Metempsychosis

by BlackRoseRaven

What Lies Beneath

Chapter Three: What Lies Beneath
~BlackRoseRaven

Scrivener Blooms and Luna strode side-by-side down the corridor, the walls around them slowly turning from smooth red stone to crudely-stacked black bricks, held together by soil and crumbling gray mortar. This corridor was much longer… and the further they strode down it, the more it transformed, the very atmosphere darkening and deepening even as Luna murmured in Nightmare Moon’s shape, her voice echoing faintly with excitement: “The only path through the nightmare, beloved… is straight through the heart of darkness.”

The male nodded slowly as he looked over his shoulder, gazing at the four ivory winged unicorns that still followed them, the Moon Blessed, the dream fragments… their powerful, almost angelic servants in this twisted world inside their mixed soul. And he couldn’t help but smile to himself before he looked forwards as the walls around them warped further, no longer black brick, but thick soil held up by ancient wooden rafters and netting of ivy and roots, the surfaces pulsing almost as if alive as they strode over a floor that went from tiled stone to corrupted earth, Scrivener shivering a bit as he whispered: “I’m scared of how excited I am, Luna… or shall I call you Nightmare Moon, in this blackened world? But then what does that make me?”

“My husband, my pet, my devil, my monster… does such a thing as a name or title matter, in this dark dreamscape?” Luna asked softly, her eyes glowing as she glanced towards him with a slight smile, then she leaned over and kissed gently beside his jaw, and the male closed his eyes with a quiet breath, arching his back slightly and shivering in pleasure. “All that matters is that we are together, and we push forwards… together.”

Scrivener nodded slowly as they passed through an archway and into an enormous cavern, the male equine gazing back and forth as he licked his lips nervously and eagerly, his eyes betraying both hesitance and anticipation as they looked back and forth: chains and hooks hung from the ceiling, heavy tables, racks, and instruments that could only be meant for inflicting pain stood around the room… and at the very back, a terrible, obsidian statue stood of a draconic, snarling Tyrant Wyrm with glowing eyes, jaws open in an eternal roar, a waterfall of crimson blood and black corruption spilling into a deep basin that stood in front of it that never overflowed and swirled continuously.

Luna smiled slightly, stepping past Scrivener Blooms and tilting her head back as she took a deep breath, then gazed up towards the ceiling and murmured: “Inside thee… is eons of evil, inflicted by the parasite. Corruption that has streamed through thy mind, that thou has fought so hard against… that yet part of thee strives to embrace. For reasons I understand all too well, Scrivener Blooms… as thou has said before, the tortured make the best torturers, and thou has suffered greatly… I understand all too well wishing to return that pain to those who would deserve it.”

Luna lowered her head, gritting her teeth for a moment as her mane sparked and shuddered, floating upwards as she whispered: “And we tainted thee. Nightmare Moon and I dragged thee down into shadow… and yes. I know. Thou had a part of thee… hidden beneath the cynic, the sarcasm, the armor, that was filled with anger and resent and hate. I remember it well, when thou almost killed Bramblethorn… how some days we wish we had allowed thee to. How some days we wish that Nightmare Moon had done worse to the ‘proud’ unicorn… we will never forget the treatment we received in that town, even whilst we worked so hard to save it. We will never forget how much that journey cost…

“Do not be ashamed, Scrivener Blooms. This is not reality, this is only play. Thou art scared… but this is a nightmare, after all. This is our darkest nightmare, because it brings with it the darkest, sickest, most twisted delights for us both… for thee, making those suffer who have hurt thee so badly. Learning to use the evils of the Tyrant Wyrm, coached further by Nightmare Moon… and myself. For me… aye, there may be no honor in this. There may be no good in this. But I am darkness. Thou art darkness. Good intentions are what have helped pave the path to the hell we ended up in…” Luna looked up, speaking in both Nightmare Moon’s voice and her own at once as she murmured: “Let our surging darkness be what brings us to paradise…”

And then she smiled slowly… and Scrivener Blooms licked his lips before he gazed towards the fountain of blood, striding slowly towards it as he bowed his head, knowing what he had to do. Knowing what he had agreed to… knowing what he was even excited to do, as he rose front hoof and warped claw and rested both on either side of the terrible basin before he leaned his head forwards and sipped slowly at the crimson elixir.

Memories not his own, thoughts, visions, knowledge tore through his mind as he gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes shut, body flexing, warping further even as he struggled to allow himself to accept even this tormented part of himself, as he breathed hard in and out before he looked up as an ivory winged unicorn stepped up to either side of him, gently grasping his shoulders… and then slowly, his eyes opened, eyes glowing as he looked over his shoulder towards where Luna was watching with both eagerness and faint sorrow, as he whispered: “Then let us begin.”

Scrivener Blooms and Luna awoke from the nightmare, curled tightly together, breathing hard, bodies pressed tight… and they shuddered a bit before smiling awkwardly at each other as the male flushed deeply, murmuring: “Did… I mean…”

“Well, it all sounded like a good idea at the time, Scrivy. I… I am sorry if I pushed too hard.” Luna blushed a bit, then she looked down at herself… and both she and Scrivener laughed awkwardly as she mumbled: “But it seems we were both perhaps… excited.”

Scrivener blushed deeper: passions had grown intense at one point, even amidst the metal, the bone, the blood, and what they did in the dream world could certainly affect their physical bodies… but Luna only shook her head, blushing herself as she mumbled: “Come, Scrivener Blooms. We should relax in any event, and partake of our softer side now that our… rough edges have been given vent.”

She shuddered a little, and Scrivener awkwardly stood up, tossing the sheets aside as he and Luna carefully made their way out of the bedroom together, both of them looking down, both faintly tinged with shame… but also longing. Also excitement that they could feel in one another’s bodies… and Scrivener laughed weakly before he muttered: “It’s a good thing there’s no one around for me to actually do things to. That’s a very distinct sign of a sociopath or psychopath, you know, and eventually fantasy isn’t enough…”

“There’s always Pinkamena.” Luna hesitated, then stopped in the den, turning around and reaching up to rest her front hooves on his shoulders as he hung his head awkwardly. “It was a nightmare, Scrivy. We call them such because that is what they are: they are the darkest parts of ourselves rising to the surface, that we know better than to give release at any other time but we cannot resist in our deepest, blackest places. They are not a part of us we are proud of… but thou knows that my anger has always been there. My enjoyment of bloodlust… my love of battle; perhaps… in a way, I am almost as warped as Sol Seraph was, yet I hide it better because I, at least, have a conscience.”

“We’re both warped and twisted, Luna… but neither of us is near the level of Sol Seraph, that I can say with certainty.” Scrivener muttered, shaking his head grimly and looking down for a moment, and then he blushed a bit when Luna leaned forwards and kissed his forehead quietly. “You always encourage me. You always accept me. Even though I fear sometimes I am going to become a monster… and I love you for that. Even if this also does go to show that romance really is the scariest thing in the universe, because of what it can make you do for another pony.”

“Fool.” Luna smiled a bit, and then she hesitated again before stepping back. They paused only long enough to glance at the vial on the counter, but Discombobulation seemed to be sleeping with his head just sticking up past the faintly-ripping surface of the Ambrosia. “Well, at least it seems our new tenant sleeps well in his glass sanctuary. ‘Tis funny, we are plagued with such nightmares and yet the beast of Ginnungagap sleeps as placidly as a lamb.”

“Chaos. Besides, we’re both a little… gross right now. Let’s uh. Keep going.” Scrivener nudged her gently, and Luna rolled her eyes with a smile even as she nodded and headed through the kitchen, striding towards the cracked back door of the cabin as the male murmured: “I hate the way our nightmares feel so good, Luna. Afterwards, there’s nothing but shame and sometimes even heartache, but during… sometimes I feel so powerful. It’s cowardly, and it’s shameful, but I do.”

“And so what of it? They are nightmares, that is all. Thou art too… whiny and complacent to do such things in reality.” Luna muttered, and Scrivener smiled as she flicked her horn and the back door flew open, striding out into the small rear yard of their home, which was fenced in by boulders and jutting chunks of rock and shale. “That is why they are the worst nightmares, Scrivy, because they feel good while there, because they prey upon us. Yet all the same… thou art more stable than thou usually are after such… indulgences.”

Scrivener shrugged a little at this as they strode towards the center of the yard, where Luna had years ago shaped a large, rocky bowl that was now filled with faintly-steaming water, an unnatural hot spring in a world that was crazed and unpredictable: some days, they would come out here and find the water and basin completely frozen… other days, it would be like this, kept hot by some strange reaction beneath the warped earth.

Scrivy leaned carefully over the side of the strange hot tub, reaching in and gently swirling a hoof through the water… and he smiled a bit. Hot, but not boiling… and then he winced when Luna shoved him firmly from behind and knocked him sprawling into the water with a splash, coughing and flailing a bit as he sat up with a grimace and then glared over his shoulder at Luna as she grinned widely at him and winked. “’Twas just a boost, my daydreamer, it looked as if thou were having trouble climbing into the tub.”

“Of course, Luna. Of course.” Scrivener said dryly, slipping backwards through the water as it bubbled quietly around his body, feeling the soothing heat working steadily into his frame and muscles and relaxing him even as he flicked his sopping mane out of his eyes, only glad he hadn’t put his glasses back on. “Come on, warrior princess. You’re the dirtier one here.”

“Thou always says that about me, I am always the worse and better one.” Luna complained, and then she huffed and stepped forwards, slipping into the tub herself as her mane sizzled faintly against the water, moisture seeming to run upwards in reverse through her ephemeral locks and tail in shimmering trails as she settled herself into the hot water with a relaxed sigh. “I could always simply cast a short spell to clean ourselves… but this is so much nicer. And ‘tis well deserved… ‘tis nice that even in Hell, there are little pleasures.”

She paused, then slipped through the water until she rested side-by-side with Scrivener Blooms, and the equine smiled as he wrapped a foreleg around her, the two dropping their heads to rest together as she murmured: “We live a strange life together, Scrivy. We know each other’s deepest, darkest secrets… and we exacerbate each other’s best and worst qualities. The atmosphere of this Helheim-flooded, broken world around us works to rile our emotions and passions all the further, makes us stranger, darker, and the taint of Nightmare Moon in me makes part of me cunning and cruel… the corruption of the Tyrant Wyrm in thee exaggerates thy nature into the primal and the violent.

“Yet… would I change it? Nay, I would not.” Luna looked up towards the bleak crimson sky, smiling faintly as she snuggled their sides tighter together in the steaming water. “We have learned so much about each other and ourselves in these past eight years. We have done things I never dreamed were possible… we have shared things I never imagined even mixed souls like ours could share. We have suffered, but it has given what we fight for so much more meaning… had we lived in happiness, were we more normal, we would not be where we are today. And most important of all, for all we have suffered… we work to atone for our sins, we work to prove that our darkness cannot simply be controlled, it can even be used for good… best of all, we have a chance to save and salvage our friends and family.”

She quieted, then buried her face against the side of his neck, closing her eyes and murmuring: “But I have thee, and thou has me. That is what matters most… no matter what goes on otherwise, we are together… we have each other.”

Luna blushed a bit, then smiled when Scrivener kissed her forehead and hugged her tightly around the neck against him, the winged unicorn murmuring: “Oh silence, Scrivy. At least I give voice to my so-called codependency. Besides, we are soul-bound soulmates. And furthermore, thou art just as horrible as I am, filthy evil poet, if not worse, clinging to me as thou does and writing thy silly poems about me when I am right here.”

“Shut up, Luna.” Scrivener replied with a slight smile, and the winged unicorn grinned even as she ground her horn firmly against his features, making him laugh a bit as they rested together in the comfortable heat of the water, both sliding down a bit further with sighs of relaxation before the male added softly: “But I know. Sometimes I feel bad about it, Luna… but I’m happy, as long as I have you. We’ll always have each other, and that thought comforts me in ways I can’t describe… even when I get scared that I’m going to make things… hard for you, or steer you down a bad path.”

“Thou, steer me down a bad path? Silly, ridiculous Scrivener Blooms. ‘Tis I who do all the steering in this relationship.” Luna retorted, and Scrivy snorted and rolled his eyes with entertainment before she headbutted him playfully, making him grunt and wince back a bit as the water quietly splashed around them. “But I am not afraid what will come. Once we are… out of Hell, back with friends and family, back existing in a natural world without the surrounding of all this darkness we have been forced to adapt and adjust and in a way, to even enjoy in order to maintain some sense of rationality and sanity… I believe we will go back to being more like our old selves. Insane, violent, bloodthirsty, aye, but calmer and more placid as well, and without the nightmares that plague thee so, handsome daydreamer.”

“I hope you’re right, Luna.” Scrivy replied softly, gazing over at her with a small smile before he leaned forwards and kissed her cheek quietly. “About the Moon Blessed…”

“Yes, yes, I know, I am greedy, blah-blah-blah.” Luna waved a hoof dismissively, rolling her eyes as she leaned back against him before smiling slightly as he gave her a firm squeeze. “What can I say, Scrivener Blooms? I do not mind the idea of having loyal servants. I would take care of them, I would bless them with the powers I could give. And they would tend to us in return, I see not what is wrong with this. Besides, they are merely figments of the nightmare, the subtle use of lures of passion and adoration… furthermore, they are formed as a mix of our desires, as thou should know from the cries of ecstasy instead of pain they gave when thou… put practice to the skills of the Tyrant Wyrm.”

She smiled quietly, looking down at the water and splashing at it softly as Scrivener blushed, but she only murmured: “Thou art strange, Scrivener Blooms. Thou takes some measure of delight in pain… both to thyself and to others. But thou enjoys it more when thou hurts another and they too pleasure in it. Thou art sick. Are all writers and poets so damaged, so convoluted, so immoral and foul?”

“Only the good ones.” Scrivener smiled despite himself, and Luna laughed and shook her head before she nipped the side of his neck gently, making him twitch, then curl closer to her as she kissed slowly down the nape of his throat. “I just worry about what the corruption of the Tyrant Wyrm said, most of all. That it will become me… that I will become it.”

“And I am Nightmare Moon and she is me, but we are still two distinct and different things, Scrivener Blooms… and thou knows she has added great benefit to our cause, and is a powerful ally.” Luna replied quietly, glancing up at him softly, and Scrivener nodded hesitantly. “Perhaps she is evil. Perhaps she is only dark passion… I care not. It is what we do with our skills and powers and the choices we make that define us… must I constantly remind thee of the very things thou taught me?”

“Apparently.” Scrivener replied mildly, and Luna looked at him for a moment before she grabbed his head with her front hooves and dunked him beneath the water, making him flail and splash wildly before he surfaced with a grumble and blew a stream of water into the winged unicorn’s face, making her wince back and slap at him childishly.

They looked at each other… then both smiled a bit before they once more pressed their sides together, hooves quietly linking beneath the surface of the water as Scrivener bowed his head forwards and asked quietly: “Do you think it’s possible… that somehow, this corruption inside me… might make me…”

“No, thou art both too stubborn and too whiny.” Luna replied gently, but it was strangely soothing as Scrivener laughed a bit despite himself, glancing at her curiously as she softened. “The mental image of thyself is warped and distorted, but it is part of the nightmare, it could be nothing more than mere illusion brought upon by fear. Thou has tasted the darkest of enjoyments now and been fueled by the blackest of pleasures, but I look at thee, Scrivy… and I still see thee. The poet I knew in Canterlot, whom I love so dear and deep. Stubborn, obnoxious, cynical and sarcastic, qualities that in thee are somehow all good.”

Scrivener smiled, leaning forwards and sharing a short, chaste kiss with the winged unicorn before he said softly: “And you’ll always be that same winged unicorn to me. Beautiful, frustrating, impatient and noble beyond words… without your darkness in the world, Luna, or the light of the moon, there would be no beauty, no harmony, no honor.”

“Flatterer.” Luna laughed, then she reached up and quietly touched the black pearl that hung around her neck, gazing down at it for a few moments before she nodded firmly. “Then let us make a deal, Scrivener Blooms. We have spoken enough of corruption, philosophized enough on good and evil, worried too much on these ridiculous subjects that I do not completely comprehend anyway. I am not a thinker, that is thine job: I am a fighter, a warrior, a Valkyrie, and I am now proud to call myself by that noble heritage. So let us promise to no longer worry of such things inordinately. Let us merely enjoy what we can enjoy… remember that good or evil, dark or light, it is the world we strive to honor and protect, it is friends and loved ones and family we fight for. There is too much to do to allow ourselves to mire and stew in deep thoughts, let them work themselves out and let us work instead towards fixing these much greater problems than our petty dramas and silly mental wars that bring us pleasure even in the pain anyway.”

The male nodded firmly in response to this, and then he winced when Luna grabbed him by the shoulders and pinned him backwards, leaning forwards and kissing him firmly for a few moments, his eyes widening before they slipped closed as he returned it slowly… but then the winged unicorn drew quickly back and grinned. “Then our deal is sealed with a kiss, Scrivener Blooms. Thou can bitch and moan and whine and philosophize later, once the world is fixed. ‘Twill be delicious to see the horror on the face of Twilight Sparkle as she wrestles with moral quandaries and lectures us so.”

“Why doesn’t anything phase or bother you, Luna? Why is it that no matter what happens, you find some way to take delight in it?” Scrivener asked dryly, and when Luna gave him an entertained look, Scrivener snorted and splashed her, making her huff. “Hey, we know why I do it. I’m self-destructive and compartmentalize almost everything, and when I’m not joking about something I’m whining about something else.”

Luna rolled her eyes, then splashed him back, beginning to open her mouth… and then both she and Scrivener Blooms looked down as the water ceased to bubble around them, the temperature rapidly dropping before ice slowly started to spread from the other side of the pool, and both ponies winced and scrambled over the edge of the rock tub, Scrivener half-falling on the rocky ground as Luna flapped her wings to sail into the air, mane and tail sparking as they released a hail of droplets before she spun around and dropped to her hooves with a grimace, glowering moodily at the now-frozen tub as she grumbled: “Why must the world work to take away all our nice things, Scrivener Blooms? Are we that hated? Must the gods toy with us so? ‘Tis even worse than stuffy Canterlot. Hell is stuffy.”

“Your face.” Scrivener said grouchily, and Luna gave him a look for a few moments before she firmly shook herself out, sending water droplets cascading over the male and making him wince and flail at her. “You’re not a dog, Luna!”

“And thou art not a beetle, yet it is what thou most reminds me of all the same.” Luna grumbled, and Scrivener sighed, then he winced as she rose her head, her horn glowing a faint blue as she closed her eyes… and a moment later, a hot wind gusted over their bodies, rapidly drying both ponies as Scrivener closed his own eyes with a grumble.

The wind slowed to a halt after a few moments, and the winged unicorn straightened imperiously, nodding once and giving a thoughtful look to Scrivener Blooms. “But as I was about to say, my daydreamer, before we were so rudely interrupted… I simply have worked to take a page from thine own book. ‘Tis no point in staying upset over things… ‘tis far better to push forwards.” She stopped, then smiled a bit, adding quietly: “I remember too, how my brother Sleipnir… would always laugh off the worst of burdens and pains. Even when he died… he laughed, and wished us well, even snared in the jaws of terrible Fenrir as he brought down the mountains upon the skulking monstrosity.”

She looked down thoughtfully, then rubbed absently at the underside of her jaw and nodded once as she smiled across at Scrivener, who gazed back at her softly. “Yes, I can think of nothing better to be, Scrivener Blooms, then a laughing, honorable fool like my brother was. Thou art the second best thing to that, a sarcastic, blissfully-cynical idiot scribe.”

“Thanks Luna, that just warms my heart to hear.” Scrivener replied dryly, and Luna laughed and shook her head before she turned and strode towards the door, the male automatically falling in step behind her as he smiled slightly. “So what are our plans for the rest of the day, in that case?”

“What plans, Scrivener Blooms? We have earned a break for at least a few more hours.” Luna replied with a shrug, striding in through the open door, and Scrivy nodded after a moment as he kicked it closed behind him. “I wish to gather food and supplies at some point during the week, doing one last scavenge of Ponyville… or perhaps even of Canterlot. It may also be wise to stop by Zecora’s hut… it is protected by powerful magic and it seems that every time we return there, we find the shelves restocked with what we need, even if there has been not a single hoof-print to speak of the shaman’s presence.”

Scrivy nodded slowly, saying quietly: “But we saw those strange ghosts around there, too. Shadows… like Pales, but dark as night, faster, much more… connected to the world. The last time we tried to chase them, they easily outmaneuvered us…”

“Aye, because I did not expect the specters to be so wily.” Luna said sulkily, striding through the kitchen, and Scrivener smiled despite himself as he headed instead towards the coffeemaker. “I sense they are harmless to us. Just. Irksomely quick. But it means nothing.”

“You’re as bad about winning as Rainbow Dash ever was.” Scrivener said mildly, and Luna grumbled as she turned around and leaned down to study the glass vial, as Discombobulation laid sprawled on top of the liquid, looking bored and pouty as he floated in a slow circle and pointedly ignored her.

She leaned closer, then shook her head and turned around before wincing as she was faced with the Pale of Pinkamena, the half-demon spirit studying her moodily before she cocked her head curiously, and Luna rolled her eyes, knowing all too well what the specter was interested in. “No, Pinkamena, I shall not divulge the nightmare to thee at this point and time. Scrivener Blooms and I have an agreement in place… if we do speak of such things, ‘twill be lighthearted from now on, and we shall not muse and ramble upon it. Sick creature, go down to Helheim if thou wishes to dance amidst the pain of others.”

Scrivener turned around, heading into the den and glancing towards the ghost, and Pinkamena rolled her eyes before she grinned at Scrivy and then jumped up on her rear hooves, doing a short, awkward little jig that made the earth pony snort laughter. Luna sighed at this, but smiled all the same herself, saying dryly: “It never ceases to amaze how death has made thee so much more agreeable than any beating ever could in life, among everything else.”

Pinkamena dropped back down to all fours, then she shrugged moodily before grinning widely as Scrivy began to walk by, and she pretended to cozy up beside him, immediately making Luna glower. Scrivener looked dumbly at the winged unicorn for a moment, then he winced and shrank his head back as her horn glowed faintly, half-covering his face with a hoof. “What did I do?”

“’Tis not thee, ‘tis the grabby ghost seeking to antagonize me once again.” Luna grumbled, and Scrivener glanced towards Pinkamena… but the Pale only laughed silently as she leapt into the air and floated across the room, grinning mockingly as she twisted upside down before vanishing from sight. “Foul half-demon. ‘Twould not bother me half as much if I thought the creature was actually fond of thee. Or at least had a body.”

“This is what I love most about you, Luna. You don’t get jealous of physical things, but I’m definitely not allowed to date ghosts.” Scrivener said dryly, and Luna looked at him for a few moments as he strode towards her and flopped down on the bedding across from her… and then a grin spread over her face before they both laughed and leaned forwards, nuzzling each other and gently pressing their faces together.

They settled after a few moments, drawing back and apart, and Luna gave him an entertained look as she said kindly: “Incorrigible poet. Perhaps ‘tis strange, admittedly, but… I do become jealous at times, and protective at others. Thou art mine… my husband, my soulmate… my best friend. The titles… have never been important to me, though, the love is what is important to me: I am no more and no less yours now than I was before we were married, I like to think. I like to think that even then, long before we were tethered in soul… we still shared… this. This thing between us that… goes so deep. And I guard it jealously, as I know thou does, too.”

She stopped and smiled a bit, leaning forwards and murmuring: “Aye, so is it so strange? I know well that physical affections cannot threaten what lays between us. Thou could sleep with a thousand ponies and ‘twould not harm that bond of souls, not one of them would be able to breach that first layer of thine insufferable armor of sarcasm and foiling cynicism… although, by the way, if thou did sleep with a thousand ponies, I would pummel thee senseless a thousand times for a thousand days, and would be quite frustrated with thee.”

“Only if I didn’t invite you along.” Scrivener said mildly, and Luna grinned deviously at him, making the male laugh and wave a hoof. “Stop switching sides of the argument! Go back to being jealous and clingy.”

“I can do both.” Luna retorted, tilting her head upwards imperiously. “Thou art only jealous of my superiority. But as I was saying then… I know that the physical cannot harm what is between us. If it could, my constant pummeling of thee long would have left bruises not just upon our bodies, but upon that bond as well, for I can be…”

“Enthusiastic.” Scrivener supplied, and Luna looked pleased at this word choice, nodding thoughtfully as her starry mane sparkled and swayed backwards.

“Excellent! Enthusiastic, yes… ‘tis a good word for me.” Luna smiled slightly, leaning forwards and tapping Scrivy with her horn once, making the male roll his eyes in amusement. “Nay, I am not wary of the physical. But those who connect emotionally I can be… perhaps… a tad bit suspicious of. ‘Tis not like Twilight Sparkle… we both cared for her very deeply, as she did for us. She was a great friend, always there, always beside us…” Luna closed her eyes, her smile softening, her head bowing forwards before she shook it briskly and added ruefully: “Pinkamena, on the other hand, is a predatory hunter. And all too often I look at her and think that she has chosen thee specifically as her prey.”

Scrivener only snorted in amusement at this, shaking his head and saying mildly: “She hangs out with both of us, Luna. She’s just trying to frustrate you, and admittedly, she does a very good job of that. But don’t worry. I’m not going to date the ghost of the half-devil that lives in our house.”

Luna rolled her eyes at this even as Scrivy began to climb to his hooves, but she promptly hopped up to her own, reaching out and grabbing the back of his head to shove his face firmly down into the bedding. “Oh how reassuring thou art, poet. Stay there, I shall fetch the coffee. Although I swear thou must exist merely to test my patience at times, beetle.”

The earth pony grunted at this as he rose his head from the bedding, settling himself down and glancing towards the empty fireplace… and then he glanced up curiously at the sound of a rattle, craning his head over his shoulder to peer at the vial Discombobulation was in as it bounced again. Luna ignored this pointedly as she dug through their cupboards for mugs and sugar, so Scrivy rolled his eyes as he climbed to his hooves and headed to the counter, leaning down to peer curiously at the tiny Draconequus as he hammered against the glass wall of his prison.

Scrivy winced after a moment as he caught a spark of a strange, alien shape, and then he shook his head briskly, forcing himself to focus and calm as he returned his eyes to Discombobulation and he frowned a bit as the chimerical creature scrawled a quick message across the glass of the bottle in what looked almost like red lipstick. He frowned a bit at this, then leaned down, muttering to himself as he made out the shapes of the letters… before nodding and grimacing. “I think we might have intruders. Bob says he smells ‘roast pig.’”

“And nothing burns better than Helheim’s ice, as I believe the creature once said.” Luna glanced up with a frown, looking over her shoulder at Scrivener as the male smiled to her, and she sighed a bit even as her horn glowed, holding the carafe of dark liquid in the air beside her. “Alright, Scrivener Blooms. Thou may go and check… alert me if they are a hostile war band. But as thou knows, if they are only drudging past… there is no point in picking a quarrel with the creatures. Now that the Nibelung have been oh-so-successful in helping to conquer Midgard, they seem to have realized that they once more are on the bottom of the food chain, after all… ‘tis too bad, Discombobulation, but the dwarves are not so much our enemies as they once more. Now, like us, they too simply seek to try and escape Helheim’s festering disease.”

The Draconequus wiped the lipstick message off the glass as he frowned curiously up at this, but Scrivy only shrugged a bit, saying quietly: “We’ll fill you in on all the details later if you have the strength. I’ll be back in a minute or two then, Luna… try not to burn down the cottage or anything, huh?”

“Hilarious, Scrivener Blooms. Worry not, I shall prepare thy pretty and frilly apron so thou may do thy housewife’s work when thou returns.” Luna deadpanned, and Scrivener opened his mouth dumbly as he struggled for a retort, before grumbling and turning around, Luna grinning and looking pleased with herself as the male headed for the front door.

He pushed his way outside, becoming more serious as he shut the door carefully behind himself, gazing back and forth over the rocky tundra that lay in front of their home… but amidst the few dead trees, he couldn’t see any trace of Nibelung nearby. As a being of Ginnungagap, Discombobulation was sensitive to the presence of those affected by Helheim’s energies, however… and the earth pony shook his head, murmuring: “Better check a little ways ahead… see what there is to see.”

The male nodded to himself, then he carefully made his way forwards, over the rickety bridge that lay over a shallow trench in which had once flowed a beautiful creek, and Scrivy winced a bit as he looked down and for a moment saw green grass, beautiful flowers, flowing, crystalline water and the bridge in perfect, repaired condition before he looked up… and breathed sharply at the sight of a light blue unicorn that smiled at him sadly from beneath a purple cloak, matching, tall hat pushed back on her head to reveal her horn. Then she faded away with the other sights, nothing but illusion of memory… and Scrivener took a slow breath before he continued quietly onto the path, murmuring: “Don’t be useless now, Scrivy. Twenty feet away from your own damn house and already almost lost… you’d never hear the end of that from Luna.”

He walked quietly down a wide path of rock and dirt, gazing back and forth slowly as his hooves crunched softly against the gravel… then his eyes sharpened and he frowned a bit, slipping quietly behind a tree and peering carefully out to watch as several Nibelung prowled by ahead, his gaze sharpening as he studied the creatures.

They were lanky, walking heavily on large paws and carrying weapons in dexterous hands, with greasy black fur covering their squat bodies and features that were a mishmash of wolf and pig: long tusks extended from winkled, short muzzles in faces that were otherwise lupine, and short, bristly tails flicked back and forth behind them as the three marched onwards.

The leader’s eyes glowed terrible crimson, clad in dented battle armor and carrying a heavy axe in one hand… but the other two Nibelung were whimpering as they followed along, smaller, their eyes not glowing but terrified dark irises that flicked back and forth apprehensively. One had his arm bandaged heavily in an ugly sling, the other was half-helping his ally along… and then the head Nibelung stopped and sniffed the air, Scrivener ducking back behind the tree before the Helheim-corrupted dwarf snarled: “I smell you, creature! I smell pony! We hungry, pony, come and fight!”

The other Nibelung, however, only whimpered again before the bandaged one pleaded: “No boss, we join up with war band first… we need to find war band before we go fight-hunting! We can no back you like this… we wounded!”

The corrupted wolf-pig snarled… but then he sulkily nodded as Scrivener slowly leaned out from behind the tree, watching apprehensively as the dwarf pig glared back and forth before muttering: “Fine. You hear pony-pony? You lucky! Or maybe you not so much… maybe better to die at Nibelung blade than live in Hell…”

The Nibelung dropped its head forwards, slouching and muttering as it began to lead the others onwards… and Scrivener Blooms sighed softly in relief, rubbing slowly at his features before he frowned a bit as he heard a quiet crackling, looking back and forth before a shape moved in the distance, hurrying past a large, rocky outcrop.

Scrivener frowned a bit, hesitated… and then sighed, muttering and dropping his head forwards as he slowly began to walk towards this, guided by curiosity more than anything else as he grumbled: “This is sure to end fantastically after all… I’m going to blame Luna for this if anything goes wrong, I was a far bigger coward before we tied our souls together.”

He glanced for a moment towards the direction the Nibelung had gone in, but the trio was thankfully hurrying onwards, moving vaguely in the direction of where Ponyville had once stood… and then Scrivener returned his eyes to the outcropping of rocks, noting the rotten, warped tree that stood to one side of it and studying the geography moodily as he made his way forwards… then halted and stared as a head poked hesitantly around the corner for a moment before wincing and quickly pulling back.

The earth pony jogged forwards, smiling a bit now even as he kept his pace careful, hearing rustling on the other side of the mound before he carefully halted at the corner and apprehensively leaned around it, not exactly wanting to get an arrow or anything else to the eye… but the figures were curled up at the far corner of a hidden, small campsite, and Scrivener sighed in relief as he carefully stepped out into view even as the ponies trembled and stared at him, one of them whispering: “Oh no, I… no, no, p-p-please…”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Scrivy said softly, keeping his voice gentle as he lowered his head, careful not to move forwards as he looked back and forth: the rocky mound formed a wall on one side, and the campsite was recessed into the earth, leaving it protected on the others by walls of shale and soil and twisted brambles. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The three ponies looked at him apprehensively: they were filthy with dirt and bruises, features sallow from trying to survive out in the desolate world. Scrivener felt an ache in his heart to gaze over them: two stood, and the last was curled on the ground as if expecting to be beaten, wrapped in a blanket, gaunt and sallow…

Carefully, Scrivener stepped forwards… and the ponies trembled, but the male smiled awkwardly before he took another pace and sat down, just inside their campsite, saying quietly: “My name is Scrivener Blooms. My wife and I live in a cabin not far from here. What are your names?”

“I… I barely even remember anymore…” One of the ponies laughed weakly, his mane ragged and tattered, his eyes losing some of their nervousness as the mare standing beside him smiled in a faint, sorrowful way as she bowed her head forwards, closing her eyes. “It’s been so long since… we’ve seen anypony out here. Those awful monsters… they destroyed everything, and I still… I still can’t believe it… I can’t believe for this long, we’ve been out here…”

“We’ve… been so cold. So lonely.” whispered the mare, shivering and shaking her head, and faint trails of tears spilled from her eyes as the pony on the ground closed his own tightly and slowly lowered his head to the ground, as if the simple act of raising it had been enough to exhaust him. “Those… Nibelung… they hunted us, like sport… like trophies, until… until they realized they were being hunted, too, by the dragons that have adapted to the environment and the other monsters… and the skeletons… they try and… they took our friend, dragged her off to do… Horses of Heaven know what to her…”

Scrivener nodded slowly, lowering his head before he gazed quietly down at the weakened pony, sensing Luna’s presence now: she had caught his emotions, caught his thoughts, and was making her way quickly towards them. “What about you, can you stand? If you’re injured, my wife will help you. She’s Luna, the former Champion of Equestria… I know that name is associated with… certain bad things, but-”

But the mare only laughed weakly, shaking her head and whispering: “Equestria… I’d almost forgotten that this was once a country. And Luna… her sister… was Queen, right? But I don’t remember her sister’s name…”

“It was Celestia. That name I remember, at least… we revered her, but she couldn’t stop this.” murmured the pony on the ground, and then he slowly rose his head before he shivered as he carefully began to push himself to his hooves… and Scrivener grimaced as he realized the male was missing one of his hind legs, as the blankets fell away from him. “I think… I think I can manage…”

Scrivener began to step forwards… and then he glanced up as a shadow passed over them before Luna shot down towards the ground and landed easily, turning around… and she looked with surprise at the ponies that immediately turned to silent sympathy. But it was for the wrong reasons, as her eyes slid to Scrivy, who frowned a bit as he caught her emotions and thoughts… before she closed her eyes and reached a hoof up to touch his shoulder gently. “Look again, Scrivener Blooms.”

Scrivy did so, gazing ahead… and then he blanched and stumbled backwards in shock, staring at the ponies as they looked silently back through cataract eyes and empty sockets, their skin peeling from their mummified corpses, bodies blackened with rot and age. They were Haunts… and Scrivener shivered a bit and closed his eyes tightly before he slowly bowed forwards, touching his forehead to the ground as he whispered: “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… to mock you, to offer you… what I cannot give after all. I can’t help you… not even Luna can help you. Please open your eyes, and don’t… be afraid. I’m… I’m sorry.”

Scrivy slowly straightened, shaken more than he wanted to admit as he breathed hard in and out, and when he gazed over them, they flickered: he saw the Haunts, and then he saw the weakened ponies, looking at him with begging eyes, one of them raising a hoof as it whispered: “W-Wait, don’t go… we don’t understand…”

“Come, husband. I am sorry, but there is nothing we can do for thee… thou must look at thyselves, and accept… what has come to pass. I bless all of thee, in the moon’s name, in Valhalla’s honor and mercy.” Luna murmured, as Scrivener turned around… and then the two ponies silently left the campsite of the dead, as the Haunts stared pleadingly after them.

The winged unicorn and earth pony strode in silence, the male’s head hanging a bit as Luna gazed at him compassionately, and as they began to cross over the dried-up creek, he sighed and shook his head, saying finally: “I hate this, Luna. I look too long at the living, and I see… the shapes, ‘beneath the masks’ or ‘through the mirror,’ like Pinkamena says in that sickeningly-excited way of hers. And I look at Velites and Haunts and Pales and I see who they were in life… Horses of Heaven, this is the most useless, maddening ability ever to exist. No wonder Pinkamena was always such a pain in the flank.”

“I know husband, thou says it often.” Luna said quietly, as they halted in front of their home… and then she smiled faintly, adding softly: “But perhaps in reality nothing has really changed. Thou has always been… strange, after all, and always gifted with a talent to look beyond the physical, the outside.”

She smiled a bit, glancing over at him as Scrivener sat down, laughing a little as thoughts and images swirled between them, before she continued softly: “I remember when thou insisted on sparing the life of a Phooka. ‘Twas the strangest of mercies… and yet, I still respect it even now. Thou has… thou has an inordinate, unnatural affection for darkness and monsters. But without it, thou wouldst not be who thou are: and I fear… I would not be so beloved by thee.”

Luna blushed a bit, shuffling a hoof almost shyly against the ground as he glanced down, and Scrivener smiled faintly as he slipped closer towards her, wrapping a foreleg around her and dropping his head to press his face quietly against the side of hers, her mane wafting gently over and against him as he murmured: “I love you for more than your darkness, Luna. I love you for your mind, your soul, and the hope you bring to me, even in literal Hell… for the fact that you accept me, and do so goddamn much for me.” He paused, then smiled a bit wider, eyes closed as he added meditatively: “And you’re pretty damn hot, too. Not to mention how much I enjoy you beating everything up. The important things in life, you know?”

“Truly, Scrivener Blooms, thou art a sophisticated and refined pony.” Luna replied dryly, but she looked entertained all the same even as she headbutted him playfully. “But I am glad thou art so fond of my most esteemed, virtuous qualities.”

Scrivy rolled his eyes as he leaned away, looking entertained as Luna stood up and flicked her horn, the door to their home swinging open as she added musingly: “’Tis remarkable, though, fair beetle. Thou speaks so highly of my body but rarely ogles it. I am almost offended by this, thou should understand.”

“Luna, I’ll never understand how you can both encourage and set back mares’ rights at the exact same time.” Scrivener said mildly as he followed the winged unicorn inside, shutting the door behind him… and then he winced when Luna pinned him back against the door, a mischievous glint in her eye as he looked at her awkwardly.

“Be not silly, Scrivener Blooms, we are in Hell. Not mare nor stallion, filly nor colt have any rights here.” Luna replied, half-lidding her irises, and Scrivy gave a dumb giggle when she kissed the side of his neck before she spun back around, looking pleased with herself as she said kindly: “Now come and join me for coffee, husband.”

The winged unicorn walked with a little more bounce in her step as she strode back towards the kitchen… then sighed and rolled her eyes when she found the Pale of Pinkamena chewing slowly at the cork of the bottle, her hooves on either side of the vial before the spirit looked moodily up as Luna said dryly: “It is not a chew-toy, Pinkamena, and neither is Bob. At least not at the moment. Leave the Draconequus alone.”

Pinkamena grumbled silently as the winged unicorn strode past to the counter, her horn glowing and lifting the two steaming mugs of coffee she had left out with telekinesis, pleased to find they were still hot… and then she sighed as she turned around and the Pale gave her a wide grin, standing purposefully in her way. Luna, however, only stormed forwards, making the spirit flicker in and out of reality even as the winged unicorn felt a distinct chill pass through her body, muttering: “I will trample thee one of these days, ghost or not.”

She flopped down on the bedding beside Scrivener, the male shifting a bit so that Luna could lay against him as the mugs of coffee floated down in front of the two before she flicked her horn at the fireplace, and sapphire flames burst into life, glowing over the logs as she murmured: “Funny, how little our days and nights have changed from that time we spent in exile together, even now… but I enjoy it. Yet is it really so strange? I imagine in even deep Helheim, not every day must be spent in the monotony of torture… demons, too, must get bored or tired or perhaps even simply lazy, must they not? I am only glad we have not had to test the theory overmuch, even if I do admit to enjoying the challenge of engaging such ruthless and powerful foes.”

“But like the tides, they’ve receded from the world over the last few years… we know the location of the ‘hives,’ as you call them, the demonic colonies… but we also know that a lot of them have fled back into Helheim.” Scrivener shook his head as he picked up his coffee, sipping slowly at it as he looked thoughtfully down at the black liquid before a smile quirked his mouth as he glanced towards Luna. “Admittedly, the subject fascinates me, as I know we’ve talked about a lot. But they have a culture, a civilization almost. It makes sense when you think about it but at the same time… it’s more terrifying than thinking of them as just monsters that like to maim and kill and hurt ponies.”

Luna nodded slowly, her mane wafting backwards as Pinkamena strode over and dropped herself down on Scrivy’s other side, the Pale looking at them intently… but now, the winged unicorn only smiled softly, and Scrivener glanced over his shoulder before he laughed awkwardly at the sight of the spirit. “Didn’t you actually end up in Helheim for a little while? Why do you always look at us like that when the subject comes up but never say anything, you’re the half-demon here. Luna’s the Valkyrie and I’m just the psychopath.” He paused, then looked meditative at this, rubbing at the scarred side of his face slowly. “Huh. I’m the one always rambling about it and yet I’m the least qualified of all to talk on the subject.”

“Oh silence, thou has access to my memories and experiences.” Luna shoved him firmly with one hoof, giving him an entertained look. “Besides, ‘tis not as if thou has no experience with demons and their kin now. I remember well that succubus of a few years back, Scrivener Blooms.”

“Gee, Luna, thank you for bringing that up, that’s something I really want to remember.” Scrivener said dryly, looking at her pointedly, but when Luna only grinned and leaned towards him, he sighed and rolled his eyes. “So what, it took on the form of Twilight Sparkle and tried to seduce me. So did that Nightmare years and years ago. We all know that neither of those things worked out.”

“Thou thinks her flank is better than mine, doesn’t thou? Admit it, thou art as foul a lech as Odin.” Luna said seriously, nodding and wiggling her rump, and Scrivener dropped his head forwards against the bedding before the winged unicorn laughed and rubbed a hoof along his back gently. “I shall never forget the hilarity that ensued as thou headbutted the creature and then chased it angrily around until it fled.”

Scrivener grumbled, saying grouchily: “Well, it was… annoying.” He cleared his throat lamely, then added dryly: “Besides, we already have a rather uh… active and healthy amount of intimacy between us.”

“I enjoy how even when thou phrases things so politely it sounds as if thou art complaining.” Luna remarked, and Scrivener gave her an amused look from the bedding before he rose his head and winced when she ruffled his mane teasingly. “Thou art like a sulky but cute foal that cannot phrase its words properly. Adorable even when thou whines.”

“I have a lot of words for you too, Luna, but if I say them, you’ll pummel me.” Scrivener replied dryly, and then he winced when Pinkamena rudely shoved a hoof against him: although it simply passed through his body in her mostly-ethereal state, he still felt a twinge of cold and a distinct, odd pressure, giving her a flat look as she looked at him pointedly. “What?”

She glared at him, and the earth pony winced back a bit even as she seemed to solidify in his vision, as distinct and real as Luna as she mouthed several words… and Scrivener groaned as he threw his head back before he looked sourly over at the winged unicorn. “She’s being cranky. Can we please kick her out?”

“Oh, be kind, Scrivener Blooms.” Luna said kindly, looking at him with entertainment. “Even Pales need to rest every now and then in the intangible ether… and Pinkamena is not merely a natural Pale, but also a half-demon. And if we do not permit her to feed she will grow crankier, and perhaps even fade away to nothingness in time… and then how shall I take a terrible vengeance upon her in the Looking Glass World? Permit her to feed a little.”

Scrivener muttered under his breath at this, then he nodded grouchily and sighed, saying dryly: “I love how we’re opposites on this subject. Normally it’s ‘Pinkamena is bad, stay away from my Scrivy,’ but then you’re all doting and maternal over her when she starts grumpily asking for a snack.”

The Pale of Pinkamena glanced up thoughtfully at this, then grinned, and Luna only rolled her eyes, grumbling under her breath as she said distastefully: “Well, ‘tis no worse than thou, grand hypocrite. ‘Oh we must be nicer and kinder’ but when she is actually in need ‘thou art wicked and I am a grand coward.’”

The male glowered at her, then he grumbled under his breath as the winged unicorn added: “Besides, Nightmare Moon is not fond at all of permitting the creature’s presence inside my mind. She is also dangerously protective of thou, too, but at least in thy mind, Pinkamena is to a point… protected by the very corruption that makes thee suffer, Scrivy.”

She softened, and Scrivener smiled a bit before he sighed when Pinkamena waved a hoof through his body again, turning his gaze towards her and saying flatly: “Go ahead. But I swear you’re on your way to becoming a full demon.”

Pinkamena only grinned in response, then she burst apart into dark smoke that flooded over Scrivener, making him wince as he felt her sliding sinuously through his mind, cozying herself into his brain and beginning to extract recent memories, pieces of nightmare, to stroke along parts of his tortured psyche as she whispered teasingly: Well then at least you’ll have a study-buddy, won’t you? Besides, I can think of worse things to be… like a big wuss who keeps denying who he really is…

Scrivener grimaced a bit, and then Luna looked at him flatly before she closed her eyes, her horn giving a faint spark before her voice said calmly and clearly into Scrivener’s mind: Forget not I can hear thee too, Pinkamena. Or does thou wish to add to the pummeling I shall surely be giving thee after all is said and done and we are safely in the next world?

The half-demon only laughed in Scrivener’s mind, however, and for a moment, the male caught a distinct image: Pinkamena, grinning as she lounged in a cot in a messy room filled with books, stacked papers, and half-completed models. It was gone as suddenly as it came, and Scrivy made a face as he tilted his head to the side, a tingling sensation spilling through his mind. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, and it helped numb and soothe his mind even as he felt Pinkamena dragging her hooves through his remembrances of nightmares, sampling them like they were fine wine, numbing his conscious mind even as she fed off the negative and positive emotions they brought up.

Luna looked at him sympathetically, and with honest apology in her eyes, but Scrivy only smiled a little, shaking his head and murmuring: “It’s okay. It’s a little strange, certainly, but I’m used to this by now… remember when we first figured this out, after she tried to possess me out of frustration?”

“Aye, I do. We have strange allies, Scrivener Blooms.” Luna glanced over her shoulder towards the vial that Discombobulation was soaking in, but the Draconequus was still quiet and had written no other messages for them, and Luna smiled despite herself. “I am glad for it, though. Variety, ‘tis the spice of life, is it not? And we are misfits ourselves… I like their company, I truly do. Much as I do wish to beat Pinkamena some days and as frustrating as I remember Bob being, but they grew quickly on me.”

Scrivener nodded after a moment, absently rubbing at his head, but the sensation of having the half-demon nibbling at his psyche was fading into the background thrum of his thoughts. “I know what you mean. I guess… she reminds me of myself in some ways. You know, the self-destructiveness and morbid self-loathing hidden under the layers of armor and defenses. Except hers are pointier than mine.”

Luna gave him an amused look at this, shaking her head and leaning forwards to kiss him quietly, and the male kissed her slowly back for a few long moments before she drew apart and murmured softly: “Frustrating poet. Thou drives me mad, and I enjoy it.”

The two smiled at each other… then they both gazed quietly towards the fire, and Luna couldn’t help but laugh softly as she murmured: “Funny. Thou has a half-demon currently in thy head, and the corruption of the Tyrant Wyrm… and I have Nightmare Moon inside of me, esurient manifestation of passion and shadow. We are soul-bound, like one entity, and the same blood runs in our veins… even though the corruption of the Wyrm does sometimes try and harry our mental link, making thoughts… static-riddled, distorted, when thy emotions get too high.”

Scrivener smiled awkwardly, and then they leaned towards one-another, quietly nuzzling each other as Luna murmured softly: “But yet, we exist together. I shall never, ever let us exist apart, either, Scrivener Blooms… not even if we could. Aye, we live the impossible romance. We live a life I never thought possible… thou art my beetle.”

“And you’re my Valkyrie.” Scrivener replied softly, and the two shared a soft laugh before they both gazed towards the fire again, even as they slipped closer side-by-side, smiling softly as they relaxed in one another’s comforting and welcome company.

Comments

[Sidetrack]

“Your face.” Scrivener said grouchily, and Luna gave him a look for a few moments before she firmly shook herself out, sending water droplets cascading over the male and making him wince and flail at her. “You’re not a dog, Luna!”

Combine the insult and comment and just say "Don't be a bitch!"

[-Brutus]

I love this series so much.