Special Agent Sweetie Drops,
I understand, agent.
I'll back off now.
You don't need to worry about S.M.I.L.E.'s interest in your son.
Fare thee well.
-S.N.
A part of Bon Bon was intensely satisfied by reading the final response. She'd shown it to her wife, and they'd both been relieved at what it said.
That part was very small.
The majority of the mare's mind was consumed in the most potent worry she had felt in years. She paced the floor of her bedroom, her thoughts deep in an uncontrollable spiral of paranoia as she continued to stress over the contents of the letter.
It can't be this easy. She just backs off? After, what, two replies? I'm influential in S.M.I.L.E., but not by that much! Why the sudden respect? What is she planning?
One thing was certain: This whole situation was not what it seemed to be. After coming on so hard in her initial address, it was simply too strange for S.N. to backpedal so readily. Plain logic stated it thus, but what contributed also to this knowledge was a strong, prevailing sense of grim dread.
Bon Bon's hairs stood on end, her teeth were chattering wildly and her blue-green eyes frantically roved the room in search of answers.
This went on for several minutes, but finally the mare was able to calm herself, engaging the exercises she knew so well in attempts to curb her panic. Five pillows on the mattress. Count 'em up, Bonnie. One, two, three, four, five. Uno, dos, tres, quattro, cinco. Swiftly, she latched her attention to yet another group of objects, simultaneously beginning breathing rhythms to further calm herself. Sevens nails on the door's hinges. Four arms on the ceiling fan. Eight individual panes on the window. This particular exercise was not an altogether common one, but Bon Bon had discovered long ago that it clicked well with her, personally.
She refrained from taking another concerned glance at the letter sitting on her bed, having already thoroughly memorized its contents by this point. Sighing heavily as the embers of anxiety remained stubbornly in her conscious, the earth pony sat, attempting to ground herself by running through the present situation.
Lyly's downstairs on the couch. She's halfway through her two-hour practice session and will sweep the kitchen once she's finished. I just came up here to fold laundry, but Derpy stopped by to give me this letter through the window and I've been here ever since.
A faint sense of gratitude towards the mailmare cut through Bon Bon's pragmatism, and she stopped to smile to herself.
It was pretty thoughtful of her to avoid using the front door this time. She must have been waiting for a while before I finally appeared in the room.
The sensation was fleeting, however, and the mare's mind soon returned to more pressing matters.
Last I checked, Knight was in his room. He's probably a nervous wreck right now, but there's not much I can do about that. Unless...
Slowly and with great trepidation, Bon Bon turned towards the open doorway to gaze at the closed door at the other end of the hall. This section of their house formed a 'T' junction, with the two bedrooms' entrances facing each other. Ideally, their charge would not have to sleep so close to where they did, but it had been deemed more beneficial to give him a proper room rather than a more well-placed closet under, say, the staircase.
The earth pony plodded across the hallway, her ears kept in a constant swivel as she drew closer to the door. She barely noticed her hoof nearing the doorknob, but recoiled when the harsh words of Starlight Glimmer from so many days ago reentered her mind:
"Without explicit permission from him, you are never to go into Knight's room. He is to feel as safe in there as can be expected, and if is taken by surprise by either of you two in there, ever, then that will be ruined."
Bon Bon grimaced, lowering both her hoof and her head in deep thought. She had inquired whether or not they could set up any kind of surveillance or even just a hole to peek through. The idea that anything could happen within Knight's room, that he could accidentally run into a wall or otherwise hurt himself and they'd be none the wiser, greatly troubled her. She maintained to this day that such an occurrence was a valid concern, considering the colt's mental stability and whatnot.
Starlight had shut her down, brutally and without mercy. The therapist had stated with intense confidence that any method of watching Knight would inevitably be discovered by him, and sooner rather than later. She'd gone on to say that he was both incredibly resourceful and ridiculously paranoid, such that when (not 'if') he found out, any possible chance of gaining his trust would be thrown out the window.
Bon Bon found she had to agree with the sentiment, but that still left her where she was: Standing uneasily outside his door, unsure of what action to take__
And still feeling that inexplicable, powerful sense of awful dread.
She resumed her pacing in the hallway, effectively frozen with indecision, simply wanting to check up on her charge and see if he was okay. The letter had rattled her far more than she wanted to admit at the moment, with practically every fiber of her being screaming that something was wrong. The movement lasted for a few minutes before she stopped abruptly, a sudden thought entering her mind that utterly captured her attention.
Why's it so...quiet?
When Knight had first awoken in their home, they had been able to hear his gasping and noises in general from all the way at the bottom of the stairs. As a matter of fact, the building had fairly excellent acoustics, which was one of its greatest upsides as a home for the colt; he was able to pinpoint their locations at any given time just from how well sound travelled, eliminating any stress that might arise from not knowing where they were. Even now, Bon Bon could hear her wife's beautiful practicing as if she were merely in the next room over instead of a wholly different section.
So why was Lyra's lyre the only sound Bon Bon could detect?
She pressed the side of her head against the grainy wooden door, straining her ears for gasping, sobbing, or shuffling of any kind.
Nothing. Dead silence.
And that was enough for Bon Bon.
The hinges didn't so much as creak when she inched the door open, further increasing her sense of unease. Slowly, carefully, discreetly, she poked her muzzle through the crack and moved the wood until she could take a glance inside. Just one peek. To see if he's okay. He won't even notice!
What she saw made her blood run cold.
Initially, her gaze was locked on Knight; his shivering, cowering form with one foreleg raised and his horn aglow with a lively grey light.
Immediately, though, it flitted to the other pony in the room: A strange purple unicorn mare wearing an elegant dress and a mad, gleeful grin.
Any pretense of stealth was thrown away, along with the door, which banged silently against the wall as Bon Bon rushed into the bedroom. The beginning of a shocked, angry scream crept to her mouth, but, using all her prodigious self-control, she managed to transform it into an amiable question just in time.
"What's going on here?"
Knight immediately tensed even further and turned to stare at her from his spot against the left wall. The purple unicorn, though, didn't so much as blink, her gaze not drifting from a grey sphere of what seemed to be__
Is that...Thaunon?
Her horn was alight as well, and she seemed to be concentrating very hard on the floating orb, around which Bon Bon thought she saw the slightest hint of a bluish magical aura. The color matched the one around her horn, leading the earth pony to a heavily startling hypothesis. She's...running scans of some sort. But why? And how?
None of that mattered: Her charge was in danger, and she needed to act.
"I do believe I asked you a question." Bon Bon did her absolute best to keep the strain out of her voice, speaking with a friendly tone and gritting her teeth imperceptibly all the while. I can't show anger. That'll just escalate the situation. The other mare finally shifted her attention from the ball, greeting Bon Bon with an expression of surprise and mild disdain.
"Oh, bother. I knew that silence spell wouldn't solve everything, but I wasn't expecting to be discovered so soon! You really are a marvel, aren't you, Special Agent Sweetie Drops?" The earth pony jolted at the recognition, but refrained from otherwise expressing her shock. She took a few more steps into the room, keeping a careful watch of Knight through her peripheral vision as she finished her assessment of the situation. A S.M.I.L.E.-related meeting, then, or something like it. They must have decided to scout him without consent. It's unlikely that Knight is in any physical danger, so I shouldn't need to battle it out. I'll talk her down and get her to leave. I need to be sure he doesn't get any more rattled than he already is. Staying calm is the best way to do that.
A great plan and an excellent course of action. If only her instinctive, protective rage would just calm down long enough for her to follow it!
Bon Bon wanted to snort steam. She wanted to charge this repulsive, snobbish dirtbag of a mare and beat her to a pulp. She wanted to show her just what happened when one messed around with forces they shouldn't, and the tormented expression on Knight's face was only serving to strengthen that desire.
Some tiny, imperceptible facial twitching was all that became of the many violent thoughts coursing through the earth pony's mind, and it did nothing to disturb the perfectly cordial smile she so diligently maintained. Relative silence dominated the room as Bon Bon tried desperately to keep from losing her composure, with the unicorn mare seeming content to simply stand there and watch, still running whatever scans she was doing.
It was to Bon Bon's complete surprise that it was Knight who took the initiative; his scared, tremulous stare moved to the open doorway as he took tentative steps toward it. He's trying to get out, then. Escape the situation. Understandable. Perhaps even smart: It'd sure be easier to deal with this mare if I was alone.
The cream-coated mare took a few stealthy steps forward and to the right, giving Knight a more clear path out of danger. The colt's speed increased upon his noticing her movements, and all too soon he was bolting for the door behind her, though inexplicably he paused just as he passed her body__
Bon Bon couldn't stop herself from tensing up in abject surprise when she felt a tight grip encircle her hindleg, nor could she stop a quick glance backwards. There he was, ducking half under her form while his forelegs held on for dear life. Knight even buried his muzzle in her hock, trembling with more vigor than a jackhammer as he cowered beneath her, hugging her leg for all he was worth. Unbidden, a memory resurfaced in her mind of a time mere minutes before Discord's attack on Ponyville. He'd held onto Fluttershy in a similar way back then; as though she was his sole protection, an island in a sea of hungry sharks and treacherous storms.
Once the memory faded away, Bon Bon's mind was left utterly blank. She stared dumbly at the cowering colt, simply unable to process the scene before her eyes. Unconsciously and without realizing it in any capacity, she shifted into a more protective stance, turning her body and widening the distance between her hooves to cover more of the foal from potential danger. She even draped her curly tail across his back, but he didn't offer any visible response to her actions.
"Aww, well isn't that sweet?"
And suddenly the defensive anger was back with a raging vengeance. Bon Bon bowed her front legs slightly in a show of mild possessiveness, unable to refrain from giving in to her animalistic instincts by just the slightest margin as she returned her full attention to the unwelcome intruder. Said unicorn was grinning widely in what seemed to be a mostly genuine expression and had taken a few steps closer, away from the sphere of Thaunon. The aura that had been around that orb was gone, now, showing that the purple mare had likely achieved what she'd come here to do. Now just to find out what that is.
"Who are you?" Bon Bon would normally have preferred to ask a more productive question, such as 'what were you doing just now' or 'why are you in my house'. Under normal circumstances, she would be far more effective and efficient with her interrogation, usually able to get the desired information within a minute or so.
These were not normal circumstances. The earth pony's friendly facade was splitting apart at the seams, and she was becoming less and less certain she'd be able to control herself for much longer.
The pent-up frustration of not being able to do more to help Knight, the leftover regret from not saving him in time, the indignation and rage of discovering an intruder in her house, terrorizing the colt she'd sworn to protect, all of it combined to make a swirling cloud of ire and guilt, with this unicorn mare at the very center.
Bon Bon knew what to do. She'd learned years ago the strategies for controlling her temper and had been in far more stressful situations than this. She only had to speak with this nonaggressive individual while remaining calm, for Celestia's sake! It wasn't like she needed to tame a bugbear or defuse a bomb!
So why was she getting so angry?
Knight hiccupped and whimpered from underneath her, and his grip grew even tighter around her hindleg, if that was possible. It was a distant worry that she'd permanently lose all feeling in that leg if this went on much longer, but Bon Bon brushed that thought aside, having much more pressing matters to be concerned about.
"Why, it's me, agent! The mysterious S.N.! How lucky you are to get to meet me in person."
Bon Bon blinked, decidedly unimpressed with the information. Perhaps a month or even a few weeks ago she'd have been jumping for joy, but this mare had lost so much of her respect and admiration at this point that she was relatively unaffected.
"My full name is Stormy Night, just so you know. I'm actually Darkest's biological mother! But you don't need to worry, I won't try to 'steal your thunder', as it were."
That got a rise out of the earth pony: A cold, stony one, with her tilting her head down to complete the dour look as she spoke in a dark tone.
"You're going to prison. You know that, right? The Crown won't tolerate this. I hope whatever you came here to do is worth a lifetime in Tartarus." But Stormy only giggled airily, smiling with a perfectly relaxed expression as she returned Bon Bon's intense gaze. The unicorn opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Lyra rushing into the room, concernedly staring into her wife's eyes.
Silence dominated. No words were spoken, but an intricate conversation passed between the two nonetheless.
Carefully, slowly, deliberately, Lyra lowered herself to Knight's level and gently cleared her throat to get his attention, with Bon Bon accordingly lifting her tail out of the way. The minty unicorn spoke in a perfectly enunciated voice, ensuring every syllable was understood perfectly.
"Hello, Knight. Would you like to come downstairs with me? We have some really tasty chocolate for you."
Hollowly, Bon Bon watched as their charge nodded with no small amount of hesitation, letting blood return to her leg as he peeled himself away from her to follow after her wife. Lyra gave one glance back before shutting the door, with the two exchanging affirmative, understanding nods.
With the entrance closed and the silence spell still in place, Bon Bon was free to express herself however she wished, safe in the knowledge that nopony else in the house could hear either of them.
Filled to bursting with the righteous fury of a scorned mother, Bon Bon Heartstrings turned to stare Stormy Night in the face, the unicorn's visage suddenly blanching as she beheld the raw thirst for violence before her.
"Hey, Sweetie Drops! We're, uh, we're good, right?" But the ex-agent scowled and took one threatening step closer, the floorboards nearly splintering then and there from the power flooding her veins.
"For the last time, S.N.: My name. Is. Bon Bon. Heartstrings.
And you're about to learn what a real mother does for her child."
Lyra had to admit: She was pretty surprised that Knight agreed to come with her, or even so much as understood her invitation in the first place. It was a testament to how much progress they'd made that he was following behind her, looking for all the world like a lost puppy searching for home.
They reached the kitchen without incident and the mare dutifully retrieved the box of fine chocolates stored in a cupboard. One of the perks of living with a candymaker was that sweets were never in short supply, even if the store itself was closed. Bon Bon hadn't stopped making candy; she couldn't do so any more than Lyra could cease playing her music. Both art forms were crucial, central parts of the respective mares' identities, so to stop doing them in any capacity would be to succumb to one of the worst kinds of death.
All that was besides the point, though. Knight was munching on the candies and Lyra had taken to lying on the floor, doing her absolute best to appear as nonthreatening as possible while she observed him. The colt didn't seem to object to her watch, indeed appearing very invested in the consumption of the treats, so she was free to look a bit deeper.
Lyra had always been good at reading ponies. All the many miniscule movements in ponies' faces were as visible as anything to her. As a filly, she had been alienated from her peers due in large part to how accurately she could gauge their emotions. Cries of "witch!" and "mind-reader!" still plagued her to this day, but she'd learned to move past all of that some time ago.
The gift was linked to her special talent: Music was emotion, and magic was music, and ponies were magic, and Lyra could see all four as a result. The inexplicable senses she gained were strongest when she played, but they were always present regardless. Always there, waiting to be scanned, waiting to be expressed through song. Always inspiring her every move and thought. The unicorn could see music, could see magic, could see ponies for what they were, see their true hearts, like the many strings in a symphony.
Lyra Heartstrings looked at Knight, truly looked, and what she saw was greatly troubling.
Outwardly, he was focused on the chocolate. Any normal pony would see an innocent foal enjoying their well-earned snack and nothing more. If one went a little deeper, one could detect his constant, wary watch of his surroundings. The way his ears subtly flicked in every direction, how his eyes darted from one spot to another, and how his body was held tense in preparation for something.
If one could see yet farther, they'd perhaps get a look at his thought process. The truly perceptive could catch a glimpse of how paranoid he truly was, how shaken he'd become from the ordeal, and how badly he needed comfort.
Lyra saw even deeper than that. She looked into the very depths of her charge's mind, and she did not like what was there:
She identified exactly five voices, each clamoring for attention in its own way and each with its own desires. She wasn't able to hear them without actually magically delving into his mind, (something that was impossible now, though she wouldn't want to in the first place) but, using her special talent and all her training with reading ponies, she could get a glimpse.
One voice was panicking, practically running about and screaming its head off for how intense it was. That voice was the loudest by far, and seemed to capture the colt's attention the easiest, but what mind it did possess was fleeting at best. It was also barely comprehensible and mainly rooted in emotion, running through a set group of words with next to no deviations.
Another voice was central. It spoke in eloquent tones and made fun of the others, belittling them as well as it could with its extensive vocabulary. This voice didn't seem to have any goals other than to put down the others, acting so much better than them yet not contributing anything to the situation.
The third one Lyra easily recognized as Knight: He was loud and powerful, rooted deeply in instinct and possessed the most control over bodily function by far. He was also reactive by nature, preferring to watch and wait for outside stimulus rather than take initiative. This was the voice she had seen earlier, on the few times she could truly observe the colt. Knight was always present, even while Darkest was in control, always ready to take over should significant danger arrive.
Fourthly was a voice the mare was slightly surprised to find. Knight had always struck her as the more immature of the two, but this one was by far the most childish. It spoke mainly in single words and constantly radiated this sense of youth, to such a degree that she was nearly certain it was rooted in memory. What was more, this voice seemed somewhat linked to the first, though in what exact ways even Lyra couldn't begin to guess.
Finally, there were the faintest flickering echoes of Darkest's speech, as though coming from beyond the grave. Whatever that Colza mare had done, it had sent the colt's conscious decision-making so far back into his psyche that Darkest was a mere shadow. A footnote in the midst of a larger battle. Lyra doubted the rest of the colt could even realize he was still there, likely believing him to be gone forever.
With a jolt, the unicorn realized she had been staring far too long, incidentally entering one of her trances. In a mildly shameful manner, Lyra returned her lyre to its case, having subconsciously levitated it over to cast spells through.
Not spells on Knight, of course, but on herself: To better enhance her perception and allow her to pick up on the tiniest details. She had even simultaneously begun plucking a few of its strings to better focus her mind, which was a strategy almost as effective as the spellwork.
Right, then! Time to name the voices, so I can refer to them easier. Let's see...
'Red' would be the first one's name, because something about it gave off echoes of that color. Red was a hue of passion, of intensity and domination, which fit that voice to a T.
'Posh' would be the second, because just like a prissy noble it said too much yet communicated very little. Lyra had the distinct feeling that Posh was a voice that had origins deeply tied to Broken Barrier's conditioning, which hardly left her any more inclined to like it.
Knight, of course, was the third. His name fit in many ways, not least of which because he was the more protective of the two (or five, now). It was a well documented fact at this point that Knight took over in times of crisis, whether real or imagined, to heighten feelings of self-preservation and to defend himself from danger.
'Button' would be the fourth. Lyra couldn't pinpoint exactly why she named it that, but she liked the idea far too much to let it go. Besides, she didn't have enough information on Button to get a proper read on its traits, so that name would have to suffice.
And it was cute. Cute as a button.
It was at that exact point in time that Lyra realized she had spent the last several minutes of her life staring uncomfortably into her charge's face and naming aspects of his personality. Knight had long ago dropped any pretense of enjoying his chocolate, preferring instead to return her gaze with a conflicted one of his own. The mare smiled uneasily, to which he gave no reaction, still looking at her and still utterly unsure of what action to take.
Red's just mindlessly screaming, Knight wants to stand there and do nothing, Posh is being a jerk...
It was Button's speech that gave her pause. It was so distinct, so insistent that Lyra felt she could almost parse exactly what it was saying:
HUGS!
HUGS! NOW!
The turmoil within Knight's mind was too great, however, so the colt was left standing there, the absolute picture of indecision.
Abruptly, Lyra startled, finally realizing that she needed to take the initiative.
Well, let's see. I know what might calm him down, if he'd be open to it...
Lyra lit her horn in a lovely yellow light, turning her head to focus on the downstairs bathroom door as she began levitating her tools of choice. From the corner of her eye, she managed to spot Knight lift a confused eyebrow, but to her immense relief he did not scream or bolt away like she'd been half-expecting. Shortly, he also turned to observe the objects float across the room, eventually coasting to a hover between the unicorns.
Two hairbrushes were held in Lyra's golden aura. Well, more specifically they were a brush for a pony's mane/tail and one for their coat. The minty mare maintained to this day that there was a distinct difference between the two and it was not just a marketing excuse like Bon Bon said, but that was neither here nor there.
The brushes stayed there for a solid thirty or so seconds until Knight's breathing returned to its previous tempo and his pupils regained their normal size. Lyra had expected his paranoia to make a raging return, and so accordingly waited patiently for him to sufficiently stabilize before continuing in her mission.
Carefully, achingly slowly, the manebrush crept forward, with Knight's eyes staying locked onto its unassuming form the whole way. Red was screeching itself hoarse, while Posh was cynically stating the brush to be a trap, because 'of course it was'. Lyra was relieved Knight chose not to listen to either of them, and instead seemed to be paying more and more attention to Button, who was practically begging for a brushing session.
Eventually, the tool found itself just in front of the foal's face, hanging bristles-up while waiting for his inspection. Knight graced the instrument with a tentative sniff, likely searching for some kind of sedative or needle placed within. Lyra supposed that hiding such a thing in a hairbrush would be rather easy, but the colt would be disappointed this time around, because the only foreign object among the bristles was her own bright teal hairs.
Finally, once Knight seemed satisfied, the brush was lifted and rotated, poised such that it was ready for a stroke down his messy mane. He stared at it expectantly, nearly flinching away with nerves, but it did not move an inch thereafter.
Through all of this, Lyra was still in her spot laid down on the kitchen's tile, watching the proceedings calmly and patiently.
Bon Bon sometimes said that her patience was scary. That it befit a predator more than a sweet musician such as her. Lyra could sit and wait for hours without complaint, given the chance and enough motivation. When she had still been obsessed with humans, (not the most proud time of her life, she all-too-readily admitted) she'd camp out at the library for days at a time, waiting for the librarian to tell her the checked-out books she so desired had been returned.
Compared to that, this was nothing.
Eventually, Knight took a hesitant step forward, placing the top of his head against the brush, just behind his horn. He tensed suddenly and his eyes screwed shut in preparation, likely because he was expecting the brush to start moving or something silly like that.
He cracked one eye open to take a glance up, then the other, then he sat down with a slight huff, beginning to look more puzzled than afraid.
Posh was still being a brat, but Red had calmed down enough for Button to really shine through, and it seemed all too eager for physical attention of this kind:
BRUSH! BRUSH! I LIKE IT!
Finally, Knight gave in and ran the length of his body across the bristles in a distinctly feline manner, staring at Lyra expectantly and even nodding his head to give permission. The elder unicorn allowed herself a small smile as her magic set to work, guiding the brush in gentle, light strokes down the length of his mane.
She could almost swear she heard him purring, but that was probably just her imagination.
All too quickly, though, the anxiety returned to his visage, and Lyra knew it was time for phase two. She stood, not ceasing her telekinetic ministrations as she made her snail-paced way over to his side. Knight watched her, warily, and she even caught his hind leg raising in preparation, but she pushed through, regardless. I can't give up now. Not when I'm so close. Not when I can see that he needs me.
She stopped and sat next to him, letting him take full stock of the genuineness of her smile. Knight frowned uneasily and Red was beginning to act up again, but he hadn't run away and he was plainly still shaken up from whatever had happened upstairs. Deliberately ensuring she was watched the whole time, Lyra lifted a forehoof and moved it to his still-shivering shoulder, still not stopping her strokes with the brush. Knight tensed in anticipation, his breathing increasing in pace and weight as he prepared for what he thought was inevitable.
The mare's hoof came to a stop a good three inches away from his shoulder and she paused there, content to wait for his approval.
Knight's gaze flickered between her face, her hoof, the brush, and back several times while he tried to process the information. His frantic breathing eventually slowed once more, and after staring at her foreleg for a few more minutes, he slowly eased into contact with it.
At first, he immediately jolted away at the touch, and did so the next few times as well. Finally, though, he settled in and closed his eyes, marking phase two a success. Knight's skin was cold and clammy to the touch, his coat thin despite their attempts to feed him a balanced diet. That explains the shivering. Lyra ran the length of her foreleg across his back and withers, grabbing the manebrush in her hoof to continue the ministrations manually.
The colt sighed in what she thought was gratitude, and didn't object when she moved behind him to free up her other foreleg, which dutifully grabbed the second brush and set to work. From this new position she couldn't look into his eyes, but the mare figured she was too far in now to back out anyway.
Gradually, the smaller unicorn relaxed, and Lyra moved from a brushing session to more of a massage, kneading the knots and soothing the sore spots she came across, all the while making absolute certain to be gentle.
Lyra's eyes bulged in surprise when, abruptly, Knight thrust himself backwards into her barrel, turning halfway to wrap a foreleg around it while burying his muzzle in her shoulder. The two made eye contact once again as the mare hesitantly wrapped her front legs around his body, rocking back onto her haunches in a position that would be uncomfortable for any other pony.
She saw it in his eyes: There was no complete, unconditional trust like there'd been before the foalnapping. He was still wary, still scared and in some degree still expecting her to strike him out of the blue. This was more testing the waters, a sort of provisional license to see if he could count on her in the future. Lyra did her best to communicate reassurance to him, and from what she saw he seemed to appreciate it.
"Who are you?"
The literal meaning of those words was not what he meant, but looking into his eyes, Lyra could parse that information out for herself. Knight wanted to know what to call her, what name to put to this feeling he was experiencing. Above all, Button wanted to know what exactly it'd taken such an extreme liking to.
"I'm your mother, Knight. Well, one of them. You can call me 'mommy', if you like." Lyra saw it immediately: The light turning on in his eyes and the glee starting to flicker to life in his gaze. She smiled warmly as she saw Button cry out in whooping cheers.
MOM! MOMMY! YAY!
Knight nodded at this and lowered his face against her chest until it was out of sight, hidden by her prodigious floof. Lyra rested her head on top of his in response, mindful of the horn as she began gently rocking back and forth.
Minutes later, Bon Bon entered the kitchen only to be greeted by the soft sounds of snoring and a very triumphant grin, with the minty mare holding a hoof to her upturned lips to quiet her down.
"So, did you deal with the intruder?" She whispered, her smile taking on a sly quality as her wife stared blankly at the impossible scene before her.
"Uhh, yes." Bon Bon finally whispered back, still rather dumbfounded. "No need to worry about her anymore. I taught that S.N. a lesson she's not likely to forget."
"So, did you get the information we needed? Did you get to scan the shield?!"
Stormy Night scoffed at her husband's idiocy, but the sound was unfortunately muffled by the ice pack she held against her jaw.
"Awf courf, you idiaut. Nauw git us awt uf dis blahsted cell!" Luckily, she was understood despite the mangled speech, and with a flash of brilliant blue magic, the two were gone.