//------------------------------// // Breakfast With The King // Story: Dark Arts and Kind Hearts // by Boomstick Mick //------------------------------// The morning sun was just beginning to peek over the snowy crags beyond the window pane, the eastern light spilling over the snowy terrain like a wave of shimmering platinum. Fluttershy groaned and drew the thick comforter over her head to shield herself from the intruding incandescence. The cruel rays of firstlight exacerbated the ache in her head, which was rivaled only by that of the ache between her legs. The way her husband had ravaged her on their first night together, she would never forget that pain as long as she lived: wincing, whimpering, sobbing and gripping the sheets while he so eagerly relieved her of her maidenhood. After he was finally finished with her, she rolled away from him and sobbed into her pillow until sleep finally took her. Fluttershy's train of thought was interrupted when she detected a rustling behind her. Her early morning somnolence was now beginning to give way to acuity. It was her husband. Her husband was right behind her... Her pulse quickened as she dared to look back at him. Ever-so-slowly - Sombra was beginning to rise. He sat up, stretched, yawned. It was a surreal experience witnessing how the most infamous dictator in Equestrian history started his day, his eyes sleepily narrowed, his raven mane laying in tussled, disorganized tumbles down his back. Something about the way he looked at that moment was picturesque. His appearance, as bestial as it was, seemed to hold a dark, otherworldly beauty - until the moment he turned his head to look at her. Their eyes met, and just like that he was terrifying again. "My queen," he said, "did you sleep well?" Fluttershy timidly pulled the blanket up to her chin and forced a nod. "That is good to know." His eyes narrowed astutely. "I hurt you, didn't I?" Unsure of how she should respond, Fluttershy feigned ignorance. "I-I'm not sure what you mean." "Last night." He gently brushed her cheek with the back of his hoof. "It was hardly proper form to be so... Vigorous - on our first night together." The talk was getting Fluttershy flustered. She tried to disappear under the blankets, blushing a deeper shade of red than the wine she had consumed the night before. "I, uh... It's... Okay." "Do not hide from me." She could feel his body shifting under the blankets. He pressed himself against her, allowing her to feel how warm he was. She could feel the blanket being peeled away from her, and all she could see when she opened her eyes was him looking down at her, with the most sinister pair of bedroom eyes she had ever witnessed. Trapping her between his arms, he lowered himself until she could feel the heat in his breath, his long black hair tumbling over his bare shoulders and caressing her muzzle. "A husband should take his bride gently on their first night, wouldn't you agree?" he purred into her ear. Fluttershy closed her eyes, shuttering. She felt his muzzle brushing against her neck, tracing a gentle trail to her lips. The Queen let out a muffled whimper of discontent. That was when the bedchamber door flew open. The sudden interruption startled poor Fluttershy. She tried to pull away from her husband, but his grasp was as unyielding as iron. The King's reaction was less urgent than hers was. Unhindered and unstartled, he slowly broke away from the kiss to give the interruption an annoyed sideways glare. "What is it, Ethey?" "E-ethey?" Still pinned to her back, Fluttershy had to crane her head to see around her husband's thick, knotted arm. The child-like mare's expression bore a look of shock. She just stood there, reddening, blinking inarticulately. "Well?" Sombra said impatiently, after a few unbearably awkward moments. "I, uh... I seem to have interrupted something." "Yes, you did," came Sombra's curt answer. "I-I-I'm t-terribly sorry, my king!" Ethey made for a hasty exit. "I'll just come back la—" The king's horn glowed. The door suddenly slammed shut before her, barring her retreat. "Speak," Sombra commanded. Ethereal Moon whipped around to face him, a red flush brightening the tips of her ears like Hearth's Warming Eve lights. She pushed her glasses up her muzzle and said, "I-I can just come back later, if it please your grace!" "Neigh!" Somba said. "Mine ear is yours. Speak, but be quick about it." "I, uh... B-breakfast, sire. The servants await your company in the dining hall." Sombra looked annoyed. "Breakfast." He looked down at Fluttershy, as if she was a piece of unfinished business he was eager to return to. "I have an appetite of another sort that demands sating." The king's reply set Fluttershy to trembling beneath her husband. "Uhm. Okay, but you should know that— "Come back in fifteen minutes," The King said, cutting her off in a tone that brokered no argument. "If that is your wish, sire. But you—" "Fifteen minutes!" Sombra's horn glowed again. The door abruptly flew open. An aura of magical light surrounded the tiny adviser, and she was suddenly ejected from the bed chamber with a girlish squeal of dismay. Sombra was sure to close the door before he turned his attention back to his bride. "Now, then," he said. "Where were we?" Fluttershy turned her head and closed her eyes, the clefts of her trembling forelegs grasping at the sheets in anticipation. There was a sudden rapping at the door. "My king," came Etereal Moon's muffled voice from behind the wooden barrier, "you told your subjects to convene for breakfast at Eastlight. It is true that they fear you, but do you think they'll truly respect you if you exempt yourself from your own rules whenever it suits your fancy?" There was something about that that seemed to halt Sombra's advances. The words of that tiny little mare on the other side of the door had somehow reached him. Fluttershy was so grateful, she could kiss her. "It wouldn't make a good first impression, my king," added the adviser. The king sighed as he acquiesced to the exhortations. He dismounted from his bride, rolled out of bed, and shuffled sullenly to the fire place where he had disrobed the night before. Fluttershy looked down and realized that she had been clutching at the blankets so fiercely that her hooves had turned white. She released them and winced at the stinging sensation of blood flowing through them once more. The adviser led them to the feasting hall once they were ready to break their fasts with their subjects. The king looked as menacing as ever with his polished armor adorned, his hair a black flame or thick locks that spilled over his dragon bone crown, and his ever present scowl. Fluttershy was finding herself to be less afraid of that vicious look in his eyes. Unsettled by them, perhaps, though she was no longer utterly terrified, as she had been the first time they had laid eyes upon each other in the Crystal Castle. She couldn't help but wonder again as to what he was. Perhaps she could find the courage to ask him? She would need to wait until they were alone, no doubt. "I think you will be pleased with breakfast, my king," Ethey began, as they traversed the long, stony hallway. It wasn't as dark or cold as it had been the night before. Somepony had mounted scented torches into the sconces, which bathed the labyrinthine halls in a warm, sweet smelling, orange glow. Fluttershy watched the torchlight glance off of the little ivory skull that bounced around on Ethey's scarlet ribbon, a somehow cute yet macabre little trinket. "I swear, when I walked by the kitchen this morning, the smell alone may have been enough to make me gain five pounds." "I must admit that I'm looking forward to seeing how the culinary arts have advanced over the years," the king said. He eats food? Fluttershy thought. She didn't know why this came to her as a revelation. Of course he did. He wasn't a vampire. He wasn't a ghoul. Whether or not he was a monster was still up for debate, however. The feast hall was bustling with cooks and servants who ran about in a frenzied panic to have things ready for the king and queen upon their arrival. It was a large room, much like the front lobby. The roof high above featured an incurved stained crystal dome, the rays of the morning light filtering through it into vivid streams of scarlet and jade and amber. A soft red carpet extended from the entrance of the parlor. It ran the full length of the room, betwixt two rows of long wooden benches, and ended before a large, ebony dais. The steps were shiny like black polished marble, and atop it loomed two large chairs: one black as pitch, and the other a light, feminine blue. Their material looked soft and warm to the touch, like fleece or velvet. Fluttershy gawked at the decadent blue chair. "Is that my throne?" she wondered, the thought of being a queen still so alien to her. Sitting atop that royal dais, she'd be so high above everyone else, with the exception of her king. It was such a strikingly gorgeous thing to look upon with its blues and polished wood and gold trim. If truth be told, it looked more like a work of art than it did a mere place for her to park her rump. A deep hum that almost sounded like an amused chuckle reverberated from the king's throat. "No, little dove, that is not your throne. It is merely a place for you to relax and enjoy your meals. I promise to build for you a proper throne that will far exceed the quality of that pitiful thing you see there... Although, I must admit, I like the color." He looked down at her. "It will bring out the sapphire in your eyes." Little dove? The endearment made Fluttershy feel strange. "I like your chair as well?" she attempted. "It brings out the color of your..." Soul? "Coat," Ethey coughed helpfully. "Coat," Fluttershy repeated with a nod. Sombra hummed apathetically. "You are too kind." He led Fluttershy through the throngs of terrified servants. They were throwing themselves down the moment they noticed them. One cook was so fraught that she must have forgotten she was transporting a platter of food. She threw herself before the king, and dozens of sweets were scattered as the shiny dome-shaped platter cover rolled away. Fluttershy's senses honed in on the most intoxicating scent that had ever graced her sinuses, and she suddenly realized how ravenous she was. Sombra placed his hoof under the prostrated girl's chin and guided her gaze to meet with his. "There is a special place in Tartarus for those who waste food." He admonished. "Remember that well, lass." "I'll remember," the girl whimpered, her yellow, catlike eyes shimmering like liquid gold behind their veil of terror-induced tears. She was a bat pony. A rare site in the Chrystal Empire. "See that you do." The king left her there, sidestepping the sweets and continuing on toward the dais. Fluttershy looked down at the mortified cook. She placed a sympathetic hoof on her shoulder. "Here," she offered, "let me help you clean this up." Ethey tapped her on the back. "A queen does not sully her hooves with such menial tasks," she reminded her. "I'll get sompony to help her clean up, you go be with your king; it's your first meal together." The cook wiped her eyes. "I'll be fine. I have another batch in the oven." "There, you see that?" Ethey said. "She says she's fine." "My queen?" Sombra called out to her. He was sitting on his haunches at the threshold of the dais. "Do hurry. I am famished, and I am willing to wager that you are as well." Fluttershy spared the cook one last glance before pushing herself on to meet with her king. They ascended the steps together, higher and higher, until they reached their destination. Sombra lifted Fluttershy off her hooves and placed her upon her seat first. "Oh," she said, surprised by the sudden display of chivalry. "T-thank you." The king regarded her words with nothing more than a lazy hum of acknowledgment as he turned to his own seat. He traced the edge of his hoof along the chair's fine material, as if he was trying to decide if it was worthy of him. It was as if time itself stood still for everything and everyone but him. The queen, the adviser, the guards and all the servants watched and beheld their king as he took his place of authority. He leaned back against the cushioning, laid a bent elbow on the padded arm, then rested his head upon his hoof. Never had he looked so kingly than when he did this: The bored, almost contemptuous expression in his fearsome eyes, the bravado in his relaxed pose, his imposing size, everything about him seemed to scream authority; with his body language alone he commanded nothing but the utmost respect. One pony down below knelt, prompting another to do the same, which, in term, triggered a domino effect of frightened subjects who dared not risk an impertinent display of nonconformance. Sombra sighed. "Enough with the supplication, already," he said, his mighty voice echoing through the feasting hall. "You've bent your knees enough for an entire life time. I am hungry." A fine, lacquered table was set before the king and queen as the castle staff gathered at the benches down below. Ethereal Moon was seated at the king's right side, while a steward was assigned to the edge of the table to cater to the king's every beck and call. The bat pony chef Fluttershy had met earlier pushed a trolley piled high with platters and dishes to the edge of the dais. The steward, a strapping red headed Pegasus of fifteen, moved quickly down the dais on feathered wings to obtain one of the platters. He placed the dish on the table and removed the cover, liberating a tantalizing plume of steam that had been accumulating inside. Fluttershy salivated as she detected a hint of something akin to the intermingled aromas of cheese cake and pumpkin pie. The little rounded treats were a creamy orange color with swirls that spiraled into a nucleus of something white and sweet. Sombra selected one, tasted it, then looked at the little morsel with an expression of fervent approval before inhaling it in one bite. "These are delectable." "Those are my famous piping hot pumpkin cream cheese rolls," the chef called up to them from the foot of the dais. "Do they please, your majesty?" "Indeed, they do." The king piled six more onto his plate and offered the rest of the platter up to his bride. "My queen, you must try these." Fluttershy took a moment to balk at the image of her feared and terrible husband going at a plate of sweets like a child being introduced to candy for the first time. "Are they really that good?" She reached out and accepted it. One modest nibble was all it took for her to realize just how bland everything she had ever tasted was up to that point. "It- it's good. Really good." She devoured the rest of it in the most ladylike fashion she could manage. She was hungry. So hungry... And these treats were so delicious. Despite being taken away from her friends, despite being forced to marry, despite everything - she smiled. Her gaze moved to the chef who stood poised near the dais. "These are really yummy. I had no idea that something this tasty existed." The chef's smile was ecstatic. "Oh, you're such a darling to say so!" The young table steward was quick to whisk away the discarded platters when the king and queen were finished with them. He would then reappear just as swiftly with another course handed off to him by the chef. The mushrooms had been sauteed in garlic and butter, drizzled over with flecks of melting goat cheese, then finally topped off with freshly shredded spinach before being wrapped in a steaming hot crepe. There was a pyramid of them stacked high on a large rounded dish, accompanied with small cups filled with a sweet sauce to dip them in. Fluttershy couldn't remember a time when she had eaten half so well, and from the way her husband ate, neither could he. Her king's appetite was the fiercest thing she had witnessed in him yet. He was mopping up a reservoir of crepe residue on his plate with the last pumpkin roll when he gave the table steward a sideways glance. "Boy," he said, "Be a good lad and fetch your king some ale." "Ale?" The ginger pegasus tilted his head. "My king, the sun has only barely risen." "I did not ask for the time," the king replied. "I asked for ale." "Ale?" There was a shriek of excitement, and the bat pony chef was suddenly hovering above the king's table, her black batty wings beating rapidly "Did you say ale!" Her exuberant smile revealed a pearly white snaggletooth that hooked over the corner of her bottom lip like a tiny fang. "Would you like to try some of mine? I have a few barrels of my signature Blood Moon. It was the favorite of the castle tavern back home. Best ale you will ever have! It will be worth more than gold some day!" Sombra cocked an invested eyebrow. "Blood Moon?" The chef nodded with the enthusiasm of one who loved nothing more than conversing over sweets and ales and other topics of culinary interest. "It's a specialty of mine. Well, more like my pride and joy: I use blood oranges instead of hops, and I ferment it with golden wheat instead of the traditional barley. I cure the yeast in honey, butter, and caramel to make it extra thick and malty. Or, if you'd like, I'm experimenting on a spiced pumpkin wine. 'Nevermore,' I said to myself one day, 'they make wine out of grapes, but why not pumpkins?' I love pumpkins, I mean, seriously, I'm obsessed with them. You can make so many yummy things out of them. I figured that it'd only be a matter of time before--" "Enough." The king's eyes gleamed with fascination. "This Blood Moon ale of yours. I would try it. Bring it at once." "Aye, my king!" the eccentric bat pony saluted before she twisted about on her black wings, and then she was off. Ethereal Moon's amethyst aura of magical energy enveloped a pitcher on the table. "My king," she said, her horn twinkling as she conducted the pitcher above her glass. "Shall I get them?" She pushed her glasses up her muzzle, and the pitcher began tip, filling her cup with a stream of ice cold goats milk. Fluttershy was just settling into her seat with her stomach set to bursting when she heard her husband respond, "Neigh. The time is nigh, but not yet upon us. I will present them to her after everyone has filled their bellies, and not a second before." The adviser attacked a particularly large crepe on her plate. Its contents spilled out of the opening on the other side as she bit into it. "Very well," she said, frowning down at the crepe's evasive innards. Fluttershy pondered the meaning of the exchange, but it was quickly forgotten. It was difficult to focus while watching the ponies down below feasting and congregating. It evoked a memory of her having pancakes with her friends in Twilight's castle. Something warm and wet ran down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away and swallowed the sudden surge of emotion; crying wasn't going to do her any good. It would only attract attention to herself, and that was the last thing she needed. The bat girl returned to the dais with a wooden box between her front hooves. In her company was a hulking earthpony who had a barrel lashed to his back. The brute painstakingly slogged it up the stairs, his knotted muscles bulging with every step. He undid the brass buckles of the straps over his chest with a loud leathery rasp, and the barrel rolled off his side and crashed to the ground. Without hesitating he bowed, turned, and made for a retreat, as if to escape before he could be noticed. The bat pony fluttered to the king's side and placed her wooden box on the ground next to the keg. The latches sang with a metallic cadence when she flicked them up, then she lifted the lid to reveal a row of broad rimmed cups that looked like clear glass bowls sitting on stems. Each one looked big enough to hold a pint. There was also a leather sleeve sewn in to the under part of the lid, which housed two silver rods. The king sat back in his seat and steepled his hooves over his chest. "Nevermore," he said, watching her as she worked. "Is that your name?" "Aye," the bat pony replied, screwing the two threaded silver rods together. When joined, one end of the device was a tapered spigot, and the other end was pointed like the tip of a stake. "A dark name for such a chipper personality," Ethey commented. "I know, right?" Nevermore giggled a strange little giggle as she punched the sharp end of the rod into the lower portion of the keg. The device had turned out to be a tap. "What were my parents thinking?" She drew one of the bulbous glasses from the wooden box and commenced to filling it. It was no longer a wonder as to how the ale got its name. A rivulet of blood red fluid drank in the light from all around it as it filled the rounded glass. She filled it until a layer of golden froth foamed over the rim, the crimson inside sparkling like a ruby whenever the light kissed it. Nevermore sniffed at it before taking an experimental sip. She shuttered euphorically, wings twitching, spine tingling. "It's perfect!" she said, like a mad scientist upon finding the cure for mortality. "Best batch yet!" She placed it on the table for Sombra to take. "And I dare say that it's fit for a king." "We shall see." The king wrapped his foreleg about the stem of the glass, lifted the wide bowled rim to his lips, and drank deep. Nevermore bit her lower lip, looking like she could go mad with anticipation. "What do you think?" "Exquisite," said the king. "I'll have another glass. One for my bride, as well." "Oh, I, n-no, thank you," declined Fluttershy, who had never had a taste for beer of any kind, be it lager, ale, wheat, stout, sour, or porter. "Pity," the king said. "This ale is divine." Fluttershy had never truly comprehended the meaning of the expression 'The King's Portion' until she saw how much food and ale her husband could put away. He must have consumed half of the keg, and she speculated that the amount of crepes and pumpkin rolls he devoured was more than she and all her friends back home could eat combined. After her husband tipped the rim of his last cup against his lips and drained that red ale he had loved so much, he sank back into his chair with a deep sigh of satisfaction. He was quite for a very long time. "Are you okay?" Fluttershy asked, no longer able to bare the silence. She was beginning to wonder if he fell asleep. "Little dove," the king began, opening his eyes to look out at nothing of particular interest. "I am more okay than you could possibly imagine." He turned to look at her, dark eyes pale and barren of all emotion. Fluttershy had never seen such a haunted expression. "A thousand years... No food to fill my belly, forever hungry. No sleep to soothe my weariness. Perpetually alone, the only feeling being that of the icy gales cutting into me as I roamed relentlessly from place to place as naught but a shadow." He closed his eyes again and rested back in his chair. "This is my first meal since then. I am more than okay, my queen. I'm simply rapturous." That was a response Fluttershy wasn't expecting. "Wait, you don't mean your thousand year banishment, do you? You... You were conscious the whole time?" The king stretched in his chair and, instead of answering her, he said, "Ethey, the time is now." The little adviser had long since finished eating, and was now busying herself with the painting of her hooves. She extended a foreleg to inspect her work, revealing a freshly polished hoof that gleamed like a shiny black crystal. "Yes, my king." She blew on her hoof a couple times to ensure that it was dry, pushed her glasses up her muzzle, then stepped down from her seat. "I'll meet you lovebirds down on the floor." And then she descended the steps. The king followed her with his red eyes until she exited the feasting hall. He sighed once more with a contented hoof over his belly, hardened his expression, pulled himself from his seat. And just like that, he was Sombra again; large, brooding, sneering, cold, and terrifying. "Come, my bride," he said, waiting for her at the head of the stairs. "It is time." "Time for what?" Fluttershy had to ask. "It is time for you to receive your royal wedding gifts. I would bestow them upon you in front of our subjects, so that they will know you as my queen and theirs, supreme and undisputed." Those were two words that had never been used to describe Fluttershy. Shy and unobtrusive, maybe, but supreme and undisputed? She sighed and hopped down from her seat. What was she going to do, say no? "Walk proudly," the king demanded. "You slouch and shuffle like you're being walked to the gallows. You're a queen now, and you shall conduct yourself as such." Fluttershy sighed again, corrected her posture, then continued on. I am a queen, wed to Sombra, the darkest king in Equestrian history, She reminded herself, doubting she'd ever get used to the title. She dutifully fell in beside her husband and they descended the stairs together. The steward glided to the foot of the dais to meet them brandishing a large bugle. He placed his lips on the mouthpiece and let loose with one mighty blast. The startled eyes of every subject snapped to the direction of the noise. Sombra's icy glare washed over them in wave of petrified silence. "I trust your meal was a pleasant one," he began. There was no need for him to even raise his voice to make it be heard, for it was so deep and resonating that it echoed off the walls of the large parlor. He began a slow, methodical pace down the red carpet, between the rows of tables, where his loyal and terrified subjects were seated. The ponies seated near the edge of the benches would shrink back when the king walked past them. One of them was a little girl who dropped her patchwork rag doll in her fright. She made to reclaim it, but her mother pulled her back and locked her in a protective embrace. Fluttershy, unsure of what to do, just stood at the foot of the stairs and listened to her husband's speech. "To serve me will be a privilege. Every meal shall be a banquet, and every income shall be a fortune, this I promise you. I only ask for your fealty. A small fee, is it not?" Some of the ponies were whispering to each other at this point. Most were wide eyed and attentive. Children clung to their parents and the parents clung to their children. "Fealty," the king continued. "A word that means none to most, but everything to some. Fealty, to me, is like currency, which you shall all pay me, and in return, I offer you protection and rewards beyond your wildest imaginations." Sombra stopped when he reached the end of the rows, then he turned and raised a powerful hoof in a gesture of absolution. "It is with your fealty that I shall extend my reach across this wild, inhospitable land. The brigand's hook is mine, and soon it will be all of yours! Make no mistake, my loyal subjects, I am here to conquer. I will kill every last warlord who dare lay their claim to your land, and I will destroy every manner of savage who roam it in search of their next victim. I will lay siege to their keeps, I will burn their fields, I will destroy their ports, I will kill their petty lords, and my dominion will extend across this land, and we will together forge a great nation that Celestia and her intrepid band of pompous Alicorns could only dream of! All who seek shelter within my halls, my cities, my castles, need only pledge their fealty." The king began to pace toward the dais. He stopped and observed the doll on the ground the little girl had dropped. He swept it up with his hoof, observed its button eyes, its stitched smile, its ripped seam at the end of its leg. An aura of black light began to glow around the tear, and the wounded cloth mended itself shut. The king then held the doll out for the filly to take. "The feasting hall is no place for toys, sweetling." The mother cautiously allowed the child to reach out and take her doll, as if the king could at any moment strike like a venomous snake. "You fixed her," the filly said, looking down at the hoof where the rip had been. She held her toy out for her mother to see. The mare, clutching her child again, bowed her head in silent thanks. Sombra acknowledged her with the slightest dip of his head before he swept his gaze out to all in attendance. "For those of you who would deny me the pleasure of your loyalty," the went on, "you are free to leave." There were clusters of ponies within the crowd that broke into murmurs. "You are not chattel. You are builders, artists, laborers, workers who shall help me build my kingdom. I promise that no chain or fetter shall be clapped on you as I draw breath. All of you who have come, you came of your own free will. I'm sure Celestia offered you some sort of severance, or promised you some kind of reward upon your return once the repairs and renovation of this home is finished. It is by your free will that you have come, and it is by your free will that you will leave. I would beseech thee all, come to me if you ever grow weary of the rewards that service to me has brought you, and I shall arrange for a carriage to take you back to your precious Crystal Empire, where Celestia shall rule over you once more. This offer comes with no expiration." There were ponies in the crowd who's eyes were now flashing with the hope of new opportunity. Some of them may have been desperate for the chance of a fresh start. There were pessimists in the crowd as well, who shook their heads or traded hushed proclamations of skepticism with their neighbors. Sombra sauntered his way up the carpet, stopped at the dais, and then took his spot next to his queen. Fluttershy could feel his large hoof on her shoulder. He pulled her in a little closer and announced, "However, I can not do this alone, for a king is no proper king without a queen to rule at his side, and I have chosen the fairest of them all. She made a king of me, and I made a queen of her. And it is with these gifts I bestow upon her, that I wish to express my affection and eternal gratitude. Come ye all, lendeth every eye unto me and bare witness the gifts I bestow upon my bride." Ethereal Moon had not made a sound when she entered the room, for when Fluttershy finally noticed her, she was Sitting atop two levitating cedar chests that had been lashed together. She floated them down the hall and landed before the king and queen and all their subjects. She broke her telepathic link with the containers, then began a new one with the tapped keg at the top of the dais. "Nevermore," she sang, placing the keg gingerly on the floor before her, "be a dear and help me fill some cups, so that we may toast our king and queen." The wild eyed bat pony was leaning against the side door of the hall which served as an entrance to the kitchens. It was with all the gusto in the world that she began skimming over the tables, gathering mugs and cups and horns as she flew. Fluttershy blinked her blue eyes in silent disbelief at the ponies all gathering around to pay homage to her. Her gaze would flash from her husband to the crowd. She hadn't realized up this point how big a role she played in Sombra's plans up till now. I made him a king? She thought. The proclamations he had just made, the impassioned speech, the declarations of love. He seemed so off kilter to the Sombra she read about. Nevermore filled cup after cup and Ethereal Moon gathered them up to pass around to everyone. The king's horn glowed and the first chest opened. He drew from it a light blue cape that shimmered and flowed with every movement. The queen could feel her king draping it down her back, its fine, cool material contouring to every curve of her form as it flowed down her sides like the bluest of waters. The platinum clasp clicked effortless about around her neck. The queen could then feel her husband's hooves working their way up to her shoulders. "What say you?" he said to a stallion in the crowd. "Is she not the pinnacle of regality?" The stallion Sombra had pointed to was one of the smilers who seemed tempted by Sombra's offer of protection and plenty within his walls. The stallion stepped forward and accepted a cup from Ethey. "Aye, sire," he said, with only the slightest twinge of nervousness in his tone. "Cadence herself couldn't hold a candle to her." Sombra scoffed. "And if she tried, the wax would simply melt, so warm is our queen's radiance." The quip scored a few chuckles and sighs from the crowd. Fluttershy could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. She wasn't used to being doted over so much. The next gift was a ponderous one: a curved piece of something that looked like burned iron. Fluttershy wasn't sure what to make of it. "Uhm," she said, still nervous from all the attention she was getting, "w-what is it?" Everyone in the throng looked to Sombra for the answer. "Dragonbone," he said. "The remains of a beast I slayed a millennia ago." He levitated the object for all to see. "This was a section of its jaw, which was dashed upon impact with mine hoof." "You expect us to believe that you killed a full grown dragon with your bare hooves?" A castle guard challenged from the crowd. "What are you going to tell us next? That you traveled with a company of breezies to find it? Was there a magic moon door that could only be opened by the light of the full moon?" Two other guards sprang forth to restrain him. One clasped his hoof over his comrades mouth before another sarcastic remark could come tumbling out of it. "There was no 'moon door' that I can recall." Sombra said reflectively. "And I did not find the dragon. The dragon found me... But that is a tale for another time. It will make a good song for the children." "You're giving me a dragon's bone?" Fluttershy wondered. "Aye," said Sombra, "but it is so much more than that." The ponies in attendance awaited an explanation, but Sombra must have seen it fit to show them what he meant instead of simply telling them. "Behold." His eyes glowed, redder, hotter than they ever had before. "Dragonbone," he winced, "It's the damnedest thing." He barred his fangs. A drop of sweat ran down from his scalp. Ponies swiveled and oscillated as the ground below them vibrated from the intensity of the arcane force that was necessary to mold dragonbone like clay. The enamel went from red, to white hot, until finally liquefying and melting away into a searing puddle of white on the ground, leaving only the calcified alloy underneath. Veins in Sombra's head pulsed and pounded as the purified bone crunched, cracked, blazed, then began to take shape into a large glowing hot ring. He let out an exhale of relief when the deed was finally done. He espied the benches and grasped with his telepathy a pitcher of cool water. He poured it over the blazing hot ring, sizzling and hissing like a pot full of angry snakes, a cloud of steam enveloped the object. Sombra discarded the pitcher, fanned away the steam with a swirl of his cape, and he held the treasure the dragonbone had become - aloft for all to behold. It was ornamented beautifully, like polished silver, yet stronger than the strongest of steels. It reflected the light from the crystal dome up on high with a ripple of iridescent luster. Fluttershy beheld the object glowing in her husband's magic light. It was a crown, much like his, only smaller and far more beautiful. He stood behind her and placed it gently atop her brow. "Now, you are a true queen," he whispered in her ear. His horn glittered, and the enamel that had puddled on the floor began to stand and form, rippling like milk, then hardening into a polished surface of the purest ivory. Fluttershy bore witness to her reflection, unable to identify the mare she saw in the mirror. "Long live the queen," Sombra said. "Long live the queen!" Nevermore's glass collided with Ethey's, and the two mare's drank deep from their cups. The audience looked around and murmured and whispered, until finally, "Long live the queen," broke from the lips of someone in the crowd. The stallion who had compared Fluttershy's beauty to Cadence's was lifting his mug. "Long live the queen," others were joining in, lifting their mugs then drinking. "Long live the queen." it became a chant. "Long live the queen!" It was now a cadence. It echoed off the walls, through every room of the mansion. "Sombra turned her around and kissed her for all to see. He didn't savage her with an opened mouth as he had done before. With soft lips, a gentle touch, and a sweet caress, it was a true kiss. His lips then brushed her ear, and he whispered, "Long live the queen."