A bone-deep shudder ran through Luna as she watched the starlight glimmer off of the surface of the river - and her shuddering increased considerably when she felt Joe heading towards it.
“What art thou doing! This river doth surely connect to that of the Kelpie’s -”
“Yer leg’ll get all kinds’a nasty if we don’t clean it up, Princess.” Joe said in his gruff voice, although with an undertone of surprising gentleness. “Water’s too shallow for Kelpies, anyway.”
Luna expected him to let her off on the banks, and keep himself dry; instead, he carried her over into the middle of the river, and knelt down so that she could slide off without putting any weight on her wounded leg. But once she was off and he got a good look at it, he didn’t bother to keep quiet about it.
“Sheep’s brains, Princess, that looks bad. Did she take a bite outta ya?” he asked, washing the mud from his own forelegs before he began helping her, splashing little bits of water over whatever part of her was closest.
“No, I was trying to kick her face before I went under. She caught my leg in her mouth.” Luna said simply, focusing on washing her muddy, thoroughly-un-royal-looking coat. Joe’s sharp, amused laughter startled her, painfully loud in the silence of the meadow.
“You just keep surprisin’ me, Princessy.” Joe grinned, giving her leg another little splash.
“Surprising you? You of all people shouldn’t be surprised, after you hauled me over your back like a sack of potatoes!” Luna sniffed, doing her best not to pay attention to the way he looked at her, the way that pride mingled with shock in his expression. “And now you are splashing me like - some washmare’s laundry in the market fountain.” she huffed, giving him a little splash to demonstrate. “You, of all people, shouldn’t be shocked that I’m suddenly acting in a way that is not in accordance with my station!”
Joe stared at her for a moment, then broke out into another loud, amused bout of laughter. “Oh, I’m splashin’ yer royal coat now, am I? I’ll show what splashin’ really looks like, toots!” And with that, he lifted up both forelegs, and began splashing her in earnest.
Luna gave a surprised cry, and tried to escape him as best she could, but all she ended up doing was rolling onto her side in a helpless heap as he fairly showered her in river water. “Oh, you - you brute!” she whinnied, flailing her legs in a rather helpless fashion, half-sunk in the river.
Immediately, Joe felt bad. “Aw, c’mon toots, I’m sorry, I was just teasin’ ya. Just havin’ a little fun, trying ta take the edge off … you’re not hurt, right?” he asked, peering down into her face worriedly. “You aren’t mad?”
His answer was a mouthful of water, spat into his face, and as much water kicked onto him as three good legs could manage.
“YOU ARE THE WORST PRINCESS EVER, YOU KNOW THAT?” Joe whinnied, trying to shake his head dry, torn between amused rage and laughter as he landed on his hindquarters in a soggy heap.
“You should not start a war you cannot win, Joe.” Luna murmured, and this time, her staunchly-royal tone was more playful, a smile playing around her mouth.
“The. Very. Worst.” he whuffed, trying to blow the wet forelock out of his eyes between laughs. “Alright, Princessy, you’d better be clean by now or else I’m gonna splash you again.”
“I think you got the worst of it.” Luna murmured, trying to look herself over. The braid was a total loss, but at least the mud was out of it. Her wounded legs were another issue entirely. Although they looked cleaner, they were a sorry sight. Still, she had expected a lot worse, and she was just glad she came out of it with all four legs intact. “I’ll need something to wrap them with, so they don’t get infected. Did you bring anything like that?”
“Sorry, Princess. Left most’a the med kit in my backpack, back at the river.” Joe rumbled, ears sliding back in frustration. “Tried to grab the most important bits, though. Didn’t think to grab gauze. Wasn’t thinkin’.”
“It’s alright, Joe. You thought very fast on your hooves, in my opinion.” Luna praised him softly, and when he turned away, the nervous way his ears flicked back and forth told her that the praise was much appreciated. “You saved my life.”
“Well, just payin’ back the favor. You saved mine, an’ all.” Joe rumbled, clearly uncomfortable with the praise, as he focused on rinsing his hooves off in the river, and knocking over stray pebbles. “Wasn’ta big deal, or nothin’.”
“You fought off a Kelpie. I was lured in by her deception, and you knew how to save me. I would call that a ‘pretty big deal.’” Luna stated simply, pulling herself to her hooves with a wince. Her hind leg hurt - but it was a good hurt. You couldn’t hurt if you were dead, after all.
“Yeah, well, jus’ - returnin’ the favor.” he mumbled, but this time, he flashed her a small, pleased smile. “You okay over there? Need help?”
“I’ll be all right, if camp is close.” she murmured, turning her eyes towards the sky. Still dark out, with plenty of stars to admire - but open, too open to hide from Celestia. But the closest cover was that of the Kelpie’s forest, and ahead of them, a low mountain ridge crested the horizon. They would be out of luck, unless they could scale that overnight. And with the moon waning and the exhaustion from the Kelpie fight starting to hit them, it seemed almost as likely as Celestia dropping from the sky to bestow forgiveness on both of them. “Where will we stay tonight?”
“Well, camp is going to have to be out here. And since the tarp stayed with the Kelpie, we’re gonna have to come up with some kind of cover for ourselves.” Joe frowned, leading her further into the meadow, its grasses less high and formidable than before.
They walked in silence for a few minutes, and when Joe didn’t complete the obvious thought, Luna spoke up. “Well, why don’t we just weave a covering out of the grass?”
Joe looked over his shoulder at her, brows knitted tightly together. “‘Scuse me?”
“Weave a covering. You know, like - a woven mat, but in a bowl shape?” Luna clarified, and tilted her head at him in confusion, a smile curling her lips. “Does this mean I know something about traveling that you don’t?”
“Don’t get all cocky about it, Princessy.” he chuckled back at her, giving his tail a little whisk towards her face, earning a laugh in return. “Okay, so you show me how to do the weaving, and I’ll use my magic. Can’t be too careful, if Celestia’s tryin’ to find ya through yours.”
The pair set to work, and within a short time, they had a fire started - which wasn’t much effort at all, being as Joe was a unicorn in the business of baking. But it was a welcome respite nonetheless, being as they were both soaked through from the river. But while Luna was soon significantly warmer and dryer, Joe continued to shiver through his weaving, his sodden uniform sticking to his coat.
Luna eyed him, but didn’t say anything about it; it was his choice, wasn’t it? And, she couldn’t help but notice, his shirt seemed to be the only stray bit of fabric around, and it could be cut very neatly into handy strips, such as for bandaging Kelpie bite wounds, or forming a sling for a disabled hind leg, for example. But such a selfish thought was not befitting of - a princess? No, princesses could ask for whatever they wanted and be given it. And it wasn’t out of the realm of fairness, either - it was perfectly fair to ask for a bandage, if you were wounded. But it wouldn’t be right, because - well, because it was Joe. She didn’t know why that made sense, but it just did. So she’d figure out something else, like perhaps Joe could weave her a sling out of the grasses.
“Why’re you starin’ at me, Loo?”
Luna practically jumped, unaware of when her eyes had begun to glaze over. “My apologies, Joe. After so many years alone, I have gotten out of the habit of certain social norms.” she said quickly, eyes darting to his before very studiously darting elsewhere, like at the extremely-interesting grass, or the absolutely-thrilling fire.
“You’re pretty funny, for a princess.” Joe chuckled, shivering gently as he continued to weave the grass together, forming the next panel that would extend over their heads.
“Are you cold, Joe?” Luna asked, eyes returning to his bulky form as he shivered. Their coats were warming, sitting beside the fire; his shirt remained damp.
Joe didn’t respond at first, which made Luna immediately curious. He had a quick tongue; to see it quieted meant something strange was going on. “Well, it’ll dry just as well if it’s on my back.” he said at last, as self-assured and even as if he actually believed it.
“Really.”
“You know, since we’re asking invasive questions, here’s one for you: how scared were you, back there, with the Kelpie?”
Luna’s ears abruptly went flat against her head, and she stared at him for a moment in wounded silence before her hurt transitioned into anger. “You’ve made your point.”
“No, I don’t think I have. I’m asking you, honestly, what you were feeling.” Joe continued, his eyes on his weaving, purposefully avoiding her.
“I was terrified.” Luna said flatly, her voice sharp and cold. “I realized I was going to die. But even though I knew that it was a certainty, I fought like an animal. I lept on every chance that might give me a few more moments of life, and every time the water closed over my head, I realized anew that I would never see the moon again. That I would never see my sister again, even if I hated her, even if she hated me. I have never felt such terror, not even when I was banished.”
“Alright.” Joe said quietly, listening to her, as if he hardly cared at all. But when he looked back, the intensity of his gaze startled Luna - and scared her, too. “So, here’s my question to you: why didn’t the Nightmare come out?”
Luna stared at him for a moment, her brows lifting, abandoning their anger to shift to confusion. “Why didn’t...? I wasn’t angry.”
“No, but you told me you were fighting. The Nightmare doesn’t have to do with anger alone - wouldn’t it be activated by any strong emotion? Or if it thought you were going to die, wouldn’t it come out to save you both?” Joe asked, his eyes riveted on her, his weaving forgotten.
“I - it doesn’t - it doesn’t work that way.” Luna stammered quietly, eyes wide as she stared at him.
“I think it does. I think you lost control, and the Nightmare didn’t come out.” Joe pressed, eyes locked on hers. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“How would you know?! It was - a thousand years ago, you weren’t even born then!” Luna snapped at him, ears flattening out against her soggy, tangled mane.
“If it would have saved your life, wouldn’t you have wanted the Nightmare to come out?”
“Why would I want a thing like that? She - laid waste to Equestria, destroyed lives, ruined so many -”
“You said you would have done anything to stay alive, right?” Joe said, and this time, his voice was much less accusatory, more soft and - pleading, almost. “Ponies do crazy things when they think they’re going to die. I would have, if I’d been in that water.”
“I … that’s not … it doesn’t work like that.” Luna repeated, and even to her own ears, it sounded weak. He made a fair point; if the Nightmare was there, why didn’t it save her? If she died, the Nightmare would die.
“You asked me why I wouldn’t take off my shirt, right?” Joe shifted subjects, his eyes hardening as they focused on some point in the distance. “When I was born, I had a couple’a birth defects. Not big, not dangerous, but it meant I had to have a couple of surgeries on my back, and it left some scars behind. Well, foals don’t take too well to differences, so I got teased pretty bad when I was little. Even took to wearin’ a shirt, and it didn’t change things none. But when I moved to the Broncs, no one knew what was under it. No one called me Razorback, or Patchwork-Coat; foals called me Joe. Just Joe. And I decided I liked that, liked havin’ friends. So I never took off the shirt, and no one had to know I was scarred. And you know what? Even now, I’m scared ta take this thing off, even though it’s freezin’ out here, and even though you could use it for your leg, because I’m scared I’m gonna be Razorback again. I’m a buckin’ grown-up stallion, and inside I’m still the little colt who thinks he’s not gonna have any friends anymore.”
The silence stretched out between them. In the distance, crickets chirped, and the river ran through its banks, light and bubbly. When Luna spoke again, her voice was low, and her eyes fairly burned in the darkness with the intention in her words. “I promise you, Joe, on my honor, that I will never call you those things. My trust in you will not waver because of how you look, this I swear.”
Joe’s eyes drifted back to her from where they’d been focusing on the river, and his tense expression lightened, just a bit. “You trust me, Loo?”
“Well, I - I saved your life, and you saved mine, correct? That implies a certain sort of - camaraderie, at least. And you are - pleasant to talk to, and you seem to be very focused on aiding me, so - that makes us -”
“Servant and master?” Joe grinned, nice and slow.
“No! No, nothing of the sort! I would not wish it to be that way, because - because then you wouldn’t call me ‘toots,’ even if I told you not to. And you wouldn’t … challenge me, even if I don’t like it.” Luna started out quickly, then slowed down, trying to think of how to phrase what she was feeling. “No one’s ever called me ‘Loo’ before, either.”
“That a problem, Princessy?” Joe cracked, some of his Broncs swagger returning.
“No. Actually, I quite like it, which is undeniably strange. You are undeniably strange.” Luna continued, watching him with dark, intense eyes, provoking a laugh from the bulkier stallion.
“You ain’t exactly normal either, Loo.”
“Precisely. That’s … why I like you.” Luna said quietly, resting her chin on one foreleg, frowning as she considered him. “You don’t pretend I’m something I’m not. You don’t pretend that everything is okay if it isn’t. I find myself attracted to your frankness, and your honesty, because it is something I have been lacking as of late.”
“You forgot my be-yoo-tiful face, and my rippling physique.” Joe teased her, blowing off her praise with a whuff.
“Your wit, too, is entertaining. I quite enjoy it, even though you are using it right now to try and dismiss my praise of you.” Luna persisted, frowning at him intently until his laughter quieted. “I think you are a good stallion, Joe. I was very lucky to find you, when I needed your aid most. If … if we are not friends, then I would very much like for us to become thusly.” she asked formally, holding one foreleg out to him.
“Right now?” Joe looked at her, then down at her hoof, and chuckled quietly. “See, I knew I liked you. Okay, you got it, we’re friends - just so long as I don’t have to shake your hoof, or kiss it, or whatever you think you’re doin with it, ‘kay?”
“Understood - friend.” Luna said, a little stiffly, but a small smile crinkled the edges of her eyes when Joe did.
“So, now’s the part where I get to talk about all your little weirdnesses, huh? In a super high-falootin’ Canterlot accent?” Joe teased, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
But instead of laughing, Luna pulled herself up very straight, crossed her forelegs as politely as she could, and gave a little nod. “Very well. Please proceed.”
“‘M just kiddin’ Loo, sheesh, ya’d think every conversation was a speechifyin’ occasion with you.” he chuckled, flicking his tail so that it slapped against the grass. But when she fell silent, he fell silent too, watching her for a moment in thought. “You know,” he said at last, “I think you’re a pretty nice pony, too. You’ve got yer weird moments - like that pacing thing, that was really weird - but you’re not a weird pony. Yer just - different, from most’a the ponies around here. That’s all. And ya think yer gonna blow up at any second, like you’re a bomb waitin’ ta go off, but I don’t think that’s true. I think yer just scared, like me.”
“Like you?” Luna asked quietly, her voice small and delicate, wanting to believe him so badly that it almost ached.
“Yeah. Inside, yer just a little filly, who’s scared that if she lets other ponies know how she’s really feelin’, bad things’re gonna happen again. And I think, if you just tell other folk how yer feelin’, you’ll actually end up feelin’ a whole lot better.” Joe replied, equally soft.
Luna looked down at her forelegs, and frowned, as if the answer to her problems lay somewhere in the center of her hoof. But of course, it was still the same hoof it always was, with no answers to be found there. “Maybe so.” she murmured at length, letting the silence stretch out between them.
“I’M ANGRY BECAUSE THE OTHER COLTS WERE BUCKIN’ JERKS TO ME WHEN I WAS LITTLE!”