Fine Steps

by TwilightSnarkle

Intermezzo I

The stony, starlit field was calm, and quiet, and strangely dusty. Strange in that the dust was only present when she thought of it—imagining rough grit against her hoof or a shimmering whorl in an errant moonbeam made it appear just so—and vanished once attention faded.

Similarly, other features flickered in and out of existence, or changed shape or color, or swapped places with others when she looked away. Yet, when she looked back, she always knew what would be where.

She stepped through a favorite arbor from the Twilight Gardens and breathed in the heady scent of a warm night after the rain. A moment’s concentration turned the rock-strewn terrain into bowers, arches, and trellises of every sort of growing thing.

There were no surprises here save what Luna brought with her.

As if summoned, a giggle erupted from behind a trellis of moonflowers, which shivered a moment before melting away into into a swarm of faintly glowing moths. Where flowers once adorned the landscape sat a little blue filly, oblivious to it all. She patiently plaited a dozen long-stemmed moonflowers into a silvery-white crown, then levitated it atop her own head.

A rueful smile flashed across Luna’s muzzle, then faded. But those surprises, she thought, were more than enough.

“Snowdrop,” Luna chided. “It is not time to play. Not tonight. We have much to do.”

The precocious creature stuck out her bottom lip and dropped her shoulders into a well-tuned slump. For most adults, it evoked pity. She held the position for the barest moment before glancing up at the princess.

The princess, in reply, regarded her charge with an arched brow and an unreadable expression. One by one, the stars winked out.

Snowdrop sighed, then mumbled, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” Luna chimed, and the stars returned to their prominence. The crescent moon, high in the sky, gained a halo.

Snowdrop marveled at the display, then declared, “Daddy says that the halos around the moon are caused by ice in the sky.”

“Mm,” Luna replied. “That may be, in Equestria. But we are not in Equestria, are we?”

“We aren’t?” Snowdrop looked about, walking in a small circle as she glanced at the flowers, and the stars, and the stones at her hooves. “It looks like Equestria.”

“It does, yes. In Equestria, though, you are snugly wrapped in your blankets. Your father has just finished your story, turned down your light and cleared away your glass of water.”

“I…” Snowdrop blinked. “I’m dreaming?” Her lower lip trembled, and she dropped unceremoniously onto her rump. Her crown slipped from its rightful place and hung precariously over one eye.

The garden faded, and a forest clearing took its place. A thick carpet of grass sprung into being, and atop it sat a checkered blanket and an overstuffed basket. Between Snowdrop and the picnic, Luna stepped closer, leaned down, and nuzzled the filly. “You are, but not like you’re used to.”

Snowdrop’s pout returned in force, and she folded her forelimbs across her chest. “So you’re not here.”

“But I am. Since I must watch the night, and usually sleep when you are awake, I thought it would suit us both if I met with you in dreams.”

Snowdrop thought about this in silence. In the shadowed boughs above, a wood owl hooted once. Luna waited patiently.

Finally, Snowdrop stood, her brow still creased with thought. “Princess Luna?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“Do you have any sandwiches in the basket?”

---

“Just this way, Snowdrop,” Luna soothed. “Just a bit further.”

The wooded glens and flowered gardens were long departed, and the pair of ponies stepped cautiously around loose stones and thorny weeds as they ascended a narrow path. A few puffball clouds scuttled by, but the moon’s light was not hindered, and gave them a clear view of their route.

Snowdrop peered ahead. She saw that atop the next rise there appeared to be a stone platform. Large boulders had been stacked before it and carved into the semblance of steps. “Is that where we’re going, Princess Luna?”

Luna paused, looking over her shoulder at her charge. “Yes, it is. We don’t have long now.” Her eyebrows rose slightly. “You aren’t tired, are you?”

“No, ma’am,” Snowdrop replied, shaking her head. “I’m not tired.” She glanced about, then asked, “Are you sure we’re in a dream?”

“Yes, my dear,” Luna replied with a nod, then turned about to face Snowdrop fully. “Quite sure.”

Snowdrop stepped closer, looking left, and then right. “How do you know? Or… how…” She fell silent.

“How do you know?” offered Luna.

Snowdrop nodded. “Yes’m.”

Luna peered at the tiny unicorn. The flower crown took that moment to slide forward, drooping itself over the filly’s muzzle.

“Take a look at your crown.”

Snowdrop pulled the flower crown off her head. Despite what seemed like hours of walking, every blossom was as bright and vibrant as if freshly picked.

“The flowers are still pretty,” she marveled in a whisper.

“Mm,” Luna murmured noncommittally. She took a seat in the path. “Snowdrop, can you imagine what your namesake looks like?”

“Namesake?” She looked up from her flowers. “You mean what my name means?”

“Yes,” Luna replied. “Have you seen a snowdrop?”

“Yes, ma’am. They grow in the hills near the Split-Spear Pass.”

“Describe one to me,” she directed, her stare intensifying.

Snowdrop recoiled, then took a step back. “Well…” she began, then shivered. Luna smiled, the strength of her gaze softening to observation.

“Uh… there’s pretty green grass, and some of the grass is tall and it bends over, and then at the end of bent-over grass there’s a little white flower that looks like it’s drooping.”

“Very good! Can you picture in your mind what they look like?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Now imagine your crown is snowdrops, and not moonflowers. Tell yourself that, no matter what they were before, they are now snowdrops.”

“...okay.”

Snowdrop’s face contorted as she squeezed her eyes shut. A moment passed, then two. A rustle in the distance heralded a breeze which flowed about the filly, scattering the dried leaves at her hooves. She shivered, then opened one cautious eye.

“Aww…” she whined.

The crown’s greens and whites were as brilliant as when she began, but its dimensions were askew. Each moonflower—and moonflowers they still were—hung, miniaturized, from a slender grass-like stem.

“That’s very good, Snowdrop.” Luna smiled gently and, with a brief shimmer, brought the crown closer for study.

“But…” Snowdrop began, her brow creasing in thought. “But, princess? I failed.”

Luna spared her a glance beneath an arched brow, and the corners of her mouth curled with amusement. “Did you? I saw a change. Just because you didn’t complete the change you wanted does not mean you had no effect.” The crown rose and spun about. “Have you ever seen moonflowers so small?”

“Well, no…”

“Then you had a success,” she explained. “It was simply a different success than what you intended.” With that, she sent the flowers back to her pupil and deposited them atop her head.

“Oh.” Snowdrop blinked, her head slowly tilting to the right as she processed the different point of view. Her crown took the opportunity to slide to the side, where it drooped over her right eye as it dangled from her horn.

“Pfeh,” she muttered, placing the crown back in its rightful place. When she looked again, she noticed the princess was much farther ahead along the darkening path.

“Princess,” she called out, “please wait.”

Luna stopped, then turned slightly to answer over her shoulder. “I am in no hurry. Is it my distance that bothers you, or something else?”

Snowdrop took a pace forward, then stopped, one hoof in the air. She set it back down. “I… it’s awfully dark.”

“Yes, it is,” Luna agreed, turning about to face Snowdrop again. She looked skyward. “Still, the moon is out and the path is clear. Come, join me.”

“I... I don’t like the dark,” she admitted. She stared at her hooves, shifting her balance this way and that.

“Ah. There is no shame in fearing the unknown, so long as your caution does not overtake your better senses.” Luna sat down once more, moving no closer. “You had some success with the crown, did you not?” She smiled reassuringly. “Let’s try something else.”

“Something else?” Snowdrop echoed. “You mean, something to make it less dark?”

“In a fashion. I find it’s easier to change something than to create it out of nothing.” Luna poked at the vegetation beside the path with an outstretched hoof. “These brambles, for instance. Take a look at the brambles near you. Do you see anything interesting?”

“Interesting?” Distracted from the darkness, Snowdrop studied the plants. “I see some thorns, and some vines, and some little berries…”

“Ah!” Luna interrupted. “What color are the berries?”

Snowdrop peered at the miniscule orbs. “They’re yellow, and some are a little brown.”

“Like the glass in the lamps in Pasofino?” Luna suggested.

“A… a little.” She smiled despite herself, realizing where this conversation was going. “I…” She grinned at Luna. “I could make them little lamps!”

Luna’s eyes glittered in the moonlight. “Why don’t you try? But instead of focusing on changing the berry, think about the light from the lamps.”

Snowdrop stared at the berry. She thought of the lamps at home, and the light they cast, and how Mr. Herald always had a kind word for her, if she was out-of-doors when he made his rounds.

Suddenly, something deep within the berry began to glow. A reddish ember flared once, then twice, and then a gentle golden light shone, illuminating the brambles. Snowdrop giggled in amazement, and suddenly every berry on every bramble lit up—a thousand golden fireflies filling the night with their glow.

Snowdrop squeaked with glee, prancing about, taking in the sight.

“Very good, indeed,” Luna commented. She stood, and examined the berries by her side. “I must admit I am impressed. For a filly who has never tried lucid dreaming, you are doing quite well.”

“Luci… what?” Snowdrop scrunched up her nose, not following the conversation.

“Lucid dreaming,” Luna repeated. “Dreaming, but being aware that you are dreaming. It allows you to change things, and to remember more clearly.”

Snowdrop’s eyes widened, and her smile returned in force. “You mean, I can learn to do this even when you’re not visiting?”

“You can,” Luna replied, turning once more towards the platform. It was now only a few paces away.

“Oh!” Snowdrop trotted forward and took her place at her mentor’s side. Together, they climbed the rough-hewn steps to the platform, and from its position Snowdrop could see all of Pasofino below them. In the far distance sat her home, its faintly-lit windows nestled into the hillside. The town proper slept beneath the radiant crescent moon.

Snowdrop gazed from landmark to landmark. She studied how the conservatory’s tiled roof shone under the stars, how the the moonlight played on the fishing pond, and how the lamplight near the park never quite reached the trees in its center.

“Princess Luna, it’s beautiful.”

“Thank you. Every city and town has its own mood at night. Pasofino is particularly gentle, and I try to capture that essence when I must visit in dreams.”

The two stood in silence, taking in the view. After a moment, Snowdrop spoke again. “Princess Luna? Why are we here? Why are you here?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Snowdrop? I’m taking you to school.”

Author's Note:

I hope you enjoyed this little treat. I'll be diving into Luna's teaching methods soon.

Comments

[Themaskedferret]

Beautiful as always.

[Tatsurou]

It has obviously been too long since I read the earlier chapters of this story. I kept picturing the blind Pegasus from the animation.
Remind me again who's who? And what's going on?

[Dream Volt]

4757966 Snowdrop is Worker's daughter. Though since this is a series of stories it jumps around a little. I think she's only shown up briefly. Also I made the exact same mistake at first, but upon the unicorn comment I remembered.

[Tatsurou]

4758524
But why is Luna taking her 'to school'? Does she have a talent for dream magic or something?

[TwilightSnarkle]

4758553
Luna's education of Snowdrop is referenced in the last chapter of Hope. Search for the word 'mentor'. The Princesses maintain and monitor a school of magic for all unicorns (reasons why have not really been explored yet) which is one of the reasons Celestia suspected something odd w/ Worker in the second chapter of Justice.

[Ltblackcoat]

Nice, short but sweat.

[Ltblackcoat]

4759248

I remember that, they found it weird that not only had a subject fallen from there records, but also how well he seemed to do with magic as a unicorn.

[djthomp]

Worker's daughter as Luna's student in dream magic? That's pretty awesome.

[metallusionsismagic]

This page was advertising to me a way to "find my dream horse." How apt!
Luna always picks the best students. Does this one remind her of a pegasus long past?

[AppleTank]

That's an epic way to go to school.