What Moonlight Made Her

by Storybelle

Chapter 10. Many Moons Ago

It wasn't uncommon for there to be a knock at the door this time of night.

But Prim Petal the Third would never forget this particular night.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" shouts Prim irritably, trotting to her front door as fast as her hooves would take her. Her hip still acts up on cold nights and her legs don’t move as fast as they used to. She'll soon become too old to run the orphanage and Prim the Fourth will get to have her chance at it.

But Prim won't give it up until she's confined to a bed. Her grandmother built this place with her bare hooves and she'll be damned if she lets her fool of a daughter ruin it.

"Hold your hooves," Prim grumbles, finally making it to the lobby. She heaves herself up a bit to peep through the eye-hole. I swear I’m getting smaller in my old age, she thinks to herself, half-serious, as she struggles to get a look at the figure out in the gloom. She then begins to undo all the locks and bolts at a great speed.

"What are you doing out in this weather?" she queries, concerned, as she finally gets the blasted door open. "Get in, hurry!"

A cloaked stallion quietly slips in through the door and Prim hurriedly shuts it behind him. In the darkened night air, she can barely see his face. The older mare is more than a little disconcerted. The wind whips in behind the shadowed stranger, sending another set of shivers down Prim's spine.

"What were you doing?" Prim asks again, rooting around in a cupboard for a towel. Lucky for the cloaked stallion, she’s prepared for these types of situations. She knows that it's best to have these supplies with little foals running under her roof. After all, Autumn Whisper and Ruby Fire came in just this afternoon, covered head to hoof in mud. Pushing back the errant thought, Prim finds several towels and kindly offers them to the stallion.

While her back was turned, the guard had pulled off his dripping cloak. Still silent, he thoughtfully hangs it off a hook so that it will drip onto the mat and not her perfectly polished floors.

"Take this, then and quickly come sit by the fire." Prim urges, but the guard shakes his head. Before she can ask why, he shifts his large black wings out the way, to reveal a tiny, shivering filly.

Prim makes a small “Oh!” in shock and surprise, before surging forward in a rush of maternal instincts. She takes the small, shocked filly from the shadowed captain without another word or, indeed, a second thought. As the captain begins to dry himself off, the once-grump orphanage owner begins to fuss about the little pony.

The guard busies himself with a towel while Prim rubs down the little filly and then swaddles her as best she can.

"How could you take this little one out there in such a storm?" Prim finally snaps, suddenly furious with the clearly inconsiderate guard. This particular filly doesn't seem too badly off from her stint in a storm, but you can never tell with foals. They're usually as resilient as anything. Still, you can bet that the one time they go frolicking out in a drizzle is the one when they come down with a cold - or something far worse. Prim has never been the type to court trouble. “What were you doing? Where did she come from?” Prim continues, as she quickly moves to take care of the babe.

Best to warm her up immediately and get her some food, even though she seems a sturdy little thing. In all this time of primping and pampering from the elderly orphanage owner, the little one hasn't even made one squeak of complaint. It is truly impressive, when one stops to think about it.

The cautious guard hasn’t yet managed to reply to the now-cantankerous mare’s questions and she doesn’t plan to give him more time to explain. "This way," Prim directs them both to her private quarters through her office - her cozy bedroom, a little kitchenette and a small sitting room. Everything is clean, well-lit and clearly in use. It is obvious that this is a home kept with pride. When her daughters were small, Prim hadn't stayed there much, allowing any staff members staying overnight to use it as a break-room instead. But her fillies are long grown and for the past twenty years, this has been her sanctuary. The orphanage has been her home as long as she can remember. She followed her own mother through these halls until her untimely death, when Prim suddenly was in charge. Being in charge so young taught her so many things...but it hasn’t prepared her for everything that walks through her doors.

Prim stokes the fire. After a moment’s hesitation - because only an idiot would bring such a tiny one out into a storm and he never did answer her questions - she passes the filly back over to the guard so that she can make some tea for them both.

The guard has a towel awkwardly draped over his back but it leaves his hooves free to cradle the filly. Admittedly, It’s an odd sight, a burly guard with a scar over one eye, holding a fat little filly as if she were made of glass. Yet, he seems unnaturally attuned to the foal and clearly protective. Unasked and unanswered questions fill Prim’s head but, for the moment, she sets them aside and focuses on her kettle. With another thought, she also fetches a saucepan and a bottle of milk for the filly.

For a few calm minutes the guard waits, drying his wings by the fire, while the foal half-dozes in his hooves. Finally, the water boils and Prim makes the tea. It takes a few minutes after that for the milk to be heated. She drips the milk bottle over her foreleg, checking the temperature, before she is fully satisfied that it is ready for the still-silent foal. She leaves her mug of tea on the counter while she sees to her guests.

She relieves the stallion of his charge and passes him a mug instead. Settling down in an armchair and carefully shifting the filly so she can feed her, Prim offers the nib of the bottle to her.

"Well, it doesn't seem to have done her much harm." Prim comments, as the foal practically inhales half the bottle in a minute. "Now, are you going to tell me why you're dropping off a filly in the middle of the night?" And why you haven’t spoken a word since entering my house? She hates to admit it, even to herself, but the whole episode was mildly unsettling.

The guard stares at the flickering flames of her fire, dancing red and gold against the brickwork, before briefly before shaking himself out of his reverie. "I'm sorry for the disturbance, ma'am. There was nowhere else."

"Doesn't she have any family?" Prim asks, suspiciously. Still, she knows her position well enough. It’s never a good sign when guards are involved with bringing in small foals. She finds herself glancing away from the stallion’s hollowed expression, noting how the foal sucks almost rhythmically from the bottle, as if it’s easy as breathing.

A mild frown puckers her forehead. Judging by the age of this little one she should be on solid foods by now. She abruptly turns back to the captain. "Surely, there must be somepony..." But he shakes his head and her heart plummets.

"Orphan," he replies, heavily. "Or, at least she is as of tonight. We'll start a search for other relatives tomorrow.” he chances a glance at the infant and his eyes lock onto the tiny, chubby, innocent filly. He clears his throat and looks away. There’s something oddly broken about his gaze and his tone. “Tonight, she needs someplace to stay."

"Of course," Prim agrees, at once. He should have known that he needn’t ask her. "My grandmother would never turn away a child and neither will I.” her eyes flicker back and forth between the filly and the guard. “But I must say, this is the first time a foal has been dropped on my doorstep by a guard, without even a blanket to her name."

The guard seems cautious again and perhaps a little out of his depth. She supposes she can’t blame him. "We'll collect what we can of her belongings," the guard finally explains, a touch hastily. "But the princess gave explicit orders that her house is out of bounds until further notice."

Prim gapes. The princess herself in Manehattan! But this again sends the hair on her neck standing on end. Why has the princess unexpectedly come to Manehattan without any notice?

"I think you'd better start from the beginning," Prim tells him, in the same tone she uses when she finds a vase broken and a ball nearby when the foals know that playing ball games in the house is explicitly forbidden. You do not raise hundreds of orphans without having that kind of voice.

Her laser focus is now directly on the suspicious guard, even as she keeps the little filly safely protected between her hooves. "I'm Prim Petal the Third, matron of this orphanage. And, you are?"

"I am Captain Black Dagger of the Manehattan Royal Guard," the stallions announces.

Prim can almost see the straightening of his shoulder; the pride in his military training.
But the soldier in him fades, as he gazes on the dozing filly. "This is Moon Shadow. And she needs a home."

"I'm sure that won't be a problem." Prim tells him. "She's such a quiet filly."

Black Dagger sadly shakes his head. "She might not be. I'm afraid what she saw tonight has frightened her badly. She's barely made a noise since we found her in her crib."

Prim narrows her eyes - now she understands why the princess came to town. Something horrible happened. Something that this Captain Black Dagger couldn’t yet explain. Something awful enough to pull the Princess from her duties in Canterlot and make this sweet filly into an orphan. Prim is suddenly and inexplicably chilled with that last notion. Unaware, she pulls the sleepy babe closer.

“I can’t remember the last time we had a violent crime committed in Equestria. Is it-?”

But the word stops at her tongue and will go no further. The Captain understands what she means, however, and dips his dark head in agreement.

“Murder?” he gently answers. “I believe so. We haven’t found the bodies of her parents but there’s blood there, which makes us believe that is what happened.”

A bit of a fuss causes Prim to break her gaze from Dagger’s broken expression and focus on the little one. Moon Shadow has finished the bottle and is plainly clamouring for another one. Prim sighs and slides off her stool to comply, depositing the foal back in Black Dagger’s hooves again.

Moon Shadow stops whimpering immediately, and stares up at Black Dagger’s face. She seems captivated by the old captain.

“That’ll be a hard cross for her to bear.” Prim comments, once the milk is heating up in the pan.

“I don’t think it’ll be an issue,” Black Dagger says quietly. His eyes flick to the old clock on the mantelpiece, but Prim is too busy with the milk to notice. “Measures will be put in place to protect her. I’m sure she’ll explain it all to you.”

Prim turns to face him, eyebrows raised in confusion. “She? You surely don’t mean her…?” she says, with a gesture towards the child.

She half-means it as a joke, of course, though not a very good one. It is nearing two in the morning. It’s a miracle she’s even awake after a day of paperwork, organising staff and separating a fight over the biggest ball in the toy box.

Black Dagger doesn’t even smile, not that she expects him to. He looks so grave that it’s causing Prim’s stomach to roll uncomfortably. She has seen more than enough in her years as matron and even before then, following her mother around when Prim Petal the Second ruled these halls. It is the kind of feeling she has developed when she knows something is going to happen.

The knowledge that a ball will break a window before it happens, that a foal will fall and be injured. Like any mother or guardian angel, Prim is blessed - and sometimes cursed - with tiny premonitions of what’s to come. Right now, something bad is coming. She just wish she knew what that something was.

With the knowledge still haunting her, Prim turns back towards Black Dagger. Guard and foal are still staring silently at each other, forever bound by this night and whatever transpired there. It’s something Prim cannot hope to understand.

“Captain?” Prim asks, her voice barely audible over the loud crack of thunder that echoes through the building.

She’s aware of a child crying somewhere overhead. Somepony has woken up and is frightened by the storm. I know the feeling, little one, she thinks, quietly. Unfortunately, it is not the storm that frightens her. Her uneasiness hits its peak as another bolt of lightning races through the sky.

And then, shattering the stillness of the moment, the doorbell rings.

---

The small office is a little messy but cosy. Shadow can imagine little fillies coming here with their problems and prospective parents feeling soothed by the foal’s drawings on the wall and brightly coloured filing cabinets. Light streams in from a large window, that offers a charming view of a small playground. Behind the desk sits a middle-aged Earth mare with a lavender bun and glasses perched on her muzzle. She's certainly older than Tea Leaf, judging by by the slight streaks of grey in her updo and the lines by her eyes. In other words, the scene is exactly what you’d expect from an office in an orphanage. Comforting. Welcoming.

Unfortunately, it’s also the place where Shadow’s hopes have been shattered.

“What do you mean, ‘there’s nothing in the file?’” Shadow asks, unable to keep the bite out of her voice. “I must have a file; you keep one for every filly!”

Prim Petal the Fourth looks as though she’s glad that there’s a large desk between them. She reaches out for the slim file in front of her. She’d left the room only minutes ago to search the records room, keys jingling. “Don’t you fret, dear!” she’d sung out. “We get so many little fillies like you, looking for where they came from. I’m sure we’ll find something for you!”

But then she’d returned, clutching a raggedy looking thing, a dismayed frown on her face and Shadow’s heart had sunk.

“You do!” Prim says, her voice tinted ever so slightly with a Manehattan accent. “Well…you did. I’m afraid that this is all we have.” She offers it out to Moon Shadow, who doesn’t hesitate to snatch it.

The brown coloured file in her hooves is slightly faded and discoloured. But Shadow can see her name on the front. Printed there in solid black, with the dates of her stay at the orphanage. Proof that she was here. But Prim Four isn’t wrong – it’s thin.

Moon Shadow knows paperwork. Even if she was only here a little while there should be some weight to it. Admittance papers, medical record, papers for her adoption. So she's not that surprised when her file is empty. Gutted certainly. But not surprised. All of the fight leaves her at once, leaving only a strange numbness.

"I am sorry, dear," Prim says, eyebrows furrowed together in a confused crease. "This is highly unusual...The file itself is here so we know you did come to us all those years ago but everything that should have been inside is gone."

"It's ok," Shadow says, although it's really not. Just another dead end. She'd put a lot of hope into this trip, hoping that someone at the orphanage would remember her or that an orphanage would at least have good records. But there's not even that. "I don't suppose there would be anywhere else it might have been stored?" Shadow tries but Prim shakes her head.

"I'm afraid not," she says, sadly. "We just don't have the space. We do shred information after a certain time of course but we have more fillies come through our doors than the storage. After all, sometimes they stop here for only a few weeks like you did."

"Is there any pony else I can speak to?" Shadow says desperately. She can't take her eyes off that empty file. Her answers were so, so close. "Somepony who worked here? They might remember me!"

Prim looks taken back at the desperation in Shadow’s voice. She coughs and reaches out. Shadow reluctantly hands back the file, trying to ignore the empty feeling in her gut. "I'm not sure that would be possible,” Prim says crisply. “Very few of our staff have been here that long and with the ones that are left it's unlikely they would remember you. Our chef has been here for many years but she doesn't interact with the children all that much. I am sorry, dear but I don't think that will help."

"What about your mother?" Shadow says, with a bolt of inspiration. "You said she was matron here years ago! Surely she would have met me!" Prim does that funny little cough again, and hitches her glasses up her nose. If Shadow was a betting mare, she’d guess that’s Prim’s tell. But then it’s gone and there’s only a perfectly serene expression on the mare’s face.

"I'm afraid my mother is quite elderly," Prim says, with a small smile. "She's infirm and her mind is not what it was. I don't think it would be a good idea. You probably wouldn't be able to get that much out of her anyway. She's gotten very strange in her old age."

“Oh,” Shadow says quietly. It was worth a shot. Just a little filly giving it one final go to try and find where she came from.

“I should go,” Shadow says. The light from outside has settled into that warm glow of late afternoon. There’s pounding hoof steps overhead and excited calls echoing around the house, signalling that the many small inhabitants have returned. Prim must have work to do, with so many children to care for. “Get out of your mane.”

Shadow slides off her chair and Prim does the same to walk her to the office door.

“I am dreadfully sorry that we couldn’t help,” Prim says, her voice the perfect mix of warmth and understanding. “Please don’t hesitate to come visit us again if there’s anything else you can think of. Or if you’d even like to see the house! Maybe it’ll prompt some memories.”

Shadow gives a weak smile. “That might be nice. I was only three so I don’t expect much…” Prim waves a hoof.

“Well, you never know!” she says cheerfully. “We’ve had many a mare step in through that door and say how familiar it seems to them. Or even the details they remember! One mare came here fifty years after her adoption and was able to recall the strange varnish stain in the upstairs bathroom! You’d be surprised what’s trapped up in the mazes of our memories.”

“Maybe,” Shadow says. “Thank you for your time.” She offers out a hoof, even as she pulls on the door handle with her magic. But before Prim can shake it, here’s an enormous bang and a frightened cry from the floor above. Not long after, several more small voices begin to cry, startled and upset.

“Oh my stars!” Prim gasps. “Excuse me, Lady Shadow, I’m afraid that you’ll have to see yourself out. It sounds as though somepony has had an accident – unavoidable with children!”

And with that, the matron dashes off down the corridor to seek out the source of distress. Shadow can hear her voice fading as Prim hurries up the stairs – “Now didn’t I warn you all not to run in the house?”

Shadow shakes her head and turns to give the small office one last glance. If her younger self was here, this room isn’t calling forth any memories. Actually, she doesn’t remember this place at all. Stepping through the front door into a clean if well-worn hallway hadn’t sparked anything, hadn’t even given her a sense of déjà vu. Maybe she’d been too young. Maybe there’s a reason she remembers nothing before she was four years old.

Shadow has just turned around when there’s a bang from behind her, inside the room. Shadow whirls around, expecting to see somepony. But there’s nopony there. Nothing that she can see that’s fallen down, anything that might be the source of the noise.

Shadow’s eyes flick furiously over the space. She’s not going mad – that sound came from this room. Her horn almost lights itself, pulling forth magic that crackles and sparks. It’s half conscious, half instinct. A Pegasus will flare its wings as a fear response and unicorns summon magic.

Shadow has taken a few cautious steps inside, trying to gauge if there’s an enemy here when the noise comes again. Shadow, already tense, nearly jumps a foot into the air. This time, further into the room, she can better tell where the sound came from. It almost definitely came from near Prim’s desk. Taking a deep breath, Shadow leaps forward the last few feet to find…nothing. A desk. Filing cabinets. A ‘Best Mommy!’ mug on a coaster, still containing a few dregs of tea.

Shadow frowns. She hates feeling like somepony is outwitting her. But as her hooves carry her forward, past the last cupboard to her left, she finally sees what she’s been missing.

It’s a door. A door just to the right of a large cupboard, perfectly positioned that it blocks the view of whoever might be sitting in front of the desk. Shadow glances to the door. Prim hasn’t returned yet but she may soon. She shouldn’t be snooping. But a final bang confirms it. There’s somepony or something behind this door, causing a ruckus. Are they trying to get her attention?

Taking a deep breath, Shadow yanks on the handle.

She very nearly trips over several items on the floor as she walks in. Shadow collects them in her magic field so she can inspect them. She holds an old paperback, a coaster, and a glasses case. Somepony was definitely throwing these with intent. Maybe somepony would throw the book in disgust, Shadow noted, looking at the muscular stallion and swooning mare on the front cover, but these are likely whatever somepony had to hand. Desperate for attention, they’d lobbed them at the door, knowing that whoever was in the next room would hear.

“About time!” an elderly voice grumbles and Shadow looks up, heart in her throat. She’d been so preoccupied with the mystery that she’d forgotten that somepony in this room would have had to have thrown them.

But settled into a soft armchair is an old mare. There’s a grey mane tucked under a cap and bright eyes glinting at Shadow in the flickering light of the fire. Even so, the mare is tucked under several blankets, as if the room weren’t already blisteringly warm.

“Come in, child!” the mare cajoles. “And bring my things back while you’re at it. I’m not done with that book but I was running out of things to throw.”

Shadow walks over and settles the items down on a nearby side table, well within the mare’s reach.

“So you were trying to get my attention!” Shadow says, somewhat confused. “Or….do you need Prim Petal instead?” The mare waves a hoof dismissively. For a pony that looks so frail, she must have some strength left in her to throw those things against the door with such force.

“Not her,” she snorts. “I see plenty of her! No, it’s you I need. I knew that someday you’d walk these halls again. I just hoped it would be before I walk off this planet.”

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” asks Moon Shadow politely. The old mare coughs into a handkerchief and glares.

“Prim Petal the Third!” she wheezes. Shadow starts.

“So…you’re the Fourth’s mother!” she says. “She didn’t mention…”

“That I’m left here to rot?” says the mare with a smirk. “’Course she wouldn’t. She thinks I’m senile in my old age. Pah! Sharp as a tack, me.”

“Uh huh,” murmurs Shadow, doubtfully. Prim Three narrows her eyes at her.

“Don’t believe me? Who are you then? Another strange filly wandering in, looking to find where she came from?” Prim Three enquiries, with that unnerving glint in her eyes again.

“Well, yes,” Shadow replies. “I’m Moon Shadow.”

“Moon Shadow,” repeats Prim Three. “Unusual name.”

“Perhaps. I haven’t really thought about it,” Moon Shadow says, with a shrug.

“Maybe you should think about it,” snaps Prim Three. “Not a name you come across often, especially not a distinct mare like you.” Moon Shadow suspects that’s a jibe about her colouring again but she lets it slide.

“Wait,” says Shadow, suspiciously. “Does that mean you remember me? Were you here the night I was brought in?”

“It’s a possibility,” says Prim Third slyly. “There’s many an Aurora Dawn or Rainbow Flash going around these days. Not too many chubby pumpkins by the name of Moon Shadow.”

Shadow bristles. “I was three! I had some extra foal weight!”

“Perhaps,” says Prim Third cheerfully. “Cute as a button. Good to see you’re less round now. Well, in most places.” Shadow self-consciously moves her rear out of Prim’s eye line.

“So you were here. Who brought me in? What happened to me? Prim Four couldn’t find anything in my file!”

“Of course she couldn’t!” snaps Prim Three. “It’s long been destroyed.”

“What do you mean ‘destroyed’?” asks Shadow, in horror. This wasn’t something she’d anticipated. The contents were gone but she’d still hoped that maybe they were just lost somewhere. “By who?”

“Me, I’m afraid,” confesses Prim Three, with another hacking cough. The old mare raises a tissue to her muzzle to wipe away spittle that clings to her lower lip. Shadow tries to not wince. She suspects that if she'd come even a year later Prim Three wouldn't be here and the secrets of Shadow's life would be lost forever.

“But why?” Shadow asks angrily. “What could you possibly have to gain from destroying my file?”

“Wasn’t my choice there, kid,” says Prim Three. “So don’t go biting my head off. I’m afraid it was a request I couldn’t refuse. You understand?” Shadow nods.

She knows exactly who would request such a thing. She also knows the only pony in the whole of Equestria that no pony could ever refuse.
“I am sorry,” says Prim Three softly. “At the time I didn’t know why and it didn’t seem a good idea to ask. So I shredded the file and gave you over to her and did my best to not think about it again.”

“Why? Because it was easier?” asks Shadow bitterly. Prim Three makes a derisive sound.

“Because it was too awful to remember,” she says bluntly. “The guard that brought you in was shaking from head to tail. You were a tiny little thing, wrapped in a blanket and you didn’t make a sound all night. Something had scared you both fierce.”

“I was brought in by a guard?” Moon Shadow perks up at the sound of a lead. “Do you remember his name?”

“Eh, let’s see,” Prim Three muses, tugging her pile of blankets higher over her hind legs. “Dagger something…He was part of the Manehattan City Guard near twenty years ago.”

“Do you remember the rest of his name?” asks Shadow, impatiently. In any city guard there could be at least ten ponies with the name Dagger.

“Ah! Black Dagger!!” exclaims Prim in delight. She smugly beams a toothless grin at Shadow. “Told you I’d remember!”

“No, actually, you didn’t,” Shadow sighs wearily. “You said you were as sharp as a tack. Which I am beginning to doubt, to be honest.”

“Ooh. Smart ass, aren’t you?” says Prim, raising an eyebrow. She tries to reach for the tissue box and Shadow magically moves it over to her.

“No offence but you are old,” says Shadow. “But you’re not senile, I will give you that.”

“Told you that too,” says Prim grumpily. “Mind telling my fool of a daughter that?”

“I’m sure Prim Four is very nice!” Shadow protests. Prim makes another disgusted noise.

“Nice ponies can still be fools,” she says, matter-of-factly. “Besides, she persuaded her daughter to name my great grandfoal Prim Petal the Sixth.”

“Ooh,” Shadow wrinkles up her nose. “The sixth. Do you not know any other names in your family?”

“Clearly not,” Prim Three says. “She was never very good at thinking for herself, that mare. Relies far too much on our family's name and prestige. Now, you gonna go find that guard?”

“I guess so,” says Moon Shadow, biting her lip. It might not be so easy tracking down an old captain. It depends on whether the Manehattan guard will help her. Maybe there are some public records she can look at. “I’m going to have to, if he’s still alive. Nopony else can tell me what happened that night.”

“Well, good luck then, I guess,” says Prim Three grudgingly. Nice to see that you grew up well. I'll admit, I was worried that night would leave too much of a mark on you."

"Do you know what happened?" Shadow asks hopefully but the old mare shakes her head.

"Sorry, lass, not my story to tell," Prim says sadly. "I only ever got a few gruesome snippets. Find your guard. He's the best pony to tell you. You and he came out of that night with a bond between you."

"Of course," Shadow says, mind already ticking over with all the ways of tracking down a retired guard Captain. "Thank you for your help."

Prim gives a wry smile, tinged with regret. "Only what I owe you, lass. It’s always nice to know that a filly from my care grew up happy and healthy. I’m glad I got to see you again.”

"As am I," Shadow says. This crotchety old mare had been one of the first ponies to hold her and care for her after that night all those years ago. Shadow can't really resent her for what she's done, not when it was Celestia who ordered it all. Who in Equestria could say no to the goddess who raises the heavenly bodies across the sky? "Although I hope you stick around a little longer. I'd like to visit you again when this is all over."

"I'd like that," Prim Three responds, with another toothy grin. This one looks genuine, lacking any slyness or teasing. "You can take me for a walk and we'll drink whiskey in the park."

"No, we won't!" Shadow says in horror. “We can have cake and tea.” Prim pouts and hitches her blankets higher over her thin legs.

"And here I was hoping you'd be more fun than my grandfoals," she sighs. There's a clatter behind them, hooves on hardwood floors and Prim Four sticks her head through the door.

"Lady Moon Shadow!" she says, eyes widening with shock. They get wider still when they see who Shadow has been talking to. "Mother!"

"Oh good, you're already met," Prim Three says cheerfully. As Prim Four trots in and makes a fuss over her mother, Prim Three gives Shadow an obvious wink. Shadow dips her head once to acknowledge the message has been received.

"I'm so sorry to be a bother," Shadow says. "I was on my way out and this lovely mare needed a hoof with a fresh box of tissues." Shadow slips into her more proper Canterlot tones as a force of habit, the ones she uses when she's trying to open doors that are not usually accessible to the daughter of a tea maker.

I see" Four says, suspiciously but as her mother indeed has a new box right next to her, there's very little she can say. "I would prefer that mother stay at a proper home but she insists on being here during the day with me."

"It's my home," wheezes Prim Three into her handkerchief. "My mother raised me in this house, as I did with you and your sister. I don't know what you're doing keeping Prim Five out of her birthright. She should have grown up wandering these halls and learning the family business..."

"Yes, thank you, mother," Prim Four interrupts, looking flustered. Prim Three scowls and readjusts the blankets that her daughter had just moved. "But I'm sure my daughter has all the time in the world to take over running the house."

"How wonderful to have another addition to such a legacy," Shadow interrupts. "I'm sure my grandparents would be willing to give a donation as I spent some time here as a foal." Prim Four's eyes light up while Three smirks. Yes, it's an underhanded move but Shadow needs to ensure she can come back again, if needed. Prim Four seems the type to open up at the offer of a donation.

“That be would very kind indeed,” Prim Four gushes. “Thank you! We do so rely on the kindness of benefactors here, I’m afraid that government funding doesn’t always cover our needs…”

It probably doesn’t. The paint is peeling in the corners of the walls and the playground outside could use some new equipment. They seem to function well enough but a few things have clearly slipped.

“Well, I will certainly see to it,” Shadow says briskly. “I’d love to come again to discuss it?”

“That would be wonderful!” Prim Four enthuses. “Just wonderful! Do let me know and we’ll schedule something in.”

“Of course,” Shadow says, flicking her eyes to the clock on the mantelpiece. “I’m afraid I have to dash now but I will be back in Manehattan in a few weeks, I expect. I’d love to sit down with you and your lovely mother.” Oops, went too far. Prim Four looks a bit startled. Lovely was probably the wrong word to use.

“I’ll see myself out,” Shadow says hurriedly. “I’ll send a letter. Goodbye!” She bolts through the door and through the house as fast as she can without making it too obvious that she’s escaping. Back on the street, she sticks a hoof out for a taxi. She has some research to do, She came to Manehattan for answers and she’s determined that she won’t set foot on that train back to Canterlot without them.

---

"Why does it have to be giant spiders?!" Moon Shadow shrieks, going as fast she her legs will take her. This is even worse than the carnivorous clowns or possessed dolls or the room full of insects or any of the other terrifying dreams she's been encountering lately. For starters the spider is about the height of a small building. No matter how fast she goes, it makes no difference as the spider takes one giant step and catches up again almost immediately. Secondly, there's a young colt who's screaming at the top of his lungs as they run so there's no chance of them being able to hide. And thirdly, shooting the spider with magic seems to have very little effect.

"It worked on the bucking clowns!" Shadow mutters under her breath. "And the dolls!" Of course it's entirely possible a 30 foot high spider isn't just going to vanish with just a little bolt of magic. She's not weak magic wise but that is going to take some serious power to disintegrate a giant spider. Unless of course it just dissolves into thousands of little spiders. Maybe it's lucky that she can't just shoot it.

Course, she has very few plans for what to do now. Get the kid to stop screaming and then create a portal for them both. She does not want to know what's going to happen if the spider catches them. Those pincers are huge and makes her stomach squirm just at the sight of them.

"Would you be quiet!" Shadow shouts, finally at her limit. "You're making this so much worse!" The colts whimpers, eyes wide with terror, but he does stop screaming.

"It's going to eat us!" he wails, verging on hysteria. Shadow scowls. She has no idea how he's managed to gallop full pelt while screaming at the top of his lungs for the last five minutes. Her lungs are already burning and she's tried the best she can to breathe regularly. The last few weeks have improved her fitness immensely - there's no motivation quite like running for your life.

"We're going to find a door so we can get out of here!" Shadow shouts back. The spider takes another giant step, shaking the ground below their hooves. Each time Shadow has to try and adjust to the tremors and not let herself be thrown off her hooves. "But it'll take me a few seconds to cast the spell!"

"It'll eat us in a few seconds!" the colt says, looking as though he's on verge of screaming again. Shadow groans. She had thought of that...she just had just hoped he wouldn't. Goodness, Daffy coped much better than this. Of course, the little filly with the dolls had outright fainted but you can't win them all.

"We'll work around it," Shadow fibs. "Now hard right!" She veers off course suddenly and the colt has had just enough warning to follow her, stumbling on his skinny legs as he does so. Their sudden divergence seems to have bought them a little bit of time. The spider doesn't appear to be very bright and manoeuvring with those large legs can't be easy.

"It just had to be spiders..." Shadow mutters again. "And left!"

The spider makes a strangled noise as its prey escapes it's reach once more. Shadow feels bile rising at the back of her throat. Oh, good, a giant hungry spider that can talk. At least they can have a good chat about politics and the like before they get eaten.

"Did that thing just talk?" she shouts at the colt. He winces.

"Yes. probably. The smaller ones usually do!" he says, defensively. Shadow screeches quietly out of disbelief and frustration and then snaps "That doesn't help! Why in Equestria can they talk? No, don't answer that! Now left!"

They veer off course once more and run full pelt down the street. Shadow knows that they won't be able to do this much more before the spider catches on. But if she can buy them a bit of time by slowing it down then she'll have enough time to cast the spell to get them out of here. She risks a glance over her shoulder. the street they've gone down is a bit too small for the spider to fit through and is currently attempting to squeeze it's body through the gap but this only achieves its many legs getting caught instead. Now is the time or they may not get another chance.

"That door there!" Shadow shouts. Her legs feel as though they might buckle beneath her and she's running out of breath to speak. But the colt gets her meaning and puts on a small burst of speed now that an end is in sight. Shadow sucks in a deep breath and pushes harder to keep up with him.

"Do it now, do it now!" the colt begs as she makes it to the door, panting heavily. Shadow glares at him, trying to summon moisture to her mouth. The spider appears to have gotten a leg free and is trying to scuttle sideways. It's not having much luck but if it figures out to go over the buildings they're in so much trouble. Trapped in a web and devoured trouble.

Shadow ignores the panicking colt besides her and lights up her horn. The spell is intricate and complex and it's hard enough when it's just her she has to move through dreams. This is the fourth time now she's had to escort another passenger and it's not getting any easier. It's a significant amount of power more required to move across dreams than it is to adjust the dream itself. But these kinds of dreams won't let her change any details, not a thing. Even more worryingly, not even the dreamer has any control.

The spider roars again - and that's a sentence she never thought she'd say - and pounds a leg against the ground. Everything shudders and the colt nearly collapses into a ball.

"You know, real spiders don't act like this!" Shadow says, eyes closed, still weaving magic. Just a little bit more. Pull on this thread here and move that over there and...

The door lights up in an indigo glow, signifying that the spell is complete. The door is now a portal. Hopefully it'll take them to a much less terrifying place than this one.

"I know but this is much scarier!" the colt whimpers, from behind his hooves.

"Well, can you dream a bit more realistically next time?" Shadow snaps, fed up. Cannibal clowns and an army of machete wielding dolls and bugs with large pincers every night will do that to a pony. "Spiders don't talk, don't roar and don't have temper tantrums!"

Shadow is suddenly cut off by a string of white, sticky goo pinning her foreleg to the ground. The colt shrieks and tries to bolt but suffers the same treatment. Now they're both stuck. Fantastic.

"Is that spiderweb?" Shadow asks incredulously, trying to pull her leg free. The colt seems to be shuddering and not looking at the web covering his hooves. Behind them the spider....grins? Or at least makes an unpleasant face that looks like glee and continues to try to wriggle through the gap.

"Actually it's spider silk and it's tensile strength is greater than the same weight of steel," he says, eyes closed. Shadow looks skyward, praying for strength.

"Well, thank you for that little bit of trivia now that we're about to be eaten," she says, not even attempting to soothe him. There's a two storey high spider advancing slowly on them, he probably knows.

"Can you get rid of it?" he says, trembling.

"Not easily," Shadow comments. If the web is like the spider itself it probably won't come off. She might not even be able to dissolve it with magic at all. It occurs to her that she's being very calm for somepony about to be tied up and swallowed whole by a huge spider. "Don't suppose you have any ideas? Do you think that spiders are afraid of bees or something stupid we can use to get it away from us?"

The colt opens his eyes, looking hopeful. "I heard once that spiders are ticklish?" Shadow can only stare at him until he wilts under her gaze.

"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard," Shadow sighs. But foals are very susceptible and rumours they hear on the playground occasionally affect their dreams. If he believes spiders to be ticklish, then there’s a good chance that in his dreams, they will be.

"Let's give it a go," Shadow says, igniting her horn and looking around for something to use. They're in a small empty street that resembles no town that shadow has ever seen - possibly one constructed entirely by the dreamer. But there's a plant pot nearby holding some long frondy thing. Shadow uses her magic to rip one out and levitate it high into the air. She narrows her eyes as she manoeuvres it under the spiders belly, just so it brushes the furry underside.

"Here goes nothing," Shadow mutters and then pulls with her magic. The frond sways back and forth, slowly at first and then picking up speed as Shadow gets the hang of the motion. To her extreme surprise the spider stills and then begins to twitch, trying to escape the unpleasant sensation.

"It's working!" the colt whispers. He’s peeking out from behind his hooves with an expression of curiosity and horror.

"This is the weirdest and most disturbing thing I've ever done," Shadow says flatly. "Don't just stand there! Try to get free. I don't know how long this will work for."

The colt bends down and tugs at his trapped hoof. It pulls off the ground somewhat but snaps back easily. It's far too sticky.

"It's not working!" he says in a panic.

“Keep trying!" Shadow says, through gritted teeth. The spider is trying to get away and Shadow has to try equally hard to keep up with it's movements, never letting it bat away her improvised tickling tool. The colt tugs and tugs, even resorting to using his teeth to rip through the silk pinning him to the ground.

"It won't budge!" he says in frustration, after very little give from the silk. Shadow grits her teeth and quickly casts her eye around for anything that can be of use to them. Something to cut the silk with or a weapon...large can of bug spray or a very big shoe but there’s nothing. There's just her. Ugh.

"Ok, so I have an idea," Shadow says reluctantly, having completely run out of options.

"Great!" the colt says eagerly.

"But you won't like it," Shadow says bluntly. His face drops.

"Don't look at me like that," Shadow says, grumpily. "We have no other options and you dreamed a massive talking hungry spider! And we're stuck!" The colt scrunches his eyes shut. The street is still shaking from the spider’s many legs crashing down into the pavement as it desperately tries to escape,

"Ok, what's the plan?" he says. 'Tell me quickly!"

Um. No. if she tells him he might protest or get too scared and he needs to be calm for this. This is going to use most of her magic and strength and she has one shot. That's all. If this doesn't work...well, then she's spider chow and Grogar rules the world. Yay.

Honestly, these life and death adventures are getting tiring.

Shadow takes a deep breath. summoning all the magical energy she has...and then drops the only thing that's keeping the spider from them. Before it even has a chance to react she teleports a metre away. She lands, dazed and tired, foreleg still sticky but no longer pinned down. By this point the spider has begun to move again and the first giant footstep has caused her companion to open his eyes in horror. Before he can scream, Shadow grabs hold of him and teleports again. They land in front of the door and Shadow wastes no time wrenching it open and throwing them both through.

Just before the door closes she gets a glimpse of eight eyes blinking in confusion. "Og?" it asks before the door shuts and the portal disintegrates.

---

“That was the worst," Shadow complains. There's gunk attached to her foreleg and she has no idea if that will come back with her to the waking world. Her legs are sore and her lungs feel like they're on fire. That's not even getting started on her how hot and itchy her horn feels. She definitely pushed it a bit too far for her magical reserves. These nightmares are getting harder and harder to escape.

They appear to have transported to an open field, sunny and alive with many colourful, blooming flowers. Across it, several foals are playing with a gigantic inflatable ball. At least somepony is having a happy dream.

Shadow exhales and lets herself relax. The grass underneath smells sweet and crisp and she has to resist the urge to take a few bites out of it. After a night of relentless running and fear, it's nice to have a few moments, letting the sun warm her belly and watching the wind carry stray flower petals past.

There's a groan next to her and she turns her head to see the colt similarly slumped on the ground. With a sigh, she rolls over and pulls herself to her tired hooves.

"Ok, kid, let's get you back to your own dream," she says, in the best calming teacher voice she can manage. He lifts his head up, face immediately changing to one of panic.

"What?" he squeaks. "You want to send me back to that....thing?" Shadow resists the urge to roll her eyes.

"No," she says. "Back to a nice, non threatening dream in your own head. This belongs to somepony else so you can't stay here. I'll make you your own special dream, how about that? Anything you like."

"In a locked steel room, protected by twenty royal guards?" he says and she's not entirely sure if it's a joke or not.

"Anything," she says through gritted teeth. "But I promise that if you ever have another nightmare, I'll come running. How's that?" He looks down at his hooves considering. Across the field, the foals chase the ball as the wind whips it away from them. They don't seem to mind though, their endless laughter echoing as they call to one another.

"Okay," the colt says finally. Shadow offers him a hoof and when he accepts it, she pulls him up. It's impressive that he managed to run for so long when he feels as though he might also be swept away by the wind.

Summoning a door takes her a moment and it causes her horn to burn uncomfortably but she does it. The colt looks suspicious and on the verge of running again when she goes to open it but inside it’s a soft, quiet dream filled with other foals playing board games.

“Off you go now,” Shadow says. “Go play a game of Ogres and Oubliettes for me.”

The colt pokes his head in but still looks back doubtfully at her. Shadow smiles and gives him a nudge.

“I promise the ogres won’t come alive,” she says, hoping against hope that’s true. She has no more left in her. “Now go play!” He beams suddenly and rushes through, where he is greeted by the crowds of foals. Shadow watches him quietly for a moment, noticing how different he is. All at once he’s become somepony that’s happy and confident, eagerly joining in the game. This dream has him in his element.

Shadow sighs heavily and lets the door close. It vanishes immediately. He’ll forget that she was there come morning, hopefully. It’ll just be another bad dream. Ponies very rarely remember their interactions with her, the strange dream mare crumbling away into distant memory the moment they wake up.

But just maybe, that colt will now know that spiders aren’t ticklish, Shadow thinks with a wry smile.

But now, it’s back to business. The night isn’t over yet and there’s so much more to do. Shadow stretches out her tired legs and carefully prods her horn. She might have to wrap it in some ice tomorrow or it’s going to hurt.

Shadow prepares to summon another door to move her to the next dream when she suddenly feels uncomfortable. It’s the sensation you feel when you sense another pony’s presence, when it wasn’t there before. The invasive feeling of somepony’s eyes on you. She whips around but of course, there’s nopony there. Just the waving flowers and laughing children.

So why does she still feel like she’s being watched?

Author's Note:

Hi! Phew, chapter ten! It took a lot of work and a lot of cutting. This chapter was previously 27 pages but now it's down to 19. Much more manageable!

Thanks to Julie and Alex as always, as without them I would not have been able to lick this chapter into shape.

This may be the last chapter before Nano, I'm afraid! Unless I'm lucky and work very hard, there probably won't be another one until December. But I love the upcoming chapters so if they're not til December, I promise they'll be worth the wait!

Several people added this to their favourites last chapter so if that was you, thank you! It really brightens my day. Shadow and I are very grateful. If you comment, fave or read, we love you dearly.

Until next time! xxx

Comments

[fanreader999999]

Different but disjointed

[Storybelle]

9244426
Ok, can you actually give feedback if you're going to be critical? I can't fix problems unless people let me know what they are. I'm not going to mind read from three words!