pinned between the imposing bulk of the two stallions he had no choice but to walk with them through a dark stone doorway and into the palace proper.
“I'm sorry sir,” one said, “We were just given orders to bring you in. We weren't told why.”
Growing increasingly frantic, the normally quiet unicorn began to ramble with rising volume and pitch. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean any disrespect! I thought the whole point was for everyone to look at her! Please don't lock me up! I didn't mean to stare, I DIDN'T MEAN TO STARE!”
By this time they had arrived in a room with a desk, lit only by torchlight. One of the guards saluted the fussy looking pegasus at the desk, and said, “Here he is, as requested.” Some papers were signed and passed back and forth. Duskwind was only dimly aware of this, as he paced back and forth across the small room, muttering apologies and guesses as to his crime, to nopony in particular.
“Ahem.” The polite cough broke him out of his trance. He looked up to see the pegasus gesturing down a hallway with a hoof. “This way, sir, if you would be so good.” Duskwind was beyond protesting at this point, and meekly began to walk in the direction indicated. The other pony walked next to him, not saying a word.
Several increasingly fancy offices, functionaries, and hallways later he found himself facing a large imposing oak door inlaid with gold. The finely attired and immaculately groomed unicorn mare who had been his most recent escort pulled a velvet rope next to the door that produced a soft chime from inside the room. Then with a glow of magic from her horn, she opened the enormous door, bowed at Duskwind, and silently gestured at the doorway with a hoof.
Duskwind had no idea what to make of this. This clearly wasn't the entrance to a dungeon. Quite the opposite, in fact. As he stepped through the doorway and heard the door swing closed behind him, he took in walls hung with elaborate tapestries, plush rugs, blazing fireplaces on both ends of the room, and a table laden with food, drink and finely worked candle holders.
“H-hello?”
There was no response, so after a few moments he walked skittishly to the table, sat down in a high-backed and surprisingly uncomfortable chair, and waited. After a few minutes, boredom got the better of him and he levitated a tomato off of the spread of food on the table. The food seemed to be there to be eaten, he figured, so why not?
He jumped in surprise, sending the tomato flying and nearly knocking his chair backwards when he heard a silky, graceful voice from just behind him, so close he could feel breath on his ear. “Hello, my little pony. I'm glad you could join me.”
He didn't have to see to know who was speaking. There was no mistaking that voice that he had heard so many times giving proclamations and addressing crowds. The cowering pony slowly turned around in his chair and met the gaze of Princess Celstia. Duskwind had always thought his monarch was beautiful, but now that the huge white alicorn was towering over him, her faintly glowing polychromatic hair waving gently in a breeze that was not actually there, she was terrifying.
His mouth was dry and he could barely breathe, and when he finally found his voice it came out in a squeak as he said “I'm sorry that I stared. I'm so, so sorry, I won't ever do it again...”
She regarded him for a moment in confusion before throwing her head back with a soft laugh and saying “Oh no, my loyal but silly subject. You're not in any trouble. I saw you in the crowd and you caught my eye. I thought you might want to...” she paused, clearly pretending to search for the right words, “spend some time with me. Are you hungry?”
Duskwind looked at his hooves and silently shook his head. He was relieved, but no less terrified. How does a pony talk to a princess and a living demigod?
Celestia chuckled and fluttered her wings slightly in amusement as she slowly paced around the table, regarding him with an affectionate gaze. Her gold clad hooves made no sound on the soft rugs.
“In that case, my little pony, we can skip the meal. Why don't you stand by the fireplace so I can get a good look at you?”
He slid off of his chair and obediently walked where he had been told to, keeping his eyes downcast except for furtive glances at her. “Yes, your Majesty.”
With another soft laugh and a flutter of wings, the princess responded “Oh dear, oh dear, so very polite. I'm flattered.” She paced around him, holding her head high with regal poise, but something in her eyes flared with mischief. “Yes,” she went on after slowly circling around him several times, “You'll do nicely, though you'll need a bit of help, my little pony, unless we want to use a stepladder.”
For a moment the unicorn forgot to be terrified and just blinked in incomprehension. “St...stepladder? Why would...”
Before he could finish, Celestia's horn glowed and her eyes narrowed in concentration. A tingling sensation filled Duskwind's body, and then turned to pain. The world shifted around him, seeming to shrink. His entire body pulsed with strange sensations and finally he became aware of what was happening. He was growing! His body swelled, his legs stretched, and his horn grew longer and sharper. What began as dull ache in his back exploded into pain for a moment and a pair of wings unfurled from his body. He would have flailed in terror (or perhaps collapsed), but the princess' spell held him immobile until his transformation was complete.
“There,” she said just a touch breathlessly as she released him from the magic that had surrounded and permeated him. Through her white coat her face seemed slightly flushed, and her pupils were enormous as she stared at the transformed Duskwind admiringly. “You took that well. Congratulations, my loyal subject,” she said, filling the word “loyal” full of weight that Duskwind was struggling to make sense of, “you will be an alicorn, like me, for a little while. Go ahead, look.” She gestured a hoof towards a gilt framed full length mirror attached to one wall.
The newly minted alicorn gingerly stepped closer to the mirror and reared up in surprise when he saw himself, hardly noticing that he knocked a vase off of a pedestal with a flap of his enormous wings. Wings! He really was an alicorn, just like Celestia! The mirror showed that he was still recognizably himself. His face was larger, but still looked like his own. His coat was the same violet color, and his crescent moon and book cutie mark was unchanged.
He turned to the beaming princess and looked at her in wonder. Not up at her, but actually slightly downwards. She had stepped closer to him while he stared at himself in the mirror, and he was apparently just slightly taller than her.
“How...” he gasped, “...how long?”
“About twelve hours,” she purred, batting her eyelashes and stepping closer to him, “Long enough.”
He flapped his unfamiliar wings and his eyes widened as realization finally dawned on him. Looking into her piercing gaze which was now only inches away, he whispered, “Long enough... for what?”
The snowy white goddess didn't respond for a moment, and simply stepped closer to Duskwind, her wings flared. She softly nuzzled his cheek and brought her lips to his ear. Her lips and breath were hot against his skin as she whispered, “What do you think, my big pony? You won't need a stepladder now...”
He would never admit it in a thousand years, but Duskwind had dreamed of moments like this many times before, after seeing his princess from a distance. Somehow, being seduced by an aggressive god-princess was not, in reality, the exciting fun time he had thought it might be. Instead, it was terrifying. His world had been turned upside down. He had feared for his freedom, and now he had been violated, changed into some sort of toy for her amusement. He felt helpless. He felt trapped. He stood, frozen with rage and terror for several long moments as her hot cheek and breath warmed his face.
Then the trance broke. Something snapped inside him, and he did the only thing he could think to do. He ran.
A single flap of his wings propelled him over the table and to the door. Without even thinking, he kicked it entirely off of its hinges, which he could never have done with his normal body. The frightened would be seducee's hooves drew sparks from the stone floor as he bolted along the passage, taking turns at random.
After some time he regained some control over himself and slowed, still fleeing but able to think about what he was doing. There was no way he could get out of the palace looking like this, he realized. He had to get out of sight. He didn't hear any sounds of pursuit, but that could just mean that those who he knew must be looking for him were being slow and systematic.
Since he had no idea where he was, he picked a door at random that looked small enough that it obviously didn't lead into a ballroom or something similar. It felt like it may have been locked, but the strength that this strange form afforded him flung it open with only a quick groan and snap of protest from the door latch. Once on the other side he closed it as quietly as he could manage and slid onto his rump with his back against the abused door, eyes closed and panting.
He had only a moment to try to regain his composure, however, because a loud, booming voice assaulted him from inside the room.
“WHO DARES TO INTRUDE UPON...”
The voice halted in mid sentence with a sigh. The same speaker continued in a more conversational, even sympathetic tone. “Oh... we see. Shall we assume that thou'rt one of our sister's playthings... I beg your pardon, I mean courtesans.”
Hardly believing that this day could have gotten any worse, Duskwind opened his eyes. Sure enough, none other than Princess Luna, the darker and slightly smaller moon to her royal sister's sun, was the one addressing him.
He blinked in confusion, because other than that fact, nothing about the scene before him matched the expectations he had formed in the few moments when his eyes were shut tight with fear. They were in a comfortable but modest looking suite, plush but hardly royal in appointment. Rather than towering over him with a horn burning fiercely with magic that would surely smite him on the spot, the midnight blue alicorn lay on a finely made but well worn and comfortable looking sofa with a book resting between her front hooves. Her horn was indeed glowing, but only faintly, as her magic levitated a half empty glass of wine. And finally, rather than silvery and regal hipposandals on her hooves, Equestria's second god-princess wore four much-abused battered pink fuzzy slippers.
After taking all of this in for several moments, Duskwind forgot his terror entirely. This felt somehow even more surreal and strange than what had happened to him just previously. He found his voice more quickly than he had expected and politely but not grovelingly said, “I... yes, I suppose I am. I'm so sorry for intruding. I had no idea this door led to your chambers. I was just trying to get away. I'll go right away.” Remembering that fuzzy slippers and comfy sofa or not, he was still addressing the co-ruler of his home kingdom, he added a quick, “Your Majesty,” and bowed his head.
As he carefully pulled himself onto his hooves, still uncertain on his recently elongated legs, she rolled her eyes slightly and sighed, gesturing to another old sofa facing hers. She gestured towards it with one slippered hoof. “Trouble thyself not. Sit, please,” she said wryly, her words formal and archaic, but her tone sympathetic and gentle, “This manner of thing was oft her wont in the days before our exile, and we are scarcely surprised that she still...'honours' a few subjects in this manner. Though I must say that most have not fled, and none have ever sought sanctuary with us. Thou may bide thy time as well here as in any other place. Thy company is welcome, and none shall dare search our royal chambers for you.”
He hesitated a moment, but since nothing else seemed sensible, he did as she asked and sat awkwardly on the old sofa.
After a moment's thought she added. “How rude of us to forget... Have a drink.”
While she spoke, the dark princess's magic retrieved another glass from a shelf and filled it from her open wine bottle. She passed it to him, and he took it with his own levitation spell.
He took a sip, and closed his eyes for several long, slow breaths. Another sip helped calm him further. The wine really was quite excellent. He sat for a moment, composing his thoughts before opening his eyes and asking, “She does this a lot, then, your Majesty?”
Princess Luna sipped her own wine and regarded him over her glass. “Aye, that she does. Please, thou needn't be so formal. Since thou art apparently our sister's royal flavour of the month, thou'rt for the moment a member of the royal household. Pray, simply call us 'Luna'. That is far less of a liberty than what our sister had in mind.”
“Yes, your...er, Luna. Thank you.” he said and drained his glass without thinking. She levitated the bottle over to him and refilled his glass, as well as her own.
“Thou'rt most welcome, surely. So... since we shall be here for some time, speak to us of thyself. May we venture to guess that you were were purple before you were enchanted? And perchance a unicorn as well? She did always have a...thing for purple unicorns.”
“Yes, I was, your ma... your Luna...err... Luna. I'm a librarian at one of the Canterlot University branch libraries, near the edge of the city. I just came to the palace to see the invocation. I was going to write an essay about your involvement now that you are... back, begging your pardon.” He was unsure if he should have mentioned that last, and covered his barbarament with another swallow of wine.
“Hello, truly? A librarian as well? We are deeply unsurprised. Pray, tell me more. I shall summon a porter for more wine from the cellar.” A glow of her telekinesis pulled a silk rope on one wall several times, and she looked at him expectantly until he continued.
Princess Luna seemed to be so genuinely pleased by the company that Duskwind kept forgetting he was talking to divine royalty. She opened up as well, and as hours disappeared into the past and several more bottles disappeared down their throats, she opened up as well. They swapped stories and laughed (and once or twice cried) until the very small hours. Between the wine and exhaustion after the evening's terror, the night and early morning became a pleasant blur for him.
- - -
The sun was high in the sky when Duskwind awoke in an unfamiliar bed. He didn't know where he was, and didn't remember going to bed. Sleepy confusion gave way to rising panic as yesterday's events began to emerge out of the fog in his mind. Surely all of that must have been a dream!
He sat up in bed and looked at his hooves. He touched his horn and his back. With a sigh of relief he knew that his body was once again his own.
Looking around the room, more of the night gradually came back to him. He remembered fleeing accidentally to Princess Luna's chambers. He remembered wine, and talking and laughter, jokes about stepladders, and... and what? The rest was a haze. Had he stayed in a guest room? The bed he sat in was large. The room was too unkempt for a guest room. There were half open drawers in the dresser, brushes and bottles sitting on a vanity table, and... the details of the room started to sink in. A set of fuzzy pink slippers lay in a pile on the floor next to a small pile of silver hipposandals in need of a polish. Several black tiaras and a metal collar emblazoned with a moon hung from hooks on the door.
Was he...? Had he...? But that was impossible. Fighting down the rising panic, he looked about for anything that could explain why he appeared to be in Princess Luna's bed.
His eyes landed on a folded note on the bedside table, with his name written on it in elegant letters. He levitated it to him and hastily opened it, shaking with fear and confusion. It was in the same elegant writing, and read:
”My dearest Duskwind, we are sorry to leave only a note for thee, but we must rise early this morn whilst thou slumberest . Worry not about our sister; we shall ensure that she knows we have laid claim to thee. We had a marvelous time, and most dearly wish to see thee again soon, with thine own visage rather than a transformed one. If thou will provide thy presence, we will provide libations... and a stepladder.”
The letter was signed with a crescent moon.
“Sweet Cel...” he started to whisper as he let the note drop, then corrected himself. “Sweet Luna, what have I gotten myself into?” After a moment, he realized that he had answered his own question. “Sweet Luna” was precisely what he had gotten himself into.
The sound of his frantic half mad laughter rang off of stone walls across an entire wing of the palace.
This story is essentially a “deleted scene” from “Princesses and Stepladders”. An unrated director's cut (author's cut?) extra, if you will.
A couple of readers have asked for more... details on what transpired in the part of the night that Duskwind was unable to remember in the morning. In particular, I was asked to be... a bit more explicit than I had been. I've never written that sort of thing before, except about humans, but I figured that I would take a shot at it. I'm not entirely certain how I feel about it, but since a couple of people wanted to read it, and the whole purpose of writing things is so people can enjoy them, I figured I'd give it a shot. Feedback is always welcome.
I decided on the “deleted scene” format as a way to have my cake and eat it too: People that want something more saucy can read it, without it ruining the enjoyment of the story for people who dislike that sort of thing.
This is a bit explicit, and is for mature audiences only. If sexual relations between consenting non-human people offends you, you have only yourself to blame for reading this.
- - -
It was true what they said, apparently: drink really was a great social equalizer. Neither the princess nor her unexpected guest would have had any trouble walking anywhere on their own four hooves, but it was well after midnight and both ponies had been consuming a slow but steady stream of wine for some hours.
To their mutual surprise, over a millennia of difference in their ages did not stop the two from having a lot in common. Many of the Princess Luna’s stories about growing up over a thousand years ago could almost have happened in Duskwind’s own life. Even her archaic language wasn’t much of a barrier, because the bookish librarian had read many books that were as old or even older than the midnight coloured alicorn. He didn’t say anything about it, because he didn’t want to embarrass her, and truth be told, he thought it was kind of cute.
Once he realized this, the strangeness of the situation rushed back to the forefront of his mind. He was laughing at the co-ruler of his homeland telling a story of a hilariously botched assassination attempt that happened twelve hundred years ago (not, incidentally, one of the stories he could relate to) while thinking that the story teller was “cute”.
When she had finished he refilled his glass and leaned back against the soft but threadbare cushions of his couch, and said with a grin, “You know, you've been through so much, but for me today has been the strangest day in my entire life, even though for you it’s just Tuesday. I was kidnapped by a beautiful but terrifying princess who tried to decide me, and now I’m swapping stories and drinking excellent wine in an even more beautiful princess’ private rooms.” The sudden realization of what he had just said hit him like a slap to the face, and he visibly winced. “That is... well it sounds bad when I say it like that. Well not 'bad', I mean it's a good thing... I keep expecting to wake up from a bizarre dream, but here we are.”
For one heart-stopping moment he worried that he might have overstepped himself, because she fixed him with a surprised gaze. It was hard to tell, but it seemed that her cheeks had coloured just a bit. Then she looked down into her glass and let her ears droop, looking surprisingly meek. “Dost...” she started to say, pausing for a moment with unexpected hesitation, “Dost thou truly find us... beautiful?”
He struggled for a moment to figure out what to even say to a question like that. “Luna... Princess Luna,” he said, deliberately using the honorific that she had so graciously allowed him to dispense with, hoping it would. “Everyone in Equestria thinks that you and your sister are among the most, if not the most beautiful mares alive.” He looked into his glass to avoid her eyes. “I, I mean, begging your pardon, I'm not trying to hit on you. It's just... they make paintings, and statues of you. The poet Silverquill even wrote an entire sonnet cycle basically just about you being pretty... though admittedly what he wrote said a lot about your eyes and mane and nothing about your flanks.” He winced again. That last part was clearly the wine talking. He normally wouldn’t say that sort of thing to any mare, much less a demi-goddess. “I mean, of course he didn't, because poets don't write like that. Well, I guess Nudge Nuge did write like that.” His cheeks grew hot as he dug himself deeper. “I mean, I've heard he did. I obvously haven't read any.. er... much of his stuff.”
She looked up from her glass and gazed into his eyes almost unblinkingly, a shy smile on her face, and waited patiently for him to stop rambling. “That is so... but though our subjects talk about us like that often, almost never does anypony tell us that to our face, unless they are flattering us because they want something. Even before our coup and exile, but especially now that we have returned and are still feared.”
What could he say? He was hardly a smooth talker at the best of times, but Duskwind knew enough about mares (and ponies in general), to know what she wanted to hear. Conveniently enough, what she wanted to hear was also true. He swallowed nervously and said what he had been thinking for hours. “I can’t do any better than Silverquill. I’m much better at reading words than saying them... but even if you weren’t a princess and an alicorn, you are so... well, if I met you on the street, you would take my breath away. I’d never in a thousand years be able to talk to you.”
She beamed at him and her momentary shyness melted away. “Thou art kind and sweet. And thou'rt so unlike those petitioners in court, flattering us to gain favours.” She stood up and slowly walked from the sofa she had occupied for the entire evening and towards where he sat. She never took her eyes off of him, even when she stumbled slightly and kicked a slipper off of one of her front hooves with a snort of frustration. Something in her expression reminded him slightly, just slightly of how her sister Celestia had looked at him earlier, when she had transformed him into his temporary shape and stature. “Though perhaps, just perhaps thou also desirest something from us?” she said in a silky purr.
His eyes widened and his pulse raced. “I... er... I didn’t mean to take any liberties, Pri... er... Luna.” Was she toying with him, he wondered in sudden terror. Was she about to mete out some terrible punishment for him being too familiar? He stood as still as a statue with his heart in his throat while she sat down heavily and gracelessly next to him with a little giggle. His eyes were pressed tightly shut as he felt her softly nuzzle his cheek. She smelled faintly of cool grass and the perfume of the ground after rain on a spring night, and the scent filled his nostrils as she whispered in his hear. “Be not afraid. Thou hast taken no liberties with us... but perhaps thou ought.”
A small shiver ran across his body as her one slipper clad fore-hoof ran over the other side of his face and down his neck. Panic tightened around his stomach, and for a moment he felt like he might bolt like he had done from Celestia earlier. He didn’t think. He couldn’t think, so he just acted. He pulled his head slightly back from her, and when he saw her welcoming smile, something snapped in his mind... so he kissed her.
He felt dizzy as she kissed him back hungrily and wrapped her front legs around him, pulling him close to her. His mind raced as it struggled to understand that here he sat, lips and tongue entwined with those of a mare out of legend. The mingled taste of frosty winter nights and wine filled his mouth. He couldn't believe this was really happening, but as she kicked another of her fuzzy slippers off and ran her bare hoof along the side of his body and over his flank, there was no way to doubt it. Terror mixed with arousal as he realized that even if he had wanted to refuse her, he wouldn’t dare. As her touch drifted up his thigh and gently over a more intimate area there was no doubt at all that he certainly didn’t want to refuse her, though now he had a new terror: It felt like his body might do the refusing without his consent.
A look of slight disappointment flickered across her face momentarily, followed by a thoughtful expression. She leaned against him, gradually pushing him onto his back until she lay on him, pressing her body against his. It took a moment to unweave the resulting tangle of limbs, her breathing was as fast as his as she looked down at him. He looked into her eyes and admired her, her starry midnight mane tickling his shoulder as it waved in a breeze that had nothing to do with air. Her majestic wings flared and fluttered as his hooves explored her body, and when they reached her rump she gasped, kissed him again eagerly, and pressed her body against his even harder. This would have crushed the breath from him had he been his normal size, but in his magically changed form is simply excited and aroused him more than he could ever remember anything doing.
After long, uncountable moments of bliss she took her lips from his and nipped at his ear playfully. She ground her hips against his almost painfully swollen erection and whispered, “Methinks we are both ready, my dear. Celestia has done us one favour this night other than bringing us together. We most surely shan’t need to fetch a stepladder.” With that she giggled and started to slide off of him, and abruptly stopped. Visibly trying to keep a straight face she whispered, “Darling... you are laying on our mane.”
Once he had muttered an embarrassed apology and shifted his weight slightly, she slid off of him, successfully this time, running her mane and face down the length of his body and rose to her feet, slightly unsteadily.
Even when he was in her arms he hadn’t dared to think of how far this might go. Through the haze of wine and arousal he still had been half fearing that she might have been toying with him. All doubt left him as he took in the sight of her standing before him, bottom raised in the air, looking back over her shoulder at him and biting her lower lip. Out of his mouth unbidden came the words, “You... you are the most beautiful mare in the world.”
She fluttered her wings and laughed, giving him the hint of a pout born of playful impatience. With a little shimmy of her hips she purred, “Then get over here and have thy way with us, thou wild stallion.”
The last of Duskwind’s doubt evaporated in the heat of his desire, and he launched himself off of the soft cushions. After nuzzling and nipping her flanks, he rose on his hind legs and hungrily, almost roughly, mounted her. He landed on her back harder than he meant to, but she was surprisingly strong and only staggered a little bit. They both gasped together as he entered her, and their bodies moved together in the easy rhythm of instinct.
Again, the overwhelming realization of what he was doing and who he was doing it with flooded over him with an ecstatic rush almost as exciting as the act itself. He felt like the hero out of a legend as she squirmed and moaned beneath him. He had obviously never been with an alicorn, but also not even a pegasus before, but because it felt deeply right he nibbled clumsily at the bases of her wings and nuzzled the strong muscle between them. Instinct must have been right, because this made her gasp loudly and push her hips against his with increased fervor.
It...didn’t last long. A belly and head full of wine are not the friend of amorous males anywhere in the universe. But it didn’t have to. Very quickly she began to shiver and whimper with every thrust and moments later she arched her back and cried out in a booming, wordless voice. Wind whipped around them, and every flame from the fireplace to the lanterns flared brightly and then went out as she reached her peak. Overwhelmed by everything he finally let himself go completely, with a much less magical cry of pleasure, and they both sank slowly to their knees and then to the ground in a panting, sweaty heap.
They stayed like that for some time, slowly catching their breath together. Eventually he slid off her her and sat heavily on the floor. She just lay there, her head resting on her hooves, and smiled sleepily at him through a curtain of shining, faintly glowing, and thoroughly rumpled hair mostly obscuring her face.
“Oh, sweet sky and earth,” she murmured, “it has been such a very, very long time. Thank you.”
Duskwind was momentarily gobsmacked. She was thanking him? He wanted to protest, but had enough sense to actually consider his words before speaking. Brushing his mane out of his face he smiled and replied, “Thank you, Luna. I think that this has now become the best night of my life, not just the strangest.”
They both laughed, and she led him off to bed. As he followed her and unashamedly admired her, he stifled a chuckle as he saw that she still wore her fuzzy pink slippers on her hind hooves.
It was good that the wine and the exhaustion carried him off to sleep quickly, because as it turned out, she snored. A lot.
Duskwind stared at the unfurled scroll held in the serious looking Royal Guardspony's teeth, taking a moment to pull the actual content from the royal flourishes. It was written in an irritatingly flowery court scribe's lettering style, with each S looking like an F, and so on.
It read:
Your presence is requested in Canterlot Castle, at the pleasure of Her Majesty, Princess Luna the First, by the Grace of Harmony, Ruler of the Night of Equestria, Mare Noctum, Equestrian Territories Beyond the Seas, and Her Other Realms and Territories, High Duchess of the Isle of Pony, Defender of the Faith, Official Nightmare Night Frightener of Ponyville and Associated Regions.
You will present yourself at the Ambling Gate on the fifth hour after noon on this day, to join Her Grace for refreshments and carousing.
It was signed in a different writing style, We shall see thee then, Dusky. XOXO, Luna, et cetera
Duskwind sighed and thanked the Guardspony, taking the letter with a sigh. He closed his front door and carefully set the scroll in a box with the others. Even though they had been... perhaps “dating” wasn't the right word. Even though he had been a royal consort for almost a month, Princess Luna seemed to be oblivious to some things, like how formal her scribes made everything sound, or how off-putting it was to be summoned on short notice. To top it off, the finely written gold trimmed scrolls were just too nice to throw away.
“But what can I do?” he murmured to himself as he levitated a brush through his mane and tail with a faint glow from his horn. “One doesn't turn down a princess.”
Fortunately, he didn't actually want to turn her down. She seemed to genuinely like him, even if she did offhandedly take him for granted sometimes. She was funny, kind, affectionate, and - there was no escaping it - beautiful. Only one thing troubled him: However well she treated him, in a situation like this it was just not possible to know what, if anything, he actually meant to her. She had never treated him like a toy, but when she tried, in private moments, to treat him like an equal, there was no way for it not to seem like a bit of a sham.
- - -
At five minutes before five o'clock (because the librarian unicorn had always valued being early, because one never knew what might come up), he cantered up to the palace's Ambling Gate, wearing the small silver crescent moon pendant that the princess had given him several weeks ago.
He didn't recognize the guards on duty, but they either recognized him or the pendant, because they opened the iron bound oak door and one escorted him inside. The guard led him down a plush hallway and through several intersections. Duskwind was thoroughly lost, but by now he had gotten used to it and simply followed where he was led.
A thought came to him as he walked through the maze of the palace. “Who could ever believe that being taken to a royal audience could be boring?” He chuckled slightly to himself, but his escort seemed not to notice.
As usual, he was passed off to another functionary, and led into a well appointed sitting room. He wasn't sure he had seen this particular one before; they were all more or less the same.
He sat down and prepared for a wait, but for once Luna was on time. She stepped into the room and his heart fluttered. He sprang to his hooves and grinned at her, all annoyance at the hasty summons forgotten.
The midnight blue princess was a vision, from the gleaming hipposandals on her hooves to her dark and waving star-filled mane. Something about her seemed different, but he couldn't put his hoof on what. Had she styled her mane differently? His slightly panicked guessing was interrupted when she addressed him with a broad smile on her lips and her head held high and proud, “Hello, dear Duskwind. So good of thee to join us.”
He beamed and stuck his chest out, saying “Hello Luna. It's good to see you again so soon. I even wore the necklace you gave me.” He gave it a flick with his hoof to emphasize his point.
She raised an eyebrow at him and he shrank back slightly. “Err, yes. Thank thee very much. We are glad thou wearest our sign. Anyway, we are glad thou art here.”
He trotted up to her, momentarily pushing images of an eager puppy from his mind, and smiled up at her. It was hard to get used to how much bigger she was than him, but he generally tried not to think about that unless he was actually in the process of climbing onto a stepladder.
He bowed theatrically and said to her in his best slightly overwrought Middle Equestrian, his eyes lowered, “I am best pleased to be graced with thy presence. Shall we retire to the gardens for refreshments? A glass of wine, a loaf of bread, and thou?”
To Duskwind's disappointment the princess seemed slightly taken aback, and looked down at him in momentary bemusement. Perhaps, he thought, she didn't like this game of him using archaic speech as much as she had seemed to the last few times.
“Umm,” Luna said with momentary uncertainty, before batting her eyelashes and lowering her face until it was right next to his, her sweet breath warm against his cheek, smelling of ripe wheat and warm, fertile soil. “No... we thought that perhaps we could skip eating this time, and get right to the... dessert.”
A sense of disquiet crept over the unicorn. His lover was not usually this... aggressive. She knew what she wanted, to be sure, but she usually wined and dined him first. And there was something else, creeping at the back of his mind. He shuffled his feet and looked down at her gold clad hooves and said, “Of course, Luna. I only want to please you.”
She nibbled the side of his neck, making him shiver, and whispered, “Of course you do, little pony. Of course you do.”
He closed his eyes and nuzzled her cheek, pleasure and excitement mixing with his increasing sense of unease.
Then it hit him, like a splash of water to the face.
Gold clad hooves.
Luna's hipposandals were gold, not silver. Celestia wore gold.
He pulled his head back slightly and stared into her hungry eyes, quivering in confusion and fear. “L... Princess? Is everything... I mean, you seem...”
He was saved the effort of untangling the situation by a door behind him being thunderously kicked open and a familiar booming voice shouting, “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?”
Luna jumped back from Duskwind in surprise, and the fury of the Royal Canterlot Voice literally knocked him over. He landed on his rump and stared as Princess Luna walked into the room.
The silver-shod Luna who had just entered the room glared at the gold-shod Luna who had just been taking liberties with him, who grinned sheepishly. The former shouted at the latter, “SISTER! WHY MUST THOU DO THINGS LIKE THIS?”
The Luna...well, the one who was, by now, obviously Celestia, tossed her head and replied, “It was just a bit of fun. Why must you be so touchy?”
The real Luna advanced on her slightly larger doppelganger, with her ears folded back. “He is our boyf...consort, and though thou may be the elder sister thou canst not help thyself to whatever and whomever thou wishest.”
Celestia-as-Luna raised a hoof to her chest, looking affronted. “I didn't see him complaining.” He looked at both of them, afraid to speak. She gazed at him through lowered eyelids and tossed her faintly glowing mane before adding, “Maybe he wants to be shared. Hmm? Two princesses? Maybe even two Lunas?” She winked and licked her lips.
Both princesses regarded him expectantly. His mouth dried up, his teeth chattered, and he felt like he could barely breathe. After what seemed like years, he muttered lamely, “Celestia, you are really ni... majestic and wonderful, Your Majesty... but,” he swallowed hard and took a deep breath before continuing, looking meekly at the floor, “I'm really a one-mare kind of pony, begging your forgiveness, Princess.”
“But my dear little pony, we ARE one...” Celestia started to say before she was cut off by a loud and significant cough from her sister.
Celestia-Luna's horn glowed and she shook herself as if she had come out of the rain, and her illusory dark countenance dissolved in a mist around her. The two alicorns glared at each other, their horns crossed, and the real Luna muttered between clenched teeth, “Dearest, pray adjourn to the antechamber.”
Though it was phrased as a request, she clearly had no thought that he might deny her. Duskwind stood and bowed to both princesses. With a deep and slightly shaky bow, he croaked, “Princesses, I beg your leave,” and without waiting for an answer, turned and almost galloped through the door that a guard was already holding open for him. A small part of him marveled at how those ponies always seemed to be where they were needed. The guard followed him and closed the door behind them.
Duskwind sat, fidgeting, in a well appointed reception area, where the guard, a pegasus in gilded armor instead of the gate guard's plain steel, stood with great poise and self importance in front of the large door.
The fretful librarian's ears twitched and he listened to the sound of muffled yelling from beyond the ornate door, but the guard either didn't notice, or was excellent at pretending not to hear things. On reflection, the latter explanation seemed more likely.
After an uncomfortable several minutes of not quite hearing the fracas in the next room, the unicorn snuck a look at the guard, who was staring calmly straight ahead of him, and not at Duskwind. Deciding he could risk it, he summoned up an amplification spell, using it so weakly that he hoped the faint glow of his horn and on his ears would be easy to miss. His eyes closed and he focused on making out the faint voices.
“Why dost thou always do this, sister? This is just like what happened with Flumple before my exile!”
“Please, calm down. Can't you just get another?”
“We like him! He is nice! We do not want another, as thou bloody well knowest!”
“Sure, I guess he is nice, but there are lots of nice ones. I'm sure you can find some other little pony to brush your mane and tell you how pretty you are.”
“Thou merely wantest him him because thou may have him not!”
“Sun and sky, you are the most selfish sister ever! Why can't you just share?”
“DAMN THOU, HE IS OURS!”
“FINE! HAVE IT YOUR WAY!”
The last exchange he could have heard even unamplified, and was followed by the loud stamping of hooves and the slamming of a door that shook the floor.
After a few minute's silence, a tiny bell over the door tinkled and the armoured pegasus looked at Duskwind and said, “I believe the princess will see you now.”
The guard pulled the door open and Duskwind gingerly crept inside. When he entered, he saw Princess Luna, (the real one, he presumed) sitting on a cushion on the floor, looking down despondently. When he approached her she looked up and shot him a momentary glare that nearly made his heart stop. Before he could do more than cringe her face softened, and she patted another cushion next to her with a hoof.
“We beg your pardon. It was not thy fault. Perhaps thou might have noticed if thou had expected such deception... but the fault was not thine.”
Unsure of what to say, he rubbed her back affectionately with a forehoof. She leaned against him slightly and went on, “Ofttimes our sister forgets that anything matters besides what she wants. It is infuriating, but she just cannot be made to understand.”
The princess heaved a sigh and kicked a hoof on the floor petulantly, to Duskwind's surprise and discomfort looking almost like an angry child, for all that she loomed over him. He'd never seen her this upset.
They sat together in silence for several minutes, while he wracked his brain for something to say that might help. Finally he put his foreleg around her waist and smiled at her, saying, “If you're still mad and want to get some of it out...” He lowered his voice conspiratorially and went on, “you could play Nightmare Moon again tonight. I promise to be extra scared...”
“That is not...” she started to say with a bit of ire before she softened and kissed him on the cheek. “We aren't in the mood tonight, Dusky, but many thanks.”
He squeezed her waist and perked his ears up, trying to be as perky and pleasant as possible. It had become clear over the past few weeks that making the night Princess happy was more or less his job, but that didn't mean he didn't also genuinely care. The thing that troubled him was not really knowing how she felt about him. She obviously cared, but did she care about Duskwind, the completely overwhelmed librarian unicorn, or was he just a thing for her to care about, like a living teddy bear? Perhaps it was both, but he was afraid to ask, and unsure if she herself even knew.
With a deep breath he filed his worries away for another time and cheerfully suggested, “Well, dinner then? I'm starved, and the only thing better than palace food is eating it with you. After that I can go home, or stay for a bit of a cuddle.”
He stood up and extended a hoof to her, as if he could somehow actually help a pony twice his size to her feet, but she smiled and took it as she hove herself up.
Grinning down at him, her mood seemingly much lightened, she said “That sounds lovely. Come, we shall dine.”
- - -
She was gone when he woke up, as she usually was. He let himself take his time, waking up slowly as morning light filled the room. It was odd, he thought as he stretched and slothfully flopped about in the huge, plush bed, he was actually glad that “dinner and a bit of a cuddle” was all that last night had been.
Five weeks ago he would have called anyone crazy if they had suggested that he could possibly feel that way in a situation like this, but frankly, the pressure to perform was overwhelming at times. It could feel like that with any mare, of course, but Luna was a princess out of legend, and it was hard to forget that. It also didn't help that since she didn't know her sister's temporary make-an-alicorn spell, he was... built to a different scale than her.
She had never seemed to mind, but that didn't stop him fretting for a single moment.
The rumpled purple unicorn sat up, stretched, retrieved the pendant of his necklace from his mane (where it had gotten tangled as usual), and looked for the note. There was always a note. Even though every Royal Summons was written by a scribe, the morning bedside notes were always penned by Luna herself. Whenever he worried that he might just be playing the part of someone who cared, he remembered that he kept all of the notes. Not really to read them again, but mostly because they smelled like her.
The note began: Fair Dusky, As usual, we must needs arise early, as all of the kingdom's statecraft is still done while the sun shines... for now.
To Duskwind's surprise, Luna had started to write the usual "Your presence is requested..." line, but had crossed it out and written instead:
We would love it if thou wouldst accompany us to a small formal dinner this evening. It is an official function, but formal attire is not required. Thy company would be most nice.
The note was signed with her usual "XOXO" and a crescent moon.
He set the note back on the table and slid out of bed. While brushing his mane and humming softly to himself, his face broke into a grin as realization hit him: He seemed to have the run of the palace, more or less. Perhaps this morning he would see what the Starswirl the Bearded wing of the palace library had to offer in the way of transformation spells...
Duskwind's day spent perusing the palace archives was not fruitful. Transformation spells were few and far between, and the couple that he had found were well beyond his moderate but unremarkable magical skills. He suspected he could manage one that purported to turn beans into peas, but it hardly seemed worth it. In any case, there were none he could find that would make him temporarily an alicorn, or even scale him up to something closer to Princess Luna's dimensions.
He was sitting on the floor, leafing through a book almost as large as he was, when he was startled by a quiet cough from above. A liveried palace page stood over him.
The pale blue earth pony looked down her nose at Duskwind, (in more ways than one) and said, “I have been instructed to find you and tell you that Their Majesties, Princesses Luna and Celestia will be holding their dinner engagement in an hour, and your presence is requested.”
“Oh, right,” Duskwind muttered as he rose to his feet. He began to put scrolls and books back on shelves and in pigeonholes, saying, “Let me just...”
He was interrupted by the page. “These will be seen to. I was instructed to tell you to go and freshen up.”
“Oh, right, I guess I should.” He looked at his reflection in the glass of a window, and he had to admit that he looked a bit rumpled and dusty.
As he walked to the door, the blue page just watched him, not moving to escort him. He had never been that good with ponies, but there seemed to be a note of resentment on her face. He turned this over in his mind as he found his way through the twisting hallways to Luna's suite. “I suppose it makes sense,” he muttered to himself. “They're used to serving actual important people, but I haven't really even done anything; I'm only even here because one princess liked the look of me, and the other wanted to... keep me.”
This thought weighed heavily on his mind as he brushed his coat and mane. He still wasn't sure what his place was, when he wasn't actually in Princess Luna's bed.
He checked himself in a full length mirror, and adjusted his silver moon necklace. Taking a deep breath, he put on his best attempt at a winning smile, and trotted out the door of the suite to find the dining room he'd been told about earlier.
- - -
The small (for the castle) dining room room would have awed him a month ago, with its vaulted ceiling, stained glass windows, and other decorations. To his eyes that were now growing accustomed to the castle, it actually seemed a bit gaudy.
Apparently “fashionably early” was in vogue this year in Canterlot, because to his great embarrassment Duskwind found the round and heavily laden table fully occupied when he arrived, ten minutes before the time he had been told the meal started.
Almost fully occupied, rather. The seat to Luna's right was empty. When he coughed quietly in embarrassment and his hooves clopped on the marble floor, the Princess of the Night turned around in her chair and beckoned him with a wave of her hoof and a smile. For just a moment all of the fretful thoughts that had been swirling around in Duskwind's mind, from his place and value, to simply being late despite being early, evaporated. Even though it only took an instant, he saw her face flow from regal seriousness to warm affection. Her mane waved around her shoulders as her head turned, as if in slow motion... though it always did that. As if in a dream, all doubt gone from his mind, he approached the table and sat down, his eyes and hers never leaving each other.
This happy daze lasted only a few seconds. Once he was seated she gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, and turned to continue her conversation with several important looking ponies. A plate of salad was set before him by a quick and efficient waiter, but he ignored it and looked around at his fellow diners. Princess Celestia sat opposite to Luna. Many of the dozen or so other ponies were dressed much better than Duskwind had been led to believe they would be. One even wore a suit jacket and had a monocle in his waistcoat pocket. Despite not normally wearing clothes, the purple unicorn felt oddly naked to be wearing nothing but a necklace.
After only a few moments a pattern became clear. A bit more than half of the diners were involved in animated conversations, sometimes several at once. The remaining ponies mostly looked bored. It was pretty clear who were the invitees, and who were the dates.
As he munched his way through the first course of his meal, he examined the pony to his left. She was a tall, thin white unicorn, with a fleur de lis cutie mark and a vacant expression. Without trying to be too obvious, he watched her for several minutes, and the only things he saw her do were pick at her food, preen her hair a bit, stare vacantly at the windows, and occasionally fuss over the well dressed stallion on her other side. She didn't try to engage Duskwind in conversation, or even acknowledge him.
As he sat in sullen silence, trying and failing to follow any of the conversations going on around him, he felt a growing contempt for the generally pretty mare sitting next to him. When yet another small and overly elaborate course was laid before him (this time some kind of tiny quiches), something clicked in his mind. He looked at “the dates” in their bored silence, sitting next to much more important ponies, discussing matters of state and commerce. Then he looked at Luna, who was clearly one of the latter group, and it hit him like a ton of bricks. Here he was, a librarian and a young scholar of some minor note for his age, and his only purpose here was to sit next to Luna. He wasn't even particularly good looking compared to the other decorative ponies at the table.
He felt even more useless and alone, he reflected to himself while chewing sullenly, because it didn't even feel like he was here with Luna, what with her hardly even looking at him, and speaking in passable modern Equestrian. It still sounded wrong to his ears to hear her speaking in anything but the language that she...
His self-pitying silent tirade was interrupted by something brushing his leg. He jumped slightly and stifled a squeak. A quick, embarrassed glance at the other diners revealed that nopony had noticed. He had just convinced himself that he had imagined it when he felt a soft touch on his thigh, which didn't immediately disappear like the first one.
The tableskirt was long enough that it rested in his lap, and obscured the view under the table. He lifted up the edge of the cloth and peeked under. A soft magical glow rested against his leg, and it was obviously a simple telekinesis spell, because he could feel it pressing against the inside of his thigh.
He abruptly let the edge of the tablecloth drop back into his lap, casting a quick and nervous glance around to ensure that nopony was watching him. His mind raced... who was magically getting fresh with him under the table? Every horn he could see glowed with the casual use of magic, as forks and cups and in one case some sort of contract and a quill were moved about. The colour didn't look like Luna's, but he didn't want to draw attention to himself by checking again to be sure.
Everypony seemed to be consumed with their own business or their own boredom. Duskwind scanned the faces around him, and his heart leaped into his throat when he saw Celestia catch his eye just for an instant, and wink. Without breaking her stride the princess continued her animated conversation with a bright green pegasus in an expensive looking dress. If he'd blinked he would have missed it.
He stared into his plate and nibbled his quiche, putting on his best "bored" face. This lasted only a few moments, because his ears involuntarily pinned flat against his head as the warm tingling touch began to slide up his thigh.
"Chew, swallow, stare at the plate... nothing is happening..." he whispered to himself. He kept his cool this way for all of ten seconds, until he nearly choked on his food when he felt Celestia's tactile spell creep up between his legs and give him a playful squeeze.
The conversations around the table were loud enough that the skinny white unicorn next to him was the only pony who noticed his distress, albeit in a disinterested way. Duskwind waved her away with a hoof and smiled sheepishly as he cleared his throat. She shrugged and returned her attention to her dinner and the wall on the far side of the table.
With his ears still pinned back in distress, he desperately tried to decide what to do. He couldn't call Celestia out. Publicly embarrassing the co- (and it couldn't be denied, primary) ruler of Equestria in front of all of these people was surely a one-way ticket to the deepest dungeon. He looked at Luna, hoping to catch her eye, but she was so engaged with a conversation with the pony to her left that he couldn't hope she would see him.
Fretfully flitting his glance from one princess to the other, he was raising his hoof to tap Luna on the shoulder when he saw Celestia's eyes narrow threateningly, and she gave just the merest hint of a shake of her head. He lowered his hoof and the white princess nodded almost imperceptibly and returned her attention to the other diners.
At least, her visible attention. Below the table, hidden by the ruffles of white cloth hanging from the table, Duskwind felt her spell gently squeezing him. To his horror, he felt himself growing erect under the influence of the slowly pulsing pressure.
All he could manage was a startled squeak and a mumbled apology when he felt a waiter who had seemingly come out of nowhere pry his empty plate from between his hooves and set down another plate with some sort of tiny dessert pastry on a doily.
He closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath, but that was worse, because with the world shut out all he could focus on was the soft but firm telekinetic energy wrapping itself around his erection and sliding slowly up and down.
Forcing his eyes open, the panicked unicorn straightened his ears and smoothed his face with a tremendous effort of will. By the time he had focused his resolve enough to slow his breathing and casually nibble at the pastry, Celestia's hidden magic beneath the table had begun to jerk him off in earnest, and he had to casually measure every breath to avoid panting for everypony to see.
As luck would have it, Luna chose just that moment to turn back to him, rest her silver shod hoof on his shoulder and kiss his cheek affectionately. She whispered in his ear, "Sorry that this is so boring. We shall make it up to thee later," and winked before turning back to the bustle of conversation without waiting to see his reaction. As she was speaking to him, obviously oblivious to the hidden goings on just below, her sister across the table squeezed him more tightly and quickened her pace.
Duskwind stared at the half eaten pastry on his plate. He tried in vain to follow any of the conversations around him. He tried to think of dusty history books. He tried to think about anything but the warm, sweet touch stroking his aching member. He had done this to himself before, obviously, but the princess' magic was more subtle, more gentle, almost feeling like a warm, wet mouth engulfing him with just the perfect amount of pressure.
Thinking about that was a mistake, and he felt his gut and loins tighten as a seemingly unavoidable climax drew near. His heartbeat pounded in his ears and he gritted his teeth, using every ounce of self control to hold it back. His mind raced in renewed panic as he desperately tried to imagine how he could possibly explain the aftermath... and then suddenly, at the last possible moment, the energies teasing him to the brink of orgasm stopped completely. His loins were left aching, throbbing and feeling slightly cold.
He pressed his eyes tightly closed and took slow, deep breaths. He felt like the slightest touch, or even a thought, would set him off. Just as his still proudly standing erection was barely beginning to subside and settle into the soft pain of frustrated arousal, he felt a hoof stroke his hair. Startled, he opened his eyes and found himself looking into the concerned face of Luna, close to his.
"Art thou all right?" she said softly, her voice gentle and worried.
He took a moment to collect himself and told her, "I'm okay. I just... something I ate didn't sit well. I'm sorry if I worried you."
She nuzzled her midnight cheek against his purple one softly, and for a moment he was afraid that the gentle touch might set him off after all. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the other guests were standing and beginning to leave.
"Art thou coming, dear?" she cooed soothingly. "Some of the guests are having port and cigars in the Lodge Room, and that might settle thy stomach. Else thou canst retire if thou'rt too unwell."
Under any other circumstances, her loving smile and soft words would have washed away any disgruntlement he had felt with this evening, but just now her beautiful face close to his and her crisp scent in his nostrils was the last thing he needed. He wanted nothing more than to climb onto a chair and mount her, then and there... but obviously that would also earn him a swift trip to the dungeons, however fondly she felt about him.
"No," he said with a shake of his head, "I'll be fine, I just need to sit here for a few minutes." He couldn't leave the safety of the table, not in the state he was in.
Luna stood and kissed the top of his head, saying "As thou wishest, dear. A page can help thee find me when thy stomach ails thee less."
With that she turned and walked to engage the standing guests, switching back to modern Equestrian and ushering them out.
Princess Celestia was the last to leave the table. As she passed Duskwind she leaned down to him and whispered, "That was fun, wasn't it? I won't tell if you won't. I can't imagine my sister would be very happy to hear what you almost did..." With a wink she ruffled his mane with a hoof and walked out after the others, her head held high and a regal smile on her face.
He sat with his face in his hooves for many long minutes. By the time a petulant servant coughed loudly at him, he was ready to leave the table without embarrassment. He heaved a sigh and slid to his feet unsteadily, unsure of what to do with himself. Spending time in a noisy, smoky room didn't sound very appealing right now, but the thing he wanted most was to be near Luna... and he realized that he could really use a drink.
Even though Princess Luna's anger did not seem to be directed at him, Duskwind cringed and cowered, even as he was pushed back bodily a few inches by the force of her Royal Canterlot voice.
"I'm sorry... please don't be mad..." Words came out of the frightened violet unicorn in a torrent, "I didn't mean for it to happen... she gave me this threatening look, and once I knew what was happening I didn't dare cause a scene, and I thought she might send me to the dungeons... but I thought you might also and I'm so sorry..."
He felt distinctly... soiled, and the taste of cloying port in his mouth and musty smoke in his coat did not help.
"WE..." Luna began, then let out a slow breath and continued more calmly, sitting down heavily on the floor of her chamber's sitting room, to which they had retired after the guests had left, "We are angry thee, but this is unfair. Thy situation was... unfortunate."
She raised a hoof towards him, and he touched it gently, daring to relax a bit. "So... no dungeon?"
For the first time since the topic had come up, the Princess smiled. She beckoned Duskwind closer and wrapped a wing around him affectionately. "Nay, we think not." She added ruefully, "Though we wish our dear sister could spend a night there... but even were that possible it would not make her stop. She has... done this before."
He rested his head against her shoulder, feeling a bit uncomfortable but unable not to ask, "Was that with... err... Flumple?" When she gave him a shocked look he explained hastily, looking at the floor. "I overheard you two arguing yesterday".
A wistful look crept into Luna's eyes momentarily, until she blinked it away. "Yes. A bit more than a hundred years before our exile, we took a lover. He was a court painter, and she never took any real notice of him, until he was in our bed. She protested that her sudden attentions thrust upon him were 'all in fun', but in truth she could not stomach knowing that there was one pony she could not have.
Duskwind silently admonished himself for the little rush of jealousy that washed over him. How could he feel jealous of a stallion who had lived eleven centuries ago? That was probably the wrong thought to have, because it left him feeling very young, and very small.
"Did you love him?" he asked, and immediately regretted asking what was obviously a loaded question.
She looked thoughtful, not meeting his eyes. "We... that is a vexing question. We cared greatly for him... greatly, but your lives are so short that we had very little time together."
A bitter thought came into his head, and he stiffened slightly under her wing. "So I... he was like a beloved pet dog?"
For a moment she seemed about to snap back a terse response, but she tightened her wing around his shoulders and nuzzled his mane, quietly saying, "No. We could never be equals, but he was more to us than that." After a hesitant pause, she added, "Our time together was important, if but a brief few decades. And when it was done, we built a small but beautiful tomb for him on the edge of Canterlot. It still stands to this day, though the land whereupon it lies is now in a park well inside the city walls. We have visited it every year on his birthday before and after our exile."
There was a long silence. The princess seemed lost in her memories, and Duskwind simply did not know what he could possibly say. After some time, she lifted his chin with her hoof, and looked him earnestly in in the eyes, whispering, "Thou'rt not a pet. Never think that." She kissed him softly, her mane flowing around their faces like a curtain made of the night sky.
After another long, but less awkward silence, she nuzzled the top of his head and said, "Dusky? We have heard of thy researches in the magic library. May we ask what thou searchest for?"
He looked up at her. Up, that was the key. He hesitated a moment before answering apprehensively, "I was looking for a spell to make me, well... bigger." He hastily added, "Not like that, I meant all of me. Like what Celestia did... though probably without the wings."
A look of concern crept over her face, and she was about to speak when he beat her to it. "Don't misunderstand. You're lovely, and majestic. It's just that sometimes... only sometimes... I feel kind of like a child next to you. With everything else, that sometimes makes me feel a bit, well, small, in the metaphorical sense as well as the literal."
She smiled affectionately and disentangled herself from him, standing up.
"We must apologize. We are so used to our stature that we never even thought of that," she said, walking slowly away from him. Her horn glowed softly, and in a way that made Duskwind's eyes water, she seemed to be receding from him two steps for every one that she took. After a few steps she turned around and walked back towards him, beaming proudly at him, her mane and tail streaming behind her. In the same surreal sense as a moment ago, she seemed to not be drawing as near to him as her steps should have taken her.
"Stand up," she bade him, and he did so. When she reached him, he blinked. It took him a moment to process what he was seeing. She was still herself, with the same elegant proportions, the same slim figure and unusually long, graceful horn. But as he stood and approached her, he realized with amazement that she was about half a hoof shorter than him.
"How... I didn't know you could do that..." he said in wonder.
She lowered her head and nuzzled under his chin with the back of her head, taking care not to jab him with her tiara or horn.
"And why didst though never ask? Compared to raising the moon and painting the night sky, a task such this is easy." In a sultry whisper she added, "Unless thou wouldst rather conquer a scaled down Nightmare Moon?" and flicked her ears playfully.
Duskwind was dumbstruck by the kindness of this gesture she had made, a broad smile slowly filling his face. Her lewd suggestion snapped him out of it, and he chuckled. "Not tonight... I'd much rather just enjoy you at the moment... but I find that idea strangely appealing. Maybe another night?"
"As thou wishest," the disorientatingly small princess said with a smile, "Perhaps a walk in the gardens, then?"
"Won't ponies stare, with you like this?"
"Let them."
"This is very sweet of you. I don't need this all of the time, just once in a while."
"We know."
"Well then, shall we, my Princess?"
"Yes."
She draped a wing over his back and they walked through the double doors that led from the Lunar Royal Suite into the moon-lit gardens, their sides touching as they went.
He knew this changed nothing, not really. He was still who he was, and she was who she was, whatever games they might play. But it was nice to pretend, even if only for a little while.
