The cave was smooth-walled, flat-floored and fairly dry. There were signs that the walls and especially the floor had been smoothed out by past occupants. Dragons often did this to their own lairs, using their claws, capable of gouging and scraping all but the most obdurate minerals, but Fischfootur hadn't been in here long enough for a dragon his size to have done that much work. There was no telling who had done it now, without serious archaeological examination. The Earth was old, and there were and had been many sapient species in its history.
The entrance bent sharply after a short run, and the reflected sunlight which remained was very dim. This was a problem neither for Dragon eyes, or for Luna's own -- which could see much broader electromagnetic spectra than those of normal Ponies, and were equipped with tapetums. Around another corner she saw a glimmer of light, which seemed the wrong color for even indirect sunlight. It was hard to tell through Fischfootur's own dragon musk, but she thought she smelled magic -- metal -- and something familiar, up ahead.
An obviously-squared out apeture was covered by a leather hanging, keeping most of the light from within from reaching outside. This door would be completely invisible from the cave mouth, which itself was difficult to see from the air and difficult to reach from the ground. As concealment, Luna could not fault it -- had Fischfootur not actually gone outside the cave, she doubted that even the perceptive Summer Lightning would have noticed his presence.
The bends in the tunnel would even have masked his scent unless somepony actually landed on the ledge and took a whiff from the cave mouth itself. It also gave an attacker no clear line of fire for even a thrown explosive device from the mouth to the inner chamber, while the bulk of the mountain would protect anyone within from anything save a point-blank sunfire explosion. Luna thoroughly approved of Fischfootur's sense of favorable ground: it increased her estimate of his intelligence.
Luna was, of course, fully aware of the possibilities for treachery inherent in her situation. As Fischfootur swept aside the hanging and stepped into the inner chamber, holding it aside politely to facilitate her own entrance, Luna quietly cast a shielding spell over her eyes and ears which would protect her against any flash-bangs, and readied herself to fight should she be attacked.
She did not really expect an attack, though. There were two reasons why: the first was simply that she was much more powerful than anything likely to be in that cave: if she wanted to, she could bring the mountain down on them and then blast her way out of the collapse, essentially unharmed. The second was much more fundamental, though. She liked Fischfootur, and did not judge him likely to be willing bait for any trap which would require him to violate his own word. Dragons, long-lived and warlike, were quite careful of their honor.
She was not disappointed. But she was surprised.
The cave was not dark at all. There was no source of natural sunlight, but Fischfootur had mounted glowstones on the wall, and he touched the master-stone to bring the light up to a level appropriate for a Pony's eyes. That's polite of him, Luna thought. By this light she could discern the cave's contents.
The chamber was moderately large -- small for a dragonslair, but then Fischfootur was still small for a dragon. The middle of the cave contained exactly what she would expect to see in any lair -- a heap of gold and gems, which bore in its center the impress of her host's body. It would be upon this which he would sleep. A number of large iron-bound wooden boxes along one wall had obviously been used to transport the treasure; and as obviously would be used by Fischfootur to bring it back out again.
There were two more hanging-covered apetures. From one, she tasted fresh air -- this would be the rear entrance that any wise smaller Dragon would have, should his lair be invaded by a foe beyond his power. From another, off to the side, she smelled the familiar scent
Leather, cloth, paper, and old ink. Books, she thought. He's an intellectual.
That could explain a lot. Dragons were highly-intelligent beings. But they were also highly-combative. They respected scholars, but they demanded that their fellow-dragons be able to fight, before all else. The honor-duels common in their society could rob a cowardly dragon of all status, all possessions, even of his life, should he not be able to demonstrate that he was a warrior, first and foremost. For a bookish adolescent, the balance of between body and mind might be difficult to strike. Was that why he had felt driven to challenge her?
"Sorry that I don't have this better arranged," Fischfootur said. "But I just moved in -- and I figured I'd be leaving soon anyway." He walked toward that tantalizing side alcove. "Here," he said, "I want you to see this." He pulled the leather hanging to one side.
The walls of the alcove were lined with bookshelves, about three-quarters full of books.
I thought so. She leaned forward slightly, scanning the titles. There were some classics she remembered from her previous time on Earth, and some newer ones she recognized from her readings since her return. They were from many lands, and the words impressed upon their spines were printed in many tongues. The one thing which surprised her was that the vast majority of them were in Demotic Equestrian, the script now most commonly used for popular publications.
Then she noticed the other contents of the room.
The walls were decorated with pictures obviously obtained from Equestrian sources. There were color-prints of Ponies -- here was a really big one of Celestia performing some public ritual before a crowd in Canterlot in an especially prominent location; there one she recognized as a Wonderbolts promotional poster; and, embarrassingly, one of herself in the form she had taken immediately after the Nightmare had been purged. Was I really that little and fluffy-looking? she wondered, and immediately received humiliating confirmation of this fact from her excellent memory.
There was more. There were maps of Equestria, which looked not so much as military objective maps as tourist maps, probably obtained from travel agencies. Certain locations had been circled: and while some might also have been military objectives, she was pretty certain that the inclusion of places such as Las Pegasus and Neighagra had less to do with any planned invasion than with exactly the purpose for which those maps had been originally intended -- Fischfootur obviously either had or wanted to visit those places for sightseeing.
On some shelves were little model Ponies. She looked at these with wonder -- they were finely detailed, brightly-painted and had been posed with some imagination. Celestia was there, of course, and a figure that was obviously meant to be Nightmare Moon (my teeth were not that large), and Prince Blueblood (Well, there's no accounting for tastes, and the drake's never actually met him) and several others who looked like Ponies of high rank whom she didn't recognize. There was a Star-Swirl the Bearded (Ooh, they put tiny little bells on the hat, very nice).
There was only one conclusion she could draw from all this. And it was one that made her very, very glad she hadn't killed him.
"Thou likest us," she said in wonder, turning toward him. "Thou art a Pony-Friend." That had been an object of her sister's policy, one that she had begun back in the days when she was still unifying the Realm, to exert a cultural influence on other lands and races, to excite admiration and imitation from them. And it had very obviously worked, on at least one Dragon.
"Um, yes," Fischfootur said. "You could call us that. Though those among us Dragons who like your culture -- we mostly call ourselves 'dronies.' For short, you see?" He looked strangely nervous, as if fearing some hostile reaction.
Luna nodded.
"Is this why thou didst come to Equestria?" she asked. "Because thou didst want to see our land?"
"Yes," replied Fischfootur. "I couldn't just visit -- my clan would really ride me if I did that. Calling on to the out-flying, though -- they approved of my enthusiasm." He looked down. "I think some of them were hoping you Ponies killed me."
"Sad if that be true," Luna said. He deserved better honesty than 'Oh, I don't think that they could have wanted that.' From what Luna knew of Dragon culture a thousand years ago, the last thing they would have wanted was an extra mouth at their feasts whom they disfavored, even if he was related to them by blood. "They would be reaved of a brave fighter, and skilled tactician." That was no lie, but she suspected that his clan didn't know it.
"You really think I'm that good?" he asked, slowly lifting his eyes to meet hers.
"Yes," Luna nodded. "Yes, if that had been real war, I would have killed thee, but thou art no more than, what 40?" Late adolescence for a Dragon.
"Heh," Fischfootur said. "I'm only 34. But I'm built kind of solid" He looked at her. "And I knew you were holding back."
"I used only mundane weapons, save for that lightning near the end," she admitted. "But it is not thine own fault that thee could not have endured my gravity lances. Only the oldest and most powerful of thy kind could stand against that, and then only for a short while. Only your High Queen would have much chance of overcoming me in single combat. That is simple truth, Thou didst fight with thy utmost strength and much skill, and this is very much to thy credit, young drake." She gazed deeply into his eyes. "And thou didst do something of even greater merit."
"What did I do?" the dragon asked.
"Thou didst keep thy head," Luna explained. "Thou didst not let anger, nor awe at my might, prevent thee from thinking clearly and laying thy plans well. Not one in ten drakes of thy age could have done half so well. So be proud, Fischfootur son of Greattfisch. For I, who have fought many of thy kind, say that thou art a warrior born."
Fischfootur actually blushed at the compliment; Luna could see the flush on his cheeks and throat even through the scales.
"Thou mayest now boast that you have battled me ... and survived. And, should any doubt thy claim ..." She reached back to her chariot with her aura, felt around, drew something back to her around the dogleg. It was a blue towel, embroidered with the initials'LSN' in High Equestrian, for 'Luna Selena Nyx.' She mopped her brow and hair with it, then gave it to Fischfootur.
"Mine own," she said "and bearing mine own scent to prove its provenance to aught who might be so rude as to doubt thine own word on the matter. Thou mayest have it in gift, as souvenir of this day's meeting -- and token of mine own esteem for a valiant foe, whom I do devoutly hope I may one day call mine own friend."
"Wow!" cried Fischfootur, taking the towel, sniffing it, then folding it reverently and placing it upon a shelf. "Thank you, Princess Luna! I ...I don't know what to say! I'm speechless!" He hopped over to a chest, opened it, rummaged around, and withdrew a an old gold torc. "This has been in my line for generations -- Greattbeest the father of Greattfisch my father had it from the sack of Skryhold, twelve hundred years ago. A sage told Greattfisch that it once belonged to the war-captain Monasdrommir, from a thousand years before that and -- is something wrong, Princess?"
Princess Luna gasped, and gazed at the object, examining the detail of the complex metal ornamentation on the front. There was a crescent moon, and old Norse-Runes intertwined with unicorns and pegasi and earth ponies. Her mind plunged far, far back into the past, to a time when she was not a Princess, but rather a wandering adventurer, leading a brave crew of barbarians in a desperate fight by land, sea and air to defeat the monstrous minions of Discord as they strove to conquer the Old East Coast and sever the Crystal Empire's sealanes to the Old Worlds.
She remembered when this had been given to her. She remembered who had given it to her.
Oh, Bjorthugur ...
"Twenty-two centuries," said Luna thickly, her eyes misting over. "Is that ... art thou ...?" She could think of no way to ask.
"Yes," said Fischfootur. "It's for you. You have given me a great treasure. Can I do less than reciprocate?"
She could not bear to speak. She picked the torc up in her aura, sounded it with a focused graviton pulse for flaws.
There were none. It had been well-forged, well-kept.
She put the torc on, above her breastplate.
It sat there as if it had never left her throat.
"How didst thou know?" she asked.
"It kind of reminded me of you," he said simply. "I knew it was of Pony make, and it had your Crescent Moon symbol ... so I figured that it had belonged to somepony from your clan. That's why I brought it here."
So he hadn't really known. But his instincts were sound.
"It ... was mine," she simply said. "I was Monasdrommir."
"Way cool!"
"Thanks to thee again," she said. "Thee hast given me a gift of great price, and great meaning to myself."
"You did too!" he told her. "That towel will always remind me of our duel -- of you." He blushed again. "You know, this is the first really epic moment of my life. You're like something out of an old saga."
"Apt words," she said. "As there have been many old sagas about me. Though most, I suppose, are long forgot." She was briefly saddened as she thought of all the years that had flown by since she had been Monasdrommir, since she had known Bjorthugur.
"Well I'm never going to forget you!" Fischfootur promised. "And Dragons live a long time!"
"That ye do," Luna smiled. "And that thou canst -- if thou dost take some care of thy life." She thought a moment. "Fischfootur," she said, "wouldst thou do a favor for me?"
"What do you wish, Princess?" His eyes were full of eagerness.
"Take care of thy life," Luna said. "Oh, I know thou must duel from time to time to gain thy place -- I expect thou wilst fight a few against fools who name thee liar when thou tellest them of our meeting this day -- but do not challenge one as powerful as mine own self again, unless thou hast truly good cause. Canst thou promise me that?"
"I could," said Fischfootur, a stubborn look coming into his eye, "but wouldn't that be cowardly of me? To back down before greater strength?"
"No," said Luna. "Thou art no coward, as I have seen plainly today. But to avoid a fight one cannot win, the better to build thy strength up and come back later, when the advantage is thine own -- that is simply wisdom."
"Should I then love life before honor?" Fischfootur asked. "I have always heard that you never backed down ..."
"Oh, Fischfootur," Luna said. "I am an Alicorn -- I have always been powerful beyond most compare, I am touched not by age nor sickness, and I can heal any hurt that does not slay me outright. Thou art a Dragon: great in power, but still mortal. Death will find thee in time -- why wouldst thou court his untimely kiss? Even I -- who can die, though only by great force -- I do not seek out mine own destruction.
"I do not tell thee to be craven," Luna continued, gazing earnestly into his eyes. "I tell thee to be wary. Use the same bright mind I have seen thee use in tactics, and apply it to strategy -- I tell thee to pick thy fights. Build up thy strength, of body and mind and following. Thou hath the seeds of a great wyrd in thee. Throw not thyself to any lesser doom. Dost thou ken?"
"I ...Yes, I do," breathed Fischfootur, enrapt by her words. "I promise, Princess Luna," he said firmly. "I will not throw my life away on a foolish quarrel."
"I am glad," said Luna. "For in my many centuries in this flesh, the one thing I most hate is to lose my friends."
They conversed at length upon other things, profound and silly, her life and his. She told him some tales of Monasdrommir and the old wars against Discord. He told her of his life in the Northern Isles, of his clan and family and friends, of the group that called themselves the "Dronies."
His interest in Pony civilization had begun when he had first learned, as a child, of the existence of other kinds of Ponies than the Earth Ponies who dwelt in farming and fishing villages in the North Islands, forming the local peasantry. The Ponies of the North Islands were simple folk, but when he journeyed to Klakskreek, the main trading town for the archipelago, he met the sophisticated Earth Ponies from Equestrian merchant vessels, Pegasus seaponies, and even some Unicorns. He had become fascinated by Pony biology, and then culture.
He had established a regular trade contact: an Earth Pony factor for a firm which exported lizard-meat from Silverland and carried it all the way to the Old Worlds in ice-lined cargo holds. She sold him many of the artifacts in the special chamber of Fischfootur's hoard, and more which he had not brought to Equestria.
He showed Luna a color picture, which he kept in a locket and sometimes wore around his neck. The picture was that of a youngish, rather heavy-built and masculine-looking pale tan mare with rough-cut straw-colored mane, and determined-looking blue eyes.
Luna thought it odd that the adolescent Dragon would keep the picture of a mere business contact in such a sentimental manner, and his words when she asked him the mare's name confirmed her suspicions.
"She's Meatpacker," he sighed, smiling and looking at the picture. "Isn't she beautiful?"
There was no way for Luna to explain to him that -- by Pony standards -- Meatpacker was quite plain. Or even rather alarming. But then, Fischfootur was a Dragon. And Luna, herself, was not one to be either overly atrracted or repelled by mere physical appearances, as she had memories of past Aspects in which her concepts of physical beauty had been very different indeed.
She understood the more important implication, though.
"Thou lovest her?" she asked. Such love, between Dragons and Ponies, was rare and often unhappy -- but it was not unknown. The two races were similar enough in their basic emotions for it to be possible, particularly between an especially generous and kind Dragon, and an especially ambitious and prudent Pony.
"Yes," said Fischfootur, in a tone which bespoke complete certainity. He stared at her as if he expected opposition.
"Dost she love thee?" Luna asked.
"I ... I don't know," he said. "I think so ... we've spent days together, just talking about things and telling each other our hopes and dreams ... but I've never spoken to her about love. I ... I don't think she has anyone else. Most Ponies think she's not feminine enough. I can't see why -- she has this cute nose, and the way her hair streams in the wind, and the light in her eyes ..." he sighed. "I wish we could be mates."
"I see," said Luna. He had it bad. What was more, he was obviously on the verge of lifebonding with her. Dragons did not love easily, and sometimes they just mated instead, but when they did love, they were very monogamous. More so than most Ponies, and most Ponies were far from wanton.
Luna, who herself was far from wanton, could understand how Fischfootur felt. She felt the very same way every time she thought of Dusk Skyshine. And to a lesser degree when she thought of several other stallions, all of whom were long-dead, and one of whom she wished was long-dead, but whom she feared was only sleeping.
This let to the one point she had to mention to Fischfootur, one problem that she had faced many times before, but which he may not have fully considered.
"Thou dost know that most Ponies are quite mortal," she said, slowly. "And short-lived, by Dragon standards. Thou wilt still be in thy prime when she's -- gone."
"I know," said Fischfootur, firming his jaw. "But -- if she'll have me -- I'll face that with her when the time comes. She's not even twenty-four yet -- she can live for many more decades."
Luna could not condemn him for this sentiment: to do so would have made her the worst sort of moral hypocrite. This was exactly the way her own thoughts went every time she made a friend, or fell in love. This was the way her thoughts were going now, as she befriended Fischfootur, the very reason she had urged caution upon him. When one is immortal, all whom one cares about become hostages to fortune, hostages one knows Time will inevitably execute. Her only other option would have been to alienate herself from all other life, and then she would truly have become the callous inequine monster that Crimson had named her, at the last, terrible termination of their love and friendship.
"Very well," said Luna. "Then you must follow your heart."
His expression brightened.
"But remember," she warned. "She may not return thy love. And if that is how she feels, thou must accept her choosing. Thou must neither try to force her love, nor punish her for her refusal."
"I would never do that!" Fischfootur said, sounding genuinely shocked.
"Then I approve thy suit," Luna said, smiling. "Mark this, good Dragon," she continued, "I likest thee well. Thou must quit this land now, with thy hoard, but when Equestria's relations with thy Islands be better, thou art welcome to come to Canterlot, to visit as mine own guest. Thou must be careful in thy Pony-Friendship to not appear as traitor to thine own kind ..."
"I would never do that either!" Fischfootur insisted. "I would fight you again if I had to for my clan!"
"I know that, dear friend," Luna said. "Thou art loyal and true to thy clan. But thou must be careful that thy clan not deem thee false. That be easy -- tell them much of our battle, but little of our talk after. Then, in some months or years, I may send thee formal invitation, mayhap by way of thy friend Meatpacker. She too will be welcome at my Court, for any friend of thine is friend of mine." Luna knew that a mare from a merchant family would be pleased with any such invitation. "Thou shalt see -- it shalt go well. I --"
Suddenly Luna froze, looking in at one of the walls. Her ears instinctively perked up, though what she heard was on a sub-spatial, rather than acoustic, channel. It came on a frequency and in a code instinctive to the Cosmics.
It was a foal, bawling in distress!
She turned back to Fischfootur.
"Forgive me, friend. The need is dire -- I must leave you now. Fare thee well, until we meet again."
He looked at her in confusion, then nodded.
And with that she darted out of the chamber, flying so fast that the coins rattled in the wake of her passage.
She burst from the cave, and cried out to her Night Guards:
"Follow me as best you can! Some one needs help, and now!
Then she beat her wings hard, her flightfield glowing bright blue-violet as she streaked off in a straight line to the north-northwest.
The amount of thought that you put behind your world building is absolutely staggering. I would in all seriousness draw a parallel between you and J.R.R. Tolkien in terms of how thorough you are in this aspect, with the advantage to you, to boot. I have read a great deal over the years, and I have read only a handful of stories whose worlds are even a tenth as developed. These last two chapters, with the meeting and battle between Luna and Fischfootur, have done naught but cemented this comparison in my mind.
4119933 This is only one story. Have you read the rest of his Shadow Wars series?
4120040
...I can't believe I never checked his other stories. Well, I suppose my reading list just grew, then.
4120051 This story is part of an incredible series. (Albeit incomplete, but none the less for it. There is a list of all the stories on his user page.)
4119933
Awww /// It's really very derivative, of the main TV series, of Alex Warlorn's Pony POV Series and other sources, but I'm glad you like what I'm doing with this material.
4119933
And I am a huge Tolkien fan, so I am especially-honored that you would say that.
Brilliant as usual. This might be my favorite entry in the series so far. That Romance tag is lurking somewhere in the background, I remember: Luna knows exactly who Dusk is now, and she'll have to deal with it eventually. My bet is that she won't choose "wait 80 years and see if he comes back as a stallion this time."
4120622
I'm glad you like the way this story's going. This part is basically about Luna opening up again to the world and embracing her responsibilities. She's starting to free herself from the paralyzing guilt and shame she's felt for her former mistakes, and trying to actively atone for them by serving her sister and the Realm in this new age. As she does this, she's becoming more cheerful -- and making new friends.
The real reason she's afraid to open herself up to Twilight is that she's terrified of rejection due to her self perceived unworthiness -- in particular, she's afraid that even Dusk would reject her if he knew the terrible crimes she's committed. She really doesn't think very highly of herself any more, though her confidence is -- slowly -- beginning to return.
You may notice that nopony else sees her as unworthy.
*swept
*double period
... Dronies.
Fischfootur's taste in mares seems wildly different from Spike's. Cultural implications abound.
4122595
Yes, that was intentional -- I got the idea after visiting a MLP convention.
Fischfootur's been raised as a Dragon, and hence his concept of femininity is considerably tougher than that of Spike, who has been raised as a Pony. And Spike has been raised not just by any Ponies, but by the courtly Scholar Gentry of the Twilight/Night family of Canterlot.
Fischfootur is drawn to Meatpacker's gentleness -- even though Meatpacker isn't gentle at all by Pony standards. I haven't yet introduced her as a character, but my image of her is as rough, tough and butch as all hell. Sort of a merchant-family Pony version of George R. R. Martin's Brienne of Tarth, with considerably less idealism but the same sort of rugged integrity. She, for her part, is utterly-astounded that someone regards her as feminine, and a lady -- and rather likes it.
Spike, on the other hand, is trying to be an upper-middle to upper-class Pony, and he's fundamentally much more like that than is Fischfootur, who only took to Pony culture at a distance and has never been immersed in it. He's always felt a bit out of place, because he knows he's a Dragon. One of the reasons he's so drawn to Rarity is that she's actually similar to him, in that Rarity isn't really Canterlot upper crust -- she's from a very middle-class family and she's rather invented for herself the whole sophisticated socialite identity. The same goes for her regarding him -- they are kindred spirits, and on some level both of them know it. That's why, despite the stress caused by his only semi-requited love for her, they are essentially best friends anyway.
I wonder how Spike and Fischfootur would regard one another? I don't think they'd actually fight: both are rather amiable drakes; I do think that they would find one another very interesting, and perhaps disturbing.
Luna's dialogue is incredible! You've always been good at writing her, but it really shows and adds to the atmosphere in this chapter. It's rather common in fanfiction for character dialogue to use mannerisms that the canon character doesn't have, especially for someone with an unusual syntax like Luna. The conversation was captivating, high-quality writing! Can't wait for more.
4124654
I'm glad you liked how I rendered her dialogue -- I devoted considerable thought to it.
Luna has only been back a few months and her vocabulary and speech patterns are still very archaic. The Equestrian spoken language has changed less in the last 1000 years than English has over the equivalent period of time -- so Luna is not speaking the equivalent of Old or even Middle English. She is, however, speaking the equivalent of Early Modern English -- and as she may properly tutoyer (to use the French term) any friend, family member, subject. guest, honorable or despised enemy when she is speaking one-on-one, she is using the "thou" form of the second person singular to almost everyone in this dialogue (there is one "you" in there on purpose, when she addresses her squad as a unit, she could have used "ye" but this is a borderline case).
Beyond that, I'm trying to give the flavor of greater archaism by having her use English / Norse constructions over French / Latinate constructions when possible, as if she came from a linguistically simpler time (actually, she came from a time when Crystal-Imperial and Prench words had not been so thoroughly-assimilated into Equestrian). This is especially true when she speaks to Fischfootur, because she knows how to speak the Nhorse tongues used in the Northern Islands. She's speaking Equestrian, but she unconsciously shifts into Nhorse speaking patterns when she talks to the dragon.
But I do not want to make her sound ignorant -- she's not (though she hasn't caught up on the specific details of modern Equestrian slang and technology). She's a supergenius by Pony standards, and she knows secrets of science and technology that Equestria hasn't yet rediscovered. When in doubt, thus, I think of Poul Anderson's "Uncleftish Beholding" (a treatise on nuclear physics written in what Old English would have become if the Norman Invasion had failed) and imagine her as an Anglo-Saxon or Viking version of an E. E. "Doc" Smith Science Hero -- or an Arisian energizing the form of flesh of such a character -- which is close to the truth regarding Princess Luna.
tapetums
Ironic that we've seen ZEBRA have this trait in the MLP Verse.
Save for Spike, I never imagined Dragons as the reading type.
With Pony POV Origin canon in this verse, makes me wonder if Keep Calm and Flutter On was Celestia's way of trying to reach the part of Dissy she hoped still existed in Discord.
Demotic Equestrian
Ah, 'Low Equestria' eh?
Was I really that little and fluffly-looking?
And she wondered why ponies had a hard time connecting her with the pony who was there at the Summer Sun Festival and instead saw only Nightmare Moon?
There was a Star-Swirl the Bearded
There have likely been more than one.
I just want to say again I love how you give depth to the pony world here WITHOUT giving it 20th century weapons or tech.
'dronies.'
Uh . . . maybe he doesn't know what that word sounds like.
Fischfootur's actions suggest less and less a booby trap.
Only 34? Susprirsed Fischfootur isn't still considered a baby dragon.
I wonder how Luna would react if she learned Fluttershy had the power to cow a full adult dragon with just eye contact.
For what it's worth, I'm happy to see dragons who are civilized who weren't raised by ponies, but aren't treated as 'poor misunderstood.'
Can I do less than reciprocate?"
No wonder his buddies consider him freak, what happened to good old dragon greed?
wyrd
wyrm
between Dragons and Ponies, = Kirin
This makes me understand why there are so many fics about Twilight going nuts trying to make her friends immortal.
There must be foals all over Equestria crying, what brings her attention to this one?
And thank you again for all you respect AND imagination.
Luna, for the obvious reasons, really values good night vision. She also engineered this trait into the Nocturnae (the Night Pegasi or "bat-ponies"). The disadvantage of a tapetum is that it (probably) renders one more vulnerable to dazzling in strong light.
Dragons are highly-intelligent but culturally not very literary: they prefer oral traditions, and regard the written word as a crutch for weak memories. Individual Dragons can of course choose to interest themselves in books. One of Fischfootur's problems is that he's still an adolescent, trying to establish his reputation, and thus more emotionally and socially-vulnerable to criticism. rejection and outright physical assault.
(*nods*) Celestia can't do this herself: there's too much unpleasant history (literally, their struggle lasted for a thousand years) between them. But Fluttershy has many of the attributes of Celestia that Dissy liked, is strong enough not to be easily corrupted by him, and the only history between them was one battle -- in which Fluttershy didn't even play the main part. Celestia thinks that Fluttershy can survive Discord long enough to re-awaken Dissy -- and it's worth the risk, because Discord turned from enemy to ally would be a major victory.
As an enemy, Discord is functionally a tool of the Shadows, even though Discord is too strong for the Shadows to actually possess. Discord doesn't like to be anyone's pawn, and Celestia figures if she could calm him down long enough for him to realize whose end's his actions are really serving, he might be willing to fight against the Shadows. The Shadowverse is as much a nightmare to our kind of Chaos as it is to our kind of Law: its "false entropic maximum" of changeless torment is a perversion of our multiverse's Nature. And that's what our multiverse will become if they win.
Yep. A simplified version of Equestrian script designed to be easier and quicker to write, to help restore near-universal literacy. One of the soft technologies that helped Equestria on its climb back toward a scientific civilization.
Luna's not as good at putting herself in the place of ordinary Ponies as is her sister. And she was (will be) really enthusiastic about getting to participate in ordinary Pony festivals. (And, in the case of my version of Luna, making a good impression on Twilight, which she actually succeeded in doing by a totally different path than she planned).
I actually find it kind of annoying that so many writers can't wrap their minds around the concept of a culture that simply has a different level of technology other than "Information Age" or "Medieval European." Admittedly the episodes themselves mess with this for humor value, but if one looks at what's been presented as story-critical, one sees a culture with an overall late middle 19th century technology (around that of the 1850's to through 1870's in most fields, a late middle 20th century medical technology (1950's through 1970's) and which is retarded by 100 or more years in terms of weapons technology, and which because of magic and magitech ("thaumic engineering") is functionally early 20th century in some fields.
They don't have advanced electronic communications (they have telegraphs and perhaps early telephones). They don't have electronic media (such as TV or the Internet). Their only computers are bulky systems dedicated to very specialized purposes, like medical scanners or Twilight's experimental brain-scanner, and probably use electromechanical or at most vacuum tube switches. They probably do have programmable Babbage Engines -- as very stationary and cranky machines which need full-time crews to operate.
Now, as you probably know if you've been reading my stories, they're going to go through a crash modernization Lensman Arms Race over the next quarter-century, taking them from c. 1875 technology to c. 1975 to 2075 technology (and much faster in terms of weapons tech) in order to survive the Shadows. But this would be a senseless story component if they didn't have a lower level of technology to begin with.
It's a failure of imagination on the part of people who don't grasp technological history. In some cases I think that Information Age people have problems wrapping their mind around pre-Information Age limitations (most specifically that a Pony of the period represented in the show can't quickly and easily contact or find others who are geographically distant, and doesn't have all the information of Equestria at his hoof-tips). Good examples of this are Cranky's decades-long search for his One True Love (hard to imagine today with electronic media) and Twilight's nerdgasms every time she finds a new library (there is vital information there which isn't part of her own library, because there's no Internet). In a pre-Information Age world, it's easier for people (and knowledge) to get lost.
Heh ... Fluttershy is busy demonstrating this power to the Mane Six for the first time, at around the same time as Chapter 5.
Oh yes. Fischfootur is very much a Dragon -- just because he likes Ponies doesn't make him un-Dragon, which is precisely the point on which he seeks respect. Luna likes him personally, and her actions toward him are fully-in-accord with her understanding of draconic natures. She knows that her sparing his hoard when she could have taken it emotionally imposes a debt of gratitude. Luna is aware of the fact that in offering to show her his hoard, he is extending great trust to her. She knows that Dragons are honorable, which is why she's willing to risk walking into a trap (that and the fact that she's a lot stronger than he is and figures she could survive any likely attempt at betrayal).
The bit with the towel was a gift, which she chose specifically to help Fischfootur be believed in his claim to have personally fought her. Fischfootur gave her the torc as a reciprocal gift -- Dragons fully understand that. The fact that he considered Luna's towel worthy of giving her a millennia-old torc in return (and one with particular heroic associations) was a great compliment to Luna, and one which deeply touched her (the more so because it was actually something she lost over two thousand years ago). After that, they've pretty much firmly established to each other in Dragon terms the desire to become very good friends, and Luna treats him as such. Precisely because Dragons are naturally greedy, to be generous to another is seen as a sign of great friendliness, even more so than it is among Ponies.
Oh no, I meant "wyrd" as in "destiny." It's essentially a synonym of "doom" in the older meaning ot the two words. (It's semantically related to "wyrd" because it's basically the "word of fate.").
Luna sees Dragons like Fischfootur -- ones who are willing to make the effort to connect with Pony culture and see Ponies as natural friends rather than foes -- as holding open the possibility of a bright future of alliance between the two species. She very much wants Fischfootur to survive and prosper, hence the advice she gave him on how to be respected rather than seen as a traitor by Dragonkind.
It's not so much that a foal is crying. It's that it is crying psychically, and on a Cosmic frequency.
Luna is responding to the infant distress call of her own kind. Her true kind.
It's only because she feels that Fischfootur should have great courtesy extended to him that she even bothers to explain herself before flying out of that cave.
I am extremely glad that you like what I'm doing with these characters. Since your work is one of the main reasons I got into writing these fanfics -- because you showed just how one could tell deeper stories in this universe -- I greatly value your approval here.
...Alright, time to back track. Too much worldbuilding without the foundations. This "Shadow" thing seems awesome.
Draconic bronies. You created draconic bronies.
...
You know, I shouldn't even be surprised. Not just because of Spike. Consider Garble's attitude towards ponies in "Dragon Quest." That's not just arrogance, that is active loathing. Why would such a proud creature loathe what he perceives as weak? Because they have, in his eyes, weakened other dragons. The proud warrior cannot countenance cultural conquest.
In any case, an excellent Luna story thus far. Looking forward to more, especially since Luna's other challenger is rather less likely to be a Pony-Friend.
This is interesting, really! Keep it up.
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Why thank you. My main point is that generosity and social manipulativeness are not necessarily contradictory qualities. In fact one needs to be a competent social manipulator in order to be effectively generous, rather than merely a sucker. Rarity knows precisely when, what and how to give to actually help the recipient; what's more, she's very good at identifying the mutually-beneficial exchanges which are the essence of productive trade and persuading others to make them with her.
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Fixed the archaic-grammar errors. I remember that when I wrote that I thought "I'm not sure I'm right, this looks wrong" but couldn't figure out where. Thank you for pointing these out!
Not much for the deep philosophical comments so will get right to the point. how is the next chapter coming along ?
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Heh -- well, I just popped out a chapter of The Fall of Hive Hunger-Prime -- I should probably write something more cheerful now! Which, ultimately, All the Way Back is, because Luna does recover.
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good enough, thanks for the info.
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'Tis good to hear!
Have a 100 like.
This is one of the stories where you get angry at your computer for not loading it in its entirity. Your Luna is great, and your pony-friend Dragon was a brilliant OC. Good work!
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Why, thank you!
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Ah, you too
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The gronckle... I saw it. Meat
lugpacker andFishFischlegsfootur... they got gender switched.