//------------------------------// // All the World's a Stage // Story: Luna's Librarian, Twilight's Moon // by TheLastBrunnenG //------------------------------// {By popular request I'm moving the audio version of this story to the top instead of leaving it in the Author's Notes.} “Prithee tell me, my good Guards, for how long hath the door to my quarters lain ajar?” “Ajar, Princess Luna? Nothing of the sort!” “Was never open, Your Highness. Sealed like a vault.” “Locked and shut, almost entirely.” “Barely a hoof’s width open, really.” “Mostly closed.” “Partially open. Mostly.” “Swung wide like a barn door, in fact, for just a few moments.” “Could’ve driven an applecart through it for maybe thirty minutes.” “Open as wide as the palace gates for an hour or more. Since Miss Sparkle arrived, certainly.” “I… see. And pray tell, didst either of you two fine stallions, ah… perchance, see anything through yon unclosed door?” “See, Your Majesty? Why, nothing! Nothing at all!” “No, Ma’am, we were blind as cave bats.” “Sightless and eyeless, we were.” “Saw barely anything of any note whatsoever.” “We hardly noticed the snogging.” “Barely registered in our dullard brains that you were spit-spelunking your sister’s student for the better part of an afternoon.” “Nope, we can verify that we definitely did not see you attempting to kidnap Miss Sparkle’s tonsils with your tongue.” “Probably.” “Indeed. And this – this was the only untoward sight thine eyes served to thee?” “Absolutely, Your Grace! Not a thing else.” “Truly, Princess, we saw nothing else of note.” “Little else to see, what the door being closed, and all.” “Right-o. Whatever else we saw was beneath report.” “Because we most assuredly did not see you hopping about like some giddy schoolfilly after Miss Sparkle departed.” “Not a chance! We totally missed the sight of Your Highness gallivanting about your room showering every surface with flower petals – ” “ – and cantering gleefully, and grinning like a lovestruck teenager - ” “ – and twittering sweet nothings to the evening breeze, and generally bouncing about with sparkling purple hearts in your eyes.” “Nope, we must’ve been looking the other direction when that happened.” “Must’ve.” “How comforting. And though it pains me to ask, tell me, verily – by some unfortunate accident, didst any… sounds… betray themselves to thine ears?” “Sounds, Princess Luna? What sounds?” “Quiet as a mouse-house out here, I can assure you, my Liege.” “Silence of the grave, indeed.” “Nary a whisper.” “Thanks be to Thee, O Heavens! For long moments was I worried that perhaps my song had carried.” “Song? Hardly, your Eminence. Surely we heard only crickets.” “Nighttime birds. Definitely.” “Perhaps a note or two.” “A few bars, nothing approaching a song.” “A small song. No more than a jingle, really.” “A ditty. One tiny, brief little tune.” “With dancing.” “And choreography. Possibly with props as well.” “A song and dance number of grand extent.” “A major production, the scale of which was hardly imaginable in a space as small as your quarters, at least until we saw it - ” “ – and heard it!” “Right, saw it and heard it for ourselves.” “Which we did not.” “Much.” “O Ancients, Ancestors, all! Let them not have heard, let them not have seen, I beg of thee!” “Not to worry, Your Eminence! After all, there was nothing to see or hear.” “Absolutely not. Nothing to see here, move along, that sort of thing.” “And if a note or two, or a melody - or even the rather grand operatic interpretation you used on that admittedly stunning fifth refrain – managed to escape, what of it?” “Agreed! It’s not like the Royal Canterlot Singing Voice carries that far, even with all the windows in your quarters open, Ma’am. Am I correct, Tony?” “Quite so, Obie. And Canterlot Castle is filled with long, unobstructed stone corridors much like this one. Can’t possibly echo that much.” “Not at all, not at all. See, Princess? Nothing to worry about whatsoever.” “So, my Sovereign, if by morning the guards – ” “ – and Castle staff, and passers-by - ” “ – and your Most Holy Sister, and the whole of Canterlot - ” “ – are all humming, singing, and perhaps setting interpretive dances to a certain tune, we can assure you that it most certainly, definitely, probably, will not sound anything like this. Ready, old chap?” “Ready, chum! Let’s see, how did it go? Ah, yes. And a one, and a two… ” She kissed me! She kissed me! Twilight Sparkle kissed me! She kissed me! She kissed me! Tra la la la la! Oh, I loved it! I loved it! ‘Twas more wonderful than I’d think! Oh, I loved it! I loved it! She smelled like books and ink! She kissed me! She kissed me! Twilight Sparkle kissed me! She kissed me! She kissed me! Tra la la la la! Oh, I’m happy! I’m happy! So happy I could fly! Oh, I’m happy! I’m happy! My librarian and I! She kissed me! She kissed me! Twilight Sparkle kissed me! She kissed me! She kissed me! Tra la la la la! “Right. And though, of course, as we all know, none of this ever happened - ” “ – wink wink, nudge, nudge!” “Might I say, Princess, ending your song and dance number with jazz hooves was a lovely touch.”