Chapter 4: I Want to Know What's in Your Head
I breathed in the crisp air of the Royal Archives. The whole tower was inlaid with layer after layer of preservation enchantments and climate-controlling spells, courtesy of Sombra and me. This way, the precious tomes and artifacts could all be stored with ease in perfect conditions. There was always a chill hanging over these halls as a result, one that I found most welcoming, but drove most others away, save for the archive division of the Royal Guard. However, that was only a reason to breathe easier — there was no great loss.
Even though I could not flex my wingspan in any of the corridors of the numerous archive rooms, there was a wonderful, vast feeling to see the spines of books and cases of scrolls stacked so. All there was utterly unnatural to the public libraries who strove for easy appeal and safe atmospheres. I wouldn’t trade that rich, timeless Otherness for anything.
Next to me, Sombra was trying to find the best spot to hang our firefly lantern. His little frustrated grumbles were always an absolute delight, and not merely because I liked hearing the masculine cadence to his voice.
“Here, love. Let me have that,” I told him.
Sombra sighed, brushing at his bangs a bit before his magic surrendered the lantern. I took it with a quiet smile, slipping the handle over an old torch sconce. Once it was there, Sombra stepped forward and let the aura on his horn grow more pronounced. The fireflies’ lights soon glowed with the same crimson hue. Eventually, his amplification spell settled, and the area illuminated by the fireflies multiplied tenfold. This way, we would not need to constantly swap between hornlight and the lantern only to partially see one scroll or part of a shelf.
Some would see the reddish glow as ominous, yet I could see little else but an alien warmth to it. I let my wings rustle contentedly and folded them again at my sides. Sombra had already selected an old book from the shelves, carefully brushed off the dust, and flipped open the deckled edged pages. From in between a couple, I spied what fell from among the pages. An intricate star-chart had unfolded, one boasting rich designs and the horrid inaccuracies that happened during my banishment.
Sombra spotted a rendering of Orion on the fold-out that gave the monster-hunting stallion a crooked belt of five stars. His eye twitched, and I could only giggle at his disgust. Such things that the so-called ‘scholars’ did, and the fact that even I could not tell whether this was done for style or born of ignorance.
“What specifically are we supposed to look for in all of this?” Sombra asked, casting an uncertain look to the shadowed tops of the shelves.
“A name!” I beamed, kicking up my forelegs in a small prance. “Here are all the most useless of texts on my domain. When Tia moved castles, she saw fit not to bring the alley scrawl of the peasants who thought themselves ‘astronomers’ in the day, but all that is make-believe in dealing with what I control.”
My husband’s ears swiveled sideways and there was nicker of confusion buried in his throat. “Ponies made up stories about the moon?”
“Nay, Sombra, not just ponies. Creatures who lived in lands that did not have the luxury of bordering Equestria had to resort to legends. Can you recall a time when the Crystal Empire possessed no knowledge of the gods?”
“Not at all,” he replied, shaking his head. “All of that would be prehistory. I do remember reading about the Crystalline race imposing idols on others under their control. Yet those were discarded around the time Equestrian interactions began.”
“And was that not around the time the history of your ponies began to be recorded?”
“Those ponies,” Sombra corrected sourly, “and yes. There is little that preceded the Northmares first contact with your, err, Southmares?”
My giggle at his guess was enough for him to keep going. The united tribal ponies truly had no name before Celestia and I ruled them once their tribe leaders died. The non-crystal kin that the tribal diaspora left back in the northern wastes — the Northmares from whom Sombra was descended — had little polite words for my subjects.
“Are you saying that these creatures tried to create gods? Do they have any idea how ridiculous it is to try and construct an idea of something one has never encountered? Worse than that, did they expect this to be a good idea?”
“I know not why those mortals did what they did, just that they created idols based on what they could fathom of the eternal, as well as a world of stories for them to inhabit. We shall scour these shelves for a proper name!”
Sombra laid back his ears and paused, only looking back at me once he had given the whole room a worried, sweeping look. “Isn’t naming an immortal dangerous and important?”
“Aye, that it is. I do not doubt that there is a name I might be able to claim lying around here, though.”
Sombra’s magic snatched up a scroll and clutched it tight as it floated about him. “You told me that no immortal before me ever had to bend to language for their name.”
“While that is true, I cannot be forced to bear a name that is ill-suited for a stallion.”
He lowered the scroll to shoot me a flat look. “You were also the one who told me there were consequences to trying to claim a name wrongly.”
“Yes, Som,” I replied, my tone shrinking to something much quieter. “Your words hold truth. I am still sure we shall be safe in looking for a name here. There are always other archive rooms we can search if this one yields nothing. I truly do understand your worry, and if that is so, I can delay the claiming ritual until we are certain. Shall that bring you peace?”
He was right, though. Language bent to immortals, not the other way around. No such word was derived from anything resembling my sister’s name before she was Celestia. Nor did my name have any meaning like ‘moon’ or its many variations
“Some,” Sombra admitted, exhaling. “I just couldn’t stand if anything happened to you…”
“I know, Som.” I stepped closer to nuzzle him when I wasn’t sure if my assuring tone was enough to comfort him. “I promise you we shall be well.”
“I just don’t want to lose you. Not when all you want is to be is yourself.” He bit at his lip. “Not when I’ve lost everything else before you.”
“We shall be fine.” I wrapped a foreleg around him, pulling Som close enough to place a kiss on his temple.
Som’s eyes met mine. Though he is never one for unwarranted optimism, I no longer see the fire of anxiety threatening to burn through him within them. I let him lean forward to give one of my ears a delightful nibble.
“Very well, Prince Charming,” Sombra said, sauntering away with unyielding pride in his posture. He thinks that his horn’s glow does not illuminate the way he smiles so slyly as he retreats among the shelves.
…
“What about this one?” Sombra asked, thrusting an open book under my muzzle.
My chest is light with excitement as I peer at the pages. On one page was a richly detailed illustration bearing a large-horned yak bull. His coat was colored pure white and he was wearing gleaming golden ornaments and horn caps. The chariot he rode in was pulled by two grand comets with magnificent tails. The colors may have lost some vibrancy with time, but this albino yak’s majesty was still apparent.
I peered at the name of the idol listed below and read them aloud to Sombra.
“Máni was among my favorite of mortal-wrought stories. I cannot say that his name feels fitting for me…” I scratched under my jaw thoughtfully. “‘Tis a character of Yakyakistani breezie tales and would be just as inappropriate if my sister decided to name herself for a solar icon, be it one ponies or other creatures had.”
Sombra glanced down at the illustration, a careful frown tugging at his mouth. “Is there anything else you don’t like about it? I would have a better idea of what to look for.”
“Aside from that… hm, I just feel that this one is ill-suited for me. I cannot see anything of myself in it. I feel that the sound is off, though the gender is certainly right.”
Sombra had a delightedly smug smile in the frown’s place. “I’ll have you know that I accept tips for all my hard work.”
“Oh Som,” I murmured, lighting my horn to scratch him behind one of his ears properly. “What would I ever do without you?”
“Nothing interesting, I’m sure.”
Grabbing the book from him and wielding it with feigned anger only made Sombra’s smirk bigger and its insolence increase exponentially.
…
The stack of scrolls next to me was only growing, both in rows and in size. I had unrolled one and carefully smoothed it out for ideal reading. The feeling of poring over ancient scripts was one of finding home. My eyes could not grow tired from viewing such delights. Fauns bearing lyres and robed war-like minotaurs, each wielding a fierce sarissa in their hands decorated the margins. Olive branches decorated amphorae.
The boldest feature of the Arcadian artifacts was a white faun, her torso clad in a short athletic chitoniskos and an elegant bow was gripped within her paws. The idol’s silvery mane was pulled from her face and into a bun.
Sombra read over my withers. “I take it Artemis won’t work as a name?”
“Nay, ‘tis a largely female one. To call myself such a thing would be foolish indeed.”
I felt Sombra’s muzzle move past my wither to get a better look. Smiling, I let him continue reading from his cozy new spot.
“Siproites could work, couldn’t it?”
I let out a strained little sound somewhere between a hiss and a gasp. “I would think not.”
“Why not?” I felt Sombra’s flicking ear brush against my own. “He’s the colt in the story, isn’t he? That’s not the same as being the idol.”
“Aye, as true as that may be, you ought to read further before saying such a thing.” With a careful gesture of telekinesis, I gave his ears a good, playful flick with my magic.
Shifting himself, Sombra squinted more closely at the story. “He was a colt… who was turned into a filly in order to avoid being struck down by the wary idol.”
“Oh Som,” I said, patting him on the top of his head kindly, “I would rather not have my name be such a curse. The sound is rather fine; the fable attached to it would only burden me with a taunt of all I want to escape.”
In return, I felt Sombra nuzzle my cheek warmly before slipping away, all in order to continue helping me. “We’ll have to keep searching, won’t we?”
I nodded quietly. In my heart, I can feel the thrill of all this searching being pared away by the minute, and falling shred by shred. That was the seventh name we had looked at.
...
I felt my breath come quickly, a knot rapidly forming in my chest as I inhaled. The book resting atop my folded forelegs was an old one, with its spine weathered to sinew threads and scraps. The remains of its leather cover were authentic — a chilling relic of a time when the practice of skin covers was a staple, be they imported from griffons or from other animals, such as moles and shrews. The half-faded calligraphy is still readable to my careful eyes, and there is a single word that jumps out at me, demanding focus.
Why, I felt it lodged in my throat too. ‘Tis like a butterfly, all fuzzy and awkward as it crawls up, threatening to escape me too soon.
“Sombra!” I called instead, trying to keep that feeling from abandoning me. “Come here, and quickly! You must see what I have found!”
One flash of red later and Sombra was standing at my side. His ears were pricked forward and his eyes were bright with alertness. As soon as he caught sight of the book, Sombra bounded over to my side with a few swift, cantering strides.
“Let me see!” Sombra exclaimed, nudging his way over to the table I was seated at.
I levitated the book over to where the pages could be viewed in the luminous glow bathing the archive room. He needn’t even ask for me to do so. I had made the glow of my magic more pronounced over the term of interest, giving it a sparkling highlight.
One thing that I would never stop finding adorable about Sombra — however much he denied the quality — was the precise manner in which he narrowed his eyes to read. There was something delightful in following not just the motion of his eyes, but the subtle movements in his expression. I knew just what part he was at by the slightest shift of his jaw, a twitch of his ear, or tilt of his head.
That was how I knew he was approaching the section I had emphasized — because only Sombra would read the whole page first. Thus, I was fully aware I could surprise him right before he found it.
“Lune,” I said, letting the name take flight. A whole firecracker of joy was unleashing in my chest, warmth, and joyful dizziness washing away all my worry. “‘Tis an old Prancian word for ‘light’, particularly the light of my foremost domain. Not a shred of femininity can ruin that name. Is it not wonderful?”
A dreamy sigh escapes me as soon as I am finished, and my smile is too stubborn to abandon me. I simply can not help myself! The lovely ring to it still buzzes in my ears.
Sombra frowns, and I hone in on the sight immediately. What could provoke such a reaction from him? Even I must admit that this particular frown of his is one he would wear at his most reticent, and I cannot place the emotion.
Oh stars…
“I can’t say that this name has no downside, Lu.”
My muzzle crinkles and I immediately feel a pout threatening to burst.
Lu? Som has never called me such a silly thing before.
“What… downside?” I disliked the way the word tastes upon my tongue, especially when speaking of my own name!
“It’s Prancian,” Sombra said, letting his aura tap upon the weathered pages for emphasis. “Other than that… I see no problem.”
When he saw my harrumph, his unique gloating serpent-smirk returned in full force.
“Did somepony think that I was going to refuse my darling prince a name?”
He kept grinning like he still had the fangs to bare so brilliantly; as a result, I absolutely must pout.
“Sombra, were you not my heart, I would have cast you back to shadows.”
A single dark gray forehoof rested upon his chest with a dazzlingly adorable pompous gesture. Curse him!
“Great gods, what am I to do with the great Prince Lune threatening my splendid existence?”
As I was about to stick my tongue out at him, Sombra decides to surprise me by scooping me up into a kiss. My reciprocation is enough to tell him that he has more than made up for his oh-so-heinous crimes against me.
I could think of no better way to end the long chapter of Luna in my life than usher in a better one: that of Sombra and Lune.
[Revised for print in March 2023]
Credit for the name of "Lune" for a male Luna goes to SPark. It comes from their story Clair de Lune and is by far my favorite pick for a male Luna name.
Another excellently written trans-stallion Luna story is here:
If you enjoyed mine, then I would really recommend these too.
Stats
Page generated in 0.037 seconds
Total duration
1,094 users online
2,096,345 hits today, 2,054,621 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
oh hey, this one hasn't been blown up! (yet?
)
i like this moment
just a quiet bit of eye twitching annoyance at poorly done information recording
awwwww
this oughta be fun
also pff, "the most useless of texts on my domain" is a great sentence
uh oh
this might be more complicated than expected
oops
awww, did he find one??
awww, yay!
I don’t understand the “Prancian” issue. Could someone explain it to me?
11470179
He's just making fun of Horse France for being, well, Horse France. The French and their equivalents are the punchline in many universes.