The Moon is a Harsh Mistress

by NavyPony

To Try Again

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress
by NavyPony

Chapter Six:
To Try Again

It was ninety-eight minutes until moonrise, and it was a very unusual evening.

A pair of charcoal-coated Royal Guards, both members of the Unicorn Corps to boot, flanked the double doors he was approaching. Their presence didn’t bother him in the slightest – there were bigger things on his mind. In fact, he wouldn’t actually have given them a second thought had one not moved when he arrived, because that was weird. These were supposed to be the crème-de-la-crème of the Guard – the best of the best, with honors. They were the ones entrusted with the most dangerous of missions. They could literally tear others to shreds just by thinking about it. The right-hoof guardspony trembled when Nightlight arrived.

It wasn’t overt – hardly a shiver, really, and if it had been any other pony it wouldn’t have meant anything. It was only their normally perfect stillness that made it noticeable. Here were ponies that had faced off against hydras and ursae, who could bombard their enemies with magic swords and telekinetic salvos, whose very cutie marks symbolized victory and courage, and who were among the most respected members of the Royal Guard. And on the other hoof, here was he: most famous for a hoofnote in a textbook that nopony probably read, armed only with his illumination spells, his flank marked with a lightbulb, and just a night steward. He wasn’t even a full steward, for that matter. Dark coat notwithstanding, he paled in comparison to the guards before him. A pony in his horseshoes would have had to be verifiably insane to face something that made the Unicorn Corps shake in fear and not be afraid himself.

Nightlight was quite proud of the fact that he was not insane, but it didn’t make him any happier about his position. Strictly speaking, it probably made things worse, because insanity would have been a great excuse to run away and never come back. ‘Not that some ponies wouldn’t cite sanity as a great reason to do the same thing.’ In the last forty-eight hours, it had become common knowledge throughout the castle that the most dangerous and frightening thing in all of Canterlot, if not all of Equestria, was Princess Luna. And as far as every servant in the castle was concerned, Nightlight was just preparing to make things worse: he was going to wake her up.

It was ninety-seven minutes until moonrise, and for all of its déjà vu, it was a very unusual evening.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

It had started off as strangely as any day in his life, and just slid downhill from there. To start it off, he’d been woken up by an irate Moon Goddess, gotten Stared, regained consciousness as an automaton talking to the Sun Goddess, ended up eavesdropping on an argument between Equestria’s immortal rulers, left the castle in the middle of the day, happed across the alcoholic paramour of one of his sisters, at the house of a different of his sisters, and been convinced by said paramour to go back to a job he’d officially quit. So when he got back in the early afternoon and tried to cram in a couple hours of sleep before his duties began, irony could only permit one pony to wake him up.

“Noo~oon Na~ap…” Nightlight groaned, holding back the more colorful names he was making up for the Secondary Night Steward. “Go awa~ay… ‘f I don’ getsome sleep b’fore tonight… I- just… something. I’ve still got… Uggh.” Checking the clock at his bedside was too much effort. ‘Besides, I set the alarm and it hasn’t gone off yet. Hopefully.’ Sleeping through his alarm would be just what he needed right now. “What time is it?”

“Somepony’s eloquent this evening.” Noon Nap always followed his snarks with a scoff, as if other ponies weren’t smart enough to recognize his sarcasm; this one was so pronounced it made his poofy mane jiggle. “And for the record, it’s, hold on… three thirty, not that it matters. Time to get up.”

“Still got… fifty minutes,” he muttered futilely, rolling over to face his pillow. “Sleep inertia… Object at rest… Stays at rest…”

“That’s ‘stays at rest, sir’, and that’s too bad. Quill says I’m supposed to get you for something important – a special assignment, I think…” He cocked his head oddly, as if the scene might have seemed familiar to him, too, but his moment of prescience passed just as quickly as it came. Without further ado he returned to his usual and belligerent self. “Between you screwing stuff up and me getting in trouble, I’ll take the former every day of the week.” The sky-blue pegasus took ahold of Nightlight’s mattress before launching himself into the air, flipping the mattress over and unceremoniously dumping his subordinate into a drowsy puddle. “And twice on Sundays. Rise and shine, bucko!”

Nightlight was tempted to stay under his heap of pillows, blankets, mattress, and seething rage, but as far as he could see, there wasn’t a point. With an angry whicker and his best imitation of Princess Luna’s scowl, he rose from the pile of bedding (taking the anger with him) and marched to this wing’s nearest bathrooms. “It’s not Sunday…”

“Ahem?” The smug pegasus didn’t even feign a cough – he actually said the word ‘ahem’.

“It’s not Sunday… sir.”

After brushing his teeth, a long-overdue shower, a leisurely brushing of his mane and tail, and getting a coffee from the nearest common room (the most important part of today’s routine, given his lack of sleep), Nightlight bored of his passive-aggressive resistance. Also, he burned through the easy ploys to make his boss wait on him, but that was only a secondary concern. ‘Only secondary. Right.’ He finally followed the prickly pegasus to the Night Stewards’ Office, but he didn’t even approach the hurried pace his flustered boss was urging; his alarm clock had been scheduled to go off for another ten minutes.

Nightlight soon found that he wasn’t being summoned by Star Quill for a ‘special assignment’, because once he arrived at the Night Stewards’ Office, the Primary Night Steward led him across the castle to an office that was much more regal and much less closet-like. It made the young steward feel bad about wasting so much time; he’d thought this whole… whatever it was, was taking place on Star Quill’s initiative (she was not present), but instead the summons were Snowy Slopes’ personal orders.

The old steward was seated in the comfortable chair on the other side of his small desk, but instead of personal effects and photographs, almost every inch of it was deluged with official documents and notes. Not even the picture of Snowy standing beside Princess Celestia remained visible under the mess. ‘Give it another couple months, and it might get as crowded as the Night Stewards’ Office,’ the younger steward considered, trying to imagine such a scene made real. ‘Fewer bookshelves, more filing cabinets, and put some coffee stains on the- wait… Why does he get carpet in his office when we’re stuck with linoleum?’

If Slopes noticed Nightlight sizing up the mess in his office, his professionalism forbade showing it; he steepled his hooves on the desk’s least cluttered spot and began in a surprisingly soft tone. “Mister Nightlight, do you know why I’ve called you here?” asked the Head Steward.

“Well…” Unprepared, the younger pony said the first thing that came to his mind: the truth. “No,” he admitted. ‘Although I imagine it’ll be inconvenient, my luck being what it is.’ But cynicism aside, there was still no real choice – the word of the Head Steward was law in Castle Canterlot. “Honestly, sir, I’m a little bit surprised you knew I was here, what with our discussion last…” He had to think about it. Keeping track of what had happened when was made infinitely more difficult on account of the Stare. “Yesterday, I think it was?”

The hoary unicorn waved a hoof into the air and nodded firmly, dismissing the question entirely. “Yes, well, the Princ-, excuse me, Princess Celestia spoke with me this morning. It was concerning certain matters that have been weighing heavily on Her mind.” Snowy Slopes’ glare became colder and more focused, subtly adding ‘and those matters were you.’ Nightlight’s face blanched at the implication. “And when she learned of your prior resignation, she expressed even further distress about last night’s events…”

Nightlight had to repress a sigh at this point. This was an attempted guilt trip coupled with an appeal to his sense of duty. Snowy was going to explain that the Princ-, that is, Princess Celestia, would be quite distraught if he resigned his position, and wouldn’t he, if only to ease the already beleaguered mind of their (Co-)Sovereign, please consider returning to his post? And the funny thing about it? Even though he knew how Snowy was trying to manipulate him, and despite having already decided to stay (at least long enough to find a replacement), it was still effective. ‘Please, oh please, make it stop…’

“…spent more than a year working here, and I’m confident you understand that your role goes beyond the one defined in your job description. Above all, it is our duty to see that the Princess is- pardon, the Princesses, are able to…”

He’d have liked to interrupt here, really. Before here, actually. Stamping his hooves on the ground, creating a bright flash of light for dramatic effect, screaming and swearing… it’d have been appropriate considering how unfair a guilt trip like this was. ‘You deserve it. And it’d be fun, too,’ offered a particularly untrustworthy thought. ‘Besides… you don’t have time for this, do you?’ That last one, however, he had to agree with. There were things Nightlight should’ve been doing, so yes, he interrupted.

But not like that. Slowly, timidly, and above all else, deceptively, Nightlight raised a thin hoof into the air, the slow way a grade school foal might ask an embarrassing question or confess to not knowing an answer. The meekness was intended, but he was still interrupting Celestia’s right-hoof pony, and it certainly helped augment his performance.

It was not long before the pontificating steward noticed the frail hoof go up. “…which is to say that- Mister Nightlight?” Slopes asked, himself thrown off by the younger pony’s behavior. “Do you have a question?”

“No sir, it’s just… I had already decided to stay. For a while, at least,” Nightlight conceded cautiously. “And with all due respect,” and he meant that in the least sarcastic way possible, “I think you’re preaching to the choir, sir. Abandoning my post would be… disloyal, and I understand that. I wouldn’t have come back, and I wouldn’t still be here, if I didn’t agree with you.”

Snowy Slopes raised a bushy white eyebrow as the junior steward finished. “Oh? Well said, Mister Nightlight. Very well said indeed,” he declared. It was high praise coming from the Head Steward. “In that case…” He began shuffling through the clutter that was his desk. After a brief search, he pulled a series of antique tomes out from under his desk, closely followed by a thick portfolio of papers. They seemed vaguely familiar. “Aah, here we go. You’ll probably be wanting to keep these.”

It was Nightlight’s turn to raise an eyebrow, albeit one that was much less luxuriant than the senior steward’s. “Umm, sir?” he asked, indicating the intimidatingly large stack of manuscripts before him. “What are these?”

The older unicorn practically did a double take at the question. “Why, they’re the documents we went over two nights ago, when you got this job. And these,” he produced a trio of folders and a pair of oversized binders as he spoke, “are copies of the paperwork your assistant filed last night. Quite a prolific display, that was.”

“Assistant? Last night?” the dark pony echoed questioningly. “I get an assistant?”

“To be precise, the position is chief clerk,” Slopes responded, walking across his office to examine the contents of a dusty bookshelf. “But it more or less amounts to the same thing. We assigned her to the post last night, while we also tried addressing the recent... hmm, outflux of castle staff.”

“Funny, sir… I don’t remember having an assistant. Or clerk.” Or whatever. “Where is she?”

Snowy Slopes exhaled softly when he heard the question. “In a remarkable fit of irony,” he divulged, pulling several texts from his office’s shelves, “she joined the aforementioned outflux.”

“How… very typical, sir.”

“Yes, well, I suppose that would be a fair assessment.” Slopes scoffed, marching back to his desk with a small collection of books and placing them beside the already formidable stack of documents. He began shuffling the papers, binders, and now books together (presumably alphabetically) in a neat display of telekinesis while he continued. “Which is why I’m also giving you an additional volume or two that I think will help you in your duties. I expect you’ll want to peruse them, as well as the official paperwork here, at your leisure,” the stallion presumed aloud, floating it all across the desk to Nightlight.

“Leisure?” ‘Oh, that.’ “Yes, at my leisure. Naturally.” Trying to figure out when he’d next have free time (short answer: never), Nightlight wrapped his own magic around the proffered papers, transforming them into an amorphous heap in the process. “Thank you, sir.”

One of the other unicorn’s eyes gave an involuntary twitch as his carefully-organized stacks crumbled under the hold of Nightlight’s shoddy telekinesis. “Well, in that case,” he said, grimacing, “do you have any questions? Are you ready?”

“Umm, sir?” Trying to balance the mass of documents in the air, Nightlight was too distracted to really listen to what he was hearing. “Ready?”

Slopes just shook his head dismally. “Your first task: waking the Princess up.”

‘Oh. That.’ He was so not ready. “Yessir.”

And so after trudging back to his quarters, Nightlight dumped his freshly-acquired library in the middle of the floor and went to make his rounds. Or he would have, except his conversation with the Head Steward, what with Slopes’ longwindedness and Nightlight’s awkward silences, had taken rather longer than it should have. Without the opportunity to see the libraries, courts, kitchens (especially the kitchens), or any of the other places and ponies he’d intended to visit and speak with, all the anxious colt could do was pray to somepony that things went smoothly before heading out to wake Luna.

Considering to whom he was praying, the whole situation was rather ironic.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

He took a step towards the menacing-looking charcoal guards standing on either side of the doorway to the Princess’ chambers. They both knew who he was and what he was there for, but he said it anyways. “I’m Nightlight, the Assistant to the Secondary Night Steward, and Her Hoofservant. I’ve come to…” He faltered when he noticed the right-hoof guardspony tremble again. The reality of what he was doing came back all at once, and with an unpleasant bit a déjà vu. “Um… I’ve come to, to wake the Princess.”

In near-unison, the gold-barded guards nodded in salute and stepped to either side, quickly returning to almost-stillness. A bead of sweat dripped from the left guard’s chin. The one on the right subtly watched him magick open the towering mahogany doors. For his part, Nightlight just focused on putting one hoof in front of the other, and stepped slowly into the consuming darkness of Princess Luna’s chambers.

He cast his darkvision spell. This time he was focused. Nothing was going to distract him from his goal. ‘Nothing at all.’ He wasn’t going to waste time looking at the scenery – he was just going to march over to the Princess’ bed and wake Her up. He certainly wasn’t distracted by the stark contrast between this room and the rest of the castle, what with the hardwood floors and brick fireplace. The antique decorations and old-fashioned furniture definitely didn’t faze him. He didn’t even notice the curtained balcony, and completely ignored the alicorn sleeping in the four-posted bed which- ‘Wait, darn it, I’m actually supposed to notice that one.’ He took a controlled breath and pushed off his pretenses. ‘Apparently, pretending to be focused doesn’t help either.’ Oh well, it had been worth a shot. ‘Nothing lost.’

‘Except time. Now you’ve got…’ He glanced at the mantle, but even with his magically-enhanced eyes, he didn’t see the clock he’d remembered from the last time he was here. ‘Glue. How am I supposed to know how late I-’

‘Stop it, Night!’ he screamed in his head. ‘You won’t be late! You’ve bucked everything up so far, but this is your chance to get something right. You’re overdue for it. Just wake Her up. You’re ready.’

Then one of the problems from last time reared its ugly head. ‘How do you even wake a goddess up?’ He didn’t know. ‘You can’t just-’

Night took a deep breath and mentally chastised himself. ‘Stop psyching yourself out! You can do this!’ He could do this. ‘It’s your job!’ It was his job. ‘You’re ready!’

He was so not ready. ‘She’s going to snap awake and start screaming again. Then she’ll Stare me again, and scream at me some more. It’ll be like last time, except worse.’ Not for the first time, and not for the last time, Nightlight considered just walking away. He was afraid, and he wasn’t ready.

But he did it anyways. Instinctively tensing up to recoil, he spoke. “Umm, Princess Luna?” he asked, barely coming above a whisper. “Your Highness?”

Princess Luna, Mare of the Moon, Head of the Moon Court, First of the Selene Order, Co-Ruler of Equestria, and bearer of several titles both fearsome and unspeakable, awoke. Her eyes slid open, her ethereal mane lifted a couple inches higher, and she rose to a sitting position on her bed; she yawned loudly, stretched her forelegs, and flapped her wings a couple times for good measure. It was… ‘almost like a regular pony,’ Nightlight considered. ‘Except her size. And her mane. And being an alicorn. But aside from the physical differences she almost seems…’ He’d never have admitted it, but the word that came to mind was ‘normal’.

Then she noticed Nightlight, and he forgot all about that. “Hoofservant,” the ancient mare articulated coldly. “Thou art returned. Wherefore?”

“I-I… That…” He had to overcome the shivers running down his spine before he could pronounce a proper answer, and he genuinely hoped it was the proper answer, because it was the only one he had. “I, I am Your hoofservant, Your M-Majesty, and You… n-never, told me to leave.”

Luna’s visage went from cross to… maybe bemusement, or exasperation. ‘Or indignation?’ suggested Nightlight’s inner pessimist. Whatever it was, though, the trembling stallion didn’t imagine it might be good. He simply watched in fear, cold sweat beginning to drench his coat, as the Moon Princess rose to her hooves. She leapt gracefully to the floor, landing before Nightlight with a single beat of her large wings and an unsettling glare, and took one step forwards. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates when it struck him: ‘Unless… what if She did tell me to leave? Maybe the reason I was trying to leave all of yesterday is because She told me to leave yesterday. Like when I was forced to speak with the Princ-, the other Princess. It’s like posthypnotic suggestion.’ He shrunk down about four inches as the thoughts played out. ‘Clop me. Oh Celestia, I wasn’t supposed to come back! Clop me, clop me with the moon! I should go back and tell Slopes that I was-’

“Very well,” Luna muttered dispassionately, yawning for a second time. “Retrieve Our coronet,” She commanded, stepping firmly into the ornate shoes at her bedside.

The sounds that came out of the steward’s mouth turned out very much like his thoughts – confused, namely. “Wuhh- *ahem* Y-your Highness?”

There was a slow moment as the alicorn turned to look at Nightlight, glaring at him in disbelief. “Our coronet. The Lunar Diadem.” She raised a silver-shod hoof, pointing it slowly at Nightl- no, no, pointing over his head and across the room. Lying against the wall was a plain tiara of pitch-black material, sized for a slightly smaller pony than Princess Luna. “Retrieve it.”

“Yes, Yo-”

“Now.”

This time Nightlight started moving before opening his mouth. “Y-Y-Yes, Y-Your H-H-Highness!” he stuttered, scurrying across the room as fast as his spindly legs would take him. At least she wasn’t quite yelling at him.

Luna wrenched the little tiara from his grasp as he approached and set it gently upon her head. “Tis apparent that thy backward priorities are maintained; it shouldst be thou that waits upon Us. Be thy behavior not contrariwise?” she uttered severely, not deigning to look at him as she adjusted her headdress. “Thou art… We understand the phrase to be ‘setting off on the wrong hoof’. Mayhaps it befits.”

Nightlight could only bow his head in apology; tonight was ending up suspiciously similar to his first evening as Lunar Hoofservant, and it had hardly started. ‘Well, it can only go up from here, right?’

He was wrong - not only could the evening have gone downhill from there, it did, although not in the way Nightlight would have expected. It was, after all, something of an unusual evening.

To start with, Princess Luna needed her circlet just so, and without a mirror in the room to assist her (‘Why was that thing never replaced?’) and her only observer too short to be of much assistance, situating the little tiara correctly was a matter of trial and error. It took nearly a dozen attempts to get it right, and every time she took it off because it was tilted, or wasn’t perfectly center-facing, or was sitting too far forwards, her mood would deteriorate further. When the two of them finally exited Her bedchamber, the Lunar Princess was downright livid, and was made especially terrifying by her atypical quiet. Nightlight didn’t have to call upon his experience to realize that she was ready to bite off the metaphorical head of the next pony to displease her. His experience did tell him, however, that said pony was going to be him.

Once again, he was wrong. When the Princess swung open the doors to Her chambers, the left sentinel, the trembler from earlier, jumped. It wasn’t any sort of a mere figure of speech, either – it wasn’t a twitch or a violent shudder, but a full-fledged hooves-off-the-ground scared-off-his-flank jump, and more significantly, it was something for Luna’s bubbling wrath to hone in on. One furious Old Equestrian tirade later, and the burly unicorn was fleeing from the scene, doing his best (and failing) to hold back tears.

She then did the same to the other guardspony, because he was the higher ranking of the ponies outside her door, and was therefore responsible for the trembler’s actions, and by allowing such a cowardly pony to stand watch outside Her Highness’ door the senior guard had failed both Her and Equestria, and was just as unfit for service in the Guard and the Unicorn Corps as his subordinate. Both the unicorn’s retreat and Her Highness’ rant made for impressive run-ons.

But there was still one pony in the hallway.

While it was unacceptable for her chambers to be unguarded, it was thoroughly intolerable for her sentinels to be lily-livered. Nightlight was to remedy the situation forthright while the princess… did something government-related. Nightlight wasn’t entirely sure what ‘attending to the royal constitution’ meant, but it seemed to be something that the princess intended to do on her own. In the meantime, Her hoofservant was to remedy the most recent problem before She broke fast.

So, with stuttered apologies and fearful assurances, the young stallion galloped off to the nearest guardhouse.

Canterlot Castle was proposed within a week of Nightmare Moon’s banishment, when Princess Celestia decided that she couldn’t stand to live in the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters – it reminded her too much of Luna. While construction only began several months later and it wasn’t completed for many years after that, the rightful government of Equestria was still on shaky ground during the planning phase of the castle. Social unrest had been at an all-time high, and the Lunar Rebellion was still a military threat. And of course, nopony – no loyal pony, wanted a repeat of the Rebellion. So everypony involved in the construction of the castle – advisors, architects, and even the artists, had one solution: guards. Canterlot Castle was to be filled with guards.

Of course, Nightlight didn’t know any of this. He had no clue why the oldest sections of the palace had so many guardsponies barracked in seemingly-random places. To him, it had simply meant more out-of-the-way places needing cleaning, more ponies that needed meals delivered at nights, and more broken furniture to replace, but for the first time in his life, he was thankful for it. Exactly two floors down and one hallway over was one such guardhouse, complete with dormitories, armory, and a very nervous on-duty guard.

The gold-barded earth pony looked young enough to still be in high school, and he sounded like it, too. “Sir or Ma’am,” the colt asked, voice cracking, “how can I help you, sir or ma’am?”

Nightlight didn’t think twice about the unusual mode of address as he rushed into the little foyer and up to the desk the on-duty guard stood behind. “Yes! Guards. I need a pair of guards. Immediately.”

The guard’s jaw dropped for a moment, faced with an out-of-breath stranger rushing onto his post with such an outrageous demand. “Umm… Sir or Ma’am, I don’t think that we can do that. We don’t just… give guards out. Unless you’re in danger? If you’d like, I can ask the sir about it tomorrow, but I don’t think-”

“No!” Nightlight interjected, still breathing hard from the run. “I, I need the guards for the Princess. Luna needs guards, not me. Outside Her room. I’m just getting them.”

“Umm… I’m pretty sure that there are already ponies assigned for that post. Sir or Ma’am.” The youthful guardspony pointed a hoof to a white board which dominated one of the small room’s walls. It was covered with a slew of numbers and letters which made minimal sense to Nightlight, but must’ve been perfectly intelligible to the young earth pony. “See? We’re only supposed to have that post between sunset and sunrise. The Unicorn Corps has it right now. You should probably go to guard house seven or thirteen and talk to-”

Visions of angry alicorns danced in his mind. “I don’t care,” Nightlight snapped, raising a hoof into the air. “This is the closest post to Her room, so it’s the one I came to. And it’s the Princess we’re talking about! Can’t you just… I don’t know, send someponies?”

“I… no? Sir or Ma’am, I’m just the Corporal of the Watch,” the guard admitted with an apologetic smirk. “I can’t change the watchbill like that. I don’t even think the sir can do that. Maybe the Officer of the Watch can, if it’s an emergency. But now… the Unicorn Corps has that post. We could get in big trouble for stepping on their hooves like that.”

Nightlight had to fight the urge to slam his own head into the floor. “But they’re not there right now! What about just a while? Can’t you… do… I don’t know – something? Even temporarily?”

“I… look. I’m just the Corporal of the Watch. All I do is make rounds and fill out the logbooks. That’s it. If it’s really important, I’m allowed to get the CDO – that’s the Company Duty Officer, I mean. Maybe he can help you.”

Now he had to fight the urge to slam his head into the guardspony in front of him rather than just the floor. “Of course it’s bucking important! We’re talking about the Princess, for crying out loud!” Nightlight shouted at the lone guard. “Just get somepony who can help me before-”

His plea turned out to be unnecessary when a dark-coated stallion swung open the door labeled ‘Armory’. He wasn’t wearing armor or insignia, but the way he carried himself suggested that he was a guardspony, and more importantly, that he got things done. Stopping in the doorway, the well-muscled earth pony examined the scene before him with a critical eye. “What’s with all the yelling? What’s going on here, Focale?” he asked, his gaze settling upon the younger guard.

Focale, as the young corporal was evidently named, tried unsuccessfully to explain the situation. “Sir? It’s um, this pony – the servant, that uh… well, he – or she, I mean, arrived in spaces-” the stuttering stallion referenced his books, “-about ninety seconds ago. And I was filling out the logs. And then-”

The room’s most recent arrival rolled his eyes and addressed Nightlight instead. “You then – Lunar Hoofservant? What’s going on?”

Nightlight just shrugged helplessly. “There are no guards outside Princess Luna’s room and- wait, how-”

“Guard-s?” the larger stallion interjected, emphasizing the plurality of the word. “Could it be just one?”

“I don’t…” It was something the unicorn hadn’t ever considered. ‘Surely Princess Luna wants two guards outside her chambers – not just one.’ Nightlight had never seen a lone guard until two nights ago. Guards came in pairs. It was a fact. Like gravity. But… “One guard’s better than, none, I guess.”

“Very well.” The large guard reached a hoof back through the armory’s doorway and without deigning to look, retrieved an entire suit of barding. He began to don it with practiced ease, cinching and buckling straps and snaps in a blur.

In the meantime, the Corporal of the Watch managed to pick his jaw off the floor. “But, sir?” The younger earth pony motioned towards the same white board he’d just shown to Nightlight. “Sir, we don’t have the post until sunset. It’s the Corps right now, and-”

“Think about the big picture, Focale,” the larger guard lectured. “It’s not the unicorns who have the post – it’s the Royal Guard that has the post, and we are part of the Royal Guard. Ergo, it is our duty to see that the post is filled. This is more important than politics,” he concluded, snugging his pauldrons into place. “Let’s go, Hoofservant.”

“But, umm… Sir? This isn’t your watch.” He pointed to the white board. Again. “And if your gear leaves spaces, I’m technically supposed to check it out in the logs, and the Captain won’t be happy if she finds out about it, you know.” A vague strain of hesitancy entered the younger guard’s voice. “I mean… should I…”

“Do what’s right and cover your flank, Focale – sign my stuff out. After all,” he said with a forced chuckle, “what’s she going to do? Strip my commission?” The lieutenant rammed a golden helmet onto his head with a snort and marched out. “Come on, Hoofservant. Let’s go.”

‘Something went right. Something finally went right.’ Nightlight couldn’t keep the grin off his face or the skip out of his step while he cantered back to Luna’s chambers with his austere companion. The guardspony noticed. “You seem happy,” he mumbled, clinking along in his armor. “I suppose today’s going better than Monday night was?”

“Oh definitely. It’s been loads better than- Hold on, I met you on Monday?” Nightlight gave the guard a thorough look over only to remember a tenth of a second later that some ninety-nine percent of guards looked more or less the same to his eyes. After the coat color, race, and gender, few ponies looked too closely at a guard, and Nightlight was no exception. “I… spoke to several guards that night… could you, uh, refresh my memory?”

The other pony was unoffended by the forgetfulness, rolling his shoulders in a casual shrug. Casual for a guard, at least. “Ah. Technically it was Tuesday morning; you were running around the castle like a chicken with its head cut off - pretending to search for Her, actually searching for Her, and all that with the mirror? Honestly, I’m kind of surprised you lasted that night, let alone came back for more.”

“You were the guard outside Her room, weren’t you? The one who-”

“The one whose partner ran away while on watch? That’s me.” If Nightlight had been less caught up in his own affairs he might’ve heard the hint of bitterness in the larger stallion’s voice.

Of course, he might not have – reading other ponies’ emotions was not the young steward’s forte. “Actually, I was going to say ‘the one who actually helped me instead of arguing with me or making my night more difficult’. But your answer works too, I suppose.”

“It does.”

Nightlight decided to take the earth pony’s word. “Changing the subject then… can I ask you something?”

“Ignoring the obvious fact that you just did, yes, as long as it doesn’t take too long,” the guardspony muttered back. “We’re more than halfway to Her room, and I’m not going to make small talk with you once we get there – to talk to nopony except in line of duty, and all that.” He nodded in a self-affirming manner. “But until then, ask away.”

“Okay, why are you helping me like this? I mean… like I said, you’re the only one.”

The guard snorted roughly before responding. “Why I’m helping you? Because it’s the right thing to do; I’m a guard, and Her Highness needs a guard outside Her chambers. It’s more than enough of a reason.” He spoke like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Nightlight liked it. “But the question you’re trying to ask - that I think you’re trying to ask? It’s because my job description hasn’t changed in the last two days, and that makes things pretty easy for me.”

“That…” Nightlight was going to lie and say that the guardspony’s words made sense (the second half, at least), but he thought better of it halfway through. “That’s why you’re helping me?”

“It’d be more accurate to say that it’s why nopony else is,” the guard replied, a slightly exasperated edge to his voice. “But I suppose it’s very much the same thing. Either way, they don’t understand the difference between their job and their responsibilities. It’s just that- you know what? Don’t worry about it; I’m sure you’ll figure something out, and I’m not about to explain it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I left my soapbox in the guardhouse, for one. Also…” He nudged his head forwards with a blasé sigh, drawing attention to the large mahogany doors which had just come into sight. “We’re here, and I don’t really have the time. So unless you have anything I can answer quickly…”

He did, actually. “What’s your name?”

The dark earth pony looked at him like this was the most alien question he’d ever heard, before finally answering. “Midwatch,” he eventually declared, taking one of the usual positions in front of Luna’s door. “First Lieutenant Midwatch, Royal Guard.”

Worming Midwatch’s name out of him seemed like an achievement of sorts; the younger pony’s visage brightened slightly as he introduced himself in return. “I’m-”

“You’re the Lunar Hoofservant,” the officer interrupted sharply, his tone making Nightlight’s good spirits very short-lived. “And you’re not a very good one, I imagine. Don’t you have anything better to do than listen to an irritable guard lecture?”

“That…” The young pony’s thoughts snapped from shock to anger to unhappy revelation as he saw the truth of Midwatch’s words. “Uggh… clop it, you’re right. I, I have to go. I have to go and… and… I don’t know.” As usual, he began to panic. “Oh buck, I don’t know what to do next. How long did it take to get you? What time is it?” He started turning circles, looking over his shoulder. “Why don’t I see a clock? How am I supposed to know when-”

Lieutenant Midwatch chomped down on Nightlight’s lengthy tail, stopping his spinning. “I thtold you lathtime,” he slurred around a mouthful of pale yellow hair. “There’th no clock. Naw, if you’ll jutht cawlm down…” He spat Nightlight’s tail out. “It’ll be easier for you to figure out what to do next. You’ll find it’s easier to think straight when you’re not spinning in circles. Or prancing in place,” he added as the steward began shifting his weight from hoof-to-hoof anxiously. “Look, just calm down and think about it. What were you doing at this time yesterday?”

“No, I… No clue,” he said with a shrug, shaking his head. “I don’t remember.”

Suppressing a nicker, the guardspony just stared. Whether or not he believed the statement, he had enough level-headedness not to address the issue. Or else he simply didn’t care. “Monday, then. What were you doing this time on Monday?”

He looked back in his memory. ‘Wow, but that seems like forever ago. I had to wake Her up and… the moon was late.’ He shivered involuntarily at the thought. ‘Because I didn’t know where we were supposed to be going on the way back from…’ The answer was obvious. “Ah. Breakfast.”

Midwatch nodded gravely and opened his mouth, and Nightlight never heard what he said – the unicorn was already halfway down the corridor and turning down a staircase with a cry of, “Thank you!”

Left alone in the passageway, the gold-barded pony finally took up the eerie stillness which somehow came naturally to guards. “Don’t mention it.”

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

“Hoofservant,” She whispered, voice darker than the hue of Her coat, “thou needst not declare ignorance when the misease of thine deportment declares it so loudly. Being a conduct unbefitting one of Our retainers, ‘tis embarrassing to both thee and Us. For such reason, remedy thy failings sooner than pronounce them to the whole of Equestria,” she concluded, lips pursed thinly. “Dost thou understand?”

“I… I think s-,” Her gaze stopped him. ‘I think so,’ was not an appropriate response for a servant. “I mean, yes, Your Highness.” Nightlight’s eyes slid from left to right, once more taking in the otherwise-empty hallway. What were the chances that he’d run into the Princess on the way to the dining hall? ‘Low,’ he decided. What were the chances that Luna would notice the pony behind her before Nightlight even saw the flickerings of her spectral tail? ‘I don’t even know. She’s an alicorn.’ And what were the chances that he’d screw something up the moment he opened his mouth? ‘Pretty bucking high.’ She’d asked what the menu was this evening, and given how much time Mr. Slopes had taken from him this evening, Nightlight didn’t know – he hadn’t had time to visit the kitchens before waking the Princess.

But despite the validity of his excuses, Princess Luna considered them just that: excuses. “Then We inquire once more: what sort of board is drawn for Us this eve?”

“I’ll… I’ll find out, Your Highness,” he whispered, eyes glued to the floor. “I’ll, umm, head there now.” The young stallion bowed deeply, prostrating himself as She resumed her path to the Royal Dining Hall. “Is, is there anything else, Your Highness?”

Luna did not stop her march while answering, but if Nightlight could’ve seen her face he might’ve noticed a fresh emotion in her eyes. “Yes, actually.” Her timbre of voice sounded unique to her steward’s ears, as if she asking herself why she hadn’t spoken of this earlier. “As thou shouldst be aware, hitherto have We found displeasure with the selection of Our fare. See to it that Our sup is appropriate for breaking fast.”

In point of fact, Nightlight was very much unaware that- ‘Actually, no.’ He did remember there being a problem with that on his first night. Or that morning, rather. She’d wanted something savory that morning, instead of the sweet foods prepared. And by extension… “Of… of course, Princess. You just woke up. You want breakfast foods,” he affirmed. “I’ll… I’ll get on that right away.” He galloped past her towards the kitchens, intent on doing just that.

He wouldn’t have called the kitchens ‘chaos’, but that was because Nightlight recognized the turbulent movement as the rushed work of ponies fighting a deadline instead of the frenzy of confused amateurs. The half dozen or so chefs preparing the princesses’ evening meal scurried about with furious purpose, whisking ingredients from pantry to cutting board to pan to pot to oven in flurries of telekinesis and wings. They were like machines, moving with superpony precision and unnatural vigor, so absorbed in their efforts to make a perfect meal that they seemed to ignore everything unrelated to their tasks at hoof. So engrossed were they, that nopony looked twice at the dark-coated steward except to keep from running into him.

“Ala Mode! Mister Mode, where are you?” Nightlight shouted above the din of clinking utensils, humming appliances, and the mostly incomprehensible words hollered by the busy ponies running about the kitchen. He couldn’t see the pale green stallion anywhere. “Where’s the Head Chef? Has anypony seen Head Chef Mode? Hello? Does anypony hear me? Is anypony listening?!”

Only one pony answered, and it didn’t have the snooty accent of the pony Nightlight was trying to find. “Hear you? Sure, everypony, probably,” announced a demure, androgynous voice. “But listening? Uh… probably not. Listening is… it’s a lot complexer than hearing. Complexerer? That’s not right. It’s more complexer,” the disembodied voice decided with a long yawn. “Anyways, nopony’s listening. Unless you’re listening to yourself, I suppose. Are you?”

The laidback way the pony spoke struck a very specific chord in Nightlight’s memory. “Harvest Moon?” he called, scanning the kitchens for the unicorn he’d met two days prior. “If you’re answering me then you’re listening! Where are you?”

“I’m, hmm… here, I guess. Wherever here is.” The pony spoke hazily, too quietly for Nightlight to pinpoint through the kitchen’s hubbub. “But that’s not important right now. Instead, you should know that I talk in my sleep. I’m probably asleep right now.”

“Whuh? How, precisely, is that more important than the fact that you don’t know where you are? Where are you?”

“Because I’m probably not listening to you, and just so happen to be saying things that make sense in the context of everything you’re saying. Or maybe I’m a butterfly dreaming that I’m a pony who’s talking in her sleep. Or a pony dreaming that…” She yawned once more. “Hey, maybe you’re a butterfly, dreaming that you’re a pony stuck in some sort of cosmic comedy.”

“I’m not a butterfly!” Nightlight hissed vehemently. “I’m a pony in the castle kitchens, looking for-”

“Where in the castle’s kitchens are you?”

“Huh? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Lots,” the mare murmured. “Like, if you’re looking for food, you need to look near the refrigerators, the pantries, or the cellars, not near the appliances or utensil storage areas. Likewise, if you’re looking for someplace to sleep, you should be looking in cabinets that aren’t normally used, assuming you don’t mind tight spaces. Cellars and pantries sound like nice places to nap, but they’re so busy that you can’t get more than five minutes without somepony walking in, and refrigerators… refrigerators are right out.”

Nightlight couldn’t decide whether or not the mare’s words were intentional in their unhelpfulness, or even if it really mattered. ‘But speaking of places a pony would sleep in the kitchens…’ There might’ve been something to that. “Uhh… hold on. Are than any good spots near the…” Nightlight didn’t know the kitchens well enough to describe his location without looking about. “Near a row of sinks and a large ice machine? There’re a couple cutting boards by the ice machine, and some large pots hanging above one of the sinks.”

“Sure. The sink furthest from that ice machine is out of order because somepony took the pipes out from underneath it and clogged up the drain. Also, it might be full of old tablecloths and other comfortable things that nopony cares about,” Harvest Moon explained lethargically. “Why? Aren’t you too busy to be taking naps right now?”

“Aren’t you?” the young stallion quipped in return, yanking open the doors to the mentioned cabinets with a splash of telekinesis and a scowl. Nightlight wasn’t at all shocked when a midnight blue mare with a wavy red mane and half-lidded eyes tumbled from beneath the sink, but the same couldn’t be said when he saw the score or two of potatoes that fell out with her. “Filled with comfortable things, you said?”

She had to squint against the sudden brightness, but the Lunar Chef’s absentminded tone was entirely unaffected by her sudden appearance. “Nopony’s ever told me I wasn’t, so I like to assume that I’m comf- Oh, look: you found me. I told you I was here,” she commented absently, a faraway smile on her thin lips. “What’s up, Mister Hoofservant?”

“Mister? Harvest Moon that’s… you know, I don’t have time for that discussion right now. I need to check on the Princess’ dinner – or breakfast, or…” Nightlight didn’t really know if there was a proper name for the meal you eat after waking up at night, so he was forced to settle on, “Whatever.”

The Lunar Chef was already beginning to gather the dozens of potatoes that littered the nearby floor, picking them up in her mouth and hauling them back to her little cabinet. “Weh, Ah’m naht thtawpin’ yah-” The one she’d been trying to carry slipped from her grip as she spoke, rolling a couple yards and under the nearby ice machine. “Fillyfeathers,” she swore, chasing after it. “I don’t think I can reach.”

Nightlight did his best to ignore the mare’s awkwardness as she tried reaching under the large appliance with her forehooves. “Umm… Can you tell me where the Head Chef is?” he asked, using his magic to pull the now dust-coated potato out from where it had rolled.

“Yeah, sure,” she hummed, returning to her task.

It took Nightlight rather longer than it should have to realize that his question had technically been answered, nevermind his intention. “Uh, Harvest Moon? I’m in a hurry; I really need to find out what they’re cooking for the Princess.”

Not a beat was missed. “Pot-roasted turnip with apple and raisin gravy, stuffed tomatoes, an alfalfa and mint salad with raspberry dressing, and deviled quail eggs. Say, why do you suppose they call them ‘deviled’ when- Hey. You’re looking kind of funny. Funnier than usual, I mean. But not that usual is usually funny, so it’s probably not a good phrase. Anyways, are you okay? Mister Hoofservant?”

Nightlight mentally slapped himself. He’d wasted however long searching for the Head Chef when Harvest Moon- no, probably everypony in the kitchen, could’ve answered his question, and he hadn’t even thought to ask them because… “I’m so stupid.”

She stopped mid-stride, cocking her head to the side when she heard this. “Really? Because you don’t look stupid – just funny. And nauseous, I guess. More nauseous than funny. Hey, do you want a bucket? There’s one under the- actually, just use the sink, maybe. Use that one, and on the side with the garbage disposal. It’s industrial strength, you know; I once saw it choppa-choppa through eight knives, six forks, and a spoon in one go, and…”

Nightlight ignored the other unicorn and her speech – there was a more important issue at hoof than his suddenly-realized foolishness or the strength of the kitchen’s garbage disposals: Luna’s meal. “Harvest Moon?” the stallion called, “I need you to cook something for me.”

While the Lunar Chef apparently found the garbage disposal a fascinating device, the consideration thereof seemed to pale in comparison to the prospect of cooking something – her face brightened considerably at Nightlight’s entreaty. “Oh, sure. I mean, hunger’s like the opposite of nausea, but I guess I sometimes mix them up. Anyways, just so you know, there aren’t any big turnips left. If you want some of those, you’ll have to have the leftovers from-”

There was obviously a misunderstanding – Nightlight might’ve been hungry, but the food wasn’t for him. ‘Nor is it supposed to be turnips or tomatoes.’ Those things, after all, were the problem. “No. Breakfast food, please. Princess Luna wants breakf-” Harvest Moon’s face fell just the way an imploding building collapsed upon itself; Nightlight had forgotten the effect Luna’s name had caused on Monday. “Buck.”

“I told you the other day: I’m not allowed to cook for the Princess. Or the other Princess,” she added. “The whole ‘I’m not allowed to cook for the Princess’ rule is important. It’s even more important than ‘don’t switch to peanut butter when you run out of the non-peanutty kind,’ and that’s saying something,” she bemoaned, the sound of personal experience coloring her voice. “Look, if the Head Chef ever found out, I’d get fired, and even though he sometimes says he wants to fire me and doesn’t mean it, this time he would mean it. I’m not allowed to cook for the Princess,” she repeated, her voice atypically emphatic. “It’s the rule.”

Nightlight could hardly form words at the sheer stupidity of the situation. Harvest Moon was supposed to be Luna’s personal chef, and yet… she wouldn’t/shouldn’t/couldn’t cook for Her. “Isn’t it your job to make food for the Princess? Please, what’s more important than the Princess?”

“No~othing,” she moaned back, shaking her head and mane in a slow, oscillating rhythm. “And that’s why I’m not allowed to cook for Her. There’s the whole ‘breaking rules makes other ponies get food poisoning’ thing, and I would get in so much trouble if She got sick because of me. Or if She got sick because of anypony else, too. That’s how it works.”

‘Déjà vu, no?’ And the night had almost seemed like it was starting to turn around, too.

“Look,” Harvest Moon finally sighed, “I want to. You’re being nice, and the Princess wants food, and I like making food, and those are all things, but I’m not allowed to cook anything for Her. I can make whatever I want for any of the regular dumb-type nobles, or for me, or you, or other servants, or even those guards with weak constitutions, but I’m-”

Nightlight was somewhere between panicking and going to fix Her Highness a bowl of cereal when inspiration struck him like a dropped piano. “Say that again.”

“What, the guards? Some of their constitutions are really bad; it’s like they just rolled di-”

“No, before that.” The mare was still refusing to cook for the Moon Princess, but… “You can cook for me?”

“Sure,” she mumbled whimsically, cocking her head to the side without changing her expression. “But you didn’t want any last time. You said it was ‘unique,’ I think. I remember because that was a much nicer way of describing my recipes than usual, although that might just be because that one actually turned out really well, and maybe you could tell. It was almost as good as I was imagining when I added the strawberry bits, and that might not’ve been the best touch. Do you like str-”

“No, Harvest, go back,” he pleaded. “If you were to cook something for me… I could do whatever I wanted with it without you getting in trouble, right?”

“Unless it made you sick, and then you told somepony I made you sick. Hey, on the subject of which…”

“No, but I could eat it myself, or save it for later… or even share it with somepony else? As long as it was originally intended for me?”

“Sure. Wait, no, not quite. You couldn’t share it with sompony else if they don’t want you to share it with them…” she said, seeming unconscious of Nightlight’s intentions. “Unless you tie them up and make them eat it, I suppose, but then they wouldn’t be your friends anymore. Unless your friends like being tied up, which I suppose is possible. Why? Have you changed your mind about that linguini I fixed on Monday? You might like it. In fact, your friends might even it, even if they’re not into being tie-”

Nightlight interrupted her with a wave of his hoof. “Actually, no, thank you,” he declared, speaking quickly but with a calmness that surprised him. “I want breakfast food, please.”

“That’s the same thing that Princess Luna wants, isn’t it? You… hmm… breakfast food… for dinner…” The mare narrowed her large eyes in what might’ve been suspicion, but she drifted off into her own thoughts before Nightlight could imagine an excuse, and she left the sentence to start another. “I like that idea. It’s fun. Breakfast, like… oatmeaI, flavored with pineapple and brown sugar and bean sprouts, and… I think we have truffles and some plums leftover. Or, ooh…” she thought aloud, her eyes not focusing on anything in particular. “I could fix crepes if you’re willing to wait. With mushrooms and juniper. I probably like crepes, so you probably do, too. How soon do you want it?”

“Uhh, soon? As quickly as possible, please.” He took a glance around the kitchen. The other cooks were scurrying about to complete the evening’s meal, and they seemed frightfully close to finishing – one was carving an enormous (and delicious-looking) turnip in the middle of the kitchen, and several others were garnishing a tray of stuffed tomatoes. Nightlight saw no signs of any sort of salad, but that sort of thing didn’t take long. “Can you fix something good before they have to bring out the Princess’ breakfast? Something sweet?”

She smiled. “Eggs and toast it is.”

Perhaps the term meant something different to all of the castle’s chefs, or maybe it was just Harvest Moon, but the resulting product was hardly what Nightlight imagined when he thought of the kind of breakfast described by ‘eggs and toast’. The bread was glazed with vanilla, coconut, cream, and cayenne pepper before being toasted, and instead of using an actual toaster, she tossed them into a nearby oven (still hot from the night’s dinner). The eggs were even odder. There were four omelets, all prepared simultaneously over different burners, and all of them with their own unique fillings.

‘Unique’, of course, tended to be the operant word when Harvest Moon fixed anything, but the eggs and toast were nonetheless quick to make. Within some ten minutes of cookery, the mare had prepared a meal that looked remarkably apt for a royal breakfast, complete with a garnish of orange wedges and a glass of milk. But even more impressive, perhaps, was that she never seemed rushed while she made it. If Nightlight hadn’t known better, the mare’s calmness would’ve fooled him into thinking the whole meal easy enough to make himself.

“And… hmm, I suppose that’ll have to do,” the Lunar Chef announced around the spatula in her mouth, sliding her eyes lazily about the kitchen. “I don’t think I have time to make any more before-”

“Harvey? Harvey!” A serious-looking pegasus with a square-face and a crossed fork and knife for a cutie mark approached. By all appearances, she was either ignorant of or oblivious to Nightlight’s presence. “Let’s go! Table time’s in seven minutes, and we’ve gotta go now or we’ll risk being late, and- and are you cooking something?”

“Omelets,” Harvest responded, smiling with the same lethargic expression she’d maintained while cooking. “Would you like to try some? I made them alphabetically.”

The way the other chef rolled her eyes made it clear that Harvest Moon’s current behavior was entirely typical. “There’s not time, Harvey, we’ve got to go. Grab one of those trays. And you,” she said, addressing Nightlight with a contemptuous glare. “Get out of here. Whoever you are, you can go to the cafeteria for food like everypony else. You’re wasting Harvest Moon’s time, right now. She’s the Lunar Chef, you know, and she’s got a job to do.” The square-faced chef completed her sentence with a harrumph that was only missing Ala Mode’s snooty accent. She pulled Harvest Moon towards the stacks of food intended for the princesses, and out of the kitchen.

The rest of the servants ignored Nightlight to the point that he might as well have been alone, and that was perfectly satisfactory in his mind. Blatantly ignored by the rest of the kitchen staff, he dashed away, clutching Princess Luna’s meal in his telekinesis and hoping to find her before he was too late.

It was almost becoming a regular event.

Déjà vu aside, this evening turned out slightly different than his first night as Lunar Hoofservant. For once he knew, really knew, where the Princess was going to be, and could get to Her with just enough time to spare.

Unfortunately, the evening wasn’t that different from the one he remembered. Something came up. “Mister Nightlight?” Snowy Slopes stepped out of the dining hall and into the doorway, cutting him off from his goal. “A word, if you have a moment? It’s important.”

The young steward bit his lower lip to keep from grimacing –he’d beaten the kitchens’ procession here, but that was only because they’d been walking and he’d ran. If this conversation took more than a couple moments, he was going to be late. ‘But you can’t brush off the Snowy Slopes.’ The word of the Head Steward, after all, was law in Castle Canterlot. “Uhh… sir?” he asked, flicking his eyes between the other unicorn and the just-out-of-reach dining hall. Nightlight could actually see his mistress, exchanging words across the table with her older sister. “That’s fine, but, uhh… will this take long?”

“No, of course not,” Slopes stated, his visage as stoic as ever. “I just need to know when you’ll be available during the day tomorrow – it’ll take an hour, maybe one and a half. It doesn’t matter if you don’t know now, just give me word sometime before sunrise, and I’ll work it out.”

“Tomorrow… in the day?” Nightlight didn’t know if he was more distraught by the prospect of daytime-work or the events taking place in the dining hall – he could see a small procession of chefs entering through one of the side doors, all carrying trays of turnip, tomatoes, and the other components of the princesses’ evening meal. “The timing of this is kind of… poor, sir.”

“I realize that may be the case, but we have no choice in the matter – it’s not starting before sunrise, and the matter shouldn’t be put off later than tomorrow.” The other unicorn stated, nodding his head in a sort of perfunctory apology. “It’s serious.”

‘Which makes serious the word of the day,’ Nightlight supposed, becoming more and more anxious about the scene playing out behind Snowy Slopes – just fifteen yards away. Harvest Moon and that square-faced pegasus chef had begun taking covered dishes from the other chefs and were carrying them in their mouths to the Royal Pony Sisters’ table. “Yessir,” he whispered, wrenching his gaze back to Slopes for a second. “It’s that important?"

The Head Steward seemed to interpret it as a question. “Of course, Mister Nightlight. I believe I mentioned the matter of the castle’s employment difficulties over the last two days? It was only an hour or so past.”

“Yeah.” Nightlight could only watch helplessly as the Lunar Chef lifted the lid from a platter in the dining room with a pallid little flourish. To describe Luna as displeased would’ve been an understatement. “Funny how much longer it seems like it’s been.”

“Well as of-” He stopped midsentence, deep furrows across his brow. “Mister Nightlight, you seem distracted.” Snowy Slopes looked from Nightlight to the levitating tray of breakfast foods, to the dining hall over his shoulder, once more to the omelets and toast, and finally back to Nightlight. The only thing that rivaled the speed of his realization might’ve been his astonishment at it. “That’s not…”

“It is.” Just like the last time, he was late.

Being a steward for however many years he’d worked in Canterlot had dulled neither Slopes’ wits nor his reflexes, and he collected himself faster than a colt a third of his age could have – Nightlight, for instance. “Galloping goddesses! Don’t just stand around, get out there!” With uncharacteristically coarse language and a telekinetic shove which spoke volumes about the older stallion’s magical prowess, he slid Nightlight through the open doorway and into the dining hall, not letting up until the younger steward was literally at Luna’s side. By some divine measure of luck, Nightlight maintained both his footing and his grip on the princess’ food throughout the entire trip, and he immediately found himself looking up at his frowning sovereign. But even more disturbing than landing next to an obviously angry goddess (and doing it belatedly, to boot), was the fact that she paid him less attention than he did to his middle sister’s bedfellows.

The only pony receiving any attention from the Lunar Princess was the one presenting Her food, and neither of them looked pleased about the course of events. The way Harvest Moon winced under Luna’s gaze was enough to make Nightlight’s stomach clench in sympathy – that glare was normally reserved for him, he thought. In fact, it probably is meant for me.’

Which meant there was only one thing to do. ‘Probably.’ Nightlight acted before he could start second guessing himself. “Eh, Your Highness?” he said, his voice just loud enough to draw Her attention. “I’m… afraid there’s been a mistake. May I speak to you?”

“We see quite clearly that a ‘mistake’ has been made, hoofservant. ‘Tis unnecessary testimony, and a waste of Our time. Be there anything that actually needs speaking?” she asked quietly, turning so slowly that her mane stayed suspended in the same spot it had already been floating. “Or shalt thou further waste the time that We might spend with Our beloved sister?”

Nightlight gulped once, twice, and slid the platter of omelets and toast onto Luna’s end of the dining table, hiding his face in his mane as he did so. “Your, umm… I b-brought your meal, Your Majesty. It’s… an assortment of omelets, you see. Apples and asparagus, blackberries and brie, cream cheese with currants, a-and the last one is dandelions and… um, potatoes of some sort? Also, cayenne-praline toast.” He slid the dishes wherever they would fit on the table, and the creases around Her mouth melted ever-so-slightly as he did so. “Th-there was a, a sort of a mix-up in the kitchens, and I uhh… sincerely apologize. And…” And he wanted to change the subject – Luna’s face may have softened, but it was still more of a scowl than a smile. “Would you like me to take the rest of this back?”

It worked. “Do so, but chastise Our chef about the failing.”

He swept up the various dishes in his telekinesis while the chefs that had laid them down exited quietly. Honorable mention went to Harvest Moon, who’d slunk out of the room as soon as Nightlight had drawn the princess’ attention. “Shall I speak to her now, Your Highness?”

Luna sniffed indifferently. “If it suits. Thou might see freely to whatsoever pleases, barring that which deprives Us. But own affairs or not, meet Us at the Astral Dais prior to the rising of Our Moon,” she muttered, levitating a nearby fork and testing the consistency of the ‘B’ omelet. It was must’ve been satisfactory, because She didn’t comment on it. “However, thou art forewarned: be not late.”

Gulping mightily at the familiar words, Nightlight left, and he was all too glad to do so. Balancing the many dishes of Luna’s original meal with his magic (and with some difficulty), he crossed to the far side the dining hall, running as fast as he could without looking like he was running. It was a steward skill, and one he was particularly good at.

Nightlight’s running-walk didn’t compare to the techniques of the senior staff, and it showed. Despite exiting the dining hall on the complete opposite side he’d entered from, he found the Head Steward waiting to intercept him. The older stallion had circumnavigated the chamber without ever placing a hoof inside, and furthermore (and quite unfairly), he didn’t even look winded.

The procession of chefs having already made their way through the narrow servants’ passage, Nightlight found himself alone but for one stony-faced Snowy Slopes. “Mister Nightlight? I believe that I must speak with you about what just occurred.”

One ignored the Head Steward about as much as one simply walked into Tartarus. Nightlight halted midstride with a well-contained sigh. “Yessir?”

And that wasn’t good enough. “What? No. No.” The elder pony ran a wrinkled hoof through his thick mane, upsetting the appearance of imperturbability he usually maintained. “That’s the problem: you just dropped everything that you were doing when I asked for a moment of your time. Keep walking, and I’ll follow.”

Some of the gears in Nightlight’s head started whirring freely when he heard this, but it was an order. He started back up, trotting slowly towards the kitchens with Snowy Slopes, the Snowy Slopes, following him. It ought to have been the other way around. “Sir?” he asked, asking himself if the pace was too slow. “What do you mean?”

“Just now. You were hurried, and I sidetracked you,” Slopes said, his tone genuinely pained. “Why did you not ask me to hold off? Even momentarily? I would have gladly waited, had I realized the haste of your task, but you allowed me to continue. It…” The hoary stallion was struck momentarily speechless, shaking his mane in frustration as he trotted along. “Why?”

“Because.” There was more in this word than Nightlight could say. Because he’d been trained to do so. Because Slopes was not just his superior, but the superior. Because that’s how stewards were expected to behave. Because that conversation was supposed to be quick. Because he couldn’t say ‘no’. Because he couldn’t forget that until a few nights ago, Slopes was the second most powerful pony in Equestria. Because Slopes should’ve known if it had been worth waiting. And because so many other things. But all Nightlight could admit was, “You said it was important.”

“Yes Mister Nightlight, what I had to say, and still have to say, is important. But I not so important that you had to drop everything indiscriminately. What you were doing was urgent, and that sometimes takes precedence.”

“You said that your thing was urgent, too,” Nightlight mumbled in self-defense.

“Relatively speaking, yes, but not that urgent. I need an answer from you in the next twelve hours; taking four minutes from that sort of time frame doesn’t matter, but what you were doing… those four minutes become significant. Besides, I didn’t even say such a thing until after you’d stopped and started asking questions about it and-” The senior steward interrupted himself with a deep, calming breath and a resigned chuckle. “You know, when I remind myself of the reasons you were chosen for this position, I sometimes forget the reasons you weren’t. I really don’t know who to blame for this, I suppose.”

“Sir?” Nightlight stopped in his tracks and turned to face the hoary steward in the eyes.

“I guess that answers it,” he said with a tired sigh, tone more bitter than anything else. “Mister Nightlight, what are you doing right now? Do you have any urgent business before sunset? Anything at all that you need to do?”

He considered it before responding, “Umm, no. Luna wants me to talk to the chef about the meal…” Which was kind of bucked up, on account of it not being Harvest’s fault. He had no clue what he was going to say or how he was going to say it, but it was an order, nevertheless. Still… “I can do that later, I think. I was just going to return these.” He cast a simple illumination spell on the half dozen plates he was levitating – shaking them would make him more likely to drop them. “Why?”

“I was just wondering,” spoke Snowy Slopes with a curiously raised eyebrow, “when’s the last time you’ve eaten?”

Nightlight’s stomach answered loudly enough for three ponies.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

After several weeks of intense debate, the Equestrian Senate would eventually pass a resolution, decrying ‘The Glorious Star Keep of Our Illustrious Goddess’ be renamed ‘The Glorious Star Keep of Our Illustrious Goddesses’, and at outlandish cost to the taxpayers. Committees had to be formed and overtime had to be paid, with researchers and historians and various subject experts all called upon and reimbursed for their time. Pamphlets and maps would be updated, letters of declaration mailed, and textbooks would be revised. It would cost tens of thousands of bits, and it would still continue to be known as ‘Tall Tower’. Such was bureaucracy.

This waste, however exorbitant, didn’t matter in the slightest to Nightlight, on account of how bucking delicious he found the stuffed tomatoes. Snowy Slopes didn’t look concerned by the expenses, either. Such was the pot-roasted turnip.

The two of them were currently the only ponies in the Tall Tower, occupying a cozy room in the second highest floor, one which the Day Staff ostensibly kept furnished for occasions such as this. Now, what Slopes called, “Passing the time,” most junior servants called ‘Hurrying up to wait,’ but it amounted to very much the same thing, and in this case it was rather comfortable. The room had a low table, a sofa, enough cushions to seat several ponies (or to form a makeshift bed, if the sofa wasn’t up to par), and cabinets filled with everything from writing supplies to expensive tea to mane care supplies. There was more furniture in here than could easily fit in the Night Stewards’ office, and of the eight or nine similar rooms throughout the castle, Slopes explained with a casual air, this was one of the smallest. “It’s rather rarely used, to be honest. I hadn’t been up here for several months prior to this week.”

Between a mouthful of stuffed tomatoes, the only sound Nightlight could form was “Bwuh?” It was followed quickly by a swallow. “What do you mean, sir?”

“Well, it’s irrelevant, you see. Her Highn- I mean, Their Highnesses, don’t need to be here to raise or lower the sun or moon, you know. I understand it was once a longstanding tradition, but Princess Celestia moved away from it ages ago. Until Princess Luna returned, we hadn’t used the Astral Dais except for the occasional ceremony and some official functions. I was last up here when some griffon emissaries came to visit, and before that for a solar eclipse,” the Head Steward explained as he helped himself to another slice of roasted turnip. He then prompted Nightlight to do the same. “Have another. Hungry ponies make poor decisions, and you don’t always know the next time you’ll get the chance to eat.” Slopes took a deep drink of tea. “Sleeping’s much the same way.”

Nightlight tried filing this amongst the collection of advice Slopes had given him in the last twenty minutes, only to find it all blurring together. Between guidance on how to weigh importance and urgency against each other, what to bring to the Princess’ attention and what to resolve oneself, how to be the best servant possible, what sort of tasks merited delegation, and so many other things that composed servanthood, everything became a single suggestion: do everything right. The worst part was that almost every word out of Slopes’ mouth was painfully obvious, but they were still things that Nightlight didn’t think of. It was downright painful.

“Anyways, it won’t be long before Princesses arrive,” the pale stallion continued, appearing to be supernaturally aware of the time. “We should get back to the subject I was speaking about before...” he waved a forehoof evocatively. “Before this whole issue came up.

“Yessir?”

“I mentioned the castle’s employment issues.”

“Oh, yes. The, umm…” Nightlight racked his brain, tapping a hoof against the cold floor. “The ‘recent outflux’ you called. But what does that have to do with tomorrow during the day?”

“Well, as of some thirty minutes ago, Miss Starry Shine has joined that outflux, and it seems that neither I, nor anypony to whom she’ll listen, can convince her otherwise.”

“Uhh… Starry Shine?” The name rang no bells, and the younger steward made no attempts to conceal it. “Should I know her?”

“She was the Princ- excuse me, Princess Luna’s, Chief Chambermaid – a middling-greyish unicorn with a pink mane. It was styled much like yours, I believe. You should have met her last night. Anyways, I asked the young mare to speak with you before resigning, but she refused rather adamantly. It was something about you being, well…” Slopes face became tightened in concentration, totally ignorant of the shocked look now plastered over Nightlight’s own. “I wouldn’t place much stock in it; the mare was rather distraught, and wasn’t saying kind things about anypony in particular. Anyways, she’s no longer on staff.”

Nightlight winced. “Bad things about me?”

“About everypony, Mister Nightlight. But she quit.”

“Oh…kay. That’s…” ‘Bucking great,’ was the way he wanted to say it, but that kind of vulgarity wouldn’t do in front of Slopes – it wasn’t the Head Steward’s fault that Nightlight had been Stared and forgotten last night, and getting upset wouldn’t help the situation. Nightlight swallowed down his sarcasm and tried to finish with a word that wasn’t disrespectful. “That’s bad.”

“Quite, and especially because of the gap it’s left in our roster. You see, it is the unfortunate and shared opinion of myself, Missus Quill, and Miss Sweep – she’s the First Maid, in case you’ve forgotten – that the Castle Staff lacks a suitable long-term replacement.” The Head Steward, Primary Night Steward, and First Maid were all about as disparate as a trio of ponies could possibly be, which meant if they agreed on anything, it was the truth. “Furthermore, even if we had somepony with the requisite skillset, we’re having enough trouble finding personnel willing to take on the position, even in a temporary fashion. We’ve resorted to offering double and even triple pay for these duties, and we’re still having maids opt out.”

Nightlight choked on his tea in a combination of outrage and, shamefully enough, jealousy. “R-really, sir?” Nightlight didn’t think he was receiving hazard pay, and being the Princess’ chambermaid was certainly easier than being Her steward. “They’re getting hazard pay?”

“That is what the maids are calling it,” Slopes answered, his expression darkening as he rose from his position. He rose to exit the room, motioning for Nightlight to follow him. “And finances aside, it’s one of the reasons this needs to be rectified. So, we have interviews going all day, but I can have the pertinent ones ordered however is most convenient for you – when is best?”

“I-Interviews? Pertinent?” he questioned with a shake of his head, walking behind Slopes as they ascended the tower’s spiral stairs. “Sir, I’m confused. What are we talking about?”

“Job interviews, Mister Nightlight. Do you recall Monday night, when I said that Missus Quill and I were preparing to expand the night staff?” Nightlight didn’t, but he didn’t have time to answer before Slopes continued. “Well the preparation is finished, and the actual ‘expansion’ is starting tomorrow. I sent word to the closest towns that Castle Staff is hiring qualified ponies, and interviews begin tomorrow. With all the new posts that need to be created, combined with our recent retention problems, there are numerous positions that need filling.”

“And?” Nightlight thought interviews might’ve been fun, but he was tired and still had a whole night ahead. “I don’t see how this applies to me, sir.”

“Well, you’re the Lunar Hoofservant, and it would behoove you to be present,” he pronounced, returning to his classically stoic tone. “Considering the close proximity you’ll have to many of the ponies we’ll be hiring tomorrow, as well as the unique familiarity you have with Princess Luna and Her needs and desires, I think you should be present, if only for the senior-most positions – Starry Shine’s replacement, some additions to the Night Stewards, and perhaps a political aide. You should also be looking for a new Chief Clerk amongst them, considering you’re now lacking an assistant. My having chosen the previous one might’ve been… overly presumptuous of me. It’s important you have a strong rapport with those working for you.”

“I suppose that-”

An unmistakable, bold voice interrupted Nightlight’s hushed reply. “...shouldst be evident. See to it that Our message is relayed to the Royal Bookkeepers, that such tomes art ready for perusal this eve!” Princess Luna’s voice reverberated through the stairwell with dangerous volume. “Go!”

The sound of a panicked pony’s galloping echoed only half as loudly as the Royal Canterlot Voice, but it was still enough to cover a whispered comment from Slopes. “I suppose that’s our cue,” he uttered with practiced calm and picked up the pace slightly. “Come, we should get there before They do.”

The servants arrived first, but they did not have long to wait. After only a couple minutes, the Royal Pony Sisters climbed the last stair, and it was not much longer before the doors were wrapped in the pastel glow of Celestia’s telekinesis. “… not nearly as fun as it sounds, Lu. It’s not that I don’t want the best for you, it’s just that I don’t want you stuck with my mistakes, and trust me: there’ve been a lot of them.”

“While I recognize and appreciate your concern, sister, you must understand my position on the matter,” Luna replied from a couple steps back, tone cool. “I think it is my decision. Unless you think my choices are a danger to others-”

“Of course that’s not the case, Lu. It’s a complete nonissue,” Celestia snipped back, marching into the chamber with an informality which was almost unbecoming of a goddess. She stored towards the tower’s open balcony, while the younger of the sisters took up a position further back, closer to Nightlight and Slopes. “I’m just worried about what you’re getting yourself into. Don’t you want some more time before diving into all of that? To become more acquainted with the way things are?”

Luna denied it with a gentle wave of her mane. “Quite the opposite, sister, but on the subject of time…” She rolled a forehoof towards the scene visible beyond the tower’s balcony. A fiery red sun hovered indolently over the horizon, as if it were fighting not to drip out of sight. “May we?”

“Of course,” Celestia responded, moving with an elegant sort of grace and, bizarrely enough, a smile. Nightlight could only see the slightest edge of the alicorn’s face from where he stood, but the smile that graced her face was one which only She could make. It may have only lasted a moment, but for that moment Celestia was in her Canterlot, and all was right in the world. “I would like nothing more.”

Princess Celestia leapt into the sky, spread her wings, and lowered the sun.

Comments

[Psyco Josho]

IT'S HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERE!!!!!!!

[Alondro]

950485 I've just started, and I echo the sentiment. Where is Celestia during all of this? Why is she not even making any effort to calm Luna down? It's as if it's the reverse of the show and Celestia is the one mysterious never spoken of for most of Season 1.

[Alondro]

982814 Good god... an intelligent and well-reasoned critical analysis... on FIMFICTION?!

And you're not being trolled and mocked for not automatically worshiping a popular fic?!

What dark dimension did you escape from that you have such powers here?

[Dracon_Pyrothayan]

I keep waiting for him to finally realize his power and role and give these ponies a proper dressing down . That will likely be the end of the tale, so I await the climax with baited breath.
I've been eating fish, y'see.

[NavyPony]

1475158
Firstly, that probably won't be the end of the tale, just a major milestone in Nightlight's development. Probably. I don't know how long this will last.
Secondly, pun detected. Grade: A+.

[Themaskedferret]

Hurrah! New update! I adore this story, though i've noticed a few typos, can I pm them to you or perhaps offer a hand/hoof in editing?

[NavyPony]

1475259
Feel free to pm them to me.

[nemryn]

Have I mentioned how much I love this? It fits perfectly into my headcanon that Celestia and Luna have a Good Cop/Bad Cop thing going on.

[Telaros]

A NEW CHAPTER! *pounce* WHY WAS I NOT INFORMED OF THIS SOONER!?! *checks watches* HOW HATH I NOT HIT STALK BUTTON?!

I was starting to worry this fic was forgotten. Need to hit follow again. This, Find you a Date AND MENDACITY? This is possibly the best Saturday in a long while.

[Telaros]

oh my gosh a delicious 13k words chapter? LOVE YOU!

[emrlddrgn]

This story continues to be wonderful, despite the pang of disappointment I feel every time it lacks a sentient computer named Mike.

"Celestia was in her Canterlot" is a good effort, and I like the idea, but "her Canterlot" is kind of a stretch for me. Still, always nice to see new ponifications of popular sayings. We tend to get stuck in ruts about those kinds of things.

I continue to hope that it will become more clear that Luna's overbearingness (is that a word?) comes from a place of fear. Right now she basically seems like a huge bitch, but I (and Celestia from the sound of things) can tell that it's mostly culture shock. At least, that's how it reads. I hope I'm reading that correctly, because otherwise this would be very.... uncomfortable.

[Ogrepony]

FUCK YES UPDATE!

though to be fair i'd love to follow around nightlight and get some of the other staff to pull their heads out of their respective asses....

[Loyal]

Very well done. Brilliant chapter.
I guess I can only just say what's on everypony else's mind...
Moar?

[Blue Print]

I am sooo happy this updated. It absolutely made my day. I love the interactions of Nightlight and Luna and Snowy. It's the perfect three-ring circus. Whatever magics you weave to write this wonderful fic, keep it up.

[Shtormovoi]

ABOUT BLOODY TIME!

[q97randomguy]

Whew, I thought that this might have been dead. Luckily it wasn't, and we got a 13K update!dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/Luna_lolface.png

[DirePony]

IT HAS RETURNED

[BenRG]

I'm wondering how long it will be before Nightlight realises that he's basically Luna's PA with everything that involves. I have no doubt that personnel issues will ultimately come his way as will every moron wanting to petition the Princess of the Moon. It will be up to decide who gets to see her (and he'll have to learn how to make that decision right). That said, I wonder if the biggest surprise that he will face will be just how routine all the lunacy gets after a while.

[Reese]

Minor typo:
"one of his sisters at a the house of another different sister’s house"
Good chapter, though.

[FaceDeer]

Well, it's a positive sign that everypony else is starting to turn in their resignations too. This should be a sign to the powers-that-be that they have *massively* mishandled the pony resources situation and maybe even a sign to Luna Herself that she needs to reevaluate her approach.

Unfortunately, it still doesn't seem likely that the head steward's resignation will be in that pile any time soon. Or the head chef's. Canterlot Castle seems to have no shortage of incompetents and obstructionists but those two are particular standouts.

[NavyPony]

1476611
Oh? The Head Chef? Why do you think that an anal micromanager like Ala Mode wasn't in the kitchens tonight? Just throwing it out there...

[FaceDeer]

1476639 I'm not sure whether you're arguing in the head chef's favor or not. "Anal micromanager" is not a good thing, especially when he's an *incompetent* anal micromanager. Back in part four, for example, he insisted on cooking Luna's meal and then when Luna disliked it he took the position that Luna was *wrong* to dislike it. Even now he's forbidden Luna's personal chef from cooking food for Luna. How does he even have that authority? That kind of attitude should get a chef fired from McDonald's, let alone Canterlot Castle.

[Rayvinne]

1476639

Ala Ca-Mode.

[Antiguo]

You know, I think you had created the most annoying protagonist I had ever read.

I don't know how you made it, but I can say I didn't enjoy any of this chapter. I don't say is bad, but... it happened like with The Hobbit. It was so realistic it backfired it. Your OC is so absolutely useless both in action and thought and so indecisive stupid that I just wanted to choke him over and over again.

Loyalty my plot.

Anxiety is one thing, but my alicorn, there is a limit of how much gargle bargle (or what passed for his thoughts) one can endure.

Well done, this had been the less enjoyable piece of fiction I had half endure (I jumped from the dinner/breakfast to review because I literally couldn't stomach anymore indecision, half thoughts, lack of common sense and... guhh) in my life.

[TheTwerp]

I was enjoying this but I can't read it any further I think.

Why is Princess Luna such a jerk? I mean no offence I know we don't know to much about her from the shows but this is a bit ridiculous...Why can't the protagonist just tell her to buck off? I would of and shoved that plate of lasagne in her face! Prison be damned!

I'll carry on watching but I'm hoping you start to change her round a bit and make her more nicer. She wanted the approval of ponies in Luna Returns...

[Majk]

Boredboredbored..boredishlyboredlybored...

"The Moon is a Harsh Mistress" update?

Huzzah! The day hath been saved!

[ultra1437]

Navy. All i've got to say is this. This chapter may contain about the most win i've ever read in a non-comedy story. It was long enough ago, that i went back and re-read the last two chapters to get the context i needed, before i started this one.

Night's starting to get into his role now, he's not there yet, by any means, but he's learning. He's been ingenious, underhanded, and awesome in general. Can't get breakfast for Luna from Harvest? Getting breakfast 'for himself' from Harvest, and give it to Luna anyways. Single best underhanded tactic of the night, right there.

My first thoughts as Snowy interrupted Night. "Oh dear god, it begins." I was right, and then Snowy did a complete face-heel-turn, and made himself alright in my books by recognizing what the hell Night was doing. And to top it all off, he apologized AFTERwards. Not before Night was any more late, after it was all said and done.

Now, if what i thought was right... Luna's trying to be more forgiving with Night. At least in the beginning of the night, when he wakes her up, she's at least civil about it.

[justwannaread]

13k delicious words - excellent. Nightlights slow development continues but ever so slowly he understands what kind of Decision he has to make and what kind of Power he wields now.
Luna remains mostly unchanged I would love to have a bit of development with her. The Moon is indeed a Harsh Mistress however it can't stay that way forever if an understanding and a good work relationship is to be established ever.

And I like Harvest Moons Character a lot she does have quite a bit of Pinkie in her.

[zero588]

Where do I apply!!!???

[djthomp]

Nice to see Snowy give out some useful advice to Nightlight, here's hoping that as much as of it sinks in as possible.

Can't wait to see our protagonist finally tell someone off.

[Lucen Aurora]

I'm glad to see the story continued and am sad this chapter is over. This is *THE* story I'm Jonesing for ATM. :)

[AltGrendel]

1476611

I'm sure the the Princesses are well aware of the staffing situation, thanks to Snowy Slopes. I'm also sure that he was told to mentor Nightlight as best he can and to help with the staffing as much as possible.

Nopony in the story wants to deal with Luna because of fear. Look at her history. She caused enough disruption back in the history of Canterlot that she was banned to the Moon for a thousand years. Most likely she's become the character that colts and fillies are told "...will get you if you don't behave." and I'm sure there are worse stories than that floating around Equestria.
Growing up with that, and then suddenly she re-appears, how would you react? "Hello, the Stealer of Souls has come back, is very very sorry, promises not to do it again, and would like to hire you as a servant." I'd bet that triple pay wouldn't be enough for you either.

This may not be all of it, but it's a big part of it.

[Rokas]

Not bad. Still wondering when Nightlight is going to realize he's basically princess Luna's freakin' mouthpiece and he speaks for her. I really want him to dress down the head chef sometime.

"You are the most pompous, self-absorbed, overstuffed feather-brained peacock I have ever seen! You're supposed to be one of the best chefs in Equestria, but you can't even get a simple order right! Princess Luna wakes up, she wants breakfast, not dinner, and then you disagree with her? She's your freakin' employer, and you can't even meet her demands? You are a failure of a chef and a miserable little pony, and if there were any true justice in this world the ground would open up beneath you and swallow you up in a pit of flame! Now get out of my way."

[Focusphobia]

1486131
YES!!!
1475170
Please do what the other guy said?

[Noble Cause]

Oh, am I glad I finally got to sit down and read this! It's nice to see Snowy realizing (if only in part) that HE bucked up a bit too. Now for Nightlight to take the initiative on a full stomach...

[Xewleer]

Yes oh yes! This is like a freaking five course meal. The characterizations are beautiful, I can actually see the castle, the characters. AH! Excellent, excellent!

[Rodinga]

Why did I not read this sooner, Ashamed to say it has been sitting in my read later list for far too long.
Here's what I think:
mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/img/mlfw2077-10838220-20101020am_I_trying_too_hard20approval20face20image20rating20reaction_face20response20sign20twilight_sparkle1.jpg

Excelent work, it does my heart good to see such good character development with Nightlight slowly becoming a proper Hoofservant.

[Alyeskabird]

So far quite an injoyable story.
Poor Night, you kinda feel for the kid, but, something I think people keep forgetting, he is a kid, you know, 17/16 years old, got a real job, moving out and being on his own. He gets woken up early, tossed into the siduation without even a 'by your leave' and right from the begining he gets screamed at. Now a lot of it, bluntly, is culture shock I expect. Shes got a very diferent idea of the fuction of servents than the modern era does, infact, think about it from Luna's perspective. Some kid shows up, late, says hes her new servint, and he seems a totaly untraind and disorganized and late idiot, what would you do?
And, as many have mentioned, I am waiting for NL to realize that he basicly holds the same position that Snowy Slopes does, just for Luna, rather than Tia. I also expect that Luna would back him up if he desides he needs to 'clean house' so that she can get the service she deserves. *chuckles* Be interesting to see what happens when he realizes that he is higher in the hiearchy than the head night steward, or his former superviser.
I should also point out, the poor kids not had a good sleep sense this whole thing started, so hes probably half dead on his feet. Give him a litle to buy a clue and wake up.

Something I should point out that I think people have not realized. A lot of the night staff, from what I have read so far, seem to be floaters. Nap is a prime example. Thay do as little actual work as thay can get away with. Heck, what was NL's job before this? Like assistant to the teterary night steward, maybe in a couple years when someone dies he might make it all the way up to actual steward, rather than just an assistant.
I also have to say, I like Luna's head cheif, even if shes not alowed to cook anything, shes funny and a creative cook, that takes more than you might expect.

[NavyPony]

1633336
no. rate is referring to that specific job within the military/guard. many people are more familiar with the term MOS. the term batmare i'm deriving from the term batman, which is/was effectively an enlisted aide-de-camp for a commissioned officer.

[A true pony critic]

For once he knew, really knew, where the Princessa was going to be

typo alert 1637513

[cloudyjhi]

Good to see everything is starting to turn out pretty much okay for Nightlight. The abuse he's taken over the past chapters makes me feel for him.

[NavyPony]

2034097
The latter.

[Rodinga]

1520519
So, new chapter maybe?

[AltGrendel]

2264303

Hope so.

[j-grizz]

Excellent story. I wonder when Nightlight will realize that "The Lunar Hoofservant" translates into "Luna's Head Steward".

I shall await your next update.

[Lucen Aurora]

Bump for more chapters. This is *THE* story I'm waiting on.

[Telaros]

*poke*

I know you got other stories you're busy with trying to complete, but still wanted to come by and let ya know you're awesome and this Epic Triple AAA fic is still being eagerly watched!

Hope all finds you well, best of luck in whatever you're up to these days!