Dreams

by Icarus_the_Lunar_Guard

First published 15th of April, 2021

A batpony guard learns to control his own personal dreamscape for his own uses.

Icarus the Lunar Guard has been learned to use his sleeping time to access his own personal dreamscape; exiting the real world in order to enjoy scenarios that would be too extravagant, too expensive, illegal, or morally questionable (at best).

Normally these incursions into the Dream Realm are short-term events or accidental.

This is different. Princess Luna will investigate this threat and solve it, one way or another.

Summons

“ICARUS. I WOULD SPEAK WITH YOU.”

That first sound, that “IHK” that starts my name... Hearing that gave me a fear I have never experienced before. It was as if the iced waters of the Crystal Empire raced from the base of my skull to the tip of my dock. Guard training said I should have dropped into a defensive position for protection. That reflex wasn’t triggered, I was in such shock.

My personal dreamscape, my get-away from everything and everypony, my One True Home of Peace, my personal playground of decadence didn’t evaporate when I heard the first phoenem of my name. It didn’t crumble or even shatter. It simply… “Turned off”?

I can’t describe it better than that, except to say that it was “unnerving”.

The voice that called to me, that cut through my serenity and lanced through my being with The Royal Canterlot Voice, was that of The Supreme Lunar Guard Commander herself.

Her Majesty, Princess Luna.

Her voice was a moment of both clear sound and intent. She hadn’t made a request; She stated a fact as obvious as “rain is wet”. And just as precise, the sound of her voice simply stopped at the end. There was no lingering echo or ringing like every other sound has. It simply died in the blackness around me.

I had never experienced a “sound shadow” before. I don’t want to again.

The Princess knew me just as she knew all her guards. She’d made it a point to meet the Lunar Guardsponies when they’re commissioned into service. She’d bow her head, thank us for our hard work and success, levitated our royal scroll acknowledging our rank and posting after having passed guard training…

--and too quietly for anyone else but us to hear, She said to me, “I hope I am always worthy of your service, Lunar Guard Icarus.”

She congratulated us all the same way: personally, by name, and letting us know She understood the responsibility of her authority over us.

As individuals we aren’t special batponies to her or anypony else. There was a class of about thirty of us that season, all uniformed characters, identically dressed, which serves to make us less an individual and more a collective. But at the moment of our commissioning, for a brief few seconds, we were given to feel that we were the most important batpony in all Equestria to Her.

And now Her Majesty, Princess Luna of Equestria, the Ruling Sovereign of the Night, the Guardian of the Dreamscape, the Living Avatar of the Moon, who once challenged Princess Celestia for control of all Equestria, and nearly succeeded, had a special intent on me.

I stood where I was, beyond rock still, unsupported in the blackness; not even hearing my own breathing.

Her Majesty would know I heard her; it would be impossible not to in such a situation. She wouldn’t need to wait for any kind of acknowledgment; we guardsponies are trained to obey any order coming from the Sovereign Herself.

She had spoken to me. Protocol needed to be observed.

I straightened up and replied to the Nowhere, “At your discretion, Highness.”

Since she hadn’t said “NOW”, I allowed myself to slip into sleep. She would order for me when She wanted my attendance.

Mercifully I was permitted a full-day’s dreamless sleep to rest after my night’s delivery work.

Mercilessly it became a week’s worth before I was back at Canterlot Castle and summoned for.

Author's Notes:

This series is something I've had bubbling in my head for a while now. I want to explore some dark, VERY dark parts of who Icarus has become in my mind. And truth be told, I'm not sure of where the ending point is just yet. BUT I want to start exploring, start looking around at an idea that popped into my head and made this series almost needed.

The next chapter should cover the groundwork of what caught Princess Luna's attentions and how Icarus will be permitted to proceed.

--and the ramifications of it.

Understanding

Princess Luna formed The Lunar Guards shortly after Equestria itself, housing us in The Castle of the Two Sisters. She felt it necessary to have a force for the safety of the young kingdom and argued with her sister at great lengths on this point. We batponies were exceptionally suited for the job; Patrolling the night with little more than the stars and Luna’s Moonshine to guide us, we kept the troubled spirits and dangerous fauna at bay.

Few, if any, of the day-walkers ever knew what we accomplished for them while they slept. Both the Lunar Guards and Princess Luna.

And because of our positions and having proved our loyalty, She decided that we were the best suited to hold other secrets and knowledge. We kept track of various treasures, relics, and artifacts of great power, ensuring we could access them should the time be needed. After Nightmare Moon’s banishment, for instance, should Princess Celestia have ever turned on Equestria itself, we would have retrieved The Alicorn Amulet and allowed an Earth Pony of non-royal blood to use it to fight the princess.

That’s why the crystal caves under Canterlot were constructed in secret; as a prison for an alicorn, should it ever become necessary.

How that BUG found out about the caves is still a matter of conjecture for our security. But because of that and the rogue element that sold the Amulet to a shop, both are public knowledge, though nopony knows how they are linked.

But in those early days and moons, we were tasked with more clandestine security concerns. We were the emissaries for The Crown, delivering scrolls of the highest secrecy across the known world. The use of unicorn magic to teleport scrolls was perfected relatively quickly, but Princess Luna always wondered, “What If--?” and refused to rely on that system fully. Because of that She quietly created a very small office in the Royal Communications division.

The office I was eventually recruited into. The “Greeting Card Writing Pool”.

At least, that’s what my parents and my mare knew my job as. It disappointed them to think that’s what I had become after my cutiemark developed.

Being a Royal Secure Courier is not a job anypony speaks about anymore. The concept itself is an anachronism; a cute idea from a time long-gone, lost to history by more efficient teleportation or magically entangled books and quills. Even were the topic to come up we’d be able to talk at great length about the history of the office and how it was discontinued after the last perfected Directed Quill writing spell.

We learned how to make most of it very dull and boring to listen to.

But the crown knew our job was still vitally important for the security of the kingdom. Magic conveyance, however reliable, has a small but exploitable gap in the chain of custody for anything sent that way.

Our job is to take physical correspondences to-and-from secure locations across the world. We launch harder, fly higher, and soar longer than any pegasus would think possible. Even the best-trained most-fit weatherponies wouldn’t be able to keep up with us. It’s exhausting work: physically, emotionally, and mentally.

And having all this training behind me to hold my nerves together, It’s fair to say I was “On Edge” when Her Majesty’s summons for me finally happened a week later after returning to Canterlot from Yakyakistan.

“Night Court Is Adjourned. Thank You All For Coming. Guards, We Will Require Privacy. Icarus. Remain And Attend.”

As always, Princess Luna’s voice carried the air of her authority. She did not request, she commanded, owing back to her first co-rule of Equestria so many moons back.

Still standing at attention on the rug leading to the thrones, I flicked my ears once, visually acknowledging her order. My eyes directly ahead, looking at the second step up the dias.

The honour guard lieutenant at the doors TAP-TAP’d her spear butt on the floor, signaling the marching cadence for the team, and with matched hoof-falls they marched their exit formation. Ponies applying for guard duty don’t understand why music performance is a required subject in the training classes at first. But watching the guard’s public displays of precision marching bring that into perspective eventually. You can tell a lot by the L-T’s butt.

Even the L-T thinks that’s a funny joke.

The doors closed behind me and Princess Luna’s gaze dropped to me. This was the first time I’d been in her presence since my commissioning, and our only time alone, ever.

Physically.

“Your cards have sold well, Icarus. We are pleased with your abilities.” She paused a moment. “Ah! We will require privacy for this discussion. We have a new card program we wish to discuss. Corporate espionage and all….”

My eyebrow raised under my helmet, fur rubbing the inner layer. The only thing I could hear was her magic energizing before painting an arc of glowing midnight blue thaumic runes on the floor to my left. The glow swept clockwise, behind the thrones, and ended in a completed circle with us at the focus before a shimmering wall climbed up from the outer edge.

Princess Luna’s horn dimmed as she looked around and up, ensuring her spell, the one she developed generations ago, was in place. “The cone of silence is set. We may speak plainly now.”

I cocked my head and looked up. It was as she said, a cone from floor to ceiling. Returning my head to attention I again flicked my ears.

She was speaking. I was not to interrupt.

“Icarus, you know why we have called for you. We have…. matters.... to discuss.” Her pause and emphasis spoke volumes to me and she knew this. She had lived lifetimes and had knowledge that spanned areas that most of us could not even fathom. “You disturbed the Dream Realm in a way few ever have. We would have you explain how this came to be. These words will not leave our ears, so you will speak plainly with no evasion or embarrassment.”

My Princess, my Sovereign, She Whose Existence Was The Reason For My Cutie Mark, commanded. How could I not fulfil her order?

“Majesty, it was never my intention to disturb the Dream Realm. I only wanted a small bubble for myself for-” My voice hitched involuntarily. The full answer was asked for, but it was a terrible burden to give her.

--but she had commanded me to answer.

“-for my own personal enjoyment, away from the reality of others and myself. It was a shield I could keep between me and the rest of Equestria.”

Princess Luna nodded once and stayed silent. I could almost feel her eyes watching me, waiting for the remainder of the information she sought.

“I learned how to make a dream pocket accidentally a few years ago. I dreamt of a time with my mare while we were still dating. A festival where we… where she and I….”

My breath caught again. Fighting the emotions welling up in my throat was getting more painful as I thought back. I followed my training and found a way around the worst of it.

“-- where she and I fell in love. I enjoyed it. It comforted me after she died; being able to revisit our times together. I could almost forget she was gone and the pain she’d been in. It was… comforting.”

Luna’s horn bobbed as she nodded once and held up an armoured hoof a moment. “I am sorry for your loss. You may be at ease with me, now. Do continue.”

I nodded and relaxed my stance a bit, but still didn’t look up at her face. I plowed on through the tightening of my throat and blinked a few extra times. “It wasn’t something I intended to do, majesty. It just happened once in a while. And we did different things in the dreams. Things, on waking, that I knew we’d never done. Food we ate, rides we went on. Even…. Even when we….”

Luna interrupted with a direct and simple, “Mated.”

Not a question.

I could only nod and go on. “Yes. My dream version of her was as skilled as she was before her death. I knew she was barely experienced before we met, but she was….”

“She was your married mare. Healthy, vibrant, and alive for you.”

I couldn’t help myself this time and turned my head to look at Luna, barely able to focus through my tears. But I could still see that she was hardly cold and unfeeling. She had concerned interest in her eyes. She was understanding what I had to say.

I opened my mouth to continue but she re-raised her hoof to silence me. This time her voice was sadder. Remorseful. Respectful, even.

“We have outlived many who have been close to us. Some we would have even wed, were it not for our having to watch them die. All of them. We…. I …. Understand what you are describing. Please, continue.”

I was so wrapped up in trying to give her what information I could that I missed that “please” for a moment. “She was young. We were both so young. She didn’t deserve to die. But, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just…. So, yes. I had days of sleep with her. And I realized that I could guide our time together to change it. We could go back to every good time we had, experience different parts we hadn’t before. Eventually I learned that we could--”

“Yes”, Luna said, bringing my brain to a screeching halt.

“Majesty, what you saw--”

Princess Luna drew herself up on her throne, wings ruffling up as her voice regained her imperial tone. “What we saw was barbaric abuse of she who you say you loved. Had this happened in the Dream Realm or the Real World with somepony who was unwilling, you would have been--”

“--she wanted it”, I mumbled.

I blinked hard and dropped my face, mortified! I interrupted the Princess! How could I have--

“I beg your pardon?” Luna’s question shocked me so much more I snapped my head back up and looked at her directly. She was baffled, frozen in place with a question holding her still.

I had to go on before I lost my nerve, or was banished to Tartarus. “Majesty, we enjoyed times like that together. She was my mate, my half. She allowed me to be free to hurt her, to ravage her, to rut her senseless in the privacy of our home, however and whenever I wanted, and she enjoyed it! She wanted me to do that for her, with her. She asked for things I hadn’t known about sometimes, and we enjoyed our times together! She told me once, in no uncertain terms, that she wanted to be a drooling, sloppy--”

“WAIT.” Luna’s eyes had gotten bigger and bigger as I’d spoken, all while hardly blinking. And her ears and head kept flicking slightly side-to-side, like she was trying to understand all of what I’d said. “She desired this? She agreed to being abused like this?!”

I swallowed hard. This time not of fear or sadness, but because I knew I was about to divulge something about her that nopony had ever, would ever know. I answered the only way I could.

“Enthusiastically so… Yes Majesty.”

The Princess’ hoof dropped slowly as her eyes looked off to the side slightly, deep in thought.

“And that was why I kept those activities in my own pocket dreamscape; I didn’t want to accidentally pull somepony into my desires. And in the real world meeting a new special somepony with the baggage I have is challenging, some would say.”

Luna’s eyes zeroed back on me, listening but warry.

“Majesty, I am sorry you saw what you did. Not because I’m ashamed of it, but because you saw without knowing what we were doing or what I was doing. I can only hope you will accept--”

“Icarus, stop.” Her voice, though a command again, was gentle this time. She closed her eyes and took a breath before continuing. “What you have described, we are….” Her eyes opened, saw me back at attention, and paused. “We are… familiar with these relationships.”

There was nothing I could do to stop my own eyes from flying open and looking at her, barely keeping my mouth closed. As she continued to speak her voice took on a gentler tone; less the voice of a princess and more of a mare.

“Once, long ago now, we…. I… enjoyed such a coupling. He was…. We were…” The sound of her voice, the choices in her words, I understood. Instead of interrupting her I just nodded slowly. “That you found a natural entrance to the Dream Realm is interesting. I would learn more about how this happened. However more troubling would be what you had used the Dream Realm for.”

I could only nod once more and resume my formal stance. “I only ask that Her Majesty be merciful and allow me to die in my sleep with my mare.” I knew one day this might be the case, but a very outside chance. I had trespassed into Princess Luna's domain, learned how to manipulate a small part of it. Tartarus would be too--

“DEATH?! What?! Why would you…?! What made you….?! What? NO!”

I don’t know which of us was more surprised now. She was rocked so hard, she came down off her throne and walked quickly before me. With a sad look in her eyes she bowed her head slightly and whispered at my chin, like she had only once before…

“You are worthy of more mercy than that, Lunar Guard Icarus.”

Laid Bare

Being in Canterlot Castle is an experience many Equestrians will never experience. Daywalkers get to see it gleam and sparkle with the sun’s rays; pristine whites and reflective golds. Imposing in its sense of grandeur and impossible perfection for all the world to see. Those in the military will typically transfer there for training after being vetted in their home cities.

But to truly appreciate any status symbol one must observe it outside its intended audience.

Canterlot was built after Princess Luna was banished, becoming the Mare in the Moon. The former seat of Equestria’s kingdom, The Castle of the Two Sisters, was left in ruin after the Princesses fought for control; Luna fighting for the co-equal rule she’d been denied, Celestia to retain the hold she’d been steadily tightening her grip on.

With the poetic image of the harkening sunset, Princess Luna addressed her guards; “At the beginning of this night, I will confront Celestia once and for all. You will NOT interfere on my behalf, nor will you allow her Solar Guard to on Celestia’s. They are not responsible for her actions, so you will not harm them. Keep them and the citizens away from our fight. If I fail…”

Her eyes closed as she took a deep breath to steady herself. When they opened the assembled Lunar Guard witnessed the unveiling of the most majestic, alluring, slitted eyes any batpony had ever seen. In this moment, Her Majesty truly showed the power she possessed; a strength she’d always hidden under her carefully kept mask for the public.

Her gaze swept across the assembled guard, looking them all in the eye before speaking in a deeper, rumbling voice, as if she were harnessing the thunder of an approaching storm. “-- retreat to Hollow Shades. Stay there until I can return to collect you again. No matter how long it takes, you will take no action against Equestria or Celestia, but do all you can to keep it safe from the shadows. If I fail then none of you could defeat her. But make no mistake, even if it take a thousand moons, I will return for you.”

Like so many generations of batponies, I was born in Hollow Shades. It’s a lovely forest village, teaming with bioluminescent flora and fauna. We care for each other, play as foals, teach each other anything we can from music to history to commerce. Part of our formalized schooling is in the full pre-history of modern Equestria at large, in military practices, in how to teach and care for each other. Most of the adults were part of what was called the Lunar Guard Reserve, those that continued formal military training and held the past secrets of the Crown, waiting for Princess Luna to return for us.

And then there was me. An odd little foal who would jump and fly near the treetops, fast enough to make leaves fall off the highest branches in my wake. It was always a challenge to see how many more leaves I could take off each time. As I got to be a stronger flier, my hooves started making impressions in the ground when I jumped before streaking off to visit the skies. But it always felt wrong, like I wasn’t doing something right and I just couldn’t figure out what it was.

One night as I looked up through the tree canopy at the starfield above and the Mare in the Moon in it, having learned about her creation, how it was Princess Luna in there, trying to come back for us, I cried. I cried for our lost princess. I was sad for her, angry for her, ashamed that none of us had ever tried to bring her home.

My father tried consoling me, telling me that I shouldn’t concentrate on something I would likely never be able to do. That I should just be learning to do something more realistic and reasonable, like grub farming or being a fisherpony. Maybe he thought he was giving me good life advice. Doesn’t every parent think they’re doing that? But in those words all I heard was, “you will never live up to your own expectations, so stop trying.”

And those words turned my sadness, anger, and shame into a white hot fury that made my teeth clench, my ears to slam back, and I almost growled like an Ursa. I half turned, dropped my body into the defensive angle we were taught early: shoulders lower than the flank, chest just grazing the top of the grass, and my wings snapped open with a new “POMF!” sound I had never heard before.

There was a new buzzing in my head and ears.

All my muscles were tensed up ready to fight.

I took the angriest breath of my life.

I wasn’t having it; wouldn’t accept that.

My own father told me, “No”.

I angled my wings back.

She called for me

The buzzing ROARED.

I launched!

Screeched….

After I blinked away a tear Princess Luna’s eyes were all I could see, my name the last word on her lips for me to hear.

The cone was still around us. We were still privately speaking.

Her voice was gentle but no less commanding. “You will listen and not interrupt.”

What could I do? I flicked my ears.

“You are not the first to have manipulated the dream realm, but your use is most interesting to me.” Luna’s head cocked slightly as if she was mulling over something puzzling. “Over the many moons there have been attempts to weaponize the dream realm. You learned the story of Gristle, the Great Mad Drake?” Her voice positively dripped with malice and spite once she said that name. “He tried to do just that. Pity he went mad shortly after he bungled his way into my domain.”

The foal rhymes about Gristle were more truth than warning stories?! All I could do is blink in shock.

“But you? You tried to give yourself a quiet… well, maybe not exactly ‘quiet’, place to escape the pain of your loss. First and foremost, I worry that this has been unhealthy for you, emotionally. It is my place to help ponies through traumatizing dreams so they are not harmed by them. I have some understanding of how we can punish ourselves night after night in some kind of penance.”

I cocked my head, feeling my helmet shift against my ears a little. “Majesty, I have never punished myself. I relived the experiences with my mare so I wouldn’t forget them. Since--” My throat was tightening up again. My training was the only thing keeping my voice coming. “..since my memories are all I have left of her and us.”

The Princess’ head bobbed slowly in acknowledgement. “Show me”, she commanded.

My eyebrow jumped under the helmet, keeping her from observing the level of my surprise. “I… Majesty, Show You what?”

In the next blink of my eyes I was surrounded by blackness, only able to see myself. My hooves were bare of their guards, my head had no helmet weight, and my flanks felt no blanket. But I heard Luna’s voice from around me, just as she had spoken in my dreamscape a week ago.

“You will show us what we last observed and you will give us the context we need to understand what you have been doing.”

Author's Notes:

I hope the lead-up to the next clop-heavy chapter has been worth it. I've felt that it important to understand Icarus by learning how he came to be the character he is.

The next chapter will be, literally, taken from a dream I had.

Choices

Author's Notes:

I know I said I was going to use a previous actual dream scene, but My muse just would not shut the buck up with this. So, I'll see what happens for next time.

When Moon Shadow and I married, my parents gifted us the treehouse I grew up in. They wanted to move into the cities of Equestria and knew how much I had always loved that old tree. It put us further away from most of the town and gave us newlyweds some privacy, much as anypony could have in the Shades. At least no one’s windows were facing any of ours, even if our landing deck was out in the open.

Growing up I wasn’t a great student; I did well in all my lessons, but I was horrible at getting up at Last Light, eating breakfast, and flying to school. It was close a lot, but I was never late, spreading my wings and flying as quickly as I could through the upper branch covers. I had the route planned so well in my head I could almost fly it with my eyes closed.

Never tried it because, like I said, I wasn’t a bad student and flight class taught us what happens if you break a wing. Maybe that helped me with my cutiemark. Hard to really know.

Our treehouse was generations old and because of that we had something the younger trees couldn’t. Our home was grown by a farmer who knew how to train the roots as it grew, so she coaxed it into forming an empty cavity below the ground level while still being as stable as any treehouse could hope to be. So we had a below-ground round room that spanned the entire diameter of the tree.

I loved going down there during the day when I should have been asleep. I’d creep downstairs with my jar of Glow Grubs to navigate around the stored furniture and explore the walls to see how the roots and dirt were woven together. Some days I could almost hear them drinking the rainwater as it seeped into the roots and never got into the room itself.

My parents did the usual Embarrass The Foal To His Special Somepony by telling Moon Shadow how they knew I was doing it and how mom didn’t do anything to stop me, hoping I might find an interest in agriculture….

We were back in that room now, just as I remembered it; cleared out of all my parent’s stored things, leaving just some specific wooden constructions to the sides, my glass Glow Grub trails in the roots above--

“--please. Mercy. I’m done. No more. Please stop. Mercy, mercy, mercy. Please stop, YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO STOP!” That poor, tortured mare still had enough strength to rattle the chain links supporting her. I knew I loved her strength for a reason. My Moon Shadow; her gorgeous body mostly hidden under a cheaply-made version of the Shadowbolt’s uniform, stained with sweat and moistened from a slow-dripping pan of water above her to keep her uncomfortably cool.

It’ll only get worse for her over time.

Her charcoal hair and mane were effectively one disastrous, frazzled combination since I’d tied them together with no concern on how I’d untie them later. Since she loved having her mane and tail grown out I could have just braided them together, but that wasn’t the effect I was going for. That lump of hair was matted with who-knows how many crusted over layers of spit and semen and piss and dripped water, all of which was worse the closer to her head and dock you looked. I needed to use buckets of water to wake her up from time to time. Sometimes just for fun.

And she was so much fun.

I had put the most embarrassing head bridle design I could find on her; she looked like a pre-Equestrian slave whorse with straps wrapped over her muzzle, under her jaw, and around the back of her head. I even splurged to make it as humiliating as possible by keeping three gags clipped to the sides for when I needed them. A cock-headed plug to train her cock-swallowing throat, a strait-across bar with a tongue plate to make her drool and stop her complaining, and a ring to keep her from getting any rebellious ideas when I’d use her throat as my private struggling-to-breathe cock sock.

As if the humiliation of that wasn’t enough, I’d installed the vision blinders at the sides of her eyes and buckled them closed. Even with the black leather of the straps against her near-ebony coat, I could still make out the dried tear marks down her cheeks. Since they were dry, she’d not cried in a while, meaning she either wasn’t upset enough or drinking enough water.

I stepped in front of her and backhoofed her face with my right hoof to get her attention. The little mudpony filly scream she gave me was perfect; it let me know she was still aware and gave me an open hole to shove the drinking dildo into her face from her left. After a little sputtering and choking she sucked hard, trying to deepthroat and swallow the concoction of water, honey, salt, and bitter root extract before she could taste it. It took a few nights, but she eventually learned she needed to drink and practice her cock-swallowing skills.

I left her face and walked around the side of her to make sure the rest was still safe.

Her left wing was clamped flat between a pair of painting canvases, supported by heavy chains leading to the wooden frame above us. Her right wing was banded at the wrist and mid-fingers, and both connected to a twin-band around her body, keeping it secure. I was so glad my old courier tube harness was useful for something.

She so hated this asymmetrical feeling. The first time we tried this she’d only lasted long enough for me to finish strapping her up before she told me, in no uncertain terms, that we would not do this again by saying she’d, “sooner do Birthday Anal to Mouth before doing this again”, as I removed everything.

I’d left her no sight, bound wings, body covered in a cheap, damp, ruined costume, mane and hair pulling against each other in a hopelessly bundled mass…

She’d hate that last part the most, if she could see it.

“Please, Icarus… My Stallion, please. Mercy…. Mercy, BUCKING MERCY! You’re supposed to respect my wishes…. You’re supposed to do what I want….”

I didn’t bother saying anything since she wouldn’t hear me. But she did feel the vicious wing slap across her flank, followed by the fire in her scalp and dock as her head thrashed around weakly.

Looks like that drink of water helped a little.

I turned and walked behind Shadow where a pen with two crystal lambs materialized. Using the same wingtip I pushed open the latch and let the hungry animals make a beeline for Shadow’s udders as I followed and watched. They both latched on, sucking and gnawing on her nipples, trying to get some food without a care about the whimpers and groans and head shaking coming from their owner.

Getting her into this position hadn’t been easy, especially with her having been drugged asleep. But after some struggling I got her on the padded board and belted into place at her flanks and shoulders to keep her from rolling off. Once there, getting the belts around her hind and forelegs against the inverted V’s at either end was simple. As it was she was now suspended a hoof’s width off the floor by chains, with a few at the ends to make sure she couldn’t swing more than that in any direction.

But that also made it so her teats were completely exposed to these little suckling monsters after I’d cut holes for them in her costume. I couldn’t just stop there, of course; her plot and cunt got the same treatment individually. It was cheap, so I didn’t mind that I’d ruined it. Also meant that I didn’t care about the “waste products” that had stained the material over the last….

I couldn’t believe it’d been this long she’d kept her strength so far.

Her head was swaying back and forth and her vocal strength was already used up, it sounded like. “I’m not a cow… please, mercy. No more. Icarus, please… Mercy, mercy mer--AGH! NO! STOP!” Maybe the lambs were impatient and chewing more. Won’t be the last time.

Now was my turn to use her body for my own.

Materializing a hollowed-out buttplug attached to a hose and bulb was simple enough, as was the pan of olive oil to dip it into. A quick dip of the tip and it was ready to slide into my love’s plot. A drop fell on her ponut, warning her, and her head lifted again. “What?! No…. not my plot. Don’t do this. No, please. Mercy, mercy, mercy, Stallion… Merc--SSSHHH! Cold!”

Oh, it wasn’t cold, exactly. Just underground room temperature. I’m surprised it was even a concern for her, considering I’d been keeping her body just uncomfortably chilly to keep her tired trying to stay warm. But a quick push, a little groan, and it was in. Always made me smile, making her look like she had a new tail falling off her flank. The fun part, now, was squeezing the bulb slowly to fill her plot with a delicious lubricant.

The lambs kept her whimpering and groaning with each impatient bite as I emptied the pan into her. That pan made sure I would have more than enough lube to enjoy her with. All those nights of using this delicious, expensive oil with our special dinners, and she asked me to do exactly this to her one day. My publicly proper mare; my in-secret whorse. That memory made my cock drop properly and slap my barrel with a wet, “plap.” I was so ready for her.

I pulled the plug out of her plot, landing it in the pan, and lined myself up. As soon as my first forehoof spanked the garish fake uniform cutie mark, she tried to shake again, tried to flex her wings, tried not to move her head. “Please, not my plot. I can’t cum like this. You can’t just do this, please, please!”

My cock landed on her plothole like it was aiming for it the whole time. Considering how she enjoyed it when she was in the mood for it, I almost felt bad that I was just using her like a purchased pussy. Since this wasn’t about me, exactly, I pushed just enough to dimple against her and waited, feeling the pulse of the blood in my cock. And more importantly I was waiting for her breath to slow down just a little so I could time this moment--

And, oh! That push of rattling air out of her, was delicious. There’s simply no way to know if it was a lost whimper or a scream or crying, but I know it was her plot filled and her teats chomped on at the same time. All she had in her after her breath returned was to gasp out, “Sweet merciful Luna, save me. Please. Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!” I was fucking her plot hard enough to push the suspension harness against the chains on each word and it was delightfully, evilly fun for me. Each word of her safe phrase fell off her lips like the spittle she wasn’t swallowing.

Like the cunt juices finally dropping from under my cock and coating my balls. Her body was enjoying this a lot, even if her brain was half-broken and refusing to accept it yet.

Leaning forward I was able to grab her ear in my teeth and chomped down. I don’t think I tasted any blood, so I hadn’t punctured anything, lucky me. Getting her to a doctor would have been hard to explain now. I could have just bitten her neck and claimed her like the mare she was, but she wasn’t that. She was a masturbation tool, a hole, a toy I was going to cum in, and quickly now.

“Don’t cum. Don’t cum there. Fuck my cunt. Take your mare. Please, have mercy. Let me cum, I can’t cum like this, Let Me Cum, Luna Damnit To Tartarus, please!” Oh, those words just pushed me over the edge straight away! I yanked on her ear, getting a howl of pain and frustrated, “NO! NO!”s from her as she felt her plot heat up with my cock cream coating her insides with every pulse of my flared cockhead.

As much as I wanted to enjoy her more or just stay in place I couldn’t. I opened my lips around her ear and blew spit leaving it wet and warm inside to humiliate her again. I walked my forehooves back, pushing myself up and pulled my flare back through her sugar walls. The wet plop from her ring and my cum was the perfect ending.

As I walked around in front of her the ewes paused, frozen in place, waiting to be brought back to life, such as their existence was.

“Please, let me cum. My wings, my legs, my nipples. Please Stallion, fuck my cunt, let me cum. Please let me. Have mercy.” Oh, my sweet artificially stupid Shadow’s voice mumbled, hoping I would hear and be merciful.

My hoof raised and I touched her spit-soaked ear. At the first touch, knowing I was right in front of her, she started pleading in a whispering breath. “Let me cum. Mercy, Stallion. Let me cum. Please, sir. Mercy, mercy, mercy.”

At least she wasn’t fighting me as I pulled the wax and cotton plug from her head. I had been waiting for this chance for literal nights and I was almost shaking with anticipation. “You want to cum, hmm? You want a cock in your cunt so you can, do you? Fine, my little nearly broken toy. Here’s what’s about to happen.”

Her voice cracked in pain from her nipples being assaulted again as I willed the ewes back to work. “Now, Shadow, I want to know just how much you want to cum,” I whispered in her open ear. I had planned this out for so long in secret. So very, very long.

And just a second after that she felt a heavy “THUMP!” of wood above and behind her, shaking the entire support. Shadow’s head lifted so tiredly, like she barely had the capacity to know where “forward” was from her now. “Yes, cum, please. Mercy, please. What was--?”

I didn’t let her finish the question and simply ordered, “Tornado, Drop!”

Her head did lift this time, aimed right at me. Not only did her breath hitch, I could see the strain in her forehead that her eyebrows had been yanked as high as her skin would allow, meaning her eyes were wide open under the blindfold. Watching her ears slam full back and her breath barely functioning let me know she was utterly terrified and in Fight Or Flight mode.

Perfect.

I was savouring these words, this Faustian bargain, for my nearly broken, cum-hungry toy. “You felt that, didn’t you? You want to cum with a cock in your cunt, but here’s your choice.”

The deep screeching whinny above Shadow and the hot THUMP of eager, hungry, drooling cock on her flank drove her into a level of terror I don’t think she could have envisioned before. But me? I was licking this up, literally, as my tongue devoured the tears seeping from under the blinders, leaving wide, wet streaks on her cheek.

Just to make sure she was paying attention, I backhoofed her face again and spoke carefully, enunciating every syllable, putting as much artistry into my voice as any painter to their canvas. “You’re going to be fucked by an honest to goodness horse.”

I was so proud that she still had any strength left to thrash and screech with. It lasted all of three seconds before she froze again, giving me the opening to go on.

“Listen closely, you needy little cunt. Tornado is no over-eager colt. He’s a seasoned sire stallion, almost twice your size, as black as your coat, with a cock that’s pinker than your insides.” Oh, this was too much fun to hear that little, “Hih… no… hih… no… hih…” of terrified breath from her.

Tornado’s forehooves on the safety bar over us shifted as his body skittered sideways a little. “His cock… it’s under the uniform on my back. Sweet merciful Luna, no. Icarus, ‘Mercy, Mercy, Mercy’. Please! ‘Mercy, Mercy, Mercy’! PLEASE!”

All I could do is smirk, lean into her ear and whisper, “You still have seventeen days left in this contract of ours. Remember what you agreed to? ‘No safeword, full stop’. That was your addition, I think, wasn’t it? Along with the, ‘No Permanent Damage’ rule.”

“No. No more, please. Mercy, mercy, mercy. Please! He’s going to fuck me. You’re going to make me fuck an animal! NO! He’s fucking between my wings. No, please! You can fuck me again. You can make me cum, please!”

The sadistic smile on my face had to have been coming through my voice as I took my time savouring this. “Here’s what’s going to happen, my little needy cunt. He’s going to give you what you want; a cock fucking your cunt so you can finally cum. He’s going to fill you up with that flare of his, cum deep in you. And that flare of his will be pressed against your back wall, flood you--”

She was shaking head head muttering, “No, please. Cum, please. Stallion. Fuck me, please Stallion. ‘Mercy, mercy, …’ ” She couldn’t even finish this time.

“He’ll give you a false pregnancy. Your teats will feed those crystal lambs finally.” I couldn’t help myself and willed those hungry ewes to bite and suck again, getting her lovely voice to grunt with all the smoothness of a gravel road as Tornado’s flanks started hunching again. “O-o-or-r-r….?” I lead.

She grabbed on this immediately, teeth gritting through the pain. “Or?”

I finally dropped the last card I held. “Or…. he fucks you back there so he can’t get you pregnant.”

Making Tornado stomp and whinny impatiently again was what made this moment almost perfect for my sadistic fun. Adding his hitching flanks, sawing his cock across her back and painting her costume, inside and out, with horse precum was the metaphorical Icing on the Cake. “So, you get to cum on a cock now, the last time I’ll let you for the next seventeen nights. Maybe he’ll give you a false pregnancy for the next three months, with all the milk dropping that goes with it. Or he fucks your super oiled ass.”

Shadow’s mouth had been working, shivering, like she was trying to find the bravery to say anything. “I can’t cum from my ass. Not like this. Please, Stallion. Mercy.” her voice was barely a sound on her breath. What emotion was past Abject Terror? I don’t know what it’s called, only that this was where I was dragging her through.

“What’s it going to be, cunt? You get to cum one last time for the next three weeks and risk being my long-term milk mare, or let him cum so deep in you that it’ll come out your nose? Better tell me now to I can guide him before his cock finds a hole on its--”

The dream realm stopped.

Just as it had last week.

I was back in the throne room with Princess Luna in the middle of the Cone of Silence with her eyes on me. Eyes that were open as wide as I image Moon Shadow’s would have been. Her breath panting in something between fear and excitement, I think.

“How…” The Princess voice paused so she could take a few calming breaths while her eyes darted around the floor, making sure the wards were still intact and active.

I just waited patiently. I was used to this dream experience; She was not. Truth be told, it did bring me a little perverse pride to know that I had surprised the Mistress of Dreams. I held my trained attention-face to not give anything away.

After collecting herself she spoke slowly, in the way politicians are hated for. It was a very carefully crafted question. “Icarus, Did you and your Moon Shadow ever consummate such an experience in your waking lives?”

I think my face held, but the pit of my stomach couldn’t. I felt it drop to my hooves by way of my diaphragm, preventing me from answering instantly. Because of that pause I did the only thing I could to show my sincerity and turned my face to her’s and met her eyes.

“No, Majesty.”

Luna didn’t move at first, digesting my answer. After an eternity in my mind she nodded, lit her horn and fired a quick burst of magic around us. There was a crackle of arcane power as the runes expired and the air around us normalized, ending the slight blue tint of the room. To replace that power, it seemed, she spoke out clearly and commandingly. “Lieutenant Noctis! Enter.”

I heard the doors behind me open; always prompt and professional, we guards are.

“Your call is responded to, Princess.” There must have been a shift change because I recognized that voice. Lunar Guard Lieutenant Nubila Noctis of the Royal Throne Room Honour Guard Detail. Her reputation as one of the most exacting perfectionists is not understated. Fortunately she’s the one most likely to whisper a joke to one of her detachment while on duty just to see who flinches.

“The spires are red tonight, Lieutenant.” Luna’s code phrase choices are never discussed in the guard, but they are apparently always entertaining.

“--and your hooficure looks like it was done by a deaf Ursa, Princess.”

Did I say, “entertaining”? I think this one was of the L-T’s choosing.

“We will be retiring to our chambers for the remainder of the night. Take your detail and escort Guard Icarus to the Greeting Card office. His personal protection is your responsibility until that time. After that your detail may be dismissed for the remainder of the evening. Icarus, return to your duties as normal. We will discuss that card program and the possible corporate espionage problems again in due course.”

I heard from behind me, “At your direction, Princess” as I flicked my ears in silent acknowledgement while Princess Luna turned and walked out the back of the throne room into the castle proper.

TAP-TAP!

My training kicked right in and I marched in place in time with the L-T’s butt.

TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP!

I started my turn, spinning in place to face the doors at the end of eight paces, then marched forward for the doors. Four paces ahead of me Nubila fell into formation leading me down the hall. As we passed the rest of the detail they joined the formation, having already heard the commands. The next two paced up alongside me, leaving room for us each to open our wings if need be. The last two fell in behind, closing the Pentagram Formation at two wings away from each other.

Halfway to the Card Office the tail ahead of me flicked just a little too much to the side, giving me a quick flash of a piece of jewelry she was wearing under her tail this shift. A simple white circlet with a red border and cross-bar at an angle.

Do Not Enter.

Cute.

At the office my security detail stopped and I gave a formal hoof salute in gratitude. But I still had one last thing to do. “Lieutenant, a question if I may?”

She was curious and nodded. “What’s on your mind, copy boy?”

Copy Boy? I was going to ask quietly, but now? Nope. The whole detail was going to hear this.

“Instead of, ‘Do Not Enter’, may I suggest you wear, ‘Dangerous Curves’? I understand it would be more appropriate for your personality. Good Night, all. May Luna watch over you.”

As the door closed behind me I could almost hear the details’ collective jaws drop before one of them smugly commented, “Who knew a Greeting Card Writer would be able to come up with a comeback like that under pressure?”

Oh! The L-T’s butt was chaffed.

“You’re ALL dismissed until Last Light! And not a WORD gets out about this or so HELP me, I will find an underground vault for you to protect!”

Copy Boy.

Ri-i-i-ight.

Gristle the Great Mad Drake

The story of Gristle, the Great Mad Drake is a foalhood story told by the non-reserve families in Hollow Shades for as long as anypony could remember. Like so many other bedtime stories it was designed to both slightly frighten and teach morals to our batpony foals.

The general story was that The Great Drake Gristle wished to become the First and Last Dragon Lord - that he would live forever, commanding over all living creatures throughout the world. He even hinted that he’d discovered a way to keep himself from aging and a new weapon to subjugate the world with, though he never said, exactly, what that was.

Soon after he decreed himself the title of “Dragon Lord”, he woke and asked questions of his dragonkin; questions that prompted the doctor to check on him. Questions like what year it was, who were his children, how many mates he still had alive. It took part of that day to convince him that the answers were truthful and all was as it should be.

But the next day it happened again, only worse; he woke screaming, crying, frantically wanting to know what happened to the dragonlands, where the invading armies had come from, who was left to fight back….

But, of course, nothing had happened.

It was only a nightmare they told him. Some bad gemstones in his diet they said.

But the days turned into weeks, turned into a month, then a whole season - slowly turning Dragon Lord Gristle mad. His waking hours were filled with maniacal laughter or crying or mumbling or talking to himself or his advisors about things that had never happened, making him unable to pay attention to his people’s problems.

Until, one morning, he took the Dragon Lord Sceptre, flew as high as his broad wings would take him, leaving Gristle-Shaped Holes in the clouds, and threw the Sceptre away! Launching it deep into the dragonlands, not caring where it landed or who would find it, only caring that it was away from himself.

And with that task done, he dove. His powerful wings driving him faster to the ground, leaving a streak of vapor behind himself, until his terrified screaming ended as he impacted, snoutfirst, into the ground.

Historic records show that so loud was the explosion that it was noted in the outskirts of the Crystal Empire.

Our parents would explain that the moral of the story was that we should always be mindful of what we choose to take on in life; that there are far-reaching responsibilities that come with each choice. The realization of the responsibilities for Gristle’s want to control the world and all in it forever finally dawned on him, overloading his mind and heart with the pressures he’d have to face for all time without end.

Like so many watered-down stories like these, the truth was far more grim, but still inside the tale if you knew where to look.

Gristle was a real dragon; the very first with the title “Supreme Dragon Lord”, in fact. His people didn’t call him that because the term “Supreme” was useless, so “Dragon Lord” he was.

And, of course, Gristle needed to have something to show everydrake he was the most important dragon; the Dragon Lord. And it not only needed to exude authority by its looks, but by its infused power. Power to influence other dragons.

And it needed to be obvious, not hidden away. Something he could carry and show off. An extension of his ego. Like wanting to be called “Supreme”.

The sceptre soon appeared.

The Lunar Guard’s information network passed word to Princess Luna soon after the sceptre’s first public display. It wasn’t difficult to learn about considering Gristle’s ego made sure everydrake saw it and was to pay some reverence to it.

Normally such information would have been shared with the Solar Diarch so there would be an agreed-upon joint response to this political change. In this specific case She kept the information, choosing to deal with this event personally. She had been sensing odd forms in the Dream Realm for some time, never quite being able to figure out where it was coming from or what the disturbance was. But with this revelation the pieces began to fall into place.

The Dream Realm can be thought of like a pool of water; you can float in it, glide through it, there’s no real sense of Up or Down, you can feel it ripple through you like a wave, and you don’t have to breathe it. There is a definite “normal” to how it should feel and act, and for weeks Princess Luna knew it was most certainly “not”, but was mystified as to what or where it went wrong. It was seemingly everywhere and nowhere each time she tried to feel it; like ripples on the top of water reflecting over and over again from the sides of a lake.

Since dragons do not typically share the Dream Realm as ponies do, there is no need for Princess Luna to watch over them. But the discovery of Gristle’s plans and ego and the sceptre’s stored power, she took another investigation into the “wrongness” of the Dream Realm, casting her attention wider and wider on the guess that the disturbance was Dragon Lord sized.

Finding a non-pony in her domain was worrisome. Specifically, finding Gristle had forced his way into it, effectively clawing a hole in and trying to manipulate it was almost enough to terrify her. She knew enough to keep herself hidden from detection, investigating the damaged dream realm slowly, carefully.

It took some weeks to carefully peek into his mind when it was most vulnerable, uncovering his wants for supreme dominance, to be the final forever-king of the world. Several weeks of gathering clandestine reconnaissance while plumbing his vulnerable mind for ways to sate his desires without allowing the subjugation of the world.

She started gently adjusting what he experienced when he was able to cross into her purview; planting an idea here, fabricating a possible future there, letting him see, little by little, what he was trying to accomplish and how it would affect everycreature. This took weeks to produce results since there would be some days between crossing events and not taking every opportunity to adjust him so as to not raise suspicions.

The field reports let the Princess know his reaction was not what was wanted.

The feelings those dreams gave Gristle made him more power-mad and angry that he was weak in his own estimations. His ego would not allow that to be, so he consolidated his power as Dragon Lord, using the scepter to influence his closest advisors’ minds. He ordered them to find more who could be easily controlled as well. And with that he quickly amassed an army, the likes of which would only be bested in size by the migration flights.

The Lunar Guard had difficulty getting this information out at first, owing to the “curious” but not “threatening” nature of the dragons at first. It was normal for Gristle to have many visitors, it was part of how he measured himself. So the influx of dragons to him was no especially noteworthy. However as the frequency of repeat visitors increased, along with, at first, less than enthusiastic Plus-One’s, who became enamoured of these ideas after leaving the meetings….

The scroll that arrived at The Castle of the Two Sister was hoofed over by a High Security Courier who shredded parts of her wings in the process, never to fly again. The outer scroll wrap said in bold letters, “UEAC”.

“Urgent. Emergency. All Costs.”

This scroll’s cost was her wings.

Princess Luna’s anger was without precedent. That very night she wrapped the dreamscape around him and dragged him in.

She invaded his mind, controlling his dreams fully, placing him into scenario after scenario, lifetimes of experience in just a few minutes’ waking time.

She made him watch his family die.
Watch new dragons be born, live, and them die.
He met each dragon, lived with them, loved some of them, then watched them die.
He saw his Dragonlands expand and contract with political upheavals.
Ponies, hippogryphs, changelings, yaks, sea serpents, frost beasts; all to live around him and die after a pathetically short handful of decades of time with him.
He witnessed moons of wars, of peace, of famine, and prosperity.

Hundreds of moons worth of experiences and feelings, thousands of lives his responsibility to care for and protect, only to ultimately fail so many in his own mind.

Finally, after a full night, Princess Luna, the Mistress of the Dream Realm, released him back into his own mind, screaming awake in blind terror.

She had shown him the reality he was trying to create, and the realization overtook him.

He threw away the sceptre and committed suicide, leaving a lava-filled crater of cracked pillars of stone where all future Dragon Lords have reigned from; reminding them the price of the sceptre and its responsibility.

The dragons never found out why Gristle killed himself.

The Lunar Guard Archive of Arcana has the truth of this event stored for future generations should the need ever come to know of it.

We in the guard do not tell our children the tale of Gristle the Great Mad Drake because we know the truth….

That should the need ever arise, Princess Luna could literally kill someone with a thought.

We also know that She will hold the burden of that memory forever.

Author's Notes:

The tale of Gristle The Great Mad Drake was terrifying to me as I wrote it. The irony, the power, the sacrifice....

Only to realize as I got to the end....

Princess Luna dream raped him.

--and I don't know what to do with this, knowing she's carried this for who-only-known how many moon.

Penumbra

Author's Notes:

I'll have you know that this chapter, though it had been based on a dream I actually had, just did NOT want to come out of me until I'd gotten the NEXT chapter down. So you're getting a twofer here.

Meeting Moon Shadow was one of the best moments of our lives. “Post Cutie Mark School” gathers all of us from around Hollow Shades and helps us learn how we can use our special abilities for ourselves and to help batponies in general.

I had already been there a year before her and doing pretty well; learning to be more physically able to hold up against the flying pressures I’d go through.

Just a glance at her took my breath away.

Took my footing, too.

Good thing I was flying at the time.

We didn’t get to talking for almost a month, but when we did it was like we couldn’t stop. She told me about her family, how she was planning on going to another PCMS closer to home, that her abilities were in the dark but she really loved accounting instead.

And I told her how I dreamt of flying higher and farther than any other batpony, but that my true enjoyment was in writing stories

Moon Shadow and I had gone to the Longest Night Festival, celebrating the Mare in the Moon’s long-fought conquest of the skies before she’d return some of that power back to the sun. The brightly glowing memorial to the Night Princess lit the fairgrounds in a blue-white glow making the yellow and green glowbugs more vivid, while casting shadows beyond the trees and buildings.

Her ability was to hide in the shadows, blending into the darkness, being invisible and inaudible if she regulated her breathing. When she unfurled her wings and closed her eyes you’d be hard-pressed to know she was a wing’s breath away.

“So, what’s your thing, Icarus?”

I could hear the smile on Shadow’s face as she stalked me from inside them somewhere.

She was showing off for me, or more like NOT showing off, since I wasn’t sure where she was. Since her voice came from somewhere in the dark, I knew she was close but not where, so I just answered into the air. “It shows that I want to circle the Mare in the Moon and hold onto her. Would you want her? Just say the word and I'll fly up and pull her down for you.”

To my left I saw something in the black. Blacker than ‘Black’. A living, breathing, strutting, sexy incarnation of the shadow itself was moving towards me. Shadow’s smiling fangs and eyes appeared in the darkness as her wings moved away from her muzzle and settled on her back. “I’ll give you this, you’re smooth, mister. So, how many fillies have you rutted with that line?”

We’d only been together a few weeks, but we were fast friends and something more. Flirting was almost a second language to us already, a game of one-upping each other. “None. But I have an excuse.”

Her mane slid up the side of my cheek as her snout dragged its way up my chin, eyes closed, whispering into my ear before she licked my tuft, “--which is?”

I whispered back just as quietly against her, “...that I’ve never used it before.”

I don’t know which was louder that night; her laugh or her screams into the grass as we rutted until first light.

---

Backhoofing a broodmare’s face while she’s on her back is something that never seems to get old for me. Hearing that “SMACK!”, the grunt of humiliated pain, the needy whimper from the slut helping me break her.

In the privacy of my kitchen I felt like a musical conductor in front of a sexual orchestra.

I wish something like that existed.

“So, what do you think, Fluttercunt? Ready to help me break her?”

The Element of Kindness was next to me, collared, cuffed, wings bagged, flanks branded with the outline of my cutiemark over her own, practically glowing in a blush that reached from her dock to her wing-shoulders. Her throat was so tense her breath couldn’t catch her vocal chords. All she could do was whisper out, “--please!”

In front of me on the kitchen island was The Element of Generosity; horn locked into an inhibitor ring with a blunter on the tip, mascara bleeding down the sides of her face, slobber smearing across her whorse-red lipstick, mane a soaked, crumpled, tangled mess of failed styling products, snot, and drool. Her body was criss-crossed in metal bands no punk-rock frontmare would ever consider wearing - all screwed into the countertop. Only her eyes, mouth, and ears were able to move in any appreciable way.

“PFease! DNo vore. PFease….” Her cheek was so swollen, even her tongue had a hard time making words. “GHAAH!”

“What’s the matter, you thin-skinned, horned skank? You think Master’s going to stop because you begged him to? Remember when he branded me and you ate the screams out of my mouth, begging for more? Now it’s my turn. Master let me pick how to break you and I am going to enjoy this. Payback’s a bitch - and I’m HIS bitch!” Oh, my lovely little broken Fluttercunt. She was a dream come true for me.

Rarity tried blinking the filth out of her vision with only moderate success.

“HRRK! NNN!!!! FPEE! AHHUHHK!”

She wasn’t able to see the ring-gag before my adorable Fluttercunt shoved it into her face, twisting it to seat it in her mouth, and pulled the straps to the back of her head. Her scream was so powerful that slobber-bubbles inflated on her nostrils, even with her mouth wide open.

My Fluttercunt’s voice was dripping with sarcasm and sadism the whole time, like the well-trained pet I’d made her into. “Ohh, I’m sorry, Rarity? Did I catch your hair in the buckle?” She yanked the straps again, pulling the sides deeper into Raricunt’s cheeks, giving her a rictus smile that was screamed through. “At least this time it was on purpose. You had the most lovely singing voice. Master’s challenge will be to take it away from you. Won’t that be fun?”

Rarity’s eyes were wide open in terror, throat grunting at her, pleading at my Fluttercunt not to do this.

With a smile and a condescending pat-pat-SLAP on Rarity’s cheek she turned away and strutted to the next tabletop over. “That’s OK. I’ll have enough fun for the both of us.”

Rarity’s eyes snapped to me, dripping black lines around them from her tears, pinprick small. The slobber in her face gurgled, spraying over her lips and the metal ring, trying to say something, anything, to plead mercy with me.

As if I would change a single thing about to happen.

I leaned in, kissed her nose tenderly, and watched her terrified eyes. “Look at the bright side, my lovely cum dump; I’m not going to brand your flanks. Maybe some other part of you later, but not now.” She panicked at the threat of being branded herself, trying to squirm out of the straps holding her still. Spitting into her mouth was the best idea to shut up her complaints. She coughed after nearly inhaling the glob as it slid against her back teeth. At least she was able to swallow it finally.

Blowing a puff of breath at the back of her throat to induce that reflex probably helped her.

Did I say, “helped”? I meant, “forced”.

The little clip-clops of my Fluttercunt returning was just what the doctor ordered. Her voice was so tender now, soothing, gentle, as she leaned over her patient’s face and looked into her eyes. “Now, Rarity, you’ll want to stay still for this next part. It should really be nurse Red Heart doing this, but since she’s not here....”

Raising her hoof, she showed us what she’d brought over: a syringe with iridescent white fluid swirling within. The needle was already bare of any safety cap, dripping some of the fluid like a tiny cock and pre-cum. I was so glad that my sadistic little animal-fucking doctor was so good at her job. It would make this part of breaking the rape-meat so much easier.

Flutter’s psychotically calm smile sparked Rarity’s survival reflexes again - all her muscles pushed against the straps at the same time attempting “flight”, since any “fight” was a non-starter at every restrained joint. All she could do was watch the fluid drip out of her field of view and feel it land on her neck.

Flutters’ face quickly changed from caring to embarrassed for herself. “Oh! How clumsy of me! Let me clean that up for you, Rarity.” She dipped her head down, slathering her tongue across Rarity’s neck where the drop had landed to lick it up, opened her mouth wide and bit into the fur, trying to claim her like she’d felt her animals dominating herself.

I slapped across the back of her head adding a deep wing-nail scratch across her ear to warn her off. “She’s not yours yet, bitch. Get to work.” How she didn’t drop the syringe was anypony’s guess, but at least there was no worry about causing an infection.

“Nice and still now. This won’t hurt much.” Fluttercunt sounded like she was about to treat one of her baby animals, so gentle. What kept Rarity’s terror levels peaked was where the hoof with the syringe was going….

Right over her ring-gagged mouth.

“GAAAAAHHHKKGKGKGKGKGKG!” Rarity’s complaint was almost literally drowned out by the spittle collecting into the back of her throat again. At least it didn’t make it harder for Fluttercunt to aim the needle through the ring and into the roof of her mouth.

“There we go. See? That didn’t hurt too much, did it?” She lifted her head to look at me, proud of herself. “Maybe Master doesn’t like where the needle is? Maybe he’d like it here instead?” Oh, that little sadistic ball of fun! She pulled and reinserted the needle into Rarity’s palate, so good at the job that she didn’t have to look to see where she’d stuck her soon-to-be broken toy. It was like playing a musical instrument without needing to look at it to get the sounds you want out of it, and Rarity was the instrument this time, gurgling the whole time.

Looking back down at the syringe and the face it was in, Fluttercunt pressed on the plunger, draining the fluid into our toy, explaining it all while Rarity’s voice kept trying to be of any use. “Don’t worry, this isn’t going to hurt at all. The medicine will drain into your face as it affects your mouth, your tongue, and finally down to your vocal cords. And, there! Just about the perfect amount. Maybe Master would like some in her ponut too? Maybe in mine?”

Backhoofing Fluttercunt with a smile was my favorite way to let her know I enjoyed how needy she was. “We’re here to break her, not you. Now tell the cunt what’s happening to her before she figures it out for herself.” Just the thought of this was making my cock drop and start to fill. I love this feeling.

The orange mark on her cheek stood out from the slight red blush glowing in her face as she looked back down again. “Maybe you feel it already. All that fluid is a muscular anesthetic, so your cheeks, tongue, and voice are all going bye-bye for a while.” She leaned down, whispering in Rarity’s ear, just in her field of view, “I hope you know how jealous I am of you. I wanted to be his rape-meat for this, but he wanted to do you first. I told you, I’m going to be a bitch to you.”

There was no way I was going to wait for the fluid to take full effect, so I straddled Rarity’s face, lining myself up to be directly above her, but upside-down. “Here’s how we’re breaking you, cunt.” I flapped my wings once to lift my front hooves, clattering them on the island counter next to the strapped down shoulders, not bothering to look at her face. Her barrel flinched hard, spasmodically trying to breathe. “Bitch is going to line up my cock, and I’m going to throat-fuck you until you’re broken or I can’t dump anymore cum.”

FlutterBitch’s hoof stroked my dripping cock reverently, lining it up with Rarity’s mouth, while her voice was barely even there anymore. “Oh, stop trying to beg for mercy, Rarity. In a few more seconds you won’t be able to do anything except be a good little cock socket for Master.” And then she smirked in the naughtiest, sadistic show of happy I’d seen yet. “Now open wide and say--”

I wasn’t going to wait anymore, so I didn’t. One push and I was in the slut’s mouth, banging against her tongue as it flopped around in her face. I started hitching my flanks, rubbing my cockhead against her lips and the ring and that lifeless tongue. Three's a charm, they say. So one more back-of-the-head slap on Fluttercunt was about right. “I’m in, bitch. Get in place.”

All Rarity could hear was the needy and happy whimper of her yellow-furred friend, then her hooves stepping away, down her body. All she could see were my thighs flexing and my balls swinging at her. Not even close enough for her to inhale them yet.

With my head over her chest I had a full view of her teats and cunt, and my helpful little Fluttercunt. “We’re going to play a little summertime game, Rarity, and bitch is going to help. The game is called…. Now, bitch.”

A very eager and proud Flutterbitch smiled at me and practically dove into Rarity’s crotch, chomping her teeth on the cunt in front of her, all while her eyes were on mine, smiling the whole way. This got one last scream out of Rarity, which was my cue to cram my cock down her throat to stop her. It took a little more work than I thought it should, but looking at those eyes, I knew she’d used a ring with a just-slightly-smaller inner diameter than normal, making my medial ring have to squeeze through before I finished stepping forward, laying my balls on our rape-meat’s shivering nostrils.

“The game is called, ‘How Long Can You Hold Your Breath?’ The winner is the one to stay underwater the longest. In this case, you’re only going to drown on my cock or my cum.” My back hooves skittered and clopped in place a few times, getting my footing so I could pull back slowly, feeling my medial ring get stuck at her mouth. The up-side was I could feel Rarity’s panicked breath as she got room for air to pass. The down-side was I had no simple way to properly punish my Flutterbitch for this little otherwise-anticipated twist.

Without being told, the bitch worked her way up a bit further, again chomping down on Rarity’s teats, gnawing like a little timberwolf on a branch. There was no scream this time, but enough wind along my cock to start cooling it, and with a louder hoof clop I shoved in and kept going until I had no more cock left to give, and my balls found a new holster for them to rest in.

“Break her, Master! Fuck her throat. Drown her so you can do me next. HA-UM!!!” That hungry bitch just went back to biting on her friend’s sensitive bits as hard as she could. Ponies have mostly flat teeth, so those bits were all being crushed flat and ground back and forth as the teeth flexed side to side. This is why I wanted to use that ring gag; how do you get that shot in her face otherwise? And since it’s there already, it’ll just make for a perfect stopper so I can’t pull out too far by accident.

But at this point, pulling out wasn’t at all the issue. I was shoving in, rutting that face and throat as hard as I could, as deep as my own body would let me. “OH! Master! I can see your cock in her throat! Am I going to look like that too? PLEASE make me look like that? I’ll set up a mirror so I can watch too! AUHMM!!!!” And she was back to torturing those teats again.

That mental break was just what I needed. Feeling my cockhead half flared I pulled back against the deep lung suction, not being further than the back of her throat since my ring was trapped in the metal one. “Good night, slag. Time to rut your throat until I’m done and you’re barely alive anymore.”

And that’s just what I started to do. I dropped my head, leaned forward and bit on my bitch’s ear, tasting her blood, while I pounded her friend’s face and throat for my own personal fun.

“Rape her. Fill her. Break her. Break me. Drown us. Please, Master! PLEASE!”

My eyes closed so I could listen, so I could feel - what she was saying to me, to what’s left of her friend, what she wants done, it was making my cock swell almost as much as feeling the convulsions in Rarity’s throat. Because of that shot it wasn’t a gag reflex, it was her body trying to get something, anything, into her burning lungs, while trying to cough out the splatters of drool and pre-cum that were making into her esophagus.

Those evil aquamarine eyes smiled at me again as the bitch’s femcum soaked smile came up. Her voice was loud enough that I knew she was talking to what was left of her friend’s mind, but the thought was just for me. “Next time, I could put a breathing tube down her nose so she can be rutted for hours without her dying on you, Master.”

There was no warning in me to give - I just bottomed out, pushing as hard as I could with my legs, and came down her throat with everything I had, bellowing out my throat against the bitch’s head as her voice panted in my ears with every pump. “Drown her. Break her. Do her. Break Me. Take her. PULL BACK NOW!”

I nearly growled at her, curling my lip up to snarl, and did just that - I pulled my cock back, getting it trapped inside the ring, the flared head scraping all along her throat until it was wedged in place, firing the last dollops of cum directly at the back of her throat, getting inhaled into her lungs, then coughed out all across my cock, her lips, out her nose, and against my balls. She was going to taste and smell my scent for a very long time.

“Master? Are you going to empty the rest in her? You have to wash all that yummy cum into her belly somehow.” Flutterbitch’s ear was mangled, crunched, bleeding from a fang-sized hole punched through it, but her eyes were smiling, her voice needy. She wanted me to go on, to utterly deface the most prim, proper, and pristine saviour of Equestria.

Rarity’s body was barely moving, hardly flinching, but she was breathing at least. Fluttercunt leaned down and bit hard again, making our rape-toy shake and start coughing. She was so good to me, making sure I knew we hadn’t killed her previously pretty friend.

“I like the idea, but I don’t want to piss my bed again.”

Aw! My poor Fluttercunt looked like I’d just kicked one of her puppies. “OK, Master. But remember I want that next time. Please, Master? I’ll even forget I want it and you can get my animals to rape my ass, too. Wouldn’t you like me screaming so much you have to do all this to my throat too?”

I smiled proudly, leaned down, and kissed her lips hard, pulling her in with a wing so she’d feel owned and protected. “Maybe soon, hun.” I half-turned my head to look under my barrel. “Want to see what rape-meat looks like when it’s been broken?”

I knew the answer, so I didn't wait for it. I staggered backwards, pulling my cock free of the metal ring until I could drag the crown across her nose, smearing snot, cum, and drool up her face. My cock dropped and splattered fluids off the end as I took a few steps back.

Rape-Meat was an absolute travesty; cum and spit went everywhere on her face, in her ears, down her mane, across her neck, sealing her eyes closed, and bubbling out her nose. Her makeup was beyond trashed with her lipstick smeared from chin to halfway up her snout.

I bet it would be covering the base of my cock, too.

You would have thought it was time for buffet brunch. Fluttercunt started at the soiled neck, kissing, licking, and biting the way she wasn’t allowed to before. She might be timid in her real life, but with me that all went out the window. She was a depraved, limitless cumsponge, wanting to do anything to make me proud. Since she was so busy cleaning what was left of her friend, I used her mane to wipe my cock clean. “Thank you, pet. Make sure you’re both ready for next time, hmm?”

Fluttercunt just smiled at me, whispering in Rarity’s ear, “You think I’m a bitch now, wait ‘til Master takes you the way he wants to. I want to see your face redder and more swollen than mine. And your ass? It’s going to drip Master’s cum all night after.”

---

Princess Luna brought herself out of the dream realms, panting in distress, trying to come to grips with what she’d witnessed.

The depravity. The decadence. The sadistic joy she saw.

It made so little sense!

She climbed out of bed, illuminating the room with her magic. Even with the Moon casting its light to the countryside, she still needed a little more to see the parchment she needed. Sitting at her desk, she levitated over a quill and began her missive.

Dear Princess….

Eclipse

I hurt everywhere. I was so tired. My brain wouldn’t work.

“..muhh” was all I could get out of my throat.

“Nurse, he’s waking up.”

That voice was so loud my ears slammed back down… which only got my eyes to crinkle tight in pain.

Which got another little grunt out of me in discomfort.

At least the approaching hoof steps were slightly muffled and the voice that came with them was gentler. “Good morning, mister Icarus. Don’t try to move or talk yet. I’m nurse Spring Well and you’re in the Guard Reserve Infirmary. You’ve had quite the adventure. The doctor is on the way to speak with you, and your parents will be in shortly after.”

My mouth was dry. My lips were dry. My throat was dry…. Even trying to open my eyes felt like there was glue sticking between my eyelids. The best I could get out of my lips was, “--mwuh hep’n?”

It made me feel safer to hear the smile in Spring Well‘s voice. “ ‘What happened’ is something the doctor will talk with you about. What I can say is, congratulations on getting your cutie mark.”

“So! Mister Icarus! What Are You Doing In My Hospital Today?”

I knew I was laying on a bed, but I could swear the volume from that voice spun me in space. All I could do was scrunch my nose and eyes tighter - which hurt…

--which caused another slight grunt in pain.

--which caused me to flinch my shoulders, making me feel my wings hurting too.

I guess that means I still have them, right?

“A little quieter, please, Doctor. He’s still coming around.”

I wished I could thank Spring right then. Can’t my nurse be my doctor now?

“Right! Sorry. Near the end of my shift. I’m a little tired myself. Mister Icarus, I’m Xanshi Go, the resident doctor on duty right now. Can you hear me alright?”

Best I could do was nod a little. Even that hurt. Taking my attention from my nurse to my doctor hurt. How did I even hurt my brain like this?

“Ok. We’ll try not to make you move until we need to. Mister Icarus, you suffered something called, ‘Cutiemark Blackout’. It’s a rare condition that happens when somepony taps into their cutiemark power too much and overdrawns on it. Basically you tapped into your magical ability and tried to use more than you had inside while flying. Fortunately the security detail spotted you and kept you from being in worse shape than you are now.”

I was able to open one eye just a sliver to look. Even with the fuzziness I could finally see Nurse Spring sitting next to me, Doctor Xanshi was close to my rear hooves, reading from some notes. Past both of them I could make out what I could only guess was the side of a Reserve Guard at the door, standing at attention facing the doorway.

It was more the colours of the uniform that tipped me off than anything else. It was just a blurry blob of blue and purple hulking blurriness.

My mom is going to kill me.

“Mister Spring, how’s he doing so far?”

“He seems reasonably stable, Miss Go. Water and light snacks until his parents arrive?” I could hear how many buttons Spring was pushing back on. It hurt to smirk, but I did it anyway. He slyly winked back at me.

“Mmmmm…” Water sounded really good right about now. Maybe with some sap sweet mixed in. Oh, I could really go for something that didn’t hurt to do. Swallowing won’t hurt, right?

I saw the edge of the cup slide under my cheek and against my lips. “Take it nice and easy, Mister Icarus. Take a very small sip, hold it in your mouth for one breath before swallowing. That’s it, just like that. Good. Nice and slow.”

Wasn’t sweet, but it’s water. That’s good enough.

And it didn’t hurt. So, that’s good, right?

As she turned to leave the doctor made a few quill strokes on my file without looking up. “About right. And Mister Icarus? We’ll make sure the Cutiemark Councellor Services will be available to talk with you once you’re ready. Don’t want you overdrawing your powers while flying again, hmm? I’ll make one more check in on you just before I leave and your parents should be arriving any minute now.”

With Doctor Go out of the way I could see the doorway a little better and I didn’t like what I saw, fuzzy as it still was; TWO Guard-Coloured Blobs flanked the doorway, stock-still.

“I suppose introductions are in order. On the left is Commander Pipistrelle Dawn…”

The mass of colour moved, giving what I could only guess was a formal Snap-To Wing Salute at the mention of her name.

“-- and on the right is Commander Obsidian Nebula.”

She gave the same salute, only left-hoofed, making them a matched, mirrored pair of fuzzy formal, uniformed blobs. And as if they were just that, they released the salute and went back to their previous sentinel pose in perfect synchronicity. Spring snorted and shook his head with a smirk on his face. “They’re just showing off for you. They brought you in and have been on watch for a full night and day. Something about you being their responsibility now. When you’re ready we’ll explain what happ--”

And right then my eyes opened hard! I heard the galloping hoofbeats of my parents down the hall, approaching fast. The guards filled the doorway so fast I flinched in surprise. With their wings back, heads down, and the most clear voices I’d ever heard they ordered simultaneously, “Back. Now.”

My ears slammed back on my head, giving me another grunt of pain and an understanding nod from Spring. How in Tartarus do even the insides of my ears hurt? Oh, mom was going to kill me.

All my life my parents were like a force of nature to me. To hear their hoofbeats come to a staggering stop was weird. I knew the guards were at the door, but I never considered they’d be able to stop my mom and dad!

“Mmm… ‘hrents” was the best I could mumble out for Spring to hear.

His eyes never left me, watching me drink, and he nodded. Without turning his head or speaking loud enough to hurt my ears, thank Luna for that, his voice came out in a way that was definitely All Military. “Commanders, that’s the parents. Let them pass.”

As soon as the purple-blue blobs left the doorway dad and mom trotted in, getting less fuzzy the closer they got. At least Spring greeted them for me, at a volume that didn’t hurt. “I’m Nurse Spring Well. Mister Icarus here experienced ‘Cutiemark Blackout’ the other night while flying--”

“But, that’s a foalhood disease, isn’t it?” Oh, mom. Always with the worry for me overriding any concepts of propriety or authority.

At least Spring had the professionalism to deal with her initial worry before getting back to the subject at hoof…. me. Mentally I winced at that and was pleasantly surprised that it didn’t hurt. “Cutiemark Blackout can happen at any age. Near as we can tell he overtapped his ability while his cutiemark was manifesting. Those two guards rescued him from the skies before…”

I didn’t need my eyes to hear how pale my father’s face went, I could hear it in his voice. “--before he could crash. Icarus, are you hurt?” His hoof on my ankle didn’t hurt. Maybe I didn’t hurt all of me.

Mom’s hoof on my shoulder belayed that idea and I scrunched my eyes a little. “Mmhmm. Bedder. Tired.” The water was helping me talk and see better. Both their eyes were worried and as tired as I felt. I doubt they’d slept a wink all day.

After hearing how Nurse Spring was before, I could tell he was in All Business Mode now. “I know you’d like to be in here with your colt, but for now we need to get him some more water and food. The doctor was just here and she’ll be back to check just before her shift ends. Let’s give him an hour or so to finish waking up. I’ll take you to the commissary to have something to eat while we wait. OK?”

Spring Well was so good with my parents. I was really impressed. I wonder how many parents come through here that he’d be this good at wrangling them.

“Mom and I will be close by, Icarus. Just rest. Do what the nurses tell you to and we’ll come back in when you wake up again, ok?” Dad, ever the pragmatist. I could tell he was talking more to mom than me. “I’m sorry, too. Before we go… Would you like to show us your ‘mark?”

My cutiemark? I didn’t realize that I hadn’t even seen it myself, yet.

Author's Notes:

The Real Life story about this cutie mark is, it's accidentally based off the Apollo 8 Mission Patch from NASA. Once I realized what I had done, Icarus' bio and reason for being came to be in my head.

Guilt

Acquiring cutie marks isn’t usually a traumatic moment; Earth and Unicorn ponies will usually have theirs manifest during otherwise safe tasks.

We fliers tend to be a little more dramatic, especially when our ability is in something related to flight.

After Princess Luna became the Mare in the Moon, Hollow Shades was always under surveillance, always watching for anycreature that might accidentally find us and tell others about the hidden race of batponies.

Commanders Pipistrelle Dawn and Obsidian Nebula of the Lunar Guard Reserve were on flight duty that night, watching over our skies.

Their official incident report said they, “saw something making ‘All-Haste-Up’, with a triple-streak wake behind. Per protocol we broke wingmate formation: senior wing to investigate the interest, wingmate to warn the ground civilians and alert the Commander on Duty to direct all available wings to Active Alert Launch.”

Just as they reported, Pipistrelle dove down, screeching her alarm to the innocents below, making all-gravity-haste to the Reserves bunker, while Obsidian opened up her power, angled upwards, and took chase.

I was still climbing, trying to push through my untrained muscles’ pain and my tear-filled eyesight. My form was all wrong, my energy reserves almost tapped out already, barely breathing right. What I was breathing felt like ice crystals in my throat, but I wasn’t going to stop.

I was fueled by pure emotion by this point.

Sadness. Anger. Shame….

Commander Obsidian said I looked like I was a foal trying to get airborne for the first time. How did she put it? “You looked like you were balanced on your tail, trying to gallop straight up a wall that wasn’t there.”

I was trying to get to Luna’s Moon.

It was what I wanted.

What I needed to do.

What she needed me to do for her.

Since I had a serious head-start on Obsidian, she was having a hard time keeping me in sight, instead following my tail streak. By the time she’d gotten directly under me, my Cutie Mark power activated, bathing me in light, making it child’s play to spot me against the night’s sky as I climbed just a little further.

Just a little bit further….

Next I knew I was in the infirmary, grunting at everything that hurt, and blue and purple blobs at the door.

Well, they weren’t blobs now. The water helped my eyes to focus I guess. With my parents and nurse Well Spring out of the room, they closed the door gently, locked it with a little “tik-clack”, and faced me.

Ok. THAT got my attention.

“Welcome back to Ground Level, Icarus. I’m Commander Pipistrelle, this is Commander Obsidian. We’re from the LGR. We’d like to talk with you a little bit about what happened the other night.”

---

“What do you mean, this is your fault?!”

“I can assure you both, his condition isn’t anyone’s ‘fault’.”

“I told him he shouldn’t follow his heart.”

“He’s got my temperament; he’ll do whatever his deepest desires drive him to. That’s why you loved me, isn’t it?”

“No matter how you’ve raised him, we’ll have the Cutiemark Counselling Service talk to him and see what help he’ll need adjusting to--”

“What do you think his means?”

“That he’ll wrap the moonlight? Maybe he’ll become a telescope engineer?”

“OH! That would be so specialized. How will he find fulfillment here without materials to work with?”

“Excuse me, but… That’s going to be for Icarus to decide for himself with the CCS rep.”

“Excuse me, but you’re talking about our foal!”

“--who is now legally able to make choices for himself regarding his cutiemark and his use of it.”

“......”

“......”

“...he’s right.”

“I KNOW! ...I know. I just… It’s just so sudden.”

“...I know.”

“I’ll ask if someone from the CCS can speak with you both too. This is as much an adjustment for Icarus as it will be for you both. Ok?”

“....”

“...ok.”

“.....”

“...”

“...ok.”

“Ok.”

---

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU’RE JOINING THE RESERVE?!”

My ears slammed back on my head trying to be protected from the power of my father’s voice.

That didn’t hurt this time, so, that’s a plus, I guess.

“Dad, it’s OK. I talked it over with the commanders while you were gone. They’re offering me the chance to train with them a few hours every weekend while I’m at Post Cutie Mark School. It won’t cost anything and I’m not joining to be part of the armed force. They’re going to teach me the behind-the-scenes work; logistics and stuff. Maybe even some flight training.”

Oh, but my mom was not having this at all. Her back hoof lifted and pointed at the doorway’s guard detail, completely disrespectfully. “THEY spoke to you, did they? Those two guards spoke to you while we were out of the room and you were still waking up?”

I was mortified.

How Commander Pipistrelle kept her cool I still have no idea to this day. “The offer is just that, an offer to help him grow and learn. Nothing more. We’re not going to conscript him into the Reserve. And, respectfully, he’s of age now to make his own choices about that.”

“There’s got to be something you see in him. What’s in it for you all?” Dad was the business thinker - wondering who benefited and how. His skeptically furrowed brow became smooth as his eyebrows jumped at the answer.

“He outflew me for a few seconds. Somepony with that natural flight talent can’t possibly be given the flying form and strength training he’ll need at the PCMS. We can give that to him. No strings.”

Mom couldn’t say anything, considering her jaw was stuck open while she was trying to process what’s gone on behind her back. At least dad could. “But he won’t be in any danger, right?” Again, always the one who thought about Cost and Benefits.

Dad’s attention was on the guards, mom’s was on me, so it was up to me to make her comfortable. “Mom, it’s OK! It’s a couple hours any free weekends I have. It’s going to be fine. Really. It’s not like I’m going to….”

---

“...broke my wing. It was a complete fluke and no one could have predicted it. I made a too-fast turn in the air, felt it go, and I landed in the lake.

The staff physicians are healing me and it’ll take about a week to be solid again. I’ll be back home as soon as they give me the go-ahead. I know you’ll want to come to the barracks, but please don’t. I’ll be sleeping more than anything while they work me over and all you’ll do is lose sleep while I feel guiltier than I already do.

I’ll write another scroll to let you know how things are going.
Please know I love you.
Your apparently accident-prone stallion;
Icarus.”

I think this was the worst thing I could ever do, what I promised on our wedding day seven moons ago I would never do.

I lied to my mare.

I looked up from the scroll with tears just bubbling on my eyeballs. My flight instructor, Commander Pipistrel, looked back professionally. “Please promise me, this is going to be worth it?” I whispered.

She nodded slowly and answered, “Yes. --if you’re strong enough.”

I closed my eyes and concentrated on my cutie mark, feeling it in my heart and nodded back. “I can write the next scroll after we get back. One more test flight. Ok?”

“...Ok.”

---

Before the end of that week my heart’s fondest desire and worst ache happened.

After a thousand Moons, Princess Luna escaped her imprisonment and returned to the Castle of the Two Sisters. The dark force that held her was stripped away by the fabled Elements of Harmony, wielded by one of Celestia’s pupils and some common citizens from Ponyville.

My cutiemark ability, to circle the Mare in the Moon and return her to us, was now useless.

I was inconsolable, livid, empty. Pipestrelle was not helping any.

“What do you mean, ‘a gift card writer’?! What makes you think THAT’s a job I want?! I trusted you! I lied to my mare about my wing! Everything I’ve ever trained for, ever been meant for, is gone. And you want to offer me a job Writing Cards?! What the buck are you even TALKING about?!”

If there was anything I hated in her, it was her always unflappable face.

Did she even feel emotions? Could she even fathom what’s happened to me? What’s been taken away?

“I can’t explain it more now. I just need you to trust me one more time. None of this will be in vain. You can still serve the Princess in a way few others ever could.”

---

I graduated from the Reserve’s Academy two years later, personally congratulated by Princess Luna herself, and went to work in the Greeting Card Office in Canterlot. Part of the cover story was that the Reserves were responsible for my having been injured in training, so they owed it to me to help make sure I had a good living that wouldn’t injure me again.

It’s amazing how ponies look at you when you tell them, “Yeah, I’m helping promote trade and travel for the Crown by creating a line of Greeting Cards for the Royal Post to deliver! Oh, no. I don’t deliver them myself. Broke my wing once, you know….”

There’s a certain look others give you when you’re a lame flier. Something between sympathy and pity. The only reason I was able to handle it was that I was warned it would happen.

That and I knew they were upset at the made-up Icarus, not the real one.

Still, it was humiliating when we told my parents over dinner. I could see the surprise in their faces and heard the disappointment in their voices. But their words were never disapproving, only encouraging.

Moon Shadow dealt with it the same way she dealt with the cover story about my wing - concern that I was ok, worry that I was upset that my work prospects were limited now, and relieved that I’d have probably the safest possible job in all the military ranks.

But tonight, I was training.

--again.

“This time, we’ll be doing long-distance, high-altitude gliding. This is likely going to be the hardest part for you so far. The air is thin and cold, your wings will feel like they’re burning, and your lungs will want to inhale faster, which will chill your insides. You’ll get tired and feel like you’re going to pass out. We’re going to go over all the things you can do to keep your head awake, your wings out, and your body alive. Ready?”

---

“You can’t die, Moon Shadow! You’re not supposed to die before us! Foals aren’t supposed to die before their parents!”

My mother was at Shadow’s side with me in the Critical Care Ward - ironically two halls away from where I had been. Where my life had, in a way started.

Shadow’s was ending.

“Mom. Stop that!”

The doctors had found Shadow’s tumors a little over a year ago and treated her well. She fought this disease hoof and tooth the whole time, never losing her will to win. Even when her mane was falling out in patches, she kept right on doing what she could - walking, gliding, trotting, enjoying time together with me.

With both the real and fake me.

Well Spring was the Head Nurse on Duty now. He remembered me, was happy to see me again, but had told me the truth.

My Shadow wasn’t going to survive the day.

Spring turned his head so I couldn’t see his lips and whispered in my mom’s ear. She blinked, tears running down her face, and nodded quickly. “Ok”, she whispered to him. “Icarus, we’ll be outside. I love you both.”

Well Spring looked at me with sad, regretful eyes, leading my mom out of the room.

The door closed behind them with a little “tik-clack”.

That left just the two of us.

The two of us and the medical equipment around her bed.

They were all quiet.

Shadow was quiet.

I was screaming inside my head at something that could never hear me.

Threatening something that would never fight me.

Disbelieving a reality that would never obey me.

She was gone.

My “One”. The one who I trusted everything in.

The One I promised I would do anything for, fight anything for, defend against everything for….

She died, next to me. Laid on the bed, covered with a sheet to her chest.

The same place my life truly started, my life truly felt like it’d ended.

I couldn’t save Princess Luna; my cutiemark power was useless. That part of my life had been taken away.

I couldn’t save my Moon Shadow; no pony could. That part of my life was ripped away.

...and she died believing the fake me was the real me.

She trusted in me, and I had lied to her.

--lied to everyone who knew me about who I was.

Was there any worth to my life now?

My crushed heart and spirit….

My throat hurt so badly.

I could just die right now, leaning over her.

I felt it. I knew I could.

I could just give up the will to live and join her in the abyss.

Not exactly “suicide”, right?

Married ponies had been known to die of a Broken Heart before, right?

I could just….

-- just…

...let go.

“Good night, my Shadow. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. Please, dream of me.”

My heart broke.

My mind broke.

My will broke.

My spirit broke.

I'd failed her.

“...may Luna watch over you.”

Gravity Assist

“Flying is Optional. Landing is Mandatory.
Training is what lets you talk about your landings.”

Training for long-distance high-altitude gliding is both dangerous and demanding. Very few trainees in the Reserve are able to handle all that goes into making somepony bear the quiet icy-cold air so high above the clouds. It’s hard to explain how it feels to have your wings go numb and have to trust your muscle memory to keep you in the air.

It’s like trying to trot on a leg after sleeping on it wrong.

Except you’re in the sky, FAR above the ground or even a cloud…

And if you trip….

Well…

One of the trainee mares “landed” during a training flight.

That service was the first time I had been issued a dress uniform by the Quartermare.

Part of the training was, very specifically, Launch Training - gaining as much power from our initial wing strokes to get to altitude and conserve our strength for the glide time. Joining the class the first time was a little intimidating for me, watching these trainees concentrate on the night sky and kick up a dust cloud while their wingtips made little scratches in the grass. They were athletes in my eyes. Coiled powerhouses under a body that gave no clue how strong they really were.

Commanders Pipestrelle and Obsidian walked me outside the administrative offices and to the grass-covered diamond-shaped training fields a good trot away. It was governed over by one of the most knowledgeable fliers in the Reserves; somepony that knew all the tricks, all the science, and the names and abilities of every trainee and officer he’d ever flown with.

He was facing away from us, as big and powerful a batpony as I’d seen. His head was angled up but not moving, obviously watching the half-dozen fliers either launching, hard bank-turning to return, or actively emergency-landing on the landing circles to the right or left. It was a figure-eight military ballet in the skies.

About half-way to the active field, I had a weird feeling crawling up my spine, like something was wrong. It took me a few seconds to realize that their hoof beats had synchronized into a formal march-trot and that I had joined in the cadence automatically… except on the wrong hoof.

One foalhood skip-pace later and we sounded like one approaching batpony.

Another piece of Reserve Training ingrained in me, I guess.

We slowed and stopped a more-than-respectful five wings away from the rear of the field trainer; a lot farther away than I would have thought we needed to be. My escorts stomped once, twice, then performed a formal salute with Obsidian speaking for us. “Captain Oberth, Sir? Commanders Obsidian and Pipestrelle reporting. We have a trainee for you.”

He didn’t turn around. Didn’t salute. Didn’t even flick an ear to acknowledge us at all. His head just kept where it was, snout pointed just above the horizon, keeping a watch over his field.

All I could do was just stand there and wait while the trainees on the field kept at it - launching for the Target Point ahead, banking hard to left or right, aiming for the Landing Point opposite their turn, landing hard, trotting back to the Launch Point, and doing it again.

It took seven circuits before one mare stumbled on landing and fell over.

I could see the Captain’s chest inflate with a breath before he called out in a voice clear as a bell and sharp as a knife, “Flight - Land! Cooldown Trot Course! Crystal Formation! Showers And Off Duty!”

I was shocked to see the air cleared of fliers before he was half-done speaking and a collective ground-level reply of, “SO ORDERED, CAPTAIN!” called out.

The team’s breathing was almost as loud as their parade-stepping hoof beats as they marched into the Crystal Formation for the cooldown run: One in the front, a box of four behind, and one at the rear. Seen from above they’d look like two triangles pointed in opposite directions, with a wing and-a-half space between them. In this formation, should an emergency come up, both front and rear triplets could launch as their own flight wing, with the points being the flight leader.

The Captain called out before they set off, “Violet. Infirmary After Cooldown. Flight Dismissed.”

The Lead Point trainee stiffened her neck a little and answered loudly, “So Ordered, Captain! Flight, TROT!” And off they trotted, headed around the field.

“Trainee. What’s Your Name.”

I have never understood how anypony could ask a question and make it a command instead, but the Captain did. “Icarus, sir.”

Obsidian followed immediately with, “he’s not an official Guardspony, Sir.”

The Captain’s head cocked slightly to the right with an ear flick. The next sounds I heard were slower, deeper, like an avalanche about to let loose. “Commander… Explain To Me Why You Brought A Non-Guard To My Training Field.”

“So Ordered, Captain” both my escorts answered back, just like the team had before.

Come to think about it, they made great time to the outer perimeter of the field. Strong legs and wings. Must have been practicing for a long time. Be really nice to be with them right about now.

“Icarus, take the Launch Point facing the Far Target Point.” Obsidian’s voice was a shock to me. So far I hadn’t heard her formal command voice, but there it was.

I nodded and lifted a hoof. “So ordered, Comma--”

“You’re Not A Guardspony. You Don’t Answer Like That. Take The Point.”

The Captain’s voice never changed in volume the whole time, but there was a quality that made me realize he was expecting to have his time wasted and was not happy about it. Without saying anything more I walked around his left flank, keeping the ground mark center in my vision. I centered, flank pointed right at the Captain and Commanders, snout aimed for the opposite marker and took a long breath.

Behind and to my left I heard Obsidian’s voice the way she normally spoke to me; conversational and calm. “Just like that first night. Find your center, find your target. Feel your cutiemark power and launch as hard as you feel you can safely.”

I nodded slowly, taking a few long breaths, closed my eyes, dipped my chest down and reached out. I could feel the breeze, hear the trees far away enough to be safe, the breaths of the three guardsponies behind me….

And the Mare in the Moon’s hum above us all.

It’s like a rustling of dew-covered grass being stroked by a hoof walking through it. Like a disturbed covering of thin snow on the ground. It’s both something I could notice with a beauty all its own, and a disturbed point in an otherwise smooth environment.

My head tilted up a little, eyes opened, focused on Luna through the tears that swept down my face. My wings locked into place out and up to my ears, my rear right hoof pressed a stone into the dirt to smooth out its placement.

My throat tightened, my screech erupted, my wingtips missed the ground as my body streaked nearly straight up, leaving a magical blue-purple trail behind.

My cheeks were dry before my first wing beat finished. My screech was shoved back into my throat with the wind slamming into my face.

In my mind I was an arrow, aiming for the target it was being pulled into.

The moon was my goal, Luna my focus, and the two of us were all that mattered now.

No! There was something else. Not Luna right now. Back on the ground.

They wanted me to show off my launch, not how high I could fly.

I stopped pushing into the wall of air at my snout and let my speed bleed off as I started my glide up and over the top of the arc. Banking gently and looking down I was a little surprised at just how high I was already! The ground was obscured by a haze of light below me, but I could still see the training grounds.

I mean… Kinda? It was so far down and this haze was so weird! Almost like it was fog, except glowing like it was magical with all kinds of colours in it.

My trip down took some time since I was trying to be safe by gliding a lazy oval descent pattern. Eventually I made it to the level the other trainees had reached, took a left-hoof turn and landed at the Target Point I was aimed at to start.

I turned and saw they were all talking, the Commanders no longer saluting. As I trotted over they turned to me, the Captain being the only one to speak. “How Do You Feel And What Did You See.”

I wasn’t intimidated anymore. I wasn’t in awe of him. I was so thrilled with what I’d just experienced! “Thank you, Captain. It was beautiful up there! I think I’m OK, but when I looked down at the field I saw a rainbow glow. Maybe I saw a layer of magic over the field? I flew through it as I was coming back down-”

“Cirrus Cloud Layer Reflecting And Refracting Luna’s Moonshine” the Captain interrupted.

“Sir,” Obsidian spoke up. “He’s here so we can give him proper flight training that the PCMS can’t, on a part-time basis; any available weekends he has.”

Captain Oberth looked at the Commander with scorn, posing a sneearing question, “Part. Time. Commander.”

She held her head up formally. “Yes, Captain.”

The Captain turned and stepped to the Launch Point, stooping down to look closer at the ground. I only got as much as a breath in to ask what was going on before Pipestrelle’s wingtip smacked my tail just hard enough to get my attention. I flinched, looked over to her and she gave me a shake of the head, indicating not to say anything.

“Icarus. Stand In Front Of Me.”

I saw both my escorts look at each other and hold an instant, silent conversation with their eyes that would have taken minutes with their voices to explain it to anyone else. They looked at me, nodded, and looked back at the Captain as I stepped around.

“Describe The Launch Point. Use As Much Detail As You Think I Want.”

….ho, kay….

“Well, it’s an oblong, round painting in the grass, about one-wing long and half a wing wide, pointed at the Target Point behind me. There’s four patches inside the marking where my hooves fit into and some scratches outside and into the ring with a few worms crawling out of them. I see you and the Commanders ahead of me and I smell the fresh dirt between us from the scratches, I think.”

“Show Us Your Wings. Tips Up. Commanders. Attend.”

His voice through all this was calm, like everything he said was the most basic of facts that shouldn’t be ignored and couldn’t be argued with. The Commanders flanked him as I extended my wings and flipped them upside down.

“Commanders. What DON’T You See.”

Obsidian and Pipestrelle leaned down a bit, looking at my wing claws and the ground for barely two breaths before they returned to a formal stance with just a slight proud smirk on their muzzles.

“He’s clean, Sir.”

“No marks, Sir.”

The Captain stood back up, looked at me, but was obviously not talking to me. “Provisional Flight Training Is Granted For Trainee Icarus.”

Obsidian blinked hard enough for me to hear it. “Captain? He’s no--”

The Captain turned his head a quarter to his left, putting his profile in Obsidian’s sight. As if that wasn’t intimidating enough his voice slowed to a crawl, thrumbling out of his throat, coiled like a mantacore’s tail ready to rip someone apart.

“I. Said. ‘Trainee’. ’Icarus’. Are. Your. Ears. Working. COM-MAN-DER.”

Obsidian answered with her face blanching, “SO ORDERED, SIR!” A bead of fear sweat fell off her ear and her eyes were wide with pin-prick sized pupils.

She was terrified! They BOTH were

I was too surprised to be.

“‘Provisional’ Status Means You’re Here To Prove You’re Worth Our Time To Train You. If You Don’t Show You’re Taking These Duties Seriously-”

“I will, Captain!”

The Commanders’ eyes nearly bugged out of their heads at my outburst! Mine almost joined them! I didn’t just do that, did I?

Oh, Sweet Merciful Majesty, I did!

As slowly as he’d turned to face his left before, he turned back and glowered down at me, an eyebrow raised. I could read everything in his face. I felt as if any words he might say would be an abomination crawling its way out of his mouth intent to slit my throat open and kill me where I stood. I’d be the shortest-termed trainee ever.

“That’s. Your. One.” With that the Captain turned right to exit the field, walking off to the administration building in the distance.

“See Q For A Flight Suit. Then Get Me A Trainee Schedule.” Even facing away his voice was as clear as if he was right in front of us again.

The Commanders replied in one voice, “SO ORDERED, CAPTAIN!”

Captain Oberth, a walking wall of insurmountable power, barely a dozen steps away, stopped dead in his tracks. His head raised as his ears swiveled back, listening. Waiting. Annoyed at having to waste his time waiting.

The Commanders quickly looked at me and nodded, almost frantically.

--oh!

“As… ordered, Captain?”

Obsidian Scrunched up her face HARD. Pippistrelle literally face-hoofed.

With a derisive (*SNORT*) Captain Oberth set off again.

Author's Notes:

Yes, this chapter has taken a bit longer to write than I would have liked, but I've been getting some good info that will help my understanding of how the Royal Guards work....

--and how to get where we're going.

ECHOES

“Look… it’s almost daylight. I’m tired and in heat so just rut me so I can get to sleep.”

My Moon Shadow had a way with words while we laid in bed, sharing breath, sharing warmth, sharing a dream. Her left eye cracked open to give me a look that meant…

I couldn’t exactly tell, really. My right eye was barely open and the lashes gave everything a slatted broken look. “So, you want me to wake up enough to drop my cock, get you nice and creamy, rail you into the pillows, blow my load deep in you… just so you can get to sleep tonight?”

Moon Shadow, that sly slut of mine, just hunched her body a few times, turning away as she grunted in annoyance with the sheets. A few grunts and moans had her on her back, then facing away from me. Her tail swatted past my chin and over her hip as she murmured, “Here’s your big chance to have your way with me. Don’t need to drug me this time - just have at me, mister big-shot Lunar Guard. You know how much I love a stallion in uniform.”

My forehoof clapped her flank, and slid around her hip, leaving a darkened ring around her cutiemark. “And what about Big Bad Guards who are out of uniform?” I pulled us closer together, my cock already dropping and sliding against her curves, leaving a thin trail as it lengthened.

“Hate ‘em”, she grumbled. “No where to keep hoof cuffs so what’s the point? And speaking of points; is that a nightstick in my plot or are you just hap-SWEETMERCIFULLUNA! YOU BUCKING STABBED ME!”

I leaned over, biting high on her neck, frothing into her mane while I hunched my hips so hard that she was right; I stabbed her with my cock hard as I could, as deep into her needy cunt as I could give. It was perfect for what we wanted; I’m just thick enough around for her fun, but just slightly too long for her to take easily or comfortably. This time it was all about hammering her from the inside to punish her for making fun of me.

And every grunt with every hunch into her flung spittle across her mane, her neck, her shoulder while my teeth held her down painfully, possessively. Snarling my lips back against my teeth I could only just barely get out, “Rut you, rail you, dump in you so YOU can sleep, you buckin’ needy bitch in heat? This what you wanted? You want the whole town to hear you getting ridden hoping they get a turn?”

“OH! You buckin’ son of aHHHHARGH!”

My teeth chomped in deeper, wrenching her head up and back by the muscles as they tensed up in pain. Her voice jumped too, breath breaking out of her throat as my cock’s face slapped into the top of her cunt. OH, that sound let me know I was doing things just right, but to make things better…

“That bucking hurts yo–HEPH!!”

One way to shut that complaining slut up was to force the air out of her from the inside. But now the trick was to keep the air out, and wrapping my forelegs around her neck and pulling her into my mouth kept her lungs mostly empty finally. The only complaining she could do now was grunting, and only just barely that. At least one of us could still get a word in edgewise. “Shew… shud… yer… mouph… WHORSE!”

OH! Now, that did it! NOW we were in a fight for control over the morning. She was bucking at me, trying to get my cock out of her guts and her neck out of my teeth but I already had a massive advantage: I could breathe. I used that, growling and drooling into her mane and I hissed in her pelt, “Cum drunk little whorse. Only married you so I don’t have to pay for sex. What’s the matter, little cum sponge? Getting tired? Does it hurt when I do THIS!”

I punched my cock’s face hard into the roof of her cunt over and over again, making me wince with how short she was inside. The trailing off wheezing whinnies of pain she got through her throat let me know I was doing perfectly, forcing the last of her breath out and keeping it there.

“Aww! I should invite everyone over to watch you pass out. You want that, slut? Want to be watched? How about we breed you while you’re out cold? I’ll hold a raffle, maybe share some bits with you. C’mon slut - tell me not to.”

I could only just barely see Moon Shadow’s eye over her cheek. Her lashes were clumped together with tears and her focus was nowhere, the iris a razor-thin line bordering her pupil, as open as it could be in terror. Her mouth was open, slack and useless, trying to get a breath in. And her tongue was flopping against her black lips, a sickly, unhealthy purple.

The way her neck shivered, her head trying to toss reflexively from lack of air instead of her fighting, this was the point I was getting her to. I shoved my hips in, speared my cock flare against the base of her cervix, unleashing my cum into it and loosened my forelegs around her throat.

Her body reflexively BREATHED! Wheezing the live-giving air into her lungs, almost whistling past her vocal cords it was so fast!

WHEEZE!

WHEEZE.

Wheeze…

Peese…

Beeps…

Beep… Beep… Beep.. Beep.

“You can’t die, Moon Shadow! You’re not supposed to die before us! Foals aren’t supposed to die before their parents!”

My mother was at Shadow’s side with me in the Critical Care Ward - ironically two halls away from where I had been. Where my life had, in a way started.

Shadow’s was ending.

“Mom. S–!”

I flailed out of bed, terrified out of my dream! Drool on my muzzle, my cock drooping and retracting, my eyes looking around in terror!

I could only just barely breathe. I couldn’t move. Tears were streaked down my face, raining on my hoof.

I wasn’t at the Critical Care Ward.

“...sweet merciful Luna,” I whispered.

Moon Shadow wasn’t dying next to me.

“...please…”

The picture of Shadow and me on the table had a sliver of daybreak’s light on it, across our cheeks.

My throat tightened, strangling my heart enough that each beat was another lash of punishment through my skull.

I was and wasn’t in that room again.

“--please… don’t let me live through that again.”

Author's Notes:

I know it's been a long time since I last wrote... sorry.

I also know there will be a non-zero number of cloppers who are going to be very upset with me / this chapter... half-sorry.

But I needed to write while the iron was hot, even if it's far more "surface" than I would have liked.

Consort

“But… Auntie Luna, why bring this to me if it’s about one of your guards.”

In Canterlot Castle, there are many rooms for many uses. This evening a special conference room was in use - one typically used for meetings between the highest of rulers or dignitaries and the Equestrian crown. Tonight two of the three alicorns of the realm occupy the room - each casting a slight magical wave outwards, ensuring no distractions or eavesdropping during their conference. The room was large, allowing for an equally-large, ornately constructed table that they both sat at, close together, sharing tea as their excuse for the meeting.

Emissaries from Griffonstone, the last to have visited, commented how just the table alone could be sold, the proceeds donated to the delegation, and be able to fund a wholescale revitalization of their homeland.

Considering how the societal and economic structure was, Celestia had opted to… postpone that option. At least until an equitable distribution of funds to all Griffonstonians could be worked out.

Much to the delegation’s displeasure.

Luna’s head dipped slightly, eyes closing in concentration, voice progressing slowly, hesitantly, trying to pick and choose her words and phrases carefully. “We… understand your confusion. This is a… delicate situation. We have… I have not had as much time as you or Celestia to learn how to interact with the guards as individuals. Our main experiences were… before…”

Cadence leaned forward, laying her hoof gently on Luna’s on the tabletop. “It’s OK. I understand.”

Luna’s eyes opened, looking skeptically into Cadence’s, but yet she nodded. “Thank you. I need your help in understanding how to deal with this batpony’s situation.”

“Well, then… I’m guessing this has something to do with some of your detail having very romantic feelings for you and you want to know how to date them? I mean, Shining and I made it work. We can figure out how you’ll be… What’s with the face?”

Princess Luna’s face was in an unusual way; at the intersections of confusion, disbelief, and wonderment. “How… Can you know something like this about my guards? There is somepony who feels this way about me? How can this be?” Her eyebrows were practically hovering over her eyes in surprise.

Cadence, on the other hoof, was smirking and proud of herself. “How could you not know some of your guards would love to court you, impress you, woo you into their-”

“Cadence!” Luna’s deep-blue cheeks were nearly glowing with blush.

Not able to stop her runaway train of thought, Cadence pressed on. “Oh, it’s nothing to be ashamed about. Our guards know that I’ll outlive them many times over. They’re more than willing to–”

“Cadence, PLEASE!” Luna leaned back, pulling her hoof back, recoiling from the implications. “We are not needing to hear the sorted details of your conjugal activities!”

Her grin practically plastered across her face, the Princess of Love couldn’t help but laugh as she calmed herself down and struck a more personal tone. “Oh, relax! So long as all the ponies involved are consenting, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Her amusement sated, Cadence leaned back, relaxing both her poise and timbre, yet with a self-satisfied smirk. “OK, ok. I’ll save all the naughty details for another day. So, which guard is it we’re talking about? Ariadne? He’s a little older but still good stock. Lunar Lace is pretty when she does up her mane.”

Luna’s eyebrows never left their arboreal relocation, holding her eyelids wide open in shock.

Cadence’s smirk only broadened a hair as she watched Luna’s mouth open and close wordlessly, trying to engage with her mind. “Now that your mind is in complete disassociated disarray, you can open up with me with less direct emotional connection to the situation. It works wonders, really. Confuse someone enough and suddenly they’re willing to hand over more information than if you just asked nicely. A little something I learned from long nights of drinking with Shiney. Want to know some of his really salacious desires?”

Finally able to connect her mind into a forward gear, Luna pursed her lips tightly together before grumbling, “No. Nothing like that. We have a guard who– NO! Please, just listen.”

Cadence’s lips, already parted to tease again, re-sealed themselves as she nodded, zipping across them with her hoof. A mock-innocent eyelash flutter-blink confirming her attention.

Luna sighed and pressed on. “The guard in question has managed to find a way into the dream realm on his own. NO! No. Please, let me finish. It seems it was due to the strong emotions he had, the deepest feelings of loss at the death of his mare.”

Cadence’s face changed entirely from teasing amusement to crushed empathy - her hoof covering her muzzle in shock.

“She was sick for a year before succumbing to her disease. They stayed together through it all; was always there with her whenever his duties permitted. We found ways to keep his duties as close to the Hallow Shades Reserve Center as possible so they could be together. But…”

Cadence, her hoof still covering her lips, barely speaks over a whisper. “Oh, Auntie!”

“He is…” Luna paused, cocking her head a little. “He is a… special case.” Seeing Cadence lower her hoof to speak, Luna interrupts. “There is far more to it, but… we should work with this to begin.”

“I…” For the moment Cadence was at a loss for words, closing her eyes and furrowing her brow in concentration.

“So,” Luna concluded. “--you see why our discretion about this is paramount.”

“No, I get it. I get it. I just… So…” Cadence’s eyes opened in pain, lips moving silently, pantomiming different questions until they finally pressed together in frustration. Her eyes squinted in thought, finally asking simply, officially, “What do you want to know from me? How can I help you?”

Luna’s voice was simple, direct, measured, and controlled. “We… I… would like you to help me understand what a loss like that could do to a batpony.”

Cadence winced, but nodded slowly. “I think I can do that. It won’t be easy, but… I think I can help there.”

Luna winced, closing her eyes tightly and pressed out one word, “--and…”

Cadence cocked her head, waiting patiently. Whatever, whatever it was Luna wanted to add on after this must be even more challenging to ask.

“And…” Luna took a slow breath, eyes closed, trying to gather enough bravery to whisper, “.... can you explain how love manifests as pain?”

Cadence blinks, heavily surprised by this question. “Well…” There is a pause, an elongated inhale as the Princess of Love’s shoulders hitch up tighter to her neck and her wings russell against her back. “I’m going to need a little more context for this. We know that any relationship that breaks will have its pains; I’m guessing you don’t mean just that. But…” With a dismissing shake ‘no’ of her head, she blinks, feeling her attention in the conversation reset and snap back into place. “Wait… Nevermind that. They broke into your Dream Realm?! How is that even– I mean…” With a spiraling pattern almost on par with Twilight Sparkle’s mental vortex, Cadence’s question and attention utterly shifted to the beginning of the queue.

“It was not meant, apparently”, Luna explained quickly, trying to forestall more questions into her own kingdom. “They desired a chance to reconnect to the one they’d lost. Someone they held most dear for a long time.”

“Auntie”, Cadence cut her off, eyes large in fear. “The last time somecreature did that, you–”

A blue-shot hoof raised, punctuating the interruption. “--yes. We are…” Luna just sighed heavily, remembering Yet Again how her actions harmed another. “...well aware, and have never forgotten, or forgiven ourself. But this crossing? It was for a far different reason; it was only for himself.”

“Himself? Not ‘Themself’ this time?”

“We can’t help them if I hide all the details from you. Let me explain…”

---

With the Moon now well-risen and shining through the window, Cadence was pacing another ring around the conference table, allowing the details of Luna’s guard’s problem to run through her mind.

“I help couples all the time; letting love between couples come forward during times when it was questioned. But this? This isn’t something to easily tread. Not for anypony, never mind me. What you’re talking about is emotion beyond what I have expertise in. I mean, if the two of them were alive and came to me for counseling, sure! I’d be able to help them figure out what was happening between them emotionally. But this…?”

Luna, still sitting in her chair, turned her head, keeping Cadence in view. “One suggestion from the Captains was to relieve him of duty, give him time to cope and heal on his own time table.”

“--and?”

“We refused,” Luna said scornfully. “His responsibilities are too important for that.”

This brought Cadence up short, stopping quickly on the other side of the table. “You… You refused? What responsibilities could he have that were so important?”

“He is our…” Luna hesitated, quickly judging her own responsibilities to the Kingdom before pressing on. “--our ‘Greeting Card Writer’ “ she finally said, slowly.

Cadence’s eyes widened in shock. “Wait. Wait-wait… that’s HIM?”

Luna hesitated, realizing that the entire premise of personal secrecy had teetered past the point of salvaging. Finally nodding once, whispering, “him.”.

“-that lame flier?”

As before, hesitation in place, Luna nodded once again.

The Princess of Love sputtered a few times, trying to process this, head swinging around to look at all corners of the room. “I know I’ve seen him at some point. But…” Turning back to Luna, her face began a journey from disbelief and non-acceptance to abject confusion. “You’re kidding, right? No, why would you kid about something like this? So he’s… They were…”

“Cadence?”

Lowering her head, pressing her eyelids closed, twisting her head and raising a pink hoof, she tried to interrupt not just the inflood of more information from her companion, but the swirling connections in her own mind. “-No! No. Let me just… Let me work through this. Uhm. Wow, this is… I mean… This is really something.”

“This is why we needed your help spec–”

Snapping her head up and opening her eyes, the poor confused princess finally has something to latch onto. “OH! No, I get that! It’s just that… there are some parts I won’t be able to help with.”

“--oh.”

Cadence spoke quickly, “Don’t get me wrong! I’m glad you came to me about this! This isn’t something simple, obviously.”

“Obviously” Luna drolled.

Unaffected Cadence pressed on, beginning her circular pacing again, her words following her mental attention, turning far inward. “The relationship they had was obviously special. I wish that level of love was more common. Ok, so, how do we help him?”

“That is the question on the table.”

Cadence stops her pacing, mumbling ideas quickly to herself, asking and dismissing each as they fall off her lips; “Love surrogates? Socializing? Re-assignment? Replacement? Potions? Forced retirement? Mind alteration?”

A metal-on-wood THUNK! fills the room from the tabletop, startling Cadence enough to whip her head up and half unfurl her wings. “NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Luna’s eyes hardened into slits, reacting to this last idea.

Cadence winced back in surprise. “OH! No, no. Sorry. Just running all possibilities I can think of. Even the outlandish ones. This is something that I haven’t needed to deal with yet. Nothing like this has even been brought to my attention before. Especially not regarding a guard.”

“So, now,” Luna sighed deeply. “How do we help him? CAN we help him?”

Cadence finished her walk around the table, sitting in her chair again, looking a thousand leagues into the distance. “--that is the question on the table. Honestly?” Cadence brought her attention back to Luna, speaking gently. “Right now, I don’t know.”

---

The official flights I take are brutal ones; barely more than gliding in the air. If I fell out of a balloon or an airship or fell off a high enough balcony, I could save myself, angling my landing to soften the blow. And the ponies around me know that I might need to be attended to by the infirmary. Not unusual for me to be missing for a day or three in recovery after falls like that. Worse yet, I’ve earned a reputation for being an accident prone batpone that way.

A flier from birth, who can’t fly due to injury sustained from Lunar Reserves training at a relatively young age.

Do you know what that does to somepony? Having your reputation precede you that you need to be watched over, cared for, tended to, protected from your own clumsiness because you can’t use the Harmony-Gifted wings that chance and luck provided to you?

And you work as a Greeting Card writer! Literally scribbling out ideas and slogans and insipid platitudes that are supposed to make Equestria at large, and Canterlot specifically, a more attractive tourist destination - as if this monument to….

And needing to keep the secret from everypony, always, that who they think I am isn’t real.

But trip and fall I did; stumbled from a tower-top, screeching my panic-scream, skidding to a stop along the topiary garden’s pathway. Scraped legs and cheek showing how lucky I was to not have plummeted into the grass snout-first.

Being the special case I was, the infirmary had setup an isolated room, specifically catered to me; healing crystals, water, condensed foods, stamina potions, diagnostic equipment specifically for my formally-broken wing…

And Special Medical Technician Well Spring, specifically brought up from Hollow Shades and the Reserves, was its only certified operator.

Again, officially, it was a hold-over from when I first joined the Lunar Guard Reserves, started flight training, broke my wing, lost my wife….

It was the Guard’s way of caring for one of its own who got dealt a raw deal. Perfectly respectable and showed how cohesive the batpony community remained during Princess Luna’s thousand year absence.

Officially I’m recuperating in that room; sleeping the healing arcana off and not wanting anypony to see what condition that broken wing is in.

But I’m not in that room now.

Technically I’m not in Equestrian airspace, even.

I am, unofficially, between Tampa Neigh to my low-right, Hippocampus Shoals to the low-left, and Gallopingghost Islands approaching low-ahead, making all-speed south, chasing the trail from a shooting star at the start of my mission.

My ability to launch and soar in the highest parts of the skies was an otherwise untapped quantity - one that Equestria hadn’t used in centuries. But with the return of Princess Luna and the recognition of what I could accomplish, my place in the Guards was cemented.

…unofficially.

Tonight I was a diplomatic courier from Canterlot Castle’s Equestrian Crown to Mount Aris’ Hippogriffia Kingdom.

The presence of each kingdom had been known to the other, but due to the distance involved, transportation to-and-from was a long, arduous one. Over land there are deserts to contend with. On the water is the possibility of a sea dragon being territorial. And across the air? Well, airships would take too long and even highly-trained pegasi fliers wouldn’t have the stamina to make it.

But for me, this night, the darkness and the weather makes my flight perfect; the occasional cloud under me to hide my profile from anycreature that might look up, but only thin enough that I can see the lighting of the landmarks I need for navigation.

It seemed a blink of an eye later that the spire of Mount Aris pierced the horizon for me, even if Princess Luna’s Moon’s position in the sky told me otherwise. Timing-wise this was where all the training came to work; how long to stay up here, how far out could the guards see, where could I slip between, and finally, do I still have all my official documentation for my own protection?

In order: less than an hour, not far enough with my speed, if they keep following that pattern right between the first two I saw coming in, and oh yes. Those documents were between my wings, sealed in a cylinder buckled against my spine, with the caps displaying the Royal Seals of the Twin Diarcs of Equestria.

And just like that, my landing pattern started: nosing down and plummeting at the water, aiming at the earliest waves away from the land, my speed grew, shoving the air into my mouth, forcing me to screech hard enough to match its force and not tumble out of control.

“Flight Level Is Speed” was drilled into my mind from Captain Oberth’s training; so much so that I stopped needing to run the numbers in my head. I just knew by feel where I was in the speed graph. Being right where I needed to be I crossed the threshold from water-base to ground-base, slipped right between the patrol, and angled my wings up and back enough to land quickly with only a slight “POMF!” from the wind in my wings. A few quick trot-steps brought me into brush cover, out of their lines of sight.

In the night, my eyesight is far beyond theirs, I’d bet. Since they had lamps and I didn’t, I’m guessing that’d be a safe bet.

Taking one breath I called out in my best impersonation of the Captain's voice. “Patrol! Stand To! I Am Here On Request To The Crown Of Equestria From The Kingdom of Hippogriffia. My Code Clearance Is, ‘From Blackest Depths To Brightest Spikes’. Please Confirm My Acceptance.”

I could hear the twin patrollers, still well outside the treeline, slow then stop running. I could almost hear the confused looks on their faces.

“Please Confirm My Acceptance.” I called it a second time; a safety protocol to make sure I was who I claimed to be before I ended up on the bad-end of a lance.

“Accepted”, one voice called back. “Wait where you are!”

Oh, right now that was the best news I could have expected. Time enough for me to rub my wings against themselves and warm up a little. The cold air doesn’t bother me nearly as much as the cloud mist freezing on me does. At least it’s time well spent tensing up and relaxing to keep the muscles from hurting.

It didn’t take long for the sound of a pair of wings beating the air, bringing a new voice to the group - right where the previous two had been. “Equestrian Courier, Lieutenant Seaspray responding to you. Repeat your code for me.”

Well, this was unusual. An officer receiving me is an anomaly; my contacts are usually more… ‘unassuming’. “...‘From Blackest Depths To Brightest Spikes’. Please Confirm My Acceptance.”

The response was quick. “You are accepted.” I could hear him turn around facing away from me now. “Patrol? Take a walk along the beach and listen to the waves…. And ONLY to the waves. I’ll be watching you both. Understood?”

The patrol’s acceptance and walk off left just the two of us, close enough to speak even if the L.T. was faced away from me. Come to think of it…

“Turning your back on somepony in the dark is dangerous, isn’t it, Lieutenant? I’m flattered for the show of trust.”

His snort told me alot before a word escaped his beak. “Our previous contact for you unexpectedly died recently. Natural causes. We hadn’t assigned a replacement in time, so I got the job. And, since I never saw you, it’s possible I’m just hearing things in the night. Harmonizing Heights has a way of making Hippogriffs hear strange things, sometimes.”

I could only smile in appreciation. “Plausible deniability. Of course.”

“Of course.” His voice carried the wry smile of somepony in-charge who knows enough to know they know just enough. “Diplomatic protocol says I should offer you food, drink, and rest. My briefing says you’ll leave a sealed package behind that goes to Queen Novo directly, and you won’t be staying long enough for anything else.”

Pulling at the belt under my barrel, I started releasing my parcel. “Correct. I’d say I’m four bushes in from where you are - directly behind. Your lamp should light it up easily.”

“Before you go, I want to… one moment. THAT’S NOT NEARLY CLOSE ENOUGH TO THE WAVES! …ok. I wanted to ask; military to military? How are you able to get here? You evade our patrols, no one knows what you look like, or even what direction you came from. I just want to keep Hippogriffia safe.”

The tube unslung from my body and a gentle Tap-Tap on it confirmed its location for Seaspray as I propped it against a tree trunk on an angle. “In that case, military to military, I have a lot of respect for L.T.’s I hope I get to meet you officially some night. That being said…. Lieutenant Seaspray, of her majesty Queen Novo’s Royal Navy of the Kingdom of Hippogriffia…?”

My pause turned uncomfortable for him after a few extra seconds. I waited him out, enjoying the comedy of the moment. “...yes?”

My wings opened and cantered up to my shoulder while my hooves scratched lightly into the soil. It was a different texture than I was used to. Sharper; maybe the salt from the ocean crystalized in the top layer. Maybe next time I’ll ask. But this time I had a schedule to keep.

“...get used to disappointment.”

My launch-screech followed me straight up out of the leaves and into the night sky. This time I shot up higher and higher until my training told me I couldn’t be picked out of Luna’s magnificent display from the ground, or even by any air patrols.

I like him. Not super formal but apparently trusted.

I hope he’ll be rising in rank some night.

Consent

Author's Notes:

== CONTENT WARNING ==
This is a chapter that deals with Grief, Miscarriage, and Consensual Non-Consent. I'm not going to lie, this is a darker chapter, but the "clop" part is actually part of the overall narrative, believe it or not.

I understand that some will not want to read through this part - and that's perfectly understandable. So, to that angle, I thought I'd add this warning to eat up space and give anyone who'd rather skip the topic a way out.

Am I overdoing it a bit? Maybe... but I'd like to think I'm doing The Right Thing in giving Fair Warning.

Some of the events and inspirations do come from Real Life and people who I've known - and not necessarily from my own personal life experience.

With that... I look forward to any comments.

“Shadow… hun… Look, we’re both upset right now. This isn’t a good time to–”

Moon Shadow’s face was a sunken mess - eyes red, cheeks covered in tear-streaks, muzzle slicked with rivers of snot half-heartedly wiped at. What words she could get out between near-paralyzed vocal cords were hitching with half-restrained crying. “NO! Don’t you… don’t you take this away from me! I’m… we’re… Do this for me! Please do it! I need.. need to feel it!”

Earlier tonight Moon Shadow had felt something… “Wrong”. It wasn’t something she could describe in terms, just in feelings. Something was just “off” in how she felt. It wasn’t “pain”, but she insisted we visit the infirmary. It was frustrating to her not being able to tell me or the doctors what she felt.

It took the medical expert a terrifyingly short time to explain what she’d been feeling.

An hour after leaving the infirmary, with the sun already having risen, here we are. Home. In the kitchen of our tree. The one I’d grown up in, had all my memories in. Where we wanted to build new ones to share together, to experience together, to build up together.

“It won’t change things, Shadow. We can’t fix–”

Her squinting eyes and scrunching jaw were a siren, warning me before her hoof flew out to clock me across the face. Catching it infuriated her into a screaming rage with tears and snot flying off her lips. “YOU SWORE TO LOVE, CHERISH, AND SUPPORT ME! BE MY STALLION! DO THIS NOW!”

I held her eyes as tightly as her hoof, all too aware of how the rest of her body was acting. She was shivering, twitching, ready to fight me with everything she had. It was something we’d been taught in the Reserves to not let happen since it exhausts the muscles and makes the mind less focussed on the real enemy.

She was right, though. I’d promised her exactly that; the same as she’d promised me back.

“Shadow,” I whispered, not knowing if my volume would make things better or worse. Maybe matching her tone would stabilize her into stalemate. I could always raise my voice later if I have to. “If I do this, there’s no coming back from it. It’ll always be there as a–”

“I - DON’T - BUCKING - CARE!”, she screamed into my eyes. I swear she was ready to bite my nose completely in half. “STOP OVERANALLYZING EVERY… BUCKING - THING AND JUST DO IT, YOU LIMP-DICKED WANNA-BE!”

The power of that scream was enough to ring off the windows and fling fluids off her lips, landing only just short of my pelt. The worry that anypony casually walking past our home could hear all this occurred to me, but what could I do? It was my turn to be the calm one, at least on the outside. I was curled into a ball on the inside - crying with her, but now wasn’t the time for me to do that. That’s how we’d always been, sharing and trading what responsibilities were needed for however long we required.

It’s a strange thing, “Time”. Do ponies realize just how long “Three Seconds” is? During the normal course of living it’s barely a blip on a day. But in the here-and-now, arguing with my mare, trying to hold us back from the precipice Tartarus-bent on flinging us over, it stretched out forever in my mind. Questions and worries and concerns and fears all swirled in my mind worse than any whirlwind storm I’d ever matched my wings and skills against. And they all slammed against the same wall of hesitation inside me.

[...what if she wanted it?]

That… That right there, was the one concession I couldn’t shut up and ignore in my mind. Yes, Moon Shadow was angry, heartbroken, inconsolable…

…but this is what she said she wanted to try to get through.

My raised hoof didn’t release hers until I back-hoofed her square across her jaw with enough force to make her tumble off the chair and onto her back. She landed on her spine with her wings splayed out to cushion her fall, leaving her legs splayed like some poor unlucky tortoise. I was already standing, looking down on her flat, empty, defenseless belly and only slightly swollen teats. My calm was wearing thin, feeling close to the brink of giving in to her. “You want this, then? You want me to ‘punish’ you for something that wasn’t your fault?”

“NO, YOU FECKLESS MORON! I WANT YOU TO ABUSE ME! I NEED TO KNOW YOU DON’T SEE ME AS TOO FRAGILE TO EVER BE YOURS AGAIN!”

Another Three Seconds of forever started swirling in my mind, examining every possible outcome.

[...what if she wanted it?]

This… is a bad idea. An immensely, immeasurably, inconceivably bad idea. No mental health professional would ever sign off on this. Tartarus! I could end up in prison for what she’s wanting me to do.

Beat my wife blue and purple after she’d lost our foal? How could I possibly explain to anypony what this was? What our private relationship was like? How we loved to rut in the ground level long into the day, screaming like animals where nopony else could accidentally see or hear her plead for more.

[...what if she wanted it?]

My rear-right hoof lifted and stepped on her cunt, hard, grinding the frog into her lips, dragging down to stomp on her tail just past the dock. I wanted her to know how close to the edge she’d pushed me to doing exactly what she’d asked, and more. She needed to have some part of herself know what she was demanding of me so we could take a step back from that. It also gave me a way to check if she had any cream lubricating herself.

Harmony help me, she didn’t.

One Second….

This would be nothing short of “consentual rape” if I do this.

I pulled my hoof back and kick-punched her cunt harder, getting her eyes to squint and barely hold back a grunt.

Dry.

I didn’t spare her the frog this time, kicking her again straight on my toe. The way it bounced off I knew her lips took the full pressure, squeezed flat to the sides and against each other. The slap of hoof on skin rang in my ears, pushed by the volume from the scream she let out; first in pain, then molded into frustration.

“MUTHER… BUCK! DO IT OR–”

Two Seconds…

My wings snapped open loudly, filling her field of view, distracting her while my front hooves landed on her wing-skin between the second and third finger-joints. A place that would trap any flier, making them unable to lift a wing without ripping the skin. More training instilled in me to restrain her, non-lethally, so she could stop and think.

I couldn’t trust her to not try to do that - ripping holes in her wings the shape of my hooves, so I did the first thing I could think of in this situation. My head dove down, twisted to the side, and with my jaws opened I bit into her throat. We’re taught to never do this in combat since fangs against neck armour will fail every time, but against semi-willing rape meat?

I knew this was a horrible idea, but I’d committed myself to this feral attack on her; So… I bit. I bit hard into her throat. The taste of blood instantly told me that I’d broken skin. The sound that came out of her barely functional throat was a maddened, terrified scream.

The best I could do was to pull my lips back to mutter as clearly as I could for her to hear, “You want this, you bucking whorse? You want me to do this to you?”

My grip was tight enough to keep her from talking back, getting only wheases out, but when she felt the face of my cock slap between her ass and cunt, she flinched.

…Three……seconds.

“--geld’ng.”

My eyes flew wide open and I froze.

“Time”.

What even is “Time”?

We think of it as a measure of defined moment to moment, adding up in a never-ending pile behind us fed from a mountain before us. But what happens when “Time” defies that idea? When everything you’ve experienced all your life changes from being a string or pages in a book into an ocean you fall into; experiencing every moment you remember simultaneously?

My mind swam through our time together; the tree, the fair, the wedding, the countless times she goaded me into rutting her, the one night we shared our deepest wants. How she wanted to be mine, to welcome me home every morning, with her knees folded in front, her tail waved aside, inviting me, barely inside the door. Showing off to anypony lucky enough to be in view that she was about to be filled, dripping with fluids all morning until we slept - maybe even through it.

And then she told me the one thing she wanted me to promise; to one day fulfill her darkest desire with me. The one she’d had growing in her for years.

She’d used her ANTI-Safe Word.

This was her way to tell me, in no uncertain terms, that I was free to do anything, literally anything, short of maiming her, for the next however-long I wanted, regardless of the consequences of it. An uncomfortable doctor’s visit, strange questions from her beautician to cover obvious rut-bruises or fixing sections of mane chomped short, avoiding ponies we knew so they wouldn’t see her swollen cheek or hobbling gait - all part of the deal…

One Second Gone.

We talked about this many times in the beginning of the day before sleep, rutting eachother in some secret semi-private locations around town, when we wanted to play through naughty ideas for our life together. ‘course with a foal that would have become massively difficult to schedule. Between trying to sleep, feed, clean, teach… It was a life we were going to endure and enjoy together. With a little help and advice from our families.

Well, about the foal anyway.

The underground floor even had a few areas that could be converted into an even more long-term location to keep her trapped. Chained or caged to the floor, being fed however I wanted, abused, cleaned, instructed. We worked on it together, getting a few pieces here and there, planning and cleaning sections while I bored her with stories of how young-me would have never imagined what we’d be doing down here.

Wondering what our foal would think of it one day and how to eliminate that threat one day when they got too precocious.

All those late-days of planning and fantasizing and dreaming what would be.

Two Seconds Gone.

But that word… That one word… That was her greatest power over me.

Over who we were.

–and her ultimate ask.

This code between us was the final fail-safe between us; this was no longer “playtime”. This was her final commitment to me. Deeper than being my wife, than my friend.

Oh, to be sure! She wasn’t going to just submit. She was free to try to escape, to plead for mercy, to try to push me off. But I was allowed to do anything, everything, to rut her however and wherever I wanted. I needed to fight her, force her, earn her screams of pain and hate. I needed to conquer her.

She needed to feel that she couldn’t escape; chained, marked, hooves nailed to the floor, subsisting as my toy.

And right now?

I wanted to hurt her.

I wanted to inflict pain in a way I never would have otherwise.

I was angrier in a way I shouldn’t have been. I was angry at her!

She was pushing me to become the monster we’d fantasized about; deciding, unilaterally, that our relationship was about to change, forever.

Irrevocably.

…Three.

My hooves shifted up her wing, pressing into the bone. I was still attentive enough to not damage it, but enough to make her scream in pain and terror for a solid three seconds through my grip on her windpipe.

Blood and terror. I could taste both of them on her as I lifted my head quickly, tearing at her throat, scraping the fur and skin hard. My eyes bore into hers to scream my intent so my voice didn’t have to. “You want me to rape you, huh?” My lips were tight, curled on my teeth coated in her blood and the growl of my resentment. “Slip my cock in you, stir you up and set a new foal in you, huh? Well guess what, little sponge…”

With her wings pinned and her throat barely able to form words, she couldn’t do more than wail in panic and need as I shifted my haunches and tilted my cock lower, pressed against her ass. She wanted me to rail her, to break her, and I had every intention of doing just that, but on my terms.

Her panicked eyes, wide and white, shook back and forth faster than her whole head could, trying to tell me, beg me, not to do what I was–

“NO-O-O-O!!!”

I speared her ass, filling the very end of her hole without looking away from her.

Waxing

Waking up during Last Light was a rare treat for me these days. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. Nopony to see. No responsibilities to run a perfectly–

…is that coffee I hear brewing?

…..

Well, piffle. That’s rain off the leaves I hear dripping.

…but?

My wings are, oddly, cold. And my body is at an awkward level in bed. Not tilted back a bit from–

Why do I smell coffee?

My eyes crack open, annoyed at the oranges and reds of Celestia’s sun dipping below the cloud layer and into the horizon, giving our bedroom its off-coloured hue. The woodgrain always looked so wrong to me as a foal when that happened - like they had some kind of blood just under the surface.

It took a few times of my parents telling me that tree blood is syrup did I stop having nightmares about it. At least they laughed when I asked if that meant I was a vampire because I liked tree blood on my pancakes.

I still didn’t want to sleep in their bed anymore after I thought that.

My nose doesn’t lie. That is definitely coffee I smell. Which means…

Stretching my wings out not only confirmed Moon Shadow wasn’t in bed, but that her side wasn’t warm anymore. I couldn’t help myself and rolled my eyes, groaning lightly. “It’s too early for this” whispered past my lips, not nearly for the first time.

Sliding the blue springtime sheet off my body I laid hoof to rug and stepped to the bathroom. Not just to relieve myself, but to enjoy sniffing her perfume on the counter. All the beauty products she had were for very different uses from eyes to lips to hooves to tail tip. But what always drew my attention was the squat little black bottle of fragrance from the outskirts of Saddle Arabia.

My work as a researcher and cataloger of foalhood tales was as fun as it was strenuous. Being able to make my way from Hollow Shades to the Saddle Arabian border in unofficial record time was fulfilling. Bringing home that little indulgence was so worth it. Every formal event we attended had her wearing that scent - her personal signal to me that she was mine for the taking whenever I wanted.

Some mares wear salacious clothing like stockings with straps across their haunches, drawing eyes as they strutted around; coyly flashing a clip here or a stocking top there. Moon Shadow just announced her state to a whole room at once, hoping only a single pony knew what it signified.

The downside to my olfactory indulgence was that my cock never stopped its drop after my bladder drained. It was now curved under my belly, making my walk to the kitchen more of an uneven hip-swaying saunter.

Stepping into the kitchen I get assaulted with the proper scent of both fresh coffee and Shadown’s own scent; a unique mix of her musk, her mane-care soap, her hoof polish…

–and “that” lipstick?

There was the final red glow of the Day Ball through the west-facing window, right into my face. Always too garish, too annoying to be worth it for us batponies. But even we understood it was a Necessary Evil that had to be accepted if Princess Luna’s night was to be enjoyed.

She was sitting at the table, lots of loose papers reaching out to the sides, all getting moved back and forth as she swung her head to inspect each one, comparing notes.

What I got to enjoy about the view from behind wasn't her slightly pudgy flanks, but her long grown-out mane. She loved to feel it slap across her neck, but only for a few months. At that point it was, “It’s so heavy when it gets wet, I'll just get it trimmed”. Shortly after that she’d miss the SHORT style so she'd do that again. But then she'd miss the standard length hair and start growing it all back again.

She’d been on that cyclic kick for at least the last five years that I knew about.

Without even bothering to turn around, nevermind lift her head, Shadow reacted to my entrance. “You know, you could have slept in a little longer. I just need to get these figures straightened out.”

I laid my chin against her wing-shoulder and dragged my teeth up to nibble lightly on her neck just aside her mane. “I could say the same to you, you know.” My eyes, even tired as they were, could make out all the town and city names on the sheets: the Green Mountains, Mysteficent Forrest, Hayseed Swamps, the Forest of Leota, Mythica, the Everfree Forest and The Castle.

Shadow squeezed my head into her neck with a mono-shrug and a long, appreciative sigh. “I know, I know. But this was on my mind all day. Something hasn't been adding up for the last two months and I need to find this.”

I leaned my face past hers, twisting slightly so I could give her a firm lick across her lips. The taste of that lipstick on her gave me all the invitation I needed to turn it into a deep kiss, punctuated with a wing-slap for her rump. Always loved the little grunt coming through her nose when I did that. As much fun as it was to distract her I had to pull off and ask after a few seconds, “So, why make the coffee if you’re not drinking it? Are you that wrapped up in supply numbers that you’d deprive yourself of the deliciousness?”

A confused blink of her eyes gave me a sly smirk. “What makes you think I’m not drinking any.”

“Because, my single-minded businessmare… I’ll bet there’s more lipstick on my lips than on that mug of cold drink.” Feeling her stiffen a bit was all the confirmation I needed. “So, unless I miss my guess you’ve been up for about an hour so far, and barely knew I was behind you until I stepped up.”

I could feel the warm blush in her cheek against mine. “We-e-ell” she tried to drag out time to come up with a good excuse, turning up to kiss my lips quickly, impishly. “At least I could hear the ‘Fun Swagger’ in your step. So, you like the way I smell, huh? Or are you just carrying a piss hardon outside where everypony can see it?” That innocent-as-evil lip bite of hers was just unfair on so many levels.

Considering she heard my condition there was no reason for me NOT to run it up her spine a few times. “And, of course, you putting on THAT lipstick had no ulterior motives, huh? Glad we didn’t have any deliveries. Hard to explain why I have the most beautiful whorse answering my door while I’m passed out aslee–OOF!”

Her wing jabbing into my gut cut me off, making me smile as evilly as she was still. “You stop that. I’m not a whorse; they get paid. I’m your personal broodmare slut, and don’t you forget it mister.” She’d finally turned half-away from the table, attention on me instead of work for now. “And you can’t tell me you’d be against watching me give a tip to our delivery mare, hmm? Leave a nice ‘Forget Me Not’ whore-red lipstick ring around her plot?”

Another wing-slap on her flank and a quick deep kiss on her lips was worth it to feel her naughty smile. “That’d be an inefficient way to get that lipstick around the base of my cock, you know. Could just by-pass the middle-mare and go straight for…” I had to stop, seeing as how her eyes suddenly went wide with her lips opening in shock. “What’s that look for?”

Shadow turned back to the table, pushing her notes around frantically. “What was the name of that place? You know, two weeks ago when you got the stories about The Grazing Old Goat?” She was in detail mode now and there’s no way to pull her away from her mission until she’d completed it.

“Uhh… You mean Batlinsburgh?”

“YES! THERE!” That did it. She knew just what she was looking for and which pile it was under. How she can move all those pages around without letting them fly all over the floor is beyond me. But shuffle them, and find what she wanted she did. And, of course, she just had to explain it to me. “The ledger from Batlinsburgh’s textiles exports are off between terms. I couldn’t account for the discrepancy before. I can’t believe I missed it! It’s because of a re-use of supplies provision in the work-product tally, meaning–”

“--WAIT! Just… wait?”

Oh, sweet harmony, she actually stopped and turned to look at me. “Look, if you promise, and I mean Really Promise not to explain what this is all about, I’ll make us candied beetle popovers and fresh hot coffee for breakfast. Deal?”

That Innocent Evil Grin was back on her. I hated to love that she knew what that did to me. Her voice dropped into the growl range and she slowly told me, “So long as the cream in mine comes from you, you’ve got a deal mister research writer.”

So off I went into the kitchen, heating water, grinding beans, and rolling out dough. It's not tough to coordinate if you do it all in the right order. Water takes time to heat but beans are a snap to grind. The popovers take a few minutes, but the oven takes a while to heat up. And if you use a metal pan, heat it on the stove, put the popovers in, THEN all into the oven…

Well, there's another reason Moon Shadow loves me. Because I make her drool from her lips.

I keep reminding her not to say that in public, but she always has that innocent, “what, ME?!” face to fall back on.

---

Sitting at the kitchen table, looking out at the sun as it finishes its setting, sipping my coffee and nibbling on candied beetle popovers, all I could do is remember.

A bite.

A sip.

Chew chew chew….

I could hear the rest of Hollow Shades waking up: foals getting ready for classes, new parents headed to the infirmary for checkups, the fisherponies prepping for a long night on the water.

Swallow.

All the mornings I've missed her. All the nights she'd tease me about my ignorance on how her job intertwines with so many ponies and communities and all I have now are fading memories.

Bite.

Sip.

Chewchewchew….

Part of my training with the LGR was in recognizing how little I could trust my memories, especially regarding traumatic moments. Memories that are a flash in the pan for a very short time, but fade out quickly after.

Maybe that’s why I refuse to leave this tree.

Swallow.

Everything of us is here. Every memory I have left to treasure is here: every trinket, every piece of clothing, every sex toy, every scented piece of mane care and makeup…

I paused, doing a mental double-take. What happens when it’s lost its scent? Shampoo isn’t a problem since it’s still popular and made. But what about her perfume? Her lotions? Can I get more? Is it still made? Would it still smell the same?

…would it be worth holding onto that part of us? –of HER?

I rubbed my ankles against eachother, feeling her stocking material glide across the other. It was comforting, feeling some of her still with me. Trying to pull them up without tearing holes in them gave me a new appreciation for how she treated me. Their slight sparkle always made me smile; like they were charged thunder clouds, spun into tubes for her to wear and captivate me.

Sniffing gave me a new rush with her perfume on my ear and her lipstick left a memorable taste lingering on my mind.

Bite, sip, chew…

One day there will be nothing left to remind me of what she was like to be with.

…chewchewchew….

All I could do is sigh and lay my head on the table, close my eyes and cover with my wings.

Swallow.

Not for the first time, I wondered what others would think about this. Me wearing her clothes, her perfume, her cosmetic scents at home, alone.

Trying not to be alone.

“It's OK to feel lonely”, my mother told me. “--but don't ever think you're alone.”

Bite.

Swallo–

HACK! COUGH! GAG! BUCKIN’ OUCH! I just damned-near inhaled that popover! This HURTS! THIS HURTS! My lungs are about to–

KnockKnock! KnockKnock! KnockKnock!

I FROZE with my eyes slammed OPEN, ears cantered dead-forward, and lungs frozen in place!

“DELIVERY!”

Oh, sweet merciful Harmony! Who would be delivering anything to me this early in the evening?!

“Uhh… Can you leave it at the door! I'm in the middle of something!“

There was a beat pause before they answered. “The Admiralty would appreciate your personal acceptance of this delivery.”

…

...the Adm–?!

……

Oh, no.

No.

NO, no no no….

“So Ordered! One Moment!”

OK! Ok! Breathe. BREATHE!

Wow, ok now….

Protocol for a High-Level Official Delivery like this is clear; whatever I’m doing, or wearing I guess, is secondary to anything else right now. I’ll need to sign and stamp for it.

One doubled-over LOUD cough later I walked to the door with a resigned sigh. There’s no time for me to take off the stockings and the lipstick, nevermind the perfume, so I can only hope that whoever it’ll be will keep all this to themselves. My reputation with the guards was of sympathetic pity. They all knew what I’d lost and have tried to help in subtle ways. When you know you’re acting a part for the whole world, you pick up on the little pieces here and there.

I cracked open the door to see two guardsponies in dress uniforms on the porch flanking a two-wing long crate. On the right a Nightwalker who blinked at me but didn’t otherwise give away anything. He was young - an Ensign I didn't recognize.

Good Harmony was I ever that young?

The second? Well, I knew her so well I could hear her self-identification in my head. “Lieutenant Nubila Noctis - Royal Throne Room Honour Guard Detail.” Upon the return of Princess Luna and her reinstatement to Co-Princess in Canterlot, she’d been the fifth in line to volunteer for that duty. She’d wanted to be assigned to Canterlot if the Princess ever came back and she got her dream job.

With nothing else I could do about this I plastered on a straight face, kept my cool, and boldly stepped through the door frame, facing them down.

Since I was still technically Off Duty I acknowledged them each with a nod instead of a salute, and per protocol, by rank.

“Ensign.”

“Guardspony.”

Most other militaries place more emphasis on the higher ranks first, forgetting the most important thing; it’s the lowest-ranked service ponies who do the actual grunt work. They are more intimately involved in whatever is going on, so they’ll have details the higher-ups won’t. We in the LGR work from the ground up, knowing this truism. Yes the higher-ups are the directors of what needs to be done, they are ultimately responsible for making sure things are accomplished, but it’s the lower ranks who make things happen and the first to bear the weight in any official military endeavor.

….

And now the part that was going to haunt me for years ahead, I just know it.

Breathe…

Pause…

I sighed, turned my head left, and nodded.

“Lieutenant.”

“Guardspony.”

Her lips and nostrils didn’t give anything away, but I could see it in one eye - that slight laugh crease, a tiny muscle pull of somepony holding in a smile or a smirk. Like I said, I’ve gotten very good at noticing when somepony’s behaving a certain way around me. Noticing and remembering these things helps me know how I have to behave around them.

With a not-trained-out fidget the Ensign broke the lul. “Sir? We, uhh… have a package for you requiring hoof and nose prints as witnesses to the delivery.”

Ok, this seemed a bit much, but as usual, the Admiralty has its ways. Since Princess Luna’s return and taking some measure of control of the guards there had been some shuffling of resources. Some made more sense than others to us, but we also understood that She’d likely wanted to test how well we’d react in desperate situations and stress. I just hope we’d done as well as her original guards before the Battle for The Castle.

“I will receive.” The formality of the answer made sure we three recognized the importance of the delivery being made. It might sound archaic, but the formality’s served the LGR for generations.

Nubila stepped around the back of the box, placed her right hoof on the image of Princess Luna’s Cutiemark, covering the crescent moon with her hoof. One of the blue ovals in the design lightly glowed, and she pressed her nose into it.

“Verified. Nubila Noctis. Lieutenant. Courier.”

I KNOW the voice from the box! It was Commander… Whoops! Captain Obsidian Nebula! I’ll likely never get used to that. The voice for each parcel is placed with its security enchantments, making sure only the authorized ponies would have access to it.

Meaning she had to know this delivery was for me.

None of my “other” deliveries did that.

She removed her nose and hoof, stepped back, and returned to her side of the box.

I raised my hoof and placed it on the box, same as Nubila had, covering the crescent Moon. A different oval glowed, prompting me to follow suit, pressing my nose into the crate.

“Verified. Icarus. Guardspony. Recipient.”

With my part done, I also removed my hoof and nose and stepped back, giving the Ensign room to do his part. His hoof pressed down on the Moon, and the oval that Nubila used glowed. Which, I never realized, must mean that the couriers used one and the recipient used the other.

“Verified. River Shimmer. Ensign. Witness.”

Maybe it was easier to encode the delivery teams that way and add the recipient after. One of these days I might get to properly know about those systems.

“You May Open The Parcel To Complete Delivery.”

The poor Ensign reached a hoof out to the crate only to have Nubila’s head twist reflexively fast to look daggers at him. She smacked his hoof with a wing hard enough to almost hit himself in the jaw with it. Her voice growled out, “have to wait 5 minutes or the parcel is destroyed. You did read the briefing on how these secured deliveries are supposed to work, didn't you Ensign?”

The poor newbie basically cowered in place, nursing the hoof close to his neck. “Uhm… Yes, Ma’am? Sorry Ma’am. Just a…” His eyes flickered at me for just the briefest moment. “--a little distracted.” I swear, I could hear the glow of embarrassment on his cheeks. It must be his first High-Level Delivery. After all the expectations and frill, it really is just another delivery with a few additional steps.

Protocol and all that, you know.

As Nubila turned back to me I could see that smile crease had grown, making me hate what was about to happen. “So… Icarus…” Her whole head tilted down, eyes trailed to my hooves then back up to my eyes as she cocked her head. “Hockless stockings look pretty on you. A new fashion statement in the Writing Office?”

Internally I’m rolling my eyes at her. She’s going to ask without asking. Fine. “Doctor's orders. It's training me to keep attentive to my legs, since I can't rebalance with my wings all the time if something happens.” I lifted and squeezed my wings a bit on my back to demonstrate what I was talking about.

“And you bought mare-sized garter tops because…?”

The Ensign at least had the propriety to look away, pretending to not be part of this conversation, even if he’s in the splash zone.

“…because I couldn't afford the prescription versions. All I needed was something uncomfortable to wear. These were my mare's. She’d want me to use them to get better rather than just throw them away.” I made sure to look her dead in the eyes as I raised one eyebrow, making sure she knew I was talking just to her, now. “You understand not throwing something away until it's used up, don’t you Nubila?”

She squinted her eyes in annoyance, raised her nose, and snorted indignantly before giving me a curt nod. “She was a thoughtful mate, then.” That answer through her tense jaw was respectful at least.

I dipped my snout a bit before replying gently, “She was many things.”

JINGLE!

The warning from the delivery rang lightly, giving us a one minute window for me to collect the contents. I reached out my wings, opened the box's twin latches and lifted the lid, revealing two parcels inside.

First was a cube box: a deep purple with Princess Luna's cutiemark on a corner wrapped in a ribbon holding it closed. The other a thin rectangular pink, imprinted with the The Crystal Empire’s flag on its corner.

A note attached to the top-inside of the container lid unfolded saying, “Courtesy of the Royal Greeting Card Office.” Obviously placed where the delivery team couldn't read it.

So… what's inside is private, but the knowledge that something from the Admiralty was delivered wasn’t.

How… curious.

It wasn’t a difficult thing to extract the cube, place it on the thin box, and lift them together, though they had a fair bit of heft to them. Once I had them secure, I nodded a curt parting saying, “Lieutenant…. Ensign. Safe travels and Luna watch over you.” I didn't even hear them respond as I turned and headed back inside, swatting the door closed with my tail.

Looking at the closed door, all Nubila could give off was an annoyed, “Huh.”

River looked across to her, worry across his face. “So…. That's it? We're done here?”

Nubila nodded, closed the lid, turned, and lifted her side of the crate. “That's it. Real glamorous, huh kid? Though… Can't say I ever picked him as the ‘Dressy’ type.”

Shimmer lifted his half and matched hoof-falls as they headed away from Icarus’ home. “So… he's the one I heard about? Broke his wing and–”

“That's him” Nubila interrupted. “Best we can do is honour his spirit and make sure he's kept safe. As for how he was dressed, you do not breathe a word to anypony. Clear?”

“No, Ma'am! I mean, Yes Ma'am! I mean–”

“Good enough.” A quick look at the sky confirmed the first slivers of the Moon rising. “We should make the train to Canterlot on time. Once we're back and stow this you should be cleared back to normal duties.”

“Thank You, Ma'am. And, forgive my asking but… couldn’t this have been done by magic instead?”

Nubila blew a hair off her face with an annoyed puff. “I was ordered to handle this delivery personally. You just happened to come up in rotation. C'mon. We'll get a glowbug smoothie for the trip.”

---

The boxes I carried in felt oddly matched in weight. Not much shifted in them, so whatever it was they packed it well enough. Setting them on the kitchen table I was able to get some idea what we've gotten here.

First the cube. One pull on the ribbon holding it closed and I could lift the lid, revealing a new note covering whatever was below it. The hornwriting was immaculate in a midnight blue ink that read, “Everypony in the Lunar Guard deserves a uniform specific to their position. This one is yours to wear, publicly. Thank you for your service, Icarus.”

It was signed with Princess Luna’s cutiemark at the bottom.

A midnight-blue fabric cover with a tether rested on a lip just inside the cube. Pulling that up revealed what I couldn’t have expected. A blue and white segmented helmet, long enough to stretch down my neck to my wing shoulders. Under that was a necklace, somewhat like the Night Guard standard but with a gem at the center matching my own eye colour. And finally four blue metal hoof guards with curved blades to them.

Being a courier doesn't usually have risks, but a little protection is nice to have.

Closing that back up I slid it aside and opened the second box. It was thin but surprisingly about as heavy as the armour. Removing the lid presented me with another note reading, “Dream and she will hear you.” And this time signed with both Princesses Luna & Cadence’s cutiemarks!

All I could do was blink a few times. I've flown the outskirts of the Crystal Empire but never to it. The idea that this was a gift from both Princesses threw me for a loop.

I carefully peeled open the protective paper wrap and….

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move more than my eyes, which were overflowing with tears almost instantly.

It was… heart-rendingly beautiful.

Wood. Ebony black. The same colour as Moon Shadow’s coat.

EXACTLY her shade.

To the left was a carving of her face; her lips were perfect, her ear just right, and the gem as her eye was perfectly placed over her cheek. Behind her head was a rounded portion, showing her cutiemark in a way I'd never seen done before. It was carved into the wood with dark-silver crystal under it giving it all an elegant feel. And finally past that was a relief of her wing, pulled in. Resting.

“Dream and she will hear you.”

All I could do was stand there, dripping tears to the floor.

---

“I mean… Come on, Lieutenant. We all take on the risks when we sign into the Guards, right? He's got Guard Training, Guard Status, a specialized medical room just for him, and he sits in an office writing greeting cards instead of staying ready for combat? What’s so special about him?”

With only a few minutes to wait for the train, the Guards were sitting on a bench at the station. Nubila had stopped drinking her smoothie halfway through the Ensign's question and just waited him out.

And with the question hanging in the air, she waited some more.

…she waited, looking the poor, unsuspecting newbie dead in the eyes, barely moving to breathe as he grew more and more uncomfortable and fidgeted. “Ensign…” she intoned with a deadpan ‘nothing’ expression on her face. “How many fliers with a broken wing do you know?”

His eyes scrunched down, quickly trying to think of what to say. “Well, I mean…”

“For argument's sake,” she interrupted him. “Let’s just say you know… three, ok? Of those three, how many do you think fully recover from it?” She turned her head away, looking along the station’s platform, making sure they were still privately speaking. This early in the evening there’s still very few ponies making a trip west.

“Sir, I don't think–”

“That's right. You didn't ‘think’.” Nubila's head turned slowly, menacingly, back as her voice became a steadily measured pounding with each carefully chosen phrase, painting a mental image impossible to ignore. Her eyes tightened, holding the poor Ensign’s gaze as if she were grabbing him by the ears. “Because zero of them come away one-hundred percent. There's some that learn to change flight styles to cope with their injuries, enough that you might never know they'd been hurt. Some never get past the trauma and choose to live out their time as a Nightwalker, gliding from low-heights to the ground because they’re terrified they’ll break something again. But you can bet they were going through traumatizing hours in critical care wards, hoping they didn't shatter a flight-shoulder joint. Because if they did there's every chance in the world they'd either lose function in that wing or need it amputated entirely. And if they sever a ligament, a wing can get twisted around from pain panic. And if that happens the tendons will twist up, cut off the blood supply, and the wing can die too quickly to be saved.”

The ensign’s eyes had grown larger and wider, his lips draining of colour as he imagined exactly the situation Nubila was describing. Breaking a leg was one thing, but the idea of twisting it so hard it simply dies off the body was simply unfathomable to him before.

“So,” Nubila took one more sip off her drink, pointed the straw at the poor Ensign and continued slowly. “The next time you wonder about him just remember: he was not a guard enlistee. He didn’t sign up to lose a wing. The LGR offered to help him grow and we failed him. It's our responsibility to do what we can to make up for the accident that happened while he was under our care.”

Author's Notes:

A while ago, I had seen a recruitment poster, inviting ponies to join the Lunar Guards. It took a little hunting but I finally found it again! Many thanks to TexasUberAlles for this... because I needed to write myself out of a corner with that Ensign and this was the best way to go.

• Batpony (Pegasus)
• Saberhorn (Unicorn)
• Nightwalker (Earth)

Am I still here? Yes.. and I do have several ideas still working in the back of my head.

The Grazing Old Goat

In Batlinsburgh there is a rhyming picture book story with a cute title of “The Grazing Old Goat”. It’s a relatively new foalhood story, but slowly gaining popularity out there. It took a little while for me to track it down, but the author remains a mystery. Maybe it's just a local story from long ago, or brought in from the old mountain cave families. In any event it was too beautiful for me NOT to include.

And yes; I cried too.

There once was a Goat
with a white-speckled coat
and ears too long to stand.

She wandered away
chewing grass and hay
And never had anything planned.

She traveled along,
Never singing a song,
And stopped at a village a while.

She told of her walk,
How she never would balk
When grassways turned into tile.

She regaled of her travels,
How miles unraveled,
Of languages needing to be learned.

And after her stay,
She’d wile away.
And never a bridge had she burned.

One day, a surprise!
She found she’d arrived
Back at her home starting place.

She’d come home full circle
Not planned, but still thankful.
And tears streamed down her old face.

The town had turned out
To welcome and shout.
“You’re home! We’ve everyone missed you!

“Please tell us the tales
Of the streams, plains, and gales.”
And all remained silent and gave heed to.

She told them the stories
Of roads and of glories.
How everyone taught something new.

Her birthday, they decided
Let’s make her delighted.
A party inviting everyone through.

And as the day came
The creatures remained
But the Old Grazing Goat made no sound.

For her home turned up empty,
The search for her lengthy.
But a hoofwritten note there was found!

“I've set out again,
To find some new friends.
So I send you all off with a kiss.

“Remember your names,
Your food, stories, and games.
You're friends now; enjoy that bliss.

“One day I’ll return
And I hope that you’ve learned:
I taught you all from your own lives.

“Help one another
Like sisters and brothers.
Because we are all of the same tribes.”