Chapter 3: The Heart Wants
The door to the library closed with finality, and Celestia looked around for either Twilight or Pinkie, setting down what purchases she had made and cursing herself for not having planned her time better.
Pinkie Pie bounced her way back out of the kitchen, smiling as she saw Celestia. “There you are! Thanks for coming here with us, I kinda forgot Twi-twi was left holding all the bags and I guess they got heavy for her floating like that.” Her smile quirked down just a little as something occurred to her. “Actually, I don’t know how heavy it is to lift something with your horn. I hope she didn’t strain herself!”
Celestia opened and closed her mouth in rapid succession, both having the answer Pinkie sought and in the next instant being certain she should not give one because she wasn’t supposed to be able to cast magic. “I... suspect she’s fine. I see unicorns carrying very heavy things all the time in Canterlot. It’s probably a different kind of strain.”
“Oooo!” Pinkie said, her eyes lighting up. “Is that where you came from? I was gonna ask that because you look new but I feel like I know you from somewhere and I’ve met a lot of ponies in Canterlot! I mean, not like here where I know almost everypony except for ponies who are only passing through on their way to other places but still like a lot of ponies.”
Okay, I’m still not sure how you’ve managed to not have either of them realize who you are, but here’s your opportunity to really test your ability to improvise, Celestia. Astra’s voice said, sounding amused. Let’s see how long you can keep it up before they notice.
“Well, I don’t think you and I have met before,” Celestia said. Meaning, of course, that Aurora hadn’t. “I work in the castle, so maybe you saw me there?”
Pinkie gave her a long, serious look, the near-omnipresent smile gone from her face as an intense look of concentration replaced it. After a nerve-wracking length of time she shook her head, looking frustrated. “I dunno! You look so familiar but I can’t say why! Maybe you have a sister in Canterlot and I met her?”
“A sister?” Celestia replied carefully.
Pinkie nodded rapidly. “ Uhuh!”
Does Aurora have family? Astra asked.
The question gave Celestia pause. “I’d... rather not talk about it,” she said after a long moment. As easy as it would have been to deny having a sister, it felt incredibly wrong to do so. And saying yes meant having to invent a sibling, which further complicated matters.
“Pinkie!” Twilight called from the stairwell leading to the basement and laboratory below the library. “Did your new friend catch up?”
“She’s right here!” Pinkie called back. “I’m still trying to figure out where I know her from!”
“Are you interrogating her in the doorway?”
Pinkie looked behind Celestia for a moment, then called back: “No, she’s inside, and the door’s closed.”
“Maybe you could invite her to sit down and have something to drink?”
Pinkie’s eyes widened, and she smacked a forehoof to her head. “That’s being a bad host, Pinkie Pie!” Her gaze flashed back to Celestia, and she asked: “Would you like to sit down and have something to drink?”
“That would be fine,” Celestia said.
“She says that’s fine!” Pinkie yelled in the direction of the stairs.
“Good! I’ll be right up.”
“She’ll be right up,” Pinkie said with an apparent lack of self-awareness. “Is tea okay? Twilight drinks a lot of tea.”
“Tea would be lovely, thank you.”
Pinkie nodded, ran off to the kitchen, and returned in no time with a tea set and a kettle ready to pour from. “I like mine with lots of sugar, how do you take yours?”
“I’ll take mine the same way,” Celestia said without missing a beat.
“So,” Pinkie said after she’d made them both a cup and had settled down opposite Celestia. “Where are you staying, how long will you be here, and when is your birthday? I hope it’s soon!”
Oh dear. There are the puppy dog eyes.
“I...”
“Oh good, you made tea!” Twilight said as she plopped down next to Pinkie. “Figured out her birthday yet?”
“Nopers! I just asked!” Pinkie replied with a smile.
“Right. Well, I’m kind of interested myself. If she actually tells you, you’d be the first to know it.”
Pinkie’s eyes somehow became wider and even more soulful. “I’d be the first pony to know what your birthday is?” she said in a voice choked with barely suppressed glee.
Well, Twilight seems to have seen past your disguise. No surprise there.
Celestia hesitated for a moment longer, then let out a long-held breath. “How long?” she asked Twilight instead of addressing Pinkie’s questions.
“The moment I saw your face.” Twilight answered over her tea.
“That long?” Celestia asked in surprise.
Twilight nodded. “Whatever you cast on your horn is very effective. Was it one of Wallflower’s?”
Celestia nodded. “‘Notice-me-not’, with a static repulsion to keep insects, birds, and low-flying Pegasi from impaling themselves. Not perfect, but enough. Nopony else even blinked more than twice.”
Twilight nodded again with a growing grin. “That was good thinking! But why didn’t you hide your wings instead?”
“Economy of resources,” Celestia answered promptly. “The variant I used was one Wallflower developed for hiding stationary objects in plain sight. My wings move just a little no matter what I am doing. My horn does not.”
“And ‘See-me-not”—”
“Requires constant output,” Celestia said by way of confirmation. “I was also banking a lot on my physical changes throwing ponies off.”
“Yeah!” Twilight said, looking Celestia up and down appraisingly, “The dress helped too. It looks really nice, by the way. Was that one of the ones Rarity brought back with her?”
Celestia nodded, touching it fondly with a hoof. “I used to love this one. But it stopped fitting a good two thousand years ago. That was why I left it behind. I’ve... slimmed down a bit, it seems.”
“Uh...” Pinkie said, trying to get a word in edgewise.
Celestia shook her head, flashing Pinkie an apologetic smile. She dismissed the glamour on her horn, saying: ”Pinkie, I’m very sorry.”
Pinkie blinked, then smiled an even bigger smile. “Hey! That is pretty good! I mean I’m little sad because I wanted to introduce you to Aurora and now I guess that’s not happening...”
“I didn’t honestly mean to trick you, Pinkie—”
“Nonono! That’s neat!” Pinkie said, the grin not budging an inch.
“Do you think so?” Celestia asked. “I mean, I wanted to be able to go out and not make the whole town worried about Princess Celestia being there, and it worked fairly well, all things considered.”
“Yeah! I mean, I would have gone with glasses to complete the look but yeah, I didn’t even know!”
I told you glasses would have been perfect! Astra grumbled in her mind.
“I mean, I kinda thought maybe I knew you but I couldn’t think of how and there’s just enough difference that I couldn’t be sure.” Pinkie concluded. “You did a super job!”
“I’m still sorry I tricked you, Pinkie.” Celestia said solemnly. “This,” she gestured at herself, “wasn’t for you and Twilight. I was supposed to be home before you two got back.”
“Were you still gonna show us?” Pinkie asked. “Because I like it! Like, we could maybe go outside together now! I could maybe show you how I bake at Sugarcube Corner or we could all take a walk through the woods together and nopony would be like ‘Oh my gosh the Princess is here, somepony get the banner!’’
“I... I honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead,” Celestia admitted. “I was just a little lonely and wanted to go out and see some ponies—” she stopped as she felt Pinkie’s strong hooves wrap around the base of her neck in a tight hug.
“I told you she might get lonely!” Pinkie said, flashing Twilight a little frown.
Twilight looked stricken for a long moment, her whole posturing visibly drooping. “I... I’m sorry, Princess—”
“Oh no!” Pinkie said, dropping down from Celestia’s neck so she could scramble to Twilight and envelop her in a hug. “I didn’t mean it, honest! It’s okay!”
Celestia was uncertain what to say for a moment, then said: “Twilight, I was fine, really. If anything, you three being gone drove me to seek out a means to go out and visit the town, for which I am grateful, because I enjoyed myself immensely.” She looked askance at the two of them, her eyes narrowing. “Where is Spike, incidentally?”
“He decided to stay and catch up with friends for a week.” Twilight said after composing herself.
“Moonie has a week off.” Pinkie said, as if that explained everything. She did not release Twilight for another few moments, and when she did, she pulled back slowly and reluctantly.
Celestia frowned, but said nothing. She had enjoyed having Spike, Twilight, and herself together for a time, it had felt almost as if Twilight had never left her side. And the addition of Pinkie, while spoiling the aforementioned illusion, had been more than welcome. They’d made an odd but lively little household together. But she could not fault Spike for wanting to spend a bit of time with other friends after having attended Rarity’s wedding. Friends that... didn’t remind him so much of Rarity.
While he had come to terms with his affections being unrequited remarkably well, it wasn’t the easiest thing to attend the wedding of somepony you truly loved, even after you let them go.
She’d attended more than a few, after doing the same. It had never gotten easier.
Are you being melancholy again? Astra demanded.
Celestia, in a quick little whisper to Astra, said: “No, I’m fine.” then followed to Twilight with: “Well, I’m glad he’s enjoying himself.”
“He is.” Twilight said. “He seemed pretty happy at the ceremony. If you can give me a bit to unpack I can show you what I saw later.”
“Of course! I actually wanted to make dinner for us, I was buying ingredients when you found me—”
“Ooo! I can help, pick me!” Pinkie said, excitedly waving her hoof in the air.
Celestia looked askance at Twilight, who nodded.
“You two have fun. Call me up when it’s ready.”
Pinkie and Celestia shared a smile only known to those lucky enough to have found a unexpectedly shared passion. Celestia could not help herself, cooking was fun. And here there was nopony around to scold her for trying to make things while she had a fully staffed kitchen composed of the finest cooks to be found from various cuisines. Anypony (or any other race) could be assured of finding the finest foods when dining in her castle.
Celestia, meanwhile, had been experiencing an unfulfilled want of something as simple as peanut butter sandwich for well over five hundred years. Had she not been running a kingdom singlehoofedly in Luna’s absence she might have resorted to breaking and entering just to make herself a snack now and again. Being here in Ponyville meant complete freedom of a kitchen again, and she loved it.
Pinkie Pie, while obviously not forbidden to cook, was simultaneously not a baking talent. She was an experimenter, and though occasionally things went awry, she loved the process itself, and the resulting food was a distant second in her estimation. She could cook by a cookbook, but she much preferred to mix tastes that went well together, just to see what happened.
Celestia already had a list of a few favorites she’d experienced that she intended to give to her cooks. She expected some very strange looks followed by uncomfortable grudging acceptance. She also had a list she was debating giving to her weapons research department, assuming she didn’t have them put away in the Forbidden Knowledge section of her library.
There were some things that were too horrible to contemplate, even to use on one’s worst enemies.
“So... what did you want to make tonight?” Pinkie asked with barely suppressed glee.
“I was thinking I might try my hoof at a nice souffle,” Celestia replied. “And some of that crusty bread you made the other night, and maybe a chocolate mousse for dessert.”
Pinkie helped gather up the bags Celestia had laid down earlier, rooting around inside for a moment before pulling her head back out with a disappointed look. “I don’t see any moose!”
What followed was a very silly back and forth banter that Celestia had grown accustomed to in the weeks she’d been staying with Twilight. It largely consisted of whether mooses were in some way associated with mice and why one would want to use either in the making of a dessert.
Celestia was quite accustomed to nonsense, having led a nation in which generations of nobles came to her with their petty squabbles, each thinking their situation was somehow unique despite the fact that many of those conflicts were very nearly genetic. They would sometimes be forgotten for a generation only to reignite in a sudden blaze that she could very nearly be able to predict to within a decade.
Pinkie Pie was nonsensical, but in a way that actually made Celestia smile.
“Soooo...” Pinkie singsonged as she chopped up a pile of spinach. “When is your birthday?”
Celestia winced just a little, having very nearly forgotten the question from earlier. “Well... that’s a bit difficult,” she admitted after a long moment. “I don’t actually know.”
The chopping sound stopped mid-chop, and Celestia could feel the shocked stare Pinkie had leveled on her.
“I... I wasn’t so much born into this world as I was sent here, along with my sister. In the land we came from... time has no meaning. I know we were young, for our kind, and I have no real memories from then...” When it became apparent her explanation was falling on deaf ears, Celestia stopped whipping the butter and eggs, setting the beater aside. “I could tell you with some approximation how long ago I first arrived?”
“You don’t have a birthday?” Pinkie asked in a very small voice.
“Not... as such, no,” Celestia said, more and more uncertain of what she could or should say in this situation but trying to satisfy Pinkie in some way. “But I do have several holidays in which ponies celebrate—”
“When do you eat birthday cake?” Pinkie demanded.
“Well... I have cake whenever I want, Pinkie.” Celestia replied, taken aback.
“Nonono! Those are just cakes! Birthday cake is special!” Pinkie said, throwing her hooves up in exasperation. “You’d know that if you’d ever had one!”
“I’ve had birthday cake aplenty over the years, Pinkie. I’ve helped celebrate hundreds of thousands of birthdays.”
“That’s another pony’s cake!” Pinkie replied with a vehement shake of her head. “It’s different when you’re eating a cake made just for you by ponies who are happy you got to be with them for another year and want to wish you even more years!” she began pacing back and forth in growing agitation. “You can’t just not have a birthday! It’s a really, really important day!”
Celestia’s ears wilted back in the face of Pinkie’s fierce declaration. She’d never even considered how very important such a thing was, not just to a pony, but to the ponies who loved them.
And the worst of it was, she had no solution. Offering to determine what day in particular she’d crossed the veil was not the same as a birthday. And while she had been ‘born’, there was no record of which particular moment of timelessness it had occurred. She knew only that she was older than her sister, and that she and Luna collectively could remember only the vaguest impressions of what life had been like before they had been sent to this land. “I’m... sorry, Pinkie.”
“It’s not your fault,” Pinkie said with a little sniffle. “It’s just a little sad, you know? I figured I’d find out your birthday finally because you’d be visiting Twilight for snuggles and then I could maybe have a giant cake with all the candles—”
“Oh... at a rough estimate I wouldn’t try that, Pinkie,” Celestia said, sounding more than a little alarmed. “The surface area would be prohibitive and assuming I could blow it out at all you’d have a cake covered in wax just in the time it would take to light the thing.”
Pinkie reached deep into her mane and pulled out a diagram that not only listed a surprisingly accurate estimation of the candles required but also a plan for a corkscrew maneuver that could be performed by one of the Wonderbolts (or Rainbow Dash) to light each candle within a span of three point two-nine-seven seconds. It further listed the dimensions of the cake, and a recipe with the precise measurements of each ingredient, many of which were in Equish Tonnes. “I know my birthday cakes,” she said in a sad little voice.
Celestia’s eyes grew wider as she realized that the recipe itself was one used by her personal pâtissière Giselda, and further that it was the one that Celestia had classified as a state secret.
Since the recipe in question wasn’t in any cookbook, the fact that Pinkie had it meant she’d gotten it directly from one of the two beings in the world who knew it. Somegriffon had some explaining to do.
She’s put a lot of thought and planning into this, hasn’t she?
“She has,” Celestia replied in a whisper.
Shame we don’t know of anypony who say... just came into existence recently. Somepony who could be said to have been ‘born’ today, if only from the imagination of a mare wanting to go from a walk. And if it’s not exactly the same as a birthday... well, who’s to know?
Celestia’s eyes widened, and a slow smile grew on her face. “Pinkie... I think I have an idea.”
Pinkie looked up from the spinach leaves on the chopping block. “You do?
“I do. Do you remember Aurora?”
Pinkie looked confused for a moment. “Uh... yeah? We met like, less than an hour ago. And then I found out she was you, and I was sad because I wanted her to meet you. And then we started making dinner—”
“Yes, exactly,” Celestia said quickly before Pinkie narrated up to the present moment, which she would do if not stopped. “And do you remember how you asked her when her birthday was?”
“Yeah?” Pinkie replied, looking even more befuddled. “But I thought you said you don’t know when it is?”
“That’s... not entirely true. You see, Aurora’s birthday was today.”
There was a long, stunned silence, followed by a high pitched scream that was nearly as much joy as panic and a pink blur that resolved itself into the pony hugging Celestia so hard around the neck she could barely get a breath of air in. This went on nearly long enough for Celestia’s white coat to turn blue, and she thanked all that was good that her physiology allowed her to survive things that would kill most ponies.
“I have to throw you a birthday party right away!” Pinkie said as she finally let go of her deathgrip. “And a welcome to Ponyville party too! Or, well, for Aurora, but that’s you... I think?” Pinkie reached up and clamped both of her hooves on Celestia’s face, all but screaming: “What kind of cake does Aurora like?!”
“Pinkie, I didn’t mean for the celebration to be today—”
“But today is her birthday and it’s already night time!” Pinkie said insistently. “Do you know how many favors I’ll need to call in to get everypony in Ponyville here in the middle of the night? It’s quite a few!”
“Pinkie, please calm down—”
“I don’t need calm! I need balloons and streamers and icing and party hats—”
Celestia, against her better judgement, took that moment to put Pinkie into a stasis field. Movement of the jaw was impossible, leaving Pinkie with no other option than to hyperventilate to express her extreme panic.
A large bead of sweat dripped from the end of Celestia’s nose as she held the shield. She was using the smallest amount of magic possible to maintain the spell, but Pinkie was a hyperkinetic ball of pure energy. Trying to keep her still was difficult at the best of times. “P-Pinkie. It’s okay, really. The party can be a day or two late. It’s fine.”
Having said that, she set Pinkie down, releasing her stasis on Pinkie and needing to sit down for a moment afterwards. That single spell had represented the largest expenditure of magic she’d used in several weeks, and she silently congratulated herself while simultaneously cursing herself for an idiot.
Pinkie sat down beside her, uncharacteristically quiet. “Are you sure it’s okay?” she asked as she looked up.
“It’s fine, Pinkie. I’ve never had a birthday party before, and neither has Aurora. We should take our time and do it right.”
Pinkie was quiet for a moment more, then nodded. “It’ll be so special!” she said as she stretched upwards to wrap her hooves around Celestia’s neck (thankfully not squeezing) and whispering: “I can’t believe I get to be your first!”
Celestia blushed furiously, simultaneously affected by the double entendre and convinced that Pinkie Pie was unaware she’d even made one.
When Pinkie had calmed down a little, they began to combine the ingredients of the souffle together, then started on the bread dough. All the while Pinkie talked excitedly about preparations she would need to make.
Celestia just listened for a time, feeling pleased with herself. “Yes, Pinkie, that sounds wonderful. And I was thinking, later on, we could maybe do something about a party for me, without needing to be in disguise.”
Pinkie stopped dead in the middle of kneading the bread, looking at her like a dog that just caught a whiff of rabbit. “Did you remember when your birthday was?”
Celestia’s smile faltered just a little before she shored it back up. “Well, no. And I’m afraid Luna would say the same. I’m not even sure if they know what a ‘day’ is, where we came from. But we could certainly find something to celebrate for me, if you wish. Just because I don’t know my own birthday doesn’t mean we can’t try to track down what day Luna and I first came to Equestria. You could even throw a party for both of us, since it happened on the same day.”
Celestia had never before seen a pony gasp quite so much as she did watching Pinkie Pie after hearing that piece of information. What followed could only be described as ‘exuberance’, and Celestia spent several minutes afterwards patiently trying to get a few words of warning in between bounces and bursts of confetti to convey that this particular party would be a more long term plan for after she’d recovered and gone back to Canterlot.
“It’s for Luna too, after all, so we’d need to have her there.”
“Right! Right right right!” Pinkie said, sporting a smile that beamed so brightly Celestia almost suspected magic. “Sorry, it’s just this is really, really exciting! It’s like party overload in my brain right now!”
“I understand,” Celestia replied. “Let’s get dinner into the oven and then we can talk about what type of cake Aurora might like.”
When the last of the guests had finally gone, Luna visibly relaxed, slumping back into her chair.
Being a guest herself, she had no responsibilities for seeing everypony else off, but that didn’t mean it was fun for her to watch as Fancy and Fleur did the verbal equivalent of herding cats until the last one was bid good evening.
Perhaps it was a little fun. She’d been subjected to many of these same faces on a day to day basis (faces that had at first lit up upon seeing her, and come closer to attempt to engage her, before being intercepted by Fancy and occupied elsewhere for a time.) and seeing those faces go away was a special kind of joy for her.
Two faces did interest her, however, and while Fancy was in the middle of chatting with an investment banker (A rather bland fellow called Cart Blanch) she wandered over to Lord and Lady Worthingham, who were gathering their coats and making ready to go home themselves.
She stopped at a respectful distance from them, and quietly cleared her throat.
The reaction was immediate, but not the desired one. Instead of a simple greeting, she was met with looks of shock and fear. This confounded her, as she hadn’t made any threatening moves on either of them to her knowledge.
Oh, wait. I did mention hounding them with horrors. But that was weeks ago, surely—
“Please, Princess. I’m not certain how we earned your wrath, but if you must punish somepony, let it be me, leave my poor Knotty alone...” The Lady begged, bringing Luna back from her musings.
“No, not her!” The Lord said, standing up and physically blocking Luna’s sight before she could even respond to the first wrong thing in this conversation. “Let it be me, Princess!”
She simply stood speechless for a time, uncertain how to respond. When she did open her mouth, it was to ask in honest curiosity: “Have either of you done anything that you feel would draw my ire?”
What followed was both the Lord and Lady stridently trying to speak past one another, confessing every sin they could think of.
Luna patiently listened during it all, marveling that if she could bring about this sort of reaction from everypony she could cut court sessions down to one fourth their current length. In time she had the sense that they were grasping at straws, and held up a single hoof to silence them both.
“Most of the things you have mentioned are not crimes so much as wrongdoings against one another, for which only they can forgive you. However...” she pointed at the Lord, looking down her nose severely. “You, if you have spoke truly, are guilty of tax evasion, and should make an appointment with the tax assessor's office. Do so of your own volition, settle accounts accordingly, and I will consider the matter ended.”
He nodded, bowing deep and low to her. “I will, Princess. Did you require anything else from us?”
Luna frowned thoughtfully. She had intended a bit of quiet conversation, wanting to probe them for how their relationship fared. Yet in her approach she had prompted both to stand their ground for the other, laying their souls bare to her in hopes of sparing their spouse pain. She had hoped for signs of a love flourishing, but found instead two ponies who believed themselves threatened by her mere presence.
Perhaps I meddle in affairs not of my ken. I shall consult with Princess Cadence on the matter. At the very least she could approach them without provoking their fear.
“No, that shall be all, Lord. I bid you and the Lady a good evening, and shall trust you to take care of the tax matter at your leisure.”
She turned away, not waiting for a response, though a glance backwards gave her some measure of satisfaction as the Lady helped the Lord up and embraced him as if she’d just dragged him ashore near-drowned. She snorted quietly, half in frustration and half in acceptance. Having a common adversary drew ponies together, as ancient instincts ever prompted the herd to protect one another.
So be it.
She put them out of her mind for the moment, sitting down and taking another glass of wine in her magic. Fleur, seeing this, frowned, and whispered something to Fancy before trotting back to their little seating area and taking a place next to Luna.
“Princesse?” she asked, looking somewhat worried. “Is something wrong? Did the Worthinghams bother you?”
Luna shook her head. “No, Fleur. It seemed it was I who bothered them. Think no more of the matter. ‘Tis settled.”
“It doesn’t look settled in your mind, ma petite,” Fleur said, reaching up to brush a bit of Luna’s mane away from her face. “I can have Fancy put them on the ‘never again’ list if you wish.”
“Do not.” Luna said quickly. “Tis not their fault that I am as I am. I merely wished to see how they fared, perhaps be thanked a little for nudging them in the right direction...”
Fleur looked at her curiously, a small smile growing where the frown had been before. “Ah, you meddled, and wished to be rewarded for it?”
“Well, perhaps not rewarded...” Luna replied petulantly. “But certainly I did not expect to be considered a threat.”
Fleur clucked her tongue as she shook her head. “You can be just a little intimidating, ma petite.”
“I do not intend such here, though!” Luna protested. “I merely wanted to ask after the health of their relationship, whether they had come to a better understanding of one another. I’ve seen their dreams, Fleur. There is love there. It became tainted with hurt feelings, and the poor Lady seemed to be sleeping with the help specifically in hopes of being caught, just to elicit some reaction out of the Lord, but...”
“Is that all? I can tell you everything you might want to know, and several things you might not.” Fleur said, a little purr in her voice. “Shall I whisper their secrets to you?”
On the other side of the room, Fancy was in the process of bidding the Worthinghams goodbye. Luna only glanced for a moment, but even in that moment she saw the Lady giving her a wary eye. She sighed heavily, reasoning that if she could not speak with the couple, secondhoof information would at least satisfy her curiosity. “Tell me,” she said, adding: “Please,” after a mere moments consideration.
“Well,” Fleur said, visibly perking up in both posture and mood. “You caused a bit of a stir between them after you interceded. Lord Worthingham looked positively haunted for some time afterwards. Not only did he not seek out new partners, he turned down anypony when approached.”
Luna frowned. “I never meant for him to forbear taking up with other partners entirely. Just that he should be honest with the Lady, as you and Fancy are.”
“Some ponies cannot do such things, Princesse,” Fleur replied. “The heart wants what it wants, and cannot bear what it cannot bear. The Lady bore a deep hurt for his callousness, and could not even forgive him at first, though watching him try to earn her love back was quite moving. It took her weeks to even allow him back in their home.”
“They’ve made much progress, then,” Luna said, feeling a thrill of gratification.
“They have, though it was not without troubles even still. The butler caused quite a scene some weeks ago when he had the gall to challenge the Lord for the Lady’s honour.”
Luna gasped in combined outrage and excitement. “What transpired?”
“They fought with rapiers at dawn, and the fight was terrible and cruel. Their resolve was identical, for each fought for the same lady’s affection. They were both injured sorely, bleeding from several wounds, when the Lady bade them stop... and went to the Lord first to tend his injuries. The butler was heartbroken, but took his leave with dignity. I am told he was swept up by a minor home who nurses him back to health even now.”
Luna was dumbstruck, feeling horribly conflicted. On the one hoof, she was glad for the Lady and her Lord, whose affection had been sorely tested by each other to emerge stronger for it, but she had not thought for the poor underling who had sought to provide the Lady comfort as her Lord left her forlorn. She hoped he found his own solace in turn, given time.
Fleur burrowed under one of Luna’s wings, growing increasingly brazen as the last of their guests were bid farewell. “Do not fret, mapetite. Tis a risk one takes when they involve themselves with such as the Worthinghams. He presumed he had some claim on the Lady’s heart just because she asked him to share her bed.”
She nodded, but inwardly Luna cringed at the words. Was she presuming too much? Was it her right to even ask if these two would be her consorts? She was a princess, she had the power, the influence, but had she the right, save that for being what she was very little could be barred to her?
She cared deeply for Fleur. There was a fiery and sometimes dangerous attraction between the two of them. Was that enough to call love? Was it right to ask so much if it was not?
And then there was Fancy. She respected him, she valued his council, but her feelings on him were nebulous. They were tinged with shades of gratitude and guilt for his willingness to allow the closeness that existed between Luna and his spouse. Something more was developing between Luna and Fancy, more than friendship but less than love, but Fancy was hesitant, as was Luna. She still, in her heart of hearts, feared spoiling their love for one another, even while seeking it from them in her selfishness.
She was attracted to him, but not in the fiery way she was to Fleur. Fancy was an amazingly skilled lover, though admittedly she had no other stallion to compare him to, since she’d never lain with one prior to being in his strong and sure hooves. Their lovemaking had been passionate, but when they were together it was as if he made love to Fleur by way of Luna. She wondered what it might be like to be the true object of his affection, even for a brief moment.
He left her very conflicted. Even if she did care for him, was there any way in which he would truly care for Luna herself? Was that important in a consort? Could she accept devotion from one and mere acceptance from the other? Was that fair to him?
“You are fretting,” Fleur accused, squirming around to look deep into Luna’s eyes with a pout. “Stop.”
Luna blinked, blushing in the face of the accusation. “I am... sorry, Fleur.”
Fleur shook her head, allowing the pout to turn into a slow smile. “Do not be sorry, be here, with me. You have worries, tell me what they are.”
Luna had faced many a foe, staring down dragons, griffon flights, and wild beasts. But that smile made her feel weak as a newborn kitten. “I... fear you cannot aid in these worries, Fleur.”
Fleur looked at her quizzically, the smile remaining. It was not dissimilar to ones Luna had seen on the faces of nobles making outlandish requests in her court. It said ‘I have you now’. Their expressions quickly changed as she denied them, for their words held no sway on her. But such was not true of Fleur, as Luna could not look away from that self-satisfied gaze. “Very well, ma petite. You say I cannot help, perhaps I cannot. Shall I help you take your mind off your worries instead?”
Luna felt her heart skip a beat, then two. Whatever Fleur had in mind would surely not help in any way. It would almost certainly send her feelings aswirl even more. Yet... that was why she was here, after all. The more she felt this affection, this warmth and giddiness, the less uncertain she was of whether what she felt was love.
Night Blossom would have laughed at her, then kissed her nose, all the while smiling the same smile Fleur gave her. She would have surely been amused by the idea that her Princess hesitated in any way to take Fleur in her embrace and let all worries settle themselves.
She did her best to put the matter of consorts out of her mind, promising herself that she would think on it again in the morning. Tonight was for her friends, and for herself.
“Please,” Luna said, allowing a smile on her own face.
Luna did not dream, not in the sense that a normal pony did. While raising the moon had been the first signs of her talent, she’d quickly learned it was far from the extent of it. From the moment she’d first taken conscious step into the dreamscape, she’d never again ‘fallen’ into a dream. She could fashion a dream for herself, and often did, but by and large she preferred to spend even her time of rest visiting those restless souls who, because of occupations or inclination, continued to sleep well past when the sun rose.
She thus found it fascinating to find herself in one after so long. Whatever was unfolding around her was a True Dream, a wish of her heart, so to speak. It was vivid, and pure, much like the dream of a child. And with the wonder of a child she followed in its wake rather than fight it, curious about where it would go.
Luna walked amongst the flowers of her youth.
This was not a metaphor, in her case. The garden surrounding her was one she had worked on since time immemorial. She could still remember, of course, but the ponies who had built the surrounding walls were long since dead, even their bones having turned to dust. The flowers were naturally only memories of memories of the original bulbs and seeds planted here as well.
They were lovely, for being colorful ephemeral dust. The same could be said for ponies and flowers alike. Flowers, however, could be gathered from amongst particular variants that did best in darkness. Ponies tended to frown on doing the same to them.
They could be hired, however.
Ponies were not nocturnal by nature, but could be persuaded to be so. Coin, room, and board was a perfectly acceptable reason to purchase the short life of a pony, one month at a time. It was the reason for the small contingent of Night Guards that stood a lonely vigil outside the gates, ever searching the forest for signs of unwanted intrusion. It was also the reason Luna had anypony to tend to her during her own lonely nights.
Luna had few servants. In fact, she would say that she had only one, for the castle staff answered to her sister, and only served Luna as Celestia ordered, staying late to ensure cleaning was finished and dinner (or breakfast, in Luna’s case) was laid out. She took no umbrage at this, as it had always been thus. Her sister was the warmth and light of the realm, while Luna was the healing, restorative rest. Everypony loved a sunny day, but nopony celebrated a good night’s rest, and only noticed the lack thereof. Luna herself had not missed the adoration of the populace, for she had all she needed with one.
Luna turned a corner, and saw her garden’s caretaker in the distance. Night Blossom was not a pony who would stand out in a crowd, with her coat the color of freshly tilled earth and mane black as a night without a moonrise. Her face was fair, her frame sturdy, she was not unattractive by any means, but she was hardly a pony that would inspire bards to song.
Luna had been utterly smitten with her.
She had been born to the world as Sunflower, an odd name for one with such dark features, but perhaps her parents had hoped the name would prove prophetic. She had dubbed herself Night Blossom in honor of her new mistress, which Luna had found oddly touching. She knew from experience that ponies placed in her employ found it difficult to socialize with ponies of the day. Fighting the diurnal cycle was not easy on the equine form, and left one with a vague sense of fatigue no matter if they’d slept well or not. For this mare to dedicate her life, and even her name was... gratifying, in a way Luna had never previously experienced.
Blossom turned as Luna approached, a warm smile upon her face. “Princess! You’ve returned!”
Luna was not a pony who smiled, as a rule. It was less about being her being unhappy and more about projecting an aura of calm and just a little menace to the populace. But she could not help but answer that smile with one of her own, no matter how her face ached from it later.
“Aye, ‘tis good to be back.” Luna said, and after only a moment’s hesitation indulged in a mutual nuzzle with Blossom, even kissing the side of her neck as they parted. It was so nostalgic to see her again, even here. She breathed deep in Blossom’s mane, smelling the earthiness that clung therein even despite how fastidious she was with herself.
“Princess... not here.” Blossom said demurely. “Prying eyes—”
“If anypony dares spy upon us in Mine own garden they will find out very quickly why ‘tis a bad idea.” Luna said, her eyes flashing in the moonlight.
Blossom smiled anew, blushing hotly in the face of her Princess’s protectiveness. “Of course, Princess. Do as you will.”
“Aye, there is naught to fear in the dark, save me,” Luna said, her smile taking on a wicked, predatory look.
She claimed Blossom’s lips with her own, cupping just under Blossom’s chin with one of her ebon-clad forehooves. Her eyes opened in surprise at how passionately her kiss was returned.
When the two broke apart, both gasping for air, Blossom stammered out: “Forgive me, my Princess. I have missed you so much...”
Luna looked at Blossom quizzically, unsure what exactly bothered her about Blossom’s words, but struck with a surety that something was wrong. She had taken this all for a mere memory of times long past, a gift for her troubled heart, but things were going distinctly different from any such memory.
“Surely I have not been gone so long as that?” Luna asked with a single raised eyebrow.
“Never gone, but never here,” Blossom answered, tears in her eyes. “You’ve not wished to come, until now.”
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...well, this Dream of Luna's just got incomparably interesting!
Luna, Princess of wet dreams.
Curiouser
Wait. Is Night Blossom was real in dream or just a dream? Or as Dumbledore said "Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"
Love how much Celestia is bonding with Pinkie, it's absolutely adorable.
Well
This dream has gotten weird
Should I wake up?
Well, this has gotten weird.
Hope Night isn’t the jealous type....
I'll freely admit, this story and Green are the only works that made me see Twilight x Pinkie as a believable couple.
8850608
Pinkie is extremely shippable. It helps that she wants to make everypony smile.
I get the feeling that this Night Blossom is not just a memory... but a part of the actual consciousness of the very pony.
remove
Hmm... I would've used 'familial' myself, there. It's not like they have the conflict in their DNA, right? I'd rather assume it was how they were brought up, much like the Montagues and the Capulets...
10006251
Well, that's the thing. It is familial, so not very nearly. She's saying that it's almost as if the conflicts are now bred into the line itself.
Heh. In Poland (not sure about other countries), there's a tax-related institution I'd translate loosely as "active remorse" (PL: czynny żal) -- if you misfile your taxes or declarations (or outright fail to file them on time), you may contact the IRS of your own volition and essentially 'rat yourself out' and offer explanations. Considering that such are typically at least fineable offenses (some including actual prison time, depending on the severity), this is a sensible way to avoid such -- so long as you do it before the IRS contacts you to demand explanations (or has otherwise begun investigating you).
Notably, this does work even if the misfiling was intentional and a result of (or adjacent to) criminal activity, so long as you've others to rat out (the IRS likes that in particular... ;P) and weren't the chief perpetrator of the scheme yourself.
Just a random bit of trivia that felt related. ;-)