Lorraine's room was, for a lack of a better word, Spartan. A bed up against the back wall, an end table on the beds right-hand side next to the empty wardrobe built into the wall and a desktop computer sat on a study, old wooden desk up against the left wall below a window. The view of said window was obscured by the heavy, dark blue curtains that were drawn shut, the bedroom lit by the light in the ceiling.
Pale blue walls and old, worn grey carpeting added to the sense of emptiness that permeated the room as the dragon herself sat at her desk. The time in the lower corner of her computers monitor read 2:00 AM as an article detailing the history of deer held the dragon's attention. She blinked, her mind drifting due the late hour. She closed the web browser, behind was an open document, lists that ranged from Ideas on how to help Luna to How to get people to stop harassing my friends and boyfriend were scattered about the document as she scrolled through it.
Reading it only stirred unpleasant memories, the multiple arguments she had with angry mares, the unfair treatment at shops. Things had only escalated with Applejack's arrest as the townsfolk seemed hellbent on targeting her.
Stress chipped away at her, her mind felt like a coiled a spring, one wound so tightly it could snap at any opportunity. Her eyes fell on the next list she had made and she couldn't help but smile ruefully at it.
How to get Alastor back to Tartarus.
- I have no idea.
Her smile dropped as she realized there would more gifts piled up on her doorstep soon enough. She had read the love letters, nothing more than empty praise, written with the express purpose of- Her face scrunched up in disgust as she struggled to find a civilized way to word it in her own head- proposition him. In public Lorraine simply tuned out whatever those kind of mares said to Alastor.
Or rather at him.
Oh the looks she would get whenever she jumped to his defense. What was worse However, were the words that followed whenever the disgruntled ponies caught the dragon out and about by herself.
"He's not yours! Quit acting liking he is!"
"Well if you're not going to start a herd with him, why bother protecting him?"
She heaved out a breath through her nose. The look of extreme discomfort on Alastor's face whenever he was mobbed rose to the forefront of her mind, the rigid smile and splayed back ears wrenched and twisted her gut. He was her friend and he clearly didn't like the attention. An idea, a stupid, silly, out-of-the-question idea popped into her head.
Would starting a herd even help?
She dismissed the idea, she had no doubt it would in the short-term but long-term? There were expectations, implications to the notion that had been so heavily ingrained into Equestrian society that it went against quite a number of things she believed in and she didn't believe in much.
It was getting harder and harder to stay true to her belief, her faith in others with how they were acting. If it wasn't herding being shoved down her throat it was the fact that she was a luck dragon.
She remembered how Rainbow had shown her and John off to Gilda as weird, Garble's awe filled reaction upon their first meeting and Luna... Lorraine knew Luna meant well when trying to teach her how to use magic but there was something that was always left unsaid.
"The sooner you control your magic, the more you will be able to help."
"Your magic is as fragile as it is powerful, whether that is due to you not being a naturally occurring Luck Dragon I cannot say, but I have no doubt you were given this form for reason."
Was she not doing enough already? Was she doing something wrong? Was there something wrong with her? It wouldn't surprise her if it was the case... It was all so complicated. Maybe everyone would be better off if she was something else or less magical?
But how?