The room was tiny and grey with featureless walls. Overhead, a bare bulb burned inside of a protective metal cage. In the middle of the room was a small steel table, designed for easy cleaning, with hard, unyielding edges. As Blueblood rubbed his temple, he reminded himself that the hard, unyielding edges would not be needed, but was his patience ever being tried to its limits.
In a chair across from him, Skyfire Flash sat, looking both angry and terrified. Blueblood had already made up his mind that he hated her, but that didn’t stop him from doing his job and doing it well. His own personal feelings had no place in this. Raven couldn’t be trusted with this job and truth be told, Blueblood didn’t trust anypony other than himself to handle this.
“You can’t keep me here,” Skyfire said in a screechy, high pitched nasal whine.
The corner of Blueblood’s eye twitched. Skyfire was the sort of filly that you put something in her mouth to keep her from speaking. It didn’t matter what it was, just so long as it was something. She struck Blueblood as the sort of filly that would squirt out a whole passel of foals before she was even twenty, then cry and play the role of victim.
“Look, Skyfire, I am trying to help you,” Blueblood said again in a soft, subdued voice. “I don’t think you understand the severity of what you have done—”
“I haven’t done anything,” Skyfire retorted as she folded her forelegs over her barrel.
Fine then, the hard way, Blueblood thought to himself. “Miss Flash,” Blueblood began, “let me make a few things clear, because you haven’t been informed. You are in a world of trouble. Your parents are going to be fined a lot of money. And you are going to court—”
“You’re just trying to silence me after what Gosling did,” Skyfire said, butting in.
“Look here, you stupid, stupid girl, you have broken the law… you have committed slander! And when you go to court, they are going to place compulsion spells upon you and you are going to tell the truth… all of it! And your parents are going to suffer the full brunt of your punishment because you are underage!”
Skyfire shrank in her chair and stared at Blueblood with incredulous disbelief. “You can’t do that.” The filly’s voice was a low, worried nasal whisper. “I have rights. You can’t do stuff like that. I don’t care if you are a lawyer, that’s against the law. You’re just trying to scare me.”
“We most certainly can and will, you idiotic little trollop. You are going to stand up in court and admit what sort of horrid little attention whore you are and the words will pour out of your mouth about how you made all of this up.” Blueblood paused and his brows furrowed. “You can make this easier on yourself… you can make a public confession and admit to what you have done outside of court, and your parents will be shown some small amount of mercy. ‘Tis a pity they will be stuck with you, that’s punishment enough in and of its own.”
The filly said nothing, but she whimpered. Blueblood, in an odd moment, was moved to pity. She was repulsive and disgusted him, but he felt pity. Studying her, he tried to see whatever Gosling saw in her, and he found nothing. Blueblood could only see her future when he looked at her, and her future involved smelling like cheap, plebian beer and having the musty, mushroom soup smell of semen lingering about her as she stood and waited for the next customer that she could tell her sob story to as she was being railed. A smart customer might shut her up though with something in her mouth.
“How much did they pay you?” Blueblood asked.
“Nothing,” Skyfire replied.
Rubbing his temple once more, Blueblood sighed in frustration. “You’ll never be allowed to keep that money. It was paid to you so that you would commit slander. It is money involved in a crime. The money will be taken from you in court and you will be fined for accepting it. As it stands right now, you and your parents stand to lose everything because of what you have done. You’re the filly that slandered Princess Celestia and Princess Luna’s future consort. Your parents will probably never be able to find work again because of you. Everypony is going to see you and recognise you as the lying, stupid, little filly that you are and nopony will ever respect you again. I don’t think you realise just how badly you have messed up your life, and I am honestly trying to spare you some pain as you make the long slide down to the bottom.”
A tear rolled down Skyfire’s cheek and Blueblood’s pity grew. He saw a glimmer of understanding in her eyes—a moment of realisation—and he knew that it was starting to sink in for her.
“Even worse, you accepted a bribe to commit slander. That in and of itself is a criminal offense. How much you accepted will determine the severity of the crime—”
“He told me that nothing bad would happen!” Skyfire blurted out. “He promised me that this would be easy money and that the worst thing that could happen would be that I might get a bad newspaper article written about me!”
“And you were stupid to believe him!” Blueblood snapped. “Why would you do something so monumentally stupid, you daft little twit?”
Skyfire began to sniffle and tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m pregnant—”
“I don’t believe you, you lying, fork tongued, little whore,” Blueblood retorted. He squinted at the filly through one narrowed eye, unable to believe anything that she said. For all he knew, she might have been coached to say that.
“Really, I am… I’m just not showing very much… he promised me a whole bunch of money if I said it was Gosling’s after it was born. He said that he would pay me a lot of money for an exclusive and that the royal family would pay me a whole bunch of hush money just to keep everything quiet, even if it wasn’t Gosling’s, and then I’d be rich, famous, and important.”
“Conspiracy to defraud…” Blueblood shook his head. “I need his name… give me a name and I can help you. I can’t protect you from the full brunt of the consequences you’ve brought upon yourself, but I can soften the blow a little bit. Start telling me numbers. Give me details.”
“What’s in it for me?” Skyfire asked.
With a snarl, Blueblood stood up from his seat. He glared at the pegasus filly with a hard, furious stare, and then turned to leave. When he was at the door, he heard her say, “Wait, don’t go… I’ll tell you, I just want something in return, that’s all. I’m entitled to that! I deserve something for cooperating!”
Saying nothing in reply, Blueblood left and slammed the door behind him. Perhaps Skyfire needed a little more time left alone so she could stew. He would have to return later. Any feeling of pity that he had for her died as he made his way down the hallway. Any consequences that she faced, she deserved.
Exhausted, Gosling looked around the tiny room that was his quarters. It wasn’t quite a basket by the bed. He understood now why he could no longer sleep in the barracks or share in common quarters. Too many long days. Far too many long days. The stress was getting to him. There was still a faint hint of sunshine outside, but the sun was setting.
Princess Celestia was still busy, trapped in aggressive negotiations. This was a sign of things to come, no doubt. Gosling was now alone in her quarters, by himself, and pondering going to bed. His armor was sitting on a table beside the bed in the room that was now his. He was frustrated, angry, and alone. Dinner had not been an enjoyable meal for him or his mother, as they had both been too upset.
Was this his future? Going to bed alone while Celestia continued with aggressive negotiations? Gosling considered the caged bird—as the royal consort, he was a target for foalnapping, the paparazzi, dissidents, crackpots, and those who wished to hurt the Crown. A great big bullseye had been painted on his back. He was now Celestia and Luna’s weakness.
Sergeant Shamrock had sat him down and explained everything because somepony had to. Gosling was certain that at some point, he would have heard it from somepony. He suspected that nopony had considered him leaving or stepping out. His quarters were here, in Celestia’s own private chambers, with two guards at the door—two guards that Gosling wasn’t certain that he could trust anymore.
Scowling, Gosling kicked the side of his bed with his hoof. He yawned against his will. He wanted to be angsty and angry, but he just didn’t have the energy. He wanted to talk to somepony about how unfair all of this was, but deep down, he knew that this was his choice. He wasn’t about to abandon what he was certain was the love of his life just because the going got difficult.
He sat down upon his bed and as he did so, he tried to imagine how hard it might be to learn with guards standing around him in school. It would be impossible to make friends. Anypony that came too close would be sent away, turned back by the guards.
As Gosling laid down, he bumped up against a small wooden scroll tube that he hadn’t noticed on his bed. Curious, he sat back up and pulled it open with his teeth. He peered inside for a moment, upended it, and shook everything out as he held it, gripping it in his left fetlock.
Inside was a note and two photographs that had both curled somewhat from being in the scroll tube. He lifted the note and unrolled it, using his dextrous primaries. He saw a few words in a fine, flowing script. “Luna has told me what you like on a mare. Miss me?”
Curious and wondering what Luna had to do with this, Gosling set down the note and lifted up the photographs. He held them up and straightened them out. What he saw made him start sweating. The first photo was a close up of Celestia’s neck in stunning detail, starting from the withers and showing her face in profile. Dat neck! Does she have da neck? She do! He felt a throb in his wings as his body grew hot. The second photo took him a moment to recognise—it was Celestia’s navel, her belly button… and… he squinted. No! He held the photograph up to his nose and strained to see along the bottom edge. The photo had been done in such a way that there was just enough there to almost see them… a tease, a partial view. Reaching up with his foreleg, Gosling wiped the sweat from his brow. The photos were perfumed… her perfume. Holding the photo up to his nose, he could smell it. He inhaled, drawing in as much sweet, perfumed air as he could, and he felt himself go light headed.
He needed a shower. Yes, he definitely needed a shower. A shower and a wank.
When Gosling awoke, dawn was hours away. He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew. He was somehow aware of the fact that the sun was still hanging out in other parts of the world. He rolled over and touched the clock beside his bed. It glowed for a moment with a faint green light. It was just a little after three o’clock in the morning. He had gone to bed before nine. It was far too early to get up, but he felt awake. Like, very awake, with no hope of ever going back to sleep. He yawned, doing so quietly, and slipped out of bed. He made as little sound as possible.
He slunk around, stealthy, prowling in the dark and discovered Celestia asleep in her bed. He couldn’t recall his night vision ever being this good. Must be the carrots, or maybe just eating better in general. He hardly ever missed a meal anymore, and that had to be paying off. He stood watching Celestia sleep, he could see the rise and fall of her barrel. She was tangled up in her twisted sheet and blankets. Her legs kicked as she slept.
Part of him wanted to crawl into bed with her, even if he couldn’t sleep. He just wanted to be close to her. To feel her. To be pressed against her. To have her radiant warmth against his body. She was like standing out in the sun on a warm spring day. She was heat and light that soaked into the bones.
Standing there in the dark, watching Celestia sleep, Gosling had poetic thoughts. He loved her. There was no doubting that. It was more than lust or infatuation, he loved her. It was the only reasonable conclusion that he could reach. He was going to become the caged bird just so he could be with her.
But there was another. Blinking, Gosling wondered what Luna might be up to. Perhaps if he wandered the halls, she would jump out and scare him again. Princess Luna was elusive, mysterious, and Gosling had to find some way of connecting with her. Moving with near total silence, Gosling departed Celestia’s chambers, hoping to have the crap scared out of him.
It was an odd feeling no longer trusting his fellow guards. He had once called them all ‘brother,’ the guard was a brotherhood, and a sisterhood as well, but now, he was suspicious of every guard he met. Unsettled, Gosling didn’t like it. The darkened hallways didn’t seem as dark and he found that he could see just fine in the dim light available.
He prowled all over the castle, moving from place to place, with no luck. There was no sign of Luna anywhere to be found. Perhaps she was avoiding him. Maybe she had some duties to attend to. He didn’t know. As he roamed the darkened hallways, he thought about Luna. He wasn’t attracted to her. Oh, she was pretty enough, beautiful even, but she wasn’t his type. Her speech was confusing, a mix of old and new that was ever-changing.
Ahead, Gosling heard the sound of armor clattering, and by the sound of it, a whole lot of armor clattering. He picked up the pace, first to a trot, and then his sharp ears heard the cries of pain. He took off at a gallop to see what was going on.
In the central entrance, he came upon a sight that made him freeze. A patrol was coming in, all of them battered and bloody. Gosling knew a little about the night patrols and what they did for Equestria’s safety. He had heard stories. Every recruit heard stories. Some joined by choice, others joined to pay off debts. The night patrol was preferable to prison, for some. Some found honour and redemption.
“Summon doctors at once.”
Lifting his head, he saw Luna. She was wearing armor, battered armor that was damaged. She was bloodied and limping. Alarmed, Gosling went to her side, sidestepping to stay out of the way as more soldiers filed into the entryway.
“Luna?” Gosling came to a halt and heard the sound of dripping water somewhere. No, not dripping water. He could see it. A puddle was forming beneath the spot where Luna was standing. He could see that she was straining to even keep upright. Her feathers were flecked with blood and she had gashes beneath torn gaps in her armor.
He went to her side, standing close, and said, “Lean on me.”
“Away with you Gosling, now is not the time,” Luna said in a commanding voice.
Snorting, Gosling refused. He saw several pegasi turning to look at him. He also saw the strange pegasi of the night, the strange half dragon pegasi with leathery bat wings. All around him, he could hear the sounds of misery and pain. Gosling felt weak, small, and helpless. He wasn’t this sort of soldier and he knew he wouldn’t last long in a real fight. There was a reason he was in the ‘chair force.’
“Commander Luna, give me the privilege of bearing your weight,” Gosling said in a low, pleading whisper. “I might not be a warrior, but let me do something, please?”
Luna’s sudden weight against him was almost crushing. She was like her sister, far heavier than she appeared. He felt the hard edges of her armor pressing into his flesh, and he could feel her wing joint coming to rest against his back. He braced his legs and held her up. She weighed a ton. Gosling suspected that if one of the princesses was to ever roll over on top of him in bed, he would become a puddle of Gosling jam or that his insides might go squirting out of his balloon knot. His knees wobbled as he struggled to hold her up.
He felt her shift and he followed, walking with her as she leaned against him. She walked with a three legged gait, no longer putting her right rear hoof upon the ground now that Gosling was holding up her right side.
Unicorn guards were bringing in more ponies on stretchers. Gosling could tell by looking at them that some of them were dead. Some were missing limbs. Others looked chewed. His ears twitched with every cry he heard.
“What happened?” Gosling asked in a throaty whisper.
“We made a foray into Froggy Bottom Bogg,” Luna replied, “it has become a terrible place since Mount Maud erupted. The magic there now rivals the Everfree for danger.”
With a sickening feeling, Gosling realised that he felt something hot and wet running down his sides, down his legs, and soaking his wing. He knew that it was Luna’s blood. He moved with her, his efforts clumsy, but valliant.
“So many lost,” Luna said in a strangled whisper. “So many lost…” She shook her head and her eyes glimmered with tears. “The price of safety is so high. The night patrols bear the brunt of the worst that the wilds have to offer.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Gosling turned away from a headless corpse. He felt his gorge rising. He felt Luna tremble beside him and he knew that she was struggling to even keep standing. It was pride and pride alone that kept her on her three hooves.
“Night Lady, your blood loss is considerable,” a draconic pegasus said in a low, croaking voice. “You are not invulnerable. Please, seek aid. Allow us to do our jobs here.”
“No,” Luna said in a voice of flat refusal. “Mine brethren have been wounded and killed. I must see to them.”
“Night Lady, please, reconsider,” the night guard said.
When Luna’s weight shifted without warning, Gosling almost toppled over. How much did a princess weigh, anyhow? He grunted as he strained to hold her up. Hard, jagged edges of torn metal pressed into his skin and Luna’s wing joint felt as though it was cutting into his spine. He heard Luna let out a cry. He felt a sharp, jagged corner of metal piercing his side, just below his withers, and he winced. He let out a hiss of pain and ignored the sharp metal digging into his shoulder.
“Night Lady, there are parts of you hanging out that should not be,” the guard said in a voice devoid of any emotion. “Do not make me relieve you of command.”
“Oh very well,” Luna snapped.
“You.” Gosling froze when he heard the voice. His body was threatening to betray him, his weakness threatened to shame him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep holding up Luna. He tried to snap to attention and failed. He stared up at his strange lunar cousin, mystified by his very existence. The metal was digging in deeper, but he dared not complain. Not after what he had witnessed. These ponies had been bloodied by something far worse than a pokey bit of metal.
“You there, brave one… you are to remain with the Night Lady and not leave her side. Stay with her while she is being patched up.” The bigger draconic pegasi glared down at Gosling, dwarfing him. In a low voice, the guard said, “She is afraid of needles. She may become panicked.”
“We are not!” Luna bellowed in protest as she struggled to remain standing. “Lies! Slanderous accusations! Falsehoods!”
“Somepony will be along to relieve you at dawn, so that you may continue with your expected duties of the day without trouble,” the guard said, ignoring Luna.
Gosling found himself unable to salute, so he nodded.
The draconic pegasus pointed with his wing at Gosling. “By bleeding with us, you become one of us. I can smell your blood, brave one. Please, look after our Night Lady. She is very dear to us.” The big pegasus turned his head and barked, “Take the Night Lady to the infirmary at once! She needs to be carried!”
“We do not!” Luna protested. “We art fine!”
As Luna continued to protest, Gosling felt himself lifted in the warm tingle of magic...