//------------------------------// // Flutterhigh // Story: Paint The Moon Red // by AuroraDawn //------------------------------// Nightmare Moon walked slowly down the castle hallway, catching her breath and smiling childishly as moonlight spilled in through the alcoves onto her coat. It was quiet in this wing, the only source of noise the faint hiss of wind brushing flowers outside. Ahead, a royal guard was walking towards her, his face as stoic and unchanged as any. This night had not gone at all to plan, she thought to herself, glancing over at a tall clock set into the wall. It was nearly two in the morning, and here she was, struggling to hold in giggles at the echoes of Rainbow Dash’s hurled insults. Somewhere above her, past floors of marble and gold, Celestia lay sleeping quietly, her chosen champions spread out around the city, drunk and distracted. Nightmare Moon’s brows furrowed as a pestering thought snuck into her mind. She should have killed Celestia by now. She should have slaughtered their only hope, displaced the Elements of Harmony straight to the center of the moon, and slipped her shadowy magic into the minds of the Guard by now. By two in the morning, she figured, she would have been moving down into Canterlot proper to enforce order and establish control. And yet, here she was, panting and sweating in the western wing, a smile stuck on her face and warmth in her heart. How could she feel warmth? There wasn’t a single pony praising or worshipping her before her, and yet all the same there was the feeling of being loved. Perhaps, she figured, allowing herself to think it for only a moment, Twilight Sparkle might have had a point. “Good evening, Princess Luna,” the guard spoke, pulling Nightmare out of her contemplation.  “Good evening,” she said to him, staring warily at the stallion. “Lovely weather for the festivities,” he said, passing by her. “Yes, excellent indeed. The Pegasi have done well tonight.” “Indeed, your Highness,” he replied, saluting quickly before continuing his rounds.  Nightmare Moon watched him leave, lingering on him for a moment longer than felt necessary and, satisfied that he did not glance back, faced forward and carried on. Were the ponies here not afraid of her? It seemed a possibility, and had she asked herself that question earlier in the night she might have assumed it to be true. But perhaps what her… ‘friends’ had suggested to her earlier was the truth. Maybe, she thought, they loved her regardless of her nature. It would explain this awkward feeling in her chest. She froze in place and a long, pained groan rolled up her throat. On the subject of fear, why had she fled from the patrol? She’s powerful enough to level this castle if she wanted, and never minding that, she’s a Princess of the Castle. This is her castle. So why had she run?  The memory of Rainbow Dash’s cackles drifted through her head, and Nightmare Moon shivered.  It was because she was having fun. Fun that other ponies got up to. Fun that other ponies got up to during the night. Her night. “Princess Luna?” A soft voice called out to her through the archway she had stopped in front of, and the alicorn blinked, turning to the source. “Ah, yes, hello!” the voice came again. A yellow pegasus flew in, flapping her wings to bring her onto the stone entrance as softly as possible. Nightmare Moon recognized her as yet another one of the six who had destroyed her those years before, yet this time, that surge of hatred and fear did not bubble to the surface. Perhaps because this mare seemed so fragile that there was nothing to be afraid of, she mused with a smirk. “Welcome to the Castle Gardens,” Fluttershy said, bowing low. “I’m sure by now my friends have told you that we each plan to show you around, yes?” Nightmare Moon nodded. “Indeed,” she said, studying Fluttershy further. Most pegasi she had seen or met—even in her weaker form, that she could remember—were arrogant and brash. This one appeared to be softer than silk. “I ask that you call me Nightmare Moon. I feel poorly about my… other name.” “Of course, Nightmare,” Fluttershy said, finally standing from her bow. “Anything to help you feel comfortable. My name is Fluttershy, and I’ve been really looking forward to showing you how I appreciate the night. We’ll be outside, just around the corner.” She started to walk onto the dirt path, but froze with a squeak when Nightmare spoke. “Halt.” “Y-yes?” “Walk alongside me, Fluttershy,” Nightmare said, eying the curving wall of lattice and roses that marked their path. She looked down again at the nervous pony and then sighed lightly. “None of your friends have given me reason to distrust you tonight. However, I cannot escape the feeling that my every next step is into a trap. I would prefer you to stay next to me, as… insurance.” Fluttershy cocked an eyebrow at her, but then shook her head lightly and smiled. “Ah, I understand. I deal with bad anxiety too. I’ll stay close and keep you safe,” she said, gently patting one of Nightmare’s tall legs. “That’s not wh—” “It’s good to have a friend to be honest about your weaknesses with,” Fluttershy continued as they proceeded down the path. “Too often we get hung up about looking strong and unbreakable, but we’re all vulnerable in the end, and it’s not healthy to pretend otherwise.” Nightmare Moon grimaced but said nothing, taking in her surroundings. The splendor of the gardens was mostly hard to see this late at night, moonlight notwithstanding. Most of the flowers had closed their bulbs to the cooler air, and the dark shades of green had shifted to black in the shadows. Candles set in decorative lanterns cast romantic lighting, but the flickering flames caused the vines and thorns to dance and shift in the night.  It was the sort of aesthetic that Nightmare Moon appreciated; mildly threatening and conducive to an over-active imagination, the type of setting that ghost stories were inspired by. She could not figure out why Fluttershy would choose this particular place to relax at night, given the highly apparent meekness she exuded. They rounded another corner in the maze and came across a small pavilion made of bamboo. The floor had been made of dozens of large interconnected stones, and was littered with pillows and cushions of all shapes and sizes. Small firefly lights glimmered across the slatted roof, casting a warm yellow glow about the area. “Wait here a moment,” Fluttershy said, stopping Nightmare’s stride with a hoof. “I’ll just be a second.” With that, she leapt softly forward, fluttering down onto the pillows towards the back of the pavilion, and started talking in hushed tones. “Who’s that? Who are you speaking to?” “Who?” came a new voice, and Fluttershy giggled. “It’s Princess Luna, silly, but she’s going by Nightmare right now. Don’t worry, she’s harmless,” Fluttershy mentioned to the stranger. “Who.” came the reply. Nightmare stomped a hoof on the dirt, frowning. “No games, Fluttershy! Who’s there?!” “Who,” she heard in response, and a snowy owl flapped up from the bush surrounding the plaza, circling an incredulous Nightmare Moon before landing elegantly upon the princess’s nose. “Hoo,” it said again, leaning down towards her eyes. Somehow, Nightmare realized, it was smiling. “Shoo,” she snapped, embarrassed. “Hu-hoo,” it said, rolling its eyes and taking off into the night sky. “I was just telling Mr. Fluffyfeathers that I had to entertain a special guest and would catch up with him later,” Fluttershy said. “I’m sorry, I should have said more, but I thought it would be very fast.” She beckoned Nightmare in, flipping a hoof to suggest she take a seat on one of the piles of cushions, and then jumped over to the far right corner of the gazebo where a small saddlebag had been resting. Nightmare Moon tried to sit regally and failed immediately, the cushions slipping over each other and sinking her down into the pile. Briefly she considered struggling against it, but finding the pillows exceptionally comfortable she leaned into them instead, sliding down onto her back. She sighed, content, as she settled and lounged. Closing her eyes and breathing deeply, she found herself pleasantly surprised at the saccharine scent of flowers and restorative aroma of dirt that pervaded the plaza. “So, Fluttershy,” Nightmare said, stretching all four hooves out and grunting, “this is how you spend your nights? Talking to animals and laying on exquisite pillows?” “Oh, no,” came the reply, and then another giggle. “At home I usually lean back against my tree when it’s a nice night like this. But how I spend my time, well, I like to smoke grass.” Nightmare’s eyes opened and began blinking in confusion. “Fluttershy, you eat grass.” “Not this grass,” she replied, hovering over to the alicorn with her saddlebag in hoof. “Although you can, with the right preparation, I suppose, but I wasn’t really prepared for it and if it’s your first time they can be a little excessive—oh, sorry,” she said, cringing back at the increasingly incredulous look on Nightmare Moon’s face. “It’s pot. I smoke pot.” “Pot? You said it was grass. How do you smoke a pot?” “No, silly, like… marijuana. Cannabis. Joints,” she said, digging into her bag and pulling up a lopsided cigarette in her hoof. “It’s a recreational drug.” Nightmare Moon recoiled from the joint, staring wild-eyed at Fluttershy. “I knew it! I knew you would try to pull something on me! You intend to drug me?!” “Goodness, no! I could never forcefully drug any other creature, ever! I feel awful even when I have to give my little critters medicine. No, I’m not going to drug you, Nightmare Moon.” “That’s good, because I would have destr—” “I’m going to drug myself. And you can join me, if you want. But there’s no pressure to. I thought it would be best to just relax and talk. Listen to you, you know? I don’t know how much you got to talk about yourself tonight, but it always makes ponies feel respected when they have someone to listen to them.” The look that Nightmare gave Fluttershy might very well have been the most incredulous expression the world had ever seen. She blinked slowly, tilted her head, and opened and closed her mouth several times while she tried to think of a reply.  “You’re… drugging yourself, while hosting a nigh-unstoppable evil?” she asked.  “Mhm,” Fluttershy said, fumbling with a box of matches in her feathers. “Honestly, Nightmare Moon, I don’t think I’d be able to visit with you if I wasn’t smoking pot. I’ve already had one joint tonight. …I have a lot of anxiety.” Nightmare raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?” “Yes, really. We all deal with anxiety in different ways. Some of us lash out,” she said, making quick eye contact with the alicorn before snapping back to the matches, “and some of us shrink down.” “Do you really mean to insinuate I have anxiety issues?” She huffed and snorted. “How dare you.” “I offered you a harmless way to relax and you panicked that I was luring you into a trap. You yelled at Mr. Fluffyfeathers because you thought somepony else was here to hurt you. When I found you, you were staring at a guard patrol long after they had passed.” She offered Nightmare an apologetic smile. “It’s probably wrong of me to assume, but when you’ve lived with it as long as I have, some things are really recognizable.” Nightmare’s chin dropped and she stared down at her hindlegs as she considered this. Four other ponies tonight had treated her as a friend, and each time she had accused them all of trickery or manipulation. She had been hardly able to go over an hour without her mind racing about some unlikely worst-case scenario definitely being about to come true.  There was a long silence that Fluttershy waited patiently through while Nightmare considered all of the terrible things she had lived through, despite how few of them had actually come to pass. There was a much shorter silence as Nightmare finally realized what exactly Fluttershy had said to her a moment before. “...You say you are already under the influence of this… ‘pot’?” she asked softly, angry with herself that despite all her power, she was unable to hold back the nervous quiver in her question. “Mhm,” Fluttershy nodded. “...I suppose then that… even if I were worried about this being some ostensible deceit, if it is so weak a toxin, one such as I should be more than capable of defending myself… right?” She smiled awkwardly, unsure if she was trying to make a joke or not. “Yes, absolutely,” Fluttershy said. Her ears flicked up in excitement. “So does this mean that you’d like to try it?” Nightmare threw her head back and shrugged. “Oh, what the Tartarus. Yes.” “Great!” the pegasus said, and she leaped out of her cushions with saddlebag in hoof. Landing next to Nightmare she popped the bag open and began rummaging eagerly throughout it, all while Nightmare blinked wildly at this sudden and uncharacteristic burst of excitement. “I have a few different strains you’re welcome to try. Let me see… ah yes! There’s Somnambula Haze, though that one has this weird sandalwood additive… Mistweed is nice, yes, though there’s also Sage Meadowbrook and it’s quite similar, maybe a bit more acrid. What else… Oh, right. Flash Magnum and Friendship Express.” Her head popped out of the bag and her wide overjoyed eyes met Nightmare’s. “Which would you like?” “I am not so sure I want to try this any longer. You appear to be speaking in tongues.” Fluttershy recoiled, her wings coming up almost like a turtle shell. “Oh, uhm, sorry. None of my other friends are into this, so I was a little… It’s fine.” She patted Nightmare’s leg and shook her head, and then stuck her hoof into the bag and pulled out a small bundle of paper. “For your first time you should probably try Mistweed. It’s a CBD-only strain, which means it’s relaxing.” She opened the bundle and grabbed a single cigarette with a wingtip, and held it up high for Nightmare, who grabbed it in her magic and stared at it as if she were holding a cobra. “So those other names you said were different forms of the plant?” She rotated the joint around and then brought it up to her nose and sniffed. Her nose wrinkled at the immediate skunky odor, but a moment later hints of cattails and hyacinth rushed in and swept the pungent smell away. “How very odd,” she muttered to herself. “Yes. I don’t know where they come up with these names. One strain which is purely THC—less relaxing and more mind distorting—is called Fizzlepop Berrytwist.” She laughed hard, her shoulders shaking and sinking her deep down into the mass of pillows she had just returned to. “Have you ever smoked anything before?” “I—well, Luna—so us—well, I, we…” Nightmare frowned, feeling a touch confused. There didn’t seem to be a right way to refer to herself in this context. “I have smoked tobacco on some occasions when dignitaries from Saddle Arabia arrived. They have this strange device, like a pot with hoses attached.” “Ah, good, so then you should be at least a little prepared. Did you need a light?” Fluttershy asked, her own feathers fumbling with that same matchbox from before.  “Thank you, but no.” Nightmare Moon’s horn sparked just once, and magic ignited the two joints. She observed the smoking cigarette with scrutiny. “Is there any sort of etiquette involved in this?” “Oh, lots, but usually only if you’re sharing one.” She brought hers to her lips and pulled on it deeply, her chest heaving outwards as she inhaled the smoke. Nightmare watched impressed as Fluttershy’s breath held over the counting seconds. Finally, she let her wing drop to her side and exhaled slowly, smoke flooding the little gazebo before the late-night wind carried it away. No time like the present, Nightmare thought, and so she levitated the joint up and sucked on it herself, taking a huge amount of smoke into her mouth before inhaling it into her lungs. The following display was wholly un-alicorn-like. Nightmare coughed and sputtered, doubling over as deep, barky coughs disturbed the serenity of the courtyard. Fluttershy watched while politely hiding a smirk, but said nothing as Nightmare hacked over the pillows. A minute later, chest sore and eyes burning, Nightmare glared back at her, verbal bile and acid built up on her tongue and ready to be sprayed towards the meek pegasus. She held her words for a moment, side-eyeing Fluttershy, until another minute had passed. “Not going to say anything about that?” she finally asked. Fluttershy took another puff and exhaled before responding, with a giggle, “About what?” Nightmare closed her eyes and counted down, letting the frustration built up because of her own weakness diffuse. It was not Fluttershy’s fault that she had taken more than she was used to or could handle. And while the short laugh at her might be cause for taking offense, there was some extraordinary air of total non-judgment given off by Fluttershy. Nightmare opened her eyes and then sighed deeply, cleared her throat, and weakly grimaced towards her host. “Any… um. Advice? One might give?” “Take a very small puff, no more than a gasp, and don’t hold it at all. In and out, like regular breathing. In,” Fluttershy said, taking her own deep inhalation while motioning her hoof in to her chest. “And out,” she said a moment later, sweeping her hoof away to the air at large. Nightmare nestled back into the pillows and looked at the still smoking joint, apprehensive. Fluttershy repeated her breathing motions one more time, and Nightmare followed along, letting the cold night air suffuse her body, and then followed the given directions. The smoke quickly touched her tongue and then streamed in and out of her, floating away past her lips and into the garden beyond. Despite its brief visit the vapour settled heavily onto her tongue, the flavours far more apparent now they had not been overblown by sheer heat and volume. It was pungent, and strongly floral, nothing at all like the crisp, minty grass that Nightmare remembered consuming as a child. She twisted her muzzle as she considered it, trying to identify what it was that she was tasting.  It was like seeing a new colour for the first time, she decided, taking a second puff and letting it linger for a moment longer before her exhale, desperately focusing on what was there. Some unholy bastardization of lilac and jasmine seemed to be at the forefront, two distinctly powerful scents with absolutely different profiles. Behind it all was a skunky, unpleasant taste, like ash and rubber, but very quickly she seemed to be adapting to this and less powerful hints of citrus and black pepper could be found beneath.  She found herself lost in cataloguing and separating each puff, her mind focused entirely on breaking down the components and flavors, leaving the world behind as she did so. Each mouthful of smoke seemed to compel her even further into this rabbit hole, though her inquisitive lines of thinking started to lose track and compassion as time went on. Eventually, she realized she had been picturing roses and forgetting why for over a minute straight, and she shook her head, trying to recall how she had even gotten to this point. She blinked, realizing that her eyes had been open and staring up at the night sky the entire time, her vision glazed yet focused simultaneously, sharply honed in on the few glimmering stars that could be seen through the vine-covered trellis above. A quick glance to the side showed her that the moon had jumped in the sky since her last check, a whole half hour having passed while she lost herself in the discovery of whatever this “Mistweed” truly was. Panic tried to grip her as the thought occurred that she had been entirely unaware of her surroundings for so long, but it slipped off her relaxed mind, not even hoofwaved away with some weak, pride-saving excuse. She simply understood that, because nothing had happened, she had been safe. She was safe. Nightmare watched the stars twinkle above her for one more moment before turning to find Fluttershy still across from her, eyes closed, forelegs crossed over her chest, belly lifting and falling slowly with deep, purposeful breaths. “Fluttershy?” “Yes?” came the immediate reply, though she continued to lay and breathe as if she was deep asleep. “Do you prefer the day, or the night?” Nightmare asked, resting her head on the pillows to stare at her pride and joy again. Fluttershy frowned and then shuffled from where she lay, reaching over lazily to grab a single bit from her saddle bag. She flicked it into the air and then caught it, turning it over onto her foreleg. “Do you prefer heads, or tails?” Nightmare blinked. “What?” “Which side of a bit is more valuable? Heads, or tails?” “A bit is worth a bit,” Nightmare said, her head tilting. How had they gotten onto this subject? “There’s your answer,” Fluttershy said, smiling in pride at her cleverness. There was another long, slow blink, while Nightmare Moon blankly pondered on this. “That’s not at all related to what I asked,” she finally snapped, crossing her hooves with a huff. “Heads, tails, night time, daytime, darkness, light, life, death,” Fluttershy spoke, her soft voice lilting such that each pair felt like stanzas in a poem. “All are part of a balance. There is one, and then there is the other. We need both, Nightmare Moon.” She took another deep, exaggerated breath in, and then exhaled just as theatrically. “There is an inhalation, and an exhalation, in everything. The universe breathes in balance.”  Fluttershy shifted up in her cushions and really opened her eyes, then tapped her chin while examining Nightmare Moon. “Being an avatar of a single side of a coin must be difficult,” she finally said. “But I’m sure you’re strong enough to overcome it.” “And just what do you mean by that?!” Nightmare blustered, trying to raise herself up in the pillows to tower over the pegasus and failing repeatedly at it. She kicked a lone pillow out into the garden and harrumphed. “I asked you which you felt was better, night or day! I didn’t ask for this horse-manure freshmare philosophy!” “I’m sorry,” Fluttershy said with a grimace. “I can’t answer that. There isn’t an answer to give.”  She lifted up into the air and flew with graceful, delicate motions, hovering to the fidgeting alicorn and resting a forehoof on her withers. Surprisingly, Nightmare felt herself actually calming down, and she allowed the weak press to guide her back to her seat. “Well, then, why is there no answer? Fear? Ignorance?” She spoke sullenly, sourly. “Yet another pony who withdraws away from me.” “I’m sorry you feel that way too, but that’s not what I meant.” She landed next to Nightmare, still patting her shoulders. “Because of that balance, there cannot be one better than the other. They can’t even exist by themselves. Without day, there is no night. I appreciate both for their own qualities, but can’t tell you which of those qualities are better.” “Explain.” “I like it when my owl friends come out for the night to hunt. I get to visit with them and catch up with how they’ve been. But if it was always just night, and they were out all the time, it wouldn’t be special to me to have that chance to meet them. So I need the day to appreciate that part of the night.” It started to click in Nightmare’s brain, and a tinge of resentment at herself had started to fester deep within. Her past. Her current—and how she hated to admit it—anxieties. How she felt right now. It had all spawned from her desire to be better, and it was a constant battle both within and without.  She frowned. That wasn’t quite right. Her desire had never been to be better, but to be equal. To be loved as much as her sister, to have her work and her efforts repaid with as much appreciation as Celestia’s. Yet, despite a yearning for balance, she had fought for supremacy. “It’s all the same for the daytime, too. How can I appreciate a sunrise without the backdrop of night? How can I gasp in wonder as the midnight fog burns off through the rays of light? The night—your night—is just as necessary for the day to mean anything too.” She fished the same bit from earlier out from behind her wings and held it up for Nightmare to see.  “Heads, or tails?” She flicked it, and Nightmare caught it, pressing it against her foreleg as Fluttershy had earlier. She peaked at it, noting the side that was glinting up at her, and then handed it back to Fluttershy. “Fluttershy?” Nightmare asked, staring back up at the moon. “Yes?” “Am I a bad pony?” Fluttershy pocketed the coin beneath her wing again and then rolled out of the pillows. She walked back across the gazebo, and then flumped over onto her side on her own cushions. “You are a pony who has done bad things.”  Nightmare began to turn away, tears welling in her eyes; tears of guilt, of anger, of self-hatred. Fluttershy quickly held up a wing, holding the coin high so the light caught it and glinted towards Nightmare. At the brightly visible depiction of Celestia’s cutie mark which made up the ‘head’ side, the alicorn shirked back, biting her lower lip. “And you are a pony who has done good things,” she said, flipping the coin over to the side emblazoned with Luna’s—with their—with her cutie mark. “Neither of these increases or decreases your value. Yes, we’d all prefer it if there was a net positive of “good” in the world, but, again, balance, and requirement. If there were nothing bad, then good would be meaningless. Sometimes a pony has to do bad things, say mean things, act arrogantly or strongly, to protect themselves.” Nightmare blinked the tears from her eyes and sniffed. She tried a weak smile on while Fluttershy sunk deeper into her cushions, forelegs yet again crossed over her chest and belly moving up and down with deep, controlled breaths.  “Four of your friends tonight have hosted me, taken me carousing, eating, dancing. Each has shown me what the nights mean to them.” She looked up to the stars yet again, the dazzling, glimmering lights enhanced by wet eyes. “And yet you’re the first to actually talk and reason with me without force, well-intentioned or not. I did not know how badly I needed this, Fluttershy.” Fluttershy smiled while she rested, and said nothing. “Thank you,” Nightmare Moon said. Fluttershy still smiled and said nothing. “...Fluttershy?” Nightmare Moon tried again, louder this time. “Snnzzzzzzzzz,” Fluttershy snored, still smiling. “Ah,” Nightmare muttered, nestling into the pillows. She felt a touch drowsy herself, and the deep, luxurious cushions were definitely calling to her, but she knew that she could not yet rest. There was still one more pony she had yet to meet.