Princess Luna wished... for a great many things. Things beyond her capabilities, her reach, or power. But anything within those confines, she was dedicated to give one-hundred and ten percent.
Though she couldn't see from the confines of her spire, a great weight dragging up from the horizon, its very body, strained against her will: the moon, climbing from to its throne within the dimming sky. Usually, she would take to her egress and witness it in the flesh, for the ritual was easier with the celestial body in sight.
But Spike had slipped into the Dream Realm. At last.
It was earlier than he's accustomed, to be sure, but his day was taxing on mind and body. And it was because of this, that Luna wouldn't dare abandon the child unless certain he wouldn't reawaken soon.
The thought of Spike awakening to find himself alone, with those thoughts of his again... as if he were truly a bother to Luna... she refused to allow such a horrible idea to enter his mind again. Clearly, if Luna were a better speaker, Spike wouldn't have had such a notion in the first place.
But she did her duty as a Princess of Equestria, a friend, and family.
The gentle hum emanating from Luna's horn reached out, further disturbing the complete stillness of her bedroom, its deep blues bathed in gold waning to a black as she willed the blinds shut. Spike's rising and falling form, swaddled in her massive comforter, was crept upon by her coming night, his calm countenance a shallow comfort.
This child... Luna felt a wracking of her core, an ache so great she gasped, faltering, her mane still and sagging for but a moment.
How could Harmony allow a child to feel blameworthy for obeying his caretaker's desperate pleas, as if any child would deny his mother's cries when on her knees, begging him. But did Twilight truly fear some sort of retribution from Celestia? What would she have to fear, in these times, after knowing Tia for so many years? Not even Spike could guess why, nor did he even hazard one regarding the pink powder he found strewn before Twilight in the morning.
At least he convinced her to go to Canterlot, to Princess Luna. Thank Harmony she had the sense to corral him away from Twilight, who seemed fine in comparison to the shivering, hollow-eyed dragon.
Even now, she'd certainly made the right choice. Both young ones needed help, but Spike's was more pressing, more unaddressed. Twilight had the library to distract herself, if she wanted it.
And yet, today only heightened on Luna's shortcomings, who'd done nothing her older sister would have accomplished better. No matter the calming strokes and contrived links of sympathy, of relatability, Spike's breakdown under the weight of his castlemates' deteriorating sanity was inconsolable. In the end, he cried himself to exhaustion conveniently before Luna was supposed to be up and raising the moon.
Which was just about done; squeezing through the blinds, orange light turned ghostly pale, dashed across the blackness of the wall and Spike's bundled self.
Luna had the nerve to yawn. It was soundless, at least, and made her quite the royal sight, as if ready to belt out a soulful ballad while kicking her shoes off. They were all she'd the sense to throw on after a hurried rapping tore her from nightmares of three, monstrous deities in the early afternoon.
Luna wished to banish those from mind immediately, but her duties didn't allow this. As a friend and princess, she couldn't Not with what happened to Twilight the night prior. Did that make this a nightmare of Luna's, or a warning?
If these beings were truly aware and entwined in the workings of Destiny, as Starlight told her friends, then it seemed like fate that Celestia was indisposed today. Only her cupbearer, Earl Grey, was permitted to see her, which Luna didn't press on, even if all sense required her to share this with Tia now. But it wasn't her place to disrupt the flow of work, especially that which related to their ponies' and allies' reaction to the fluctuating circumstances within Friendship Castle.
Truly, in every conceivable way, this month had been the most taxing in all of Luna's long life. Every day she wondered how those around her, especially Celestia, found the strength to proceed with such a peppy exterior. 'You are strong, too, little sister,' she'd heard often. But Luna only carried on so easily because her disposition was so stern for this modern Equestria. She couldn't wear a facade like her sister.
Mayhaps it wasn't so bizarre, then, in light of such introspection. Ponies, nay, creatures of all walks of life were complicated, with different wants and goals driving their every action. Fears were deeply tethered to this aspect of the ego.
Poor Spike, young Spike, had his ego presented in the Dream Realm only once, last week, before the Last Celebration; its conclusion as bittersweet a note as nightmares typically pertained to. Luna must have said something right, if she was never beckoned again. It meant his fear of abandonment in the wake of Twilight Sparkle's likely demise was unfounded, and Luna's educated assumption about the characters of his friends were blessedly not.
They were unreasonable in reality, to be sure. But the fears of children were painfully relatable, and Luna pitied them with her whole heart. Luna was grateful it always worked out so well, if not on the first try, nor the second, then the third to be sure. Starlight, hopefully, needed only four.
A shudder rippled through her, and she pushed such things from mind. Dwelling on potential futures helped nopony in the present. Important things here required her attention. A bat of the eyes brought Luna to the present, with Spike deep in a peaceful sleep below her: eyelids still, no movement behind them, or anywhere about him.
He was such a tiny thing.
A child lies before me. Luna’s heart seized the closer she got, realizing this wasn't any child. Family. This horror is tearing apart my family, and nothing in my power can mend it... I don't know what can. She could only help, and what a big help she was. Had they ever spent quality time together before, anyway? Did being the only pony available to take care of Spike validate these pathetic pangs of longing?
Luna stood over Spike, watching a bulge at the tail-end of his form swish left like a slumbering cat's. The thought made her smile; she'd almost forgotten the woes of the rest of Equestria. Almost. Those so close to Luna and Celestia, yet so unfortunately far from the ponies they considered friends and family, those in their immediate reach.
And if Captain Platinum Estoc's murmurings to Luna's own commanding Night Guard, Blackwing, which came from Earl Grey were to be believed...
Then their ponies were afraid. Nothing in the vein of a nightmare-inducing, personal terror, but worse, out of Luna's capable control. Something that had ponies talking in nearby towns, on the streets and within coffee shops in the dead of night. Something that had ponies sending letters to their mayors, who forwarded these as winded, politely-worded concerns addressed to Celestia's mailbox, and arrived by the hour with a red-inked "URGENT." Something gripping the nation by the throat, spreading out uncontrollably like wildfire, and stemming from a source in Ponyville: Equestria's homey little heart, the center of its apple trade, in recent years a hot tourist destination, and these days, a jar of spilled honey for the hornets. A lure for ponies who'd vied to see the healed Princess of Friendship in the days after her recovery, but were denied by one Element or another. Even a vast majority of townsfolk, who knew the princess better than out-of-towners, crushed several dreams and birthed just as many disgruntled letters expressing outrage toward this "rude and unbecoming" behavior for a town advertised as "the friendliest place in Equestria."
As if Celestia would actually agree with them. But that didn't stop her from answering every single one, and foolishly sparing no pony the truth of Twilight's recovery after Starlight had awakened. Even those legitimately asking if yesterday's rumors were fact: if the princess's friend was truly hornless, if she exchanged it in a deal to make Twilight's better, if the Princess of Friendship commanded her to do it, if they weren't friends anymore because of this, if the Ladies of Flutter Valley were really real, if they were coming for their unicorn horns as well, where Flutter Valley was, how absurd these rumors were, and if they could make their dreams come true, too.
Just to name a few. Gossip is a truly dastardly plague, Luna thought.
And Celestia, according to Earl, had been addressing every single one with the utmost of honesty. It was like she wanted a mass hysteria on her hooves. Or, perhaps, Big Sister was acting under the likelihood of these monsters moving against Equestria in the future. Unlikely, according to Starlight's accounting from Spike and Twilight, but nothing was off the table.
And what'd taken place within the Map Room last night between Twilight and the witch, Draggle, was an atrocity. Mayhap Celestia knew how to handle this, and that her centuries-honed wisdom was worth heeding without argument for once.
Right. And Luna wasn't terrified and never will be again.
With a long, wavering exhale, Luna caressed the dragon's ears. His drawn eyes clenched, like her very touch pained him, but he relaxed right as Luna was about to snatch her hoof away, the blanket draped over his back seizing a moment, then rising-falling, rising, and falling.
Tracing his jaw, down to the lighter scales of his chin, Luna found herself with nowhere to go, or a reason for doing thing. She moved away from the bed, eyes on Spike with heated cheeks. She was a fool; always was, in many ways.
But Luna was nothing if not a sentimental fool.
"Rest easy, little one," she murmured. "I will guard the night, as well as your light... Yes, I will do what I'm most capable of." That is all Celestia had ever asked of Luna: to do her best. Sadly, her best couldn't possibly force young Twilight to stay at the castle, nor speak with Celestia if she didn't want to. If her luck bled from the Dream Realm, just this once, Luna might persuade her to return in the morning.
Regardless of what Twilight chose, Celestia was going to hear of the horrors Luna had.
A swelling of magic upon her forehead, a picture of Twilight Sparkle surfacing within her mind's eye, and with but a thought, Luna evaporated into the Ether. A heartbeat later and a bright flash, Luna found herself in, where else, the castle archives.
A small part inside Luna sank deep. Then it truly is up to me to console her, if she's not with Celestia now.
The shelves were high and the shadows deep; the closest clop of hooves were far off to Luna's ear. A corner of the library, then. She'd sought solitude, and so close to the Restricted Sector.
Twilight's soft gasp caught the timing of Luna's heart locking in place. Oh, no. Now it was clear why Twilight didn't go to Celestia. She didn't want to turn, but duty and pity demanded it, leaving Luna face to face with Princess Twilight's dumbfounded face.
A golden aura by candlelight enveloped them, crimson drooling and pooling around the desk's corner.
"P-Princess," Twilight squeaked, "you startled me." The guilty, stricken look in her eye didn't fade.
Two book stacks framed her greasy-maned face, books that were primarily bound in black, with red, old ponish scribblings upon the spines. Other colors were washed out, almost grey, their pages frayed and yellowing. Luna caught a few words at a glance: "Restoration," "Tracing," "Destiny," "Soul Magic," "A History of Dark Magic," "Non-Emotive Applications of Dark Magic," "Legends," "Bestiary," "Lost Lands."
Oh, Twilight knew damn-well of the fires she was playing with.
She had to.
Which meant she didn't care at all.
It took a moment for Luna to find her voice. "Dark magic? Really, now?" She could have been more eloquent, but a wailing in the back of Luna's mind built by the microsecond, building into full-on howling in her ears. Blurting out like that was all she could do not to start screaming.
Mayhap awakening Celestia would have been better for them both.
Frantic heart palpitations, soft albeit panicked breathing; ah, yes, this was terror. It was silly, thinking Luna appearing was another witch.
A blink flashed maggot-riddled eyes in Twilight's vision, her gut bucking up to her racing heart.
"Twilight!" said Luna, tone hardened.
"I'm..." Sorry, Twilight almost said. But that was a lie, and lying was the antithesis to friendship. "I'm aware of the dangers," she said carefully. Luna continued glaring into her soul, but she'd have to be more compelling than that. Twilight'd used dark magic several times before, and even Celestia! They were both fine after the fact. "But I know that I can do this, Luna."
"You think your emotional constitution is fit to be casting dark magic of any variety at this moment?" If this was Starlight, Twilight sensed a sardonic chuckle coming on. But Luna looked deadly serious. "You are many things, Twilight Sparkle, but a harebrained hexer was never one of them."
Twilight ignored 'harebrained' because Luna was clearly having an emotional reaction herself. "Things have changed, Princess. Our world's gotten bigger and scarier in light of recent events, and I'm doing what I can to adapt."
"P-pardon me?" Luna squeaked.
It was kind of adorable, but it was time to cut to the chase. "After hours of combing through the Restricted Section, I believe I've found something viable that's equal parts safe and helpful. We can actually help Starlight with this, Luna! Now if you'd like to help me, I'd appreciate it, greatly. But if you've any reservations, then I'd prefer it if you stayed..." The rest caught in her throat, a heat rushing up her neck.
A firestorm roared to life in Luna's flaring eyes.
"If I, what?" uttered the Princess of the Night, colder than her realm in the dead of winter. "That I stay out of your way? Do you take me for a friend, or a pebble by the wayside, so easily ignored?" She was craned overtop the table, candlelight splashing across half her face, the other veiled in sinister contrast; Twilight found herself unable to sink back any further. "Have you given any thought to what would come after? Or are you so blind that you'd repeat the same mistakes as Starlight Glimmer?"
She felt small, no, she was small, as if being scolded by Celestia. "I... I have," said Twilight, mustering her resolve. "Several hypotheses, actually." She swallowed. "And in every one of them, I've ensured the end result would be Starlight and I whole, happy, and most importantly, free of dark magic."
Luna's brows had pushed together, betraying an encroaching concern before she murmured, "You do not know that, my friend. You cannot. Dark magic is wild by its very nature, stemming from our most depraved of emotions: envy, hate, fear, lust. Feelings of want. Vices of evildoers. Tainting your magic with such sentiments can only lead to ruin. I should know, Twilight, nay, I do know!" On the last word a single bolt shot from Luna's horn, zipping a foot above her flowing mane before erupting and doming the two of them in a bubble of silence.
It took a few tries for Twilight to find her voice. "I know," she managed, leaning over with space now between them, almost embracing the massive, opened tome known as Reconstitution Rituals: the Magic of the Soul and its Possible Applications. It was all she could do against yet another being whose power dwarfed her own, ready to snatch away a smidgen of hope dangling before her eyes. "I know all of that, Princess. The risk is great, it puts me at such a risk it terrifies me! And that's exactly why I'm planning this smartly."
"Nothing relevant to dark magic so much as graces the realm of intelligence, Twilight. Have you not considered why Celestia and I have never used such power? It's too easy, too volatile, for any pony to use and emerge unscathed. Never!"
"I know that!"
"Then why take such a foolish risk? Do you not care for the potential damages to your well-being? How your friends would feel? Your family? Spike, Starlight, Celestia, myself?!"
Something inside Twilight had been twisting with every word, turning and turning until snapping violently, battering everything within her.
And Twilight roared, "I am not approaching this like Starlight," even as she was, right down to the screaming and denial.
"Then why entertain this, young Twilight? What strain of stupidity's taken hold and driven you to attempt something so dangerous?"
"I have to try!" Twilight shot up, standing on the cushion, perched with a beat of her wings. "If Starlight risked it all for my life, then I should do everything in my power to save her, too!"
"Save her?"
"Because if I don't, then, what kind of a friend am I? How can I bear my title if I'm not the best friend I can be?!" Luna's lips parted, heralding silence. Moments passed and she only stared, stunned, before her lips pursed and she gazed down, considering.
She couldn't think up an answer. And yet, she'd planted the seeds of doubt, and now Twilight felt fear. She was terrified of the unknown, even more so than she was before this insane idea popped into her head.
No, it wasn't insane. It couldn't be! This was all for Starlight, Twilight remembered, her iced guts thawing by a passionate burn. "What else can I do, Luna?" she cried, startling the alicorn. "What kind of a the Princess of Friendship can't live up to the standards set by her friends?"
Blinking, with a sigh, Luna schooled her features into her neutral, chilly disposition. "Let us both take a breath and approach this objectively. What, precisely, are you hoping to accomplish?"
Remembering the sack beside Twilight's back left hoof, the presence of it, was unbearable in every conceivable way. She shut her eyes, seeing a beastly, huge human-esque form poured over the Cutie Map. "Draggle, one of the Ladies, she visited me last night: bigger than most everything but a full-grown dragon, with this... aura, about her, that freezes me just thinking about it." Twilight shuddered off the chill. Luna gazed sympathetically. "I tried making a deal, because, I thought that's what she wanted. But did she accept it? No, of course she didn't! I don't know why, but she didn't. Instead, sh-she took Starlight's horn, a-a-and crushed it before my eyes!" The marble pouch, so much lighter now than it'd ever been, nearly hit Luna in the snout it came so fast. "This... this haunted me for hours. I think, now, she was doing something sadistic like break me. But the joke's on her, 'cause when Spike found me in the Map Room I'd realized something critical: Draggle left the horn remains with me. That monster thought she'd torment me with this? Well, my marbles are all together, still! And she'd made a big mistake." The marble sack of powdered horn thumped before the open tome.
It might have been the candle's glow, but Luna's face looked almost powder-blue. "Did these notions come to you after I left you alone?" She asked, regarding the tome stacks enclosing them.
Twilight nodded. "It took a while, but I got a grip of the situation all on my own. So, I started thinking. Specifically about Draggle and this connection her family's claimed to have with ponykind's inherent magic. It's clear now they're little more than mortal beings who've conjoined their egos to that of Equestria herself! Which is," Twilight snorted, "bad news for them. We've had centuries to hone our manipulation over magic beyond the base powers those sad, old relicts have at their disposal! We can control the weather, the soil we stand on; we've purged the land of its rampant, dark magic and made it our home! While they can only interact with ponies on a heavily limited basis."
Twilight's voice rang hollowly in her ears, the bubble of silence giving them a tinny sound. "Don't you see, Luna? They've got nothing we should be afraid of! Our magic is so much greater than theirs!" Twilight giggled, tickled by their feeble little mind games. "Who's laughing now, huh? Who's laughing now, you horrible monsters?! ME!"
"Twilight Sparkle, enough." Luna, wings flared fully, her voice only a hair above its usual softness yet it still drove Twilight back. "Look at yourself. Think of what you're doing here. It's folly."
"It's not, Luna. I know what I'm doing." Thinking it over again, this just felt right.
Luna closed her wings, sighing, before gazing up at Twilight's perching form. "You may very well be the most talented unicorn of our generation, but it's clear to me that this doesn't translate into wisdom."
So, back to dark magic? Twilight had a defense now, having recalled it as she traced through the events that led her to this moment. "You think I've not thought about this extensively? Luna, I'm well-aware of the risks involving dark magic," she said calmly. "I'm not a novice plunging headfirst into danger. I've been studying it since before I got my wings! And even so, my research here's revealed a better way, one that doesn't risk exposing myself to dangerous quantities of dark magic in an attempt to reconstruct Starlight Glimmer's horn!"
"I'd assumed you were attempting to contrive contact with these malevolent spirits, perhaps force them to reverse their deal."
"That's what I considered at first. But this book here's hinting at a better, safer way to go about it!" Twilight tapped the weathered pages for emphasis. "I can rebuild Starlight's horn, see? If I can draw out a piece of my soul, coupling that with a reconstitution spell, it should remake Starlight's horn and give the remains a magical boost to catalyze spells again."
Now, Luna was truly pale. "...Assuming you collected every particle." Her voice was hollow. "Otherwise, the first spell she fires would be a messy affair. It's risky."
"Oh, don't worry. I collected every single speck!"
"Twilight," Luna sighed, ashamed, "I'd given you too much credit, and that is not what's shocking about this."
Of all ponies, Luna was the last Twilight expected to get queasy over something like this. "It wasn't like I scoured the Map Room. It was all in a pile, and I gathered it in a levitation spell!"
"That's not it." Luna's voice wavered. "To lose some of your soul is guaranteed to change a pony, and never for the better. You know this, you've learned of this forbidden art in the days leading to your Ascension! And yet you dive into it with a smile... This is truly morbid, Twilight. It's unbecoming of you." The strong princess gasped wetly into her foreleg, seizing Twilight by the throat. "It's unbecoming!" Luna yelled, hoof and voice booming thunderously in their bubble. "Twilight Sparkle, what madness has possessed you to think tearing your soul apart is even remotely a good idea? That of grief? Heartbreak? Bonafide insanity?! I've half a mind to go to Celestia now and tell her what you're considering down here!"
A million horrible scenarios flashed before Twilight's eyes, every one more shameful than the last. She realized it now, she knew from the start how utterly crazy this was, but... "Luna, no!" But she just wanted to save Starlight.
"Are you begging me because I'm about to tell my sister, or because you understand the stupidity you're sincerely entertaining?"
Of course. It didn't feel right, though. What was happening?
Twilight's mouth worked, trying to form words her brain was suddenly not providing. "I... don't know," she whimpered. Twilight held her face, staring into that stupid, cursed book. The book that almost wrought calamity upon her, her country, and her loved ones. "I don't know! Luna, I don't know! I don't know, I just don't know, I don't know! All I know is that Starlight's falling apart and sh-she's dying! She's practically dying inside, Luna, and I-I... I don't... I don't know what to do, or how to help her, or how to fix this! She's just so different now, she doesn't even want to talk to me and she isn't honest with me or with her friends or anything. And I know she doesn't want me fixing this, but I can't just sit here and not think about how she's this way because of me! I-I hate this, I hate me! How do I fix this, Princess Luna?! Help me, please!"
Twilight couldn't think of anything more, even as a feeling welled up her throat, emerging a pitiful wail she smothered her hooves, then Luna's chest as she came around and wrapped her in a tight hug.
"You let this all out, first," she murmured, stroking Twilight's mane like Celestia would. "It will all be okay, you've done nothing irreversible.
Princess Celestia would be so disappointed when she hears of this. Starlight would've left her for good had she gone through with the plan, if she'd literally ripped herself to pieces for her sake. Twilight was a foal in the face of uncertainty, always had been. She bawled at the thought, further dampening Luna's finely groomed coat as her throat started to ache.
"This's so crazy," Twilight cried, "this's just all so wrong and I just want it back to normal."
Luna's broad throat bobbed against her ear. "As do I."
"I want Starlight to be happy again, but I don't know if she can be..."
Such foalish bawling, yet Twilight couldn't stop for the life of her. How awkward Luna must feel, after what was likely a mere checkup on the princess after taking care of Spike.
Spike! All thoughts of him were nonexistent until just now. What a great friend Twilight was, to essentially ditch her childhood friend and leave him for Luna to attend to.
Princess of Friendship indeed.
"I'm sorry you've been driven to resorting to these methods." Twilight nodded against the sodden fur, Luna's warmth too sweet and near-familiar to want to move away. She held her without complaint, which couldn't have been a comfortable position, standing upon her hindlegs, but she suffered it for her.
Neither spoke again until Luna, moment's later said, "Twilight, you're an intelligent mare, and one of the greatest ponies I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. And since your ascension, my opinion has only bolstered as you tackled problems with your values in mind instead of a pragmatic approach. It is because of this opinion, that your intentions here have shaken me so."
That's right; Luna had gasped, obviously choking on a cry, and Twilight was too busy with her stupid plan to notice. "You know, I didn't even consider... if I were to use my soul with a dark magically-charged restoration spell, both me, and Starlight," Twilight's stomach turned, her voice reflecting so, "we would've definitely fallen to the same corruption as you, and Sombra, too. Oh, gosh, I... I didn't even consider that! I could have thrown Equestria out of balance far worse than your banishment had before!" The horrible scenarios, the broken hearts of Equestria alone, were enough to get her hyperventilating.
Luna held Twilight out by the shoulders, smiling down on her. "Do not fear, Twilight Sparkle, for nothing unforgivable has come to pass. And if I weren't here, surely your friends would have stopped you from performing this ritual. Remember, there is no use dwelling on what-ifs. Only the now calls for your attention, Princess of Friendship, and the now is far from unsalvageable. Nothing ever is." Luna stood back, wings proudly extended. A demonstration, Twilight realized, even before the Princess of the Night said, "There is always another way. You've not lost, and you've proven time again that adhering to your principles has been what Destiny intended."
It was like seeing Princess Celestia raise the sun for the first time again. Twilight shut her mouth, scrubbed away the stickiness cloying to her cheeks and nodded, determined. "Of course," she rasped in a raw voice. "I know it isn't over. I wasn't afraid of that, but it's just..." She flushed; she didn't know that, and she certainly was afraid. Twilight shook her head, always the student, no matter how long she'd been at this. "Thank you, Luna."
The princess drew her wings in, casting a sweet smile that crumbled in seconds. "I apologize for my negligence, Twilight. In my efforts to ease Celestia's burden, it seems I'd prioritized Spike's well-being over yours."
Only Luna would find a way to feel partly responsible. Twilight could barely suppress her smile. "Don't be sorry," she said. "I'm the one who pretended I was fine! Oh, gosh, I really became a Starlight back there, didn't I?" From being dangerously selfless to parroting 'I'm okay' and convincing nopony but herself; Twilight felt her grin slack. "Oh, Spike... I'd scared him to no end, and I was too caught in my own craziness to consider him." And he'd told Luna every horrible, frightening detail he'd been a part of, because why wouldn't he? Her little trooper, doing all he could to make Twilight's life easier. "This is all a tangled web, isn't it? Each of us, trying to help one another, prioritizing friends over ourselves and hurting more ponies in the process."
Luna shocked her by asking, "How can we break such a cycle?"
With something far more than a simple, immediate answer would entail. But Twilight's eyes ached, her throat raw, chest heavy. She was beastly tired all of a sudden, and now, Spike was all she could think about. "Let's take it one step at a time. Together," she added, and Luna nodded, silently agreeing that it was time Celestia got involved. "Luna, if it's not too much trouble, can you take me to Spike?"
"He is asleep now, Princess. I will, but exercise caution. The whelp's had a taxing day." Luna gazed at the ceiling in thought, before adding, "Perhaps seeing you, and letting the rest play out naturally, would be beneficial for you both."
Spike could sleep through a lot, however; certainly a young alicorn sliding into bed, cuddling with him, would be nothing compared to, say, her argument with Rockhoof, for instance.
"Honestly, Luna, all I want is to be with him now. And if I know Spike, he feels the same. I... we, really, we've both spent too much time neglecting how we really feel. If there's anything to discuss, it's that the truth about ourselves." Time and again, there was nopony Spike nor Twilight were more open toward than each other. "And if we're going to help Starlight, we all need to be on the same page."
"A conclusion Celestia will be happy to hear," said Luna, coupled with a smile, sending Twilight's belly aflutter. The Bubble of Silence dispelled with a gentle pop. "Prepare, Twilight, for we shall apparate to my quarters. I've prolonged my duties enough already. Worry not! I will be nearby, should you need me."
As if Twilight would take more of Princess Luna's time than she already had. Though she didn't want to concern her, either, by stating the obvious.
Twilight, instead, smiled and nodded, before the world flashed nighttime-blue.