Lying on his back, his body swallowed by the plush cushion of his bed, Alistair stared up at the shadowy ceiling placed above him. By the time his need to be within Canterlot castle had ended, the hour had become far too late for him to make it back to Ponyville, leaving him to once again rest in one of the castles guest rooms. He hadn't yet discerned whether it was a blessing or a curse.
The bed was soft, being the most comfortable piece of furniture that the Grey Warden had ever encountered. It was made all the better as, just the other day, he had been sleeping on the hard ground. Despite all of this however, the king was unable to find a peaceful rest. So he simply laid there, abandoning the covers long ago.
His body was far too warm, as though it was the peak of summer outside. To make matters worse, the royal Warden felt an unbridled sense of energy and stamina, as though he could run the entirety of Ferelden in but a moment, his heart pumping more and more blood throughout his body. Even with his full alertness however, a storm of thoughts ravaged his mind as he blankly stared upward.
So many thoughts and questions rushed through his head, being understandable after what had all occurred. He began to think on Corvick, his actions as well as what happened to him. It made the Grey Warden think on his own arrival, as well as those of his companions.
Remembering how he felt when he had first awoke in the strange land, he recalled how wary he was of the strange, four-legged creatures. He had thought of them as monsters at first, having never encountered anything like them before. Of course now, he's come to understand them, but didn't make his reaction to them any better. What if he had attacked one of them, thinking they were some form of threat, like Corvick must have done. The same could have happened for any of the others. He could only thank the Maker that no other incidents had occurred, and that Corvick's own rampage was stopped.
In his right mind or not, Alistair was unable to think on the templar without feeling a flare of anger inside of him. Just the thought of the lyrium brand he had, though now made useful in returning them home, filled him with a fury that only such an abominable object could bring. He already knew that the first thing he would do once they were returned to Ferelden was have a chat with the Knight-Commander. The king didn't care how much actual power he had when it came to the Chantry and their templars, he wasn't going to turn a blind eye to what he had found.
But soon enough, his angered thoughts died down, paving the way for other ones. Unable to stop it, his mind began to wonder to someone else, to think on Princess Celestia. Immediately however, he forcibly pushed such thoughts aside, already feeling his cheeks burning as though they were being roasted. Then, Alistair's mind went blank as, in his alert state, he thought he heard a soft creaking noise.
Sitting up slightly, the Warden-King's gaze looked outward. It was hard to see in the darkness, only the outlines of the furniture and other objects in his room could be discerned, barely anything but blobs in the black nothingness. His gaze eventually drifted to the door, seeing it opened wide like a gaping maw, he was certain he had shut it before retiring.
Alistair's heart then lurched, his vision slowly improving as its focused gaze grew more and more accustomed to the darkness, he could see the faint outline of someone standing just beyond the threshold. Their posture was easy to see, with four legs resting on the ground, as well as a height taller than the average pony he had encountered. There was no doubt in the king's mind as to who it was.
Then, the darkened silhouette disappeared, leaving the doorway to be nothing but a black void. Beads of sweat formed on the human's brow as his unblinking gaze lingered on the spot for several moments. “She's just checking up on everyone,” Alistair's inner voice said. “Yeah, she's only worried for everyone's well-being, that's all. I would too if I had a crazed creature locked away in my castle. I should just lie back down and go to sleep, there's nothing else to be done, just need to stay in bed and rest.” Not heeding what his rational mind was saying, he climbed out of bed and slowly crept out of his room.
The grand halls of the castle were eery at night, there was only the dim light from stars shining through windows to offer any sight in the darkness. Even still, Alistair slowly made his way down the hall, the heavy thudding of his own heart making his ears hurt.
Just ahead of him, almost like a trick of the shadows, the king was faintly able to make out what looked like a billowing tail disappearing behind a corner. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Alistair moved in that direction, feeling like a common thief as he kept his steps light and movement silent.
“She just has something important to tell me,” Alistair thought as he continued forward. “It must be big, if it couldn't wait until morning. I'm certain it has to do with the Eluvian, they were already able to remake it and she's eager to let me know.” The breath was stolen from the human's body as he saw a light coming around a far off corner, a paroling guard passing by as his horn was lit up like a lantern. Hurriedly moving down the latest hall he had seen faint movement going into, the king managed to disappear just in time as to not be seen by the guard. He waited for several moments until the guard's light disappeared deeper into the castle, making the Grey Warden wonder why he was being so cautious.
Continuing onward however, Alistair kept his eyes open to pierce through the darkness, seeing just a glimpse of movement before it disappeared behind another corner. It almost felt like some sort of childish game, it brought on the question as to what would happen when it was finished. Still, despite his own head speaking against it, he kept following, his mind no longer in command of his body.
Eventually, the hallway ended, and Alistair came face to face with a single door. It looked grand and regal, so recognizable to the king as it soon became hard to breathe, realizing that it was the door to Celestia's quarters. The door wasn't fully shut, opened only a crack and showing nothing but darkness within.
“By the Maker!” cried the king's reasonable mind. “This isn't right! It has to be some sort of a trick. A trap laid by some kind of monster, or changeling, or something! That's the only explanation here! Just don't go in, Alistair! Turn around, leave and find help! Run screaming like a little girl if you must. But whatever you do, do not go through that door!” He pushed open the door.
The room was as dark as any other, making it difficult for him to see as he entered. The moment he was past the threshold, the door quietly shut, causing the king to jump. With slow, almost trembling steps, Alistair stepped forward, trying to see through the pitch black abyss surrounding him. Nothing could be seen, no outlines of objects or people, as though his eyes had been permanently shut.
Alistair then froze, stopped in his tracks as he became fully aware of another presence in the room with him. There was a sudden crackle of a spark and a candle became lit. It might as well have been a dull sun as it illuminated a portion of the room with a flickering light. With his sight restored, Alistair let out a sudden gasp as he realized he was now looking directly into the alabaster face of Princess Celestia, her eyes sparkling in the candlelight.
A half-lidded gaze remained locked onto the Warden-King's eyes, making his sights freeze onto her with no hope of escaping. Celestia's perfectly white coat was only marred by a single detail, the light, pinkish shade of red adorning her cheeks. Her soft lips were stretched into a beautiful smile, but not one that Alistair had ever seen from her before. It wasn't like the ones of kindness or motherly pride like she usually wore, it was instead an expression of the deepest of longing. Alistair faintly recognized it, having seen such an expression from the witch Morrigan when she would idly stare at the Warden-Commander, certain that no one was looking.
Alistair began to speak her name, wanting to simply say something that would end the terrible noiselessness that had fallen between them. But the king was not able to, his tongue was silenced by another as the sun princess leaned forward and kissed him deeply. It was a needy, hungry act of passion that nearly knocked the Grey Warden off of his feet. Any trepidation that he may have felt fizzled as he felt her pristine white lips thrust against his own.
They broke away, their eyes never separating. Alistair found himself breathing heavily, his lungs all but emptied. Celestia leaned forward once again, but rather than lock lips for a second time, she nuzzled her cheek against his and softly whispered, “It has been several centuries since I've last met one who could understand, to see beyond my tiara and power. How strange it must be that it was one who isn't even apart of this world.” There was an odd tug felt by the king. As he looked down, he noticed the golden aura that was surrounding his padded shirt, unwrapping itself from his body like a present.
Nervousness taking over, Alistair took a sudden step back, his eyes as wide as they could be and unblinking. “C-Celestia,” he muttered, his tone made barely audible from his fear at being overheard, “I-I-I really don't think this is- I mean, I-I've never-” Without warning, the Warden-King backed into the foot of the nearby bed, causing him to fall backward onto the cushioned surface with a startled yelp.
Before he could even react, a sudden addition of weight fell atop the king. In moments, Alistair was looking up at Celestia as she lied on top of him, her sultry gaze never faltering. He was utterly caged by the princess, her slender legs pressed against his sides, keeping him in place. Just as before, as the Grey Warden attempted to say something, he was stopped as the princesses pressed her mouth against his.
This kiss was much gentler than the last, much more intimate as Celestia explored the human's mouth. As though they had a mind of their own, Alistair's arms reached out and began to caress the pristine body of the loving princess. His hands ran across her long neck, tenderly rubbed her back, until the tips of his fingers finally landed on the plump royal flank at the end, eliciting a small moan from the equine ruler.
When they broke apart this time, their faces did not separate very far. Celestia remained close to the human, her warm breath washing over him as she said, “Just for tonight... as my sister rules the sky... I wish for just one night to not be a princess. Where there is no castle or royalty,” she kissed him again, a short peck on the lips, “just us.”
A familiar tugging sensation was felt, as Alistair's gaze drifted downward slightly to notice the light glow on the garments he wore below his waist. More of his nervousness and uncertainty began to pour out of him, a culminating fear of the unknown. He tried speaking, even as Celestia planted light kisses on his lips, moving down to his cheek, his neck, his chest.
Even as his mind became a swimming mess of new sensations and compounding anxiety, Alistair held just enough of his rational thoughts to speak. “I-I really don't think this is a good-” he tried saying, almost incoherently so as his words rolled off of his tongue at an increasing pace. “This isn't- We really shouldn't- If someone were to-” his words were cut off as he gasped sharply. “Sweet Celestia!”
A delighted smile spread out across Twilight's face as she looked around her home. Utter amazement washed over her as began to realize sensations she had never known before.
It took her no time at all to realize that she was dreaming. Several things clearly made it obvious. The inside of the library was easily three times the width that it usually was, having a larger assortment of books that the unicorn knew didn't belong. There was also the fact that the roof of the tree was missing. It looked as though it had been blown off, with time freezing moments later as several pieces of it simply floated in place high above her. With the ceiling missing in her home, Twilight was also able to see the ever-expansive sky that loomed over her. Colored her in a misty, dusky color, it stretched on as endless as an abyss.
Though she wasn't sure, Twilight could also make out what was most undoubtedly Canterlot castle off in the distance. It seemed only a small portion of its rocky perch was attached to it as the rest of the mountain was nowhere to be seen. An odd sense of unease fell over her as she looked at the castle. The usual pristine white walls were gone, coated in shadowy darkness. The scholar was forced to look away, pushing the castle out of her mind.
Never before had the lavender mare ever felt so lucid, so in control while her own dreaming state. She was certain that she could even force herself to wake up, an idea that was easily out of the question as she wanted to observe her new found dream world as best as she could. Everything simply felt real to her, as though she were really standing in a nonsensical version of her home.
Spike was missing, as was to be expected. Though the mare figured, given enough thought, she could simply form a dream-Spike out of nothing, if she ever needed to.
Twilight's own scholarly mind was teeming with questions and curiosity at what she could learn from her own dream. Taking a nearby book with her levitating grasp, she was surprised to see that it was one she had read before back when she lived in Canterlot. Upon further inspection, the book itself was a perfect replica, with every page matching that of its real-world counterpart. Over and over again, Twilight pulled books from the shelves, astonished to realize that they were all books she had read before. They all matched word for word.
The more she read the books, the more a brilliant idea began to form. “I could study here!” she exclaimed. It was a genius plan. If she could gain such a vivid dream every night, she could use the time to study all of the works she had read previously. While her body was resting, her unconscious mind could re-read all the her old books, retaining the knowledge held within and not wasting so many hours with unproductive sleep.
Just as her idea came into fruition, a sudden echoing laugh caused the mare to drop her latest book. She turned around and was surprised as she saw a figure approaching her.
It was a very peculiar looking thing. It looked somewhat like a pony, about the size of a stallion, though completely featureless with no mane or tail to speak of. The figure's appearance was almost like the ponnequins that Rarity had in her boutique. Unlike the motionless statues meant for dresses, this figure was transparent, with a misty-white aura around it. Twilight would almost call it a ghost, if she believed in such things.
A simple crease at the end of its muzzle made for a mouth, with circular dips on the face where its eyes would normally be. “That is a rather brilliant idea,” the figure said, the crease moving slightly to signify a talking mouth. The figure's voice was masculine and deep, almost guttural the more the unicorn thought on it. Despite the tone however, Twilight didn't feel an ounce of fear. Even if they apparition was hostile, she knew full well that that no harm could come to someone in their dreams.
“Oh, uh... it's really not that great,” Twilight responded, feeling weird for having a conversation with the ghostly stallion.
“Nonsense,” the figure said firmly, “there's nothing wrong with showing pride.”
Twilight smiled, remembering the commander's words when he had praised her for her ability. The sudden thought on the human immediately brought a momentary frown on her face. “Um... what are you exactly?” she then asked, wanting to get the Warden out of her mind.
The transparent figure bowed his head as he said, “I am a figment of your unconscious mind. Created by you here for a reason I am unaware of. All I can tell now is the brilliance of the one who made me.”
Again, Twilight found herself smiling, nodding her head as though in agreement to the figment. “I suppose... it is alright to take pride in what you do. Even if that has to do with coming up with great ideas and plans. Though...” She trailed off, unsure of what to really say.
The figment tilted his head slightly, his eyes staying on her for several moments. “Ah yes... you are plagued with a few doubts,” he murmured. “It has to do with someone... a very special someone.”
Twilight blinked, her attention now focused on the figment. “I.. well, yeah, I guess,” she replied in an uncertain voice. “I guess I just don't know what to do.”
Another deep chuckle came from the figment, bringing a sudden chilly tingle to go down the mare's spine. “That must be why I am here then,” the figment said plainly. “To aid you with your doubts. I am sure that this certain someone just hasn't seen the ability and power within you.” The figment stood proudly before the mare. “I can help you. All you need is to just do as I say. Then, all of your troubles will gone. You'll see what grand power you have, the ability to accomplish anything.”
Staring in awe at the figment, all Twilight could do was be engrossed in everything he said. There was no way of knowing why, but the figment's words sounded so enticing, so unbelievably perfect that the young scholar found herself nodding her head eagerly before her decision even came to her. “I'll do whatever you say,” she replied, her eyes filled with wonderment at what the figment promised.
A crooked smile cracked across the ghostly figment's mouth, his eyes igniting like a flame. “Wonderful...”