- Chapter 3 -
"Castle at Midnight"
or
"The part wherein Pipsqueak is scared out of his gourd."
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It was long after Pipsqueak had gone to bed, and the sun had yet to rise, but Luna was far from calm. The admittedly delicious pizza did little to calm her nerves, even after she had consumed two more slices after the kitchen staff had gone to their quarters to sleep. It just boggled the mind. Just what sort of sick, twisted freak would publish such outrageous lies, not only about her and her son, but other ponies as well? It made no sense! None at all!
The offending rag of a magazine was held in a purplish blue aura, Luna not daring to touch such filth. Yet… the more she looked through it, the more she found herself questioning the legitimacy of some of the things discussed within its pages. Things such as the existence of bipedal, furless creatures that had a language all their own, living, breathing ponies made of some sort of viscous, elastic goo… even certain gossip articles, like one that questioned the strength of famous model Fleur de Lis' bond with her husband; the millionaire patron to the arts known as Fancypants, it was all so very wrong, and yet Luna couldn't turn her eyes away.
"Such foul, yet addictive musings… truly, this magazine is the work of the demons of Tartarus!" she exclaimed, thankfully, not with the power of her Royal Canterlot voice, and within the confines of her own chambers.
Elsewhere, in an undisclosed location…
"Not quite, Moonbutt, but you're getting warmer!"
Sitting at a typewriter within a dark, dank cave, surrounded by all kinds of pictures taken at frankly impossible angles, or improbably convenient vantage points, along with stacks upon stacks of papers and scrolls, was a foul creature, typing away, the clack clack clack of claw against key echoing throughout the area. With a snap of his clawed fingers, a drinking glass popped into existence, and he held it under a small waterfall of an opaque, brown liquid, and drank the glass surrounding it with a long, steady sip. As soon as the mass of chocolate milk was tossed it aside, it simply “poofed” out of existence with a second snap of his fingers; no need to destroy his workspace, after all. Hopefully nopony would question why a mountain in the frozen north had an avalanche out of nowhere, and attribute it to nature taking its course.
"Ahhh… Nothing like a little chocolate milk to quench one's thirst…" breathed the creature, his crazed eyes glowing in the dim light of the lamp crafted in his own visage, the source of its power unknown.
Slowly, the beast ceased his typing, and affixed his gaze in a certain direction, an impish smile on his features.
"What? I like to do a little writing on the side. Helps perpetuate chaos in a different way that Twilight and the others can't easily stop, and the pay helps dear Fluttershy with her bills. Freedom of the press and whatnot, you know? Besides, this give me a way to let me have some harmless fun; the only ones that believe tabloid articles are a special kind of stupid, after all."
With that, Discord’s smile grew into a grin, and he returned to his evil machinations that--
"It’s not evil, it’s chaotic. There’s a difference."
Er, right. Anyway, back to the castle…
Pipsqueak lay awake in the large, alien space that was his room. It was only his second night here in his room, and despite sleep coming easily the first night, the second night was the complete opposite. Tonight, there was no energy that had been spent exploring every inch of the castle as his adoptive mother would allow; no excitement from discovering something as he wandered the halls for the first time. Despite having some really good pizza for lunch, it did little to dispel the awkwardness brought on by that article.
It didn't exactly help when Blueblood had given him an explanation as to why the article upset the Princess so, despite the fact he had asked him in the first place. Apparently, there were rumors that she liked to do more than just be friends with colts and fillies, and what that meant, Pipsqueak didn't know, since Blueblood was unusually tight-lipped in regards to the subject. When he had asked why he wouldn't tell him, Blueblood responded by telling him the one thing he absolutely hated to hear from any adult’s mouth.
"You’ll understand when you're older."
Pipsqueak hated those words. He wasn't dumb by any means, and he hated that just because he was a kid, adults assumed he wouldn't understand something. Thus, his irritation at his inability to understand just what was going on, along with his worry for his adoptive parental figure made quite the recipe for insomnia. Brushing aside a lock of his chestnut mane, he tossed aside his covers, smacking his lips as his tiny hooves made a gentle clippity clop against the marbled stone floor. While Pipsqueak didn't really know what the heck was going on, he at least knew one thing; it was late at night, and he was thirsty.
The heavy wooden doors that led into his chambers opened with an agonizingly slow creak, which reverberated throughout the area. Pipsqueak blinked as he stepped out into the moonlit hallway; though he was familiar with this area, since it was where his room was located and whatnot, there was one crucial thing he had forgotten to ask when he had been given a tour of his quarters courtesy of Luna. Just where was the nearest bathroom? He wasn't sure whether he needed to go up or down the hallway, or if he needed to make a right, or take a left… the castle was, simply put; rather confusing to navigate without a map. Trying to do so during the night just made it about twenty percent creepier, which was just the right percentage to make Pipsqueak do a double take for every minute he wandered throughout the halls of the castle.
All in all, the young colt's paranoia didn't help anything when he bumped into what he thought was a ghost. In reality, it was a new recruit in the Castle Patrol that got saddled with the graveyard shift, and was just as superstitious, if not moreso, than Pipsqueak. Both ponies screamed their heads off, banged into walls repeatedly, and took off in opposite directions. In the morning, the unfortunate stallion would find himself docked a week’s pay and relegated to latrine duty… using nothing but a toothbrush to clean the entire castle. Alone.
As for Pipsqueak, the colt ran screaming throughout the shadowy halls of the castle, diving into the first open room he saw… which happened to be Luna's chambers. After managing to calm her spastic son, she had asked him what was wrong. Then she had asked him to slow down so she could understand just what it was he was saying. Once Pipsqueak had explained why he had been running through the halls screaming like a banshee, Luna sighed, shook her head, and held the shivering foal in her embrace, stroking his mane until his shaking ceased.
"There now…" she cooed, cradling the drowsy colt in her forelegs. "If you'd like, you can sleep with us for tonight."
Pipsqueak could only nod and smile tiredly as the adrenaline from running scared through the halls of the castle finally began to wear off, the sudden onset of fatigue, combined with the fact it was way past Pip’s bedtime caused the diminutive colt to yawn in a manner that would have made any lesser mare squee. Nonetheless, it caused Luna’s lips to curve upward in the barest of smiles, all of her willpower being focused on the task of not turning into jelly at the positively adorable sight before her. Wrapping the foal in an indigo aura, she deposited Pipsqueak beneath the covers of her admittedly oversized bed, his brown and white-furred head peeking out from beneath the mass of sheets and blankets. Once Luna was under the covers as well, she gave her surrogate son a peck on the forehead, watching as he nodded off, his eyelids struggling to stay open.
"Goodnight, Pipsqueak." She said, nuzzling the colt’s cheek.
Another yawn escaped Pipsqueak’s mouth, and he smiled, the sweet, sweet call of slumber finally winning out in the end. As he slipped further into blissful unconsciousness, he muttered something, unaware that an alicorn’s hearing was many times greater than that of any normal pony.
"G'night mum…"
That night, a certain sovereign of the moon squee'd, and many a reader died a happy death.
The moon set for the night, morning came, and much to the Princess of the Day's surprise, there was Luna, trotting along with a bounce in her step, with Pipsqueak right behind her, sharing her sister's rather… sunny disposition. Normally, Luna saw mornings as nothing but a nuisance, and would almost literally have to be dragged out of her chambers to begin her daily routines. Whatever had happened last night, which Celestia had somehow slept through, had left her younger sister in such a bright and cheery mood that it was almost out of character for her beloved sister to be acting in this manner.
Finally, curiosity overcame the pastel-maned princess, and she couldn't help but smile as she attempted to get her younger sister's attention.
"Alright Luna, I'll bite; what's got you so giddy this early in the morning? In fact, what got you up so early in the morning in the first place?" she asked, cradling her chin with her hooves, smiling impishly at her dear sister.
Luna's only response was to smile at Celestia, giggling as Pipsqueak attempted to eat his breakfast of Prench Toast and orange juice with some semblance of restraint, holding herself back from outright guffawing as Blueblood made faces at the colt's antics regardless of the fact he was attempting to practice his table manners.
"Let me guess," surmised Celestia, her smile widening. "It has something to do with Pipsqueak?"
Luna nodded fervently, digging into her own plate of Prench Toast with much greater restraint than her adopted son. After swallowing a bite or two, she turned to Celestia, her smile threatening to fall off of her face, crumbs of toast and all.
"He finally said it, Tia!" she said, quietly enough so that only her sister would hear, while Pipsqueak was busy listening to Blueblood's pointers on proper table manners, and correcting his form as he continued eating.
"He did, did he?" replied Celestia, raising an eyebrow. "See, I knew that if you gave it time, it'd happen eventually."
"Yes yes, you were right again, sister." retorted Luna, sticking out her tongue. "Just don't rub thy royal flank in our face about it, alright?"
Celestia chuckled, a look on her face that clearly said 'I wasn't going to do that, but now that you mention it…' Of course, she thought better of it, and simply stuck her tongue out in return, then returned to sipping her cup of morning tea, occasionally lifting her head to see the rather amusing faces her nephew made as he made a valiant effort to teach the former orphan some semblance of table manners. Finally, the frazzled stallion gave up, sighing as he smoothed his mane back into place, watching the foal in front of him eat in such a way that, while it was better than how he was eating mere moments ago, it still made his stomach do all kinds of acrobatics. How both his aunts could stomach such atrocious table manners was beyond him. How they could stand his lack of manners in general was a mystery he cared not to solve. It did not occur to Blueblood that perhaps it was simply because he was a foal, just as he once was.
Okay, perhaps Blueblood was always a pompous twit, even at birth, but that’s beside the point.
While the stallion puzzled and puzzled until his poor puzzler was sore, Pipsqueak had finished his Prench Toast, and guzzled down the last of his orange juice, eager to face a new day in his new home. Trotting up to Luna, he tugged lightly on her flowing mane, his chocolate brown eyes gazing up at her as he asked a completely innocent question.
"So mum, what're we gonna do today?"
That morning, many a pony, both princesses included, were dangerously close to having a cuteness induced heart attack. Not that anypony would blame them, of course.