//------------------------------// // 13. Morn // Story: And The Stars Shine Forth // by archonix //------------------------------// The following dawn rose through an all-consuming haze that swallowed the entire horizon, beneath a sky as clear and deep as a crystal mountain lake. Sharp slivers of icy cloud drifted high above, distant from each other as from the ground beneath, shadeless and white as paper, or the milk that eddied in Luna's tea as she prepared another cup of the beverage she had so quickly come to associate with both recovery and rest. No pegasus clouds were these, however, but rather those that nature saw fit to sprinkle across the bowl of the firmament from time to time, perhaps as a reminder that nothing was truly under the control of ponykind for long. Perhaps. Luna set her cup aside to cool for the moment and settled herself further into the comfy chair she had dragged out to Twilight's balcony, the better to watch the dawn's first light. It was a strange time; a point of transition, when her own power and the power of her sister stood equal and equally at odds; when she was by turns weaker and stronger than at any other moment. It made no sense that it should be so, for her moon roved through the nights and days without regard for the immobile marks of time that so fascinated her sister; yet it was so. Perhaps that was why Celestia had so fixed the cycles in Luna's absence? But to believe that would be to give succor to thoughts of conspiracy and Luna was far beyond such things now. Far beyond... Thoughts of her sister drew Luna's gaze toward the distant city that was now their home. It being farther north, Canterlot's white towers still glowed with the ruddy pink of the early dawn, standing in stark relief against the shadowy bulk of Canter peak and the velvet-blue northern sky. Twixt those towers she could remember the gardens, the cool, shady places and avenues of trees that saved her from the sun's cruel heat. The concessions Celestia had made, for how could the sun be enjoyed without the relief of shelter from its baleful eye? Even in those quandam days when ponies frolicked, so they said, in the light of Celestia's sun, nevertheless they sheltered from it beneath the boughs of trees, and the rude walls of their homes. It seemed folly now, looking back, to resent their dancing and enjoyment. The cool of the night and the pale light of the moon had been blessed relief from the glowering day and they had partaken of it the only way a pony could, in rest and in sleep, and dreams of cool ponds and quiet places, surrounded by the fruits of their labours. It was perhaps predictable that those fruits, in her mind's eye, took the form of apples, piled in lush heaps beneath the boughs of an orchard wood, while the pony enjoying them was a familiar shape indeed. At some point, Luna realised, her gaze had returned to the sky. It was the sort of sky that should have accompanied the crisp, bitter tang and prickling chill of a coming winter; the sort of sky that once had been Luna's whole life and realm; the sort that once had met her each dawn on the trek from hearth to field at the end of the harvest, or from the battlements of the old castle on the dawn of the equinox, or in the skies above Pegasopolis as she waited for her sons to return from the games. She stared at it, watching for any change in the stillness, and sipped at her tea until she had dragged its last dregs from the cup.  It was the skittering of claws on wood that drew Luna from her melancholy. She glanced at her empty cup, long cold and dried out, and set it aside, by the equally empty teapot, to meet the intruder to her solitude. "My greetings, sir Spike," she said, smiling at the young dragon. He scuffled to a halt, blinking confusion at the address. Then he grinned and bowed with a flourish of his arms, as was the custom of the far-distant Abyssinian court. Perhaps Celestia had taught it to him. "Shall I assume that Twilight yet sleeps?" "Um, kinda?" Spike hopped up to the balcony rail and set himself upon it, facing Luna, with his back to the distant city. "She usually reads in bed for a couple of hours before breakfast. I was just heading out to get her something from Sugarcube Corner." "Would that all ponies had such a loyal assistant," Luna murmured. She contemplated Spike a while, as he swung his stubby legs and peered, boyish and absent-minded, around the balcony. Every now and then, however, he would glance over to the horizon, to the north and the distant city on its hill. Just a glance, yet his eyes found time to linger. "T'is a strong feeling, to wish to be home again," she said. "I guess." Spike shrugged. "We go back sometimes though, so it's not like I never see the place. Besides, this is our home now." "It is true that home is where the heart does rest, or so an old friend once told me," said Luna. She found herself staring at the horizon again, though not at Celestia's distant towers this time. "Alas, the heart may often rest in far off places, where we cannot hope to remain." Spikes looked toward her, his eyes wide and unblinking. Then he sagged and sighed, and hopped from the balcony rail. "I've gotta go. But–" He paused, half way to the door, and looked up at Luna with those same wide, endless eyes. "Maybe you wanna come?" Luna smiled and bowed her head once more. "T'would be my pleasure to accompany you, sir Spike." At first she had thought they would be visiting the market, as that had seemed to be the source of most food in the town, yet they had barely reached the perimeter of it when Spike led Luna away again. She found herself before a gaudy shopfront, a building that was the physical embodiment of the sugar scent that hung about it in a dense cloud. Vague memories of the place arose as she looked over the building, of ponies in gay costumes piling from its doors, their backs heavy with trays of pastries and pies and sweets of all kinds that they bade her eat until she was utterly stuffed. A pleasant memory. She smiled as she climbed the step after Spike and nosed through the door. Within, a dozen or so ponies sat hunched over tables, nuzzling at plated pastries and desserts and steaming hot drinks. Their conversations were muted, but carried within them the seeds of raucous cheer that Luna had so rarely found in the stifling bounds of the court. She found Spike by a counter, speaking with a portly mare who seemed either unwilling or unable to keep a broad smile from her face. She nodded as she wrote down Spike's order; occasionally she would mutter something around the pencil in her mouth, possibly clarifying some detail or other, until the two had negotiated whatever sugary treaty Spike was to bring home to Twilight this morning. The shopkeeper nodded a greeting to Luna as she approached, then spat out the pencil and smiled broader still. "And you must be Twilight's young friend from Canterlot. Spike's been telling me about you all week!" "Nothing bad, I swear," Spike added, with a grin too wide and toothy to be anything but nervous. "Of course, he's had nothing but praise for you, though a little bird may have told me that it's you I have to thank for why we're suddenly providing Twilight's breakfast every day." The shopkeeper winked at Spike, who pouted like a foal. "Oh, but where are my manners? You must be ravenous. Is there anything you'd like to eat?" "Oh, I–" Luna glanced at the menu, then at Spike. "I had not considered that I might eat quite yet." "Not a morning pony, I take it?" "Indeed not," Luna replied, with a cock-eyed grin. "Well, I'll be right over here if you change your mind. Just call for Cup Cake."  With that, the shopkeeper bustled away to the kitchen, calling out Spike's order in a sing-song voice that was cut off by the closing door. Luna looked down at Spike, making sure he saw that her smile was friendly and not the wicked grin of the vengeful spirit he now likely feared. It seemed to work, though perhaps he simply considered it fair play for the earlier treatment to which she had subjected him. "It'll be a few minutes," he said, gesturing toward an empty place by the window. Luna nodded. They had barely settled in their seats when the door burst open – there was no other way to describe the cacophonous entry – and the mare Rarity strode into the building, humming a jaunty tune and smiling as if her life depended on being seen to do so. Close to the counter, she glanced at last in their direction, her gaze coming to rest on Spike. She nodded to him and winked, though the gesture lasted just a little too long to be entirely innocent. Then her eyes found Luna. Rarity's smile took on an almost predatory sheen as she turned a hard right, wafting a carefless hoof at Cup Cake, who had returned just moments before at the sound of a new customer. "Coffee, darling, please, and a cinnamon croissant," she trilled over her shoulder, then drew up a nearby chair and seated herself precisely between Spike and Luna. "My goodness, but what an unexpected pleasure to see the pair of you here! I'd have thought you'd be tucking in to one of Spike's famous breakfasts at this hour." "Long story," said Spike, as he toyed with his change purse. He looked up at Rarity and seemed about to say more, but then the door to the kitchen crashed open again and Cup Cake tottered out, bearing Spike's heaping order on her back. "Perhaps we can hear it another time," said Rarity, once Spike had hopped from his seat. He glanced at her and grinned, then shot away. Luna rose to follow, until Rarity put a hoof against her shoulder.  "A moment, darling, please," she murmured, sliding into Spike's recently vacated seat. The tiniest of frowns pinched at her brow as she watched Spike gathering up his substantial heap of pastries and baked goods. "Sometimes I wonder if that little one eats too many sweets. Ah well, we can't all have a furnace in our bellies." "He is not the only one that shall eat of it," Luna replied. "Alas, I fear I caused more damage to Twilight's kitchen than I had anticipated." Rarity's brow rose. "I see. But enough of that, my dear. Tell me, Sable." Rarity leaned forward, her smile growing wider yet "How was your little soiree with Applejack?" Luna found she had leaned away from Rarity's eager interest. She took a breath and forced herself to relax. It was almost a success. "Pleasant," she replied, trying, but failing, to match Rarity's smile. "We ate, we drank, we told tall tales, and then afterwards we returned to the farm and spent our remaining time amongst the orchards." "Charming." Rarity sat back and sighed, her smile now faded to a mere smirk. "And then you went home, I suppose." "That I did." Luna lowered her gaze. "Twilight had retired to bed when I arrived." "Yes, Twilight has been rather retiring of late," Rarity sighed. She glanced toward the kitchen as the door swung open and Pinkie Pie emerged with a tray teetering on the tip of her upturned nose. "Forgive me, my dear, if I seem a little forward. The way the three of you have gone on, I was expecting a more–" she wafted her hoof in the air a moment. "–dramatic final parting, I suppose. Oh but that must make me sound like one of those horrid gossip rags. How gauche. Forget I even suggested the idea." "T'is no parting I would wish to dwell on in any case," Luna replied, then pursed her lips. "Truth be told–" "All set!" Spike stumbled up to the table, holding an overstuffed box above his head like some comical waiter. He glanced at Rarity and Luna in turn, grinning without guile. "Ready to go?" A momentary look passed between Luna and Rarity, whose smile was just the slightest shade over from exasperation, though surely she must be used to the little dragon's impositions by now. "I am ready as I shall ever be," Luna replied. She bowed her head to Rarity and stepped from her seat. "A pleasure, as ever, Miss Rarity." They had moved but a few scant steps when Rarity called out and fell in beside them. "Don't count the pleasure ended just yet, Sable," she said, before snatching Spike's box from his claws. "I had business at the library anyway. Why don't I accompany you?" Luna looked down at Spike, who was still holding his arms in the air and frowning up at the space his box had just occupied. After a moment he shrugged, though awkwardly, and dropped them to his sides. "If that's all right, of course," Rarity added, when she had Luna's attention again. She smiled. It was surprising, once they were outside, just how noisy the cafe had been, though Luna had been sure it was peaceful while they were within. She walked with Rarity at her side, while Spike, freed of his burdens, jogged several paces ahead like the eager youngster he no longer quite was. It was only when they turned a corner to the main street that she noticed Rarity's pace had slowed as well, and Luna found she had shortened her already truncated steps to match before she had even realised. She looked at Rarity, whose smile had shifted from broad to demure and – were Luna to be honest – far more fetching.  At least until Rarity took the moment to bite into her croissant. "Oh do forgive me," Rarity said, spitting crumbs as she spoke. She crossed her eyes briefly and swiped her hoof across her lips. "I was, ah, rather more hungry than I anticipated. I would have eaten an hour ago, but Sweetie Belle decided to make pancakes..." Luna dipped her head. "As sisters are wont. I am correct that she is yours?" "Yes. Younger, by oh, some number of years I'd rather not think about." Rarity sipped at her coffee and let out a quiet sigh. "Listen to me, sounding like some old nag. She tries her best, heaven knows, but unfortunately her best means I'm out here, waiting for the fire department to finish saving my kitchen, instead of working on my latest masterpiece. I'm sure you know how that feels." "I–" The words caught in Luna's throat. She looked along their path, watching Spike as he meandered in the near distance, close to an oversized planter that stood, in all defiance of rationality, directly in the centre of the path. Just once, he glanced toward Canterlot, but his gaze lingered a little longer than mere curiosity might suggest. "Had I my own way," Luna said, lowering her voice. "I would not have chosen to be here today, either. But at least the company is good, and the weather most pleasant." "And I'm stuffing my face with sugary treats instead of a nice, healthy bowl of oatmeal," said Rarity. She tipped back the last of her coffee, paused to frown at the planter as they passed it by, and then sent the cup floating behind her head. "Superficially enjoyable, but not what I was expecting. Not at all." Luna nodded, pursing her lips. "Yet it seems like just the sort of thing one is expected to enjoy," she said. "Of course you're expected to enjoy it," said a third voice. Luna turned to find the planter gone and a perilously pink pony standing in its place, the one called Pinkie Pie. She grinned at Luna and hopped to her side. "It's a Corner Classic Creations Collection Cinnamon Croissant! They're the most bestest deliciousest croissants this side of Canter Peak!" "And I wouldn't argue otherwise, Pinkie," said Rarity. She was frowning at the spot the planter had occupied, but if she had any thought of questioning its disappearance, she seemed unwilling to voice it. "But sometimes a mare just wants oatmeal." "Jack says the same thing all the time," said Pinkie. She was bouncing around the pair of them in a wide circle now, somehow keeping pace as they walked. "And that's silly anyway, because Sugarcube Corner sells oatmeal, and muesli, and–" "The point," said Rarity, "is not the oatmeal." Pinkie Pie halted mid-air and landed, flat-hooved, in front of them. "I know, it's because Sable's upset that she has to spend time with Twilight instead of having fun with Applejack and she's even more upset that she doesn't find the things she's doing with Twilight fun any more even though they're the reason she came here, so now she's grumpy at Twilight for making her choose between her passions instead of getting to do what she wants on her free time, and she's grumpy at herself for letting other ponies lead her around instead of making her own choices." She looked up at Luna and grinned. "How'd I do?" "Well enough that I worry you have been spying on my activities," said Luna.  "Nah, I promised the Cakes, no more spying on ponies, even if they do have potential party problems. Besides, my lunch break isn't long enough to get over to sweet apple acres and back again and spy on you as well." Pinkie Pie shrugged. "I just guessed." Luna tipped her head to examine this Pinkie Pie, searching for any strange magic concealed about her, but all she saw was a plain, relatively ordinary earth pony. "A good guess," she concluded, glancing at Rarity. "And it is true, I am less than satisfied with my current plans for the next few days. Much as I love Twilight–" Luna paused until the ear-piercing hiss of Rarity's indrawn of breath had ended "–and the passions she shares with me for the night sky, I find my own desires lie elsewhere." "That much was obvious, dear," Rarity crooned. She sipped at her coffee once more and leaned closer to Luna. "There's no harm in wanting to try new things, Sable. You're allowed to change your mind." "Yeah! I changed my mind six times before breakfast!" Pinkie jumped back in front of Luna, bouncing up and down until Luna felt quite sick from the constant motion. "And six times after for good measure!" "I thank you both, yet still I made a promise to Twilight. It is unwise to break such an oath when made to a friend, is it not?" Pinkie Pie's eyes drew wide, almost glittering in the bright morning sun. She gently put her hooves to Luna's shoulders and smiled up at her. "You're absolutely right. A promise is important, you can't just break it." "So then I cannot change my mind after all," Luna replied, but Pinkie was already shaking her head. "But a promise isn't a prison!" Pinkie's hooves pressed hard against Luna's cheeks, enough that she was unable to turn away from Pinkie's maddened, bright blue eyes. "What you say and what you mean aren't always the same thing. You need to talk to one another and find out what you really wanted!" "Negotiate," Rarity added. "Rather like a contract with a client, except you're both rather more than mere goods to be traded–" Rarity fell silent, sniffing at the air with her nose raised. She looked up at the sky, then back down the road. "Do you smell burning?" "Looks like there's a little fire down near your place," said Pinkie Pie. She pointed over the rooftops to a slender column of smoke. Rarity closed her eyes and grit her teeth. "Sweetie Belle. I'm afraid I must cut and run, so to speak," she said, her magic thrusting the package of baked sweets at Luna as she turned to leave. "Hopefully I'll still have a shop for you to visit later!" Without another word, she galloped away toward the rising smoke, barely slowing even to dodge around a knot of ponies crossing the street. Pinkie and Luna watched until her tail disappeared behind a distant building, then Luna turned her attention to the now quite battered box of pastries that lay at her hooves. With a sigh, Pinkie leaned against the now-restored planter – at least Luna assumed it was the same one – and scuffed a hoof against her chest. "Momma always said ponies in this town were crazy." "I am beginning to understand," Luna replied. She picked up her package, careful not to spill its contents, and left it to drift over her back as the pair resumed their trek toward Twilight's home. "Yet many of its inhabitants are wise beyond their appearance." "So you're gonna talk it out with Twilight?" "Alas, time permits little negotiation. The nights I had known I must spend with Twilight are a few days hence, when we shall observe the conjunction of Pistis and Erato. Now I have promised her each night until then and after, to appease her evident worry that I would miss the conjunction itself, and so that she and I might study the changes to the sky since– since the restoration of the Diarchy." "Doesn't sound like the kind of thing you'd miss, Princess," said Pinkie. "It–" Luna raised her head. "Princess? Of which Princess do you speak?" "I dunno," Pinkie replied. She kicked at the dirt and shrugged. "Sometimes I like to guess ponies are other ponies in case they're wearing a disguise, and you sure do sound like a Princess, but I guess I'll never know for sure. So far the only pony I've ever got to admit it was Bon Bon, and she was super upset about it." "I see." Luna pursed her lips a moment. "As for the conjunction, you are also correct that it is not something I would miss. So," she resumed walking again. "I am at a loss as to what I might negotiate." They walked on in silence, something Luna instinctively felt must be unusual for the pink one. Some distance ahead, Spike had stopped at the corner of the street and was watching their approach from his perch on a broad, gaudily decorated bench. He waved to Luna; Pinkie Pie waved frantically back at him. "Why don't you stay longer?" For a moment, Luna was unable to form a reply. It seemed logical in hindsight, but why hadn't she thought of it before? "I–I have duties. Responsibilities. I would be remiss–" "Oh you can take care of those later! Like my mom said when I left to come to Ponyville, Pinkie Pie, you can abandon your responsibilities to your home and your family, but they will always be waiting for you. I'm pretty sure she meant what I think she meant." Again Luna was at a loss for words. She looked down at Pinkie Pie then up at the sky, as if it would suddenly scroll back and reveal an almighty chorus of gods and angels laughing at the prank that some omnipotent being must surely be playing on her at that moment. It was not to be. "Pinkie Pie," she said, lowering her gaze. "I believe you are indeed correct about the sanity of the inhabitants of this town." "Right? Anyway I gotta split!" Pinkie Pie bounced and turned in a single smooth motion to face the direction they had come from. She grinned and winked at Luna. "Don't let me catch you mooning around the place like some old grumpy guts!" There was no chance to reply. The Pink One, as Luna was quickly coming to think of Pinkie,  bounced off down the street far faster than any pony had the right to bounce, whilst singing a jaunty song about playing among the stars.  The song alone was harmless, but something about that pony's prescience was a cause for concern. Could she possibly have discovered Luna's secret? Was she able to peek through the veil of illusion that was Luna's form? Perhaps Twilight would know. A few steps later, she found Spike by his bench, from which he stared at her with a bemused expression.In mutual silence she proffered the breakfast package. He took it from her magic and held it up for careful examination until he seemed satisfied that none of its contents were harmed. "The Pink One," she began, but Spike held up a hand. "Breakfast first. I'm not going to explain Pinkie Pie on an empty stomach." "I see," said Luna. She took a long breath and let it out through her nose. "Such dire warnings do little to quell my curiosity. Perhaps I shall take her advice, and then question her myself." "What advice?" "Ah! Forget I spoke," Luna said. "Let us return to your breakfast, and Twilight's, and when the time is right, I shall speak of it to the both of you." For a moment Spike seemed ready to protest, until he shrugged and scampered back onto the path toward the library. Luna jogged to keep up with the little dragon and wondered how he was able to move so fast on such little legs. So many questions to be answered after just one day. Perhaps she would need more time in Ponyville after all. She wondered how Celestia might take the idea. Or for that matter, how might Twilight?