> To Dance In Shadow
>  by kudzuhaiku
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1 *
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Rookwood looked at the filly before him, her backside wiggling in a most inviting way, her tail raised, flipped up and hanging over one side, her soft powder pink buttocks glistening with moisture, light reflecting in all odd angles, like drops of sparkling morning dew. She was looking over her shoulder at him, her eyes nearly closed, her face had an orgasmic grin plastered over her snout. Her pink wings were out, stiff, hard as steel. He could imagine hooking his forelegs in front of her wing joints and using them to get a good grip as he drove himself into her dark purple-pink filly bits. 

He could feel himself throbbing. It almost felt like his boner was going to run out of skin and pop. His fevered adolescent brain understood on some level that he was dreaming, but this was a dream he had longed to make a reality for a very long time. He licked his dry lips and stepped forward, bravely looking into her eyes, returning her gaze. In his dream, he was desirable. He was handsome. She was eager, wet and willing, and she was waiting. She made a gesture with her head, tossing her head back, urging Rookwood to come and mount her. 

Rookwood’s dream self was the image of what he dreamed he was. Tall. Muscular. Stout. Well built. Well endowed. He was nothing at all like he was in real life. Scrawny. Skinny. Bespectacled, requiring cider bottle lenses just to be able to see anything. In this heated dream, his glasses were gone. He was the ideal handsome beauty. 

He took another step forward, feeling a dull throbbing ache in his oversized dream endowed testicles. They hung down to his knees almost. He could see the tip of his oversized cock peeking out from between his front legs. A trailing dribble of cock snot dangled from the tip, swinging back and forth pendulously, growing in length as he confidently strode forward. 

He lowered his head, his nose touching wet folds. She smelled sweet. The smell and the sticky texture were entirely too much like cake batter. He chanced a lick, causing her to kick her hind hoof into the ground, frustrated and impatient. 

Bubblegum Berry wouldn’t even give him the time of day in school, but here, in the realm of dreams, she was wet and willing for Rookwood, urging him on impatiently, little cries of desire now escaping her pouting lips. 

He took a few more licks, his thick tongue creating a lovely friction, each lick tugging and pulling on the tightly drawn folds, stretching and twisting the budded flesh. He worked the tip deep into a wrinkled fold, drawing out the puckered flesh, pulling it taut, making it go smooth. His tongue broke contact and it snapped back into place with a wet sounding squish, causing a dribble of cunny honey to slowly extend toward the floor, the long viscous strand almost reaching her hooves before Rookwood flicked his tongue and slurped up the long sweet strand of filly froth. Once he started to swallow, he couldn’t stop, the thick stringy strand was too thick to simply break. It traveled down his throat, sliding through his windpipe, half of it down his throat, the other half still being slurped through his eager lips. It wouldn’t break, he had to keep swallowing to work it down. 

He took another few licks once he was freed from swallowing the gooey filly froth. 

He mounted Bubblegum Berry, hooking his front hooves in front of her wing joints, pulling her backwards towards him, his oversized cock banging away at her backside, causing her to squeal. He had trouble finding his way in. He found what felt like an entrance, he pushed and encountered resistance. He pushed a little harder, drawing a long loud squeal from the filly beneath him. He pulled back, realising he was pushing into what had to be a very uncomfortable place. The entrance was dry and pulled and tugged on his own skin painfully. 

He thrust forwards a few times more, angling his hips, driving lower, finding something wet. He pressed, pushing forward, causing Bubblegum Berry to moan like the filthy whorse she was, her wings trembling, throwing her head back. 

He eased his way in, slowly, feeling himself bend uncomfortably if he applied too much pressure. Halfway in, he thrust forwards with a bit more force, feeling a bit more confident, but it was still awkward and slow going, the clumsy ineffectual actions of first time love. 

He pulled out slightly, feeling delightful friction, hearing a wet sucking sound, almost like that of a hoof being pulled out of the mud. With the tip still inside, he thrust forward, slowly, easing his way back in. Rookwood’s breathing increased and he moaned, none of his adolescent rasping and squeaking present in his dream self’s voice. It was deep and masculine. 

He pulled out again, leaving the tip still firmly planted in just the right spot, angled his hips upward, and thrust in boldly, the tip of his cock rubbing along the top of her slick passage, pressing deep into the soft spongy flesh, causing Bubblegum Berry to scream with delight. 

Again, he pulled out, adjusted his angle a little more, and rammed forward, now with confidence, drawing another equine scream of pleasure from the filly, her back arching, her head thrashing back and forth, her purple mane whipping into his face. 

She writhed under him, her hind legs kicking and stomping, shoving her self back to meet his thrusting advances, her cries the sorts of cries a filly makes in a desperate colt’s dream. 

Rookwood looked down at the filly he was rutting, watching her, still trying to go balls deep. He pulled out halfway and made another frenzied thrust, driving himself in deeper than ever, but not quite balls deep. She was turning darker beneath him, a detail his fevered mind failed to notice, her pelt turning purple. Rookwood could not see it, but a shadowy haze had enveloped his horn, a pooling darkness near the tip. 

His frenzied thrusting continued unabated, still trying to hilt himself. 

Finally, he jammed forward with every ounce of strength he could muster, causing the filly to shriek with horny adolescent desire, her coat continuing to turn a deep purple. Unnoticed, a horn began to sprout from her head. A blue horn, only a nub, peeped forth. 

He felt his balls slapping against her backside, each thrust causing them to sting, each hilted frenzied thrust causing Bubblegum Berry to cry out, her pelt still changing colour, now no longer quite so purple, but more of a dark shade of navy blue. He saw none of this however, his eyes closed now, his face contorted with effort and concentration, lost in the throes of horny teenaged lust. 

He knew this was a dream and he didn’t care. In his dream, he was perfect. Somewhere in the depths of his mind, he knew his real life stamina would never allow this. He would have probably blew his load on the first few half entered pokes. 

“What in Tartarus?!” 

The strange voice did little to slow his frenzied thrusting, but he did open his eyes. He saw a blue face looking at him, an ethereal mane full of stars whipped around his face. Bubblegum Berry had turned blue and sprouted a horn. 

No, that wasn’t right. 

This wasn’t Bubblegum Berry. 

He froze, balls deep in Luna, Mistress of Dreams, Princess of the Night, Guardian of the Starry Realms, Monarch of the Moon. Her wings were flared, just as Bubblegum Berry’s had been. She was looking at him, her eyes blinking, surprise and shock on her face. 

And maybe something else as well. 

“Did I give you permission to stop?” Luna said, biting her lip. “It is very rude to keep a mare waiting in mid coitus. There is much I will tolerate in dreams, but poor manners is not acceptable.” 

Rookwood pulled out and politely as possible thrust his way back in, doing so as softly and carefully as possible, feeling cold sweat pouring down his plot crack and trickling over his balls. 

Luna rolled her eyes. 

Rookwood felt his backside seized in magic. He was pulled out, and then jammed forward with enough force to nearly shatter his pelvis. Luna gnawed on her lip, her eyes rolling back into her head. 

“It has been a very long time since my full consciousness has been pulled into a single dream.” She murmured. “Do not disappoint me!” 

Realising that he could not hurt the Princess of the Night, Rookwood did what any teenaged colt being visited by Luna in a wet dream would do. 

He went for the gusto knowing this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. He resumed his frantic frenzied thrusting, trying to jam himself ever deeper into Luna, making her hiss like a tea kettle. He tried his angle trick again, scraping his tip over the roof of Luna’s clinging somewhat stinging passage, causing Luna to squirm and nearly buck. Using every ounce of strength, he pulled her backwards with his forehooves, hooked onto her wing joints, trying to get every ounce of leverage that he could. 

Wet sucking and slurping sounds fill the air, his thrusting rapid and tireless, each one perfect, delivering in such a way that was only possible in dreams. In life, he was a failure. In dreams, he was perfection. 

He heard Luna cry out, her shout deafening, causing his ears to ring, and felt her clenching around this thrusting and pistoning cock. A flood of slippery liquid oozed out, his frenzied pumping causing it to squirt with every thrust forward, sending streams of liquid Luna spurting outward. 

The dreamscape vanished, they were standing in a void now, among the stars, their hooves on nothing solid, yet something solid remained under them, no longer visible. 

Rookwood was on the brink now, feeling his own orgasm rumbling forward. Magic gripped him, slamming his body down upon Luna, his belly becoming flush with her back, his neck entwined with hers, and with an exceedingly painful crushing blow against his backside, he was rammed in deeper than he had ever gone. 

Rookwood awoke in his bed as he exploded, flooding his bed with ejaculate, spraying it all over his chest, his blankets, and his sheets. He nearly choked on his own tongue. Every muscle in his scrawny body was on fire, his guts churned, his sheets so deep up his own plot crack that it would take several minutes of dedicated effort to pull them out. He flooded his bed with cum. 

He lay there gasping for several minutes, unable to move, barely able to breathe, the dream already fading, the details becoming hazy. He lay there in a hot, wet, sticky pile, his mouth bone dry, his pecker sore from having been stretched to its limits from arousal. His balls ached, throbbing dully, making his plothole pucker and clench in time to each aching throb. He felt himself going soft.

Rookwood felt a vague sense of panic settle into the back of his mind. He would need to clean up before going to school. He needed a shower. His bedding would need changing. 

He noticed his horn aching, something it had never done before. He turned on his bedside lamp and stumbled out of bed, covered in cum, a truly embarrassing amount of cum, the sort of flood of semen that only a teenage colt could produce. 

He stood there, still gasping, wanting a drink of something cold. He carefully put on his glasses, the extra thick lenses allowing him to see, and turned to look at himself in the mirror, hoping to see the version of himself he had been in his dream. 

Instead, he saw the pathetic reality of what he was. Scrawny, skinny, ribs somewhat visible, his unappealing avocado green pelt shimmering with wetness. 

He also saw a cutie mark, which nearly caused him to cry out. It was a pony, in profile, a black silhouette, an equine outline. He had no idea what it meant, but he was glad to see it there. It was one less thing to be teased about. 



 

Luna snapped out of her dreaming state, forcibly snapped back into reality, soaked and covered in coital fluids. Her breath came in ragged gasps. She had brought a countless number of these dreams to so many, but so rarely had she ever been pulled into one of these dreams so completely. Usually, her consciousness spread over thousands and thousands of sleepers, all dreaming, not really aware or knowing what was going on. There were a few that she kept a close eye on, entering their dreams fully, hoping to make their abilities blossom, guiding them towards their greater potential. 

But tonight, she had been pulled completely into a dream by the will of another, and rutted like she had never been rutted before as well. The force of the dreamer’s mind was truly impressive, his control something truly magnificent. He had drawn her in completely, caught her unawares, rutting the tiny fragment of her essence that had formed the image of the filly he was so madly in lust with, and then drawing her in completely, revealing her true form in the dream. 

Luna’s marehood was still wet, sopping, oozing fluids. Her hind legs were soaked. She reeked of arousal and mare musk. She was still sore, a painful stinging sensation back there. The dream had spilled over into reality. She rolled over, causing her wet clenching marehood to slither and slide against her fleshy little pink-purple jelly bean, hidden amongst her secret folds, causing her to experience one last spine shattering orgasm. She fell back over, her legs locked together, her teeth clenched, one front hoof banging into the cushion repeatedly as her body was wracked by spasms. She fell onto her back, her wings snapping outward painfully, instantly engorged and full of blood, trapping her on her back. She laid there for several minutes, waiting for the sensation to die down. 

It had been well over a thousand years since she had last experienced a truly great orgasm. She lay there, smiling, realising that she was going to need a hot soak in a tub before the dawn came and she had breakfast with her sister. 



 

Several weeks later, Luna came down with what she thought was the flu, the worst flu she had ever had. It left her weak, nauseous, and nearly unable to perform her duties, causing Celestia no end of worry. 
	
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Celestia’s mind refused to accept what she had just heard. It simply was not possible. It just could not happen. There was no physical way that it could have happened. She looked at her sister laying on the elevated examination bed. Luna was staring at the ceiling, her face completely blank. 

“This cannot be possible.” Celestia stated. “My sister and I are sterile. We have been alive for untold centuries and this has never happened before. The magics we have channeled have made us as barren as the southern wastes.” 

“And yet here we are.” Doctor Chamomile said. “Your sister is with foal.” 

Celestia stomped her hoof, nearly cracking the tile underneath. “How?” She said, her face contorting. “How did this happen?” 

“Well, sexual activity is the usual culprit.” Doctor Chamomile said. 

Celestia glared daggers at the doctor, daring her to become insolent again. 

Luna took a deep breath, trying to steady herself mentally. She watched the snow falling outside of the window. Nightmare Night had passed and it would be Hearth’s Warming Eve soon. She laid her head back on the pillow, her ears spilling backwards upon her bare head, her crown on a table nearby. She felt nauseous. She cocked her leg and farted loudly. 

“I know how this happened. At least, I think I do.” Luna said, still staring at the ceiling. “I was in the dreamscape a while back. And I was pulled into a dream. A colt’s wet dream. It was a very physical dream.” 

“You go into dreams all the time sister.” Celestia said, her tone bubbling with hot anger. “And I am sure you go into plenty of erotic dreams of all sorts of ponies. This has never happened before.” Celestia visibly shuddered in disgust. Luna’s night time activities made her skin crawl, but they had to be done. 

“First time for everything.” Luna said, rubbing her belly. “I was pulled out of all of my other dreams and into this dream. My minimal essence became a full on manifestation, I took over the body of the school filly he was busy fornicating.” Luna heaved a sigh. “I woke up quite messily, forcibly tossed out of the dream when he climaxed, like a prophylactic shot through the air after a forcible ejactulation.” 

“Luna, was that necessary?” Celestia said, shrugging in disgust. “We need to figure out how and why this happened. We shall have to summon this colt at once and determine the cause for this.” Celestia added. 

“Are you sure this is necessary?” Luna asked. 

“If what you are saying is true, then he pulled you out of other dreams and took liberties with your body. Imagine the harm he could cause if he went into the dreams of others.” Celestia reasoned. 

“I suppose you are correct sister.” Luna said. “I will speak with my guard and have him brought in as soon as possible.” Luna fell silent for a moment. “He was a unicorn Celestia. I think he has shadow magic.” 

“Unicorns cannot use shadow magic.” Celestia said. “Only the lunar pegasi have that ability.” 

“I have shadow magic.” Luna said, making a casual dismissive gesture with her hoof. 

“That is different and we both know it.” Celestia said in irritation. 

“I’d like to do a few more tests if I may.” Doctor Chamomile said. 

“Do as you need healer.” Luna said. “And Celestia, he did not take liberties with my body. I commanded him to keep rutting. It was quite pleasant. You cannot rape those willing. His manipulation of dream-stuff was equal to or exceeded mine own. No matter the outcome, I enjoyed my self.” 

Celestia cringed away from her sister, her eyes narrowing, her ears folding against her skull. 

“He was a lucid dreamer. He had excellent control over his dream form.” Luna said. “Too much control perhaps. He has made a barren mare pregnant.” Luna clucked her tongue. “Quite a feat I will confess.” 

Celestia could stand no more. She flounced out the door and disappeared, leaving Luna alone with the doctor. 



 

“Have you made peace with being an aunt yet?” Luna asked her sister during a shared meal. Luna’s breakfast and Celestia’s supper. Luna ate slowly and methodically, her breathing somewhat laboured. 

“No.” Celestia said. “Not at all.” 

“Are you not happy for me dear sister?” Luna said in wounded tones. 

“Of course I am happy for you Luna. I am merely disturbed because of these means that this happened. If I wasn’t worried, I would be a terrible monarch.” Celestia said, having a sip of wine. She took a one sip, another sip, still another, and then gulped down the remainder of the glass. 

Luna delicately nibbled a night blue tart frosted with the image of her cutie mark. There were at at least a half a dozen more, and they were quite good. They satisfied a certain… Craving. 

“Celestia, you have at least ten to eleven months to make peace.” Luna’s tone was airy, teasing. She smiled faintly, an almost girlish giggle escaped her lips. 

Celestia froze, her emptied wine glass still held aloft. She didn’t move for a while, her face emotionless, her demeanour unknown. Finally, a hint of a smile teased her snout. 

“You know I’ll share, right?” Luna said. 

Celestia could say nothing, she only swallowed a few times, her usually rigid ears now drooping to the sides, allowing a display of actual emotion usually not seen by the public. 

“He will be brought here tomorrow.” Luna said. 

Celestia nodded. “Luna…” 

Luna turned to look at her sister, looking her in the eye.

“I’d like to share this experience with you. I would have never thought these moments possible. This is why I take students. Have a hoof in in the lives of promising students.” Celestia refilled her wine glass. 

“I know dear sister.” Luna replied, turning her gaze to the deepening night just outside the window. There was the clink of armor as the guard shuffled near the door. 





Celestia paced nervously, back and forth, each hoof carefully raised, tilted, moved, and then lowered. A perfect parade march back and forth through the antechambre that served as the entryway into the section that contained Luna’s private quarters. Luna was in her room, making ready. Celestia waited upon delivery. 

She pondered about what it was like to wait upon the mail, her tension building. 

Luna emerged, looking regal as always. She had her crown, her royal regalia, her shoes. Except something seemed off. Luna’s serious mein was gone, her face filled with a beaming smile. She looked radiant. 

There was a commotion down the hallway, the sound of heavy hooves clattering over the floor. A guard leaned his head into the antechambre. “We have… A guest.” He said, his tone and selection of words chosen carefully. 

Both of the sisters exited the antechambre, allowing the guard to lead them down the hall, through the commons, and into a small private room blessedly free from the public eye. 

As they entered the room both of them froze. Both of them each saw something very different. Each of them had their own perspective, unique to themselves, distinct. 

Celestia saw the colt that had violated her sister’s sacrosanct body and had left her in a delicate condition. She saw an instigator. A trouble maker. Her anger flared. She saw a colt that was about to answer for his heinous crimes. 

Luna saw a stranger. 

This was not the colt in her dreams. Her mind balked, trying to process this information. The dream image was always, always somewhat true to the original. Except that did not seem to be the case right now. The colt before her was utterly unlike his dream counterpart. Almost an opposite. He was peering at them both through thick spectacles with blue and black plastic frames. 

And he looked terrified. Why shouldn’t he be? 

The colt cowered, nearly losing it. Sweat poured from his body as he gazed at the sisters, his eyes going back and forth from Luna and then to Celestia, only to return to Luna. 

“You remember me, yes?” Luna said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. 

The colt nodded. 

“You assaulted my sister.” Celestia said after a moment of searching for words, her nostrils flaring. 

Luna glanced at her sister. 

“What is your name?” Luna said. “We should start there.” 

“R-r-r-r-r-rookwood.” Rookwood stammered, sweat pouring from his skinny body in rivulets. 

“And what do you remember Rookwood?” Luna said, her voice sheer velvet compared to Celestia’s commanding tone. 

“Only little bits and pieces. A dream. That’s all. I didn’t mean to dream about you. I’ll try not to do it again. I didn’t know it was wrong.” Rookwood was clearly terrified. “And I’ll get rid of that magazine with pictures of the Princess Cadance wearing that slinky dress to the gala. I’ll be good. I’ll try to be good. I didn’t mean to be a pervert.” 

“Enough.” Celestia commanded, causing Rookwood to fall silent. He kneeled down to the floor and continued to tremble. 

“Rookwood, it was a little more than a dream. And that is why you are here.” Luna said. 

“Yes. You magically coerced my sister into your dream and assaulted her bodily.” Celestia growled. 

Luna shot her sister another glance as poor Rookwood fell completely to the floor, groveling on his belly, his head pressed to the floor. 

“I don’t see how.” Rookwood stammered. “I don’t have any magic. None at all. My parents took me to a specialist and everything. I have no spark.” Rookwood said, his words coming out in panicked blurted bursts. “But I did get a cutie mark after that night.” 

“Rookwood, stop trembling. Try to get up.” Luna said soothingly.  She turned to her sister. “And you need to calm thyself.” Luna’s words fell into old patterns, probably due to the stress of the moment. 

“I will not be calm. He… He captured you. Drew you in using hostile magic. He assaulted you sexually and then left you with foal as a reminder of his little stunt.” Celestia said, her voice nearly a shout. “There was no chance at consent when he was already having his way with you. I do not care what you say to excuse the situation Luna or the matter of your own desires.” 

A long string of whimpers came from Rookwood as he tried to become one with the floor. 

“ENOUGH!” Luna shouted, causing the room to go completely silent. 

“I thought it was just a dream.” Rookwood cried in strangled whisper after several long moments of silence passed. 

“Get up.” Luna said. 

Rookwood did not move. He gazed at Luna, and then Celestia. He closed his eyes and resumed cowering, trying to make himself look as pathetic as possible, his glasses askew. 

“Rise.” Luna commanded.

Rookwood found himself doing exactly that. He looked down in confusion at his own traitorous limbs. “I don’t want to go to the moon.” He whimpered. 

Luna became quite rigid, unmoving, her eyes wide in shock. 

Celestia’s scowl intensified. 

“It is not my intention to punish you.” Luna explained. “I apologise for your distress.” 

“It is not Luna’s place to punish you.” Celestia said, butting in. “It is mine.”

“Celestia, enough.” Luna said. “Look at him. Ponies can die of fright you know.” 

“I do not understand how you can be so dismissive of what he has done to you.” Celestia said. 

“I could say the same of you Celestia, after what has transpired between us.” Luna replied coolly. She turned the full force of her stare upon her sister. 

Celestia turned and left the room, her wings fluttering, her head bobbing, her mouth moving but no words coming out. 

“F-f-f-f-foal.” Rookwood mumbled. 

Luna nodded, saying nothing. 

“H-h-h-how?” Rookwood stuttered

“That is the current mystery I was hoping to solve.” Luna said. “A miraculous feat seeing as how I am barren. And you clearly have some kind of magic. You pulled me into the dream. You completely altered your dream self to an ideal form, an impressive task, seeing what you have to work with.” 

“What is to be done with me?” Rookwood said, gulping and swallowing. 

“You shall remain here as my guest for the time being.” Luna replied. 

“Are the guest rooms down under the castle?” Rookwood choked out in a hoarse whisper. 

“Mine sister is currently in a fit of pique.” Luna explained. “She will be most unbearable for the time being. But no, I do not intend for you to stay in those particular guest rooms. I would not have the father of this foal imprisoned simply because of my sister’s current state of agitation.” 

“I do not remember much. Only bits and flashes. Little bits.” Rookwood blushed. I thought it was only a dream. Honest, had I known that it wasn’t a dream I… I…” 

“You would probably have kept going considering the position you were in. Biology is difficult to deny.” Luna said. 

“I don’t know.” Rookwood admitted. “I’d like to think I was above that.” 

“Our dreams reveal our innermost selves and desires.” Luna replied. “If I had commanded you to stop, would you have?” 

Rookwood shrugged. “I’d like to think I would have…” he said, “but look at me. I am a pathetic loser. That is probably the closest I am ever going to come to banging a mare.” 

“Banging a mare.” Luna said, pursing her lips. “Such crass vulgarities are sure to endear you to the fairer sex. I know that I am most aroused at this moment. Practically dripping.”  

Rookwood turned away. “Right now, I am a pathetic virgin that is about to become a father.” 

Luna snorted, failing to restrain a laugh, causing Rookwood to hang his head in shame. 

“Go ahead and laugh. Everypony else does.” Rookwood said, his cheeks blazing.

“I wasn’t laughing at you.” Luna explained. “But this situation has become absurd.” 

“My parents are going to kill me.” Rookwood said. 

“We shall have to explain this matter to them once we discover what happened.” Luna said, nodding. “And that is why you are here. You have an interesting cutie mark. What appears to be a shadow. All of this is proving most interesting.” 

“And what is to become of me?” Rookwood asked. “After all of this is sorted and settled?” 

“I do not know.” Luna replied. “But there is time enough to deal with that issue later.” 
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Rookwood stood in a small but comfortable apartment. Thankfully, it wasn’t the dungeon. Or the moon, he reflected. There was a bed, a small study with a desk, a bathroom, and a closet. It was much nicer than his bedroom at home. 

He plopped himself down in a chair and sat back, feeling rather miserable. He had his cutie mark. He was now living in a castle. He was about to be a father. He didn’t know why he was miserable, but he was. He was going to have to write to his parents and try to explain why he wasn’t coming home. 

A clock on the wall ticked. It was past midnight. He rose from his chair and resumed pacing. 

Back and forth through the room he went, pacing. It was a nervous habit that he had acquired when he was young. He stared at the clock. It was a quarter to one. He had magic now, Luna had mentioned that. She suspected shadow magic. Rookwood had no idea how to make it manifest though. His hooves tapped on the floor as he paced in a line. 

There was a soft rapping on the door. He froze. He stared at the door. 

“May I come in?” 

The voice belonged to Celestia. She was here to do him in. 

“I thought I heard you pacing as I passed.” 

Rookwood said nothing. 

The door clicked, opening slowly. Celestia stuck her head in. 

“Might I come in?” Celestia asked. She looked tired. Her eyes were red. 

Rookwood nodded. He certainly couldn’t stop her. 

“We have something in common.” Celestia said, her face blank and difficult to read. “It seems we both pace.” 

Rookwood nodded again. 

Celestia was in the room now. Rookwood waited. For something. Anything. He just wished it would be over with. He felt like he was about to piss himself, right here before Celestia. 

“I wanted to offer an apology.” Celestia said. “I may not have been my usual self this day.” 

Rookwood stood there, dumbfounded. 

“You must understand, I love my sister a great deal. The news, this situation, it has left me somewhat confused and befuddled. I was angry. And I may have taken it out on you inappropriately.” 

Celestia stood there, waiting for some kind of reply. Which did not come. 

“As I have stated, I am sorry. I will leave you in peace. Try to get some sleep. You are expected at breakfast tomorrow. A guard will be sent to wake you and collect you.” Celestia’s face was still an unreadable mask as she retreated out the door. It closed with a click. 

Rookwood rushed to the bathroom to relieve himself, thankful that he had not pissed himself right there in front of the princess. He straddled the toilet bowl, releasing a flood of stress hormone filled urine that filled the bathroom with a terrible stench. 

He flushed and fled the small room. 

He laid down in bed, exhausted, scared, tense. He needed some sort of relief, but he was too tired to clop himself to sleep. He stared at the ceiling, the room now dark, worried that sleep would not find him. 

He should have been more worried about what would happen when it did.



 

Rookwood drifted through a starry sky. He had wings. They were made of smoke it seemed. He flapped them. He could see through them. Almost. If he squinted the right way. He didn’t seem to need them to fly. He just sort of drifted though wherever he was. 

In the distance, on the horizon, he saw the moon. He began to drift towards that. Above him, stars twinkled. Below him, there were clouds. He flapped his smoky wings a few times, picking up speed. The air was cold. 

He angled upwards, towards the moon, delighting in the sensation of flight. Below him, the clouds began to swirl. He looked down, watching the swirling clouds. Lightning crackled in the black writhing mass. 

He flapped harder, wanting to gain elevation. 

The moon seemed close now. Below him, the storm raged. 

He was quite alarmed when he looked down and saw a wispy face swirling in the clouds. It gazed at him with hate filled turquoise eyes. He could hear booming laughter. Horrible hideous laughter. It was just as much inside of his head as it was outside of his head. It felt like something striking at the inside of his skull, a sharp painful repeating blow. 

“You show promise.” A voice boomed. It crackled within the thunder. 

Rookwood continued to try and fly away. A shadowy tendril shot up from below. It wrapped around one of his hind legs, causing exquisite agony. He suddenly felt weaker, it was a struggle to draw breath. 

“Ah, yes, after all this time, life…” The voice was pure madness inside of his head. It ached. “You’re not the alicorn body that I crave, but you have so much raw potential. You will have to do.” 

The tendril continued to writhe around his leg, climbing upwards. The seeking tip brushed up against his testicles, causing searing pain, as though his balls had just been shoved into a bed of white hot coals. 

Rookwood screamed, struggling to get away from the tendril and the terrible black clouds below him. It had a good hold on him though, gaining a better hold with each passing moment. 

“Life…” the voice rumbled, “virility. I was not aware that males possessed so much essence.” 

Rookwood’s screams were now only audible to bats and other animals that heard noises in the ultrasonic frequency. His precious balls were being pulled from his torso, he just knew it. He could feel the tearing tug. His lungs ignited with flames. He could feel a tight tearing yank just below his plothole, in his taint. 

“Do not resist me, allow me to feed a little longer. I need to restore my strength.” The voice bellowed. “I will not destroy you or what you hold so dear, down there between your useless little legs. But I need life!” 

Rookwood’s body fell apart, turning into a cloud of shadowy smoke. His consciousness drifted. Inspite of the voice’s promises that he would not be destroyed, Rookwood knew he was dying. His body was gone. And now he began to drift through night. 



 

Rookwood was shaken awake. A large bat winged guard was shaking him violently. Rookwood was still screaming. He had a body. And he was drawing breath. His balls were still somewhere, sitting on a bed of coals however, so he continued screaming, a keening wail of the damned. As long as his balls were burning, secured somewhere, perhaps in the middle of the sun, he was prepared to scream for all eternity. Every second was a thousand years on the moon, his balls on fire, hidden in the sun. 

A hoof slapped him so hard that he felt his eyeballs slosh back and forth in their sockets. 

He saw Luna, her hoof still raised. 

He cringed, not wanting another slap, his breath caught in his throat. The fire in his balls now gone, though the pain continued to linger. 

“Do I need to slap you again?” Luna said, her hoof still raised, ready, and her expression she was more than willing. 

Rookwood shook his head no. 

“What happened? We felt a disturbance, all of us attuned to shadow. When we entered, you were in shadow form  above your bed. I had to pull you out.” Luna looked concerned. 

Rookwood drew in his breaths in ragged bursts. 

“Do you need another slap to focus?” Luna said, raising an eyebrow. 

Rookwood shook his head no. He didn’t want the distinct sensation of his eyeballs sloshing in their sockets ever again. His head was still ringing from the last slap. 

“I had a bad dream.” Rookwood heaved. 

“More than that I’d say.” The bat winged guard commented. 

“Why did you slap me so hard?” Rookwood said, nearly crying. 

Luna and the guard both began to chuckle slightly. “That was a gentle tap.” Luna said, now smiling faintly. “I had to wake you. Now tell me about your dream or I will slap you for disobedience, and this time, I will not be gentle.” 

Rookwood whimpered. 

“It was dark. I… I… I was in the sky or something. I had wings made out of smoke. I was flying. I have lots of dreams about flying. The clouds turned into a storm or something. I heard a voice. It laughed at me. Something in the cloud grabbed me, the same smoky stuff my wings were made out of. It wrapped around my legs.  Said it needed my life. And then my balls were on fire.” Rookwood said. 

Luna looked concerned, scowling. She then vanished, simply gone, all that was left was a cloud of smoke. The smoke began to move towards Rookwood, seeking out his ear. He wiggled and squirmed, but he was held in place by the bat winged guard. 

He felt a tickle in his ear and then suddenly, he was no longer alone in his own mind. He was distinctly aware of Luna being in there. Somehow, he knew. He could hear her thoughts. 

Get out! Right now! He thought, as hard as he could. 

Ouch! Luna’s thoughts echoed through his brain painfully. You can feel me? Sense me? And you can talk to me while I am in here? You can hear my thoughts?

Yes. Now GET OUT! Rookwood shrieked internally. 

Argh! Damn you! Be gentle, or I shall slap you from inside of your own head Luna warned. 

Rookwood silenced his mind, fearing that Luna would make good on her threat. The slap from the outside had hurt. From the inside, who knows what harm might befall him. He could feel her poking around in his mind. Prying. Pulling. Looking through everything. 

What are you doing He demanded. 

 Seeing what you saw. ‘Tis most interesting. Luna replied. 

So you can see my thoughts? 

There was no reply. 

Rookwood resented this intrusion. He began to pull up the few torrid images that remained of the dream, including the aftermath when he was awake, blowing his load in his bed. 

He felt an odd sense of arousal that was not his own. Something feminine. It sparked his own arousal. A tiny fire ignited deep within his brain. 

Something thudded into the inside of his head, right behind his eyeballs, nearly causing them to squirt from their sockets and be ejected from his skull. He cried out and whimpered from the agonising pain. It somehow hurt even more from the inside. He could actually hear the hoof impact somewhere in between his ears. 

Stop being clever Luna’s thoughts demanded. Distract me like that again and incur my wrath. 

Luna exited from his head, trickling out of his ear. She stood looking at him, her cheeks flushed, her dark blue pelt now a dark ruddy purple. 

“You are full of surprises.” Luna stated. “And my nemesis as well. Which does not bode well for either of us.” 

Rookwood waited for her to explain. She didn’t 

“Nemesis?” He asked. 

“Remnants of Nightmare Moon, whom I once was. She exists in dreams now, plaguing my subjects with nightmares. Except for you.” Luna said. “She wants you. And given your odd abilities, I can see why. I would want you too.” 

Luna paused, blushing even more. “I mean, from her perspective.” Luna corrected. 

Rookwood simply nodded, not wanting another skull thudding slap. Those hurt. And there had been two of them. He was not sure if he would survive a third. His skull hurt. The bone actually hurt. 

Luna smiled. “I guess I am left with no choice but to kill you.” Luna sighed. She and her guard faded from reality. Rookwood was alone in his room. He ran to his door, trying to open it, but the door handle was gone completely. He kicked and thudded on the door, but it made no sound. 

No no no no no… He drew in ragged painful panicked breaths, cold terror flooding his body. 

Rookwood pondered his life. He was going to die a virgin, even though he had bagged a princess in his dreams. He had fathered exactly one foal, and would never father another one. There was no point in screaming he figured. Nopony would hear him anyway he suspected. All he could do now was wait for the end to come. He doubted he would be going to breakfast in the morning. 

He sank down to the floor and began to weep. 

Many hours later, how long he could not tell, because his window had gone missing as well, he heard hoofsteps outside his door. 

“Rookwood?” 

It was Celestia’s voice. 

“Help me!” Rookwood shouted. 

“I am terribly sorry for the fate that must befall you.” Celestia’s voice was filled with genuine regret. “It is for everypony’s benefit, including your own, that this fate must befall you.” 

“No! No! No!” Rookwood demanded, hammering away on the door. 

“Such a pity. One so young and full of promise. There is nothing I can do for you.” Celestia said. 

Rookwood heard hoofsteps as she began to walk away from his door. 

He lay on the floor, feeling too pathetic to even attempt one last clopjob. He collapsed into sobs. 
	
> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Rookwood lay in his bed. It had come to this. He wasn’t going to graduate school. He wasn’t going to have a life. Not that he had much of a life to begin with. He was practically invisible in school. He didn’t belong to any clubs, he barely had any friends, just another group of losers that he played games with and sometimes hung out with. All of them were socially inept, just like he was. It was fun playing Grottos and Goblins though. Enough fun that it was worth tolerating them. Almost. 

He had been here for what felt like hours. He was exhausted, but didn’t want to sleep. Not his last few hours. He had tried to clop a few times, but couldn’t get himself past half mast. The fear wracking his body was awful, his head hurt after having been slapped outside and inside. And now, he couldn’t even wank. 

He resigned himself not to sob, just like all of the other times he had resigned himself not to sob over the past few hours. The waiting was the worst. He wished they would just get it over with. Why wait? Where they building a scaffold? Was he to be hung? Beheaded? Drawn and quartered? Fed to rabid griffons? 

He rose up off the bed and went over to the door, banging on it halfheartedly. There would be no answer, just like the last few times he had tried it. He continued rapping. 

Nope, nothing. He returned to the bed. 



 

At some point, he must have dozed. He awoke, hearing something outside his door. Guttural grunting. Somepony laughing. Laughing! He certainly had a different view of the monarchy now. 

He rolled out of bed, onto his hooves, not intending to go quietly. 

The door open, and he charged. He ran as fast as he could, as fast as his weak legs would allow in the small room, his head lowered, his horn forward. His horn was sensitive, but he was a dead pony anyway. 

A hoof clipped him in the head and sent him sprawling back to the bed, colliding painfully with the wall. He saw four, no wait, ten to twelve bat winged pegasi in his room with him. He tried to rise, but could not. His legs failed to respond to any mental commands. 

Rookwood went quietly, being dragged down the hall, a rope tied around his four hooves, being drug along the floor. He didn’t bother kicking or struggling. There was no point. He had thought about killing himself before, he had thought about it a number of times in fact. So this was probably the best end he could hope for. He had been too much of a coward to actually go through with it the last time he attempted it. 

He felt cool night air and opened his eyes. He saw the moon. He shivered. He couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or seeing the moon, or just knowing that he was going to die. There was snow on the ground. He choked back tears. 

No, not now. Not here. Not when the end was so close. 

He was drug before a corridor of bat winged guards, all standing still as statues, unmoving, not shivering, none of them looking down at him as he was pulled along. He heard voices ahead. Familiar voices. He opened his mouth to protest, but his tongue would not work. It flailed and squirmed in his mouth, unwilling to submit to his control. 

Now, he could not even protest his treatment or curse his killers. 

He looked up and saw Celestia. 

“I stopped by your door once my sister told me what happened. I tried to talk to you. I tried to console you, but you did not respond. I guess you must have been asleep.” Celestia looked sad. 

“Are you sure this course of action is wise Luna?” Celestia said, looking heartbroken. 

Luna nodded, and gazed downward at Rookwood. There was a faint teasing look hidden in her face. Her mouth was almost smirking. Her eyes focused on him, almost looking like she was mocking him. And still, his tongue would not work. 

And he suddenly understood why. Luna’s horn was glowing. 

Rookwood tried to scream. Something seemed off. 

He kicked and squirmed, to no avail. 

“I suppose this will be what is best for him in the long run.” Celestia said, turning her gaze away from Luna, looking sorrowful. 

“This is the only course of action my sister.” Luna said, her voice a flat careful monotone. 

Confusion flooded through Rookwood. Celestia hadn’t heard him through the door. Something didn’t seem right. Nothing felt right. The cold snow made him shiver. He felt himself hoisted into the air and dropped upon a large stone table. It was cold. The ropes were gone, but he could not move. He was bound with magic, helpless, unable to stop what was happening. 

Luna stood on the table with him, but she had changed. She looked darker. Shadowy. Her lips pulled back, revealing long fangs. “Alas poor Rookwood, such a regrettable fate.” Luna said, gazing down at him. Her head lowered, her face now near his. “And now, I must end you.” 

Luna’s head snapped forward suddenly, her sharp teeth clamping down upon his windpipe. He felt her fangs break the skin. Cold, real cold, seeped into his body through her fangs. His legs kicked to life with cold fire. He could feel a heart beating in between his ears. He began to sprout an erection, rising slightly out of his sheath, before he felt himself retract and pulling back in, the cold spreading through his lower abdomen. 

He tried to scream and could not. 

He felt his own heartbeat slowing down now. He could no longer feel his frogs, or his fetlocks. 

“It will be over soon.” Luna whispered. She lay down beside him, pressing her body up close to his, wrapping a wing over his barrel, pulling him close, he could feel her warmth, but only briefly, and then he couldn’t feel her at all. He couldn’t feel her rub her cheek against his neck. He didn’t see her now sad expression. 

He couldn’t see at all. 

“Almost over.” Luna said, her voice now far away. 

He could still feel the four ragged holes in his throat. He felt precious air whistling in and out of them, causing the dangling bits of skin and flesh to flap and dangle in the breeze. 

His heart had slowed greatly. It thumped once every few seconds now. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Thump. He counted again, trying to force his brain to keep working. This time, he counted to eleven. 

“Hush now, quiet now, time to rest your sleepy head… Hush now, quiet now, it is time to go to bed.” Luna’s lullaby seemed distant, far away, he could barely hear anything at all now. “Just a moment or two more, father of my foal.” 

Rookwood felt his heart beat for the last time. It thudded halfheartedly, and then stopped with an aching sense of finality. He lay there, completely paralysed, his chest feeling empty and still. There was nothing inside of it. He did not draw breath. He was blind. 

He existed on the edge of the void. 

For a moment, everything was blackness. 

Thump. 

There was a dull aching thud in his chest. 

Thump. The void was still close. It wouldn’t take much to shove him over and send him in. He was more dead than alive at this point. He felt an odd warmth on his skin. Like being in the sun. 

Thump. 

Pain wracked his body. Terrible pain. He feared for his sanity. His mind couldn’t handle what he was feeling. It was like the summer that he had almost drowned, when he had ran out of air underwater, and had tried to breathe against his own will, drawing water into his lungs. 

Thump thump. 

There were painful pinpricks of white light in his vision now. He existed in a new universe, one where the primary element was not hydrogen, but agony. His body was constructed from his new element. He wanted to scream so badly, but nothing happened. 

Something whacked him hard on his barrel. “Breathe damn you! Don’t tell me you forgot how to do that during  the short time you were dead!” There was another bone rattling thump. 

He sucked in one ragged breath, creating new stars in his vision. The holes in his throat were gone. His heart thudded painfully in his chest now, frantic, like a caged animal trying to escape. 

He could feel Luna’s body against him, or so he thought. He couldn’t be certain. 

Something warmed his skin. He opened his eyes, the world was strangely well lit. The night sky was filled with a soft silvery glow, a gentle soothing light. He could see every naked tree branch outlined against the black sky. 

He took another ragged breath. And then another. 

Life flooded back into him. He could feel the cold stone of the table. His tongue wiggled in his mouth. His nostrils flared. He twitched his ears. He celebrated the delightful feeling of drawing breath. He heard weeping. It wasn’t from Luna, so he concluded it must be Celestia. 

“Why am I alive?” He gasped. 

He saw Luna’s face inches above his own, looking down upon him, her eyes wide with wonder, watching him, studying him intently. She was standing over him now. She seemed to be taking in every detail of his experience. His blood was still on her lips, her fangs still pink. And shrinking. They weren’t as long as they had been. 

“You are alive because I willed it.” Luna said, her starry mane whipping about. Rookwood thought he must be hallucinating. He could see the things that caused her mane to whip around. Silver streaks, motes, slivers of silver light zigzagged through the air, colliding with her mane, causing it to wave and waft to and fro. The air was filled with those silver motes. One collided with his horn, causing his entire body to jerk painfully. As his body sprang back to life, he was filled again with a powerful sense of arousal. He felt something wiggling down on his belly. Another mote collided with his horn. Something bulged from his sheath.

He had needs. An almost mindless need. His forelegs shot upwards, catching Luna by surprise. He pulled her head down and tried to kiss her, banging his snout into her muzzle, causing both of their lips to be crushed between their teeth. He tasted blood. His legs pulled tighter. He drew his tongue over Luna’s lips, licking away blood, feeling an odd electric tingle from her flesh. For a moment, her own tongue flicked out from between her lips, touching his only briefly. Her legs trembled and she lost her balance on the slippery table, her legs splaying outward. The brief tongue contact had made him quite hard. Not fully erect, but enough that he could feel the cool air on his fevered shaft. 

Luna landed upon him a moment later. He could feel the warmth of her belly, her smooth flawless flesh, tight, taught, and supple, all of it pressing down upon him. He still had his legs around her neck. She wriggled and writhed in his grip, not using her strength, trying not to hurt him. 

Her squirming body rubbed against him the wrong way and he exploded, bucking his hips upward, driving himself into the soft flesh of her belly. He fell back and went limp. 

“You just cannot help yourself, can you, you just keep taking liberties with my sister’s body!” A voice shouted, seething with rage. 

He lay there, now limp, still spurting seed against Luna’s belly. She lay there, in shock, her mouth open in a wide “O” of horror. 

Rookwood felt her hips grind downwards once, rubbing against him, before she rose up, regaining her hooves, his seed dribbling from the velvet coat of her belly. 

“I’m alive.” Rookwood gasped. 

“Not for long!” A guard warned. There was an uncomfortable amount of heat in the air, and all of the snow was melting. Rookwood could hear dripping. 

Rookwood no longer cared about dying. He’d already been dead. Plus, he had almost just had sex. It at least counted as a good dry humping at least. Whatever afterlife awaited, he could go, knowing that he had finally touched mare flesh with his now flaccid pecker. 

He let go of Luna’s neck, causing his head to drop sharply and strike the table, knocking him out cold. He went under with a broad grin. 



 

Rookwood’s head ached dully, throbbing in time to his heartbeat. He was clean, at least he felt clean, and he was in a bed. His own perhaps. He opened his eyes. The room was exceptionally well lit, one lamp on in the corner flooding the room with light. 

“It took all of my skills in persuasion to keep my sister from murdering you.” 

Rookwood sighed. He wasn’t dead. Time to face the music. 

Wait, why face the music? Hadn’t Luna tried to murder him? What had just happened? 

“What did you do to me?” 

Rookwood felt his head lifted in the warm tingle of magic and a glass was pressed to his lips. It wasn’t water as he expected, but wine. Strong. He sputtered, and then drank greedily, something in his body now on fire. 

The wine made his head feel dizzy. 

“What did you do to me?” Rookwood repeated. 

“Oh, I killed you.” Luna replied.

“Why am I here?” Rookwood asked. 

“We all ask that question. Go take a philosophy class.” Luna said. 

“Why did you grind your filly bits against me when you were getting up?” Rookwood said. 

Luna didn’t reply for a long time. “Reflex I suppose.” 

“I am still alive.” Rookwood stated. 

“You are most observant.” Luna quipped. “Would you like a cookie?” 

“Yes, actually.” Rookwood replied. 

“Well, too bad. That was sarcasm.” Luna said. 

“Look, stop playing games with me.” Rookwood said. 

“Very well then.” Luna sighed. “I may have played a little prank you on when I told you that you were going to die. It was a half truth. My sister did not know of my ruse. I performed a ritual upon you that has fundamentally changed your nature. My sister knew of my intentions involving the ritual, but not that I had told you that you were dying. I had to keep you silent. She came by to console you, and I would imagine that you had yourself some tense moments, believing that she was dropping by to console you over what you believed was your coming death. You should be thankful, you have faced a terrible fear and have been made stronger for it.”

“Ah, well, thanks then.” Rookwood said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. 

“You will no longer draw power from the sun. I have ripped away your solar nature. A creature with shadow magic cannot function under the power of the sun. You now have the night’s gift. Like I do, and like the lunar pegasi are born with. Your shadow magic will begin to manifest itself now, it will be much easier for you to summon it. And I intend to teach you.” Luna said. 

Rookwood tensed, feeling a painful jolt. 

“And that would be the sun dawning. Felt it, did you not? I saw your reaction. There is much we must discuss, but for now, we must be going to breakfast very soon. Celestia will be most upset if I am not there. Of course, she will be most upset if I bring you along, which is why I must do it. She’s been a trifle overbearing and treating me like a filly once again.” Luna frowned. “I am NOT a filly.” 

Luna paused for several moments. “By the way.” She added. “If you ever do that again, you and I will have a fun trip to Gelding Grotto, father of my foal or no. Since I am already pregnant, it isn’t like I need you to have your colt bits to be a father.” 

Rookwood gulped. 

“And you are a lousy kisser. Turn your head to the side next time you nitwit.” Luna heaved a sigh. She gazed him, her eyes blinking a few times. 

“I thought you said that if I did that again…” Rookwood’s voice trailed off. 
	
> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Celestia was a big mare, Rookwood reflected. She was the largest pony alive. She was also Luna’s sister, which made her the biggest big sister ever in all of ponydom. Being the biggest big sister ever was clearly something she took to heart. 

Like right now, as she glared at him from the other side of the breakfast table. 

Her eyes were narrowed, and she watched his every move. If his eyes left her gaze for any reason, like looking at Luna for example, Celestia would clear her throat loudly and Rookwood find his eyes compelled to look back upon the Monarch of the Sun. He wondered if magic was involved. 

Luna, for her part, was actively trying to kill him as well. Rookwood picked up on this early on. She was eating as seductively as possible. Rookwood wasn’t sure how this was possible, and he had a hard time defining seduction, but like porn or art, he knew it when he saw it. She would suck on the spoon with every bite, pulling it out slowly, causing her lips to distend as the spoon was drawn out of her tightly puckered lips. 

And there was the fruit. 

Oh by the stars what she had done with the fruit, sucking and slurping and making faces of mock ecstasy while consuming it. And she had finished with a banana. A banana of all things. That banana was going to haunt his fevered adolescent dreams, there were no two ways around that. 

And every time Rookwood had tried to get a look, Celestia had forced his eyes away, compelling him to look at her. It was maddening. It had also left him terribly frustrated. Like, very frustrated. He leaned against the table, his hind legs clenched together, hoping and praying that breakfast would never end and there would be no need for him to stand up and try to walk away. Celestia, being the biggest big sister ever, would certainly see his little problem and obliterate him. 

“Mmm, hey sister, do mares expecting foals need extra potassium?” Luna questioned, holding another banana aloft with her magic. 

Rookwood whimpered. It just wasn’t fair. 

Rookwood could actually hear the tendons in Celestia’s neck creaking as Celestia turned to face her sister. Celestia said nothing, but glared at her sister, her burning stare as intense as the sun. 

Luna gave an enticing and entirely unnecessary lick to her banana, her tongue clinging to the curvature of it, her tongue waggling up and town, the tip caressing it slowly.  Something in Rookwood’s guts lurched painfully. 

“Uh uh uh ah gah!” Rookwood stammered, jamming an entire muffin into his mouth, trying to gag his outbursts. After a few moments, he swallowed, and downed an entire glass of grape juice. 

“So, uh, you’ve severed my connection to the sun. Am I like a vampire now?” Rookwood asked. 

Celestia’s gaze once again fell up him, and Rookwood felt like what he thought a rabbit might feel like when a wolf sat staring at it. 

“No.” Luna said, nibbling her banana. “Not in the slightest. But you are nocturnal. You’ve probably noticed all of the lights seem brighter. By the way, notice anything missing?” 

Rookwood wracked his brain, trying to figure out whatever cryptic meaning Luna was hinting at. 

“You left your glasses somewhere.” Luna said, humming as she took the banana into her mouth. 

Rookwood did a double take as he realised he could see. 

“Sadly, the effect is temporary. Tell me, can you see motes of raw magic?” Luna asked, pulling an orange to her plate. She effortlessly peeled it by teleporting the skin away from the fruit within. 

Rookwood nodded. 

“You’ve been altered. Changed forever. You will no longer feel the sun. It will be a cold light, much like the moonlight was. Now, the moonlight will warm you, a gentle loving warmth that will not burn your skin like the unforgiving sun does.” Luna shot a glance at her sister. “The day will be cold. The warmest summer day will now feel like chilly winter. And chilly winter days will still feel like chilly winter.” 

“So I died and was reborn?” Rookwood asked. 

“In the simplest of terms, yes.” Celestia answered. 

“You were crying.” Rookwood said, squirming as he accused the monarch of weeping. 

“I could feel you dying and your connection to my sun being severed. It is a physical pain for me. This ritual has not been done for a very long time. I had forgotten how much it hurts.” Celestia looked sad for a moment. 

“I’m sorry if it hurt you.” Rookwood said. 

“You have no reason to be sorry.” Celestia said. “What had to be done had to be done.” Celestia was looking at him oddly now. There was emotion on her face. It flickered back and forth between pity and anger. 

“So I have this weird magic and now the remnants of Nightmare Moon wants to possess me and use my magic to do what exactly?” Rookwood inquired. 

“Shroud the world in eternal night, extinguish the sun, and rule over a dead barren world swarming with nightmarish horrors.” Luna said, licking a bite of waffle, slurping syrup with her tongue. 

“And I could do that with my magic?” Rookwood said. 

There was a painful silence as both sisters looked at him. Rookwood suddenly felt very insignificant and small. 

“In theory, yes.” Luna said. 

“You would be stopped long before you ever reached a point where you even remotely threatening.” Celestia said, one eyebrow raised. 

“So why turn me into some pony of the night and increase my power… Wouldn’t it be better to just leave me weak and helpless?” Rookwood asked. 

“No.” Luna said, jamming more waffles in. 

“Nightmare Moon would continue feeding off of your weak body and become a real threat. We cannot allow that. You are going to have to learn how to fight her. Stop her from feeding. Deny her your essence. Push her back. And my sister and I are having to take a calculated risk in allowing you some real power. You are in an odd position Rookwood.” Celestia said. 

“How so?” Rookwood replied. 

“Your cutie mark manifested before you actually had the means to exploit it. Which leads us to all manner of difficult philosophical questions. We will ignore those for the time being. Most of them. Had Luna not given you the gift of the night, you would have gone on as a unicorn with no magic, occasionally having very vivid dreams and nothing else. As it is now, you are free to fully explore your destiny, to test your power and ability.” Celestia chewed thoughtfully on a strawberry. 

“So what makes me so special?” Rookwood said. 

“Rookwood, the lunar pegasi are the only ponies who regularly use shadow magic. It allows some of them to pop in and out of dreams, to vanish in the dark, to teleport from one dark place to another, to become insubstantial, which is called shadow diving… And occasionally a clever unicorn manages to learn a tiny bit of shadow magic, to harness and manipulate the dark. Really dangerous unicorns make deals with fell creatures from other planes and tap into dangerous shadow magic. You my dear Rookwood, were born to harness the shadows, even though you began life as a solar pony. Odd beginnings. But then again, at one point, I was a mare of solar origins. I had to take a mantle of darkness upon myself to do what was required of me.” Luna finished speaking and returned to stuffing her maw full of food, eating noisily and sloppily. 

“Well, you don’t need to worry. I don’t want to be the dark lord of anything.” Rookwood said. 

“Sometimes, we start out feeling that way…” Luna said, her words trailing off, her mouth still full of food. 

“I am the most incompetent pony that has ever lived.” Rookwood said. “I screw up everything I touch.” 

Rookwood was nearly knocked out of his chair, struck by an invisible blow. He staggered, his head wobbling limply on his neck, his vision full of stars. His ears rang, full of invisible bells. There was another pain-filled strike, this one actually managing to take him from his chair. He sprawled over the floor.

“LUNA! ENOUGH! YOU ARE KILLING HIM!” 

There was third and final blow that sent him sliding and skidding over the floor and into a wall with a loud thud. Every bone in his body ached. He rolled over, pleading for mercy, his eyes closed. Something warm and wet was running down his nose, over his lips, and trickling down the back of his throat, causing him to gag and strangle. 

“Luna, sister, what has gotten into you?” Celestia was on her hooves now, her horn glowing. Rookwood saw none of this however. 

“He touched me!” Luna said. 

Celestia stood confused, shaking her head, not understanding. She looked over at Rookwood, who was in a rapidly growing puddle of blood on the floor. 

“Did he goose you or something somehow?” Celestia said, confusion and panic flooding her voice. Guards were flooding into the small dining room now. 

“No sister. He touched me.” Luna said, now sobbing. 

“Luna, make sense. Speak plainly! What just took place? I did not see him touch you! He was on the other side of the table!” Celestia’s voice rose shrilly in the panic. 

“HE SAID HE SCREWS UP EVERYTHING HE TOUCHES!” Luna shrieked, causing every ear in the room to splay wildly from the agonising volume. “HE TOUCHED ME AND I AM WITH FOAL!”

“Sister… You… I… What?” Celestia looked at her sister. Celestia’s wobbly legs barely carried her back to her chair. She sat down with a loud plop. 

“Broken nasal bridge.” A guard announced, standing near Rookwood. 

“Mommy hormones.” Celestia muttered, rubbing her head. 

“WHAT?” Luna roared. “I DO NOT HAVE MOMMY HORMONES! HOW DARE YOU IMPLY SUCH SLANDER! SHAME ON YOU SISTER FOR YOUR WAGGING TONGUE!” 

“Sister. Calm, Thy. Teats.” Celestia said, no longer caring about decorum. 

“HOW DARE YOU…” Luna said, glaring at her sister. 

“Luna, enough.” Celestia said gently. “You just broke a pony’s nose for an imagined slight.” 

“‘Twas not imagined at all.” Luna said, sniffling, her face still slicked with tears. “His words were careless and cruel. He touched me. In the most intimate of ways possible. And has left a reminder of his passing. To say that it is a mistake or somehow a failure… Unthinkable, given that I am sterile and that my pregnancy is impossible through normal means.” 

“Luna, your moods are fickle in the best of times. This is going to be an unbearably long year.” Celestia said, stilling rubbing her head, her ears aching from her sister’s outburst. 

“Get stuffed sister.” Luna spat. 

A unicorn guard lifted Rookwood with his magic and carried him from the room, a towel catching the still flowing blood. 

“Luna, sister, please, listen to me.” Celestia pleaded, trying to get her sister to listen to reason. 

“No. Go blow it out your perfect white pucker hole.” Luna said sullenly, tears still trickling down her cheeks. “You’re one to talk. You had your little moment of anger at him for believing that he raped me somehow, as if the common pony was somehow physically capable of such a thing. If I did so much as flex my tight little plot cheeks I’d rip the offending organ right off. Do you even know how insulting you are at times?” 

Celestia did not argue. Luna was still venting. And, perhaps, had a bit of a point. Not that Celestia would admit that. Not in the open at least, where guards might hear. 

“I feel very emotional right now.” Luna said. 

Celestia nodded. 

“And I worry about past mistakes.” Luna said. 

Celestia sighed and nodded again. 

“And by the gates of Tartarus, I am still hungry.” Luna said, tearing into the remainder of the fruit bowl. 

“Luna, I am more than a little worried about you.” Celestia said as Luna savagely assaulted the survivors of her earlier conquest. 



 

Rookwood drifted in and out of dreams, his mind full of fog. For a time, he was dreaming about that night he had dreamed of Luna, but instead of urging him onwards and allowing him to rut her, she had punched him in the nose, sending him flying out of the dreamscape. 

His head thudded with its own heartbeat. 

In another dream, he was reaching upwards for her, his forelegs straining to embrace her neck, to kiss her again. He was back on the stone table. Life was flooding back into his body. He needed to feel her, to touch her, to feel her warm body to assure him he was still alive, assurance that his state of existence was real. 

And again, she had punched him in the nose, sending him flying from the dreamscape. 

And then he found himself chained down to stone table. He looked around the room. It was odd, and he didn’t recognise it. The walls were dull grey stone. His chains clinked as he struggled. His head thudded and throbbed, his nose had its own explosive heartbeat slamming around inside of it. 

The ceiling was covered in mildew. He stared at it for a few minutes, seeing patterns and images. 

Near him was a long table, stretching the length of the wall, and it was covered in metal tools of all sizes, shapes, and kinds. 

“Thank you.” 

The voice was cold and sepulchral. 

“Your generous contribution has allowed me to touch reality again.” The voice stated, cold and imperious. “To shape it and bend it to my will. And now, I will take what I need from you once again. And, if we are lucky, we will find what makes you special.” 

Rookwood struggled against his bonds. 

“Why bother?” The voice inquired. “What good will that do you? You are mine here. I have taken precautions to ensure that we will not be disturbed. Not until I have what I want from you. You have been reborn I see. Shadow now courses through your blood and you are free of the accursed sun.” 

There was the clink of metal from the long table. 

“We shall begin with a base demonstration. Something to show you that I am in charge. And that you cannot and will not resist me, no matter how much you might want to, I have seen your fears.” 

Rookwood felt his chains tighten. He tried to protest, but no words came out. His mouth was forced open, his lips were peeled back. 

“I find it so amusing that so many ponies fear this common nightmare.” 

A pair of pliers hovered over his eyes, lingering in his vision. Rookwood began to sweat, his breathing increasing, his heart thudding faster. 

The pliers floated down and there was a tapping on his front teeth, as though the pliers were knocking for entry. 

Rookwood wanted to scream no. He could feel the words in his throat. 

“Please proceed my mistress. I await your loving ministrations.” 

Rookwood struggled. He couldn’t believe the words coming out his mouth. That wasn’t what he had wanted to say at all. No. No. No. 

He could feel the pliers poking and prodding, looking for something. He felt them grasp a tooth, a molar. He felt pressure. There was a soft tug. 

“And now, we shall begin. I am well aware of what you are thinking right now. Your mind is laid bare. You are barely even worth my notice, you worthless lump of flesh. But you do have something I want. And when I am done, you will beg to give it to me.” 

The pliers clenched and began to pull. Rookwood screamed inside of his own head. His jaw strained at the socket. The pliers squeezed, trying to get a better grip. The pressure intensified. 

White hot pain flooded through his mind. He saw starbursts in his vision. His ears heard an orgasmic moan escaping from his open maw. 

And that was perhaps the worst of it. He was her plaything. His entire body was bent to her will. The sounds of his own pleasure unhinged him. 

The pliers pulled and tugged, and then twisted slightly. They squeezed, straining for a better grip, trying to pluck the molar free. 

There was an odd crunching sound as the molar shattered under the vice like grip, fragments of his tooth tumbling down into his throat and causing him to choke, the sharp shards cruelly cutting into his flesh. A shattered stump of his molar was left in his gums. His tongue rolled over the sharp remains. There was a searing pain as his tongue was sliced open from the protruding shards. 

“Whoops.”

The pliers clamped clamped down terribly upon the remaining shards and exposed nerve. There was a tug, and more of the molar’s remains broke off. 

Rookwood heard his explosive orgasmic moans echoing off of the walls. He felt his mind tearing. 

With a terrible ripping sound, the remaining fragments were torn free, leaving a gaping bloody hole in his gum. Blood trickled down into this throat and Rookwood was forced to swallow or drown. He could hear his own orgasmic gurgles. 

“That was the stick. Would you like to try the carrot? Does my little pony want a carrot?” 

He felt his head nod. His throat was flooded with blood, far too much to allow speech. 

“We shall get to the carrot in time my precious little pretty pony. I promise you. But first, I require more of you.” 

He saw her now. In his vision. A black shadowy alicorn. Terrible. Beautiful. He felt an odd sense of arousal. He could smell her. Smell her desire. Her musk. She was quite aroused herself. 

“Perhaps when I am done with you, if there is enough left of you, you could give me a foal, as you have done my mirrored counterpart. Your magic would certainly allow it. Would you like that? I think you would.” 

She leaned in close, her nose inches away from his sheath, sniffing. 

“Ah, the sleeper awakens. You would like to help me with my own little sterility problem I do believe. I shall have to be careful as I extract what I need from you. Once I have what I need, I can take a little something else as well, an unexpected extra if you will… And then I can discard your disgusting pathetic remains and be done with you.” 

There was a clink of metal. 

“It has been so long since I have fed.” 

He felt something tickle against his flesh, just below his ribs. Something cold and metallic. 

“This is almost like cutting a cake. Only you must be so much more careful.” 

The sudden pain in his side was blinding. He could hear the flesh being cut open, the metal blade biting deep. A long incision was made. His mind balked, almost unwilling to accept this reality, and then the barriers broke as his mind accepted this reality and all of its horrors. 

He felt something enter his side, delving in, probing. And then something else. He was pulled open slightly. The pain was indescribable. Something probed his insides. 

His own lusty gurgles as he continued to gargle his own blood threatened to unhinge whatever was left of his mind. 

“What makes you special? What lies inside of you? You and I are going to find out. An odyssey into your innermost places. And the best part is, you cannot die here. I will hold you together and see you through. Do you see yet, what is in store for you? I will show you such great secrets.” 

He felt something in his insides tearing and pulling, his organs shifting suddenly within this abdomen. The pain shot upwards into his throat, and downward, into his testicles, causing explosive waves of pain that crashed upon the shores of his very being. There was a wet squelching sound as something was pulled free from inside of him.

“Ah, fresh meat. Liver. Full of blood and the essence of life.” She tore a piece free from the bloody chunk held in the grasp of her magic. He could hear her eating him, the wet sloppy sounds of her feasting upon his flesh. Her lips smacked. 

Something warm, wet, and slippery was pressed between his own lips. It was salty. He found himself chewing against his will, his mouth still filled with blood, which he was forced to keep swallowing. And now, his mouth was filled with the taste of his own liver. 

Rookwood felt something in his mind tear a little more. 

“There there. I have taken something else from you. Something you can never have back. You now know the forbidden pleasure of devouring flesh. In this case, your own. ‘Tis a shame Luna took your dreaming virginity. I could have had so much fun with that. So, we have played, we have dined sumptuously, shall we continue with our date? Such a pity there is no chaperone to protect me from your base desires. You want to take liberties with my body, do you not? Do you have a need for conquest? Do you seek to rid me of my fragile innocence? I desire to be rid of it, perhaps you can help me out of this terrible situation.” 

Nightmare Moon tittered fiendishly. 

He could feel hot breath on his sheath once again. Very much against his will, he felt himself becoming aroused. 

“They say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” 

Her words tickled him as he emerged, growing, spreading. His tongue felt greasy and slick, still covered in the taste of his own liver. His jaw ached, the gaping socket where his molar had been flared like white hot iron. 

He felt the warm tingle of magic upon him, pulling and tugging, trying to encourage just a little bit more blood flow. His brain began to flood with images of Luna. At first, they were the hot and heavy images of Luna, when she had been in his dream, her seductive and sultry stare urging him on. But then her face became distorted and weird. Stretched in odd ways, Now her expression was one of tender concern. Of worry. Her eyes were piercing. Her lips were moving, and she was saying something. He could not make it out. Was this a dream within a dream? 

He snapped back into the current nightmarish reality. 

Nightmare Moon almost had him in her mouth. He could feel her tongue coiling around his shaft. Her lips teased lightly over his turgid flesh. 

“Rookwood?” 

That wasn’t Nightmare Moon’s voice. He had heard it in his head. 

“Rookwood, hold on, I am so sorry!” 

Nightmare Moon now had him in her mouth. He could feel her fangs. His hips bucked upwards, surprising her. He could feel something deep inside of him grow weaker. 

Nightmare Moon sank one fang into a throbbing vein along the side of his penis, opening him up, flooding her mouth with blood. She drank, gulping down the crimson liquid. 

The effect was orgasmic. Rookwood drifted close to the edge, with each slurping suckle she made upon him he was that much closer to blowing his load. Something inside of him was growing weaker, but he did not care. 

He was on the brink now. He felt a tongue slide roughly along his shaft, licking away blood. So close. He felt his legs stiffen, His back tensed painfully. 

“AWAY WITH YOU YON BITCH OF TARTARUS’ FILTHY SLAVERING HORDES!”

The world around him exploded painfully, and Rookwood felt his consciousness rip and tear. He felt a painful burning ache in his balls. He had been right at the edge. He could hear a gurgling scream and he realised it was his own, he was once again free to voice his own thoughts, not the puppet voice of the one who had been controlling him. His body was racked with agony from one end to another. 

He was in a bed, and something was on top of him, bearing down on top of him, trying to restrain his flailing limbs. He heard soothing cooing. His body was on fire, ablaze, and his breathing was ragged and shallow. 

He felt the warm body above him pressing against his own. His nose thudded with its own hammering heartbeat. He opened his eyes and saw flashes of blue. 

There was a warm humid heat between his body and the body above him. Something velvety and smooth brushed over his tumescent cock. 

He heard an orotund shout but could not make out the words. 

He came explosively, painfully, feeling as though there was a thunderous kick to his balls. Ragged raging pain ricocheted through his body as his seed blasted forth. 

He heard a startled cry as he went rigid, his body becoming as solid as stone for a moment, and then he went limp. His legs stopped flailing. He sank into the bed with something heavy on top of him. His belly and his barrel felt moist and sticky. His nose boiled with pain. 

“Nnf.” Rookwood grunted, opening his eyes and trying to keep them open. 

Luna was above him, pinning him down. Her horn was pressed against his. 

“Rookwood?” She asked, looking terrified. 

Rookwood felt himself release one final explosive spurt, his body tensing one last time. He gurgled, his body going limp again. 

“Rookwood, speak to me this instant. Is your mind intact?” Luna’s voice was commanding. 

He flenched away from her. 

“I will not harm you. You have suffered enough. And for this, I am sorry.” Luna’s eyes were wide with concern and shared pain. Her belly clung stickily to his own. 

She rolled off of him, onto her own side, and pulled him close, her horn still touching his. 

“I saw everything. I tried so hard to reach you. I could not. I could not keep you safe.” There was very real pain in Luna’s voice. “I saw everything.” Luna repeated. 

Rookwood gasped and struggled to breath. His tongue flicked around his teeth, looking for the empty socket. All of his teeth were there. He ran his foreleg down his side. No slashing incision. 

His belly, still covered in his own seed, was exposed to the air now, and he could feel a cooling breeze trailing over his sticky pelt. He had retreated back into his sheath. 

He became aware of Celestia staring down at him. She was scowling, her own face full of fear and anger. One nightmare had just ended, and now, a new one was beginning. Rookwood twisted and turned, trying to cover his shame. 

“Every time you and my sister come near you slather her in your seed.” She said, her voice a flat monotone. 
	
> Chapter 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“I am really sorry for breaking your nose. I still do not know what came over me.” Luna whispered. “What you said bothered me on some deep level. I suppose I took it personally. Celestia says it is hormones.” 

Rookwood squirmed in the infirmary bed. 

“You shouldn’t consider your self such a failure.” Luna stated, her voice now hard. “I saw what happened in your dream. Many ponies would have broke under that sort of mental strain. You proved to be quite resilient. Nightmare Moon is having to take what she wants by force. You should feel at least a little pride.” 

Rookwood took a deep shuddering breath. 

“Look, I said I was sorry about breaking your nose. Please say something.” Luna pleaded. 

“Something.” Rookwood replied. 

Luna scowled. 

“What do I say?” Rookwood said. “Do I lecture your royal worshipfulness, oh ye of the high and mighty plotcrack about how awful you are for breaking my nose?” 

“Well, yes!” Luna said, real emotion flooding into her voice. She squirmed in her chair, shifting from side to side, her hind legs twitching. 

“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.” Rookwood uttered, his voice dripping with contempt.

For a brief moment, Luna’s face contorted with actual pain. 

“So will I ever be able to sleep again?” Rookwood asked. 

“That is actually a very good question.” Luna said. “Sadly, I do not have an answer. But I do have some concerns.” 

“Like what?” Rookwood replied. 

“Like Nightmare Moon dragging you from the waking world into the her own private dreamscape. She’s fed off of you. She has some real power now. She is no longer a lurking shadow there to scare ponies. She’s roaming the dreamscape and feeding off of my other subjects now. The lunar pegasi are going to be very busy.” Luna’s voice was cracking from emotion with each word she spoke. “And I will be busy as well. Helping others, helping you, I need to figure out how to deal with this. And we need to start with our lessons. I will be your instructor.” 

“Great. School all over. I get to have wet dreams about my teacher.” Rookwood said. 

Luna flushed, turning a dark violet. 

“You should get some sleep. I know that sounds scary, but you really do need the rest. I will put you under. I will also try a few wards to make sure she can’t reach you. I will have several guards posted close by to sense if something is wrong. But you need to sleep. A restful sleep.” Luna looked at him imploringly. 

Rookwood opened his mouth to protest, but it was too late. He felt himself slipping, falling away from the waking world. He also felt something else. Something different.Something warm enveloped his body. There was a feeling of security and peace. 

Rest now Rookwood. I have bound you within my will. Perhaps this will keep you safe.

Rookwood felt and heard Luna’s voice inside of his head as he tumbled out of physical reality. 



 

Rookwood knew he was dreaming. He was becoming all too aware of the signs. He trotted through a stone fortress. There were suits of armor along the passageway. His hooves made no sound as he walked. He felt warm and secure. 

He came to a large library and paused, looking around at all of the books. There was a massive fireplace along one wall. An enormous log burned in the grate. A charcoal grey male alicorn that he did not recognise snored in a large wing backed chair. His wing feathers had dark dull purple tips. He was large too, larger than Celestia. 

He snored like a dragon, drowning out the loud cracks and pops of the log in the fire. 

Above the fireplace, there was a painting. There was a dark orange alicorn mare and on each side of her sat an alicorn foal. One dark blue, the other as white as snow. Both of them looked very familiar. The snow white filly had a pink mane. The dark blue filly had a soft powder blue mane. Both were smiling and leaning against the dark orange mare. There was a placard under the painting. 

“Aurora Diluculo.” It stated in a flourished engraved script. 

Rookwood had no idea what it meant. 

The snoring charcoal grey alicorn snorted loudly, and for a brief moment, Rookwood worried that he might wake. Rookwood then remembered, he was dreaming. And more importantly, he felt safe. There was no sense of danger here, no sense of malice or dread. The only thing remotely spooky here were the cobwebs in the corner. 

Rookwood pressed through a door in the back of the library and found himself in another long hall. There were many doors on each side of the hallway. Some were open, others were closed. Adorning the walls in between the doors were paintings of alicorns. White ones. Black ones. Alicorns of every colour and description, many of them in regal noble poses. 

Rookwood gasped seeing the paintings. How many alicorns had there been? And why were they gone? He checked the paintings again, looking for both wings and horns. 

Yes, he thought. These were most certainly alicorns, and they were all gone now. 

As he walked carefully down the hall, he thought he heard sobbing. A faint cry. He heard hoofsteps. Faint soft hoofsteps off in the distance. He ducked behind a statue, peering out into the hall. He saw a small alicorn filly. She was white. Her pink mane bobbed with each step, and her tail swished from side to side. 

She looked frightened. 

Dread began to fill Rookwood. He desperately tried to determine if he felt safe, and he could no longer tell. He gnawed on his lip in nervous agitation. Had he been suckered into a sense of false security by Nightmare Moon? 

Perhaps. 

He did not discount the notion. The white filly disappeared through a door, and, when she did, Rookwood followed. He poked his head through the door and saw a short passageway leading to a small chamber, and in the chamber were three doors. The white filly went through the one on the left. 

His hooves made no sound as he pressed forward. The sobs grew steadily louder. His blood ran cold, nearly frozen, icy tingles running up and down his spine, like freezing rain on his pelt. He felt so cold that his balls began to retract and prickle. 

“Luna, what have you done?” The voice was nearly sobbing, full of fear and pain. And then he heard it, a second set of sobs added to the first. 

Rookwood pushed his head through the door, his ears perked, listening. 

In front of him he saw two fillies, one white, the other blue. There was no mistaking who they were, he could see their cutie marks. Luna was on the floor, sobbing, writing in pain, her backside covered in blood, jagged slashes in her pelt, wide bloody gashes around one of her cutie marks. 

“Luna, why would you do this?” Celestia cried. “Why? Why would you try and cut off your mark? Don’t you want to raise the moon?” 

The smaller blue filly continued to sob, blood pooling on the floor. Celestia pulled a blanket from the bed and pressed it down upon Luna’s bloody backside, her own sobs wracking her small barrel. The room had a few carved wooden toys on the floor, several little dolls, including one dragon doll. The ceiling was painted with stars. 

“Luna, I don’t understand.” Celestia bawled. “What is so bad about the moon?” 

“I’m not worried about the moon!” Luna shrieked. “Look around the moon! Back there!” 

Celestia lifted the now bloody blanket, looking Luna’s backside. “Just a black patch Luna, filled with a few stars.” Celestia said, now sniffling, trying to become calm for her sister’s sake. 

“The dark!” Luna squealed. “The dark Tia! I am SCARED of the dark! I don’t want my destiny to be the dark. I am so afraid Tia, please I don’t want to face the darkness, I’ve seen what’s in it!” Luna began to shriek and scream wordlessly as Celestia tried to console her. 

“It hurts!” Luna cried. “I couldn’t carve it away. I tried to carve it away and I couldn’t.” 

“Luna you just got your cutie mark just this night.” Celestia said in a hoarse voice. 

“I don’t want it!” Luna screamed. “Make it go away Tia, please make it go away!” 

The little blue filly was almost hyperventilating now. 

“I can’t!” Celestia shouted. 

“I don’t want the dark to get me!” Luna pled. “My destiny is the dark and I don’t want it!” 

“I will not allow the darkness to have you!” Celestia said. He voice seemed more familiar now. Not quite so squeaky like other fillies. “I will bring light Luna. I will not let the darkness take you!” 

“Do you promise?” Luna cried, sniffling, wiping her nose with her tiny foreleg. 

“I promise Luna, I will keep you from the darkness.” Celestia said. 

“Luna!” Rookwood gasped, unable to be silent any longer. 

Celestia whirled on him. “You!” She spat. “What are you doing here? This is private!” The filly Celestia spoke with the adult Celestia’s voice now. 

“GET OUT!” She shouted. “OUT!” Her horn flashed and Rookwood’s brain recoiled. He wondered how much more psychic trauma he could endure.





Rookwood awoke in a bed, next to a large body. A very large body. 

Celestia’s body in fact. He squirmed and kicked, trying to get away, moaning in terror, his broken nose throbbing. He was having trouble breathing. 

Celestia’s hind knee rammed him sharply in the balls and then a follow up kick to his stomach launched him out of bed. He fell to the floor with a thud and a high pitched keening wail of anguish, his balls feeling crushed and broken. He heard a scream and couldn’t tell if it was his own or not. It might have been. 

“Rookwood?” Celestia cried, her voice filled with concern and fear. 

He felt himself being lifted. Tears began to flow. 

“Rookwood I am sorry. How are you here?” Celestia said as the doors opened and a flood of guards entered the room.

“Stay back!” Celestia commanded. “I am fine.” 

There were dozens of guards around her bed now. Rookwood felt himself being pulled close, and then suddenly, his word was white. He felt a leg around him. He felt comforted. Safe. 

“Oh Rookwood, I am sorry. But when I realised you were in my bed, I panicked. I’ve seen what you’ve done to my sister. Please forgive me.” Celestia pulled him even closer. 

“Leave us.” She commanded, her voice no longer smooth nor commanding. It sounded weak and fragile. “How much did you see?’ She whispered. The guards silently began to exit, their armor clanking, their hooffalls heavy. 

Rookwood felt crushed. His body was pressed tight against Celestia’s, his face buried in her neck. He tried several times to say something, and couldn’t. 

After crying for several minutes, he finally muttered: “Everything.” 

“I couldn’t keep my promise.” Celestia said, her voice catching and cracking several times. “The darkness came and I lost Luna to it.” 

Rookwood’s balls had their own heartbeat now. They thudded and throbbed painfully. They hurt even more than his nose. 

“Are you alright?” Celestia asked. 

“No.” Rookwood squeaked. 

The door slammed open and Luna entered. “Is he safe?” She demanded. 

“Scared.” Celestia said, her voice shaky. 

“He did he get in here?” Luna questioned. 

“No idea. I think he came here physically in a dream.” Celestia said. 

“Celestia kicked me in my colt bits.” Rookwood squeaked in a high pitched voice. 

“Why?” Luna said. “Why would you do that sister?” 

“He wakes up with explosive ejaculation usually!” Celestia said, her voice still wavering. “I didn’t want it on me. And I was scared. I woke up frightened. I was having a bad dream.” 

“That seems understandable.” Luna agreed. “Which dream Celestia?” 

Celestia said nothing. 

Luna fell silent. 

“I saw everything.” Rookwood said, his voice like a hoof being dragged down a chalkboard. “I’m not telling anypony. I wouldn’t dare.” 

“Thank you.” Luna said. 

Rookwood felt Celestia pulling him even closer, and kissing the top of his head. When she did so, something ignited in Rookwood’s fevered brain. It blazed brightly, right behind his eyes, right behind his horn. His body tensed and he trembled. 

“Does it still scare you?” Rookwood said, his voice a squeaky whisper. 

“The fear has never gone away.” Luna said. 

“You weren’t just alone in the night.” Rookwood said. “You were scared and alone in the dark. And nopony wanted to be with you. It makes a lot more sense now.” 

Luna went and sat down in a chair. 

Rookwood squirmed free of Celestia’s grasp. He sat up and slid from the bed. He crossed the room in a bow legged gait, his testicles throbbing painfully. He cautiously approached Luna, his head low. 

“We have a better chance of beating her if we face her together.” Rookwood said, nearly screeching. “It broke my heart seeing you like that.” 

Luna said nothing but began to cry. 
	
> Chapter 7 *
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	It was very difficult to concentrate. Luna made it very, very difficult to concentrate. She lounged, languidly on her bed, sprawled on her stomach, her hind legs splayed outwards and her hips twisted to allow both of her legs to be kicked out to her left side. He could see the rise and fall of her barrel. Her eyelids blinked slowly, almost lazily, one ear drooped off to one side. When she spoke, he could see little glimpses of her orange tongue. 

The room reeked of jasmine. And other things… 

“Rookwood?” 

Rookwood snapped back to attention. 

“You keep becoming distracted. Worried about something?” Luna inquired. 

“Uh, yeah.” Rookwood lied, shifting his body, trying to lie on his belly a little more. He was on a large couch, some distance from Luna. 

He could see her lips moving. She blinked. Her eyelids moved as though they were heavy, dropping rapidly, staying closed for a moment, and then rising as slowly as the moon did from the horizon. He felt a pleasant warmth. He felt… Like his body wasn’t quite as solid. Luna had been able to coax him into shadow form only once so far, and she had assured him that he was making excellent progress. He looked down at his own foreleg and realised he could see through it. Faintly. He could see the stitching in the couch cushion through his own fetlock.

He looked back up at Luna, not really caring about his accomplishment. 

The graceful curve of her neck, the way only one ear drooped slightly when she was relaxed and calm. If he cocked his head to just the right angle, he could almost possibly see something… Something of a great deal of interest peeking out from between her legs, hidden in the shadow of her smooth graceful and curving belly. She didn’t have her shoes on. Her crown and breastplate sat on a wooden shelf. 

“Rookwood, would you like to be rutted by a dragon?” 

“Um, yeah.” Rookwood said, not really hearing any words, far too distracted by what he was looking at. He was drinking her in with his eyes. 

“Good. I shall go and summon a dragon at once.” Luna said, no longer smiling. 

“Er, what, wait… Uh, no!” Rookwood said, suddenly understanding what had been said, his brain bringing certain very important details to light. 

“Am I really that distracting?” Luna said. 

Rookwood struggled in silence, not sure what to say. An honest answer might be an awful idea, lying was certainly an awful idea. He chose to be bold. 

“Pop inside my head and find out.” Rookwood said cockily. “I doubt you could imagine my point of view otherwise.” 

Luna giggled softly, causing her feathers to rustle. Rookwood felt something else rustle. Right as Luna vanished. He squeezed his eyes shut, cursing his body for choosing the worst possible time to become highly aroused. 

“Uh, Luna, changed my mind, I am probably a little too distracted, now is not a good time…” He felt himself slipping from his sheath slightly. 

He also felt a tickle in his ear. 

He tried to think of something, anything, to shut himself down. 

The first image that came to mind was a recreation of something he had seen in Playcolt magazine, a mare wearing socks with her tongue dangling out. Only he didn’t see the mare. He saw Luna. 

Socks? Luna’s voice inside of his head said. Socks? Why socks of all things?

He felt something rustling around inside of his brain, he could actually feel his thoughts being moved around, as though they were boxes or something to that effect. Luna was rummaging.

You were trying to sneak a peek at my filly bits.

Rookwood closed his eyes and resigned himself to his fate. He let everything go. 

Much better. He felt a hot heat along the back of his neck and behind his ears. Oh my! Even as I am poking around inside up here, you are poking out down there...

Well, that is certainly interesting. He could feel Luna humming to herself as she continued to poke around inside of his skull. Oh, that’s kinda sweet.

Oh!

He felt the now familiar tickle in his ear. A wisp of shadow drifted out. Luna slowly rematerialised on the bed, gazing at him intently, her face looking rather emotional. 

“Well, that was certainly educational.” Luna remarked. “Would you like to come sit on the bed with me so we can talk?” 

Rookwood’s face ignited as he shook his head no. 

“And why not?” Luna said. “I know what you want.” 

“Uh, well, erm, ah, eh, oh, it wouldn’t be proper…” Rookwood flubbed. 

“You see, I know that you actually think and believe that, but I also know what you want.” Luna said. She smiled faintly. “I had forgotten how sweet young love can be. And what can I say, I am driven mad with desire by your pronunciation of vowel sounds.” 

Rookwood failed to laugh. He choked instead. He coughed several times, his nose aching painfully. Celestia had healed it, but it was still oh so very tender. Celestia was a bit friendlier now, something he knew would change if he even thought about climbing onto Luna’s bed. 

Celestia had a way of knowing things. 

“Come here Rookwood. It is alright. I have seen your feelings. You do not see me as some mere conquest or a prize. I have taken a number of consorts in the past… All of them who only viewed me as a prize to be won. I have never actually been wooed. I am intrigued by your infatuation.” Luna smiled a soft welcoming smile. 

“Somepony must have loved you.” Rookwood said in disbelief. 

Luna shook her head sadly. “No. I entered into a couple of marriages, all of them for political gain. Posturing. I was bragging rights for the politically minded. A conquest. A plaything. And I had to degrade myself and allow it to happen for the benefit of my little ponies, whom I love. I became so bitter from it, as did my sister. We have sworn off of marriage.” 

“But… But… But you are beautiful. Surely somepony loved you.” Rookwood stammered, fearing that at any moment his ears were burst alight. 

“The last male pony who loved me was my father. And he made my first arranged marriage.” Luna said, her face suddenly dark and angry. 

“It wouldn’t be right for me to get on the bed with you. We don’t know each other well enough. It would, uh, be awkward. I thought you were supposed to take time and stuff. Or wait until marriage like all those royal service announcements in the papers say.” Rookwood licked his dry lips nervously. 

“Oh sweet innocent Rookwood. Do you not remember the night we met?” Luna said, smiling again, her one drooping ear now flicking slightly. “You rut on the first date.” 

“I don’t want you for a plaything!” Rookwood stammered. “I, uh, well, I saw you in Celestia’s dream. As a filly. And something in my heart broke. And I felt really really bad. And then I realised how awful it must have been and then somewhere in the middle of thinking about all of that, I sort of started to get feelings for you. Odd feelings. Weird feelings. I, uh, um, er, I didn’t just want to know you in a physical way, I actually wanted to know you.” Rookwood explained, stuttering, his tongue feeling dry and sticking to the roof of his mouth. 

“I know. I’ve seen.” Luna replied. “I know how you feel. Which is why I am telling you, put these hang ups aside and come over here. Perhaps I can relieve some of your tensions and then allow you to concentrate afterwards.” 

“I don’t know about this.” Rookwood said again. 

“Rookwood. My noble and valiant knight. Out to woo the princess and protect my virtue.” Luna said, giggling. 

“Don’t make fun of me!” Rookwood shouted angrily. 

Luna’s head snapped back. 

“Nopony ever takes me seriously!” Rookwood shouted. 

“I was making light of the situation we find ourselves in. I was not making fun of you. I apologise if you took it as such.” Luna looked at him, her face now blank, concern visible in her eyes. “I am inviting you to my bed because I DO take you seriously. I have seen the innermost recesses of your mind.” 

Rookwood closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. 

“Rookwood, your life depends on your ability to concentrate. If I can help clear your mind of distractions so I can teach you, I will.” Luna said. 

“So it is a study aid, nothing more.” Rookwood snapped. 

“No,’ said Luna, “that it is not. I have your foal in my belly. It is my intention to raise this foal, with you, as a family. And at some point, you and I have to work out some manner of familial arrangement between the two of us, and decide what is best for this foal to be.” 

Rookwood suddenly felt very stupid. He hadn’t even thought about that. 

“I have to keep you alive. I want for my foal to have a father. I have to teach you how to survive. How to fight. How to use your shadow magic. And your potential as a unicorn is limited only by your desire and ability to learn. So… Getting your scrawny little plot over here in my bed is well within my best interests as well.” Luna’s tone was logical. Straight forward. And more than a little commanding. Her patience was clearly wearing thin. 

“Celestia will murder me.” Rookwood said. 

“She might.” Luna admitted. “You’ve seen how much she truly loves me, for all of her faults.” 

Rookwood slid off the couch. He stood there, stiff legged, scared out of his mind. 

“I do not understand why you are so shy. You have already been with me, at least in dreams, and have climaxed against my flesh a number of times now. So why not inside of me for once?” Luna’s logic was irrefutable. 

Rookwood gulped. “So, um, are we going steady?” 

Luna tittered, which turned into a giggle, which turned into a guffaw. A single tear rolled from her eye. She took a moment to regain her breath. She thumped her bed with her hoof. 

“Well, are we?” Rookwood said, feeling very confused. 

“I am planning a family you puddinghead. Do you really think I am going to go ‘steady’ with you or go on a date with you, or any of those temporary and mostly meaningless things? Do you think I’d jeapordise my plans for my foal to have its father? I am glad I peeked inside your head and that you allowed me to look into all of those private thoughts of yours. Makes what I have chosen to do that much easier.” Luna beamed broadly. 

A dreadful realisation settled into Rookwood. “We skipped the going steady stage I guess.” 

Luna nodded. 

“Does Celestia know your plans?” Rookwood asked. 

Luna nodded again, smirking this time. 

“And I take it I have no choice in this matter.” Rookwood said. 

Luna shook her head no. 

“Right then. Time to pony up and be a stallion about what I’ve done then.” Rookwood said, feeling faint and kind of nauseous. He took another step towards the bed. 

“Shouldn’t I be wooing you? You know, buying you chocolates, flowers, little porcelain figurines of cute adorable teddy bears?” Rookwood said, stalling for time. 

“There’s plenty of time too woo later. Right now, we need to work out your frustrations and get your mind right. Think of this as a practical concern.” Luna said. “Now get over here, while we still have most of the night left. NOW!” 

“I am about to crap myself I am so scared.” Rookwood confessed. 

“Why?” Luna said. “I don’t bite.” 

Rookwood stared at her wide eyed, beginning to sweat. 

“Well, that one time.” Luna said dismissively. 

“Well, you are an older mare. Experienced. And, uh, I’m worried I will disappoint you or that you will laugh at me. And I am not exactly hung like a horse. Or even a pony.” Rookwood said, flushing with embarrassment. 

“You can blow an impressive load though.” Luna deadpanned. “I can honestly say that in my long life, I have never been so drenched.”

A desperate flame of arousal ignited in Rookwood’s loins. 

“Uh, what about protection?” Rookwood said. “Like in all those royal public announcements.” 

“I cannot become more pregnant.” Luna said, rolling her eyes. “Our foal is going to ride the short wagon to school. Now, Rookwood, allow me to say this nicely. Over here… NOW!” 

Rookwood bounded the last few steps and carefully climbed up onto the edge of the bed. He lay on his stomach, hugging the edge. Luna lie in the center. He tucked his hind legs under his belly, trying his best to hide his growing excitement. Thankfully, it was easy to hide. 

“Come closer.” Bade luna. 

Rookwood crawled closer on his belly, which was a horrible idea. Something dragged over the silken bedspread, causing a terrible tickle. 

“No matter what happens tonight, no trips to Gelding Grotto, right?” Rookwood pleaded. 

“We shall see.” Luna said. “Now, shall we try a little kiss?” 

Rookwood leaned forward and closed his eyes., He remembered to tilt his head to one side. 

Nothing happened. He waited patiently. 

Still nothing. 

He opened his eyes, and saw Luna gazing at him, biting her lip, her eyes half closed. Her gaze was smouldering. 

Suddenly, he went from being Rookwood to RookWOOD. The sudden growth caused him to rub against the bedspread. His tail twitched.

He scooted forward a little more, leaning forward, his heart thudding painfully. His mouth was painfully dry. Something else though seemed to have plenty of moisture. He hoped he wasn’t leaving a snail trail on Luna’s bed. 

He was close enough to feel Luna breathing on him. Her breath smelled like the strawberry wine she had drank earlier. He leaned in a little closer, sniffing, smelling, his nose a scant few inches away now. Luna hadn’t moved away from him. She lay there, waiting. 

He turned his head to one side again, eyes open this time, and gently pressed his lips against hers, gingerly, fearing he might bump his tender muzzle a bit too hard. 

Luna pressed back, gently, softly, kneading her lips against his, breathing hot breath into his mouth. One ear flickered against his own, sending a cascade of shivers though his body. Luna’s lips opened slightly, and he felt her tongue tease against his lips, the softest touch, just the very tip of it. 

He pressed himself forward, scooting body closer to Luna, His tail tossed from side to side. 

Her tongue tickled his lip again. He pulled his lips open slightly, and Luna’s tongue darted in, touching his own. He felt hot, and his breathing came in ragged gasps. He was having a little trouble breathing actually. He felt light headed. His body tensed. As he pressed himself into the kiss, he could feel the tip of his throbbing knob rub over the bedspread.

He felt himself explode. 

Luna’s head jerked back. “Did you just…” 

Rookwood hung his head in shame. 

“Wow, do I have the goods or what?” Luna crowed. 

“Huh?” Rookwood said, utterly confused. 

Luna was beaming, her broad flat teeth visible, she radiated happiness. 

“I don’t understand.” Rookwood said, shaking his head. 

“I’ve only ever been a prize or a conquest.” Luna explained, still smiling. “Most of my encounters the stallions could not get off until they had shamed me, humiliated me, and degraded me. They made sure to make me understand that I was their possession. Not the object of their affection. And I had to endure it. Like my first marriage that my father arranged.” 

“So you are not mad? Or disappointed? I mean, the bed…” 

“I made a school colt blow his load with a kiss.” Luna said, licking her teeth seductively. “I feel like a goddess.” 

Rookwood shook his head. “I don’t understand.” 

“I am the object of affection and desire, not a trophy.” Luna explained. 

“I still don’t know that I understand.” Rookwood replied. 

“Tell you what. When you can properly shadow dive and begin to enter other ponies heads, I will show you around mine and allow you to feel it from my perspective.” Luna offered. 

“Alright.” Rookwood agreed. 

“Now kiss me.” Luna said. “Make me feel wanted.” 

Rookwood leaned in, this time a bit more eager. He gingerly kissed Luna, kneading his lips against hers, mindful of his tender snoot. Perhaps his sore nose was an advantage he thought, dragging his tongue over Luna’s front teeth, trying to figure out where to go next. 

The kiss went on for quite some  time and Rookwood felt himself turning into RookWOOD again. He felt himself throb when Luna’s tongue pushed itself over the roof of his mouth. 

She pulled back and way with a loud smack, breaking the suction. “What you lack in experience, you make up for with genuine eagerness.” Luna said. “I must confess, I like this feeling.” She planted a quick peck on his cheek, leaving a damp spot. “So…” She said in seductive tones. “What now?” 

“I have no idea.” Rookwood said breathlessly. 

“Well, the bedding is already a little soiled, I say we make a mess  worth cleaning.” Luna said, rolling over supine. She trailed her left front hoof down from her neck, dragging it over the graceful curve of her barrel, along her breastbone, and it stopped over her navel. She poked her own belly once, twice, and then a third time, gently and carefully. “If I asked you to do something for me, would you?” 

“Anything” Rookwood agreed, breathlessly. 

“I have never, ever, in my long life, ever been kissed… ‘down there’.” She pointed downward with her hoof. “I have experienced it in dreams. I have heard about plenty of times. But all of those who have had me have never once stopped to lap upon my loins.” 

Rookwood bit his lip, his brain filled with fire, his body shuddered. He took a deep breath, trying to assert control over his body, determined not to go off again. After a couple of almost painful moments, the shivering urge passed, leaving him sweaty and breathless. 

Luna raised up her right hoof and nibbled on the edge, while lazily making a circle on her low navel with the other. 

Rookwood exploded violently, his hind legs bucking crazily, his plothole clinching up violently. He nearly bit through his lip. The bed was now more than a little damp, it was thoroughly soaked under his groin. 

Luna giggled. “I seem to have developed a new talent.” She began to writhe on the bed, scooting her backside towards him. Watching her wiggle and squirm, her back arching and her plot flexing was already having an effect on Rookwood. 

And then, she lay before him, her legs still folded together, hiding herself from view. “Are you sure you don’t mind” Luna said, back to nibbling on her hoof coquettishly. 

Something wiggled between Rookwood’s belly and the now slick bedspread. He couldn’t make any words come out, no matter how hard he tried. So he did the only thing he could do. He licked his lips nervously, hoping to moisten his mouth enough to talk. 

Luna took his lip licking in quite a different way however, pulling her legs open, shyly, slowly, letting out a nervous giggle as she did so. 

And there it was. It wasn’t pink like he thought it would be. Her lips were swollen, thick, and they glistened with moisture in the golden glow of the light in the room. They were a deep dark purple, the colour of fine wine. 

And the scent wafting up to his nose made him go half hard all over again. 

“I don’t know what I am doing.” Rookwood gasped, his throat dry as a desert. 

“Just be gentle.” Luna cooed. “And no biting. There is a little fleshy nub hidden in the folds. Watch out for it, it is sensitive. I am trusting you not to hurt me.” 

“Where?” Rookwood said awkwardly. 

Luna pointed down with her hoof, nearly touching her own skin. “Right about this area. I am very, very sensitive there.” There was a faint tremour of fear in Luna’s voice.

“Did something happen?” Rookwood said, suddenly very nervous. 

“Somepony hurt me there once, to punish me for being willful and insolent.” Luna confessed, her expression pained. “They used magic. Afterwards, when I was willful, they threatened to do it again.” 

Rookwood felt a brief surge of anger. He opened his mouth to say something, but Luna shushed him. She pointed downward with her hoof, winking at him. 

He took an experimental lick. Luna shrieked and he pulled back, scared out of his mind, immediately going soft. 

After a moment, he realised that Luna was laughing. 

“It tickles so!” Luna said. 

He tried another lick and Luna’s hips wiggled, her back arched, and she tried to wiggle up the bed, away from him. He wrapped his forelegs around her hips and pulled her back, taking another long lick, starting low and slow, and working upwards. He felt his tongue slide over two different openings. 

The effect on Luna was profound. She was crying with laughter, completely unhinged, biting down on her hoof savagely. Her whole body writhed and wriggled in his grasp. He licked again, pushing downward, getting some traction and spreading her open a bit. 

Luna thrashed her head about and flailed the hoof she wasn’t chewing on the bedspread. Her eyes were squeezed shut. Her cheeks were slick with tears. 

He licked again, this time getting some real penetration, and then working the way deep into the groove, working upward. His tongue slid over a tiny nubbin of flesh and he felt Luna’s legs nearly tear his head from his body. She quivered and shook, nearly crushing him to death, making tiny cries and whimpers. 

Rookwood panicked, fearing he had hurt her. 

After several minutes, she relaxed, going limp. Rookwood pulled his head back. 

“Luna?” 

There was no answer. Cold sweat formed on Rookwood’s hide. 

“Luna please, talk to me, did I hurt you? If I did, I swear I’ll throw my self from the tallest tower in Canterlot.” Rookwood pleaded. 

He felt Luna’s thighs clench again on either side of his head, her dock flexing. “Rookwood.” Luna moaned. 

“I am so sorry Luna.” Rookwood sniffled. 

“Your Princess demands you to do that again. Just as before.” Luna’s voice was low and husky, and her breathing was irregular. 

Rookwood took a deep sigh of relief, his breath blowing over Luna’s now somewhat swollen folds. The purple colour had darked. A bright dribble of golden moisture trailed from the bottom of her swollen slit, oozing towards her pucker. His breath caused her to tighten up again, and a moan escaped her lips. 

He pressed his tongue against the base of her dock and drew upwards, pressing down with considerable pressure, his tongue gliding over her pucker and slurping up the golden droplet. He continued upward, dragging and pulling upwards as he went, stretching the taut skin. He paused mid lick, and made a little circle in between her pucker and her slit before continuing. Her legs clenched around his head, and she rolled her hips, pulling him up and along her folds by his head. She rocked her hips back downwards, pushing him back, and then began to draw him upwards. 

He pulled his tongue in. Luna moaned. 

“Oh why must you stop now of all times?” She cried. 

“Because I am trying to get you off. And you took over. I wanted to have fun with you.” Rookwood explained. 

“Oh, very well.” Luna said, her tone exasperated. She relaxed her legs slightly. 

Rookwood resumed his licking, starting low, moving slowly, and easing his way upward. Based on Luna’s reaction, he knew he was on to something. 

He pushed his tongue in deep, wondering how far it would go. 

“Right now your tongue in the most valuable treasure in the kingdom.” Luna moaned lustily. “While you may not be hung like a horse, your tongue is a powerful asset.” Luna whimpered, her cries becoming intense. Rookwood felt himself growing painfully hard. 

He pulled his tongue out, and then stabbed it back in, plunging deep. Luna wiggled and giggled under him, moaning and giggling in alteration. He continued to stab in and out with his tongue. And when he felt her tighten and clench around him, he slid along her inner walls, dragging upwards and over her delicate and tiny nubbin again. 

Luna screamed bloody murder and very nearly broke his neck. 

As Rookwood lay there, trapped between her legs and seeing stars, he wondered what the guards would do to him. Luna screamed again, this time even louder than before. Her body shook and shivered. A flood of runny sticky liquid oozed from her folds, flooding his mouth, running down his chin and neck, some of it even going up his tender nostrils, nearly drowning him. He gasped for air, his hot and laboured breath blowing over Luna’s still exposed almost purple-black love button. 

Luna screamed again, this time almost making Rookwood go deaf. 

His breathing continued, hot and heavy and fast, as Luna’s legs threatened to rip his head free from his neck. Finally, he wiggled and turned away, trying to blow his breath someplace else rather than Luna’s love button, trying to ease the mare’s frenzied throes. 

As he turned, his lips brushed over one of Luna’s pebble hard nipples, making the poor mare shriek like a banshee. Her legs spread wide for a moment and Rookwood took the opportunity to free himself from Luna’s clutches. 

She writhed on the bed for a good five minutes, her limbs seizing. 

It took a while for her to catch her breath. She was panting, her tongue hanging from the corner of her mouth. 

“Gaaah!” She moaned.

“Rookwood.” She gasped breathlessly. “I’d imagine you are raring to go. Slide up onto my belly and seek release. But be gentle. I am so sensitive right now.” 

Rookwood crawled between her legs, up over her belly, and draped himself over her barrel. He held up most of his weight with his wobbling forelegs. He could feel Luna’s heat permeating his groin. He looked down between his front legs, trying to line himself up. He thrust forward carefully, banging into Luna’s belly, causing her to giggle. She was ticklish all over down there. He made a mental note.

He tried again, grunting, thrusting dowards. He was in her folds now, but not in the hole. He felt himself collide with her throbbing love button. Luna began to shriek and wail all over again, her hips bucking and thrusting upwards, making Rookwood stab her again several times, never actually finding entry. 

Her hooves pulled on his shoulders now, pressing him downward. He rocked downwards a bit, and pressed in again, prodding her between her engorged slit and her pucker hole. Luna guffawed and yelped from the poke above her pucker. 

Neither one of them heard the click of the door.

“Luna, I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d come by an… AAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGH! LUNA WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” 

Rookwood was entirely too overstimulated. Hearing Celestia’s voice, he panicked. The sudden adrenaline rush caused him to ejaculate explosively, blasting Luna once again with his seed, with Celestia getting a view from directly behind. 

Celestia stood, frozen, in shock, watching semen dribble around her sister’s pucker. Guards began to flood the room now, the muffle spell now broken with the opening of the door. 

Rookwood blew another load from the adrenaline flowing through his body, and then collapsed on top of Luna, who was still deep in the throes of her own orgasm. 

He contemplated his own death, still never having actually penetrated a mare. 
	
> Chapter 8
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	It was another awkward breakfast. 

Rookwood slouched at the table, withering under Celestia’s fiery gaze. Any goodwill she had towards him now seemed gone. Luna was sitting beside him, destroying a plateful of fried hash browns. There was a palpable tension in the air. It was almost painful.

“Well Luna, you certainly are chipper this morning.” Celestia said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She shot her sister and Rookwood both a dirty glance. 

“Yes I am.” Luna said, beaming, her mouth full of hash browns. 

Rookwood whimpered and popped a grape into his mouth. 

“I feel like a goddess.” Luna said, sending hash browns dribbling out onto her plate. She shoveled them back in, along with a few more bites. 

“Technically, you are the Goddess of the Moon.” Celestia said in a painful ear burning monotone. 

“Maybe.” Luna shrugged, shoveling in a bite of cottage cheese and pineapple. “But as of right now, I am the Goddess of the Bedroom. The Moon Goddess of Fertility finally found her groove.” 

Rookwood could hear Celestia’s teeth grinding. 

Luna beamed. “Actually, somepony else found my groove and did something pleasant to it.” 

He  cowered a little more and ate another grape, wondering which bite might be his last. It was snowing. He could see it through the window. It was so much harder to dig a grave when the ground was frozen. Celestia would probably burn him alive for the sake of convenience. 

Luna grabbed the bottle of maple syrup, pulled off the cap, pressed the bottle to her lips, and began to chug the mostly full bottle of syrup as Celestia watched in abstract horror. 

Glug. Glug. Glug. 

Rookwood started to place a foreleg around Luna, looking for some kind of comfort, but Celestia stopped him with a cold stare. She shook her head no. Rookwood dropped his foreleg. 

Glug. Glug. Glug. 

It was almost a rhythmic sound.

Glug. Glug. Glug. 

Luna set the bottle down, now drained. 

She pulled her lips back, whacked herself in the barrel with her own hoof, and let fly a burp that blew the a napkin off of the table and made the tableware rattle alarmingly. A glass nearly tipped over. 

Luna was completely oblivious to her sister’s stare. 

She turned her head, leaned over, and planted a sticky syrupy kiss on Rookwood’s cheek. 

The room became unbearably hot. Rookwood began to sweat. He nervously nibbled an apple, staring at Celestia with wide eyes. 

Luna lifted the entire pitcher of orange juice and made it disappear in a few swallows. “‘Tis a bit warm in here.” Luna remarked. “Must be mommy hormones.” She began to eye a pitcher of milk. 

Celestia’s eye twitched frantically. 

“Celestia, can I have that stick?” Luna asked.

“What stick would that be, sister?” Celestia replied. 

“The one jammed up your plot right now.”  Luna said, no longer eyeing the pitcher of milk but lifting it to her lips. She emptied it in a few swallows. 

“Luna!” Celestia snapped. 

“Make peace with it Celestia. You knew this was coming.” Luna said, now scanning the table for consumables that she could devour. 

“What has been seen last night cannot be unseen.” Celestia said. “You are my baby sister.” 

“The baby sister you arranged a marriage for to secure more troops to hold back the griffons. I was married to a horrible grunting pig of a pony whose idea of a good time was getting drunk and pissing the bed.” Luna did not meet her sister’s eyes as she spoke. 

Rookwood carefully slid a plate of scones toward Luna. Orange peel and cranberry, extra tart. 

“Oh! How considerate. Just like last night!” Luna said, stuffing a scone into her maw. “Always looking out for my needs.” She said around a mouthful of scone. 

Celestia’s eyes bulged, her lip curled in a snarl. 

“Celestia.” Luna said. Her tone was cold. None of her playful demeanor remained. “Stop now. I mean it. I regret nothing about last night, but I do regret every marriage I’ve been in. I have found a cure for my loneliness, please, allow me to be happy.” 

Celestia’s gaze softened and she slumped. She stole a scone using her magic, before the entire plate was gone, and nibbled the edge. She stared at Rookwood, her stare now softened slightly. 

“You had better make her ridiculously happy.” Celestia hissed. “She’s suffered enough.” 

Rookwood gave a slow nod. “Do I have your blessing?” 

“No. Not until you take your lessons seriously and show some real progress.” Celestia glared at him balefully now, having found a different reason to glare. 

Rookwood bravely took the last scone and began to eat it. 

“I would take Equestria to war for some coconut milk right now.” Luna said absentmindedly. She froze, biting her lip, and then banged her hoof into the table. There was a sharp supersonic crack of flatulence that pealed and squealed off the cushioned chair. 

Celestia’s nose crinkled. “Luna!” She scolded. 

“Do you want me to tell Rookwood the story about the night you ate a gallon of guacamole on a dare from Twilight Sparkle and Cadance?” Luna inquired. “And then you polluted the sleeping chambers of the third annual princess slumber party?”

Celestia turned pink and let out a whinny. “That’s not playing fair.” 

“No bucks given.” Luna replied. She was scooping orange marmalade out of a jar and into her mouth. “Needs something. Maybe pickled beets.” 

“I once ate a dozen bean burritos at the Burro Burrito Bar.” Rookwood announced. 

“How?” Luna said, poking him with a hoof. “Where did they go?” 

“Out my pucker and into other ponies lungs. I went to a Hearth’s Warming Eve pageant not long after.” Rookwood said, grinning sheepishly. 

Luna laughed riotously and banged her hoof on the table. Rookwood heaved an enormous sigh of relief when he heard Celestia chuckle softly.

Rookwood yawned. It was getting harder and harder to stay awake in the day. 

Luna poked him again. “You’ll be coming back to my chambers. For your own safety.” She whispered. 

“I have invited your parents to come and have breakfast with us.” Celestia said, causing Rookwood to choke mid yawn. 

“W… w… what?” Rookwood stuttered. 

“Well, it seems only proper. You two are in a state of courtship.” Celestia froze when she said the word courtship, visibly squirming. “ Yes, you two are in a proper state of courtship, I felt that it was only right to invite your parents over. I thought we could share a nice breakfast together and make some formal announcements.” 

“Oh this is bad.” Rookwood wheezed, feeling his lungs beginning to compress. Panic gripped him, and panic’s grip was ferocious. 

“It cannot be that bad.” Celestia deadpanned. 

“Oh, you have NO idea!” Rookwood said, now beginning to freak out. 

“Let me guess, your father ignores you while he reads his paper and your mother is overbearing and protective, refusing to allow you to grow up?” Celestia stated while Luna divided and conquered a plate full of jelly biscuits. 

“Oh, I wish!” Rookwood said. 

Celestia raised an eyebrow. 

“My parents,” grunted Rookwood, “are the most uptight ultra-conservative right wing ultra authoritarian group of ponies you have ever met.” Rookwood whimpered, his face beginning to sag. “Sex before marriage is a sin they believe should be punishable by castration. They’ve had sex exactly once. And that was to make me. And they tell me this every chance they get. To make me feel guilty. My mother tells me all about the shame and agony she and my father had to endure to make me and continue society.” Rookwood was on the verge of hyperventilating now. “And they are fierce anti-monarchs. They long for the glory days of Unicorn confederation rule, a return to a collection of republic city states, all ruled by a good and proper unicorn. And they hate me because I have no magic.” 

“But you have magic.” Luna said. “In your tongue.” She shivered, causing her teeth to clatter together and her ears to splay.  

“Ugh!” Celestia grunted, looking sharply at her sister. “Rookwood, you do have magic. Powerful magic. Magic that some unicorns would make pacts with fell beings to achieve.” Celestia said, still recoiling from her sister’s untoward comment. 

“Do you know what my parents viewpoints are about forbidden magic?” Rookwood said, slumping backwards in his seat. “My father will want my horn removed. My parents are going to want me fixed  at both ends.” Rookwood uttered a whimpering cry. 

“Look, every colt and filly your age believes that their parents are horrible tyrants.” Celestia said patiently. “And it passes when you grow into maturity and see that they are only trying to do what is best for you.” 

Rookwood nodded. “Yeah, you tell me that AFTER you meet my parents.” His eyes were wide with frantic fear and he trembled now. 

Celestia sighed and made a dismissive gesture. 

“I require slumber.” Luna announced, yawning, her long orange tongue dangling out. “‘Twas a long night and I am tired.” 

Luna’s horn flashed. She and Rookwood vanished, leaving behind a loud pop, leaving Celestia alone to survey the damage. Luna had destroyed the breakfast table. 





Rookwood was vaguely aware of the sounds of retching. He could hear it. His odd new internal clock told him that the sun was still up, and to stay hidden under the blankets. Thankfully, the window in Luna’s room was covered in heavy drapes. Luna was still suffering from ‘evening’ sickness. It was probably late afternoon or early evening, the sun still up. But wouldn’t be much longer. 

He roused himself from the bed, stumbling and staggering over the floor. Thankfully, no embarrassing wet dreams caused him to soil the currently fresh bedding. He had tried to keep a respectful distance from Luna, worried about his now diurnal, formerly nocturnal, emissions. He banged snoot first into the bathroom door, causing himself to cry out in pain. He saw stars. His vision was blurry. He needed his glasses again. He kicked the door latch with his front hoof, and pushed the door open. 

He saw Luna hunched over her throne, her outline blurry. 

“I swear, as long as I live, I will never eat maple syrup ever again.” Luna gasped, her barrel heaving. Her wings fluttered as she dry heaved a few times. “Go away Rookwood, get out.” Luna said weakly. “You should not see me like this.” 

Rookwood ignored her. He gazed around the bathroom, having been in here the night before, before going down for breakfast. They had to clean up after their encounter. They had showered. 

Rookwood was now looking bleary eyed at the enormous tub. He could hardly see it, but that didn’t matter. Tubs were tubs. He found the handles and kicked one, sending water pouring in. HOT water. He kicked the cold faucet and made a few adjustments. 

Luna was dry heaving now, nothing left to throw up. She continued to hug the bowl, her ears both drooping low to the sides of her face, her eyes now bloodshot. Rookwood could see none of this however, and even if he could, he wasn’t stupid enough to screw up a good thing by saying anything. He had, by extraordinary circumstances, found his way into the bed of a beautiful mare. All he had to endure was a long dead nightmare goddess that wanted to torture him and a bit of barf breath. 

All in all, a fair trade. 

Luna looked over at the tub, waving a hoof and shaking her head no. 

“I want to go back to bed.” She gasped. 

Rookwood utterly failed to pay attention and began herding her towards the tub, poking her with his hoof. She protested and sputtered, her ears still clinging to the sides of her face, her sides still rising and falling rapidly. Rookwood threw his chest into her and scooted her along the tile floor, bumping her along. 

She sat on the edge of the tub and looked down with a resigned stare. She stepped in, hissing as she settled into the water. Rookwood moved to the tub’s edge, tripped over the raised edges of it, and fell face first into the pool of nearly scalding water. 

“Our foal will be the epitome of grace.” Luna said dryly, which was strange because she was soaking in a tub and was very very wet.  Rookwood rose up from the water with a gasp. 

“So… Rookwood, do you plan to ravage me in my current woeful condition?” Luna inquired. 

“Do you want me too?” Rookwood said, rubbing his nose. 

“Never mind. I was trying to be funny, and I forgot I was dealing with a colt. All that is required to get you in the mood is a pulse, correct?” Luna raised an eyebrow. 

“Pretty much.” Rookwood agreed. “Or a breeze. Or the sway of grass on a summer day, the way a filly flicks her tail, the sight of a quivering ear, living, drawing breath, take your pick.” 

“You have a sense of humour.” Luna stated. 

“I try. Keeps the bullies from beating the crap out of me sometimes if I make them laugh.” Rookwood replied. 

“So you have a quick tongue. In a variety of ways.” Luna said, relishing her double entendre. 

Rookwood nodded. 

“You and I are alike in a lot of ways.” Luna said, settling into the water. 

“I am a complete loser.” Rookwood whined. 

“I grew up in my sister’s shadow, having to impress my parents enough to draw them away from her accomplishments. I was scrawny. Skinny. And small. I am nothing compared to my sister’s physical form. I was considered stunted by alicorn standards. My father had to pay a stallion a considerable sum to marry me. The stallion wanted my sister, but she was already married. He had to settle for second best. I was socially awkward. No matter how I tried, I could not fit in. And then my cutie mark came, and I was resigned to darkness. That did nothing to help me in life. I was a very miserable mare.” Luna said, swishing a hoof through the water. 

“But you are beautiful.” Rookwood said. 

“And you are a colt. Every mare is beautiful.” Luna said, blushing. 

“But really, you are beautiful.” Rookwood said. 

“You may find this to believe, but a lot of ponies did not share your viewpoint. I constantly had to hear about how beautiful and radiant my sister was, and how homely I was.” Luna frowned. “One even went so far as to tell me that my blue colouring was an advantage, keeping me hidden in the night, away from view. He was my third or fourth husband. I’ve lost track. He was entirely forgettable.” 

Rookwood sat there in shock, his mouth open. 

“So I understand your pain Rookwood. I tend to love the outcasts, the unwanted, the undesirables. I visit them in their dreams and guide them to better things. We develop a strength that most will never know.” Luna settled into the tub, sliding back and down, submerging into the water for a moment, before re-emerging and resting her head upon the edge. Her ethereal mane was gone now, having turned into a powder blue mass of wet tangles that would have reached down to her hooves had she been standing. 

Rookwood felt his heart skip a beat. 

Luna’s wet ears were plastered to her head, one to the side of her face, the other to the back of her skull. Her eyes were closed. She was impossibly beautiful. 

“Do not soil my bathwater.” Luna said, not opening her eyes. 

Rookwood leaned back in the tub, submerging himself, feeling the heat of the water against the heat of his own skin, he stayed under for nearly a minute, feeling the soothing heat on his snoot. He came back up with a gasp, reclining back and resting his head on the edge of the tub, in much the same way as he saw Luna doing. 

“Tonight, after the sun sets, I will expect a fair level of performance from you. And not in just a sexual manner. If you want to bed me, tonight you will shadow dive and you will listen to a lecture on basic shadow manipulation. And I do mean listen. I will be asking you questions to see if you are paying attention.” Luna’s voice was relaxed, she sounded much better than she was a little while ago, hunched over the toilet. 

“I can shadow dive.” Rookwood said, melting in the water. “I really am trying.” 

“I know.” Luna replied. 

“I could see though my leg last night before you called me into your bed.” Rookwood said. “I was too distracted by your beauty for it to mean much though. I kept looking at how you were blinking.” 

“I know.” Luna returned. “I saw. I suppose I was very distracting. I will be even more so tonight when I don socks and begin to test your concentration.” 

Rookwood laughed. “You’re funny Luna.” 

“Violet, navy blue in the colour of my own pelt, and black. Stripes. Inches wide. Leg length.” Luna commented. 

Rookwood gulped. He valiantly tried to jam that mental image from his mind. He failed. Something stirred in the water. 

“And right about now, you should be feeling the first hints of arousal. Keep in mind what you must do to satisfy your itch.” Luna’s tone was teasing. 

“Keep in mind that I can scratch your itch.” Rookwood said. “And that I know where your jelly bean is and what to do with it.” 

Luna squirmed in the water, causing a splash, and sending waves through the tub. “I am not the one that needs to quickly learn magic in order to preserve my own life.” Luna said breathlessly. “I am trying to entice you into learning to save yourself.” 

“I know,” replied Rookwood, “and I appreciate that. I’m only teasing a little bit, just like you are. I intend to take my lessons seriously. I have a foal to raise and a mare to look after.” 

“So there it is then. A faint glimmer of maturity.” Luna said, squirming through the water. Rookwood felt her slide near him. “Do you do this out of a desire to impress me?” 

“Yes.” Rookwood answered honestly. 

“And what of yourself?” Luna asked. 

“What about me?” Rookwood replied. 

“I did not ascend to immortal status out of a need to impress others. I did it for my self, to better my self, to pull myself out of a terrible series of events that was my life.” Luna said, now side to side with Rookwood. He could feel her wet mane clinging to him, the soft wet feathers of her wings against his side. 

“My rebirth into shadow…” said Rookwood, his voice pensive, “what did that do to my life? How long will I live?” 

“Not long enough.” Luna said, her voice sad. 

“So at some point, I sucumb to old age and you will stay forever young and beautiful?” Rookwood inquired. 

Luna did not reply. 

“And the foal. will it be like you?” Rookwood said, his voice imploring for an answer. 

“Doubtful.” Luna said, her voice gravelly with sorrow. “But Rookwood, you will live a long life. The more you infuse yourself with shadow, the more you slow down the physical draws on your body with the consequences of living. You do not age while cloaked in shadow. Time stands still. So if you want every precious moment to last, you will do well to pay attention to your lessons and what I have to teach you. How much time do you want to spend with me?” 

“As much as I can.” Rookwood whispered. “So every time I screw up and fail to pay attention is a precious moment lost. I understand.” 

Luna made a sad sighing sound but said nothing. 

“I understand how important it is to apply my self. I will not disappoint.” Rookwood said. “Were it in my power, I would stay with you forever and keep you company in the night, holding the darkness at bay. The idea of immortality scares the piss out of me, but you would be worth it.” 

Luna pressed closer to Rookwood, their bodies pressed wetly together. “Be mindful of your words Rookwood. I understand your heart’s intent, but you do not know the terrible torture you would have to endure if somehow you had to live up to your words. To watch everything you know and love die, withering from age while you remain the same. To watch rivers slowly carve canyons out of riverbeds. To see mountains become hills, eroded with time, to watch continents shift and settle, to see a shoreline change as the ocean eats away the land.” 

Rookwood felt a stabbing pain in his chest. 

“I would brave all of that.” Rookwood said. 

“You are young and foolish and immature!” Luna snapped. “You do not understand the unspeakable agonies of watching time pass while being trapped outside of it.” 

“I am young. And I am rather stupid. I am terribly immature. None of that matters. I’m also in love. I think. I don’t know. And that does matter. Everything else, not so much.” Rookwood said, rubbing his chest with a hoof. “Everything will sort itself out. It doesn’t matter what I say anyway. Time will have its way with me.” 

“And tonight, if you do well on your lessons, I will have my way with you. I suppose I shall have to guide you in though.” Luna commented. 

“And lock the door this time.” Rookwood said, settling into the water, enjoying the soak. 
	
	
> Chapter 9 *
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“Relax. Keep calm. And stop trying to breathe. You do not need air at the moment.” Luna’s voice echoed through Rookwood’s form. He wasn’t even sure how he could hear her, as he didn’t have ears at the moment. And he could see in all directions around him. 

Which was odd, because he didn’t have eyes. 

Luna’s socks were distracting. 

He made himself think about Nightmare Moon yanking out his molar. That focused his attention. He felt an odd sense of exhaustion. He was tired. Something was wrong. 

He burst back into physical form, his flesh pierced by thousands of piercing needles. He cried out and whimpered a few times, collapsed upon the floor, now heaving and sucking in air, 

“Almost a full ten minutes. There are quite a number of lunar pegasi who cannot boast that accomplishment. You show promise.” Luna’s voice was jubilant. 

“P-p-p-pain.” Rookwood spat and sputtered. 

“I know.” Luna said. “The body doesn’t like being held in shadow. And returning can be quite painful as the body has to reorient and remember how to function for life again.” 

“It is like dying each time.” Rookwood gasped. He struggled to his hooves and ran to the bathroom. He hit the door, causing it to slam open. He barely made it to the toilet. 

He puked for several minutes, heaving until his stomach was sore. He rinsed out his mouth with warm water and cleaned his face. 

He emerged from the bathroom. Luna was nowhere to be seen. He could sense her though. Something in his brain pointed… To the corner of the room. He turned his head. The corner was empty and the sensation was gone. He scanned the room. He felt a tingle in the root of his horn when he looked at the bed. And then, the tingle was gone. He resumed his scanning. 

Each time he would lose his sense of direction, he would look until he felt a tug inside of his mind. The process became faster and faster. His flesh burned with a thousand fiery pinpricks. He did his best to ignore it. Shadow and flesh didn’t always get along, and this was the price to be paid. 

Finally, Luna appeared again. She was sweating slightly. “Amazing. There are maybe a dozen lunar pegasi who can sense me when I am shadow diving and it takes them a long time to focus. Having a horn makes a significant difference. And pulling these socks into shadow takes a lot of effort. I am getting a workout tonight.” 

“Oh, I plan to work you out later.” Rookwood panted. He collapsed upon a couch, panting, his breath ragged in his throat. One of Luna’s shoes suddenly hurtled towards his head. He saw it, his eyes flinched shut, and he waited for the impact, which never came. 

It lay beneath him on the couch. He could see in all directions. Luna was smiling. He collapsed back into physicality, landing upon the shoe. He grunted, squirmed, and finally kicked the offending shoe off of the couch and onto the floor. 

“You shadow dove reflexively.” Luna remarked. “Most impressive.” 

“You chucked a shoe at my head!” Rookwood accused. 

“A shoe this time.” Luna teased. “An anvil tomorrow. Flirt with me at our own peril.” 

Rookwood’s mouth fell open. “And you would too. I thought we are a couple.”

Luna nodded. “And there is more to shadow than just defensive gestures. And there is more to being a couple than just being together. There is the chase. The ever so delightful chase. I have seen it between others and I crave it for myself. And I desire to be chased. I desire that freedom. I wish to be wooed.”

Rookwood looked at her inquisitively. 

“You can make shadow solid. There is magic, like the black touch. I do not know your full potential, but I do believe it will be second only to my own. Lunar pegasi are held back from extraordinary magicks because they do not have a horn, and other unicorns who gain shadow magic, it is never truly a part of their nature. You have the gift of night, and you have a talent for shadowmancy.” Luna seemed distracted as she spoke. 

Shadowmancy. It was a new word for Rookwood. He allowed it to roll around in his brain. “So you are telling me, I can make shadow solid?” 

“You may someday.” Luna responded. “It is very difficult. If you can, it will become most helpful in battle. You can cloak yourself in shadow, which will change your appearance, causing all those who are weak willed to look upon you and feel fear, and the shadow essence surrounding your body will protect you physically as well.” 

“Shadow cloaking?” Rookwood asked. 

Luna shimmered for a moment, becoming darker. And then darker still. Her appearance changed, her eyes becoming slitted. her pelt turning black, the black spreading like spilled in. She radiated a soothing energy that Rookwood could feel coming off of her in waves. A part of his logical mind told him that others would be feeling sheer terror right now where he felt comfort. 

And then Rookwood screamed when he saw Nightmare Moon. 

He managed to compose himself after a few moments of nearly losing his mind in panic. Luna shimmered again, becoming translucent. 

“Sorry.” A voice boomed, from everywhere all at once and nowhere in particular. 

Luna’s hazy outline became three pegasi in skin tight black body suits. And then she shimmered again, turning into a gleaming white copy of her sister, completely free of any shadowy taint. It would be impossible to tell the difference. 

“I can be in two places at once.” Luna’s voice was everywhere in the room. 

Two versions of Celestia appeared, one by the door, the other near Rookwood. And then they winked, flashing away, and were gone. 

The room filled with Lunas. All wearing socks. 

Rookwood felt a painful tug, but shoved it out of his mind and tried to concentrate. 

One by one, the Lunas began to wink away and disappear. 

“You should save one of those for when we are in bed later.” Rookwood said as casually as possible, causing Luna to turn a dark ruddy purple all along her neck and face. 

“I have never thought of that.” Luna admitted. “You pervert.” 

“Hello? Me… Horny hormonal colt. You… Beautiful mare. Goddess of Night. What do you expect me to do exactly? You have been inside of my head and apparently liked what you found.” Rookwood blushed, feeling himself becoming quite heated. 

Luna cleared her throat. “You may find that you will even be able to levitate and manipulate items like quills and books using solidified magic. Your abilities are only limited by how much effort and will you posses. And then there is dream magic, which is bound within shadow magic. We shall have to deal with that as well.” 

Luna lounged on the bed, rolling over on her side, kicking all four of her legs out. She held her head high. She did nothing to hide anything from view. “Now. Over here. And your hooves are not to touch the floor. Not once. It is well past midnight. Other versions of my self are combing through the dream realms. Many lovers snuggle tonight under the covers, holding the winter’s chill at bay. I can feel their happiness and wish to partake in my own.” 

Rookwood took several moments before falling into shadow. He willed himself over towards Luna, nothing happening. He pushed again with his mind. 

Something in the core of his cloud popped and the room shifted. He was suddenly above Luna’s bed. And physical. He came crashing down, bouncing slightly on impact. 

“Shadow winking.” Luna said, before Rookwood had a chance to say anything. 

“OOOOOOOOOoooooooooowahowy.” Rookwood moaned, rubbing his head. 

“The pain will pass.” Luna said, kissing his cheek. “Now down to business. As much as I like kissing you, I am hoping to have some of you left to enter inside me this evening. So how about we skip to the part where you be a gentlecolt and we right to where you relieve me of my tensions, and then we’ll try relieving yours. And try to hold back Rookwood. It really is all about concentration and control.” Luna rolled over and lay supine, sprawling out, rubbing her belly with a hoof. 

“Your wings were as stiff as boards last night when I had you on your back. Are they really sensitive?” Rookwood asked. 

Luna nodded. 

“I suppose there is a fine art for preening or whatever it might be called.” Rookwood said, now blushing and looking at Luna’s wings. 

Luna nodded again. 

Rookwood pressed his mouth into the underside of Luna’s wing joint and exhaled sharply. 

Luna’s reaction was immediate. All four of her legs shot up into the air, kicking and waving. She exploded with laughter. 

“I am far too ticklish for that.” She said, taking several minutes to calm enough to speak. 

“You seem very ticklish.” Rookwood said in what he hoped were menacing and evil tones. 

“So I am to be tortured then, for your amusement.” Luna said, rolling her eyes. 

“Well no, not if it actually hurts you.” Rookwood said in a small voice. 

“I was teasing.” Luna teased. 

“I still don’t know the rules to this game.” Rookwood admitted. 

“Oh, those are simple.” Luna whispered. “Always, always stop if a mare says no. And the reverse is true as well. To often we abuse the trust of those we love, even with something as seemingly innocent as tickles. We tickle, and tickle, and continue to do so, even as those we tickle plead for us to stop. We may not realise it, but in those moments, we violate trust. And then it becomes a little bit easier to move on and violate trust in other ways. Eventually, ponies stop saying no, knowing it does them no good, and all manner of violations take place. Consent may not be given, but the inability to refuse is not the same as consent.” 

Luna looked ashamed for a moment, turning away. 

“What is wrong?” Rookwood asked. 

“I have violated your trust. I have broke your nose. Now, I am a fount of moral advice. And I do not deserve to be.” Luna said, not meeting his gaze. 

“And you played that horrible prank on me.” Rookwood added. Luna squirmed. 

“I am sorry.” Luna said, looking uncomfortable. 

“I am kind of glad you played that prank actually. I’ve been thinking about it. Character building I suppose.” Rookwood smiled, running his chin over Luna’s belly, pressing his chest against her side, just behind her wing. 

“My moods are always fickle. Lately, more so.” Luna explained. 

“You are as changing as the moon eh?” Rookwood said, waggling his eyebrows. He pressed a hoof against her cutie mark. “So maybe tonight I’ll do a little waxing while you’re waning.” 

Luna failed to hold back a flood of teehees and giggles, batting her eyelashes, her forehooves pressed together above her barrel. She blinked at him a few times. “I am still yours if you will have me. 

Rookwood nuzzled his nose over her belly, feeling her soft silken coat. He heard her giggle, her body tensing. Last night, he had lain between her legs. Now, he was going to try it from the side, curious about a new angle of approach. 

“Shouldn’t I at least kiss you a few times?” Rookwood said. “Start things off right?” 

“And get yourself over-excited?” Luna said. 

“Uh, I am about to become over-excited any second now.” Rookwood said. 

Luna snorted. “The poor maids.” 

Rookwood planted a kiss on Luna’s navel, finding the shallow indentation of her belly button. He let his breath flow in and out, blowing over the fine short hairs of her coat. Luna’s breath began to race, her breathing picking up the pace. 

“I did not know my navel was so sensitive.” Luna said, now breathing heavily. “Nopony has ever paid much attention to it.”

He began to plant a line of kisses, starting at her breast bone and working downward. Luna wiggled beneath him. He drug his lips over her blue pelt, working his way back upward, and then began to travel along her rib line. Luna kicked a hind leg. 

“It is like being in love for the first time.” Luna murmured. “Wait, I think it might be.” 

Rookwood said nothing but continued planting little pecks anywhere he saw fit to place one. He worked his muzzle downwards, pressing into the soft webbing of flesh that connected Luna’s thighs to her lower belly. 

“Oh, how you tease!” Luna said, her back arching, lifting away from the bed. 

Rookwood stole a glance between Luna’s legs. She was certainly getting in the mood. He sniffed. Suddenly, he was very much in the mood himself. Luna’s legs suddenly squeezed together and she kicked her hooves through the air. 

“It is almost like an itch down there.” Luna whispered. 

Rookwood brought his right hoof around and ran it up the curve of Luna’s backside, moving in a slow zigzag. He pressed his lips down, breathing heavily into the flesh between her now swollen folds and her navel. Somewhere in there, was life. 

Life that he was responsible for. 

Responsibility. 

He teased a hoof just above Luna’s tail as his mind raced. Luna’s wings flared, the tip of her wing dragging along his side as it sprang outward. Rookwood giggled, causing him to inhale and exhale sharply, his nose still pressed against Luna’s warm curved stomach. 

Luna was panting now. A trembling hoof touched his shoulder. 

He pressed in with his hoof, working in a slow circle just above her dock, around her pucker but never over it, and then began to gently nibble and pull on Luna’s now dark and purple folds using his lips, not feeling confident enough to his his actual teeth. Below him, pressed between his body and the bed, something gained its own heartbeat, throbbing alarmingly. 

Rookwood drew a mouthful of Luna into his mouth, pressing her lips together between his own, pulling, squeezing, and then pressing downward with his muzzle, her lips still pinched together, and made a circular motion in the area where her fragile love button was deeply hidden. Luna began to moan as her flesh was pulled and pressed against her own deep inner recesses, her breathing coming in and going out in ragged bursts. Her mouth was open, her tongue hanging out, her eyes rolled up into her head. 

Rookwood lifted a hoof up beside his mouth, brushing against her folds, pulling away, covered in slick clinging moisture. As he continued to pinch and pull her lips with his own, his hoof dropped back down, now slick, trailing moisture as it went, and he found her pucker. He took the edge of his hoof and moved in a circle, first clockwise, and then counter clockwise, pressing down against her wiggling flexing pucker, feeling it draw and contract beneath his touch. 

Rookwood forced his tongue between Luna’s tightly compressed folds, squeezing her ever tighter between his own lips, sucking, pulling her in as much as possible, making the skin tight and taut, stretching, pulling, creating the most delightful tension, which Luna found almost impossible to bear as his tongue began its probing. 

Rookwood failed to notice that he was now dark and hazy, wreathed in a shadowy flicker, almost transparent. He was too focused on his task. The burning throbbing itch between himself and the blanket was gone now, and he completely failed to notice. 

He bore down upon Luna, half in, and half out of shadow, enough of him remained to exist and continue to tease, but enough of him was gone to summon forth more shadow. Rookwood’s eyes were closed. He did not see the writing tendrils of shadow pouring from his form, gathering around Luna’s twitching, heaving, eager marehood and pucker. A tendril found its way to Luna’s pucker, teasing, probing, poking at the entrance, beneath Rookwood’s still circling hoof. It was very nearly solid, and it found purchase upon Luna’s own shadowy nature, connecting, gaining friction, finding traction. The tip of it wiggled in, darting in and then out, and then plunged in once again, causing Luna to kick and buck a bit under Rookwood. 

“What are you doing Rookwood?” She gasped, her breathing laboured. 

Rookwood said nothing, still sucking and pulling, making a circular motion using Luna’s own lips to rub up against her clitoris. Another tendril of shadow began to seek out Luna’s now glistening and slick marehood, which made wet sloppy sounds as Rookwood continued to try and bring Luna to climax. This tendril wasted no time, it did not bother knocking, seeking an invite for entrance. It reared back, grew in girth and mass, and then stabbed forward with a curled up tip forming a knob. 

Luna shrieked and writhed beneath Rookwood. 

“UuuuGAAH!” Luna grunted, her belly suddenly going rock hard, going crosseyed. “Rookwood, what have you done! Something has penetrated me! I think. I do not know. I feel something faint and tickling.” Luna said in between ragged heaving breaths. 

Rookwood opened his eyes and saw the writing shadows. He held is concentration, not wanting to end this moment. 

“Shadow magic Luna.” Rookwood said, freeing Luna from his suction. 

“Ooh… UGH… HUNF!” Luna grunted. “Are you diddling me with shadow magic?” 

Rookwood did not reply. He was trying to stare cross eyed at his own tongue. It seemed shadowy, there were black wisps drifting off of it. 

He thrust his tongue downward, deep into Luna’s now constricting recesses. The tendril in her pucker writhed, growing in size, becoming almost impatient, pushing in and pulling open, rolling around and tugging, sliding her pucker up and down and side to side. 

“Rookwood, do be careful. I… I…” Luna’s words trailed off and her teeth ground together. 

Luna kicked as she felt the two tendrils inside of her pucker and her velvet recesses press together, sandwiching her tender flesh between them. Stars were in her vision. Her horn began to smoke slightly. She felt a tongue seeking out the secretive folds around her throbbing nubbin. A hoof continued to make slow lazy circles around her plothole. 

Luna nearly lost consciousness from the force of her own orgasm. Her last fully conscious act was flinging Rookwood away from her for his own safety, before she clenched up and tore his tongue free of his mouth. 

Rookwood was nearly blown off of the bed by an unseen force and then Luna lost control completely, kicking, screaming, writhing, her back arching, her torso twisting and extending, a flood of liquid gushing forth and flooding the bed in a puddle that had to be seen to be believed. Even at a distance, Rookwood’s shadow tendrils continued their assault, pressing and probing the contracting flesh trapped in the throes of orgasm. 

Luna’s continued wails broke his concentration though, and he came into physical reality fully, his shadowy helpers vanishing. 

Luna thrashed for a good ten minutes as Rookwood watched, feeling himself throb painfully, his own arousal building up to almost intolerable levels as he watched. 

“I need you. Right now.” Luna’s tone did not sound gentle. It was not inviting. It was commanding. Imperious. “And I do not need you fumbling around trying to find a way in.” 

Rookwood found himself lifted, drawn over, and then slammed down upon Luna’s body, her legs wrapping around his hips, and he felt himself sliding in, guided by magic. His bones creaked alarmingly as Luna’s legs ground his pelvis into hers. 

She was still peaking, Rookwood realised, feeling her contractions around him. Luna’s mareflesh blazed with moist heat, almost unbearably hot, causing his flesh to sting and feel painfully tight, like sticking a leg into a too hot bath. 

Luna’s fire threatened to consume him. 

He began to thrust wildly, not knowing what else to do, plunging in and out of her depths. He ground his hips downwards, pulling the flesh in front of his sheath over the secret place at the top of Luna’s midnight coloured folds, knowing that her love button was safely secured beneath. 

Luna felt the pressure of Rookwood’s hips causing her flesh to press and contract on her already overstimulated and throbbing button. She began to scream raggedly, her forelegs clamping down and causing Rookwood’s spine to crackle. 

“DAMN THINE SOUL ROOKWOOD, WHAT HAST THOU DONE TO WE?” Luna said, using ye olde Canterlot voice, amplified by orgasmic bliss. “WHAT HAST THOU WROUGHT? 

Luna’s orgasmic throes were too much to bear. Rookwood jammed himself in as deep as he could go, releasing his load, slamming the side of his face into Luna’s neck, closing his eyes and screaming. He held on for the ride, wondering how many bones would break, as many of them were right on the verge of shattering. 

As they lay together in the aftermath, there were no words. Just equine moans, the guttural ragged sounds of two ponies trying to catch their breath in post orgasmic bliss. There were was the occasional whinny or knicker, both of them reduced to the levels of being dumb beasts. 

Luna was the first to try and move, trying to wiggle out from beneath Rookwood’s collapsed and limp body, causing him to slide out of her with a wet sounding slurp. She felt his tip graze along her folds, which wiggled and pulled around her nubbin. She let out a shrill bellowing whinny, her hips once again bucking and writhing, her almost agonised cries sounding as though they had reverberated up and out from Tartarus. Her gasping whinnies continued for several minutes. 
	
	
	
> Chapter 10 (Warning! graphic unpleasantness) 
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Rookwood found himself dreaming. This was not a good thing. Below him, there was a swirling vortex, above him was the moon and stars filled the sky. He felt a certain sense of dread and wondered were Luna might be. Lightning crackled in the vortex below. He soared on black wings made of shadowstuff. 

“I was hoping we could talk.” 

The voice was smooth, silky, and seductive. It practically purred. And it was very much like Luna’s voice, Rookwood realised. 

“Bugger off bitch!” Rookwood shouted. 

“Perhaps we got off on the wrong hoof. Perhaps, we should have just got off.” Nightmare Moon whispered, her voice all around him, tickling his ears. 

Rookwood began to feel the first faint prickle of panic. 

“You have so much potential. She will never allow you to achieve all of it you know. You would become a threat to her. To rule over her heart and lord over her with your raw abilities. I have changed my mind after witnessing your… gifts. I would have you rule at my side. Join me. I will show you things she never would. I could show you real power. Like how to feed on others and gain strength.” 

Rookwood felt a tickle in his mind… A telltale sign. He flooded his mind with images of Luna. He thought about every perverted act, her every graceful curve, all in the perfect memory of his lusty adolescent brain. He recalled her orgasmic moaning and the feeling of her body pressed against his. 

“Oh, you are a clever little pony…” Nightmare Moon hissed. 

“So when do we get to the torture.” Rookwood demanded. 

“No torture. Not tonight.” Nightmare Moon replied. 

“So you are hoping to escape Luna’s notice by not harming me?” Rookwood questioned. 

“Oh my, you are a clever pony.” Nightmare Moon chuckled. 

“Get bent bitch.” Rookwood said. 

“Luna is only using you. Exploiting your coltish lust. She has you in her power now, and will exploit you to try and rid the world of me. And when she is done, she will cast you aside and crush every one of your hopes and dreams.” Nightmare Moon cooed. 

“And you wouldn’t?” Rookwood questioned. “Luna carries my foal and wants me around as the father.” 

“She told you that, did she? Why would she, an immortal goddess alicorn, need you around as a father? Do tell. Think logically. What purpose would it serve? She knows of my interest in you. And I have seen her dreams as she sees mine. You are bait, to lure me out, and nothing more.” Nightmare Moon said. 

“Still better than anything you have planned for me.” Rookwood said. 

“Oh poor Rookwood, you have no idea. I can be very generous when it suits me. And you have several things I want. A few of which I would need you alive and well cared for. You… have… peaked… my… interest.” Nightmare Moon’s words trailed off into a lusty moan. “I helped Luna ascend… I could do the same for you. What pleasures we could share.” 

“I accept the night, but I reject the darkness!” Rookwood shouted angrily. “And if I have so much potential that I could be a threat to Luna, that means I am a threat to you as well! So go get buggered by priapistic manticore you shadowy bitch! You would never allow a threat to exist against you! To Tartarus with you!” 

“Such fire.” Nightmare Moon said in lusty tones, her voice all around him. “You show hints of having a spine. Do you think Luna will tolerate your willful behaviour?” 

Rookwood began to focus on Luna intently, thinking back to when he had shadow winked to the bed. He pushed and flexed his will, trying to wink out, to escape. 

“It was a mistake to cause you pain. Allow me to make it up by showing you pleasures you can scarcely imagine.” Nightmare Moon said in sultry tones. 

“Take your mistakes and shove them up your plothole! Just go drown in a puddle of ursa major spunk you ugly old black nag!” Rookwood screamed. 

Nightmare Moon began to laugh, a booming laugh that pained Rookwood’s ears. 

“You’re not even fit for glue!” Rookwood shouted. 

The vortex below him began to crackle in a terrifying new way, lightning surged and flashed in the clouds. It suddenly became very cold. 

“YOU CANNOT ESCAPE ME!” 

Rookwood collapsed into a cloud of shadow, now beginning to cackle madly himself. 



 

He awoke, muzzle to muzzle with Luna, who was staring into his eyes. 

“I saw everything.” Luna said. 

“And you just left me there?” Rookwood panted, his body being stabbed with hundreds of white hot needles. 

“For the time being.” Luna said, her voice sad. “I would have pulled you out before she hurt you. I had to see how you would react. And you escaped her pocket plane on your own. I am proud of you.” 

“I did what?” Rookwood said in disbelief. 

“You escaped. You focused on me and returned to me in the waking world. I am truly impressed.” Luna leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on Rookwood’s nose. “I hope you do not believe in anything she told you.” 

Rookwood lay silent. 

“I have no intentions of throwing you away.” Luna whispered. “I am selfish with my possessions. Ask Celestia. I do not share my toys. Not to say you are my plaything, but I do enjoy playing with you.” 

Rookwood felt a burst of heat flood his body. 

Luna pulled him closer, into her forelegs. Oddly, Rookwood didn’t feel his usual arousal. It was comforting to just be held. Part of him was still terrified. 

“And the things you said…” Luna tittered in the darkness. “Such awful things.” 

“I am dreadfully immature.” Rookwood whispered. 

“Maybe so, but I like that. I have had a number of noble guards cuff a pony for insulting me, but none so far have resorted to playground insults and schoolyard crudities. I should grant you a knighthood.” Luna giggled. 





Rookwood stood in shadow while Luna beckoned him to come hither with a saucy wink. She stood in the sunlight, the late afternoon sun, and Rookwood in a hallway on the other side of the door. 

“I haven’t been out in the sunlight since the change.” Rookwood said. 

“You’ll be fine. A little uncomfortable maybe, but fine.” Luna promised. 

The light pierced Rookwood’s eyes painfully. He squinted through his glasses. He trotted forward to follow Luna. 

He crossed the threshold into the sun, stepping into the direct sunlight. It felt odd. Not warm, but stinging. A tingle. The day was chilly… It was winter after all, but usually even on cold winter days the sun felt warm. 

There was no warmth. 

He stepped through the snow, his hooves crunching on ice crystals, once again in daylight. 

Something didn’t feel right. He felt weak and dizzy. 

“Should I feel dizzy?” Rookwood said. 

“Sometimes the lunar pegasi feel disoriented after being in the dark for several days with no sunlight at all.” Luna said as she trotted around the frozen garden. 

Rookwood heard a hissing sizzle followed by a pop. A stabbing pain shot through his back, between his shoulders. It began to spread. He felt like he was being stung by hundreds of bees. He stumbled and cried out. 

“Luna!” Celestia cried. 

Luna turned and then shrieked. 

“Fire!” A guard shouted. 

A second later Rookwood was slammed into by an armored pegasus, who bore him down to the ground and began to roll him in the snow. The pain was agonising. There was a loud hissing and steam all around them both. 

“Get him inside, hurry!” Celestia shouted. Her faced flashed annoyance for a moment and then her horn flared. 

Rookwood found himself indoors, in a dark room, with Celestia standing over him. The guard was there with them, still pinning Rookwood. 

“You burst into flames Rookwood.” Celestia explained. Rookwood felt himself lifted into the air and placed down upon a table. He could smell burning hair and flesh. 

Luna appeared in the room with a loud pop. 

“I have never seen anything like that!” Luna shouted in alarm. “Celestia, he has passed before windows and been awake in the day.” 

“But maybe never in direct sunlight sister.” Celestia said, her voice frantic. 

Rookwood felt something pressed to his lips. A glass vial. 

“Drink.” Celestia commanded. 

Rookwood felt the vial lifted as his lips opened, a bitter liquid being poured down his throat. His mind immediately began to distort. He felt his body become light, odd, weird. 

“I would have never encouraged you to come outside had I known!” Luna cried. 

Rookwood could not reply, his tongue no longer working. He felt himself going numb. 

Rookwood felt himself slipping off into comforting cool darkness. 





He found himself once again in the dreamscape. He was in a bed. His body ached. He looked around him. He found himself unable to move. He saw a blue leg and he struggled to understand what he was seeing. He saw his muzzle, but it wasn’t his muzzle. Is was slender. Delicate. And blue. He blinked. 

He was in Luna’s body. He lay in an uncomfortable bed. It was wet. There was something warm and heavy pressed against his back. Luna’s back. 

“Do you grow tired of your sister whoring you out?” A faint voice whispered. “Selling what you have to offer?” 

Rookwood struggled to understand what was going on. 

“I can help you. Free you. I have seen your dreams. I know what you desire. To be free of your sister’s brilliant light. She has ascended… And look where that has left you. She’s too good to use her body for political favours now… So she uses yours instead. Her own little sister. Left mortal and weak while her sister has rose to ultimate power.” 

Rookwood felt Luna’s body heave and there was a faint sigh, a sad sound. 

“I can show you how to draw in the essence of the night. To become one with a primordial element just like your sister has. Has she offered to do the same? Has she offered to free you from this drudgery? NO! She has not! She has left you to rot. To shrivel away. To have your body abused and your own hopes and dreams crushed.” 

“It is not like that…” Rookwood heard Luna’s voice murmur. It was different. It didn’t have the confidence he was used to hearing. Her imperious tone was not present. 

“Why fear the darkness when you can rule over it? Why be a slave to political needs when you could rule over this pathetic mudball floating through the void? I can help you. I want to help you. Your suffering cries have reached my ears. I need your help. I had a body once. No longer. You and I, we can work together.”

“What do you want?” Luna’s voice said. Rookwood could feel the faint words tickle lips not his own and ragged gasps of air flowed through the nostrils he was now using. 

“I want what you want. The strength to help the downtrodden. To right wrongs. To lift up those who are oppressed. Like you. Look what your sister has done to you.” 

“I chose this.” Rookwood heard Luna gasp faintly. “Nopony forces me.” Rookwood heard an angry hiss from the lips that said the words. 

“Perhaps I shall return and we shall speak again.” 

Rookwood felt Luna’s body jerk as she awoke. Luna’s body lay gasping, her breathing heavy. He heard a chuckle from behind him as the stallion awoke. 

“Woke up feeling frisky, did you?” 

Rookwood tried to panic and felt an odd sensation as this body was not his body to panic with. He felt a heavy foreleg wrap around the body he was trapped in, pulling him closer. He felt hot breath on his ears. He felt Luna’s body kick and struggle. 

“NO!”

“Oh, I like it when you are playful. Going to make me work for it eh?” 

“NO!” 

He could feel Luna’s neck contort and twist, saw her muzzle angling down, saw a muscular grey foreleg just before her muzzle… And then Rookwood tasted blood. 

Something in his lower back exploded with pain as a knee was sharply driven into the spine he shared with Luna. He kicked his legs and kicked and struggled, feeling a foreleg snake under his body, wrapping around, and both forelegs now pulling him back, crushing him closer. 

“NO!” 

“How dare you bite me you bitch!” 

He felt something stab his backside, thrusting wildly as his body thrashed. 

Rookwood’s fear was a living thing now. It tore through his essence and caused no end of psychic trauma. Rage burned through him. 

“Hold still and make it easier! Or else!” 

Rookwood felt Luna’s body continue to kick and struggle as something continued to thrust and stab and try to find its way inside. 

There was a flash of light in the dim room and the smell of ozone. Rookwood felt what he thought was a white hot poker being jammed into his nethers, in between delicate folds of flesh. He heard Luna’s deafening scream and felt her pain. Her body flooded with agony, a searing burning pain between her folds, pressed against the tiny knob of flesh that he was getting to know so well. The burning was relentless. 

“Hold still and the burning will go away!” 

But Luna could not hold still, not on fire. She writhed and kicked, screaming, shrieking, unable to even plead for mercy because she could form words. 

And Rookwood was trapped in this nightmarish scenario with her. 

He felt feathers being ripped from the tender flesh of Luna’s wings. The burning sensation continued, growing ever hotter. Pressure was applied to all four hooves, painful horrible pressure, and he felt one crack, causing horrible pain to shoot up the leg he shared with Luna. 

And then the burning stopped. No more feathers were being ripped away. The pressure eased off. Luna continued to writhe for several minutes, her body wracked with sobs. 

When she was finally mostly still, the two forelegs pulled tight and thrust her downward. Rookwood could feel flesh ripping and tearing. The stallion had not entered into Luna’s marehood, but had ripped her open just under her dock, going in dry, ruining her flesh. 

He felt the thrusting and the blinding pain continued for what seemed like hours. And then, it stopped. The stallion pulled out. He felt a hoof press into Luna’s spine and then kick her violently out of the bed, and she tumbled out onto the cold floor. 

They lay there, together, gasping for air, writhing in the most horrible pain imaginable while the stallion started laughing. 

“Help me.” Rookwood heard Luna say. 

“Give me a few minutes to get rested, and I’ll be glad to help you.” The stallion said. 

“Please, help me!” Rookwood heard Luna say again. 

The stallion continued to laugh, a horrible sound. 

And then, something else in the room answered. 

“You have called. And I have answered.” 

The laughter stopped all too suddenly. The stallion started to scream and Rookwood heard the sounds of rending flesh. Crimson blood began to splatter the walls. 

Rookwood heard Luna give a weak laugh. 





Rookwood awoke and began to kick and thrash. A strong force held him still. His back still burned. Pain shot through his body. 

“Hold still.” Luna commanded. “Rookwood…” 

Rookwood froze, waiting. 

“I am so sorry. I never intended…” Luna’s voice broke off into a cry. 

Luna cried quietly for several minutes as Rookwood waited. He could hear breathing. Somepony else was in the dark room. 

“I didn’t mean for you to see that.” Luna said. “I took you inside of my mind. I didn’t want her getting you in your weakened state. I was trying to protect you.” 

Rookwoods only reply was his own strangled sobs. Everything on the inside hurt more than any pain he felt on the outside. 

“Once inside, you found your way into secret places. I didn’t want you seeing that. She… used me. Violated me just as much as the events that you just saw. She tried to use me to kill my own sister… I was trapped inside and forced to watch. And I couldn’t make her stop. I begged and pleaded and said no so many times…” Luna’s voice trailed away in more cries, anguished cries, cries that became howls. 

Rookwood became aware of another set of cries in the darkness as he heard Celestia weeping. 
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 11
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“Had I known, I would have never entered your bed.” Rookwood said dully, laying on his belly. 

“Now that you know I suppose you will find me undesirable.” Luna whispered sadly. 

“I never said that.” Rookwood retorted. “Just that, had I known, I would have… I would have… ” 

“You would have treated me differently? Been afraid to accept my invitation? Worried about bringing up past hurts?’ Luna asked.

“Yeah.” Rookwood answered bluntly. “I might not have been so eager. I might have been more respectful. I might have done things differently.” 

“Things are the way they are.” Luna replied. “Sister, are you alright?” 

Celestia did not reply. After a long moment of silence, Luna spoke again. 

“I found out later that Nightmare Moon had possessed him. When she took over my mind completely. It was just one more of her many violations. She used his body, taking what little bit of magic and essence she had left, to commit the act that pushed me over the edge.” Luna’s words fluttered through the dark like moths seeking flames and found those flames within Rookwood’s ears, inside of his burning brain. 

“If it is the last thing I do I am going to find a way to destroy her.” Rookwood spat. “I feel so awful. All those times I…” His voice away and Rookwood choked. 

“All those times you spilled seed upon my flesh?” Luna said bluntly. 

Rookwoods only reply was a strangled cough. 

“I swear I bear you no malice.” Luna promised. “Had I looked into your mind and not liked what I saw, I would have never opened myself to you. You are young and your biology rages, but under that is a pony very much like my self, threatened by the same foe that once consumed me. Please, do not withhold your passions from me now that you have seen the past. I have suffered enough heartbreak.” 

“I’ll not leave you alone in the darkness. If I had my way, I would stay with you forever holding back the darkness and the hurt.” Rookwood whispered. 

“Be wary of your words young Rookwood.” Celestia said, her voice hitching slightly. “And mind your hatred. Our common foe feeds on hatred. And she will become a terrible enemy if you give her sustenance.” 

Rookwood moaned. His pain flared all throughout his body, inside and outside. After several moments of trying to make words form, he spoke: “If I can’t ever be in the sun again then I’d rather spend time in the darkness with you.” 

“I didn’t know that would happen. I feel so badly.” Luna whispered. “And while I would love to spend as much time as possible with you, I would not wish to curse you with immortality.” 

“Already been kinda cursed with shadow and now I have an allergy to sunlight. What’s a little eternity?” Rookwood said dryly. 

“You jest?” Celestia said angrily. 

“Yes. When things go horribly wrong I make jokes so I don’t lose my mind.” Rookwood explained. “It is how I survived my parents. And school. And life so far.” 

“My apologies.” Celestia said, her tone sincere. 

“It his his strength.” Luna said. “And one of the things I like about him.” 

“So am I completely crispy fried?” Rookwood said. “Horribly disfigured and hideous?” 

“Luna and I are going to have work together to try and heal you.” Celestia said slowly. “Due to your flesh and your shadow nature being at odds with one another. While you were out, Luna and I studied you. You are not at all like the lunar pegasi. We do not know the full extent of your change.” 

“You’re flesh and your shadow nature do not wish to coexist in the way that the lunar pegasi and their dual natures coexist. It is difficult for us to comprehend what is going on.” Luna explained, her voice still quivering with emotion. “Even now, you are changing. The shadow is taking over. I worry that Nightmare Moon has some hidden influence over you, manipulating you from afar.” 

“And I worry about much the same. I have seen that very thing happen once before.” Celestia said, a raspy sound of worry filling her last few words. 

Rookwood sighed. “If you suspect for even a moment that I have become a threat to either Luna or you, I want you to blast me with enough sunlight to turn me into a cinder.” 

“No!” Luna cried. 

“Shush.” Rookwood replied. 

“HOW DARE YOU SHUSH ME!” Luna bellowed. 

“Enough!” Celestia snapped. “Rookwood… I must say, I am impressed with your sudden display of maturity. Luna, calm yourself. Do not condemn what is said out of love.” 

Luna grumbled wordlessly and did not reply. 

“Both of you are behaving like lovestruck adolescents.” Celestia commented in matronly tones. “Rookwood, you have my permission to shush Luna should the need arise. Do not abuse this privilege.” 

“So I am not the only one with a sense of humour in dark times.” Rookwood replied. 

Luna continued to grumble in the dark. 

“No more playing around.” Rookwood said, his voice solemn. “Luna, no more going easy on me. If I am going to fight this somehow, then I need to be better prepared. No more distractions, no more going easy on me, no more being soft. I am going to trust you to put me through as much as you believe that I can take. I have seen what is at stake. I submit to your tutelage.” 

“Very well Rookwood, if that is what you want. I shall oblige you.” Luna whispered. “But what of me and my own needs?” 

“I, uh, didn’t mean that we stop playing around completely. And the occasional distraction is alright. I just wanted you to know how serious I am about all of this. And after everything I saw… And felt… It does not change my feelings. I went through those things with you… I… I am not wise enough to say something meaningful and deep so I am just going to shut up now.” Rookwood said. 

Luna took a deep breath and sighed, sounding relieved. 

“It is going to be Hearth’s Warming soon.” Celestia said, trying to bring some cheer back into the room. “If by Hearth’s Warming you show significant improvement, I will give you my blessing.” 

“Thank you sister.” Luna said. 

“It was the black touch, wasn’t it?” Rookwood said in a low whisper. 

“What?” Luna and Celestia said together. 

“That pain. Down there.” Rookwood said to Luna. “You said it happened because you were willful and insolent. Nightmare Moon punished you. She, uh, used the black touch, right?” 

“Yes.” Luna whispered softly. “Shadow magic, used to curse, causing indescribable torment. I am sorry that you are now wiser in the knowledge of that sort of pain.” 

“All of us in this room know the feeling of that terrible curse.” Celestia said in low wavering tones. 

Luna made a choking sound. “I am so sorry sister. I felt everything. She… She… Opened a channel between our minds when she tortured you. I felt your pain as she touched upon your wings with that curse.” 

Rookwood fell silent, realising he was in the middle of a very private and painful moment between sisters, now immeshed with both of them. 

“She has hurt us all.” Celestia said. 

“Well, it ends. If it is the last thing I ever do, I am finding a way to end that nag.” Rookwood said, feeling his back twist and pull from his heated emotion, causing him to whimper wordlessly, his head dropping down upon the bed. “She dies!” He spat. “I’ll show her a black touch!” 

“Rookwood, be calm.” Celestia said. 

“I feel an odd sensation.” Luna said. 

“Sister?” Celestia inquired. 

“I do not know what it is.” Luna replied. 

“Luna, is something wrong? Should we be alarmed?” Celestia said, panicking. 

“No.” Luna answered. “Nothing like that. “I just have a very odd sensation. I cannot fathom what it is. It is very difficult to describe. But I felt it strongest when Rookwood spoke of killing our common enemy. I felt light headed and my heart rate increased significantly. I can feel it even now.” 

“Luna…” said Celestia slowly, “are you lovesick?” 

“I do not know sister. I’ve been asking my self that. I do not know what it feels like, I have nothing to compare it too. It is all so sudden. Perhaps it is just mommy hormones.” Luna said, her voice now husky and low. 

Rookwood sensed Luna moving. He could feel her in the dark. He was very much aware of her now. One shadow passing near another. She was silencing her hooves. 

“I know you are there.” Rookwood whispered. 

“I know.” Luna said. 

Rookwood could feel her crawling into the narrow bed with him, pressing up against his side carefully, trying to not cause further hurt. He felt the gentle brush of her lips upon his cheek, and felt an odd radiating warmth in his horn. His eyes grew heavy, his body felt dull. 

“Rest now… Go into the soothing blackness.” Luna’s voice silkily whispered into Rookwood’s ear. Rookwood could not resist. He felt his mind once again going under, he felt the bed dropping out from beneath him, falling away. 



 

Rookwood’s eyes snapped open. It was late. Sometime past midnight his internal clock told him. His back itched and was full of pain, but the skin didn’t feel so awful. He was in Luna’s bed, buried under blankets. He lifted his head. He checked his senses, trying to determine which world he was in, the waking or the dreaming. It was getting harder to tell sometimes. 

He concluded he was in the waking world. 

He poked his head out from beneath the covers and saw a plate of fruit upon the bedside, but no sign of Luna. Which was odd. Usually, she stayed close, ready to protect. He strained his senses, and could feel… Something. It tingled in the root of his horn. He gobbled the fruit, eating the apple last, leaving a slight mess in the bed. 

He rose up, pushing the blankets away, trying to focus his Luna sense. He wobbled to his hooves, his back burning with pain, his skin felt tight and odd. He had been healed quite a bit, but red sore places remained. New hair had even been grown in. 

Without meaning to, he fell into shadow, trying to attune his Luna sense. Now, it was stronger. She was near. He sought her out. And then she was gone. He became solid, and stepped out he door of her chambers, into the hall. Two massive lunar pegasi smiled at him, bowing their heads. 

“No bowing.” Rookwood said, shaking his head. 

“Luna would mount our heads on spikes.” One of the guards replied. 

“Or possibly other parts of us.” The other said.

“She’s hiding from me.” Rookwood said. 

“We know.” Both guards replied in unison. 

“Don’t tell me.” Rookwood said. 

“We hadn’t planned on it.” One of the guards returned. 

Rookwood shadow dove, and suddenly the hall was a very different place. He could see symbols. Glyphs. Magical wards. Strange markings. 

He popped back into reality. 

“There is magical markings everywhere.” Rookwood said. 

“I’ve never seen anything like that.” One of the guards replied. 

“Me neither.” Said the other. “Are you seeing magical runes?” 

“I think so.” Rookwood said, suppressing a whimper from the pain in his back. 

One of the guards whistled. “Luna will want to know about that. When and if you find her.” 

“Oh, I’ll find her.” Rookwood said confidently. 

So, Luna wanted to play hide and go seek. Rookwood supposed that it was as good of a lesson as any. Luna wasn’t making it easy on him. And she was obviously on the move. Rookwood knew that she had been in the room with him. 

He shadow dove, trying to detect Luna’s presence, focusing on his need for her. He took off down the hall, insubstantial, flowing through the dimly lit hall like smoke on the breeze. All around him he could see spider webby like bits of magical graffiti. Glyphs. Siguls. This place was packed with magical defenses, and yet, somehow, Nightmare Moon regularly found her way through them all. 

He drifted too close to one, and felt an odd sensation. A buzzing feeling went though his insubstantial form, tingling pleasantly, the glowing marking going dim, a stream of silvery light flowing into his cloud. 

He fell out of shadow, gasping, feeling nearly orgasmic. His breath heaved. The pain in his back was now mostly gone. He turned and looked over his own shoulder, seeing the difference, the last of the red flesh now mostly gone. 

What had just happened? Rookwood wondered. Had he just absorbed magic? That seemed to be the case. He stood there, confused. 

“You absorbed a ward.” 

Luna’s voice very nearly caused Rookwood to wet himself. She was everywhere around him and nowhere all at once. 

“You absorbed a magical ward and healed your body. Fascinating. We shall discuss this later.” 

And then the voice was gone. Rookwood felt strangely energised. He dove again, tearing down the hallway with impossible speed, emerging into the library tower. He had a nagging notion that he was doing something wrong… He thought about it for a moment. 

He was chasing her. Which was foolish. 

He focused his will on Luna and made her the center of his focus, pushing all else out of her mind. He thought about a cute dark blue filly with soft powder blue hair, He felt a strong protective urge. He felt something else too… Something filling his cloud of essence with energy. 

There was a painful POP and suddenly, he was inside of Luna, their clouds intermingling together. The world distorted and he could no longer see around him in all directions. He felt confused, out of place, something crashed into his consciousness like waves driven by the incoming tide. 

Images flooded his incorporeal mind. A tiny blue filly in a large copper bathtub with a larger white filly. A stuffed dragon toy. He felt a sense of love and adoration, seeing the world briefly through Luna’s eyes as she gazed up at her big sister, seeing her sister raise the sun for the very first time, watching her mark appear with a flash of golden light. Huddled in a bed, the stench of urine in the air, with her sister pressed tight around her, whispering soothing words to keep the monsters in the dark away. The large charcoal grey alicorn stallion wearing a suit of plate mail and leaving out the gate. He saw the alicorn’s body again, still in plate mail, now battered and full of gaping holes, lain upon a table, black blood pooling on the table and leaking upon the floor, a sense of painful despair permeating Rookwood’s being, Celestia, still a small filly, standing near and weeping, and he could look down and see a puddle of tears around two small blue hooves. Flight, soaring through the air, a few feet above a flight of stairs, feeling a dreadful sense of terror. A first flight? Sadness, terrible sadness, the large orange alicorn mare that Rookwood had seen previous, laying in a bed, supine in a pool of blood, a foal half in and half out of her womb, more blood rushing out from straining flesh, and loud cries from two grief stricken sisters. Raising the moon for the first time and the rush of feelings that came with it, including indescribable terror upon seeing the darkness around the moon in the cutie mark. All of these events seemed jumbled, out of order, all mixed up and muddled. 

Rookwood’s mind began to burn and tear apart. He had trouble telling which thoughts were his anymore. His own memories seemed odd. Blurring. Distorted and no longer entirely his own. 

He felt the torment of one thousand years of being locked away in the magical essence of the moon, seething with rage, two minds battling for domination, locked in hatred, unable to escape one another, a thrashing battle that raged for ten centuries. Rage. Hatred. Anger. Dispair. Loneliness. Grief. Trapped in a prison cell with a monster, fighting for survival, as the monster struggled to take the last of what made Luna Luna, devouring her sense of self, consuming her being. Rookwood became aware of how close Luna came to ceasing to be Luna. 

Rookwood POPPED again, reappearing a short distance away, and fell to the floor, screaming and clutching his head. 

A moment later, Luna popped back into reality, also falling to the floor, screaming, She writhed on the marble tiles, trying to crawl towards Rookwood, as Rookwood clutched his head and continued to scream. 

Guards began to rush into the library tower, forming a protective circle around the pair, grunting, teeth bared, looking for invisible threats, and finding none. 





“What happened?” Rookwood asked, laying on sofa, clutching his head. 

“I’m not sure.” Luna panted. “We collided in shadow.” 

“I have strange knowledge in my head. I saw things.” Rookwood gasped. 

“I know, I saw things too.” Luna said, laying her head back upon a cushion. 

Guards still filled the library, looking concerned and more than just a little afraid. 

“My head hurts.” Rookwood said. 

Luna nodded. “Mine does too. I think we’ve merged somehow.” 

“I think I saw the first time you flew.” Rookwood said. 

“I know I saw the first time you discovered your little friend.” Luna groaned. “You were in the bathtub. It went off and it scared you. You thought you broke it and you didn’t touch it for weeks.” 

“Yeah.” Rookwood said, wishing he could die from embarrassment. 

“And when you did touch it again, you wouldn’t stop touching it.” Luna said. “I saw it all.” 

Rookwood whimpered as he heard guards snickering. 

“You must be the horniest little unicorn in all of Equestria…” Luna commented. 

“Oh please, somepony kill me…” Rookwood begged. 

“Nine or ten times. A day. Not in a week, but in a day… How?” Luna groaned. 

“I didn’t have magic to drain off my excess energy?” Rookwood offered. 

“I hope you have plenty of energy left. We’re not done tonight. This is just a temporary interruption. I intend to exhaust you before dawn comes. Catch your breath, we must continue your lessons.” Luna said, rubbing the side of her head. 

Rookwood heaved a deep breath and prepared himself for a long night. 
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 12
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Rookwood struggled against mental exhaustion. He was having trouble thinking. Taking it all in. The past week had been nothing but lessons, from sundown to sunup. He had tirelessly performed. He had learned a great deal, like the fact that he could absorb magic in shadow form, something that was entirely new to both Princesses, and Celestia had sent off a letter to her former student, Twilight Sparkle, to see if Twilight could a reference to such a thing. Even some of Luna’s more devastating spells were absorbed harmlessly, sustaining his body, replenishing his energy, reducing his need for food and rest. It had become a way to recharge in between lessons. 

More importantly, absorbing magic made Rookwood powerful. His collision and subsequent absorption of some of Luna’s memories was most likely due to his earlier encounter with the ward that night. Luna was baffled, which worried Rookwood a little, as she was the Goddess of Night and no stranger to shadowmancy, but now, she was running into unknowns with Rookwood. 

Rookwood’s demeanor had changed a great deal since peering into Luna’s mind, first seeing her broken, and then seeing her struggle against Nightmare Moon for a thousand years in her prison. He was now dedicated. Serious. Aggressive even. Everypony had noticed the change, but none more so than Celestia. 

Celestia watched with a certain sense of respect and fear. She feared losing Rookwood to the darkness. When he had first arrived, he was little more than a bumbling adolescent colt. Now, he was young colt who was a seething cauldron of rage, repressed anger from his upbringing, and he was being burned alive, consumed by love. And it wasn’t the heady sweet and innocent love of a young colt and filly in the throes of first time love… Rookwood had seen too much, felt too much, and was entirely too aware of all of Luna’s secrets and intimate details. He was involved. He was committed. 

And he was as dangerous as any young colt in love might be, ruled by his passions. Perhaps more so given his odd abilities and relatively unknown powers. Celestia worried that he might go too far, or worse, burn himself out in sacrifice. It nagged at her mind and was a constant worry. 

Celestia’s worst worries today though were of a different nature as she strode down the hall towards breakfast. Rookwood’s parents had arrived the afternoon before. And Rookwood had refused to see them, saying that his lessons were entirely too important. 

Rookwood had been right. His parents were indeed unpleasant. Their first comments upon meeting Celestia was to tell her that she was the most successful welfare recipient in all of Equestria, living off the fat of the land and doing nothing in a castle all day while her subjects laboured away in real jobs. Celestia had to restrain the urge to say something, and had graciously nodded her head in agreement. 



 

Rookwood sat next to Luna, trembling in fear. To be honest, he was more comfortable with Nightmare Moon. His parents were an entirely different issue altogether. An unpleasant issue. 

There was a tense, terse silence. 

His father, Ravenwood, sat across the table, along with his mother, Icebrand. Celestia sat at the head of the table. 

Nopony had dared to eat anything yet. There was a contest of wills going on. 

“Father…” said Rookwood in a wavery voice, “mother, I am glad you could make it. We are pleased to have you.” 

Ravenwood snorted and Icebrand rolled her eyes. 

“Surely you must be happy about having a grandfoal.” Luna said diplomatically. 

“Oh, I am thrilled,” said Icebrand, “to know that my son is having a foal with the common whore that visits everypony in their dreams and indulges in their nocturnal sins with them. Including my own foal, who was a sweet and innocent foal until you went into his dreams and corrupted him.” 

Rookwood could hear Luna’s jaw creak as her teeth began to grind together. The room became rather warm. He glanced at Celestia and didn’t like what he saw. Nope. Not at all. He had seen those eyes before, looking at him. He squirmed uncomfortably. Those eyes were now affixed on his parents. 

Rookwood, having survived many intense moments around his parents table and this one as well bravely spooned a bit of cottage cheese and pineapple on to his plate and began to eat. 

“And why must it be so dark in here?” Ravenwood asked. “The blinds are closed. Let some sunlight in.” 

“There are some concerns about sunlight currently.” Celestia said patiently, her movements nearly mechanical. 

“Yes. Something about the night witch corrupting my son with strange magic and polluting his body. I read the letter.” Ravenwood said in disgust. 

A tiny fire ignited in Rookwood. It blazed brightly, burning in his fevered mind. He began to shovel down cottage cheese. 

“My poor little Rookwood. Now cursed because some strumpet couldn’t control her lust and she just had to have her way with him.” Icebrand said in acidic tones. 

Rookwood felt the blaze burn a little brighter. He heard Luna choke quietly, and could hear her swallowing. The air crackled with ozone.

Celestia carefully added a portion of oatmeal to a bowl and began to prepare it to her liking. She sat, unmoving, blinking slowly, her eyes fiery pinpricks of light. The corner of her eye twitched once or twice and then she became as still as a marble statue. 

“Since you two are bound to be married… Could you at least hold back the official birth announcement until at least one year has passed from the marriage to spare us all some shame?” Icebrand said, her tone one of disgust. 

Rookwood heard a faint growl from Luna. No wait, it wasn’t coming from Luna. Or Celestia. He looked around the room and realised it was coming from him. He whacked his barrel and cleared his throat. “Pineapple went down the wrong way.” He explained. Luna glanced at him, her face one of unbridled fury. 

“Rookwood is a very good student.” Luna said. “He has learned a great deal in a short amount of time. He has a keen mind, a quick wit, and he is clever when the situation demands it.” Luna’s tone was almost velvety, soft, and barely in control. Rookwood knew too many of the signs. He felt his muscles tensing. Luna was going to explode at some point, if Celestia didn’t explode first. 

Exploding princesses were bad news. 

Something was terribly wrong. Luna wasn’t drinking the maple syrup. She hadn’t eaten anything actually. Her plate was still empty. Luna usually ate like a horse. Luna needed to eat like horse. And Luna was not eating like a horse currently. Which means the foal wasn’t getting the nutrients it needed. 

The little flame in Rookwood poofed into a small inferno. He felt a hot raging heat along the back of his neck and behind his ears. 

“I am sure my son listens with rapt attention, seeing as how his instructor is giving him inappropriate sexual favours to entice him into doing her will.” Ravenwood said to nopony in particular. 

Rookwood began to sweat. He could feel it running down his sides. It was becoming unbearably hot in here. Something blazed out of control in his mind, a veritable conflagration. 

“Rookwood, darling, have you even considered asking for a paternity test? Who knows how many ponies she might have consorted with in dreams.” Icebrand said. 

Rookwood suddenly felt dizzy. He heard voices. They were distorted and odd. There was shouting, but he couldn’t make out what it was. He felt his glasses tumble from his nose. Pressure filled his body. His head began to thud between his ears. A second heartbeat sprang to life behind his eyes. Something inside of him broke. 

Rookwood’s parents tried to scramble away from the terrifying apparition before them, standing on the table. Black flames flickered around its hooves. It was tall. Terrible and disturbing. Black and shadowy, it towered over them, looking down, purple flames raging from its white milky dead eyes. Black bat wings spread wide, filling the room with a shroud of darkness, making everything go dim. Writhing black shadow crawled along its body. It was rotten, dead, flesh hung from its form in tatters, maggots writhed in and out of its flesh. Ribs were visible, and throbbing glistening veins and arteries pulsated behind thin translucent patches of skin. 

And the sound it made. A thousand voices all at once, the keening wails of the damned, the lost souls of Tartarus, an infernal chorus hidden in the black monster’s throat. 

They scrambled to their hooves, running, hitting the door and shoving through, trails of urine and feces spraying out behind both of them. 

Death himself had appeared on the table suddenly, conjured up from the deepest darkest pits of Tartarus where he dwelled in unholy revelry with the damned. 

The smell of death and decay filled the room, the scent of rotten meat, some foul carcass left in the sun too long. It was not a smell equines were well equipped to deal with. 

Ravenwood and Icebrand ran down the hall, past the confused guards, not knowing where they were going, not caring, certain that years of their lives had just been scared out of both of them, urine still streaming as they fled. 

They stopped, skidding to a halt when they saw Celestia, falling down, bowing, pleading, scraping, hoping she would save them from the horrible abomination that had appeared on the table. 

Celestia regarded them with pity. 

“I want you gone.” Celestia said coldly. “You are banished from the city of Canterlot under the pain of death. If you return, the terror you saw will be the least of your concerns, though I may release it once again to hunt you before you die. Do you understand?” 

Both of the cowering ponies nodded, huddling close to her legs, hoping she would keep the nightmare away from them. There was a gurgle of bowls as Icebrand shat herself again, cowering before the infuriated monarch. 

“Guards, I want them gone. See that they are removed.” Celestia’s tone was cold. Commanding. Emotionless. Celestia turned, and walked back to the dining room, carefully watching where she stepped. 



 

Celestia entered the door, stepping around a long puddle of urine, grimacing as she did so. She crossed the room, and then sat down in her chair. She took a deep breath. 

Luna was holding Rookwood, who appeared to be under some distress. 

“What happened…” Rookwood huffed. 

“Shh…” Luna said in a comforting voice. “You cloaked yourself in shadow.” 

“Did I just make my parents die of fright?” Rookwood heaved. 

“We can only hope.” Luna cooed. 

“Luna!” Celestia scolded. 

“What!” Luna snapped back. 

Celestia bit her lip, struggling visibly. “Nothing.” Celestia quipped. “Let us face the facts. Those ponies were repugnant.” 

“I told you so.” Rookwood gasped, his barrel still heaving. “What did I do?” 

“You cloaked yourself in shadow. You became the very embodiment of the nightmares of ponies everywhere, what ponies fear most. And it wasn’t the tax collector.” Luna said, grinning a wicked grin. “You have stolen Death’s visage.” 

“I must confess, it took all of the willpower that I possessed to not feel the fear you were radiating.” Celestia said. 

“And I am incredibly aroused right now.” Luna said. 

Celestia poured herself a cup of tea and sighed. 

“We are shadows sister, we have different standards. I do not expect you to understand.” Luna sniffed indignantly. 

Rookwood leaned forward and began to ravenously devour food. 

“Both of you are a mystery to me.” Celestia confessed. “And Rookwood?” 

Rookwood paused, mid-bite, raspberry jam dribbling down his chin. 

“You have my blessing.” Celestia said, slowly and carefully. “I have proof that you have been paying attention and that you will attend to my sister’s needs. Protect her. Love her. Treat her well. I welcome you as a brother.” 



 

Rookwood drifted in and out of sleep, wrapped up in a tangle of Luna. She lay sleeping, pressed against him. Her arousal had sparked need. Terrible need. Rookwood’s bones ached. The sun raged outside, Rookwood could feel it. He gently planted a kiss on Luna’s nose and closed his eyes. She had mounted him this time, throwing him down upon the bed and then straddling him. And that had only been the first time. Rookwood was too short in stature to even attempt the beast with six legs. So they were forced to be creative. 

And creative was good. 

Her body was warm and soft, and she still reeked of arousal and their previous activities. The bed was damp, wet even, in places, it smelled strongly of Luna. He pulled her closer, carefully, gently, visions of what had been done to her still fresh in his mind, making it difficult to hold her, but not impossible. She settled closer, murmuring wordlessly, her lips moving. 

He would do anything to protect her. Anything. He had even turned against his own parents, very nearly scaring them to death. Whatever it took, he was prepared to do it. 

Hearth’s Warming Eve would soon be upon them. Rookwood pondered, what did one get a goddess for Hearth’s Warming? He thought about it for quite some time. His thoughts tumbled around him as he realised he didn’t have a job. Or money. Or much of anything. 

The answer was socks of course, maybe even naughty fishnet stockings. 

There were no means to secure such objects though. All of his needs seemed to be provided for at the moment, so he supposed he could not complain. Still, the idea of Luna in black saucy fishnets made his heart race. He felt something squirm between him and Luna. 

He tried to will away his growing problem, but the idea of Luna in fishnets proved to be too much. He squirmed, trying to pull away from her. Luna pulled him closer. 

“What are you up to?” Luna said sleepily. “Why are you still awake?” 

“I was thinking about you in fishnet stockings.” Rookwood replied honestly. 

“Oh my, it must have been quite a mental image.” Luna purred. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” Rookwood said. “I even tried to pull away from you so I, uh, wouldn’t accidentally poke you while you slept, but you wouldn’t let go of me.” 

“I’d like to see you in some fishnet stockings.” Luna growled. 

Rookwood suddenly felt very, very confused. 

Luna began to giggle after maintaining the act for a several minutes. 

“I’d like to see my self in fishnets. I bet I’d look pretty.” Rookwood said. 

Luna tittered and pulled him in for a kiss, pressing her long lithe body against his. “If I said I wanted your body, would you hold it against me?” She ground herself against him, 

“Are your legs tired?” Rookwood inquired. 

“I am afraid to answer.” Luna giggled. 

“You’ve been running through my mind all night!” Rookwood chuckled. 

“Oh, that’s bad. And I like it.” Luna said, pressing her lips against Rookwood’s just to shut him up and silence his horrible pick up lines. 
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 13 (Warning. DARK!)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Luna stood on wobbling legs, panting heavily. She struggled to stand, her hips quivering and shuddering. Rookwood was behind her, nose muzzle deep in her midnight folds, doing what Rookwood did best. Standing was a good position for Rookwood, with nothing to rub up against him and cause him to go off. 

Rookwood’s tongue! Luna still could not believe her good fortune. 

The sun was slowly setting, and Rookwood was gaining strength as the day drew to a close. Luna could feel his shadowy essence beginning to faintly manifest, causing electric tingles in her marehood. She could feel his tongue brush with a featherweight pressure over her nubbin. Luna pushed herself backward, frustrated and flustered by the teasing touch. 

There was a knock. Three little knocks, one loud knock.

Luna hissed. “My sister… Rookwood, hide yourself. Cover your excitement. Do something.” Rookwood gave her one teasing parting lick and a bit of a suckle. 

“Sister, is it safe to come in?” Celestia said insistently. 

“Yes sister, you may come in.” Luna said breathlessly, struggling to quickly regain her composure. Luna’s wings were misbehaving. Rookwood had vanished. Luna could feel him, he was close.

“Tonight is Hearth’s Warming Eve.” Celestia said. “Twilight Sparkle, Cadance, and Shining Armor have arrived earlier this day. I wanted to make sure that you were still up for our walk tonight. Our subjects were a bit concerned that our public appearance is not happening during the day, but I wanted Rookwood with us.” 

“Yes, I am looking forward tonight.” Luna said breathlessly. 

“Are you alright sister?” Celestia inquired. 

“Having mommy troubles. It is evening sickness.” Luna said.

“Still having some trouble?” Celestia asked. 

“Yes.” Luna said, her breath hitching. 

Luna felt an odd tickle in her nethers. Something shadow creeping. Tickling. 

No! 

Luna giggled. 

“Luna?” Celestia said, now worried.

“I, uh, ooh my, I just felt light headed for a moment. I haven’t eaten yet.” Luna lied. 

Luna could feel Rookwood. And Rookwood was up to no good. She kicked a hind leg and began to squirm. She could feel his shadowy presence creeping into her now convulsing marehood. Luna began having trouble maintaining the magic that was hiding the smell in the room. The hot smell of sex. 

“Luna? I am worried. You don’t seem well.” Celestia said. “Where is Rookwood?”

“In the bathroom!” Luna moaned. 

Celestia looked puzzled. 

Luna had Rookwood completely up her backside. He was squirming around inside her now, a very naughty wisp of shadowstuff. And she was going to pay him back for this. 

“Gaaah!” Luna cried. 

“Luna? Something is wrong! Stop lying to me! I know something is wrong.” Celestia glared sternly at her sister. Luna was gnawing her lip and was standing there crosseyed. 

Luna let out a long orgasmic moan, losing her struggle. “Damn you Rookwood!” She gasped after several moments of moaning.

“Rookwood?” Celestia said in confusion. Her ears flickered as she heard trickling liquid dribbling from Luna’s backside and dripping to the floor. “Luna, what in Tartarus?” 

Rookwood understood now how Luna had slapped him from within his own head. He began to hum in smug satisfaction, causing his shadowstuff to vibrate with flesh tingling intensity. 

Another rush of liquid spattered from Luna’s backside. The smell of sex flooded the room. 

“LUNA!” Celestia said… “Are you…”

“Uuurgh aaargh uugh hrunf!” Luna grunted, her tongue dangling out, flapping as her head shook back and forth.  

“Oh Tartarus, what have I witnessed?” Celestia cried. “My sister’s ‘O’ face!” 

“Well, we were in the middle of a bit of fun.” Rookwood’s disembodied voice said. Luna’s eyes squeezed shut, and her ears folded against her skull. She whimpered and let out tiny cries. “And there was a knock upon the door. Luna told me to hide. So I did.” 

“Rookwood, are you in my sister’s…” Celestia’s voice trailed off, her mouth hanging open. 

“Completely!” Rookwood replied cheerfully, the reverberation of his voice causing Luna to wobble alarmingly. 

“I have tried to teleport three times now and my magic just keeps failing.” Celestia gasped. 

“There’s a foal in here.” Rookwood said. “My foal. Want to know a secret?” 

Celestia stood frozen, torn between fleeing and wanting to know what Rookwood had found. Luna continued to moan, thrashing her head about, her eyes rolling around wildly in their sockets. 

Luna flung herself down upon the bed and kicked her legs. 

“Rookwood! No more! Say something!” Celestia said. 

“Yes, please say something… Oh please oh please.” Luna pleaded. 

“I think it is a filly.” Rookwood announced. “This is amazing. Just what I wanted for Hearth’s Warming.” 

“I’m getting what I wanted for Hearth’s Warming.” Luna panted. 

“We’ll talk later!” Celestia cried, turning around and fleeing the room. 

Rookwood drifted out of Luna’s ear and watched her thrash about on the bed, enjoying himself immensely. 



 

Rookwood lazed in the warm waters of the bath, Luna beside him. Luna shot him the occasional dirty look, but Rookwood could live with the stinkeye. Luna’s legs were still quivering. 

“I cannot believe you did that.” Luna said. “I want to be angry with you, but I cannot. What you did was clever and has placed us on even hoofing. I do believe we are even, now having exchanged pranks. I acknowledge you as my equal.” 

Rookwood smiled. 

“You think it is a filly?” Luna queried. 

“I think. Hard to tell. Very small. Little head, little body, little legs.” Rookwood said, causing Luna to sigh happily. 

“I think I mortified Celestia.” Rookwood said. “And I think I feel good about it.” 

Luna chortled. “Celestia is a crafty foe. You do not want to engage her mischevious pranks. She has the experience of centuries.” 

“And I have you. Together, we can take her.” Rookwood submerged in the water, soaking his whole body. Water ran into his ears. He surfaced a moment later. 

“My sister will not soon forget this. Expect repercussions.” Luna warned. “For the both of us. She will set her will against me for my ruse and my lying, and she will move against you for your… treachery.” Luna took a long deep breath. “I am going to want you to do that again you know.”

“So about tonight. We’ll be out?” Rookwood asked. 

“Yes. Every year, for Hearth’s Warming, the royals go for a walk along the central avenues of Canterlot. We fling candies, toys, dolls, little gifts and trinkets to the families that gather along the sides of the avenue.” Luna explained. 

“I am not a royal.” Rookwood said in a small voice. 

“But you will be.” Luna replied. 

The words hit Rookwood hard, causing him to think about all manner of things. He had a very different view about nobility than his parents did. And his view had changed considerably just recently. Luna and Celestia both were very hard workers, Luna minding all manner of things that went on in her night. Nobles were full of self sacrifice and servitude. 

“I am not sure I am ready for that Luna.” Rookwood muttered. “I have a much better level of understanding of what really goes on behind these walls. I’ll give all I have to offer, but I worry it will not be enough.” 

“Nonsense.” Luna said. “Nothing is expected of you except that you are a good father.” 

“No.” Rookwood retorted. “That isn’t what I expect from myself. And being a good father means being a good example. I plan to do the exact opposite of everything my father did. If I am to be your husband, I intend to be at your side, assisting you in your duties. I will not passively sit by and allow you to go into the darkness alone. Not after what I’ve witnessed. And if you expect me to sit by and be idle, then you and I will have some harsh words.”

“Rookwood, you keep surprising me.” Luna admitted. “Depositing yourself up my backside as my sister tries to converse, spouting off noble platitudes, showing a remarkable maturity for your age…” 



 

Rookwood stared at the two cloaks upon the table. Both were black. Heavy. Thick. Each was trimmed in silver piping and had indigo lining. Both looked menacing somehow. 

“Are you sure? Doesn’t seem festive.” Rookwood said, unsure. 

“It is what I wear when I go out in public and have an appearance.” Luna said. “It is the mantle of my station. And it will be yours as well.”

Rookwood shuddered looking at the cloak. It was black. And looking at it filled him with a sense of dread, a distinct feeling of foreboding. It was as black as a funerary shroud. A long series of shivers ran down his spine. 

“Something is bothering you. I can sense it and see it.” Luna said, looking at him quizzically. “What do you see when you look upon the cloaks?”

“Darkness.” 

Luna nodded. “Yes my dear Rookwood. The darkness has claimed us both. These are the mantles of our office. Now come on. I will help dress you and then you are going to meet some new ponies.” 



 

Rookwood stood, cloaked, his glasses perched carefully upon his nose. He felt awkward. Out of place. He felt himself being stared at, studied. By Twilight Sparkle in particular. Rookwood was a book, and Twilight was trying to read him. 

“Relax Rookwood.” Shining Armor said, grinning broadly. 

For all of their differences, the two siblings were remarkably similar. 

“Luna, he sort of stays tensed up, doesn’t he?” Cadance said. 

“New ponies, new situation.” Luna said. 

“I was a loser in school. And now I am here. And I am clueless as to how to act.” Rookwood blurted, his honesty painful. 

“You probably will not believe me, but I was one of the biggest dorks in school.” Shining Armor said in a soft voice. “I was a spineless nerd. And look who I married. The secret, I’ve found, is just to be yourself. I know it sounds cliche, but I would swear that it is true.” 

Rookwood nodded slowly. 

“And I am the Princess of books, nerds, and dorks everywhere.” Twilight said in warm gentle tones. “I am the patron of bookworms, the socially inept, and the wallflowers of the world.” 

“Going to be cold out there tonight.” Cadance said. 

“My fault. I’m sorry.” Rookwood offered. 

“Not your fault, nothing to be sorry over. You can’t help it if you burst into flames when entering direct sunlight.” Twilight said. “Really interesting problem though. I wish I had been there to see that. Really very fascinating.” 

“Going to be better at night time anyway. The eight foot candy canes, the strings of coloured lights everywhere, everypony is going to be pressed closer together to stave off the cold… It is going to be magical.” Shining Armor said. 

“I agree.” Celestia agreed. 

“I’m nervous.” Luna said. 

“Why auntie?” Cadance inquired. 

“I just am. Ponies are always so afraid of me.” Luna said distractedly. 

“I am not afraid of you.” Rookwood said. “But Celestia is another story.” 

Cadance began to giggle and titter. 

Celestia scowled. “You should be afraid Rookwood.” 

“Did I miss something?” Twilight asked. 

Cadance continued to giggle. 

“Cadance knows?” Luna questioned. 

“Auntie Celestia came to me in much distress and I was able to pry it out of her.” Cadance said. 

Luna laughed nervously. 

Rookwood felt a prickle of heat began to travel up and down his spine. His ears grew hot. He flicked his dark blue and light green tail from side to side. 

“What happened?” Twilight asked. 

Cadance leaned over and looked at Twilight. “I keep my aunt's secrets.” She proclaimed. Twilight stood and looked rather disappointed. 

“Rookwood is a very naughty colt.” Celestia said sternly. “We should bring back the noble tradition of a chaperone.” 

Luna began to chuckle. “I have to keep Rookwood close to keep him protected. Your threat is meaningless.” 

Celestia raised her eyebrow and smiled faintly. “And he was in a very secure location earlier…” 

“I am confused.” Twilight protested. 

Celestia leaned down and began to whisper in Twilight’s ear. The effect was comical. Twilight Sparkle broke down slowly, the corner of her eye twitching, one ear flicking, one wing fluttering. 

“I, urgh, how… Rookwood!” Twilight snapped. 

Rookwood chortled within his hood, Luna joining him for a laugh. 

Twilight looked very distressed as the doors opened and they began their walk through the darkened streets of Canterlot. 



 

It wasn’t long after leaving the castle gates that the procession began to notice something odd with the crowds. Many were chanting Luna’s name. There were whistles and catcalls. Cheers rang out. Flowers were being thrown, which made the guards surrounding the procession rather nervous. A huge crowd of ponies were cluster near the palace gates, it was one of the largest Hearth’s Warming crowds any of the princesses had ever seen. 

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” Luna said, her tone commanding but gentle. 

“Is it true?” A mare shouted over the crowd. 

“IS WHAT TRUE? SPEAK PLAINLY.” Luna replied. 

“Are you going to marry?” The mare questioned, causing the crowd to go crazy. 

“What do I do sister?” Luna whispered to Celestia. 

“Well, we have not made plans for a formal announcement.” Celestia said, her voice nearly lost over the roar of the crowd. 

“And Rookwood has not technically proposed.” Luna said. 

Rookwood facehoofed. 

The crowd was becoming very insistent now, shouting and stomping their hooves. Loud cheers erupted, whistles, more catcalls, and ponies were letting off holiday poppers, which made loud cracks and sent streamers and confetti into the air. The guards were jumpy, but the crowd was in good cheer. 

“It is my intention to marry Princess Luna, if she will have me, and if you, the gracious public, will allow me!” Rookwood shouted. 

The crowd fell completely silent. The lunar pegasi guards became jumpy. In their experience, quiet crowds were bad crowds. They tightened ranks. Twilight Sparkle found herself pressed into Cadance as the guards crowded around them. 

Luna stared at Rookwood wide eyed, her expression one of shock and surprise, her teal eyes visible within the shadowy confines of her hood. Her breath was visible in the cold, heaving out great clouds of steam. 

Celestia nudged her sister softly, trying to get a response. 

The crowd suddenly went crazy, terrifying the guards. It took a few moments for the panic to pass as the guards realised the crowd was happy. 

“I accept.” Luna whispered in a tiny impossible to hear voice. Rookwood couldn’t hear her, but he was able to read her lips. A second later, Luna’s face filled his vision, her muzzle planted against his, their faces hidden in the thick hoods of the cloaks they both wore. 

The roar of the crowd was deafening. 

The procession began the long slow march through Canterlot, with the Princesses flinging toys and candies out into the crowds. 

Rookwood stumbled forward, numb, but not from the cold. Luna kept stealing glances at him, sly glances, her gaze feeling him with odd feelings. The bright lights strung all around stung his eyes, the street lights were nearly blinding. 

He suffered a painful revelation that the lights in the castle had been growing dimmer and dimmer in Luna’s quarters. He thought back to the ritual, thinking about the single lamp burning in his room, and how bright it had been. And now, Luna’s wing was perpetually dim. Shadowy. And that was to Rookwood’s vision. How dark must it be to everypony else if he found it dim? The lights now were dazzling. Painful. Even his parents had complained that the room they had breakfasted in had been dark. He stumbled, nearly falling, and felt the warm tingle of magic around his body. 

“Easy there.” Twilight Sparkle said with a wink. 

“Too bright.” Rookwood said, squinting behind his glasses. He squeezed his eyes shut, and the opened them. The light didn’t seem so bright now. He blinked a few times. 

“Rookwood!” Cadance said, leaning into his ear. “I can see through your legs.” 

Rookwood looked down and panicked slightly. He was translucent. But the light didn’t burn his eyes in this form. He became aware that he might scare the crowds if somepony noticed. He struggled for a few moments, becoming opaque and then solid. 

He leaned on Luna and closed his eyes. He felt Luna leaning back upon him, and he felt secure that she would lead him along. For a moment, he could feel the light burning through his eyelids, he opened his eyes briefly and was dazzled by an enormous tree trimmed in lights and glowing giant candy canes. He felt a powerful wave of nausea. He shut his eyes and continued forward, feeling weak and confused by what was happening, not understanding what was going on. He stumbled again, and felt another body pressing up against his other side. He opened one eye briefly and saw a flash of white. 

“Something is wrong Luna.” Shining Armor said, never once breaking his wide smile for the public, turning his head from side to side, spreading candy and toys from sacks carried by the guards. 

“I know.” Luna replied, doing the same. 

“I’ll be fine. Just keep going.” Rookwood said. 

“We’ll have to get you some protective eyewear.” Luna said, still smiling, endearing herself to the public. “This is where shadow illusion would be most useful. You could go dim and project an image of being solid to save yourself this discomfort.” 

Rookwood took the words to heart and made a mental note to spend more time learning shadow illusion. He focused on placing one hoof in front of the other. He heard Hearth’s Warming carols being sung someplace. He felt a twinge of sadness, struck with the sudden realisation that he was somehow losing this world of light, sound, and music. He spent all day in sepulchral darkness, locked away in the vault that was Luna’s chambers, and then all night in study, slowly losing himself to shadow. This is what Luna had felt, still felt, finding herself immersed unwillingly into an unknown darkness and forced to face the horrors she had found there. And nopony really understood what was out there, with the exception of the lunar pegasi. Nopony appreciated what it was that Luna did for them. The secret war fought in the darkness. Rookwood had become aware of shades, bad shadows, fell creatures that fed on fear and corrupted ponies. There were real horrors in the night, true terrors, and the public lived mostly in ignorance of what was out there. And for one thousand years, Luna had been locked away in the moon, and the lunar pegasi had to face the darkness alone, without Luna’s guidance or leadership, and the wounds found in the dark had festered and become a breeding ground for the very stuff of nightmares. And now, Nightmare Moon was active once again, no longer just a shadowy remnant, but an active force of evil in the darkness. 

Rookwood heard festive bells and it pulled him from his reflections. He opened his eyes slightly and saw a sea of foals, mares, stallions, of all colours and sizes, the tribes all together. They waved and cheered, confetti flew through the air, streamers floated, and steamy breath was visible in the bitter cold. The moon had risen over the tops of the buildings, and he could feel a gentle warmth soaking through his cloak and into his flesh. The light didn’t feel so bad when the moon shone upon him. He felt stronger, his steps more secure. 

He drank in the essence of the moon, taking in sustenance. He focused his will, concentrated, and then pushed his will in the form of shadow, giving Luna a goose just below her cutie mark, causing her to jump slightly and squeal like a filly. Rookwood could see the castle in the distance. They had completed the circle and were now coming home. 

Home, Rookwood thought. This was home. Were Luna’s chambers also his own? He didn’t know, and felt a brief rush of confusion. But it was good to be home. 



 

The group had spent the last hour or so eating cookies, festive little cakes, drinking eggnog, and hot chocolate. Luna had lifted the entire glass bowl of eggnog with her magic and had guzzled it down as Cadance and Twilight watched in horror. Luna’s belch had nearly blown over the holiday tree. Rookwood was drinking mulled wine, and sitting in a shadowy corner of the room, still wrapped in his heavy cloak, reclining on an overstuffed chair. He watched as Luna destroyed a table covered in a fine holiday spread. Rookwood would never say it, but he had noticed that Luna was getting some extra padding in a few places. Delightful places. He took a long drink of his warmed mulled wine and watched her, looking somewhat owlish in his glasses. 

A guard entered the room and gently pushed through the crowd, reaching Luna’s side and whispering something in Luna’s ear. Luna looked alarmed and dropped her cookie, half eaten, upon the floor. The guard turned and left with Luna in tow, and Rookwood was off of his chair in a moment, following after them, never once realising his hooves were not touching the floor. 

He fell in behind Luna as they went down the passageway, destination unknown. The guard turned to look at Rookwood, and then looked down, and then brought his head around and stared straight ahead. Luna, picking up on the guard’s concern, looked back at Rookwood and then gave a nod, before turning her head back to see where she was going. 

Rookwood realised he was drifting down the hall, half in, and half out of shadow, his legs little more than shadowy smoky trails of vapour. He shrugged and kept going, not caring, feeling a bit more comfortable traveling this way. 

Rookwood discovered they were heading to the infirmary wing, near the barracks. He had been half in and half out of shadow for a while now, and he was starting to feel it. He landed on solid legs and trotted to keep up with Luna. 

“Show off.” Luna said, her tone holding faint praise. It also held worry. And maybe a little anger. 

They pushed through a door and then stood in a room. Two foals lay in beds, looking odd. Faded. Grey. They had no colour, as though they had had the life drained out of them. 

“And more are incoming Mistress.” A guard grunted. “We are getting reports of odd disturbances all over the kingdom. Dark shadows cover the land.” 

Luna looked alarmed and concerned. She went over to the bed and stood over the foal, examining it, her horn glowing. “It is still asleep. It lies dreaming. Locked in slumber.” 

The guards in the room nodded. 

“Why didn’t we just wink here Luna? Seems the walk took precious time.” Rookwood asked. 

“Yes. Precious time for me to collect my thoughts, my emotions, and to collect my will. The walk allowed me to focus my efforts on the small amount of information the guard has given me.” Luna explained, her tone careful and measured, the tone of voice she used when teaching or making an important point. 

Rookwood nodded. 

“I am going in.” Luna said. “I must determine what is wrong.” 

“I am going with you.” Rookwood said. 

“No.” Luna commanded. “Too much is unknown. We do not know what we face.” 

“I cannot learn if you don’t allow me to take risks with you.” Rookwood reasoned. 

Luna nodded. “Very well. Be on your hooves. I will guide you in.” 

The room distorted wildly and went dim, as Rookwood felt himself tugged into shadow and drawn into the mind of the foal in the bed. 



 

Before him was a tiny filly with exaggeratedly cute features and a moon cutie mark. She had a powder blue mane and tail, and a dark blue pelt. Rookwood realised he was much the same, now small, a colt foal, tiny, with stubby short legs. And large oversized glasses that probably made him look ridiculous. 

“I await your explanation.” Rookwood implored. 

“We are not in the regular dreamscape,” said Luna, “but within a foal’s mind. And something is terribly wrong. This foal has been scared to the verge of death. We are in non threatening forms. This is how I appear in the minds of the very young. And you are adorable. Oh my gosh!” Luna’s voice was squeaky and kind of lispy. 

Rookwood groaned and followed Luna as they ventured forward. The room they were in was inhabited by giants. A chair nearby towered over them. A door in front of them had to be fifty feet tall. It was disorienting and caused vertigo. Everything was stretched out and elongated. 

Luna stood in the door and paused, looking around. She backed up and whimpered in panic. “Look out! Hide!” 

Rookwood scrambled and hid behind a table leg as a massive thirty foot tall mare stood in the doorway, looking around the room. Terror gripped him, seizing his bowels, and he worried about his continence. Her hooffalls were terrible and shook the oversized house. She moved away from the door, into the room, and disappeared through another door, now gone from view. 

“What did I just see?” Rookwood whispered. 

“Do you not remember when you were young, how large and scary the world was? This is how it appeared. The rules are different here. Do not ever let a ‘mommy’ catch you out in the open. Bad things will happen. Very bad things. Now come on. While she is away.” Luna scooted through the doorway and into a kitchen. She prowled along the baseboard of the wall, moving quickly, her stubby little legs moving double time. 

Rookwood followed. 

“I think we’ll find what we want up here.” Luna said, looking up a massive flight of stairs.

“Are we teleporting or flying?” Rookwood asked. 

“Neither.” Luna said. “The rules are different here. These stairs represent an impossible barrier to the foal. Magic will not work here, at least not well, we are going to have to climb these somehow.” 

Rookwood stood on his hind legs, and could not reach the edge of the next step. 

“Lift me.” Luna commanded. 

Rookwood pushed Luna against the stair, and then pushed her upwards, planting his forehooves into her adorable little tuchus, shoving her upwards. He found himself looking away, not wanting to stare at what he usually liked to stare at. He felt embarrassed and ashamed. 

Luna scrambled up over the edge, pulling herself up, her hindhooves scraping as she tried scooting her back end up and over the edge. She turned, and reached a foreleg down to Rookwood, hooking his fetlock with hers, and then struggled to pull him up. 

“You’re heavy.” She panted, straining to pull him up and over the edge. There were at least a dozen stairs. 

“You’re as light as a feather.” Rookwood said. 

“Liar.” Luna said. “I have a fat pudgy puddin’ plot.” 

The two foals struggled to work their way up the stairs, Rookwood lifting, Luna pulling, Luna deathly afraid of mommy returning and seeing them. The process was exhausting and slow. Rookwood desperately wanted to stop and rest, but mommy could return at any moment, so Luna had driven them onwards. Eventually, they reached the top of the stairs. 

And before them stood a massive door. Tall. Luna pushed on it, but it didn’t budge. Luna grumbled and pouted adorably. 

“Now we are in trouble.” Luna announced. “Here is the part where we call out for the foal and hope they let us in… Or mommy comes and we flee.” 

“We cannot unlock the door?” Rookwood said. 

“No.” Luna replied. “Beyond this door lies the foal’s psyche. The safe place. The foal has retreated here, and will likely stay here, leaving the foal in a catatonic state. Perhaps for life. I need to get in there and fix what has been done.”

Rookwood pressed his horn against the door and pressed, focusing his will. 

“I’ve tried this so many times.” Luna quipped. 

Rookwood pushed harder, feeling a surge of anger, and more than just a little hatred for Nightmare Moon, who Rookwood knew was responsible for this, somehow. 

Luna waited, yawning. 

There was a click from the door.

“What the tartar sauce?” Luna looked annoyed. “That isn’t what I said. Silly rules.” 

“Tartar sauce.” Rookwood said. “Hey, I tried to say tartar sauce.” He paused, and looked angry. “No swearing? Really? I can’t curse? What if I try to say fudge?” Rookwood paused, hearing his own answer and grumbling in annoyance. 

“What you did was almost impossible and quite scary.” Luna said. “You forcibly opened somepony’s mind against their will. Do I need to explain to you how careful you need to be?” 

Rookwood felt cold fear creeping through his flesh. “I give you my solemn word, I will be careful and will do my utmost to never do harm.” 

Luna nodded, seemingly satisfied, and pushed open the door, revealing a foal’s bedroom. Toys were scattered on the floor. A bed was against the wall. Everything was oversized and giant. 

Luna strode in. “Hewwo?” Luna cried, her voice now changed to the most adorable and non threatening voice Rookwood had ever heard. It radiated friendly warmth. 

“What do you want?” A voice whimpered. “Who are you?” The voice came from under the bed. 

“I am Woona and this is Wookwood. We awe fwiends.” Woona said. “Wookwood would not harm a fwy.” Woona reassured. 

The foal was visible now, on the edge of light and darkness under the bed, her eyes wide and terrified. 

“She hurt me!” The foal whimpered. “She did bad things. Touched me in bad places.” 

“Who hurt you?” Woona asked, her voice now pained. 

“SHE did.” The foal replied. 

Woona sat back on her haunches, holding her forelegs open. She made a gesture. The foal darted from under the bed, straight to Woona, clinging to her and sobbing in her forelegs, Woona hugging her close. Wookwood went over and wrapped his forelegs around them both, drawing them in tight. 

“It was awful!” The foal sobbed. 

“I know.” Woona comforted. 

Rookwood felt himself being drawn into Luna’s will. And suddenly, he knew. He saw. Terrible images flashed through his mind. Nightmare Moon, now in the body of a stallion,  creeping into the foal’s room through the dreamscape, and pulling her into the room that Rookwood had once been in. He recognised the table. The tools. Everything. 

He saw terrible things. Unspeakable things. The things that Nightmare Moon had done to the foal’s body. Perverse things. And the foal had been left mostly lifeless, locked into a catatonic state, the foal retreating to the inner recesses of its mind to escape the brutal dream of torture and rape.

“I will make this all better.” Woona said soothingly. “Hwelp me Wookwood.” Woona planted her lips gently on the foal’s head, and Wookwood felt himself doing the same. There was an odd feeling of suction. And pain. Horrible pain. Every horror the foal had experienced was now going into Woona and Wookwood. It was as though they were drawing out poison, and poisoning themselves in the process. Rookwood could feel blades slicing through his flesh. White hot bits of metal jammed into delicate places. And the forced penetration of something entirely too large to fit into a hole entirely too small, and the ripping and tearing of flesh and the sound that it made while it happened. His brain burned with a terrible fire. 

“Better?” Woona asked. 

“I was afraid but I can’t remember what scared me.” The filly said, leaning into Woona and Wookwood. 

“A kwiss makes it all better.” Woona said, smiling. 

Without warning, Rookwood felt himself hurled into a black void. 



 

He awoke in the infirmary and puked all over the floor, spewing eggnog, mulled wine, and festive holiday cookies. He fell over into his own puke puddle, nearly drowning as he struggled to gasp and breathe. Something lifted him. He gagged and choked. Something whacked him on the back, hard, and the contents lodged in his throat flew out. 

“BREATHE!” Celestia commanded. 

Rookwood took a deep ragged breath and puked again, his mind flooded with terrible nightmarish images. Pain shot through his backside as the foal’s memories now merged with his own, and he could feel the painful penetration the foal had experienced. Rookwood screamed raggedly, his screaming cut off with more vomit, nearly causing him to choke again. 

“DID I TELL YOU THAT YOU COULD STOP BREATHING?” Celestia demanded. 

Rookwood took a few struggling gasps, hanging in midair, and then began to scream again, his backside on fire with what felt like a  burning iron rod being jammed up his plothole. 

He felt himself being pulled into a bed and being crushed, held down as he began to seize and thrash, his body experiencing violent tremors. 

Legs pinned him. White ones. Stiff and unyielding as marble. 

“Be calm. I have you. It is over.” Celestia whispered. 

Rookwood tried to slow his ragged breathing. He heard Luna puking. He saw sad concerned faces looking at him. Guards. Cadance. Shining Armor. Twilight Sparkle. He felt Celestia rise up off of him, freeing him, and standing next to him. “Just keep breathing.” She soothed. 

Rookwood leaned his head over the bed and barfed again, steaming vomit splattering upon the floor. He looked around the room, his head wobbling weakly, and noticed there were now five foals in the room. And more would probably come. All of them tortured and raped, violated, and he and Luna were going to have to go in and try to free them. He felt a sob escape his throat. His head sank down onto the bed, sour vomit still stuck inside his nostrils, and lamented the torments that awaited him. Nightmare Moon was torturing him and Luna both by proxy now. 





Rookwood lay in a bed, recovering from exiting from the third foal this night. A total of eight foals in the room now. Part of him felt dead inside. His brain was numb. There was nothing left to vomit. Pain wracked his body. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. But he would not shirk his duties, and would not leave Luna to face the darkness alone. His pucker burned and he now understood what it felt like to be gang raped, or at least a close approximation. He heard Luna weeping nearby in the dim room and a faint murmur from Twilight Sparkle who was trying to comfort her. The second time he had exited, Rookwood had shat himself explosively, and Rookwood burned with the embarrassing knowledge that it had been Celestia who had cleaned him up. She hadn’t said a word, other than to comfort him, but it was a strange and awkward moment. 

Dawn soon approached. Rookwood felt weak. He wasn’t sure if he could handle another trip into the dreamscape. Luna’s sobbing only fanned the fires of hatred and rage that burned in his stomach. 

Rookwood dry heaved and gagged, the pressure causing his plothole to burn with horrific heat. 

Rookwood felt a chill enter the room, and he raised his head from the sudden flow of adrenaline that now coursed through his body. Fear prickled through his body. He heard Luna scream weakly, her voice hoarse and nearly gone. 

Much to Rookwood’s surprise, he still had something left in him. He stumbled out of bed, his worry for Luna his primary motivation. He heard gasps from the guards. The room was now icy. He could see his breath. It was cold enough to hurt his skin. 

He heard booming laughter. 

Rookwood turned, and saw something in the corner. The guards had all backed away. It was something hard to see. It seemed half in and half out of shadow. Rookwood heard something like water dripping. The figure shrouded in shadow moved forward, and Rookwood heard little wet sucking sounds as it walked. He heard wet squelching. 

It was a foal. But it was not a foal. Not any longer. In the dim light, Rookwood could see the foal had no skin. No eyelids. One eye was gone. Teeth were all visible, the lips and cheeks all gone. Bloody stumps wiggled along its sides. Blood dripped from its body. 

A guard moved forward and took a swipe, his hoof passing through. The guard began to back away, now in terror, something the lunar pegasi were not known for. 

The bloody skinned foal advanced on Rookwood. 

“Necromancy!” Celestia hissed. 

“I have a message.” The skinned foal spoke in Nightmare Moon’s voice. 

It continued to advance on Rookwood, who stood his ground. He had his head raised defiantly, his nostrils flaring, standing between the foal and Luna. 

“What do you want?” Rookwood demanded. 

“I have what I want!” Nightmare Moon’s voice said, echoing through the room, maniacal laughter pealing from the walls. 

“Do you now? Then why are you here?” Rookwood spat, his voice sounding as though he had been gargling with broken glass and gravel. 

“I wanted to wish you a happy Hearth’s Warming!” The foal said, lunging forward and touching him with a hoof. 

Rookwood felt reality tear away from him and he sank into blackness. 



 

Rookwood was in the room, on the table, chained down. Only something was wrong. The table was too large. The room was too big. Rookwood slowly realised with dawning horror that the room was still the same, it was his body that had changed. He looked down at saw a dark purple pelt. 

He heard a faint cry come from the foal’s lips. His own lips. Rookwood struggled against the chains, to no avail. 

There were no words, no monologuing. Rookwood saw a scalpel hovering in the air. Nightmarish pain flooded his small body as a shallow incision was made along his barrel and stomach, along each leg, around each wing joint, and then with a few deft strokes, his eyelids were gone, leaving him unable to close his eyes and not look. 

Rookwood could hear the tiny filly screaming the entire time. Something in his mind shut off, and the screams became dull and distant. 

Along one leg, he felt a terrible pulling sensation, a ripping blinding pain, and Rookwood could feel the skin being slowly peeled away, almost teasingly, as though was this just good playtime fun. He could hear the squish of flesh rending and ripping, the connective tissues being torn as the skin was pulled away an inch at a time. Eventually, one leg was free of skin, left truly naked, the muscles and bits of fat now left visible. 

He felt Nightmare Moon begin on another leg. 

Rookwood feared for his sanity. 

He desperately tried to think of Luna, to hold an image of her in his mind. He thought about his foal. He thought about Celestia. He thought about everything he could, trying not to think about the skin being peeled away from him, leaving him exposed and truly naked. Nightmare Moon was undressing him, and he had a terrible feeling of what awaited afterwards. This was foreplay. Dreadful foreplay. 

He felt his face being pulled off, slowly, carefully, almost lovingly. 

“I hunger” Nightmare Moon said into his now fleshless ear. “I long to taste the horrors that you have seen so far little one.” 

Rookwood felt lips touching the remains of his fleshless face, burning with electric pain. They moved over him, planting little kisses, until they paused over his eye. He could see her glaring down. Then, her mouth opened, her lips closing around the exposed eye. There was a dreadful feeling of suction, and then with a “POP!” the eye was freed from the socket and was sucked into Nightmare Moon’s toothy maw. Rookwood felt Nightmare Moon bite down slowly upon the eyeball, and then the cord that connected the eye was violently ripped away as Nightmare Moon devoured her snack. 

“The horrors you have borne witness to are delicious…” Nightmare Moon teased, her mouth opened and closed, the jellied remains of the eye visible as she spoke. Some of it dribbled down her chin, and she licked her lips in an oddly sensual manner. Her tongue whipped out and teased the empty socket, licking and probing. “I’ll have to play with that later.”

The skinning continued. It seemed to take forever. 

Where then was no flesh left to peel off, the wings gone and ripped away, Nightmare Moon ended the foreplay and got down to business. 

Rookwood could feel the first slick penetration, sliding between slippery skinless little plot cheeks. Something inside of him broke and he begin to drift away. He felt pressure. Pain. But it was distant now. Every orifice down below was violated, the foal's insides ripped and torn to shreds by the violent sex. 

Rookwood was trapped in the bloody nearly lifeless remains. Nightmare Moon was using the worst sorts of magics to keep the foal alive now, somehow, Rookwood could sense that. 

He heard Nightmare Moon’s terrible laughter. It was almost over now. He could barely feel anything at all. And then, he saw it, the massive nightmare phallus, dark, black, covered in blood and viscera, slick with feces and unmentionable horrors. He saw it, inches from his face. 

Rookwood had time for one final breathless scream as the massive phallus was rammed into his eye socket and destroyed his tiny brain. 



 

Rookwood couldn’t move. Before him was the bloody skinned foal, lying in a bloody heap on the floor. It was sobbing now. 

Rookwood struggled, trying to will life back into his limbs. 

All around him he saw faces frozen in horror. He heard somepony puke, and then another, until much of the room was puking and retching. 

And the foal continued to sob. 

Rookwood struggled to raise his head. 

“I’m so cold.” The foal sobbed. 

It was a tiny squeaky voice. Not Nightmare Moon’s voice. 

The foal began to move, twitching slightly, wing stumps wiggling. 

“I am so cold and scared. And everything hurts!” 

Rookwood began to crawl forward, pulling himself ahead with his forehooves and kicking with his hindhooves. 

Rookwood heard Celestia stumble and cry out, falling to the filthy floor, and then getting sick.

He crawled, scraping over the floor, until he was close enough to touch the skinless remains of what had once been a foal. He gently placed a hoof over it, wrapping a leg over it, and pulled it closer, hugging it closely to his chest. 

The foal was solid for him, as something in his brain told him it would be. 

It sobbed against him, obscene liquids dribbling from one eye socket, something white, pink, and grey all at once dribbling out of the gaping eye socket. Rookwood could feel cold sticky blood soaking his pelt. There was a sickening salty smell of sex. 

“What is your name?” Rookwood croaked. 

“Violet.” The foal said, taking a few times to get the words out. It spoke with out lips, more ghost than anything else. 

“What do you remember?” Rookwood said. 

“I dunno. I just woke up here a moment ago. My name is Violet. That is all I know.” The foal was quieting now. “It hurts all over. My backside hurts to sit on.” 

“I know little one.” Rookwood said, his voice straining. He didn’t need to see the foal’s backside to know the gaping wounds he would find there. The foal was collapsed against his neck, breathing into his ear. Rookwood had no idea how or why the foal was drawing breath. 

“I’m sleepy.” Violet said. “So sleepy. But I am afraid to go to sleep.” 

“Why Violet?” Rookwood said, his voice full of grit. 

“I dunno. Something out there. In the dark. It never stops laughing.” Violet sniffled and cuddled closer to Rookwood. Rookwood felt faint, trying to ignore the feelings of revulsion as the skinless remains of the foal cuddled against him. He could feel muscles twitching and blood oozing from severed blood vessels. Violent was cold and soggy against his pelt. 

“You’re warm.” Violet said, her wavering voice filled with gratitude.

Rookwood heard weeping from around the room. He closed his eyes, trying not to think about what it was that he was about to do, and gently kissed Violet, his lips touching just behind the nub where her ears used to be. A sour taste lingered on his lips. 

“I saw everything. I saw everything. Everything. EVERYTHING!” Twilight Sparkle sounded near hysterical. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep again. No no no. Never again. No more sleep! Never ever. No more sleep.” 

Rookwood heard a body tumble to the floor, it sounded like it had landed in a puddle. 

“I’m sleepy and I’m scared.” Violet whimpered. “And she sounds scared.” 

“It’s going to be alright Violet” Rookwood promised. 
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 14
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Rookwood reclined in a chair, holding the skinned foal wrapped in a blanket. She had disappeared when the sun had rose, blinking out of existence, and had returned when the sun had set and darkness fell upon the land. 

He had spent a little time with her, before going into the dreamscape with Luna and continuing their work, pulling foals from the prisons of their mind. It was exhausting, emotionally and physically, and the pain had reached levels that Rookwood was no longer sure he could bear. There were reports of terrible dreams all over Equestria, this day just after Hearth’s Warming. 

Violet sniffled and squirmed, she was shivering and cold. 

Rookwood planted a gentle kiss once again upon Violet’s head and then raised his gaze to Luna. 

“What?” Rookwood asked, seeing Luna staring at him. 

“I cannot believe you are doing that.” Luna said numbly. 

“Doing what?” Rookwood replied, his voice low with exhaustion. 

“Kissing her.” Luna returned. 

“You said a kiss makes everything better.” Rookwood retorted. 

“I guess I did.” Luna responded, hanging her head. She lay on the bed and she did not look well. 

“She deserves to be comforted.” Rookwood said. “Hasn’t she suffered enough? I must confess, it is difficult. Every time I touch her, I get flashbacks. Feelings. Sensations. Pain. I remember what happened.” 

Luna groaned, her features expressing pain. “And still you comfort her? My dear Rookwood, what am I to do with you?” 

Rookwood shrugged. It would be dawn soon. 

“I feel sleepy.” Violet said, yawning. Rookwood’s stomach rolled violently from the horrific sight. The little skinned foal snuggled her head down into the crook of Rookwood’s neck, where his neck met his chest. 

“Are you my daddy?” Violet asked in a small pleading voice. 

Rookwood felt bile rising in his throat. He felt sick. He struggled to not be ill. 

“Do you remember your daddy?” Rookwood replied, his voice cracking. 

“I thought you were.” Violet answered. 

Rookwood heard Luna begin to sob again. It had happened many times this night. 

“Are you?” The foal asked insistently, her voice threatening to break from emotion. 

“Yes, yes I am.” Rookwood said, trying to sooth the foal. 

“Would you read me a story before I go to sleep?” Violet pleaded. 

“Luna, I hate to ask, but could you fetch a book or something?” Rookwood asked. 

Luna did not move, but her horn flashed. A book dropped on the bed. She looked at it. “You know,” said Luna, “you are going to have a tough time holding her and trying to hold the book.” 

Rookwood nodded. 

“So I guess I’ll read to Violet. If that is alright. Is it, little one?” Luna said. 

Violet was quiet for a moment before saying “Yes.” 

“Mr. Buns big adventure.” Luna began, settling in for a story about a rabbit that braved leaving his comfortable rabbit hole to have a big adventure. 



 

It would be sundown soon. Luna lay beside him in the bed, awake, but unmoving. Rookwood ached. Everywhere. He had been skinned. Burned alive. Branded. And there was rape. Plenty of rape. And the physical sensations left behind from the dream imagery hurt just as much as the real thing. Movement of any sort made his plot feel like it was going to split and fall apart. 

“I can fix it for you.” Luna said, her voice a near monotone. “I can go into your mind and take it all away. You shouldn’t have to live with what you’ve seen. Or experienced.” 

“Don’t you dare!” Rookwood hissed angrily, causing Luna to draw away from him. “How dare you even say such a thing.” 

“I..” Luna started. 

“Shut up! Never, ever say that to me ever again! I don’t ever want to hear those words leave your lips! How dare you cheapen everything I’ve gone through, what I’ve had to endure, everything I’ve been made to experience!” Rookwood growled. 

“I’m sorry!” Luna said, starting to cry. 

Rookwood found he could not stay angry. He rolled on his side and looked at Luna, his eyes wide, his breath hot and heavy in his nostrils. 

“I didn’t know… I didn’t mean…” Luna tried to say. 

“Shush.” Rookwood said, gazing at her. 

Luna shushed. 

“I do not have any regrets over what I have done. Or anything I have gone through. I am a better pony for having experienced it. It hasn’t been easy, and I suspect it will get worse. But when I said I would willingly go into the darkness with you, I meant it damnit! And don’t you ever try to diminish my efforts ever again.” Rookwood whispered, looking Luna in the eye. “I might be some dumb lovesick colt that is in way over his head, but I am willing to be where I am. For the first time in my life, my life has meaning and I am doing something that makes a difference. And don’t you ever try to take that away from me, or so help me, I will have some words with you.” 

They lay together for a long time, silent, Rookwood slowly realising that there were no light sources at all in the room and that he could see. The realisation made his spine and neck prickle uncomfortably. How far had he come into the dark? 

“Violet will arrive soon.” Luna whispered, her voice filled with a dreadful shudder. “If you are to be her father, what does that make me?” 

“I can’t say.” Rookwood replied. “That is up to you.” 

Rookwood heard Luna whimper in the darkness. He wanted to pull her closer, but he was in too much pain to do so. He settled on touching her with his nose. Which hurt. A lot. He was filled with instant regret. 

“I cannot let you do this alone.” Luna cried softly. “Not after all you have done. But I can hardly to bear to look at her. I can touch her, just so you know.” 

“I need a bath. I’m too sore to move.” Rookwood confessed. 

“I am as well.” Luna replied. 

Rookwood heard the distant sound of running water and sighed with relief. Magic was entirely too useful, when it wasn’t being used to destroy his mind and wrack his body. 

“I am adding medicinal salts.” Luna said. “Be prepared. I am going to wink us there directly to the water. Don’t drown.” 

“I can wink my self.” Rookwood protested. “Your magic pulls on my body and feels funny.” 

“Really?” Luna said with some small concern. “How odd.” 

“Luna, things are getting weird. I gotta confess, I can see everything in this room right now.” Rookwood said. 

“There are no lights in here at all Rookwood. I have blotted out all possible forms of light to allow us to heal as much as possible. Even I can’t see in here.” Luna said, her voice a hissing sibilant shiver. 

“I see everything.” Rookwood replied, feeling a dreadful sense of apprehension. “And I can see you winking one eye and then the other.” 

“Impossible.” Luna said. “How?” 

“You tell me!” Rookwood said, the first hint of panic now in his voice. 





The soak in the tub had helped immensely, soothing aching muscles and minds. After that had been a meal, Luna chowing down and Rookwood eating very little. And then, slowly, the sun had set and their nocturnal visitor had come. 

Violet looked quite different upon her arrival, her body scabbed over, some of the scabs cracking and oozing as she moved, causing her to cry out and whimper. Stranger still, her body had warmth. Faint, almost unnoticeable, but it was there. The hairless cord that was her tail twitched fitfully as she slowly stumbled through the room, going for Rookwood, crying out and comforted to see him, leaving little bloody hoofprints as she ran. 

Rookwood kissed her gently on the head, and Luna did as well, Luna even managing to get up enough courage to hug the small foal in a squeamish embrace. The hot salty smell of sex was now gone from the foal, leaving only the scent of rot and wrongness to contend with. 

Celestia had been in the room when Violet had appeared, as was Cadance, Shining Armor, and Twilight Sparkle, all of them watching, waiting, horrified to see her, but unable to look away. Celestia had tried to touch the foal, but could not, her hoof passing through, registering nothing. Cadance cried while Shining Armor tried to comfort both her and Twilight Sparkle. 

Luna had once again read the foal a story, and then put her to bed, placing her body into a small bed brought to the room by Celestia. Violet had protested, fearful of the dark, afraid to sleep, but eventually drifted off while Rookwood sat near her. 

She lay in the bed, oozing blood from her cracked scabbed body, resting fitfully, unable to close her eye because she had no eyelid. She lay on her side, the side with no eye, leaving the other to stare blankly while she drifted off. It took a while to figure out if she was asleep. 

It was her breathing. Ragged wheezing gasps. Slow. And filled with pain. The entire room suspended in utter silence, listening to the ragged breathing of the ghoulish undead foal. 

The group had left the foal sleeping, under the watch of the guard, moving into a private chamber near Luna’s quarters, where Luna occasionally received visitors. It had been decorated with a tree, which had been covered in small lights, now the only lights in the room, which were painfully bright to Rookwood. 

Twilight Sparkle could no longer take the darkness and lit her horn, creating a small halo of light that illuminated her face, revealing her bloodshot eyes and pinched features. She didn’t look well. None of them looked well. 

Rookwood could no longer tell what he looked like, because he no longer cast a reflection. He wondered how to tell Luna. She was worried enough about him, and learning that he could see in magical darkness had unnerved her. 

Rookwood felt a pang of sorrow, knowing that he was losing himself to darkness. He could feel the change. He noticed it when he tried to eat. He hoped it was simply because of his state of mind, but he had a terrible sense of dread that something else was happening. He felt uncomfortable in his own body. His body was full of pain. It hurt to sit. To eat. To do anything after what he had experienced. When in shadow form, he found himself not wanting to return to his flesh, resenting the fact that he had to. Conflict was forming between his flesh and what Rookwood felt to be his true nature. 



 

“You love my aunt a great deal, don’t you?” 

Rookwood glanced at Cadance. She looked tired. She was clearly unable to sleep. Her features were haggard. She looked gaunt somehow, like she had been hollowed out. 

“Rookwood, I do not know you all that well, but I must warn you, do not succumb to your hate. If you want to love my aunt, let go of any hatred you might have. It will drag you kicking and screaming into the deep dark, a place I know you do not wish to go. And if you go there, Luna will follow. And that would be disastrous.” Cadance warned. 

“I’m trying,” replied Rookwood, “I really am, but with everything that’s just happened… I feel the hate creeping in.” 

“A bit of wisdom for you?” Cadance offered. 

“Sure.” Replied Rookwood. 

“The opposite of love is not hate. It is indifference. Hate is just as much a passion as love can be. And both can rule your life. Love tends to lift, while hate has heft. One will lift you up, the other will drag you down. I want Luna happy… She deserves that. Lift her.” Cadance said softly. 

Rookwood nodded, hearing Cadance’s words. 

“And you are very brave for loving Violet. I don’t know that I could do that.” Cadance confessed. “I cannot imagine what you must feel seeing her or touching her. I… I saw everything that happened. We all did. If you ever need an ear to talk to, I am here to listen to you Rookwood. Even if I am in the Crystal Empire, there are ways to contact me.”

“I will try to keep in touch.” Rookwood promised. “I will admit, I feel fragile after everything that has happened. I don’t feel right. Like I am not my self.” 

“I don’t think any of us feel right.” Cadance said. She glanced at Shining Armor, who was sleeping, propped up on a couch against his sister, Twilight. “It will be a long time to heal from this.” 

“Luna offered to scrub my mind. I snapped at her. I was angry.” Rookwood said, taking advantage of Luna being off in her chambers to spend a quiet moment with Celestia. “I was so angry. I felt like she was offering to remove everything I fought for.” 

“She was trying to spare you your pain. Much like she did for the foals she pulled from catatonic states.” Cadance said. 

“I want my pain.” Rookwood hissed, causing Cadance to start. “My struggle defines me.” 

“I… I am sure it does.” Cadance stammered. 

“I was a nopony!” Rookwood muttered, his tone slightly manic. “My life was nothing. Nothing at all. I was worthless. And look at me now. It isn’t much, and it might amount to endless suffering, but it means something.” 

“Rookwood, calm yourself.” Cadance said shakily. 

“I am calm.” Rookwood uttered caustically. “I spent my whole life just letting life happen. Now I have the means to do something and I intend to do so.” 

“What do you intend to do?” Cadance asked, her voice trembling. 

“I intend to free Luna from Nightmare Moon’s curse. No matter the cost.” Rookwood began to rock back and forth slightly. 

“That is very noble of you Rookwood.” Cadance said carefully. “But do not throw your life away recklessly. It would hurt Luna so very much. Fight together. Just do not do anything foolish.” 



 

Violet awoke sometime around three in the morning, stirring in her tiny bed, the blankets damp with blood. crying feebly, causing Luna and Celestia both to start with alarm. 

Luna reached out to the foal with her magic, wrapping her carefully in a blanket, and then pulled her close. She positioned the foal against her side carefully, and then placed a wing over her, trying to sooth Violet’s cries. 

Rookwood materialised in the doorway a moment later, coming out of shadow with an eerie silence. He entered the room, passing Celestia who lay on a large sofa, approaching Luna and kissing her softly. A single candle burned on a low table near the sofa. It was piercingly bright to Rookwood’s eyes. 

Rookwood lay down on the floor with Luna, sprawling out on the rug, easing himself down carefully. Violet was wedged between them. 

She squirmed, making odd gurgling sounds. 

“Are you alright Violet?” Rookwood whispered. 

Violet nodded. “Just hurts all over.” 

“I know.” Rookwood soothed. He carefully kissed her, hoping he was not causing more harm, remembering how Nightmare Moon’s kisses felt on the fleshless face they had shared. 

“Does it hurt you when I touch you?” Rookwood asked, fearing the answer. 

“No.” Violet said. “It makes the pain go away.” 

Rookwood heaved a sigh of relief and then felt queasy. 

“Violet?” Celestia asked. 

“What?” Violet replied.

“Do you remember anything at all?” Celestia inquired. 

“Remember what?” Violet answered. 

Celestia sighed in frustration. “Nothing Violet. Never mind. I was asking a silly question.” 

“At some point, one of us needs to enter into her mind and see if there are any clues as to what happened.” Rookwood said. “How she physically got pulled into the dreamworld and uh, well, everything that happened after that.” He looked down at Violet, who was staring at him with one large unblinking eye. 

“Not a good idea.” Luna said. “I doubt we would find anything except more pain. Some things are better left unknown. It is very curious though that she seems to be healing. Or at least, scabbing over. And she’s warmer. It is most puzzling.” 

“I have never heard nor seen of this sort of necromancy.” Celestia interjected, her tone worried. “Violet completely baffles me.” 

“Is something wrong with me?” Violet asked. 

“No Violet. We are merely puzzled about a few things about you.” Rookwood said soothingly. 

“Like why I am a bloody mess?” Violet replied. 

“Yes.” Luna said, looking at the skinned foal. “We are trying to figure you out so we can help you and so you won't hurt. You shouldn’t have to hurt.” 

Rookwood felt a dreadful feeling of apprehension as his body told him that the sun would be rising soon. 
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 15
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Rookwood came to reality as a rabbit. This was not a normal state of affairs, but nothing was normal any more. Normal had been tied down to a stone table and tortured to death by Nightmare Moon. He was deep inside the earth, down inside of his rabbit hole, where it was dark, safe, secure, and warm. He had a cute little fluffy tail and a tawny hide, long floppy ears, and big broad feet. 

Rookwood was Mr. Bun. 

Rookwood began to feel a creeping sense of caution. He couldn’t tell if it was because he knew he was dreaming, because he was a rabbit, or because he was waiting for Nightmare Moon to pop out from someplace and get right down to the torture and the rape. 

The rabbit hole seemed utterly and completely secure. 

Rookwood, like Mr. Bun, moved upward through the hole, towards the light, seeing it off in the distance, faint, luminous, inviting. It didn’t take long for Rookwood the rabbit to scurry through the earth and find his way to the surface. 

And it was glorious. He could feel the sun, he could feel the golden warmth radiating into his hide, flooding his being with life, removing aches and pains the little rabbit was not even aware he had had. Rookwood, now Mr. Bun, stood once again in the sun and didn’t burst into flames. And it was wonderful. Life affirming even. Rookwood had trouble fathoming the sheer joy that he felt. 

He emerged from the hole,, leaving the shadowy confines, feeling tender grass beneath his toes… What an odd sensation having toes. He nibbled at the inviting grass, cool, moist, delicious. There was life here. Living things. The sepulchral darkness was gone. A vast field of clover was nearby, smelling sweet and full of bees industriously collecting pollen. 

Rookwood struggled, trying to discern some sort of threat. He could barely even tell he was dreaming. This all felt so real. He was Mr. Bun, from the bedtime story that Luna had read to Violet, and he was going to have an adventure. 

Mr. Bun had lived a remarkably pleasant and simple life. He had ventured forth, found a she rabbit, and she became Mrs. Bun. Mr. Bun had all of the luck. No horrors, no nightmares, the scariest thing Mr. Bun encountered was a road, where ponies pulled carts, and the ponies had stopped for him, being the kind considerate creatures that they were, and they had waited for him to pass, both coming and going, when he returned with the soon to be Mrs. Bun. 

It was an overly simple story and Violet had loved it, taking a great deal of comfort from the story, as foals were prone to do. They could endure almost anything if you sat down and read them the right story, cuddling them as the pleasant and saccharine words were spoken. 

Rookwood discovered he could bound and hop from place to place, doing so with the greatest ease, his long powerful hind legs propelling him effortlessly over the earth. The damp grass tickled his belly, and tickled something else as well. He felt a strong urge… A need to find himself a Mrs. Bun. Rabbits had marvelous urges, urges that Rookwood found remarkably similar to his own. Free from his tortured body that had been ravaged by unspeakable horrors and rape, Rookwood felt his sex drive returning, something that had vanished during the events of the last week or so. 

He stopped and nibbled at some clover, having left the safety of the rabbit hole. The world was bright, clear, free of the ever present darkness. There were so many riotous colours. Vivid blues. Vibrant yellow. Verdant greens. 

The clover was sweet and succulent, tender, and filled him with need. He devoured it, his little fuzzy mouth chewing frantically, his rabbit nose twitching, one ear quivering slightly. The clover he consumed flooded his body with the feeling of life… He hadn’t eaten much out in the real world lately. The flavour of the clover was almost orgasmic on his little rabbit tongue. 

He hopped and bounded, leaping from place to place, from sunny patch to shaded patch, running riot through the lush green fields, enjoying all that life had to offer. In the distance, he saw a run down wooden fence, there was a well with a dilapidated leaning roof over it, and off in the distance, Rookwood knew there would be a road with ponies pulling carts. 

He bounded towards the road, as ponies were gregarious creatures. 

He approached the well, pausing to rest in the shade on the side opposite the sun, feeling a cool sensation, and then walking out into the sun again, reveling in the contrasts between the shade and the sunshine filled world. He stepped between the two places, pausing in both shade and sunshine, feeling the contrast, the difference, the pleasant subtle sensations of both, feeling all too familiar with one and all too strange to the other. 

He stood at the edge of the road, watching the ponies pass. They stared at him curiously, stopping, waiting for him to cross. He took one careful step into the road, smiling a little rabbit smile at a mare who was smiling at him pleasantly. 

Two steps into the road, Rookwood was snatched by a swooping raptor, bourne into the air by powerful wings. “Look out!” Cried the mare, no longer smiling, watching him being snatched away in powerful talons, Rookwood’s rabbit screams filling the air. 

Rookwood felt the terrible talons digging into his flesh, crushing his body, splintering one of his bones in his leg. He squirmed and struggled, determined to not go quietly. He sank his large buck teeth into the leg muscles of the raptor, biting down, through feathers and flesh, into muscle, his teeth thudding off of bone. 

Rookwood heard the raptor screech and let go of him. He was so high up in the air though, the ground a dizzying distance below him. And now, he was in a much worse situation. The raptor might have killed him cleanly and relatively quickly. Now, he was going to fall to his death, and there was plenty of time to think about it. 

He could see splintered bits of bone protruding through his leg and felt the air rushing through his fuzzy hide. Pain wracked his body, but it wasn’t so bad really. He was becoming dead to pain. It was there, finally flooding this new body, but he found he could deal with it. 

The terror of falling wasn’t something he could deal with however. He struggled to wake up, to poof out of existence, to flee this new nightmare. 

Nothing he did worked. 

The ground rushed ever closer to meet him, the colours now seemed garish and undesirable. The sunlit world had lost its appeal. He longed for the pleasant darkness of his rabbit hole and regretted ever leaving. The faint taste of clover in his mouth turned bitter. 

He collided with the ground with a wet splatter, feeling his body pop, his insides bursting, his organs scattering everywhere, forming a gruesome puddle, and Rookwood felt all of it before he died. 



 

“Rookwood!” 

Rookwood struggled back into terrible waking world, his body ablaze with terrible pain. 

“Rookwood, she took you again and I couldn’t stop her… Speak to me, I need to hear your voice.” Luna begged. “I couldn’t see… I couldn’t find my way in. You were completely gone from me!” 

Rookwood groaned, struggling to draw breath, his gaunt body aching. His breath rattled in his lungs. His throat was dry and his lips were cracked. 

A painful light burned in the room, a single tiny mote of magical light, floating around above the bed, a tiny ball of light the size of a pea, bobbing around, the silver light stabbing Rookwood’s eyes with white hot needles. 

Rookwood closed his eyes. 

“Rookwood, you look terrible. You really need to eat. I… Fear for you.” Luna said, shuddering. 

“Sundown soon.” Rookwood said. “Violet time.” 

Luna nodded in the faint light, her head high, laying on her belly, looking down upon Rookwood. He had been scrawny at the best of times, now he was looking nearly skeletal. The past week had been hard on both of them. 

Violet seemed to improve as Rookwood seemed to deteriorate. She was growing flesh back now, raw red ragged flesh, skin returning to her shambling meaty form. The bloody stumps of her wings were wings now, at least the bare naked limbs, with no feathers. Eyelids began to form crude beginnings, one beginning to wrap around her remaining eye, the other closing up the gaping ragged socket. 

Luna eased herself from the bed, landing silently upon her hooves, moving silently over the floor, pulling Rookwood along in her magic, hauling him into the bathroom, where she had already been drawing a bath. The silver mote of light followed, bouncing around in the darkness, not wanting to leave Luna’s side, as though it were afraid of the darkness. 

As Luna entered the bathroom, she froze, seeing something that caused her to nearly drop Rookwood from her magical grasp. Her mouth opened and closed, words failing, her eyes going wide, the teal irises becoming tiny pinpricks in a sea of white. 

Luna screamed, a terrible sound in the bathroom, ringing from the tiles, causing Rookwood to recoil in pain. He writhed, trying to cover his ears with his hooves. 

Luna realised she was alone in the mirror, seeing herself in the faint silvery light. 

She took a few much needed deep breaths, and then said nothing, gently lowering Rookwood into the water. She stood on the edge of the tub, trying to gain control of her emotions. 

“How long have you known?” Luna whispered. 

“A while now.” Rookwood replied, sinking into the water. The warmth of the water seemed to revitalise him, his voice sounding a little more sure, his tone a bit more steady. 

Luna stepped into the water, carefully, it was hot and it stung pleasantly. Her ethereal mane and tail becoming solid and real as the water touched it. 

“That light is painful.” Rookwood complained. 

“I cannot bear the darkness any longer. It has become oppressive. It scares me.” Luna said. 

“I know Luna. I’m sorry. And I’m worried that I am becoming the very thing that frightens you.” Rookwood mumbled, settling comfortably into the water. He felt a little strength returning. 

“Don’t say that Rookwood. Please. I know you said you would follow me into the darkness, but that is no longer the case. Now, I feel as though I am following you… And it scares me. You're falling into a place I am afraid to go… And I am worried.” Luna’s tone was filled with concern. “If you do not eat this evening, I will thrash you to within one inch of the end of your life.” 

“I am trying Luna, I am.” Rookwood replied. 

“You are spending hours, hours dove into shadow now. Tonight, I want you stay in your body. No shadow diving. No drifting. No nothing. It is doing something to you. Something awful.” Luna complained. “Even I can’t stay submerged into shadow for hours like you do. It isn’t healthy for your living flesh.” 

“It comforts Violet when I am in shadow.” Rookwood said. “And she’s healing up. Starting to look like a pony again. Sort of” 

“I know. It scares me. And Celestia. Celestia worries that Violet might be draining you and sapping your vitality.” Luna replied. 

“And you?” Rookwood inquired. 

“And I am starting to worry as well.” Luna admitted. 

“I am getting stronger though.” Rookwood announced. “The fact that I can stay in shadow for hours… Doesn’t that say something about my abilities?”

“Perhaps, but I am not sure if the price on your body is worth it. I will confess, you are gaining in power rapidly. Nightmare Moon’s tortures may have given you strength rather than reduce you.” Luna said, only her muzzle above the surface of the water. Her mane swirled around her body in the tub. She looked like a Goddess framed in beauty laying in the water. 

Rookwood began to laugh, and it was not a pleasant sound in the dim confines of the bathroom. His laughter was manic, almost painful, his breath hitching unpleasantly as he laughed. 

“Stop!” Luna begged. 

Rookwood lapsed into silence. “I’m sorry.” He muttered.

“Your laugh is becoming too much like hers.” Luna uttered in a pain filled whisper. “I worry Rookwood, I am afraid.” 

“Luna, I am doing this for you. I will go where you would not dare.” Rookwood soothed. 

“I do not want you to go there! I want you with me! My destiny lies in darkness, not yours.” Luna whispered, her voice now frantic, sounding very much like she did when she was a filly in the dream Rookwood had visited, seeing her try to carve off her own cutie mark. 

“You don’t know that.” Rookwood retorted. “Your mark has darkness true, but what of my mark? A pony in profile… A shadow of its former self. Can you really say what lies ahead for me?” 

“No.” Luna confessed. “I cannot.” 

“Then we will go into the darkness. And I shall lead the way. I will not be afraid.” Rookwood replied. 

“But you should be!” Luna said frantically. 

“My life is short. I am perilously mortal. Your life will be long and you will do great things. And you will do them free of Nightmare Moon’s shadow. I am prepared to do whatever it takes to destroy her, even if it means my own end. I am going to die anyway. Nothing can stop that. I accept that. And I can either die as an old pony, knowing you live trapped in shadow, or I can offer up whatever is left of my brief existence to try and free you. Of course, I would rather die an old pony many many years after I destroy that bitch.” Rookwood chuckled. He couldn’t help it. The sound escaped his lips. It was defiant and angry sounding in the dim room. 

“I am so confused. This started off with a love sick colt willing to follow me into shadow, and now it seems, I am contemplating following you into the utter outer darkness.” Luna’s voice wavered, full of confusion, fear, and doubt. 

“The light died for me on Hearth’s Warming.” Rookwood confessed. He paused, thoughtful, collecting his mind. “I had the most wonderful dream. I was a rabbit. I was in beautiful green fields. I was in the sun again. I ate clover. I had toes. I saw the beautiful colours of the day. And then, a bird of prey took me, broke my body, and dropped me from up high. I splattered into the earth and died. And my only regret during the whole dream was leaving my rabbit hole and stepping into the light. I was Mr. Bun and my adventure did not end well.” 

Luna shivered. 

“You mustn’t put our foal in danger. If I should ever go into a place where you have doubts that you can follow, stay in the light. Leave me to the end of my own choosing. Nightmare Moon mustn’t have you or the foal. I worry.” Rookwood confessed. 



 

Rookwood once again found himself in the body of Mr. Bun. He wasn’t even aware that he had dozed off. Just a moment ago, he had been snuggling Violet, who was looking even better. Ears were beginning to form. 

The world was sunny and verdant. His rabbit hole was nowhere to be seen. The sky was a vivid shade of blue, a colour that Rookwood had not seen for quite some time now. It was a colour he feared was lost to him. The sweet smell of honeysuckle tickled his wiggling little bunny nose, causing it to twitch. 

He began to explore, looking upwards constantly, worried now about raptors. The sky seemed raptor free for the time being. There were no birds at all in fact. There was no bird song to fill the air. Rookwood the rabbit prowled the meadow, seeing trees in the distance, a mound, and way off on the other side of the meadow, he saw the fence and the lane where ponies walked and pulled carts. 

The grass was cool and damp pressing up against his belly. It tickled his little rabbit pecker, causing delightful sensations to travel up and down his spine, making his hips quiver. 

He tried to exit the dream and found that he could not. 

Rookwood felt a vague sense of worry. 

Apprehension caused different sensations to travel up and down his spine, and his little rabbit balls felt cold and prickly. His little cotton ball tail wiggled. 

There was an odd tearing sound, like paper being pulled apart, and there was a white flash. A blue rabbit appeared in the meadow, not far away, and a strangely familiar purple rabbit popped into existence next to her. The purple rabbit was little… A little bun. A child rabbit. It didn’t look well. It looked malnourished and frail. 

The blue rabbit looked at him curiously, and then began to look around at the world, her eyes wide and full of caution. Rookwood felt another shiver run through his body. The blue rabbit was very, very attractive for a rabbit. The little bun hopped over to him, smelling faintly of decay. She seemed happy, her little nose twitching, her ears flopping around wildly upon her head. 

Off in the distance, there was a faint crackle of thunder. A grey cast was now in the sky, and clouds began to roll in. 

The blue rabbit began to head for the tree line, hopping with surprising speed, and Rookwood gave chase. The little purple bun struggled to keep up, and Rookwood slowed, waiting for the little purple bun, who seemed grateful for Rookwood’s care and attention. A little wiggly nose pressed up against him briefly and they bounded away together. 

When they reached the tree line, the sky had turned dark. The wind was picking up. The air had become cold. The blue rabbit seemed to be searching for something as the wind began to whip into a frenzy. Rookwood was nearly lifted off of his feet. 

The blue rabbit found what she was looking for, and waved frantically. A hole, a space below the roots, a tiny den. Rookwood pushed the little purple bun in first, and then shoved the blue bun in against her will. She kicked and protested, even biting him at one point, drawing blood, but he ignored her protests and shoved her into the shallow den. 

There was no room for Rookwood. 

He stared down at her for a moment, and she stared back up at him. The wind began to pick up. There was a dull rumbling roar coming from someplace, it sounded like a locomotive barreling down the tracks. Rookwood’s ears whipped. The blue rabbit had grabbed him and was trying frantically to pull him into the hole, but he would not fit. He wrapped his forelegs around a tangled root and hung on for dear life, the wind now more powerful, and he saw why. A twister bore down on the treeline. 

The blue rabbit screamed with panic, the horrible screams of rabbits. There was a crack overhead, and a large branch fell from the tree, landing on Rookwood, crushing one leg, causing shards and splinters of bone to emerge from his flesh. 

The blue rabbit’s high pitched screams grew ever stronger in pitch and volume, her little blue paws digging at his fur, trying to draw Rookwood in, to hold him. 

Rookwood felt his grip slipping. His leg burned with pain, the wind whistling over the jutting bone. He clung to the root with small rapidly weakening forelegs. The blue rabbit’s screams were piercing in his drooping floppy ears. 

And then he was gone, sucked up into the twister, the blue rabbit’s screams fading rapidly in the roar of the wind. He swirled in the air, being tossed and thrashed around, powerless to stop the events taking place. A jagged bit of debris slashed his throat, ending his own screams, sending a geyser of blood spurting out into the wind, which wiped it into a fine mist. 

Lightning cracked and crackled, and a bolt struck Rookwood directly, setting him ablaze. He burned as he was flung through the air, his life blood spurting from his throat, his mouth opened in a now silent scream, his air hissing from the jagged tear in his throat. And he was on fire, his every nerve flaring with agony. 

He never felt himself smashing into the earth with a wet splat. 



 

“Rookwood? Speak to me damn you!” Luna pleaded. 

Rookwood raised a hoof and made a weak gesture. He could smell burning hair and his body was in agony. He was smoking slightly. Luna was holding Violet, pressed against her side. Rookwood could hear Violet sobbing. 

“Water!” Rookwood croaked. “No… wine!” 

Rookwood felt a cup pressed against his lips and he drank deeply, gulping it down, not feeling the warmth bloom in his throat. It was a strong red, something he was getting a taste for. He struggled in his chair, kicking out his hind legs, feeling searing sensation all over his skin. His leg ached. He was indeed, smoking slightly, but he was no burnt. No bones were broken. And his throat was whole. 

“You stuffed me in the hole!” Luna said angrily. 

“Shush.” Rookwood replied. 

Luna glared at him, her eyes fierce. She bared her teeth. “That was needless and stupid. I could have endured that. Haven’t you suffered enough?” 

“Shush.” Rookwood said again. “Or I will tell your sister.” 

“Get stuffed Rookwood.” Luna snapped. 

Violet whimpered. “Please don’t fight. He just wanted to keep you safe. He kept us safe.” 

Luna’s face became guilty, and she turned and regarded the skinned foal at her side. He expression continued to soften. Rookwood held his cup in his own hooves, guzzling the contents down. He felt dizzy and lightheaded. 

“You just drifted off.” Luna said. “And fell into shadow. I grabbed Violet before you dropped her. She came into the dreamscape with us. How odd.” Luna poured more wine for Rookwood. 

Rookwood continued to drink. A sane part of his mind told him that drinking this much when he had eaten so little was bad idea, but that voice had grown quiet and easy to ignore. 

“I love you.” Rookwood announced. “Entirely and completely. I regret nothing.” 

Luna was shocked into silence. 

Violet squirmed and made a low pitched squeal. She sounded strangely happy. 

“I love you as well Rookwood.” Luna finally said, her tone deep and full of fear, her voice trembling as though she was confessing something terrible. 
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 16 *
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Rookwood was having what he knew was a terrible idea. He thought of how he had found Luna, focusing on her, colliding with her in shadow, touching her mind unexpectedly. Rookwood wondered if he could do the same with Nightmare Moon. His mind blazed with the thought. If he focused on her long enough and hard enough, could he travel to wherever she was hiding and surprise her? Him? Rookwood wasn’t sure any longer… Nightmare Moon was clearly both. She had taken some of Rookwood’s male essence. And now she was using it for all manner of horrid violations. 

No more foals had arrived at the castle. It seemed that Nightmare Moon’s night of terror was limited to Hearth’s Warming, but there were nightmares. Terrible nightmares. The land was plagued with them. Insomnia was becoming a major problem. Nightmare Moon was roaming the dreamscape at will… 

And Luna began to notice her powers diminishing. She was rapidly becoming weaker and weaker as time passed, losing more and more influence within her own realm. 

Nightmare Moon was taking Rookwood regularly, driving him into weird dreams, dreams with different scenarios, but similar events, his leg breaking, a long fall, and burning alive. 

Except Rookwood wasn’t sure that it was Nightmare Moon. Luna insisted that it was, but Rookwood was beginning to suspect she was not the cause. It was a gut feeling. 

Nightmare Moon did not seem present in those dreams. In fact, she seemed strangely absent. Likely because she had found what she wanted, taken what she had needed, and was now loosed upon the world, spreading terror in the dream realms. 

Violet had skin now, and was even beginning to grow hairs, little rough patches of purple, and a navy blue mane and tail had began to sprout. Her stink of corruption was faint now. Rookwood had discovered, with some small sense of delight, that he could feed her cookies and other treats if he pulled them into shadow with him and offered them to her. She had cheeks now. And lips. She was still hideously scarred, and her skin was thin and tore easily with her movements. Her wings had fleshed out and the bare naked limbs remained folded against her body. 

Rookwood on the other hoof, looked much worse. Patches of grey had appeared in his blue and green mane. His face was pinched and gaunt. His avocado green pelt had faded somewhat, and now had an odd grey sheen to it. 

He radiated terror now. Luna and her lunar guards were immune, but Celestia had noticed it, and it was now impossible for Rookwood to be near the solar ponies without frightening them badly. Even Celestia felt it, a nameless unspeakable dread when Rookwood drew near. It wasn’t something he could control. Twilight Sparkle had been back to the castle several times, her and Luna trying to puzzle out what was going on. 

Rookwood was fading, that had been Twilight Sparkle’s conclusion. 

Rookwood agreed. He was losing his physical hold on reality as his shadow essence gained strength, his shadow and his flesh now in constant strife with one another. His flesh was holding him back… Rookwood came to this terrible revelation one night as he soared above Canterlot on black wings of shadow, Luna beside him. He had to drag his body everywhere, and it protested being drug into the darkness. He was not immersed in shadow, but shrouded, merging the solidified shadow with his body, allowing his corporeal form to soar above the clouds. It was a confused and chaotic feeling… Luna was trying to teach him control. Why bother flying when one could simply merge with the night and go from place to place effortlessly? Rookwood still didn’t understand. But the flight had been exhilarating, Luna with him, and a wing of guards, all gliding through the blackness, silent, terrifying apparitions soaring through the night. Violet had flown with them, secured on Luna’s back, the little skinned pegasus absolutely delighted to fly. 

Rookwood began to see what he felt were ominous signs, omens, little details he did not share with Luna or anypony else. Like two droplets of water than had fallen and formed an hourglass. Violet had split open and dribbled blood one night, and Rookwood saw the outline of a skull in the red liquid as it pooled on the floor. 





“Luna?”

“Yes Rookwood?” 

“You were worried about my physical needs… I have a physical need right now.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Yes, Luna, as awkward as it might be given everything that has happened, I still need you.” 

“Do you now…” 

“You are the only physical thing my body absolutely craves.” 

“Rookwood…” 

“I need you… I really need you. I need to feel something solid and real.” 

“Rookwood…” 

“I need to feel your warmth. Your love. I need to be inside of you. Against you.”

“Rookwood… stop. You are currently using your tongue in the wrong way. If you need me to sustain you, then take me. I have grown lonely for your touch. You grew distant after Hearth’s Warming. We both did. Not surprising, given what happened.” 

There was a single feverish kiss in the dark. 

“What of Violet?” 

“She slumbers in her bed. The guard will watch over her.”

“And what of us?” 

“We shall find someplace else to slake our lusts.” 



 

Rookwood writhed against Luna in the dark, hesitant to penetrate, to push in, feeling odd and awkward. Their bodies were entwined, legs wrapped around one another, necks pressed together, cheeks touching, panting into each other’s ears. 

As he pressed against her, his mind flashed images of all the terrible things he had witnessed. He pushed them away. One foreleg trailed down Luna’s long neck, keeping her close, not allowing her to pull away as she seemed to want to do. 

Rookwood also tried to pull away slightly, and Luna drew him tightly in, her muscles rippling along her belly, her dock flexing. 

“There is something I need from you…” Luna panted. 

“Anything my love, anything you ask.” Rookwood mumbled, his lips tickling against her ear. 

“I want to trust you… I want to let go… Of everything. Of past hurts and fresh hurts…” Luna gasped. 

“Just tell me what you want.” Rookwood replied, his breath heaving. 

“I want to lay on my belly or my side, and I want you to take me from behind. I do not want to be in control.” Luna whispered, her wings fluttering wildly. 

Rookwood froze. “No.” 

“No?” Luna answered, pulling away slightly. 

“After seeing you in that dream… What was done to you… I don’t know if I can.” Rookwood explained, his voice catching in his throat. 

“But that is why I need you. I want to trust you. I want to face my fears… I want to know that you will not hurt me even if you are in a position that you could.” Luna said, her eyes pleading. “I want to you feel you against my back, in the way that a mare should… And I want to feel you love me. I want to feel that I am vulnerable to you. That I am powerless in your embrace. And that you will choose not to hurt me.” 

“I think I understand.” Rookwood replied. “But I am not sure about this. This makes me nervous. I’m scared.” 

“I would never force you.” Luna said. “But I was expressing my need.” 

“I know.” Rookwood whispered. 

“You’re too short to mount me properly.” Luna giggled nervously. 

Rookwood gently bit down on Luna’s ear and gave it a tug, using his lips more than his teeth. Luna writhed against him. 

“Yeah, that like that.” Luna panted. “You could have hurt me, caused a sting, but you didn’t.” 

“Luna?” Rookwood whispered. 

“Yes beloved… Let us hope this talk ends quickly. I have needs.” Luna answered breathlessly. 

“I will do as you ask…” Rookwood grunted. 

Rookwood felt Luna roll against him, her body turning, her wings brushing up against him. After a few moments of struggle, he could feel her muscular back against him. 

“This feels awkward. And all I can think about is how you were torn open from behind.” Rookwood said, squirming as he spoke. 

“I know you will be gentle. I need to know you will be gentle. I want to know what it feels like to be a mare with a gentle lover upon her back. Please… “ Luna pleaded. 

Rookwood pondered the awkward situation. There was no way that Luna was actually vulnerable. With a flex of her muscles, she could crush his fragile body. Rookwood supposed this was more a symbolic act of trust. 

“This is all you,” Luna encouraged, “I’ve had my release several times over.” 

Rookwood pulled her closely, gently, mindful of how those gripping legs had felt when he had shared a body during the act of… He shoved the thought out of his mind. Luna needed something from him. He could feel the heat from her back flooding his barrel. This was new and sensuous, and he felt himself growing even more aroused as Luna arched her back and pressed herself up against him. 

“Find your way in… Be gentle. Be careful. I do not intend to guide you. This is all upon you.” Luna moaned, arching against him, flexing and stretching. 

Rookwood angled himself up under her dock, figuring that was a good place to start. He hissed as his tip trailed along her velvet curves, worried that too much sensation might make him go off. He slipped in between her cheeks, slowly, feeling the soft silken hairs tickle his shaft. He maneuvered up and down, feeling an opening, pressing gently, feeling Luna tense. 

Wrong opening. He realised it when his tip slid off and into the secret fold between her pucker and her dock. Rookwood took a deep breath, thankful that he didn’t start thrusting and jamming away. The idea of hurting Luna made his balls ache and his own pucker burn with sudden fiery pain, as he had felt far too many forced penetrations back there lately, of both Luna and others. It made him mindful of his every move, his every action, it made it slow and cautious. He angled himself farther down, rocking his hips to an odd new angle, and he felt something wet and inviting. Brushing up against it set him ablaze, causing him to shudder and his breath to hitch and gasp. He felt Luna tense against him, a little concerned moan escaping her lips. 

Rookwood realised he wasn’t kissing her… He was too busy concentrating. Trying to find a way in. Too much focus on the new situation. He felt the tip press a little deeper, into folds of feverish flesh, and then he struck solid flesh an inch or so in. He had found the right area, the entrance, but not the passage itself. He teased downward, feeling a hot rush in his balls, and he became aware he was holding his breath. He let it out in a long slow nearly sobbing gasp. Fear gripped him. What if he had urges? What if his crazed horny mind took over and he just lost all control? What if he was careful but thrust inward the wrong way and caused pain...

He had seen too much, felt too much, and now knew fear. 

Still, biting his lip, he continued, gently working his way in, feeling Luna rocking her hips back towards him, rolling them upwards to greet him as he entered. He pushed, slowly, finding the passage contained within her midnight folds, easing himself in. He could feel his tip pressing against her front wall, that area that Luna liked to have pressure on. He slowly ran a hoof down her side, placing his fore hoof over her cutie mark, and pulled her hips slowly to his, pressing in slowly inch by delicious inch. 

Unfortunately, Rookwood didn’t have a lot of inches. 

He stopped, pulling out slightly, causing Luna to wiggle and squirm, she made wordless muttering protests, her cries trying to urge him on. He slid himself downward along her back, creating delightful friction between them. 

He held himself at the very door of her soul, holding her, squeezing her, his breath hot on her neck. He pawed clumsily at her hips, his hoof trembling. 

“Rookwood, damn you, being a tease is just as bad as being a mindless sadist… Maybe worse!” Luna panted, her tongue hanging out. “Don’t make me beg. I’m too proud!” 

“I wasn’t trying to be a tease.”Rookwood said, his words against Luna’s neck. “I was trying to be gentle. I would never forgive myself if I hurt you.” 

Luna felt him inching back in, her breath catching in her throat each time he wiggled in and stopped, waiting, feeling ,probing to see if it was safe to keep going. She felt as though her little nubbin was going to explode like popcorn at any moment from all the delicious tension. It took every ounce of willpower she had to not seize control of the situation and take charge, satisfying her own needs. She could have him balls deep inside of her in an instant, scratching her itch and giving her exactly what she wanted… Needed. 

Need was a terrible thing. And Luna needed control. She suffered, writhing, flailing her legs from the loss of it, she had surrendered her control. Rookwood was having his way with her. And she did nothing to control their coupling. 

Want was just as bad as need. There was a difference. Want was base desire, such as lust. Need went somewhere beyond. You needed to breathe. Luna needed control. And  right now, the only control she had was over her own urges, denying them all. Luna felt like she was strangling. 

And still Rookwood pushed deeper. 

He hadn’t even began his frenzied thrusting… He was still entering, slowly, cautiously, his each careful push pressing the tip of his cock against the soft spongy wall of flesh that made up her front wall, just behind her clitoris. 

Luna came explosively, the loss of control over the situation too much. 

Rookwood panicked, pulling out completely, worried, and then realising what had happened. 

He felt nearly full to bursting himself. He slid his way back in, Luna flexing and convulsing around his protruding flesh, her own flesh hot, almost too hot to touch. Rookwood hissed into Luna’s cheek, causing her to shiver. Rookwood had never felt more aroused in his whole life than he felt right now. He could feel Luna oozing all around him, his slow probing causing slick liquid to be displaced with each pumping thrust and flood outward. Luna was trembling violently, whimpering, mewling with need as she panted into the blanket that covered the floor. 

“Do you want me?” Rookwood queried in a grunting whisper, his stomach convulsing and causing him to jerk violently, making his tip continue to tease. 

Luna did not respond. Rookwood didn’t know that Luna could not respond. She was fighting, locked in a struggle, battling against her need to assert her dominance. 

All Luna could do was lay there, clenching, thrashing, and mewling pleadingly. 

Rookwood hilted himself, going in as far as he could go, pulled out, and then gave another firm shove. He shuddered. He was too close to the edge himself. 

Luna went over that edge again, causing Rookwood to pull out, allowing her her spasms, before he bravely ventured forth and tried again, this time finding just the right spot and hilting himself in one confident thrust. 

He fell into a rhythm, his hips thrusting, his natural urges dangerously close to taking over, but held in check. He was exerting just as much control as Luna was, and neither of them knew it. He pulled out, biting his lip, trying not to blow his load. It took him a few moments to regain control, and then he entered again. 

Rookwood began his final run. His balls ached and he needed release. And Luna was growling now, grunting and gnashing her teeth. Rookwood understood the nature of the beast he was rutting… And Luna was a beast. 

The thought made Rookwood detonate violently. He made a frenzied jab that went surprisingly deep from the force that it was driven in, pressing down hard against the front wall of Luna’s hidden places. 

Luna screamed an equine scream, one hoof clawing the floor, the other going into her mouth so she could bite down upon it. She had finally given up her control, trusting, and she had been rewarded. 

Rookwood could not stop blowing load after load, still thrusting, almost mad with the need to rut, to thrust, to penetrate. His nostrils flared. His flesh felt alive and his flesh wanted to live. His flesh continued to need being ground against other flesh. Luna’s flesh. Rookwood faded into her, collapsing against her back, resting his head on her convulsing neck. 

The two faded into one another, breathing heavily, Rookwood’s sweaty body clinging stickily to Luna’s back. 
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 17
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“Any word yet on finding Violet’s parents?” Luna asked. 

“No Mistress.” The guard slumped slightly, looking defeated. “And more bad news. More foals are now missing. Simply gone. No longer in their beds. We cannot find them. It is like there is a veil of shadow that we cannot pierce.” 

Luna staggered backwards, her hind legs threatening to buckle beneath her, suddenly dizzy. She felt a powerful grasp of magic seizing her, covering her every inch, holding her. The pressure felt tight. She was held aloft, her hooves no longer on the marble floor. 

“Sorry.” Rookwood apologised. “I saw you falling. I tried to grab you. I didn’t mean to squeeze if I did, I’m still trying to get the hang of this.” 

Luna nodded, waiting to be set down. After a few more minutes, she crossed her forelegs over her barrel and began to look a little cross. She hung in mid-air, suspended in the bonds of shadow. She turned slowly and glared at Rookwood. He was wearing smoked glass goggles, the thick glass lenses blocking out the light and correcting his vision. A broad black cloak covered his entire body, only his hooves visible. 

Rookwood looked dim, even in the faint light. 

“Are you going to put me down?” Luna said, now annoyed. 

“No.” Rookwood replied. “I need to practice fine control, remember?” 

“So we have foals going missing, I cannot patrol the dreamscape with my usual level of power, and now my guards are having trouble knowing what is going on.” Luna summed up, still suspended. 

“Somewhere, parents are grieving for a missing foal, and she is with us. Keep combing through dreams, see if you can’t find the parents dreaming about their missing foal.” Rookwood mused. 

“There is a problem with that sir…” The guard said, still unsure how to address Rookwood. “Many of the lunar pegasi are finding they can no longer go into dreams. Something is keeping us out. The veil is more than just peering into shadow. Something is actively keeping us out. As though something is seizing control.” 

The temperature of the plunged suddenly, making everyponies’ breath visible. 

“Rookwood… easy.” Luna warned. 

Rookwood turned and regarded Luna, the candlelight reflecting in the smoked glass of his goggles, the flames flickering. The chill slowly began to dissipate as Rookwood tried to calm. 

“Mistress, there is the matter of protocol here. Just how do we address Rookwood?” The guard inquired, somewhat impatiently. “Rookwood insists on being called Rookwood.” 

“That is my name.” Rookwood said in icy tones. 

“It is improper to address you as such.” The guard argued. 

The guard gave a guttural grunt as he was suddenly lifted, his body now suspended in mid air. The guard weighed several hundred pounds and was wearing armor. He drifted in the air like a leaf. 

“Rookwood, I will be most annoyed with you if you drop either of us.” Luna promised. 

Violet poked her head into the library, looking both ways before entering through the door. She was covered in patchy spots of hair, her mane now almost an inch long in places. Her tail was starting to grow back. Her empty socket now held an eye, milky white and dead looking. She only faintly smelled of decay. She squealed when she saw the levitating guard and Luna. 

And then Violet found herself held aloft. She giggled, causing her skin to move in unnatural ways. It was as though she was wearing clothing that was too large and slid around her body. Things wrinkled and bulged in unnatural ways. In life, she had been an exceptionally pretty filly. In death however… 

“Momma, can I have a cookie?” Violet begged. 

Luna regarded the foal for a moment, studying her, looking her over. “Only if you are good and you do not disturb the guard. Rookwood must continue his lessons tonight and we will need you to behave.” 

“Why does daddy have to have lessons?” The foal asked. “Why do grown ups have to learn things? Can I stay and watch if I behave?”

Luna considered the foal’s words. “Yes Violet. You may stay. Rookwood will continue to lift you. And perhaps we shall go into the dreamscape later.”

Violet clapped her hooves together, causing the skin of her fetlock to tear. She began to dribble blood. She looked distressed, a faint wail escaping her throat. Rookwood pulled her close and kissed her, silencing her fit before it had a chance to really get started. “There there.” Rookwood soothed. 

Luna watched the display and felt an ache in her heart. 



 

Luna napped on the couch before the fire. She didn’t make it to breakfast, or even through the night. She would awaken soon enough, to lower to moon and end the night. The firelight was painful to Rookwood, even through his smoked glass goggles. The library tower was large and full of flickering shadows. 

There was also a giggling undead foal eating cookies. Rookwood carefully drug each cookie into shadow and then fed them to her. Dead or not, Violet needed love just like any other foal. Careful affection had a powerful effect on her. Already, the tear in her fetlock was closing. Several off duty guards were reading in the library tower, watching them, glancing at them over the tops of open books. 

Rookwood could feel the subtle threat of the sun soon to rise. He stared at a large hourglass, distracted. He felt two soggy squishy lips press into his face and break his fugue. He looked at Violet, forgetting about the hourglass. 

“Where do I go when the sun rises?” Violet asked. “I know I vanish. I’ve heard you and momma talk about it.” 

“I don’t know Violet.” Rookwood replied. 

“Am I dead?” Violet inquired, looking at Rookwood intently. “I heard the guard talking about it. Since my ears came back I can hear so much better.” 

“It is very difficult to say Violet. You aren’t exactly living.”  Rookwood answered honestly. 

“Neither are you.” Violet said, her tone odd. 

Rookwood felt a chill grating down his spine, causing him to jerk. 

“I’m not dead.” Rookwood said defiantly, trying to control the rush of anger. 

“Then can we go play in the sun together?” Violet said, her good eye fixed upon Rookwood. 

“You know we can’t.” Rookwood said, deflating, his anger dissolving. Being angry at Violet was impossible. 

“You’re dim. Just like me. We’re caught in between.” Violet said cryptically. 

Rookwood’s blood froze. He realised that Violet’s voice had been different now for a few minutes. Something was off. It wasn’t Nightmare Moon’s voice either. 

“Violet?” Rookwood inquired. 

Violet blinked a few times, looking strange. “What?” 

“What do you mean that I am dim?” Rookwood asked. 

“Dim?” Violet replied. 

Rookwood stared at her for several minutes. “Never mind. Want another cookie?” 

Violet nodded. 

“Luna is going to murder me for giving you all of these cookies.” Rookwood said. “But it isn’t like you can be hyper past your bedtime or anything.” 

Rookwood tried to eat a cookie. It tasted like ashes and grit. Pretty much everything tasted like ashes. Except for wine. Thankfully, wine still tasted normal. He tried dragging the cookie into shadow and then taking an experimental nibble. The taste improved slightly, but it still tasted like licking a fireplace. 

He turned his head to look back at Violet, and saw teal eyes staring at him. He froze. 

“The entire plate of cookies…” Luna began. 

“I ate a few.” Rookwood blurted, hoping to stave off Luna’s annoyance. “Besides. Why can’t she have all the cookies she wants? I doubt she can get fat. There is no logical reason why Violet can’t eat cookies till she has no more room. She’s had a rough go at life.” 

“Because, you dunderhead, we have to get her to behave.” Luna said, blinking away the sleep from her eyes. “She behaves because she wants a cookie.” 

“Violet, why do you behave?” Rookwood asked. 

“‘Cause I’m a good filly.” Violet replied, causing Rookwood to smile smugly. 

Luna rolled her eyes. A lunar pegasi reading a book sniggered. 

“She deserves cookies… After what she’s been through.” Rookwood said, scraping his tongue over his teeth, trying to get he ash flavour off of it. 

Luna sighed, realising she was defeated. 

Violet wobbled over to the couch and kissed Luna on the nose. “I’ll be good. I promise. I don’t need cookies for that.” 

Luna smiled at the foal. It was getting time to lower the moon. Almost time for breakfast. And then time to go to bed. She yawned, feeling tired. She was exhausted. She felt overworked. 

It was probably mommy hormones. 



 

The sun, the terrible sun, would be setting soon. It was like an itch now. It was a dreadful feeling of anticipation that nearly drove Rookwood nuts, those last hours of the day, when he awoke, agitated, irritated, unable to sleep because his body was ready for the cursed daylight to end. 

His mind held a collection of plans for this evening. Lessons. A flight. A flight would be excellent, to clear his head and get out of this stuffy place. A few lessons. A visit with Celestia. Perhaps a talk with Cadance through the crystal mirror. A bath was going to be vital. His body ached and he worried if he was going to be able to get out of the bed on his own. But once he had a bath, his body should perk back up. He was always so fatigued upon waking. Some private time with Luna might be in order. 

And there were other plans. Plans that drifted in the back of his mind, other things he’d like to do, like attempting to shadow wink to Nightmare Moon’s location. Eventually, he would. 

Eventually, he would attempt to enter Violet’s mind and search for clues. 

Rookwood was becoming comfortably complacent with his gifts now. His body, though frailer, was being sustained. When he was in shadow form, he would bleed magic from things… wards, items, magical lights that were currently not working, whatever was convenient. It recharged his shadow form and left him able to function after returning to his physical body. He had a nagging theory that he didn’t need food any more. At least, in theory. The process was changing him though. For the better or worse? He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure that it mattered. All that did matter, at least in his mind, was that he grow stronger, strong enough to put an end to this ever present threat. After that, he supposed, it didn’t matter. If he lived, so much the better, he would deal with the consequences of his actions then. If not, it didn’t matter. 

Strength was the only thing that mattered. 

Which was something he didn’t currently have at the moment. He struggled to even lift his hoof. He just needed a bath. Some time to soak and get the soreness from his bones. And then everything would be fine. 

“Rookwood?” 

“Yes?”

“You do not seem well.” Luna said, her voice full of concern. 

“Same thing every day when I wake up. I just feel drained. I’ll perk up.” Rookwood said as he yawned, his muscles tensing as he stretched. 

“I bet I could wake you up.” Luna teased. “At least parts of you. The parts I am interested in anyway.” She planted a kiss on Rookwood’s lips, a teasing peck. 

“Aw… See, that right there is why I have issues. Usually, for a stallion, a mare references his dangly bits. You go right for my tongue.” Rookwood complained. 

“Rookwood, your tongue is a national treasure. I would go to war over your tongue. Don’t feel diminished, feel proud! There are lots of dangly bits out there of all shapes and sizes, but a good tongue is a mare’s best friend.” Luna replied. “And the things you can do with your tongue...” 

Rookwood smiled in the dark, Luna unable to see him. 

“I never go down on you.” Luna whispered. “I feel guilty sometimes.” 

“I understand why,” replied Rookwood, “I’ve seen why. What was done to shame you and humiliate you. I don’t expect you to do that for me. Just be happy and let things continue as they are.” 

“See,” said Luna, “you really do know how to use your tongue to make me feel good.” 

“How about later tonight I use you as a salt lick?” Rookwood teased.

He heard Luna hiss, drawing her in breath sharply, inhaling deeply. 

“Ponies need salt to survive…” Rookwood breathed in the dark. “I must lick you because my life depends on it.” 

Luna squirmed in the bed, her pelt causing the sheets to make crinkly noises. 
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 18
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Complacency is perhaps the most dangerous force in the universe. It causes wars. Misunderstandings. Careless mistakes. Easily avoided pitfalls. All manner of hubris can be avoided if you can prevent being complacent. it is the downfall of kings, the toppler of queens, it has ended empires, ruined entire generations, and has destroyed civilisation several times over. 

Rookwood was young and did not have such worldly experience. He fell into complacence as one might fall into a comfortable couch and settle in to read a book or laze about on a rainy afternoon. He wore it like a warm cloak on a cold day. And every day was cold now for Rookwood. 

It really was that simple. A single simple moment of complacence, brought about by boredom, that made everything go wrong. Mr. Bun decided to leave the sanctuary of his rabbit hole and see what might be seen in his outside world… 

Luna lay napping. It was a little after midnight. She was showing now, a faint curve beginning to form along her belly, either from pregnancy or her daily bottle of maple syrup. She had also been on an eggnog kick since the holidays, demanding it for breakfast every day. 

Violet lay upon a chair, wrapped in a blanket, also snoozing. 

Rookwood was levitating at least a hundred books, all bound in the bonds of shadow. Each looked dim. He had pulled each one into shadow slightly, allowing him to apply his grip. He held a cup of wine to his lips, also held in shadow, carefully tipping it back to drink, the library all around him looking dark. Even the crackling fire now looked dim. 

Rookwood knew that he could pull the flames into shadow and extinguish them. He had been practicing on candles. He could plunge a room into darkness in seconds. 

And so, in perhaps the most foolish moment of Rookwood’s life, he decided to go looking for Nightmare Moon and try to force her hoof. 

He concentrated, focusing his will, plunging the room into shadow. The flames died. The globes of electric light far above went dark. A velvet shroud fell upon the room. A funerary shroud. 

He focused on the strongest memory he had. Violet’s torture, rape, and murder. Rage boiled. His hatred gave him power. He felt himself beginning to drift, disconnected, dropping into the darkness, trying to sense Nightmare Moon and her hiding place. 

Behind his horn, he felt it, a faint tug. 

“I have you bitch!” Rookwood hissed, vanishing into the darkness. 



 

Rookwood awoke in another library. The alicorn library. He had been here before. There was nothing in the room. And everything seemed odd. Distorted. Bent out of a believable shape. The reality of this place seemed off. 

He trotted through the library, looking around, his own complacency blinding him to the obvious. He went through the rear door, into the long hall full of portraits, and began to walk down the long corridor, trying to find the door that led to Luna’s room, never once making the connection as to why he was here. 

He found the door he was looking for, with three doors in a small chamber at the end of the hall. A cold sensation began to prickle through his body as he came to his first realisation, the dreadful realization of suddenly understanding where he was. The second realisation was that he knew that the door would be locked. 

The third and final realisation was that he was going to have to unlock the door. 

He heard sobbing from the other side, pitiful mewling. 

“You are the only one who can.” 

Rookwood whirled, no longer alone. Violet stood close by. She seemed oddly different. 

“What are you?” Rookwood hissed, not sure if he wanted the answer. 

“I am a psychopomp.” Violet replied, her voice not her own. “The events you have set in motion cannot be stopped now. You must continue. Nightmare Moon created my body, but something else has repurposed me. She must be stopped.”

“Who? Who repurposed you…” Rookwood said. 

“I am not allowed to say, but you will be meeting them soon.” Violet answered. 

Rookwood felt a cold shiver. He turned, pressing his horn against the door. He knew Luna. He knew her secret places. He had touched her mind, seen her shame, seen her discomfort, he knew her fear. The door unlocked silently, as he knew it would. Luna trusted him. 

He pushed the door open, terrified at what he might see… 



 

“You!” A voice hissed. “Damn you, how did you get in here!” 

Rookwood stood in the doorway, looking in to Luna’s private room. She was in a small iron cage, covered in padlocks, some old and rusty, many of them looked new and fresh. Nightmare Moon had just snapped on a new one as Rookwood had entered, adding another chain around the cage. 

Luna was little, helpless, looking emaciated and worn through in the cage, a shadow of her former self. The room was dark. DARK. Rookwood knew that Luna could not see, not in this darkness, the one thing she feared above all else. 

“Bitch.” Rookwood uttered. 

“Wookwood?” 

Rookwood froze, an icy chill scraping along his spine. Violet was in the room with him, standing beside him, Nightmare Moon staring at the both of them, she seemed quite terrified to see Violet. 

“Wookwood, hwelp me!” 

“So it begins.” Violet announced in a steady monotone. 

Rookwood lunged forward, a cloak of shadow surrounding him, once again becoming Death’s visage. He moved with supernatural speed, catching Nightmare Moon completely off guard. He collided with her, slamming into her body, bowling her over and bearing her down to the floor, toys scattering. 

Every horrible thing Rookwood had collected within his soul came forth, tendrils of black shadow reaching out into the blackness, a manifestation of every pain he had ever experienced. The tendrils speared forth, crawling along Nightmare Moons body, digging into every orifice, plunging into her ears, sliding between her eyes and eyelids, up her nostrils, into her mouth, they wormed into her pucker, into her vaginal opening, and finally, into the nightmarish phallus she had grown from absorbing some of Rookwood’s essence. The black tendrils crawled into every orifice they could find, burrowing their way in deep, seeking Nightmare Moon’s secret places. 

Rookwood became the living embodiment of the black touch… 

Nightmare Moon’s screams were beyond description, ragged, anguished, delighting Rookwood to no end. His hated enemy writhed before him, completely powerless and thoroughly violated. Rookwood dug in deeper, He focused all of the pain from Luna’s memories now merged with his own. 

Rookwood became vaguely aware that he was laughing. A maniacal cackle flew from his lips, turning into a guffaw, his body racked with laugher as Nightmare Moon’s body was wracked with pain. 

And then she was gone. Vanished. She had simply exited, leaving without a trace. 

A faint light returned to the room, causing Luna to squeal , her cage rattling as she pushed upon the bars. She kicked frantically, her cries becoming more and more desperate. 

Rookwood’s laughter faded in his throat, his cloak of shadow dropped away. He turned and looked at her, fresh pain in his soul, knowing, understanding, what he must do. He flexed his will, causing the locks and chains to fall away, landing in the floor with a clatter. As he did so, he shrank down, becoming smaller, less threatening, large oversized glasses appearing on his nose. 

“Woona.” Wookwood said, opening the door for her. 

“Wookwood!” Woona cried. 

Wookwood pulled her close, a sob escaping his lips, dreading what he must do, but knowing it must be done. He puckered his lips. 

“Once you do this you will never know peace again.” Violet warned. “Endless ages of torment await you. You still have a choice. The events of tonight will still play out, but you need not condemn yourself to darkness so completely.” 

Wookwood remembered Woona’s words, knowing a kiss would make things better. He couldn’t scrub Luna’s mind, he did not have that power, he could not erase the things she had been witness to. But there was one thing he could do for her… 

He pressed his lips to her head as she squirmed, trying to pull away from him. The effect was immediate and instant. Every torment she had endured now flooded into his body, bleeding away from hers. He drank in all of her anguish, drawing her pain out like poison, flooding and polluting his own body with her centuries of tortures, from the very beginning when the nightmare had started, through the endless middle, the long thousand years locked away in the moon, struggling to keep the final shreds of her self, and finally, the fresh and recent wounds, the horrible sense of betrayal she felt for draining away Rookwood’s life essence as he slept in the bed beside her, forced to watch, unable to do anything, bleeding him dry. Nightmare Moon had been clever, working during the day when Rookwood was weakest, an enemy within his own bed. And Luna felt no end of guilt for being unable to stop her. 

Woona gave a sob, first of anguish, knowing what was about to happen, and then of relief, knowing the nightmare would soon be over. 

Wookwood held her for a long time after the kiss, keeping her close, struggling to keep his own sanity, Woona being the only anchor left. A faint giggle escaped his lips. He had just seen his first glimpse of forever, and it was long. 

And then Woona was no longer Woona, but Luna, looking down at him, her face sad. “You lovesick fool… What have you done?” 

Wookwood shifted, rippled, becoming Rookwood. “I did what had to be done. I love you.” 

Luna shook her head sadly. “Any moment now, she is going to take over my physical body. Be prepared… I will probably try to kill you once we wake up.” 

“And so begins the struggle.” Violet announced, looking at Luna, her expression gentle. “One has been released from the bonds placed upon them, the mantle now torn free. Your life is your own.” 

Luna looked confused but Rookwood did not have time to explain as the dreamscape shattered like glass all around them. 



 

Rookwood awoke, seconds before slamming into a wooden table, caught in a swirling magical vortex. As he flew through the air, he sensed dawn approaching… But it wasn’t at the right time. Dawn was coming early. He felt an odd heat in the room. 

He collided with the table, his hip and hind leg catching the edge, sending him tumbling end over end. He landed in a heap, pain flooding through his body. 

“SISTER!” Celestia screamed. “FIGHT HER!” 

Rookwood looked down and saw bones protruding from his leg. He gulped, feeling a cold sweat gripping his body. He looked up and saw Violet, who was looking at him intently, nodding faintly. He moved, causing the broken bones to grate together in his leg. 

Above him, in the air, Celestia battled with Nightmare Moon, locked into combat in the tight confines of the Library tower. Celestia was losing. One wing was smouldering. She wasn’t putting much into the fight, not wanting to hurt Luna again. 

Violet looked at him curiously. “You must leave your rabbit hole.” 

Rookwood nodded, knowing what must be done, trying to find the courage to do it. He hissed as he moved and the bones in his broken leg wiggled together obscenely. He fell into shadow, diving deep, drawing together as much of his strength as he could. 

“Go forth Rookwood. Do what must be done.” Violet said, her eyes blinking, her face solemn. 

Rookwood soared upwards, a black cloud. 

Luna was half Luna and half Nightmare Moon now, the blackness crawling along her flesh, trying to consume her. Luna struggled, her wings flapping, her head thrashing, trying to reclaim her body. Nightmare Moon no longer had the many long centuries of pain to hold Luna down. Luna was winning, but Rookwood knew that she could not win this alone. 

The first faint hint of light shone on the horizon, and then went dark, something trying to keep the sun from rising. 

Rookwood plunged into Luna’s ear, going once again into Luna’s mind, fading away from the real world, Luna’s pain once again becoming his own, he could feel her struggle as he entered her body. 



 

Rookwood popped into inky darkness. Above him was the moon, below him was a swirling vortex. Nightmare Moon was in the center of the vortex, skeletal, half covered in meat and some flesh, the other half nothing but bones. Luna was caught in the vortex, writhing around, trying to keep her head above the black swirling surface, and Rookwood knew that if she went under, it would be over. Tendrils of shadow gripped her body, trying to pull her down. 

Rookwood plunged, diving down on black bat like wings, diving into the vortex, clutching Luna as he crashed into the swirling mass. 

“I have you!” Rookwood shouted, holding Luna’s body. She was weak, fatigued, but still fighting. Rookwood pulled, trying to lift her out of the swirling mass, but he found himself stuck. 

Rookwood flexed his will, reaching out, his mind touching others, reaching not only into the dreamscape, but into the waking world as well, touching on the dark shadows of all those who had been harmed by Nightmare Moon. 

He heaved a sigh of relief as he tugged, pulled, yanked on those minds, drawing them to him. 

Above him, a very surprised looking Celestia appeared, her mane and tail now a solar flare, her eyes white hot coals. Next to her, Cadance popped into existence, looking around, trying to take in what she was seeing. And finally, Twilight Sparkle was pulled bodily into the dreamscape, as Rookwood knew he needed a heavy hitter. 

The alicorns wasted no time, circling ahead like birds of prey, horns flaring, magics at the ready. 

Celestia was the first to strike at Nightmare Moon in the center of the vortex, causing Nightmare Moon to laugh as Celestia’s fire did little to harm her. Cadance struck next, a bright pink light filled with warm striking Luna and Rookwood, restoring their strength. Twilight tried to pull them free, gently pulling and tugging on them, trying to extricate them from the swirling blackness. 

Violet appeared, her small wings fluttering, hovering near Rookwood and Luna, her face now sad. She looked at Rookwood, her eyes blinking back tears, her one good eye peering at him with a warm sense of love for all of the kindness he had shown her. 

“Rookwood, you know what must be done. You had the strength to hold on to her and love, do you have the strength to let go?” Violet asked. 

Rookwood nodded, causing Luna to sob. He said nothing, squeezing her tightly as the tendrils began to drag them under. And then, Rookwood let go. He spread his forelegs wide, leaning back, and the tendrils wasted no time pulling him away from Luna. Luna screamed, and kept screaming, no words, just anguished screams, pleading cries, and she began to kick and struggle as Twilight was at last able to pull her from the writhing swirling mass. 

Rookwood was gone, below the surface of the shadowy maelstrom. 

Luna’s screams filled this universe, causing the moon to shatter like glass, the shards falling down, glittering like a rain of diamonds. They fell into the maelstrom, glittering points of light in the darkness. 

Rookwood resurfaced, now in the embrace of Nightmare Moon, who was rising from the center of the vortex, flesh rapidly covering her bones, recreating her body. 

Rookwood was laughing. He laughed the insane laugh of a pony broken, his peals of laughter so horrid that even Discord would cringe, unable to listen to the madness inducing laugh. 

Nightmare Moon drew him in to her embrace, drawing him into her body, as the alicorns above struggled to hold on to Luna, Luna’s cries filling the void, pleading for Rookwood with out words being spoken. 

“I have you bitch!” Rookwood hissed. 





Rookwood popped himself into waking world, Nightmare Moon thrashing around inside of him, four alicorns popping into the top of the library tower with him. He struggled against Nightmare Moon’s nature. Her black form creeped and crawled along his flesh, trying to take him over, trying to break him, to make him submit to her will. 

Rookwood looked upon Luna, his eyes wide and pleading. “I love you.” Rookwood’s last words were simple, direct, and to the point. He struggled forward on three legs, the pain in his broken leg causing him to nearly faint, and pressed his lips to Luna’s, remembering to turn his head, just as she had advised after their first awkward kiss. 

Rookwood flung himself at he window, galloping forward on three legs, nearly falling, Nightmare Moon’s voice screaming out of his mouth, pleading with him to stop. He hit the glass at a full run. It shattered as the sun rose above the horizon, flooding the world with golden light. 

As Rookwood burst through the window, a jagged shard of glass caught his throat, tearing it open, causing a fountain of crimson blood to gush forth, leaving a jagged gash over his windpipe. Nightmare Moon’s screams were silenced, turned into gurgles. 

Rookwood cleared the window and began his final descent, the golden rays of the sun washing over him, causing him to burst into flames as he hurtled towards the earth. 

The library tower was one of the tallest in the whole castle. 

Luna fell, sobbing, still unable to speak, now unable to move, her sister standing near, silent, in shock, unmoving. Cadance and Twilight began to sob, dreading what they had witnessed, but unable to turn away. 

Violet walked towards the jagged remains of the window, tears coming from her eyes. She stopped at the edge, looking down, her wings fluttering faintly. 

“So it ends.” She announced, her voice quavering with raw emotion. And then, she was gone, the sun banishing her from the waking world. 
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 19
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Luna sighed. 

It was a sad sound, a sound that her sister, resting beside her, repeated. 

The events of the past month or so had been chaotic and trying. Luna was still trying to put together the pieces, her heart broken. Rookwood had taken centuries of torment from her, but had left her with heartbreak. She sighed again, feeling tears, and leaned against her sister, who leaned back. 

Violet had shown up the night after, confused, upset, and not remembering anything. There had been no answers from her, no explanation, nothing. Violet was sad, and her condition had reflected that, becoming somewhat more rotten, her skin tearing and sagging. Luna had done her best to comfort the undead foal, but Luna was in no real position to comfort anything. Violet would be here soon, it was late afternoon, the sun would set eventually. 

There had been little left of Rookwood’s body, some burned remains, a few bones, and ashes that blew about in the wind. Luna had stood watch over his remains for hours, refusing to move, daring somepony to take her away. Very little had been left. 

Word had spread quickly about what he had done, the young unicorn who was to be the Night Princess’ consort, the sacrifice made on her behalf. The entire city of Canterlot had grieved, and still grieved. Black wreaths hung on doors, black ribbons were tied everywhere. 

Much of the city had flooded the palace grounds when Rookwood’s scant remains were committed to the earth, his funeral held at night so that Violet might attend, the little purple pegasus foal sobbing pitifully and literally falling apart from grief, feathers falling out, her skin tearing, blood oozing and trickling  from her body, the smell of decay becoming overpowering. 

“I can still feel him sister.” Luna said, her voice raspy. 

“Every widow says that Luna.” Celestia replied, her own voice hoarse and crackling. 

“I can hear his voice sometimes. Sometimes he seems so near.” Luna whispered, shuddering, pressing even more against her sister. 

The two sisters fell back into silence. 

Of all the things that had happened, of all the things that had transpired, the very worst was the fact that about a week after Rookwood’s fatal plunge, the nightmares began again, not as bad as before, but they had returned, and they were gaining strength. 

Luna felt only bitterness knowing that Rookwood’s death had done nothing to stop Nightmare Moon. Luna’s own powers had weakened considerably. She still had influence over dreams, but realised now that her powers over nightmares had come from the vestiges of Nightmare Moon left inside of her. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and Luna felt weak and powerless now. Dreams and nightmares were not one in the same as Luna had learned. They were day and night, the sun and the moon, one full of light, the other darkness, and Luna had been pulled from the darkness and thrust into the light, Rookwood’s final parting gift. 

“Sister, I do not think I can bear this.” Luna whimpered. 

Luna felt a wing placed over her body, Celestia pulling her close. The warmth of Celestia’s body was comforting, the sounds of her breathing reassuring. The larger white alicorn’s body shook slightly, her muscles quivering as she shivered, raw emotion convulsing through her flesh. 

“I felt this way when you were torn away from me.” Celestia said, nearly sobbing. “Only I had no one to comfort me. At least we have one another now, and you are truly free.” 

Luna nodded, unable to reply.

The sun settled lower, the shadows growing long, and the haze of twilight distorted all the light and shadows. The drapes on Luna’s window were open now, for the first time in a long time, letting in the golden rays of the sun. It flooded the room, shining on everything, free to return to the room that had become as dark as the grave. The grave had been a prison, its occupant now free. 

“Will you stay with me tonight sister?” Luna asked. 

“As many nights as it takes sister.” Celestia replied, pressing the side of her face against Luna’s. “I will see you through this. I wish I knew how to make the hurt go away.” 

“How… how long do you think he suffered… burning as he fell? Do you think he felt hitting the ground?” Luna asked, her body contorting from pain. 

“I hope not,” replied Celestia, “he suffered so much already. Hopefully he bled out quickly from his throat being…” Celestia’s words faded into soft cries, and she lifted a kerchief to wipe her face. 

The last of the sun began to bleed away from the room and the magical lights turned on, filling the room with a soft rosy light. Celestia and Luna both tensed slightly, waiting, knowing that soon, Violet would come and she would need comforting. 

They did not have to wait long. Violet popped into existence, looking very confused for a moment, her eyes wide and scared, one eye still horrid and milky, still dead. She ran towards the bed, her whimpers starting almost immediately. 

Luna lifted her into the bed, and Violet pressed against her, seeking warmth. Celestia wished she could comfort the foal, but Celestia’s touches found no purchase. 

“How are you Violet?” Luna inquired, grateful  for a distraction, 

“I miss him.” Violet said sadly. 

“We all do.” Luna said, her voice cracking on the last word. “I can still feel him sometimes. And hear him.” 

“I do too.” Violet said. “I can hear him in the dark.” 

Celestia cringed, her expression pained. 

“Maybe if we turned the lights off, later tonight we could hear him together.” Violet suggested. 

Violet’s words pushed Luna over the edge, causing her to cry bitterly, burying her face into a pillow and screaming. 

“Violet, be careful what you say.” Celestia said, her tone soft and worried. 

“I’m sorry.” Violet replied. “I didn’t mean it.” Violet pressed her face into Luna’s side, her own body hitching somewhat, her little wings fluttering a few feathers falling lose, blood dribbling from the pinholes where her feathers had been. 



 

The dawn had brought warmth but no cheer. Violet had vanished, the night had been long, and there had been little rest for either sister. They sat at their breakfast table, pondering the empty spot at the table, Luna staring dully down at her plate. 

“You must eat sister.” Celestia said in encouraging tones. 

Luna grunted and began to mechanically eat, chewing slowly and methodically, her eyes glazed over and dull. Her teal eyes were bloodshot. She stared ahead, oftentimes not blinking for an exceptionally long time. 

“There is still the foal. At least that was preserved.” Celestia commented, her own words felt like glass tearing at her throat. She knew just how trite they sounded, and had said them anyway. 

“It is a most difficult thing being a suicidal immortal.” Luna muttered, her mouth full. 

Celestia recoiled, her breath in her nose. 

“Rookwood was a stupid lovesick idiot.” Luna said angrily. Her expression softened, and then flooded with regret. “Stupid stupid idiot. Why did he let go? Why did allow this to happen? We could have fought her together. This all seems so pointless and foolish. He’s gone, and she’s still around somewhere, licking her wounds,” Luna sagged. “I didn’t even know she was inside of my head still. I thought she was hiding within the dreamscape. Or maybe she re-entered my head at some point. I just don’t know.” 

Celestia watched as Luna became animated slightly, drinking her morning eggnog. She guzzled it, pausing for a moment, sitting there with her muzzle covered in nog. And then she finished off the enormous tankard and slammed it down upon the table. 

“Why did he have to be so damn noble?” Luna demanded. 

“Sister, he loved you. Do not be angry.” Celestia responded. 

“I have a right to be angry. He carelessly threw his life away. I could have dealt with this, given time. I have all the time in the world. He had so little time, and he took this upon his shoulders and then threw what little time he had away, damn him.” Luna snarled. 

“You really loved him.” Celestia stated. 

“You are damn right I did. And now I find myself hating him. HATING!” Luna said angrily. 

Celestia flinched, nearly dropping her fork and her tea. 

“Love is stupid and pointless.” Luna growled. 



 

Luna feared she was going mad. She was laying in her tub, soaking, her breath heaving, fear coursing through her body. She could have sworn she had heard Rookwood’s voice near her ear. These moments kept happening. Celestia kept assuring her that it was normal, everypony that grieved heard the voices of their loved ones or felt them in the dark of night. 

But Luna felt haunted. The candles in the bathroom had blinked out, a few at a time, filling the room with darkness, and then she had heard it. Her name. A long hissing whisper. She had flooded the room with light, her horn blazing, terrified and scared out of her wits. There was nothing there of course. 

Alone, in her bed, in the dark, by herself, Luna could feel Rookwood. There were moments when she awoke and she could swear that she had felt his lips brush up against her cheek. Or heard her name. Grief was doing terrible things to her mind. 

Luna had nearly pissed her own bathwater. 

Violet poked her head into the bathroom, looking around, eyeing Luna. 

“I heard him again.” Luna confessed. 

“Do you want to hear him again?” Violet inquired. 

“Yes.” Luna said, worrying that she was slipping into madness. 

“Sit with me in the dark and we might hear him again. Last night I heard him singing to me in my bed as I tried to sleep.” Violet replied. 

Luna whimpered, realising she was indulging in a mad fantasy, and realising she didn’t care. She needed to hear his voice, wanted to hear his voice so badly. and if she had to slip into madness to hear him once again, so be it. 

“The dark still scares me.” Luna confessed. “All that time with Rookwood as he faded, being with him in the dark, even that did not cure me of my fear. I fear it now more than ever.” 

“Darkness is the only place to find Rookwood.” Violet whispered as she sat down on her haunches near the tub, eyeing the water fearfully. 

“He deserves better.” Luna said, nearly choking. 

“It was his choice.” Violet said in an odd voice. “He earned the right to make the choice that he did. He drank deep of the darkness, stood at the door, and knocked. And the darkness welcomed him in as one of its own.” 

“What?” Luna replied, feeling panic and fear burn her lungs. 

Violet blinked. “Huh?” 

Luna rose out of her bathwater, sitting up, staring at the purple foal, contemplating the foal’s nature, wondering what secrets she hid. Violet knew things. Luna remembered all too well seeing Violet that night, in her mind, in the dreamscape, and then, finally, at the window, announcing Rookwood’s death, announcing when it began, the choices made, and then the final terrible end. She found herself wanting to shake the foal violently, demanding answers, but that would do no good. Violet had suffered enough. Luna felt ashamed even thinking about it. 

“Violet, you’re looking a little rough. How about tonight, we sit in the library and I read you a story?” Luna inquired. 

“Mr. Bun?” Violet replied. 

Luna’s breath came out sharply, a feeling of dizziness overtaking her for a moment. “If it makes you happy we can read about Mr. Bun.” Luna answered. 

“The one where Mrs. Bun has cute little bunny babies?” Violet said, bouncing in place. 

“Violet, be careful. You’ll split open and tear. I don’t seem to have you holding together like Rookwood did.” Luna warned. 

“Love sustains this body.” Violet said cryptically, her voice changing slightly. 

Luna regarded the foal once again, her teal eyes locking on to the foal’s single purple eye. She sat there for a few moments, thoughtful, reflective, curious about the foal’s words. And then she rose up out of her bathwater and began her night. 





The library had been repaired. The window had been fixed. The books had been all put back into place. It was chilly in the library, no fire burned in the grate tonight. The room was dim. Luna sat, reclining on her side, sprawled on a sofa, reading a book to Violet. At least, that was what her physical body was doing. The rest of her prowled the dreamscape, bringing moral guidance and pleasant dreams to those in slumber. A part of her was beginning to realise that her connections to dreams and dreamers were actually stronger now, free from the nightmare taint. It was difficult to bring pleasant dreams to a foal when part of you brought darkness wherever you went. 

Luna heard the flutter of the guard’s wings and their guttural grunts as they moved about the library, watching over her, worried and waiting for Nightmare Moon’s return. Some were in armor, others off duty and in the library, huddled close to small lamps and candles, having an enjoyable read, or at least pretending to, worried for their Mistress and desiring to stay close. 

Luna felt a cold creeping chill settle into her bones as she watched the page of the book turn itself, and felt a faint trailing touch along her side, ending at her cutie mark, something touching the darkness around the moon. Luna turned and looked, her eyes wide and staring, her guard becoming aware of something in the darkness. 

Luna looked all around, her eyes darting, wide open, her ears perked, her horn glowing. 

Luna looked one last time at the spot where she felt a touch. His touch. Only Rookwood would be such a tease. Her eyes settled on her mark, her breathing becoming rapid as she did so. 

It had changed. 

The blackness around the moon had softened, becoming a gentle purple blue, and it was filled now with even more stars, sources of light in the ever present darkness. The moon on her backside seemed to glow with a faint light. Luna blinked, fearing she was going mad. Cutie marks didn’t glow, and yet there definitely seemed to be a faint silver light shining from the moon. It not only illuminated the night in her mark, but seemed to be spilling out into the world as well. 

“Violet…” Luna murmured. 

“I see it.” Violet whispered. 

Luna realised she could see her own breath. The room was freezing. 

“Rookwood?” Luna begged, her voice pleading. 

The darkness held no reply. 
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 20
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Luna struggled to know her own mind. She seemed caught in a confused fugue, not really knowing where she left off and Nightmare Moon began. From the beginning, Nightmare Moon had been in control of everything, and Luna wondered how much she really knew about everything that had really happened. Parts of her knew. She understood that now, freed from the cage within her mind. Nightmare Moon had been there since the very first encounter, the wet dream where Rookwood had been discovered. Luna realised her own nature had struggled against Nightmare Moon’s nature, with Rookwood caught in the middle, both of them fighting over a prize, each for very different reasons. 

Luna thought back to the moment where she had surrendered control, with Rookwood taking her from behind. The act of trust and the loss of control had allowed Rookwood inside, in more ways than one. Nightmare Moon hadn’t been able to seize control of that situation. Part of Luna’s nature had manifested strong enough to allow it to happen. Luna letting go had been a vital aspect of Nightmare Moon’s removal. Luna shuddered, remembering Rookwood letting go, and then sinking into the blackness. He had done so willingly. 

“Luna…” 

Luna started, her heart racing, her horn flaring to life, flooding the room with light. Her eyes were wide, her ears folded back against her skull, her barrel heaving, expanding and contracting rapidly. There was nothing there. Her ears strained. She could hear Violet’s wet raspy laboured breathing as she slept, now in her own room, an addition added on to Luna’s own, knocking the wall down and expanding into other rooms. Violet’s room was comfortable and warm, and she had toys. She had everything a foal could want, and most of it had gone ignored. What Violet needed was love… And she had plenty of that, at least as much as Luna could give. Violet ignored most of her toys, but had latched on to a small brown stuffed rabbit which was her constant companion. Violet fretted whenever the rabbit had to go into the wash and had to be cleaned up, when it became crusted with blood and lost hairs, Violet’s constant slow state of decay taking its toll. 

Luna unclenched her nethers and dimmed her horn, still panting, nearly pissing herself from fear. She rose from her bed, exhausted, and went into the bathroom. Her belly ached and cramped. She had grown larger. 

Luna relieved herself, her belly cramps relaxing slightly, her breathing slowed somewhat. Her pucker was still tightly puckered however. She stood in the dim bathroom, the moons on her cutie marks glowing faintly, lighting the way. Celestia had been most disturbed by this development, as was Twilight Sparkle, as it meant that Luna’s destiny had been changed. Altered. And then there was the odd glow, a perpetual night light that did not seem to be extinguishable. Even when in shadow, Luna projected an odd silver light, illuminating the darkness with a moonlit glow. Something had changed her that night in the library. 

It was almost comical. The moon now literally shone out of Luna’s ass. 



 

Luna and Violet huddled together in the dim room, Luna’s teeth clattering together in fear. They had been sitting in the dark together now, holding on to one another, Luna fighting back her fear. She felt nauseous and hot, her tongue tasted of copper and an odd metallic twang. The inside of her cheeks clung to her chattering teeth, and it was a constant struggle not to bite the inside of her own mouth. 

There could be no doubt, there was a voice in the dark. 

His voice.

Violet waited patiently, her breathing wet and bubbly, her excitement causing her to squirm. The little purple pegasus foal seemed exceptionally animated tonight. Luna brought herself under enough control to plant a careful kiss upon the foal’s head, on the soft spot between her ears. It was a place where Violet still had a great deal of sensation. It made her squirm ecstatically. 

“Rookwood? I know you are there. I’ve heard you. Please talk to me.” Luna said. Luna swallowed, gulped, her mind reaching a conclusion as to what she must do. 

Luna plunged the room into darkness, the only visible light coming from the moons on her hips. She sat in a faint silver sphere of light. The darkness seemed alive. Oppressive. It pressed in from all sides, she could feel it thrashing against the sphere of light her cutie marks created. 

The darkness was alive. 

Luna waited, her ears straining. 

“Rookwood, we’re lonely. I know you’re there.” Violet pleaded. “You promised me the other night that you’d try to sing to me again.” 

Luna’s blood froze and she struggled to breathe. Something brushed up against her belly, trailing along the soft flesh between her belly and the soft webbing of the inside of her thigh, the place where Rookwood loved to tease most. It trailed down slowly, something brushing over her skin, brushing over her curves, down into her intimate places, lastly trailing over a nipple. 

Luna let out a soft cry. 

“Tartarus is a terrible place, even if you are there on business.” 

Luna began to worry that she was squeezing Violet to hard. Her body jerked. It was getting difficult to control. Her muscles burned with a freezing cold and she swallowed repeatedly, fighting back a scream, struggling to face her fear, as she had told so many others to do. 

“Luna, I’m so sorry, it has been so difficult to pull everything back together. I’m trying.” 

“Rookwood!” Luna cried. “You’re dead! Go rest! You’ve earned it!” 

“No Luna. I cannot do that. I made a promise and then I made a choice. I chose to make a deal. I have a task that I must do, and I am the only one that can do it. I am still struggling to figure out how to come together however.” 

“But you are dead!” Luna whimpered. “Dead dead dead. I watched you die.” 

“I know. I’m sorry for that. If it is any consolation, I never felt it.” 

Luna began to weep, clinging to Violet, fearing for her own sanity, knowing that she was having a conversation with a dead pony in the dark. 

“Just before hitting the window, I dove into shadow, and finally managed to do something I’d been trying to do for a long time Luna. I left my body behind when I went under.” 

“You what?” Luna gasped, tears now flowing freely. 

“The body only got in the way. It was holding me back. I left it behind. Violet collected me and we went home together.” 

Luna screamed, suddenly wanting to hurl Violet away from her, struggling to hold back upon her dreadful urge. 

“I am having some trouble making my self real again. My master is becoming frustrated. He expects more of me.” 

“I loved your body.” Luna cried bitterly. 

“It was just a body.  In time, I will make myself a new one. And we can be together. If you still love me. If you will have me. This is exhausting.” 

“You said you have a task, that you have a master… You made a deal?” Luna worked to bring herself under her usual level of control, her mind whirling. 

“I did. I do. I have been tasked with dealing with Nightmare Moon. The nightmares must continue, but she is not to be their master. She has become sick, twisted, and is no longer fit for service. I am to destroy her and seize her mantle. My master has faith in me and has promised me a great reward. I found myself in a position where I could not say no.” 

“W-w-what?” Luna stammered. 

“Suicides suffer a dreadful fate Luna. It is perhaps the worst sin. My master had my essence seized and I was tested. My soul was tested in ways that I cannot describe to you. The testing… was unpleasant. My master asked me how much more suffering I was willing to endure and  then offered me something in exchange for the continuation of my suffering.” 

“Rookwood no…” Luna begged, unable to hear anymore. 

“He offered me all of the time I could ever want with you in exchange for one task and an oath of service. His terms were simple and I accepted.” 

“No…” Luna cried, clinging to Violet, who had been silent this whole time. 

“Once I figure out how to make my self real again, we’ll have all of the time we could ever want.” 

Luna nearly fainted. 

“All I have to do is take Nightmare Moon’s mantle and become the new master of nightmares. And then I must make sure that I do my job and do it well, and not fall into corruption as she has. Master says that Nightmare Moon has nearly broken the scales and that the balance must be restored. And we can do it together Luna, if you will have me.” 

Luna lifted her head, her eyes peering into the darkness. There was no visible sign of Rookwood. Something brushed against her ear, nearly causing her to scream, her bowels nearly turning into water. “Rookwood,” she began, “you stupid lovesick fool. Do you not understand the burden of immortality?” 

“I am starting to see it Luna. I saw forever a few times now. Once the night I died, the second time when I was tested, down in the deepest depths of Tartarus, where they flayed my essence and determined the nature of my soul.” 

Luna swallowed, hard, her eyes squeezing shut. “I still love you. That has not changed.” 

There was a deep sigh from the darkness all around her. Something brushed against her lips, Luna found herself pressing forward, but touching nothing. 

“Rookwood, who is your master… I must know.” Luna said, her voice wavering, low, husky with emotion and fear. 

“Death. I have become part of his mantle, just as Violet is one of his children.” 

Luna shrieked, unable to help herself, but to her credit she did not shove the foal away. 

“I am to torment the souls of the living and drive them back into the light so that they will not have to endure what comes after in the dark. And I’ve been to the very bottom of that darkness. I have plumbed its depths and experienced its horrors as punishment for my hubris. I am to carry what I have endured as a message to others so that they might be spared, as was Nightmare Moon’s original task. Now, she brings the horrors of that darkness to the living for her own pleasure, as she has done with you. I am tasked with dragging her back to that place. If I fail, then I shall be returned, and I will continue to suffer until such a time that I have learned my lesson. My hubris runs deep. And there is much I must learn. It will take a long time.”

“Your master will let you stay with me?” Luna asked. 

“That was explicit in our bargain. You are the carrot. I chose the carrot. I had already experienced a great deal of the stick. I had to learn why the carrot was so valuable and precious. I had to truly desire the carrot and discover why it was the preferable option. I endured my lessons and have been made wiser. At least I am honest now when I say what I will endure to be with you. I was young and foolish before, and full of weakness. The master has reshaped my will.” 

Luna felt queasy. 

“You of course, still have your free will. You are not under obligations to choose me or even accept me back. I chose, not caring of this outcome. The master says I still have much foolishness to carve out of my essence, but for now, my youthful optimism amuses him.”  

“Enough!” Luna cried. “Enough. I cannot bear to hear you so glibly talk about your torture. I would not send you away, not after what you’ve done.” 

“I am like Violet now. I need love of the living to draw me back. It will make me real. Give me substance and form. It will draw me back into the lands of the living and give me vitality. Nightmare Moon was once like this, but love died and what she craved, what she needed, was cut off and so she sought other ways to draw vitality and sustain herself. She has become corrupted. She is to be a lesson for me, a warning of what I must not do, or else one day, I too shall share in her torment. I cannot force or take this love, cannot coerce it, it must be given freely. Much as I loved Violet when she was little more than a shambling pile of rotten meat. Violet became my first test. My dreadful attachment to self was my second. And destroying Nightmare Moon will become my third.” 

“You loved me.” Violet said, finally saying something. “And that pleased our master.” Her voice was odd. “Master did not expect for you to love so readily after what you had endured, when you witnessed my creation. You genuinely surprised him, not an easy thing to do.” 

“I still love you Rookwood. I have been sick with grief.” Luna confessed. “The darkness has been difficult to face.” 

“I know.” Rookwood acknowledged. “And to be honest, it will get darker. Nightmare Moon is without a body at the moment, desperate, and dangerous. And she has the means to reenter the world. Even now, she works to have what she so desperately craves, a body with flesh and bone, she mistakes carnal pleasures for love, believing them to be one in the same. I grow weary Luna. I fear I cannot keep this up much longer. I will return again, and we shall talk soon once I regain my strength. I love you.” 

“Rookwood, don’t leave me again, I love you…” Luna begged. 

There was no answer from the darkness, just a final brush against her ear. 

“Your heart’s desire is dependent upon learning to love the darkness Luna.” Violet said cryptically. “It is your choice. No one can make it but you. The one who loves you has offered you a boon to light your way, you have no idea what the cost was to his own essence, as there is no currency where he resides, only an exchange of pain, which leads to wisdom and understanding. He chose wisdom to give you light. What you desire is within your reach, should you choose it.” 

Luna felt bile rising in her throat. 

Violet yawned, and cuddled against Luna’s side, wrapping her foreleg around Luna’s own foreleg. “I’m sleepy.” Violet announced. 

Luna nodded. “Let’s put you to bed little one.” Luna’s teeth clattered together as she spoke, her fear now a living thing crawling around inside of her guts. 

Luna was still terrified of the dark. 
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 21
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The body only got in the way. It was holding me back. I left it behind. Violet collected me and we went home together.

Luna pondered the terrible and terrifying meaning of Rookwood’s words. 

Home. 

Tartarus. 

Is that where Violet went every day when the sun rose? 

Home.

Luna began to feel queasy, struggling to take it all in. She felt her gorge rising. 

Home.

Violet had taken Rookwood home.

Luna ran to the bathroom, unable to wink, and proceeded to blow chunks. She was sick for a good quarter of an hour, left sore and heaving, lying on her back on the cool tile floor. She rubbed her stomach, taking in deep heaving breaths as she tried to reassert control over herself. Luna failed in her efforts to restore control, and instead began to weep bitterly. 



 

Celestia carefully pondered her sister’s words and everything that Luna had said. The long conversation with Rookwood in the dark. The nature of Rookwood’s deal. The role that Violet had played. Rookwood’s long tortures in the infernal pits. And Luna had babbled frantically a great deal about the word “home.” The entire thing had upset her a great deal. 

Celestia thought back to her first impressions of Rookwood and cursed herself. 

Rookwood was the very worst sort of lovesick fool. The sort that actually did something truly memorable for their loves. Celestia had lived a long time and had heard many stories about love, and proclamations of love. She had seen all manner of tragedy in her long life. She even knew about a famous painter pony who had cut off his own ear to impress his love, only to have his love spurned. 

Rookwood had gone to Tartarus and had made a deal with Death. 

Celestia knew that immortal beings were not simply born. They had to ascend. She had done it. Luna had done it. Several beings had ascended into positions of immortality. 

Rookwood had descended. Where other beings had rose up, Rookwood had gone down. He allowed himself to be plunged into the depths and be chained to a dreadful fate, all out of a foolish lovesick gesture. 

And Celestia felt herself loving him for it. There were romantic gestures, and then there were romantic gestures. For a brief moment, she envied Luna. Celestia shook her head, dispelling the unwanted emotion. 

Celestia shifted, trying to settle her body into a more comfortable position, and then rested her head upon Luna’s belly, her ear pressed to Luna’s navel, trying to listen for signs of life. Celestia’s ear flickered, causing Luna to twitch and pull. 

“I swear you do that on purpose!” Luna accused. 

Celestia said nothing, feeling Luna’s pelt against her cheek. 



 

Rookwood walked slowly forward, Violet by his side. 

Here, Rookwood had a body. He had substance and form. And could feel pain. Violet was remarkably solid and study here, with no trace of decay or rot. And Violet never seemed to have any memory of the events that took place here. 

His master’s throne was in the distance, at the end of this impossibly large throne room. As Rookwood approached, the guard bowed, all of them horrible shambling creatures, a terrifying collection of body parts and bits of different creatures thrown together and bound with magic. 

As Rookwood drew near, he stopped and bowed respectfully, waiting to be called before he dared to approach any further. Violet on the other hoof, had no such compunction and had ran forward, squealing happily. 

“Rise. Approach.” 

Rookwood did as he was bid. 

He looked up at the terrible figure on the throne. A two headed skeletal pony. There were many Lords here, horrifying figures of terrible and frightful power, and this was the Reaper of Ponies. The two heads argued judgment, one was the Accuser, the other, the Defender. Beside him was an enormous set of scales. A pile of bones sat near the throne. 

Violet had crawled into the throne with Death and made herself comfortable. 

“How goes your efforts?” 

Rookwood felt nervous and cleared his throat. “I have finally managed to talk to Luna.” 

“This is good. And how were you received?” 

“She was terrified,” replied Rookwood, “but she listened. She darkened the room and I was able to project my voice. I was able to touch her. I felt her warmth.” 

The Accuser nodded, his bone face somehow seeming pleased. The Defender looked sad somehow, reaching up and scratching at his jawbone. The Accuser reached down and gently stroked Violet, his actions somehow disturbingly loving. 

“And how does warmth feel after all this time.?” 

“I…” Rookwood fell silent, unable to finish his sentence. 

“You desire it, yes?” 

Rookwood nodded. 

“If you ever take that warmth by force or through coercion, I personally will flay your remains.”

Rookwood nodded. 

“Rookwood would never do that. I have been with the tormentors. I have gazed into his soul as it was laid bare and each piece carefully studied and examined. While Rookwood was entirely too willing to violate Nightmare Moon, he is placid and meek towards Luna.” Violet smiled broadly as she spoke, rubbing herself against Death’s bones. “Luna holds his purity. Think about what he has endured for her and what he will endure to be with her.” 

The Accuser and the Defender looked at one another, exchanging a glance. 

“We find ourselves in an interesting position.” 

Rookwood looked up, daring to look his master in the eye. 

The Accuser and the Defender both glared down at him. “Such defiance, even after all of your lessons…” Both heads shook together in unison. “No matter, it pleases us. We wish for a willful streak and some defiance to remain. We find ourselves curious and we desire to see the outcome of your service. Perhaps love can sustain what fear has failed to keep subservient. There have been many masters of the nightmare realms. All of them monsters. You are quite unlike all those who have come before you. You chose service, not to lord over others, but to serve another. Come forward.” 

Rookwood did as he was bid, carefully coming forward, his head low, taking each step up towards the throne slowly. He passed close to a pile of bones and paused, turning to look at them, regarding them carefully. He had spent some time as a bonepile, thinking about what he had done. He turned to look up at Death, and respectfully approached the throne. 

He kneeled at Death’s hooves. 

There was a clank and clatter of bones moving, and Death leaned forward, reaching down. Rookwood did not dare flinch of pull away. To do so would be folly, the punishment severe. He felt something burning cold touching his head, flooding his mind with terrible pain. Not he worst pain the had experienced, but it was unpleasant. With the pain, there came new understanding, new insight, and a faint throb of new power. 

“Rise. Kneel no longer.”

Rookwood struggled to rise, his legs wobbling like a newborn foal, but he dared not disobey, not after just what had happened. His brain burned with images, new images, a new sense of vision. 

“Fetch me that skull.” The Accuser demanded. 

Rookwood turned, seeing the skull indicated, a pony skull, a unicorn skull. He touched it with shadow, lifting it easily, holding it aloft, holding it out to Death. 

“Place it upon the scale.” The Defender commanded. 

Rookwood did not argue. This was unthinkable. In all of his time here, no one had ever placed anything on the scale but Death. He felt a faint prickle of fear. 

Rookwood lowered the skull upon the scale. It landed with a thump and a clank. The scale did not move, it did not sway from side to side. It stayed level. 

Death made a gesture and the skull became a pony. A unicorn pony. He stood frozen, unable to move, eyes wide with terror, his face in a rictus of fear. 

“We are in agreement.” Both of Death’s heads said to one another, looking at each other, exchanging an eyeless glance. “Rookwood, this unicorn falls under your dominion. Judge him. And then cast him to his fate.” 

“I have never done this before.” Rookwood said nervously, fearing punishment for not obeying right away. He cowered. 

No punishment seemed forthcoming. 

“Rookwood, the process is simple. We shall guide you through it. You will know as it happens. You are now my mantle and an extension of my will. Now do as I have commanded.” 

Rookwood turned and faced the paralysed unicorn, regarding him carefully. Rookwood’s mind began to flood with images. He began to know things. Suddenly, Rookwood knew terrible things.

“Who you were in life is not important,” said Rookwood, “only what you have done matters now. Do you wish to confess your sins and relieve your burdens, or shall I flay your secrets from you? I already know what you have done, but you WILL confess them with your lips.” 

The unicorn trembled, but was unable to do anything but tremble. A low pleading whimper escaped from his throat. His eyes darted to Violet. 

“I am not a patient pony.” Rookwood announced. “But I do have all the time in the world.” 

“I was part of the cult known as the Shroud of Nightmares.” The unicorn whimpered, his eyes growing wide and filled with panic. “We worked to give Nightmare Moon power. I did awful things.” 

Rookwood sighed. “I have no time for generalities.” As he spoke, a tendril of shadow drifted from his body and traveled up the unicorn’s nose. 

The unicorn began to scream, his eyes rolling back into his head, his body convulsing but locked into place. 

“Do you wish to confess and plead for mercy or not?” Rookwood demanded, the tendril of shadow still in place. 

“Mercy,” the unicorn pleaded, “I desire mercy. I was a member of the Shroud of Nightmares and we worked to do the will of Nightmare Moon. I kidnapped her from her parents and prepared her for Nightmare Moon using forbidden rituals involving the black art of necromancy.” The unicorn’s eyes were locked on Violet. 

Rookwood felt a surprisingly brief surge of anger, followed by a feeling of pity. 

“I did things with her body, stealing away her fillyhood, corrupting her and stealing her innocence so she would be a better vessel for Nightmare Moon, who attempted to corrupt her soul.” The unicorn was panting with panic now, terror visible on his face. 

Violet looked angry, scowling, her eyes narrowed, her muzzle scrunched. Her tiny nostrils flared. 

Rookwood’s pity vanished and was replaced with sorrow. 

“How could you?” Violet asked. 

The unicorn began to sob pitifully, unable to answer. 

Rookwood flexed his will, making the shadowy tendril come to life. The unicorn writhed in place, his body convulsing, and his flesh looked as though snakes crawled just under the surface of his skin. 

“You will answer her.” Rookwood commanded. “Or I will become wrathful.” 

The unicorn gibbered for several minutes, uttering wordless cries, until Rookwood gave a faint tug on the tendril going up his nose. The unicorn mewled with pain one final time and spoke: “I was a nobody in life… Nightmare Moon promised me power. When I took your innocence I lost my own. I’d never been with anypony before. I was desperate to know female flesh.” The unicorn broke down into more frightful cries. 

“And that excuses you?” Violet demanded. 

Death lifted the filly into his forelegs and began to comfort her, stroking her side and trying to sooth her obvious hurt. 

“When you jammed yourself into me it hurt me. I felt you tear through my insides. I was too little to take all of you in and yet you did not relent. You continued until things inside of me tore open. And as if that wasn’t enough, you tossed me into the dream realm to be violated by her. You crushed my face into the floor and then stood upon my ear while you satisfied your sick needs.” Violet’s voice was an accusing screech, her eyes wide, spittle flew from her mouth as she spoke. 

“I am sorry!” The unicorn cried. 

“No,” replied Rookwood, “you are not sorry. Not yet. But you will be. There will come a day that you will plead for her forgiveness and you will mean it, pathetic creature.” 

The unicorn fell silent, his legs collapsing beneath him. The scales tipped, one side crashing downward, and Violet squirmed in Death’s embrace. 

“I have no council.” Death offered, both heads speaking as one. 

“One hundred years in the pit, followed by another one hundred years as a bonepile.” Rookwood said, causing the scales to tilt. They did not level however. 

“This does not seem to be a punishment equal to his sins.” Death announced. 

“Am I to have my judgments questioned?” Rookwood inquired, daring to be defiant. 

“No,” Death responded, “I am not questioning your judgments, but I do call into question your mercy. What he did to Violet was heinous. How can you not seek vengeance?” 

“It is not my place to seek vengeance. I question my place to pass judgment. I am hesitant to give punishment, knowing of my own sins. I fear becoming a hypocrite.” Rookwood said. “I am to the Lord of Nightmares, not the Lord of Vengeance. “

Death nodded slowly. 

Violet calmed upon hearing Rookwood’s words. She looked up at Death, gazing at him intently, her mouth drawn into a pinched line. 

Rookwood pulled his tendril from the unicorn’s nose and stepped backwards away from the scales, moving out of the way of the tormentor coming to claim the unicorn. Rookwood closed his eyes, unable to look at the terrible abomination. He heard the unicorn scream, his terrified howls filling the throne room. And then, the screams were gone. And so was the unicorn and his tormentor. 

“We are pleased with your reasoning Rookwood. It seems our interest in you will be rewarded.” 

Rookwood bowed, kneeling down on both of his front knees, his nose touching the ground. 

“Rise. And do not bow again unless I specifically command you to do so. I send you into the world as my sinister left hoof and an extension of my will. Nightmare Moon and all those who serve her are now in your dominion, you will hunt them down, you will seek them out, you will take them, you will pull them into true darkness, and you will bring them here. And once here, you will cast them upon the scales and determine what is to be done with them. Do you understand?” 

“Yes my master.” Rookwood answered.

“And you are never to call me master again, unless of course you fail me and are dragged before me as a traitor to my whims. You will address me as Death and nothing else.” 

“Yes Death.” Rookwood replied, rising. 

Death gently set Violet down before his throne, stroking her neck one final time with his skeletal foreleg, his touch gentle and genuinely caring. The Accuser looked at Rookwood, while the Defender looked at Violet. A small silver chain appeared, a hobble. One end clamped around Rookwood’s rear fetlock, the leg that he had broken in his final hours of life, the other end locked around Violet’s tiny leg. Death continued to study them both for quite some time. 

“What is this?” Rookwood asked, his face full of concern. 

“Violet is now yours. She is your psychopomp. Your messenger. An extension of your will. Her soul is now bound to your own. Should you ever fail me, know that as you are tormented, she will feel every horrible thing that will happen to you, as you once felt her torments.” 

Rookwood nodded, accepting his fate stoically, knowing that no amount of protest would fix it. 

Violet looked up at him, her eyes wide and unblinking. “I am not afraid. I know you wouldn’t allow me to be hurt. I have seen your soul.” 

Rookwood felt a warm rush of gratitude as Violet hugged his foreleg. 
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 22
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Luna had grown impatient and had taken matters into her own hoof. She knew that what she was doing was impetuous and foolish, but Rookwood did not have a monopoly on being a lovesick fool. Her armored shoes struck death knells on the black basalt stone floor. She was covered from horn to hoof in plate mail, a relic from an earlier time. Her sister, Celestia, who did not agree with this course of action, but had insisted on coming with her, strode beside her, also covered in plated mail and protective barding. 

Luna’s most trusted guards also walked with them, not that they were capable of doing anything. Not here. They were there for display, for show, a token gesture and nothing more. It was more for their benefit. The ability to boast that you had been to Tartarus was a rare prize. It was a boast that was sure to get you a few free drinks, and it made an interesting story to tell your grandfoals. 

It had been a while since Luna had last visited Tartarus. 

Luna was in a massive throne room, impossibly large, something that would only fit within extra-dimensional space. Death was being an exceptionally gracious host and had agreed to see them right away. Death was known for making visitors wait for centuries, especially immortal visitors. Waiting was one of the many punishments of Tartarus. 

Luna approached the throne, head held high, her armor clanking with every step. It echoed into empty spaces and off of massive basalt pillars. It pressed painfully against her extended belly, a pain she did her best to ignore. 

“Greetings.” The Accuser studied Luna, his blank eye sockets peering at her intently. 

“We have been expecting you. To be honest, I am surprised you did not arrive sooner.” The Defender watched Celestia carefully, there had been harsh words between them before. 

“Where is he?” Luna demanded. 

“No exchange of pleasantries?” “How rude.” Both of Death’s heads turned to look at one another and then went back to looking at the sisters, each head eyeing a differing sister. “You haven’t aged a day.” Both heads spoke in unison this time, jawbones clacking. 

“WHERE IS HE?” Luna demanded again, her voice booming through the vast space. “Are you torturing him even now?” 

Both of Death’s heads turned to Luna. “No. Rookwood rests. For now, that part of his education is done. He has acquired much wisdom and the knowledge to do his job.” 

“So he is comfortable? And at peace? And what of Violet? Is she here?” Luna demanded. 

Death sighed. 

“Answer.” Celestia said, her voice authoritative and commanding. 

Death shifted on his throne, settling his bones. “If I came into your throneroom and behaved this way, you’d be quite upset. What ever happened to the pantheon behaving pleasantly to one another?” Both heads asked in unison. 

Luna stopped her hoof, causing a large crack to appear, splitting the basalt. 

“Tartarus hath no fury like that of a mare scorned.” Celestia warned. “Do not force me to bring the sun here.” 

Death made a gesture with his hoof and somehow his bone structure looked annoyed. “The last time you did that it made quite the mess. Parts of Tartarus are still burning. You certainly changed the landscape.” Death said in languid tones. “We use those burning pits by the way. They’ve been most useful.” 

“ENOUGH!” Luna shrieked, her grief thick in her voice. 

Luna’s guard moved to form a protective circle around the two sisters, a futile and useless gesture, but it made them feel better. 

“Rookwood is currently in tutelage with the Reaper of Griffons.” The Accuser lifted his skeletal hoof and studied it. 

“They are out in the realms of the living collecting souls.” The Defender added. “There is a plague in the griffon homeland. The Reaper of Griffons felt the need to go and deal with the griffon chicks and hatchlings personally rather than send an extension of her will. Rookwood is learning how to comfort those freshly dead and seeing to the welfare of the very young.” 

Luna calmed visibly and lifted her visor, making her face visible. Her guard relaxed slightly. Celestia followed her sister’s lead, also lifting her visor and making her face visible and exposed. 

Death seemed unphased by the gesture of trust. 

“He does this willingly?” Celestia asked

“After his experience with Violet, he jumped at the chance to do so.” The Accuser answered. 

Celestia took a deep calming breath and blinked several times, feeling a rush of relief. 

“There is a manner I wish to discuss.” Luna announced. 

“if it is the release of his soul, you know the answer.” Death said in unison. 

Luna bared her teeth for a moment, her lips curled into a snarl. Her armor squealed and clanked as her body tensed and her muscles flexed. “No. There is a different matter I wish to discuss. A difficult issue that I need to settle with you.” 

“I am listening.” Death replied in unison. 

“Before his death, Rookwood and I planned to be married. Nothing was ever made final, but it had been thought about.” Luna’s voice was pained, her regal tone interrupted by cracks of emotion breaking her words. 

“And you wish to marry a damned soul?” The Accuser asked. 

“Do you wish to sustain him in the physical realms?” The Defender inquired. 

“Yes.” Luna answered, her voice breaking once again, becoming shrill and emotional. 

“We pondered if this might be the case.” Death said, his voices in harmony. “We hoped that this might be the case.” 

“What?” Celestia asked, her voice full of surprise and confusion. 

“We need Rookwood anchored and secured. We have needs that need to be met and we have chosen Rookwood as an extension of our will, a shred of our mantle. We need a stable Lord of Nightmares. Someone that will do the job for the right reasons. We do not need another monster. We need someone who will drive souls back into the light out of a sense of compassion and love, and not out of a sense of sadism and malice, satisfying their own sick needs..” Death’s heads turned to one another several times as they spoke, their jawbones creaking. “I do not enjoy having to torture the damned or having to sentence souls to time spent as a bonepile.”

“What is so bad about being a bonepile?” A guard dared ask, breaking protocol. 

Death looked mildly annoyed. “Imagine if you will, being forced to think about all of the terrible things you’ve done and how it might have hurt others And then being forced to think about how those you hurt may have gone on to hurt others because of your actions. Like a stone dropped into a pond, causing ripples. It is a period of deep reflection where you try to understand how much harm you cause in the world. And should your mind wander, and you cease to be reflective, well, imagine sitting on a white hot plate of iron.” 

The guard hissed, his wings fluttering, his tail flickering. “I gotta stop gambling.” 

“After some time spent in a bonepile, most souls are eager to discuss their failings and beg forgiveness for their sins. And if they are truly repentant, they pass on to Elysium.” Death commented. 

“About the idea of marriage...” Luna said, restoring the conversation. “If I were to marry him, I need to know that you will not interfere in Equestrian politics. That you will not use Rookwood to sway opinions in the realms of the living. I need for you to declare neutrality in your hold over him.” 

“Done.” Agreed the Accuser. 

“Wait.” The Defender said. 

The Accuser shot the Defender an annoyed and irritated look. 

“I have a proposal,” the Defender announced, “something you will do anyway, but I’d like to make it official.” 

“We are listening.” Celestia said, looking at Luna, who stood nodding. 

“We propose a temporary alliance. We want Nightmare Moon destroyed. Gone. We want her drug before us in chains so that she might learn the error of her ways. We would ask you to assist Rookwood in his efforts, something I know you will already do. In return, we will give you access to our considerable resources, we will send aid to help you in your efforts, and we give the promise to remain neutral in future dealings.” The Defender sat back and looked pleased with himself. “We will not use our hold over Rookwood against you or your efforts, provided of course that you never move against us directly.” 

“Done.” Luna said, looking at her sister, who was nodding. 

“I agree.” The Accuser replied. 

“I ask a boon.” Celestia said, her voice nervous. 

“Speak Solar Empress.” The Accuser said. 

“The foal, Violet. I understand that she is probably bound in some way to these events, and that cannot be changed. But I would like the ability to hold her and comfort her. It is heart breaking to see her and be unable to sooth her hurts.” Celestia’s voice cracked nearly as much as Luna’s did, a single tear spilled from Celestia’s eye and landed upon the black basalt. 

Death slid from his throne, his bones clattering, and he landed on his four hooves. He stretched his skeletal wings, appearing almost lazy, and stretched his neck bones, causing them to crackle. He strode towards Celestia, Luna’s guard now backing away and giving Death plenty of room. 

“I did not expect one so white and pure to so readily accept death.” The Defender announced as Death continued towards Celestia. 

“Do you have anything to offer in return?” Death asked, his voices speaking together. 

“Only the comfort of a foal that will never age and will know suffering through the ages.” Celestia responded, her tone both sad and angry. 

“We find your terms acceptable.” Death said, extending his hoof and touching Celestia’s armor, pressing his hoof through the metal as though it was not there. There was a loud hissing sound and the smell of burnt hair and flesh. 

Celestia gritted her teeth but did not cry out, her eyes squeezing shut as the burning continued. She stood, resolute against the pain, determined not to cry out or falter. 

Celestia was proud. 

Should she ever end up as a bone pile, it was something she’d have to think about. 

Luna watched, waiting, wondering what she might have to endure to be with Rookwood. Tartarus had its own currency of exchange. She also worried a great deal about her foal. Even now, her armor was pressing uncomfortably against her belly, reminding her of what she carried. 

With a final hiss, Death withdrew from Celestia, pulling his hoof away. Celestia stood, teeth bared, her nostrils flaring, smoke rising from her chest. Her eyes blazed with inner fire, and her mane and tail had become a solar corona. 

“Done.” Death said, a heavy sense of finality in his words. “I wish to offer a boon to the mother-to-be as well.” Death announced. 

“Do you wish to brand me?” Luna asked.

“No,” replied Death, his heads speaking in unison, “but the knowledge will hurt you even while it comforts you.” 

Luna stood at attention with a clank, her armor clattering as she braced herself. “I accept.” 

Death turned towards Luna, taking a step closer to her. Both heads regarded her, studying her, taking in her regal beauty. Even in plated mail, Luna was a radiant creature. “When Rookwood’s soul was laid bare, stripped down to his component parts, as the tormentors examined what he was made of, Rookwood used your name to retain his own force of will and remained defiant. A defiant and willful streak that he still bears. Usually, the tormentors have means to root out such unruly behaviour. Believe me, they rose to the challenge.” 

Luna remained rigid for a several moments, and then staggered, falling sideways, her guard scrambling to catch her before she fell. She crashed into one of her guard, leaning against his body, her breathing heavy and ragged in her throat. Luna’s legs wobbled, her armor clattering as she struggled to remain standing. 

“I chose Rookwood because his defiant streak amused me.” Death continued. “Mortals usually lack any sort of meaningful passion. They mean well, and they love, but when it comes right down to it, their souls lack conviction to follow through with any sort of real testing and love crumbles away like so much dust and dirt over time. Rookwood willingly allowed every aspect of his being to be taken, the tormentors had barely even begun their work when Rookwood broke and gave of himself, but Rookwood stubbornly refused to let go of his sense of love to allow it to be examined. The tormentors became quite frustrated. The concept of ‘privacy’ infuriates them to no end. There are no secrets here in Tartarus. I had to personally take a hoof in the matter.”  

Luna felt herself being held aloft in magic, sparing her an embarrassing fall. Her tongue felt dry and clove to the roof of her mouth. Her lips clung painfully to her teeth, her mouth as dry as the desert. She struggled not to break. 

“In the end, this is why I chose him and allowed him to broker a bargain.” Death said. “I believe that Rookwood will perform his task and keep to the terms of his service out of a simple desire to be with you. It is a gamble I am willing to take. You should spend some time reflecting upon the nature of your love.” 

“Thank you.” Luna replied, her voice a harsh gravely whisper. “I will take your words into consideration and think upon the wisdom you have so graciously offered.” 

“And now, I must ask you to leave. I have others waiting to see me, and I must get back to pondering important matters while I keep them waiting.” Death said in unison. 
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 23
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Luna found herself pulled into a dreamscape not her own. She began to panic, looking around her, realising she was in the pastoral dreamscape of rabbits. With even more alarm, she realised she was a rabbit. Small, blue, and rather pregnant looking. 

A large purple raven cawed at her from a tree, and she saw an avocado green rabbit. Her mind began to race when she realised who it was, the last time she had seen him here he had been brown and looked just like Mr. Bun. 

Rookwood. 

Luna began to bounce, hopping around madly, not sure what to say or do. 

“Luna… I’ve missed you.”

His voice. His voice.

“Rookwood!” Luna cried, discovering she could talk in rabbit form. She bounded forward and grabbed Rookwood, squeezing him in her little bunny legs, and pressing her nose into his face. 

The two held one another for a long time, the purple raven keeping watch from its tree branch. 

“This is my dreamscape.” Rookwood announced. “I am having to figure things out as I go. I really do not know what I am doing, but Death has given me time to perfect my craft, and I am to ask you for advice. I heard that you dropped by…" Rookwood buried his bunny nose into Luna’s long blue ear and squeezed her for all he was worth. 

The raven cawed a few times, dancing from foot to foot on its branch. 

“This is a fine start, but hardly fitting for the Lord of Nightmares.” Luna said breathlessly. “I’ve missed you so much… How long do we have here?” 

“Long enough.” Rookwood replied. “But I might be a little distracted from time to time.” 

“Why?” Inquired Luna. 

“Because while I am here, I am also collecting souls in the griffon homeland. The plague is decimating their population and killing their young,” replied Rookwood, “and this is my first time spitting my will between two locations. I’ve never been omnipresent before.” 

Luna made a surprised bunny squeak. 

“I don’t know how you do it.” Rookwood said, shaking his bunny head, causing his ears to wobble around. “I am only in two places at once right now, and I feel like my thoughts are going to tear me in half.” 

“I can help you Rookwood. I’ve been in thousands of places all at once,” Luna said as she pulled him even closer, sniffing his fur and running her paws up and down his back, “ the first split is always the hardest, after that it gets much easier. Other parts of you just run in the background. It becomes like breathing and walking. Welcome to the pantheon, Sovereign of Shadow. This is the first step towards much larger steps.” 

Rookwood ran his paws over Luna’s rounded belly, feeling her warmth, feeling her life. It was intoxicating for him. 

“I am guessing the raven is Violet?” Luna asked, now breathing heavily. 

“Yes. She watches. I doubt Nightmare Moon could come here, and I pity her if she does. Death’s will is strong here, he is helping me sustain this place until I am strong enough to do so on my own.” Rookwood began to gasp and heave breathlessly as he could feel Luna’s heart beating. 

“I am going to marry you.” Luna whispered. 

“I know.” Rookwood said. 

“And if possible, I intend to have my little bunny way with you.” Luna teased. 

“I want that. I really want that. Luna, I need to feel life again. You don’t know what it is like… being dead. Remembering life. I understand why Violet spent all those hours content to just be hugged and stroked. Even though this is only a dream, it is close enough to satisfy. One day though, I will hold your body again, I want you so badly.” Rookwood’s eyes squeezed shut and he began to stroke Luna’s long blue ears. 

“Bunnies Rookwood, bunnies, you had to make us bunnies!” Luna giggled. “How would you like to feel hot throbbing life from the inside?” Luna squealed as Rookwood’s bunny paw felt her up in response. “Oh, we’re going to go at it like rabbits!” 





Luna awoke from her dream, knowing it had been more than a dream. Her bed was damp, the tang of her own arousal sharp in her nose, a lingering feeling of warmth down in her mareflesh. Her breathing was heavy and as she woke, she felt a trailing touch that started at her breastbone and worked its way down to her now slightly swollen teats. Something brushed up against her ear. 

It was almost sundown. Luna felt strangely full of hope. It was an odd feeling, given everything that had happened. And yet, there it was, burning within her breast, lifting away some of her depression. She practically bounded out of bed, landing on her hooves, dancing into the bathroom, and began to to clean herself up for the long night ahead of her. 

As she stood in the shower, she could hear the maids cleaning up in the other room, and Luna felt a faint flush of embarrassment. Having to clean up was one thing when Rookwood had been sharing her bed, but now, Luna was back to sleeping alone.



 

Celestia had been in Luna’s room when the sun settled below the horizon and Violet popped into existence. Violet had barely been in the physical realm for all of a few seconds before Celestia had snatched her up in a magical hold and hauled her in for a hug, cuddling her tightly on the sofa were Celestia had sat waiting. 

Violet seemed all too happy to be squished by the large white alicorn. Celestia was large and warm… And Violet craved warmth. 

Luna rose and began to pace back and forth. “Is he going to visit tonight?” 

“I know he plans to try. But then again, he plans to try almost every night. He’s getting stronger,” Violet answered. “Collecting souls has given him strength.” 

Celestia scowled slightly at Violet’s words. 

Violet reached up and placed a hoof over Celestia’s scowl. “You shouldn’t condemn what is done out of love.” 

“No, I suppose I shouldn’t,” Celestia agreed. 

“You seem more aware of what goes on…” Luna said, realising that Violet was aware of certain details and that her voice hadn’t changed. 

“I have been bonded to Rookwood. I am his psychopomp. My mind and memories are being allowed to develop so I might serve him better,” Violet explained. 

A chilling thought ran through Celestia’s mind. “Violet, could somepony hurt you to get to Rookwood?” 

“I don’t know,” Violet replied. “But I do know that if somepony tried to hurt me again, Death would come to claim them.” 

Celestia felt herself shiver at the foal’s words. Luna seemed frozen in place, her eyes wide. 

“And Rookwood would probably have permission to bring the tormentors with him to the physical realms to announce Death’s imminent arrival,” Violet added. 

Celestia shuddered, shaking Violet, who giggled from the sudden tickle. 

“Look Violet, your mother Luna is wearing mascara and she looks very hopeful. She hasn’t been this excited about anything in quite some time,” Celestia whispered in Violet’s ear, causing Violet’s ear to flicker. 

“I have every right to be happy,” Luna grumbled. 

“Yes, you do,” agreed Celestia. 

“We need to start planning a wedding Celestia. After the funeral, it might be a comfort to make this a public affair, if ponies will actually attend,” Luna said. 

“Do you think they would come?” asked Celestia. 

“They might,” Luna answered. 

“Rookwood was seen as a hero,” Celestia mentioned. 

“A hero for what?” 

Both sisters froze, looking at one another, and Violet once again giggled. 

“Rookwood?” asked Luna. 

“I was once,” replied Rookwood. 

“And what are you now?” inquired Luna. 

“Your devoted servant throughout the ages,” answered Rookwood. 

“We were just discussing the possibility of marriage,” said Celestia. 

“Yeah, I’ve been listening for a while. Took a while to find my voice,” replied Rookwood. 

“Going to be difficult to have a marriage if the groom cannot show up,” Celestia commented. 

“He’s getting better,” Violet offered.

Luna saw it first. A flicker of darkness within the shadow of the room. It became darker still, drawing the shadows of the room into it, becoming blacker, hard to see, like a tear in the darkness. The temperature dropped. Celestia began to feel cold terror creeping along her flesh. Something dark moved within the room. Something from the lower planes lurked in the shadows. Celestia found it hard to stomach the feeling, she had once fought these sorts of creatures on their home turf. 

A foul stench filled the room, as though somepony had opened a sepulchre filled with the recently dead. It was strongest for a moment, and then began to fade away, 

Celestia peered into the black shadow, expecting perhaps to see a figure cloaked in black, or even a skeleton perhaps. She didn’t know exactly what she was expecting. 

She certainly wasn’t expecting a faint avocado green outline of a pony. No horn. No sense of identity for what Rookwood had been, only what he was now. He certainly didn’t need a horn. He didn’t need to focus shadow, he was shadow. He shimmered faintly in the darkness, transparent and without form. 

Luna went to him, silent, trying to touch him, her hoof passing through him. She made a frustrated grunt. “You tease,” she muttered. 

“One of these days, I am going to tug your ear for saying that,” Rookwood promised. 

“You were certainly tugging her ears in that dream,” Violet commented. 

“What?” asked Celestia. 

There was an uncomfortable silence from Rookwood and Luna. 

“Luna was in a dream with Rookwood and they were bunnies,” explained Violet innocently. “And they hugged a lot and make little squeaky sounds.” 

Celestia looked down at the foal cradled to her barrel. “Did they now?” inquired Celestia. 

Violet nodded. “They were happy little huggy bunnies,” Violet said, giggling. “And I was a bird. I got to sit in a tree and enjoy the day.” 

“They were ‘huggy’ bunnies?” said Celestia in low tones. 

Violet nodded. 

“I’m happy for you Luna,” Celestia said unexpectedly. “It was a dream that started this, perhaps this is another omen. A dream brought you together, perhaps this will do the same.”

“Thank you sister,” Luna said, her tone embarrassed and joyful. 

“I think that exchange from earlier is why I am here now,” confessed Rookwood. 

“You had better not leave me standing at the podium when we are married, I’ll come to Tartarus again and speak with you personally,” Luna threatened, poking at Rookwood’s form with her hoof. 

Rookwood’s face looked pained, his eyes wide, almost pleading, his ears dropping. He shifted uncomfortably from one set of hooves to the other, even though he had no real hooves to touch the ground. His tail flicked a few times. His gaze dropped away from Luna’s. 

“Rookwood, I’m sorry, I was teasing,” Luna apologised. 

“I really want to be there,” Rookwood confessed. 

“The wedding will be the strangest ever in our history,” Celestia stated. “It will have to be at night. Probably near the midnight hour. And held in the dark or the near dark. If ponies do show up, they will also be driven to a state of near panic by the fear that Rookwood generates. I know I am having trouble right now, and I am an alicorn. I cannot imagine what it would to one of our subjects.” 

“They will come,” Luna stated confidently. “They will remember what Rookwood did for them. What Rookwood did for me.” 

“Can I come?” begged Violet. 

“Of course you can. I’ll help you be a flower filly,” Celestia whispered into Violet’s ticklish ear. 

“But I’m dead, will ponies want me there?” asked Violet. 

“I’m dead. Sort of,” Rookwood added. 

“Rookwood’s parents are forbidden from attending,” Celestia said forcefully. 

“I’m dead to them,” Rookwood snorted. 

Luna chuckled in spite of herself, trying to hold it in and failing. 

“I have grandparents?” asked Violet. 

“Yes, but they are icky. You can have me as your aunt,” Celestia replied. 

“I’m icky sometimes,” Violet said. 

“No Violet, these ponies are icky. Really icky. I’d rather hug you,” Celestia argued. 

Violet said nothing, but rested her head against Celestia’s neck. “It is nice having an aunt,” Violet murmured, closing her eyes. 

“I feel a sense of urgency,” Luna expressed. “I have lost a lot of my control over the dream realm. I am eager to reestablish that control, even if it isn’t my own. I do not want Nightmare Moon in control any longer. I want this union between us. I want you strong. I want you able to fight again. I want us to fight together. And to be honest, I want to see what you can do now that you do not have a physical form holding you back. Your power and ability seem only limited by the darkness you can draw upon around you.” 

“I am rooted in the dark,” Rookwood whispered. “Death tells me that there may come a day that I will walk in the sunlit lands, and I will bring the darkness with me.” 

Luna shivered. 

“I want to see the sun again,” Violet said, not opening her eyes. “I just want to be warm.” 

“I will be your sun,” Celestia promised, kissing the foal’s head softly. “And should anything ever bring harm to you, Death will be the least of their worries.” 
	
	
	 
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 24
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Luna yawned. 

Luna’s anticipation was becoming an almost physical thing. It gnawed at her constantly, keeping her from sleep, distracting her from her duties, and made her squirm like a filly. Her behaviour was driving her sister Celestia to distraction. 

“These announcements… are making me crazy!” exclaimed Celestia. 

Luna was too busy staring at the seamstress making adjustments for her rounded belly to pay attention to her sister. She was humming to herself, her eyes half closed, and her ears drooped from her drowsy state. 

“I am not even sure how to announce Rookwood’s peerage,” huffed Celestia. “Down there most of the time the word ‘Lord’ means one bound to service or a slave. Even the Reaper of Ponies is a slave to Thanatos, who in turn is in turn a slave to the draconequus known as Hades. It is so confusing! I just cannot figure out the right wording. Soon to be Lord of Nightmares? What do I do? I cannot stand nobility at times. I  cannot figure out where Rookwood sits on the food chain!” 

“Rookwood is a Reaper now. I’d say he was the final link on the food chain,” Luna muttered, half awake, almost chuckling from her sister’s words. “Sovereign of Shadow. He hasn’t earned the title Lord of Nightmares yet, but he will. Death’s Left Hoof.” 

Luna’s seamstress shuddered visibly and all of the pins she held in her lips fell to the ground. “Begging your pardon, but this sounds like gruesome business,” the old unicorn said, shuddering once again, this time causing the measuring tape around her neck to slip off. 

“Rookwood is in the gruesome business,” Luna commented. 

“Sovereign of Shadow, Death’s Left Hoof, Little Luna’s Love Lagomorph?” Celestia asked. 

“Oh, hey, the last one is catchy, let us go with that one sister. I want it centered and bolded upon the announcements,” Luna replied. “Should be a ‘lusty’ somewhere in the last title.” 

Celestia flung her pile of notes into the air with her magic in exasperation as the seamstress was trying to pick up her fallen pins and measuring tape. 

The seamstress tittered, causing Celestia to raise an eyebrow. 

“Maybe I should just elope to Las Pegasus,” muttered Luna. 

“You would not dare…” said Celestia with an angry glare. “You would break Violet’s heart.” 

Celestia’s words seized Luna’s attention, causing her to lift her head and open her eyes wider. Her tail swished, the ethereal mass waving strangely.

“You never play fair sister,” Luna complained. 

“I play to win,” Celestia said smugly. 



 

“Cadance?” 

Cadance suffered a terrible feeling of disorientation. She wasn’t Cadance at the moment. She was something… else. Small. Pink. Fluffy. 

Cadance realised she was a rabbit. 

“Cadance, you said I could talk to you any time, I need to talk to you know if I could,” Rookwood pleaded. 

“Why am I a bunny?” asked Cadance. 

“This is a dream. It is the only way I could reach you,” Rookwood replied. 

“Oh, well then, how are you Rookwood?” asked Cadance. 

“Dead,” said Rookwood dryly. “Would you feel more comfortable with Shining Armor here? I could bring him in for you.” 

A purple raven cawed riotously and bounced to and fro on a tree branch overhead. 

“That might be nice. I’d like to see Shiny as a bunny,” Cadance replied. 

A few seconds later, a white rabbit popped into existence, looking very surprised. 

“Hi Shining!” squealed Cadance. 

“This has to be a dream,” Shining Armor said, studying his rabbit form. “I seem to be a bunny. A bunny. I am a bunny.”  

“It is,” replied Rookwood. “You are.” 

“Rookwood?” asked Shining Armor. 

“Yes honey, it is Rookwood,” Cadance explained. 

“How have you been Rookwood? Celestia and Twilight have told me a little,” Shining asked. 

“Dead,” Rookwood said again. “Look, Cadance, I really need to talk to you if that is alright. I don’t have long. I have to go help the Reaper of Dragons and the Reaper of Zebras later. We have a big job, and I cannot afford to be distracted and have my will split in several places at once.” 

Cadance nodded. “While I really want to ask questions about everything you just said, we can talk later,” Cadance said. “What is troubling you?” 

“I cannot leave it be, I have to know why the Reaper of Dragons and the Reaper of Zebras would be working together and why they would need you?” asked Shining Armor. 

“There is a dragon scheduled to kill a whole bunch of zebras later. He is going to be greedy and try to swallow several zebras at once. He is going to choke to death,” explained Rookwood. 

“Oh, that’s horrible!” exclaimed Cadance. 

“I see stuff like this every day now,” replied Rookwood as he shrugged, seemingly unbothered. “Cadance, I am scared. I am so in love. It is eating at my insides. Well, I don’t have insides any more, but you get the point. I’m so afraid of letting Luna down. I’m not solid. I’m having trouble appearing in the world of the living. She’s suffered so much. I want her wedding to be happy.” 

“If Luna wasn’t happy she wouldn’t continue with this course of action,” Cadance said. “Luna is strong willed and stubborn. She’s had a very rough life and experienced a great deal of hardship. She would not endure this if it wasn’t something she wanted.” 

“I just want her to be happy. And safe. Free from her curse,” Rookwood said in a soft low voice. “I’ve already proven that I will do anything towards that end. Even if it means not marrying her.” 

“Have you lost your mind?” asked Shining angrily. “What are you saying? What are you thinking?” 

“I am thinking she needs somepony to make her happy. Somepony living perhaps.” Rookwood explained. 

“You, you shut up right now. She’s suffered enough. All of this would be for naught if you backed out now. It is just cold hooves. Well, in your case, dead hooves maybe, or you may not even have hooves, but that isn’t the point. Luna would be crushed if she lost you a second time,” snapped Shining Armor. He stomped his large hind bunny paw in annoyance. 

“Shining is right,” Cadance urged gently. “It is just cold hooves. You feel diminished and powerless due to circumstances. But that will change, I am sure of it. You are still a fit mate for Luna. You're dead and, well, she’s spooky and that is the worst that I will say about my aunt.”

“Luna is morbid. I’ve seen her book collection,” Shining said, nodding. “She’s got this whole queen of the damned thing going on already.” 

“If she marries me, one day she may very well be,” Rookwood whispered, his bunny nose twitching nervously.  

“Luna would only see that as an advantage, a source of pride,” said Cadance. 

Rookwood took a deep shuddering breath, his little bunny sides expanding. 

“This is really nightmarish,” Shining complimented. “The pastoral setting is bone chilling.” 

The purple raven overhead cackled madly at this, cawing incessantly and dancing around on its branch, wings flapping. 

“I could show you the pits where my soul was flayed open and laid bare by tormentors,” Rookwood said cheerfully. “But it would cost you several years of your life. And they would be years you would miss. I don’t subtract from the end like other Reapers. I go right from the middle. Hades says I am a right bastard.” 

“And this is why you were made for Luna,” Cadance squeaked, shuddering. 

“When you finally have Nightmare Moon, the consequences will be dire… I cannot imagine what is going to be done for her. I don’t understand though. Why don’t the Lords of Tartarus just come and collect her for her crimes?” asked Shining. 

“Because the nightmares must continue,” Rookwood replied, his voice suddenly oddly authoritative. “And until a replacement is found, she must continue her work. To replace her, I must tear her mantle away from her. In time, I will. But the nightmares must not be interrupted.” 

For a moment, as Rookwood spoke, his form shifted and shimmered, becoming a skeletal rabbit shrouded in a black cloak, his buck teeth looking wickedly sharp. And then, as quickly as he shifted, he was normal again, his usual avocado green bunny self. 

The change had not gone unnoticed by Shining Armor or Cadance. 





“Sister, I must ask, how is your wound? I know you keep it bandaged and hidden under your regalia,” Luna inquired, her voice velvety with concern. 

“It isn’t healing with magic, it is going to have to heal in time. It burned inward to the bone. I will recover. I’ve had worse done to the outside,” said Celestia. “But the inside is a different story. When he had his hoof pressed into my chest, I had to relive every awful thing I’ve ever done or allowed to happen. And so much of it was about you.” 

Luna nodded, unable to reply. 

“I saw some of the things you had to endure. Things I forced you into. Things I know are forgiven between us, but Death made me relive them anyway. And the wounds inside are raw,” Celestia added. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of.” 

“We both have,” replied Luna. 

“I’ve done things I knew were horribly wrong but I did them anyway because I believed I was doing them for the right reasons and that somehow, I would be exempted from them because of what I was and that I had to be right,” Celestia confessed. 

“I’ve done much the same,” Luna admitted. 

“The regrets of immortals,” Celestia sighed. 

“This castle is becoming crowded,” Luna added. 

“I want this castle crowded. I miss Cadance so much. But she had things to do. And Twilight left. She’s gone on to greater things.” 

“And now you have Violet,” Luna said in consoling tones. “And there is Rookwood, who will be here time and situation permitting.” 

“We’ll be a family,” Celestia said, nodding. 

“Canterlot is becoming its own place of the pantheon,” said Luna. 

“Hardly the place of nightmares Luna, you’ll need a big black fortress of some sort,” Celestia replied, smiling faintly. 

“Oh, I don’t know, this place is nightmarish. Pastels everywhere, soft white colours, pinks, golds, all of it quite garish and horrific,” Luna teased. 

Celestia raised her eyebrow and glared at her sister balefully.





“I am impressed by you Rookwood, I must confess.” 

Rookwood bowed his head slightly and looked at Hades, the Master of the Dead. The draconequus was over a hundred feet long and made of mismatched bones. 

“I have done this job longer than most of the current immortals alive today have been alive. I have been here since the beginning,” Hades said in an oddly soft voice. “I was not always Master of the Dead though.” 

Rookwood bowed slightly, lowering his head once again. 

“Stop that!” grunted Hades. “Can’t I just have one conversation without all this bowing and scraping! Buggery of the damned!” 

“If you desire to bugger the damned, it is certainly your place to do so, sir,” Rookwood said in a shaky voice. “I prefer the living, but as they say down in the black depths where the necrophiliacs are tormented, there is no harm in cracking open a cold one.”

Hades moved with supernatural speed and snatched Rookwood up in his skeletal claws. He stood, bipedal, glaring down at the tiny pony in his fist. Two blue flames burned in his eye sockets. 

“A COMEDIAN!” Hades boomed. “They always come here and discover being a bonepile isn’t very funny. And the punishers and the tormentors have no sense of humour.” 

Hades held Rookwood up to his skeletal snoot, studying him. 

“I bet you think you’re clever,” Hades said in a low whisper. 

Rookwood gulped. “I was so clever that my life was a joke, my death was my punchline, and then I wound up here…” Rookwood confessed, his voice trailing off. 

Hades continued to study the little green pony clenched in his fist. His bones began to shake. And then, a horrible sound filled Tartarus, booming through the vast depths, scaring every damned soul in the realm, frightening the punishers, even scaring the tormentors, making them cower in the black depths where they dwelled amongst the most reviled of the damned.

Hades was laughing! 

The massive dead draconequus shook violently, his bones rattling and clattering. He clutched Rookwood in one fist, and pounded the ground with the other. The sound was truly terrible, indescribable, and made Rookwood thankful he was dead, because surely, he would have gone mad from the sound had he still been living. 

Rookwood managed a weak laugh. 

“Oh pantheon damnit, you are a funny clever little pony. I’m keeping you,” Hades said. “I haven’t laughed like that for about six or seven thousand years.” 

“I am already yours you rotten old coot, or have you already forgotten?” Rookwood replied. 

Hades howled. 

It was even more terrifying than his laughter. 

Hades fell over on his back, his bones rattling and making a cacophony of sound, sounds so indescribably horrific that a new torment was created to commemorate the occasion, which was to play the sound on a loop in Tartarus’ waiting rooms. Still he clutched Rookwood in his fist, eyeing the little pony, hopeful, waiting for Rookwood to say something else. 

Tartarus had just become a little bit worse, and Rookwood was responsible. 
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 25 (Warning, slightly icky, may leave behind sticky residue) 
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Celestia was being torn apart by worry but did not show it. The castle was full of guests. A surprising number of ponies had arrived. Twilight Sparkle and her friends were in attendance, Cadance and Shining Armor had arrived, and ponies from all over the empire had arrived to pay respects to the pony they had once attended the funeral of. Even Discord had arrived, with promises to be on his best behaviour. 

The papers called it the love story of the age. 

And indeed it seemed to be. The wedding had certainly attracted the romantics. The massive hall was flooded with artists, writers, musicians, creative and romantic sorts of all kinds. It was the social event of a lifetime. How many times can a pony say they attended the wedding of a pony they had first attended the funeral of? The hall was dimly lit. At midnight, when the wedding started, the lights would go out and only few candles here and there would be lit. 

The papers said that it was romance in the purest form, a conquering of the darkness. 

Celestia disagreed, but kept her opinions to herself. 

Spike paced near her, wearing a tuxedo and a little top hat. Violet was also near, walking around and around in circles, nervous and frightened of so many ponies. Spike had tried to hug the poor filly to make her feel better, but he had passed right through her, much to his dismay. 

“There are over two thousand ponies in attendance,” Twilight Sparkle said. “We are having to turn ponies away from the hall. We’ve set up a place in the royal gardens where the overflow can gather. Midnight approaches. Are you going to be alright Celestia?” 

“I am afraid Twilight,” Celestia confessed. “Marriages have always been bad for both Luna and I. I am having trouble with memories from the past, made fresh by the events in the present.” 

“We both know that this is a marriage of love. Nopony is being forced into anything. I know how hard it is letting go of the past, but you and your sister deserve to be happy. Try to relax and allow it to happen,” said Twilight. 

“Twilight Sparkle, sometimes I am not certain what I would do without you,” confessed Celestia, causing Twilight to blush. 



 

As the midnight hour approached, Celestia’s worries kept increasing. She was filled with anticipation, fear, and doubt. Violet stayed close to her heels, the little foal also frightened out of her mind. Less than an hour away and Luna would be married once again. Not for political gain, but for love. Celestia sighed deeply, taking a deep breath and trying to calm her frazzled nerves. 

And that was when she noticed the stench of decay.

The door opened and a guard in heavy armor appeared, his lips moving, but no words coming out of his mouth. The guard looked terrified. 

“What is it?” asked Celestia in soothing tones, feeling the fear rising in her breast. 

“We have unannounced guests your Majesty. I- I, uh, well, I could not turn them away. They demand to see you at once, as is proper. They do not feel they have been given a proper greeting,” the guard stammered terribly as he spoke, his eyes wide and nostrils flaring. 

Celestia pushed through the door and trotted into the greeting hall, the stench of decay becoming almost overpowering. 

And then, she saw them. 

All of them.

There was an enormous rotting draconequus coming to greet her, his form much smaller than Celestia remembered, probably to allow him to fit into this small space better, dribbling bits of decay as he wiggled forward. 

“Greetings!" boomed Hades. “I had to drag out the old meat suit. Hasn’t seen use in a while. Seemed appropriate to dress up for the wedding. I think my suit has a few wrinkles though.” 

Celestia fought back the powerful urge to gag. The stench was almost overpowering. Her horn flared golden light as she forced open every window she could in the massive hall where the wedding was to take place. 

Luna appeared beside Celestia, bowing slightly, smiling broadly at Hades. 

Other Reapers began to crowd around the two alicorns, all of them rotten and horrifying, all of them wearing their ‘best meat suits’ for the occasion. 

“The bride is jaw dropping,” the Reaper of Griffons said, handing a fallen jawbone back to the Reaper of Zebras. 

The Accuser and the Defender stood close by, each of them in a different body, two ponies of one mind, both of them rotten and dripping maggots. 

“You have something in your nose,” the Accuser said to the Defender. 

The Defender looked down, crossing his rotten milky eyes, and saw a long corpse worm dangling from his rancid nostril. He snorted and snorked, sucking the worm into his nostril and making it vanish. 

Celestia suddenly felt very ill. 

“I am so glad you could make it,” said Luna graciously. “Even if you are unannounced.” 

“Don’t worry, we are just here for the cake,” the Reaper of Dragons said, his body also shrunk down to fit indoors. 

“We shall try to find you appropriate seating,” offered Luna. “And I must go. I must get dressed. We start soon!” she squealed excitedly as she turned and left. 

“It isn’t very often we get to attend a wedding. Usually, we attend funerals,” sniggered Hades. 

“Spike, please help these visitors find a seat. Move other ponies around if you must. Hurry, we are to begin soon!” commanded Celestia. 



 

Prince Blueblood found himself in a very uncomfortable position. On either side of him sat ponies, terrible ponies, ponies who smelled bad. Ponies that were dead. Blueblood was absolutely paralysed with fear. 

“Say, nice suit,” the Accuser said, trying to make idle chit chat. “I really like your suit.” 

“Uh, thank you, I will pass your praise on to my tailor,” Blueblood choked out in a pained whisper, his voice barely audible. 

“No, I didn’t mean your clothes,” the Defender explained. “Your suit. I lost my suit a long time ago, I had to borrow the one I am wearing right now from some poor damned soul.” 

“Borrow is such a misleading word,” the Accuser said in accusatory tones. “These suits were freshly flayed from the bodies of the damned. We had so little to work with on short notice.” 

Blueblood whimpered, feeling his blood run cold. 

“You know Blueblood, you really should think about some of your life choices a little more,” the Accuser said in a low chilling voice. “Otherwise, there may come a time when I borrow your suit and go for a nice night out.” 

Blueblood crossed his legs and tried to not piss himself.

“Continue going to the spa daily and please, keep pampering your self. Your regimen of self indulgence really does keep your flesh very presentable. Shame there is only one of you. The Accuser and I shall have to flip a coin,” the Defender said in casual cheerful tones. 

Blueblood began to cry a little, shivering, his body wracked with painful fear, some of it from the dreadful words spoken, some of it from the dreadful aura of fear that the Reaper produced. 

The Defender and the Accuser allowed their auras to extend only a tiny bit, just enough to scare one snobby prince nearly to death. 





“You are the last one, you know that?” asked Hades. “After I claim you, I can retire as the Reaper of Draconequuskind. I’ve been looking forward to retirement for a long time.” 

Discord gulped. “You don’t say,” said Discord in a trembling voice. 

“I’m tired of this job. It is boring. Being a draconequus, you know how painful being bored can be, so I know you have sympathy for my position, right?” queried Hades. 

Discord nodded slowly, his eyes wide with fear. 

“So I have a proposal. How about we reach a professional agreement as fellow pantheon members and make things interesting… it could be like a game. Only if I tag you, you die!” exclaimed Hades, chortling as he did so. 

Discord gave a dry chuckle, but didn’t find this funny in the slightest. He responded only out of professional courtesy, and a desire to keep living. 

“Always so funny Hades,” muttered Discord. 

“Rookwood has awakened my sense of humour. I think it was hibernating. While the other Reapers plan to add him to their mantles, I plan to use him to replace my funny bone,” Hades said, guffawing at his own joke. 

Discord felt the sudden urge to go to the little draconequus room, something he hadn’t felt for centuries. Draconequus humour involved pranks… usually awful pranks. And Hades was old, and he knew all of the pranks worth knowing. Discord suddenly felt very small and insecure. He made a mental note to plead to Celestia to make him a statue once again when the wedding was over. 

“The bride is beautiful, isn’t she?” Hades asked. 

Discord nodded, not once looking at Luna, who stood on the podium, wearing a simple black gown with a long train. It accented her rounded belly rather than hide it. She wore a crown woven from white roses. 

Hades leaned on his fellow draconequus and grinned. “It isn’t too late to do a little good in the world old boy. I’d spend some time thinking about that while you have a chance,” whispered Hades. “Do you know how long you will be sitting as a bonepile?” 

Discord trembled and gulped loudly. 



 

The ponies in the hall were almost in a panic. The dead walked among them, quite literally, and yet no pony dared to leave the hall. This was a historic event, it would be a story to tell foals and grandfoals, guaranteed bragging rights, the ability to say “I was there.” 

The stench of death permeated the hall and fear filled the room, inspite of this, the mood somehow remained festive. It really was the social event of the century, so much of the pantheon gathered into one space. 

The Reaper of Minotaurs was regaling the guests around him with a thrilling tale about how he had risen to his position during the dreadful war between the minotaurs and the war pigs. They listened, horrified but attentive, hanging on his every word as though their lives depended on it. 

The Reaper of Griffons was sitting near the Reaper of Zebras, giving her undead love absolutely dreadful predatory looks. Their relationship was the current gossip of the denizens of Tartarus. Word had it that they played with each others’ bones on a regular basis. 

Gossip was a vile sin, and had its own punishment, the tormentors using the tongues of gossipers as toilet tissue, and then returning them to their owners, not gently, and somewhat soiled. 

In was in this festive atmosphere, minutes before the wedding was to actually begin, that the room suddenly went dark.

A faint light shone from Luna’s backside through her gown, but it was not enough to illuminate the room. 

Celestia could hear it… smell it… feel it in the air. Panic. It was throbbing through the room right now, any second, there would be a stampede as the ponies panicked. She tried to use her magic, and could not not do so. 

“NOPONY PANIC!” shouted Hades. “Now which one of you undead sons of whores snuffed the candles using shadow? I know one of you did it! What a lousy prank… at a wedding no less,” Hades said, muttering in the dark. “Shame on you!” grunted Hades. 

In the dark, a single mare screamed a blood curdling scream. 

“Damnit, Accuser, Defender, stop trying to scare Blueblood to death!” Hades bellowed in the dark, his voice echoing through the room. 

“Blueblood seemed frightened, we placed our legs around his shoulders to comfort him,” said two voices in unison, hissing eerily in the dark. “He passed out. I don’t think we comforted him in time.” 

Celestia could hear Violet. who was near her hooves, giggling madly, the little undead foal making wet gurgling noises as she did so. 

There was a shuffle as something moved through the darkness, making obscene squelching and squishing noises. There was the sounds of slapping flapping flesh, a few heavy thuds, a grunt from Hades, and then Celestia saw it. 

A faint blue glow. 

A single candle flared to life, and Celestia could see Hades’ face was missing one of his milky white rotten eyeballs. Blue flames blazed in his gaping eye socket, illuminated by the candle, which Hades had just lit by jamming it into his eye socket and using his own infernal fires to light the wick. 

Celestia was far too afraid to be able to light the candles when the darkness had fallen, but the restoration of one single candle had restored some of her nerve. She began to relight the candles. Celestia gnawed her tongue, trying not to scream. 

As the candles offered up feeble light, Celestia saw a translucent figure on the podium near Luna, Rookwood stood smiling, his grin quite visible, white teeth reflecting in the faint light. Luna had lost her composure and was practically dancing in place, her hooves clattering on the stone floor, filling the hall with sound. 

“Rookwood, you horrible thrice damned bastard, did you just do that?” questioned Hades, his tone demanding an answer. 

“No,” replied Rookwood in sepulchral tones. 

“I did it,” confessed Luna. “I felt Rookwood near and he was struggling. The darkness, however brief, gave him strength enough to project himself.” 

“Well, I can’t fault you for that,” said Hades, still holding his candle, his empty eye socket glowing with a blue blaze. “But you are indirectly responsible for Blueblood soiling himself and ruining the Reaper of Ponies suits. For shame! Do you know how much trouble they had to go through to get those suits for this night?” 

Luna began to chuckle at the mad spectacle, and Celestia realised that she and her sister were really very different. Celestia was ready to faint from fear and tension, and Luna was chuckling and seemed to be enjoying herself. 

Celestia felt a brief feeling of thankfulness. 

Cadance stood on the podium, Shining Armor nearby, smiling weakly, nodding, letting everypony know that it was now midnight. Twilight Sparkle sat in the front row with her friends, all of them terrified and clinging to one another, except Pinkie Pie, who was giggling, tittering and having the time of her life. 

“The highest authority in the room should officiate this,” announced Hades. “Wait, that’s me! Damnit!” 

The undead draconequus began to waddle towards the podium, still carrying his candle, his rotten flesh making terrible sounds as he moved. There was a dreadful tearing and ripping sound. 

“You dropped your tail!” said Pinkie Pie cheerfully to Hades. 

Hades turned around an groaned. He snapped his claws and the rotten lump he had left behind re-attached itself to his backside with a wet slurping sound that echoed grotesquely through the hall. He continued his horrible march up to the podium, each step sounding as though he had stomped upon a pathway paved in whoopee cushions. 

He patted Celestia gently as he passed, as she stood at the base of the steps leading up to the podium. At his touch, much of Celestia’s fear vanished, and she felt better. She also felt soiled and dirty. The damned offered no comfort without price. 

“I am positive everypony had a lovely speech prepared and there was going to be some pompous decrees and a great deal of public spectacle. Well, bugger that!” exclaimed Hades. 

Luna cleared her throat and shot a glance at her sister, smiling. 

Celestia scowled as she realised the lines she had so carefully written for her sister would go unannounced. The Lords of Tartarus just had to show up… Celestia mounted the platform and stood next to her sister, touching her briefly with a wing. Violet had followed her and stood near her hooves, her little wings flapping with excitement. 

“Let us get this over with. My meat suit is itchy and I want to go home and get undressed,” grumbled Hades. “Ready?” 

Rookwood and Luna nodded. 

“You, Luna, Princess of the Night, Summoner of Shadow, Guardian of Morality in the Dreaming Realms, will you accept this thrice damned soul into eternal bondage?” asked Hades. “There is no death for either of you, so the usual lines seem inappropriate,” explained Hades. 

“I do,” said Luna, nodding as she did so.

“And you, Rookwood, you of the thrice damned soul, Apprentice Reaper, Protector of Violet, Sovereign of Shadow, Lord of Psychopomps, will you allow yourself into eternal bondage with this beautiful creature that you willingly gave your living body for?” questioned Hades. “Understand, this is permanent and binding so ponder this before you answer,” warned Hades. 

“I accept,” answered Rookwood, bowing his head low, not waiting a second to answer. 

“Well then, our houses have united. Welcome to a new eternity of suffering that even Tartarus cannot match, the institution known as marriage. Kiss one another, do whatever messy flesh slapping rituals you kids are into these days,” said Hades. 

Luna waited as Rookwood struggled to take form, several minutes passing. 

“I’m trying,” said Rookwood, his voice low. 

“Oh pantheon damnit, this isn’t right. A pony should be able to kiss his wife on their wedding day,” bellowed Hades, snapping his claws.

Rookwood was suddenly solid, covered in rotten weeping flesh, a large patch of skin breaking free from his side, sliding off with a sickening squelch, and then splattering to the floor. 

“Ugh, well, buggery of the damned,” mumbled Hades, snapping his claws again. 

Rookwood was now a skeletal pony, shrouded in a black cloak. He stood there, blue flames blazing brightly in his eye sockets. 

“I assure you, the bones are mostly sanitary, dry, and smooth. Quite kissable!” To illustrate his point, Hades planted a wet kiss on Rookwood’s skull, leaving behind a terrible mess. “Damnit!” shouted Hades, looking at smeared remains of a rotten gooshy greasy kiss on Rookwood’s skull. Hades took Rookwood’s cloak and carefully cleaned Rookwood’s skull off, cleaning away the offensive gunk left behind by the rotten lips of the undead draconequus. 

Luna giggled, Violet now at her hooves, who was also giggling. 

Luna carefully leaned forward and planted a kiss on Rookwood’s nasal ridge, causing a flash of blue light to appear and nearly blind everypony in the hall. 

“No reason to panic, that was just two souls being bound together for all eternity in mutual love. We wanted to see that, trust me, if it hadn’t happened, that would have meant that one of them or both of them had reservations, and that would mean their heart wasn’t totally into this,” explained Hades. He stood bipedally, looking somewhat angry. “Know this, what I have joined together, will stay together. Tamper with it at your own peril. Disturb it at your own caution. Try to bring damage to this union, and you will suffer the wrath of Tartarus,” Hades said, his words ringing through the hall. “I will open the gates.” threatened Hades. 

His words and meaning were clear. A silence filled the hall. 

Hades reached out and tapped Rookwood with his claw, making clicking sounds on Rookwood’s bones. Hades smiled. “Keep this for the night,” whispered Hades. “It isn’t much, but it will allow you to be here,” said Hades. Hades lifted his head and looked at his fellow undead co-conspirators. “We have business elsewhere!” bellowed Hades, his voice booming. 

Hades snapped his claw and the Reapers in the room vanished, allowing the living to finally heave a massive sigh of relief and begin to really enjoy themselves. The room was now brightly lit, the magical globes of light now at full illumination, and Rookwood did not vanish. 

“Come, dance with me!” begged Luna, giving herself over to celebration. 

Celestia was glad that most of the dead were gone. She smiled down at Violet, who stood beaming beside her parents. 

There were still many hours before dawn. 
	
	
	

	
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 26
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Luna sat in a cushioned chair, studying Rookwood, who was literally resting his bones. They had danced, spent time together, talked, he had been able to touch her, and even if he was currently without flesh, Luna wanted to be touched. Consummation of the marriage would have to wait, but this was enough. 

Oddly enough, Luna still found Rookwood attractive. 

He was also resting in a chair, bits of ivory bone peeking out from under his black mantle, blue flames burning infernally in his eye sockets. Rookwood had a fabulous bone structure. 

Luna sipped from her punch cup, delighting in the burn. The punch was marvelous, and she had spiked it herself, loading it with enough potent alcohol to even get an alicorn buzzed. Luna was determined to have a good time, no matter the cost. There had been to much heartache lately, to much darkness. 

“I feel dead tired,” Rookwood confessed in sarcastic tones. “Having to lug around a body, any body, even this body, is tiring,” he added. 

“You are terrible,” Luna mused, smiling as she drank more punch. 

“I’m not the one committing necrophilia,” teased Rookwood. 

Luna’s eyes flew open and she sprayed punch everywhere, gasping and sputtering in shock. It took her several moments to collect herself, to find her breath again, her blood running hotly through her body. She could hear Rookwood chortling. She began laughing herself, whooping and guffawing at the revelation of what she had committed herself to. 

For the moment, they were alone together, in a sea of ponies. All around them were celebrating ponies, celebrating life after the gruesome spectacle witnessed earlier. Rookwood and Luna had found a relatively quiet corner, and Rookwood had subtly increased his aura of fear to discourage other ponies from bothering them. 

The unintended consequence of this was that it was causing Luna a great deal of arousal. 

“Enjoy this time while you can Luna, things are going to change soon. I gain strength rapidly, eventually, I must begin my duties,” urged Rookwood. 

“We shall smite our enemies together. I look forward to rooting them out. Even with things being the way they are right now, I feel hope for the future. Thank you beloved, for your sacrifice. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough,” replied Luna, drinking more punch. 

“I am rather surprised that Hades allowed me to use this form,” said Rookwood. “This isn’t something I have earned yet.” 

“Given what I know about the Lords of Tartarus, it does seem odd, but Hades does genuinely seem to like you,” Luna answered. 

“Luna, this is a terrible thing to say, but I feel like I belong down there. I belong down there in a way that I never belonged anywhere in life. I am understood. I am respected. I am finally eager to learn something, I feel dedicated. I’ve found passion,” Rookwood said, his eye sockets blazing brighter as he spoke. 

“Destinies and cutie marks are funny things,” quipped Luna. “I suppose you were meant to take this course in, well, your afterlife.” 

“No Luna, you are wrong, this is my life. I came to that conclusion as I carried the souls of dead foals into the realms of Elysium and took comfort in knowing that they would never know suffering again. I delivered them from that. I carried them to a better place. It brought me peace,” Rookwood explained, his tone careful and patient. “Taking the pain from those foals who were violated on Hearth’s Warming was only the beginning, taking the pain from you showed me what I was truly capable of, but knowing that I ended pain forever was a relief to my soul. I remember them. All of them. Every soul of every foal I have claimed. They were confused, scared, wondering what had just happened. Lost. And they trusted me. I bid them to come with me, I pulled them within my essence, and I bled them of the pain they felt in life, in those final moments when the plague was eating them alive, and I took away every terrible memory of pain and placed it within my self. And I carried them, innocent of pain and suffering into the Green Fields of the beyond, unblemished,” Rookwood finished. 

“You mean you took their pain into you?” Luna asked. 

“The pain has to go somewhere. Pain simply does not disappear,” Rookwood answered. 

“That’s horrible,” whispered Luna. 

“It hurts, but there is something I take comfort in,” Rookwood replied. 

“And that is?” inquired Luna. 

“That when I meet a deserving and worthy soul, I get to pump all of this pain I have absorbed into them. It is known as the Reaper’s Consolation. I… I have felt it myself, Death did it to me, I had to know what it felt like so I would understand what it was that I did to others,” Rookwood said, his voice low and chilling. “His first use of it on me was to get me to let go of my love, so it could be examined. His second use of it was to illuminate me on my terms of service. I endured both times, never wavering in my course of action,” Rookwood added. 

Luna found she could say nothing, she could only look upon her love and be thankful that he was here with her. 



 

“I hate my meat suit. It itches. Feels all sticky and gross!” bellowed Hades, scratching his now bare bones. “Oh by the pantheon, living flesh is so disgusting, I don’t know how they wear that crap!” 

“They manage my Lord,” Thanatos replied. 

Hades turned to look at his second in command, the skeletal centaur known as Thanatos. Hades scratched his skull, his claws making sounds like fingernails being dragged down a chalkboard as he did so.

“So, how goes your mission into the outer realms? You missed a great wedding!” said Hades. 

“My Lord, it is my misfortune to report that some of the Lords do not support this course of action. They move in support of Nightmare Moon,” Thanatos said, bowing his upper torso slightly as he spoke. 

“So, it is to be war then,” muttered Hades. 

“Perhaps,” replied Thanatos. 

“Hasn’t been a war here for a long time,” Hades mentioned. “I do hope they will behave and keep this squabble out of the lands of the living.” 

“I have already begun preparations and have been trying to broker deals,” Thanatos said. 

Hades clacked his claws nervously upon the basalt stone floor, the bony links of his tail swishing with pent up frustration. He began to pace, prowling back and forth, occasionally looking at Thanatos, sometimes stopping to pause and think. 

“I would have thought we would have learned to put petty squabbles behind us after that last one,” Hades muttered. 

“New Lords have risen to power since that time,” replied Thanatos. 

“Bah, at least war is never boring! I’m sick of being bored,” exclaimed Hades. 



 

As dawn approached, a new visitor appeared in the great hall, causing quite a bit of distress with his sudden appearance. A skeletal figure, shrouded in black robes very much like Rookwoods, had appeared near where Luna and Rookwood were sitting, now resting after more dancing and a bit of socialisation. 

“Reaper of Donkeys, what brings you here? You missed the ceremony earlier,” said Rookwood. “Luna, this is Reaper of Donkeys, and I suppose he is a friend of mine, if in my position I can have friends,” exclaimed Rookwood, introducing his friend. 

Reaper of Donkeys bowed low, dropping to one bony skeletal knee, and then rose, blue fire flickering in his skull. “I apologize for failing to come earlier, I had pressing issues to attend to, and I continue those pressing issues even now. I have come with a proposition that I wish to discuss with you right away, so that I may go and discuss it with Hades as soon as possible.” the skeletal donkey said, his jawbone creaking as he spoke. “Luna, the pleasure of meeting you is all mine, I’ll spare you base flattery so I don’t make myself a jackass…” the skeletal donkey’s skull seemed to be almost smiling. 

“All of you have terrible senses of humour,” mused Luna. 

“We’re all damned, most of us likely for our humour,” replied the Reaper of Donkeys. 

The crowd had retreated far, far away from the two reapers. It was late, almost dawn, and many of them suddenly found the need to go home and go to bed. 

“And this cannot wait?” asked Rookwood. 

“You and I both know our common enemy does not take time for celebration, but instead spends every moment preparing for the coming conflict,” replied the Reaper of Donkeys. 

Rookwood sighed. 

“And this is for both of your benefits,” added the Reaper of Donkeys. 

“Well then, speak,” commanded Luna. 

“It is my intention to go to Hades and make a proposal for a new type of Reaper. I am going to suggest Rookwood for the position. I’ve been speaking with the Reaper of Griffons a great deal about all of the dead foals because of the plague, and how much Rookwood has been able to comfort them. Rookwood also has experience as Wookwood, from your tutelage in dreams Luna, which places him in an unusual position. There is also the matter of his love, a vital part of his own essence, something which has been stripped away from the rest of us. He can comfort foals in a way that none of us can. I plan to propose a Reaper of Lost Foals, and have Rookwood take up the mantle, if Hades will allow it. Hades has been acting weird lately. Rookwood seems to have set him off,” the Reaper of Donkeys said, never once needing to draw breath, his words unbroken by mortal need. 

“Rookwood, you should consider this, it must be so difficult to be a foal of any species and die. Think of your own experiences with Violet,” said Luna. 

“Rookwood’s experience with Violet is unique. I’ve spoken at length with my fellow Reapers. None of us had any idea that such a magic existed that would allow, well, the horrible events that happened to happen. Trust me, all of us as Reapers know suffering, it is what we are made out of, but all of us felt something when we learned of the events that took place and the magic that allowed it to happen. Hades gave the Accuser and the Defender free reign to deal with those horrible events however he saw fit. Because of those events, Rookwood was spared the Year of Lamentations that most of us who are bound in service in some way must undergo. It takes a lot to make a Reaper pause and reflect,” said the Reaper of Donkeys. 

“And Rookwood drew strength from it,” replied Luna proudly. 

“Which is why he should be the Reaper of Lost Foals. Those lost must be brought back into the fold and comforted. They cannot go into the Endless Pastures knowing pain and suffering,” said the Reaper of Donkeys. 

“Dawn approaches,” announced Rookwood. “Luna, I love you, I had a wonderful night. I shall return as soon as I am able, and I will visit you in dreams,” promised Rookwood. 

Luna kissed Rookwood on the skull and pressed her body alongside his, leaning on him. 

The three of them awaited dawn together, pondering the future. 



 

The guests were gone. The sun had risen. Violet had vanished. And Celestia pondered the condition of the massive hall. Rotten bits of flesh remained on the floor. There were still maggots strewn about from one end of the hall to the other, and much of the mess had been ground underhoof. The stench of death lingered on. The hot sweaty smell of fear also hung in the air, no doubt permeated into the walls. 

In all of the history of Equestria, there had never been a wedding like this. The seeds of myth and legends had been planted and Celestia knew that she would live to see them grow. 

Inspite of all the horror, the weirdness, Celestia had to admit that she was happy about it all. Luna was finally happy and had found worthy company, she would never find the nights lonely again. The Lords of Tartarus seemed friendlier, a blessing really, given how things had been in the past. Her little ponies had their public spectacle, something they loved dearly, being the gregarious social creatures that they were. Nothing too terrible had happened, Blueblood soiling himself was quite possibly the nicest gift the Lords of Tartarus could leave behind for her as a hostess. 

Discord had been acting strange as well, spending his time apologising to ponies for his pranks, and Discord had even made a heartfelt apology to Celestia, asking to be forgiven for a long incredibly detailed list of things. 

The only disconcerting thing that really bothered Celestia was that Hades seemed to be snapped out of his funk. The undead draconequus had seemed unusually animated. 

Hades was the most troublesome troublemaker in existence, and Celestia knew him a little too well. 
	
	
> Chapter 27
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	A unicorn stood chained to a pillar, his eyes wide with terror, his body paralysed with fear and magic. Not that his body was real, he was dead. His body was merely a representation of what he once was, a unicorn, and a means for him to be tormented during his long and uncomfortable afterlife. 

Rookwood allowed his shadow tendrils to travel deeper up the unicorn’s nostrils, causing a piercing shriek to come out of the unicorn’s gibbering lips. 

“I want to know more,” said Rookwood, his voice utterly devoid of emotion. “I already know more, but I want to hear you say it,” Rookwood demanded. 

“We can make this feel like it will go on forever,” said Violet, peering up at her murderer and rapist. “I really wouldn’t mind if it went on forever. No amount of pain you suffer will ever compare to what you took from me,” the small undead foal said, her one good eye filled with an unspoken furious rage. 

“Well, I do not know, and I want to know,” Luna demanded, her voice every bit as cold as Rookwood’s. “Tartarus might be an odd place to honeymoon, but I am beginning to see the appeal. Rookwood, be a dear and make him think about what he’s done,” commanded Luna. 

A tendril moved, snaking its way in between an eyeball and an eyelid… 

The unicorn made new and interesting sounds that were beyond Luna’s abilities to describe. Her face was cold and angry, her eyes were narrowed and fierce. 

Rookwood relaxed his will, allowing the unicorn a moment of respite. 

“There were six of us. Six of us in total. We did the ritual. We all took part in some way. I provided Violet and I corrupted her to make her a fitting sacrifice, and I am so, so sorry…” the unicorn whimpered. 

“I do not yet believe you,” replied Rookwood callously. He flexed his will briefly, letting the unicorn know exactly what he thought about the unicorn’s apology. 

“RAAAAAAAAAuuuuuurgh… oh please, I’ll tell you everything… The unicorn that calls himself Gibbous Moon did the research. He found the old book. He found the tomb. He… uh, he traveled across the sea to the old pony lands and found the tomb and there was a book and he was the only one who could read it, Nightmare Moon taught him how to read the old language in dreams. She favoured him,” the unicorn sobbed, his eyes pleading with Rookwood to make the torment end. 

“So there are five ponies left to hunt down and then drag to Tartarus,” commented Luna, looking thoughtful. 

“There is also Harvest Moon…” the unicorn offered helpfully. “He’s a lunar pegasus who is cursed with sanguine shadow, he provided the shadow essence needed for the ceremony. He comes from the land by the southern ice shelf.” 

“A vampire,” mused Luna. 

“Yes,” the unicorn said, trembling. 

Rookwood’s tendrils lazily began to dance along the unicorn’s back, splitting, forming new tendrils, prowling along the surface of constructed flesh. The unicorn whimpered pitifully. 

“I’ve been cooperative,” the unicorn pleaded. 

“I know,” said Rookwood, as his tendrils viciously sank in under the flesh of the chained unicorn and began to slither around under the surface of the unicorn’s flesh. After a few moments of squirming around under the skin, the tendrils jerked and a large section of skin slowly began to be peeled away, revealing muscle and fat below. “I’m sure that Violet tried to cooperate with you as well,” said Rookwood, his voice lacking any sense of regard. 

The unicorn’s screams filled the cavern, echoing off of the basalt walls. 

New tendrils formed, shadow behaving so much like a hydra, and began to make their way along the unicorn’s hindquarters. The screams became piercing as the first tendril found its way into the unicorn’s clenching anus. Rookwood probed, not delicately, forcing other tendrils in, as he continued to peel skin from the unicorn’s back. 

“How does it feel?” asked Violet, blinking slowly, watching with a great deal of fascination, her little wings fluttering with unbridled excitement. 

Rookwood’s shadow essence gave a yank and several feet of intestine were pulled from the unicorn’s backside. The unicorn fell, hanging from his chains, screaming and sobbing, his eyes wide with pain and terror, his whole body convulsing. More skin slowly tore free from the unicorn’s back. 

“I am no tormentor, but Hades insists that I am gifted,” Rookwood announced, a faint hint of pride present in his voice, the only emotion he had really shown so far. 

“CRESCENT MOON!” the unicorn screamed. “Founder of the horn of Nightmare Moon, from her first host body. He took it from the zebras…” The unicorn panted, his barrel heaving, and then began to scream again as more intestinal length was pulled, not gently, from his backside. A large section of skin tore free and was carelessly thrown down to the stone floor. 

Rookwood’s tendrils began to creep and crawl over the unicorn’s scrotum, slowly, edging over the cold lifeless flesh, flesh that was no more than the common clay of Tartarus, a means to an end, a means to cause pain and torment. The tendrils began to snake around the unicorn’s sheath. 

“Lenton Moon, Lenton Moon found the Temple of Nightmare Moon, in the Endless Rot, the swamps far to the east of the Forevergreen jungles where the dragons live,” 

The tendrils continued their teasing, one of them finding an opening to wiggle inside of. 

“Long Night Moon, who keeps the cultists under control…. no no NO!” The unicorn’s pleading cries turned to screams of anguish as his gentinals were slowly torn away from his body, like the tearing of paper, slowly and deliberately. They made a terrible wet ripping sound as they were torn away. 

“The best part is, all of this will grow back, and we will do this again,” promised Rookwood, smiling faintly. 

Violet nodded, her face full of satisfaction. 

Luna looked thoughtful, now having names to begin the hunt. A worldwide hunt. It was bound to be troubling and difficult. Luna was certain that her lunar pegasi were up for a worldwide tour however. Luna turned, hearing hooves clattering over stone, and saw a two headed skeletal pony trotting up beside them. 

“So this has become a family affair?” questioned Death, both voices in unison. 

“Yes,” answered Luna, looking at the skeletal pony, her bearing regal, her head high. 

Rookwood pulled in his shadow essence, then turned and regarded his master. 

“There has been much talk about the Reaper of Donkeys proposition,” said the Accuser. 

“Yes, very intriguing,” agreed the Defender. 

“He’s quite talented for being so new to the job, isn’t he? Death asked the unicorn, both voices filled with casual disinterest. Death turned his attention to Rookwood, something seemed amused in his bony faces. 

“Anyway, Hades has agreed to the Reaper of Donkeys proposition, but only on one condition. You are to hunt down at least one of Violet’s tormentors and return with them to Tartarus before you are given a your new title. You are going to have to be creative and clever. You may have help, but you are limited to whatever you can do in the realms of the living with your current abilities. After you receive your title,, it should be much easier to manifest physically in the realms of the living. You might even be able to bed your lovely bride and feel her warmth,” said Death, his tone enticing. 

Luna blushed and batted her eyelids in a heated manner. 

“It must be torment to know that down here you have flesh but that it is cold and lifeless,” Death said, both voices sounding genuinely sad. “Also, Rookwood, have your tendrils dig into the flesh and work their way into the hip sockets. Slowly popping them out is quite painful,” said Death, the Accuser once again looking at the whimpering unicorn, his face seeming somewhat annoyed. 

“Thank you Death, I shall take your wise words and thoughtful gift into consideration,” replied Rookwood, his tone reverent and respectful, almost as though he was speaking to a father. 

“Waxing Moon’s tormentors grow antsy, you’ve kept them from their task. I dare say one of them might be slightly peeved with you,” Death commented, sounding almost bored. 

Waxing Moon began to sob, his body now whole again, untouched and unblemished. Rookwood reached out and tickled Waxing Moon’s nostril with a tendril. “Soon, you will open up to me and answer my questions without requiring me to ask them,” Rookwood promised, his tone an infernal hiss. “You will spill every secret of your soul at the very sight of me,” he added with a demonic growl. 

Luna’s wings fluttered, her feathers now ruffled. She looked flustered. 





Guests were becoming entirely to common in the castle. It was becoming troubling. First the wedding, and now this. The day had been going very much like any other. Celestia was in her throneroom, holding court during the noontime hours, looking at the long line of ponies and other creatures wanting a word with her. It was a good day to get things done. Winter was thawing, spring was beginning to bloom, Luna was happy, Celestia was starting to feel good about life again...

And then, he appeared. 

With an alarming clatter of bones and a burst of blue fire, a one hundred foot long collection of mismatched bones appeared in Celestia’s throneroom. 

Celestia was so very thankful that Hades was not wearing his meatsuit. 

Hades stood there, waiting, saying nothing, looking at the long line of ponies waiting to see Celestia. He bowed deeply to Celestia, and then to the guards, and then thumbed his nose at the pony standing first in line, using his thumb talon. 

The pony first in line fainted dead away. 

“Hades,” said Celestia patiently, “what are you doing here?” 

“Visiting family,” replied Hades absentmindedly. 

“We are not family,” sighed Celestia, leaning on the padded arm of her throne and taking a deep breath, trying to keep her good temper. 

“Sure we are. Rookwood is very much like a son to me. He married your sister. That makes Luna my daughter in law… And you, well, it makes you something to alleviate my boredom,” explained Hades, tapping on his skull with a claw. 

“Hades, I have an empire to run,” Celestia said in a quiet voice. 

“I know, I thought I’d drop by and give you moral support,” said Hades. “Don’t worry, I’ll behave, you won’t even know I am here,” promised Hades. He settled his bony backside to the ground, and then eased his long bony body down to the floor, curling in a half circle around Celestia’s throne. 

Celestia heaved a sigh of frustration and gestured for somepony to come forward. 

A very nervous looking stallion came forward, his eyes wide, full of terror, his lips pulled away from his teeth, looking at Hades’ skull resting nearby. 

“I, uh, your Majesty, we of the Fiscal Responsibility Department feel that too much money is being spent on the arts. Now is a time for a little financial austerity,” urged the stallion nervously. 

Several of Hades’ bones twitched. 

“The Crown has a promise to keep, to equally match every bit donated to fund the arts,” Celestia commented, an almost imperceptible hint of frustration in her voice. 

“That may be true, but at the time that promise was made, there was no indicator that the public outpouring of funds would be so tremendous,” replied the stallion. 

“I will not break this promise,” Celestia said defiantly. 

“You know,” muttered Hades, “we have a special place in Tartarus for accountants and bureaucrats. No matter how much they try, the ledgers never quite come out perfectly. Oh, and we torture them in all of the other more common ways as well. We have our own bureaucrats, and they’re sticklers for spiritual accountability. I wonder, if I were to check your ledger, if your numbers would add up?” 

The stallion gulped. 

Celestia bit her lip, torn between angrily lecturing Hades and laughing riotously. 

“What kind of maggot-bait intentionally lowers funding to the arts?” asked Hades angrily. “The politics of the world of the living disgust me. Just wait until you are standing in line in one of my courts you officious little prick, I’ll remember you,” promised Hades. 

The stallion fainted dead away, a pile of papers spilling from his clipboard. 

Celestia forced her face to go stony as she called forth the next applicant. 
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 28
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The skeletal draconequus was annoying and would not go away. Celestia had some very mixed feelings about this. He was slightly annoying, but it was comforting to see him again, in an odd way. It had been a long time. A very long time. 

“Hades, I must ask, why are you suddenly taking such an interest in Equestrian politics?” asked Celestia, stopping in mid stride and questioning the skeletal form galumphing behind her. 

“I have very little interest in Equestrian politics,” yawned Hades. “Your politics disgust me,” he added, his tail swishing in annoyance. 

“Then why are you here?” snapped Celestia, finally losing her patience. “You’ve been away for so long, so detached, and now, after all this time, you just decide to come around again and make your presence known!” 

“And I must ask you to forgive me for that. I got distracted. I became a little melancholy. Certainly you can forgive your father’s friend, hmm?” said the skeletal draconequus, clicking his claws on the floor,  the blue flames in his eye sockets becoming purple for a moment. “You were not the only one hurt by the loss of your father. He was my friend. I trusted him. I loved him dearly. When our war spilled out into the land of the living, your father bravely put a hoof down and stood up to the darkness. I was already in a bad mood, having him suddenly show up in my court of the dead caused me real grief. I wasn’t prepared to deal with it,” confessed Hades. 

“And you holed up in your dark little pit and ignored those who needed comfort after his death. Or how about when I had to banish my sister and needed someone to comfort me? Where were you then? You severed all ties that existed between us. And now you just show up and act like nothing has happened, like everything is fine between us,” Celestia said, her tone acerbic and bitter. 

“A little time has passed,” admitted Hades. 

“OVER A THOUSAND YEARS HAVE PASSED,” growled Celestia, causing the nearby guards to snap to attention. 

“I’m sorry?” said Hades, his tone wavering. 

“I have had it with the cry of ‘I am sorry’ coming from every draconequus I know, as if that makes it better,” replied Celestia, her wings snapping out and flapping in frustration. 

Hades slumped. “You and your sister are the only things I have left to remember him by.” 

“You should have looked after your valuables,” Celestia snapped. 

“Well, no time like the present, right?” Hades said. 

“SOD OFF YOU MOLDY COLLECTION OF BONES!” Celestia cried, reaching her boiling point. 

“You really are upset about this, aren’t you?” inquired Hades, not at all worried about the sudden increase of temperature. He noted that the guards certainly seemed concerned. They were retreating, and doing so rapidly. 

“Look here you snot nosed little filly, I loved your father. He was very dear to me. And I broke the rules by helping you to ascend. I meddled in mortal affairs. The only reason why you are still alive thousands of years later and having this conversation is because I saw a need for an alicorn perspective in the world, oh you of noble politics,” said Hades, lifting one claw and tweaking Celestia’s nose. “Your whole race would have died off had I not interfered. And now there are two minor alicorns around, the first step in rebuilding your race, and you have endured these long years to see a revival. Others willappear in time and eventually, the world will see your kind again.” 

Celestia deflated, her anger gone, her wings slumping, the tips touching the floor. She stood defeated, looking pummeled into submission. 

“Your race stood so near destruction, even the Reaper of Alicorns perished during that conflict, banished into the void, dragging with him our hated enemy,” Hades said in a soft voice. “I had to collect and then hold to the scales your father’s soul myself. I almost didn’t have the nerve to do it,” confessed Hades. 

Celestia said nothing, she remained slumped, her eyes beginning to flood. 

“War is approaching again,” muttered Hades liplessly. “Even now there are forces in Tartarus that move in support of Nightmare Moon. The Realms of the Dead seek her destruction, but there are many who would go to war to support her. I will do what I can to make sure this does not spill out into the lands of the living.” 

Celestia looked up at Hades, fear now visible on her face. 

“I shouldn’t be telling you this, I keep breaking the rules. I wrote the rules, I set the penalties for breaking them, and I should be the one following them. What can I say, I’m damned,” grumbled Hades, now slumping and looking as defeated as Celestia. 

“War?” asked Celestia. 

Hades nodded slowly. 

“Again?” Celestia said in grief stricken tones. 

“You look distraught. You know, you’re still not too big that I cannot bounce you on my knee like I did when you were little to make you feel better,” offered Hades. 

Celestia sniffled a few times, her face now tear stained. 

“Since I seem to be so fond of breaking the rules, would you like to know more about your future niece? Would that make you feel better?” asked Hades. 

“No, I like surprises,” replied Celestia. 

“Oh, she’s going to be full of surprises. I predict you are going to lose your love of surprises at some point,” Hades said in soothing tones. “All that you see right now, enjoy it while you can, the foal of terror and destruction approaches.” 

Celestia gave a watery smile and looked Hades in the eye sockets. “Don’t talk about my niece that way.” 

“No, really, you do not understand what is in store… or the worry that I have!” 



 

Luna settled into her bed, home once again, exhausted and ready for the comforts of the world of the living. She was sad to leave Rookwood behind, but knew that he would visit. They had to begin the hunt. She had to begin to select her best guards. And then there was so much to do to get clearance to began to chase down those wanted. Diplomatic clearances to bring soldiers into foreign lands. The task ahead was complex. 

She rolled over on her back and rubbed her belly. It was getting larger now. She had never been pregnant before, even when she was mortal, seed had never taken in her furrow for whatever reason. The magic of ascension had left her barren, just as it had left her sister. 

She rubbed her impossible miracle and felt a warm rush of gratitude. 

In Tartarus, Violet had coerced a promise from her, to never place her future sibling into harms way. Luna had balked at first, actually a little angry at Violet for her demands, but had reluctantly backed down and promised to stay back out of the direct physical fighting. Luna was immortal. She could survive grievous wounds that would crush her body into paste. The foal in her belly? Probably not. She did not know for certain. It was one of many questions she had. 

Rookwood had looked visibly relieved when Luna had given her reluctant promise to Violet. 

As she rubbed her belly, she felt the faint tingle of arousal, the feeling of her own fetlocks rubbing over her sensuous and silken belly. Her thoughts turned to Rookwood and his many tortures of the unicorn Waxing Moon. That thought proved to be quite arousing. 

Rookwood had something that Luna found attractive. A quiet sense of dedication. Rookwood was good at his job. Luna did not feel bad at all about Waxing Moon’s torture. She was quite comfortable with it infact. She felt absolutely no pity at all for the unicorn’s plight after witnessing Violet’s creation. 

Luna had never been one for unnecessary cruelty, but this was necessary. Seeing that Rookwood had found his niche, his calling, his purpose in life, that was comforting. 

Luna heard her door open and she turned her head to see her sister. 

“Hades has been visiting,” Celestia said, easing onto the bed with Luna, pressing up against her side and rubbing Luna’s belly with her chin. Celestia realised that she now shared these moments of closeness with another. After a brief moment of consideration, she realised she didn’t mind. Rookwood was responsible for Luna’s condition, and Celestia was now genuinely happy about it. 

“I know,” replied Luna, “we spoke at length in Tartarus.” Luna wiggled, feeling Celestia’s chin tickle her navel. “Stop! Why must you always tickle me so!” 

“I must admit, it is nice seeing Hades around again. I was angry at him. Now, I am not sure what I feel,” confessed Celestia, turning her head and pressing her ear to her sister’s navel. “He had dire warnings about the foal you carry in your belly Luna.” 

“Hades is a tease,” Luna chuckled. 





Rookwood looked upon the Wood of the Damned. It was filled with dead grey trees, trees with skeletal branches bare of leaves. It was filled with endless number of psychopomps, all his responsibility as an apprentice Reaper. 

They sat in the trees, cawing madly, corvids and birds of all kinds. 

But mostly corvids. In particular, crows, ravens, and rooks. 

“Hungry?” asked Rookwood of his feathered charges, leading Waxing Moon along by a chain. 

The flock crowed madly at the sight of food, wings began to flap, many took to the air and began to circle, all of them eager and hungry for a bite to eat. It was well past feeding time. 

Rookwood enjoyed this job. It was considered an unfavourable position, grunt work given to Death’s various agents, but Rookwood intended to keep his title ‘Lord of Psychopomps.’ He didn’t see it as a chore. It was quiet pleasurable activity, like feeding pigeons in the park. It allowed him to have quiet moments of reflection. 

Waxing Moon began to scream pitifully, pleading for mercy. Rookwood had already shown mercy. Only one hundred years of torture before spending time as a bonepile. Rookwood willed the chain to vanish, leaving Waxing Moon frozen in place. 

“Feed, my children,” commanded Rookwood, as the endless grey skies blackened and filled with vast swarms of hungry psychopomps who fell upon Waxing Moon’s flesh hungrily. They devoured his flesh, tearing it away from the bones, plucking out eyes, tearing away ears, all of which continued to grow back endlessly, leaving the unicorn in terrible torment. 

Among the black swirling masses, a single purple raven led the frenzied masses in the endless feast, tearing out eyeballs as soon as one grew back. It tore at them hungrily, and, when the unicorn opened his mouth to scream, the purple raven plucked out his wriggling tongue, tearing it out with a single swift gesture, holding it aloft in its beak like trophy, and then devouring it as it cawed and cackled maniacally. As the psychopomps flew away, full from the feast, more of the endless swirling masses flew down to replace them, the unicorn’s torment unending. 

“There is a moral here,” said Rookwood patiently. “You and I both, we served very little purpose in life. Now, we both serve a purpose in the afterlife. Do you know what brought us to where we are?” asked Rookwood, knowing there would be no response. 

The unicorn’s screams turned to wet gurgles as his tongue was torn out again, not by Violet, but by some other hungry member of the seething black mass. Violet had perched upon Rookwood’s head, her avian belly now full and distended, her beak glistening with viscera and blood.  She cawed riotously, dancing around on top of Rookwood’s head, occasionally tugging at an avocado green ear with her claws in an affectionate gesture. 

“The choices we made,” said Rookwood, answering his own question. “I worked to serve another. You claimed to serve another, but you only sought to serve yourself. And look where it got you. Do you find this pleasant? Was what you did to Violet, satisfying your own sick needs, worth one hundred years of this? I was selfless, which is why I was given a second chance. You were selfish, which is why you will suffer through every creative punishment I can think of when you are not under the tender mercies of the tormentors down in the black pits. I bet these moments are almost like a vacation of sorts after what goes on down there. When you are a bonepile, I want to you think about how you hurt others with your actions. How we all suffered because of what you did. Princess Twilight Sparkle no longer knows any innocence after your grievous actions. Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armor remain haunted. I have seen their dreams. I have seen how they suffer. Think of the memories you left behind. Now think of how much responsibility the various Princesses have and how they serve ponykind. And think about how many ponies you may have hurt because the Princesses now lose sleep, and their ability to serve is reduced due to fatigue. Even now, I am being merciful, trying to help you. Believe me, if you don’t have something to think about, being a bonepile is awful. It is a pity that you feel no gratitude for my mercy… I have spoken to your tormentors at length. You do not yet understand or recognise the tender gentle mercies I have shown you, but you will. We will keep having these lessons until understanding is reached, and I will not give up until I have helped you reach a new level of understanding. Before these hundred years are up, you will thank me for giving you so much to think about during your time as a bonepile.” 

Rookwood smiled gently as Violet danced upon his head. 
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 29 (Slightly unpleasant, yes indeedy. Here there be horror)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Paper  seems  harmless upon first glance...

The room seemed small and simple. It did not have a stone table with chains. It did not have a table full of tools. There was no mildew on the ceiling or atmosphere of dread. It was merely a small grey room with unremarkable walls, a floor that was the colour of dingy bleh, and a ceiling that was entirely forgettable. The only remarkable things in the room were two ponies, one of which stood frozen and was unable to move, his eyes wide with terror. There was also a floating sheet of paper. 

“You don’t know me yet, but you will know me soon,” promised Rookwood, moving in a circle slowly around the frozen pony. “Usually, my dream realm is bit more sunny and full of pastoral terrors like bunnies. I created this space just for you. I wanted to get to know you, to get acquainted with you. You and I, we are going to spend so much time getting to know one another.” 

Gibbous Moon stood frozen, unable to move, unable to respond, his eyes glancing at Rookwood, his barrel heaving. Sweat began to bead along his pelt. 

“Hades gave me some marvelous advice before I set off on my task this evening,” commented Rookwood, looking up at the sheet of paper. “Find a common fear. Personally, while I have an acute case of dental horror, I too share this fear with you. Not having any magic in life, I had to handle paper with my delicate lips. All to often I felt the cruel sting of paper.” 

As Rookwood spoke, the paper moved suddenly, the edge sliding over the tip of Gibbous Moon’s ear, slicing it open and causing blood to trickle down. Gibbous Moon screamed and whimpered pitifully. 

“How disappointing. We’ve barely started and here you are. No spine at all,” Rookwood observed, his face creased with displeasure. 

The paper made another pass on Gibbous Moon’s ear, drawing another trickle of blood. 

“Paper cuts!” exclaimed Rookwood. “We both share a fear of paper cuts. Isn’t that nice? Once I begin to know your flesh and you and I begin to talk at length, this should aid the communication process. We have something in common. Isn’t that good news?” asked Rookwood. 

Gibbous Moon did not reply, he cowered, frozen in place, making pitiful mewling noises in his throat. Blood continued to trickle from his ear. 

“This is my first nightmare, how am I doing? Are you a satisfied customer?” queried Rookwood, real concern on his face. “I do this for your benefit you know, to drive you back into the light and into the good graces of those you will answer to when you die. It isn’t too late. You could give yourself up and come along quietly when we come for you. And we will come for you.” promised Rookwood, now floating the paper in front of Gibbous Moon’s nose. 

“You did awful things to Violet. Inexcusable things. Things you will answer for in time,” Rookwood announced, slowly leading the edge of the paper over a nostril. “Where is your Goddess now? Why hasn’t she come to your rescue?” 

The paper jerked suddenly, the long edge trailing over the tender flesh of Gibbous Moon’s nostril, slowly working its way deep into the flesh as it passed, leaving behind a noticeable split in the now bloodied nostril. 

Gibbous Moon began to howl. 

Rookwood leaned in close to Gibbous Moon and spoke; “I’ve only just begun to know your flesh. I did not know you would break so easily. I expected more from Violet’s murderers. I mistook you for hardened killers.” 

The paper began to drift and dance in the air teasingly, its edge creeping spine tinglingly close to exposed tender flesh, and Gibbous Moon’s eyes followed every movement. 

“You should be afraid of more than just a sheet of paper. Real terror comes for you even now. Nightmare Moon will not save you. She didn’t save your now dead compatriot. She allowed him to be taken, just like she will allow you to be taken,” said Rookwood, still making the paper dance, slowly, carefully, the edge now turned towards Gibbous Moon’s field of vision. 

The paper made a quick darting motion and opened up a deep paper thin slice on Gibbous Moon’s lip. He yowled in painful terror, now panting between cries, his barrel heaving from his ragged breathing. The floor was now spattered with bloody droplets. 

The paper was still clean and white. 

“I wonder if I could conjure up some lemon juice?” said Rookwood, thinking out loud, looking pensive and concerned, chewing on his lip. 

“No… please no!” begged Gibbous Moon, speaking for the first time. 

“Violet said no as well,” Rookwood said, now looking disinterested. 

The paper came down in a smooth fluid motion and left another bloody tear in Gibbous Moon’s lip, causing Gibbous Moon to gibber with pain and fear. 

“So far, this has been mostly harmless and not at all scary. Not like what I went through. Perhaps it is time for you and I to become a little better acquainted,” offered Rookwood. “Shall we start with a bit of oral horror?” 

Gibbous Moon shook his head no, Rookwood allowing him a tiny bit of freedom. And then, that freedom vanished, and Gibbous Moon was frozen in place. His mouth began to be pried open by some unseen force, his lips pulled away from his teeth. 

Rookwood peered in, examining the open maw of Gibbous Moon. 

“Where should I start?” asked Rookwood. 

The paper darted and moved sideways suddenly, ripping open twin tears on the edges of Gibbous Moon’s mouth, in the corners of his lips, extending his smile by almost a half inch. The room flooded with garbled screams from a mouth that could not close. 

Very much against his will, Gibbous Moon’s tongue began to unfurl from his mouth, being stretched out by some invisible force, and Rookwood pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Gibbous Moon’s tongue. 

“This wont be easy to look at, but I shall do my best,” whispered Rookwood, “it is my duty as the soon to be Lord of Nightmares.” 

The paper’s edge slipped over the tip of Gibbous Moon’s tongue in a slow drawn out movement, the edge creeping inch by inch as it traveled over the exposed and vulnerable fleshy tongue. It slowly pulled away, leaving behind a considerable split on the tip of the tongue. With a quick movement, the paper darted swiftly, shearing off a few taste buds and a thin sliver of skin from the side edge of Gibbous Moon’s tongue, causing the room to be filled with anguished howls. 

The sliver of flesh fell to the floor with a faint ‘splat’ and did not move. 

“You know, I just realised, I have made a mistake and Hades would be most upset with me. I admire Hades a great deal. He has been a good mentor. I would never knowingly want to disappoint him. He is very much like a father that I’ve never known,” said Rookwood, speaking his thoughts. 

The paper vanished from Gibbous Moon’s field of vision and Rookwood chuckled. 

Gibbous Moon felt his tail jerked upwards and an invisible force manipulated his pucker, causing the wrinkled flesh to protrude outward. There was a sudden searing pain as a papercut was slashed into his exposed and defenseless anus, followed by another searing slash, and then another. 

The paper drifted lazily back into Gibbous Moon’s field of vision. 

“Now, the paper has been soiled,” Rookwood said in disappointed tones. “It is no longer sanitary. Think about how reckless I am!” 

The paper moved once again over Gibbous Moon’s tongue, making several quick searing slashes, the last and final slice discerped a long sliver of tongue free from the exposed and bleeding organ, the shaved away flesh curling away and falling to the floor as though it was a wood shaving. 

“I must warn you, what lies ahead will be unpleasant. We’ve only just  begun. I have such lovely pain to introduce you to. I’ve gone through such trouble to craft this nightmare for you. Are you scared yet? Because we are now moving on to other places,” explained Rookwood in exalted tones, his eyes going wide with excitement. 

Gibbous Moon felt something begin to tug at his sheath. 

“You know, this really makes me uncomfortable, having to manipulate you in this fashion. Trust me, I do not find you attractive, but this is part of the job description of the Lord of Nightmares. So please, don’t look me in the eye any more than you have to, or beg me for a kiss or a cuddle afterwards, alright? Let us just get this over with so we can get on with our lives,” whispered Rookwood, his voice a terrifying whisper as Gibbous Moon’s penis was slowly pulled from its place of hiding. 

Quite against his will, Gibbous Moon found himself growing hard. 

Rookwood tittered obscenely as he observed the tumescent organ, and then turned his gaze away. “Oh dear, even I cannot watch this, I shall have to confess to Hades. Confession is good for the soul. But this isn’t good for the hole,” rhymed Rookwood, as the paper made a single tearing slash over the tip of the exposed penis, gashing open the urethra, leaving behind a deep split. 

“Hades tells me I am a bastard,” confessed Rookwood, using his magic to now squeeze Gibbous Moon’s bladder. “The effort of this is two fold. You will wake up knowing you wet the bed, and, when the piss starts to come out, this is going to sting something awful!” giggled Rookwood. 

Just before the urine came flooding out, the paper swooped and left behind another blood weeping slice over the urethral opening. As the first drops of urine flowed, Gibbous Moon let out an unearthly howl. 

“There is a memory that will last in the waking world. My only regret is that the harm done is not permanent. Such a pity,” commented Rookwood. 

The paper hovered overhead, quivering. 

It dove down in a swift fluid movement, sliding in between Gibbous Moon’s broad teeth, and left behind a single red bloodied line along his gum. 

“It was your eyes that brought Violet to such agony,” lamented Rookwood, now looking sad, his face a theatrical exaggeration of sorrow, his lips in a pouting moue. 

Rookwood took hold of an eyelid, stretching it and pulling it out, ignoring Gibbous Moon’s pitiful pleading cries, leaning in and examining the exposed eyelid. 

“Silence your cries, I grow tired of your mewling and your bleating. Violet cried as well and you did nothing to cease your relentless activities as you corrupted the very fabric of her soul.” Rookwood shouted angrily. “You left behind a pollution so foul that it prevented a foal from ever entering Elysium. She will NEVER KNOW PEACE!” 

Rookwood slashed away with the paper, shredding the eyelid and leaving it in tatters, dozens of strokes happening in seconds, and with a disgusted jerk, he tore the remains of the eyelid free from Gibbous Moon’s face. Real anger showed on Rookwood’s face now, all sense of theatrics now gone. There was only rage. 

“A foal, unable to enter Elysium,” hissed Rookwood. “A foal! You did something so foul that her soul is unable to pass beyond the barrier. She cannot pass the gate. Hades did everything within his power to no avail. You cannot even imagine the punishments we have in store for you,” growled Rookwood. “I hate you… I hate you so much.” 

The paper now hovered before Gibbous Moon’s exposed eyeball. All of the screaming had stopped, there was no sound. The paper danced teasingly, darting in close, and then swishing away. It moved in a hypnotic pattern, almost like a wavering snake, edging closer and then whipping away, sometimes almost grazing the exposed eyeball. 

Gibbous Moon was forced to watch all of this in silence, unable to protest, unable to stop the inevitable assault on his exposed eye, a real sense of violation now creeping through his panicked brain, his heart in the real world now thumping perilously close to bursting. 

With a slow deliberate movement, the corner of the paper teased the exposed pupil and then slowly, with such agonising slowness, the paper’s edge began to trail over the exposed eye, tearing it, slicing it, with each inch of passing the eyeball opened a little more, until at last, the edge of the paper was reached and the end corner passed over the eye, leaving it yawning open, a wide slit now opening the front. 

Something new appeared in Gibbous Moon’s vision. It was small, white, and wiggling. 

“This is a corpse worm. We have them in Tartarus. I want you to know what awaits you,” said Rookwood, lifting the tiny white worm.

Without another word, Rookwood jammed the wiggling worm into the yawning slit that hung open on the exposed eye and the hungry worm began to devour defenseless flesh. 

Finally, Gibbous Moon was allowed to scream, his anguished and agonised cries muffled from his tortured tongue. 

Scowling, Rookwood waited and refused to allow Gibbous Moon to wake, holding him as long as he could. 
	
	
> Chapter 30
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Luna stood, surrounded by the dead and the dying. 

She stood in the old world, searching for the Tomb of Nightmares. This is the land where the founders of Equestria had came from. Ponies still lived here, but they were so very different from ponykind in Equestria. 

The different tribes lived at war with one another, and the fight had gone on for centuries. 

The only unifying force in the region was the cult, the Shroud of Nightmares, who brought control and order as they settled through the region, spreading the faith of Nightmare Moon. She who would rise from the dead and shroud the world in darkness, saving only those who faithfully served her, and her alone. 

None of Luna’s own guard had perished in the conflict, but there had been injuries. The day would end soon, Luna’s sister still in control of the sun,  even on the other side of the world. 

Rookwood could not manifest in the daylight, not yet, so Luna had made her beloved proud, sending many souls to meet Rookwood and his masters. 

Luna carefully stepped through the battlefield, looking for survivors suitable for gathering intelligence from. A unicorn called out to her, moaning, one leg twitching, begging for mercy. Luna obliged, planting one shod hoof upon his skull delicately, bidding him goodbye, and then pressing downward with a sickening crunch. 

Even on the battlefield, the Moon Goddess was delicate and dainty. 

The lunar pegasi had a disadvantage attacking in the day, weakened, but even with their weakness, a few hundred had killed well over a thousand. And the survivors would die soon enough, Luna was not taking prisoners. 

“Mistress, we have a captured commander,” Ragebellow grunted, stomping down upon a squirming pegasus that was feebly kicking at him. “Unicorn. Now subdued. Also, hornless. The prisoner is hornless. There was a bit of an accident. He accidently cast spells at me.” 

Luna gave a grim laugh and looked her own trusted commander in the eye. “I shall have to have a discussion with him I suppose,” she said, her voice more than a little haughty. 

It felt good to be back in battle, fighting something. Peace was pleasant, but boring. Luna was content to let her sister handle peaceful endeavours. War was brewing, above and below, and Luna worried that her foal would be born in a world torn by war, but it was also something she subconsciously desired. Luna was at her best when she was at her worst. Her best personality traits manifested when she was acting as a protector. Luna needed to be needed. 



 

A massive swarm of flying death soared above the treeline, Luna’s Legion swiftly approaching their destination. The massive swarm of lunar pegasi also contained a few unicorns, pulled along in chariots, along with Luna, who was also riding in a chariot. 

Somewhere, on the horizon, the Tomb of Nightmares awaited them. It had once been an actual tomb, and the tomb was still there, but now, it was a library, a place of operations for the cult, and a school of magic for those who found favour. 

Tonight, it would be plundered, the inhabitants slaughtered, and, if all went well, Gibbous Moon would be sent to Tartarus to answer for his crimes. Luna’s loyal guard cackled like crows, eager for another fight. The lunar pegasi lived for war, this was their bread and butter. Sitting around the castle doing nothing had driven them to distraction. They were spoiling for a good fight, and the conflict earlier today had merely whetted their appetites. Teeth were bared as they flew, tongues lolled, and guttural grunts came from overly excited guards, both male and female, the much larger females dwarfing the males. 

Excited slobber rained down from the flapping swarm, all of them hungry for battle. 



 

“Before you depart for your task there is something you should know,” Death said to Rookwood, who stood before his throne, waiting patiently, a new to Rookwood relaxed stance. Undeath had been good for Rookwood, he had gained a great deal of confidence that he lacked in life. 

“Yes Death?” Rookwood replied, looking up at the two headed pony upon the throne, doing so without fear, looking up, not at his master, but his mentor, and now a trusted friend as well, or so Rookwood believed. What Rookwood did not know was that the feeling was indeed mutual. A bond of trust had formed, and now steadily grew between the two. 

“You are scheduled to reap the soul of one Gibbous Moon, his time is nearly up. His soul is scheduled for examination, and his final hour has been called by the Fates,” Death said with a furious tone, his agitation evident with the way one hoof tapped upon the arm of his throne. 

Rookwood nodded, realising this was a sign that he would be successful tonight. There was no chance for failure, and Rookwood was silently thankful for this assurance of completion for his task ahead. 

“We are going to become quite busy,” sighed Death, looking down at his faithful servant. 

Another nod came from Rookwood, who stood looking pensive, Violet rubbing up against his leg, her face beaming with happiness at the news. Rookwood realised there were an unusual number of bone golems standing around, waiting and watching, twitching occasionally from impatience. “Busy? So I take it that Gibbous Moon will not be coming alone,” Rookwood reasoned, reaching up and rubbing his chin, his fetlock rubbing up against his avocado coloured hide thoughtfully. 

“I do not know what is about to happen actually, the Fates refused to tell me. They commanded me to be prepared for a grand spectacle and then said no more. The Fates can be slightly annoying at times,” Death said in a low whisper, knowing that Tartarus was full of ears. They could be found everywhere, usually torn free from the damned  and left littering the ground. 

Somepony really should spend more time cleaning this place up. 

Rookwood nodded in agreement, having met the Fates several times already. She unnerved him. The Fates were an undead chimera, with the heads of an equine, a griffon, and a dragon, all attached to the long serpentine body of a draconequus. 

The Fates had once told Rookwood that he would only find happiness in slavery. 



 

Luna’s Legions devoured the sky, rushing towards the ever distant horizon. A flock of pegasi had flown up to attempt to intercept them, slowing them down only briefly, they had been dealt with swiftly and surely, no match for the battle starved lunar pegasi. 

Luna felt like it was the bad old days all over again, the days of Discord and Sombra. Back when there were real threats. The sun loomed on the horizon as they traveled, leaving them in near perpetual twilight as they traveled west towards the setting sun. 

The unknown lay before them, and Luna rushed to greet it. 

Luna could see lights in the distance, a settlement was ahead of them, and Luna knew this is what they sought. She could see a few buildings in the distance. And something else. Something large loomed in the distance. Luna could not see what it was, but it stood as tall as a tower, as large as fortress. 

Enemy pegasi were rising up to greet them now, and a wing detached from the Legion to intercept them, the Mistress’ Marauders delighting in their bloody task. The air filled with screams and it began to rain blood as the enemy pegasi were eviscerated midair, wings torn from their bodies, heads and limbs torn free from writhing torsos left to plummet to the earth. 

Luna watched from her chariot, feeling joyful, her eyes wide with excitement, her heart pounding in her barrel, her ears filled with the screams of those who were victorious… and those who were not. 

At last, the sun finally slipped below the horizon, and darkness slowly began to shroud the land. In the last dying glow of twilight, Luna saw that the enormous figure in the distance was shaped like a pony. It was close now, close enough to see in detail, and it horrified Luna. 

It was a massive structure, made of wicker, and it was full of ponies. She could see them, all different colours and hues, all packed in and compressed inside the wicker cage in the shape of giant wicker pony. As the sounds of death filled the air all around her, Luna’s blood nearly froze in her veins as she realised what she saw in the dim and dying remains of the day, her superiour night vision showing her everything in perfect detail. 

There had to be over a thousand ponies trapped inside the wicker cage. 

Those in the center of the writhing mass had already likely suffocated, or so Luna hoped. As the night began to darken, the sun finally moving on to light other lands, flames began to lap at the giant wicker pony’s hooves. 

Terrible screams filled the air, horrid panicked screams of burning equines. 

Luna’s heart ached at the tragedy. 

Suddenly the night was almost as bright as day again, the wicker pony steadily igniting, the burning ponies creating a wick effect as their flesh melted and their fat rendered into oil, trickling down to feed the flames, flames fueled by the combustible grease created by the burning writhing masses trapped inside the vast wicker structure. Black smoke began to rise from the burning pony, and the agonised screams filled the air. 

Battle was joined. The air were filled now with enemy pegasi and unicorns fired spells upward from the ground. Luna had flown from her chariot, and circled overhead, high above the melee, a few trusted guard circling with her. Luna carefully fired spells through the chaotic mess, peppering the ground with spellfire. 

The air around her grew cold, and she knew Rookwood was near. 

He manifested a moment later, a translucent figure, a glowing spectre in the night, struggling to take form as the flames from the wicker pony illuminated the night sky. The look on his face when he saw the burning wicker pony mirrored Luna’s own face when she had realised what it was, and the fate of those inside of it. His insubstantial body floated, drifting in the swirling currents, no need for wings, his legs merely trailing wisps of black shadow. 

The air was filled with the terrible and gag inducing smell of roasted pony flesh. 

Rookwood’s form shimmered and became that of a large black avian, looking somehow skeletal, and he plunged, Luna watched him go, sweeping down towards the ground, death on black wings, a frightening terror to all those who opposed them. Luna saw that some of the enemy pegasi died from fright as Rookwood blew past them, eyes going wide, faces seizing in terror, wings failing to keep flapping, their bodies frozen in fear and plummeting to the earth, bursting and popping as they struck the ground, giblets and innards splattering everywhere. The lucky ones died at the sight of the terror inducing spectre. The unlucky ones died at the fangs and hooves of the lunar pegasi, ripped to pieces midair, savaged by creatures who thirsted for death and had found it, now locked in a frenzy, an orgy of blood and dismemberment. Long dormant instincts had been revived. 

Luna knew that these guard would never be fit to be allowed near their gentle kinfolk ever again, this battle forever changing their fundamental natures and reawakening their inner monstrous desires. They had tasted blood… and pony flesh. They would never be able to be trusted in the civilised lands ever again and would have to go to the island colonies, free to hunt and be the savage creatures they had always been deep inside. 

It was a small price to pay. Luna understood the checks and balances of working towards the greater good. As she watched the scene of horror playing itself out below, the battle illuminated by the ghastly light of the still burning wicker pony, Luna felt a movement inside of her belly, something lived in there, something she had to protect, something she had to keep from this darkness. She resolved to sweep this threat from the world for the sake of her foal, steeling herself to make whatever sacrifices necessary. 

The wicker pony finally collapsed, burning bodies spilling forth, some still somehow alive, but not for long as they ran around on the ground, ablaze, burning, their frantic movements jerky and in pain as the fires consumed their flesh. 

Luna’s forces attacked the library in earnest, breaching the doors, crashing through windows, shadow diving into insubstantial clouds, creeping in, and then reforming into the very stuff of nightmares. The barracks and other buildings suffered similar fates. Many buildings were on fire now. The unicorns were being herded into groups and making last stands. 

Luna watched as Rookwood fled the battle, moving off towards the distant treeline, still in the form of a large somewhat skeletal avian, leaving a trail of terror behind him, causing some to die and others to faint, which was still a death sentence in the swirling chaos. 



 

Paper cuts! 

Gibbous Moon ran, fleeing the battle he had been so certain of winning, his mind flooded with terror. The glorious wicker pony full of victims offered up to his Goddess had done nothing, and the illumination it had offered could not keep him away. Him!

Gibbous Moon could almost feel the sting of the paper’s edge sliding over his various body parts even as he ran, fleeing the horrendous spectre that was his tormentor. His pucker clenched violently as he ran, the memory still fresh in his mind, terrible memories that he could not be rid of. 

He whimpered and gibbered as he ran, panicked pleading noises hitching in his throat. 

Rookwood had scared him, terrified him, horrified him in a way that Nightmare Moon never had. Rookwood understood that it was the little things that scared a pony. Nightmare Moon tended towards the over the top things. Gibbous Moon screeched in terror of the flood of nightmarish images that flooded his brain as he ran through the woods. 

Behind him, Rookwood prowled the woods, Gibbous Moon could sense him, it made his horn tingle with alarm and panic. He kept running, his breathing now ragged, panting, his heart near bursting. 

Ahead of him, he saw two flickering blue lights hovering in the distance. 

And then, he saw it. 

Something new that would haunt his mind. 

A skeleton, at least a hundred feet long, standing before him, looming alarmingly in the darkness, blue flames dancing in its eye sockets. 

“Hello Gibbous Moon.” the giant skeleton said cheerfully. 

Gibbous Moon skidded to a halt, his breath prisoner in his throat. 

“The good news is you can stop running now. The bad news is, you ran. Rookwood tried to help you, and this is the thanks you give him?” asked the bony figure. 

There was no reply from Gibbous Moon. 

“I almost showed up to bring Rookwood a supply of fresh lemons,” commented the skeletal figure, drumming his claws rhythmically on the ground. “But that would have been a little theatrical and maybe even slightly cruel. Rookwood is many things, but real true cruelty really isn’t a part of his marrow, which is a pity. You deserve to suffer so much for the indignities you have caused and the sins you have committed. The corruption you have created. The innocent soul you have forever blackened.” 

“Y-you,” whimpered Gibbous Moon, pissing himself suddenly. 

“Yes, me. Me being Hades. Even now, my devoted servant seeks you. I am here to end you. I am not supposed to interfere in these affairs, but I have never been one to follow the rules. And for you, for you I felt a need to speak to you personally while you still had flesh. You’ve been a very naughty pony. You have so much to answer for,” Hades said in a sulfurous whisper. 

“No…” begged Gibbous Moon. “Paper cuts!” 

“Still going on about that are you? I’ll have a word with Rookwood about the job well done. Any last witty parting words?” asked Hades. 

Gibbous Moon fell silent, not moving, barely breathing, no sounds coming from his tightened throat, his legs no longer able to move to allow him to run to safety. 

“Well then, this is it then,” said Hades, reaching backwards and absentmindedly scratching his ribs with a claw, making infernal screeching noises as he did so. 

“Boo!” 

Gibbous Moon let out a strangled gasp before falling to the ground. 



 

Rookwood saw the body ahead of him, the corpse of Gibbous Moon. His senses tingled. He was meant to be here, he had a distinct feeling that he was on time, a brief feeling of pleasure somewhere deep within him knowing that he was performing his task, rather than the nagging dread that he was failing. 

The afterlife had its own checks and balances. 

Gibbous Moon’s translucent spectral form stood over his corpse, looking very frightened and scared, connected to his body by a short silver strand. He could not run, he could not flee, and he stared at Rookwood as he approached. 

“Gibbous Moon,” greeted Rookwood. 

Gibbous Moon said nothing, but continued to stare at Rookwood, who was now in pony form. Rookwood had no horn, he was simply a pony, nothing less, nothing more, a faint green figure glowing in the night. 

Another figure approached in the darkness, this one dark blue, bringing with her a circle of radiance, her wings making no noise as she swooped between the trees, two shaggy panting lunar pegasi at her sides. They landed, but did not approach too closely. 

“Well, I am not sure what killed you, I suppose your heart must have gave out in the chase,” Rookwood said, looking down at the corpse. “But I am here to collect you and bring you to your judgment. I ask you now… do you submit? Will you go willingly?” 

Gibbous Moon offered no answer, he merely stood there, now looking defiant. 

Rookwood looked genuinely sad for a moment, sorrow settling over his features. “Very well then, your defiance is noted,” Rookwood said as the silver thread connecting Gibbous Moon to his corpse was severed by an unseen force. “Now I will take you to Tartarus and you will begin the slow torturous process to your own redemption,” he added, his words cold and almost unfeeling. Only Luna could detect the faint hint of anger and grief in Rookwood’s words. 

Rookwood touched the form of Gibbous Moon and the two spectral ponies vanished, leaving Luna alone with her guard. Luna took wing again, returning to the scene of battle, knowing that the night’s labours had only just begun. 
	
	
> Chapter 31
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Tartarus was full of the dead. 

There were almost too many to count. All around him, Rookwood saw flickering figures connected to bonepiles. Some distance quite away, Hades and the Fates sat on a balcony, observing this theatre of the damned. Death sat on his throne, looking somehow annoyed, bored, and perturbed. And there was Rookwood, lost in the middle of it all, overwhelmed, confused, and attempting to restore some sense of order. 

“What is the meaning of all of this?” Rookwood asked, his voice echoing through the impossibly large space. Other voices echoed his. Other Reapers were arriving now. Some walking in, others manifesting. This was a spectacle, a rare sight, and no one was going to miss this. 

“Are you prepared to do your task Rookwood? Death asked, his heads speaking in unison, raising one hoof high in a gesture of everything around him. 

“I am prepared to deal with the soul I have collected from the death of Gibbous Moon, but I do not know what to make of all of this!” Rookwood replied. 

“And what of all of these that perished under Gibbous Moon, and these faithful dead who fell helping you to capture him? These are yours to deal with as well,” Death said with a solemn sense of finality. 

“I must judge those who have served me faithfully and condemn them to their fates?” Rookwood asked, his voice finally faltering slightly. 

“Yes, Reaper of Lost Foals. These good ponies served you well and fought under your Princess’ command. They died doing your work. And you will send them to whatever punishment they deserve in their afterlife,” Death announced. 

For a moment, Rookwood slumped, looking defeated, but only for a moment. He resumed his stature, regained his composure, and held his head high. “Do I have free reign to work as I see fit?” asked Rookwood, his voice still nervous even though he stood tall. 

“Within reason,” replied Hades, his voice thundering from the balcony. 

Licking his lips nervously, Rookwood extended his will towards a pile of lunar pegasus bones, ignoring Gibbous Moon for now. They floated through the air, clinking together faintly, each of them landing in the scales near Death’s throne. The scale dropped on one side, and a shaggy lunar pegasus took form on the scales. He looked very surprised. 

“Where am I?” he asked. 

“You are dead, this is Tartarus,” Rookwood said gently. 

“Oh bugger,” he said, hearing Rookwood’s words. “I haven’t been a good pony.” 

“I know,” Rookwood answered. “Would you like to make up for that?” 

“I’m dead, isn’t it a little late for that?” the flickering form of the lunar pegasus asked. 

“Never too late for redemption,” Rookwood said. 

“Ah,” the condemned soul sighed, looking somewhat relieved. 

“You are looking at some serious time contemplating your many failures,” Rookwood announced, his mind filling with knowledge of the fallen dead. “Time under the gentle mercies of the punishers followed by some time as bonepile. You will not enjoy this experience. After your required time, you will be free to go into Elysium and seek whatever happiness you find there,” Rookwood assured. 

“I’ve never been the sunshine and rainbows sort,” the fallen guard confessed. “Elysium sounds boring actually.” 

There were gasps from the gathered Reapers. 

“Good, that makes what I am about to do easier,” Rookwood said, raising his head as high as possible and trying to look commanding. “Serve me. I cannot give you life, but I can give you unlife. You will be little more than a moldering corpse in the land of the living, but I require an army. I require soldiers for the tough times coming ahead. I require undying loyalty from those who serve me. Serve me and be spared the unspeakable horrors that await you, and the eternal boredom of the endless green pastures beyond the gate,” Rookwood promised. 

“So… I get to spend my afterlife, fighting? Destroying worthy enemies? Locked into combat forever? I dunno,” the fallen guard replied. 

There were low murmurs from the collected Reapers, and a commotion from the balcony where the Fates and Hades rested. 

“One hundred years then, at the end of which, you can decide to keep serving or you can go to your eternal rest, having earned your final peace, free to go without torment,” Rookwood bargained. 

“You will not get a better deal!” Hades thundered through the immense cavern. 

“I accept,” the fallen guard whispered and vanished. 

He reformed, standing in flickering form next to Rookwood. He blinked, looking very surprised, and began to study his spectral form. 

“You have made a wise choice Rolling Bones. Your gambling hurt so many more than you know,” Rookwood said, smiling. “You are my first, I shall place you in command. I am sure there will be more.” 

“This is still a gamble,” Rolling Bones said, looking at his cutie mark, which was a pair of dice. 

With a sigh, Rookwood summoned forth the next bones of the fallen guard. 



 

The grim theatre seemed endless. Of the fallen guards, almost all chose service, with only one choosing to cast his fate to time spent with the punishers and some time spent as a bone pile. Rookwood’s army grew. Both male and female lunar pegasi had fallen, and now, stood again, standing around in spectral form, talking to one another, some of them looking very pleased with themselves. 

One had offered eternal service…which Rookwood seriously pondered. At the end of one hundred years, the choice of another hundred years could always be offered. And again. Certainly, at some point, eternity would become tedious. 

The task had only begun, there were still thousands of bonepiles, all giving off a lot of heat, some of them actually burning, some of them giving off faint cries. 

Rookwood regarded them next, pondering all those who must have died in the wicker pony. These were tormented souls, having suffered a terrible fate in life, now awaiting a terrible fate in death. 

Rookwood could not bear to place them in the scales. He stomped his hoof, and suddenly, the cavern was filled with the keening and wailing of the damned, those burnt in the wicker pony, many of them still burning in their afterlife. 

More strange magic at work. 

They were ponies of all tribes, pegasus ponies, earth ponies, unicorn ponies, and all of them had died horribly, placed inside the wicker pony and set on fire. They screeched and gibbered, their lives stolen. 

Rookwood was glad that Violet was off with Celestia  during all of  this, but knew the sun would rise upon her location soon. She would need to be here for Gibbous Moon, and he hesitated to call her. 

Rookwood gazed into the depths of Tartarus, and the dead of Tartarus gazed back at him, so many eyes gazed upon him and waited for him to do something. 

“I cannot give you back what was taken from you!” Rookwood said to the gathered dead. “But I can give you a chance to push back the darkness and help to protect those who would do what was done to you to others!” Rookwood cried. 

The burning dead shrieked in response, making a truly awful wail. 

“Serve me. Become my messengers. I will soon become the Lord of Nightmares. I offer you the same deal I offered my undead guard. One hundred years of service and you will go into Elysium without having to pay penance. Help me deliver nightmares, and I will release you from your torment,” Rookwood promised. 

A unified cry rose up from the dead, and one by one, the flames and the burning began to cease, the fires finally ending. Nopony refused. After some time, Rookwood realised that he had himself a much needed army, both soldiers and messengers. It was small, but it was a start. 

Rookwood waited, knowing that Violet would arrive soon. 



 

The scales fell with a clack, and Gibbous Moon cried out. The surrounding dead called and jeered, and this had somehow become a gross public spectacle. Violet stood nearby, oddly silent, and Hades had come down off of the balcony to stand near. 

Before Rookwood could even begin to summon shadow, Gibbous Moon began to plead for forgiveness and mercy. 

“I did wrong, I hurt others, I brought dark foul magic back into the world that had been forgotten. I wanted power. I wanted to rule, and Nightmare Moon promised me my own kingdom, and that I would have all the wealth and power I ever wanted, and that she would show me the secrets of ages long past, including the magic of one called Sombra. I read about his works, they intrigued me. I made deals with fell forces, Lords of dark things here in Tartarus. I have brought my self to ruination,” he admitted, dropping his head. 

Rookwood did not extend his shadow tendrils. He felt no need. Violet looked at him curiously, then nodded her agreement. Hades stood nearby, tapping one claw on the floor, looking at Rookwood and then at the Reaper of Ponies. 

“One hundred years of punishment under the tormentors, one hundred years as a bone pile,” Rookwood announced. “As a special punishment, the tormentors are to bisect your soul using paper,” Rookwood added. 

An anguished wail came from Gibbous Moon as he collapsed upon the scales. 

“It was paper that brought you to this end. Paper from which you gained the black knowledge that you did. And it is by paper that you will atone for your actions,” Rookwood said to the sobbing figure. 

“Poetic justice,” muttered Hades. 

Violet said nothing but stared up at Rookwood, silent, blinking slowly, looking somewhat bothered. She sat down with a sigh of resignation. 

The crowds parted as the tormentors came to claim the condemned unicorn, who did not go quietly, screaming and gibbering about “paper.” 



 

“You did good out there,” Hades complimented, looking down at Rookwood. “I think you’ve earned something for your work.” The undead draconequus reached down and touched Rookwood, pressing one claw carefully on top of Rookwood’s skull, not doing any harm, just touching. 

“There,” Hades announced, “that should serve well. You serve a unique living capacity, so I have taken the liberty of crafting you a new living body. Something beyond mere shadow and a bit more than a skeletal form for the realm of the living. The body will be weak to start out, but will gain strength over time.”

“I can’t tell any difference,” Rookwood said, trying to look at himself. 

“Wait, you’ll see the difference soon enough,” Hades promised. 

“Thank you,” Rookwood said, his tone warm and grateful. 

“Been a long time since I’ve enjoyed doing my job. Or looked forward to my task,” Hades confessed. “Been feeling a renewed interest lately.” 

“I suppose things have been exciting,” Rookwood admitted. 

“More than that. I’ve missed the living. Some of them. Celestia. Luna. Practically family. And now you. Being immortal makes it hard to keep friends. If you are not careful, you will drift away and go into bad places. After a few hundred years, you can run out of things to talk about, things to do, no matter how much you love someone, and then you are in danger of drifting away. I love Celestia and Luna a great deal, and yet I drifted away from them. I stopped talking to them. I ran out of things to say. I ran out of reasons to drop in and say hello. Don’t make this mistake with Luna,” Hades warned. 

“It is a sobering thought,” Rookwood replied. 

“Every day became exactly the same,” Hades confessed. “Sure, now you have days like this one, these are great days, but at some point, this will become a grind. It will become your job, your career, and you will go home to Luna at some point, and you will begin to feel bored. Avoid that at all costs,” Hades said. 

“How?” Rookwood asked. 

“I don’t know,” Hades said, shrugging. 

“You have me a bit worried Hades,” Rookwood confessed. 

“You should be a bit worried. Find a way to avoid the pitfall,” Hades said. 

“I wish I understood more of what you are saying,” Rookwood said. 

“Lodestar will help out a lot I’m sure,” Hades said. He winced. “Damnit, I don’t think I should have said that!” Hades swore. 

“Who is Lodestar?” Rookwood asked, looking uncertain. 

“Your first foal. You and Luna are going to have a LOT of foals,” Hades said. “Damnit, I just did it again, the Fates are going to rip me a new one,” Hades muttered. 

“Foals?” Rookwood asked. 

“Never mind, forget I said anything,” Hades said. 

“Making foals endlessly isn’t a bad way to spend eternity… “ Rookwood said thoughtfully. 

“Maybe that’s the trick,” Hades said. “Maybe I should ask the Fates if she wants to get fleshy with me,” Hades said, shuddering with disgust. 

“Lodestar?” Rookwood asked. 

“She is going to ruin your afterlife,” Hades slowly admitted. 

“That bad huh?” Rookwood said. 

“The Fates say she is going to be one of the most problematic foals ever in existence,” Hades said. 

“Oh… oh no,” Rookwood said, his voice dropping low. 

“Go to her Rookwood, Luna I mean, keep her happy, she deserves that,” Hades commanded. “Balance out all of this death, spend some time with the living.” 

“As soon as the dark arrives in her location, I plan to go,” Rookwood said. 

“Good. I am going to go visit Celestia and see what sort of mischief I can stir up with her,” Hades said, his tail swishing. 
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 32 * 
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“Luna?” 

Princess Luna turned, hearing the sound. She had been bathing in a river, freeing herself from filth. Her female guard stood ready at the sound, and then relaxed when they saw who had spoke. 

“Rookwood?” Luna asked, not sure what she was seeing. “Is that you?” 

Rookwood nodded. 

Luna studied Rookwood. His body looked similar, but different. There was a smokey ambience around him now. He was still his unusual shade of avocado green, but he was missing his horn. Not that he needed it. He was shadow. The largest change was his mane and tail, which were an ethereal swirling black mass of shadow. Luna stepped closer, seeing something white moving about, but unable to see clearly what it was. 

Upon closer examination she saw that it was tiny bones and skeletal ponies, swirling in the writhing mass of shadow. 

“What are they?” Luna asked in breathless wonder. 

“You have the stars bound to you, I have the souls of those who serve me,” Rookwood answered, leaning close, smelling Luna, he could feel the warmth coming off of her wet body. “I have made hard choices. And now, there are the dead who are bound to me for service. Many of your fallen guard now serve me as faithful undead servants.” 

“Necromancy?” Luna hissed. 

“It isn’t necromancy when I do it,” Rookwood said, laughing. Feeling his body laugh again caused spasms of pure euphoric joy to travel through his muscles. 

Luna laughed nervously, necromancy being a difficult subject to laugh about. 

“Leave us,” Rookwood commanded of the guard. 

They guard, being Luna’s to command, understood that Rookwood was in some ways a much higher authority now, one they all had to answer to eventually. They left, and in a hurry. 

“Hades says that you and I are going to have many foals,” Rookwood said, pressing himself against Luna, his neck against hers, wrapping a foreleg around her neck. He realised now that he was actually a little taller than Luna. He held her close, feeling her living body against his, smelling her. She smelled of sweat and exertion. He pressed his nose just under her jawline and trailed his muzzle along hers, following the curve of her skull, until his nose pressed into her velvety ear. He stood there, inhaling Luna, his breathing heavy. “I can breathe again,” he murmured. 

“I am a dirty stinky smelly pony, you caught me just as I was starting to bathe,” Luna said, trying to pull away. She felt a momentary surge of panic when she realised, she could not pull away. Rookwood was more than her equal now in strength. Her panic fled quickly though, recalling the night she had let go. Her trust in Rookwood was perfect. 

Sensing Luna’s discomfort, Rookwood let go, and Luna backed away one step, looking at him. She took a deep breath, fluttered her wings, and then darted into deeper water. 

“I had a moment of panic, nothing more. I trust you. Your strength surprised me,” Luna confessed. 

“I am sorry, I will be careful,” Rookwood apologised. 

“I already know that you would never hurt me,” Luna said. “I have seen into your mind, and I doubt that your feelings would ever change.” Her ethereal mane and tail turned into physical hair as she plunged into the deep water and submerged. 

Rookwood watched Luna with an unabashed look of feral lust. He was patient. He had waited this long. But the moment that she stepped out of the water, he had every intention of attempting to woo her and have his way with her in the grass by the river, under the stars. 

“How clean do you have to be?” he asked impatiently. “It is my intention to get you dirty again,” he confessed. 

“I am dirty, smelly, sore, and tired. My teats hurt and the foal keeps kicking,” Luna complained.

“Well, we don’t actually have to do anything,” Rookwood said, genuine concern apparent in his voice. 

“Just give me some time, and then be very, very gentle with me. I really am sore and sensitive,” Luna answered. 

“We don’t have to do anything. I’ve waited this long, and I can wait a little longer,” Rookwood replied. 

“I cannot wait any longer,” Luna admitted. “I have itches that need scratching.” 

“I don’t know how the new equipment works, but I still have a tongue and my shadow magic,” Rookwood said nervously. 

“More than anything, I just want to feel you close to me and to hear your voice. At least your voice is still the same,” Luna said, neck deep in the water. 

Rookwood stuck out his long tongue and licked an eyebrow. “I think that’s still the same too,” he announced. “Licking your own eyebrow is an awesome ability.” 

Luna stared at the silly pony on the banks of the river. “You are an immortal, a reaper, soon to be the new Lord of Nightmares, and you are somehow impressed by your own ability to lick your own eyebrow… Rookwood, I do not know what to do with you at times,” Luna sighed. 

Rookwood snorted and began to bound around, gamboling under the stars, kicking up his heels, and enjoying the sensation of being alive again. After a few leaps, he fell into the grass and rolled around, feeling the damp grass all over his pelt. He rolled, snorted, worked loose a fart, and whinnied enthusiastically as he continued to roll. It felt good to be a pony again. 

“We are heading home to regroup and then figure out what to do next. Who to go after next. I am sure you will have much to say,” Luna said, still soaking in the water. 

Rookwood did not reply. He was too busy scratching the itchy spot just above his dock between his hipbones. He grunted and rubbed his plot over the grass, let out a satisfied whicker, and then spent some time scratching his balls with his fetlock. 

“So Hades says we are going to have many foals,” Luna said, intrigue apparent in her voice. “If you will give them to me, I will have them,” Luna said, trying to scrub herself with her hoof beneath the waterline. 

“All of this is so very weird. Even as I lay here scratching my little pony nuts, I am in several hundred other places right now, collecting the souls of the dead. They’re sad and confused and I am doing all I can to comfort them. As I lay here thinking about rutting you and scratching my balls,” Rookwood said. “Rutting you is going to make immortality bearable. And all of the foals.” 

“You are an odd creature, I am still wondering what it is that I see in you,” Luna teased, just before she dunked her head under the water again. When she re-emerged, she began to walk towards the shore, water running rivulets from her pelt. In the shallows, she shook herself dry, and, with a magical tweak, dried herself completely. 

“There,” she said.”I am presentable and do not smell like a pig. And the parts of me that you like to lick are now lickable.” 

“Best news I’ve heard all my afterlife,” Rookwood replied, making Luna giggle. 

Luna lay down in the grass beside Rookwood and rolled over on to her back. Her belly was large and round now. Several more months, not much longer in the bigger picture of things. She felt her nipples go hard as the cool night breeze played over them. 

Rookwood rolled over to his side and kissed Luna on the cheek. She turned her head and kissed him back upon the lips, seeking each other out and finding one another in the moonlight. Rookwood pulled Luna to him with an almost frantic need, his tongue sliding between her lips. It probed her mouth, sliding between her cheek and teeth on each side of her mouth, rolled over the roof of her mouth, and then lashed and pressed against her tongue, attempting to subdue it. 

After several minutes of liplock, he broke free and began to work his way down, kissing her chin, her neck, following her every graceful curve. She writhed in his embrace, and she felt fresh dampness moistening her tender folds. 

Luna could feel his lips trailing over her barrel now, along her breastbone, and then, after what seemed like hours, she felt the kiss along her navel. It was here that Rookwood paused and rested his head on her belly. 

“Rookwood, while that is very sweet, I have needs!” Luna begged. 

“So do I,” Rookwood replied. 

Luna sighed. “Fine then. Linger. But if you linger to long, you will incur my wrath,” Luna said in teasing tones. 

“I know how to deal with you,” Rookwood retorted. 

“Oh do you now?” Luna replied. 

Rookwood flicked out his tongue and lashed it over one of Luna’s nipples, making the mare start beneath him. He enjoyed it immensely. With a flick of his tongue, the licked the other nipple, making Luna heave a breathless moan. 

“I am too sensitive,” Luna admitted breathlessly. 

“Are you sure about this? I am content to simply hold you,” Rookwood said, his voice filled with worry. 

“Deny me this, and I will teach you a valuable lesson about immortality. It is horrible what you can live though,” Luna growled. 

“Yikes, cranky pregnant mare, the next few thousand years are going to be interesting,” Rookwood said. 

“Less talk, more licking!” Luna demanded. “Your Princess demands it!” 

Rookwood pressed his muzzle into one swollen teat and pulled the nipple into his mouth, pressing it tightly between his lips. He tickled the tip of it with his tongue, feeling the tiny folds of wrinkled skin. The sensation almost caused an overload in his mind. He inhaled and created more suction, pulling and stretching the skin. 

He could feel something kick the side of his face. He froze. His foal. 

“I felt that too, now keep going!” begged Luna. 

Rookwood let go of one nipple and seized upon the other, pressing his lips upon it, and then pressing his teeth down upon his lips. Luna let out a filly like squeal and squirmed beneath him. 

“Please, no licking… down there, I am too sensitive,” Luna moaned. “Just lie back, and let me mount you, I cannot have you pressing down on my belly too much.” 

Rookwood lie back, compliant, and quite hard already. A little rubbing and he’d fine to go. Luna straddled him, easing herself over him, and then scooted backwards until she felt something prodding her satiny feminine flesh. She gave out a faint cry, a simpering whimper, and scooted forward from the shock of the powerful sensation. As she scooted forward, her nubbin trailed over Rookwood’s pelt, sending electric shivers through her body. She braced her forehooves on either side of Rookwood’s barrel and prepared for another push backwards, hoping for penetration this time. 

Rookwood, beneath her, could feel the change in her weight. She was indeed fat with foal now. Her hips were wider than he remembered, and the curve of her belly pressed solidly against him. He could feel another kick from inside of her, felt a tiny hoof pressing into Luna’s flesh and into his own as well. He reached up and placed his forelegs around her rounded middle, his fetlocks resting on now well padded hipbones. Luna was pudgy in all of the right places, and it excited Rookwood a great deal. 

Luna struggled to achieve penetration. Each touch caused her to jump a bit, and with each jump, she dragged her nubbin over velvet flesh. Each rub placed her a little closer to one very pent up orgasm. 

Finally, Rookwood took matters into his own hooves, braced her firmly, and gently shoved her backwards until the first few inches found their way inside. 

Luna threw back her head and howled, a feral howl, something entirely un-equine. After her howl, she sat there, breathing heavily, her tongue hanging out as she panted. 

With a low growl, she continued to push herself backwards until she had taken him down to his ring, and then began to rock her hips back and forth. There was a wet sucking sound as she ground herself against Rookwood. 

Rookwood did not push himself in any further, worried about hurting the one he loved so dearly. This was probably the most intimate moment ever between them. He could feel the foal kicking as he slid in and out of his mare, and there was a powerful feeling of bonding. 

“Too sensitive!” Luna cried, releasing a flood of sticky liquids over Rookwood’s belly, biting down on her lip and spreading her wings as she did so. 

Luna strained to keep going, only able to tease the tip, unable to handle deeper penetration. The frantic wiggling over the tip did terrible things to Rookwood, he came dangerously close to the edge. 

Luna, as delicate as she was, feeling Rookwood ready to burst, slammed down as far as she dared, taking him in just past his ring, making him explode violently. She rocked her hips back and forth, not really sliding him in and out, but squeezing and clenching at his penetrating cock, making him fire off several more violent spurts. 

Finally, the fragile mare could take no more. She burst from her position and took off at a run for the river, spurting odd black fluid from her clenching and writhing filly flesh as she went, finally diving into the water to cool off her inflamed flesh. 

Rookwood noticed the change as some of the liquid dribbled onto him. It was pure liquid essence of shadow, shadow spunk, the very essence of his nature now. So this is what his foals would be created from. This was the stuff he had impregnated Luna with he reasoned. 

Luna gave a shuddering cry as she hit the cool water, the chill fluid stinging in sharp contrast to her hot midnight folds, the cold biting into her clitoris and gnawing with icy teeth. She sat in the cool water for several minutes, heaving out shuddering gasps, having yet another orgasm. 

As he lay there, all Rookwood could think about was his own foal kicking against his belly. It had a profound effect on him. 

He would outlive his own foal. 
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 33
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Canterlot. 

Oh to be home again and to have a body to enjoy the comforts of home. Rookwood looked forward to all manner of things, including reviving the old tradition of breakfast with Luna and Celestia. Would have to be a little earlier, done before the sun rose, but it was a tradition that Rookwood missed and longed for in his heart of hearts. 

It was time to regroup and figure out what to do next. There was so much to do and so little idea of how to get it done. It occurred briefly to Rookwood that time was on his side. He was immortal. Should he wait long enough, most of his foes would die of old age and he could collect them as they expired. Not that he would do that though. 

He liked his work. 

He stood on the balcony looking out over the city, feeling the moonlight invigorate him. He took a deep breath, feeling air in his lungs. It had been almost a month since receiving his new body, and it had taken Luna this long to get home after dealing with the aftermath of the assault on Gibbous Moon’s location. 

Luna was getting as round as the full moon and her pregnancy was taking on odd symptoms. She radiated her shadow aspect almost constantly now. Sunlight was becoming difficult for her to stand in. Luna, always so slender and graceful, was having a great deal of difficulty with her new body shape, and everything was stretched out and distended painfully. 

Rookwood now knew the truth. Their rutting in the dream realm had not impregnated Luna’s fleshy nature, but had impregnated her shadow aspect. After noticing his own shadow spunk, Rookwood had confronted Hades, and Hades had reluctantly told him the truth. 

Lodestar was to be the first in an entirely new race of ponies. 

Shade ponies. 

While lunar pegasi had shadow magic, it was weak and fickle. They were far too restricted by their own flesh and blood, which remained in constant conflict with their shadow natures. Staying in shadow too long was difficult and even unhealthy for them. 

Hades told him little else, saying that he would learn more in time. 

Rookwood had all the time in the world. He turned from the balcony and strode through his chambers, the ones he would share with Luna when he was physically present. She and Violet lay in the bed together, napping, bathed in beautiful silver moonlight. He exited the chambers, walking through the closed door, ignoring its solid reality completely. All around him, he saw the many careful wards that protected this room, and he was careful not to disturb them. 

It felt good to walk on real legs again and he reveled in the heavy thudding his hooves now made when he wanted them to make sounds. Guards bowed as he passed, and he nodded at them, giving them the respect that they were due. 

He made his way to the training yard, where a group of lunar pegasi were doing drills, beating combat training into new recruits. He watched them for a while, marveling in their strength, their dedication, their own love of Luna driving them to greatness. 

Finally, he focused his and will called for one that served him. 

Rolling Bones slowly materialised in the training yard, at first a shadowy whisp, and then eventually a walking corpse. Rolling Bones saluted with one decayed looking wing and snapped to attention. 

“Reporting for duty,” Rolling Bones said, not sure what to actually say. The new boss wasn’t one for explaining protocols, and that made Rolling Bones rather nervous. 

“I have been thinking,” Rookwood said, looking at Rolling Bones and hearing the panic all around him as the living spotted the living dead. He ignored the panicked cries. He wanted this display. “How goes your dream training?” 

“Good sir, I had The Gift in life, and in death it is much stronger,” Rolling Bones reported. 

“Good, good. I want to begin combing the dream realms and asserting our control. Summon up my Burning Dead and set them to task. Ignore the adults for now, put them to work guarding the minds of foals. Nightmare Moon isn’t going to go after the adults I don’t think. Patrol the nightmare dreamscape and watch for troubling signs of Nightmare Moon or her dedicated minions. Be gentle. If you harm the minds of foals with your careless bumblings I will have you flayed. Also, I don’t care what Celestia or Luna say, from now on, I want at least two of you guarding her door at all hours, day or night,” Rookwood commanded. 

“Yes sir… I will do as you command sir,” Rolling Bones said, not wanting to be flayed. 

“And don’t call me sir,” Rookwood quipped. 

“What do I call you?” Rolling Bones asked. 

“Well, anything but sir,” Rookwood replied. 

“Uh, what do I call you that will not get me flayed?” Rolling Bones asked. 

“I don’t know,” Rookwood said noncommittally. 

“Supreme Lord of Darkness?” the undead pegasi asked. 

“No, not that either,” Rookwood replied. 

“The Flayer?” 

“That’s catchy and tempting, but no.” 

“Prince?”

“Egads, no, never that!” 

“Your Majesty?” 

“Nope.” 

“Your Grace?” 

“Uh, that doesn’t work for me.” 

“Your Nightmarishness?” 

“Are you kidding me?”

“Um…”

“Um doesn’t work for me.” 

“King?” 

“No, I am not Sombra. I’ve spoke with him though, he’s a real prick.” 

“Rookwood?” 

“You know, I like that. Catchy. Has a nice ring to it. Kind of ominous.” 

“Yes, uh, Rookwood then. I shall depart at once and begin preparations.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Uh, sir, er, uh, Rookwood, generally the commander doesn’t say thank you.” 

“Why not?” 

“I don’t know, they just don’t.” 

“Well I do.” 

“Well, that is pleasant of you, but I am yours to control.” 

“So are you telling me that I cannot express my gratitude?” 

“Oh no sir, I would never be so presumptuous!” 

There was a single raised eyebrow. 

“Rookwood, I mean Rookwood. I would never tell you what to do unless you specially asked me for my opinion.” 

“Very good Rolling Bones. Go and deliver my instructions. I want two guards summoned right away and give them explicit instructions that they answer to me only.” 

“Will do… Rookwood.” 

The undead pegasi vanished, leaving behind a training yard full of disgusted and horrified onlookers, all of whom stared at Rookwood standing in the center of the training yard. 

“If you fall in battle, this is the fate that might await any one of you,” Rookwood called out in a loud clear voice. “Disappoint me or fail Luna at your own risk.” Having properly inspired the guards, Rookwood turned and headed back indoors, leaving a wake of terror behind him. 



 

As neared Luna’s chambers he could see two guards already settling in, much to the dismay of the living guards that already stood watch. He passed them, the living and the dead, nodding his head as he did so, and walked though the door which he did not bother to open. 

Luna lay, still asleep, looking beautiful enough to cause Rookwood’s breath to catch in his throat. He stood watching her sleep, his eyes lingering on the rounded curve of her belly. Her teats were already swelling, preparing for motherhood. Every inch of her most delicate and intimate places were exquisitely beautiful. She lay sprawled out on her back, her mouth opened slightly, Violet curled against her side, snuggled against one wing. 

Rookwood stood, content to watch. 

After standing completely motionless for almost an hour, Rookwood settled into a sofa, closed his eyes, extending his will and pushing himself into the dreamscape. 

It was time to catch up with an old friend. 

Doing what he had once done that had brought him to his own bitter end, he focused intently on Nightmare Moon, focusing on her shadow signature. The physical realm faded all around him as the dream realm shifted to take its place. 



 

The sky was dark and full of stars. It had been in this place not all that long ago where he had let go of Luna and had drawn Nightmare Moon into him, and taken her for a ride. 

There was no swirling vortex, no storm of darkness, not much of anything. Just a floating insubstantial wisp that stared at him balefully. 

“Tisk tisk, you don’t look well,” Rookwood teased. 

“Every day I grow a little stronger and reclaim what is mine,” Nightmare Moon hissed. 

“How does it feel knowing that you must know rely on little mortal ponies to sustain you?” Rookwood asked. “I bet that galls you.” 

“Not for much longer.” 

“Oh, I know, I am coming for them all. I have already taken Gibbous Moon.” 

“You cannot stop me.” 

“Oh, I can. And I will. I understand that you cannot be killed, but you can be subdued and taken to Tartarus. And once I am strong enough to do that, I will replace you.” 

“You have no idea what is coming. I have powerful allies. Your own immortality does not threaten me. You too can be subdued.” 

“Oh, I already know about your little ploy with the demon Lords of Tartarus. They are going to be dealt with. You do understand, they are not true immortals. They feed off of hate and fear, and they can be destroyed with enough effort.” 

“We shall see.” 

“Oh yes we shall.” 

“You can’t keep everything you love safe.” 

“You know, you don’t seem as scary. Without a body, or even a means to try and torture me, you are actually kind of boring. I don’t know why I was ever afraid of you.”

“You should be afraid of me.” 

“I don’t know about that. I feel like yawning actually. Would that be rude?” 

“I hate you.” 

“I am glad you do. One day, I am going to drag into a punishment that will make everything that you’ve done to Luna, Violet, and I seem quite pleasant.” 

“You’re new to this immortal verses immortal concept and painfully stupid. Wait until you are bound into something for one thousand years, away from your little loving Luna. I doubt your bravado will survive.” 

“She will wait for me.” 

“Yes, a thousand years of agony for both of you.” 

“I doubt that'll ever happen.” 

“Wait till Celestia discovers your necromancy.” 

“I am a Reaper now, necromancy is in my job description.” 

“You have no idea what is coming. I will delight in crushing you and ripping that foal from Luna’s womb.” 

“You’re nothing now. A mere shadow of your former self. Your threats have no meaning.” 

“We shall see.” 

Rookwood, growing tired of this exchange, winked out of existence, leaving the shadow of Nightmare Moon drifting among the stars. 



 

The room was still dark, but now something stirred in the bed. Rookwood came back to his senses, snapping into reality, seeing a candle beside the bed had been lit. He could see Luna’s teal eyes staring at him. He watched her yawn, and felt a powerful ache within his barrel. 

“You stepped out,” she whispered, her voice velvet slipping over velvet, trying to not wake Violet who was still slumbering. 

“I did. I had a conversation with an old acquaintance,” Rookwood confessed. 

“I see. And how is she?” Luna asked. 

“A shadow of her former self,” Rookwood replied. 

“She is still very dangerous Rookwood my love. Do not fall into hubris or complacency once again. Learn from your past mistakes. Very important that you do that now as an immortal,” Luna suggested, her voice a creeping shadow trailing through the midnight hour. 

“You are right of course, I shall listen to your warnings. I said some brash things. Perhaps I was out of place,” Rookwood admitted, his voice low. “She is just drifting now. If I knew how to capture her, I would take her to face judgment now. She is utterly powerless.” 

“But beyond your means to capture, so perhaps not so powerless,” Luna patiently explained, using logic. “In a thousand years or so you might be this wise,” Luna teased. 

“In a thousand years, I hope to be still finding new ways to make you make that face you make,” Rookwood said with a grin. 

Luna turned a dark purple colour and shook her head. “You pervert.” 

“Luna, what if something happened and one of us was bound into something, and we spent a thousand years apart?” Rookwood asked. 

“I- I do not know,” Luna replied, looking distressed. 

“We must be careful and hold one another accountable for each others actions,” Rookwood whispered. 

“Yes, I suppose that would be wise my little bird of the wood,” Luna agreed. 

“I would endure anything to remain with you,” Rookwood vowed. 

“I know my love,” Luna said. “I hope that I am worthy of your love and devotion,” Luna replied in a nervous whisper. 

“I wasn’t afraid of immortality until I thought about spending a long stretch of it without you,” Rookwood admitted. “Once again, Nightmare Moon has found a way to unsettle me. I hate that bitch.” 

“We both do Rookwood, I think that is what drives our love,” Luna replied with a wry grin. 
	
	
> Chapter 34
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Princess Luna. Conqueror of Equestria. Destroyer of the Griffon armies during the founding of Equestria. The Nightbringer. She who dances in shadow. Guardian of night. Keeper of dreams. Destroyer of war pigs. The ravager. 

Devourer of breakfasts. 

Rookwood stared as Luna moved about her meal, sacking various dishes and destroying entire populations of foodstuffs. Celestia had grown used to such activity, but Rookwood could only stare in awe as he watched Luna devour a dozen scones in mere moments, belch, and then move on to an entire platter of cheese biscuits, which she inhaled. 

Oddly enough, Rookwood actually enjoyed the sensation of being hungry again. 

“I have such fond memories of us all around this table,” Celestia confessed. 

Luna belched, a foghorn blast of obscenity and bad manners, and then went to work on a whole spinach and cheese quiche, dispatching it without mercy. No quarter was drawn from the breakfast pie, Luna wrecked it whole. 

Violet stared at Luna, a look of disbelief upon her face. “Help me Rookwood,” she asked, not once taking her eye off of Luna. 

Rookwood extended one shadowy tendril and pulled Violet’s bowl of fruit into shadow, allowing the undead foal to eat and enjoy something usually reserved for the living. She devoured it, not out of hunger, she was beyond that, but because the sweet taste brought her comfort. 

“It almost feels like we are a family now,” Celestia observed. “I have grown very attached to Violet,” she added in a small quiet voice. 

“I know,” Rookwood acknowledged. “I think we all love her.” 

Violet beamed, causing her face to emit a wet sounding crinkle. It was difficult to tell that she was undead now. She was loved so much that she was practically fully restored. She was mostly durable, didn’t tear or fall apart often, and rarely lost feathers anymore. 

“I can’t wait to be a big sister,” Violet announced, still eyeing Luna. “But I worry my little sister is going to come out fat.” 

Luna snorted at the foal’s words, sucked down the last bite of quiche, and moved on to a tray of apple fritters. She ate each apple fritter whole and the pile upon the tray began to dwindle at an alarming rate. 

Celestia laughed at the foal’s words, a broad warm smile upon her face. 

“The sun draws ever closer,” Rookwood announced, sounding worried. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask, how do you do your job in the sun?” Celestia questioned. 

“I exist in the in dead realms,” Rookwood replied, his eyes narrowed. “A realm just next door to this one. Sort of like the dream realm. The sun doesn't shine there. The dead depart their bodies, slip into the dead realm, and then I move about to collect them. I am doing it now, even as we speak. There is a little zebra foal wondering where his mother is.” 

“Tragic,” Celestia murmured. 

“I have a knack for making the tears go away,” Rookwood said in humble tones. “Each soul I draw gives me strength. And now that my watch is that of the very young, foals and cubs and hatchlings of the sapient species, I will have an endless source from which to draw strength. Hades is trusting me to draw a lot of power very quickly, before I have had a chance to have proven myself.” 

“But you have proven yourself Rookwood,” Celestia refuted. “Look what you have done for Luna. For Violet. Look how you gave so willingly of yourself.” 

“What I did for Luna was selfish. I wanted her entirely for myself. I was not willing to share her any longer,” Rookwood argued.

“I like your selfishness,” Luna mumbled around a mouthful of apple fritter. “But in bed you are such a giver.” 

“Still being selfish. I enjoy teasing you far too much,” Rookwood retorted with a snort, turning to watch his mate devour more food. 

“Not all selfishness is bad if it serves others. A wise pony that seeks power to rule is not a bad pony if he or she is a benevolent ruler who is good to his or her subjects. A good doctor that wants to make a name for themselves cannot be faulted for their selfishness if they cure the sick and bring wellness to the infirm,” Celestia reasoned. 

“Fair point,” Rookwood said, tucking into a bowl of bread pudding dusted with cinnamon and dotted with raisins. “But watch my benevolence boil away if something, anything harms one hair on her body. All three of us sit at this table as equals, each of us peak prime immortals with the power to completely annihilate life on a scale that few can comprehend or imagine. All I need to begin my rampage of destruction is one dead body, and I can make those easily enough. Soon after, everything that falls to my anger will rise up to slay their former comrades, and my enemies will soon drown under a flood of the dead.” 

Celestia swallowed loudly, looking suddenly ill. She knew this already, but to hear Rookwood say it so casually was another issue altogether. Necromancy was Celestia’s most feared and hated enemy, and here it was, sitting with her at the breakfast table. 

“So romantic!” Luna blurted as lifted a pitcher of cranberry juice. “Talk conquest to me Rookwood,” she added, before beginning to guzzle down the red liquid. 

“I think you are making auntie uncomfortable,” Violet stated. “Stop.” 

“I am fine,” Celestia reassured the foal. “I know what Rookwood is capable of. But I trust him completely and totally. He is a good pony.” 

“He is a pony that will do anything it takes to stay with Luna,” Violet retorted. “Even bad things. I am sure he would try good things first, but I know Rookwood’s heart because we share the same essence.” 

“Common morality does not apply to we immortals,” Luna interjected, setting down her pitcher.

“Luna!” Celestia scolded.

“We might have to kill hundreds to save thousands upon thousands. We have that right. We have the wisdom centuries to back our decisions, not the morality of a brief moment,” Luna insisted. “And Rookwood has already endured enough suffering for a hundred lives. I doubt he would make such a decision lightly and once such a decision is made, he would end such conflict swiftly, restore order, fix the balance, and then allow the living mortals left alive much needed time to recover and fix their short lives into a misery of their own choosing.” 

“LUNA!” Celestia snapped. 

“Tell me my words are not true! Have you not done much the same?” Luna argued. 

“I have done things I am not proud of,” Celestia admitted. “But they had to be done for the greater good.” 

“You used the sun to burn away an empire,” Luna accused. “You killed hundreds of thousands and because of that untold millions have since lived. I rest my case. We as immortals cannot be held to common morality. We ARE gods. We can only be judged by history. And do tell, who is one of the most beloved names in history?” 

“I sometimes wonder if I deserve it,” Celestia confessed, her voice small and timid. 

“Hades made me swear an oath that I would summon every dark power in Tartarus to keep both of you safe,” Rookwood announced. “And I did so. The world approaches troubling times once again. Seems that it happens every thousand years or so. The major powers have a go at one another and power shifts and redistributes.” 

“Rookwood, remember one thing. Immortal does not mean invulnerable,” Celestia warned. “It is awful what we can live though.” 

“I know. Hades has warned me of this repeatedly,” Rookwood admitted. 

“Speaking of not being invulnerable, enduring this pregnancy is awful,” Luna announced. “I am horny, but too sensitive to do anything, I am always hungry, the light is beginning to bother me more and more, I am getting fat and pudgy all over my beautiful slender body, I begin to look more and more like my sister-” 

“HEY!” Celestia interrupted. 

Luna giggled, covering her mouth with her fetlock. Violet also began to giggle, making little snorts as she did so. 

“I must confess, I like your new jiggly places. There is more of you to squeeze,” Rookwood admitted. 

“Watch your tongue, do not speak of my jiggly places,” Luna deadpanned. 

“Better get used to those jiggly places, I intend to keep you fat with foal every chance I get.” Rookwood replied in a monotone, matching Luna wit for wit. 

“Is that so?” Luna snarked. 

“Yeah, and you’ll like it,” Rookwood retorted. 

Luna beamed, looking quite pleased, and she grabbed her pitcher of cranberry juice. “I will hold you to your words, knave,” she returned, and then began to guzzle the cranberry juice once again. 

“You two are something else,” Celestia commented, looking at her sister and her brother in law. 

“Something else other than jiggly?” Rookwood questioned. 

“Rookwood, you play a dangerous game,” Celestia warned. 

“I know,” replied Rookwood. “We immortals must have our hobbies.” 

“I need a hobby,” Violet said, sighing heavily. 

“Luna once dropped a meteor upon her own body just to discover what it felt like. Took her weeks to recover. She tells me she was bored at the time and it seemed like such an educational idea,” Celestia said. 

“It was educational,” Luna grunted, setting down the empty pitcher. “And it was really fascinating to watch it make entry into the atmosphere and draw closer and closer. As it struck me, I was really quite taken by its beauty.” 

“So is that what we do as immortals? Endure our morbid fantasies?” Rookwood queried, exchanging a glance with the two sisters. 

“Celestia once engaged two dragons in combat in fit of bravado. Turns out, dragons can burn. But so can my sister,” Luna quipped. 

“Those dragons invaded Equestria and had to be stopped,” Celestia protested. “It wasn’t bravado!” 

“You allowed yourself to be swallowed by one,” Luna argued. 

“Well, they are soft on the inside,” Celestia retorted. 

“That is insane,” Rookwood said. 

“You have no room to talk Rookwood!” Celestia protested. “You drew Nightmare Moon inside of you and then tossed yourself into the sun in a mortal body!” 

“That stung a little,” Rookwood confessed. “I got better.” 

“You endured touching me,” Violet added. 

“And drew out my pain,” Luna mentioned. 

“So you will probably have one of those “hey, why not, I am immortal” moments yourself,” Celestia insisted. 

Rookwood sighed. “You are probably right.” 

“Want to find out what it feels like to have a celestial body slam into you?” Luna said suggestively. 

“Bah, I’ve been to bed with you already,” Rookwood replied. 

Luna fumed silently, thwarted completely by Rookwood’s wit, while her sister burst into laughter. Celestia guffawed for a several minutes, unable to contain herself. Violet’s mouth hung open in an ‘O’ of shock. 

“The next thousand years are going to be interesting.” Rookwood announced, watching Luna give him the stink eye. “She is going to make my introduction to immortality interesting.” 

“Oh, you have no idea. Luna hates being shown up,” Celestia quipped. “My sun is brighter than her moon, and look what that caused.” 

“Sister!” Luna protested . 

“A thousand years of this would be nice,” Rookwood confessed outloud. “Sitting around this table. Laughing. Will this table even survive a thousand years?” 

“It would make these long years bearable, “ Celestia agreed. “We would need a new table eventually.” 

“And to share this table with foals, even though we know they will pass away in the blink of an eye would be pleasant,” Luna added. 

“Yes it would,” replied Celestia. 

“I guess I’ll always be here,” Violet said. “Always small. Always little. I’ll never get to grow up, never get to be a mother, I’ll never change.” 

“I am sorry Violet,” Rookwood apologised. 

“Don’t be sorry. I am a lucky foal. I don’t have to spend all of this time alone. I have you, I have Luna, and I have Celestia now. I am happy enough,” Violet replied, snuffling slightly. 

“Spoiling you for the next thousand years sounds like a good time,” Celestia announced. 

“The sun draws near. I can feel the itch. Violet, are you ready to depart?” Rookwood asked. 

“I want to give Celestia and Luna a kiss before I go,” Violet said, worry in her voice. 

Celestia leaned down and planted a kiss on Violet’s lips, no longer bothered by the fact that the foal was an undead abomination. It wasn’t her fault. Luna lifted the foal in her magic, lifted her over the table, cradled her in her forelegs, and then planted a kiss right where her sister had placed one just a moment before, and then squeezed Violet close. For a brief moment, Violet almost looked alive again. 

“I’ll be taking one of those to go as well,” Rookwood demanded, feeling the alarm for the coming sun all over his skin. “Hopefully, tomorrow, we can do this again.” 
	
	
> Chapter 35
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Long Night Moon Rookwood thought to himself. The one who controls the cultists. It was getting frustrating not finding a location on his foe. It was as if he simply didn’t exist. Or she. Nopony really knew who or what Long Night Moon was. Something was protecting him, shielding him, blocking him from scrying. Or her. Rookwood acknowledged it might be a her. 

Harvest Moon was secure in his fortress of ice at the bottom of the world. Taking on a nest of vampires was not going to be an easy task, even with a dedicated army of the undead at his own disposal. Rookwood did not look forward to that confrontation. Hades had been teaching him all about vampires and those who cheated death. 

Crescent Moon, who had the horn of Nightmare Moon, was also hard to pin down. He had been spotted in several places, and then had simply vanished without a trace, protected from scrying much like Long Night Moon was. There was no telling where Crescent Moon was, and for all Rookwood knew, both Crescent Moon and Long Night Moon might be hiding together, which worried Rookwood to no end. 

Lenton Moon had the Temple of Nightmare Moon in the middle of dragon territory. Rookwood wasn’t sure how a unicorn kept dragons at bay, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. These were wild dragons too, and no amount of reasoning or diplomacy would allow Rookwood to pass through their lands with an army unscathed. 

Rookwood realised he had no means to take on any of these foes. At least not yet. The only one he had any hope of dealing with currently was Harvest Moon, but even that was doubtful. Dealing with the dragons was an unknown, and the last two, he still had to find. 

“Oh fuck,” Rookwood swore, no longer having to worry about paying penance for filthy language. He was beyond such things. Letting the word escape his lips was therapeutic and comforting. 

“You let slip such an utterance around our foals and I will force feed you one thousand bars of soap,” Luna threatened, raising her eyebrow. 

“That sounds like it would be an interesting experience,” Rookwood replied, staring at a large map of the world and not really paying much attention. 

“Potty mouth,” Violet accused. “Father has a potty mouth.” 

“Yes he does,” Luna agreed. “And I will do the same to you if you ever utter that word.” 

Violet’s eyes went wide with fear, the milky white deadened eye highly visible in this state. While something resembling an eye had grown back, she was unable to see out of it and no matter how much she was loved, it never seemed to get better than it currently was. 

Luna kissed the frightened filly on her nose and patted her with a wing. 

“I am this immortal being with amazing powers and I don’t know what to do with or even how to find some of my enemies. This is immensely frustrating. I’ve been in the dream realms looking around, I have my burning dead and undead guards out dream walking, and nothing! Not a damn thing! All we know so far is that the vampires far down south have figured out a new trick on feeding on their victims through the dream realm,” Rookwood said. 

“That is immensely worrisome my love,” Luna replied. 

“I am more worried about you actually, you’ve been practically bedridden lately. I am surprised you are up and about this night,” Rookwood said. 

“I am feeling a bit better tonight,” Luna admitted. 

“If you are feeling better, you should let Rookwood lick you and make you happy,” Violet suggested. 

Luna turned a dark shade of maroon along her neck and all over her face while Rookwood froze, not quite certain what he had just heard coming out of Violet’s mouth. 

“What, did you think I had any sort of innocence left? I know what you two do. He licks your labia like it was a lollipop,” Violet said. “And it makes both of you happy.” 

“Have you been talking to Hades again?” Luna asked. 

Violet nodded. 

“Damnit,” Rookwood cursed. 

“Potty mouth!” Violet snapped. 

“After what just came out of your mouth you have no room to talk filly!” Rookwood retorted. 

“I am the witness to the tortures of Tartarus and I’ve been inside of I don’t know how many wet dreams already. I might look like a filly, but I am not a filly, and don’t you forget that,” Violet returned. “Also, squeaky bunny sex. Hades explained everything that happened.” 

“You must never talk like that around Celestia,” Luna warned. 

“What is the worst that could happen?” Violet asked. 

Rookwood coughed, had a full body shudder, and said nothing. 

“My sister believes you be an eternal foal, and she loves the idea of mothering you endlessly,” Luna explained. “Hearing you talk like that would hurt her badly. She finds the little slips of your innocence amusing, but to hear such blunt language would destroy her. Do you want to hurt her so thoroughly?” 

“I understand. I have no desire to harm her,” Violet replied. 

“Good, because she loves you, probably more than you will ever know or understand,” Luna answered. 

Violet fell silent and sat down upon the carpet with a “thwump” sound as he backside landed. She nodded, saying nothing, and fluttered her wings. A single feather fell out bloodlessly and drifted down to the carpet lazily. 

“You should go to Celestia and cuddle with her,” Luna suggested. 

“So you two can fool around?” Violet inquired. 

“No, so we can get work done,” Rookwood returned. 

“I am not opposed to fooling around,” Luna mentioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“I’m going, I’m going,” Violet said, standing up and hurrying off, scooting out the door of the room.

“As much as I want to fool around, the last time didn’t go so well. So you must excuse my hesitance,” Rookwood stated, once he was certain Violet had gone. 

Luna shot Rookwood a hurtful look. “I am still a bit sensitive back there. I can’t help that. I have needs though.”

“Which I cannot in good conscience help you with,” Rookwood protested. “I took your pain away, I will not add to it further.” 

“It is because of you that I am in this condition!” Luna snapped. 

“Ouch,” Rookwood replied, beginning his retreat. 

“And you have a body again and we aren’t doing anything with it,” Luna insisted. “We should be doing something with it.” 

“Not if it hurts you,” Rookwood retorted.

Luna’s lip protruded in a pout. “You are right I suppose,” she admitted.

“We are having one of those awkward married moments right now, aren’t we?” Rookwood queried. 

“Something very much like that,” Luna admitted. 

“We’ve survived and endured so much. Can we survive boredom?” asked Rookwood, a smug looking smile upon his face. 

“Bored? With me? Already?” Luna teased. 

“Oh, with you, never, just this situation. You and your fat pudgy puddin’ plot will always have my interest,” Rookwood explained. 

Luna’s eyes began to tear over. “You remembered. On the stairs. In that foal’s mind. Hearth’s Warming Eve. Out of every event that took place on that horrible night, you remember those words,” she gushed. 

“We’re not getting anything done,” Rookwood mentioned, looking around the room, his eyes resting on stacks of papers, maps, books, and communication scrolls. “We should do something, even if we are not doing each other.” 

“Like what?” Luna asked. 

“I don’t know, what do immortals do for fun?” Rookwood asked. 

“Get drunk, screw…” Luna said, shrugging her shoulders. 

“We could go out somewhere,” Rookwood suggested. 

“Like where?” Luna asked, sounding intrigued. 

“I have no idea,” Rookwood admitted. 

Luna heaved a sultry sounding sigh. 

“Oh no you don’t, I’ve already said I wouldn’t do that to you. Seeing you hurt is a boner-killer,” Rookwood retorted, responding to Luna’s sigh. 

“I have other means… other parts…” Luna sighed in exasperation. 

“What? No… no, I have been inside of your head and I know what has been done to you. There is no way I am allowing that to happen,” Rookwood protested. 

“It isn’t degrading if I want to do it,” Luna argued. 

“No!” refused Rookwood, shaking his head as he did so. 

“Look, you’ve had your tongue lick places on my body that I didn’t even know existed. It would be wrong if I didn’t return the favour,” Luna reasoned. 

“Yeah, but nothing is being done to make you happy,” Rookwood returned. “And I am not sure you want a mouthful of what currently comes out of there,” Rookwood warned. “The black shadow spunk is kind of weird.” 

“So you’ve mentioned. I get that,” Luna said, her horn flashing brightly. 

They were both suddenly back in their quarters, standing there looking at one another, Luna looking defiant, Rookwood looking defensive. 

“Oh, so that’s how it is going to be,” Rookwood announced, getting his bearings and looking around. 

“Get on the bed,” Luna demanded. 

“Oh no you don’t, I am not some confused colt trying to sneak a peek at your teats anymore,” Rookwood grumbled. 

“Oh, those, you know, they’ve gotten bigger,” Luna said, climbing up onto the bed, rolling over, and laying supine. Her teats were large and swollen, and they slid off to each side, following the curve of her belly. 

Rookwood edged closer to the bed, leaned in, and nosed Luna’s belly, pressing his snoot right between her teats and inhaling her scent. “Warmth and life,” he breathed. He could smell her. There was a faint whiff of arousal. 

“We could still try it, just be gentle with me,” Luna offered. “I didn’t know you were skittish about me returning the favour. This is very hard for me, I waited so long for you to come back to me and now everything going on down there is causing me troubles, I just want to feel you close to me, I want to hear you breathing, I want to have your body entwined with mine, the way that it was, when you were so taken with me and worshipped me, and made me feel the way that only you made me feel.” 

“I could just hold you,” Rookwood offered. 

“No, it isn’t the same, you were always so eager to please, so loving, the fact that you wanted to please me, that is what I got off on, I miss feeling that,” Luna admitted. 

Rookwood looked down and saw Luna’s glistening swollen folds. 

“Ugh, must you look at it directly? I don’t feel attractive right now. I am fat, and everything is weird and misshapen down there. And there is this horrible layer of fat making everything look awful, just awful,” Luna complained. 

“How could our foal come from something ugly? You once broke my nose because of my own self depreciation and how it made you feel,” Rookwood said, remembering something from what seemed like a lifetime ago. 

“Am I to be punished then?” Luna asked. 

“Oh, I don’t have the cruelty to do that. Uh, well, I do have the cruelty actually, depending on who you ask, just not towards you,” Rookwood replied in lawyerly tones. 

“But I am such a bad mare,” Luna purred, switching tactics. Garnering Rookwood’s sympathy had failed and Luna was ready to move on.

Luna settled herself on the bed, kicking out her hind legs and spreading wide, and she began to rub her belly with her forehooves. She flexed and clenched, making wet slick sounds that made Rookwood gulp and swallow. Luna watched her spellbound love interest as she put on quite a show, and watched his lips quiver with desire as she flexed and heaved her pucker. “Well, if you won't let me satisfy you with my mouth, we could always see how sensitive I am down there and give that a try. I am sure you would attend to it with every bit of loving care as the rest of me,” Luna said. 

“No, I couldn’t, I’ve seen too much of your past, I remember things that were done to you there,” Rookwood protested. 

“Look… Rookwood, all of me has been abused at some point or another, and you have lavished your affections upon me, making me feel loved. I wouldn’t offer myself up to you if I didn’t feel comfortable with you trying something. Perhaps I want to feel loved where I once felt abused. Perhaps I want to give love in such a way where once there had been an act of force and what I had to offer was taken from me against my will. If I want to take you into my mouth it is my business to do so, or if I want to try new things, I have that right. I trust you. Don’t shut me out just because you share my memories and my hurts,” Luna explained. 

“You are right of course,” Rookwood admitted. He lowered his head and planted a kiss in a place that made Luna’s legs kick and caused her to exhale in a shivering heaving hiss. 

“You had better finish what you started!” Luna shouted. 
	
> Chapter 36 *
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Leaning down, Rookwood took the entirety of Luna’s clitoral mound into his mouth, applying heavy suction, the tip of his tongue working its way under the clitoral hood. He tugged and pulled, lifting his head, stretching the flesh taught and making Luna cry out in lustful surprise. 

He continued to pull and tug, pulling to one side, and then the other, then up, and then downwards, until finally he moved his head around in a circular motion, gently kneading the entire expanse of flesh within his mouth using his tongue. 

After several minutes of doing this, he tugged her flesh until the pull was almost painfully taut, and then slowly allowed the flesh within his mouth to escape, letting it slide between tightly pressed lips. 

Finally, all he had left in his mouth was her rock hard nubbin, which he allowed to slip free after a final parting tickle with his tongue, and it slid from his pursed lips with a wet squelching “pop” sound. 

Luna’s barrel was already heaving, her mouth open, her orange tongue out and panting. 

“Does that please my Princess?” Rookwood asked rhetorically. 

Luna did could reply, not with words, but she managed a nod after several moments of heavy breathing. She squirmed, and there was a wet slurping sound as her inner folds were pulled apart as she spread her legs, desperate to cool her fevered filly bits. 

Her horn flashed in a bright burst of light, and Rookwood found himself on the bed beside her. Luna was on him in moments, sprawling over his barrel, pinning him down. 

“Time for you to get a taste of your own medicine, you lecherous knave,” she growled. “Let’s see you squirm and beg!” 

“Luna, no, I can’t do this to you,” Rookwood protested, feeling Luna’s hot breath on his sheath. 

“You can and will, I do this of my own volition. This is my choice. This is not done in humiliation or to debase me,” Luna argued. She gave a nip to the edge of Rookwood’s sheath, causing his whole body to go rigid for a moment. 

“Luna, I feel bad about this, I’ve seen you endure this in your past, how it shamed you, I don’t know if I can,” Rookwood protested.

“This does not shame me, this empowers me. I do this to please myself and my husband. You are not holding something over my head or coercing me into this act,” Luna retorted. She gave a curious lick and felt something respond. 

“Luna, we’ve talked only briefly about the changes to my body, and what comes out, I don’t know how it will be for you,” Rookwood whined, trying to squirm away, the Immortal Lord of Psychopomps now feeling mortal fear as he tried to escape. 

“Then I shall find out, or you can just blow your load all over me as you have so many times before,” Luna growled, nipping again at the edge of Rookwood’s sheath. Something was beginning to peek out. She gave the exposed tip a lewd lick. 

Rookwood shuddered, fell still for a moment, and then resumed his halfhearted attempts to get away. 

“Come on Rookwood, I know the hearts of stallions, and every stallion wants to look down and see the lips of the mare he loves wrapped around his veiny cock, and her eyes peering up at him so sweetly,” Luna teased. 

“Maybe I do, but not at your expense,” Rookwood retorted, still trying to escape. 

Luna pulled him back to the center of the bed using her magic, and she pressed more of her weight down on top of him. She began to plant little kisses all around the base of his now growing shaft, and occasionally one of the kisses was a painful nip, asserting her dominance. 

Rookwood felt an odd sense of shame and lust as a low moan escaped his lips. He felt his hips thrust involuntarily, trying to grind against something that wasn’t there for more sensation. 

“Luna… ahoohah… promise me you will not… you will not… mmmf… Luna you must promise me that you will not gag yourself or hurt yourself in any way, not for my pleasure, please… oh damn…” Rookwood gasped. 

“You don’t want me trying to deepthroat you?” Luna asked.

“No, please… I am begging you, not to do that. Please… I couldn’t bear it,” Rookwood replied. 

“Very well, this time, I will merely explore what seems pleasurable for both of us,” Luna agreed. She drew her tongue along the partially hardened shaft, going from balls to tip, pausing along the ring halfway up to tickle with her tongue. 

Luna delighted in watching Rookwood squirm beneath her, his moans and cries setting off a blistering heat in her nethers. This was an entirely new sensation for her… she had not been aware that by doing this, she would feel pleasure as well. She rubbed her velvet cheek along the hardening shaft, rubbing up and down along side of it, and she felt Rookwood writhe beneath her as she did so. 

Luna was well over a thousand years old and only now truly exploring her sexuality, finding out what made her tick as a mare. And she liked this. This was merely another element of control and trust. She felt Rookwood tugging at her backside, trying to maneuver her over his body. 

“No,” Luna said, “I don’t want to be distracted by you doing what you do so well,” she stated. “I want to be able to pay attention and find out what works here,” she explained. 

There was another insistent tug on her backside, and she felt herself being pulled closer. Luna nipped the fleshy ring around Rookwood’s now throbbing cock, pinching the flesh lightly with her teeth. He froze for a long moment, and shuddered. “Oh, you like that!” she crowed in triumph. She nipped again, delivering a small dose of pleasurable pain, not actually wanting to cause serious harm. 

The tugging on her backside stopped. 

“Who is your Princess?” Luna demanded. 

“You are my Mistress!” Rookwood replied. 

“Who is your master?” Luna questioned before giving a lick that ran from ring to tip, her tongue lingering around the opening as something grey oozed from the opening.

“I am your slave,” Rookwood confessed in a trembling voice. “All I am and all I will ever be, I exist as your slave. I cheated death to serve you for all eternity.” 

“Whatever this is, it is salty, has an umami flavour, and doesn’t exist entirely in the physical realm,” Luna announced after she ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth, trying to gain an understanding and appreciation of the flavour. Luna wrapped her lips around the head of Rookwood’s cock, squeezed her lips fiercely, and then slid down, taking in only a few inches. 

While much had changed about Rookwood, Hades had left one part of him alone. Rookwood’s stallionhood was much the same as it was, short, skinny, and entirely non-threatening as far as phalluses go. Luna loved every inch of it, and was glad that it hadn’t really changed. Rookwood was still Rookwood in the ways that mattered to Luna. She undulated her tongue along the underside of Rookwood’s shaft and was rewarded with a whimpering cry of pleasure. 

“Who rules you?” Luna demanded as she pulled away from the slick cock she had been slurping on. 

“Oh you do my Mistress,” Rookwood replied, his hips thrusting softly. 

Luna was enjoying this back and forth a great deal. She felt powerful. She felt aroused. She felt emotionally satisfied. She took him into her mouth again, and began to run her tongue around his shaft, around and around, moving in a clockwise manner. 

“Oh my Mistress, a warning, if you keep this up, I am going to make quite a mess,” Rookwood warned, his voice quavering. 

Luna pressed on, intrigued and curious, wondering if she would enjoy it this time where she had hated it so much before. She began to feel odd conflicting emotions. She lapped upon the shaft, finding the line of rough tissue that was the nerve channel that ran along the bottom. She ran the tip of her tongue along the ridge of nerves. 

She felt his cock twitching and jerking during her ministrations. 

Cursing her own memories, she pulled away. 

“What is wrong?” Rookwood asked, a sense of urgency in his voice. 

“I can’t,” Luna admitted. “I was going to lick you into submission like you do for me, but I can’t bear the thought of it going off in my face,” Luna said sadly. 

“Thats alright Luna, really, there are other ways to finish this,” Rookwood soothed. “I tried to warn you so it wouldn’t just go off in your face.” 

“Sometimes I wonder if I deserve you,” Luna said, looking at the awaiting throbbing cock inches away from her face. More grey ooze spurted from the tip and began to trickle down the shaft.

“Don’t say that,” Rookwood begged. 

“We need to finish this, this must be torture for you, how shall we proceed?” Luna asked. 

“We don’t have to finish, you seem upset,” Rookwood replied. 

“Look at it, it is about to explode Rookwood, you can actually see it throbbing each time your heart beats,” Luna said, casting a glance at the expectant organ bobbing back and forth like a metronome. 

Rookwood slid out from beneath her and then rolled her over. 

“And once again, this becomes about me,” Luna huffed. 

“Does that really bother you?” Rookwood asked. 

“Yes, you are about give me some fantastic orgasm after I’ve failed you, delaying your own needs, and after looking after mine, you will act upon yours as an afterthought, and this bothers me,” Luna whined. 

“Fine then, if it means so much, I shall punish you,” Rookwood muttered. 

Luna looked up at him sourly. “You would deny your Mistress?” she asked, a pout upon her lips. 

“Maybe,” he responded, maneuvering over her body. He eased himself up against her, and Luna felt his hardness against her softness. 

Luna felt a teasing prod at her entrance, Rookwood’s tip becoming drenched in her desire. There were a few more prods, but no penetration, and Luna started to feel the old familiar frustration of being teased. 

And then, the tip was pulled away. 

“You tease!” Luna accused. 

The tip was thrust back, but in another location. 

“Rookwood?” Luna asked. 

“If you actually say stop, I will,” Rookwood promised. “Otherwise, I am going to selfishly indulge myself. 

Luna looked up at him, her lower lip protruding in a pout. “You are a naughty stallion,” she murmured. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

Luna’s eyes opened wide as something pressed against her pucker solidly, demanding entrance. Rookwood wasn’t joking. She squirmed, not really knowing what to do, not wanting to say stop, not after failing to deliver the goods on the blowjob. 

Rookwood loomed over Luna, his belly pressed against her own large rounded belly, his weight supported on his forelegs, one hoof planted on each side of Luna’s body. He paused, wiggled his hips, adjusted his angle, and tried again. 

“OooOOOOoooOOOH!” Luna cried, feeling something beginning to stretch and give way, and the first hint of actual penetration taking place. She looked up at Rookwood with wide eyed surprise, her face still frozen in a pout, her lower lip still protruding enough for birds to land upon it. 

Luna could feel Rookwood’s belly sliding over her protruding throbbing clitoris. She ground herself against him, and in doing so, angled her hips perfectly for just one moment.

One moment was all that Rookwood needed, and the slipped his tip inside of her, causing Luna to moan. 

But Luna did not say stop. 

There was just enough moisture on his cock to be slick, and Rookwood pressed his advantage, driving himself in deeper, a little at a time, not wanting to actually hurt the mare he loved, but enjoying the feeling of a little dominance. She was still technically in control, and if she said stop, he would. 

Rookwood probed her pucker, feeling the tight wrinkle of flesh clenching around him as he wiggled the tip around inside of her. As he moved, his weight pressed down upon her clitoral mound. Luna began to moan as he situated himself to penetrate a little deeper. 

He rocked his hips back and forth, nearing his climax, content to slip in only a few inches. He didn’t bother trying to hilt himself, he was stimulating the tip to rapidly hasten his own climax. 

“This… this feels very good when it isn’t forced,” Luna breathed, still shooting Rookwood a pouting look, which inflamed her mate’s desire. 

Luna felt herself go off from the pressure on her nubbin, and her whole body tensed from her orgasm, clenching her pucker even tighter around Rookwood’s meaty length. 

The increased squeeze triggered a base need to actually penetrate deep within Rookwood, and he drove himself in up to his ring, causing Luna to gasp and writhe beneath him, but she did not say stop. She bucked her hips upwards, trying to ease the feeling of pressure as Rookwood continued to bugger her.

Her repositioning allowed for smoother thrusting on Rookwood’s part, and he picked up the pace, grinding away now, a low growl coming from his throat. 

Luna bit down on her lip, still pouting, her narrowed eyes looking up at Rookwood accusingly, letting him know what she thought of him taking her so roughly and making her his mare. She felt his thrusting increase, and she knew he was close. She prepared herself, wondering if he would slip it all the way in as he came, and for a moment, the fear of being so thoroughly penetrated made her shiver with delicious fear. She orgasmed again, a small one, a quick and dirty climax brought about by fear and cheap thrills, feeling a hot throbbing cock violating her pucker once again, only this time, it was on her terms. She could make this stop at any time… but felt no need to do so. 

The hot friction was too much and Rookwood came, careful not to ram himself in too deeply, slipping in only as deep as his ring, blowing a hot load of black shadow spunk deep inside of his love, which made Luna moan as she felt the searingly hot liquid flood her insides. There were a few more thrusts, a few more squirts, and then finally, Rookwood pulled out of her and flopped down on the bed beside her. 

There was a warm delightful dribble of spunk trickling out of her clenching pucker, and Luna shivered as she felt it ooze out and slide down to her dock. She felt hot down there, the flesh on flesh friction was truly marvelous, and more importantly, she had enjoyed it. 

Luna wondered if Rookwood would enjoy it when she decided to pay him back. 
	
> Chapter 37
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	In the early morning hours just before dawn, Princess Luna squirmed in her chair, unable to sit still at the breakfast table. She leaned over to one side, and then leaned over to another, and then she leaned forward. She shot Rookwood a dirty look as she tried to eat her scrambled eggs. 

“Sister, are you having a problem?” Celestia asked, her concern evident upon her face. Celestia smiled as the cook delivered a special dish that Rookwood had requested for breakfast this morning. 

A platter of fudge turnovers was placed upon the table. 

Luna stared wide eyed at the platter of pastries. 

“Luna?” Celestia asked. 

“I’m fine,” Luna muttered in between bites of scrambled eggs. 

“You keep squirming in your seat,” Celestia said. 

“I’m fine,” Luna insisted, shooting Rookwood a furtive glance. 

Grinning broadly, Rookwood helped himself to a hot fudge turnover. 

“Mmm, fudge turnovers,” Violet said. 

Rookwood politely dropped several on Violet’s plate and touched them with shadow, pulling them into a realm where Violet could enjoy them. The foal began to gobble them greedily. Luna made a choking sound as she watched.

“Luna, you keep squirming… sometimes, pregnant mares get hemorrhoids, it isn’t anything to be embarrassed about, if you need to see a doctor, you should. If you are having a problem you shouldn’t try to hide it,” Celestia reassured. 

Rookwood chortled. 

Luna stared wide eyed at her sister, her mouth moving, but no words came out. She lowered her gaze and began to gobble her scrambled eggs, stopping only to add more hot sauce. 

“You know Luna, the hot sauce will only make the hemorrhoids worse,” Celestia warned. 

Luna did not reply. She glared balefully at Rookwood but remained silent. 

Rookwood lifted a fudge turnover from the try and offered it to Luna. “Care to try it?” he asked, raising his eyebrow. 

Luna squirmed in her seat. “You bastard,” she muttered, leaning off to one side. She rubbed her backside against the chair, trying to relieve the hot itchy feeling, and then tilted over to one side to spread her cheeks apart, trying to allow a cooling breeze to enter. 

“Luna? You are acting very peculiar. Do you have worms?” Celestia asked. 

“No sister, I do not have worms. I do not have hemorrhoids. What I do have is a husband that I failed to give a blowjob to, and then to make it up to him I allowed him to give me a ‘fudge turnover’ because I was curious to see what would happen,” Luna snapped. 

Celestia looked at the platter of fudge turnovers in horror. 

“The act of was consensual and I have suffered no real harm, except my pucker burns and itches, and I kind of want Rookwood to bone me again just to scratch the itch,” Luna continued. “Rubbing it makes the itch go away.” 

Rookwood licked the creamy fudge filling from a turnover and looked very pleased with himself. He had no fear of Celestia now. She couldn’t actually kill him. Not now, not with his immortality. 

“What’s a blowjob?” Violet said innocently. 

Luna shot the foal a startled look and Violet looked back and blinked innocently. Luna devoured the fudge turner Rookwood offered, devouring it whole, stuffing the whole thing into her maw. 

“Violet honey, you don’t need to know that,” Celestia said slowly, her eyes darting between Rookwood and Luna. “Rookwood…” Celestia said accusingly. 

“Yes?” Rookwood replied, a smear of fudge on his snoot. 

“Oh by the sun, there is fudge on your snoot, I can’t even look at you right now,” Celestia huffed in exasperation. 

“Our breakfasts are a tradition, it is practically a royal institution,” Rookwood returned. “It is our fate to have awkward breakfasts together.” 

Violet smacked her lips and licked away the fudge all over her muzzle. 

“Actually, there is something very serious I wanted to discuss with you Celestia. While your sister and I were sharing some quality time, I had something of an idea,” Rookwood announced. 

“You were thinking about something else while you plundered what I have given to no other stallion willingly?” Luna cried. 

“Well, you were off in the dream realms,” Rookwood retorted. 

“That is beside the point, I have duties. But I attended to your needs,” Luna snapped. 

“I am sorry, but the idea slipped into my mind when everything got all hot and burny and I was slipping into you,” Rookwood said apologetically. 

“Hmmph!” Luna snorted, pulling a pitcher of pineapple juice to her. She guzzled directly from the pitcher, anger still on her face. 

“Look, before I get sidetracked any further, I have this idea. Harvest Moon is hiding down on the ice shelf at the bottom of the world. I am not sure how to deal with him using my own methods. I can’t ambush him during the day, because I can’t go out in the daylight. And by night, he is bound to be strong. I don’t know if I want to walk into a nest full of quasi-immortal vampires. So I was thinking, Celestia, can you maneuver the sun around to the bottom of the world and wipe him off of the map with a solar flare?” Rookwood said, making a few gestures as he spoke. 

“Absolutely not,” Celestia said. “I cannot abuse my power over the sun. Melting the ice shelf would cause massive flooding. There would be so many consequences.” 

“Still not as bad as letting him live,” Rookwood replied. 

“I cannot in good conscious do as you ask Rookwood,” Celestia returned. “Even if it is a good idea.” 

“So you acknowledge it is a good idea,” Rookwood said, seizing upon Celestia’s words. “One quick strike. He sits in a fortress made of ice. One quick strike and Harvest Moon is burned to a cinder, his evil over.” 

“Not at the cost of so much collateral damage,” Celestia said flatly. 

“Luna is not in a position to help me right now, I am not sure how to kill the vampires, and you hold their weakness as your strength,” Rookwood reasoned. 

“Rookwood, no,” Celestia said, shaking her head. 

“Fine, I am sorry for bringing it up, do forgive me,” Rookwood replied. 

“It is a good idea though,” Luna said. “But the next time you are punishing me for being a bad mare, you had better give me the focus and attention I deserve.” 

“Bad mare?” Celestia asked. 

“Mother Luna is not a bad mare,” Violet said with wide eyed innocence.

Celestia hugged the foal with one extended wing. “That’s right Violet,” she said to the foal. 

“I felt  really bad for letting Rookwood down after all that he has done for me. I had trouble finishing what I started. I actually feel really bad about it,” Luna said, squirming in her chair, her face flashing a look of sorrow for only a brief instant. 

“Look, I didn’t want you to do it in the first place and I only allowed to happen because you insisted. I’m not upset. And I only ‘punished’ you because you wanted me to do that. Please, don’t be upset about it,” said Rookwood, hoping his words would comfort Luna. “The pastries were to get you to laugh about it because I know all about your sense of humour.” 

“I never thought I’d see the day when Rookwood was more mature than my sister,” Celestia mentioned as she exchanged a glance with the two ponies across the table. 

Luna sniffled for a moment but said nothing. Instead, she viciously attacked a platter of fried potatoes, sliding it in front of her and eating directly from the platter. In moments, a sizable portion of the potatoes were gone, devoured while Luna squirmed in her seat. 

“Any moment now, Luna is going to go dragging her backside over a really expensive carpet,” Rookwood observed. 

“Rookwood,” Luna replied. “Thou art in trouble,” she finished. 

Rookwood nodded. “Yeah I suppose I am,” he replied. 

Violet giggled as she nibbled the corner of a turnover. 

“Rookwood, why? I just complimented you on your maturity. What is it with you and this chaotic streak of yours?” Celestia asked. “And now, my sister is so upset that she is slipping back into the old tongue.” 

“What is it with you and your rigid inflexibility?” Rookwood retorted. “The ends justify the means in my mind. You could end Harvest Moon’s reign of terror right now, but you refuse out of a sense of misplaced morality.” 

Celestia glared at Rookwood and the room began to warm. 

Rookwood glared back, and the temperature plunged. The room became so cold that the juices in the pitchers developed a thin layer of ice. The chill of the grave permeated the room quickly, overpowering any feeling of warmth.

“Enough, both you,” Luna commanded. “Your territorial pissings have long since infuriated me.” 

Rookwood relented and the room began to warm. “I am sorry. I guess I don’t understand your reasons for refusal. I have trouble not taking the obvious solution. This would fix things quickly,” he stated. 

Celestia’s hard glare softened. “I apologise as well. Rookwood, a solar flare would melt much of the ice cap. The sea levels would rise. Coastal cities all over the world would be flooded. There would be a massive loss of life. Moving the sun out of its orbit to use it as a weapon is something I would only do if I absolutely had to,” explained Celestia in a patient voice. 

“History would vindicate us though, right? Make a few sacrifices, destroy hundreds of vampires that are making the world miserable, and poisoning the minds of foals. Minions of Nightmare Moon, Nightmare Moon who tortured, tormented, and raped all of us at this table, either directly or by proxy, all of them could be destroyed in one strike. Isn’t that what we talked about? Being immortal is all about making choices that mortals couldn’t?” Rookwood argued. 

“Rookwood, it is more than that,” Celestia replied. 

“I don’t get it,” Rookwood admitted. 

“Rookwood, you take a very blunt approach to everything, and that is fine, it gives you something in common with Luna. Both of you compliment one another quite well. But you are new to this game. Luna could destroy it as well. All she would have to do is pull an asteroid into orbit, guide it with her magic, and then drop it down upon Harvest Moon’s fortress. It would obliterate him. Luna, would you do this?” Celestia asked. 

“Nope,” Luna said. 

“Why not?” Rookwood asked. 

“Because things could go wrong. Orbital bombardment using meteor strikes is an extreme measure. I have done so in the past. And as it was in the past, the damage done would be mind blowing to all who witness it. And then for the next few generations, I have to earn the trust of every living creature on this planet, promising them I will not drop the fury of the heavens upon their heads. Sapient creatures tend to view such events with fear and mistrust, no matter how convincing or compelling your reasons are. Diplomatic relations with other nations would go to pot. They would acquiesce to every request out of fear rather than respect. All of the hard work my sister has done to portray herself as benevolent ruler would vanish the moment the meteor strike impacted and left behind a smoking ruin. The consequences would be dire,” Luna explained. 

“That makes sense,” Rookwood admitted. 

“It is different for you Rookwood. If you were to raise an army of the dead, it would be expected of you. And the moment that they were no longer needed, the dead would be put to rest. The long term consequences would be minimal for you. Sapient beings are supposed to fear you, and for good reason. Scaring everything senseless would only be beneficial for you in the long run, because you gain power with fear. Never let that go to your head Rookwood. I doubt it ever will, you are too slavishly devoted to my sister to ever stray and risk losing her affections. But for us, we have to keep the trust of the living. We cannot afford to scare them so badly that they all cower in fear of what may come next. We cannot become tyrants. We must remain gentle. That said, I will think upon your proposal. We can lose this sacred trust if we sit back and no nothing while great evil grows in strength,” Celestia said. 

“Thank you for your consideration,” Rookwood replied in appreciation. 

“The sun approaches,” Violet announced.