They spent the day getting familiar with Tartarus’ layout and examining the cell doors. Blueblood regretted that the Nightmares’ daily feeding would take upwards of ten times as long to complete without his friends there to help. It was not hard work in the least; it was merely repetitive. Dull. Uninspired.
Scoop, slop, plop. Scoop, slop, plop. Scoop, slop, plop.
Mandible pushed the pot of gruel before him as they walked through the Bête Noire hallway. The changeling twitched his nose at the monsters. “So, these guys give bad dreams about monsters?”
“Well, from what I can tell, their Nightmares generally focus around one terrifying antagonist.” Blueblood lifted his ladle and dumped gruel inside another cell. Scoop, slop, plop. “For children it can be a boogeyman, for adults it can be an event or person.” Scoop, slop, plop. “Or vice versa, as is often the case.”
Mandible nodded. “And the Night Terrors, what about them?”
“They focus on one idea,” Blueblood said. “It usually has something to do with a concept that the victim fears, such as loneliness or failure.”
Mandible licked his lips. “Like Lady Rarity’s dream from a while back. The one you saved her from.”
Blublood looked over his shoulder. “She told you about that?”
“Yeah,” Mandible said. “It was pretty much all she talked about the next day.” He cleared his throat, and spoke with a voice that was spot-on Rarity. “‘Oh, darling, those dreadful spider-ponies! That horrid web! I shan’t believe, perish the thought, lackaday!’”
“I heard that!” Rarity shouted from the next hallway. “These walls echo, you know!”
Mandible blushed. “Well, you get it. The Phantasms?”
Blueblood gave a chuff of laughter. “I thank you for reminding me to watch what I say in these halls. The Phantasms, from what Luna tells me, play against a pony’s fears about themselves.”
Mandible’s multifaceted eyes dipped down to the gruel. “I don’t follow.”
“Well, say a rich pony may worry about becoming a greedy miser,” Blueblood said. “Whether their fears are founded or not, they will still worry about it. A Phantasm might use that to craft a dream that feels like a twisted version of A Hearth’s Warming Carol.”
Mandible digested that for a moment. “Those are things all of us have, aren’t they? Boogeymen, fearful ideas, personal worries?”
“I’m afraid so,” Blueblood said. Scoop, slop, plop. “It’s what makes these creatures so dangerous.”
Mandible looked into one cell. A Bête Noire, with its hairball-esque ears and sharp teeth, stuck its tongue out at him. “So why are they dangerous?”
Blueblood rolled his eyes. “Didn’t we just have a whole conversation about—?”
“No,” Mandible said. “No, we talked about what made them dangerous.” He shook his head. “Not about why they’re dangerous.”
Blueblood walked forward. Scoop, slop, plop. “Now it’s my turn to say I don’t follow.”
“’Kay. Um.” Mandible fluttered his wings. “Our disguises are what make changelings dangerous. Right?”
“And the love-sucking, and the sheer numbers, and the mind-control.” Blueblood raised an eyebrow. “No offense intended, of course.”
“Well, of course not, it’s the truth.” Mandible sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth. “But why we’re dangerous… that’s our willingness to do anything to get love.” He placed a hoof against his chest. “If we didn’t try to steal love, we wouldn’t be dangerous. Just capable.”
Blueblood felt a shiver run down his spine. “But you don’t need to steal love.”
“No, I don’t.” Mandible shook his head. “I’m not doing that anymore. I won’t. So, I’m not really dangerous.” He swallowed. “Just capable.”
“Well,” Blueblood said, “let me be the first to say that I’m glad you’re on our side.”
“Sorry, Bub.” Mandible grinned. “That was Princess Celestia.”
His ear flicked down. “Which brings me to my question: Why are the Nightmares dangerous?”
Blueblood glanced at a Bête Noire as he passed it. It snarled. “They wanted their own kingdom, and their leaders were willing to build it on the ashes of Equestria.”
“This Shadowfright guy?’ Mandible asked.
“And later, Scorpan.” Blueblood sneered at the Nightmare. Scoop, slop, plop. “And now, the both of them.”
Mandible snorted. “If you think we can, you know, believe Scorpion.”
“Scorpan.” Blueblood shook his head. “He was far too smug to be lying.”
Mandible sighed. “Well, yuck.” He looked around as they came to the end of the hallway. “So, they covet Equestria. Kinda hard to think up a win-win situation for that.”
Scoop, slop, plop. Blueblood set the ladle in the bottom of the pot. “So instead we have Tartarus.”
They came to the outer loop, where they ran into Redheart and Vinyl Scratch. Vinyl’s sunglasses hung low on her snout. “Where did they even find all these losers?”
“You didn’t have to punch that Nightmare, Vinyl,” Redheart said. “I think throwing it against the wall was enough.”
“He had no right to say that about Lyra!” Vinyl ground her teeth. “She’s not a wuss. She never was.”
Blueblood bowed his head to both of them. “I never thought I’d hear you defend Princess Heartstrings.”
“Yeah?” Vinyl growled. “She never needed it before now.”
Mandible shuffled his feet. “She might have needed it around me.”
A lull entered the conversation. Blueblood sought to fill it in any way he could. “So, how goes the feeding?”
“Good,” Redheart said. “We just finished a row.”
“Ah. Same with us,” Blueblood said.
Mandible nibbled at the air. Vinyl raised an eyebrow at him. “What the hay are you doing?”
“I sense something…” Mandible licked his lips. “A flavor I haven’t tasted since…”
He looked at Blueblood and nibbled some more. He turned to Redheart. His eyes widened. “Whoa. Whoa, awkward…”
Mandible tilted his horn towards Vinyl. “Hay. I just remembered that I needed your help with something unspecific.”
Vinyl scowled. “Do I even know you?”
Mandible zipped up behind her and shoved her down a hallway. “Time for that later,” he hissed. “This is an emergency!”
Vinyl cocked an eyebrow and examined Redheart. She jumped back. “Oh. Oh! Ahah.” She grinned and waved as Mandible carried her off. “Um, later guys! See you at supper! Have fun!”
Blueblood and Redheart stood side by side, their expressions blank. They looked at each other.
“What—?” Blueblood began.
“I think…” Redheart gnawed her lip. “I think they mean that you”—she pointed—“and I have something to talk about.”
Blueblood shifted his weight between his hooves. “Things… do seem a bit awkward between us, don’t they?”
“A little.” Redheart turned her eyes to the smooth, rock wall. She brought her face towards Blueblood suddenly. “How are you? Is it as bad as you thought?”
“In some ways, no.” He sat down and brought his wings close against his sides. “In some ways, it’s worse.”
She mirrored his actions and sat across the hall from him. He continued, “I haven’t been so much lonely as frustrated. I realize that Bluebones will soon be gone, Luna will return to her duties, and I shall be left alone.” He turned his head to look down the hall. “In here. With the Nightmares.”
He shut his eyes. “I’m sleeping right on top of the pony that killed my mother.”
“Your mother—” Redheart brought her hooves to her mouth. “Oh, Blueblood, I’m so sorry!”
Blueblood turned back to her. “Oh. You didn’t know. Well, this was a fine way to tell you, wasn’t it?”
“It’s just, I knew you were distant from your father, and I thought—” She moved to stand, froze, and then settled back down. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for.” Blueblood rubbed his forehead. “I should apologize. You didn’t come here so that I could dump my troubles on you.” He spoke quickly, before she could say anything. “At the least it isn’t as difficult as I had imagined. It won’t be as long as everything runs smoothly.”
He shrugged. “All I really need to do is make sure the enchantments hold on the cell doors, and feed the monsters.” He chuckled without a smidgen of mirth. “That would take all day alone, but it can be done.”
Redheart brushed her pink mane behind her shoulders. “You’ll still be able to work on your projects, won’t you?”
He shook his head. “I gave ownership of Bluelight Special to Twilight, everything belongs to her.” His eyes widened. “Which, in hindsight, may have been a mistake.”
Redheart opened her mouth, blew a breath through her lips, and then finally spoke. “Didn’t you bring anything important to you?”
“There wasn’t anything important that I could bring.” Blueblood stomped a hoof. “What? Was I going to bring my workshop? A few materials? A couple of tools? How long would they have lasted?
“Was I going to run around Equestria abducting my friends? Would I have locked them in an empty cell and let them out for parties?” He lifted his forelegs. “Could I ask Celestia to move Tartarus to sit in the mountain beneath Canterlot? Could I have protected what I love in any way, shape, or form?”
He let his legs drop at his sides. He shook his head and walked away. “I’m sorry, Redheart. Forgive me. I’m not quite in the talking mood.”
Redheart stood as he retreated down the corridor. She held a hoof out to him and gritted her teeth. “But…”
She kicked out with her rear legs, hitting the wall behind her. “Darn it!”
Flash Sentry pushed the pot of gruel along behind Rarity. She levitated the scoop into another Night Terror’s cell.
Scoop, slop, plop.
Rarity twitched her ear towards Flash. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen anything from Twilight?”
“No.” Flash growled at a Night Terror that was blowing raspberries at him. It drifted to the rear of its room. “With what we’ve learned today, I don’t know if that’s a bad thing or not.”
Scoop, slop, plop.
“Well,” Rarity said, “well, we have a solution. It’s only a matter of time before—”
“I know,” Flash said. “We’ve talked about the solution. We’ve done nothing but talk about the solution. I’m mumbling the solution in my sleep nowadays.” He extended his wings halfway. “I’m getting tired of talking. I wanna do. I’m ready to do.”
Rarity frowned at him. “I trust the Princess’ wisdom.” Scoop, slop, plop.
“I do, too.” Flash’s hoof slipped off the edge of the pot. He stopped, took a breath, and slowly started to push it again. “Celestia and Luna both.”
The clomp of hooves echoed down the corridor. Redheart trotted along the opposite direction, heading back for the heart of Tartarus. She nodded as she passed, though she kept her gaze forward.
Rarity squinted at the nurse. She drew her head up and gave her lips the smallest of puckers. “Redheart?”
Redheart stiffened as she turned. “Yeah?”
“Would you mind assisting me?” Rarity shook the ladle in her grasp. “I find myself out of practice in slopping Nightmares.”
Redheart took a step forward, then halted with a hoof in the air. “What?”
“Oh, just take the ladle.” Rarity hovered the tool over to Redheart. “Flash, I can take the pot from here.”
Flash relinquished the pot. His eyes shifted from Rarity to Redheart as he made his way down the hall. “Okay, then.”
Once he had left, Redheart began to spoon gruel to the prisoners. Rarity pushed the pot along on its creaky wheels. “Do you think you’re ready to save Lyra from her Nightmare?” Rarity asked.
“I should be.” Scoop, slop, plop. “I owe it to her.”
Rarity watched the ladle carefully as it rested in Redheart’s telekinetic grip. “But that’s not why you’re angry, is it?”
A crack ran down the ladle’s handle. Redheart swallowed. “Darn it.”
Rarity leaned against the pot. “Sometimes we need somepony to talk to in order to relieve our pent-up frustrations. You don’t really have anypony like that, do you?”
Redheart bit the inside of her cheek. “What makes you say that?”
“Your best friends are Lyra Heartstrings and Vinyl Scratch, dear.” Rarity walked up to her and placed a hoof on her shoulder. “Good ponies they may be, but gentle and caring they are not.”
“Oh, you can just shut up while you’re ahead!” Redheart snapped. She covered her mouth with her hooves. “I mean—”
Rarity waved a hoof, her expression serene. “Go on, darling.”
Redheart dropped her hooves to the ground. “Well, Lyra is kinda a jerk sometimes, but she’s got this… core, underneath. She only shows it when she has to. But…” She shook her head. “But I guess you’re right. I can’t just go up to her and pour my heart out.”
She lifted the ladle. Scoop, slop, plop. “But I can’t exactly pour my heart out to you, either. I hardly know you.”
Rarity sighed as she pushed the pot after Redheart. “Sadly, true. I will say that anything you would wish to speak would remain between the two of us, as long as you keep it quiet enough that it doesn’t echo.” She lifted an eyebrow. “We don’t have to be strangers, you know.”
Redheart said nothing. Scoop, slop, plop.
Rarity frowned. “I’ll drop it after this: If you keep your frustrations pent up, they’ll let themselves out eventually. And you’ll regret it when they do.”
Scoop, slop, plop. Scoop, slop, plop. “Hypothetically speaking…”
“I can work with hypotheticals,” Rarity said.
“If there is someone hurting,” Redheart said, “and there is something I need to say, how can I know when it’s the right moment to say it?”
Rarity thought for a few minutes. Scoop, slop, plop. Scoop, slop, plop. Scoop, slop, plop.
“I don’t think there will ever be a ‘right moment’,” Rarity said.
Redheart rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the great, insightful answer.”
“I mean that there is no magical ‘right time’ where the person is willing to listen and you feel brave enough to get it out.” Rarity stood beside the pot of gruel. “You have to take the moment you have and make it the right moment.”
“What if he won’t listen?” Redheart said. She extended her wings as she turned to Rarity. Her eyebrows peaked. “What if—”
“That’s up to him, isn’t it?” Rarity took the ladle from Redheart and tossed gruel into the last few cells. Scoop, slop, plop. “Once you’ve done your part, you can only hope and pray. Isn’t that right?”
Scoop, slop, plop. Redheart stared at the spoon as it danced through the air. “It doesn’t feel like it’s enough.”
“It won’t.” Rarity shrugged. Scoop, slop, plop. “But it could make a difference.”
Scoop, slop, plop.
Redheart and Rarity came to the end of the line. The nurse hung her head and looked at Rarity out of the corner of her eye. “Thanks.”
As she walked away, Rarity called out, “I hope you get your problem sorted out!”
“Me, too,” Redheart said.
Blueblood walked down a mostly-empty corridor. It had one prisoner, and one occupant besides. Bluebones sat some distance away from Charity’s cell, his empty eyes watching from afar. He flinched as Blueblood walked alongside him and sat.
“Well,” Blueblood said, “here we are at last.”
Bluebones tilted his head. “Will you be strong, boy?”
Blueblood angled his body to face his great-grandfather. “I beg your pardon?”
“Will you be strong?” Bluebones tapped his hooves together. “Will you wake each day ready to keep Tartarus confined? Will you resist the urge to leave, to escape in some fashion? Will you keep your honor? Will you be strong?”
Blueblood looked at Charity’s cell. She was leaning against the wall, peering through the bars of her door. Dark, wet tracks ran down her cheeks.
Blueblood bowed his head. “Yes.”
“No.”
Both of thee Bluebloods looked at Charity. She brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “Being strong isn’t the same as being unfeeling. You’ll just be nothing. You’ll have nothing to be strong for.”
Blueblood sucked in air. “No, perhaps not.” He stood and walked down the hallway.
Bluebones pulled his hood up over his head. Charity reached a hoof out towards him. “Bluebones… I’m so sorry I lied to you. I didn’t want to hurt anypony.”
Bluebones sunk deeper into his cape. “Looks like neither of us were strong.”
Her wings splayed against the wall. She lowered them until her wingtips touched the ground. “Maybe we’ll have a second chance.”
“No.” Bluebones walked away, his head low. He clutched at his chest as he stumbled. “Oi won’t.”
Redheart sat at the edge of the central room. Evening had come outside, but inside it was still that same dim, torch-lit glow. Most ponies were settling down for the night in makeshift beds.
Rainbow Dash was doing a few late-evening wing-ups. Mandible performed impressions of various celebrities to entertain Spike, Pinkie, and Vinyl Scratch. Wishbone and Rarity were discussing various fashion applications for gemstones. Luna and Flash Sentry were discussing Nightmare combat techniques in hushed tones.
Blueblood sat alone, staring at the floor.
Redheart stood up, puffed her chest out, and started walking towards him.
“Lights out,” Luna said. “We have an early start tomorrow.”
Ponies settled into cots and torches dimmed.
Redheart pulled her blanket up to her neck. She stared at the vaulted ceiling, which disappeared into darkness above. She sniffed as she felt a stinging feeling behind her eyes.
An hour passed.
There was a groan from a few feet away. Redheart lay quietly until it sounded again. Blankets rustled as a silhouetted form tossed in its sleep.
She got up and approached it. Blueblood rolled over, a firm frown on his muzzle. He groaned again. “Mom…”
Redheart chewed the inside of her cheek. She glanced at Luna, who was snoring up a storm on the opposite side of the room. She caught a glimpse of Flash’s orange coat a few steps away.
She turned back to Blueblood.
She lay beside him, lit her horn, and fell fast asleep.
Blueblood walked through the streets of Canterlot. It was a bright, busy summer evening with performers, vendors, and all manner of interesting people up and about. He smiled as one griffon acrobat tumbled through the air with his wings tied to his torso. An earth pony juggled fiery torches with a flick of his tail. A pegasus swam though a large pool as if she was flying through air.
Blueblood rolled his shoulders. His wings felt itchy. He craned his neck to look at his back and found it bare. “What?”
He spun around, trying to get a better look at himself. “What? What!?”
His wings were gone. “How absurd,” he mused.
His ears perked up. “Oh! How silly of me. I’m dreaming.” He looked around. “Well, as long as I’m here, I might as well enjoy the sights.”
He felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned, and found himself face to face with Redheart. He blinked. “I don’t suppose it’s odd that she’s here.”
Redheart’s hair was tied up in an elaborate braid. A strand of pearls wrapped around her neck. “Well, funny story about that, actually.”
Blueblood shook his head, a wry smile on his face. “Alright. I get it, dream! Now, when’s Twilight going to show up? Maybe Luna? Oh, shall this be my great-grandfather’s inaugural appearance in my unconscious?”
Redheart placed her hoof against her forehead. “No, I mean I’m actually—”
“Well, until they show up,” he said, taking her hoof, “perhaps I can show you the wonders of the Blueblood unconscious. Over there we have the performing troupes, here we have the greasiest carrotdogs known to ponykind, there’s the shopping…” He tapped his chin. “Come to think of it, we don’t even have to stay in Canterlot. I control the entire dream!”
He waved his hoof. Nothing happened.
He blinked. “This isn’t Saddle Arabia.”
“Blueblood,” Redheart said, “I don’t think this is really a dream.”
Blueblood’s head snapped around as a large, crashing sound came from a few streets over. “Oh, no.”
“I think this is a Nightmare,” Redheart said. “If you can just remain calm, we can—”
Blueblood wasn’t standing next to her anymore.
“Darn it.”
Blueblood galloped through the streets. He shoved pedestrians aside, sometimes with a gentle nudge of telekinesis, sometimes with a quick kick from his hooves. He tumbled headlong into an intersection, and landed on his face beside a carriage.
He stood quickly. He found himself crowded out by a wall of ponies who were staring at the carriage in question. “Move—move aside, please.”
They ignored him. “I said get out of my way!”
He pushed through the crowd. Many backed away the minute they saw his determined eyes, but most required physical relocating. “Move! Move!”
Blueblood came out on the other side and let out a small gasp. The carriage lay on its side. It was crumpled, having collapsed from its own weight. The driver sat a few feet away, his head wrapped in bandages. Blueblood ran up to him and shook him by his shoulders. “Where are they!?”
The driver winced and clutched at his head. “I don’t know.”
“What happened!?”
“The wheel”—the driver pointed at the wreckage—“the wheels all came loose. The whole thing spun outta control.”
Blueblood clutched his chest, his breath shallow. He turned towards a Royal Guard who had shown up while he wasn’t looking. “They’re still in there!”
“Relax, son,” the guard said. “They’re on their way to the hospital. They’re in good hooves.”
“You don’t understand,” Blueblood said. “My parents were in there!”
“Son, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down—”
“I know how this ends!” Blueblood cried. “She’s already gone!”
He sat down and rocked back and forth. “This… is just a dream. It’s all fake. I can just change it—”
“It’s real, alright.” Blueblood looked up to see a facsimile of his father walking out of the carriage, his wooden leg thumping behind him. “It’s as real as the day it happened.”
“Shut up!” Blueblood shouted. “What do you know? You’re not even my father!”
“No, I’m one better.” Not-Bluemane cracked his neck. “I happen to know you very well, Blueblood. I know that this”—he waved his hoof—“is all your fault.”
The fake chuckled. “You could have spent one last night with her, but instead you chose to lollygag around town alone. And then afterwards with the fights with your father, and the disrespect to all around you, and the self-focus.” It grinned. “This is where Blueblood began, it seems.”
It walked up to Blueblood. “A failure, a fraud, and now, alone.”
Blueblood gripped it by its collar. “What are you?”
Bluemane frowned. “Not obvious enough?” Its face changed slowly, the gray coat changing to white. “Maybe I’ll choose a face that you actually listen to.”
Blueblood found himself staring into a mirror. His reflection snickered. “Yourself.”
Blueblood threw the reflection away. The prince backed away as the thing got to its feet. “I’m you. I’m your own, personal reality check. I’m the one who’s going to tell you exactly what you’re doing wrong today.” It pursed its lips and looked up. “Everything.”
Blueblood shuffled back. “Get out of my head.”
“I am your head!” Blueblood’s reflection snorted. “Who else would understand you as well? You are alone, you are dismal, you are abysmal.”
Blueblood got to his hooves. His shoulders tightened.
“You have alienated all your friends,” the reflection said. “You have destroyed your own life and replaced it with emptiness. It’s really all you deserve.”
Blueblood threw a punch. He felt it connect against his own jaw. He tumbled back, nursing a sore chin.
Not-Blueblood looked down at him. “You’re hurting yourself, Blueblood. You understand that now.” It looked into the distance, its eyes dim. “Now it’s all you have left. You’re a failure.”
“No, you’re not!”
Blueblood and his reflection turned their heads. Redheart strode through the crowd like it wasn’t even there. With consideration, Blueblood realized it was not.
“You’re not a failure.” Redheart stomped her foot. “You’re not even alone. Look at how many of your friends came today. Look!”
The ponies, and dragon, that had shown up that day flashed through Blueblood’s mind. His reflection shook its head. “They didn’t come for him. They came because their friends were taken.”
“And isn’t that why you’re here?” Redheart said. “To keep that from ever happening again? Aren’t you the only one who can keep the Nightmares locked up?”
Blueblood’s reflection walked up to her, blinking back tears. “He’s messed up so many times, with so many things. He wasn’t there when it mattered. He was wrong when it mattered.”
“Aren’t you here now?” she asked. “Doesn’t it matter now? How can you be a failure as long as you keep trying!?”
“Because some things go wrong no matter what you do!” Blueblood’s reflection shouted. “Sometimes you don’t get a chance to try again!”
It turned away. “He’s learned from his mistakes. He’s learned that he’s a failure.”
Redheart shut her eyes. Tears leaked out from between her lids. “Do you remember the car ride?”
Blueblood’s reflection looked over its shoulder. “What?”
“When we were racing after Alma and Chrysalis.” Redheart tilted her head. “I was the only one who could help. I was the only one whose magic could reach the car without hurting anypon—anybody.” She pursed her lips and touched her pearl necklace. “I didn’t think I could do it. I was so scared.”
She walked around Blueblood’s doppelganger and touched its chest. “But you believed in me. You knew what I needed to do. You knew I could do it.” She stood there for a moment, just resting her hoof against the doppelganger. “I couldn’t believe in myself, but you believed in me. And so…”
She shrugged. “You were so certain of me. You were so sure I could do it. I could see that you knew I could. So even if…”
She reached down and took the doppelganger’s hoof in her own. “Even if I couldn’t believe in myself, I was able to believe in you. You gave me strength. You shared your own certainty.
“So”—she laughed—“so I almost crashed their car anyways. But we were able to save Alma. We were able to save so many people.” She blinked away a few tears. “And I could never have done anything without you.”
She reached her hooves behind the doppelganger’s head, pulled it forward, and pressed her lips against it.
The sounds of the crowd fell away. The carriage disappeared. The sun set over a sleepy Canterlot as the two figures kissed in the intersection. Blueblood wrapped his forelegs around Redheart, though he didn’t remember actually standing up.
He didn’t really care, at that moment.
Redheart pulled her lips away from his. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, her cheeks red. “Whoo. So, um, you’re not a failure. Okay?”
Blueblood blinked. He blinked a little more. His mouth opened and closed a few times as his cheeks blushed brightly. “I might require a bit more convincing.”
She tilted her head and frowned. Her downturned mouth slowly crept upwards. “Subtle as a freight train, Blue Eyes.”
“Well, I didn’t exactly mean—”
He was cut off as Redheart kissed him again. A moment later saw her taking a step back and looking Blueblood over head to tail. “So, you were gonna show me around your unconscious version of Canterlot.”
Blueblood blew a deep breath through his nose. He grinned and held his hoof out to her. “You know, I know a place with a most excellent view of Ponyville.”
She took his hoof as they set out across town.
Blueblood wiggled his shoulder blades as his wings extended. “Ah, there they are. It’s so nice to feel complete again.”
Redheart smiled. “Yeah, you look kinda little without them.”
Blueblood shook his head. “I am in no way little.”
“Like twice as skinny.” Redheart wiggled the hoof that wasn’t holding Blueblood’s. “Like an awkward teenage Blueblood.”
“Awkward?” Blueblood raised an eyebrow. “Are we referring to the same stallion?”
“Makes me wonder what you’d look like without a horn.” Redheart chuckled. “Probably short.”
Blueblood smirked. “Well, I’ll have you know that you look just as lovely with or without your horn and wings.”
Redheart felt her forehead. It was bare. “Whoa. When did that happen?”
“Some time before the dream started.” He shrugged. “I thought something was different when you arrived, but I couldn’t put my hoof on it. It seemed odd that you would appear that way in my dream.”
Redheart tilted her head back. “You’ve been dreaming about me?”
“Once or twice.” Blueblood gave her a half-smile. “I am a very conflicted pony, at times.”
“I can guess.” Redheart looked back at the now-empty intersection. “When I saw you tossing and turning in your sleep, I thought you were under attack.”
“No attack but of my own making, it seems.” Blueblood sucked on his lip. “I don’t think the battle’s over yet.”
“No,” Redheart said. “But now you have ammunition.”
They sat on a bench. They were near the edge of the mountain, looking down on the land of Equestria. Ponyville lay in shadows, happy lights shining from windows.
“So,” Blueblood said, “that moment in the car…”
Redheart smiled. “You were kinda awesome.”
“So were you.” Blueblood said. His and Redheart’s shoulders touched as they sat close beside each other. “That was the moment when…?”
“When I discovered you were a world-class hottie?” Redheart snickered. “Naw. I knew that already. But it was the first time I thought you were something really special.”
Blueblood let out a single laugh. “I’ve admired you a great while. It was a good part of my conflicted self. What kept you from saying something?”
“The usual.” Redheart sighed. “Fear, nervousness, anxiety. Then at your going away party… I tried.”
Blueblood eyed his hooves. “It is probably for the best that you didn’t. I was caught up in… something for quite some time.” He grimaced. “I probably still am.”
“Twilight?”
Blueblood’s eyes widened. “Well, I—”
Redheart shuffled her hooves. “She’s only a princess, and Celestia’s personal student, and super smart, and super—”
“I care a great deal for Twilight.” Blueblood took Redheart’s hooves in his own. “But I have to learn to let go.”
He looked her in the eyes. “I’ll help save her, and all of them, because they’re my friends. And it’s the right thing to do.” His brow furrowed. “And because it’s my job.”
Redheart searched his blue eyes. “You’re really stuck with it, huh?”
“Yes,” Blueblood said. “And I shall perform it to the best of my abilities.”
Redheart’s head gave a slight nod. “Not without help.”
They kissed on that bench, overlooking Ponyville. The stars appeared in the sky one by one, and the soft sounds of the calm city clattered all around.