Luna’s gaze quickly went back to the window, the surreal splendor of the tall buildings and the sight of ponies from so far below felt similar to what she was only used to witnessing on her own balcony. It took her a few moments to look back to Macintosh, who looked reasonably uncomfortable despite her joy and confusion. “This view is magnificent… Once again, I’m awed by the power of your recollection.”
“Afraid you’re mistaken, Miss Luna,” Macintosh replied, his voice soft, “I ain’t never been far into Manehatten.”
Luna’s muzzle hung open, there was no way. “You mean to say that you imagined all of this?”
“I’ve seen pictures,” he replied, “and my sister told me a fair amount ‘bout the city, and I’ve read up on it quite a bit. My mind probably just filled in the blanks.”
“Still…” Luna shook her head, still recovering from the revelation, “This is unprecedented! To think, this dream looks almost as lifelike as your last one, but it is all a product of your thoughts!”
Macintosh only nodded, sitting straighter in his seat.
“This means…” Luna trailed off, casting her eyes around the room before settling on the stallion, who she now noticed was suit-clad, “You really have spent a lot of time fantasising about this, have you not?”
Macintosh’s eyes seemed to harden; it was an unpleasant sight. When he spoke, she could hear a gruff cadence to his words, his snout seemed to flare as he exhaled. “Beggin’ your pardon, miss, but I don’t really see that it’s your place to be askin’ me that. I said you could stay on the farm with me, I said you could visit me again. I never said you could start interrogatin’ me on my personal thoughts, now did I?”
Luna felt her head bow from his words, almost instinctually. It was strange, she wasn’t used to having that reaction to anyone, usually her commanding presence was superseded only by Celestia, but this stallion’s disdain was powerful, almost tangible. Murmuring, she looked up to find his judging eyes. “I am sorry, I did not mean to presume. I’m afraid I may have got a little bit excited upon my discovery, I do not mean to pry.”
A short nod was all she received in return. Luna was torn. On one hoof, Macintosh was clearly somewhere between mildly irritated and greatly furious, but she couldn’t tell which. On the other, she had grown accustomed to silence in his presence. Rather than try to strike another conversation, she resigned herself to staring out of the window, taking in the city she might have sworn was as expansive as it appeared if not for her knowledge that it was make-belief.
After some time, she felt a presence near her. She still said nothing, and together the pair looked out upon the cacophonous activity, the fictitious denizens. She admired the architecture, unlike anything she had seen in another city, and upon greater focus found there to be a building even taller than the one they were in, standing majestically in the distance, an iron sentinel to guard the ponies below.
“I have thought about this a lot.”
In her daydreams, Luna had almost forgotten the preceding conversation. Rather than turning, she continued to stare out, finding wonder after wonder to mix in with her swirling thoughts. “About being a businesspony?”
“‘Bout being more than the perceived sum of my upbringin’. This dream comes to me ‘cause it’s easy, it’s linear, it’s logical, and I know ‘bout runnin’ a business.”
“I assume this isn’t the only one you have then?”
“It ain’t. The farm’s the most common though. We dream ‘bout the things we’re most familiar with, right?”
“While this is true,” Luna began, “many ponies also dream of the fantastic. With your imagination, I’m sure there are ceaseless possibilities. You could soar through the air, visit to exotic places, be a king for a day.”
“I don’t want none of that,” he answered.
Luna turned to see only a straight jaw, and one eye trained on the pavement below.
“That stuff ain’t gonna do me no good. I already go a lot of places, I ain’t got no place in the sky, and I definitely ain’t no king.”
Luna raised an eyebrow. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe that during my struggle with the tantibus, you envisioned yourself as an alicorn?”
“Well, I figured what’s both powerful and feasible? Naturally it was my first conclusion.”
It was so straightforward, so premeditated. The way Macintosh answered questions, it felt as if he had the answers written down, ready to pluck from thin air at a moment’s notice. “Are you saying you think you could become an alicorn?”
“Can’t anyone?” Macintosh answered. “What’s it mean to be an alicorn, anyway? I don’t think I’d wanna be one.”
Luna couldn’t help but see that as an odd question. What did it mean to be an alicorn? “I cannot say that I have considered it in a very long time… But I once believed it to mean that a pony was strong and pure of spirit, selfless and loving.”
Macintosh turned to face her, his face pensive. “And you don’t think that no more?”
“...I have proven that is not the case with my past actions.”
“And there’s the reason I think I’d pass,” Macintosh sighed, “I couldn’t walk around purporting to be a noble god or anythin’ like that, or let ponies treat me as one either. Deep down, I’d know that I was a pony, just like everypony else, and that bein’ an alicorn didn’t make me all good, or anythin’ like that.”
“Then what do you wish to be?” Luna asked. Her curiosity was powerful by now.
“Remembered, I think.”
Luna’s head tilted by instinct. She regarded Macintosh with wide eyes. How could a pony so self-assured be so unsure? “You mean to say you don’t know? I find it hard to believe that you have a vanity complex.”
Macintosh’s gaze didn’t stray from Luna, his mouth barely moved when he spoke, as if the words he produced were difficult for him to say aloud. “Truth is, I don’t know what I want. I’ve got a remarkable family, and I’ve always loved them with all my heart, but heavens know they outshine me at every turn. They don’t mean to do it either, bless ‘em, but they do. Granny was one of the settlers of Ponyville, and she’s so old, we don’t even know when she was born. She’s a bit of a legend around our parts, and she seems to know ponies from jus’ ‘bout everywhere.”
Luna wasn’t sure how she felt about Macintosh’s words, but she could tell they were earnest, he meant what he said. To think that such an incredible pony could be outshined by his entire family was astounding, but the mundanity of his work life did lend credence to that notion.
Macintosh didn’t even appear to be speaking to her now. He looked past her, something vaguely resembling resentment dancing in her eyes. It was a feeling Luna had once known well. “Applejack is one of the most important ponies in Equestria, and she’s still humble, still gets on with her life, don’t ask for no special favours. I deeply respect that, but truthfully the fact she found time to become a great hero like that makes no sense to me. Even my kid sister went and started her own business venture! Know what I do? I do what I’ve done my whole dagnabbed life, buck apples, haul apples, sell apples, and do the accounts. I do three quarters of our yearly harvest myself, and I take most of the other jobs too.”
Macintosh almost appeared to be seething right now, and Luna could understand why. If there was anything Luna could relate to, it was living in the shadow of one’s sister. For her it was more, she was literally the shadow to her sister’s light, the night to her day. Still, seeing such emotion from the stolid stallion was enough to stir her own upset, and she hoped she could calm him somehow. “Surely you do other things when you aren’t working?” she asked, her tone delicate, “You have have friends, hobbies?”
“Heh, you show me where the stallions my age in Ponyville congregate and I’ll be there in a flash. Honestly, I spend most of my alone time with a book, only other company is a young dragon.” Macintosh started to chuckle to himself. “He’s into this fantasy game, Ogres and Oubliettes, it’s called. Hate to admit it, but I’ve found myself pretty partial to the thing. Nice to escape from the farm life once in awhile, even if it is a silly fantasy.”
The only connection Luna could draw between this admission and herself was her tendency to be another pony in dreams, from time to time. Even then, she was often doing it to help the dreamer, but she had often found that being someone else could be quite liberating. “It may not be ideal, but it is something. Some ponies do not have the chance for even that release.”
“What ‘bout yourself?” Macintosh focused on her, his eyes intense, “What’d you do in your downtime?”
“My… Downtime?” Luna’s face twisted as she repeated the new, alien word.
“Yeah, when you ain’t raising the moon, or working with dreams.”
“Well...” Luna racked her brain, trying to think of a reasonable response. Eventually, one came to her. “I occasionally have other royal duties, and once a month I host the Night Court, in the remainder, I find myself sleeping.”
“That’s it?” Macintosh asked, his tone questioning, “No relaxation, no fun?”
Luna’s face darkened. “My station rarely affords such frivolities, I’m afraid.”
“Well, how long do you spend asleep?”
“Roughly twelve hours a night. I patrol the dreamscape for another eight.”
Macintosh raised an eyebrow. “That only makes twenty hours. Not only that, but d’you really need to be sleeping that long? I mean, I can’t say how tirin’ your job is, havin’ never done it myself, but I can’t imagine you need all that rest every night.”
Luna couldn’t help but cast her eyes to the floor. She had yet to explain the same thing to Celestia, but it was a difficult topic to broach. “It is… Hard to explain.”
“I mean, you’ve been visitin’ me the last couple nights, can’t imagine you’re still workin’ right now. What did you do in that time before you started comin’ to me?”
Luna hoped a short response would suffice.“Until recently, I frequented other dreams.”
“Friends of yours?” he asked.
“Indirectly,” she breathed, feeling a familiar quake in her legs all the same.
Macintosh was silent for a while, and while Luna was still intent on unravelling more about the stallion, she hoped he would not push the topic further.
“Are they old friends, Miss Luna?” he asked, his voice soothingly gentle, “Can you not see them in the waking world no more?”
A shudder struck through her body, her jaw locked. It was as if his voice alone was enough to draw a small affirmation from her, her head lightly dipping as she focused on her breathing.
“Presence of a dream is infinite, right?” he pressed, placing a strong but equally soft hoof on her back as she shivered in place. “That’s what you told me, Miss Luna.”
Shaking from the contact, Luna’s eyes settled on him once more. “Macintosh… I…”
He offered only a small smile. It was a simple, honest thing, something she could trust. “It’s alright, Miss Luna, I’ll listen.”
“All of my friends are dead…” the words washed out of her like a torrent of anguish, she was sure it was her first time speaking them aloud. “All of them, all gone. I hadn’t too many to begin with, but I… I remember them so well,” a sniffle, she felt a sob pierce her fading placidity as grief swiftly took over, “And I had a long time to get over that… A t-thousand years to come to terms with my actions, that I had abandoned them all, turned my backs on them.”
Blinking fiercely in an effort to fight away her oncoming tears, she spoke again. “When I was welcomed back into Equestria, I thought I was over it. I had a loving sister by my side again, I had all but conquered my demons, and I had six saviours to owe my eternal thanks to. I began to feel normal again, something I hadn’t felt in a very long time… I still felt guilt, but I knew deep in my heart that I couldn’t turn back time.”
Luna could feel how grave her tone was, she could almost sense the negative energy her thoughts and lamentations brought about, but she still spoke, revealing thoughts she had carried in solitude for years, some of them for millennia. Somehow, this stallion had been able to pull from her in a handful of words what her own sister had not managed to with millions. “Exploring the dreamscape, I learnt of the eternal nature of dreams. There, my friends remained, interactive ghosts for me to play with whenever I fancied, a way for me to pretend that I was somewhere I was not.”
Soon, it was loathing that spoke for her. “I became addicted. It was morbid, it was pathetic. Each night, once I had finished my duties, I would spend hours in the same dreams, living the same fantasies over and over, until eventually, it began to affect my own dreams, my waking thoughts too. I have been tormented by figments of the past, but the temptation is so great, I want to go back… I—”
Luna wasn’t so much interrupted as forced to stop speaking due to a sharp gasp. She looked down to find Macintosh had wrapped a hoof over her barrel, pulling her tight, and was beginning to stroke her mane from the other side. Gently, he eased her down to sitting, and together they laid as Luna finally let her tears free.
For a long time, she sobbed, and Macintosh did nothing but hold her tight, continuing to placate her. He didn’t speak, he didn’t offer condolences, he offered no empty words, likely because he knew that they would mean nothing. He had never been in Luna’s position, he couldn’t empathise with her, he could only try to understand the pain she had endured.
Luna felt that, she knew that once again she had had to be saved, and once again another pony had put their time into ensuring that she could vent her deepest desolation, only this time, it had worked. When Luna had cried until no more tears came, her heart felt lighter for having done so, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a very long time, not since banishing the tantibus, or seeing her sister again after so many years.
It was as if Macintosh knew, because right as she had this small epiphany, he spoke again. “I know you must be confused, Miss Luna, and I know that this must be difficult for you, but maybe I can help you through it. I think me and you could do a lot of good for each other, you hear?”
Her eyes red, she caught that same, vaguely affectionate smile she had seen only once before now. “I worry that I would drag you down into the same woes, that I would ruin you.”
At this, Macintosh grinned, and heavens was it infectious. “I think you’d have a tough job, Miss Luna, but you’re welcome to try.”
Maybe it was impulse. Maybe it was her fragile emotions. Maybe it was her attraction. All Luna knew was that in the breadth of a second, she found her lips brushing against Macintosh’s.
It was a soft, but equally powerful kiss. Chaste, but powerful, if a kiss could be such a thing. The electricity of the contact seemed to sap the last of the doubt from Luna’s mind; this was where she was meant to be, at least for now, by this pony’s side.
When she withdrew, she saw what appeared to be smug, satisfied smirk on Macintosh’s muzzle. “Reckon it counts when we’re in a dream?”
“I must admit,” Luna smiled despite herself, “it did feel quite real.”
“Maybe we should keep that fact in mind, eh?” Macintosh grinned.
“I’d rather cement the deal in person, in all honesty.”
“Not like you’re ever awake durin’ the day, think I should wait up for you?”
Luna’s smile only grew, even when she saw that the dream around her was about to lose its integrity. “You know, I think I’ll sleep rather well tonight, actually.”
The ponies on the streets were now barely visible, unfocused things, and the city’s buildings were increasingly monochromatic. “That so?” Macintosh chuckled as his office disappeared. The two of them sat at a window to the centre of their earth, even as it fell apart around them, both only glad to have each other there.
Luna leaned over, softly grazing Macintosh’s freckled cheek with her lips, before moving up to his ear. She whispered, “Goodnight, Macintosh, enjoy your morning,” and rose on light wings, turning to leave as the stallion woke once more.
As she gained distance, her playful spirit awake and encouraging her not to look back, she was sure she heard the words: “G’night yourself, Lulinetta. Sweet dreams.”
When Luna returned to her body, ending her dream-walking spell in the process, she made a beeline straight for her bed, merrily humming all of the way.
That night, she slept without barriers, and was rewarded with pleasant dreams centred around her last two nights, though the details were mismatched and vague. She didn’t mind that, however, as she had time now, plenty of time to forge new and permanent experiences with the pony called Macintosh, he who had untethered her from her distress and allowed her to feel free once more.
She slept for a full eight hours, rising at half-past twelve in the afternoon, long before Celestia would come knocking. By the time Celestia came to wake her, she would already have returned.
For now, however, she would visit the shops and pick out a dress. She had a stallion to impress, after all, and it was good to make a first impression, even if you had debatably met him thrice already.