//------------------------------// // Chapter 15: Moonflower // Story: Starstruck // by Vest //------------------------------// ___ _____ Subdued of thought, devoid in word. The nocturne plays, but isn’t heard. In silent comfort, world blurred, The moonflower, and hummingbird. _____ ___ Chapter 15: Moonflower Breathe. The burden of years weighed heavily upon Luna, an immortal expanse of time that spanned as a featureless aether of cognition within her memories. How dulled and weathered they had become over time, to a point where time itself became irrelevant. Guaranteed she'd always be reigning side by side with her nights as long as the world desired its reprieve from the basking lifeforce granted upon them by the daytime sun. But the long hours of ardent preparation for the nightly performance, that frugal study and craftsmanship that testified to a mind having long ago tired in conjuring world-building magic, drove her into a fevered state more focussed upon the creation of the nightly song...rather than the ear it fell upon. Just...breathe... What it meant to her, though, was assuming the role of the one who would always provide shelter to those seeking the comforting embrace of the routine nocturne. Her song. Far in the distance beyond the windows, their glass facades glazed in a blurring sheet of speckled ice, the urgent chorus of Canterlot still boomed through the narrow alleys and streets that wove and intertwined like strings. The final verse of the day traveled between the elaborate web of architecture and avenues that diverted and pulled at the stray clatter of the city's life with the crafty precision of a brass instrument. The city itself hummed in its usual melodic... ...Breathing. With an adjustment of her wings, Devon's body realigned atop her shoulders, a dangling hoof flopped clumsily against her foreleg with a shrill tinny whine as the dull metal gauntlet reverberated in the still winter air. He's breathing. She had him strewn flat across her back, hoisting him up the library steps on the long curving staircase. Shadows bent and wrapped around each step in schizophrenic designs, a cobalt series of twisting shapes snaked through the dark library's aisles, railings, and diminished light fixtures as a meandering blue form ascended to the upper levels of the library. Like a shadowed maw clenching shut around her, the light angled into a narrow lick of cobalt flow tailing behind her as her glittering tail retreated into a looming row of books, disappearing suddenly to leave the cavernous atrium in its familiar darkness. The soft echo of her hoofsteps receded as the final stray flecks of her aura retreated into the confined recesses of towering bookcases. She leaned her head to her shoulder, twisting an ear towards the dark-coated unicorn hanging limply over her. She listened in closely, the tip of her ear receiving a soft caress from the wayward strands of his slightly disheveled mane. Surely, he doth breathe. A gentle arc of pressure ascended up her foreleg. Peering down to the dangling hoof slung over her shoulder, she saw the dark leg curl with a telltale sign of life... He's... ...Slowly wrapping around her neck in a weak squeeze. Bringing the night had never felt this personal to Luna before. It had never been so...tangible. The Princess of the Night seemed like nothing more than a metaphor, a symbol of the time to retreat and drift. Drift. Leave the exciting day behind you. Drift. Let the joy of dreamland find you. She had always been the one to give such sanctuary in the comforting shroud of nocturnal serenity, the one to provide it to all of Equestria as she had done for centuries before. But...to provide it to all of Equestria...it was different. This was... ...Clinging... Her mind wavered in the moment, as the very solace and comfort she weaved over the entire nation now focused upon a single soul. She nudged to the side, letting Devon slide onto a padded reading bench. He dipped into the cushions with a slight inward curl towards her, his foreleg still draped around her neck. The hoof pulled with a feeble, tense jolt, as if what few drops of energy remained trickling through his veins were trying to pull himself back up. Or. ...Clinging upon me? She reflexively pulled away, keeping a fixed gaze on his face. After a quick, short step, she raised her head slightly to look down at him; his eyelids didn’t flutter in the least, hardly any sign of life showed beyond the somber pulse of his jaw’s tepid quivering. His foreleg relieved, falling onto the library's wooden floor with a sharp thud that rocked the placid air around them, the softly throbbing noise of Canterlot's song of the end of the day diminished into the echoing wooden clatter... Just breathe. ...Falling away to a featureless silence, save for the erratic, uncertain rattle of the unicorn’s breath clawing to the surface through a barrier of frigid shivers. Breathe. Please. A shuffled drag emanated beneath her; his forehoof lay draped on the floor as labored panting of desperate gasps cut through - a sound like muffled whispers of an audience awaiting the next song to commence. The hushed atrium awaited a nocturne to arise in place of the silence. A subtle clattering of molars ascended from a forced exhale, then fell away as his pained inhalation whimpered through her ears. The darkness around them faded to a glowing maroon as Luna twirled the knob of a gas lamp above the bench, the flickering light just gentle enough for her to get a better look at the bruised unicorn without bringing too much attention to the library. Patrolling wings of Stormblade’s thugs may still roam out there. Any sign of activity from a civic structure that closed hours ago would be sure to raise their suspicions, or worse, raise their need to intrude upon her place for her to get away. For...them to get away. To be able to get...their own reprieve. This was their place. Their harbor in the bureaucratic storm. They couldn’t take that away from them. She searched beneath the bench searching for any form of cushion, sheet or quilt to wrap the hypothermic unicorn in, any sort of insulation to help keep his warmth sheltered inside and keep the interloping frost outside embed deeper into him. She peered down the aisles, searching for any sign of a closet or storage space, even some window drapes would suffice. But she was soon racked with an ominous revelation that she might have just dragged the poor liaison to the stars into a worse situation. She stepped beyond the initial archway leading back to the atrium when a tiny shrill echo delicately carried through to the tip of her ear. She couldn’t step far away from him. A part of him, somewhere deep inside, knew where he was, knew who brought him there and knew... Please cry not. I’m near. ...She couldn’t stray far. How many nights she had fulfilled her obligations in the past, Luna did not know. Even with the gaping one-thousand year gap in her memory, there were still too many nocturnes to count. But never once had the very existence of the night sky felt so irrelevant. Never once had duty felt as tangible as this. Never once had the entirety of Equestria's necessity to find asylum within her soothing night song been secondary to... I implore thee... The beaten, frigid unicorn shivered before her and let out a hacking cough that rattled his entire frame. Breathe! Luna leaned in close again and swiveled an ear to his nostrils, hoping to hear any sign of sentience beyond the struggling heaves and involuntary hiccups that racked his form. His body writhed as the coughs took on a startling violence. He was doing better just seconds ago! When did he make such a sudden downturn for the worse? What caused him to plummet so suddenly back into pained coughing? She placed a hoof upon his neck, feeling down his back with a curved fetlock. The pocked ridges of missing hair, tufts of vacant coat exposing skin, made her clench her eyes shut sympathetically. What hath they done to thee? She attempted a soft touch to his bruised shoulder. Through grit teeth, Devon seethed, forcing a shrill whine that quietly cracked through shaking lips. The patch of damaged skin whipped away on impulse, his foreleg attempting to reach for the injury before losing its energy and surrendering, again dropping flat against the wooden floor. What hath they done!? His jaw slunk to the side, hanging off the bench's cushion. Around a reddened ring subtly hiding against the skin of his neck, a silver quill pendant tumbled out. The burden of her years weighed heavily upon Luna, an immortal expanse of time that spanned as a featureless aether of cognition within her memories. But as the silver quill dangled, delicately reflecting the specular crosses of the lamp's light above him against its gilded contours, a flood of recollected instances associated alongside it fired within her weathered retrospection of time. What hath... The unicorn’s state bore testament to his sticking by the quest for her freedom. Luna’s cheeks tensed, the warm tingling of emotion graced under her eyes. Devon put himself through all of this for her. ...I done to thee? Before her mind would let the gnawing pang emanate any further to her exterior, Luna slowly nuzzled her cheek against his. The strenuous pulls for air diminished as she nudged closer, his lungs willing to put their own turmoil aside while she stood so close to him. A high pitched hiccup convulsed deep within his throat. Breathe. The sputtering coughs subsided further. She listened in, hopeful. Yes. Breathe. His jaw relaxed as his chest dipped downward, long, easy breaths creeping out through loosely parted lips as his body weakly supped from Luna’s warmth. Dark specks descended down the window's light against the floor. Luna turned, seeing that a gentle snowfall lapped against the library's exterior, collecting in matted tufts of white at the base of each glass pane. A gust of stirring wind buffeted against the window with a frigid tone, the chilling sound complemented by a shuddered huff as Devon curled up again in a shiver. His foreleg swayed outward, attempting to reach to the air, but not making a few inches before collapsing under its own weight. Luna watched the dark unicorn in hushed trepidation, his beaten and barely responsive body convulsing to another fit of trembling quivers. She took his suspended foreleg, wrapping her hoof against his. His fetlock tightened, attempting vainly to wrap around hers before slipping away. Devon's breathing tensed as a pained jolt of energy lurched into the hoof, like every fiber of his soul attempted to hold it in place. Quickly, Luna caught the foreleg with her two front hooves, and lifted it to her cheek. With the gentlest touch from her muzzle, the hoof immediately pulled upward, then descended with a tender grace back against her cheek. Luna slowly tilted her head into it, pressing the hoof against her with both forelegs while the hoof arced back and forth slowly. Easing her hold gradually, the hoof glided effortlessly down the length of her cheek, caressing the tip of her chin. Luna leaned into him, guiding the hoof slowly around her neck as she pressed her cheek next to his. Breathe. With stumbling strength, the hoof fastened once more around her, wrapping at the base around her cobalt mane flowing weightless behind her. Together, they breathed in deeply as she pressed her neck into his, wrapping her chin around the top of his shoulder, his weak foreleg pulling with greater force. Tenderly, she graced the tip of a hoof against his bruised shoulder, but eased suddenly upon hearing a pained groan hiss through his nostrils again. However, the leg around her neck didn't protest. It pulled harder, without tensing or shaking. Despite the aching, it remained in place, gently caressing small circles over the spot on where the hoof rested. Though Luna eased her grip upon him, letting the pitched sighs recede under his laborious breaths and shivers, the hoof started to gently tug at her, pulling at her. A rustling against the bench cushions slid into the silence, a second hoof starting to come to life with a shrill whine of dragging brass; trying to reach through the cold air, trying to weakly hold itself up under its own weight and the weight of the metal contraption around his leg. Trying to connect with its sibling hoof around her neck. Descending on her front knees, she graced her cheek against his chest, swinging her head around to the other side of his neck. His other foreleg attempted another strained reach for the one pulling against her neck, neither strong enough to contact. With a wisp of her starry mane sparkling behind her, she shook her collar, adjusting her shoulders to the side to allow her own forehooves to grip his faltering hoof around the fetlock. Dipping low, her forehead rubbing against his, she hoisted the second hoof up, settling it gently beside the other. Shifting her body parallel to the bench, she kneeled lower, pushing her weight in his direction to close the distance between her sternum and his shoulders. A rustle caressed a warm tremor down her neck as the two hooves draped over her discovered one another, attempting to contact in their weakened grips. She pressed in even closer, angling her neck to assist the fidgeting hooves, and finally, they crossed over her, both pulling against her with foalish frailty. Luna closed her eyes, gently parting her lips with a smooth exhale, letting the hooves pull her towards him. She aligned her body alongside the bench, at first attempting to ascend to the cushions with her back to him, only to find herself unable to navigate the space behind her, her head having nowhere to fall. She slid a foreleg alongside his ribs, contact with the bruises and ice-burned patches of skin causing him to tremble slightly in a high pitched groan of unconscious protest. His shivering form, still awash in copious numbness, clamored and whined as she slowly slid alongside him with her face nestled alongside his. But as the tips of her eyelashes graced along his forehead, the vocalized gripes of his injuries descended to irrelevant whimpers as the only conscious extensions of Devon pulled with increasing alertness against her neck, pleading for her to push forward against him. Breathe. His cheeks pulled up into a tense huff of seething breath rasping through clenched teeth, as his brow dropped heavily downward. The wrapping contact of Luna’s forelegs burned and wrenched against his bruises, yet every time her reflexes would demand she relinquish the slightest bit of pressure, timidly easing away, those hooves at the back of her neck would pull tighter. It’s okay, they seemed to beckon. You’re helping me. Helping him. The entire duty of bringing about the night was always steeped in the nuance of helping other ponies. They needed a time to recharge and tuck away until the next day came. It was always just...granted. She just assumed that she would be helping them, she just assumed that it was what they wanted even though she never got to see the fruits of her own labor in crafting those dazzling night skies for them. Celestia...she’d be able to stand atop her tower, and see plainly the denizens of her kingdom basking in it, playing in it, singing upbeat songs and uniting in spontaneous cadences about making them smile and brightening up their days. But they also needed their sleep. They needed night. They needed her. But when she’d give them the night they so desperately long for after a strenuous day of work and taking care of their families, they hide from it. They set up bastions of lights and torches to fend off the darkness, to burn away her moonlight with the accursed glow of their own luminance. How could she even know if her nights were appreciated if the only indicator she got from the whole of Canterlot came in the form of their countless inventions to repel it? It was, after all, this kind of thinking...this line of reasoning that caused her to...made her... Breathe. ...No. She was better than that. Reaching up, she dimmed the gas lamp hanging over the bench, only letting the slightest subtle ember of light emanate into the room. She rest her thigh against the cushion, and then hoisted her legs up.. Of course. She was better than what she was then. She had to be. The Elements of Harmony had transformed her back into her current self, removing all the dark nefarious energies of the stars from her! She no longer had desires to have the superior night! No longer did she demand tribute of such! If appreciation had to be assumed, then so be it. Let them have their night, she’ll protect them, she’ll shelter them, she doesn’t need their appreciation! She...suddenly felt another tug against her neck, the hooves slowly gracing along her shoulders and back to her neck. It had never felt this personal to her before. It had never been so...tangible. This is what she did for everypony. This is how they revered her. Beaten. Tired. Unconscious. Yet in silence, tremendously grateful. Unable to see her dazzling facade, incapable of reaching up and embracing her sky, only able to mutter the inaudible mumbles of sleepy droning, they held her like this. They always held her like this. A restrained tranquility that, in its shunned exterior housed the very essence of what truly shelters them. * * * * * “C’mawn!” Gina barked, digging her hooves to top speed through Canterlot’s alleyways. “That creep’s got one heck of a good head start and we gotta help Dev’s!” Despite the bitter cold, the orange mare felt nothing but heat, created by the frustration from being brought up short by Stormblade, and even more than that, the shame at her hesitation to help Devon. HItting a corner too fast, Gina skidded flank-first into the side of a building but only slowing long enough to adjust her course. “This’d go a whole lot faster if ya flew, ya know?” “I know ma’am, but I can’t leave an injur-” Jetstream allowed the rattle of trash cans to pipe into the conversation as the unicorn battered through them rather than go around. “I’m not going to just leave out out and alone. You’re hurt and if Stormblade catches one of us alone, we’d be no match for him.” All Gina could do was let out a snorting huff of air. As much as she hated to admit it, the straight-laced guard was right. If she wasn’t injured, if she had her magic, if she had a giant statue of a demigod of Chaos to use as a club, Stormblade would be nothing more than a trifle. But she had none of those things, and while she considered using the armored pegasus as a stand in cudgel, she figured it would make the explanation to Celestia more difficult in the end. Besides, she’d need some way to lift him and it was daunting, but not impossible without magic. All rather academic points, all things considered. Rounding another corner, they found a straight line to the Palace, lined with flickering streetlights and caked in winter frost and covered in a sheen of ice. “Aw jeez…” Gina huffed, her lungs begging for a moment to catch up. “When…” pant, pant, “when did Canterlot get so big?!” Her tone was utterly incredulous, shocked that nopony consulted her on such a thoughtless oversight. Moments later, the cyan pegasus stumbled to a halt next to her, fit body still able to press on, though duty keeping him lockstep with his slower companion. “Ma’am,” Jetstream breathed. “Take your time, we can slow down and get to the Palace just fine, there’s no reason to overexert yourself. Not with that broken hor-ERF!” Gina reacted to the sensible caution and levelheaded care for her well-being with a sharp hoof into his chest plate. “Noooope! We’re not slowin’ down for anythin’, y’hear me?!” she bleated, her voice morphing between gasping for breath, growling threats and manic giggling. Shoving off again, Gina set off on a forced sprint towards the palace, but could only manage a few steps before being forced into a stop by her overtaxed body. “Look, you know what to do, just get to the Princess, we gotta help both of ‘em out.” The ice sent Gina’s legs into a spin until the exhausted mare came to a halt against a low wall, throwing an impatient look at the pegasus. “Only takes one of us to tell Celestia,” she snapped at the pegasus. “Just go!” Jetstream hesitated. On the one hoof, she was absolutely correct. Every second they wasted or slowed, Stormblade got further away and the chances of stopping him grew dimmer. But on the other hoof, abandoning his sudden ally placed both of them in greater danger should the Second Captain come back for them, and that was to say nothing of leaving an injured mare in the middle of a freezing winter night. On the third hoof, Princess Luna had ordered him to make sure they got to the Palace. On the fourth, they had to get to the Palace together… “Hello?!” Gina barged into Jetstream’s chain of thought with all of the delicate grace of a train crash. “You’re staring at me like I got three heads! Get goin’ or I’ll give ya a real good reason to run!” Before the Private could respond, the mare stepped in to assist his decision-making by driving her forelegs into his flank with a powerful shove. Icy streets provided little resistance to slow him down, made worse by four flailing hooves. “Woooaaahh!” Jetstream stammered, tilting nearly over on one side before his hoof found some kind of grip only to lose it again and tilt him wildly the other way. As he spotted the less than welcoming embrace of a decorative pegasus statue fast approach, the pegasus flared his wings and with a single powerful burst of movement, lifted off the ground, immediately stable now that he relied on the air rather than the ground. “Now what in Celestia’s mane was that all about?” he sputtered, turning to the unicorn with offended incredulity. “If we get going like this, we’ll never get anywhere!” Gina stood silent, eyes widening. “Look, ma’am, you’re hurt and we’re both really stressed out, but if we don’t work together, we’re sunk!” His lecture picked up steam as he drifted back down to the icy ground in front of her. A smile soon joined the widening eyes. “Now whose turn is it to get their head out of the clouds? Hello?!” The smile turned into something frightening as inspiration combined with a crazed mind. “Ma’am…?” Jetstream’s indignation at the shove quickly found itself shoved out by a primordial nervousness, an instinctual knowledge that some idea was brewing behind those eyes, and he was part of it. Finally, the laughter, more chilling than anything the Canterlot winter had to offer, rippled from the mare and she approached. “I just had a brilliant idea,” she said between heady guffaws. “Gonna solve both of our problems with one little thing. Hyeh heh...c’mere, this’ll work, I promise!” Before Jetstreak could speak or rise out of her reach, Gina lashed out with another foreleg, seizing the Private by the shoulder and twirling him in a clumsy pirouette. “Hey, what are you do-ow!” Jetstream’s protest was cut short by a sharp tug on his tail as his back turned to Gina. “Now all you have ta do is fly!” “But ma’am, I told you I can’t just le-EEAOOW!” Looking behind, the cyan pegasus saw his tail firmly in the grip of the orange unicorn’s teeth. After a few more chomps to get the best grip, Gina locked her eyes with him and smiled around it. “You can’t be serious…” he muttered. “Mrmprhm.” “This would never wor-OW!” A firm squeeze of equine teeth made up the majority of Gina’s counterpoint. “Will you sto-EEP!” Chomp. “Okay! Okay!” Jetstream braced for another punishing bite, but instead saw a blissful smile and heard a contented squeal around his tail. Beating his wings, the guard pulled his hooves off the ground, ascending slowly until his tail pulled taut. “Hang on, but…” he hesitated, searching for words, “but not too tight, alright?” “Mrrmphm!” “Okay, okay! We’re going...that’s what you want, right?” With another beating pulse of wings, the pegasus guard flew low, slow at first until the nearly frictionless ice surrendered its grip on the unicorn’s hooves, gaining speed. “Mrrrruuhhmmm!” * * * * * Luna inhaled in a broken pull for breath, her nostrils quivering unexpectedly as she pulled her forehead against his, rubbing muzzle to muzzle. She slid a foreleg beneath Devon’s neck, lifting his head above hers, settling it against her cheek as she craned her neck under his. Another groan ascended from the unicorn’s throat, though much lower than before, more...settled. A jumbled lull of just a couple words seeped out, before another wafting ripple of shivers gripped him. On impulse, an instinctual pulse of magic surged up Luna’s horn. She gripped him tightly, interlocking her own forehooves together and pulling him closely, clinging to him. Breathing deep, she pulled her head beside the dark face, then nestling steadily against his forehead, she pressed her horn against his, magical heat flowing slowly into him. Devon gasped suddenly for air, his chest rising into her’s, the hooves behind her neck clenching tightly. Breathe. He exhaled a few seconds later, his body’s chilled shivering dissipated as his torso settled once more plunged into the cushioned bench. The dark forelegs adjusted again over her shoulders, locking together, and again pulled her close. She exhaled as well, seeing her sudden wave of magic had done whatever it had intended to do...though something she didn’t intend for it to do. Her own mind, she felt, was regressing. Regressing to a primordial state, free of the very tenets of society, of reputation and obligation. The unfamiliar sensation creeped deep within her, a coalescence of relief and bliss that held steadfast. The immortal expanse of time that trailed through her mind in a featureless amalgam of incomprehensible noise could never be able to pinpoint the last time she, like an infant, just let a natural wave of spontaneous magic course through her like that. A gentle sensation nudged against her haunch. She felt a soft, weak kick pressing knee-first into her. She rolled subtly to the side to let the curling leg pull into him, to let his cold, softly shivering body attempt to warm itself up in a tightly coiled position. Instead, the leg reached out, grasping out towards her own, his thigh settling against her knee. His shoulders jerked weakly in a debilitated twist, hardly clearing enough distance to barely make his frazzled coat rustle against the cushion. She felt another tug against her neck, but was unable to pull herself any closer while his legs were between them. Again, he softly shivered. She extended a wing across him, draping it over his back like a blanket. The navy feathers formed an enveloping jacket over him, but now more exposed to his own chilled exterior, Luna choked down her shocked gasp of breath as she pulled more of his form closely against her. A thought sprang to mind, and with another press of her forehead against his, she attempted once more the spontaneous warming spell that comforted and soothed him last time. She clenched her eyelids shut tightly, focussing on her horn, attempting to pull into the furthest recesses of memory, but no clamor of thought could permeate from the immortal expanse of time. That featureless aether. Not even a memory of sporadic bursts of spontaneous magic, not even a memory of the years when such would even occur breached the surface. So what did it mean, then...when she did it just minutes ago? What hast...thou done to me? Another agitated huff of cold air struck against her, the reverberating cough of weak breath sputtered out. Devon groaned again, his leg dropping limp to his side. A desperate cling from the two hooves around her neck pressed for a few final precious seconds, before they started to unhook and descend gently down her shoulders, caressing them before a quivering jolt of energy within caught them. The muscles strained, pulled and attempted as Luna ducked down on the couch to give them less space to traverse, a better chance to fight back, to hang on. Breathe. She raised her forehooves, dipping her head into his chest, and guided them back over her neck, back to their resting place. She pulled her draped wing tighter, his softly heaving torso closing the distance against hers. Breathe! Her mind empty of thought, vacant of premonitions, her synapses fired purely on the necessity for action, dictating quickness and desperate necessity. Don’t think. Just do what needs to be done. Do what comes naturally, and don’t bother contemplating just what it means or the details, simply let it happen. If bringing the night’s to all of Equestria, for all ponies to shelter and comfort themselves in after every day came so naturally to her, then so should an embrace for a single- -A cobalt pulse flickered through the room, gracing the tips of all the millions of pages that surrounded her, dancing gracefully between the shelves up towards the ceiling. Her horn lit again, and before she could piece together why her shoulders were tensing so vigorously to pull herself forehead to forehead, the cracked panting of Devon’s sharp inhalation coursed through her ears. His body again ascended against hers, and the two sibling hooves wove through each other to clasp against her. How much like the night itself. In thinking about it, pondering every facet that went into it, the night would chill and bring darkness. But the night...it wasn’t her skill. It wasn’t her discipline. Night was Luna’s gift. It was what she was intended to do. Something as natural to her as... ...Breathing. His whole body rested back against the cushions, Luna drifting down with him. With his head tilting upward, drooping to the side, she slid her own muzzle up against his forehead, and with relaxed cautious breaths exhaled gingerly into the bangs of his mane. With each wafting of air drifting forth, the bangs flecked up in a timid arc, gracing the base of her horn. Cobalt wings tightened, taking a solid hold upon his back, allowing herself to lift him just enough with her lower foreleg to snake the second wing under him. The wings joined in a braid of interlocking feathers, regimented in stalwart poise pressed flat against him, and pulled. Another jolt of chilling contact fired through her body, his matted underside biting against her. A subtle whine gently escaped between her lips as she seethed in reaction, but with a light shake of her head discounting the conventional wisdom of her frigid nerves’ protests, her wings stirred with the additional pressure of their muscles tensing even tighter. Her chest constricted as an uneasy exhalation arose from her, Luna’s clenched teeth surrendering to a clattering rattle with the ripple of involuntary shivers that ricocheted down her ribs. Don’t think. Just do what you must. Just do what comes naturally. Shelter. Comfort. With a foreleg, Luna slung his head upward, reaching the foreleg behind him to press his neck against hers again, but with an errant rogue shiver that crept up her haunches, she gasped out in a loud whimper, the gently swaying strands of his dark blue mane gracing tenderly against her hooves as it dropped at a precarious angle over the edge of the bench, threatening to smash with the limp force of raw gravity propelling it downward. She lurched back, hoping to realign her hooves to catch him as his head fell, yet was subdued when a sinister puff of stray wind beneath his dropping muzzle summoned a convulsion of quivering shoulder muscles that impeded her, forcing her to clench her eyes shut, pulling her hooves away. The shivers immediately receded. Luna’s sternum rose, pulling her lying body up with it in a net of slowly capsized gravity. Feeling the leathery press of a muzzle against her’s, the slowly waving caress of a thin veil of hair gracing the base of her horn, she opened her clenched eyes. A gray aura permeated around Devon’s horn, the side of it firmly held against Luna’s, a magical flutter of sparkling energy spun around and into hers. A gentle wave of warmth reverberated through her veins. Then, as borderline comatose as he was before, Devon’s magic fizzled out, leaving him to slink back onto the bench with the whispering embers of gray magic gently gliding him back to the cushion. A soft smile formed on his face, his closed eyes fluttered subtly as his cheeks relaxed with the telltale signs of life reemerging. Devon... She pulled him close to her, laying side by side on the bench. ...Thou knoweth not... She lay there, letting him slowly meld against her, his gradually warming body slightly augmenting in activity with every breath that fell from him in growing ease. ...What thou hast done to me. A relieving sensation of tranquility crept down her in an imagined blanket of calm serenity, the gentle buffeting of the wispy breeze outside singing behind her. Her head descended against the cushion, her own forelegs and wings easing their grip as gravity itself pulled her over his shoulders, and with a lethargic exhale, draped over him in a final yawn before letting time coast between them. Between the solace and comfort they had interwoven unto each other. Her eyes wandered between the eclipsing darkness behind her eyelids and the towering bookcases looming above her. The cobalt dance of her mane’s aura emanated somberly through the gaps and alcoves between books, shelves, and rafters. Time descended away into its usual obscure irrelevance, now the dim corner of the library fading into dissipated tendrils of a featureless aether of cogniscience. As the world transitioned away, only the gently sleeping form of a beaten, bruised unicorn remained, his ruffled coat rhythmically falling and rising with each breath that passed through him. Closing her eyes, Princess Luna allowed her magic to extend outward like she had done every night since her return. Despite the gravity of the power, the action was reflex to her, extending her consciousness into the ether, reaching out to her sleeping subjects. But unlike her usual nightly routine, this time it was focused. Instead of a wide tapestry of dreams stretching as far as the moonlight reached, Luna beheld Devon’s sleeping mind, one single thread in the whole expanse. * * * * * Angling her hooves, Gina skidded past a park bench, grazing her side fur as the pegasus towing her simply went over it. The only thing more incredible than the speed she could get up to was how silent it was, with only the erratic scrape of hooves on ice, and the occasional gust of wind passing her ears when they made a hard turn. Everything else was a bizarre, wintry calm. A mouthful of tail prevented the giddy, filly-like laughter that she ached to indulge in, but there would be time for that later. Above and ahead, Jetstream was having less fun. A constant weight tugging him from behind meant he had to fly dangerously low, bobbing and weaving around obstacles that would much easier be flown over. Every turn, too, carried the extra load of a full grown mare swinging behind him like an out of control anchor. However, even he had to admit the speed was far better than if they had run, and her carriage much easier than he anticipated. With the ice providing almost no resistance, once the pegasus got up to speed, the mare’s drag grew less and less, flying on the wings of momentum. “Almost there now!” The guard called. Peering from beneath his frame, Gina beheld the Canterlot Palace rising ahead of them, lit up brightly for the Hearth’s Warming Gala. Even at such a dizzying and precarious speed, the mare could not help but wonder at the majesty before her, and marvel at the bizarre choice of music that burst from it in painful throbs of blended bass and shrieks of mortified children. Another whirling bend and the orange unicorn beheld the final path to the Palace gate. While his passenger admired the view, Jetstream narrowed his eyes, scanning for any more obstacles or obstructions. Luckily, he spotted no partygoers or citizens, everypony driven indoors by the cold of the night, so at least the Private only had to worry about damage to himself and the mare behind him. Even in times of crisis, he prided himself on slowing things down mentally, judging each possible step and obstacle. As long as he kept his wits and focus, nothing could keep him stuck for long. As he took small comfort in the thought, the mare stretched forward, flailing a foreleg up at the pegasus until she managed to swat his leg, drawing his attention. “What is it? We’re almost there.” Jetstream’s mind turned to what he was going to do once they made it inside. Getting Celestia’s attention in the middle of this whole party without causing another raucous scene like before would be difficult, especially given the frantic speed at which they’d be hunting her down. No. Got to keep calm and get her attention, then we’ll just explain- The batting continued again, frantically. “I told you! We’re close! Just calm down or I’m going to crash!” But what if Stormblade’s here first? Well, I do have a witness and- Bat! Bat! Bat! Bat! “WHAT?!” Across the open space, one of the two Privates stretched, bemoaning the uncomfortable pressure that dented armor put on his torso with every move. He stretched one way, then another before resigning to the discomfort and turning to his companion. What chafed more than the battered uniform was just how it got this way. Even if he racked his brain, all he could recall was an alley, something orange and then waking up in a pile of garbage. “So what do ya’s think got under Stormblade’s skin?” A sharp question from the second stirred the first from his attempt to piece it all together. “How the heck should I know? Probably somethin’ to do with how we wound up all beat up and knocked out in the alley.” Throwing a withering glare at his companion, the Private turned his attention back to the empty approach to the Palace with a glum sigh. Sure, he was on the fast track with Stormblade’s personal support, but what started as a special night time curfew patrol turned into an increasing disaster the moment that orange mare turned up, letting the one unicorn they caught slip away. “But at least Stormblade wasn’t mad!” His fellow Private chirped. Turning, he looked in at the gala through one of the palace windows. “I’da thought that he’d be blowin’ up on us after that whole screw up. All he did was tell us t’keep anypony outta the palace. Said it was real important, too!” Pausing to blow steaming air into the night sky, the guard leaned back against the door, eyes more on the gala than his post. “An’ with nopony even here, it’s a total cakewalk! Y’don’t think this is some kind of punishment, do ya?” When no reply came, he repeated, “do ya?!” All he got in return was a single bat on his shoulder. “Oh what? Silent treatment no-will you STOP hitting me? What is…” The first private’s head turned until he looked down the lane leading from Canterlot Palace. Before him, he saw another pegasus guard flying low, directly towards the pair, not terribly unusual. However, what did catch his eye was the orange figure flailing wildly at the cyan pegasus’ flank. Something about that figure seemed familiar, like he had just seen it somehow, but he only could guess at where. “Oh…” Jetstream muttered, eyes growing with the realization of imminent collision about a second beyond his ability to do much of anything about it. “...that…” Bracing his body, the aerial pony flared his wings and threw everything into a backwards push. “Hold on!” “MMMMHP!” Gina squealed, tail still clamped over Jetstream’s teeth, her foreleg sore with how many warning swats she laid out on his rear and leg. Normally, Jetstream’s maneuver would bring him to a sudden, but controlled landing. Normally, it would be a simple matter for even an amateur flyer to stop on a dime. However, no flight camp schools taught how to stop while towing a flailing unicorn over ice. Instead of a skidding four-hoof landing, Jetstream flipped head over haunches, his back half carried forward by Gina’s vice-like grip and out of control momentum. As the pegasus flipped over, the unicorn mare’s head snapped backwards, wrenching her teeth until a heavy tuft of tail hair come loose into Gina’s mouth and she snapped away. “Hey now Stormblade said t’stop anypon-” the first guard managed to say before the icy orange missile slammed into his chest. The impact carried him down onto the mare, but only slowed her slightly, certainly not enough for the second guard to scramble away on icy cobblestones, who managed to let out a single yelp before being caught up in the mass and carried into the palace door. Where armored pony could not stop a sliding Gina, thick timbers could, and the entire knot of guards and mare slammed into it with a sudden, shuddering halt. “Ooof…” Jetstream groaned, pausing long enough for the world to stop spinning. As his eyes recovered and he found a steady patch of ground to stand on, he looked over at the tangled heap of pony that now sprawled all over the entryway to the palace. For a single, terrifying moment, he saw no movement at all from either the two guards or the mare. “Ma’am?” he finally called, scraping towards the door, “ma’am are you alright?” “Urrrghh…” one of the ponies in the pile responded, but in such a guttural tone that Jetstream could not place it as belonging to any specific individual. “Ma’am?” The Private drew closer, extending a trepidatious hoof towards the orange fur in the pony pile. Moments before he made contact, the orange shape sat bolt upright, hacking and coughing. “Gyaaack!” Gina heaved once, sputtering and spitting as she wrenched herself out of the tangle of armor and legs. “AgghhhGACK!” Another series of coughs before rippled through her body until she finally straightened her body and rose to her hooves. “Is everything alright?!” Jetstream pressed, looking Gina over as she shook dust and frost from her coat. “Are you hurt?” “Is everything alright?” she asked, laughing darkly. “Is everything alright?” Turning, the orange unicorn squared up in front of the pegasus. “You just...curled me at two guards while going at full speed! What do you think I am, some kind of...pony...curling...rock thing?!” “And with your injury no less, I’m terribly sorry ma’am bu-” “Everything is GREAT!” Gina cackled wildly. “Well, except for the mouthful of your tail hair, but yes that was completely awesome!” Another spit to emphasize her point. “We’re so doing this again! Now c’mawn!” And, with a flourishing wave of her mane, Gina strode past the door and into the gala, Jetstream following after a small, bewildered silence. “Well...uh...alright.” * * * * * As her magic reached out, Luna found herself falling into Devon’s dreams. A sympathetic wince writhed out of her as the signs of struggle and injury carried over into the subconscious, bruises and strains became a feeling in the air, fresh lances of pain occasionally blazing red as the charcoal unicorn shifted onto a sore spot or rolled his head in such a way to aggravate his neck. Delving deeper, images and shapes began to emerge, the deep-seated memories dominating Devon’s thoughts and the immediate thoughts, arranged in disorder. Devon was not actively dreaming, yet Luna knew that he was here. Strangely, despite guiding ponies through their dreams for centuries, the Princess vastly prefered observation and subtlety to announcing herself. But she knew he needed to hear her voice. “Devon!” Calling out created an instant effect. All around her, thoughts shifted and moved, images and symbols replaced and recombined until something more coherent formed and the landscape shifted. In a flash, Luna stood in the statue garden at the end of the battle, the tower frozen mid-collapse in the background. In the grass sat a charcoal unicorn, staring up at a moon that newly bore her visage. “Luna?!” Devon blurted, his attention going first to her, then to the wider area. “Wait...aren’t we in the archive? What happened to that officer?” The barrage of questions ended when the Princess touched a hoof to the top of his head to silence him. “Do not fear, thou art safe and well, but we are in thy dreams, muddled as they are from your injuries, Devon.” “Then does that mean...” the charcoal unicorn mused, looking around a few times before returning his gaze. “Well, that means you are okay, right? No more loose ends or something that I forgot? I’m so sorry that I-” The hoof touched his head again, stopping him before his apologies gained momentum. “Aye, aye, I’m fine, thanks to thee. In truth, I am more concerned for thee.” Luna trembled at the memory of one of her sworn protectors rashly attacking Devon in his misguided pursuit of power and control. While she was no stranger to injuries on her citizens, to see it directly because Devon refused to give her up struck home. Like her nocturne, this was more personal than anything. And even injured and half-frozen to death, his first concern was for her. “Well, as long as you’re alright, it was worth it. When you took off from the gala, I thought something else was wrong. And since it was probably my fault I wanted to see what it was.” “Nay, t’was not thee...” Luna sighed and shivered. “Truthfully, I was terribly frightened, Devon, I had been to the moon before, and when I was thrust back, it was a nightmare returned in full strength. I fled for solitude because my mind was addled, panicking.” Seeing Devon’s confused expression, the Princess added. “The last time I returned, I was not quite myself, but this time, I experienced it fully. To worsen matters, that same guard who attacked thee, Stormblade, he loomed over me even as the others tried to aid me!” Quiet descended on the scene. However, Devon’s roiling mind caused the dreamscape to whip around them, thoughts materializing into real things that matched his subconscious. Generally, dreams were a single construct, but Devon’s mind felt disjointed, struggling through the phantom aches of his bruises and the myriad of questions that still swirled around his mind. “I’m not sure what to say...” the charcoal bookkeeper admitted. “I’m just really happy that you are back but...” “But what?” “Well, I was kind of the reason you were gone in the first plac-mmpf.” The hoof this time pressed firmly on his snout and mouth. “Do not be daft!” Luna commanded, eyes narrowed in regal command. “For one, it was thee who saved me from the contract. For two, it was thee who found the means to bringeth me back. Thou had no way to know that breaking my contract would do such a thing to me.” “Mmhphmphm...” “And besides, I saw thy dreams when you finally slept after the battle. I saw how much thou suffered to set things right.” Luna lowered her hoof. “And thou hast earned my gratitude. But only if thou whilst cease thy needless guilt, agreed?” “Are you su-” “Certain.” Devon nodded. “Well, I can’t really argue against that, can I?” Turning his attention, to the writhing worldscape molding itself to his subconscious thoughts, a question rose from the back of his mind. “Um, you said you saw my dreams, right?” Sure, everypony dreamed, and everypony occasionally felt in control of a dream, but he had never stood within a dream knowing it was a dream. “Aye, I did.” “How much...er...how much did you look at? Did you...er…?” The unicorn felt his ears flushing, his mind making an idle mental note that apparently he could blush in dreams. Looking up to Princess Luna, he saw a reassuring smile. “I only came in to thy dreams to do what I could to help thee rest. I would dare not pry, everypony has the right to keep their dreams as close as they wish. Why?” A sly smile appeared on her lips at his obvious sheepish discomfort. “Oh come on, Princess,” Devon groused. “After all of this, what do you think I am worried about?” “Devon...” Luna hesitated with her words. She knew it carried a lot of risk, not for herself but to ask for such personal things from the unicorn. And it certainly broke every other normal rule for getting to know another pony. “Dost thou...erm...may I see more of thy dreams?” “Huh,” Devon blinked, tilting his head. “Well...I’m not sure, I mean even if I was sure,” he muttered, “how would I do it? I can’t exactly pick a dream, can I?” He laughed slightly, trying to deflect her attention from his awkward, yet understandable trepidation. For a moment, Devon realized just how strange life could be, presented with the chance to exactly show his dreams to the only mare that mattered, and he was balking! “When I am here,” Luna added. “All thou would need is to touch my hoof and thy dream will change. But I understand if thou art unwilling. Dreams are something very close to a pony’s heart, I would not seek for you to bare something that thou art uncomfortable sharing.” Between them, both knew that her curiosity was more than just idle or wanting to know him better, she had seen plenty of his personality through the hazy mists and shifting forms of his dreams. Luna had a greater stake. Devon hesitated. He knew if he showed more, he would have to show the dreams he carried for a mare like Luna. Embarrassment and a bit of guilty shame began creeping into his mind, immediately reflected in the candor and tone of the dream images all around him. Peaceful rest was replaced by cloying guilt and Luna reached out, placing a hoof on his shoulder. “Thou needest not worry, thou hast earned a reprieve and I will not think less of thee for thy dreams, Devon.” She smiled encouragingly. “Thou hast nothing to fear from me.” He looked up at her, following the cobalt leg up to her face a turquoise eyes and found courage. He faced the stars, he can handle this. Devon nodded. “Alright, but please try not to laugh,” echoed through the dream as he lifted a hoof and pressed it against Luna’s, swallowing the dream in rushing movement as he delved into the heart of his dreams. It was a place that is familiar, yet private, his deepest aspirations that normally ever came out to himself, now being released to reshape the reality of his dream. As the scene swirled, Luna tried to predict what might come. She was no stranger to the dreams of admirers, and while she never begrudged their dreams, they always unsettled her. Not for another pony to love her so deeply, but in that their affection always saw her cast into a role. So many times she had been made into one of a galaxy of things, a lonely dreamer, a fiery revolutionary, an aloof goddess, a carefree firebrand and any other of a thousand idealized versions of herself that a subject or suitor would make of her. Always fulfilling their whims and wishes, and rarely were hers considered. While she had the wisdom to not take such things to heart, Luna could never shake the feeling of being pushed into a role by all of these dreams. Everypony had a place for her, had a role for her to fit. It was their dreams, but they always lacked the space for her own. Braced, Luna closed her eyes when the swirling dreamscape came to a stop. As she opened them, the Princess expected one of these fates laid out before her, but what she saw was completely different. Before her sat dream constructions of Devon and Luna, but there was no setting, save for a single path, barely visible in an endless expanse, like a vast valley. While it lacked clear structure, what Luna sensed was untapped potential, an inescapable feeling of optimism and movement. Beyond any of the valley’s hills or horizons lay good things, but none were defined with clarity. “I...” Luna hesitated. “I don’t understand, is this thy dream, Devon?” “It is, Luna,” he replied in a tone of slightly sheepish confession. “Now you said you wouldn’t laugh, I’m holding you to that.” “But what does it mean?” Before her, the dreamlike visions of Devon and Luna walked down a path that flowed in front of each of their steps. In the fluid ripples of the dream, the Princess could share in and taste the emotions and ideas behind it. It was nothing like the minds of those who have dreamt of her before. It was so simple, yet so confusing, but Luna chose not to speak, instead she allowed the charcoal unicorn to handle the explanations. “It’s not really all that, Princess,” Devon shrugged. “All I really want is someone to walk with, I mean, on path of life and so on. Not just a road but-argh! You know what I mean, right?” His stumbled over his words, finding it difficult to discuss metaphors when they stood in front of him. “I don’t want to make you into anything, I just want you to be you, Luna.” “But thy dream has no destination? Tis but a road, is it not?” The Princess turned her gaze to the scene before her as it unwound. While it only vaguely represented a road visually, the movement of the two dream forms made the idea work. Colors and paths twisted ahead of them, the pair always moving forward, yet never dominating the path alone. Occasionally, an obstacle would rise in the path, and one dream construct would help another over or around it. Or the path would give one a divergence away from the other, but it always wound back into a single, shared line. “The destination really isn’t important, well, at least not any more important than any part of the road.” Devon smiled sheepishly. “The dream for me is to just find that destination with you. You’re too good for me to just want to say that I want just one thing with you. Remember that room with all the books?” On the corners of the scene, memories of the magical trips into literature fluttered to life. “All it was were the big moments, the climaxes, but I want more than just those single moments.” Devon sighed frankly. “I want to make memories, not just take something from a book that I saw and put you in it.” The dreamscape shifted, the road twisting into rolling hills. Occasionally, one of the two walkers would lead, but they never strayed far, even as the setting itself was nothing remarkable. “You’re better than just…moments, Luna.” All Devon received in reply was silence. Internally, he winced at the sheer lameness of his dreams for Luna. Yet, simultaneously, he was proud of himself for laying it out before her. If nothing else, he had nothing held back anymore, he had no more regrets. Just as he finally let the built-up tension with his mother go, so too did he give his affections voice. Just as he found the courage for his willpower to stand against fate itself, so too did he find the strength to give his dreams a voice. There was nothing left for him to do but accept the consequences, and even if she rejected him, Devon felt at peace with it. He tried, which was more than many ponies ever did, even when it wasn’t about a Princess. “I...” Luna chose her words carefully. “I’m not certain what I should tell thee...” And here comes the royal rejection. Please be gentle. “I would have expected thy dreams to have thee being more successful. Didn’t you hate thy job and station?” “Well, I suppose I do,” the unicorn muttered. It was true, he had a lot of parts of his life that he wanted changed, or improved. But when compared to a pony like Luna, or indeed anypony who might steal another’s heart, all of that seemed like so much detritus. “But that isn’t what this dream is about. Little too much about me there.” “But this is thy dream!” Luna responded with a broad smile and chortle. “Modest even here?” she pressed, her tone warming along with her expression. “Come, there has to be something here that is purely for thyself? I would not be offended, truly!” Before Devon could answer, the dream image of Luna spoke, her voice directed to Devon’s dreamlike counterpart. The words were unclear, or at least the body of the message was too soft to be heard until the dream Luna kissed dream Devon’s ear and giggled. “Very well, from henceforth, I shall call thee angel!” The real Luna turned to a beet red real Devon. For a moment, she considered words, but the silence and her slowly raising eyebrow were just so much better. “You promised not to laugh!” “But...!” “Promised!” It took Luna whole minutes to fight back the outright laughter into something akin to a smile, though scrunched and strained. “I would...that’s...very unique, Devon.” “Not quite what you want, I’m sure but,” the charcoal unicorn shrugged, rolling his shoulders and digging his hoof into the ground of the dream. "Thou art...” Luna paused, collecting her thoughts. She looked into his fixated pupils, seeing that everything he said was marked with infallible genuity. Lies were not possible in dreams. “Mercy me mine words, Devon, thou hast feelings most sincerest and true!" Luna pulled her head back, a gently quivering jaw trying to suppress an emerging grin. "I...why I see, in thine eyes when thou speakest." A grin of what, though? Humor? Pity? Emerging dominant and acquiring the opportunity to take full advantage of him? The dark unicorn sighed, his head lowering until it was level with the dream path. "Yes, m'lady." Devon turned his head away, pointing a single eye up to her, its pupil unable to resist widening into a proverbial testament of his words' genuineness. "I really do, I think you're the most wonderful mare in all of Equestria.” "But..." Luna coughed slightly, clearing her throat and thoughts. A peculiar curiosity nibbled at the back of her mind. "I hath only been resident in this new Canterlot yonder a single solar cycle, hardly much more. How could'st thou?" A better question emerged upon her lips. "What did'st I do?" Scrunching his face, Devon struggled for words. Even in a place where his innermost feelings and desires could manifest as crystal clear images, everything melted into a confused mess. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve never seen you before, I saw you when you came back to Canterlot, but I was just in the crowd and…” Again, he fell into muttering obstructions. How does one explain what makes one pony fall for another, to say nothing of something that makes a pony go to such lengths for one? “I don’t really know, Princess.” He fessed. “Maybe it’s something in how you do everything, maybe it’s something in how you talk. All I know is that I want more of it in my life and that I’d do anything to get it.” A long pause. “Well...almost anything. I mean, outside of dealing with stars and all.” “Of course,” Luna smiled, placing her hoof on the unicorn’s shoulder. “And I know thou must possess great willpower to resist such temptations. T’was thy heart’s desire and thou turneth it away, all for my sake.” “And to do it the right way, Luna,” Devon added, one of his forelegs moving up and grasping Luna’s. “I’m not going to take any shortcuts, you aren’t just a prize, Luna. You’re...” The unicorn’s voice fell off again, “I don’t even know how to put i-mmph.” Luna smiled down the length of her leg and hoof after silencing him. “Then do not try. Mayhap it is for the best that thou hast not thought of it so much. I can wait for thee.” Before he could answer, the colors around the two ponies shifted and twisted again, growing hazy and distant. Instantly, Luna recognized what was going on. “You are waking,” the Princess of the Night explained calmly, feeling her essence siphoning away from the dream. Normally, this would be the time where her final advice came out, a last minute pep talk to get one of her subjects over the problems haunting them, or to face their fears. A last bit of encouragement from the Princess before facing their trials alone. A final goodbye to those on their own quests and journies. “I’ll see thee soon.” * * * * * Surrounded in a crush of dancing ponies, Gina wriggled one way, then another, every forward step deflected two or three to the left. “Grrrff…we had to pick the front door, didn’t we?” Beside her, Jetstream was faced by a similar bog of bodies, his armor and uniform doing little to dislodge clumps of dancing ponies or to push through knots of conversation. Scanning the crowd, Jetstream tried to spot the telltale alabaster wings of Princess Celestia or, failing that, the tight clutch of ponies seeking her attention, normally the fastest way to find her in a situation like this. “Excuse me sir...ma’am...sir…” the cyan pegasus did his best to be polite as he shouldered another one of Canterlot’s nobility in an effort to reach the deeper parts of the Palace, away from the main ballroom floor. “Grr...come on, move it!” Gina barked, the orange unicorn finding a much more direct path, cutting between dancing couples and sliding underneath drinks and trays. “I didn’t just go through all of that nonsense just to get blocked by a crowd!” Finally, like two cider corks, the guard and mare popped from the crowded dance floor into the palace proper. It was still a complete bed of celebratory chaos, but at least now they could walk easily between the revelers. Picking up speed, the pair wove through room after room, finding nothing but the seemingly inexhaustible throng of partygoers. Irritation gave way to desperation with every room found to be without Celestia. “Horseapples!” Gina groused, stamping her hoof when even the throne room was found to be empty save for a number of tourists. “How d’ya lose two princesses in one night?!” Turning to the guard, she beckoned with her head. “C’mawn, she’s not here, let’s check somewhere else.” “Alright,” Jetstream said, turning to follow. “We should check back towards the main hall again, I bet she will have to come by there eventually.” By this point, the energy of the sprint outside had long since worn off, and their brisk trotting between rooms slowly collapsed into a trudging walk as adrenaline lost ground to exhaustion. Rounding another corner, the pair found themselves on a high roundabout balcony overlooking a ballroom, the same, Jetstream recalled, that was being prepared for the spell that would return Luna. By this time, it was simply another room full of ponies. With an aggrieved sigh, Gina slouched forward onto a railing, glumly scanning the crowd that she looked over mere minutes ago. With an inward groan, she counted the same groups over and over… The group in plain yellow gowns prattling on… A middle-age unicorn mare who is way too into the dance… A blue pegasus tucking into an entire apple pie by himself… A regal alicorn with a kind smile and flowing mane… A gaggle of young ponies doing all they can to escape the cacophony from the dance hall… Wait… “Hey, hey!” Gina shouted, straightening up and tugging Jetstream towards her with a foreleg. “There she is!” Down and across from the balcony, Princess Celestia strode purposefully, slipping past the crowds braying for her attention with practiced grace as she moved with cloud-like peace. “Let’s get down there and get her!” It took a firm tug from the pegasus to prevent Gina from simply vaulting over the balcony and to set her on a course for the stairs. However, the same kind of grip could not prevent the unicorn mare from simply barging down the stairs, clearing the last ten with a single leap, skidding around to keep her eyes locked on Celestia as the Princess strode across the ballroom. Unwilling to give up the chase, the guard and mare tore full bore into the crowd, Jetstream crossing it with airborne bounds while Gina simply bulldozed with her shoulder, determined strength blowing ponies aside. From the ballroom, it took only the briefest scan to spot the Princess, pausing only to speak briefly with a pair of Royal Guard before disappearing behind a door into one of the private hallways, away from the public, both of whom tightened protectively in front of the door as Jetstream and Gina approached. “Hold it,” the first said with weight and authority. “Princess Celestia has asked that nopony see her until she’s concluded her meeting. If you need to wish her a happy Hearth’s Warming, you’re just going to have to wait.” “Sir!” Jetstream straightened up, putting on his best official air of obsequiousness. “I respectfully request to pass, this is an urgent matter that requires the Princess’ attention immediately.” “Huh, Jetstream?” the elite guard cocked his head as he recognized him, more from the forceful ‘sir’ than anything else. “I would have thought you were in there already.” “Sir...I…what?” “Aren’t you Second Captain Stormblade’s assistant or...well I’m sure he’s dreamt up some really bad title for it.” The heavily armored black unicorn guard pursed his lips in recollection. “I’m amazed he’d have a meeting with Princess Celestia without you, actually. That guy is helpless without somepony keeping his ego under control.” “Oh yeah, well, I…” Jetstream laughed nervously. “Yeah, I got caught up with helping out this mare here and I meant to join up with him. Do you think I could get in to help him out, sir?” “Sorry, Private,” the elite apologized with a roll of his shoulders. “I bet Stormblade’d want you there, but Princess Celestia was pretty clear that nopony could get in until she was done. She looked real serious about it. Princesses’ order beats your bosses’ in this case.” Seeing the pegasus’ crestfallen look, the guard offered a small laugh that he would hope would be comforting. “Ah don’t sweat it, Jet, I don’t think it’ll be too long. Just stick around and we’ll grab her for you the instant she comes out. I mean, how long could Stormblade possibly talk?” You have no idea... “...thanks, sir,” Jetstream muttered, head falling slightly as he turned despondently back to Gina who instantly recognized the look. “Ya better not be about to tell me what I think yer gonna…” she warned, only to get a single nod from the pegasus. “Arrrghhhh!” Gina’s frustrated roar punctuated itself with a hoof slamming down onto the ballroom floor. “Now what are we gonna do?!” Snorting, she wheeled back towards the door. “Kick our way in?” she asked, perhaps a bit hopefully. “Throw these guards out of the way and ride their armor like sleds to save the day?” Really hopeful now. “And prove to Celestia that he’s right by appearing crazy and dangerous?” “Well,” Gina snickered, “I’ve been called that more than once already…” “And I don’t doubt it for a second, ma’am. But it might make things difficult for Luna and your friend.” With a another snort, Gina drug her hooftip over the floor. “Suppose ya got a point, wouldn’t really do Dev’s a lot of favors if I just wrecked up the shop, huh? Would be a good way to spice up the party though. Better than that song...” Disheartened, the orange mare flopped down onto the floor, her manic energy spent. A long pause passed between the two before she finally spoke again. “Okay, so when he gets done, what’s the plan?” * * * * * Emerging from the fugue first, Luna shook her mane as focus returned her vision and pushed away from the couch. Below, Devon stirred and writhed, small groans of involuntary discomfort sneaking from his lips as reflexive movements translated into pain onto his battered frame. A final attempt at a stretch wrenched his shoulder hard, temporarily filling the Archive with a yelp. Falling still and silent, the unicorn lay for a long, agonizing moment before his eyes fluttered open at last. As the orange irises danced around the room, Luna lowered her head to his level. Their eyes met and held for an eternity. Luna saw into those orange eyes, she saw the intense fatigue behind his eyes, the broken weariness of his battered body and mind, the shimmer of tears in a silent heartfelt show of thanks. But what she saw most, and what drew her in the very most was a small glitter. A glitter of appreciation. “Luna, I...” he began with a voice quivering in emotion. He looked stuck, halfway between yelling for joy and begging for forgiveness, but before he could speak further, Luna extended a hoof and pressed it on the top of his muzzle. “I know, Devon,” she replied in a tranquil whisper. Leaning forward, she pressed her forehead against his. “I know...” “I...” Devon curled inward, retreating his strewn hooves away from her, pulling them close against his chest as he finally met the Princess face to face. Despite speaking in dreams, the wash of her breath over his face reminded him just how real it all was. When he was just with Luna in the dream, it seemed all so inconsequential, and everything could be undone just by waking up. But by waking up, the consequences and risks of the world swelled. “I almost gave up. Trapped you again.” He spoke plainly, a frank confession as he recalled the abuse levelled on his mind and body. “The whole time, all I could hear...” He looked back up to her. “...Was the stars screaming at me to give up.” His eyes quivered softly as they fell into the turquoise irises reflecting back at him. “They wanted me to surrender, they wanted me to just give in.” He managed a small laugh at his own expense. “They had this whole thing set up. They thought they could put me right on the edge, hoping my willpower wouldn’t hold up.” “Monstrous,” Luna whispered. “And all because thou would not bend to their whims.” “-But one thing...” Devon interrupted. With a soft huff, he pulled his head level to her’s. “One thing kept me from doing it.” He looked firmly into her eyes, the corners of his cheeks ascending tenderly above curled lips. “I knew that I had to hold out for you. Even if,” he trailed off, “well, even if the stars offered me everything I wanted, or to take everything away from me, I couldn’t do it. ” The words rolling contemplatively in wait within Luna’s lungs fell away. She smiled in return, unable to offer anything other than a supportive nod, and settled a foreleg atop his collar. She gently pulled him in against her, letting his neck fall to rest against her shoulder. Devon lowered his face in shame. “I’m sorry, I...” he sniffed, a fresh tear rolling down his cheek. “I almost lost it when I saw you sent back to the moon. I wasn’t thinking.” Burying his face into the navy blue coat before him, “I just saw the chance to save you and I wasn’t thinking.” Devon repeated the final words over and over, aghast at himself in renewed guilt. “And yet...” Luna lowered her head to press down into his. “Should thou hath not done of this, I would be dancing ‘pon the puppet strings of another. And what would have become of thee I shudder think.” Feeling the aching unicorn clinging to her hammered the point home to Luna more clearly than any words. Minutes of silence fell on them again, broken only by the occasional sniff from either pony as raw emotion ran through them. As their emotional state waned, Luna at last broke the silence. “Devon, shouldeth...how do we...where upon doth we...?” Luna’s question sauntered into an uncertain hush, but the meaning was clear. Centuries of rule and life did not prepare Luna for this kind of impasse. Both were all too aware of the traps the stars could lay for them, and how easily a promise could be made into imprisonment. “I wish I knew, Luna,” Devon sighed, “because I want...” he trailed off, feeling a flush dance across his cheeks. “I want to be with you.” There was no poetry or overwrought flourish in his words, no dream images to emphasize his point, Devon was broken down and all that was left was pure honesty. “I’d do almost anything to get that. Well, except for...” he inclined his head towards the stars in the window. “Luna, I want us to choose something like this. I know what I would choose, but that doesn’t mean it has to be your choice as well.” “Aye, Devon...I wisheth to...” Luna rolled the word in her mouth like delicate food, “choose my path as well.” “I don’t even know if you want to choose it or not, if you want me to be with you, but it should be your choice. Not mine. Not anypony else’s. And certainly not some star.” Devon turned his head, lifting it from her shoulder to nuzzle against the side of Luna’s face before locking his eyes to hers once more. “I guess we’ll just take things one step at a time,” he concluded, then let out a groan as his body reminded him just how battered he was, “not exactly a storybook ending.” Before Luna could speak, the groan morphed into a smile, a deep and earnest one, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Luna’s own smile met his. It was so simple, but it had an appeal. To the Princess, buried and struggling with the pressures of royalty, such a plan of simply winging it as they go, ad-libbing and dealing with every struggle and delight as they come seemed heavenly. “So then, what is thy first step?” she asked, sniffling hard and swallowing back the final swell of emotion in her voice, pulling herself together. “Well, I suppose I have to start somewhere,” Devon said after a similar moment to collect himself. “I better to get back to the gala. If my mom found out I ditched her...” “All this for thy mother’s sake?” “Yeah,” he nodded, “but I have a hunch that it will make it easier for Princess Celestia to find me without much of a fuss.” “Mine sister? Whyforth would she seek thee?” Devon responded with a nod towards his bruised shoulder. “If that guard, or officer, made it to her before Gina did, he probably talked up a storm about me.” Devon tried not to let his voice betray too much worry, but his expressive eyes told Luna of the aching trepidation. “Let me speaketh for thee then!” Luna implored. “She is my sister and would listen to me!” Devon wrapped his hoof with Luna’s, looking wistfully down at the physical bond between them for a moment before he shook his head. “Maybe. But it’s only right if I am the one who tells her. And there’s plenty else I need to explain.” The unicorn looked down at his other hoof, still clad in the arcane brass gauntlet, the tool which condemned so many ponies already. “If I don’t do it now, I’d eventually have to do it later, I’d rather I just lay out everything to her about the stars, this gauntlet, everything.” Saying nothing else and with shaky legs, Devon finally rose, standing on his own at last, though braced strongly against Luna until he found his balance. “But if you want to help me, could you walk with me back to the gala? You don’t need to go in, but I’d like to walk with you.” Luna rose to her full height and smiled. “But of course, Devon, I shall be happy to join thee. And I shall come with ye further than the doors. I dost not wish Canterlot or mine sister to be worried any longer than it must.” And I will not let thee face this alone. * * * * * The door to the library swung open, the labored creak of timbers sending its call out into the Canterlot night. High above, a wing of Royal Guard immediately sighted on the movement and sound, altering their flight path to charge directly towards the disturbance. Rumors had been flying about a unauthorized curfew and rampaging unicorns, causing trouble for the guard. Coupled with the increasing alarm about no Princess sightings, the newly-arrived airborne guards were on edge. “Halt right th-ere?” the lead blurted, his voice falling into a confounded mumble as his brain caught up with his reflex. “P-p-princess Luna?” “Aye, tis we,” she replied, eyes lifted to the royal guard. Immediately, the small squad of pegasi had dropped in front of her, heads bowed respectfully. “Princess! We have been sear-” “Yes, yes, we hath heard thine orders from the Second Captain,” Luna said, her tone surprisingly low and subdued. She was tired, her heart was tired. “We shalt get ourselves to the Gala with all haste, but we shalt do it on jhoof. Do inform mine sister, we shalt arrive shortly.” “Yes ma’am!” the pegasus saluted, then paused. “Something vexes thee?” “N-no, your Highness, it’s just that...er...” the guard cleared his throat. “We didn’t know you had a companion.” Beside Luna stood a dark-coated unicorn who looked like he had been on the losing end of a fight with a whole battalion of royal guards armed with shears and frozen patches of sidewalk.. “Aye, this be our...” Luna paused in search of words, “our assistant in research. We had gone to yonder library for important research on...erm...mine banishment! We will explain everything forthwith, but get thee gone, we will arrive shortly at the gala!” “HIghness!” With another snappy salute, the air patrol lifted off and in moments were completely gone. “Assistant?” groused Devon with a sour smile and half-laugh. “After all of this, I’m just an assistant?!” “We had to thinketh of something!” Luna couldn’t fight a small giggle. “Wouldest thou prefer thy usual title? Behold mine Associate Assistant of Assis-” “Okay, okay, point taken!” Devon huffed, then picked up the pace to keep up with Luna. “Also, thanks for coming with me back to the gala. I appreciate it.” Luna tossed her mane in a regal display of friendly dismissal. “From what it seems, our exit nearly destroyeth the fun. T’would be a shame if we were to leaveth it as such. But Devon, aren’t thou worried about mine sister? Hither scoundrel Stormblade surely waits for thee at the gala...” Devon shook his head. “Not gonna worry about that. At least not right now.” Luna gave him a look of frank bewilderment. “Look,” he said as they wound past a corner and up the long path to the gala hall, where Pinkie’s song and the terrified shrieks of the young still boomed, “I know it’s going to be a problem, but right now, I’m choosing to enjoy this walk. And I’m hoping you’ll answer me something before we get there, Luna.” “What might that be?” the Princess responded, tone betrayed her guard. Devon grinned. “Are Associate Assistants to Assistants allowed to buy a princess a beignet? Donut Joe does always does good business on Haerth’s Warming, and I’m famished.” Luna let out a hollow, incredulous laugh. “Of all the things thou wouldst ask...dost thou even have a bit?” “Well, no, but I have a tab there. Hey, I work for the royal government and I get a discount,” he smirked with mock confidence, beaming with feigned slyness. “I would imagine that mine discount outshines thine,” Luna responded dryly. “Way to make me feel like less of a gentlecolt.” Devon attempted a carefree grin, but Luna was right. If he was at the gala as she feared, his assailant probably talked up his sordid past and ancestry to Princess Celestia already, complete with a few new chapters. Hopefully Luna’s presence might at least give him a moment to speak should it come to it. Weaving away from the main entrance and throng of partygoers, the pair found a little-regarded side door that served as the public entrance to Pony Joe’s. Pausing at the door, Devon looked at Luna with a small grin. “You know we are going to cause a stir, right?” “We art used to it,” Luna giggled and, as one, the two stepped into Pony Joe’s like they were the stars of the show. While the raucous song raged outside in its final crescendo, the donut shop was mostly populated by those seeking solace from the music, almost all of the young ponies were there, burying their faces in abject humiliation and suffocating it with pastries. There was a moment of stillness where Luna’s entrance went unnoticed, the casually brazen and understated entrance first drew a few looks to determine who let the icy draft in. Soon, those glances then turned into double-takes and dropped plates. With saucer-wide eyes, ponies watched as the Princess of the Night, with no pomp or fanfare slipped into one of the unoccupied tables, it would have been a stunned silence if not for the racket outside as the song finally came to a close. Across the room from Luna, Devon wormed his way towards the counter, where Dont Joe himself was locked in a stare at the princess as well. Devon was nearly swept away as a rush of ponies hurried to catch a glimpse, or out into the main gala hall to spread the word. While the attention and activity billowed into a tempest, Luna’s clout was enough that nopony dared approach her directly. “Hey, Joe,” Devon tapped his hoof on the counter. “C’mon, never seen a Princess before?” “Oh, heya Mist’uh Bookmark,” Joe said, remembering his position. “Nah, ain’t that, I just never seen a Princess gone missin’ come back here before. Everypony was wonderin’ where shot off to, but I knew she’d be alright, o’course, maybe it was my donuts what brought her back,” he added with a confident chuckle. “The usual?” “Yeah, double it,” Devon added. Joe ducked into the back and returned moments later with a plate heaped with fresh beignets, each mound of fried dough topped with tufts of powdered sugar that brought tears to the eyes. “Here ya go, Mistuh...uh...hey, Devon?” Joe began as he slid the plate towards him, cocking his head as Devon’s patchwork-holed pelt and bruises came into focus. “Ya alright? Or didja honk off the pony doin’ yer mane?” “Never better,” Devon smirked, “I owe you one.” “Nah, y’owe me more like…” A moment’s pause followed, just to aerate the count. “...seven, but it’s Hearth’s Warmin’ and I’m all fulla that generosity of the spirit. So ya owe me five.” Joe fixed Devon with a smirk and nod before shooing him off for another customer. Hustling away with the plate clutched in his teeth, Devon slipped into the seat across from Luna. If the gossip about Luna wasn’t flying then, it sure was now, and now that the song had mercifully come to an end, the word spread like wildfire. Ignoring it as best he could, Devon offered Luna a piece of beignet, sugar falling off of it. Might as well enjoy a small pleasure before a big disaster. “We never took thee for liking such messy fare, Mister Bookmark,” Luna chuckles as deluges of sugar soon coated both of their muzzles and lips. “Thou seemed so reserved about such things. We cannot see thee covered in sugar whilst working in the papers.” Luna allowed herself a small giggle as he took a bite. Almost instantly, his dark muzzle showed the dusting of sugar, made all the more noticeable with the contrast. “Well, it isn’t like I just want to get messy, but I-” “-Ah, m’word!” Interjected a familiar mare’s voice carried along the tumbling rattle of the door swinging open. “My Dev’n!” Before he or Luna could speak, a third figure flopped down at the table beside Luna and helped herself to a beignet. “I wonder’d where y’got to, can’t keep up with yer momma’s dance, right?” Devon’s mother let out a giddy laugh, fueled by renewed happiness in her son, three and a half mugs of cider and the kind of joy derived by dancing like a fool in public can bring. The food barely slowed down her talk. “Been here long? I heard that Princess Luna was back an’ turned up here’f all places!” “Well, actually, mom...” “Cn’ya imagine?” With a giddy chuckle, she nudged the Princess in the shoulder. “Goes missin’ an’ just finds ‘er way to the donut shop!” She gleefully snagged one of the beignets with an effortless, if slightly unsteady, display of telekenesis. “Er, mine due apologies, miss,” Luna tried. Even the Princess couldn’t divert her. “Figur’d she got peckish an’ couldn’ be bother’d t’party til’ she had her fill.” “Um...mom?” Devon made another attempt, but this one was interrupted by rapturous smackings as his mother chewed into the pastry. “Mmhercy these are good!” She grinned brightly with a glittery moustache of sugar crowning her upper lip. Looking upon her son, she suddenly stopped mid chew. “An’ff-whuh’ h’app’uh t’yuh, yuh, yuh...” She paused, rolled her eye up, and raised a forehoof motioning them to finish chewing before starting again. After a hefty gulp, she breathed in deep, leaning in close to his head, pivoting a hooftip on his chin. “An’ jus’ what inn’a name of Smah’t Cookie’s mane happned to yer face?! And yer fur?! Jumperin’ clog-dancin’ Celestia! Ya look awful!” “Mom I-!” Shouting already? Come on, turn that new leaf already. “-Mother.” Better. She paused, only taking a sly second to stealthily nibble a quick morsel of the beignet. She chewed quietly, attempting to hide the motion in the back of her jaw with a subtlety betrayed by a sugar-dusted face. “If I may introduce you.” Devon turned to the cobalt mare sitting beside him. “Please say hello to Princess Luna.” Motioning in alternating waves of a forehoof pointed between them, he directed his foreleg back to his mother. “Princess, this is my mother, Sara.” “Charmed,” Luna spoke calmly, an identical mask of powdered sugar on her muzzle. “Devon hath told us much about thy kind nature.” The stealthy morsel of sugared dough jettisoned from the buried recesses of her jaw, and propelled by the raw energy of a surprised gasp, careened straight into Devon’s eye. He reeled, flopping backwards out of the stool in feeble attempts to rub it out. The tablecloth shuddered ominously as he tumbled downward, then in a horrible wrenching tug, it pulled taut. The meaty thump of the dark unicorn landing haunch-first against the linoleum was immediately followed by the clamoring rattle of silver and porcelain as the cloth flopped upward, catapulting a salvo of malevolent silverware in a smooth arc. The canines, fangs, and serrated blades of knife, fork, and other cutlery sliced through the air in a metallic sheen, before implanting deep into the floor in a tightly-knit halo around Devon’s head and neck. Through clenched eyes, Devon sneaked a quick glance upward upon hearing the sound of a hollow echoing whirl, seeing the porcelain dish of beignets spinning mercilessly towards him in a blur that was bathed in the shop’s fluorescent lighting, a spiraling trail of sugar twisting in a sparkling helix behind it. The whole setup of his oncoming demise played out before him like a beautifully painted piece of abstract art, before a warped slash of black dimmed out the world upon contact. The echoing rhythm of the world immediately summoned back to his synapses, the muffled rumblings of surrounding clatter peeled away to the rattling noise of the plate vibrating to rest against the floor, all the remaining beignets resting comfortably atop the dish in the exact arrangement they were previously on the table. Devon groaned, rubbing his muzzle where the plate smacked him, and readied an embarrassed apology. The laughter of his mother overtook the surrounding chatter of the shop, including his own. Upon ascending from underneath the table, Devon was immediately greeted with a sarcastic stir of applause. He turned to Luna, as she looked with a look of mild concern, and sheltered amusement creeping through her suppressing willpower. But one quick jab from his chortling mom was all it took to loosen up those defenses, her own humored reactions purporting forth alongside his mother’s until Luna herself extended her piece of beignet to scrape some of the sugar that now decorated Devon’s face in taunting powder. Eh, at least he survived. Hey, even the beignets survived, too! Devon couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as he found himself trapped by his mother and Luna’s energy. It was such a rare sight to see the Princess so cornered and verbally disarmed. But in no time, Luna had caught up and soon enough she and his mother were going nonstop both in words and through the plate of beignets. Taking a bite of one, Devon simply savored his position on the margins, soaking up the low-level happiness that came from being with those he cared for most. “Luna!” another voice, this one much heavier, stirred him out of the moment. “Celestia!” Luna exclaimed. Behind Devon stood Celestia, flanked not only by her prize student and her friends, but the sneering shape of the Second Captain. But in the center of it all stood Celestia, quivering with withheld joy. Bounding across the table, Luna leapt to face her older sister, smiling sheepishly as they embraced. “Where did you go, Luna?” Celestia scolded, though the delight in her voice more than overwhelmed the temporary scorn. “Well, I hath...er...I think I may hath panicked somewhat. The change was so sudden that I had to flee.” Minutes passed in a flurry of affection, and soon the crowd of ponies were applauding and cheering, relief and delight hanging off of each whistle and clopping hoof. “I’m just happy you are back again, Luna. I’m sorry I didn’t give you enough time to recover. I shouldn’t have had this happen at the gala.” “Dearest me, no, dear sister!” Luna proclaimed. “Whilst I qualied at first, the relaxation be most comforting! I hopeth we would revel more!” By now, Celestia had melted away into a full, merry laugh, relief hanging off of every lift of her voice and movement. “Then we’ll revel! I, for one, could use it after all of this!” Celestia exclaimed, the crowd of ponies erupting into a raucous cheer. But before she could speak again, a cough interrupted the sisters’ reunion, penetrating the otherwise drowning cheers the entire gala had given them. From a short distance behind the two Princesses, Stormblade looked towards Celestia, then nodded once in Devon’s direction. “Oh, of course,” Celestia murmured, her tone uncomfortable and wary as lines of concern crossed her face again. For a moment, Celestia felt the burden of her years as an unwelcome voice of control from within reminded her to not ignore such duties. “I need to step away for a moment, Luna.” “What? What dost thou mean?” Luna said, her voice hovering between a laugh at the absurdity of the situation and a growing, gnawing concern. “I need to...speak with Mister Bookmark,” Celestia sighed. To her side, Second Captain Stormblade’s face broke into a toothy grin that dripped with poorly-repressed triumph and venom directly upon the dark unicorn. “Devon?” Sara asked, turning to her son with a confused look that was utterly ignorant of the gravity of the situation. “Celestia!” Luna gasped in a sudden plea, but before she could carry on or Sara could react further, Devon spoke. “Alright,” he said plainly, rising from the table and wiping his muzzle off of at least some of the powdered sugar. “Princess Luna, could you stay here and keep my mom company? This shouldn’t be too long.” Assuming a thousand years on the moon isn’t too long. Devon stepped towards Celestia quietly. Devon came up short when Luna’s hoof extended, looping onto his shoulder and preventing him from advancing.Looking across her leg, he saw a desperate plea. Don’t go. All Devon could do was shake his head once, but before he stepped out of her grasp, Devon lifted the pendant from around his neck and placed it in Luna’s hoof, pressing it hard into her grasp with his foreleg hooves before turning back to Celestia. “Ready whenever you are, Princess.” “Thank you, Devon,” Celestia spoke, though her voice was much different now. This was all too familiar to her. Devon’s face bore the same quiet, accepting resolve as another face from her foggy memories. Another unicorn, orange with fiery eyes. She had the same face when Celestia stood in this position before, and, blinded by her outrage, had condemned her to a terrible fate. “What have you done to my sister?!” Condemned her...on a whim of sporadic knee-jerk panic. “Orangina! You and your plans has come to an end! Nightmare Moon...Luna is banished! And you...you will...” But she didn’t resist. Not once. She didn’t plead or struggle, she just accepted it, just as this charcoal unicorn accepted it as well. A sudden calm enveloped Devon’s consciousness, as he found himself standing with hooftips gracing over the edge of a great precipice, himself now on the same proving grounds Gina had faced nearly a millenium before, but the fears were downplayed with the beckoning opportunity to just once live up to her brevity and will. She may have been more powerful in the horn, but to live up to her resolve...he couldn’t have leapt off that stool faster to stare down fate like he did. Even battered and still sporting the bruises of his hardships, Devon stood to take what was, at least in part, his responsibility. His turn. And if the oncoming generations of ponies were to look upon his visage in the statue garden for the next thousand years...well... ...Better make that statue look proud. Celestia stood tall over the accompanying guard. “Second Captain Stormblade,” she commanded in an unexpectedly assertive tone. “Do make sure the gala proceeds well,” She motioned him away with a wave of her head. “I’ll call you if I need anything.” “But Princ-” he started to protest before he calmed his voice and spoke more evenly. “Princess Celestia, given his nature and what he is capable of, this is exactly what I was warning you about!” His voice softened lightly as he tilted his head slightly askew. “Do you think that’s wise? I should be there to ensure that he doesn’t...” He did not speak out of duty, but out of desire to feed his spite, to gloat in his victory. He was not going to have his triumphant moment taken away. “I said, I’ll call you.” Celestia lowered her wings, taking a slow step towards the second captain. “Thank you for your concern, but we’re all weary and tired, especially you.” She turned to face down the street towards the reaching lights of the gala. Her voice hardened again. “Please do rest ,and do make a point to just enjoy yourself. Stick around.” The last part was not a polite offer, but a deliberately given command. A familiar purple unicorn swiveled in around Celestia from the doorway. “Princess Celestia!” she looked through the donut shop, concern weighing heavily on her voice. “What’s going on? Is something happening?” “Nothing at all, my dear student. Just a small private matter, and I’ll be right back. Please, all of you, enjoy yourselves, I’m sure Luna would love your company, you freed her after all.” Even as she spoke, however, the millennial exhaustion hung off of the Princesses’ words. “But Princess!” the purple unicorn protested. “If there’s something wrong with you or,” she faced Devon, seeing the missing tufts of his coat and his battered shoulder coated with bruises. “Or, or with...with Mister, uh, Bookend...” Devon coughed. “Bookma-” “-Please listen to your student!” Stormblade cooed, “And allow one of us to join you. If for no other reason but your safety!” “This is a bit of very old business between Mister Bookmark and myself. It’s something I should have handled very long ago.” Celestia shook her mane once, attempting to restore her demeanor but the success was limited. “And now is the perfect time to settle it once and for all. But I insist on it being between just us.” Celestia was firm as she turned away from the gala, Devon mere steps behind as they stepped through the respectful alley of bodies and into the darkly shaded castle halls. At the far end of the shop, mere steps from the private chambers, Devon spotted a fiery blur of orange struggling to get to the front of the bodies. He could only make eye contact with Gina for a fleeting second. She smiled, weakly but hopefully. Don’t blink, Devs. The castle gate shut behind them with a thundering clang that diminished into the rock-insulated echoes of rattling chains, casting them into complete black. It’s so embarrassing when your statue has the eyes closed…