Beware of Luna… Why is it that ponies kept telling him that? Gosling came to a halt and looked around the hallway intersection. He drew in a deep breath, feeling shaken and unsettled, then continued down the hallway when he saw nothing. He was taking a little walk while Princess Celestia took a shower and freshened herself up.
The young colt was distracted, worried, and a bit tense at the moment. His mother was coming to Canterlot and she would soon find out that he was courting Princess Celestia. He wasn’t sure how his mother was going to react. Just the thought of his mother coming to Canterlot left him feeling shaky and nervous. He paused mid-step, extended a wing, and stuck his head under it, trying to check his wingpits for any signs of stinkiness.
It was a constant, almost paralysing fear. To be stinky when entertaining the company of one’s beloved monarch. He pulled his head from beneath his wing, snorted, flapped both of his wings a few times hoping to get some fresh air beneath them, and then continued down the hall.
Gosling, a colt that existed upon the very threshold of adulthood, was quite a nervous fellow at the moment. He had been staying in Princess Celestia’s private apartment due to a rather unique arrangement set up by Princess Cadance. Living in such close contact with the princess, he had to become a super equine. Perfect, unfailing manners. No belching. No farting. Somehow, he had to exist and function as if his equine body did not produce gas.
Which was why he was out having a bit of a walk while his intended showered. He gave his tail a few good shakes, flicking it from side to side, hoping that any lingering smells could be shaken out. He was dying from the pressure and tension caused by his performance.
As he continued back to Princess Celestia’s chambers, Gosling noticed that he crossed into a strange darkness. The lamps still worked, but the darkness in the hallway almost seemed oppressive. It was thick, black, and somehow oily, a living thing. The lamps produced only a small circle of light. He blinked a few times, wondering if the stress was getting to him. The lights seemed just as bright as ever, but it seemed as though the light was just being swallowed up by the night.
Private Gosling, a communications specialist from the signal corps, felt his blood run cold. Something didn’t feel right; his feathers seemed itchy. He paused, lingering in the tiny island created by the electric lamps upon the wall, and peered down the hallway. Something didn’t feel right. The darkness around him swirled like a living thing, as if the hallway had somehow become a giant lava lamp. It was unsettling to say the very least.
Shuffling his hooves, Gosling crept from one island of light to the next, shuddering as he could feel the darkness slithering over his skin. The castle was old, and old places tended to be creepy. He didn’t know why this was, but he just accepted it as one of those rules in life, one of those things that helps to explain one of life’s unfathomable mysteries. This castle was no doubt full of ageless, timeless, wandering spirits.
Gosling could not help but wonder if any of them were Princess Celestia’s former mates, and if they just so happened to be, were they watching him right now with envy? Hatred? Did they wish him well and hope for his success? The thought left him feeling unsettled, shaken, and worried. Princess Celestia was a mare that existed outside of time. She had been married, she had known love, and now, here he was, a young, inexperienced colt, trying to woo her. A part of him feared how he might be judged in comparison to the others in her past. How his shortcomings might be seen with a critical eye. The constant fear was almost paralysing. Every kiss, every caress, every loving touch would no doubt be measured against the standards set by those who had done so first or had done so best in the past. Gosling would only leave a lasting impression if he did something extraordinary, but he was inexperienced and young. Celestia would be his first, if this worked out, and so he had no hope of anything extraordinary.
It was almost too much to bear.
He crept from one patch of light to another, slinking along, alone with his thoughts in a dark, creepy hallway. Sighing, wondering what he was going to do with himself, he rounded the corner, distracted, and this was very nearly his undoing.
Before him, something hideous loomed in the darkness. Pale, bloated, something that was no longer living. Maggots writhed along the greasy looking flesh. Bald patches were visible. Rotten ears, swollen with decay, sagged from a malformed, misshapen head. Milky white eyes rolled around in swollen, puffy sockets. A shriveled tongue dangled from rotten, putrid lips puckered up for putrescent kisses, or maybe for nibbling his brain.
Faced with an undead horror, Gosling did the only thing a pony in his situation could do. He screamed. He screamed, and screamed, and for good measure, he screamed again, very nearly soiling himself in the process. There was a bright, blinding flash of light and then Gosling screamed once more, this time with feeling.
“Ooooh, that was a good one,” a low voice said, sounding as though it was almost chuckling, “and it is going into my collection!”
Realising that he was dealing with a pony, Gosling reacted in the most reasonable manner that he could muster as his heart thudded in his barrel and his bladder threatened to implode.
“You insufferable sot!” He sucked a deep breath, wheezing, trying to bring his terrified body under control. “I should box your ears!”
“Thou shalt do what?” The voice no longer held laughter or mirth, but cold imperiousness. It was the voice of absolute, unquestionable rule.
Gulping, Gosling understood at that moment that he had made a mistake. He was still blinded from the bright white flash that exploded mere seconds before. He stood, blinking, spots dancing before his eyes, and he had just threatened to box Princess Luna’s ears.
“Oooh, thou art most handsome and have such fine, chiseled features. We see why our sister fancies you.” There was a low cough and then the princess continued, “Ahem, I see why my sister fancies you.”
She was correcting herself, Gosling realised as he tried to blink away the dancing splotches in his vision. He drew in a deep breath and wondered how much trouble he was in for threatening to box a princess’ ears. Or calling her an insufferable sot.
“I shall treasure this photo,” Princess Luna said as she held it aloft. “You have such expressive features. Your face is really quite elastic and flexible. Thou art most comical in thine reactions.”
“Forgive me—”
“For what?” Princess Luna’s voice was now teasing once more. “For not saying please first before you made a request of me?”
Almost swallowing his tongue, Gosling took a stumbling, jerky step backwards and tried again. “Princess Luna, I humbly ask that you please forgive me for what I—”
“For what you said during a moment of bowel clenching, sphincter tightening terror?” Luna asked as she folded up the instant camera into its compact, more portable form. The Princess of the Night threw back her head and laughed.
As laughter echoed up and down the hallway, Gosling remembered his history lessons. At one point, Princess Luna had been the bearer of the Element of Laughter. He sucked in a deep, wheezing breath, shook his head, flapped his wings, and then tried to compose himself.
“You are wooing my sister. Because of this, I must now torment thee and make a mockery of your very existence. I know that soon, thou wilt be touching her, breathing heavily upon her neck, and with any luck, the royal nursery will soon be populated again.”
His mouth went dry and Gosling’s vision cleared enough that he could now see Luna standing before him. Her sides shook with laughter, her eyes were bright and merry. She was looking at him, her ears were erect, and there was a joyful, beautiful smile.
“It used to be that any suitor seeking to marry had to court the both of us and take both of us in marriage”—Luna paused for a moment when Gosling almost sounded as though he would begin hyperventilating and she let out a soft, almost musical giggle—“lucky for you, times have changed, mine little pony.”
Standing almost at attention, Gosling felt sweat rolling down his neck, then trickling down his front legs. His wings itched as sweat from his back dribbled down his sides and his dock began cramping.
“I like you,” Luna said to Gosling in a voice that bubbled with laughter. She took a step forwards and then continued, “I like you a great deal. You make my sister happy. I bear you no malice and you have my blessing. Come to me when thou art nervous, uncertain, or scared. Do not be shy. We are to be family, are we not?”
Gosling nodded.
“During the night, these passages are mine. Roam them at your own peril.” Princess Luna smiled, bowed her head, and then vanished. She dissolved into a cloud of perfumed, heady smoke, taking her camera and the photographic evidence of Gosling’s terror with her.
Shaking his head, Gosling now understood the constant warnings about Princess Luna. Feeling sweaty, unsettled, and out of sorts, he hurried off to return to Princess Celestia’s chambers.
Trying to control his breathing, fearful that his wingpits were now stinky, Gosling came to a halt just outside of Princess Celestia’s door. One of the two guards posted in the alcoves a short distance away saluted him. Gosling wasn’t sure what to think. So far, the guard’s reaction had been mixed. Some were supportive, others, not so much. He gave the guard a nervous grin and then knocked upon the door with his hoof.
“Yes? Who raps so gently upon my chamber door?”
Her voice. Gosling felt his back muscles tense. Her voice. A dopey grin spread over his muzzle and his terrifying encounter with Princess Luna was forgotten. How he loved her voice. Her voice was the sound of sunshine. It was warm, vibrant, full of life. It filled every inch of his being with happiness and joy.
“It is I, Private Gosling, and I ask for your permission to come inside, Princess Celestia.”
“Oh dear… to so boldly announce your intentions!”
Gosling quailed, becoming another species of bird horse altogether.
His mouth went dry as his own words echoed in his ears. He heard the guards behind him snickering. His wings went limp and drooped at his sides as his head dropped low. His ears sagged and his tail swished around his hind legs. He let out a tiny, pained, squeaky sigh that sounded as though somepony had just squeezed a rubber ducky, a fact made all the more hilarious because his cutie mark was a rubber ducky.
He heaved a dejected sigh, wondering if his night could get any worse.
“If I fail to open my doors to you, will you come battering down my gates so that you might violently plunder my treasury?” Celestia asked from the other side of the door. “Are you a handsome, foreign warlord bent on conquest?”
More snickering from the guards. Gosling took a deep breath and thought about creative ways to do himself in. Perhaps Luna could scare him to death. She had almost done so just a short while ago.
The door opened and Princess Celestia stood in the entryway, grinning, and smelling like nose tickling floral soap. Saying nothing, she grabbed Gosling in the golden glow of her magic, dragged him through the door, and then, laughing, she shut the door as she retreated into her room. “It has been far too long since I last had my treasury plundered!”
“Gosling, you look shaken.” Celestia watched as Gosling settled into a cushioned chair that was shaped like a martini glass, but low to the ground. She watched his every movement, unable to take her eyes from him. She sat herself down in a deep recess in the floor filled with pillows, easing herself down into the comfortable place like a great white bird settling into a nest.
“Princess Luna,” Gosling replied, not sure what else to say. What else could be said? He wondered if Luna showed off her collection of photographs to her sister. Of course she did, he told himself in his quiet, unspoken internal dialogue.
“Oh dear, I hope she didn’t scare you too badly. Psycho killer with a hockey mask or undead zombie?” A warm, pleasant smile spread over Celestia’s muzzle as she kept her affectionate gaze upon Gosling.
“Zombie.” Gosling folded up his front legs and settled into a pony loaf position in his peculiar shaped chair. “We talked for a bit and she gave me her blessing.” The colt coughed and then tried to say his next words with as much grace and aplomb as he could muster. “I’m guessing that you and your sister have shared a husband in the past?”
“Yes,” Celestia replied with a nod of her head. She heaved a sigh, turned, and looked over at an ornate mechanical clock. “With the passing of time, old customs and traditions fade away. But yes, there was a time when my sister and I shared everything we had. I suppose it seems sordid now and a bit—”
“Not at all,” Gosling said, making a gentle interruption with a few soft spoken words. “It is what it is.” Gosling, feeling an unmistakable tension in the air, wasn’t sure what to say and so he remained silent, hoping that the impending uncomfortable silence would be somehow banished.
“You must understand,” Celestia said to Gosling, “that I love my sister a great deal. There is much I would sacrifice for her happiness. There is a comforting familiarity in being a family together and sharing a husband. We”—Celestia’s lips formed a soft, drooping moue—“I trusted him. He had proven himself and he was a pony of strong character. I shared him with Luna in the hopes that he would ease her loneliness. He was dutiful, virtuous, and for a time, we were all happy together.”
Celestia closed her eyes and shook her head. “At least, I thought we were. But Luna’s bitterness and jealousy grew… she grew resentful.” Celestia’s voice became strained, gritty, and she continued, “When Luna stumbled… when she… she… she… Luna very much wanted to hurt me in any way she could and she did… Gosling, forgive me, I should not have brought this up, I am so sorry.”
Opening her eyes, she expected to see fear upon Gosling’s face, but she did not. Instead, she saw… understanding? She saw concern in his grey eyes. Something about his expression gave her hope. “She’s much better now. She is still finding her way and she is haunted by her past and the things she did.”
“I would imagine so,” Gosling replied, his response was kind, soft, gentle, and understanding. “I guess this explains why you are a little bit hesitant to get into a relationship.”
“My sister comes first in everything.” Celestia closed her eyes again, feeling safe, secure, and bold enough to bare her soul. “I will not make the same mistake twice. I failed her once and I shall never do it again.” Feeling the need to change the subject, Celestia coughed, took a deep breath, held it, and then said, “Your mother is coming to Canterlot. Are you worried?” She opened her eyes and awaited for Gosling’s response.
“A little, but I’m more worried about the big press release.”
Well, that was understandable. Celestia was worried about that too. There was going to be a soiree and the press would have full access. Celestia felt a tightness in her throat. So much could go wrong. Everything could go sideways. Twilight Sparkle might start dancing.
“I have all of these unreasonable fears that drive me nuts—”
Looking over at Gosling, she watched him narrow his eyes and his ears pinned back against his skull. He was adorable when he looked worried and she felt her heart fluttering against her ribs.
“—stupid fears that just about paralyse me.” Gosling’s eyes widened and he gazed upon his princess with unabashed affection. “If I confessed something that might sound silly, but was something I truly feared, would you promise not to laugh?”
“Oh my, are we at the point in our budding relationship when we confess embarrassing secrets?” After speaking, Celestia’s lips pressed into a tight, thin line. She waited for Gosling to bare his soul.
“I have this fear… almost a phobia… I mean, it scares me like you wouldn’t believe.” Gosling’s wings fluttered against his sides and his feathers ruffled, fluffing out. “I have bad dreams about it so I guess that Princess Luna already knows and if she knows, she’ll probably tell you at some point”—Gosling sucked in a deep breath with enough force that a whistling sound could be heard—“I have this fear of having stinky wingpits—”
“OH MY STARS, REALLY?” Celestia blinked in wide eyed astonishment.
“Really,” Gosling squeaked, stunned by Celestia’s reaction. “I am always checking myself and it scares me to death that I might spread my wings and have some lurking stench that I am not aware of almost kill somepony. I know it sounds silly, but I am terrified by this.”
It took Celestia a moment to realise that her sides were heaving. She licked her lips, feeling nervous, feeling excited, feeling nervecited. She of course, had her own unreasonable fear of this very thing.
“And it is made all the worse by being around you. I’ve tried so hard to be a good colt and be on my best behaviour around you. I keep my wings tucked against my sides, even when I’m feeling too hot and I can’t just open my wings because I’m afraid I’ll stink and oh my goodness you wouldn’t believe the other things I’ve been worried about and I—”
“Gosling…” Celestia’s soft word silenced the colt. “I too, worry about stinky wingpits.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Gosling’s muzzle crinkled and his eyes narrowed. “We could check one another…”
“We could!” Celestia nodded, her head bobbing with great enthusiasm. “We could totally check one another! You can’t always smell yourself when your nose stops working!”
The colt blinked as though he couldn’t believe his luck. His eyes widened, his muzzle uncrinkled as his ears perked and stood up. One ear twitched, causing his silver mane to spill down into his face. “We have so much in common,” he breathed, unable to achieve any sort of volume with his voice.
“Cadance is an amazing pony… I can only imagine that she went to Luna to learn of our secret fears so that she could match them up.” Celestia felt a catch in her throat as her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted to pull Gosling to her and hold him. She wanted to squeeze him—she wanted to kiss him. She wanted to nibble upon his lips and breathe the very same air, all while looking into his eyes. She wanted to see his youthful curiousity, his adoration, she wanted to look into his soul.
It was something that hadn’t happened yet. Oh, there had been a soft peck upon the cheek after the agreement to court one another, but that wasn’t a kiss. She thought about pulling him over and making a stallion out of him, but she knew that he was waiting. The waiting was terrible, but she would respect his wishes.
“You have been a perfect gentlepony this entire week,” Celestia said to her companion, “but I have to ask you something Gosling.”
“Yes?”
“When I was passed out, did you look at my goodies and dainty bits?” Celestia asked. She watched Gosling squirm and knew the answer. She smiled and felt warmth blossom through her loins.
“I tried to not look,” Gosling replied, his ears drooping, and he shook his head. “But you are so perfect, white, and beautiful.” The colt sucked in a deep breath, almost choked, and then gulped in more air. “I noticed that you have a belly button. There it was… just looking up at me. Cadance noticed me staring and she smiled at me. She said that you weren’t much different than I was. She noticed how flustered I was and thought it was funny, even though she was worried about you.”
“You were looking at my belly button?” Celestia blinked in shock and surprise. “You had a chance to look at everything and it was my belly button that caught your attention?”
The flustered young colt almost stammered in his reply, “Ask Cadance, because I said something about it to her—”
“Gosling…”
“Yes?”
“It occurs to me—”
“Yes, Princess?”
“—that I have not yet seen your belly button… fair is fair, after all…”