Lord Blessed Fang was true to his words.
Before sunrise that very night, Midnight had been granted all the necessary medical help that he might have required after the fierce and memorable... and damaging bout. In his case, that meant a substantial amount of herbal poultices and bandages.
As well as splints, so that his wing would be properly immobilized.
Twilight was informed quickly enough that the wound he had sustained, fighting for her honor... and more, but that was their personal secret... the exact injury he had then deepened through his almost manic tenacity, was not life-changing. Twilight accepted that with a huge dose of relief. However, Midnight was still going to stay grounded for quite some time.
Luckily for him, the local medics turned out to be most knowledgeable when it came to taking care of these sort of injuries, no doubt accustomed to seeing damage done in the verlupte.
And speaking of that mane-raising fight...
“That should sort you out, Nightguardian,” Sated Fang claimed, bringing a satchel and placing it by Midnight’s temporary bed, in the small hovel not far from the arena which served as a clinic for the contenders. “Rowan Berry knows exactly the medicine I had in mind, so she can administer it for any further discomfort.”
Midnight, for his part, was not openly hostile towards his bout rival, but he also found it a bit peculiar to be tended to by somepony that had just gifted him with a surprise trip into the bramble wall.
Much like Twilight... but she tried her best to focus on the positives, even in such a situation. Especially since, well, the healer looked genuinely interested in helping out.
“It will sound strange,” she warned with nothing but honesty, “but I am grateful for helping the Nightguardian, a valuable member of my honorary retinue, and taking care of the very damage caused by... well, yourself, Sated Fang.”
Twilight was usually better at saying things like this, at least she believed so, but considering that one of Midnight’s sides was comprised of more bandages than the pony, it was hard to distance oneself from what had happened.
At least the healer grasped the nuanced matter to the best of his abilities.
“Not the first time I do that, actually,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck a little. “I hope there’s no hard feelings. What happens in the arena, ab Bogine, stays in the arena, at least for me. I never wish to harm anypony outside of it, but when I am called for verlupte, then it is my sworn duty to give my all.”
Midnight, sitting on the bed and checking his scratched side, hissed at the bandages pulling on him. “It’s a new experience, being patched up by a rival... but praise is deserved where it is deserved, Zasitenu Kiel. Haven’t seen toughness like that since... ever, almost. How often do you steal bazaltliskiyi meals?”
The healer chuckled, shaking his head. “My wife would be a bigger threat than those beasts were she to learn I’m chomping on rocks in their caves. Nye, nye, I just, well... As I said, pretty much all of my relatives are wampiri. I have found my calling elsewhere, such was the will of Neskaza Lunee... but I always had some physical training happening around. And, since I always enjoyed a good meal and grew rather tall, I thought I might actually try to combine everything and.... here I am.” He said with a big, almost goofy grin. “Not ever chosen to be a Nocferratan and yet I got to clash with one. An honor!”
“I think you still have some blood in your nose there,” Midnight retorted, trying to get up.
Twilight was ready to step forth and help him, but Rowan Berry and Sated Fang were on it, slowly getting the stallion to stand upright.
“Atent, atent...” the healer cautioned. “You might be able to walk without much issue, Nocferratan, but take it easy. You don’t want to rip the bandages and you’ve lost just enough ver. And since, well, that wing won’t be of much use for some time, save your leg strength. You have it to spare, my face can attest for that, but...”
Midnight shook his head as much as he could and chuckled dryly. “As long as you are certain I shall be back to full strength, I can deal with being more careful for the moment... Unless you want a rematch, then I can give one to you right now, lupul.”
The big stallion patted himself on the belly. “Later. A fight always makes me hungry.” Then he turned to Twilight. “If I would be of any help to you still, hwalba knaze, around our Mountain, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll be happy to be of service!”
Twilight could choose to still sulk over what had happened to Midnight... and she wasn’t going to just let that slide, but she was willing to give Sated Fang another chance in her mind.
After all... he wasn’t the one that had dared speak up to Lord Blessed Fang and cause the scuffle.
“In the coming nights, perhaps. Thank you, Sated Fang,” she told him, getting a wide smile in return.
“Naturally. I’ll have one of mine come around to change the bandages tomorrow night, Nocferratan. Now, I’m starving and my family is waiting,” the healer claimed, getting more than ready to leave.
So the three of them left the hovel too. Thankfully, Midnight was capable of making the trip back to their quarters at the Lord’s palace, despite the discomfort. Which the armor only deepened, as Twilight could imagine, but the stallion was more than persistent about donning it after all. Still, Rowan Berry had to help him out in that endeavor, since all the dressings limited his reach quite a lot.
Twilight... tolerated his insistence. After what Midnight had managed to achieve, she wasn’t going to just oppose. Besides, she could tell that where there was that little bit of embarrassment in him over bearing so many wounds, the dark breastplate instilled vigor.
And, thankfully, there was no need to rush. Quite the opposite, their stroll was at a rather reasonable tempo. Which turned out most fortunate. Mainly due to the fact that an astounding number of the locals, those that had seen the fight themselves or who had heard about it already, were giving Midnight their encouraging exhales or a few words of support at almost every opportunity.
It made moving through the main cavern much slower than one would expect... but at least Twilight was glad that the Mountain did react to the conclusion of the quarrel with happiness rather than a grudge. And despite the local, beloved fighter losing.
Especially “interesting” to Twilight, though she would use the term loosely, was just how many batponies praised the amount of injuries that Midnight had sustained. Almost getting killed in the bout’s process was, surprisingly, not only a notable achievement but a source of great honor...
And Twilight, despite her very best and honest efforts, felt those constant stings about her heart every time a mare would come around and, quite overtly, show interest in Midnight as the victor and the wounded.
Not hard to understand, Twilight’s own affection could attest for that, but the same fondness was still shooting hidden daggers at the other mares about.
Hadn’t she been shown enough from Midnight to know she had no competition whatsoever to worry about?
Yet, the more surprising, Twilight could have sworn that Rowan Berry was also having a problem with all those mares as well. That gaze that the healer had worn right after the fight...
Twilight kept it in mind, definitely.
After a marked number of these eulogies from the local populace, the three of them safely reached their antechamber. And Midnight’s first move was to let out a long, long sigh, followed by a hiss. As if he was holding his breath this entire time.
“Kirwe, had I known this would make me so popular among Kieli, I would have made sure to roll some more in the brambles...” he uttered, his tone somewhere in between amusement and discouragement over his state. He looked back at his immobilized wing with a grimace. “These splints will keep me up all day.”
Twilight wasn’t sure how to comment on that at first. Was he trying to make a joke at his own expense or did he really feel that defeated, despite the win...?
Well, there was one, most obvious thing to tell him.
“I... thank you, Midnight Wind,” she said, breaking the silence in the room with gratitude. “You have fought fiercely, gallantly... and at a great personal cost. I will not forget that.”
Midnight gave her a glance that clearly told her that he had not forgotten the stare they had shared in the midst of the fight.
She would hope not. It was yet one more of the gazes that she was going to treasure in her heart for the rest of her life. Hoping for many more, and much more pleasant ones.
“It was my duty, Honored Princess,” he assured, smiling just a little... then grunting at the covering right next to his eye, which strained a little. “I am your assigned guardian. Think nothing of the fact that I’m merely doing what’s required. I hope, however, that the rest of your visit would spare me a challenge like this, at least until I am healed a little.”
A hiss cut through the chamber far more sharply than Twilight’s previous thanks.
Both of them looked at Rowan Berry, who was unpacking the medicine given to her by Sated Fang, putting it on the small table in a safe, but rather agitated manner.
“You’re lucky you’ll be capable of even taking a challenge like that ever again, Nocferratan,” she spoke, checking the contents of the flasks with an eye of a specialist, but an irritated one as well. “A couple more blows, a thorn in the right place and we wouldn’t even be having this conversation...”
Twilight bit her lip at these grim words, but Midnight just rolled his eyes and retorted.
“Yes, I know stakes were dire, Yazembe Acine. I’ll focus on celebrating the fact that I once more lived to see the night and tell the, well, increasingly interesting tale of my life. Besides... I’d be a pretty poor wampir if I were to fear every instance of putting my life in danger.”
“And I’d be a very poor lupule,” Rowan Berry had her own response, “if I were to ignore that you were a hair of your mane away from never making it out of that arena!”
Her declarations were rather... explosive, Twilight did take note. Another one that night.
Still, the stallion kept his cool, making his way to his resting place with enough care.
“This is but one more thing to thank Bogine for. Actually, I need to visit the Mountain’s shrine tomorrow.” He glanced Twilight’s way, seeking approval. “The Lord, as I believe, might have a feast in my honor in mind, after the victory, and I definitely would be expected to participate in it alongside you, hwalba knaze... but I still hope to make that trip at some point.”
Twilight was about to address that, considering it a rather fortunate idea. For many reasons, not just the natural curiosity over the style of a holy place in this remarkably fierce Mountain.
She didn’t have the chance, however.
“How about you ask the good Bogine for some reason too!” Rowan Berry declared, stomping her hoof, causing the table to wobble and the bottles to rattle. She did take note of her little eruption and hissed, but it didn’t change much. “Yes, I’ll bring some food, I seem to be usually used as an errand mare. And that way I won’t have to keep staring at Midnight Wind’s soleespalu muzzle right now!”
Having said that, the healer decided not to share any more glances or words with the chamber, preferring to leave in a rush.
Slamming the door behind her quite loudly.
And leaving both Twilight and Midnight a little shocked. Though the latter seemed to shake that off much quicker, his brow furrowing.
“Am I looking that bad?”
Twilight sighed at his impish tone, though his expression did betray he was asking significantly more seriously.
“If you are asking ‘in general’, I think you know my answer well enough. If you are asking ‘right now’?” She paused, her mind again taking in the sight of Midnight’s face, half covered in scratches and bandages. “You... had better nights, I imagine...”
The stallion seemed keen on following the question with a smirk of his, but that never came to pass.
“Yes... Yes, I had,” he spoke instead. He took a few more steps and sat down heavily on the bed. Hissing long as he did so. “Kirwe... It feels like half of me is on fire...”
Twilight quickly approached him, taking her spot, but giving him all the space he might have needed. It was like a strange recall of their conversation from before the fight. Then it had been the time for braving the challenges.
Now... it was about facing the consequences of them.
When it came to that, at the very moment, Midnight was ready to let go of the brave face finally. And Twilight could easily tell that what he was experiencing was nothing to be envious of, his muscles twitching and his breathing a little laborious.
“I’m... I’m so sorry...” she whispered.
He shook his head. Gently, not to irritate his wounds. “Iau lumn, I’m fairly certain we’ve had that talk and we’ve covered that... and more.” He grimaced. Then he stretched his right wing, groaning at the immobilized one straining a little against its supports. “Apparently all of that was enough for me to go kernels...”
“I... think you mean ‘nuts’, dear...” she corrected him, though somehow not finding it in herself to smirk at that error.
Go figure.
Midnight sighed, likewise not finding much humor in his mistake. “Well, whatever strangely edible food invaded my mind...” He looked over his left side again. “I... That might have been the most reckless thing I have ever done. And I’m a Nocferratan, we’re expected to be alright with all dangers and reckless tasks...”
Twilight bit her lip, looking somewhere to the side. “Then... then why did you do it? You knew you were in no shape to continue and I... you’ve already done well enough, I would have somehow worked around that loss, it wasn’t—”
“It was important. Important to you, my light,” the stallion retorted. She felt his hoof against her muzzle, as he gently made her look straight into his eyes. “And if that is so... ‘well enough’ is not good for me... You deserve my very best. And this?” He touched one of his bandages. “This will heal.”
“It will take long...” She whispered, feeling like she could get lost in his gaze right there and then. There was something... compelling in it at that moment. More than usually.
“It’s unpleasant... but I’ll manage,” he whispered. “As long as I know this pain serves you...”
“I...” Twilight paused, unsure if what she had in mind were the right thing to say. She felt warmth and pain at those words. She could nourish the former... and try with the latter. “Listen, I-I am not an expert in that field, I studied some of it, but... uhm... I can see if I could, I mean... help you out a little? With, ah...”
She pointed up towards her horn, unable to look away from Midnight’s keen gaze. He grasped what she meant without even blinking, but his stare didn’t change at all at the idea of utilizing magic.
“You are most generous, my light. And your power is great, for you have made me see even the Judging Sun’s sign, but... I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he uttered with understanding. “I’m a quick enough healer, I think, so please don’t worry. But my wounds closing too fast might raise some suspicions...” he warned additionally and not without a solid reasoning behind it. “However...”
“Yes...?” she asked... feeling that the gaze of his would make her agree to anything at this point.
“Help me out in another way right now...”
Wonderfully, his request was more than welcome. And their lips were joined a second later.
It wasn’t a long kiss, it wasn’t a passionate kiss, but the circumstances of this one made it memorable all the same. Allowed Twilight to let go of the remnants of worry and instead focus on the joy. The joy of tasting their love once more, having braved yet another challenge.
Midnight broke their connection after a moment, running his tongue over his lips, savoring the moment himself. “Always good to have something to return to...”
“Glad I could... be of service,” Twilight told him in reply, inhaling dreamily. And earning a little, gently pained chuckle. She shook her head. “I... thought I saw it in your gaze, Midnight... Then, before you charged that last time...”
The stallion wanted to speak up, then just exhaled in another, short laugh. “I... ha... yeah, I know the moment. Seeing you there, looking into your eyes among the crowd, it... It reminded me of a certain... thirst. That I had felt before.”
Twilight took note of how he said the word and knew what he meant outright, even as he continued.
“Among the pain, the piercing brambles, I felt... another sting. When I saw you, your eyes overtaken by worry and... and pride,” Midnight told her, undeniably happy about the sight, despite the situation which had caused it. “I was again reminded of what we have. That I live and fight for you. And that you are my mare... Nopony else’s. And I again realized just how much I’d want to be bound to you in crimson...”
“Oh... I mean...” She felt her cheeks gaining color, which was rather topical in its own right. Midnight’s declaration had gravity to it that they... well, they both surely understood. “I don’t have to tell you that, if... if you’d still want it, I wouldn’t...”
He put his hoof against her lips. “I know, my light. Just that fact alone suffices to sate the yearning.” He cupped her cheek. “The other craving for you I feel right now, well... I will leave it for when we’re more in private. And I’m looking less like a wrapped up gift. Unless, of course, that’s a preference of yours, or something...”
Twilight giggled at his wink, feeling the heat of his hoof and that of her cheek mingling. She sighed happily at the warmth of the present and the promise of more... warmth in the future. She definitely had something to look forward to.
Still...
“I... hate to ruin the moment, Midnight, but...” She glanced at the previously slammed door. “What was that about exactly...?”
“It’s not ruining the moment, really,” the stallion said and rolled his eyes. “It gave us the moment in the first place, so I think addressing it is a given.” He looked to the side, gathering words. “You do recall what I have... insinuated some time ago? About Rowan Berry?”
“That she can be...” Twilight didn’t finish, but she didn’t have to.
“Tac. Well, in this instance, I doubt she’d gone to send a message about my victory to anypony important. I’m not that interesting, I’m sure,” Midnight spoke, his piercing stare losing a little bit of its spark for a breath. “But it seems that her ‘performance’ is still being affected by, you know... her being into me. Although I have told her strongly that nothing shall happen.”
“Oh. Yes, right.”
They had this conversation before, yes, now that Twilight was reminded of the matter. Rowan Berry had shown interest in Midnight being a brave Nightguardian right from the start, after all.
And, how surprising, that little sting of jealousy was still very much present in Twilight’s heart at the thought, despite everything. And despite her knowing better.
Actually, she doubted it was going anywhere anytime soon... or maybe ever. For it wasn’t such a terrible thing to want the stallion all for herself, right? As long as she could keep that impulse thoroughly in check. Which she believed that she could.
Most importantly, however, was that considering what they had been through already, what they had faced and what they had built so far... she trusted Midnight. And if he had told Rowan Berry “no”, it meant no. Period.
But, having in mind this topic...
“Listen, do you think that this could have been...?”
He blinked, not really catching what she was thinking about.
“I mean, is this another clue...? I suppose operatives in many cultures are trained to use emotions to manipulate their... ‘targets’ I guess.”
Midnight’s gaze sharpened.
“Do you think that she might have tried something like that—”
“I don’t care. She won’t anymore.“
Midnight’s reply was like a stone wall erected in but a heartbeat. A response so firm, it actually felt a little unpleasant to bounce off from it.
“What was and might have been doesn’t matter. Right here, right now nothing like that shall happen.”
Normally, such a reply would worry Twilight a little. Midnight had before shown that he was having hard time expressing certain worries and deflecting topics...
Yet there was something serious, deadly serious in his tone. Something that seemed convincing enough, as if the stallion had already taken Rowan Berry’s choice and forced the answer to become reality... But it felt... odd. Displaced?
“Have you... Did you have to talk with her about that again lately? Is that why she is on edge once more?”
Midnight craned his neck... then hissed, realizing that meant straining the wounds a little.
“Kirwe...” he swore, then shook his head. “Sorry. There are still signs, yes, hard to miss even for me as a stallion... though I was told before that I am a stupid one at that,” he said, his voice cracking a little at that last part. “But I think what really caused this was seeing me... like this. If her heart has any true fondness for me, I suppose seeing me wounded can be, at the least... irritating?”
Twilight could understand that, considering how the nerves had been eating her up during the bloody challenge.
“And... it does not help that you’re trying to act brave, does it?”
Midnight chuckled a bit and sighed. “Ha, acting brave is a prerequisite in my duty, you know?” He held her hoof, squeezing it a little. “Sometimes even we, trained to withstand all and serve with all our might... well, we have doubts. Sometimes we find that what we are ordered to do might... not align with our character, I suppose. But those of us... Those who took the oaths must stand against it all. The pain and danger, the uncertainty... and persevere. Because we have found our calling and we will fulfill it right.”
Midnight’s words were filled to the brim with solemnity. She always knew how serious he was taking his tasks, he didn’t have to prove that once more. Yet hearing him talking so overtly about his duties was... uplifting. He took his role very seriously.
The stallion continued, arriving at the point he was trying to make.
“A courageous, uhm...‘aspect’, I think the expression would be, helps a lot in that. To convince others, or to convince yourself of your stance to some degree. Not everypony enjoys such, well... ‘posturing’?”
“It’s not posturing for the sake of posturing, though.”
Midnight nodded, his expression betraying that he knew all about that. “No. It is sometimes just a way to find a path among the worries and doubts, encourage oneself... and not go mad.”
“Well...” Twilight placed her other hoof on his. “Sometimes that can make you appear a little crazed, my ‘gone kernel’ stallion,” she told him.
Causing him to pout comically and look at her. Nothing but boundless affection reigning in his eyes.
“Perhaps. But... love and madness are rather close, I find...” he whispered.
Whispered in that irresistible timbre of his voice, causing Twilight to shudder all over. He tilted his head a little, his fangs reflecting the candlelight no less than his gaze at the moment.
“And I have you to thank for reaching this conclusion to my... compulsion,” he muttered, his husky tone more than clear.
“You mean your... red desire or...?” she somehow managed to ask, feeling her eyes being lulled to close and her lips to part by the sheer sound of his voice.
“Peraure if I know...” he murmured, right before he leaned in, grabbing Twilight’s muzzle with the most sensual strength and making sure she couldn’t focus on anything else for a good while than his presence and his heat.
She knew that she was going to have sweet dreams that day, despite the fight, the blood, the bandages.
As long as Midnight was there.
***
“I have to say, I imagined Equestrian train service to be of a lower standard...”
Moonwarden blinked. An interesting statement.
He looked away from the shifting landscape, which was only beginning to feel the warmth and light of the rising Sun. Meaning that it soon would become far too bright and colorful for some tastes and, through that, far less engaging... Though he also realized thinking that was making him sound positively negative in his own mind.
Nothing new.
So Moonwarden instead focused on his companion of the morn. Sharing the rather high-end suite he had managed to reserve in record time on the earliest... or latest for some, train towards the Eastern Woods.
“How so?” he inquired, genuinely curious and stopping himself from honorifics with all the might in him. As it had been decided.
“I’m not certain,” came the quiet reply. “I’ve never actually used this as a mode of transportation, but I imagined that it would be a lot less... solid? Rather shoddy? Not sure why.”
“Equestrian train service certainly did have its nasty, formative years, but nowadays one can put trust in its quality. Trottingham could be thanked for it in no small amount. And I say, let that be the first of many positive surprises on this journey,” Moonwarden retorted, checking his vest...
... almost by mistake brushing his hoof past the pocket portrait hidden in it. Even if the mare shown in it was sitting right opposite him. Though her features were slightly different than what most would be used to.
There wasn’t an actual danger involved in travelling like this, other than a crash, of course. Still, precautions had naturally been put in place, with Toolbox and Nettle Leaf having casually been assigned to the next compartment and Moonwarden making sure that no real names were placed on the reservations list.
Yet Her Lunar Majesty had decided, as to make it easier to board and leave the coach, to assume a visage of an indigo-maned unicorn of pale coat.
Like a marvelous harvest moon, hiding underneath a billowing, storm cloud. Mysterious, alluring and dangerous alike...
“Is everything alright?” Moonwarden heard a question. And realized that he had caught himself staring again at the visage before him.
His lady’s features were soft and delightful and her eyes still had the same depth to them. Beguiling in their own right, in a way that he could do nothing about.
“Yes, of course. Simply considering the situation,” he responded.
He had to admit that he might have been previously looking through the window not to be found gawking. It would have been unkind. And too easy to do, as it had just happened, as his lady even in this guise presented herself more than regally to him.
“Are you considering that this might not have been a brilliant idea after all?”
Moonwarden shook his head outright. “Preposterous, all of my ideas are faultless,” he retorted, managing to somehow elicit a brief smirk from his lady. “But would you mean the way we are travelling?”
“Teleporting four ponies to such a remote location like Hollows Shades is a bit finicky, even for the likes of me and my sister. I suppose Princess Twilight wouldn’t have much of an issue, but...”
“But, indeed,” Moonwarden affirmed. “I was actually considering one more avenue of such an approach, but it would not have been entirely reliable. However, I believe that this is fast enough, quite low-profile and actually, rather comfortable,” he spoke, making sure to, indeed, enjoy the seating, despite his back’s slight protests. “Naturally, I would have bought a private train by this point that would suit our needs even better, but feel free to blame Advisor Raven for that fiasco.”
His disguised companion shook her head. “There are times when I really don’t know if you are being serious or not.”
“Why not both?” Moonwarden told her, deciding to look a little dreamy. And mopey. “I would have liked a train.”
“Like the little spoiled colt you are?” she quipped, much to his amusement. But amusement laced with some concern.
“M—maybe ‘spoiled’ could be accurate after a stretch, but I would rather call myself ‘impeccably indulgent’. Life is a toil, but a well-earned reward for hard labour is something to revel in and appreciate.”
His lady looked outside the window, at the fields and rolling hills of Equestria, ready to welcome the day in earnest. “I suppose it’s something a little easier to say from a manor than a farmer’s hut. Not everypony lives in prosperity... or even comfort for their everyday struggles, as much as we would wish otherwise.”
“So very idyllic of a scenario that would be,” Moonwarden retorted. “However... I am anything but ‘everypony’. Which is also why I shall not simply overlook my affluence because somepony else has it worse. And to shatter the image of being only a soulless egocentric—”
“You can certainly try.”
“I believe,” Moonwarden continued, rolling his eyes a little, “that the mission of helping Equestria as a country, which is the exact reason for at least some of my prosperity, shall have the inessential ramifications of bettering the paltry lives of many ponies.”
His lady gave him a long and rather unamused look. “Is this really how you see it?”
He returned the gaze a bit blankly. “Depends whether this conversation serves a deeper purpose than a somewhat humorous distraction from your discomfort...”
... my lady.
Drat, this arrangement was turning out far more difficult than he had anticipated. It was, he supposed, a refreshment in the art of subterfuge, avoiding the title... but, more importantly, an actual request coming from Her Majesty.
Why? He had theories. Himself had a couple more. But those they would only bring up if necessary.
Still... the lack of titles shortened the distance between a servant and the sovereign. Moonwarden felt like he was foisting such lack of deference, being so utterly discourteous, it was almost sickening. Which was why the discomfort was his, rather than Her Majesty’s, he believed.
Or rather it was a shared plight, as his lady’s gaze fell after his words. She sighed, looking somewhere to the side. Barely hiding the weight on her shoulders and mind.
“Is it that obvious that I’m distraught?” she uttered the question.
“The tells by this point simply cannot hide from my attention, though I have seen them slowly gathering through the whole trip,” Moonwarden replied, trying to remove from his voice any sharpness or coldness. For her sake. “Our concept’s validity, which you have questioned, does not really hang on our choice of transportation...”
“But on me,” she spoke, the crushing doubt in her tone most discouraging.
Well, for most. Not for Moonwarden.
“I have every ounce of trust in you, m—” He interrupted himself, pursing his lips. “Well, way to ruin the declaration’s strength. Yet I mean it nevertheless. I am certain this shall be a walk in the park... which happens to be woods in this particular instance. The captain has the fear of Goddess in her and will surely be more than willing to adhere to your will.”
“And if she won’t?” came the Princess’ inevitable question.
“And if she will not immediately, as that is the only scenario I truly foresee, then I find myself more than confident that your authority and presence shall quash her doubts. And yours, simultaneously,” he stated, feeling a small smile dancing on his lips.
Not missed by the Princess. “You seem to be enjoying that particular possibility.”
Moonwarden didn’t have to be greatly introspective to grasp why he looked so pleased.
“It shall be helpful to you, for that to happen, first and foremost. A stalwart and majestic ruler most definitely needs to experience the regard. Let alone a goddess,” he explained, nodding thoughtfully at his own words. “Besides, I am sometimes... well, most of the time actually, considered power-hungry. Yet who says I cannot sate this compulsion watching you perform your role.”
A strange grimace passed through the alicorn’s disguised face. “Could you elaborate...?”
This time, he fought the smile.
“That would require using the right titles.”
The right titles, yes.
Moonwarden had to agree with himself. But... he could hardly use some of those appellations out loud. Or ever.
It was good enough of a façade, truth be told. A universal expression, referring to Her Majesty as “his lady”, with her permission. It conveyed the absolutely necessary homage for her as a ruler and an alicorn.
But she still was his mistress in more than that way. The other titles he would be ready to grant her, coming straight from his very core... well, those were not meant to be. So why would he even invoke them... and the rapture it would be to do so?
His lady, during his ruminations, shook her head and responded to his last statement. “You will think me ridiculous...”
“Inconceivable.”
“The disguise is one thing...” she revealed, though hesitantly, “but I wondered if it would, somehow, help me. To... dispraise myself. Before making a... supposedly divine appearance.”
Ridiculous.
Moonwarden quickly berated himself, then focused on this extraordinary set of statements. To somehow makes sense of them.
“To... jump upon the godly pedestal more shockingly, in hopes that it would just put you against a fait accompli without an easy backing down to your regal status?” he rapidly came up with an explanation and, much to his surprise, the Princess nodded her head.
“... something like that.”
“Not the most labyrinthine of perplexing ideas to boost one’s confidence...” he admitted, “but, had I known, I would not have agreed... my lady.”
Silence reigned in the compartment after those words, silence marred only by the cadanced sound of the loyal machine, taking them both to their next destination. There was something tense about that repetitive sound. Like a clock ticking down time to the hour of trial and judgment. Time rapidly running out.
Preposterous, Moonwarden thought. Nopony had the right to invoke tribunal upon his lady.
Who looked down, fiddling with her hooves. “I know we’ve... had this discussion before, but I still feel ill at ease that I even deserve that title, especially from you.”
He tilted his head. “Especially from me? Who am I but an utter knave?” he inquired.
But there was no real reaction. Yes, he had anticipated this being a tough test for Her Majesty, despite him suggesting the relatively easiest scenario of all which had crossed his mind. But to again see her so... apprehensive, so shaky and fretful.
It filled him with... compassion. And fury. The former had an obvious target. So did the latter.
He leaned forth a little, doing his best to keep his voice steady and calm and his expression clear, though concerned.
“Could I meet your gaze?”
What are you doing?
He somehow withstood the twinge of his mind at omitting the title once more. It made the question that much more... treacherous.
More so when the Princess consented and the depth of her stare pulled on his heart and soul. The talent in mentalism and being impervious to its tricks had nothing to do with this sort of a fixation. For its foundations did not lie in the mind, but the heart.
Moonwarden had to steel himself with all his might. Trying to formulate sentences that would beckon to his lady just enough... without compromising anything.
But what if—
No.
“Your doubts and plights are great,” he began, the kind tone holding for now. “I can only apologize that I have not grasped their magnitude earlier. That I have not looked deeper into your being, scarred and rent by the Nightmare’s grasp. I might have granted you support, being your confidant and aide, but I should have been there for more. And for that, I apologize...” he confessed, maintaining this steady, almost intimate connection between himself and his lady.
She was ready to tell him that his apology was unnecessary, that much was blatant in her gaze. But as much as no arcane compulsion was present in Moonwarden’s stare, it held her attention, allowing him to continue.
“But now that I have seen the extent of your hurt, one that cuts you off from your very destiny as the Alicorn of the Night, I can tell you – this, right now... this is not who you are. You are not a pony of failure. One that made mistakes, like we all do, maybe. But not one to lose her value, stuck in a prolonged torture over the past for all eternity. What you are... is a ruler. A defender. An exemplar. You are the Immaculate Moon. I wish to help you remind yourself that you can be perfect, even with all of your flaws... most of which are but figments, believe me. I wish to help, as faulty as this help might turn out to be, despite my constant strive for perfection. I am here for you.”
Something shone in Her Majesty’s gaze. Something warm and fond, but Moonwarden couldn’t let that spark distract him.
“Perhaps I will not be the one to banish all of this... this fear and this guilt, rendering you so ailing and timorous. Maybe that is somepony else’s calling and success to be, in the yet untold future, to absolve you... but I promise you, that right here and right now, as long as there is breath left in my lungs... and your patience for my prideful folly holds,” he added with a small smile before finishing, “I will aid you in whatever way I can... my lady.”
Silence returned to the suite, again measured in the metallic ticking of the wheels and the tracks... but it wasn’t the same quietude. Moonwarden felt the shift, despite the fact that his heart was pounding and his mind was throbbing over being so open and yet so cautious simultaneously.
But more important than the chaos in his being was the Princess’ gaze softening. Her stare had calmed down, regained the quality of the untold, stoic cosmos. The fear, welling up in those dark, mysterious pupils waned. The worry was still there, Moonwarden was more than certain... but he had dispelled it for those few moments, at least. Pushed it back and made it submit.
Yes... that victory could too satiate his hunger for power and dominance.
And, not to mention... it simply felt right.
He remained silent, patiently waiting. If there were to be a response, it had to come from a genuine, unhurried place. And he was more than happy to grant his lady all the time she now needed, if she even were to reply. What he saw in her stare... what he was seeing in it still, was enough of a statement in return.
At least, he thought so... until she opened her mouth.
“Thank you, my loyal servant...”
Came the Princess’ sentence, imbued with pure gratitude. Something about her muzzle, hidden away behind the illusion, still showed how moved she was by these declarations. And that she didn’t bother to hide it much.
“Your words... they mean a lot,” she uttered.
Her voice shook a bit as she was now looking straight into his eyes. Not an ounce of shame or discomfort in her at showing this appreciation.
Making Moonwarden even more worried about getting lost in her gaze.
“I think...” she paused for a second, considering her next words. “I think that had I heard all of this from a pony more... adhering to the ideals of Friendship and Harmony, or even my sister... I wouldn’t have believed in it. I wouldn’t have confidence in the depth of those words. But you?”
As she paused... a smirk flitted across her lips.
“An utter and incorrigible miscreant?”
Moonwarden hid his own sly expression a little bit better, though it took every ounce of concentration. This felt like...
... repayment?
Achievement. Like a compensation of the kind he had not been expecting and which was at that moment causing his heart to thrash in his chest. Its frantic beat warming up his being... strangely flowing and gathering around that small, little, secret pocket portrait in his vest.
He tried to focus and reply, keeping his voice as composed as he could.
“I shall take the epithet as a compliment in its own right. Though, I have to ask, my lady... Do you think it wise to trust the words of a master mentalist and a malefic manipulator?” he inquired.
And she laughed.
She actually laughed.
A brief, sweet laugh which warmth was more than enough to permeate right to Moonwarden’s core.
“I know what you want me to say,” she spoke afterwards, that tone of wily satisfaction only adding to the moment’s strange allure. “ ‘Distrust shields us better than an armor of steel’. Followed quite adamantly by words like ‘control is the better part of trust’... And I appreciate those lessons of yours, to this very morn. But now... yours was not a question of whether I am naively trusting or irrationally cautious in general... but a question of whether I trust you.”
Something happened.
Moonwarden had no idea what. Other than realizing anew, that he was still staring right into his lady’s wondrous eyes and saw something... more to these pupils of exquisite darkness.
“Yes.”
... what did she just...?
“And those words? Spoken like that towards me? Yes... And for the third time – yes. So thank you for them and all that you have already done, my most loyal servant.”
Moonwarden’s very soul stirred.
Without thinking much, despite the lack of proper space and the fact that a train compartment was a far inferior space than a throne room, Moonwarden got up from his seat. With a swift, practiced motion, he swept his travelling cloak to the side, and found just enough space, though sideways, to kneel before her.
Her Majesty, the Alicorn of the Night. Proclaimed the Goddess, Immaculate Moon.
“My lady...”
He uttered. This most miraculous of titles in his mind. In his heart.
He dared not to lift his eyes, but felt her grateful and approving gaze upon his grey, insignificant form.
The gaze of a sovereign.
... but... not only?
“Rise, my servant, and take your seat,” he heard her request, “lest I just drop the charade entirely.”
Moonwarden took just the right time to get up, not to appear in any way eager to abandon his subservient gesture. When he stared at the Princess again, her smile became less warm... but that didn’t mean the moment had never happened.
Quite the opposite. It would last and live in his memory. A glimpse. A sliver. A shard of what could have been, but would never be real.
He could live with that.
Somepony’s coming.
“I believe,” Moonwarden spoke, glancing at the suite’s doors, “we’re soon to arrive.”
A knock sounded just that moment and Toolbox’s rougher tone spoke from behind the wood.
“We’re stopping in five,” he announced with just the right amount of volume not to be obnoxious, nor overheard by half the train.
Moonwarden didn’t let him know he acknowledged the information, preferring to focus on making sure his garments and rather meager luggage were prepared to meet the Eastern Woods.
“Are you ready, my lady?” he inquired of the Princess.
“Are you still by my side, like you promised?” she asked back. And he was more than happy to smile and nod.
The morning in the hamlet of Hollow Shades did not differ much from the eve, as much as Moonwarden could attest for that. The thicket of trees, cut through only so that the train tracks could reach this remote location, robbed the ground of much of the sunlight. Which neither him nor anypony else of the four would object to, as he imagined.
One more pony made their way off the train and onto the small platform. And then from it, soon making the place look positively abandoned.
“Ah, to see the rustic nowhere again, how charming,” Moonwarden uttered, which made Toolbox snort a little.
“Careful there, boss,” he whispered back. “Your gentry’s sticking out.”
Moonwarden rolled his eyes. That was nothing new, honestly.
The Princess, in the meantime, was looking about. Taking in the forest scenery a little and, as he could imagine, reminiscing or connecting the name of the place with the sight before her eyes.
“I must say... I do find this place rather charming. Or, I would in entirety, were it not for...”
She glanced Moonwaren’s way and didn’t have to finish that particular sentence at all.
He grasped it. And preparations had to be made. To, at least, begin dealing with that certain... lack of closure that she had so transparently referred to.
“Nettlie.”
“Y-yes, sir?” the mare asked, the glasses on her muzzle bouncing in panic just a little.
“Be so kind and, with Toolbox, escort our esteemed guest to your abode,” he ordered, passing his bag to the big stallion, who nodded in agreement. “Despite the location, do make sure the accommodation is as proper as it can be, even considering the limited resources,” Moonwarden instructed firmly.
“Fret not too much,” his lady actually contested his resolve at assuring her comfort. “This is not a pleasure voyage. Besides, I do not need luxury all the time in my life.”
“It is rather kind of you to lie like that,” Moonwarden retorted with a smirk.
And for some reason he could have sworn that, were it not that they were further apart from one another, his lady would have very eagerly bumped him across the head.
Or maybe he was presuming far too much from that conversation they had shared. He had to pull himself together.
“As I have said, I leave the quarters to the two of you,” he declared, checking his garments. “I shall head out and contact a friend I have helped here the last time before joining you at Nettlie’s house.”
“You sure you want to go all alone, boss?” Toolbox inquired, looking around with caution. “I could be on the lookout for any scuts.”
Moonwarden shook his head, letting out a chuckle. “It is very kind of you to care, but very degrading that you think I need an escort in the first place.”
The said chuckle hid another matter behind it.
Although he had kept silent about it, he didn’t forget that strange... sensation he had felt back outside the Nightguard’s bastion. That feeling of being observed, with lethal intent. But he would not let that overwhelm him. He knew how to be cautious on his own and a lone stallion would gather less attention when moving about in the right way.
All of those years of scheming and subterfuge weren’t for naught, after all.
Moonwarden turned to his disguised lady, his voice confident. “I will not take long. Just enough to make sure we do not have to lose a night of our stay here on empty waiting for the right moment.”
“That’s fine,” she replied, looking upwards at the little clearing above the train tracks. “I wonder how the night looks around these parts, actually...”
There was something definitely... reflective about her words?
Well, maybe a night could have been spared.
Focus.
“I am certain we could have a chance to experience it. I doubt it will take too long to get what we require from your... supplicant.”
After those words and a very covert bow of his neck, Moonwarden turned to head into the village proper.
Not slinking through the morning shade much, since that could have been seen as a bit too clandestine, but an operative’s training was definitely at play. Enough so, that when he finally stood in before the familiar doors of the town hall, he felt rather confident that nopony in the hamlet had actually seen him passing through.
It helped that the place didn’t really have, what one would call, a blooming social life. He imagined that most of the ponies were already hard at work in the lumber mills and the rest of their families had their own business to deal with, instead of mingling about the village.
It was, actually, rather refreshing after such places like Canterlot.
Or worse, Ponyville.
Not that he was prejudiced, but there was a number of reasons why he would mark that location as a bit too frenzied for his tastes. It was like a random crisis was hitting the place every week or so.
A small knock on the town hall’s door was all it took for the sound of hooves to happen behind them.
“Coming!” came the strangely enthusiastic response.
How interesting.
Soon the entrance opened a little and a marigold muzzle under a caramel mane appeared in the crack of the door.
“Yes, how might the—”
That was as far as Quill Driver managed to get before his pine eyes widened at the familiar, and decidedly worrying for him, sight of Moonwarden.
“Mister Quill Driver. It has been a while.”
“M-my lord,” the stallion stammered, taking a step back and opening the door wide, causing the hinges to squeal from the sudden strain. “I-I... We weren’t told...”
“Of course you were not,” Moonwarden retorted, strolling in with confidence. “But I take it even a surprise visit will not faze the hard-working dignitaries of Hollow Shades’ Town Hall.”
The stallion quickly closed the hall tight, stood right before Moonwarden and offered an almost reverential bow. “No, no, no, of course not, my lord!” he assured, with just that little bit of a healthy panic. “You are most welcome, the Town Hall is at your disposal.”
Such a welcoming colt.
Indeed. Without a doubt that little number that had been done to the mayor had spoken to Quill Driver. Not to mention that the secretary himself had received his own, argent dosage of mental warnings and motivation.
“At my disposal, all of it? Thank you, mister Quill Driver, this is most generous of you to offer,” Moonwarden let him know with a small, most dangerous smile. “I take it the esteemed mayor Stamp Duty is hard at work?”
“Y-yes, my lord, that he is,” the clerk confirmed. Shrinking and folding into himself at the question. “Ever... e-ever since your visit, my lord, the mayor has been... r-relentless in performing his duties...”
“Has he now?” Moonwarden inquired, tone more than curious. Which managed to scare Quill Driver even further. “I am so pleased to hear that. And what of his... affliction?”
The stallion gulped, clearly hoping that would clear his throat and make sweat stop running from underneath his caramel mane.
“N-not a drop, my lord. He tossed out all of his stashes, publicly apologized for his... his previous state to the town. He even...”
A dramatic pause?
“Come now, mister Quill Driver, surely I wish to hear all of it. And without delay,” Moonwarden encouraged him in the most distressing way possible.
“Y-yes, my lord! He... he is taking most of his salary, anything that he doesn’t need t-to make a living here and... and sending every bit to his wife. For treatment.”
“Oh?”
“Y-yes, my lord. He is, actually, also planning on asking for a leave of absence soon, so... so that he can spend time with her. Reconnect.”
Well, well, well...
Himself was correct to be genuinely intrigued. It was rather uplifting to hear all of that after the last... invasive treatment that Moonwarden had granted to the mayor. Cutting a few strings, reforming old ones, doing a general, mental spring cleaning was no small feat, even for a master of this abstruse branch of magic. To hear it producing results was encouraging.
However... as strong as those spells were, they couldn’t just create something out of nothing. There was a way of weaving a compulsion, one that could be maintained over some time, with the correct reinforcement and techniques of triggers, anchors, patterns... But those things were, ultimately, fake. Forced. Couldn’t last or grow.
But Moonwarden didn’t remember having outright ordered the mayor to repair his relationship to such a degree. So that fallout had stemmed from genuine emotion. Which simply had needed to be helped resurface.
A good deed for the decade.
“And I take it that you,” he asked, returning to the more self-serving part of the conversation, “shall be the acting mayor when Stamp Duty does take that leave, shall you not, mister Quill Driver?”
The same, easily recognizable spark lit up in the secretary’s eyes. Just like it had appeared the last time.
“Mayor Stamp Duty personally asked me to take that role. And has endorsed me,” the marigold unicorn replied. And couldn’t stop that small note of ambition from invading his voice.
How egotistical and useful of him.
“See, mister Quill Driver? I have told you that the Royal Office is keeping an eye on ponies of wit and skill, ones to be helpful to the country,” Moonwarden reminded him, receiving something of a nervous half-smile. “Who knows if the mayor will decide to even come back? Or will he turn his life completely around at but a... glance?”
And the stallion’s grimace was gone completely, overtaken by utter horror.
Alright, that was enough of tormenting the colt to make a point. It was not really that necessary, nor was a strange whim, but Moonwarden wanted to be more than assured that the secretary would not do anything stupid regarding his visits.
He was much too terrified to do that. And if things were to take a far worse turn at any moment... it was much more beneficial to have a pony more scared of you than an enemy.
“I will have a moment with the mayor. Make sure we are not interrupted. And... could I have you run a quick errand for me later on too, mister Quill Driver?”
“Oh, I—”
“Really? How cordial of you.”
There was no reason for more prostration, so, leaving the secretary scrambling back to his duties, Moonwarden simply trotted away and towards the mayor’s doors. After a knock and but a brief pause, not really caring for a reply from inside, he opened the way himself and crossed the threshold in a commanding manner.
Well now.
The room was far brighter this time. The curtains were open, the place was tidy, ventilated and not one hint was there of it having been a den of alcoholic indulgence of Stamp Duty. The said pony was sitting behind the big desk, rather than lying across it, curiously looking over the stacks of papers that he was rather engrossed in.
He had a tidy and well-kept look about him. Even his eyes, as they gazed up from the everyday’s work, were clear, not a vein in them red.
“Yes, how can I help—ah, sir Moonwarden!” the mayor recognized him, straightening up to greet him more than cordially.
“Good to see you, dear mayor,” came the response, almost like from an old friend. “How fares the wonderful hamlet?”
“Better, much better. Especially since your last visit, sir,” the stallion replied, removing a strand of burgundy mane from his forehead and pointing at the seat before him. “Please, take a seat. A sudden visit, but I welcome it. I cherish any and all chances to talk and thank you, good sir, for your help in sorting me out. I needed a stern talking to.”
The mayor needed much more than that to break an addiction, but he didn’t need to remember all the details of the procedure. It was enough that he was thankful, enthusiastic and eager to show his gratitude. It would be all most advantageous.
“Nothing to thank for, dear mayor,” Moonwarden assured with a kind smile, taking his seat and mindful of his back. “The local ponies, the country, the Royal Office, I dare say all benefit from you feeling and performing much better than before. And I have also heard that you have managed to bring a new spark to your married life, would that be true?”
Stamp Duty took a deep breath, shaking his head. “Not yet, not entirely, but... I’m doing my best. And it’s being received well.” He sighed, almost melodramatically. “I cannot believe I’ve let all of it just... That I’ve tried to escape from it all. And into drink?” he asked rhetorically, scarcely believing what he had been doing with this life.
“We all have our addictions, dear mayor. It is simply beneficial to find the better compulsion at some point in life. Maybe one that actually helps others,” Moonwarden declared, checking whether his monocle was in place. “And one that does not make one believe that they are... gathering pollen for woodland spirits.”
The mayor chuckled in mounting and sincere embarrassment. “Yes, I... do recall that. Most sincere apologies for that silliness. And calling you, sir... ‘Sunshine Rainbows’?”
Almost there.
“Actually, I suggested that, seeing your sorry state,” Moonwarden clarified, leaning in a little. “Speaking of which, actually...”
He smiled wickedly. Blinked. And his eyes filled to the brim with argent light which transfixed the stallion in but a heartbeat.
“The ‘fairies’ need a word.”