The rest of the day had been uneventful. Even dull. Having run out of easily-found leads and possible oversights far more quickly than they’d hoped, Sour Sweet and Blueblood had found themselves systematically examining each remaining box. Sour Sweet had quickly skimmed the files within while cross-referencing them with other files she’d expertly dug out from other boxes; while for his part Blueblood had asked questions, made suggestions, and logged their findings.
It hadn’t been particularly hard. Just so mind-crushingly boring as to be exhausting.
So it was that the two of them had made an early night of it, before true overtiredness could set in again. Sour Sweet had continued maintaining her distance throughout the day, with scarcely a word spoken that was not directly related to the task at hand. And Blueblood, of course, had respected her boundaries. But they’d walked together down the winding hallways at day’s end, with the prince taking his leave at his own doorway. He’d wished her good night, and she’d nodded a little awkwardly as she’d turned away to seek her own rest.
Now, it was morning again. And as she entered the breakfast parlour, Sour Sweet seemed more relaxed. Completely silent, which was not necessarily a good sign. Pensive, even. But relaxed just the same.
Then, instead of simply walking to her place at the table and the breakfast that had been set for them, she went up to Blueblood and kissed him gently on the forehead, between the eyes. It was a gentle gesture, devoid of any passion, and completely without warning. But it was also obviously heartfelt.
When he was able to speak again, Blueblood asked, “What was that for?”
“That was a thank-you,” Sour Sweet smiled.
Sitting at her place as she unfolded her napkin, she continued, “I mean, don’t misunderstand, that’s not an invitation or anything, okay? I just…”
She stopped, letting her hooves fall into her lap. For his part, Blueblood let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“I’m glad you’re not angry,” he said. “I would have asked you first, but I thought that might just make things more awkward.”
She shrugged.
“I was a little, at first,” she admitted. “But by the time I was awake again…”
Then her voice trailed off, and she looked down.
“I always thought she hated me,” she whispered. “All of us. Because of what happened. Because of the war. That’s why I never asked for her help before.”
Blueblood shook his head.
“Aunt Luna doesn’t hate many creatures,” he said, “and so far as I know she hates no pony alive. But you must remember that for all her power, she isn’t a goddess.”
Sour Sweet glanced up at him, puzzled.
“Oh, she’s powerful enough,” he acknowledged, “and as close to immortal as you can get. Ask any of the would-be assassins who’ve raised their heads over the centuries. But she was born from mortal womb, like the rest of us.
“That being said, she’s taken on the duty to guide and guard all dreamers, everywhere, as best she can. And even as vast as the difference between dream time and consensual time is, she cannot be everywhere in a single night.”
“So, when the Crystal Empire returned, I just got lost in the shuffle,” Sour Sweet muttered. “Great.”
Across from her, the prince just shrugged.
“Honestly, I don’t know how it works,” he confessed, contentedly heaping scrambled eggs onto her plate. “And I’m not completely certain she does, either. But above all else, if she was in any way able to help, then I am most grateful to her.”
“Yeah, she was,” Sour Sweet nodded as she accepted the food laden plate. “I mean, we’re not done, because apparently I’m a fucking head case,” she ended in a growl.
Then, she shrugged as she dug into her eggs, adding, “But you know. Weanling steps.”