> Captain Iron Hoof's Dream of His Wedding Day > by Plough and Stars Pony > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Captain Iron Hoof's Dream of His Wedding Day > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Captain Iron Hoof is sleeping deeply, peacefully. He knows nothing of the scandalous transgressions of his best Knight towards Princess Twilight Sparkle. All he hears, as he sinks deeper in to his pillow, are bells; thousands of bells giving delightful tongue. “Captain Iron Hoof, do you take Princess Twilight Sparkle to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The Hall is dazzling with sunlight, the green bower heaving with deepest-red and purest-white roses. The columns are so laden with streamers and balloons it is like they have sprouted branches dripping paper and spotted garlands and wreaths. The carpet is soft felt and is bright red for the humblest and respectable love. I look in to the eyes of my bride, behind her lace veil. Her eyes are glimmering with unshed tears. The bridal dress glows in tandem, elegantly draped over her body, the train rumpling in delicate foam on the floor. I stand stiff in my bright red Captain’s dress uniform, contrasted by the sky blue sash, emblazoned with the purple spider’s star of my bride’s cutie mark; my tie and collar are straight. Not a stitch or fold cuts or rubs my body uncomfortably in way. “I do,” I reply, confidence and boldness flowing through me, heart swelling; limbs, bones and fibres thickening and strengthening. “And does Princess Twilight Sparkle take Captain Iron Hoof to be your lawfully-wedded husband?” Twilight bites her lip, tears finally leaking out under her eye-lids and they shine more brightly than before. Behind her stand the Elements of Harmony, Prince Shining Armour and Princess Cadence (did she see from the start my feelings for Twilight were noble and honest and true?) and their parents Twilight Velvet and Night Light. All watch her and I with keen eyes, damp eyes and bated breath. The white unicorn, Rarity, is actually weeping, shoulders shaking. They are all so proud of her on this big day. Princess Twilight grins, teeth gleaming behind the veil. “I do,” she assents. Rarity, Cadence, and Twilight Velvet sob in unison. Night Light takes Velvet’s hoof in his own. The clashing polychromatic pegasus Rainbow Dash punches the air, wings launching her off the floor. The earth ponies Applejack and Pinkie Pie celebrate in their own way. Applejack smiles happily and Pinkie Pie bounces in excitement. My ears echo with those most beautiful and melodious words, as our contract is completed and not-quite-almost sealed. “And, I, Princess Celestia, now pronounce you as mare and stallion.” Celestia steps back a bit, but levitating a pair of fat gold rings winking with diamonds on to my horn and on to hers. They fit, snug as a minotaur’s hand inside a gauntlet. The scores of immaculate mares and stallions in the hall cheer, their shouts, and whoops, and whistles, bounce off the stone ceiling and arches and colonnade. The jubilation doubles and redoubles as countless hooves stamp the stone in rhythm. “You may kiss the bride,” Celestia finishes. I draw near to Twilight my bride and now my wife; I fail to prevent my happy smile from breaking out across my muzzle. All the Elements and Cadence and Shining Armour and her parents (now my mother and father-in-law) bar Applejack are streaming liquid pride. But I focus on Twilight. I light my horn and lift up one half of the veil, as I raise a hoof to part the other half. My Princess, my bride, and now my wife, is smiling, and blushing. She reveals those soft as velvet, slight violet lips which have tempted me for months. I take another step closer and her warm breath catches. Her purple cheeks become rosier still. Twilight’s kind dark eyes look deep in to my own. My heart quivers, but for a moment. And I look deep in to hers. She shuts her eyes. And I close mine. And we kiss. It is perfect. Indescribable exotic pleasure rush and crash through me and her as our lips dance and pulse. Our union is sealed and petrified in to law and in love. I pull away. Twilight is radiant with rosy-pink blushes, silver tears dripping from her muzzle and cheeks; her white dress catches the sunlight and the scintillating gold ring snug over her horn. I hear again the deafening cheers and stomps of the wedding guests. I turn to face the crowd, curling my hoof around Twilight’s (my mare, my wife!). We step forward, down and off the dais, along the red carpet following it down other sumptuously bedecked Halls groaning with streamers and flowers to the balcony. There Canterlot and the whole wide world will see us and shed tears for us. Somewhere, along the way, I know, rice will be thrown, wishing us a hundred years of good fortune. After the public presentation of the noble and proper stallion and the young and beautiful mare, there will be the reception, and the carriage to . . . Celestia and Luna fall in to step behind us, so do the Elements, Cadence, and Shining Armour and my new in-laws. Bringing up the rear is Blue Blood, mane coiffed and combed, but the stuck-up brat does not murmur a sound. With him is one particular Royal Guard, a knight, as shown by his light-blue saddle blanket on his back. His armour is solid gold and polished to perfection. There is no sign of a stain or spot or crack. His light orange coat blends with the gold armour. Deep blue bristles on his helmet quiver as he steps in to place behind Blue Blood, as his body guard. The body guard, Sir Flash Sentry, is the only one not smiling, but frowning, as if hiding the sadness in his sapphire eyes. I deign to regard him for a second out of all the seconds of this wonderful day. Flash Sentry is sad; sad because he has been put in to his place and he knows it. And I know it. He deserves it for kissing her fore-hoof and touching her again on the train to the Crystal Empire, according to Star Patch. And don’t you forget for a second, Flash Sentry that I did not see (how could I fail not to see) your coat flushing every time you bowed to her; your eyes seeking out her face, her eyes; and your faltering, pausing tongue. I know your heart, Flash Sentry. And it is broken. I have broken it. Twilight is not yours, will never be yours. She is mine. She could never indulge or return your puppyish feelings. Twilight is mine forever. Farewell, Flash Sentry. Cry your pitiful tears to-night in your tiny cell. I walk on, zircon eyes roving from enraptured faces, wide with glossy eyes and fangs. They wear flowers in manes, flowers in button-holes, suits and brocade dresses, wigs and feathers, necklaces of gems and pearls. All wear identical expressions. My wife and I step through the blinding shifting banners streaming in to the corridor and out on to the balcony. It is a hot summer day. The domes and spires of the city glint in the cloudless sky. Whereas scores were invited to the ceremony, now countless thousands of Canterloteers jam in to the wide plaza below inside the Palace walls. Countless thousands: countless coat and mane colours complementing and contrasting blur in to greyness and blueness. And the countless thousands shout and cheer like all the rest. Distance does not make their congratulations fade in to indistinctness, thankfully. I rear up on to the balcony rail and Twilight copies me. We wave and wave to the multitude below. Before long, I know what they want. And what the camera-ponies want for their papers to go from one end of Equestria to the other. I turn to Twilight and she turns to me. I intertwine my hoof with hers. I smile. She smiles. And for the people, for the newspaper-ponies, and for ourselves, we kiss. An ear-splitting crack batters down our ears. We open our eyes and turn our faces up to the sky. We see a great disc of rainbow colours spreading across the sky as a second sun. At its heart, we see a thin rainbow trail streaking away. We grin. We kiss again as the Sonic Rainboom bestows on us its blessing and its sanction. Iron Hoof gurbles in to his pillow, fast asleep. Meanwhile, far away, above the cottages of a certain monster-prone village, Princess Twilight Sparkle the bride-to-be and Flash Sentry the errant Knight break their first-ever kiss. But they do not break their embrace of hooves at neck and shoulder and cheek. Twilight gasps for air. Flash gasps for air. She looks deep in to Flash’s eyes, smirking smugly. And his mare leans in again, not pecking but plumping her lips on his left cheek and his right, his forehead, his nose and finally, his lips again. Again they sink in to each other for a second time; the other’s hooves hold the other close. They do not hear their wings pumping in synch to keep them in the air. They instead hear each other’s hearts trilling louder and higher and sweeter than Vaughn’s sky-lark. For a second time, they break the kiss. Twilight giggles. And sighs, closing her amethyst eyes in ecstasy. Flash grins, a true grin, perfect teeth glinting in Luna’s moon-light. He carefully rests his muzzle on top of hers, almost touching her horn, just for a moment. Twilight squeaks a few words in to the fur at his throat. “Best-Night-Ever!” > Down to the Golden Oaks Library. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hoofs thud on to the deck above. Spike jerks awake. The young dragon unconsciously stretches in his tiny basket bed. It was a clear night outside with stars stridently shining and the moon kindly gazing down on all. Snatches of muttered conversations lit up with giggles come wafting down to his ears. That must mean Twilight and Flash had come back from Pinkie Pie's party. But why had they flown the way home? Rolling over, the pillows tickling his snout, resting his eyes on the bedroom door. The wooden stair-treads sound with soft clip-clops as the two ponies walk down. Spike hears more conversation. There was something about the party, the sky and a dance, "- and you were like-," followed by "-and then we, oh, Celestia, we did!" (a fresh flowers of shy giggles and laughter). Spike groans. It was becoming irritating how mysteriously upbeat both of them were. The hoof-steps reach the bedroom door and stop. Spike hurriedly snuggles down, pulling powder-blue blankets over his head and frills. A second later, the door opens, the knob clenched in yellow feathers, "Here are you chambers, Your Highness," says a deep stallion's voice. A titter in a mare's voice. "Thank you again for the consideration, Flash. Not to forget being my partner at the party, and the skydance...especially the skydance, my handsome Knight in flashing armour." Twilight finishes, flirtatiously. Spike shoves claws in to his mouth to stop himself gagging on the cheesiness of Twilight's words. He hears her add, "It was truly wonderful." A pause. "I am so happy you did, 'cause -," Flash answers, husky voice fading to a whisper at the end of the sentence. A second pause. "When can we do that again, Flash?" the purple mare asks in a hopeful tone. The stallion chuckles, as at a filly or colt who wanted sweets. "Maybe after the Galloping Gala." "Good," Twilight murmurs. "In a few weeks." "See you then," "It's a date!" Twilight concludes. "Good night and sweet dreams, Flash, my love," she adds in a breathy undertone, the last in to his ear. "Good night, Twi, the same to you" he replies, his voice still husky. A silence fell, a silence which fills and holds the whole of the night. A silence which does not register the faintest throaty "Mmmm" from the stallion and the mare, as for the third time that perfect still night, they kiss. They break it and a deeper silence surrounds them as the mare nuzzles the stallion, seeing the ocean of his love as blue as his eyes the way he gazes at her, and the generous blush on his cheeks, over his snout and his ears. She steps away, in to her room, turning to glance at him, and his open mouth, before the knob glows in an aura, closing it with a soft click. Spike, sinking down in to the warm darkness, hears the reverberations of her hoofs on the wooden floor, the hum of the bathroom lantern, and knows no more. Reality is replaced by more-real dreams of a tall green handsome Knight in platinum armour rescuing a beautiful damsel with white fur and deep purple mane. Twilight finishes in the bathroom, she walks halfway to the bed. Pausing to heft her glad heart, the purple mare glances at her slumbering assistant. Seeing him as deep under and deaf as a stone, Twilight snaps her wings open, springing up in to the air, a wide dazzling grin springing on her muzzle for a second. "Ohoooohhh, yes!yes!yes!yes!yes!yes!yes!yes!yes!" Twilight screams under her breath, before landing, hopping, and skipping several steps to collapse on her bed, resting on her back, wings open. There she lay, panting, panting and grinning. Whereas it had taken her favourite assistant so quickly to fall asleep, his big sister lies awake, the only sound her breathing and wind toying the topmost boughs of the tree. Every so often she raises a hoof to her mouth, closing her eyes, parting and tracing her lips with a toe and frog. Every time Twilight did so, her inside burst with rapture and jubilation. Every time her eyes closed, one moment is fixed in her mind; fleeting, yet forever. Twilight sees Flash Sentry: her Guard, her friend, and now her lover. Twilight sees him anew, once more. Flash grasping her fore-hoofs as they spin round and round, wings slapping oblique to the zephyrs of the upper night sky. Afresh, Flash leading her as they glide high above Ponyville. That fore-hoof sliding round hers until he was holding it, flying at an angle of a narrow wedge, ensuring their wings did not entangle. Flash breaks away to tempt her in to a swoop. And Twilight does, proud her flying skills were close to excellent now. Anypony who could be watching were all sound asleep. Twilight feels her muscles in her legs and wings relaxing as she swoops, keeping a purple eye on the stallion ahead of her; his spiky blue tail a tenant, his tangerine fur diamond-grey in the moonlight. Twilight remembers the toned muscles outlined or in shadow... Flash is the next to step back, blowing out a breath he did not know he was storing. His muzzle stretches with an ecstatic grin, heart thumping and throbbing. Turning away, he languidly climbs down the dark stairs to the landing before the guest bedroom. Halfway down, the stallion pauses too, ascertaining he was out of earshot of the master bedroom. Flash's wings spring up, and he dives the last several steps to land on the landing with a soft thud. Behind him, a night light, a glass bulb filled with a few fireflies, flickers in to a vanilla orange radiance. Flash does not enter the guest bedroom immediately, the stallion leans his head on the cool wood of the door, feeling woozy with the feverous heat of his blood pulsing from his excited heart. Everything was changed now. His first kiss with a mare, or kisses. Heh. Flash's mind turns from the dream-like remembrances of the party and the skydance, to the future. The future, in Canterlot, where he and Twilight would come back. What would their days be like now? Princesses Celestia and Luna would lift and lower the sun and the moon, Twilight would hold her Royal Court every few days, and he would guard her, as meanwhile the stallions of the Royal Guard would line the halls and corridors of the Palace. Captain Iron Hoof would keep trying to charm and wheedle in to Twilight's affections. He, Flash, would go out on nights with Steel Wind and Sharp Spear. But not all the nights...Some nights he and she would steal together. The two of them, in her room, wasting time chatting, or reading, or star-gazing. Just the two of them. What would Sharp and Steel think, when he tells them? Stunned disbelief? Or horror, mingling with despair. Or would they heartily, but grudgingly, slap him on the withers and the back for getting lucky with a beautiful mare? Iron-ass would never find out he was defeated, defeated decisively, until it was too late. Flash opens his eyes. Iron-ass would find out, he would. He would. His rage would be terrible to see and hear. What would he, the Captain, do to him, Flash? Flash sees the Captain's red-sclera bulging eyes, the red flared nostrils, and the blemishless white teeth clenched to snapping point glaring at him in his mind's eye. What's more, Flash could feel the stagnant muggy breath pouring at him. Flash finds the sight of the Captain's Discord-eye to distressing. It flies back to...aahhhhh! exploring the shape and taste of Twilight's lips. Poking the tip of her tongue... Minutes pass, but the golden-yellow stallion neglects to count them, or even let them speak. Silence but the pulsing of a happy glad heart, remembered sounds, and breath. Flash unsticks his head from the door, standing on strained exhausted legs, clenching, turning the door knob in his feathers. Crossing the threshold, Flash sees the cloud white pillows and the nebula-purple sheets; the brown wardrobe, the lighter-brown bedside chest of drawers, the linen chest. Above the bed, the oval window looked out on a tranquil clear night flanked by pale blue curtains. Flash walks first to the bedside chest of drawers, tipping open the tinderbox with a fore-hoof, two small flints tumbling out. Sticking a flint in either hoof, Flash strikes the flints together. Sparks cascade, one catches on the candle-wick, and a flame clings to it, growing taller and fatter. Clenching the metal loop on the stand in primary feathers, the stallion carries it over to the linen box, setting it down, and opens the wardrobe. The stallion slowly unbuttons the dress uniform he secreted in his saddlebags after Twilight hinted he may need it for a party Pinkie Pie was planning to throw. Slipping it off, stretching his tired wings out of the holes, draping it round the coat-hanger. Batting the doors closed, turning away, lifting the candle-stick again to set it on the chest of drawers again. Rearing up, Flash draws the curtains close, thanking the night, blessing it. Now in the blackness of the room, a wing sweep back sheets, hoofs plump pillows. A bundle of tired limbs slips between, the head rests on the pillow. At once asleep. ---- ---- ---- ---- The sky was now golden orange with the rising sun, thin pink cirrus clouds on the pasture of the vaulted heavens. Ponies were waking up, stretching, pecking their partners and foals, throwing open their porthole windows, snapping on the kettle to boil, cantering out to hang out washing, not wanting to waste a moment of the glorious sunny day. In Golden Oaks Library, somepony was awake, and definitely busy, making up for lost time, hoping the sound did not carry up to the upper reaches of the tree. Twilight stirs as the dawn light curls round the curtains. She had slept well, deeply, and dreamlessly. The mare drifts up from the depths towards glinting, scattering consciousness. Her soul is cossetted by the gentle wings of the other-worldly, part-Luna, part-other. Up, up, and up she rose, until she glided to the meniscus, breached. One world, limpid and tenuous, is replaced by another, harder and brighter, yet drenched in soft butter-yellow.. The purple alicorn opens her purple eyes. Twilight's body is relaxed, feeling deeply refreshed. She thinks it would be the best idea to lie here, and, possibly drop off again. It was a weekend, and she was not required to do anything until the late morning. Twilight squirms under the duvet, ripples of cotton ironed flat by her legs and sides, more ripples spreading by her movements. Front limbs rise round in a fan, out of the duvet's embrace, straight and above her head, tensing, tensing, stretching protesting muscles. Limb muscles relax, and front legs are returned under the duvet, crossing over her barrel. Rolling on her back, hind legs shamelessly spreading open, tail flat underneath the covers. Relaxed, so warm, sleepy, comfortable...very happy. Looking straight up she sees the ceiling lamp's stem cutting through a stream of sunlight colouring the wooden ceiling, and lighting the bookcases on the other side of the study-bedroom. Twilight was dozing, when she hears faint steps on the stairs. The mare turns her head on the pillow toward the sound. Knocks on the door. "Twilight, are you awake?" Flash's voice. And she had thought this morning could not get any better. "Good morning, Flash," she calls out. A grunt at the foot of the bed lets her know she has woken Spike. "Good morning, Spike." "May I come in, Your Highness?" the stallion's voice filters through the door. Confused a bit, Twilight replies, "Yeah, sure, Flash," sitting up. The bedroom door opens, the golden-orange stallion stands there, gripping door-knob in his feathers. In one hoof he balances a tray where Twilight could see a bowl, a plate, a tall bar of yellow, a cup and saucer. Steam rises from the plates and the cup. "I made you breakfast," the Pegasus says, looking at the mare's face as her mouth drops open. "For you, to eat, in bed." Flash chuckles, red tinging his cheeks. "W-What do you think?" Twilight lifts hoofs to her mouth, under misty eyes. "Oh, Flash, you didn't need to go to all that trouble." "Of course I would, Twilight," the stallion grins. Twilight sits up in her bed, piling pillows behind her back. A horn glows. The curtain-rings shriek on the rail as they are pulled back, welcoming the study-cum-bedroom to the new day. Spike wakes up properly, stretching in his turn, scratching his hide, not pulling the blanket off him. The drake turns his attention to the Twilight and Flash, not opening his eyes. Flash was not basking in the pleasure of the sight of this early-morning eponine bucolia. With a smile on his muzzle, he was looking at Twilight, her mane was tangled and disarrayed, purple fur almost immaculate and smooth. Twilight groans, before rubbing her eyes with her fogs. "Did you make some coffee, Flash?" the Princess asked of her Knight before anything else. "I did," he replied. Walking over, he levelled the tray to the bed and slid it off his shoe-clad hoof with the other. He tapped the side of the steaming mug, causing ripples to tremble through the liquid, before Twilight picked the tray up in her aura, placing it over her haunches. "Thanks," Twilight says gratefully, picking the mug up in her aura, blowing on it before letting it hover a few inches left of her head. Only then did she welcome her colt-friend to Celestia's new day with a wide toothy smile. "A very good morning to you, Flash," she said. Sweeping her eyes over the food laid on the tray, Twilight added "You didn't need to make me breakfast in bed, but thank you so much." She did not stop smiling. On the tray was a large plate of daffodil leaves and daisy petals, between buttered toast. Splattered over the centre, south, and east were two large fried eggs and tomatoes. Finally, there was a tiny crop of mushrooms on the side, almost as an after-thought. "Oooff, what a spread!" Twilight exclaimed. "I will be full to bursting. You do know how to treat a mare, don't you?" she teased. "Well, you are a Princess, and you deserve to be treated as such," her Knight answered, the sun's raw light and something else moving across his muzzle. "And you're my...er, eheh, now as well," he stammered, before the crucial last word. The purple mare cackled. "Am I? Am I...what? What am I, Flash?" The red sunlight upon Flash's muzzle grew brighter. "Spike, why don't you go and open the Library up?" The drake threw off the blankets, sat up, and stretched for a second time. "Alright, Twilight." He plodded out of the room. "Now, Flash," the alicorn says, half-lidding her eyes to the scarlet-face and eared stallion. Flash pins his ears back. "You're my...marefriend, and my heart." Twilight chuckles in a low voice. "You are, my love. Come here," she said beckoning with the long primaries of her wing. Flash stepped closer to her. Twilight reaches to him. The frog of her hoof strokes up his neck to his cheek, tickling the fur there. The mare tugs him forwards, tapping her nose to his, his warm breath playing over her cheek, before she lightly kissed him. A moment or three of pressing her lips to his, sighing ever-so-softly, breaking away. Flash leans against Twilight as she pulls back, keeping the teasing contact, before he too breaks away. "I love you," Twilight murmurs. " I love you, too," her stallion murmurs back. "Prepared some breakfast for yourself, Flash?" "Not yet, Twi. love." "Do you want to - share?" the purple mare asks, gesturing a hoof over the scrumptiously-smelling breakfast. Twilight looks down, "Oh, how am I supposed to eat this with no knife and fork?" The stallion nearly concussed himself with the hoof striking his head. "Oops. Sorry, Twilight. I'll go and get them." "Heh, no need, Flash," and a few seconds later, a pair of metal utensils spanged in to existence, floating down to flank the plate. "Please, I, as a Princess, invite her Knight to share a repast with me." "Thank you, Twi. I'll just go and put something on toast. And a little later, a bowl of some porridge." Flash sits at one end of the bed, as Twilight digs in. The stallion watches in amusement as she accidentally smears yolk and tomato on her chin, cutlery whirring like two pistons dicing and cutting. "Mmmmmnffmmmfsogood." the alicorn mare moans in delight. Flash titters as Twilight swallows, smacks her lips, and clears her throat. "Flash, in the Royal Guard do they teach you how to cook? This - is - simply - delicious!" "Thank you so much, Twilight."