Chapter Sixteen: The Reflected World
~BlackRoseRaven
The Looking Glass Ponyville was almost a perfect replica of the Ponyville that had once been: thatch-roof cottages and homes, a friendly atmosphere, all of it built around the wide center square in which rested the enormous, ironwood tree that housed the library among other landmark buildings. Most of the construction here was finished, and while Luna had been glad to let the laborers attend to every other city as they saw fit, she had personally overseen every last detail of the construction of her little utopia, wanting it to be as close to the original version as possible.
A few Nibelung were still present, however, dressed in simple clothing instead of battle armor, grouchily wielding hammers and carrying supplies as they pieced together furniture, carved charms, and did other odds and ends, mostly staying away from the buildings. Zecora gazed back and forth in amazement as Luna smiled over her shoulder, visibly loosening up as Pollen’s voice exclaimed from where she was staring out the ajar door at the back of the wagon: “This is incredible! It’s… it’s Equestria!”
“Ooh, sounds like you managed to save someone really smart to have made that leap of genius, fancy-corn.” deadpanned a flat voice, and Luna grumbled as she halted in the square in front of the enormous tree. Zecora and Scrivener brought the wagon to a stop as well as they looked towards a Nibelung… but unlike the other dwarves, it was slightly taller, with grayer fur and its tusks cut down to only stubs, cleaner-looking than its greasy-furred, laboring brethren as well and with more of a distinct, cultured tone to its voice. “I saw the Bifrost and the Pales, fancy-corn. I have to admit, you’ve exceeded my admittedly-low expectations.”
“Pollen, come and meet a wretched intellectual.” Luna said grumpily over her shoulder, as Scrivener began to pull off the harnesses and Zecora automatically did the same. The Nibelung snorted in entertainment at this term, and then looked with surprise as Pollen awkwardly clambered out of the wagon, carrying the vial holding Discombobulation in her mouth. “Illyria, this is Pollen, the sole mare Velite. In the vial is a Draconequus, known as Discombobulation. And finally, the zebra is Zecora… she and her kinfolk have been working to save their people in a manner similar to the job given to me and mine by Odin. Finally, friends, this is Illyria. He is a Nibelung Architect, who follows the dwarves’ ancient codes and principles. But he is as rude, ungrateful, and nasty as any axe-wielding thug, be not fooled by his ability to speak without growls and grunts.”
“Hey! We speak fine, fancy-corn!” argued a Nibelung standing near the library with a hammer, the shirtless wolf-pig grouchily waving this back and forth and almost smacking another dwarf standing nearby with an armload of boards. Illyria, meanwhile, groaned and dropped his face in his hands as the dwarf laborer behind him continued haughtily: “We smart and talk good, not like Diamond Doggy dumb-dumbs!”
“Shut up and get back to work!” Illyria shouted over his shoulder, and the group of Nibelung squealed, half of them dropping their tools as the other half flailed around like children, and then the Architect grumpily returned his eyes to Luna before they flitted up to the wagon, and he frowned a bit, holding a hand out to her when she began to open her mouth to silence her.
She glared in frustration at him as the Architect stepped past her, examining the carriage curiously as he muttered: “Well, what have we here? A carriage built to travel the Bifrost, I assume, but it’s held up spectacularly well… this composite looks fascinating, and from the state of the gemstones I’d say… yes, yes, I think that-”
Then he winced as a blue aura surrounded his body before Luna snapped her horn to the side, the wolf-pig thrown firmly backwards by a telekinetic lash to bounce once on his rear and end up half-sprawled on the ground as he barely managed to catch himself with his arms, cursing under his breath and glaring at the winged unicorn as she said moodily: “Thou can investigate it later, vile cur. For now, it requires minor repairs, and then I desire it to be sent out to our cottage in the wilderness. Furthermore, Pollen is in need of repairs herself… she is a Velite, so all thou needs to do is give her the bones and a carving instrument and I am sure she will do the rest.”
“Ridiculous, she is merely a Velite pawn. I shall consult an engraver and have them prepare a set of cattle and deer bones for her within the hour.” Illyria said dismissively, flicking his wrist as he stood up, and Pollen looked up at him, obviously unsure whether she should thank him or be insulted. The Architect only went back to ignoring her, however, returning his eyes to Luna and asking distastefully: “Will the fancy-corn and her maid finally be moving permanently to this layer of reality?”
“Nibelung, Scrivener Blooms could break thee like a twig, so I demand thee cease referring to him as that.” Luna said flatly, and Illyria only sniffed disdainfully before the winged unicorn groaned in disgust, then added grouchily: “And nay. Whatever Odin or his lackeys have told thee, we plan upon returning to our poisoned homeland as soon as possible.”
“It is not your homeland, Valkyrie, Asgard is your homeland.” Illyria pointed out, and Luna’s lips pursed and her eyes narrowed slowly as Zecora frowned and cocked her head. “Oh, fine, be that way then, fancy-corn. I certainly have no reason to attempt to dissuade you from a suicidal course of action. I dislike enough working beneath Odin and his foot-fellows… I dislike even more working with the dregs of my society, and even more than that, being forced to put up with your presence and bullying. I know my job. I do not tell you how to do your job, why must you insist on telling me how to do mine?”
“Thou may understand thy job well, but thou forgets that it is not for thee that thou art building this Equestria… it is for us. And furthermore, thou agreed to the terms years ago, did thou not? Thou and thy few remaining scholarly brethren were saved from Niflheim and brought up here, with a cadre of… less-intelligent Nibelung…” Luna grimaced a bit as she looked past at the workers, who were grumbling even as they efficiently went about their tasks for all their slovenliness. “And all of thee will be granted freedom and refuge here in Looking Glass Equestria to pursue thine hearts’ desire. Unless thou wishes to return to Niflheim, the eternal ice, and dodging demons and mercenary bands and all the other horrors that exist in that sallow place.”
Illyria sighed as he held up his hands, looking moody as he mumbled: “Very well, fancy-corn, you win, you win. I shall attend to your requests… but may I at least ask exactly what you plan on doing while here? Especially with that… striped-pony in tow, and for some reason dragging along these other entities like some freakish entourage.”
Luna rolled her eyes at this, then she retorted rudely: “At least I have friends, lonely dwarf intellectual.” She paused, then glanced at the vial, her horn glowing before the bottle was hefted into the air, and Discombobulation winced as he fell on his rear as Luna guided it quickly over to Scrivener Blooms and slipped it into the burnt-looking satchel he was still wearing over his damaged armor. “Pollen, Zecora, please feel free to familiarize thyselves with Ponyville and the surrounding area. Scrivener and I are going to wander Ponyville, ensure that our specifications have been met, and perhaps talk with another Nibelung of more pleasantness and use than Illyria could ever be.”
“Greece is not here at the moment, the artificer is busy in Canterlot, aiding other Architects.” Illyria retorted, and Luna groaned and threw her head back in disgust before the dwarf added moodily as he crossed his arms: “I am currently the only Architect here. Unless you wish to speak to the Strange Ones, but they do not count.”
“Alas, the poor dwarf is jealous.” Luna said drolly, and the Nibelung glowered at her almost angrily even as a faint blush tinged his cheeks. Zecora and Pollen both looked curiously towards her, but the winged unicorn only gave a slight smile, saying mildly: “Oh believe me well. Thou shalt know the Strange Ones when thou sees them. Worry not, they are far less hostile than these wicked, greasy dwarves.”
Illyria grumbled under his breath, reaching up and moodily rubbing at one of his cut-down tusks before he said distastefully: “If that is all, I believe I have errands to run. Velite, wait here. Fancy-corn… pleasant as always to have seen you.”
“Oh aye, the feeling is as mutual as can be, I am sure.” Luna responded dourly, and she and the dwarf glared at each other for a moment before the Architect turned and stormed off, and the winged unicorn rolled her eyes before glancing towards Pollen, saying mildly: “Worry not, he is competent. ‘Tis the sole reason I have not pummeled him into mush. These Nibelung who remember their past are nefariously good at their jobs.”
“All the same, they seem like an unpleasant bunch… I am surprised you managed to restrain your punch.” Zecora commented, and Luna grumbled a little in answer before she added thoughtfully: “I think that I will take a look around, and see what there is to see in this new stomping ground. Of course, Luna, that’s as long as you don’t object… after all, from your wrath, I wish to myself protect.”
“Yes, of course, Zecora, thou may look around as thou wishes… ‘tis not my Equestria, after all.” Luna smiled a bit, glancing up towards the calm blue sky overhead as she said softly: “’Tis a new world, for all of those that we can save… ‘tis an Equestria that will belong to all of us.”
For a few moments, the zebra studied the winged unicorn curiously… then she smiled and nodded before turning away, saying thoughtfully: “It’s all the more fortuitous it was you who weathered the storm… I know of few others who would be so generous and warm. It’s refreshing to see the night is not so cold as most think, and that should light fail, darkness will bring us back from Hell’s brink.”
Luna smiled amusedly at the zebra’s back as she strode away, and then she glanced over at Scrivener Blooms as the earth pony shook his head, saying mildly: “If I could rhyme like that, I would have actually made money off my books.”
“If thou spoke in rhyme such as that I would likely beat thee all the more often.” Luna replied dryly, then she glanced towards Pollen, saying kindly: “Once thou art repaired, thou too can wander as thou likes… or meet us back at our cabin, the path is fairly marked or a Nibelung can take thee. We shall see thee shortly either way, Pollen.”
The Velite awkwardly waved with her remaining front hoof to the two as Scrivener Blooms and Luna turned away, and the two ponies headed past the library and into the streets of Ponyville, beneath the calm blue sky and the shining warmth of the golden sun above.
More out of impulse than anything else, when the sun was lowered at nightfall, Luna herself rose the ivory moon… and smiled in delight at the sight of the whole, beautiful orb in the sky, gleaming softly as the stars twinkled quietly around it through the darkness of the velvet, black sky. It was calm and peaceful, and Scrivy and Luna traded warm looks with one another as they rested on comfortable, plush black bedding in their beautiful cabin in the wilderness.
They had found a deeper spot in this world’s version of the Everfree Forest: it didn’t provide the same perfect cliff, but it had a small slope that Luna had been gradually shaping and expanding into a larger hill, giving them a slight vantage point almost at level with the tops of the enormous trees. With the aid of Nibelung workers, they had also hollowed it out and then shored it up with ironwood pillars, effectively turning the landscaped hill into a half-bunker, half-storage shed.
The cottage itself was roughly three quarters finished: one front corner was still skeletal, the walls unfinished, the ceiling there covered by tarps instead of shingles. It had been a last-minute addition due to the fact that Luna enjoyed adding things in on impulse while Scrivener tried to get her to step-by-step. The result was the cottage had several complete, furnished and decorated rooms, a painted and varnished – and gorgeous, if Scrivener did say so himself – front deck and back patio, and the rest of it was incomplete.
If they had the time, they would at least finish the walls and roof this week, however… and Luna was determined to make the time one way or another. She also wanted to work on their bedroom – it needed to be painted and the flooring needed to be finished – and finish setting up the garden out back, which currently was just a weedy, fenced-in lot next to a pretty, scenic pond in which a few bullfrogs could be heard singing in the clear night air outside, as a soft breeze blew and added its whispers to the melody of the night.
In the front yard, the wagon rested, and Pollen had actually set up a small home of her own inside of this: it made for a cramped living space, but the Velite seemed content and thrilled in the night air, and it helped that the gemstone-armored wagon was likely even sturdier than the black-polished, ironbark cottage. Luna had also provided some old bedding, blankets, and pillows for the Velite as a courtesy, and finally grouchily added that she was free to come and go as she pleased: she was welcome in their home.
But Pollen didn’t want to intrude, saying embarrassedly she would feel awkward enough moving in while Luna and Scrivener returned to the corrupted Equestria. Luna had appreciated this thought, and now rested comfortably, side-by-side with Scrivener Blooms, their armor discarded and stored in their room as they gazed up at the mantel of their fireplace and the painting that now hung over it, of the male charging through the shadowy forest… and both of them smiled a bit as she said quietly: “Yes. This is good. This is right.”
She drew her eyes down to the blue flames burning in the fireplace as Scrivener looked at her warmly, unable to do anything but agree: the room around them was beautiful and pristine, after all, with the large and comfortable bedding, pillows strewn here and there over the floor and the lamp in the ceiling above casting a soft glow over everything. Other paintings hung over the varnished walls and behind them, as in their old home, an archway and countertop was all that separated large and spacious den from a kitchen that was almost a perfect replica of their old one… apart from the fact everything was in much-better shape, and instead of a fridge they only had a box kept cold by magic.
Then they both looked up in surprise as Discombobulation calmly strode forwards and sat down on Luna’s other side, the tall Draconequus grimacing a bit as he rested back on the bedding and blinking owlishly at them when Luna snapped: “Creature! Return to thy bottle, ‘tis dangerous for thee to be out!”
“Oh shut up, Scrivener Blooms, no one likes you.” Discombobulation replied tiredly, and Luna glowered before Scrivener winced and grabbed her before she could attack the Draconequus as the chaos entity rolled his shoulders, then picked up one of their blankets and half-wrapped it around himself as he gazed into the fire, muttering: “Time rushes toward us with its hospital tray of infinitely-varied narcotics, even while it is preparing us for the inevitably fatal operation. I would rather take my chances out here in the open air than live forevermore as a caged bird in a gilded prison.”
Luna softened a bit at this, and Scrivener Blooms smiled a bit as he looked over the Draconequus slowly before saying softly: “Back to stealing quotes, are we?”
“Well, you know. Can’t teach an old Draconequus new tricks and all that. Besides, Luna, I can’t let you be the only scavenger of the dead around here, can I? Better to be ghouls of words together than grave-robbers apart.” Discombobulation paused meditatively, and then he added dryly: “As long as you’re not a necrophiliac. Several famous authors loved the dead a little too much, you know.”
“Writers are a sick breed.” Luna muttered in agreement, and Scrivener rolled his eyes in entertainment before the winged unicorn nudged him gently, saying softly: “Tea, I think, would be better tonight, poet. And perhaps something to eat, if the food is not stale.”
Scrivener nodded with a smile, climbing to his hooves and heading into the kitchen to prepare the kettle and tea before Luna stood up as well, heading down the hall to a small closet. She returned a few minutes later with a thick blanket floating beside her, and this comforter gently draped itself around Discombobulation as he looked at her with surprise, but then quickly glanced back towards the fire as Luna flopped down beside him. “You ponies are a strange lot. Not as bad as everyone says, though.”
“Thanks, Bob, thou art not so bad thyself, once one gets past the layers of… thee.” Luna gestured at him widely, and Discombobulation rolled his eyes with a grumble. For a little while, they sat in quiet together… and then the Draconequus was once more surprised when Scrivener returned with a tray of three mugs of tea, some jam, and a loaf of sweetened bread as Luna invited: “Well, hurry up, Bob. We have to take care of thee, after all, do we not?”
“As long as this isn’t my last supper and one of you don’t betray me before the night ends.” Discombobulation finally said, and Scrivener had laughed as Luna only sighed and rolled her eyes, giving him a flat look as the Draconequus moodily picked up his mug of tea… then shrugged a bit and added quietly: “Here’s lookin’ at you, kid.”
He sipped at it slowly… then grimaced a bit as he leaned back and shook his head firmly out, looking moodily down at the tea. “I would give all my fame for a pot of ale and safety.”
“Well, Discombobulation, if I was actually pretending to take you literally, I’d tell you the only ale around here is made by the Nibelung. And I’m pretty sure it would kill you. In fact, I’m pretty sure it would kill Luna.” Scrivener replied mildly, and the Draconequus snorted in amusement at this as the winged unicorn gave the earth pony a challenging look. “No dear, that isn’t an invitation to go and get drunk with the dwarves.”
Luna grumbled a bit at this, and then she picked up her own mug and sipped at it slowly, saying finally: “To be honest, Scrivener Blooms, I do not miss drinking anymore as much as I did at first. Now that I have spent so long without even a glass of wine, it feels more like a challenge to live up to…” The winged unicorn gave him an entertained look. “Strange, the way we adjust to things, no?”
“Well, strange the way you adjust to things, Luna, but I understand all the same. You’re a very strange winged unicorn.” Scrivener replied blandly, and the female laughed despite herself as she swatted at him, making Scrivy smile as he swayed out of the way before glancing towards Discombobulation as the Draconequus studied them thoughtfully. “What?”
“To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the whole world.” Discombobulation answered after a moment, and Scrivener and Luna both looked at him curiously as he sniffed a bit and leaned back, curling the comforter tighter around himself. “Your concept of ‘love’ is strange and confusing. I like it and yet it gives me chills, much like horror movies about evil little girls. It makes me wonder what you would do for one another out of impulse, or wanting to see the other smile… it makes me wonder what you would do to the world, for the sake of one-another. Not that the old world is in much danger, mind you… the milk has long been spilled and the eggs have long since cracked.
“But what about this world? Oh, it’s going to be so full of lies and confusion and mayhem… I think I’ll like it here, since I’m sure that Ginnungagap must be all in a flurry over what’s happened. My fellow friends and friendly fellows probably don’t even know I exist anymore, to be certain: even though we’re chaos, and we all should know so much better than to believe everything we see and read – especially on the internet – all the same we seem to be easily taken in by flashy sights and loud sounds and articles written by important-sounding names that come in the format first name, middle initial, last name.” Discombobulation poked his eagle claw out of the blankets, gesturing at the air as he spoke. “I’m sure my magnificent kamikaze was rewarded with applause, a few crocodile tears, and then some more applause back home. Not that I was never not liked, you must understand, only that they would have liked what happened to me more, and the party and the funeral and the funeral-party that would have followed as they lied about fond memories of me.”
The Draconequus quieted, looking down with a frown as he shifted the blanket a bit around himself… then he picked up his tea and sipped slowly at it again, gazing down into the liquid meditatively. “I wonder what it must have been like for Discord. Coming to Equestria, of his own accord, looking to meddle… but what gears turned in his mind beneath the dazzling lights and spackle of paint and chaos of the jumble? He was a true trickster, after all: designing grand schemes, thinking who knows how deeply, and hiding it with a grinning smile and a delight in anarchic madness. I, at least, like to think I’m a little more straightforward, even if I seem to go straight along the curves and curve along the straights.”
He shook his head with a dry chuckle, then carefully put his mug of tea down and picked up the breadknife, studying this moodily. “It’s the carpenter, not the tools, you know. But then again, a workhorse the size of Scrivener Blooms’ ego helps get the job done much faster than a shovel.”
“Thou truly missed talking to others, didn’t thee?” Luna said dryly, and Discombobulation mumbled a little under his breath before he winced when the knife glowed blue, yanking itself out of his hand before swinging down and swiftly slicing several pieces of bread from the loaf, before swirling over to the jam jar. Scrivy winced a bit as the raspberry substance was splattered everywhere by Luna’s forceful guidance of the knife, before she finally dropped the utensil on the tray and instead lifted one of the pieces of cut bread with telekinesis.
Discombobulation stared… then gargled when the jam-covered bread was shoved almost completely into his mouth, splattering him with a bit of jam as Luna said grumpily: “There, wretched, obnoxious, boorish creature. Eat. ‘Twill help.”
Discombobulation muttered grouchily around the bread in his muzzle, then he slurped it loudly back into his jaws before swallowing it almost whole, wincing and coughing once afterwards… then cursing and rearing back when Luna picked up another piece of bread with telekinesis. “What do I look like to you, a turtle?”
“If thou wert a turtle, Bob, I would not feed thee bread. I would feed thee mulched-up bugs.” Luna retorted, then she thrusted the piece of bread towards his face, and Discombobulation half-fell over attempting to avoid it before the winged unicorn added flatly: “Think that I shall not shove this food into thy nose if I must, Discombobulation. Thou must eat. ‘Tis good for thee.”
“I’m not a pony, I’m a chaos entity of-” Discombobulation began to complain, and then the piece of bread was shoved firmly into his mouth, silencing him as he sat moodily with crumbs spilling from his stuffed jaws as Luna sniffed disdainfully. The Draconequus glowered at her, the piece of bread flopping a bit in his jaws, but the winged unicorn only gave him a half-kind, half-mocking smile as Scrivy rolled his eyes and sipped slowly at his tea.
Discombobulation mumbled to himself and curled the blankets tighter around his body as he chewed slowly on the bread, and Luna grunted and nodded as she returned her gaze towards the fire, saying softly: “Aye, and we are not so different, you and I. Thou art a swirl of manic energy and I am a Valkyrie, reincarnated in this body. I have no more need to eat than thou does, but… it feels good, does it not? And ‘tis a fine enough way to keep up one’s strength. Worry not, Bob, I am not just practicing my motherhood skills upon thee. I am also concerned for thy well-being.”
The Draconequus grumbled a bit as he managed to swallow the piece of bread, before wincing when the last slice lifted into the air… but thankfully, instead it floated over to Scrivener, who took a bite out of it with a smile to Luna before Discombobulation said grouchily: “You’re as beautiful and traitorous as the sea, you know. Likely about as comforting, too… one moment, we’ll all be readying for the final battle, the next we’ll all be covered in crabs and brine.”
“Flirt with me not, Discombobulation. I may take thee up on thy offer and sadly, the end result is that I shall likely wear thy poor, sickly self out and kill thee.” Luna replied kindly, and Discombobulation snorted in entertainment as Luna gave him a sweet smile. “But perhaps after thou feels better we can discuss it again.”
“Luna, please stop trying to cheat on me while I’m right here.” Scrivener said mildly, nudging her gently with his shoulder, and then he winced when the bread floating in the air in front of him shoved itself into his mouth, silencing him as Luna gave him an entertained look.
“Oh, as if I could actually cheat on thee, Scrivener Blooms. Thou feels the same pleasures and pains and everything else I do, and thou seems to appreciate my adventurousness, wherever it tends to lead.” Luna nudged him playfully, then she grinned teasingly over at Discombobulation as he leaned away from them with a wince. “Great cowardly chaos entity. I thought thy kind was all about chasing pleasure.”
“No, we’re all about chaos, and each of us has his or her or it or their own particular preferred poison. As I know I’ve said before, I enjoy confusion most of all… not… touchy-feely nonsense. Especially not with ponies.” Discombobulation looked moodily at them, grimacing a little as he added grouchily: “Besides, what is marriage but the prostitution to one stallion instead of many?”
“Oh, I sense thou art trying to anger me!” Luna, however, only grinned wider in response to this, leaning forwards and half-lidding her eyes. “But this is a topic I am fond of debating. Shall we debate, Discombobulation, upon concubines and prostitutes and sexuality? Thou can play the untouched activist fighting for so-called ‘rights’ I do not desire, and I shall be the mare who revels in her own power, not the power that comes from laws and essays and moralistic viewpoints ironically written mostly by males, and we’ll get in a greater quarrel than the angriest of feminists could with the most grabby and grouchy of chauvinists!”
“Please don’t encourage her. I made the mistake of trying to argue with her once or twice on this topic and it never, ever turns out well.” Scrivener said dryly, and Luna huffed before she punched him lightly in the side, making him wince. “Well it’s all fine and well for you, dear, but you’re a Valkyrie. Most mares can’t shoot lightning, kill dragons with one hoof tied behind their back, and transform into any shape they desire at will.”
“Sleipnir was far more fun than thou. He liked prostitutes.” Luna retorted, and Discombobulation snorted laughter as Scrivener glared sourly at the winged unicorn, who looked absurdly pleased with herself for getting a laugh from the chaos entity. “There, see! Thou should be more like Bob, appreciating the joy and wisdom I have to bring!”
Scrivener only rolled his eyes in amusement… and for the next little while, they sat together in quiet and comfort before Luna and Scrivener excused themselves to go out for a short walk through the night air. Discombobulation had only nodded, then flopped himself down on the bedding, and they had left the Draconequus to doze in front of the fire as they exited through the back door and over the square, furnished patio into their half-completed rear yard.
For a moment, Scrivener’s eyes lingered on the garden, smiling despite himself: a few black roses had bloomed here and there, along with several white moon lilies, thriving despite the weeds and the wildness of the lot… and then Luna nudged him gently, her black pearl swaying quietly around her neck as she said softly: “Flight or hoof, Scrivener Blooms?”
“As if you have to ask.” Scrivy smiled a bit to her, and Luna laughed despite herself before they stepped towards one another and traded a short, gentle kiss for a few moments, eyes closing before they parted and pressed their foreheads together, and thoughts and ideas and images swirled between them before the male began softly: “Luna…”
“It’s alright, Scrivy. ‘Tis only a pang. Besides, this world heals us, does it not? I haven’t heard thee complaining much today, and thou has had a lot to complain about. Problems here are pushed aside and do not vex us… I like that. I wish to keep things that way, and not frustrate us needlessly. I have needs and wants and desires, aye, but I can wait.” Luna smiled a bit, their eyes opening, irises glowing as they studied one another before she said softly: “We have a job to do, and I shan’t forget that, Scrivy. We shall have a foal of our own in time, but we have no reason to rush… we have countless years yet to spend together. I have lived for… who knows how long? Even a decade should be nothing more than a drop in the sea to me.”
“Yes, but you are remarkably impatient.” Scrivener pointed out, and Luna rolled her eyes even as she snorted in amusement and turned to stride the path leading towards the forest, the earth pony smiling as he followed after her. “You know, you can’t treat the kid the same way you treat Bob, too.”
Luna grumbled under her breath at this as she stepped onto a natural, grassy path cutting through the trees, but she was smiling all the same, her mood and spirits feeling lighter and higher than they had in weeks now as she replied mildly: “As I have said before, I do not believe in all these… parenting gimmicks. Our child will grow up fine and strong, Scrivener Blooms… and he will do it without being force-fed disgusting and unnecessary supplements and living inside a ridiculous plastic bubble.”
“You’re referring to the baby-to-be as a he again, Luna. You are aware you can’t just will it into being a colt, especially since your reasoning behind why you want it to be a colt is rather ridiculous?” Scrivener asked mildly, and Luna snorted at this as the male hurried to catch up to her, even as he gazed back and forth with a strange, bubbling warmth in his chest at the sight of the dark forest around them, his natural night vision slowly filtering in as Luna’s ephemeral mane glowed softly and lit the way all the clearer for them.
For a moment, however, she was silent as they only enjoyed the embrace of the night together, slipping smoothly past enormous pines as the soft grasses kissed their hooves, trees rumbling quietly around them as the earth seemed to shift subtly, as if the forest was awakening to peek at who was visiting its depths… before there was a soft gust that rattled the branches of the trees above, like an exhale of welcome and relief. And then Luna smiled a bit as she paused in the middle of the well-walked, winding path through the thick trees, saying kindly: “Now, Scrivener Blooms. Just for what thou has said, I have firmly decided I shall give birth to a colt. I believe that we shall find my womb to be in accordance with this.”
“Horses of Heaven.” Scrivener could only look at her for a moment, and then he shook his head and laughed, asking in an amused voice: “Alright then, Luna, if you’re so sure it’s going to be a colt, what are you going to name him?”
“Thou art the poet, ‘tis thine duty to figure it out.” Luna retorted huffily, turning quickly away and trotting through the forest, and Scrivy smiled as he followed the phantasmal wisp of her glowing mane. “But it must be a mighty name. A name with great meaning to it, that will stay in the memories of those whom hear it for an eternity and a day, a name that is neither too short nor too long and holds a vast depth to it, Scrivener Blooms. Not a name like thine, thy name is boring. Almost as boring as thou art.”
Scrivener snorted in entertainment at this, replying easily: “Something majestic, powerful, and more than a few letters long, Luna?”
Luna ground suddenly to a halt, and Scrivener winced as he ran into her backside, flopping forwards and half-resting over her rear as she shot him a mischievous grin over her shoulder. “Scrivy! We are discussing a serious topic at the moment, I am sure thou can wait five more minutes for that.” She paused, then arched her back imperiously before firmly rocking her hips backwards, knocking Scrivener off to fall back on his haunches with a flick of her rear, and the male glared at her hindquarters as she added mildly: “And my name is plenty majestic, even if it is rather… short. What would thou have named me?”
“Oh, no, Luna works fine, and it’s very pretty.” Scrivener replied blandly, climbing back to his hooves as the winged unicorn started forwards again, and then she halted with a glare over her shoulder as Scrivener added mildly: “It can also be short for ‘lunatic,’ which suits you very well.”
“Cur.” Luna finally pronounced, and then she grumbled as she started forwards again, Scrivener smiling as he followed, then strode up and fell into pace beside her as the trees began to thin out, starlight shining down through the thinning canopy above as she continued moodily: “Besides, even before I earned the title of Lightblade, I was powerful enough to clearly demonstrate I was no force to be trifled with and soon my name became synonymous with ‘respect.’ Also ‘miscreant,’ ‘rogue,’ and for some strange reason, ‘a masculine mare.’ I do not know why they attributed to me the last. Am I not more effeminate than Celestia was, at least?”
“Oh please don’t make me answer that question.” Scrivener mumbled, and Luna huffed and checked him firmly, making him wince and stumble before he nudged her back, adding mildly: “I’m sure you were at least less masculine than Sleipnir.”
“Oh, yes, how comforting a thought that is. I was less-masculine than my titanic older brother who could hoof-wrestle a dragon into submission and more than once put Celestia in a headlock and cheerfully mussed up her entire mane, with her helpless to do a thing about it for all her strength.” Luna replied dryly, and Scrivener couldn’t help but laugh at the images and memories that swirled through his mind at this, of a frustrated and yet resigned Celestia with ethereal mane in a sparking tangle as a burly, laughing equine affectionately and playfully ground his hoof against her scalp. “I shall have thee know I look very pretty in a dress.”
Scrivener looked at her mildly, and Luna snorted at him before she muttered: “Well, I did not say that I enjoyed wearing it, only that I cut an attractive enough figure. In thanks mainly, I do believe, to my fine and supple flank.”
“You’re such a butt-pony.” Scrivener said finally, and Luna gave him a look for a few moments, then she threw her head back and laughed as they strode into a circular field in the middle of the forest, Scrivener smiling at her warmly before he gazed towards two enormous, gnarled trees at the far side of this, reflected in a placid pool of water that stretched out before their hooves, the glassy water parted only by a tall, sweeping quartz monolith that stretched into the center of the crescent-shaped pond from a grassy hill behind it. It like a paradise inside paradise, and one of their favorite spots in the forest… and the two traded warm smiles before Luna slipped forwards and buried her face against the side of his neck with a soft sigh of relief.
The enormous trees creaked quietly, seeming to move despite the lack of wind: one stretched high to the sky above, its branches reaching up around it like countless limbs raised in exaltation despite the bends and twists throughout its tall body. The other, meanwhile, was bent and twisted, bowing forwards and looking more like an immense serpent, its branches lurching outwards in every direction: twin enormous ash trees, with a spiderweb of deep roots that were thought to spill almost throughout the entire forest. Hu and Ỏðr, thought to have sprung from Yggdrasil itself, the eternal protectors of this world’s Everfree Forest.
The two ponies quietly circled around the pool, striding up the hillside and onto the natural, smooth quartz balcony that extended over the still and silent water. They laid down side-by-side on top of the strangely-warm stone beneath the light of the moon and the stars, under the somehow-comforting shadow of the enormous trees, gazing at one another before they looked up towards the constellations overhead, Luna saying quietly: “Some of these stars…so strange, so foreign to me even now, but in a way, I enjoy it. The stars shine during the day and night, but ‘tis only beside the moon that they may be seen… pretty, vainglorious sun makes herself the center of attention all day long, after all, and not a thing may stand beside her in the sky.”
Scrivener gazed affectionately at Luna… and then both ponies looked in surprise to the side at the sound of a rusty chuckle before a figure pushed itself carefully into the field, and Luna’s features puckered as if she’d bitten into a lemon as she said sourly: “Wretched lecher, will thou not give us a moment’s peace?”
Odin replied to this with a sigh as he brushed a few leaves off his fur-lined jacket, replying tiredly: “Brynhild, I remember asking you to contact me once you arrived in Looking Glass World. Do you not remember this as well? If anyone should be angry here it’s me, but I am not because that would not only serve no purpose, we all knew ahead of time you were going to avoid contacting me as long as possible. Illyria sent a messenger to me earlier informing me you had arrived… and I figured that it would be easiest to catch you out here. You always visit this place in this vast forest the night of your return, without fail… and often around the same time, as well.”
“Some traditions should not be forgotten or forgone. Unlike certain others, which should be torn to tatters and used as confetti to celebrate the dawning of a new age of reason and sanity.” Luna retorted moodily, and Odin rubbed slowly at the scarred side of his face as he gave an exasperated sigh. “But yes, Odin, very well, we are here, thou has seen us, now go away.”
“Brynhild, please.” The once-god gave her a frustrated look, and Luna grumbled a bit before she half-turned and buried her face childishly against the side of Scrivener’s neck, the earth pony giving an awkward smile as Odin looked at them for a few moments, then muttered under his breath as he turned. He reached a hand out, stroking slowly over one of the enormous trees, and it seemed to react to his touch, the tree rumbling and shifting as the branches swayed despite the fact the wind had long died down.
Then he turned back around, striding to the edge of the pool and looking pointedly up at the two ponies, and Luna groaned as she felt his eyes on him before she flicked her head firmly, her mane twisting and spiraling outwards to form into a starry, ethereal wall that hid her and Scrivener from view behind a wall of glowing translucence. Odin, however, only crossed his arms calmly, saying dryly: “Even a goblin would see through that ruse, Luna. And goblins are less intelligent than the most idiotic Nibelung.”
“Oh, fine.” Luna grumbled, and she flicked her head again, her mane twisting backwards and settling over her back as she glared down at him, but the once-god only smiled wryly as Scrivener awkwardly half-hid behind the winged unicorn. “Very well, I shall give thee the report thou so craves, annoying old dog. I do not know the count of Pales we saved… but it was many, perhaps even more vast than the first droves we led across the Bifrost, and I do not exaggerate. There was little else of note.”
“So running across Fenrir and bringing the Black Baroque crashing down is not of note?” Odin asked dryly, gesturing towards her with one hand, and Luna huffed even as a faint blush tinged her cheeks. “Furthermore, I believe you found your old spear. To a Valkyrie like yourself, that must have felt like finding your heart after years of living without it.”
“I understand not why thou asks for a report when thou clearly knows the answers already.” Luna grumbled, and then she raised her head a bit, adding distastefully: “Aye, we dropped the Black Baroque on Fenrir’s wretched head, but the Black Wolves shattered the moon and were digging their Alpha out of the wreckage when we left. I know not what his state is… but at least one of the other Black Wolves seemed to be injured, perhaps even crippled. I only hope fortune favors us and its wound does not heal.”
Odin nodded slowly, rubbing at the underside of his beak as the falcon-headed male looked moodily down. “It’s difficult to say. Skoll, Hati, Garm and Fenrir… they are forces of desolation and destruction. The fact they cowered under the eclipse was unexpected and I do not know why they did… perhaps it was Valthrudnir’s tampering. Perhaps he had some ultimate goal for these creatures… they do not exist in the other layers of reality, after all, and I am unsure of who or what designed them. I do not believe it was even Valthrudnir… you have seen his machinations, his monstrosities. The Tyrant Wyrms and the Black Wolves seem to share much in common, but the Black Wolves seem only animals, driven by warped instinct to destroy… Valthrudnir’s pets are intelligent, machine-like, and incredibly cruel.”
He halted, looking slowly from Luna to Scrivener Blooms, and his eye seemed to focus in on the earth pony as he said in a soft, pointed voice: “After all, there is no evil in an animal hunting the most harmless of prey for food… but can willingly, knowingly inflicting pain upon another for the sake of pleasure or sport ever be justified?”
A shiver rolled along the earth pony’s spine, and then Luna leaned forwards, cutting off the eye contact as she said sharply: “Perhaps there is no wrong in taking pleasure in pummeling another when they continuously beg for it, lecher.”
Odin winced a bit even as he studied the sudden anger of the winged unicorn, and then he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, saying quietly: “It is only an old man’s rambles, Brynhild, I do not mean to offend. But let me ask… is there anything else… anything at all… you have to tell me?”
“No.” Luna said curtly, despite the way her muzzle wrinkled up, and Scrivener grimaced a bit at what an awful liar the winged unicorn could be… and inside him, he wondered silently if this was the right course of action. Then Luna frowned as she looked over her shoulder at him, eyes imploring even as Odin studied them silently, before he sighed a bit and nodded at the look she gave him, trusting her decision, knowing that she would never willingly put him in harm’s way. If she felt they could handle Valthrudnir without Odin’s help… if she was still worried to a point that telling Odin would only result in more trouble… he would gladly follow in her lead.
They both looked towards the old once-god, and he gazed back from one to the other… then only shook his head slowly, crossing his arms and looking moodily down into the pool. “Very well. I am not your enemy though, Brynhild… let me make that perfectly clear. I know that in the past I destroyed the Aesir and did many things that have forever scarred my honor, and I know that you have much reason to distrust me. But Brynhild… you and Thor are really all I have left. I cannot face Freya’s spirit with the shame I hold in my heart and the righteousness in her eyes, and all the other Aesir are gone, torn apart by Valthrudnir’s machinations and scheming and my own damned failings.”
He grimaced and shook his head, then finally looked up and nodded once, saying quietly: “But you have done well, Brynhild. I do not… entirely approve of the fact you carried a half-demon, Draconequus, and of all the things in these many layers of reality, a cursed undead skeleton. A Velite or some nonsense, was that the name for it?”
“Aye, ‘tis. But be kind to her. And be kind as well to the zebra folk… they have suffered as much as the ponies, and are no different. Four hooves, a mind and a heart and a soul, and a will to survive that matches that of any other living creature.” Luna paused reflectively, then added grouchily: “But if they all speak in rhyme such as Zecora does I may set the lot of them on fire, and drag them back across the Bifrost. ‘Twould be too much of an insult on top of the indignity that such creatures outwitted and outmatched me.”
Odin looked curiously up at the winged unicorn at this, tilting his head slightly. “So you did not bring those specters into this world by choice? I thought they were the results of another of your… odd moments of mercy, Brynhild.”
“Will thou cease calling me that? My name is Luna.” the winged unicorn said waspishly, and Scrivener smiled a bit despite himself as he rubbed a hoof slowly along her spine as Odin only looked at her patiently. “But aye, they slipped across the bridge after I had led the Pales through, but fortunately were not hostile. Only crafty and irksome, but… they seek to save their people. I cannot deny them that. I only wish I could save more souls…”
She quieted, looking down, and Odin smiled a bit as he spread his arms, saying softly: “As I learned myself too late, you cannot save everyone, and sometimes letting go… letting things pass on, letting the torch be handed down, or watching even those close to you fade away… it’s the better choice, in the long run. I was God of Wisdom, but I do not claim to know all the intricate secrets of this universe… I came into existence long after its creation, after all. I multiplied these layers, but I did not create the world… I merely planted the first seeds across Midgard and watched what grew, and tended to it as I could.”
He paused, then rubbed at the back of his head slowly as Luna looked at him quietly, seeming to soften a little as he gazed up at her with his single eye and smiled a little. “Listen to me, rambling again. An old, doddering relic, trying to remember his glory days, but they’re so far gone in the past the memories have become all too faded… or perhaps all too clear.”
“Yes, yes, old lecher, thou speaks of it often. Will thou not go away now, and return to thy rocking chair in Asgard or wherever it is thou finds thy scrawny self at home? “Luna asked irritably, and Odin grumbled a little under his breath as he looked at her irritably, and the winged unicorn gave a mutter of her own before she said grudgingly: “We shall be here at least for the week, Odin, we have time to… arrange a meeting later. Thou seems to little mind showing up as thou pleases at the door of mine home, after all.”
“One more question then, Brynhild, and I shall go.” Odin replied calmly, raising his hands, and Luna rolled her eyes… but then sighed and slumped, nodding a little as she looked moodily down towards the once-god. “On the subject of the Pales, and more specifically, bringing the Pales back their bodies… have you settled upon a course of action?”
Now Luna looked more hesitant than frustrated, leaning back a bit and exchanging a look with Scrivener Blooms as the male shrugged, their eyes meeting, thoughts and snips of discussion and other memories flowing back and forth before the winged unicorn sighed and looked back towards the falcon-headed once-god almost apprehensively. “Nay, we… we have not. I wish to consult with Greece upon this subject, or perhaps Roma. It… it is difficult, Odin. There is so much to consider… so much to measure, to calculate, to design with infernal preciseness, like we are doing complex science instead of utilizing instinctive powers that surge upwards from within.”
“True magic is a mix of both, Luna. Powered by the self, theorized by the mind and soul, but ultimately at its peak only when combined with strategy and intellect.” Odin replied quietly, gesturing towards them with a faint smile. “That’s why Freya was always so powerful. For all her ruthless passion, it was her sharp mind that made her the deadliest of opponents.”
“Oh, yes, Celestia’s always the better.” Luna grumbled under her breath, and then she sighed a little and shook her head quickly. “But if thou desires a guess all the same, I do not think one of Valthrudnir’s cards alone will do the trick. I hope it shall require only two, and not all three… for the Jötnar was incredibly powerful, whether or not he was also a… what is the word, Scrivener Blooms?”
“A douchebag.” Scrivener said mildly, and Luna nodded agreeably as Odin looked at the two with wry entertainment in his eyes. The earth pony hesitated for a moment, and then he glanced towards Odin, asking quietly: “Forgive me if I’m out of line, but… when you battled Valthrudnir…”
“A game of wits and wisdom, yes. Valthrudnir was always fond of his sick games.” Odin rubbed at the underside of his beak, looking down moodily into the reflective pool… yet it seemed to be not with anger, but with self-loathing, as he said quietly: “I should have been more careful, but I was arrogant. After all, I had outmatched even Ymir, hadn’t I? And this foolish Frost Giant wanted to play a game of wits with all our powers on the line. I was greedy… and I was prideful. And for the first few rounds, I was beating him, winning without any difficulty. It should have been obvious it was a trick but Valthrudnir… I never realized that he was not like the other Jötnar until too late. Despite the way he talked, the way he dressed, the way he acted, I thought he was just… a monkey in a suit, a barbarian only pretending to be civilized. No… no, I think we both know he really was the last, but all the same, that does not detract from his sharp and terrible intellect.
“Then everything turned. I do not know if he rigged his magic tokens somehow, but I fear that all he did was ensure the easy categories would come first… and then the questions became more pointed, sharper, and so much more dangerous. And I should have known from the start that it was a fool’s gambit to play against him: he was the designer of this game, after all, he was the one who wrote the questions, but I did not think he would know every answer. And he was cruel…” Odin closed his eye, turning his head away slightly as he murmured: “He could have killed me with ease, when the game was said and done. I was at his mercy, all my strength sapped. Oh, believe me, back then my first instinct when things began to go wrong was to grab my axe to cut the Jötnar’s grinning head off, but he couldn’t be intimidated. Before the duel, he honor-bound us to the game, and too late I saw why. If I refused to play his game, it would be surrendering, and too late I realized that surrendering in defeat, or defeated through his wits, it would have the same result: I would be drained and helpless. He had me at his mercy, and I knew the moment I lunged for him, he would be able to declare his victory, and I… I was not brave enough to risk it. If only I had taken the chance… to rend axe into his skull, to plunge spear through his chest, to rip sword through his neck, to have throttled him with bare hands alone. Everything could have turned out differently…”
Odin fell silent, and then he chuckled wryly, looking tiredly up. “But maybe not. Here I stand now, thinking that in the past an act of dishonor would have cleansed the future. It makes no sense, does it? But I have talked long enough now. You see the results of the battle before you, Scrivener Blooms and Brynhild. We have all tasted the results of Valthrudnir’s scheming. And I am terrified that even now, his machinations still move. Perhaps I am overestimating what he was capable of out of… out of an old man’s fear, but… I have uneasy feelings some nights…”
He fell quiet again as Scrivener Blooms and Luna traded a worried look, and then the once-god cleared his throat and slipped his hands in his pockets, turning around to gaze over the two ash trees: dissimilar twins, one standing as a pillar towards the sky, the other a great and gnarled snake. “Do not hesitate to ask for my help if you need it, either of you. Brynhild… you and Thor are really all that I have left anymore. And despite Thor… or as you prefer, your brother, Sleipnir… living in Valhalla… I do not see him as often as I like, with how busy everything has kept me as of late. You have my promise that if I can help you… I will.”
“I appreciate this, Odin, even coming from thee.” Luna said quietly, and Odin gave a small smile over his shoulder before the once-god simply shrugged a bit, then strode without another word towards the woods. As he passed the ash trees, one of his hands reached out and up, stroking over the bark absently as he walked by… and the gnarled tree creaked as it visibly swayed in response, twisting as if trying to follow the old once-god as Luna and Scrivener watched him vanish into the forest.
For a little while, the two ponies were quiet… and then Scrivener closed his eyes and dropped his face against the side of Luna’s neck, and she wrapped a foreleg around him, squeezing him quietly closer to her body as they curled together, comforting one another in the silence of the beautiful night, in a beautiful world, where all the same it seemed like their troubles were determined to pursue them.